#matthew murdock x you
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strip poker
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.”
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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
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.
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“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?”
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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.”
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Hi hi babe!!!!
Ugh I'm so happy that you're request inbox is open hehe cause you know me
So I have a thot and was wondering if you could whip something up for me based on the lyrics of art deco by the one and only lana
(A little party never hurt no one
Not you and me
A little party never hurt no one
We were born to be free)
With of course Matty and some smut with it please? Love you babe 💗💗💗
my pumpkin hi!! okay so I got a little sidetracked and kinda went off course a bit, I sorta based the beginning part literally of those lyrics, and kinda did a bit of an age gap, I know im sorry!! couldn’t help myself, but suits bc it’s our queen, lana, right?? I made it a little longer than planned, but only bc I love you. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
—
friday’s
matt murdock x f!reader
word count: 1240
warnings: 18+ readers only!! mention of an age gap, cunnilingus. mdni
✧.┊ MASTERLIST
As you're a little younger than Matt - a few substantial years younger - you were in different phases of your lives, nothing drastic. You just liked to spend your weekends getting blackout drunk at the nearest club, whereas your boyfriend, Matt, enjoyed a quiet night in with a takeout dinner.
When your free time coincides- usually weekends, you'd spend time together. You'd take turns to pick said activity, allowing for a fair game. Considering you picked last weekend, it was now Matt's turn to choose, and to no surprise, it was the same as all the other countless weekends.
You're both sprawled out on the sofa, laying lazily against each other after your overindulgence from the local Chinese restaurant, cartons cluttering the coffee table. You peek up to look at Matt, a subtle smile on your face as you rest your chin on his chest. "Wanna go out?"
"Out? Sweetheart, we just ate," he grins in his usual way, shaking his head in amusement. "Don't you think it's a little late?" he asks, entertaining you.
"Never too late," you perk up, an excited smile on your face. "That's not a 'no'. Come on, a little party never hurt no one."
"No, sweetheart," he chuckles, tightening his grip as if to pull you back to him. "It's my turn, remember?"
"You’re so boring," you mumble, prodding his ribs with a pointed finger.
"Aw, I'm sorry," he plays along, teasing you. "Was I too hard on you?"
You hum in agreement, trailing over his chest with a featherlight touch. "Yeah. Uncalled for."
"That so?" he asks, his voice low and quiet, almost like he was trying to lure you.
“Mh-hm," you nod, still playful as you sit up, slipping from his grasp. "I think I'm going to sit in the other room now."
Matt catches on instantly- well, he knew from the start, but he'd never admit that to you. He found it endearing when you thought you could trick him, how your heart jumps a few beats when you tease him or how your breathing quickens when you lie. He knew you well, and he knew these teasing mind games you loved to play- every single one.
And right now, you were playing his favourite one of all. The one where you pout and pretend to be in a mood to get what you want. It was always harmless and playful on your behalf, never any intended malice. You enjoyed how he'd hang onto what you say and anticipate what you want, like you had him around wrapped around your finger.
Though, it was often more than that. You liked to work Matt up, get him so bothered that he had to do something about it- do something to you about it. But sometimes, you forgot who Matt is. And as much as he loved to be teased by you, there was only so much he could take, especially with a rock hard cock between his legs.
"I think you want to stay in," he smiles down at you, the corners of his pretty lips twitching with suggestive thought.
"No, I wanna go out," you lie, protesting your non-existent ground. "I can just call my friends if you're not gonna give me what—"
A firm yet gentle tap on the ass cuts you off. "Are you telling me I don't give you what you want?" Matt faintly asks, adjusting himself so you are in his place, your back against the couch with him hovering atop. "Do I not give you what you want?" he whispers, closing the space between you, grazing your lips with his own. "Is that true, sweetheart?"
"Yeah," you pathetically oppose once more, shamelessly lying to a blind catholic.
He tuts, lingering against your lips before pulling away, teasing you the way you do him. "Okay then." He nods, slowly lifting himself from you.
You snake your arms around Matt's neck, pulling and guiding him back to you. "No— no, okay, okay, okay," you mutter, speaking rushed. "I lied… I lied," you whisper, speaking just as whiney and pathetically as earlier. You shimmy your hips, adjusting to wrap your legs around him, your knees hugging his hips. "I'm sorry— I'm sorry I lied."
He coos, a subtle proud smile slapped on his face. "I thought so," he lowers back to you and hesitantly brushes over your lips, making you wait for it.
Matt finally encaptures them, working over them with slight vigour. One hand settles on your waist, the other around your throat, guiding you and deepening the kiss.
He parts from your swollen lips, trailing a hurried line of brash kisses along your jaw and down the base of your throat, his hand pawing at your lounge shirt, eagerly trying to rid the fabric. He succeeds, hastily removing the garment over your head, his mouth immediately attaching to your bare chest, lazily licking over your stiffened nipples.
He slides down you, trailing sloppy kisses between the valley of your tits and down your stomach, halting when he reaches the waistband of your pyjama bottoms. He lingers soft, flutter-like kisses over your abdomen- ones that mimic the feeling in your lower belly.
His focus lowers, as does his roughened palm- fingers grazing over your hips until they snake into the band of fabric, easing the loungewear down and over your thighs, all the way off your ankles.
"Perfect," he mutters against your warm and exposed thigh, trailing a string of kisses up to the crease, pausing when he reaches the outline of your underwear. "I think we should stop here— call it a night." He teases, speaking softly against your covered pussy, almost whispering to it.
"Matt," you warn, fingers digging into the swole of his shoulders. "Don't do that. It's not funny."
"It is," he chuckles into the pool of sweetness between your legs, the action making you twitch. "Needy little thing, hm?"
"Shut up," you reply breathlessly, winding your hips into his face, desperately trying to refocus him. "Please," you pant, playing with his hair, guiding him back to where you want him. "Come on."
Another amused chuckle slips past his lips before he finally slips down the wet piece of fabric that is your underwear. He adjusts his weight, stomach pressed flat against the sofa as he nestles his face between your legs, his arms hooking around your thighs.
He lightly exhales over your sensitive nub, breathing over it before eventually caving in, delicately kissing around the touch-starved mound. His movements are slow and confident as he trails over your folds, briefly sucking on them before continuing lower. He knew his way around a pussy, and wanted you to soak up every single tingle he was making you feel.
He lays his tongue flat against you, slowly licking up through your slit as if to savour your flavour on his tongue. "Taste so pretty, sweetheart," he hazily praises, his words loose and sluggish as he delves deeper into you, mumbling into your folds about how good you taste, already drunk off you.
Matt leisurely swipes over you, kissing and nibbling your cunt like he had all the time in the world- and maybe he did. Maybe he wanted to work you up and make you pay for all your teasing and petty games. And maybe, just maybe, this was his idea of spending the weekend together- Chinese food and cunnilingus on the couch.
— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —
this is so shit omg, I got bored reading and editing it🙃I don’t think I did your idea justice babe!?
matt taglist: @hailey-murdock @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @redecoratestan @kpopgirlbtssvt @scarletsloveletter @princess-pebbles-things @messymissy @schneeflocky @readerhead @thegreengoop @charmedkim @queerponcho @selfryed
#request#this is fucking ass omg#matt murdock#matt murdock smut#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock fanfic#matt murdock one shot#matt murdock imagine#matthew murdock smut#matthew murdock#matthew murdock x you#daredevil
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𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐢𝐱 | 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐤
requested by anonymous
A/N: subby Matt is so special to me so I just had to make this a fic where reader overstimulates Matt bc asdfgjkll just yes!!! I hope you guys like this!
“O-ohh, fuck, I can’t. I can’t,” Matt whimpers as he buries his head in the sheets beneath him.
“Aww, yes you can, baby. You can give me one more. I know you can,” you murmur through pouted lips. “Come on, be a good boy for me. Give me one more. Just one more.”
Matt groans deeply, almost sounding defeated, as he slumps into the mattress. You’d already made him cum twice so far. First in your mouth, and then second with your strap seated deep in his ass. You were still seated in him now, your hips pushed flush against him.
“Come on babyboy, you can do it. Do it for me. Just one more,” you purr as you slowly, so slowly, start to rock your hips into him again.
He groans, a sound somewhere between pleasure and pain. But he pulls himself up again, holding himself up on his arms and knees again.
“That’s it baby,” you praise, stroking his lower back slightly as you steadily increase your pace.
Matt moans and gasps incoherently, his head completely dizzy and fucked out. You moan quietly at the sense of pride it gives you. You’d only been fucking him again for a few minutes and you already tell he went going to last long this time. His groans were getting higher in pitch. His arms were trembling where he struggled to hold himself upright. You quickly reach around to grab his swollen and sensitive cock, starting to stroke him in time with your thrusts.
His responding groan is downright sinful, his head dropping down as his face twists and contorts with the intensity of the pleasure. He’s so sensitive that just your steady stroking and fucking motion has him spilling all over the bedsheets again. He whimpers, almost crying, as he cums again, his entire body trembling.
“That’s it, such a good boy for me,” you groan praise as you gently fuck and stroke him through his third climax.
His body starts to convulse, his arms giving out as he falls onto the mattress again. You coo praise at him soflty as you stop stroking him and slowly pull your strap out of him. You move to lie next to him, stroking his sweat streaked hair lightly, your fingers dancing across his face as you reassure him tenderly.
“See? I knew you had it in you,” you smirk, placing a sweet kiss to his forehead.
Main Masterlist // Kinktober 2022 Masterlist
#stranger nightmare#kinktober 2022#matt murdock#matt murdock smut#matthew murdock#matthew murdock smut#matt murdock imagine#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x you#matthew murdock x reader#matthew murdock x you#daredevil#daredevil smut#daredevil x reader#daredevil x you
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Shhh, Quiet Please
Ahh ty for sending a WIP Title!
"Shh, Quiet Please" is a College!Matt Murdock x College!FReader 18+ fic set in the Columbia Law School library. It's a draft from my (very belated) Kinktober list for the prompt "public" 👀 College Matt is mischevious and an incorrigible flirt while offering to help Reader study for a shared class in a quiet corner of the library.
Here's a little snippet!
You huffed in frustration, unable to come up with any sort of answer to his quiz. You knew it was a softball question and that just increased your annoyance. Warily, you eyed Matt and then casually moved your gaze down to your textbook on the table. A little peek couldn't hurt…right? Your hand was halfway to the book when you were suddenly stopped by a soft but firm grip on your wrist.
"Ah ah, no cheating!" Matt shook his head at you in mock disappointment.
You were momentarily stunned at how he noticed your actions and caught you so easily but your mind immediately short circuited when he started rubbing his thumb in soothing, little circles over the back of your hand.
“Come on, you know the answer.” His tone was soft and sweet, intended to encourage you. He continued to hold your hand, turning it over and tracing across your palm with his fingers.
“Uh, could…could you repeat the question?” You stammered out, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment at how distracted you were by such a simple touch, but you still declined to remove your hand from his grasp.
#lysenfeu fics#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x reader#matthew murdock x reader#matthew murdock x you#matt murdock fanfic#matt murdock smut#asks#answered#wip title game
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day 15: face sitting - matt murdock.
warnings: f!reader. 18+ ONLY. oral sex (f rec), brief orgasm denial, face sitting/grinding, matty's praise kink
a/n: lmao i played myself using that pic because i couldn't stop looking at it trying to write this fucking drabble lmao. enjoy x
He's restless, fucking desperate to run his hands along your thighs and all but pull you against his mouth, especially with you hovering so damn close to his mouth... but he holds firm, muscles wound tight and heart thundering away against his ribs.
He can hear the way your head falls to watch him between you thighs, feels the way your muscles roll as you adjust your position, fucking tastes the tang of your cunt on his tongue and his jaw rolls, the sharp inhale of irritation doing nothing to temper his desperation.
"Patience, Matthew."
He exhales a semblance of a chuckle, his tongue darting along his bottom lip and bringing the taste of you deeper into his mouth.
"I'm trying, sweetheart."
"You're doing very well," your nails card through his hair and scratch lightly at his scalp, "are you comfortable?"
He nods, fingers digging into the sheets beside him. You shift closer and his head almost jerks up the rest of the way, the heat from your pussy a temptation he almost gives himself into...
...but, thankfully, he doesn't have to wait any longer.
The groan he lets out against your cunt is downright filthy as his tongue immediately pushes through your folds and buries into your entrance, probing along the soft walls and savouring the taste of you melting into his taste buds.
"Fuck Matty," you whine softly, fingers tangling in his hair and unable to resist grinding down onto his mouth.
His tongue finds your clit, smoothing over the swollen nerve with firms rolls of slick muscle, working you up and up and up... until he pulls away, returning to your cunt and collecting the arousal built from his ministrations straight from the source.
Tease.
His thoughts must mirror your own - you swear you feel his coy smile. It's blissful torture as he alternates where he focuses his attention, building the hot tightening in your core with slow, sensual rolls over your clit before letting the peak ebb again and again...
Enough.
Your fingers tighten firmly around his dark tresses and tug. He groans into you, mouth momentarily losing it's momentum. You take the lead, rolling softly against his mouth and manoeuvring his tongue to exactly where you need it.
One of his hands comes to run along the skin of your thigh, smoothing up and over your waist and rib cage until his fingers wind around and cup the soft flesh of your tit.
He delivers a harsh pinch to your nipple and you jolt in surprise, dragging harder down onto his jaw and relishing in the burn of his stubble against the tender skin of your thighs.
You feel him falter beneath you, the roguish confidence giving way to something softer, something more docile. His touch softens on you, and something churning in your gut tells you to do it again...
He melts into the bed the more you grind down against his face, rebuilding the flames he had been teasing and chasing the promise of release with every roll you focus his tongue on your clit.
"Is this... fuck - is this okay, Matty?"
He nods against you with a strangled groan, his hands clutching desperately at your hips and encouraging you to keep the steady little motion against his mouth. He's completely lost in you, drowning in waves upon waves of the taste and smell of you and he doesn't think he'll ever get enough.
Even now, with you taking what you need and practically using him for your pleasure, the only thought swirling through his mind is more, more, more -
"I'm gonna cum like this, okay? You keep still, pretty boy - you're doing so well. Let me get what I need, and then you can have whatever you want, okay?"
-
Reminder: taglists will not be used for kinktober. I’m tagging every fic with #foliskink22 if you want to follow along for the ride!
#foliskink22#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock x you#matthew murdock x reade#matthew murdcok x f!reader#matthew murdock x you#marvel fanfiction#daredevil fanfiction
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reciprocum - m.m.
Summary: According to Newton's third law, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Matt Murdock is a giver, and does not believe in taking in return. You, however, decide for him anyway.
Warnings: Fluff, no angst
A/N: Uhhh this is not edited or anything. It's 3:23 in the morning and I've been up trying to get this out of my head because it won't let me sleep otherwise.
Taglist: let me know if you want to be added or removed @freshabogados @shedaresthedevil @mattmurdockspainkink @matt-erialgirl @phoebe-danvers @saintmurd0ck @nelson-et-murdock @skvatnavle @mindidjarin @itwasthereaminuteago @1800-fight-me
Matt Murdock is a giver.
It's not any earth shattering revelation to you, to anyone really. Matt Murdock gives and gives and gives till he has nothing else left, then he gives some more. He offers his head to the people he helps through the firm, devotes his hands to every living being in Hell's Kitchen, and reserves his heart for those choice few he loves the truest.
Primarily, of course, you.
The three words uttered over and over again in the very space you both call home cannot even begin to cover it. It's the coffee in the morning, the takeout on the bad days, the planned dates and unplanned surprises. The socks on late sleepy winter nights. The open windows in stuffy summer heat. The flowers because he thinks you deserve them. The ring on your finger despite the voices in his head that tell him he doesn't deserve you. Your favorite spicy food from the deli across the city though just carrying it makes his eyes water. Your songs playing in the loft even though he never really gave Taylor Swift much thought before.
The open arms every time you need to sob. The patient ears that holds all your rambles to the same altar as holy gospels. The pride blazing his smile as you reach your goals. The mischief sparkling in his eyes as he teases you mercilessly before giving in, every single time.
The kisses that whispers love in your skin. Every sweetheart and baby and darling that makes your heart skip a beat. The way he seems to take a deep dive for your pleasure, and doesn't let up till you pull him away. Doesn't stop till you're sated, happy and sore in the best way.
Matt Murdock gives, but never takes.
The need is there, he knows. He can feel it, the buzzing in the back of his mind gets louder and louder and harder to ignore some nights. The fog in his brain that gets a little denser to trudge through some time. The suspended air around him, almost like walking through sludge, viscous and syrupy and dark. He knows he needs something. But he doesn't know what.
Matt Murdock gives and gives, but he doesn't ask. Because how would he? How could he? How do you ask for something you don't even know you need in the first place?
You know that. You know him.
You know he'd never ask for what he needs. He probably doesn't even believe he deserves it, deserves to loved and adored and cherished and missed and kissed and fucking showered in affection. He nods fervently when you murmur these against his lips, against his skin, and for a second, it feels like he may just believe in the good you see in him everyday.
But then the city breaks him down, brings out the Devil you love so utterly. And it's like the sandcastles drowned out by waves, and he doesn't believe all over again.
So now, you just make sure to ask for him.
A kiss on the cheek while he wolfs down his breakfast just so he's not late for the millionth time. A hug from the back when he's working on the couch that lingers. His favorite food, because home cooked meals have been scarce before in his life. Sitting together for dinner so you can hear him talk about the anything and everything. Reading to him so he can focus on your voice and let his mind drift away. Watching the umpteenth YouTube video just so you're doing his bandages and first aids properly. Massages for his sore muscles because not even Matt can deny he needs them, despite his insistence that you don't have to.
Pulling him close and draping yourself all over him, covering both your bodies with the blanket as you lay on the couch, you feel him snuggle close, soaking up everything his touch starved soul can without feeling like he's asking for too much. You kiss him at every single opportunity, feel his cheeks flush and his breath stutter as you map his face under your lips. You shower him with praise and worship and whisper how good he is, how loved he is, and feel the tension bleeding out of his tense shoulders as the ugly voices in his head calms down.
And the ones you claim to need for yourself.
When the city he loves so much breaks him down over and over again, you pull him over yourself, your bodies touching from head to toe, tell him you're cold and he's warm. When you hug him tight and don't let go because 'I just really needed it'. When you pepper kisses over his face cradled in your arms, because 'you look so cute when I do this!'. Hold his hand when you go out even though you know he doesn't need it because 'what if I slip and fall, you know how clumsy I am!' Flowers because 'they match your glasses!'. His songs on the speaker because 'my fiance has grandpa tastes so I'm preparing for my future as a grandparent'.
Truth is, you're a liar. You lie to the love of your life every. Single. Day.
You lie, because Matt Murdock gives, and never asks for anything in return. And the only way to give him what he needs, is to let him give you. Because he may refuse himself every single need, but you. You he never would. And so you take, every single time. Greedy as a miser, pooling your wins together to shower him in every good thing he deserves.
Matt Murdock is a giver, and that's okay.
You'll make sure he gives to himself too.
#matt murdock#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x gn!reader#daredevil born again#daredevil#daredevil x reader#daredevil x you#daredevil fanfiction#daredevil fic#matthew murdock#matthew murdock x you#matthew murdock x reader#jace.fic
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Crossing the Line || M.M.
Pairing: professor!Matt Murdock x college!reader (afab)
Summary: You’ve developed a close friendship with Professor Murdock over the years, hiding your true feelings militantly. A few months prior to graduation, you come to him in distress and finally find out how he feels about you.
Includes: fluff, smut, teacher/student relationship, no gendered language, no y/n, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, nondescript hormonal birth control, professor murdock
Words: ~3.5k
A/N: Thank you so so much to the lovely folks who offered to beta and proof my first fic, including @thegreengoop and @scarletsloveletter!! And please feel free to hit me up with comments or feedback, even prompts! Likes and reblogs also let me know you like my work :) Enjoy!
Disclaimer: MINORS DNI. I do not condone the theft of content I create and share.
Warmth, strength, a certain crispness of his pressed shirt or his fading cologne—you're not sure which—and tenderness. That is all you can feel, all you can take in from the world as he holds you in a gentle hug.
This hug, this warmth, with your arms under his, his left arm wrapped around your back and other hand squeezing your neck, this has come after years of wondering if he knew how you felt about him, if he felt the same way. You've also spent these years wondering if your feelings are real or if they're childish—some immaturity, some need for attention and validation you never grew out of. But looking into his brightening face and lifted posture every time you meet, seeing the wildness in him and yourself throughout all of your excited discussions, you know it's real. Whether or not he thinks about you in bed at night the way you do him, it's real. It's friendship, at least. Companionship probably not unlike what he's had with other students before. Or so you thought.
You've known Professor Murdock for a little over two years, taking his classes every other semester or so, visiting his office hours to chat when you aren't his student. The two of you have developed an easy relationship; you respect each other, delight in each other, never get too close but enjoy a comfortable distance—or rather an appropriate closeness—you found after a while. He knows your work and you know his instruction. Each of you knows the other's passions well, each of you knows the other's fears and holds them softly in your heart.
Matt's a young professor and a great one at that. Other than his obvious, somehow humble charm, the way he instantly connects with his students enchanted you from the day you met. He has the sharpness you and your peers strive for and hope is only a few years away, and he encourages you all, giving you the support and inspiration you need to get there. Though, he likes to tell you that you're sharp, that you're years ahead of him. Any compliment hinting at an equality between the two of you births a thousand butterflies in your stomach, and elsewhere. When you explain your latest research project or what you think of the last novel you read and he looks utterly captivated, you can't help but want him to get up, close the door, and lock it before returning to you in a passionate fever. Just the idea of the sound of the lock clicking, the shift in the air it represents, makes you swoon inside, drool like Pavlov's dog. Tick.
You went to him in need today, catching him after his smallest class as the room would be next in coziness and remoteness after his office. No office hours today. Today, the day you received a response from your dream grad school. Your application was denied. You applied to others, of course, but you can't help the tears begging to spring forward with defeat. You feel as though you've failed. How could you really be as sharp as he says you are? As sharp as he repeatedly praised you for being throughout the application process? You shared it all with him. And now it's ruined.
You walk through the door as the last few students part. He's gathering his things and readying to leave. He doesn't notice you right away, your steps gentle and voice paralyzed. When he turns to the door you break the silence.
"Professor Murdock…" you struggle to sigh, choked up. He recognizes your voice instantly, his frame rupturing in a small jolt and face taking a delighted, curious expression. This fades a little once he realizes the pain he heard in your speech.
"Hey, are you alright?" He sets his briefcase down and removes his glasses—he knows it's just the two of you now—before moving toward you with urgency.
"Yeah, n-no…I didn't get in. I was rejected. The others, I don't know, I'll probably get into one, but—"
He presses a hand to your shoulder, holding for a moment before moving for the door. He gently guides you away from the frame as he reaches to close it. You hear a tick, the lock. Nerves, arousal, fear, sadness, lust all rip through you and mix together. You're shaking and melting at the same time.
"It's alright, it's okay," he offers as he turns back to you, "I'm so sorry."
He hears your quiet sniffle and realizes tears must be coming down. He can sense that you're completely frozen. He steps even closer and wraps himself around you. A hug to thaw. You feel a hand on your neck, comforting, an arm around you, strong, his chest on yours and your face to his collar. You breathe him in and begin to release into it.
Fuck.
Years without this. Years without touch. Years without a hand to the arm or a playful shoulder nudge. You even skipped handshakes, too cordial. You would never have brought yourself to make contact. You didn't want to cross a boundary, you wanted to show respect, thought it should be on his terms. Or maybe you were just worried initiating a single touch would let him onto you, would make him wonder how you felt, pity you for your schoolyard crush and become cold. Now you're questioning whether that was the right choice. Fuck it all if this is how intoxicating his body feels.
With a final squeeze, he lets you go. He doesn't shift back or away from you, instead brings a hand to your chest. What is he doing? The flat of his hand is large, larger than yours. Looking down you see just how much of your chest it covers.
"Your heart is beating so fast," he almost whispers, bringing your attention to his voice, "your breathing is quick."
You bring your gaze up, it's been too long since you looked into his face. The confrontation makes you release and look down again.
"Am I making you nervous?" He gently suggests.
You nod, releasing a small "yes."
"What can I do?" You feel his body tense a little, likely in fear of making the wrong move. He begins to move away, but you bring your hand to his wrist, keeping his hand pressed to your heart.
The two of you spend a moment like this, close but far apart, both unsure. As the seconds pass you bring your attention back to your hand on his wrist and start to rub his skin with your thumb, holding him just a bit tighter. He shifts forward again, an inch closer to you, and you look up to examine his face. Another moment.
"Do you want me," he pauses before finishing and lowers his voice, "to touch you?"
You nod and lean into him a bit, earlier tears making it hard to speak again. He smiles softly at the silence.
"You have to say it, yes or no. I need to hear you tell me."
You swallow, trying to break through your nervousness and arousal, out of your body, to talk.
"I want you to touch me," you produce with some mustered up confidence. It's one of the only things you're truly certain of right now.
With your approval he moves both hands to grip your waist. The pressure draws a sigh from you, encouraging him to rub your sides with his thumbs. You're completely submerged in his presence. The small movements send electric waves to your core. The feeling is so intense, he might be all you'll ever need.
Then you realize what's really happening. You place your hands on his chest to balance the contact between you. He's touching you. He wants to touch you. He locked the door. There is something in this. There is something in him.
"You…do you like this?" you ask, needing now to hear it from him. He furrows his eyebrows just slightly, stressing your nerves again. What if he doesn't?
"Yes," he starts with a timidity you're not used to hearing in his voice, "I do. I want to…I've wanted to. It's not- I couldn't…touch you."
You can't help but smile. There's total peace, total clarity. He's nervous too. He wants you. He wants to touch you. Not only that, he has wanted to touch you all the while you wanted to touch him. Neither of you could do it, could break the boundary, cross the line, show yourselves. The intimacy is more intense in the conversation between you than in the physical connection. The potential energy in the room has reached its height now that you know he feels the same way about you. You know the drop is about to come. You're prepared now. You're confident.
"I've wanted you since we met." You admit softly.
He recites with sincerity, "I've wanted you since we met. It's only grown."
You step an inch toward him, closing what miniscule gap there was. The two of you join in a kiss, linking perfectly. A soft, warm, inspired kiss, mouths like puzzle pieces, instantly wanting more. He wraps an arm around your lower back to lift your waist to his before bringing a hand up to rest on your jaw. You're deepening the kiss together into a slow, sloppy mess, well-choreographed and intoxicating. It's all either of you need for a few minutes, quickening the pace and moving together, pushing and pulling, feeling each other, flowing with intuition.
You break from each other and he guides the two of you behind his desk. Resisting the magnetic force drawing you together, he slides the desk chair out and motions for you to sit. He kneels with a shining smile, using the arm of the chair to guide himself before you.
"Do you know what you want?" He asks, wanting to establish a serious level of understanding.
"I…don't know. I like what we have. I liked that," you grab his hand for more touch, "I like this. I want to be…us. It feels natural," the truth charms you as you speak it.
"It does. It feels natural. I love being with you, talking to you. The closer we got, the closer I wanted to be. I couldn't let myself reach out. I was afraid of doing something you didn't want, even if it seemed like you did want it."
Seeing him be so vulnerable, it's huge. You've always felt quicker to show that side of yourself. It's harder to draw out from him. He's the professional, after all. You want to show him he's safe, reassure him.
"I understand. I felt the same way. It's not something we could really talk about or…try. I couldn't touch your arm or reach for your hand like I would with any coffee date that's going well," that earned a chuckle from him, and subsequently you, before continuing, "I'm graduating in a few months. What if we saw each other off campus? I'm not taking any more of your classes this year."
"Yeah. I'd love that," he answers with a bittersweet smile, "but what do we do, now?"
His expression is disappointed despite the excitement, almost pained. It's hell to see a face that sad on him. You want to make it better for both of you, you know he'll only respond to your initiative. Maybe you should wait, give it a few days at least, but you can't. Not with him kneeling before you. You've been aching this whole time, trying to suppress the bubbling desire, but you can't. It doesn't have to be perfect, but you want to feel him. You just want to do it, save the slow and sensual for other times, create something out of the passion between you right now.
You slide the chair back out from under you and meet him on the floor. Wrapping a hand around his neck, you decide to pop the bubble.
"I want you, now."
With that you crash into each other, fiending for friction in a new kiss, pressing lips and bodies close together, both on your knees like sinners. You push against him but he wins out, pinning you to the floor. He begins to slide kisses along your jaw, down your neck, retiring at your collarbones. It almost tickles, his soft lips to such thin skin. As a hand of his feverishly traces your body, gripping around your side and rubbing down to your pelvis, you bring one of yours to the nape of his neck with the other around his body to hold him close. His thumb rubs the crease of your hip, the line that leads to your core, causing you to tug on his smooth brown locks.
"Matt…" you call softly.
"Mm?" he questions, lips still connected to your body.
"Come up here," you command, nearly breathless.
He complies, bringing his head up to meet your face. You lift yourself to connect and bring him down with you in another kiss, letting a hand search his trousers.
"Christ," he moans as you graze the strained fabric. His voice in such ecstasy is like music. No, something more than music. It's a heavenly sound that wraps you up in the same pleasure it expresses. You need to hear more.
"Need you, please," you whine, adding pressure to his crotch with your hand.
"Okay, fuck," he responds with a low, almost cracking voice.
The two of you begin to rise, him standing easily as you prop yourself up on your hands. "Matt," you call, prompting him to lean down, wrap an arm around your back, and lift you with surprising strength. You had noticed his build before, the toned shape of his arms through his shirts, but you had no idea he had such power. Realizing what that means for the moments to come has your legs fluttery and core aching.
"On the desk," you tell him.
His face lights with a ravenous grin. You sense an animalistic hunger in his voice despite the questioning tone when he asks if you're sure.
"Please," you add, and he reaches a hand out to find the desk before lifting you up onto it, again with a surprising, arousing ease. The second your ass reaches the wood you push off your bottoms and he helps pull them down and release them from you. Going in for another kiss he allows his hands to rub your thighs, inching closer and closer to your dripping center.
You bring him into a deep kiss, pulling on his lip as you part. You want him to know how starved you are for him, all of him. He begins to circle your folds, lavishly spreading your juices. As he circles your clit, you plead, out of breath. He gets the message and plunges in, working you with a rhythmic pace that draws blissful gasps unlike any you've made before. He uses his fingers masterfully, applying pressure where you need it and letting you bask in the pleasure for what feels like hours.
"Let me hear you," he moans into your ear, "tell me how it feels…being fucked by my fingers."
"Shit, Matt, so good…it feels so good," you answer him, reaching a pornographic tone.
It goes on, bringing you close but not there. You know what you need. You try to return your attention to the man in front of you through half-lidded eyes: you want him to feel the pleasure you do. You want to feel him fill you up.
"Need…" you gasp in reaction to his thrusting fingers and bring a hand to fumble with his belt, "more, please."
He grunts against your hand, losing reservation. You can tell he's about to snap, and you want nothing more than to see that side of him. To be on the receiving end of his crushing lust, to be desired and taken.
He digs his head into your shoulder as he urgently reaches for his belt, swatting your hands away. His belt is undone, his zip down, everything off in mere seconds. You can't do anything but sit there and watch as he moves frantically, clearly falling apart. You're drooling at the sight, your stomach turning with lust, your cunt throbbing uselessly against the cool surrounding air.
Taking his cock in his fist before you, he brings the fingers once inside you to your lips. He presses them into your willing mouth as he begins to pump himself. You swirl your tongue, taking in your own sweetness, and look down to see his tip already leaking precum. He removes his fingers, you brace against him, and he lifts and spreads your thighs. You whisper a sultry "fuck me, Matty" into his ear, and he finally snaps, pushing into you ruthlessly with a groan. You feel split in half, feeling his full length against your walls, filling every inch of you.
The thrusts are hard, fast, needy, sloppy. He's rutting into you and you're taking it perfectly. You can hear everything, so much you don't know what's what, whose moans are whose. The sounds engulf you, and you can only imagine what it's like for him. He's panting, grunting, breathing against your neck and jaw, attempting every so often to aim a kiss to your lips despite the crude pace of your bodies.
You lose a string of expletives in the ecstasy, responding to each thrust, "fuck, Matt, god…Matt."
He gives you praise between his grunts, moaning by your ear, "shit…you feel so good…you're so good…taking me…made for me…"
His movements lose even more rhythm, panting becoming strained as your own whines heighten. He's close. You reach for your wet, aching clit. Swirling effortlessly, you make hurried circles. The dual pleasure is beyond: you would see stars if the moaning man before you weren't a prettier sight.
"Fuck!" He shocks you with the exclamation, slowing his movements in frustration. Breathless, he struggles to blurt out "b-birth control?"
"Yes, Matty, please, keep going," you urge him to continue, assuaging his fear.
With that he slams into you hard, making you cry out against each thrust.
"I'm…" he fruitlessly tries to let the declaration escape.
"Me too, me too," you cry over him, digging your heels into his hips and working your clit fast.
Your orgasm hits. Warmth spreads from your core to your toes, ecstasy bursting through your body with such force you might break. In the delicious throes of your orgasm you feel Matt spill inside you, thrusting loosely through his own release. Hearing muted, you don't know what sounds either of you let loose at the height of pleasure, but you're sure you were practically screaming.
The two of you come down, panting and leaning against each other. Your heels keep him inside you, not ready to lose contact. Your exhales deepen and calm. Tucking in his chin, he presses a kiss to your neck before meeting your lips.
"Professor Mur-" you catch yourself, issuing the correction with some embarrassment, "Matt." You just want to feel his name in your mouth once more.
He smiles, but it quickly bursts into a grin, earning a satisfied giggle from you.
"That was…" he cracks through an uncontrollable smile.
"Amazing," you finish for him, adding, "thank you." You release him and hop down as he shifts back. He brings his hands to your waist once more, and you clutch his arms to rest in the warmth of his skin.
"Call me Matty again, please," he surprises you with the request, squeezing your waist.
"Thank you, Matty," you coo through a smile.
He nods softly. After a pause, he says, "you're going to be okay. You're going to be just fine. You'll be amazing at any program. It's you who makes it good, not the school."
You tear up quick at the consolation, overcome with adoration for the man before you. You slide your hand down his arm, pulling his fingers to your wet cheek and allowing him to swipe a streak with his thumb.
"Thank you, for everything, Matt."
"You're welcome. Thank you."
You give his hand a squeeze and release it so the two of you can re-dress yourselves.
"Would you like a ride home? I’ll call us a cab," he offers, grabbing his briefcase and replacing his glasses.
"That would be wonderful," you answer, buttoning your pants.
Matt moves forward and you approach him, stopping him with a hand to his chest. He leans down and meets your lips with his, connecting deeply like you both need it more than air. You part slowly and bring your lips to his ear.
"You're still dripping into my panties, Professor Murdock," you whisper, grasping onto the fleeting sense of lust.
Matt brings a free hand to grab your ass, replying, "would you like a ride to my home?"
"Yes, please, Matty!" You return with a playful cheekiness, as if all he offered were a homemade sweet or extra credit opportunity.
He snorts at your quip, muttering "you're too sharp. Let's go."
#matt murdock smut#matthew murdock smut#daredevil smut#marvel smut#marvel#daredevil#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x y/n#matthew murdock x reader#matthew murdock x you#matthew murdock x y/n#daredevil x reader#daredevil x you#daredevil x y/n#fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#professor murdock#professor!murdock#daredevil fanfiction#marvel fanfic#daredevil fanfic#matt murdock#matthew murdock#professor!matt#first fic
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Service Dog
A/N: This was inspired by my families attempt to get my dad to agree adopting a dog and training him to be a therapy dog, so either I can take it with me on a bad anxiety day or to an exam or my mom into school. Service dogs aren't the same as therapy dogs, but they help people too.
Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader (it's mostly gender neutral but then I used girlfriend, I am so sorry. Wanted it to be gender neutral)
Warnings: Fluff
Summary: You want a dog; Matt needs a little convincing...
Matt could hear your heartbeat from the street. It was fast and nearly all over the place. You were excited about something. A smile etched his way onto his face, his curiosity building too. Your step pattern was fast, like you were speed walking to their office.
The door downstairs opened as Matt closed the case file he finished reading. Your steps grew louder, your heartbeat hammering even faster against your ribcage. He could hear the hesitate to open of the office door and the deep sight you let out every time you were nervous.
You greeted Foggy with a sweet smile and a wave before walking into Matt’s office. The man in question sat in his chair with his arms slightly crossed and an eyebrow raised. He “looked” into your general direction. “What’s got your heart raising like that, sweetheart?” You chuckled nervously. You pushed the chair away from you and sat down. “I know we talked about it a lot. And I know you have your opinions about it but hear me out.”
Matt sighted and rubbed his temples with his fore and middle finger while you bit your lip. “We talked about it. We aren’t ready. The firm is still not there were it used to be and with all the Blib related cases both Fog and I are swimming in it’s not a great idea to start-“ You abruptly stood up and walked around your boyfriend’s office table.
Pulling out your phone to look at the picture, you stopped behind Matt to wrap yourself around his shoulders. “Honey, I know. And I know what a big responsibility a dog brings with them but listen. There is a vet rescuing dogs from farms which don’t want the puppies and putting them online. I also found a dog school specialising in training service dogs for disabled people. Service dogs can be taken into a court room. So if I can’t take care of him or take him to work he could assist you. You have to work with the dog because he should lead you and not you running off. Fog agreed to take him if the devil is needed.”
Matt sighted. Clearly his best friend was on board with his girlfriend’s idea. “I’m not gonna win this, am I?” You chuckled and kissed his scratchy chin. “Nope.” Matt nodded before making a gesture to tell him about the dog. You squealed slightly, cautious not to screech into his ear. “Okay, there are three potential dogs. First there is a brown Newfoundland. He looks like a friendly brown bear cub and it’s so fluffy. And then there is a German Sheppard. The poor thing looks so lost in the picture but has the most beautiful brown eyes after yours of course. And last but not least a Golden Retriever. I wish I could show you but the dog screams friendly.” Matt chuckled. “Well they all sound good. But they all are big dogs.” You sighted. “I know. But the flat is big enough for them. So what do you say?”
Matt tipped his head back. A sign he was thinking about it. “Once my dad accidentally bought a dog calendar for the kitchen and in January there was this big fluffy Newfoundlander. I wanted one but dad told me he would be too big to fit into the apartment. But the Sheppard sounds good too. Good guard dogs. What are their genders?” “Both females.” Matt nodded. “Let’s get the Newfoundlander.” You squealed while jumping up and down.
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#matt murdock x gender neutral reader#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matthew murdock#matthew murdock x reader#matthew murdock imagines#matthew murdock x you#netflix daredevil#daredevil netflix#daredevil x reader#daredevil#31 days of december
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October 15 27 | formal wear, public sex, public masturbation | Matt Murdock
18+ ONLY MINORS DNI
summary: Here is my next kinktober entry. I am SO sorry for how late it is. Anyway. Here it is! Also he will always be dominant in my mind (or a switch in times of threesomes), and I'm sorry but that's not changing. Ever.
You get jealous when Elektra texts Matt and decide to act out, and Matt gives you a bit of punishment.
warnings: public sex, public oral (male and female receiving), unprotected sex
tags: people that I know enjoy my Matt Murdock works...@grippingbeskar @sweetieswiftie @castlesnchurches
You felt positively sinful, lying to Matthew about where you were going.
To be fair – he lied first.
You had intercepted his text message. Elektra. If there was anyone to make you feel insecure in your relationship with Matthew, it was her. She was flawless. And you? Well, you could afford to lose a few pounds, for starters. When you brought up your insecurity in your weight Matthew always reassured you that you were perfect until you started to believe him. Then, you met her. She made it very clear very quickly that something had been there. So, the text message asking him why his sweet ass was taking his time getting to the meeting point? You saw red.
So, when it came time to go with him to some gala, you called up your best friend to see if she could get you into Dante’s instead. She ran pr for the nightclub and squealed at the idea of you going, “Yessss, girl! Time to rebel against the uppity choir boy.”
Naturally, you had told her about the text message. You couldn’t help but laugh at her before shushing her, though you weren’t sure why. You were in the apartment by yourself. What you didn’t know was that Matt’s knuckles were just about to come down on your door when he heard your friend’s comment. So instead, he stood there, eavesdropping through the walls on your conversation as you continued, “So, what do I wear anyway, Emily? I don’t really have trashy wear.”
“Well first off”- you could hear the scoff escape her –“rude. Secondly, I can come over and help you figure it out. But general rule something short, tighter, and girl if you don’t wear that dark crimson lipstick I got you, you will be doing your lips a disservice. And wear your hair up. Guys like the illusion of having something to grab hold of while thinking of fucking you.”
Matt took a sharp inhale when he heard Emily say, anger clouding his mind. He was about to burst into your apartment and fuck you until he was satisfied that no one else could compare when you gave a mock sound of horror, “Em, I’m not trying to get fucked. I just want to blow off some steam. Maybe feel a little attractive now that Elektra is back in town.”
Fucking Elektra, Matt thought to himself. That must have been why you got out of there so fast. You had seen the text message on his screen before he could unlock his phone and listen to it. He knew space was likely what you needed though, not him trying to reassure you that nothing was happening. Deep down you knew that. You had to know that. You were the one he loved.
Later that night, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, hair extensions making it longer, almost to your ass. The dress you chose was white. It was a bold choice on your part, considering it showed every curve for better or worse. Especially in the front. The neckline dipped extremely low, the fine netting panel down the middle of your chest allowing visual access. While you were focused on your love handles in it, however, Em had responded to the picture you sent with a heart eye emoji followed by BITCH your ass is forever the object of my envy. You won’t be paying for a damn thing tonight. Laughing, you responded, Okay, but it isn’t too short?
You watched the ellipses until her response dinged, Baby girl I promise you it isn’t.
Deciding this was it, you slipped on your favorite pair of heels. They were light pink and left you taller. They didn’t quite make your legs look leaner which would have been nice in this dress, but it would have to do. Then you brushed on that red lipstick Emily had given you and took one last look in the mirror, before the most devious smile graced your lips. Then, your eyes looked down at the text message you had sent Matthew with no response about how you weren’t feeling well. Probably busy with Elektra.
The club was loud, the lights rhythmically moving with the beep bass of the music. You were swinging your hips to the sound on the floor, holding your drink high in the air, not caring about whoever it was that was grinding against you. You’d had just enough alcohol to wash away those inhibitions and you felt…good. Turning to face whoever it was, you were met by blue eyes that were darkened by the lighting, a wicked smile on his lips that showed you exactly the kind of thoughts running through his mind. And, as you thought of Matthew, you chased the thoughts away of him and Elektra by simply tipping your drink back and gulping it down.
You continued like this for a while, his hands inching slowly up your legs, thumbs grazing beneath the fabric of your dress to brush along the curve of the bottom of your ass. At the same time, his head dipped down, lips greedily sucking at your neck, and you felt yourself moan while at the same time wanting to cry. A stranger made you feel more wanted than Matthew. Again, the thought of him had to crop up and ruin a good thing, but you were out of drink. You spoke loudly, so your nameless friend would hear you, “I need another drink. Meet you on the side of the dance floor?”
He didn’t give a verbal answer. Rather, he squeezed your ass cheek before giving it a spank and winking at you, disappearing into the crowd as he moved to the side.
You walked the other way to the bar and as you took a second onto the other side, hands grabbed at you from the darkness as another song picked up. A cover of Blue Monday. The heavy bass of the song drowned out your cry for help, a sense of fear running through you as you were pinned to the wall, a man against your back. It was fear until you heard a familiar voice fall on your ear, “Relax, angel.”
Matthew had been waiting on the sides for a bit now, waiting to be able to catch hold of you. He was angry. However, his anger only increased as his free hand explored you, the other holding you in place with his arm around your neck. The fabric of your dress stopped so quickly on your legs. His fingers replaced those that you had only just felt, before yanking the fabric up. You let out a whimper as you felt the air of the club hit your ass cheek, the thong you wore offering no protection.
Embarrassed, you tried to move to pull the dress down, despite being in the shadows. Matt made it a point to further pin you in place before you felt him inhale along your neck. You also knew he could most likely sense the broken blood vessels there. He chuckled lowly, “It seems you’ve been a bit more than just naughty, in my absence angel.”
You went to move again, and he responded with a firm smack on that exposed ass cheek.
Immediately, arousal started.
Matt reached around your hips and pulled, guiding them out. He kissed the back of your neck as he freed himself from his dress pants. He was still wearing his suit from that gala. A moan escaped you as he stopped kissing you and pulled hard on your hair instead, yanking your head back and creating an arch in your back before he spoke again, “I think you should be punished angel.”
You felt his leg part yours as his hand ripped your pretty panties and you nearly moaned as his fingers toyed with your already wet pussy, “For what?”
“I can smell someone else on your neck, angel. And we discussed this. You’re mine. Only mine.” Before you could respond, he shoved those panties in your mouth and covered your mouth with his hand.
You wondered how he could possibly punish you here, in this club, but it was Matthew, and you should know better. Your eyes grew large, and your breath fell heavy on his hand as he began to finger you right there. He had two fingers inside of you, working ruthlessly against the front wall of your pussy until you were desperately wanting to cum. You were so close. If this was his idea of punishment, you should act out more, you thought to yourself. That is, until he suddenly stopped his ministrations.
All you could do was buck your hips in protest. Matt, meanwhile, let his hand drift up and frowned when he felt the mesh of your dress, “My angel wanted to be a whore tonight, then fine.”
With no hesitation he ripped the mesh away and let it drop to the floor. Taking his hand from your mouth, it slipped inside of your dress and found your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as his hand covered in your arousal continued its work. Your moans were muffled by your panties still in your mouth, saliva beginning to drool and eyes closed, and you were close to releasing once more when he stopped. Your eyes flew open at the realization, and you bucked your hips back in frustration at the loss of contact. He wasn’t going to let you cum. Tears pricked at your eyes and your protests were muffled and Matt smiled before nipping at the sensitive spot beneath your ear, fingers continuing once more. You could feel your arousal on your upper thighs. Little did you know, that’s exactly what Matthew wanted. He nearly growled when he spoke up again, “I’m going to show you just how much I love this body of yours, angel. Starting with these legs of yours. Put them together.”
A bit uncertain, you put your legs together as he asked, and a moan broke through when you felt the head of his cock press between them. However, your frustration was immediate when you realized he wasn’t inside you. Instead, his cock was nestled right beneath your pussy, peeking out between the front of your thighs. He slowly moved back and then thrust before grinning and telling you, “Gonna fuck those perfect thick thighs of yours until that delicious pussy is drenching me, angel.”
Then, he started moving. You could hear every single sound he made. Every moan, every shaky exhale, and it only turned you on more. God damnit. You were giving him exactly what he wanted. You were drenching him, and you could feel the smile against your neck.
However, in a move that surprised you, he pulled back and turned you around to face him. That was when you barely saw him in the darkness, and relaxed when you realized the likelihood of someone else seeing was little to none. However, your relaxation was very short lived as he yanked those panties free and tucked them into his back pocket kissed you deeply before saying, “You smell so good for me angel, I can’t not taste you.”
You watched as he slowly got to his knees before you. Gently, he guided your left leg over his shoulder, and you could feel his hot breath falling on your clit right before his tongue lazily ran along your folds. You let out a cry at the contact and even though it was a public place, Matt’s tongue left you in a stupor as you lost yourself to him. Your hips moved greedily, and your hands found themselves clutching Matthew by the hair as you more or less rode his face right there before he pulled back. Again, right before you were about to cum.
That was when he stood up and leaned in again as you pulled your dress down, “Tell me, angel, are you that much of a whore that you want to cum that badly?”
“M’your whore, Matthew. I want you to make me cum. Please.”
Matt grinned wickedly and you worried what was coming next, “Can you run for me angel? let me find you from the sound of your breaths and the scent of this alone.” You watched as he brought those panties up to his face and inhaled them, before actually licking his lips. Your thighs clenched together instinctively at the thought.
“What happens when you find me?” You were breathless but Matthew heard you.
He slowly tucked himself back in his pants, still achingly hard for you, before answering, “Then I pull you back into the darkness and fuck you like the good girl you are until you cum around my cock with that perfect pussy of yours, angel.”
You watched as he stepped back, taking a few moments to realize you were meant to start running. You stumbled back into the crowd of people, back into the light, the last thing you saw in the darkness Matthew’s devilish smirk. Your heart was pounding. The idea of running excited you. Was it because of the promise of what came when you got caught? Absolutely.
Matthew entered the sea of people as well. As he slowly parted through, he listened intently, filtering out the noises and the sounds until he homed in on you. He smiled gently. You were so close, but he was going to let this continue for a little longer. After all, as he trailed behind you, yourself oblivious, he could smell your arousal building. You were enjoying this. You did always manage to surprise him though.
He let it go on for only a few more minutes though, until he seized hold of you in the crowd from behind and slowly led you to the darkness again.
You turned to face him and as you did, you jumped up and wrapped your legs around him as he led you further back until you hit a wall. There was only Matthew. You were so focused on his mouth on yours, the roughness of his hands on your ass beneath your dress, the feel of his erection in his pants pressing against you, that you didn’t even notice the four of five people that quickly backed out of the area and went to a different area of the club. Matthew knew they were there though and chuckled, “My angel gets so needy when she gets desperate for my cock, doesn’t she?”
Frustration sounded on your voice as you said his name with a bit of frustration before adding on, “Would you please fuck me already?”
He laughed loudly and adjusted himself so he could free his cock again, lining it up with your pussy, sinking into you as he responded, “Well, when you put it like that, angel, how can a man say no?”
Whatever cheeky response you would have had died on your lips as he filled you completely and stretched you so deliciously. Then, he shifted your weight so that you were sitting against the wall, legs now spread out instead of around him, hands holding you by your thighs and he was relentless as he kept driving into you at a punishing pace. Even with lights, you would be seeing stars, the head of his cock hitting your cervix in the most perfect way, and you quickly came undone around him, pussy erratically tightening around him as you called out his name over and over. He shouted out for you to hear, "Fucking perfect, a body made for me. Only me."
But he wasn’t done with you, not yet.
“On your knees for me, angel.”
He held onto your chin as you lowered and calmly explained, “I’m going to cum all over those perfect tits and slutty dress. So, everyone knows you’re a whore, but angel…want to tell me just whose whore you are before I begin?”
You were breathless, and why were you turned on? “Y-yours, Matthew.”
“That’s right, angel.” Then, he kissed your lips again before he stood and slowly began pumping him right there in front of you, his back turned to anyone who might be able to see. However, it wouldn’t take a genius to realize.
The idea of being caught began to build up and your hand slowly worked to the apex of your highs until your fingers danced over your clit, rubbing slowly until a moan escaped you. Matt smirked and grabbed the back of your head, leading you to his cock. You opened your mouth for him and greedily licked and sucked until you could taste yourself mixed with precum and what Matt would give to see you right now. You worked yourself to another quick orgasm just as Matt buried himself in your throat, quickly pulled back and pumping once, twice, and as he promised, came all over your chest, both your tits and dress.
With that, he helped you up, and readjusted himself as you fixed your dress before slipping his suit coat off and offering it to you. His eyebrows rose as you pushed it back to him, “How will anyone know whose whore I am if I’m all covered up? Wanna walk me home though?”
Matthew took hold of your hand and licked your fingers clean before smiling and leaning in, breath on your neck, “You’re coming home with me, angel. So I can remind you over and over again how fucking perfect you are until there's no doubt in your mind what I think or feel. But I’ll gladly walk you there.”
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Loving this celebration! Congrats on doing so well your work totally deserves it! I have a bit of a challenge - May I ask for 9🍟 AND a 🥂 (dealers choice) with Frank or Matt?
— thankyou so much!!! and thankyou for this i had so much fun with it omg. sorry it took so long i swear i will get these done i am just slow lately. LUV YA!
—prompts:
🍟 9. kill me right now, then. do it.
🥂 4. how badly do you want me?
“Kill me right now, then. Do it.” Daredevil all but spits at you, using the last of his energy to thrash under your hold. It’s useless— you’ve got him pinned down, arms above his head, body weight keeping him underneath you. You tilt your head, nearly amused at his attempt to free himself.
“You think that little of me?” The black material wrapped around his eyes and head is drenched in rainwater and blood, so when he moves again, the tied up end slaps harshly against the concrete. “I’m not gonna kill you, baby.”
“I know what you do. It’s disgusting— merciless. I think nothing of you. You kill innocent people every day and you call it justice.” He says it all through gritted teeth, and you know it’s because if he relaxes that pretty jawline of his, he won’t be able to speak to you with so much hate— and a little bit of truth might just fall out.
“You wanna know what I think?”
“No.” You smile, and even though he’s tired his head tilts to the right just slightly, like he’s a puppy ready to listen for a command, knowing there’s a treat at the end of it.
“Yes, you do.” Your hands tighten around his wrists, and he groans in pain. Your heart is slamming in your chest— you don’t want to hurt him. You want to do the opposite to him, really, but he needs to crack first, and if all it takes is a little bit of pressure, then you’d apply it. Hard. “What I think, is that you want me.”
“I want nothing to do with you. I want you in prison, where you belong, and then I never want to see or hear from you again.” He seethes, and you free one of your hands, keeping his own pinned under one palm and using the other to grab his jaw.
“You always find me, but only when you know I’m alone. You grab at me, pin me down, knock me around a little, but you never pull the trigger.”
“I’m not like you—“
“I meant figuratively, altar boy. I know you— you wouldn’t kill me, but tell me one other person you’ve ever spent this long taking on. If you can tell me one time you’ve ever given up opportunities to take someone in, one time you’ve ever secretly hoped someone would beat you, or slowed yourself down to give someone time to get away— tell me anyone other than me that you think of late at night, with a hand around—“
“Fuck you.” His breathing was rapid and uneven, and you smile even wider now.
“It’s your dirty little secret, isn’t it? How you let me go again and again, let yourself get beat to shit, just for the chance you’d see me again.” You shuffle down a little, hips purposefully swaying in slow circles as you keep him in position. “It’s enough to make a girl blush. The Daredevil— having a little crush on me?”
“What do you want from me?” You lean down, watching as his breath hitches when the heat of your words brush against the underside of his jaw.
“What I want to know, is what do you want from me?” Your lips hardly touch his skin, but he nearly chokes on your name, as your hips shuffle a little lower, meeting his. “What do you want me to do to you? Tell me all those little fantasies you have, and if you do, I’ll make them come true right now. All you have to do is tell me. How badly do you want me?”
“I don’t want…” You’re the one who sucks in a low breath this time, the thin leather of your pants hiding nothing from you— he was hard, a solid outline pressing into your inner thigh. “Fuck. Fuck—“
“It’s okay, baby. You can tell me.” He shudders, and you slowly let go of his wrists above his head. You half expect him to throw you off, half to grab you and kiss you. What you don’t expect is for him to stay there, arms above his head, like he’s afraid to move. For a second you think you’ve read him wrong, and maybe this isn’t what he wants, but then his head turns and dips, and he kisses you.
It’s light and slow, his lips tentatively moulding against yours like he’s not sure you aren’t going to pull away and punch him again, so you use your now free hands to cup his face softly. He sighs, like the pain he was in just a second ago melts away, and when you swipe your tongue against his bottom lip he opens his mouth for you. Normally, you think Daredevil would kiss with dominance— a fever and passion that would have both of you fighting for top place, and one day you’ll get that too, but it’s been a long night for him and gives in immediately to you. The submission makes your head spin, and you indulge it for too long before pulling away, biting your lip as he leans forward to chase you back.
“Tell me to stop.” You whisper against his neck, trailing soft kisses down to where the tight seam of his shirt keeps him covered. “We can call this one a draw.”
“Don’t—“
“Don’t what?” You still, your stomach dropping.
“Don’t stop. Fuck— keep going.” His jaw goes slack as you feel his hips buck against you, a small moan vibrating against his skin at the feeling.
“You need me to keep going?” He nods, his hands finally coming down from above his head, skating gently along your sides. The cold night outside mixed with how soft he was touching you now had you shivering— he’s only ever touched you with the intent to hold you down, but now he wanted you above him, and he was all soft and sweet about it. It was enough to have you feeling dizzy, but you focused on your own movements, fingers tearing at the button of his pants and pulling them down.
One of his hands rests on your hip, the other bringing your face back to his. Your nose brushes against the black mask as you kiss him again, and he groans into your mouth when he feels your hand slip underneath the band of his boxers and wrap around his length. He’s hard and heavy in your hand, your thumb brushing over the tip of him making him jolt forward.
“Shit— ah, fuck just… just like that.” You imagine his eyes fluttering closed under the mask, and watch as his head falls back against the concrete.
“This what you thought about?” You say sickly sweet in his ear, and he lets out a pathetic sound that goes straight to your core, heat and electricity shooting down your spine. You stroke him up and down, kissing him between words. “What you needed?”
“Need you…” He manages before saying your name, a high pitched tone similar to when you punch him in the face. “Fuck, I—“
“That’s it, tell me what you want.” You encourage him, letting him take control of the kiss, moaning when his tongue expertly figures you out, knows what you need even though you’re the one asking him.
“This. Want you on top of me. Taking what you want.” You stroke him faster, your free hand resting on his lower stomach, feeling his abs tense with anticipation. “Oh fuck, slow down or I’ll—“
“So good, Matty. Relax and I’ll do whatever you want. Cum like this and I’ll take you home.” His face scrunches up and then relaxes, like for a second he was considering holding out but it just felt too good and he was so tired. He wasn’t lying— he needed this.
He moans long and loud, and with a few more pumps of your hand he spills onto his already ruined shirt. Your toes curl at the sound, at the sight of him completely blissed out, totally relaxed for the first time. His chest rises and falls and you can’t help but lean down to kiss him again, an action he returns with as much energy as he can spare.
You feel him smile lazily, and you take your time putting him back together, enjoying the whining sounds he makes when you run your fingers up and down his cock, sensitivity making him flinch away and toward you all at once.
You think he’d notice when he comes down from his high, but he just kisses you again and leans on you as you walk down off the rooftop and lead him towards your place. You think he’d say something before he buried his face between your legs, going down on you for hours. He never even brings it up when he finally drives into you, fucking you with all the energy and dominance you know he has. But he doesn’t. It’s like he’s ignoring it, not wanting to pop whatever bubble the two of you have made.
Because he needed this— he never brings up why you already know his name, and why when he takes the mask off, there’s never a shadow of doubt that you knew who he was.
#grippingbeskarsnightout#matthew murdock x y/n#matthew murdock x you#matt murdock x y/n#matt murdock x you#matthew murdock x reader#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock smut#daredevil x y/n#daredevil x you#daredevil x reader
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I Have ADHD
Fandom: Daredevil (MCU)
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (gender neutral)
Warnings: none? Bit of swearing and dangerous driving, basically just author indulging in self-indulgent writing
Word Count: 1643 words
Summary: You're late to an ADHD consultation appointment and you're terrifying the shit out of your boyfriend Matt by driving like a maniac.
A/N: So this is 100% a self-indulgent fanfic. I just got diagnosed with ADHD and it was genuinely one of the happiest moments of my life. So I decided to share this joy with anyone who wants to read it. I couldn’t stop smiling when I wrote this, just like I couldn’t stop smiling (and crying and laughing) when I got my diagnosis.
A/N 2: This has no relation to the show Daredevil at all (besides Matt being there) so you don’t need to have watched it to enjoy this fic. I honestly don’t expect many people to read it because this is pure indulgence, but if any of you do, I hope you enjoy 💖
A/N 3: I’d like to give a huge shoutout to my wonderful friend and beta-reader @221birl1823 for reading this and for being a huge support in this journey for me. Thank you for everything; this one’s for you.
“I’m late. I’m late. I’m fucking late.” You swerved through the traffic and flapped your hand at the car behind you when they slammed on their brakes and leaned on their horn. “Shit sorry sorry.”
“Killing us isn’t going to get you there any earlier,” Matt remarked dryly.
“Not helping.” But when you turned to glare at him, you noticed the death grip your boyfriend has on the dashboard and the slight green tinge to his cheeks. You eased up on the accelerator a bit and sighed. “Sorry, baby. I’m just stressed. I’ve been waiting for this appointment for six months and I’m late.”
You glanced at the clock again. 11:58. Your appointment was at midday, and you were still ten minutes away.
“I know.” He reached over to grip your hand in his, before ripping away to grip the dash again as you sped through a yellow light. “Just please get us there alive.”
Reluctantly, you did as he asked. Anyone else you probably would have told them to suck it up, but for Matt you’d do anything. Even be later than you already were. Plus, you couldn’t imagine it was fun being blind and being at the mercy of a speeding maniac. There was a reason he rarely let you drive—and it had nothing to do with living in New York.
When you were finally at a sensible pace again, Matt reached over to slide his fingers between yours. “Hey.”
You glanced over, squeezing his hand to let him know you were paying attention.
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
You furrowed your brow. You’d expected some kind and loving words, not him asking you to dredge up all your anxieties. But he had that earnest look on his face you never could say no to.
“Well, they could tell me I’ll have to wait longer which will only make me stress more. Or they’ll cancel my appointment for being late without notice. Or they’ll kick me out for good saying I should have gotten there earlier because they’re a fancy private fucking practice and they could do that!” As you listed all the worst-case scenarios you could, your anxiety started rising once more. You slammed on the brakes to avoid running up someone’s arse and flicked them the finger when they beeped at you.
“Okay. Well, if you have to wait longer, I’ll be with you to calm you down. If they cancel your appointment for being—” he checked the time “—six minutes late, then we’ll book it for the very next time we can, or demand to see someone else.” He tugged on your hand for your attention again. “And if they throw you out permanently, we’ll sue them.”
You snorted, leaning into him as you waited for the lights to turn green. “It’s a good thing I happen to know two great lawyers.”
He kissed your forehead. “Definitely a good thing. But I don’t think you’ll have to worry about it at all. You’ll be okay. It’ll go perfectly.”
You didn’t let go of him as you slammed on the accelerator and overtook a truck, and he gripped your hand tighter as you did.
You glanced at the clock again. 12:07. Anxiety stirred in your throat at the sight, but you took a deep breath and focused on the circles Matt was drawing on the inside of your wrist.
Everything’s going to be okay, you reassured yourself. It doesn’t matter that I’m late. It’s not the end of the world. If I have to wait longer that’s okay, and if they try to kick me out, I’ll glue my ass to that seat until someone’s free.
You took another breath, calming down before a car suddenly swerved in front of you. You tore your hand from Matt’s with a curse and swerved to the other lane, narrowly missing a motorcycle.
“You fucking asshole!” You glared at the other driver as you passed her. “Where’d you learn to drive? The fucking moon?”
She flipped you off without looking and you snarled as you rounded a corner.
“Are you talking about yourself?” Matt asked faintly.
You snorted, your mood rising instantly, and you pried his hand from the dash and wrapping it in yours. You pressed a kiss to the back of it, only smiling a little. “What are you saying about my driving, Murdock?”
“That you’re a menace.”
You grinned. Turning into the driveway, you slipped into a free park. “We’re here.”
“Next time we’re taking a cab.”
“A cab can’t make up for lost time like I can. If we’d gotten a cab, we’d have been late.”
“Later than we already are?”
You poked him in the chest, outraged. “Too soon.” You locked the car behind you and headed in.
Before you got to the door and your nerves could rise anymore, Matt grabbed your hand. “Hey, you’ll be okay. This is an ADHD clinic. They’re used to dealing with people with poor time management.”
You let out a shaky breath. “So I guess it’s a point in my favour that I’m late to a consultation where one guy decides if I meet the criteria another guy made up?”
His smile was a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Come find me when you’re done.”
With that he headed towards the coffee shop two doors down and you headed inside to face the music.
~~~
“We’ll start you off slowly, half a tablet today, two halves tomorrow, one and a half on day 3 and then two from then on. Try not to take them after midday as they could keep you awake later in the night.” The doctor folded his notebook. “Any questions?”
“Ah yeah, one.” You rubbed your fingers, squeezing the tension out of them. “So when I walk out of that door—” you gestured at the closed door to his office “—I have ADHD? Like I’m officially diagnosed with ADHD?”
He smiled. “Yes. You have ADHD.”
The air left you in a rush. “Okay. Right. Thank you.”
He nodded, turning back to his computer, and started typing up your script. You pressed you hand to you mouth to cover your laugh as you replayed the words in your head. You have ADHD. You have ADHD.
You blinked the tears from your eyes, dabbing at the corners. Holy shit. I have ADHD.
You grabbed a tissue from the box beside you, dabbing the corner of your eyes before you could make a fool of yourself.
The doctor glanced at you. “Are you alright?”
You breathed out a laugh. “Yeah. I’m just so relieved.”
He smiled kindly. “It’s often a relief to finally get a diagnosis.”
“So much.” You squeezed the tissue in your hands and sat back in the chair like your muscles couldn’t hold you up.
“Here’s your script.” He handed it to you. “You can get this filled at any pharmacy, and you can start taking it this afternoon, if you like. Just remember to follow the schedule I gave you.”
You nodded quickly. “Of course. Yes. Thank you so much.”
He stood up and you followed him to the door. “You do look relieved. And lighter than when you walked in.”
“So damn relieved.” You laughed a little. “Thank you so much.”
“Have a good day.”
When asked later, you couldn’t remember much of what followed, of paying, of booking a follow up appointment, of anything but the thoughts: I have ADHD.
It wasn’t until you were outside that it finally hit you emotionally and you couldn’t stop the tears streaming down your cheeks. You stumbled blindly to your car, tears pouring down your cheeks and laughter spilling from you.
“Hey.” Twin familiar arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “How’d it go?”
You spun around to face your boyfriend. “You didn’t hear?”
He shook his head. “Of course not. I wasn’t listening. I didn’t want to intrude on that.” Matt reached up to cup your cheeks. “You’re crying…and you’re laughing. What’d he say?”
“I have ADHD!” You threw your hands up in the air, smiling the biggest smile you ever had.
“Yeah?” Matt pulled you close and a grin bloomed on his face to match yours before he spun you in a circle. “That’s fantastic! Congratulations, sweetheart! I’m so happy for you!”
“Me too!” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck when he didn’t put you down. “I have ADHD! Officially! Actually! It’s not in my head! I’m not lazy! I’m not making this up! I have ADHD!”
“I never doubted you for a second.” Matt pressed his forehead to yours, smiling so hard his cheeks must have ached. “I can’t believe you finally got it!”
You laughed, biting your lip. “I finally got it! After all these years and all the assholes saying I didn’t, I finally got it. The confirmation I needed!”
He spun you in another circle and you let out a shrieking laugh before you stopped. “Wait. I have to tell Megan!” You pushed at his shoulders until he let you go. “They’ve been with me every step of the way! I have to tell them the good news! Ahh! They’re going to be so happy for me!”
Matt let you go with a laugh as you ran into the car park, your phone out and your smile so wide your cheeks ached. He blinked when you stopped and spun around to face him again.
“Almost forgot.” You leapt into his arms, knowing he’d catch you as he always did. Being in his arms always felt like the safest place on earth. And right now, it was the happiest too. You cupped his cheeks and pulled him in for a soft kiss. Pulling away, you rested your head against his, smiling like mad as you said, “Thank you, baby. Thank you for helping me through this and being there for me whenever I needed it.”
His eyes crinkled in the corners, and he leaned into your touch. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
You have ADHD. The words ran through your head, and you felt so giddy you wanted to scream and laugh and leap for joy. “I have ADHD!” you whispered.
“Yeah, you do, baby. You have ADHD.”
A/N: Like I said, purely self-indulgent. I just want to add, my experience of ADHD and diagnosis isn’t universal. This fic is purely about me expressing my relief and happiness over finally getting a diagnosis that has been slowly wrecking me for far too long. I honestly still can’t believe it. And I can’t stop smiling!
Comments and reblogs are much loved 💖💖💖
#daredevil#matt murdock x reader#fanfiction#daredevil x reader#matt murdock#matthew murdock x reader#daredevil fanfiction#adhd#matthew murdock#matt murdock x gender neutral reader#Matthew murdock x gender neutral reader#daredevil x gender neutral reader#daredevil x gn!reader#daredevil x you#daredevil x y/n#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x y/n#matthew murdock x you#matthew murdock x y/n#adhd diagnosis#adhd fanfiction#adhd feels#writeblr#fanfic writers#writers on tumblr#writers of tumblr#ao3#daredevil fandom#daredevil fluff#adhd positivity
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Lover.
Matt with bartender!reader.
Fucking them over the counter late at night after closing because they just smelled way too good. He teases them about how he could hear them throbbing for him all night.
this hit the SPOT
ELECTRIC CHAPEL- M. MURDOCK
Pairing: Bartender! Matt x Bartender! Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: smut, but more like teasing? like matt just teasing you and refusing to stick it in bc hes so, so mean, heavy flirting/ sexual tension, pet names, praise kink, swearing, smartass matthew murdock
"if you want me, meet me at electric chapel, if you wanna steal my heart away- meet me, meet me, baby, in a safe place, c'mon, meet me... in electric chapel"- electric chapel, lady gaga
“You wanna start a tab honey?” you asked sweetly, the countertop cool against your bare skin as you leaned in towards the redhead, nodding as she extended her card.
The music was loud as it thudded from the speakers, reverberating through your heels up through your spinal cord. You watched her turn in her stool as she adjusted herself, legs crossing from under the bar as you slid her a smirk, a certain twinkle in your eye as you felt her check you out.
You were used to it over the years, the customers often already on a buzz that seemed to flair and flourish when they were in your presence, your little flirtatious comments driving them wild.
It was business. People came, people left, drinks were bought and were gone in a matter of minutes. But the little interactions were fun nonetheless.
She was cute you thought as you turned over to scan her card, feeling her eyes pierce to your back like thumbtacks to a corkboard.
You couldn't help but smile as you slid the card back to her, nails drumming the granite before starting her drink. The polished glasses glistened from the neon signs, the deep shades of cherry and crimson a stark contrast compared to the dark environment that was the Electric Chapel Bar.
The bar drew in all kinds of customers, but all of them had one thing in common- spunk. A type of energy that could only be found beneath the streets of New York, between the walls of the underground lair.
You knew she possessed that with her leather jacket and sharp winged liner, red hair bright as flames. She was here alone, as far a you could tell. You'd have to take care of her.
“So what's your name love?” you drawled, adding ice to the shaker as you started to craft her drink.
“Natasha. But you can call me Nat. All the pretty people do.” she smiled, mischievous as a cheshire cat as she watched you. You couldn't help but beam from ear to ear at her foxy comments, soaking up all the attention she gave you.
“Nat. I like that name. It’s cute.” you commented as you finished shaking up her concoction, straining it into the glass.
“Why thank you. Hey, when do you get off work?” she asked as you propped a lemon slice on the side of her glass, citrus already starting to slowly drip down the sides as you slid it over to her. You shrugged, smirking in delight as she slid you a twenty from her purse.
“Anytime you want me off baby.” you giggled, stuffing the twenty in your bra with a wink, trotting off towards your coworker- Matt.
His presence was potient despite being placed on the opposite end of the large bar, and you watched as his large shoulderblades shift and move as he flipped bottles between his pretty hands before he poured. It was mesmerizing- watching him work. His movements were clean and elegant, with a hint of flair behind them.
Enough so that you could never look away from him, whether if he was working or not. You often felt yourself drawn to him, always making note to act sly and seductive towards him.
It was no secret there was tension between the two of you, and you couldn't deny the sexual attraction you felt for him. It flared up now as you neared him, his skin warm to the touch as you slid your hand across his bicep, reaching over him to snag a cherry to suck on.
You could have easily gone beside him, the two of you both knew that. But it was more fun this way.
“Someone’s been busy eh?” he asked, his pace never slowing as he slid over another two drinks for some regulars.
“Oh what this?” you pulled the bill from your bra, rubbing your fingers along the thin paper to hear it crinkle. “Nothing a little flirting can't manage. You're slacking Murdock.”
“I'm slacking because I only flirt with you.” he noted, eyebrows raising as you shrugged. “Fair enough.” you nodded, giving his arm a quick little pat before heading off towards the back, making sure to swish your hips as you left.
The black skirt was snug around your curves, making you feel sexy and powerful with each click of your high heels. The owner of the bar was rather relaxed, a dress code next to nothing- but black was required. That had never bothered you, as black was nothing but a magnet drawn to your closet, whether it was leather, velvet or cashmere.
It looked amazing on Matt- an added bonus to the job. Though Matt looked good in anything really.
“Hey Y/L/N?” he called, voice clear as day over the thumping music that poured from all around the bar. You turned.
“Stay focused. I could feel your eyes on me the whole damn shift.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Anddd done!” you smiled, letting out a gentle huff as you threw the white towel down on the now freshly cleaned bar top, rubbing the little trickle of sweat that ran down your forehead with the back of your hand.
It was an odd hour in the morning, all the other staff had packed up and left almost an hour prior. You and Matt were closing- as always, though you enjoyed it without fail. You survived the empty space, admiring your handiwork.
All the tables were freshly wiped, the smell of mint in the air from the glistening black marble. The red booths had been cleaned off, the dancefloor deserted, heart-shaped ashtrays cleared. Only a few flickering neon signs remained on as you leaned against the ice well, fighting the urge not to squirt Matt with a soda gun.
“Almost- you mean.” he commented, sat firmly on a barstool, spinning around like a five year old.
“What do you mean almost?” you pouted, the towel and spray bottle snatched away from your station as he stood. “You missed table fourteen. There’s no mint there.” he shrugged, your mouth dropping to the floor.
Sometimes you forgot he had enhanced senses. It came in handy, but in times like this you wish he could put away the hound dog for one night.
“You can smell that?!”
“Oh sweetheart I can smell alotta things.” he smirked cheekly, resuming his journey over to the abandoned table, leaving you in disbelief.
You sighed, elbows resting against the counter as you watched his biceps move, the veins trailing up his arms like spiderwebs flex and move as he wiped down the table, removing every last crumb.
It was nauseating- how drawn to him you were. A part of yourself hated every bit of your body that was plagued by the thought of him, knowing deep down it was so very wrong to think of a co-worker that way.
But the two of you just… clicked. You worked so well together, it got to the point the boss had only put the two of you together on shifts. You were fast and efficient, your energies meshing together to provide the customers with a great experience. Not to mention you got a great experience as well behind the bar, his flirty comments and little teasing touches doing nothing but adding more fuel to the fire.
That very touch frightened you now, had made you jump as Matt had crept up behind you. “Jumpy lil thing aren't you?” he murmured to himself, as if he were observing you like a laboratory experiment.
“I was daydreaming.” you sighed, wiggling your hips against him as you peeled your eyes from the darkness of the room, brain slightly foggy from shifting out of focus.
“Yeah? About what?” he asked, the back of his knuckles caressing your arm as you let your head droop down in relaxation. Matt’s aura had captured you in a trance, always leaving you feeling like you had stepped out of a hot tub covered in lavender. He made your muscles loose, bones feel like jello as your head became foggy with haziness.
“Oh ya know… just some stuff.”
“Some stuff?” he pressed, voice benign as he began to unravel you. You felt your thighs start to clench, breath hot and heavy as your panties started to drench.
Oh god.
He felt so good, and he was barely even touching you. Hardly zero advances.
“Just some stuff..”
“I’ve been thinking about stuff all night too bunny. So many things.”
You were going to be sick. You felt as if you had a fever with how hot your skin was, the blood coursing through your veins like liquid fire causing your heart to thud through your ears. It hurt. The need that racked through your frame physically hurt.
“Like what?” He chuckled. “Since I’m not a tease, I’ll tell you.”
Lie. He teased you all the time. Every time he entered your peripheral vision, you felt as if he was trying to push you past your breaking point, making you lose an invisible game. Both of you were too stubborn to jump each other's bones, as much as you wanted to.
But tonight felt different, an extra weight of sexual tension in the air. “I was thinking about how good you smelled. And how I could hear you throbbing for me all night. Is that what you were thinking about too, bunny?”
Shutting your eyes, you sharply inhaled.
Okay. This was happening. This was happening right fucking now and you genuinely had to keep yourself composed or you would melt into this man's arms like fucking puddy.
“N-no.”
“Don’t lie to me angel. You know I don’t like when you lie.” A hand brushed against your back, the hairs on your neck raising. Fingers curled around the countertop's edge, breath quickening as he listened to your thundering heartbeat. You could barely move.
“Yes. Yes I was and I want-” You choked. “I want you so bad. It hurts, Murdock. You’re hurting me.”
You're hurting me. Those words snapped something inside of him, drove him feral. Did you know the impact you had on him? The sweet floral scent that plagued his senses whenever you neared him, the quickening of your heartbeat mixed with your arousal. Sometimes he hated how sensitive he was, because it was almost painful to be around you.
All he wanted to do was to pound into you, use you like a personal fleshlight like he knew you wanted to be so badly for him. But he couldn't. Because you were co-workers, and that was wrong and what if things didn’t work out?
He had a feeling that wouldn't be the case with you. Plus, who said he couldn't have a little fun anyway?
“D’need me to take the pain away sweetheart?”
You nodded. Words were unable to form, getting stuck in your throat like phlegm. Please. Please, please, please.
His hand slid down to your skirt, tugging at the elastic waistband. One of the two things that separated the thing he needed the most. “Can I?”
“Please.” With a slight pull, the fabric slid down past your thighs, panites sliding down with them. He inhaled deeply, basking in your scent.
“Fuck..” he murmured, palming himself through his jeans. “You smell so good. So sweet n pretty..”
The sound of his belt jingling excited you, your eyes wide as you watched him tug at the buttons.
This was happening. This wasn't just another wet dream, some fantasy where you ended with your fingers between your thighs. He was here, and he was taking care of you.
His touches were soft and gentle, yet demanding in a way as his fingers trailed up your leg to your thighs, inching them further apart. You gasped as he swiped a digit across your slit, wetness gleaming on his finger.
You felt as if the air had been stolen from your lungs as his arms wrapped around you in a comforting embrace, hands meeting at your lower belly as he pressed against the muscle gently.
“You’re so good to me angel. So, so good.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhmm” he hummed against you, and you shivered. Any flirty, witty response you always threw at him was now gone, your brain slowly beginning to malfunction as he brushed his cock against your slit, making you hiss with pleasure.
“Matt-”
“Oh you didn’t think we were gonna actually fuck honey, did you? We’re coworkers. You’re so dirty.” he smirked, ruthlessly teasing you as he brushed his cock against your clit, causing you to wither and squirm in his arms.
This was torture. It was torture and pleasure in the best way possible, and you were grasping at the seams for anything he would give to you.
“Naughty. You’re being so, so naughty.” he cooed, as if he was talking to a little baby kitten. Your slick coated his dick as he slid it back and forth against your folds, whispering sweet, gentle things into your ear.
As if he wasn't mocking your need, slipping right by where you needed him most.
Good girl. So good to me. Letting me use you, violate you like this. It’s filthy really, how badly you need this. How badly you need me.
Yes. Yes, yes. Was all you could think, all you wanted to think. You were overstimulated beyond measure with the way he was teasing your clit, the way his hands ran up and down your body with that low, gravelly voice husky with smoke.
You were aching to have him buried deep inside you, stuffing you full until you cried. But you would take this. You would accept this, because it was all you could accept.
He was in charge, he held the reins. You may have teased him, slightly bossed him around on the clock but off- oh no. Matt had made it very, very clear he was in charge. What he gave you is what you got.
And you were to take it with a moan, a roll of your eyes and a hazy smile on your face. You did just that.
“You’re being so mean-” you managed to squeak out, before he slipped away from you with a smile.
“I’m the mean one?” You gulped.
“Sure, I can be the mean one. Meet me in the parking lot in ten minutes baby. Lock up.”
#matt murdock#matt murdock smut#matt murdock fluff#matt murdock fanfic#matthew murdock fanfiction#matthew murdock x you#matthew murdock fanfic#matthew murdock x reader#matt murdock fem!reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x y/n#daredevil x y/n#daredevil smut#daredevil fanfiction#daredevil fic#daredevil x you#daredevil fluff#matt murdock fanfiction#daredevil#charlie cox
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hello, I hope you are feeling better <3
I had an x reader fic request which is a little spicy; basically reader is very quiet and not loud so matt kind of ties her hands (with consent and even something soft) and for every noise she makes he rewards her and it keeps going
thank you so much btw for all your lovely fics :)
hii! you're so sweet!! and yes I am, thank you! very sorry this is so late. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
reward
Matt Murdock x f reader
wc || 0.8k
warnings || 18+ only sexually explicit content (light bondage, praise) minors dni
also sorry it’s been so long since a Matt fic
masterlist + rules
taglist
Matt hasn't been home from work long, but he already had you right where he wanted you, laid naked under him with his fingers pushed up inside you. His head hung low next to your ear, whispering praises about how warm and good you feel and how pretty you smell.
His fingers curl upwards, rubbing against the favoured spongey spot inside you, working in a come hither motion while pecks light kisses down the side of your throat. "God, do that again," he whispers, halting when he reaches the underside of your jaw.
"Do what?" you quietly question, melting into his delicate touch.
"That noise, that little moan... please do it again,"
"I didn't moan," you shakily protest, running your hand up his bare back, lightly grazing along the skin.
"You did... it was so hot," he praises, working over the same area, trying to get the same reaction from you once more. "Please keep doing that."
During your intimate encounters, Matt heavily relied on you to be vocal in expressing your interest so that he knew you were enjoying yourself as much as him. He knew you weren't particularly loud during your shared moments; he just wanted to see if he could coax out a few noises, even if that entailed light bondage and rewards.
So as the thought finalises in his brain, he slowly drags his fingers from you to reach over into the nightstand, searching for one of your scrunchies. He peppers the nape of your neck in soft, delicate kisses as he laces his hands in yours, slowly lifting them above your head. "Here's an idea," he starts, parting from your lips, grinning against them. "Every time you make those sweet, pretty sounds... I keep going," he whispers below your ear, smirking against the skin. "Every time you stay quiet... I stop. That sound good?"
Nodding in approval.
His head cocks, brows playfully furrowed. "What'd I just say?"
"Yes, sorry— yeah," you laugh. "That sounds good."
"Good, thank you," he whispers, slipping your wrists into the scrunchie, twisting behind the headboard. "If you don't like it... tell me right away, okay?"
"I will," you breathlessly reply, leaning into his soft touch.
Sitting on his knees between your legs, caressing your goosebumped thighs. "Good girl," he whispers in praise. "That's my good girl," stroking over the head of his cock with one hand while the other parts your folds.
He guides himself closer, his tip meer centimetres away as if he was taunting you. He slides his head through your dripping lips to lubricate his aching dick, teasing himself through your slick. Gripping at his base, he steadily pushes his head into you, going slow to allow you a moment to adjust. Keeping himself still before finally sinking further into you.
"Fu—“ he mutters, lids hung low. He desperately clasps under your jaw as he peppers wet, sloppy, needy kisses along it, gingerly grinding his hips into you. Massaging inside of you in the just way you both needed.
His head drops into the crook of your neck, mumbling incoherently as his hands roam your body, grasping and squeezing your skin as he slowly fucks into you. “You feel so good," he soft groans, clutching his hand around your throat, slinking his fingers back and behind, locking into a small fistful of hair and gently tugging. “So, fuckin good.”
Now that you are fully adjusted to his size, he starts to speed up, sliding in and out of you at the pace you need and crave. Hitting all of your perfect spots with the slight curve of his cock, giving you everything you could ever want and then some. His breathing grows heavy against your neck, strained and strangled as if he's holding himself off while his fingers entangle into tighter locks of your hair.
His movements grow more precise and urgent when he hears your perfect little whimpers in his ear, the desperation in your moans only egging him on more and more as he fucks you. "Such pretty sounds," he says, barely audible against your skin. Panting. "You feel so good around me— you feel so good."
Your hands lace together, clutching your fingers with pure need, desperately wanting something to grip as you feel the wave build within.
You feel him start to twitch and pulsate inside you which immediately sets you off. Tightening and clamping around his cock with your release, instinctively grinding against him as you ride out the engulfing feeling. Your spasming movements sparked his own release, softly grunting under your jaw as he drags himself from you, spilling ropes of cum over your lower abdomen.
He litters your face in quick sweet kisses before removing the scrunchie from your wrists, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you with him. Holding you to his chest as he flops back against the mattress, readjusting you both as he pecks your cheek tenderly.
Stroking down your bare back as he speaks low and soft. "Never stop making those sounds, sweetheart... that was— that was,"
"Incredible," you finish his sentence, snuggling tighter into his chest.
Softly chuckling. "Yeah,"
@mattymurdock1021 @v1ntage-daydr3am @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @redecoratestan @kpopgirlbtssvt @scarletsloveletter @princess-pebbles-things @messymissy @schneeflocky @readerhead @thegreengoop @charmedkim
#matt murdock#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock fanfic#matt my beloved#matt murdock imagine#matt murdock smut#matt murdock drabble#matt murdock blurb#matt murdock x fem!reader#matthew murdock#matthew murdock fanfiction#matthew murdock x reader#matthew murdock x you#matthew murdock smut#mcu fanfiction
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Hello. I saw your Matt Murdock request and I would like a request thar Matt was having a nightmare and reader goes to comfort him. Thank you
Night Terrors
••••••••••••••••
Word count:1447
Paring(s):Matt Murdock x Reader
Warning(S): Angst,minor arguing, bad writing, happy ending.
A/n: Thank you so much for this request I really enjoyed the idea but I haven't been in the best writing mood so this might be horrible. But thank you anyway!
(photo not mine)
I knew he'd had a rough week with this recent case and the spike in crime going on, so I should have known his frustration would boil over eventually. "Leave." He demanded sternly, "Matt- That's not fair..." I tried to reason, but he was a man stuck in his ways. "I don't want you here if you're going to keep distracting and interrupting me." He kept his back to me as he sat on the couch hunched over the coffee table with his papers and files spilled across it. "Oh. I'm sorry for being such a bother to you. You can order your own damn food." I say, feeling my own frustration starting to rise. "Actually, You know what. Find yourself someone else to look after you all the time. Someone who doesn't piss you off every time they breathe." I didn't mean to get pissed off, but this is the fifth time this week that he's been an ass to me, but I didn't need to be treated like this, not by him. So I grabbed my keys off the dining table. "Where are you going?" He finally speaks, "Oh look, Now he wants to care."
I scoff and head towards the door, hearing him get up from the couch and come after me. "Y/n-" He says just barely above a whisper; I turn to glare at him over my shoulder even though I knew he couldn't see it, but he could sense it at least "You're right, that wasn't fair of me, I know but please, don't leave. stay," I felt him reach for me, and I pulled away, "Sweetheart, please, I'm sorry." He goes for me again, and I let him grab my arm. "Matthew. I need some air." I say as I open the door. "Baby-" "No. I'm leaving, and you can't convince me to stay this time." I close the door behind me, and as it locks, I hear a thump; I assume it was matt resting his head against it. "Good...he's thinking about his actions," I whisper.
After I left Matt's apartment, I decided to get a late-night coffee to think about how I should discuss the argument with Matt; both of us getting some time away should help cool the air; my phone has been ringing every ten minutes, and it's always Matt. "Honey...You'll be fine," I whisper into the coffee mug as I look out the cafe window. "I should go back soon.." and thats just what I did; as soon as I finished the coffee, though, he could wait a little longer.
As I stepped into the apartment, I could hear soft snores from the couch; once I locked the door, I walked through the hallway to see matt passed out, his head against the back of the couch, his knee spread apart, and his arms at his side. He looked peaceful, "Oh. He cleaned up.." I whisper to myself as I walk into the kitchen; opening the fridge, I see a box of Chinese sitting on the top shelf with a post-it note. 'I got you your favorite, sweetheart. I'm sorry for being an ass.' He actually wrote something on paper which surprised me, but it kinda looked like a ransom note since he doesn't write on paper often. When he does that, I know he means his apology. He once wrote " I love you " on a receipt when he bought groceries for me. "Sweet man, you are Murdock," I say quietly. The moment is interrupted by uncomfortable groans; I look over to matt, who seems to be having a nightmare; these were more common than you'd think.
I shut the fridge and walked to the couch, sitting beside him. "Matthew, honey. Wake up" I gently placed my hand on his thigh, but he was only getting deeper into the nightmare. Carefully I shook his shoulder, which seemed to do the trick; he jolted up and hunched over his head in his hands, "Matty.." my voice surprised him. A whimper was all that left his lips as he turned and leaned his head against my shoulder, I rubbed his back, and he held me close to him. My shoulder was wet from his silent tears "Honey Bunny; You're okay. I'm here," I say softly, but he remains silent the whole time. I don't entirely remember what happened, but we fell asleep on the couch.
The sun beaming through the large windows woke me, I wanted to get up and make some coffee, but Matt's heavy weight on top of me made it nearly impossible to move. "Matty...We should get up." I whisper sweetly to him, but he refuses to let me up by nuzzling his head into my neck and wrapping his arms tighter around me. "Can we at least move to the bed?" I ask as I run my fingers through his hair. He nods against me before slowly releasing me and getting up off the couch. He kept his eyes close as he picked me up off the couch. "Matt...I can get myself to the room," I say as I hold onto him "no..I know that once you get up, you're up for the rest of the day," he tells me when he lays me down on the bed, he crawls on top of me again, I grab the large blanket and throw it overtop of us. "Fine, but we're not sleeping all day." I get no response from him, only soft peaceful snores.
The annoying buzz of my phone vibrating on the kitchen counter wakes me up, my head is resting against Matt's chest, and his arm is wrapped around me. I groan quietly as I sit up, careful not to wake him as I get out of bed. I grab my phone and see it's my boss, who's been calling, "Hello, sir." I say as I answer it; I walk to the coffeepot and start to make some coffee, grabbing our favorite mugs from the cabinet. "Yes, of course. Yes, Sir, I know the deadline is Thursday, but that's four days away, and I have plenty of time to comple-...Yes Sir, I understand."
I sigh exhaustedly as I hang up the call. "Y/n?" I hear matt call out from the bedroom, "Out here, baby" I hear some shuffling and heavy footsteps. I turn to see Matt leaning against the bedroom doorframe with a sweet smirk on his lips. "What's that look for?" I ask, almost mimicking his expression. "You're wearing my shirt... And I'm not dreaming. You actually came back." He says as he walks over to me, loosely wrapping his arm around my waist and kissing the top of my head. "We need to talk," I say to him as I fill up our mugs with coffee; I hand him his mug, and he thanks me; I hop up onto the counter, trapping him between my knees. We both sip our coffee in comfortable silence until he speaks up, "I'm sorry for how I've been acting. I should never talk to you like that, and I felt horrible after you left. I shouldn't take my frustration out on you. I was so worried" As he spoke, his eyes were filled with regret, but he wouldn't let me see it as he turned his head towards the window. "I forgive you, Matt. I know we've both been struggling this week. We should relax today; make it about you and me. Take some time to heal our stressed minds." I offer to him, but He says nothing; still blankly looking out the window, I knew he was overthinking everything. I placed my hand on his cheek to coax him to turn back towards me; he shut his eyes and nuzzled his face into my hand. "I'm sorry," he says quietly, repeating it a few times; I quiet him by taking his mug and placing it on the counter before pulling him into a hug.
Matt pulls away and kisses my head." I love you." He kisses my nose and says again, "I love you." a final sweet kiss to my lips, whispering the words once more as though the world was falling around us. "I love you too."
A/n:(2022) I don't really like how I wrote this one, but I wanted to fulfill the request. I hope you like it. I need to go back and study Matt's personality more. If you have any Matt Murdock requests let me know! Request's are open.
A/n:(2023) I actually like this now lol, I might go back and correct some spelling errors though.
#writing#fanfic#reader insert#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x y/n#matt murdock#matthew murdock fanfiction#matthew murdock x you#matthew murdock x reader#matthew murdock#daredevil x female reader#daredevil x y/n#daredevil
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Confession - Matt Murdock x Reader
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader
Summary: After an incident at your apartment, you feel a need to tell Matt how you feel before it's too late.
Warnings: Mentions of a bomb, blood, severe injury to reader, hurt, fluff at the end (I think so anyway), mention of almost dying, angst, a lot of pain honestly
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N: Let me know if I missed any warnings. Also I tried a new idea for the header thingy at the top idk if I like it though. Feedback is always appreciated. Not beta-read so any mistakes are mine.
This specific article, one aimed at shedding light on some of the organized crime that was going on in Hell’s Kitchen, was giving you a much more difficult time than most of the articles you had written previously. It was barely noon and you had already consumed a pot of coffee in an attempt to stay awake, having stayed at the office late the night before only to do more work upon getting home.
You were not even a quarter of the way into completing the article when a loud explosion shook your apartment building, followed by the chaos of people screaming and trying to run away from the incident. Curious as to what was going on, you closed your laptop and stood up, cautiously walking to your window. As you reached the floor-to-ceiling windows that had been providing light to your work area, a second explosion rang out, sending you flying and shooting shrapnel in your direction. Your body hit the table on the way to the floor, a loud groan escaping your lips as your back hit the edge. As you hit the floor, landing in a pile of glass and rubble from your window, you attempted to brace for impact and felt that landing on your side was the best of the few options you had.
You were not even a quarter of the way into completing the article when a loud explosion shook your apartment building, followed by the chaos of people screaming and trying to run away from the incident. Curious as to what was going on, you closed your laptop and stood up, cautiously walking to your window. As you reached the floor-to-ceiling windows that had been providing light to your work area, a second explosion rang out, sending you flying and shooting shrapnel in your direction. Your body hit the table on the way to the floor, a loud groan escaping your lips as your back hit the edge. As you hit the floor, landing in a pile of glass and rubble from your window, you attempted to brace for impact and felt that landing on your side was the best of the few options you had.
You felt a shard go deep into your torso as a searing pain filled your body. The taste and smell of copper attacked your senses. Instinctively, you reached down to attempt to check the damages, wincing as your fingers brushed the glass embedded in your skin. Disoriented from the pain, you grabbed onto the nearby counter and tried to pull yourself off the ground, only to collapse onto the pile of glass you had pulled yourself up from, sending the shard in your side deeper into your torso and adding more cuts to your face and body. Fumbling around, you scrambled for your phone that must have gotten lost in the commotion.
I just need to make it to the first aid kit, you thought, unaware of how bad the damage truly was. This can’t be it, I need to tell him, you reminded yourself as you forced yourself off the ground. Willing yourself to your feet, you stumbled your way to your bathroom, using the walls and bits of furniture to hold yourself up. As you reached the threshold into the bathroom, you collapsed onto the floor. It took your remaining energy to pull yourself into a sitting position. Maybe he heard it and will be here soon, you hoped, remembering the night you found out about why he was always bruised and cut up. Nelson & Murdock can’t be far from here.
Through the haze, you could barely hear your window break even more than the initial impact and the crash of someone landing on the broken glass before heavy footsteps started to approach. “No,” you heard a familiar voice breakthrough and call out your name. “What happened?” the voice sounded miles away as the sound faded in and out. Forcing your eyes to stay open long enough to see who it would be that found you, hoping it was him while praying it wasn’t in the chance you didn’t make it.
You moved your hand to reveal the wound that was spilling blood much faster than you had thought. “Matty?” you questioned, voice weak and short of breath.
“I’m here,” he responded, removing his glasses and suit jacket as he kneeled next to you. You reached for the shard in your side, an attempt to pull it out. “No,” he said calmly, grabbing your hand and moving it away, “I know it hurts but it needs to stay in.”
“I’m okay?” you asked him, only to be met with a small nod of his head. He didn’t want to outright lie to you but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you the truth. The world became too bright and fuzzy to concentrate as pain threatened to overcome you and you struggled to keep your eyes open.
“This is going to hurt, lovely,” he said, his voice coming through as if you were underwater. You used a bit of your energy to nod and force your eyes open as he ripped a towel in an attempt to make a bandage to wrap around you and hold everything in.
“Matty,” you said weakly, “I’m cold but I think I’ll be okay. I just need to rest my eyes.”
“No no sweetheart,” he said trying to mask the worry in his voice. “Keep your eyes open, stay with me here. Just be quiet and remember to keep your eyes open.”
“I need to tell you something first,” you tried to speak.
“Shh, don’t talk. Tell me when you make it,” he said in an attempt to reassure you, hearing your heart rate slow and your breathing become shallow. He carefully moved your hair, now matted with blood from minor cuts along your hairline, tucking a strand behind your ear. Having carefully tied the makeshift bandage around you and being sure you were stable enough to move, he gently picked you up, eliciting a loud groan to escape your lips. “I know I know,” he said, “but we have to get you out of here.”
“Did I ever tell you how pretty your eyes are?” you asked him. “God, I love you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.
“I love you too,” he responded as your vision went black and your body went limp. He could barely hear your heartbeat now as he carried you out the door of your apartment building. He made his way through the crowd that had formed after the explosion, holding you close and trying to hear any semblance of a heartbeat coming from your body.
After he made it through the crowd of your neighbors, two paramedics took you from his arms placing you on a gurney. “There’s glass in her side. She’s lost a lot of blood,” he informed them while putting his glasses back on. The paramedics nodded and informed him of the hospital you’d be at, but due to not being family he was unable to ride in the ambulance with you. He nodded walking away as they closed the door and instantly called Foggy and Karen to inform them of your condition.
————————————————————————
When you finally awoke again in the hospital the next day, you were temporarily blinded by the lights. When your eyes adjusted to your surroundings, you saw Matt disheveled and asleep in the chair for visitors.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” Claire exclaimed as she came into your room during rounds. “I don’t think he’s left your room aside from going to pray since you got here yesterday afternoon,” she said motioning towards Matt, “I honestly didn’t think he was going to sleep at all either.” You turned your head towards where Matt slept, smiling weakly at him as you tried to sit up. The stitches on your side and stomach pulled against your skin slightly, causing you to wince and inhale sharply.
You cautiously reached your hand up to your hairline, your fingers grazing over the stitches in your forehead before looking at the bandages covering smaller cuts on your arm, likely from when you fell onto the broken glass. “Careful, I don’t think he’d make it if you ripped open any stitches,” Claire joked, trying to use humor to keep you comfortable.
You laughed slightly, grimacing at the pain when you did so. Almost as if he was listening for your laugh, Matt started to shift in the chair. “I’ll let the others know you’re awake and give the two of you some time,” Claire said exiting the room.
You smiled at Matt as he stood up from the chair, stretching before carefully walking towards you. “They said you were really touch-and-go for a while. You came to in the ambulance for a bit, I’m so sorry they said that because of the extent of your injuries and me not being family I couldn’t ride with you,” he started to apologize profusely as he knelt by the hospital bed.
“Matt stop apologizing,” you cut him off, reaching out to cup his cheek, a movement that caused pain to shoot through your side, a quiet groan escaping your lips. “I’m just lucky you found me in time. I tried to call you when I first realized what had happened but I couldn’t find my phone.”
“Careful,” Matt responded. “We don’t need you opening any of your stitches.”
“I’ll be fine Matty,” you said with a small smile. “No more bikinis when it heals though,” you joked in an attempt to keep the mood light as you felt at the bandage that spanned from below your ribs on your side to the middle of your stomach. “Did they say anything about when I would be able to go home?” you asked when you saw that your joke had upset Matt.
“About that,” Matt started with a sympathetic look, “your entire apartment building collapsed from the explosion.” Your demeanor instantly shifted upon hearing the news and you carefully moved your hand from Matt’s face. He instantly picked up on the change and attempted to reassure you, “Some of the first responders at the scene found a few of your belongings that weren’t too bad, including your phone and a few pictures. Foggy identified them for you and picked them up. Foggy and Karen picked up some clothes for you and have both offered to let you crash at your place while the complex gets rebuilt or until you find somewhere else.”
“No,” you responded at first, earning you a confused look from Matt, “I would rather stay with you if that’s okay.”
Matt nodded slowly, “Of course you can, but why do you want to?” he questioned, a subtle way of asking if you meant, or even remembered what you had said to him yesterday before passing out from your injuries.
“Because you make me feel safe. Your eyes remind me of home, you remind me of home,” you responded. “I meant everything I said yesterday, and I understand if you don’t feel the same way and if you want to just stay friends but I feel safest with you around.”
Instead of speaking, Matt slowly stood up, “I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have said anything,” you started to apologize, worried you may have messed up. You were quickly cut off by Matt’s lip gently touching yours, his way of telling you how he felt. Matt pulled away, both of you smiling as he did so.
“I was waiting for the two of you to do that,” Foggy chimed in from the doorway, having seen the tail end of your interaction with Matt.
#matt murdock#daredevil#charlie cox#matt murdock fic#matt murdock imagine#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x y/n#matthew murdock fic#matthew murdock#matthew murdock x y/n#matthew murdock x you#daredevil x reader#marvel daredevil#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#netflix daredevil#daredevil fic#marvel fic#matt murdock fanfic#daredevil fanfic#matthew murdock fanfic#matt murdock fanfiction#daredevil fanfiction#matthew murdock fanfiction#matthew murdock x reader#nmcu#nmcu x reader#nmcu x you#ncmu x y/n
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