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vampkillr · 2 years

Text

Scars — Matt Murdock

Tw: Self harm, description of relapse

gn! reader — 1.1k words — hurt/comfort — this fic was written true to my personal experience with self harm. i am not romanticizing this topic. do not read this if you are trying to have some deranged fantasy of it. the descriptions in this fic may be triggering to some readers. please do not continue reading if this topic will impact your mental health. your health and safety are of utmost importance to me.

My scars were different than his. They told the tale of a different battle. A different addiction. I wasn't a hero like him. He couldn't see the war I was fighting. In a way I was grateful for it. The safety his lack of vision provided. I didn't have to hide myself. There weren't words to describe why I did it. A pain so deep in my bones I had to dig for it. To let it bleed out and let the pressure build once more, only to start the process all over again. With Matt I had to be careful. I had to make sure he couldn't hear it. Smell it. Taste it. This, of course was just a matter of making sure he wasn't there. Everything else was secondary so long as my arm was covered.

It became a ritual. Every night after work to come home and fight the urge. To wait and wait— maybe make a few days clean only to ultimately cave in to that voice in my head. To fill the emptiness on my skin. Once again I found myself staring at my wrist. Blade in hand. Guilt beginning to whisper my name, but the voice louder. How they looked too shallow. How they were all starting to heal. Picking apart the empty spaces and shaming me for not having filled them. It was almost artistic, the lines I placed on myself. Picking and choosing exactly where it was I wanted my blood to spill— and as I started to bleed, I remembered why I loved it so much. I felt warmth. Comfort. My skin cried in a way I couldn't. It dripped. Beaded. It gave me an ache that reminded me I had a heartbeat.

A knock at the bathroom door and the frantic shaking of the doorknob brought me to reality. To regret and disappointment. Ripped away from the peace I had created for myself. “Open the door!” Matthew's voice cut through the wood that separated us. Shit. I took my time getting up, pressing my already bloody cloth onto my arm and going to let Matt in. The second the door was unlocked he barreled through, grabbing me and holding me as tight as he could. “I thought—” His cheek against my head, lips brushing against my ear. “I thought you were trying to kill yourself I couldn't—” I could feel the panic in his chest. In the way he couldn't finish his sentence. “All I could smell was your blood.”

I felt gutted. I scared my only sanctuary. I ruined the safety I found in his normalcy. He knew now the very thing I was trying to hide. “Matthew,” I spoke low, gently trying to coax him off of me. “I'm alright.” I dreaded the possible conversation this would spark. I didn't want him to try to make himself my saint. There was nothing he could tell me that I haven't already heard. He backed away only to hold my arm out for him to analyze. He shut the toilet lid and sat me down, washing his hands and taking the time to pick a thick enough rag. For a minute we stayed silent as he put pressure against my arm, the air of disappointment choking us both. I could see how upset he was. I was upset too. "I'm sorry.” I whispered.

“I didn't know how to talk to you about it....” My eyes trailed his form, the way he towered over me like this. “I didn't know if you wanted to talk about it.” He sighed. “I just want you to be okay.”

“I am.” I tried to reassure him. To reassure myself. We both knew I was lying. I had an issue. A problem that has rooted itself so deep in my brain that I didn't see an end to it. It clouded my vision. My judgement. He let go of my arm, placing both bloody rags in my sink and going on a journey to find my bandages. “I'll get them.” He moved away and I reached for everything I needed, rinsing my arm off and drying it first. Three big band-aids later and I was good as new. I walked over to the couch while Matt made his way to the bar— the light from that god-awful sign outside being the only thing illuminating my path. A purple hue seeping through the vaguely clouded panes, painting the entire room and everything in it. I sat down and he placed a glass of water on the coffee table before sitting across from me. Silence consumed us. Nothing could fix what just happened. There was no space for the conversation to change. A stagnation that neither of us knew how to address. “So you knew?” My voice low.

“The whole time.” His confirmation made me want to sink into myself. Going this long without talking about it, it was no wonder he thought I was trying to die. There was no reason to believe otherwise. “I didn't want to upset you.... I thought you'd come to me when you were ready.” Every time he'd touch me. Every time he'd graze my wrists. Pretending to believe my lies about how they were all old scars. With each question of ‘they're still old?’ he gave me the chance to come forward. With each ‘yes’ I let him know I didn't want to.

“I don't know why I do it.” My arm ached. It hurt worse than before because of how tight Matt was gripping the rag to my arm. “I'm hurting..... I just can't explain how.” I sighed and he got up, coming around to sit next to me on the couch. “A suffering I have to show myself just to know it's real. Maybe I do it just to see myself heal in a way that my brain can't. I don't know.” His hand went to my back. The pressure soothing. “I just can't help myself sometimes. I can't stop.” I leaned over, head in my hands. I just wanted today to be over with.

“Let's go to bed.” Matt gently pulled me off the couch and led me to our room. I didn't have the fight in me to try and stay up any longer. He stripped himself of his black outfit and got under the covers. I followed shortly after, relaxing into his arms as he held me. “I love you.” I didn't have to say anything for him to know that I loved him too. He could feel it. The heat on my skin. My heartbeat. The warmth he covered me in was enough to lull me to sleep. I drifted off surrounded by him.

u definitely do not have to reblog this !! please don't unnecessarily trigger anyone. i wrote this pretty much to comfort myself so i definitely understand if it doesn't get many notes.

#fanfic #x male reader #ao3 #marvel x male reader #daredevil x male reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x male reader #matt murdock x reader #angst fic #triggering stuff #tw shelf harm #tw sh relapse #tw sh related #marvel x gn reader #daredevil x gn!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x gn!reader #matt murdock

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yellowroseswrites · 10 months

Note

Hey, could I get Matt murdock with #8 and #20 off of your most recent prompt list? Maybe with a reader who has self harm problems? Thank you so much!

Here you are lovely, sorry for the insanely long wait :)

TW- Self harm mentions, I tried staying as gn as possible but I'll have to re-edit to be sure, reader hurt their arm but nothing else is specific I don't think, a little ooc matt, Written on mobile :(

817 words, enjoy!

“Are you alright?”

A simple question really. Not one that should scare you as much as it does, but it’s coming from Matt.

Your all-knowing, no-nonsense super boyfriend. The one who can tell you more about yourself than you’ll ever know and the one who sees you best without ever really seeing you.

He just returned from his “night job” as you called it. He kept bad guys off the streets while you were left at home to fight your own demons.

The answer to his question is no, but he didn’t deserve to hear that. You should be asking him if he’s alright, not the other way around. So you did what you do best, you hid and you lied.

“Of course, ‘m just tired. How was your night?” A simple lie, but a lie nonetheless. You didn’t like lying to your sweet, loving boyfriend, but you also didn’t like the idea of telling him about your most recent relapse either.

He hummed slightly as he managed to change into his sleeping clothes, a nice baggy shirt and sweatpants that highlighted everything they should. He tossed one of his shirts over to you, with far too much aim and accuracy for a blind man, “Here, it’ll be more comfortable, it’s supposed to get warm in the morning.”

Okay, this is great, this is fine, it’ll be fine. He won’t notice. You slowly took off the sweatshirt you were wearing, paying careful attention to your fresh bandages.

You don’t know why you relapsed, and you aren't even quite sure why you started harming yourself in the first place, but it’s been something that you have fallen back on time and time again. You had told Matt about your issues with it, and he was nothing but kind and understanding. You ended that conversation with a promise to stay clean, you promised you would talk to him before doing anything, and you promised you wouldn’t lie about it if you ever did it again.

So, you’ve broken three promises tonight, and you would really like it if your super-senses boyfriend wouldn’t sense the guilt that is practically flowing out of your being.

You finally manage to get the sweatshirt off of you as quietly as you can. You pull the t-shirt on over your head and Matt almost immediately turns your way.

“Do you have a bandage on?”

Your heart nearly stops. You try your best to even out your breathing, you don’t want Matt to notice that you’re stressed. You take a breath before answering, “What? No, why?”

He walks a little closer to you, while still keeping his distance. He’s only hesitant when you’re panicking. He knows, he knows, he knows. “I heard it. I heard the fabric and the bandage, I-. Please tell me you didn't hurt yourself again."

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. You stayed silent.

“Im sorry, i shouldnt word it like that. You can tell me if you did.”

“No, no I can’t, you’re gonna be mad at me, you're gonna leave me, i-.” You couldn't breathe. You were looking at the ground, your hands scratching at your sides. You weren't sure when Matt made his way to you, but soon enough you felt his arms wrap around you. You smelled his body wash and gripped his shirt to ground yourself. You caught your breath before removing yourself from him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, I'm not mad. Just go take a seat on the bed okay?"

You did as he said, sitting on the edge of the large bed. You watched as he made his way to the bathroom. You heard some scrambling and a few sighs, but you let him be. It took about 5 minutes before he walked out again. When he reappeared he was holding a trash bag in one hand and a first aid kit in the other.

"What are you doing?" You asked quietly.

He placed the trash bag by the door, "Taking care of you."

"Why?"

He sat next to you and opened the kit, "Because you clearly can't do it yourself." He grabbed your bandaged arm, making sure to stay as gentle as possible. "I'm going to redo your bandages okay? If you don't change them out you're gonna get infected."

You simply nodded and let him do as he wished. Your gaze stayed strictly on the ground. You didn't want to see his face as he ran his fingers along your wounds, even though you could hear the change in his breathing. You hated this, you hated feeling so exposed to him, but he somehow managed to make you feel safe.

He finished rewrapping your wounds before letting you lay back against the pillows. He put up the first aid kit and crawled into bed with you, pulling you as close to him as possible.

"Goodnight Angel."

#yellowroseswrites #comfort fics #x reader #x reader fic #self h@rm #sh!reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #matt murdock comfort #comfort blurb

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misspeachesmcgee · 2 years

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Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Warning: Dark Themes Ahead! self harm, cutting, angst, depression

They’re only a block from home when Red freezes, tilting his head and sniffing the air like a damn beagle. They’d been working together on this drug ring for a few weeks, and while Frank still doesn’t get the full extent of the Devil’s abilities, he’s been around the man enough to know when shits about to hit the fan.

“What now?” Frank gruffs. It was a shit night but he managed to end it with only a few shallow cuts and he’s plenty happy to keep it that way.

“Shut up for a second,” Matt whispers, straining his senses. “There’s blood. I think it’s coming from your apartment.”

It’s enough to light a fire under Frank’s ass and send both men running across the rooftops.

———

You don’t know what broke the dam.

It’s been weeks, but you also feel like it’s been your whole damn life. Hasn’t it, though? There’s always been something wrong with you, something broken. It’s always been there, as much a part of you as the broken skin and split muscle beneath. It’s just you. You’re what’s wrong, the voice in your head whispers.

Another pull of the razor across your arm and you hear the gentle tip tap of blood droplets in the sink.

It turns out it was easier than you thought to hide it from Frank. He’d been too busy with his work to notice, sleeping during the day and not returning home until the early hours of the morning.

You thought you’d feel lonely. But really you just felt relieved. It left you more than enough time to clean up the evidence, and it gave you a break from the constant worry that he’d find out. A break from the shame.

Another cut. Not too shallow, it scolds. Not too deep.

You fucking hate that word. Shame. You’d spent years of your life suffocating under it. So fucking what if you needed an outlet, if this is how you chose to cope? Who the fuck had the right to judge you?

Another.

A simple glance in the mirror and you saw the pathetic truth in your own eyes. That all that shame you fucking hated wasn’t coming from everyone else, no. Wouldn’t it be easier that way? Fuck them all.

Another.

No, you knew the truth. That the shame is coming from you. Warmth is dripping down your wrists and you watch the way it tangles through your fingers before merging into a trickle as it sinks down the drain.

It’s not enough. Deeper.

God, what would Frank think of you? It’s easy, you scoff. He’d hate you.

He’d hate you.

You start slicing recklessly, harder and deeper than before. It doesn’t matter, it’s not enough. Not ever enough, you think as the blade slips through your slippery fingers and you sink down to the floor. Your head is pounding, its slamming, that hateful voice screaming as you sink to the floor in exhaustion.

The tile is nice and cold on your cheek, and it’s a small and soothing comfort from the bleeding warmth from your arm.

Rest, you think. God, just for a moment, please. Let me rest.

———

Frank screams your name as he throws his shoulder into the door again, the old wood finally splintering under his weight. Through the cracks he can see a bit of blood, a flash of your hair. Another shove and the door flies open.

He freezes at the sight of your open wrist. Freezes. He’ll never forgive himself for that. But the sight of you laying in a pool of your own blood has Frank rooted to the spot, his worst nightmare flashing in front of his eyes over and over. Maria. Frankie. Lisa.

You.

“Frank!” Red shouts from the other room, breaking the spell that has Frank just standing there watching you bleed out on the linoleum. “Bring her in here!”

Franks moving, wrapping you in his arms, your wrist dripping a trail of blood from the bathroom. Red’s got his kit open on the coffee table, needle in his hand as Frank lays you down on the sofa.

“Red,” Frank pleads, though he’s not sure for what.

“Shut up and let me work, Frank!” Red snaps. “Hold her.” Frank doesn’t need to be told twice, the marine in him ever grateful for an order to follow. He can’t think, can’t breathe. All he feels is your blood on his hands and the pounding of fear in his chest. He kneels by your head, burying his face in your neck as Red starts on the stitches. He can’t watch.

“Cmon baby, c’mon” Frank whispers, lips pressed into your forehead as his hands stroke your hair. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Hang in there for me, please.”

———

Frank sits by your bedside, trying to memorize the way the soft skin of your hand moves under his thumb.

He doesn’t feel anything. Not a goddamn thing. He just sits, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the next order. Good soldier.

Red left a few hours ago. giving you what little privacy he could, though Frank suspects he hasn’t gone far. How could he? You lit up his life almost as much as you did Franks, as much as everyone you touched. To know you was to love you.

And in return, this is what you got. He’d let you end up here.

How the hell had he not seen it? He knew you’d struggled in the past, he wasn’t an idiot. He saw the scars that freckled your arms, your thighs. But who the hell was he to judge? His skin was covered with them, a testament to his own right to cope however he damn well pleased. And you’d never shied from it, not once. He shared it all with you. Every nightmare, every bruise. He lost track of how many nights you’d stitched his skin shut and put his soul back together with nothing but gauze and tape. How many times you’d pressed soft kisses to the rough skin of his hands, soaked in so much blood and death.

You’d even shared some of yourself in return, about the pain you carried from the room you grew up in. But not– Christ, not this.

You stir in your sleep, and for a moment, Frank thinks this is it. His chest aches with the breath he’s holding. But in the end, you just murmur his name and shift a little to the side, falling back into whatever shade was keeping you from him.

He decided then and there that he was going to fix this. Whatever it took, whoever he needed to be for you.

You were gonna be okay. He’d make sure of it.

Please feel free to lmk what you think! xoxo Peach

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the-boy-king-rp-multi · 24 days

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bold any fears which apply, italicize what makes them uncomfortable ↳repost, do not reblog!

the dark ⋆ fire ⋆ open water ⋆ deep water ⋆ being alone ⋆ crowds ⋆ confined spaces ⋆ open spaces ⋆ change ⋆ war ⋆ failure ⋆ loss of control ⋆ powerlessness ⋆ prison ⋆ blood ⋆ drowning ⋆ suffocation ⋆ public speaking ⋆ forest ⋆ the supernatural ⋆ heights ⋆ loss ⋆ dying ⋆ death ⋆ love ⋆ intimacy ⋆ rejection ⋆ abandonment ⋆ the unknown ⋆ the future ⋆ not being good enough ⋆ scary stories ⋆ speaking to new people ⋆ poverty ⋆ loud noises ⋆ lack of noise ⋆ being touched ⋆ forgetting ⋆ insects ⋆ dogs ⋆ snakes ⋆ illness ⋆ doctors ⋆ thunder storms ⋆ being watched ⋆ eyes ⋆ being vulnerable ⋆ needles or pointed objects ⋆ clowns ⋆ mirrors ⋆ isolation ⋆ shouting

Tagged by: @likewishesonthewind

Tagging: @blxsscd-x-fxrsakcn

#not even god can stop that now | about the muse #sh: daredevil #ch: matt murdock #verse; holy water cannot help you now { main }

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royalbluefairydust · 2 years

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matt murdock smiled more in one episode of she-hulk than in three seasons of daredevil

#do with that what you will #jen's presence something something #she hulk #she hulk spoilers #sh spoilers #idk how else to tag i don't go here #matt murdock #daredevil #jennifer walters #disney #marvel

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marvelsmusings · 9 months

Note

😏 ( Matt x kinsley)

Matt had been just fine, in and out of a dazed sleep with all the noises of the city finally pushed to the back of his mind.

It had taken him time to get to a point where he could hear sirens and not immediately pulled on his suit.

For her.... for her he took a deep breath, and he tried harder to balance his double life Kinsley knew nothing about.

Sleep kept tugging him under, half awake, half in a dream. That was, until he heard the little whine that left the blonde's lips. She was still asleep, but he could hear the uptick in her heartbeat. He could feel the shift of the bed next to him as her body reacted to whatever dream she was having and God, did he ever wish he could listen to her thoughts.

Slowly, slightly more awake, he reached down, his hand snaking down his body until he gripped his length, a nearly silent gasp leaving him as he stroked his shaft, his thumb swiping over the head of his cock.

Enveloped by her scent and the quick drum of his lover's heartbeat, he did his best not to let his hips buck to move the bed, though it wasn't the easiest endeavor. He thought for a moment about slipping below the covers to wake her, but he wanted her to get rest. She had work the next morning and didn't need to lose sleep because of him.

@perilousxlives

#sh; the devil you know #c; matt murdock

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42donotpanic · 10 months

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Writer's Pride Month 2023

Full Story: Safe Place

Chapter 1: Support / 1145 / TW: Unsafe Binding

Chapter 2: Community / 3265 / TW: Involuntary Drug Use

Chapter 3: First Realisation / 1830

Chapter 4: Attraction / 2156 / TW: Injuries

Chapter 5: Resistance / 1381 / TW: Transphobia, Injury, Self Harm, Implied Past Suicide Attempt

Chapter 6: Old Age / 1973 / TW: Transphobia, Body Dysphoria, Self Harm, Alcoholism, Drug Abuse

Chapter 7: QPR / 1581

Chapter 8: Intersectionality / 3297 / TW: Transphobia, Intersectional Homophobia, Unsafe Binding

Chapter 9: Aromantic / 3354 / TW: Body Dysphoria, Sensory Overload

@writersmonth

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n-m-and-p-avocados-at-law · 2 years

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One thing that this episode really affirmed is that Matt is happiest when he can be both lawyer-Matt and Daredevil-Matt. He can’t shut one or the other off. I’m so happy he literally got to be both at the same time in this episode.

#she hulk spoilers #spoilers #daredevil #matt murdock #post sh thoughts

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thenotsoholyspirit · 4 months

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Holding

Matt murdock x reader (angst)

Summary: "Maybe, after all, my insecurities were right"

(Note: This is my first little writing idea. I hope you like it as I'll try my best to test some more ❤️✨️. Also, a bit of a warning for some self depricating thoughts)

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡

Another night.

Another night of longingly looking at the window.

I sigh as I look by the curtains of the living room, only being able to wonder where he could've gone. Even at night, I'm used to leaving them open to see if his coming. It's so late, I can already dicern a lighter tone of blue in the sky.

"Where are you, Matt?"

It was true that this last month have mostly been made of bickering and side comments. Me complaining about our lack of time and him of my lack of understanding.

Now, our routine is one of him disappearing at dusk only to come back the next morning without a single word. Barely having some time to grab a bite and put his lawyer suit on.

Not a kiss, not a soft touch, not a single loving word.

I still need you

Suddenly, I hear a noise by the window. I immediately recognize the sound of limping steps and a breathless voice. Matt was injured. Something that I've learned living with the devil of Hell kitchen himself is to recognize even the smallest of details. My abilities were far from the super sensed ones he had, but I've become quite good at spotting certain things.

Always so stubborn that I had to figure out myself when something was wrong .

"Dont worry," he used to say, trying to tuck me back into bed. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

"Don't be ridiculous, Matt," I never accepted. Not when I knew he never admitted he needed help. "Here, I'll grab some bandages"

Depending on the night, it was either a simple cut or some deeper wound. Once or twice, I even had to use some homemade anesthesia to sew some stitches. This man has made me feel all sort of fears all at once.

Yet, nothing prepared me for what I was about to feel tonight.

I go open the window only to find a half conscious Matt standing there. His costume scratched on the surface with multiple cuts all over his body. I come closer to him, only for my fingers to be stained as I touch his arm. Blood.

He was bleeding, and he looked surprised to notice me there.

"(Y/n) I-.. You're awake.."

With all my force, I help him walk him across the door until we reach the couch. He's barely able to mumble as I lay him down.

"Shs..," I carefully take off his mask. The first thing I notice are his lost eyes, guilt written all over his face, "Don't push yourself too hard"

I start to undress his torso to get a better look. I had to hold my breath. I'm barely a veterinarian, used to dealing with cats or any domestic animals, but I did know more than enough about human anatomy to notice this was pretty bad. Besides cuts that, thankfully, weren't that deep, It looked like a dard was shot across his dorsal.

"We need to call an ambulance I-"

But Matt stops me, holding my arm.

"Dont.. I-"He tries to stand up by himself, grinding his teeth from pain, "I... "

He drags himself to the other side of the room, where his phone was forgotten last night. I'm confused for a moment until I perceive another shadow perking by the window. It was a woman

I feel a pit in my stomach as I try to understand what is happening here.

"You only came here for....."

I could see the pain in his eyes. I have no words as I come closer to his side now, noticing the small traces of love bites in his neck. Even the smell of his skin felt almost foreign. His body estranged. My heart stops for a moment.

"Sweetheart is not what -"

"What's..whats her name ?"

I hear him slightly gulping, without a single word.

"What's her name, Matthew"

Even if I know he can't see me, I know he can hear my heart beating a thousand miles an hour. He tries to explain bowing his head down.

"It's not..its not what you think... Elektra she...the..Hand..I"

I can only blankly stare at him. He didn't even try to contest my accusation. I feel the first rays of sunshine raising down the window.

"All this time.. I.. tried to be understanding..to be good.."

I start to pace around the room. Not knowing exactly what to say. What think.

What am I even supposed to feel here

"All this time.. - ", I have to stare again at his neck. The mark of infidelity is so horribly noticeable that I feel like throwing up, " All these nights of worry for you to..to do this.."

The little voice in my head speaks again.

I have enough

He tries to approach me, reaching my hand the same timid way he did that time I discovered his double life. He looked so lost , almost guilty. I'd later understand how guilt was ghost in Murdock's life, but at that moment, all I was able to think was to keep him in my arms. To hold him so hard

But I can't do that now. Not tonight.

"You.. you have to go...", I feel the tears rising in my eyes.

"(Y/n) I swear I can-

"Just go!"

I raise my voice a tone as I pull my arm away. I can only think of those sleepless nights, staring at window feeling alone. Feeling abandoned. Maybe it was unfair to think that way, but I never wanted to complain.

I have been so good

I just wanted to be by his side.

Matt seems to want to say something, but he only bites his lips as he deeply breathes. He was still physically hurt after all.

"Im sorry," he can only murmur as he swiftly takes his mask back on, turning away, "Im sorry, sweetheart"

He disappears again through the balcony, alongside the other girl. I see her helping him move, wrapping her arms around him. That's when I finally understand. I'll never be a part of that world, and maybe, just maybe, my insecurities were right.

I wasn't enough for the devil of Hells kitchen.

I look up again. The sun had now completely risen, shining the beautiful blue sky of a new day. I come closer to the window, giving a long view to the city.

He won't be here tonight.

I close the curtains before turning off the living room lights.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader angst #marvel x reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x reader angst

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hellsburners · 8 months

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strain and torment

summary: reader has insane bi panic pairing: matt murdock x male reader x elektra natchios word count: 3.2k warnings: 18+ warning, bi!top matt, bi!male reader, threesomes, p in v sex, anal seggz, reader and elektra do it, dom/sub themes a/n: part 2 of the pain and suffering duo fic!

masterlist | more matt murdock

gif credit

“We’re here,” you said, facing him. His crimson lenses glinted against the porch light, his veiny hands tight around the walking cane. There was a smile on his face, the same face you’ve grown to love and adore, the dimples more prominent. “Are you sure you could head home alone?”

“Yes,” he chuckles. “I can manage, you should go rest.”

“And—that’s it?” you said, teetering. He laughs, that breathy laugh he always makes, the one that also makes you laugh. His hand reaches for your face, calloused fingertips brush your cheek lacing through your hair. You close your eyes, appreciating his warm touch. His other hand wraps around your waist pulling you to him.

Your chests meet, feeling your heart beat faster and louder, like his alarm in the morning—alerting him. He presses his lips against yours, his stubble prickling a bit. He felt your warmth, your scent, your taste, it was inebriating. You pull back, catching your breath, he pulls you back in. He wants this moment to last, the moments where it was just you and him—happy.

Matt finally releases you, and a shot of anxiety crashes through him. This won’t last, he thinks. After two weeks of flirting back and forth, he was happy for a time, but he knew the risks. Just a few days ago you found him lumped on the floor unconscious, his eyes sunken in, purple bags around his eyes. He knew how worried you were, the way your breathing would quicken, your heartbeat too fast, and your hands cold and shaking. He hated how it made you feel, that’s why he thought of ending it as soon as possible. Maybe Foggy was right, this lifestyle isn’t suited for a mundane relationship.

“Goodbye,” he smiled, the guilt eating him up. He turned to walk away, hailing a cab across the street. You head back to your apartment, you notice the way Matt’s mood shifted. It has been bothering you for days. He would always say he fell down the stairs or he slipped, but you’re not dumb, you know how different those bruises are. It worries you too much.

—

You fumbled to open the door, the keys got caught on some pins. You dragged yourself to the fridge for a drink, you took the box of juice and a glass, pouring yourself a drink. The cold liquid shook your body off of the anxiety, it was soothing in a way.

“Hello there,” a voice said. Your body jumped, the glass falling from your hand as you turned around. There was a woman in your dining room. She was slim and sharp, she could’ve been a model you thought, with long black hair cascading down her shoulders. She wore a maroon suit, wraps of the red cloth around her waist and hands. Then you saw it, a faint glimmer of silver at her hip, two blades sheathed, fear raised from your chest.

“Who the hell are you?” you shouted, brows furrowed. You could feel the wetness on your feet, under the shards of glass. She stood up from her seat, walking to you in a cat-like manner, slow and precise.

“I’m no one, especially to you,” she said, her voice low and sultry. Her eyes were dark, like a siren, her red lips sharp as she grinned.

“So—why are you in my apartment then?” you said, sarcastically.

“Just to look,” she said, scanning you with her dark gaze, her long lashes batting at you.

“Okay lady you’re creeping me out,” you said, sweat forming on your forehead. “I need you to leave.”

You inch forward but she quickly grabs the phone on your kitchen counter. She takes a look at your screen, the photo of Matt at Fogwell’s set as your background. “Aww, how cute,” she said. You grabbed the phone from her hand, hiding it away. She had this mischievous look on her face, taunting you. “You must be Matthew’s new boy toy.”

“Boy toy?” you were shocked. “You know Matt? And what’s with this ninja outfit?”

“Ninja?” she chuckled. “Which part of this get-up says ninja?” You gestured at the blades on her hip. “Ah, smart boy. Matthew’s taste must have improved.”

“Lady, you’re not answering my questions.”

“Because they’re dumb questions,” she said. She inched forward, her long fingers touching your chin. She was beautiful up close, almost otherworldly. Her arm reaches past your shoulder to the fridge to grab the box of juice. She grabs a glass and pours herself a drink as you stand frozen. Your head is riddled with so many questions.

“Fine—I’m Elektra Natchios,” she said, taking a sip of the juice. “And I’m here to save your life.”

—

Matt asked for the cab to stop only a few meters from your apartment. The cab driver was confused, Matt gave the man some money before he left. His senses were off, something was wrong. He could smell it from afar, his head scanned across the street, the smell of the dead. Like rotting corpses. He could also hear metal sliding across each other, like a hundred blades unsheathing.

He tried to pinpoint where they were coming from and then it hit him, it was coming from your building. He rushed through the people on your street, bumping into shoulders, curses flying around as he hit their bodies a little too strong. Fear inched at his nape, sweat trickling down his skin.

He reaches the entrance of the building, the door ajar. He ran to the stairs, running to your unit, he was getting tired but soon the adrenaline came over him. He reached the fourth floor, his senses were off, and he couldn’t find your scent. He runs to the last door on the right, a body lumped on the floor the taste of iron on Matt’s lips.

He tried, he tried to find it—any semblance of your presence but there was none. He could smell the faintest jasmine scent, a familiar scent to Matt, a scent he knew would only signal bad news.

“Where is he?” he said, entering the room.

The slender figure, wiping the blood off her face, left a last kick on another man on the floor. The entire room was a mess, tables were broken, vases toppled over, and around twelve men were dead on your apartment floor. “Oh there you are,” she said, taking a glass of juice from the counter. “I haven’t seen you for months and you don’t even say hi.”

“Answer my question Elektra,” he said.

“He’s safe with me,” dropping the glass on the floor, a thousand shattered pieces littering the already messy room. “He’s on the way to my penthouse with my driver.”

“Who did this?”

“Your little devil adventures pissed off the wrong men,” she said. She reached down to the body on her feet, pulling on the man’s hair. “Tell him who sent you,” her blade placed on his jugular.

“The Rose sends his regards,” the man grunts, blood pooling on his mouth before he passes.

“Richard Fisk?” Matt said.

“Putting the Kingpin behind bars left the city ripe for the taking,” Elektra said. “Stay with me for a while, we can think of how we can deal with this there—plus he’s there too.”

She noticed the way his hand clenched, knuckling white as his nails dug into his palms. She touches his hand, rubbing her thumb to soothe him. “Elektra—I can’t lose him,” his voice hitches, tears forming.

“And you won’t,” she whispered. “I swear, I’ll help you.”

“How would I know you’re not deceiving me again,” he said, pulling his hand away from her. “There’s always a price when you’re involved.”

“Richard Fisk is ruining business for me. Help me get rid of him and you’ll never see me again,” her lips graze Matt’s ear. “Plus—you and me fighting criminals, like old times,” she smirked.

Matt bit his lips in contempt.

—

Elektra’s penthouse was big, with high ceilings and massive windows painted gray. It was cold and dark, You sat near the kitchen counter, your hands shaking. The sight from your apartment was frightening. Elektra took down a bunch of armed men, her body moving swiftly with such grace she was like a red sword cutting through the men like nothing.

She managed to drag you outside the apartment, shoving you inside a black SUV, and told the driver to bring you to her penthouse. You were in so much shock during the car ride. Your home would probably be a crime scene, all your belongings left there for the cops to find, you even left your phone there, with all your precious pictures of Matt.

The door swung open. You looked to see Elektra enter the room, her clothes soaked in blood. Behind her was Matt, his suit all messy and his hair all tousled. You ran to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. His hands gripped onto you hard. “God, I’m glad you’re safe,” he whispered.

“What happened?” you asked, Elektra vanished from the scene, her clothes left on the floor trailing to her room.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth,” he said, his hands firm on your waist. You saw the duffel bag Matt had left on the doorstep, a billy club protruding from the opening.

“Are you?” you uttered. “The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?”

He nods, it would explain everything, the bruises, the wounds, the constant pain weighing on his shoulders as if he carried the world. “How?” you said, your brows furrowed as your hands roamed his chest.

“It’s a lot to explain, but trust me I’ll tell you everything,” he said. “No more secrets.”

Your hands went to his collar, pulling him into a kiss. His lips, were warm against yours as his arms hugged your waist. His kiss was filled with want, pulling you tighter to take you in. It was feverish like he craved for your taste on his lips. He breathed in, taking in your warm scent into his lungs, the fear from earlier leaving his senses.

His fingers reached under the hem of your shirt, calloused fingertips warm against your back. Your hands smoothed through his soft hair, his lips falling to your cheek, down to your jaw, to your neck, the roughness of his chin pricking your neck. His lips pressed onto your skin, the tip of his tongue toying with your jugular. He would leave a few marks on your neck, drawing moans out of you, It was lewd, you had forgotten you weren’t in your homes.

You heard the clinking of glasses, Elektra was setting up three glasses and an expensive bottle of scotch. “You horny boys ready for a drink or what?” she sneered. Matt sighed, letting go of you.

The three of you shared a drink, the bitterness surely shook the anxiety away. “Care to discuss how you two know each other?” you asked. Matt choked on his drink, and Elektra smirked.

“Yes Matthew, do tell your boyfriend here how we met.”

“Elektra was my ex in college,” Matt said, his voice hoarse.

“Ah,” you said, taking another sip of the liquor. You avoided their gazes, swirling your glass around doing anything to distract yourself from imagining Matt on top of Elektra or Elektra on top of Matt or—

“If it’s any consolation for you,” she said. “I broke it off. Not that Matthew wasn’t an excellent lover, he surely is well endowed.”

You choked on your drink. Matt shook his head in disbelief.

“Especially in the bedroom,” she said. “His skill is unparalleled.”

“Can we stop this conversation,” Matt broke off, waving his hand around.

“So, how long are we staying here?” you asked.

“As long as Fisk’s son is brought to justice,” he said. “We’ll take care of it.”

You downed the drink, the alcohol burning your throat. You noticed Elektra staring at you, her dark eyes piercing through you like she could tell all your secrets just from reading your body language. You look back at her, your brows furrowed in confusion. She smiles, that same devious smile she makes, like a temptress.

“Does it bother you?” she asked. Matt had left to get your things settled for the night.

“No,” you answered, bile rising from your stomach. Was it jealousy? Or utter curiosity? That Matt would settle for you after dating someone who looked like a Greek goddess. “Do you have a problem with me? From the moment you saw me you’ve been taunting me.”

Her smile fades.

“If anything I think the jealous one here is you.”

She chuckles under her breath. “I’m not jealous,” she smiled, inching closer to you. “Matt had spoken to me about you, how much he adores you. And somehow it intrigued me.”

“Intrigued you?”

“How it’ll be like to have you,” she said. “To see what Matthew sees in you.”

She sets her index finger on your chin bringing your face to her. You could smell her lip gloss, a soft cherry scent. You inched closer as well, your breaths meeting. Heat rose to your cheeks painting them red. Her slender hands found your waist, hooking onto a belt loop and pulling you in.

“What’s going on?” you heard Matt clear his throat. Elektra knew he heard everything, and her stable heart would indicate she was telling the truth.

She spun you so you were facing Matt, his shirt abandoned leaving him in his trousers. “Just wanted to play. Your boyfriend here seemed eager.”

“Is that true?” he said, his voice stern and commanding. “Do you want to play with Elektra?”

“Only if you allow it,” you said. Matt’s eyebrow raised as if you just said the wrong thing. “I meant, only if you allow it, sir.”

“Oh, has he been trained well?” Elektra said, her hands finding your hair, tugging.

“Yeah, always obedient,” he came close to you and Elektra. “You know your safe words right?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good,” he said, taking his head to your lips. A soft whimper leaves your mouth, you can hear Elektra chuckle. Matt’s large hands find your waist, reaching behind to grasp a handful of your ass.

You could feel Elektra leave soft kisses on your neck, her hands roaming all over your torso. Your knees buckle from all their touching, your knees almost giving out. She finds the growing erection in your center, her hands palming it. You cry in Matt’s kiss, falling out of balance.

Elektra grabs the two of you by the wrists, dragging you to her room. It was massive, with big windows overlooking the city skyline, a king-sized bed with maroon sheets, and some gym equipment at the side.

Matt sits on the bed, palming his erection. He pulls you to his lap, sucking on your neck leaving marks. Elektra comes to join you, standing in between your legs to press a kiss on your lips. She was sweet and her lips soft.

“Show Elektra how good you are sweetheart,” Matt whispered.

You knelt in front of Matt taking his cock out. You left soft kisses along his erected shaft, licking the from the base to the leaking tip. Elektra went to sit on the small chair near her vanity. Her hands playing with her sex.

Your lips pressed on the tip of Matt’s cock, and he shuddered from the contact. You slowly envelop the head with your wet lips, taking him till your nose hit the base of his cock. Matt lets out a guttural moan, his hand gripping your hair.

Elektra played with her clit, circling her fingers on the sensitive nub. You could hear her moan just from watching you, you start to touch your sex, anything to deal with your aching cock.

“See? He’s a good slut,” Matt said. You continued to bob your head on his cock going down and sucking up.

“Let’s see if he can do the same here,” Elektra said. You crawled your way to her, her panties already gone, her sex glistening against the dim lights. You present your tongue to her as you lap on her slit, licking and sucking on her clit while you tease her entrance. She shudders, pulling you in through your hair, her thighs shaking on each side of your face.

You could feel Matt pull your pants and underwear off, his stubbled face in between your cheeks soon after. You continue to taste her at the same pace Matt was licking your hole, gripping tightly on your ass as he ate you out.

“Shit—” Elektra moans, her long nails scratching your scalp.

“Is that good mistress?” you said, looking up at her with tears running down your face, your lips swollen and wet.

“Very good,” she whimpers once more.

After Elektra came for the first time you were soon on her bed. Matt lying down, you straddling his dick, while Elektra rode Matt’s face. You and Elektra were moaning from Matt’s actions, his thick cock filling you well while his tongue played with her clit.

Your hands held onto Matt’s chest for stability, Elektra pulling you in for a kiss, her mouth swollen and drooling as she pressed onto you. She moved her hips forward and back on Matt’s face as she soon came for a second time, an ethereal glow plastered on her face.

Matt later placed you on the bed, your legs on each side of his waist as he fucked you more vigorously. Elektra lay next to you stroking your cock as Matt riled his hips inside you, his hair all wet and his lips swollen. Precum leaked onto your belly, Elektra took some of it to taste and to use as lube for herself. She later took your cock inside her, straddling you as Matt took his fill inside you.

Matt’s arms wrapped around Elektra’s waist, fondling her breasts and tweaking her nipples while another hand played with her clit. Sharing a kiss, they looked like a pornographic painting, Matt was big and full of muscle while Elektra was small and delicate. Elektra’s pussy felt so good on your cock, and Matt’s thickness only drove you closer to unraveling.

“You look so pretty taking us sweetheart,” Matt groans, Elektra agreeing with him. They bent over to share a kiss with you, their tongues meeting yours as you moaned.

“I’m close—” you said, Elektra smirked. She rolled her hips harder, clenching on your cock as she rode her high. Her body convulsed on your dick she was shaking so hard it sent vibrations on your cock triggering your climax.

You came inside her and the vibrations from your bodies only aided in Matt’s release. The three of you were moaning messes as you came crashing down on the bed, naked bodies all wet and panting.

Matt smoothed your hair out before kissing you on the lips, Elektra doing the same.

You spent the month living with Elektra, the sex continued until the mission was done. The three of you spent the nights researching and fucking all over her loft, like animals. Sooner or later Matt found out Elektra had an ulterior motive which led her to leave again. Your relationship with Matt never changed but you still thought of those nights whenever you lay with Matt.

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

#matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #daredevil smut #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x male reader #daredevil x male reader #matt murdock x male reader smut #daredevil x male reader smut #elektra natchios smut #elektra natchios x reader #matt murdock x reader x elektra natchios

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saintmurd0ck · 2 years

Text

just the tip, princess | matt murdock x f!reader | one-shot

masterlist | art | thoughts

summary: it's finals week. maybe a study night turn truth-or-dare is the one thing you need to finally relax.

warnings: college matt murdock, drinking (only a little), religious references (BLASPHEMY), matt's cocky personality, oral m and f receiving, protected p in v, orgasm denial, penetration denial (i think?), look there's a lot in this

a/n: in honour of all the recent dd news, i give you this: an unholy anthology of self-indulgence. that is all.

accompanying songs: so it goes… (taylor swift) & false god (taylor swift)

Matt’s voice breaks your concentration, tearing you away from your short-response test booklet. “One more practice question, and then we’ll take a break, deal?”

You fling a hand out to the side, swatting at him absentmindedly until your finger finds its mark against his lips. “Shh, Matty, one sec, let me finish this.”

He gives you a reluctant sigh as your pencil scratches away at the paper, movement flickering in the corner of your eye as he waves his hand around his feet. His fingers close around something quietly tucked away to the side of your desk, liquid sloshing in the bottle as he brings it up to his lips.

“Matthew Murdock,” you mock-gasp, eyeing him with a mix of awe and disdain, “we have a final in two days and you’re supposed to be studying.”

He shrugs, taking another big sip.

“Oh, give me that,” you chastise, reaching forward for the bottle, but he swerves out of the way haphazardly, wheels rattling as his chair thumps against the side of your bed. You turn to face him as he’s knocked off balance by the impact, tapping your pencil on your chin as you watch him feel for the mattress behind him, then as he hoists himself up on the bed.

“Foggy said we could have this to ourselves,” he chuckles, raising his eyebrows, then the bottle – “so I brought it with me.”

Your lips press together in disbelief before curling into a wry smile. “Fireball, Matthew? You’re drinking straight Fireball.” You shake your head as he tips the bottle into his mouth. “You’re sick.”

“It tastes go–” he rasps, fist coming up to his face as he coughs. “It tastes good!”

You set your pencil down on the paper, eyes quickly scanning over what’s been written, curt nod affirming your satisfaction of the response. “Okay then,” you lean forward on your knees, interlacing your fingers under your chin, “are you gonna share any? Since, y’know, it’s for the both of us.”

He tilts his head to the side, hand coming up to wipe his mouth before nudging his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You want some?”

You shrug indifferently. “Yeah, I’ll indulge.”

You reach forward for the bottle but he yanks it backwards, head tipping back with roaring laughter.

“Matt, give it to me!”

He flashes you a shit-eating smirk as he raises his eyebrows. “You want it that badly?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. You hide your flustered face in your hands. “You little sh–”

He holds out the bottle in front of him, head cocked, intently listening to the shuffle of your feet against the carpet. “Well? Are you gonna come and get it?”

You huff, hand beginning to close around the bottleneck, brushing against the slippery glass where the whiskey’s spilled down the side, but he pulls backwards again.

“Matthew Michael Murdock!” you bellow, watching him clutch his side as he breaks out into an infectious fit of laughter.

A sound of bewilderment. “How do you know my middle name?!”

You scrunch your nose, slapping his knee. “I’m your best friend, silly. It’s my job to find out.”

“Foggy told you, didn’t he?”

Silence from you.

“Maybe,” you mumble.

“Foggy looked at my state ID and told you, right?”

“Maybe!” you yelp, suddenly very interested in your essay.

“You both looked at my ID?! You pickpocketed me?!”

You throw out a measly insult as you avert your gaze, face hot with embarrassment. “Don’t get all preachy on me now, Murdock.”

He gasps with feigned disbelief, hand curling tighter around the bottleneck as the other points to the ceiling. “Don’t bring the big guy into this.”

“You– oh! God, now I need a drink.”

Without second thought, you lunge at him, but as if he can predict your every movement, he sticks his foot out to trip you as you reach for the bottle. Suddenly, you’re a flurry of arms, movement and profanities, tumbling forward into something that breaks your fall… something warm, comforting, surprisingly muscular.

Not something.

Matt.

The world stops for a second as you hover on top of him, his Fireball-tinged breath mixing with yours, chest growing taut as your mouths are mere centimetres apart. It feels as if your heartbeat completely vanishes for a second, thick silence accompanied with only the sound of your stuttered breathing and the blood roaring in your head. You study the deep rise and fall of his chest, ignoring the unfamiliar feeling coursing through your veins as his arm wraps around your waist, holding you steady.

His tongue snakes out to wet his lips, and that movement alone sends you down to hell. Your stomach falls through your body, dampening your panties with a sudden desire you didn’t think you possessed. Sure, Matt’s attractive and all, and he knows it – well, surely he has to, considering the number of people in your cohort alone who wanted to take him to bed – but you’ve never looked at him that way. He’s always been your friend, your support system. Insufferable at times.

You flick your gaze downwards to where your legs are, straddled over his hips. You’re hovering over him, but with one little movement, just one… you’d be pressed up entirely against him. You’re suspended here, unaware of how heavy your breathing has become, consumed with thoughts about your best friend that friends just… aren’t supposed to have.

This can’t happen.

It’s an awkward shuffle as you push off him and shoot straight back into your chair, but it’s followed by the exchanging of gently stifled laughter, ice quickly broken as you take advantage of his stupor, snatching the bottle off him.

The liquor goes down easy. Easier than expected.

“Damn Murdock,” you say in between mouthfuls, “you’re lucky you didn’t spill any on my bed, or I would’ve kicked your ass.”

His retort comes out fast. “I kinda wanna see you try, but you’d get in trouble.” Your eyebrow arches at the cheeky grin that proceeds. “Y’know, for beating up a blind person.”

The opportunity to stick your tongue out at him is a moment rarely passed up, and this situation changes nothing.

He grabs the bottle off you. “Hey, stop making faces at me. I can tell by the way your mouth moves.” His attempt to mimic you falls flat, and all he has to show for it is the cutest frown.

“Not even close, Murdock.”

Nothing prepares you for the effect his resounding snort has on you; the way it makes itself home in the centre of your chest, the sweet sound sending your brain into overdrive. You’re looking at him, big shiny eyes and all, flitting over his every breath, his every action. Fuck, it’s like he’s laced the atmosphere or something, drawing you to him like a moth to flame.

God fucking damn it. He always knew how to tease you, how to leave you biting back a smile, but this time, the feeling isn’t irksome. He’s getting your heartrate up, making you cross your legs, leaving you wanting to twirl your hair and kick your fucking feet together.

Thank God your roommate is away, even if for a few nights. You’re thanking your lucky stars, because if she were here, she would’ve made at least ten comments about how you two needed to fuck already. You can hear her voice, clear as day, echoing in your mind. ‘Stop flirting and just do it already. It’ll probably be the best of your life.”

You clench at her latter comment, at the way she’s so nonchalantly arrived at that conclusion. Your spine tingles at the thought, at the way you secretly want to find out for yourself.

Maybe all this is the result of the universe telling you to get laid.

By him.

No! Not by him.

You know you want it.

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, ignoring the angel and devil sitting on your shoulders, “I cannot believe you asked me for a break, Matt. I didn’t think the word was in your vocabulary.”

Amusement glints in his laugh.

“Ahh,” you start, nodding, “it’s because you’re drunk. I so knew ordinary Matty wouldn’t ask for a break.”

He reaches for your hand, which you give him without a second thought, to pull you and your chair towards him, wheels turning against the carpet. Suddenly you’re close to him again, knees touching as he shakes the bottle from side-to-side. “More drinking, less observing?”

A giggle eases from your lips as you lean forwards, forehead touching against Matt’s. His skin is warm against yours, presumably from the alcohol in his system, and your lips flicker into a smile.

“What uh… what are you thinkin’ about?” he asks, tilting his chin downwards as he pushes harder against your forehead.

You bite back a yelp, fighting every instinct within you to keep your composure as his hands creep forward to interlace his fingers with yours. Every nerve in your body is firing at rates beyond your comprehension as his breath fans over your face, pearly grin tugging at the knot building behind your stomach.

“I… um–” The growing smile on your face does little to hide your thoughts, and you can only muster a few words as your voice comes out in a squeak. “Um… drink, please?”

Matt lets out a breathy laugh as he pulls away, reaching down to retrieve the bottle by his feet. He brings it up to your face, nudging the lip of the bottle towards your mouth. Your toes curl at the action, thighs snapping together to curb the building throbbing between your legs, but you quickly polish off what little remains in the bottle, praying that the burn of the whiskey is distraction enough from your feelings.

It works well enough.

“So,” Matt asks, listening to the creak in your chair as you set the empty bottle on the ground, “what do you wanna do?”

“Hmm?”

“C’mon, let’s do something. What about a game? Do you wanna play a game?”

You squint your eyes as you examine your nails, picking at invisible dirt along your cuticles. “A game, Matthew?”

“Yeah. Somethin’ like… I dunno, truth or dare?”

“What are you, sixteen?”

Matt scoffs, slapping his hands on his knees. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

That whiskey-burn “distraction” lasted all of thirty seconds.

The little whine in his voice widens your eyes, more so as you notice Matt’s growing smirk, and the way he tries to hide it in his hands as he waits for your answer. You’re not sure if it’s the liquor talking or well, just you, but your answer rolls off your tongue.

“Alright Matt,” you say, getting up off your chair to sit across him on the bed, leaning against the headboard. “Care to go first?”

The bed dips as he shuffles towards you, nestling his head in your lap. “Nothing would bring me a greater honour,” – a comment that makes you roll your eyes – “truth or dare?”

“Wait a second, is there a punishment if we don’t want to do something?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like, if you ask me something and I don’t wanna answer it.”

“Oh! I mean yeah, I guess you don’t have to.”

You flash a smile at him as he relaxes his body, bending one knee as he straightens his other leg. “Truth.”

“Hmm… lemme see.” He purses his lips together as he thinks of a question. “Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

A wistful look dances across your face as you contemplate his question. “That’s– that’s surprisingly a good question. Alright, well, still close to you and Foggy, of course. And, I dunno, maybe have my own law firm. Ooh! And I wanna travel. Europe, especially.”

Matt hums at your answer. “That’s a lot of things.” He waits a moment before adding, “I like that about you. You’re ambitious.”

You swallow thickly as his words brand themselves in your head. “Y-your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“The same question then. Where are you in ten years?

Matt grins. “Still here, in the city. And… I have a law firm. It’s called Nelson and Murdock” – he brandishes an invisible sign in the air before continuing – “Attorneys at Law.” Your heart skips a beat at his earnest confession.

He goes quiet. “I, uh, I just wanna do what’s right, y’know?”

“Yeah, Matt,” you whisper. “I’m excited to see where this all takes you. And it’s sweet that you and Foggy picked that out already.”

Matt beams, in no particular direction. “Alright. Your turn again. Truth or dare?”

You hesitate for a second. “Dare.”

“Aw, but I’m so comfy lying here.”

You hiss at him as you pinch his shoulder.

“Fine, fine. Okay. I dare you to… tell me a secret you’ve never told anyone.”

“Matthew Murdock, is that not a thinly veiled truth?”

He reaches behind him to pat your thigh, biting his lip at your discovery.

Oh, you’re gonna make him regret being lazy. You contort yourself over him, leaning down into his ear. “When I was in high school, I snuck a friend of mine in through the window and we…” you drop your voice, whispering the rest of your story, dragging out every syllable so the words stick in his mind.

His face reddens at your admission, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he tries to find the words, but they don't come out. Your next words are laced with the smugness of your previous efforts. “You go now.”

“I choose dare.”

“I dare you to call Foggy and say you’re madly in love with him.”

Matt erupts into laughter. “You’re not serious.”

“Feel my heartbeat, Matthew.” You pick up a hand from where they’re folded on his chest, lifting his palm towards you. Your eyes lull back in your head as he flattens his hand against the left side of your chest, voice shaking as you speak. “See, Matthew? Steady.”

He sits up in a flash, holding his palm outstretched as you hand him his phone, Foggy’s number already dialling.

Loud music blares over the phone speaker. ‘Hello? Matt? You okay?’

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, um–”

“Matt, you’re gonna have to speak up a little.” A woman’s voice calls out Foggy’s name.

Matt clears his throat, raising his voice just a little. He bites his lip, tilting his head away from your snicker. “I love you, Foggy.”

“Oh man! I love you too, buddy.”

You nudge Matt to say the words. “No, no, I mean, I love you.”

“I love you too!”

“No!” Matt pushes his hair back, exasperated. “I mean, I’m in love with you.”

A moment of silence fills the air.

That woman’s voice again. “Foggy, is everything okay?”

“Yeah yeah,” – Foggy says to the woman, before focusing back on Matt. “Um… everything alright with you, Matt?”

“Yes! I lo– Everything’s fine. I’ll just… I'll see you tomorrow.”

The phone clicks off without another word.

“Oops,” you tease, words slurring a little, “sounds like someone has some explaining to do.”

Matt cracks his knuckles before placing his phone back on your desk. “Oh I am definitely going to get you back.”

Sprawled vertically on the bed with your legs hanging off the edge, you lay shoulder-to-shoulder with Matt, the contents of the Fireball bottle already long gone. Your hands are clasped together on your chest as your eyelids flutter closed, content in Matt’s presence. The last couple hours were the most fun you had in a long time, and God knows you deserve it, especially after this semester.

Matt is the first to break your temporary silence, words quiet as he directs them towards the ceiling. “So, you think Foggy and Marci are gonna last?”

“I dunno Matt, I think your little confession there might’ve broken them for good.”

A half-smile blossoms across his lips. “You know what? I wouldn’t blame Foggy for picking me. I am loveable after all.”

“You are very loveable. Even my roommate thinks so.”

“Really? Her? I didn’t think she could love anyone.”

“Yep,” you sigh, stretching your arms out and putting your hands behind your head. “She loves you so much she thinks that we should get together. Sorry, I mean, that we should” – you lower your voice – “hook up, for lack of a better… less rude… word.” A shiver runs through your body at what you’ve just said.

Matt’s on his side in a nanosecond, facing you as he props himself up on one elbow. His expression is unreadable, mouth tight-lipped as he cocks his head to the side.

You take it as a cue to keep going. “She’s always saying it, seriously. I think she tells people in the hallway, too. And I think Foggy knows? But I haven’t really given it much th–”

“Would that… would that be the worst thing?”

Your eyebrows furrow together, face flooding with confusion. “Huh?”

Matt goes on. “I mean, people don’t really say stuff like that if they don’t mean it, right?”

It takes a full minute for you to register what he’s saying, and you move quickly to respond as the heat begins to bloom in your chest again. “Oh trust me, she says a lot of things she doesn’t mean.”

“No, but, would it really be the worst thing in the world?”

You shudder, every subsequent breath getting heavier. “What are you asking me?”

You watch as Matt’s nostrils flare, as his tongue peeks out to lick his lips again. You’re mirroring him, in the same position that he is, propped up and lying on your side. He lifts a finger to your arm on top, tracing your skin from elbow to shoulder with a featherlight touch. It loosens a gasp that comes from your chest.

“I’m asking you… if it would be the worst thing in the world.” Something shifts in Matt’s face, and he looks uneasy now. “What if…” – he lowers his voice to a whisper – “I wanted to… do that with you?”

No fucking way.

“Do… what? Matt, where is this coming from?”

He tentatively shuffles closer to you, but still keeping a far enough distance that you can roll away if you need to. “Your roommate’s right. I think we should stop pretending.”

No. Fucking. Way.

“Matt, of course it would be the worst thing in the world. I mean, okay, not the worst thing, but sex can ruin friendships. And c’mon, I’m not ready to lose you.” Your breath hitches in your throat as you get the words out. “Besides, I’ve– I’ve never thought of you like that.”

“That’s a lie.”

You suck your cheeks in, the silence louder than anything you could’ve said to defend yourself. A shit-eating grin appears on his face. “You’ve been thinking about me like that tonight, haven’t you?”

Damn you, Matthew Murdock. “Fine. I have. Is that what you want to hear?”

He sits upright now, smirk disappearing, tilting his chin towards the ground as he plays off a nervous chuckle. It’s as if your answer isn’t what he was expecting. “Look, I just– I like you, okay? I’ve had a really great night, and I– I don’t want to do anything to ruin that. Or our friendship. So, it’s– don’t worry about it.”

He reaches for his cane, neatly folded on your desk, but you make a split-second decision, feeling your heartbeat race as you grab his wrist and tug him back onto the bed. “What if…”

He raises his eyebrows, beckoning you to continue. “What if we, um, I don’t know, this is gonna sound stupid but, what if we explored this using the game? Using truth or dare?” You wait a moment to read his expression. “That way it’s just a game right? And it won’t mean anything, unless we want it to.”

“That’s– that’s good. That’s smart. I like that,” he nods. “And we can end the game at any time.”

You affirm what he’s saying. “Yes, if there’s something either of us don’t want to do, we can say the word.”

“Wait,” you pause. “I– maybe that was stupid. I think we’re both drunk.”

Matt furrows his eyebrows. “I’m not drunk.”

You bite your lip, answering him quietly. “Neither am I.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay.”

“You wanna… go first?” Matt gulps.

Your chest caves inwards, heart thundering so hard it feels like it could burst out of your ribcage. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

Your knees go weak at the word. “I dare you to… come closer to me.”

Matt pauses for a moment to take his glasses off, setting them down on your desk. Then, he turns towards your voice, laying down to face you where you’re still propped up, where you’ve been this entire time. The only difference is that he’s close now, so close you can feel the heat radiating off his body, and the way his breath flutters against your lips. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you murmur.

“When was the first time you… thought of me like that?”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you recall the memory. “It was the first year of college, when Foggy tried to hit on me and you apologised for his behaviour.”

Matt grimaces. “I’m sorry about that… again, and so is Foggy. But that’s… wait a minute,” his eyes narrow, “that was forever ago!” He presses his lips into a choked laugh as you punch his arm.

Ignoring him, your stomach starts to flip as you ask Matt the next question. “Truth or dare?”

His mouth moves into a cheeky grin. “Dare.”

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck– “I dare you to kiss me.”

The butterflies roil in your stomach as he smiles at you earnestly, bringing one hand up to cup your jaw. His grip is firm, melding to the contours of your face with a surprising ease. He holds you there for a second as he blows a soft chuckle your way, flooding your face with a heat that crawls up your body. He leans forward, slowly, melting his lips against yours, so softly that you can’t fight the moan that slips from your mouth.

The kiss is everything you ever imagined it would be, his mouth moulding to yours in a way that turns your legs to jelly. He nips affectionately at your bottom lip, using your slight surprise to slip his tongue against yours; the taste of Fireball so, so faint.

“Oh my God,” you breathe, breaking the kiss, your foreheads still touching, his hand still on your jaw.

“Oh my God,” Matt affirms, eyes squeezed shut as he loosens a breath.

“I pick dare,” you whisper, biting your lip as Matt reciprocates your shy smile.

“Okay, I dare you to…,” he pauses for a second, pursing his lips, “tell me what you want.”

“That isn’t a dare.”

He’s insistent. “Tell me what you want.”

“You, Matt. I want you.”

His nostrils flare in response, tips of his ears going pink as he nods, leaning in to kiss you again. Tangling one hand in your hair, he flattens his other palm against your collarbone, mouth roving over your jaw, then trailing down your neck, sucking on a sensitive spot near your shoulder that makes you moan. Your hands press against his chest, relishing in the way he grunts at your touch.

“Matthew,” you groan into his hair, as he soothes the bruise on your neck with his tongue, “I want to take your clothes off.”

“You wanna take my clothes off?”

“Mmhm.” And another moan as he guides you to lay flat on your back.

“That’s not a dare either.”

“I know what I said.”

He doesn’t waste any time in tugging his shirt over his head, leaving only his leather-corded crucifix hanging around his neck, metal cross dangling off his chest as he moves down to kiss you. You’re breathless, unable to speak, utterly incoherent as he grinds himself into your core, the evidence of his growing arousal straining against his sweatpants.

“Damn you, Matthew,” you exhale, pulling your own shirt over your head, unhooking your bra and throwing it to the side.

“What?” he moans, hands moving over your skin, your breasts now bare to him.

You yelp as he rolls your nipples in his fingers, expression darkening as he acquaints himself with your body, the way you buck your hips up into his. “You’re so—“

“Loveable?”

Your head tips back with a cry as his mouth seals around your nipple, tongue flicking against the hardened peak. “No— well, yes, but fuck you’re just… how long have you been hiding that… body underneath those pullovers? Has anyone told you how good you look?”

“I may or may not have heard that a few times.”

You smirk as his mouth meets yours. “Foggy doesn’t count.”

“In that case,” he rasps in your ear, deft fingers trailing up your inner thigh to then unclasp the button of your jeans, “you can be my first.”

Your lips move over his chest as the words flutter into his skin, catching the cross in your teeth. You yank at it lightly, the strained breath he gives you music to your ears. “Oh Matthew, now you’re giving me the honour.”

Mouth curving upwards, Matt hooks his hands into the waistband of your jeans and panties simultaneously, taking his sweet time in dragging the fabric down your legs, exposing you, inch-by-inch until you’re completely bare for him.

Even though the two of you were close before this, closer than most friends were, it feels… jarring to expose yourself like this. With other guys, you wouldn’t hesitate; you’d keep going, get them undressed, have your fun and be done with it, but it’s not like that with Matt.

He’s one of the few people that makes you nervous.

Your legs instinctively move closer to cover yourself but he wedges a hand in between your knees.

Oh, he’s good. He knows, somehow, what you’re feeling.

So he says something that knocks any semblance of your apprehension on its head, something that makes you throb.

“Keep ‘em open. I want you spread for me.”

You surge upwards, the intensity of his words spurring you on, pressing wet kisses down his chest. One to his crucifix, one to his sternum, one in the middle of his– Jesus Christ, those abs. He cards his fingers through your hair at the sensation of your tongue dragging up his navel before nipping at his jaw, stubble scratching at your mouth. Your pussy floods at the guttural moan he makes as your fingers graze over the outline of his cock, the idle circle you trace on his head making him twitch. Your lips meet his as you replace your fingers with your palm, shuddering at the string of dirty curses he groans into your mouth.

You pull away only to marvel at the size of him under your hand, every thick inch of him tenting painfully against his sweatpants. Foggy had mentioned in passing that Matt was packing, but this? Oh, you didn’t expect this.

“Matty,” you exhale, “let me taste you.”

He raises a hand to your chin, tilting your head back with his grip to deepen his next kiss. “Anything you want.”

You latch your fingers onto the elastic waistband of his sweatpants and his boxers underneath, pulling it down to his mid-thighs, unable to contain your gasp as his cock springs free. Your eyes pulsate at the sight of him, pupils completely blown as you take him in his entirety, perfection as you’ve ever seen from base to tip.

You lick first at the precum beading at the head, the salty taste of him coating your tastebuds as he bucks his hips involuntarily onto your outstretched tongue, eyes lulling in the back of your head at the primal sound that escapes his lips. You look up at him with your doe-eyes, watching a muscle feather in his jaw as you wrap your lips around him, flicking your tongue over his tip. He caresses your face with his hands, fingers supporting your jaw as you take all of him in. He hisses as he finds the back of your throat, throwing his head back in ecstasy as you begin to bob your head, not caring that you’re sloppy, that the spit is dribbling from your mouth all over him. From the way he’s grunting your name, you don’t think he minds either.

Matt hums your name dulcetly as you begin to use your mouth and hands in tandem, begging you to let go of his cock, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you as you pull away to wipe your mouth.

“Lay down on your back,” he commands softly, making quick work of shedding the only pieces of clothing left on his body. He kneels for you on the bed as you shuffle back, spreading your legs for him once again. It’s from this angle that your mouth goes dry; the sight of his glistening cock, wet from your spit, ready for the taking.

He leans down to nip at your earlobe as he traces himself up and down your folds, slapping your clit with his cock once. He chuckles deeply in your ear at the mewl you make, purring for you to make the sound again.

So you do.

“Condom, Matthew,” you whisper, breath caught in your throat as you reach over to your nightstand, but he grabs a hold of your wrist and shakes his head.

Your eyes widen at his answer. “I don’t need it just yet.”

He hovers over you for a second, just long enough for you to catch his crucifix in your teeth again, before moving down, settling in between your thighs. You’re sucking your cheeks in at his hot breath against your dripping pussy, so slick with arousal that the air is thick with it, but he doesn’t do anything. He just grins.

He tilts his chin upwards to grin at you, the gesture a little mirthless; a predator about to devour their prey. The metal cross swings with his movements, and you almost bite through your bottom lip as it hits against your clit.

“Not so much a godly man now, are you Matthew? I didn’t think you were allowed to do… this,” you smirk, squeezing your eyes shut as he pinches your clit with his thumb and forefinger.

“I get a pass, y’know, since I get to make an angel feel good.”

A shaky laugh escapes your lips. “Matty… you don’t mean–”

He cuts you off, his sweet tone darkening in an instant. “But since you bring it up, yeah, I’m no saint.” He lifts your hips, shoving his hands under your ass as he brings your pussy to his face.

“But out of all the sins in the world, all that we could’ve chosen to commit…” he clicks his tongue, nostrils flaring as he inhales your scent, “I promise, sweetheart, this one will feel the best.”

And with that, he dives into you.

You’re a squirming mess on his tongue as he licks a broad stripe up your centre, tasting all that you have to offer. He seals his lips around your clit, flicking and sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves, until your back is arched off the bed, until you’re gasping and unable to stop the moans breaking from within.

Matt’s always been polite, classy, the perfect person to bring home to meet your parents, but the way he’s slurping at you like you’re his last meal on earth?

“Naughty, naughty boy,” you purr, grabbing a fistful of his hair as he slips his tongue inside you. You’re grinding into his face at this point, desperate to be filled, to be stretched out, desperate to cum for him as many times as you can.

Your muscles go taut as you near the edge, the threads of your willpower unravelling to one final, fraying strand. He knows it too, that sly bastard, and breaks away from you with one final kiss to your clit.

“Not yet,” he grins, licking wet circles up your thigh.

“Goddamn you, Murdock,” you huff, pulling him up by the shoulders until he’s breathing down your face.

He runs his thumb over the seam of your lips, nudging you for entry. He grits his teeth as you flick your tongue against the pad of his finger, while reaching into your nightstand for a condom. He smirks as you slap the foil packet against your hand a few times, groaning as he pumps himself with his fist. That shit-eating, stomach-stirring smirk grows bigger as he hears you rip the packet open, then as you slide the condom out of the wrapper.

Matt’s hand is outstretched, beckoning for the piece of latex held between your fingers, but you smack it away, wiping all the smug off his face. The moan he murmurs as you squeeze his heavy cock in your hand makes your walls flutter; it makes you ache with the idea of him fucking up into you as deep as he can.

He shudders, sharply exhaling as you roll the condom onto him, then as you tease your slick entrance with the blunt head of his cock.

“We can’t go back from this,” you mumble, breath stuttering as you coat him in your arousal.

His chest heaves with the thought of you, wrapped around him, saying his name like a prayer. “I’m pretty sure it’s a little too late, y’know, considering what we’ve already done.”

He coaxes the tiniest whimper from your mouth as his fingers brush over your clit.

“Hear me out, Matty…” you start, flattening your palms against his chest.

“Yes, angel?”

“What if… what if you just…”

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Just what? Whatever you want, angel. I’ll give it to you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “I dare you…” – you linger your fingertip on the curve of his jaw, before tracing his shoulder – “to put just the tip in me.”

“First of all, we’re still doing that? The game?”

You shrug nonchalantly.

“Secondly, just the tip? You know that still counts as sex, right?”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Okay, I’ll put it in and you tell me that doesn’t count.” His smug smirk that follows spurs you to punch him in the arm.

“Alright Matthew, we’ll see about that.”

“I promise,” he rasps in your ear, teasing himself at your entrance, pushing the slightest bit of himself in, just to make you squeal, “I’ll have you begging for more.”

Your resounding yelp is poorly masked, and it only makes his coy smile grow larger. You’ve known for a long time that Matt was a bit of a manwhore, but he was always so… innocent around you. Never, never in a million years did you think he was capable of… this.

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, chest heaving as he grunts your name, propping a pillow under your hips. “Just the tip, Matthew.”

He leans his weight onto the forearm bracketing your head. “Just the tip, princess.”

You hiss through your teeth as he pushes into you, words transcending you in that moment at the burn of this thick cock stretching you out. You expect the burn to follow through, waiting for the sensation of being oh-so-deliciously full of him, but he moves only a little, only until just the tip of him sits inside you. Oh fucking hell. There is absolutely no way you’re going to let him win this one.

Relaxing your grip on his shoulders, you bite back the exhale that conveys your need, forcing back the urge to squirm on his cock for the friction you so desperately want.

“God,” he grunts, “I’m barely inside you and you feel so… fucking good.”

You allow yourself one breathy moan. Just one.

You’re doing so well, keeping it together, showing absolutely no indication that you need him guts deep inside you, pounding at a pace that shakes the bed.

But then he starts to move.

Cock twitching in your heat, he jerks his hips so lightly, pressing his head into your warmth, before sliding out until he barely remains inside. He repeats the movement, his half-shudder half-chuckle evidence that he’s noticed the way you’re clenching around him, or the way you’re sitting upright, peering down to see where exactly he’s joined to you.

He’s painfully hard for you, latex glistening with the sheen of your arousal. You tilt your hips upwards to get a better angle, watching as he withdraws himself just that bit further, before thrusting into you; the sight of your folds enveloping his cock enough to make you curse.

Abs contracting, and every cord of muscle in his arms going tight, you can tell he’s holding back. You can tell by the redness that blooms in his cheeks and the vast expanse of his chest that he wants more. That he needs more, needs to be deeper; so far inside you that all he could fall apart at any second. You watch where the thick head of his cock enters you, sliding in and out deliriously slow, and that’s when the silence breaks.

All that heavy breathing, those controlled yet shaky stutters as your mouths are pulled apart by pleasure, is interrupted with your drawn out groan as he pushes the next inch into you. Only one inch. One delicious inch.

“Fuck, Matty,” you moan at the sudden fullness, tipping your head back as he flares his nostrils, grunting your name in response to your walls fluttering around him.

It – he – feels so goddamn good, but it isn’t enough. God, for someone who begged to be teased this exact way you’re impatient, so fucking impatient, but you need to find purchase. With every thrust of his hips, the hope – no, the demand – that he says ‘fuck it’ and sheathes himself fully inside you grows, from a dull ache to one that utterly throbs; one that sends reverberating shockwaves through every nerve in your body.

He was right. Of fucking course he’d be right. Matthew, ever-clever, devastatingly handsome, Mr. ‘I just know you’ll need more of me’ was almost never wrong.

Matt slides his lips down by your ear, voice dropping to a bare whisper as he tangles his fingers in your hair. “Let me fuck you properly, please. I don’t care about the game, I just… I need you.” He lifts one of your legs up, hooking his arm around your thigh, opening you up to him even more.

“C’mon then Matty,” you smirk, flicking your tongue against his lips. “Show me what you got.”

The cry that heaves from your chest as he slams himself into you is nothing short of unholy. He moans your name sinfully as he buries himself to the hilt, hips stuttering as he jerks involuntarily, nudging against that spot inside you that threatens to break you in an instant. You whine at the sudden loss of fullness as he retracts himself, to the point where only the tip of him remains, but he fills you again, the pain from his cock stretching you out giving way to ecstasy. It doesn’t take long for you to splinter around him, for your back to arch as you flood his cock with an earth-shattering orgasm.

And in between his steady thrusts and his languid kisses, he pins your legs back, placing one hand on your waist while the other grazes your throat. His pace is ruthless now, all grunts and groans as he works to bring you to the edge once… no, twice more. This must be what heaven feels like.

Your legs turn to jelly as he lifts your legs up straight, crossing your ankles over, holding them there as he bites his lip, the new position turning your pussy into a vice. A vice that wants to milk him bone dry. “So… fuckin’.... tight for me, angel,” he musters, panting as every drag of his cock against your walls brings you both closer and closer to falling apart.

Just as you’re about to cum for him again, he pulls out, flipping you onto your stomach, hoisting your ass up in the air.

“Matty…” you groan, as he tangles his fingers in your hair, kissing your back as he fucks you, relishing the feeling of your sweat-slick skin on his in the most intimate way possible.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he murmurs, kneading your ass, spreading you apart so he can be as deep in you as possible. You lean back into him, arm reaching around to grab the back of his neck; the movement exposing your throat for his hand to grab. He’s getting sloppy, eyes squeezed shut as you near the edge together.

“Fuck, angel…” he pants, holding you tighter, spilling into you with a sound that turns your world to white. You pulsate around his cock as his hips stutter into yours to give you every last drop.

He collapses into you, holding you tightly, listening just to the sound of your breathing. “I know we said it wouldn’t mean anything but…”

Your voice comes out in a squeak as he kisses your shoulder softly. “But?”

A moment of hesitation. “I dunno, that was too good for a once-off game.”

Your mouth curves into a cheeky grin. “Matthew Murdock, pussywhipped already? I didn’t pick you for the type.”

He bites down on your shoulder, smug at your yelp that follows. “Who says it was just tonight that had me pussywhipped?”

You scoff, pushing him off you to sit upright and poke his collarbone. “Hang on a second, was this all some… twisted grand gesture of affection?”

“No! No, I swear, I didn’t plan any of this.”

“Alright, Matty, I believe you.”

He laughs nervously, running his tongue over his teeth.

“Matthew,” you start, sitting up on your knees to throw your hands around his neck. “We just had sex. You don’t have to be nervous to ask me out.”

A shy smile creeps across his face, red blooming in his cheeks. “I’m not nervous–”

You cut him off with a taunting giggle. “Yes, Matthew, I’ll go on a date with you. Of course I will.” A beat, and you poke him in the collarbone again. “So nervous and for what?”

He chuckles lowly, the sound pooling in your core, shaking your arms off him to pounce on you, to lay you flat on your back. “Do I have to do something dramatic to shut you up?”

There’s no mistaking the growing heat between your legs. “Maybe.”

He leans down to nip at your earlobe, smirking against your ear. “Alright then.”

You’re awoken to Matt’s elbow in your face and a string of profanities as he scrambles to get under the sheets, laying as still as possible with his head in your thigh.

“What’s going on?” you hiss, pulling the covers up over your naked chest.

Your eyes widen as the doorknob to your room turns, faint voices echoing in the hallway outside. “How the fuck did you hear that?” you panic, nudging Matt with your elbow.

It’s Foggy’s voice that sounds the closest, although he’s still muffled by the door. “... Yeah, he was saying some weird stuff to me last night and he wasn’t home when I got back so I figured they’ve passed out studying together.”

Then your roommate. “Yeah, studying, sure. It’s about time they–”

“Oh shit.” Foggy gasps dramatically as your knuckles turn white gripping the sheets, surveying the room before him. Nevermind that your thin sheets do absolutely nothing in concealing the obvious outline of Matt’s body; the multiple open condom packets on the ground and the empty bottle of Fireball is evidence enough. Matt’s head pops up from under the covers, his sheepish smile directed at no one in particular.

Your roommate clasps her hands, smirking as she shakes her head. “I told you, Foggy.”

Foggy’s vacant expression is startled away as his eyes narrow in on the crucifix still hanging from Matt’s neck. “Do not tell me you left that on while you had sex. Why’d you have to bring the big guy into this?” He steps backwards, holding his hands up. “You know what? I’m outta here. I’ll see you” – he points at Matt – “later.”

Your roommate follows Foggy outside a second later, calling out to you as the door shuts softly. “Can you two get dressed? I have an exam in two hours.”

You giggle, pressing a tender kiss to Matt’s lips before whispering in his ear. “Surely there’s time for a little more?”

“Oh sweetheart,” he grins, “absolutely.”

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #college matt murdock #daredevil smut #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfic #x reader #rhi writes 💻

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