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#daredevil fluff
goldenlikedayl1ght · 8 hours
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the albatross - m. murdock
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a/n: hi everyone! so this is that weird and off putting reader i was mentioning earlier! she's not that weird but she's sort of odd so yeah. also i know bucky is the winter soldier but idk how else to tag this so oh well! i do have lore and stuff for readers time as a soldier so i'll include that in later installments! i was kind of in a writers block and this pushed me out of that. so enjoy! please please tell me what you thought and if you want more! warnings: cursing, mentions of death, war, torture, pain, people being dead, reader having horrible people skills and ptsd, mentions of sex maybe? uhmmm in general reader is just sort of strange and this is her and matt's early relationship, so sorry if i missed anything ! word count: 3.6k summary: you have spent the past ninety (give or take) years tortured and in pain. then, a handsome stranger comes into your life and changes everything. pairing: matt murdock x winter soldier!fem!reader now playing: the albatross - taylor swift "i'm the albatross/i swept in at the rescue/the devil that you know/looks now more like an angel/i'm the life you chose/and all this terrible danger"
You’re working a morning shift at the bakery when he comes in. The pastries in the case are laid out just so, and you have been meticulously working on this sign for your fall specials. You are determined to focus on something that is not how poorly you slept, your hair tied up in a braid behind you as you work.
You’re determined to get these pumpkin stems drawn correctly; a green marker clenched in your hand. Your knuckles are white with the tension you are holding in your fingers. It’s around eight in the god damn morning, and you have been awake since around three a.m.
You don’t even hear the bell ring, nor do you hear the click-clacking of a cane on the tiled floors, you only hear an awkward clearing of the throat, to which you spin around, about to throw the marker at the customer, but stopping when you realize what you’re doing.
The customer smiles awkwardly at you, and you recognize instantly that between his glasses and cane, he is most definitely blind. You almost feel silly, until you remember everything, and you wish that there was more moments where you think you’re silly for being paranoid.
And there’s something else, too. You look at this man for a few moments, before realizing that he is so god damn hot. Which, is weird, because you have not felt anything for any man or woman in years, too busy focusing on other things, too busy thinking about everything that’s happened. But god, the stubble tracing his face, the way his dark hair falls, and the way his hand wraps around his cane..
But what gets you really is his lips. Maybe you’re staring, maybe you don’t care. But his lips are this pretty pink, and you find yourself getting lost in the nicest daydream you’ve had in a very long time..
And then, you snap out of that fantasy to remind yourself that you are working and don’t even know his name.
“Hi, sorry,” You cough awkwardly, “Was just focused,” You tell him, approaching the counter. You wipe your sweaty hands on your apron, before putting on your best ‘I’m a friendly bakery worker who just wants to sell you pastries, also tip me please!’ smile on. “What can I get you?” You ask.
“Do you guys have apple turnovers?” It is the first time this fall that is under 65 degrees, so you understand that there is some cravings for autumn snacks.
“Yeah, yeah,” You move towards the case to get some, “Just the one?”
“Three, actually. For the office.” He hums.
“Some big office,” Your voice is a sarcastic mumble, not really for the an to hear but he chuckles at it, and you almost think it’s weird that he an hear you but your brain tells you not to judge, since there is a whole lot the handsome stranger could judge you for.
“We’re a small business. Very friendly, very personable.”
You cannot help yourself, and you find yourself asking, “What sort of business are you in?” What the handsome stranger does not know is that you are insatiably angry at yourself for asking that because you had pretty much promised yourself that you were never going to have any sort of relationship—it wouldn’t be fair to them, it wouldn’t be fair to you. And as previously established, that wasn’t a problem, because you weren’t really attracted to anyone before this handsome stranger waltzed on into the bakery.
“I’m a lawyer.” He smiles. A lawyer.
“Well, Mr. Lawyer, your total is 10.75.” He pulls out a twenty and when you hand him change, he asks, “Which one is the five?” and you wordlessly pull out the five from the stack you handed him, before he puts the rest of the change in his wallet, dropping a five and a small card into your tip jar. “You have a good day now.” He hums, before making his way out of the bakery.
You watch intently, maybe a little too intently, and you hear the voice of your best friend from your teenage years in your head saying, ‘You hate to see him go, but you love to watch him leave.’ And a small smile finds its way to your face.
Then, you notice the card he dropped in the jar before fishing it out. On the front, it reads,
‘Matthew M. Murdock, Attorney at Law.’ On the back, you read,
‘Nelson, Murdock & Page, Attorneys at Law,
Hell’s Kitchen’
Accompanied by this is a phone number and an address.
You pocket the card, and before you know it, costumers are flooding in, and you ease into the day, forgetting about the handsome stranger until you leave the bakery at around six o’clock that night. You finish cleaning up from the day before letting the woman who works to prep for the next day. Then you leave, heading home to the too quiet, too small apartment.
You don’t have much in your apartment. You sleep with a gun under your pillow and you have a cheap TV on your dresser. You spend most of your time catching up on books or movies. You make yourself box mac and cheese before eating it right out of the pot, sitting on your kitchen floor.
As you cook the mac and cheese, you say his name over and over again, letting it sit on your tongue and escape your lips, thinking about him intently. You glance at your watch and decide that maybe it’s early enough that he might still be at his office.
You fish your tiny flip phone out of your pocket, dialing the number on the card and waiting. You’re holding your breath as the phone rings. A thought runs through your brain that maybe he gave you a wrong number and then your brain immediately reminds you that no man is ever going to give you his card, printed out, just to fuck with you.
“Nelson, Murdock & Page, how can I help you?” A voice asks, and you blink, hesitating for a minute.
“Uh, I’m looking for Matthew.” You say, and there’s some light shuffling, and again, this regret shoots over you until you hear a very smooth, very familiar voice,
“Hey,” His voice is like honey and you long to hear it clearer—The first time you’ve desired a better phone. “I was hoping you’d call.”
“Yeah, well, Maybe I just like the sound of your voice.”
“You know usually, that’s my line.”
“Wait, that works on people?” You hear his laugh on the other side of the phone and a shiver runs down your spine as you itch to make him laugh more.
“Telling people they’re beautiful doesn’t hit the same when you’re blind.”
“I guess not..” There’s a silence on his end of the phone, before he says,
“I never got your name.” For a moment, you consider giving him a fake name, but you find yourself giving him your name, the one that your parents gave you all those years ago. It’s foreign on your lips, a rare gem that you do not often give out. He repeats it and you swear you could almost die right then and there. “What are you doing tonight?” 
You’re taken back by his forwardness, not anticipating that maybe this handsome stranger, Matthew, wants to be around you just as bad as you want to be around him. And then you look around at your dingy apartment, with your boxy TV, the gun under your pillow, and you, sitting on the floor of your kitchen, having just finished eating box mac and cheese with a wooden spoon that just for a second tastes like the one your mother used to cook with, the one you’d get tastes of sauces, soups, anything you could get your hands on.
And then you remember everything that happened after those days sneaking tastes of your mom’s cooking and you feel guilty for pursuing handsome Matthew, because he has no idea what he is getting into.
“Just finished dinner. Was planning on just relaxing.” Reading until around midnight and then getting an hour or two of sleep.
“Well, how about we go do something?” You detect a bit of hopefulness in his voice. You find yourself asking before you can stop yourself,
“Like, like a date?” And he laughs again.
“Yes, like a date.”
“I don’t know,” You start, “Usually I have to ask my father’s permission before I go out on the town with a boy.” You want to slap your hand over your mouth because you sound your age. Oh god.
“Really?”
“..No.” You hope he finds your weird, totally not a cover up, joke funny. And he laughs again, telling you,
“You’re funny.”
Yeah, really fucking hilarious.
“So, a date?”
“A date.” You consider this for a moment. A date might lead somewhere real. Somewhere dangerous. Somewhere you haven’t been in.. years. Years might be an understatement. Your heart thuds against your chest, and you find yourself full of that nostalgic thing you call desire.
“What would we do?”
“Anything you want.” He tells you.
“Anything? That’s dangerous.” Because this whole thing is dangerous, you want to tell him, maybe you should mention the whole age thing, the whole assassin thing, the whole brainwashing thing, the whole thing.
“Yeah? What dangerous things do you have in mind, doll?” You have to hold the phone away from your ear to breathe, because it feels like someone just took the winds out of your sails. Suddenly it is 1940 something and a boy is flirting with you, and you have to act like a lady in hopes that he will treat you right.
Odd thing to think about today, but you’re an odd person.
“What about ice cream and a bookstore?” You ask, and for a moment you want to hit yourself for not suggesting something cool like a club or something and then you realize that you have no idea what counts as a cool date in this day and age.
Did you know when you were a teenager and had the world at your fingertips, eighty (give or take) years ago?
But to your surprise, handsome Matthew just responds,
“That sounds nice. Do you want me to pick you up at your apartment?”
The idea of handsome Matthew being at your tiny apartment that is not suitable for a date makes your heart race.
“I’ll meet you at the ice cream place in an hour. You know the one near the bakery?”
“Yeah. See you then.”
“Yeah. See you.” And when you hang up, you realize just what has happened. For the first time since 1944, You have landed yourself a date with a handsome man that is genuinely interested in you and in your infinite wisdom decided that ice cream and books were the best way to impress him.. Books.. Blind man.
You lightly bang your head against the counter behind you, muttering to yourself how stupid that was. But you an only dwell on it for a moment before you are standing up and making your way over to your room to get ready.
You’re still in your work uniform. And you look like an idiot. So, you clean yourself up and pull on something presentable, something comfortable. There is no confusion as to the nature of this meet up, you two are going on a date and you asked a blind man to go to a bookstore. You feel like an asshole. And you’re aware that you’re putting emphasis on that, but still!
You go through outfits and outfits, trying to figure out what an appropriate outfit is for this first date. You end up in something casual, and you hope you’re not underdressed. Honestly, you know you’re making a fuss over something as standard as a date, but you are genuinely desperate to have this go well.
You finally decide on an outfit and make your way out the door, grabbing your jacket and stepping out of the apartment. You stop outside of your door before turning around and going back into your room to change your top.
But eventually, you do get to the ice cream place Matt and you had discussed on the phone. And there he is, in all his glory, wearing the same outfit he wore when you saw him in the bakery that morning, only, without his tie, and he looks more disheveled. Somehow it’s more charming to see him like this, more exhilarating to imagine a life with such a low stakes man (You’ll look back on this thought later and laugh)
“Hi,” You greet, and Matt smiles in your direction.
“Hi.” He hums, and again, you feel nervous! So, before he can say much else, you blurt out,
“So, This is my first date in a while.. So. Sorry about that.” You say awkwardly.
“A while?” He asks, tilting his head like a curious dog. You’re struck by the fact that he is around 70 years younger than you. “Like, a few months?”
A beat.
Handsome Matthew is much busier than you are, it seems.
“More like a couple of years.” And by ‘a couple’ you mean eighty some odd years, but Matt doesn’t need to know all of that right now. But he just hums and nods, before answering,
“That’s alright, I’ll be gentle.” Your face flushes, and with a nervous laugh, you ask,
“You mean we’ll take it slow?”
“Sure. Whatever. We’ll figure out the details of it all later.” His hand finds yours, and before you can protest he pulls you into the ice cream shop. Handsome Matthew orders chocolate chip cookie dough because he is perfect in every way, and you order..
“Butter pecan, please.” You get odd glances from Matthew and the seventeen year old minimum wage worker behind the counter, but neither of them say anything. You manage to beat Matthew to paying for the ice cream, and as you walk, he asks,
“Butter pecan? Really?” And you roll your eyes. Young people today, always judging.
“You’re lucky they didn’t have butterscotch, that’s my real favorite.” You respond, before taking a lick of the ice cream. Your handsome date, gives you another bizarre look.
“Okay, what’s your third favorite ice cream flavor?”
“Mm..” You take a few minutes to think about it, before deciding on your answer. “A tie between pistachio and coffee.” And at your answer, Matt laughs at you. You let out an offended gasp, although you’re not being serious, before asking, “what’s so horrible about that?”
“You have the ice cream preferences of an eighty year old,” He laughs and you laugh too, because oh, if only he knew.
“Sorry, my pallet is straight from the 40’s.” It’s a joke. That’s a joke. Not at all based in facts or actuality. You continue working through eating your ice cream and talking to your handsome date. “So, does the handsome lawyer have any family I should know about?”
“You think I’m handsome?” He grins, and your face flushes.
“Answer the question.”
“No siblings. My dad died when I was young and It’s only recently that I’ve been talking to my mother.” Interesting, you think, and then this dawning realization happens where you realize that the next thing out of his mouth will be the inevitable question, “How about your family?”
You consider lying but you decide against it. If this is going to lead anywhere good, you don’t want to base it off lies.
“Not much to say. I’m the sole survivor.” You shrug, keeping it vague. He frowns a bit before squeezing your hand.
“A couple of orphans, huh?”
You squeeze his back.
“Seems like it.”
You kind of aren’t over the death of your parents and your siblings and quite literally everyone you knew as a teenager and young adult—You’re not over so many fucking things that if you went through it all, you’d probably keep poor Handsome Matthew up all night.
But instead of talking about that, Matt finds himself walking with you to the bookstore. You hold the door open for him and begin to wander. You quickly move past the books on World War II, as if faced with an ex you want nothing to do with them.
You begin to look at the romance books, scrunching your nose at how cheesy and surface level so many of these young adult novels are. But then you remind yourself that you are a hundred years old. But you look like you’re in your late twenties, early thirties. As you’re looking at the books, Matthew makes his way to the aisle next to yours, and talks to you through the stacks.
“So, what’s your favorite book?”
“That’s like asking a mother her favorite child.” You answer quickly, and you hear him laugh. Your face flushes.
“Try for me.”
“Uh, I really love Great Gatsby. I’m kind of fascinated with the zombie genre, too, it’s sort of new and interesting, and uh, oh, I read this Neil Gaiman novel, uh, Stardust? I really liked that.” You confess. Matt listens as you fumble through novels, both of you making your way towards the end of the aisle.
“And movies?”
“Why is everything about me? I didn’t hear your favorite novel.”
“The Outsiders.” He responds, and you make a mental note to try and find it in the bookstore. “So, movies?”
You’ve had autonomy for around three years now, so.. Your movie knowledge has been kind of stunted, so you wrack your brain to try and come up with something impressive.
“I really like the Indiana Jones series, uh, oh, The Matrix, and..” You ponder your brain. “Oh! And King Kong!” You saw that one in the theatres for your thirteenth birthday.
“Like, the one that came out in 2017?” He asks, and again, you consider lying, because you actually have seen that one because when you looked up ‘King Kong’ it came out, and it really blew your mind how far CGI had come.
“No, the one that came out in ’33.” As if it is the most normal thing in the entire world.
“One of your favorite movies is one from 1933?” And the old woman in you wants to insist that you loved the decades you grew up in, and that seeing King Kong in the theatres was a marvelous thing because you could barely afford rent. And then you remember you shouldn’t reveal your history with the Great Depression to a man you’re on your first date with.
“Yup.” You assert, and ask, “You?”
“Star Wars, any of them, and the Princess Bride.” Again, you make a note to add it to your list.
“Interesting.” You hum, and you find The Outsiders, wanting to read it, to consume it, to consume him, and every thought he has. The two of you meet at the end of the aisle, too close to be platonic as his hands come to find your arms, and you shudder at the affection.
“Touch starved, huh?” He grins. You flush and roll your eyes.
“You’re so mean.” You huff, and he laughs. His hand moves up your arms and cups your jaw, enjoying the feeling of your warm cheeks.
“Well, you’re odd.”
“Odd?”
“Everything about you. Your movie tastes, your jokes, your ice cream flavors.” He hums, with a soft shrug. “It’s not a bad thing, I’m just.. Trying to figure you out.”
“You’d be the first to accomplish such a feat.”
He laughs at that, and he’s so beautiful.. That you cannot help yourself when you lean up and gently press a soft kiss to those beautiful pretty pink lips that had caught your attention that morning. He kisses you back, without hesitation.
You feel at peace for the first time in years, as if everything you had gone through, every moment of torture and pain, has been worth it because it leads you to this. To Handsome Matthew, who kisses you so tenderly that no matter how simple it is, you are left breathless and desperate for more. You lean into him, deepening the kiss, pushing him back a bit, his back pressed against the stacks. The book in your hands is crumpled, and eventually, Matthew pulls away, before pushing you back a bit.
“Easy,” He says breathlessly, and you need the reminder, because you try to catch your breath. Holy shit. “Easy, easy..” he repeats, his hands rubbing up and down your arms a bit. “I’ve got you, just breath.” He laughs, and you lean your forehead against your shoulder. Fuck.
“When can I see you again?” Is your only thought, and he chuckles gently.
“Whenever you want.” He promises, and you nod, before leaning up to kiss him again.
One day you’ll tell him everything. You’ll tell him all of the horrible things you’ve done and have had done to you, and you’ll tell him why the nightmares came, and why they won’t ever go away. One day, you’ll tell handsome Matthew why you sleep with a gun under your pillow and why you have no family and why you are so odd.
For now, you decide that you deserve a few nice things.
And when he kisses back, you realize that maybe he is just as infatuated with you as you are with him. Maybe. Maybe he is full of secrets and his own horrors that plague him while he sleeps, and maybe that’s the unspoken reason you are so deeply fascinated with one another.
Maybe.
Maybe you’ve spent the past ninety years going from fight to fight, to nightmare to nightmare. Maybe you’re owed some time in the sun with Handsome Matthew.
Maybe.
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peterman-spideyparker · 4 months
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Labels (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Hi! So, I've kinda put myself on a writing hiatus for a while and, in turn, have limited my time on Tumblr as of late. I was/still kind of am feeling uninspired in terms of writing and ideas, but this one came easily, and it needed to be written and shared before the excitement left me. I still have a million other stories and ideas I want to get going on, but for now, I hope you enjoy this one. :)
Summary: One evening when Matt tries to surprise you with a home cooked dinner date, he's stunned by something you've done for him.
Warnings: Sweet adorable fluff. No use of (Y/N), but it does refer to the reader being feminine/female-identifying
Other Characters: Karen Page
Word Count: 1,158
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“Hello?” you say over the phone, very clearly distracted by whatever is in front of you.
“Hi, angel,” Matt smiles, feeling a weight off of his shoulders when he finally hears your voice when you pick up your desk phone.
“Matt.” The way you say his name lights him up inside. It’s alway so warm, so inviting, so smooth—like when butter spreads perfectly even on a piece of toast. The gentleness of each consonant and vowel that escapes your lips never fails to chip away and brush off the stress of whatever is weighing him down; from his day job to his nightly activities, you—every last bit of you, is his solace.
“I was half afraid that I’d get your answering machine,” he breathes as he leans back in his chair, listening to how you move the receiver from one ear to the other.
“I’m sorry, Matt. Today has just been hectic. Meetings, email approvals, we rearranged some furniture because no one was responding to emails—.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize.”
“I do if it means I worried you. I mean, I must have missed calls and texts on my cell from you if you resorted to my landline.”
“No, not worried. I was just curious if you wanted to go out to dinner tonight. Maybe try that new Italian place that opened up a few blocks from your apartment.”
“I didn’t know there was a new restaurant opening.”
“Yeah,” he lies. “It’s a small place. Intimate, nice.”
“Well, I don’t know how I could say no to that. It sounds like the perfect thing to make me forget today.”
“Take deep breaths, sweetheart. You’ll get through it. I’m here for you.”
“I know,” you breathe. “Listen, I need to get back to work, but I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
“Perfect. I love you, Matt.”
“Love you, too.”
You exchange soft goodbyes before hanging up the phone, Matt sliding his cell back into the pocket of his slacks.
“Hey, Karen?” he calls out.
“Yeah?” she responds, sounding as if she’s lost in thought with whatever is at hand.
“What time is it?”
She pauses. “Almost 2:30.”
“You think that you and Foggy will be okay for the rest of the day?”
“I think so.”
“Great,” he says with a smile, standing up and putting on the suit jacket that was hanging on the back of his chair. “I’m heading out. I need to get some groceries to surprise my girlfriend.”
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Matt undoes the last of your door’s locks as the bag of groceries rests on his hips, relieved when the heavy piece of wood starts to swing open. For as frustrating as your day was, Matt secretly hopes that you won’t come home early and catch him in the middle of his surprise; it took him a lot longer to get everything he needed at the store, throwing off his timing. He’d be lucky if he got everything plated by the time you got home. Matt lets out a deep breath as he places the bag of groceries on the counter and takes his glasses off, centering himself to focus on the plan and not let his race against the clock shake him too much. After hanging his jacket on the hooks by the door, he rolls up his sleeves and throws his tie over his shoulder before taking out his phone, tapping at the screen until he finds the recipe he saved for tonight.
As his phone reads off the list of ingredients, he feels over what he grabbed, cursing when he notices that he’s missing garlic powder.
“She has to have some,” he hums. He knows you like to cook, always eager to try new recipes that you find while scrolling on your phone, and therefore always getting new spices and ingredients to make sure your kitchen is stocked for whatever the next interesting dish brings. Lucky for Matt, you two are always over each other’s place, craving one another’s presence, so he knows your apartment almost as well as he knows his own. Turning around to the skinny cabinet where Matt knows you keep your spices, he opens it up and prepares his nose for the strong mix of smells that are about to hit him so he can sniff out what he needs. As his hand extends into the cabinet, what he doesn’t expect to find is small bumps over each and every label. It’s odd, but familiar. Grabbing one of the spices in the front, he carefully takes it off the shelf and runs his fingers over the bumps once more.
Nutmeg.
Matt lets out a shaky breath, tears stinging at his eyes. He reaches up for container after container, running his fingers over all of the labels, finding that he’s able to read them all. By the time Matt grabs the garlic powder, the cabinet is practically empty and he’s crying in the kitchen.
“Matt?” he hears you call tentatively. He didn’t even hear you come in, and now you’re at his side, wrapping him in a hug and holding him close to soothe him. God, he loves when you hold him. Call it being touch-starved, but nothing felt better to Matt than when you have your arms around him. Sure, being in your apartment is comforting—your smell surrounding him and engulfing his senses, but nothing was better than the actual thing, your body against his, skin to skin. “Matty, is everything okay?”
“Uh, yeah,” he sniffles, holding you close and kissing your forehead. “It’s just, uh, well this.”
You pull back slightly from his hug and wipe away some of his tears before peeking down to see what’s in his hands.
“Garlic powder?” you try. “Is it bad?”
“No, no,” he smiles, wiping away some stray tears with the heel of his hand. “It’s great.”
“I thought we were going out to dinner tonight. But with all my spices out, something tells me you might have fibbed.”
“I did fib. I wanted to surprise you with dinner, especially after hearing about your day, but you’re the one that surprised me.” Taking your hand, he gently guides your fingers over the label to where the braille is.
“Oh.” Matt listens to how the blood rushes to your cheeks and how your heart rate picks up. “The label.”
“The label,” he echos softly.
“I finally found a good braille label maker that I liked,” you begin to explain. “I mean, we’re always at each other’s place. I wanted to make my home feel a little more homey for you.”
“You really love me, huh?”
He listens to how you smile from ear to ear. “So much more than you’ll ever know, Matty.”
Putting the garlic powder down, he takes your face in his hands and pulls you in for a deep kiss, your arms happily snaking around him and holding him close.
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Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​
Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters
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petertingle-yipyip · 21 days
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DONT BE A FOOL - MATT MURDOCK
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Pairing: matt x wife!reader
Word Count: 2, 156
Summary: After a very tense argument about a misused name, your apologetic husband ends up getting looped in by your students.
//follow-up to three empty words but can probably be read on its own//
The next morning, you refused to dilly dally your morning routine. Your shower was quick, your hair and makeup remained simple. Even your outfit was more or less the first thing you grabbed from your closet. You gathered all of your papers - which you hadn’t gotten around to grading the night before - and your laptop before Matt’s alarm had even gone off.
You skipped making breakfast, deciding to stop at a coffee shop on the way to work instead, and hustled out the door. You ignored the still sleeping figure of Elektra on your couch even though your brain wanted to soak her with cold water and kick her out. You did slam the door on your way out but that was just to satisfy your own anger.
You walked into your classroom and let out a loud sigh as you dropped into your deskchair. You were thankful to be out of the house, in your own space for the time being. As you began grading the papers and piling them according to the hours, your mind wandered back to the night before. You wondered if Elektra would be out of your apartment when you got back. You wondered if Matt would tell Foggy and Karen that you two got into a fight last night. You then found yourself wondering if Matt was actually going to go to work that morning.
You realized you were staring blankly at the student’s worksheet in front of you so you shook the thoughts and focused on the daunting stacks before you.
Most of the hours were business as usual. Your normal rowdy students were a bit extra, but that might’ve been due to your already grated nerves more than their own behaviors. It wasn’t until the hour before lunch that you found some of your students more huddled and secretive than usual.
“What are you doing in the corner?” You called, peaking over your computer at the small group. “There’s, what, five minutes till the bell?”
“Mrs. Murdock, what’s your husband’s name?” One of the girls, Liv, asked with an innocent expression. The same one she gave you when she explained her lacking assignments.
“Matthew.” You titled down your screen to see them better. “Why?”
“What does he do again?”
“Lawyer. Why?”
“Is he handsome?” Another girl, Nicole, asked with wiggling eyebrows.
You had to refrain from rolling your eyes at your middle schoolers.
“Yes, very.” You smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t have married him if he wasn’t.”
“And if he’s a lawyer, he’s gotta be smart, right?”
“Again, very. He went to Columbia.”
“So like… Is he why you’re so sad today?” Blake, the only boy in the group, chimed in with a nonchalant shrug.
“Guys.” You frowned slightly. “I’m not sure what you’re doing, but I’m not sad. Me and Mr. Murdock are fine. We’re happily married. And you should be worried about your own relationship drama, not mine.”
“So you admit there’s drama?” Nicole countered quickly.
“Between Blake and Emmy? Yes.” You nodded and Emmy’s jaw dropped while her friends poked her teasingly. “Between me and Mr. Murdock, no.”
“Mhmm.. So why is the photo face down?”
“What?”
“The photo by your computer.” She came across the room and lifted the frame near your laptop that was in fact, face down. “You told us on the first day that this was one your favorite photos and you have it on it’s face… There’s drama, Mrs. Murdock.”
“You’re very observant, Nicole. Thank you.” You said flatly as you took the frame from her hands and set it in it’s rightful position. “I must’ve knocked it over when I was trying to find you and Liv’s missing portfolio project.” “You can’t deflect, Mrs. M.” Liv added from across the room. “It’s all over your face.”
“Y’know what.” You announced, standing from your desk. “The bell rings in less than two minutes. You guys can all go to lunch early.”
A chorus of questions arose while you heard the door being pushed open.
“They can’t write you all up.” You shrugged and dropped back in your chair while the meddling group made their way into the hall.
The girls continued to whisper to themselves and glanced back at you, to which you shooed them away. When you were finally alone in your classroom, you let out a heavy sigh and rubbed a hand over your eyes.
Usually, you adored having open communication with your students because that meant they trusted you. But at the same time, that meant they felt entitled to know your life story whether you like it or not. The bell echoed in your ears so you spun your chair to the small fridge under your desk that held your lunch.
You clicked play on a playlist from your laptop and began eating your lunch, typing away to enter in grades. You knew you should just do nothing, scroll mindlessly on your social medias instead or maybe even call Foggy to ensure Matt made it to work, but the busy work for your eyes, head, and hands felt better. Plus, you weren’t exactly sure what you would’ve said that could’ve gotten your question answered without being a dead giveaway. So you kept working instead.
“MRS. MURDOCK!” Liv nearly yelled as she burst through your door, maybe halfway through the lunch hour. “OHMYGODYOULLNEVERBELIEVE-”
“Liv!” You said in shock, nearly dropping your water bottle. “What is going on? Is everything okay?”
“Look at this!” She hurried across and showed you her phone screen. Oddly enough, it was a photo of the back of a man exiting a taxi. What stood out to you was the white cane in his hand.
“It’s a guy getting out a cab.” You tried to reason, gently pushing her phone away. “That’s what you ran in here to tell me?”
“But he’s blind!”
“So it seems.”
“Don’t you know what this means?” She insisted with a small stomp.
You simply shrugged and raised your brows.
“It’s Mr. Murdock! He came to apologize!”
“Liv, I appreciate your concern for my marriage but we’re fine, okay? It’s not like he and I are heading towards a divorce. We’re just in a bit of an argument. It’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? Because I’ve never seen you so…” She gestured vaguely to you.
“Yes, I’m sure. Now go back to your lunch, please. I have to finish these.”
“But-”
“No.”
“Mrs. M, just-”
“Liv, boundaries, please.”
“Just listen!”
“No.” You said firmly. “Go back to your lunch.”
She huffed slightly but retreated to the door. As she was heading out, she nearly ran into one of the monitors.
“Sorry to intrude, Y/N.” The monitor said as she popped her head in. “I have a visitor for you.”
“Another one of my kids being a problem?” You sighed and wheeled yourself a bit further from your desk. “Send ‘em in. They can sit in the corner till next class.”
“Actually, I think you’ll be glad to see this one.” She smiled knowingly and reached for something outside the doorframe.
Before you could voice another question, she ushered Matt through the door. He said his usual thanks for being guided and the monitor gave you an approving nod and thumbs up. She mouthed a very not subtle ‘He’s very handsome’. You smiled awkwardly in agreement but once the door closed, you rolled your eyes and went back to your gradebook.
“Could’ve called.” You said simply.
“I didn’t think you would answer.” Matt replied honestly.
“Probably wouldn’t have… Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“I couldn’t focus.”
You heard the clicks of him folding his cane as he wandered around your classroom. You peaked up to watch him manueaver the desks with such ease that for a split second, you forgot he was blind. You watched him run his fingers along the bulletin board you had on one wall, leading into the standards and other required signage you had up.
“Did she leave?” You asked and returned to your prior task. You knew if you watched him for too long, he’d know and he’d show you that stupid lopsided smirk that he did.
“She was still pretty weak when I left.” He said and there was a slight sadness in his voice. Though if someone asked if it was for Elektra or your argument, you wouldn’t have been able to say. “But I did ask Stick to find somewhere else to take her to recover if she can’t leave on her own by the time someone gets home.”
“Chivalrous.” You made a face behind your computer screen. “You didn’t have to come all the way here to tell me that.”
He sighed slightly and you mumbled a short complaint to yourself before scooting away from your desk and spinning in your chair to face him, just as he appeared at your side. You folded your hands over your stomach and leaned back in your chair, giving an exaggerated sigh and nod for him to talk.
“Y/N, last night, I said something I shouldn’t have.” He began carefully, as if he was following a carefully rehearsed speech. For all you knew, he had rehearsed it with Foggy that morning before he showed up. “I let Stick push me and I just said the first thing that came to mind.”
“But she shouldn’t be the first thing, right?” You said softly with a small shrug. “Stick shouldn’t be able to push you into saying that, whether you meant it or not.”
“You’re right.” He admitted and your brows went up slightly. “I shouldn’t have said that. You are the only woman that I want to be with. I married you, without any hesitation. I never had second thoughts or second thoughts or anything. You, Y/N Murdock, have my heart.”
You nodded slowly but said nothing as you stood. You crossed your arms and looked up at him, him offering a hopeful expression in return. You broke into a small smile and nudged him with your shoulder before moving past him. He followed you almost instantly and you took him to the wall on the other side of your desk near the window.
“The kids started calling this the Sweetheart’s Spotlight.” You said quietly with a small smile. “They keep a polaroid camera in one of the cubbies and every Friday, they rearrange the couples in order of their favorites… They made me put a photo of us on here, too.”
“Where do we rank?” He smiled slightly.
“We’ve been number one since it started.” You laughed. “They tell me that you’re the best by default since I’m their favorite teacher.”
“Lucky me.”
“You know I’m still upset, right?” You said carefully when the air was too light between you two.
“I know.” He nodded. “I can hear it in your voice.”
“But I also don’t want to hold onto this fight. So here’s an idea. Elektra’s out of the apartment today. You two finish whatever crusade you’re on. You make sure you don’t get yourself killed. She leaves New York and it’s all put to bed.”
“Consider it done.” He nodded. “And I know better than to get myself killed. I’ve got it too good to die.”
“Yeah because then I’m a widow and there’s not much life insurance to cash in on.” You joked as the lunch bell rang.
“I should get going.” He nodded before gently taking your hand. “I love you. So much.”
“I love you too.” You said softly as your students started filing in.
“OHMYGOD.” One of your students yelled and you closed your eyes tightly, quietly groaning in embarrassment. “IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?”
“Yes, Luna.” You said, feeling the blush across your cheeks. “This is Mr. Murdock and he’s leaving.”
You pulled Matt towards the door as he laughed. Your kids yelled questions that you tried to ignore until Matt stopped, pulling you to stop with him.
“It’s career week!” One of the boys yelled. More so a demand.
“I’m aware, Jack.” You nodded. “What does that have to do with this?”
“He’s not here to talk to us about lawyers?” The boy’s head cocked as he asked his question.
“That’s exactly why I’m here.” Matt grinned and you groaned again. “Let’s give Mrs. Murdock a break, right?”
“You’re so dead.” You threatened quietly with a laugh before heading back to your chair. 
“Okay, kids.” You announced. “He’s blind and can’t write. I’m not getting up. Take your own notes and keep your questions relevant to his career, okay?”
“Yes, Mrs. Murdock.” They all answered.
“All yours, Mr. Murdock.” You gestured before returning to grading and the personal questions started flying.
“How did you guys meet?!”
“What’s her favorite color?!”
“Did you see the wall?!” “He can’t see!”
“Are they always this rowdy?” He asked you with a slight laugh.
“You’re new and exciting.” You shrugged. “Take it as a compliment.”
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devils-dares · 1 year
Text
Steal My Warmth
summary: matt lets you use him as a pillow.
pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader
warnings: none! fluffy fluff here
wordcount: 379
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The way Matt loved you was devastating. He ached when you weren’t near, and when you were he found his fingers were always reaching for you to come a little closer. His hands always found themselves wrapped around your midsection, the extra skin letting him steal an abundance of warmth and softness from you.
When you’d asked him if you could slip under the blanket with him on the couch, he told you you didn’t have to ask as he peeled away the thick fluffy cover.
“C’mere.” You try to slot yourself between him and the couch but he pulls you to lay on him directly, your head sinking into his chest as he tucks you in.
“Cozy?” You nodded, feeling his fingers caress your skin, his touch sliding lower and lower after starting at your waist.
“Watch the hands.” He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He clicks resume on his podcast as you get comfy on his chest and scroll through your phone. Quiet domesticity takes over the apartment, your even breath mirrors his as the two of you soak in each other's presence.
“It should be a crime to be this soft and warm with that much muscle.” You say, poking his abs. He chuckles, pulling your body closer to his.
“Feel free to come steal some warmth more often.” You nuzzle further and he gasps at the feeling of your cold nose pressing against his bare chest. Your eyelids grow heavy and you glance up to Matt, who was listening to his podcast. He looked at peace, his fingers still moving, albeit slowly, across your skin while your head moved up and down gently from his breaths. You smile, your eyes shutting more and more as you finally succumb to sleep with comfort personified who is Matt Murdock.
His attention is drawn to you only when your phone lands face down on his skin, the glass screen chilling his body. He brings his hand up to thread through your hair, dull nails gently scratching at your scalp. With his other hand he pauses his podcast and drops his headphones to the ground quietly. He moves your phone away and pulls the blanket up a bit higher to cover your body.
“Sweet dreams, my love.”
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skeletonsslut · 2 years
Text
whoever said “she hulk’s gonna try and ruin daredevil’s stoic personality” clearly misread him
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4K notes · View notes
devilfic · 1 month
Note
More matt content?
I was thinking, Matt’s reaction towards reader wearing something real cute (like a beautiful red dress) or anything idk-
My mind is plastered with this man, god-
pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader. cw: fluff, established relationship, suggestive content. words: 334.
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Matt pinches fabric—satin, he’s certain, silk satin—unable to hide the smile creeping up on him. He can feel where the sleeve ends and your skin begins, his fingers sneaking along the hem to paint the picture, “Did I buy this?”
You laugh and the fabric of your sleeve slips from between his fingers, “Yeah. You like it?”
It helps that you trust him, even more that you’ve been lovers for months, because when his hand passes over your chest to feel for the neckline, his ears burn. His fingers travel over the peaks and valleys and wonder of what is left in their wake. Telling by the hitch in your breath, you must feel the same.
“What color is it?”
“Crimson.”
“So we’ll match.” Matt is stroking down your front now, feeling for the length.
“Of course. What kind of partner would I be if I let you embarrass yourself in public like that?”
His head tilts to the side. He laughs once, wetting his lips to spite the urge to kiss your arrogant mouth, “Oh, sure. If anyone’s to blame for the poor color coordination, it’s me.” He feels you shrug as his hand travels back up to settle on the back of your neck. He takes the opportunity to pull you in for a kiss anyway, “I love it. You’re stunning.”
"You're not so bad yourself, Murdock," you trace his chin with your thumb, "glad you like it, though. You weren’t a fan of that velvet number from our last date night.”
“Yeah, no, this is much better… although,” his fingers slip around your waist and feel up your back, pausing with his hand at the middle of your spine, “I don’t imagine you’ll be wearing it long.”
“No ripping,” you nip his nose and his nostrils flare at a distant, heated memory, “replacing this will be expensive.“
Being cheeky, Matt tugs you into him without warning and you grab at his lapel to steady yourself, “What can I rip?”
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taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes
239 notes · View notes
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Grinning Like a Devil
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Matt Murdock x Reader
Words: 3539
Summary: Matt and the reader tease each other relentlessly at work. What happens when they discover that it’s more than just harmless flirting? One night of one too many drinks may prove just that. 
Notes: Some of my favorite Matt edits are to the song ‘Cruel Summer’ by Taylor Swift, and while I didn’t totally want to do another song based imagine for it (I have a different one for him in the works), I really love this cute little line for him. Plus I really need to write more fluff for him because everything is so angsty. This is, as so much of my fluff, a total mess, so I hope you guys enjoy. 
More Matt imagines: HERE
-
“And that’s three for me and… oh yeah, none for you,” you smirked, leaning on your pool stick. 
“Isn’t there some kind of rule about making fun of the blind guy?” Matt chuckled. 
“Matty, we both know you could have kicked my ass hours ago.” You shook your head and stepped towards him. “Stop toying with me and play.” 
Matt leaned towards you. 
For a second, you were afraid he could hear your heart racing in your chest, the butterflies in your stomach resuming their painful, wild dance. You faked a cocky laugh, letting him know you weren’t backing down. 
A grin formed on his lips. “Okay.” 
The next break landed three stripes. His next series of shots landed two more. You were right about one thing- he was perfectly capable of kicking your ass. The end of the game yielded only one shot for you while he swept the table. Hell, looked so bad for you, that you were half tempted to cheat and point him at the wrong ball. Somehow you felt he would know. 
Matt put up his pool stick and took yours with a smile. You tried to keep your jaw from dropping. 
He chuckled. “You asked for it.” 
You snapped out of your awestruck state and laughed. “Remind me to keep my mouth shut next time.” 
He paused and his smile shifted into a smirk. “Next time?” 
“Oh, that was just round one, Murdock. One of these days, I will beat you fair and square. Without you going easy on me.” 
He held out a hand. 
You took it. 
“Challenge accepted.” 
The touch sent a pleasant shock up your arm. His finger traced along the back of your hand as he pulled away, grazing your knuckles. Your breathing hitched and another smirk spread across his face. 
Bastard. 
“I’m going to get another drink,” he said. “Do you want anything else?” 
You cleared your throat to stop from squeaking. “Surprise me.” 
He nodded and headed back to the bar. You had to lean against the pool table to stop your knees from shaking. This was stupid. You saw Matt every day. 
But the way he smiled at you…
“Here.” Matt handed you a tall glass of a dark liquid.  
“What the hell is that?” You laughed through your grimace, holding the drink up to the light. It was clouded and hardly allowed any of the neon to shine through. 
Matt shrugged. “A surprise.” 
“You’re terrible.” 
“Oh, but you love me,” he teased. 
“Whatever.” You took a drink and immediately regretted it. The burning liquid traveled down your throat like black tar and despite how hard you tried, you couldn’t hold back the coughs. 
Matt laughed and sipped his perfectly normal beer. 
“Shut… up…” you sputtered. 
He kept laughing. It sent a surge of idiotic courage through your chest. 
You tapped the bottom of the glass against the pool table, took a deep breath, and gulped down the rest of the foul drink without breaking. You swallowed back the disgusted coughs and touched the empty glass to his chest. 
“Is that-” You winced at the taste still lingering in your mouth. “The best you’ve got, Murdock?” 
Matt chuckled and shook his head, setting the glass aside. You take a step forward on wobbly legs and stumble. His arms shot out to catch you and held you up against his chest. 
You both froze, dizzy from more than just the alcohol. 
“Maybe that’s enough for tonight,” he breathed. 
Having you this close, he didn’t need his hearing to know your heart started to race. And he knew, with your hands pressed against his chest, you could feel his too. 
“That’s probably a good idea,” you agreed, finding your footing again. 
The break of contact left a hollowness in his chest. His hand found your arm, both to steady you and to fill the space the lack of your touch had created. 
You closed your tabs and he insisted on paying, despite your protests. 
“After that toxic waste you downed, it's the least I can do,” he said. 
“Celebrating anything specific?” Josie wondered. Her eyes shifted curiously between the two of you and she gave you a smirk. 
Your face reddened. 
“We won a pretty major case today,” Matt explained with a smile. “The big bad land developers were defeated all thanks to Y/N’s investigating skills.” 
“Are you kidding?” You scoffed. “You and Foggy did all of the real work in that courtroom.” 
“Work we couldn’t have done without you.” He squeezed your hand. “Give yourself some credit. Without you, we’re just a couple of guys in suits and no case.” 
“Hey, don’t sell Foggy short,” you snorted. “He does all the real lawyering while you  stand there and look pretty.” 
A sly smirk spread across Matt’s face. “Pretty, huh?” 
“Goodnight, Josie,” you said, trying to hurry away, but Matt’s hold on your arm remained. Standing this close, his laugh vibrated through you. 
You walked out together into the chilly February evening. The brisk air bit at your bare arms, having forgotten your jacket in the office. You tried not to shiver. 
“Here,” Matt said. He slipped off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. 
“Thanks.” 
You tried not to think about how the fabric smelled like him- like cedarwood and leather. 
Matt kept his hold on your arm, less to guide himself and more to keep you from tripping on something. The heat of his fingers on your skin radiated throughout your body. You tried to keep your breathing normal, but it was like the air was getting thin. That last drink really was a bad idea. 
By the time you reached the door of your apartment, you were sure your flesh was burning up. You desperately dug through your purse, feeling the dread build up more and more as you searched. 
“Shit,” you muttered. 
“Everything okay?” Matt asked, brows furrowed in a way that was far too adorable for you to handle at the moment. 
“I, um,” you gulped. “I can’t find my keys. I must have left them at the office. Damnit.” You smacked your hand against the door, hitting it a little harder than you meant to and wincing.
Matt took your hand in both of his, holding you steady. “Hey, it’s okay.” 
“No it isn’t. You walked me all the way here and now I can’t get in and it’s too late to try to call me landlord and-” Your intoxicated brain spiraled into all of the things you’d done wrong that evening that led you to this moment. 
Getting drunk with the man you were in love with being numero uno. 
You started to hyperventilate. 
Matt put your hand against his chest so you could feel the slow and steady rhythm of his heart as he breathed. He took a deep breath, indicating for you to do the same. 
“Sweetheart, it’s okay, just calm down,” he said softly. “Can you do that?” 
You closed your eyes, took a few breaths, and nodded. 
“Sorry,” you said, sheepishly dodging his gaze. “Sometimes drunk-brain turns into anxiety-panic-brain and I have moments like that.” 
“You don’t have to apologize,” he smiled. Matt let go of your hand but kept hold of your arm. “Why don’t we just go to my place? It’s just a few blocks away. We can pick up your keys tomorrow.” 
Your heart leaped into your throat. 
“Like… spend the night?”
Matt gave you that famous smile. “I’m flattered, Y/N, but I’m afraid you would be taking advantage of me,” he teased. 
You shoved him playfully. “Shut up.” 
-
It wasn’t like you hadn’t been to Matt’s apartment before, but this felt different. Maybe it was that horrible, horrible drink still making your brain a little fuzzy, but the neon lights of the billboard outside lit everything in a beautiful, color-changing glow. 
The two of you sat on Matt’s couch and talked for what felt like hours. About nothing, about everything, about you, about him. 
“So I go every year now to commemorate the occasion,” you said confidently
“You have an anniversary for falling off of a swan boat in Central Park?” He snickered. 
“It was a formative moment in my childhood!” 
Matt held up his hands. “Okay, fair enough.” 
“When’s the last time you just took a walk?” You asked, leaning a little closer. “You know, stopped and smelled the roses? In all the time I’ve known you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you slow down.” 
Matt swallowed and didn’t answer. You had a point. 
“You have to let yourself live, Matt. You can’t go around trying to save everyone.” You leaned closer, eyes falling to his lips. 
Matt drew in, unable to stop himself. How long had he thought about this? How long had he thought about telling you? When he thought about slowing down, he wanted to do it with you. You made him want to want to have a life. 
He pulled away. 
“I think you should probably get some sleep.”
You jerked back. 
“Right,” you said. “Thanks.”
What the hell had you been thinking? 
“I’ll sleep out here,” Matt said. He stood up and went to a cupboard in the hall. 
“Matt, you are not giving up your bed because I forgot my keys.”
“Too late, I already grabbed clean sheets.” 
“Matthew-”
“Y/N, really, it’s fine.” He said and from his tone, you knew there was no winning. Besides, you were embarrassed enough. Did you really just try to kiss him? You didn’t even feel drunk anymore, which you didn’t know if that made it better or worse. 
You hurried into Matt’s room and tried not to think about the fact that you were sleeping in his bed, under his covers, blanketing you in his scent. 
This whole night was starting to feel like a mistake. 
Matt listened to your heartbeat and felt the heat rushing to your face, kicking himself for making you feel like you’d done something wrong. He’d have to talk to you in the morning, when you were both sober, so you could have no doubt that what he wanted to say was true. 
You both went to sleep with butterflies in your stomach and thoughts of each other in your dreams. 
-
You woke up to a killer headache and the smell of coffee. You felt the sheets around you. Silk. Definitely not yours. 
The memory of the night before started to come back to you. 
Oh. God. 
You were at Matt’s apartment. 
You slept in his bed. 
You tried to kiss him. 
And he was outside the sliding door, right now. 
The floor was cool against your bare feet, your legs shaking as you tried to walk silently to the door. You slid it open just a crack. Just to see where he was. 
Matt was walking around the kitchen, most of his frame hidden by the open fridge door. 
You stepped out of his bedroom. If you could just sneak to the door…
“Morning,” he greeted cheerily, closing the fridge door and giving you a bright smile. “I made you some coffee.” Matt held up a steaming mug with a slight chuckle. “I thought you might need it.” 
You winced. “Right. Thanks.” 
Matt could feel your skin getting warmer, as well as the churning of nausea going through your head. 
“How are you feeling?” 
“Super.” 
Matt grimaced. “Yeah, I felt the same when I woke up. Hence, coffee.” He took a drink from his own mug. 
There was a long, unbroken, and horrifically awkward silence between you. Why couldn’t you have one of those hangovers that obliterate any memory from the night before? Why couldn’t you get the image of him pulling away from you out of your head? Why did you have to try to kiss him? Why did you have to ruin everything?
“I should go.” 
Matt blew out a low sigh. “I’ll walk you home.” He moved to stand, but you put a hand on his arm to stop him. 
“I think I should go by myself,” you said quickly. If you stayed any longer, you would start to cry and you couldn’t do that in front of him. 
“Y/N-” Matt started. 
“Thank you for letting me stay, but I have some stuff I want to get done before we have to get to the office.” 
Matt heard your heart racing. He could hear the edge in your voice. 
He’d hurt you and he hated himself for it. He wanted the chance to fix things, but at the moment, he knew that anything he said would just make it worse. 
“I’ll see you there, then,” he said quietly. 
“Yeah, uhuh, right. Bye, Matt.” You scurried out of the door, forgetting your jacket and your purse but being far too embarrassed to go back in for them. As long as you had your keys, you would be fine. A fresh change of clothes and a cold shower. That’s what you needed. 
Once you forced yourself to get ready for work, you actually had to go to work. Which meant facing Karen- who knew all too well your crush on your boss. And worse, it meant facing Matt again. Maybe you could get away with avoiding him. 
You could not. 
When you got to the office, Matt was there, perched on the edge of your desk with your bag and jacket in hand. 
“You, uh, forgot these,” he said, giving you an awkward half-smile. 
Karen sat at her adjacent desk and raised a brow. 
You took your things and put them on the desk, feeling that all too familiar rush of blush to your face. Thank god he couldn’t see it. 
Matt nodded and walked to his office, letting his hand graze your shoulder as he went, hoping it would be a comfort, but when he heard your heartbeat rise, he realized it was probably a mistake. 
How could he show you that what happened last night, the reason he pulled away, was not what you were thinking? 
The day passed agonizingly slowly, but at least Foggy and Matt kept busy enough that you were able to avoid him for the most part. You couldn’t bear the pitying half-smile he gave you so you made sure to stay with Karen, looking over cases and organizing facts about clients. 
Matt was going mad, flipping through papers and listening to Foggy read off statements. All he could think about was the hurt in your voice and how he was the reason for it. 
“Uh, earth to Matt,” Foggy said, snapping his fingers. “You there buddy?” 
Matt swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?” 
Foggy leaned over the desk with a slow, teasing smirk. “I think I know what’s going on.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You finally made a move on Y/N. Didn’t you?” 
Now it was Matt’s turn to blush. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Oh come on, Matt,” Foggy exclaimed. “I saw it from the minute she wandered through our doors. You like her.” He poked Matt’s shoulder, prompting him to shrug away and stand. This, of course, was all the answer Foggy needed. “Oh my God you do like her!” 
“Foggy-”
“So what happened? Did you guys go on a date?” Foggy raised a brow. “Did you do more than go on a date?”
Matt went silent. 
Foggy’s jaw dropped. “Oh, did she reject you?” 
Matt ran a hand down his face. “That’s not what happened.”
“Don’t tell me that you rejected her.”
“That’s not what…” Matt grimaced. “It wasn’t like that.” Because of course, he liked you and of course, under different circumstances, he would have liked to do a lot more than kiss you, but he couldn’t unless he knew that it was really what you wanted and not what the liquor was telling you to want. 
“Well, whatever it was like, you better fix it,” Foggy said, walking to the door. “Because you do not want to let that one get away, my friend.” 
The rest of the day passed painfully. You were avoiding him and he was trying to figure out how to make you stop avoiding him. It didn’t help that Foggy kept giving both of you painfully obvious hints, worst of all being when he asked Karen to help him run an errand, clearing his throat loudly as he passed Matt’s door. 
You kept your head down, looking over client files and incident reports. Anything to take your mind off of the way his arm felt around your waist. His breath on your cheek. You came across a file that had a recorded statement. Shit. it must have gotten put with your things by mistake. 
You swallowed, stood, and made your way to Matt’s office. 
“I think this is probably for you,” you said softly, standing in his doorway. “I don’t usually listen to the statements.” You swallowed again, your throat feeling dry. “I just look into who you tell me to.” 
“You do more than that,” Matt said, shaking his head. Why did you always downplay your importance? Could you see how much you meant to this place? To him? “Y/N, stay for a second. Shut the door please.” He took off his glasses.
You froze under his unfocused gaze, feeling him watch you in his own way. 
“Is something wrong?” You gulped. 
Matt gave you a small smile. “You’re the one who has been avoiding me all day.” He motioned for you to sit beside him on the edge of his desk. “I think we should probably talk about last night.”
“W-what… I don’t…” You stammered, staying where you were. “I didn’t think there was anything to talk about.” 
Matt raised a brow, motioning again to the spot beside him. 
You hung your head and shuffled to stand beside him. 
“Now,” he said softly, “will you please talk to me? It’s been driving me insane all day not being around you.” 
“What do you want me to say, Matt?” You sighed. Emotion crept its way into your tone. Embarrassment. Heartbreak. “Things took a turn. We stopped. We went to bed. What else is there?” 
“What else is there?” Matt huffed, turning to fully face you. His hand reached for your arm. “Y/N, I did what I did because you were drunk. I didn’t think-”
“It’s okay, Matt.” You didn’t look at his face., at his dark eyes that managed to see you better than anyone ever had. “You don’t have to explain. You were just being kind. You let me stay because I was too drunk to open my own damn door. And I appreciate that, but please,” you grimaced at the memory of him pulling away from you. You shrugged away his hand. “Please just drop it.” 
You moved to leave.
Matt stood in your way. 
“I won’t just drop it,” he said, desperation in his tone. “Don’t you get that I can’t?” He grabbed you by the shoulders, not letting you go this time. “Y/N, I can’t stop thinking about last night. I can’t stop thinking about you.” 
You blinked. “W-What?”
This wasn’t real. This was another trick of your mind. Surely you weren’t still drunk. 
“I have wanted a night like last night since you first walked through those doors,” he admitted, listening to your heart as it started to race. He gave you a small smile, hoping to calm you down. To convince you that what he was saying was the truth. “But I had to make sure that it’s what you really wanted. Not because of some awful drink I dared you to drink or because you felt like you owed me.” 
“Matt…” You trailed off. Couldn’t he tell? Couldn’t he sense that you’d wanted the same thing ever since you first saw him? 
“I just,” he sighed, “I need you to know that.” 
You didn’t know what to say. Any words that formed on your tongue died before they could make it out of your lips. 
Matt heard your heart pounding. He heard your fingers tugging on the bottom of your shirt- a nervous tick he’d noticed your first day. He let his head fall. He’d made things worse. 
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said softly, grabbing his cane and heading for the door. 
You didn’t think. Thinking had so far gotten you nowhere. Instead, you grabbed his arm, pulled him back around, and crashed your lips into his. 
Matt stumbled back in surprise but only for a moment. His hands found your face, cupping your cheeks gently as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. 
Both of you stepped, him forward and you back, his body pinning you against his desk, his arms moving around to hold you up against him. Your hands traveled up his chest and into his hair. 
This was happening. 
You pulled away, resting your forehead against his. 
“This is happening,” you gasped, unable to stop yourself. 
Matt just grinned. He gave you that ridiculous, intoxicating, devilish grin. And it melted you. 
“Do you want it to keep happening?” He asked cheekily. 
You didn’t answer and pulled him back to you.
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blackshadowswriter · 1 year
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Kneel At The Altar┃Matt Murdock
Summary: The one in which the Devil fucks you at the altar.
Warnings: blasphemy? (because I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to fuck in church), reader (me) having very unholy thoughts about Matt in church and Matt acting on those unholy thoughts, little bit of exhibitionism, smut: dom!Matt, kinda rough p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, edging, praying while Matt eats you out AND fingers you (???), choking kink, praise kink, spanking, some degradation, marking, multiple orgasms, some overstimulation, dirty talk (not particularly in that order)
God, if you're reading this, stop here, it isn't for you bby 😘
Words: 7,691
AN: Would you believe me if I said that this fic idea formed in my head WHILE I was in church? I'm not even kidding, I got dragged to church, and I literally thought up this fic while sitting in church, half-listening to a sermon. This fic has been sitting in my drafts for a while now, and I guess the wait was worth it because I bring you 7k words of pure sin. My content warnings have never been this long before, and that's probably not a good sign (or it's a very, very good sign)
Tagging my wonderful @farfromstrange because you also inspired me to finish this, and our horny enthusiasm for this fic kept me going, ily sm girl 🖤
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As you knelt in front of the altar on your hands on knees with tears in your eyes and the Devil himself between your legs, you wondered how you had gotten yourself into this predicament. 
It had started out so innocent: dear Matthew asking you to go to mass with him, swaying you with his plea of "I don't want to go alone, sweetheart, please" and that drowned puppy look in his eyes. For someone who couldn't see out of them, Matt could express a great deal of emotion in his eyes. 
You agreed to accompany him to Sunday morning mass and returned the victorious grin that had spread across his face with a fond one of your own. You weren't usually one for religious settings like this, but it was worth it to see Matt in that black suit with the white dress shirt—one of your favorite outfits on Matt. 
Half of the sermon fell on your deaf ears as most of your attention was on Matt, studying his gorgeous side profile and that stubbled jawline that you loved kissing when he fucked you. God, it felt even better between your legs. The thought of that sent heat flaring across your body as you squeezed your thighs together. 
Besides you, Matt cleared his throat quietly, nudging you in your side, undoubtedly guessing where your thoughts had gone. A faint blush rose to your cheeks when you saw that Matt's jaw was clenched tightly, a sign you had come to know meant that he was trying to control himself. The sight of that only spurred on further thoughts of Matt losing control and fucking you right there. 
Matt let out a quiet but ragged breath, and you knew he could smell the arousal between your thighs. His grip on his cane was so tense that his knuckles had turned white, his scars visible against his trembling fist. Your mouth went dry as you remembered those knuckles buried inside of you as you moaned for him just a few nights ago. Thighs clenching even tighter together, you bit back a grin at Matt's low hiss of your name. 
Subtly, Matt adjusted his pants next to you, and the discomfort on his face made you stifle a laugh. The quiet growl Matt rumbled in warning did nothing to dissuade you. You could feel the heat of Matt's body pressed against yours and bit your lip, recalling how it felt against your bare skin. 
Your fingers started to creep towards Matt's thigh, lightly skimming up and down the side of those muscular thighs that always caged you in when he knelt on top of you in bed. Faster than you could blink, Matt's hand flew towards you and caught your wrist in his tight grip. 
"Not here, for God's sake," he hissed in your ear. 
"Funny you'd phrase it like that," you murmured in amusement. 
Matt turned to glare at you behind his opaque red glasses, but the way he had to fold his hands across his lap to maintain some semblance of his Good Catholic Boy image in church (which you had come to realize was a total façade) told you he wanted it as much as you did. 
You should probably listen to him and stop before anything happened. What was the punishment for getting handsy in God's house again? You had a feeling you didn't want to know. 
But there was the slight thrill of excitement shooting through you at the risk of doing this in pubic. A sly grin slid across your lips as you tilted your head towards Matt's ear, letting your hair fall forward in a way that would seem to onlookers as though you were merely whispering something to him. Instead, you nipped at his neck right below his ear where you knew he was sensitive. Matt's entire form, every inch of thick muscle and power stiffened at the contact, and you heard him give the smallest, tinniest groan that no one other than you would be able to hear.  
Matt growled your name in warning, but there was no denying the lust burning in his dark eyes. His blank gaze had landed somewhere around your lips, and you wondered if he really was going to give into desire and kiss your right there. 
But then everyone started to rise around them to sing the closing songs, and the sudden movement snapped both of you out of whatever horny haze you had been in. You stood like everyone else, shoulders pressed together, forced to ignore the blatant lust coiling in both of you.
For now.
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"I'm going out," Matt whispered to you sometime late at night as you laid curled in bed with a book in hand while the shadow of the Devil stood behind you. 
At his words, you shut your book and rolled over to face him, eyes roving over the skin-tight black suit through which you could practically see every single ab. His black mask was held in one hand while the other came up to cradle your face gently. As much was you enjoyed Matt in his black lawyer suit, you decided that you enjoyed Matt even more in his black Devil suit when you could run your fingers across his broad chest and feel the almost burning heat of his skin underneath. 
You tilted your head up to study Matt's face. Whenever his mask was on, cloaking so much of his face in black, he felt like a phantom shadow that could disappear if you closed your eyes for a second too long. There was something sharp and fiery and dangerous about him.
You didn't mind of course. In actuality, you enjoyed it—enjoyed the danger of dancing with the Devil. 
"Okay," you said, sitting up to press a kiss to his soft lips. "Stay safe." 
"I will," he murmured, brushing his calloused fingers across your temple. "Stay in the apartment. Wait for me when I get back." 
You knew that voice—that low, possessive tone that dripped with promise for what was to come. A knowing smirk flitted across your lips as you hooked your legs around his waist to pull him nearer. "Yeah?" you challenged. "And what are you going to do when you get back?" 
Matt chuckled softly, and even though the mask was off, that sound right there was purely the Devil speaking. "Oh sweetheart," he purred. "That's only for me to know, isn't it?" 
That low, raspy voice he used rekindled that fiery want that had burned so dangerously in you hours earlier. By the time Sunday morning mass had been over, Foggy and Karen had called you both over for lunch in the office. The rest of the day had went by as normal with neither of you acknowledging what had transpired in the church outside of his promising smirks and your light, teasing touches ghosting across his body. 
Now, however, with the Devil ready to be unleashed, there was nothing stopping that eager, burning desire rearing its head in both of you.
Nothing except Matt's duty to the city. 
Fucking morals. You could just stay with me in bed, you thought about telling him. You might even be able to cajole him into staying if you could rile him up enough.
But no. You understood Matt's commitment to Hell's Kitchen even if you weren't too fond of the fact he got beat up every night. Still, it would be cruel to ask him to stop what he did just for you, just so he could hear the cries of those who needed him going unanswered in the merciless shadow of the night.
You weren't above asking for a little taste of his promise, however. "Tell me," you begged softly. "Tell me what you want to do to me."
That sharp grin was still on his face. "When I come back," Matt whispered in your ear, "I am going to fuck you into this mattress so hard that you won't be able to keep quiet." His fingers danced down the nape of your neck lightly, and you shivered. "And you're going to be screaming my name so loud, so everyone can hear who you belong to." 
"Oh my God," you whimpered, eyes rolling back at the promise. That heat coiling in your stomach lashed out across your body, spreading through you like a wildfire. It pooled between your thighs, making you clench them tightly together with a soft moan. "Matthew." 
The devilish smile that spread across his lips was absolutely sinful, a promise of the night to come. "But," he rumbled in your ear, his hand reaching down to grasp your wrist as he had in church. "You are not to touch yourself until I come back. Do you understand?" 
You whimpered again. 
"I said," Matt growled, "do you understand me?" 
"Yes," you whined. "But God, Matt, please...I can't wait that long, Matt, please—" 
"You will," he said sharply, "or you'll be punished." He released his harsh hold on your wrist and brought his hand up to trail lightly across your cheek, his tenderness a stark contrast to his rough dominance a few seconds ago. "You can do that for me, can't you, sweetheart? Can't you be a good girl for me? Can't you be a good girl and wait for me to get back to fuck you?" 
Fuck, not the praise. 
Your head fell backwards with a small shuddering moan, eyes falling shut as your thighs squeezed tightly together, a desperate motion to ease the ache in your core. "Matt," you whimpered. "Please." 
His low laugh breezed across your cheek, and Matt's hand disappeared from your cheek. "Be good," came his stern order, and then the radiant heat from Matt's body vanished, leaving you panting and desperate.
By the time your eyes had snapped open, the Devil was gone, melting back into the shadows into the night. 
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You tried. 
Oh God, you truly tried. 
You laid there in bed, body burning with desperate need as you tried not to think about what Matt was planning to do to you lest your predicament worsen. 
You tried to read. You rolled onto your stomach and flipped your book back open, trying to pick up where you left off. It did no good—the words wouldn't permeate the fog of sinful thoughts swarming in your head that screamed Matt, Matt, Matt. 
You thought about disobeying Matt and touching yourself, just to relieve some of that pressure building between your legs but quickly dismissed the idea. Matt would know if you did—he would smell the scent of your arousal on your fingers and instantly know what you had done. Even though the prospect of his punishment was excitement, tonight you didn't think you could stand his merciless teasing. You needed him desperately. 
Eventually, after nearly an hour of lying there, you got out of bed and slipped your shoes on. You would go for a walk around the neighborhood, you decided. The fresh air would help clear your head and calm yourself down. 
At least that's what you told yourself you would say if a certain Devil caught your scent and chased you down. 
And if you were really just hoping that said Devil really would catch your scent...well, that was no one's business, was that? 
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In an interesting twist of irony, you made it as far as the gates of Clinton Church before he caught up with you. 
You thought you had heard him behind you several times as you walked, and you knew he must have been letting you hear his small footsteps and scuffles on purpose. If he wanted to, Matt could move like a giant Devilish cat, leaping across rooftops thought the dark in absolute silence. 
But then you paused in front of the church, staring at the stained glass windows through which you could see the dark interior as you thought about that morning. You didn't even noticed the church doors slowly creeping open in front of your, too caught up in your thoughts. 
Suddenly, a strong arm snaked around your waist and yanked you through the doors into the dark church. The startled gasp that flew from your lips at the quick movement was quickly stifled by a large hand over your mouth, but you weren't afraid. You could feel the familiar, broad line of muscle pressed against your back, his body heat that always burned so warm a comforting feeling after the cold New York air. 
"I told you to wait for me," a low voice hissed in your ear. 
You bit back a grin, the tingle of excitement in your stomach growing stronger. "I was just going out for a walk," you said innocently. 
He growled behind you and dragged you towards the altar through the rows of empty pews. As your feet stumbled along, your eyes darted around the dark interior, sweeping for any sign of company. You shouldn't have been worried though—Matt had far more effectively scoped out the inside already to make sure no one else was there. 
"Kneel," Matt ordered when they reached the altar. 
You obeyed, dropping to your knees in front of the wooden table. The cloth that usually draped across it was absent tonight—perhaps being cleaned or for some other reason. It didn't matter. All that mattered right now was the man pressed against your back. 
"You've been a bad girl tonight," Matt mused, his chest vibrating against your back when he spoke. 
"Well, you were taking so long, so I thought I'd come find you," you replied sweetly, unable to keep the grin off your face this time. 
Matt hadn't told you that you could move, so you kept still in the position he had ordered you in—kneeling in front of the altar facing forward away from the warm frame of muscle and power at your back. Your eyes turned, almost automatically, up towards the massive statue of Jesus hanging from the cross as you silently wondered if Matt really was planning on taking your right in front of that statue. You decided you wouldn't mind if he did. 
Behind you, you could hear Matt pacing quietly, purposefully keeping out of your line of sight. He made a tsking noise. "So impatient," he tutted. "Perhaps I need to teach you the virtue of patience, don't you think, sweetheart?" 
You licked your lips slowly. "What does this lesson on patience include, sir?" you asked, emphasizing the last word with a smirk. 
His sharp inhale carried to your ears, and your grin widened. Your goal tonight was to rile Matt up enough that he would either forget about your disobedience or not care. So far, the plan was going great.
Then, his hand fisted in your hair and yanked your head back. Matt's burning form reappeared, pressed flushed against your back. His hot breath was in your ear suddenly, growling, "I want you to take these off—" his finger curled in the waistband of your pants and snapped them against your waist "—and get on your hands and knees."
When you didn't move at first, he landed a sharp hit to your clothed ass. You yelped, and his hand darted up to cover your mouth.
"Move, sweetheart," he ordered lowly. "And keep quiet. We don't want anyone hearing us here, do we?"
"No," you panted even though you weren't sure if you were telling the truth. His hand released your hair, and you scrambled to obey him, peeling off your jeans and tossing them aside before kneeling how he told you to. The position felt oddly exposed—you could feel cold air breezing across your naked legs and shivered.
"That's better," Matt murmured behind you. His bare hand—when had he taken off the gloves?—brushed against the back of your thigh, and you whimpered, instinctively pressing back against him. This time, when his hand came down your ass, you didn't have the denim of your jeans to protect you. The sound of his hand against the thin material of your panties echoed with a sharp crack through the church. You had to bring a hand up to fist in your mouth to keep quiet from the sting.
"So." He trailed a finger across the back of your thighs lazily, occasionally dipping them down to slide along the soaked fabric of your panties, taking pleasure in each of your hitched breathes. "You want to explain what that was about earlier?"
"I was just going for a walk," you whimpered, desperately arching back into him, but his fingers disappeared the moment you did. The next second, another sharp smack landed on your ass, jolting you forward with a small gasp.
"That's not what I was asking, and you know it," Matt said calmly. "I was talking about this morning."
A feeling of something—you didn't know what that was—ran down your spine, and you shivered, heart rate picking up at the memory of your little dalliance during mass.
"I don't know," you breathed.
Your heart skipped. Lie.
Another harsh strike landed on your ass. "You do."
"Fuck, Matt," you nearly cried, "please!"
"What are you asking for, hm?" Matt murmured, running a large palm over your stinging ass. "Tell me, sweetheart."
"Touch me, fuck me, anything," you begged. "Please, Matt, I've waited so long."
"Then you can wait a little more, can't you?"
"No," you panted, trying not to move, your body on fire. "Matt, please!"
He gave a thoughtful hum, fingers teasing you lightly through the thin fabric of your panties. Your hips bucked back instantly, a sharp whine leaving your throat at the touch. You tried to grind against his hand, but he yanked it away with a low, almost mocking chuckle.
"You've been naughty today, sweetheart," Matt purred. "Having such unholy thoughts in church—don't think I didn't know what you were thinking about. Tell me what were you imagining, hmm?"
Heat rose to your face, melting right along with the fire raging across the rest of your body. "I don't know," you stammered.
"Lie," Matt said, his voice darkly amused. His hand slid underneath your jaw and tilted your head back, so he could press his lips to the shell of your ear. "Were you thinking about me fucking you, sweetheart?"
A ragged moan fell from your mouth, a pulse of heat running across your spine. You let your head fall back against Matt's shoulder, arching back against him. The hand gripping your jaw stroked your cheek gently, a glimpse of softness underneath his dominating exterior.
"Please," you begged quietly. "I need it, Matt. I'll do anything, please..."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
He let out a quiet, considering noise, his fingers absently stroking your jaw with a gentleness that you had come to know precede the roughness. You whimpered quietly, begging him in your head to hurry up and do whatever the fuck he wanted to do so he could just fuck you already. Your body was aching with need, that fire in your raging to be satisfied.
"How well do you remember the Lord's Prayer?" Matt asked you abruptly.
You blinked in surprise. "T-the Lord's Prayer?"
"Yes."
"Um...kind of?" you said uncertainly. "Haven't done it since middle school." You felt the breath from his quiet laughter skate across your earlobe and twitched in anticipation of whatever he had planned.
"Here's what's going to happen," he said slowly, his tone dipping back down into the low timber of his Devil voice, the one that always sent shivers down your spine. "You're going to recite it for me as penance for your sins."
"I didn't—"
"Thinking about the Devil fucking you in church is a sin, sweetheart," Matt cooed. "You're going to need to repent if you want to get what you want."
"Y-you want me to pray."
"Yes."
"Right here. Kneeling in my panties. With you at my back, half grinding on my ass."
A sharp swat landed on your ass. "Hmm, it seems more like you were the one grinding on me," he chuckled lowly, dragging his finger along the seam of your underwear. "As for the panties, God might mind, but I don't think the Devil does. In fact, he prefers you praying like this. Go on, sweetheart. Say your prayer, and maybe I'll think about giving you what you want."
You drew in a shaky breath, trying to clear your head away from thoughts of Matt, fuck me already and remember the words of the prayer. This actually wasn't so bad, you decided. It was a bit of a weird request to pray, kneeling at the altar in soaked panties, but it was fine. All you had to do was recite the prayer, and then hopefully, Matt would be satisfied and finally give in to you.
Oh, how wrong you were.
"Okay," you started to say, the vaguely remembered words coming to the tip of your tongue. "Um...Our Father...who art in heaven...hallowed be...thy name?"
"Keep going," Matt purred in your ear, his hands sliding down from your face to lightly grip your throat for a brief moment, enjoying your shaky groan at the contact. He pushed you back down onto your hands and knees, hand running down to your waist and dragging sensually across your hips.
Whimpering at the touch, you bit your lip and forced the next words out. "Y-your kingdom come....and, um....your will be done—Matt, what are you—?"
For he had just hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and started to slide them down your hips. Your breath caught in your throat at the way the fabric slid against your most sensitive areas. "Don't worry about me," he murmured. "Just lift your legs up for me—there you go. Continue."
What the actual fuck? Did he honestly expect you to be even close to okay after that? He slid your panties completely free of your legs, leaving your soaked heat bare to him. You whimpered at the barely there brush of his fingers against your inner thigh, just a few inches away from where you ached for him most.
"Continue, sweetheart," Matt ordered.
You tried to take another deep breath and continue where you'd left off. "Okay, um...will be done...on—on Earth as it is in Heaven. Uh...give us this day our—fucking hell, Matthew—oh my God, fuck!"
You lurched forward, a strangled cry falling from your lips when you felt Matt's mouth suddenly close around your dripping cunt, tongue lashing mercilessly against your clit so fast and so sharp it nearly hurt. He kept up the torturous pace for a few seconds while you writhed and moaned, pleasure striking like lightning between your legs and arcing up to your back and across your legs. His mouth on you was both a remedy and fuel to the desperate need that had been kindling there all night. Your hands clawed at the carpet underneath you, fire burning across every nerve in your body as you shuddered and cried out for him.
Then, as suddenly as it came, his mouth vanished from your cunt in a heartbeat, and you were left just as empty and desperate as you were a few seconds ago.
"No!" you choked out, voice thick with fading pleasure and need as you tried to grind back against him uselessly. "Matt, please!"
He didn't answer your plea for a few moments, instead dragging his tongue across his lips and moaning softly as the taste of you. God, you were perfection to him, you always were. Matt wanted nothing more than to dive back between your legs and drink from you until you had nothing left to give him.
But half the enjoyment of the catch was the chase, and Matt was not done teasing you yet. He laughed darkly, landing another slap to your ass, gentler this time but no less firm. "I told you to pray, sweetheart," he reminded you. "I told you to pray and repent for your sins. And what do you do? Be a filthy little girl and start moaning for me? In God's house? What a dirty little girl you are."
Your mouth fell open at the sheer audacity of this man to accuse you of such a thing when he just fucking ate you out right in front of the altar. Still, there was no hiding the shudder that rolled through you at his words, and Matt gripped your hips firmer.
"You're going to finish your prayer," Matt ordered. "No matter what happens, and then we'll see if you deserve to get fucked."
"'No matter what happens?'" you repeated in a choked whisper. "Are you—you're not actually going to—"
Another hard hit landed on your ass, the sting only feeding the fire threatening to consume you. "Pray, sweetheart," Matt ordered. "Can't you follow a simple command?"
You swallowed thickly. "Y-yes, I can."
"Good. Then continue."
You whimpered softly, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to ignore the burning, aching need for him between your legs. Where had you even left off on the prayer?
"Give us this day our daily bread," you stammered out. "And—um—forgive us our— oh God!"
Because fuck, his mouth was on you again, hungrily lapping at your cunt as you bucked against him desperately. His hot tongue dragged across your clit, and burning pleasure was scorching every inch of your skin. You threw back your head with a wanton moan when Matt circled the sensitive bud with a quick swipe of tongue that had you writhing in his firm grip.
"Matt!" you cried, molten heat rolling across every nerve in your body. Your hands curled against the carpet, desperately grasping for something to hold on to, to brace you against the raging fire licking at your insides.
Matt paused in his motions, pulling his mouth away for a second, but his finger came to replace his tongue, drawing languid circles on your clit that had you rolling your hips in desperation.
"I told you to pray," he told you again, quiet warning in his voice. "Don't make me remind you again."
A strangled noise fell from your lips. "Y-you keep eating me out, and you want me to pray?" you squeaked.
You didn't have to look back to know he had that feral grin on his lips, the one that always drove you insane. "Oh sweetheart, that was the plan from the beginning."
And his deliciously thick finger plunged into you with a sinfully slick noise that seemed to echo through the empty church like a reminder of the blasphemy taking place at the altar, and then you were writhing, whining, whimpering as Matt fucked you slowly with his middle finger. His purposefully slow, deliberate strokes had you moaning so loud, you thought anyone passing by the church might hear you. Each thrust of his finger inside of you stoked that deep, festering pleasure that burned in your very core, making you arch and cry out to a God too ashamed to answer you.
That was okay, you thought through a thick haze of pleasure. You didn't need God to answer you. You needed the Devil to fuck you.
Matt groaned, his eyes rolling back at the smell of your arousal. He dragged his tongue over his lips, bringing the delicious taste of you from the air into his mouth, heat rippling through him at that new sensation. Painfully hard and throbbing in his pants, Matt panted, desperately drawing another breath in just to drag more of your taste into him. You were exquisite. You were perfect, his good little girl, making such pretty noises for him. You were everything he needed and so much more.
His thumb dragged across your sensitive clit, sending jolts of fiery pleasure stabbing through you as that pressure started to build in your lower abdomen, fire coiling into a tight rope, ready to snap. And oh, there it was, sweet orgasm dancing within reach, so close but so far away. Half sobbing, you arched against him, desperately trying to get him to fuck you faster.
But then Matt's fingers withdrew suddenly, leaving you empty and aching, slick dripping down your thighs as a harsh sob left your chest. The burning edge of orgasm was already fading away. "Matt," you cried, "please! Please, Matt, please, you've been teasing me for so long—"
"Isn't that what you wanted?" he snarled, his hand fisting in your hair to yank your head back, so his lips were right against your ear. "Don't act like you didn't want this, you dirty little girl."
A wanton moan slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, before you could register the embarrassment. "I wanted you to fuck me," you groaned. "I need it, Matt, please."
Abruptly, he released his grip on your hair but not before delivering another harsh swat to your ass. "You want me to fuck you? Then do as I say," he commanded. "I gave you an order, sweetheart, and you still haven't followed it. You better finish that prayer before I decide to give you another punishment for not listening."
"I—I don't—"
Another hit to your ass. "Did you not hear me?" Matt growled, his voice all rough edges and heated ash drifting across your skin. "Or do you just enjoy being a brat?"
This, you thought vaguely, this should be embarrassing. The way he degraded you, the way he called you his dirty little girl, his brat—if it had been any other man, you would've beat the shit out of him. But oh, it was him, it was your Matt, it was your Devil whispering filthy words to you, and every single syllable sent another pulse of heat rolling through you like molten lava.
"This is your last warning," Matt said lowly. "Finish your prayer now, or I'll give you another punishment."
Your brain scrambled to comprehend what he was saying, or at least some part of your brain that hadn't shut down, that wasn't giving in to primal instinct to beg Matt to fuck you. Where the fuck had you even left off?
"...F-forgive us our trespasses as we forgive...our—no, uh, those who trespass against us. And, um, lead us not into temptatio—ah, Matt!"
God, this time it was two of his wonderfully thick fingers pushing into you abruptly, thick heat pulsing through you. Your hips bucked against him instinctively, seeking moremoremore. The words of the prayer died on your tongue, replaced by shameless whimpers and moans as Matt dragged them out slowly and then shoved them back in a harsh thrust, the tips of his fingers barely grazing that spot, deep inside of you. Desperate, keening cries tumbled from your mouth as you threw your head back, gasping and whining.
You—oh God—you needed more. Hot pleasure wormed its way through your body, consuming every other thought until you were left with nothing but primal, wanton need. Your arms trembled as you barely held yourself up, cunt throbbing around Matt's fingers achingly.
This time, when Matt pulled your hair back and snarled in your ear, his fingers didn't leave you. Instead, they continued their torturously slow pace even as he purred, "Finish the goddamn prayer, sweetheart, and don't make me ask again."
You knew better than to protest the unfairness of him making you recite a prayer while he fucked you on his fingers in front of the altar. You could barely summon a thought that wasn't fuck me, Matt, please, but you managed to choke out the next line.
"Deliver us from evil," you sobbed even as Matt brushed his thumb across your clit again, making you jolt at the sharp pleasure racing along the bud of sensitive nerves. "I—ah!—don't know the rest—" you stammered, desperate to reach the end.
"Lie," he chuckled in your ear. "Lie one more time, and that prayer is going to be the least of your problems, sweetheart."
Your head fell back against his hand, eyes falling shut as your needy whimpers echoed along the church walls. His fingers had picked up pace, and now Matt pressed them deep enough to just ever so slightly brush against your g-spot. Even that brief, barely there contact was enough to have you dripping and throbbing on his fingers.
"Finish it," Matt cooed in your ear. "Come on, honey, you're so close."
In both ways, you thought distantly in your muddled mind. "Please!" you cried.
"Finish the last bit, and you can come," he promised.
Well, that changed things. Spurred on by his vow, you blinked harshly, trying to put aside the scorching pleasure arcing through your body for a second.
"For the—the kingdom and—uh something about power and glory—is yours, uh, nowandforeveramen," you rushed out, squeezing your eyes shut, and begging, begging that it was good enough for Matt.
"Hmm," he hummed, considering. Should he make you redo that last bit? Technically it wasn't correct, and how he would love to hear you cry for him if he made you repeat it. But then you ground your hips back, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers with a strangled cry of "please, sir!" And oh, how he could deny that?
Matt didn't reply, but you heard him shifting behind you, the rhythm of his fingers pausing for a second. A half sobbed plea was forming on your lips, but it was chased away in a heartbeat when the glorious wet heat of Matt's mouth closed around your cunt again.
Sinfully loud moans and gasps tore from your throat, your head falling forward. Fiery pleasure almost too much to handle burned between your legs, coursing up through your entire body until your toes were curling and your hands gripping the carpet. Matt lapped at your clit like a man starved, all while his fingers resumed their motions, finally picking up pace, settling into a fast rhythm you so desperately needed.
You were racing towards your climax at a speed that would've been embarrassing if Matt hadn't been edging you all night. "Please," you choked out, tears streaming down your face from the sheer intensity of it all. "Please, Matt, you said I could come, I need it, please—"
And his hand that was holding on to you squeezed your hip, and that was all the confirmation you needed. Wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking, Matt curled his fingers inside of you just right, pressing down on that spot, and then you just fell. Off that high cliff you had been dancing to and from for the entire night.
The plummet was truly something else: your back arched, and a ragged cry—almost scream—was falling from your mouth, incoherent noises and words reaching Matt's ears as orgasm surged over you like a tidal wave, knocking you off your feet and dragging you under into a blanket of blissful oblivion. You swore you saw stars popping in the corners of your blurry vision, so much white-hot pleasure burning through you, it was almost incomprehensible.
Matt slowed the drag of his fingers but kept up soft little kitten licks on your clit as you came down until you were twitching and whimpering from the oversensitivity. But he didn't wait for you to fully recover before continuing.
In one swift move, he flipped you over into your back, and you got a glimpse of his powerful form leaning over you, his flushed face, his straining bulge in his pants, his lust-filled eyes burning into you before his mouth crashed against yours in a fiery kiss.
You could practically feel his hunger devouring you from that kiss from the way he claimed your lips, hot tongue pressing into your mouth the second you opened to him. His teeth lightly nipped your bottom lip, and your moan was swallowed by his tongue sliding against yours. Matt groaned into your mouth, his hips grinding down against you.
"Matt," you whined when he broke the kiss to let you come up for air. "Please, I need you."
He growled, the hungry sound nothing short of feral as he dipped his head to suck at your neck. The hot embrace of his mouth at your throat had you keening, tilting your head back for more, which he gave you, his teeth grazed the delicate, vulnerable skin. A low hum rippled through his form before he suddenly sank his teeth into your neck, nipping you hard enough to leave a mark. You gasped, body involuntarily arching up into him as Matt dragged his tongue over the spot he had bit as if soothing it.
"Wanna mark you, sweetheart," he moaned into your neck. "So they know who you belong to."
Jesus fucking Christ. This man was going to be the death of you.
"Fuck me," you begged. "I want it, Matt, please. Mark me, fuck me, make me yours."
Another feral snarl rumbled deep in his chest, and then suddenly, you were lifted up into the air before your back hit a cold, stone table.
Did he just put you on the fucking altar?
You didn't have time to think about that, however, because Matt was hurriedly unbuckling his pants, and the only thought left in your head was finally. Eagerly, you helped him shove those goddamn pants off his hips, licking your lips at the sight of his straining cock in his boxers before you yanked those down too, reveling in Matt's soft whimper. His cock was painfully hard, the tip bright red and slick with his precum that dripped down his throbbing length. The mere sight of his gorgeous cock had you clenching your thighs together as you wrapped your hand around his thigh girth, stroking him softly. The throaty moan of your name he let out sent shivers racing down your spine.
"Sweetheart," he groaned, eyes falling shut.
"Please," you whined, "I need you, Matt. I need you inside me."
"Fuck," he breathed, and his fingers curled around your hips, yanking you forward suddenly. With a gasp, you were dragged across the altar until your legs could wrap around Matt, who was standing right between between thighs, all that thick, powerful muscle cradled between your legs. Matt lined his cock up with your entrance and brought his hand out to cradle your face. "I want to hear you scream for me," he ordered. "I want everyone to hear who you belong to."
You whimpered, nodding frantically. "I—yes, Matt, yes, just please—just fuck me, Matt."
Even like this, flushed, panting, and as obviously needy as you were, he could still manage that cocky smirk as his finger brushed across your lips. "You asked for it," he chuckled and finally, finally pushed himself into you, inch by burning inch.
Your eyes rolled back into your head, your mouth falling open as slowly, he slid his thick length into you, the stretch of him in your cunt welcome after the emptiness of so long. "Matt," you moaned when he finally bottomed out, his ragged groan matching your own. God, he was so big, so thick, seated deep inside of you. His burning body molded perfectly against you, the endless expanse of lean muscle and soft skin glorious underneath your roaming hands.
"You feel so good, sweetheart," he panted, dragging his cock out slowly and sliding back in, his leisure pace driving you mad. "Ah!—fuck—you're so tight, baby."
"Want you," you moaned, arching into him. "Want you to fuck me. Fuck me the way I know you want to, Matt, please."
He let out another ragged groan, the hand cradling your cheek moving down to wrap around your throat, not squeezing but just holding for the time being. "Y-yeah?" he stuttered, trying to sound rough and in control but failing as he swallowed down another eager moan. You loved watching him like this, watching the way he fell apart in front of you, all because of you. "And what's that?"
You wrapped your legs around Matt's hips to let him grind deeper into your cunt, matching his heady pant with a needy whimper of your own. "Y-you wanna fuck me hard," you moaned out. "Could feel it, Matt, could feel the way you want it. Please, I—I can take it, I need you to—oh fuck!—fuck me rough. Take me, Matt, please."
His growl rumbled deep in his throat, and the large hand gripping your throat squeezed just once. Matt dipped his head down to place a kiss on your lips, sweet and gentle one last time as he purred against your mouth.
Then, he braced his other hand next to your head on the altar, and when he dragged his hips back, this time he returned to you with a vicious snap of his hips, slamming his cock back into you. A strangled gasp flew from your mouth as your hands scrambled against the altar surface beneath you, trying to find something to hold onto.
But there was nothing, nothing other than you and Matt and the fast, rough, almost brutal pace he set as he drove himself into you again and again. This pleasure was so much deeper and stronger than before, each delicious drag of his cock against your slick cunt sending sparks careening through your body until your brain felt overloaded with bliss. The sounds you two were making were nothing short of downright filthy: the slap of skin on skin as Matt's hips collided with your thighs, the slick noise of his cock gliding through your obscene wet cunt, the sinfully loud moans falling from both of your lips.
Matt's grip on your throat tightened when you clenched around his cock, and he growled, the sound thick and hazy with lust and need. He picked up his pace even more, fucking you so hard you knew you were going to feel it tomorrow, but you didn't give a shit. Worth it, in your opinion, if it came from Matt Murdock railing you like this.
"Matt," you slurred, half drunk on the pleasure he gave you. He stroked your jaw with his thumb, his blank eyes, dark with arousal and lust, focused somewhere around your lips.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he panted, his hips driving into you with animal-like need. "Y-you feel so good. So wet, so tight just for me. You sound so—fucking pretty getting fucked on my cock."
You whined, writhing beneath him even as his hand not gripping your throat pressed against your waist to hold you down. Every goddamn nerve in your body was screaming, burning, scorching with the pleasure that rolled across your body in throbbing waves. Matt adjusted his grip on your waist, lifting you up every so slightly but oh at that perfect angle that let him hit your g-spot with each thrust of his hips.
Your high moan, pitched almost at a scream, was the result as mind numbing pleasure sparked between your thighs with each harsh thrust. You clenched tighter around Matt, spurring his frantic thrusts on until he was pounding into you at a pace close to brutal, the obscene squelch of his cock diving into your soaked cunt echoing around you like an unholy melody, the chorus being your screams.
Matt leaned over you, panting roughly. You could smell the sweet scent of musk and sex in the air and see the way his pink mouth parted with each heavy breath against your throat. He lowered his head to drag along your cheek until his lips were pressed against your ear.
"Come for me, sweetheart," he groaned. "I can feel you, you're almost there." And you were for the second time that night, you could feel the cloud of your orgasm hovering right above you, pushed closer and closer by each brutal stroke of his cock inside of you.
"Come on, honey, come on my cock," Matt ordered, and you whined. "You're taking my cock so well, all you have to do is come for me. Be my good little girl and come all over my fucking cock."
That was all you needed. Your back arched off the altar, your hands shot out to grab desperately at Matt, your eyes squeezed shut, and your head was thrown back in absolute bliss. This time, orgasm rolled over you slower than the first time but even more intense. It scorched its way through every nerve ending in your body, consuming you like a blanket of fiery heat, making your vision go white. Distantly, you heard yourself scream—actually scream—as you descended into a blank state of pure, utter pleasure.
You could feel Matt's pace growing sloppy and frantic, short, desperate thrusts as he panted and groaned louder and louder until his hips stuttered against yours, and the most beautiful moan you had ever heard left his lips. He emptied himself into you, and you felt his hot seed spilling deep inside of your cunt even as Matt continued to grind into your tightness until every last drop of his spent was buried inside of you. He slumped over your body on the altar, both of your chests heaving in sync as you came down from your highs together.
Finally, Matt lifted his head from your chest and peered at you with his lovely dark eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked uncertainly. "Was that too much?"
You cradled his face in your hands, marveling how this wonderful, wonderful man was yours. "It was perfect," you promised, kissing him sweetly. "It's never too much. I love you, Matt."
"Hmm," he hummed contently into your mouth. "I love you so much, sweetheart. You're sure you're okay?"
"Oh I am absolutely glowing, Matthew. If I had known this is what you meant when you said you wanted me to come to church with you, I would've came ages ago."
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AN: It's been a hot second since I've written full blown smut, so forgive me if it's kinda rusty. Although I feel like I should be asking forgiveness for this whole fic soooo 🤷‍♀️ I wanna say I need to go to church after writing this, but the last time I was in church, I came up with the most unholy smut fic idea ever, so maybe not a good idea (maybe it'll inspire another one though)
If you enjoyed, please remember to like, comment, and reblog! 🖤
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takemetothemoon-fics · 10 months
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overstimulated // matt murdock
Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader
Word count: 848
Warnings: overstimulation
Tags: Fluff, comfort
Synopsis: When you come home incredibly overstimulated, there's no better person to calm you down better then the one and only matt murdock
A/N: I love matt. he looks like he gives the best comfort ever.
MASTERLIST
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Sighing deeply, you grab your keys out of your bag. The ringing only makes you feel worse as you open the door. You enter your apartment you share with matt, and drop your work bag on the floor. With a toss, you get rid of your coat.
You're in a bad mood. Everything's too much, tiny sounds sound amplified, your clothing feels like sandpaper on your skin and your hair keeps touching your face, and tucking it behind your ear just won't work. Tiny things grow bigger and it makes you want to bawl your eyes out.
Matt had a free day, and had waited all day to wrap his arms around you. Happily, he stands up as he hears you come inside. "hey darling"
You feel like you're overflowing, and can't get anything out other than mumbling "I'm sorry.... I'm sorry" as you walk past him, into the bedroom.
Stumped, Matt follows you. Did I do something wrong? He thinks to himself. "darling?" he asks as he watches you go through the closet.
You need to change. you need to get into comfortable clothing, because this blouse you're wearing feels like sandpaper, and the only thing you can think about is taking it off.
Your mind is racing, and you don't even notice matt walking up to you. He grabs your wrist. "Are you okay? Your heart is-" he stops abruptly as you pull away. You fasten your tempo and quickly grab a pair of sweats and a big t-shirt and rush your way into the bathroom, leaving matt alone in the bedroom.
You close the door behind you. Your hand hovers over the lock. You sigh. You don't want to lock him out entirely. As you start to change, your hair keeps falling onto your face and you feel more and more agitated. You let out an annoyed grunt.
With now only a shirt, your bra, and underwear on, you decide to give up and turn on the shower. A wave of tiredness falls onto you as take a step towards the warm water and sit down. You let your head fall onto your knees and close your eyes, waiting for the horrible feeling to go away.
After a minute or two, there's a soft knock at the door. "y/n?". After not receiving an answer, he opens the door. Without saying anything, he sits next to you. The grey t-shirt he's wearing turns dark, and you sigh deeply. "You wanna talk about it?"
You lift up your head. You rest it against the wall. "yeah..."
"What's on your mind, angel?"
"It all so much, matt. Everything was just too much. Not sleeping last night did not help, and when I arrived at work, that prick was working as well. I... I had to swallow so much, because, honestly, if I didn't, I'm pretty sure I'd be in jail right now. And... I yelled at my boss. My boss, matt. He's gonna fire me, and I'll be jobless and-"
"Hey, slow down... You're okay. He won't fire you after one slip-up. And besides, you're good. Your boyfriend is a lawyer."
A small smile appears on your face. He seems to relax a little as he notices his gentle voice has calmed you down.
Matt moves up, and turns the shower off, and sits back down next to you. You're both soaking wet. You place your head on his shoulder and you sigh. "thank you"
He wraps his arm around you. "Are you feeling better?"
"Aside from getting cold, yeah."
He stands up and puts his hand out for you. You take it and stand up. He picks up a towel. He starts drying you gently, still testing the limits. After you're relatively touch-dry, you two walk into the bedroom and change into comfortable stuff.
"You ok?" Matt says, as he notices your quietness. "Yeah... I guess. I'm exhausted."
He takes a step backward and signals for you to lay down. You take the hint, and lay down on your back.
Matt is practically an expert when it comes to sensory things. Dealing with his new ability, he found out ways to calm down overstimulatedness, as he has been a victim to it numerous times. He would make a cup of tea for himself, or place a weighted blanket on him. Since there was no weighted blanked for him to use right now, he figured he would be the next best thing.
He gently places himself on top of you, carefully putting his arms around you. At first, you're a little confused, but notices this really seems to calm you down. You sigh again deeply, as you place your hand on his head and weave your fingers into his hair and start caressing it, causing him to calm down as well. You close your eyes, and feel your body going from tense to relaxed.
You nuzzle your face into his neck. Your turn your head, and look at him. He looks back at you. "What?" He says softly to you with a smile.
"Nothing. You're just perfect."
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amhrosina · 1 year
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Afterglow (Matt Murdock x Reader)
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a/n: another taylor swift song fic lmfao i just cannot help myself, this one is so angsty i almost felt bad for Matt just writing it (someone pls give that man a hug, he NEEDS one) also i feel so bad about not posting that i didnt even send this one to my beta reader i just posted it and hoped for the best lmfao
Summary: Matt and Reader have an argument that feels like it might be relationship-ending after Matt's hectic lifestyle as Daredevil catches up with him.
warnings: ANGST BRO SO MUCH ANGST, matty really just deserves the world, angry matt at the beginning, soft matt and foggy convo, matt doesn't know how to accept love, super soft matt at the end, some religious imagery i guess, happy ending
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I blew things out of proportion, now you're blue
Put you in jail for something you didn’t do
I pinned your hands behind your back, oh
Thought I had reason to attack, but no
Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves
Chemistry 'til it blows up, 'til there’s no us
Why'd I have to break what I love so much?
It's on your face, and I'm to blame, I need to say
The door slammed behind Matt in a fitful rage, and he was so pissed off, so intense in his anger that he wanted to turn around and slam it again, just to lash out a second time. It was so unlike him to be this way, so unlike him to allow the festering wound that was his soul show itself so plainly, but it had been a long night, long year, long life and he was fucking tired.
And you. You. You. You. You’d been caught in the crossfire. 
“Fuck.” Matt breathed, already regretting the argument that he’d started simply because he hadn’t been able to reel the Devil back in after a long night. The tight leash he held on the part of him that he hated, the part of him that you’d never seen because he’d hidden it so deep inside himself every night, was a ghost in his hands. The line between Matthew the person and Daredevil the vigilante had been blurring for months, but tonight was the first time he’d let it slip through the careful facade he’d been constructing around himself. He was a shattered window, ready to break at the slightest bit of pressure. 
The cold sliced into Matt’s skin as he stepped through the doorway at the front of his building, a sobering chill of wind that triggered the memory of your eyes welling with tears. He’d been relentless in his anger, and what for? Because he had a bad night? Because he couldn’t save everyone, and somehow that was your fault? 
Asshole is the word you’re looking for, Matthew.
Matt groaned and pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing Foggy’s number before he could talk himself out of it.
“It’s three in the morning, Matt.” Foggy said by way of greeting, voice still heavy with sleep. “You’re not somewhere dying are you?”
“Only metaphorically.” Matt replied, shuffling his feet. He lowered himself to sit on the stairs beneath him, huffing as his body settled against the concrete. The metal of the railing dug into his temple as he rested his head against it, an uncomfortable reminder that the only person to blame for this was himself.
“You okay?” Foggy’s tone had shifted from a sleepy annoyance to somewhat concerned. 
Matt closed his eyes. He didn’t deserve the love he received from his friends.
“I’m-” He started, but cut himself off when he realized he had no idea what he was going to say. Was he okay? No, he didn’t think so. 
“You’re kinda freaking me out here, man.”
“I fucked up, Foggy.” He deflated as he admitted it.
“With her?” Foggy pressed.
“With her. With everything.” Matt shrugged, blinking away the tears burning the back of his eyes. Your sudden return to his thoughts felt like whiplash, and he couldn’t catch his breath. “She deserves better than me.”
“Matt,” Foggy chided, and Matt could tell he was shaking his head, “Don’t say that. She loves you.” 
“Maybe not anymore.” Matt knew how ridiculous and juvenile he sounded, but the Matthew-Murdock-party-of-one pity party was in full effect, and he was leaning into the sad corner of his being so aggressively he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.
“She loves you.” Foggy repeated. “I don’t think anything could change that. What happened?”
“I had a bad night and yelled at her. It was stupid and I feel like an ass-”
“An asshole.” Foggy finished, and Matt couldn’t stop the chuckle that followed this observation. “Listen, did you tell her any of this?”
“Not yet.” The longer Matt sat, the more he hated himself for leaving. The words he had shouted echoed in his mind. “She should just leave. I’m never going to be able to give her what she deserves.”
“What about what you deserve, Matt?” Foggy asked, heated in the defense of his very best friend, “You deserve to be loved, too.”
Matt sat with Foggy’s statement for a second, letting the love wash over him for the briefest moment. Is this what it’s like for the kind of people who can easily accept the love of others? His body felt warm and fuzzy, an unfamiliar but comforting sensation that had him rubbing the heel of his hand across his chest.
“I should go apologize and hope to God she’ll take me back.” Matt sighed.
“She will, Matt.” Foggy assured him. “She will.”
Matt returned the phone to his pocket and turned, heading back into the place that held his entire aching heart.
It's so excruciating to see you low
Just wanna lift you up and not let you go
This ultraviolet morning light below
Tells me this love is worth the fight, oh
I lived like an island, punished you with silence
Went off like sirens, just crying
Why'd I have to break what I love so much?
It’s on your face, don't walk away, I need to say
Hey, it's all me, in my head
I'm the one who burned us down
But it's not what I meant
Sorry that I hurt you
When Matt reentered the apartment, it had only been twenty minutes since he’d stormed out, but it had felt like hours. You were in the same place that he’d left you - curled up in a sitting position on the sofa - except now your cheeks were coated with salty tears that permeated the air around you. Matt tasted them on his tongue the second he opened the door, a twinge of pain shooting through his chest as he realized just how bad the situation was. You were so deep in thought, cycling through the words Matt had spat at you, that you hadn’t noticed his arrival.
“Petal?” Matt called softly, alerting you to his presence in the room. You startled, turning to look in his direction. The silence before you responded was deafening and anxiety inducing, something Matt had never handled well. He wrung his hands together and took a step closer to you. Finally, you spoke.
“You came back.”
Not a question, but not really a statement either. A simple observation that left Matt stumbling over his words. 
“I uh…never really left. I was just downstairs.” He scratched the back of his neck. “On the steps out front. I didn’t go far.”
“I thought you weren’t coming back.”
Matt’s lip wobbled as he inhaled sharply and asked, “Do you want me to go?”
He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that question. He listened to your answer anyway. He would listen to any words you had to offer, even if they were words that might kill him.
“You said some terrible things, Matt.” You sniffled, sighing heavily as another wave of tears coated your cheeks. “You said ‘If you can’t handle this, I don’t think we should be together anymore.’ And the funny thing is, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be handling.”
“Petal, I-” Matt began, shaking his head.
“No, Matt.” Your voice had suddenly become very firm and very loud, all at once. Matt flinched. “I’m not finished.” You adjusted your body, leaning your head back against the sofa before continuing. “I don’t know who you are anymore. My Matty would never keep things from me or disappear for days at a time or yell at me. The man I fell in love with is missing, and I don’t know what to do to get him back.”
The hold Matt had on his tears was obliterated as you admitted your feelings to him. Warm tears fell down his face, every droplet an admission of guilt. You were right, of course. Matt hadn’t felt like himself in months, and instead of trying to get a grip on himself, he had been leaning into the suit every night, forcing his mind to focus on other things. He always took on the brunt of the pain in any situation - he’d been doing this his entire life - but he had not realized how much of that pain was being transferred to you every time he forgot himself.
“Baby, I’m- I can’t even say how sorry I am.” Matt sank to his knees in front of you, pleading. “You’re right about everything, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be good enough for you or come home to you after work like a normal boyfriend would and I’m sorry for the things I said. I never wanted to hurt you the way I did. I will never, ever, deserve your love.” He swallowed a sob as he admitted what he thought was the truest thing he’d ever said out loud. “Foggy told me I deserve love but I’ve thought and thought about it and I can’t imagine a world where your love will ever feel like anything but a gift to me.”
You sighed again, sniffling as you lifted your hand to cradle Matt’s wet cheek.
“I know I’m fucking it up. I’m sorry I can’t be more. This is all I have to offer, and I know it’s selfish to ask you to keep loving me but I can’t be without you. You’re all I have.”
“I don’t understand, Matty.” You shook your head, furrowing your brows.
“You’re the only thing that brings me home. And I don’t mean physically. You’re the only reason I can find my way back to myself. You remind me of the love the world is capable of. Not even Foggy can do that for me the way that you do. Can’t you see that you’re it for me? Without you, I am just a man walking hand in hand with the Devil. There is no point without you.”
“Matty.” You sighed, caressing his cheekbones as tears cascaded down his face. 
Matt wasn’t sure what he wanted you to say. That he did deserve love, or maybe that you weren’t going to leave him after tonight was over, or maybe anything besides ‘I don’t love you anymore’. 
“Don’t leave me.” He begged, barely above a whisper, so tired of the war raging in his mind. If there was anything he was capable of doing tonight, it was pleading with you for this. Beyond that, he was useless. “Don’t leave.”
“Will you lay with me?” You asked, and Matt nearly collapsed into your hold. It was not what he was expecting, but he would take it. The inevitable self-hatred and doubt about this moment echoed in the back of his mind, but he was ignoring it for once. All he wanted to do was lay with you, so that’s exactly what he did.
Tell me that you're still mine
Tell me that we'll be just fine
Even when I lose my mind
I need to say
Tell me that it's not my fault
Tell me that I'm all you want
Even when I break your heart
I need to say
I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you (Ooh)
I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you (Ooh)
I need to say, hey, it's all me, just don't go
Meet me in the afterglow
Matt was on the verge of tears again, lying next to you in the bed that you had shared with each other for so many nights. He was so afraid of losing this, losing you. He wasn’t entirely sure he would survive if you asked him to leave after this. He wasn’t entirely sure that mindset was healthy, either, but that didn’t stop him from contemplating it. He was here, and you were here, and if he was destined to live in this doubt forever, then at least he would die next to you.
Your tears had long dried up, but the ache deep inside you was palpable and overwhelming and he didn’t know what to do. The hand you had led him here with, the one that you still held, the only thing connecting your body to his was his safety blanket. This was what people called a safe space, he thought. For the first time in a long time, Matt began to silently pray.
He prayed for you, and he prayed for himself, and mostly, he prayed for love. He prayed that the night would last forever, so that he could lay next to you for the remainder of his life. He prayed for forgiveness, and begged for yours. He prayed for the strength it would take if you didn’t grant it to him. Because if you asked him to leave, he would. It would hurt and possibly - no, definitely - kill him, but he’d do it, because you deserved that, at least. The possibilities of the night were endless, and that was the scariest thing to Matt. Anything could happen.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked, lightly squeezing his hand.
“I’m praying.” He murmured, squeezing your hand back.
“About what?”
“About you.” 
“Oh, Matty.” 
The smile on your face, the steady thump of your elevated heart rate, felt like a win. Comfortable silence overtook the room, and you were so still for so long that anyone else might’ve thought you had fallen asleep, but Matt knew better. You were thinking, contemplating every word that had been shouted, pleaded, and begged tonight. All the while, Matt prepared himself for the worst.
“The sun’s coming up.” You murmured.
“Yeah?” It was all he could muster. Everything hurt, and he never wanted this moment to end.
“Yeah.” You swept your fingertips over his cheeks, following the path of the sun as it draped itself across both of your bodies. 
Matt swallowed, opened his mouth to ask the dreaded question, and then closed it and swallowed again. The gentle caress of your fingers felt like a brand in his skin. Finally, in a thick voice he asked for the second time in a matter of hours, “Do you want me to go?”
“Oh, Matty.” You whispered, tears welling in your eyes, and Matt’s heart sank into the ground below him. He thought he could do this, but he couldn’t. He was just supposed to leave what you had built with him? After everything, he was just supposed to count his losses and move on? No fucking way. His breathing had picked up, and he was so focused on his pounding heart that he almost missed the rest of your sentence. “I never wanted you to go. I just wanted you to understand how lonely I’ve been without you. I’m upset with you, but I’ll always love you, and I’ll never be the one asking you to leave.”
Matt stopped breathing for a moment, soaking in the warm relief as it crashed through him. He didn’t have to go, and you loved him. You loved him. You loved him.
“Are you sure?” He forced himself to ask, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.
You let out a small giggle and pressed your lips to his forehead before responding. “Of course I’m sure, Matty. But it has to change, okay? We can’t do this to each other again.”
Matt could hardly believe the words coming out of your mouth. He would do anything to keep you here, holding him, keeping him safe, loving him. Anything.
“I promise.” He murmured, grabbing at your face to pull it closer to his. “I love you.”
He pressed a million kisses into your face until you let out the melodic laugh that he felt he could get drunk on. He would do anything to hear that sound again, to be the one causing that sound. Anything.
-
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1K notes · View notes
muuumipeikko · 1 year
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Matt says 'I love you' for the first time
Matt Murdock x f reader
Summary: Matt attends charity event and he can't help but blurt out the L-word.
Warnings: Suggestive, nothing major.
A/N: English is not first language so there might be mistakes. Enjoy <3
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Soft laughs, bubbly chatter and champagne glasses touching lips.
That was what Matt was hearing all around him. Foggy had basically dragged him and Karen out of the office to this charity event, saying that they needed to make an appearance, as every other law firm was there too.
Matt didn't enjoy events like these. Everyone knew he was charming and easy to talk to, but he still didn't enjoy being dragged to talk to different people, having to act like he was interested in what they had to say.
He would rather stay at home, but he had already neglected Foggy so many times that he really needed to make an effort for him. Suffering one night would make Foggy happy, so that was what he was here for.
Besides, the event wasn't half as bad as soon as Foggy had snatched a bottle of champagne from the kitchen, bringing it to their table. Matt enjoyed listening to his friends getting drunk, babbling about what kind of renovations they would do to the office as soon as the money would start to flow.
Matt didn't drink that much. He wanted to be aware of his surroundings at all time, it was a force of habit he didn't seem to get rid of. He wanted to know what was going around him, what kind of people were surrounding him and his friends.
His fingers were playing with the half full champagne glass in front of him as he tried to listen what Foggy and Karen were talking about, but his focus was somewhere else. He was focusing on the soft ticking of the watch on Foggy's wrist, listening how minutes would pass as he grew more impatient, more anxious.
He was waiting for her.
He had invited her as his plus one, and she had happily agreed, but called later today, saying that she'd run a bit late. Matt was growing anxious as he wanted nothing more than her to be here already, his hand wrapped around her as he listened to her softly laughing at Foggy's stupid jokes.
As if the universe had heard Matt's inner thoughts, the atmosphere shifted and Matt's concentration was pulled elsewhere. He knew she was here, he could sense it the second the elevator doors opened and someone stepped out.
Matt could easily navigate her perfume as she walked from the elevators to the main floor. To him, she stood out from every crowd.
''She's here'', Foggy said as he spotted her moving around the crowd, looking around for the three lawyers. Matt tried not to smile too brightly, but he failed as the smile crept on his lips.
''Where is she?'' Matt asked and Foggy looked around. ''Straight ahead, ten meters'', Foggy said, trying to find easy way for Matt to get to her.
Foggy didn't know about Matt's abilities, how he already knew exactly where she was standing and how easily Matt could get to her. Matt hadn't said anything to his friends, he was trying to protect them.
''I'll be right back'', Matt said, slipping from his seat and unfolding his stick. He fixed his suit a little, pushing the stick to the floor and heading towards the direction Foggy had told him to go.
He was listening her heart beat as she was looking around and as her eyes spotted the handsome lawyer heading her way, her heart started beating a lot faster. Matt couldn't help but smile as he approached her, moving the stick around, so he could avoid hitting anyone.
He didn't need the stick to move around, it was all for the show. He didn't need sight to find her, his feet were guiding him to her. Matt was pretty sure that he'd find her even if he'd lost his hearing too. It was like a force was pulling him to her.
''Hey beautiful'', he said simply as he stopped right in front of her, pulling his stick up. She grinned from ear to ear. ''How did you find me? Did you smell me? Hear my inner thoughts?'' she asked, teasing him. She knew about him being Daredevil, his ability to see the world in different way. He had shared his secret with her.
''Foggy told me'', he said and she let out a soft chuckle. ''Right, of course. Did he mention that I looked beautiful too?'' she asked and Matt smiled. ''No. That happens to be a well known fact'', he said and he could sense how the blood rushed to her cheeks as she giggled.
''But you must look really nice tonight'', he said, his voice lowering a little as he leaned closer to her. ''How would you know that?'' she asked, still smiling like a fool in love.
''You are turning a lot of heads, racing a lot of heart beats'', he said, his voice was husky. She let out a soft breath before she grinned. She was looking at his handsome face, how the sunglasses pushed on his nose, how a playful smirk was tugging his lips.
She took a step closer to him, closing the space with their bodies. She lifted her hand up to lay it on the side of his neck. She lifted herself up a little so she could close the gap between their lips, capturing his lips for a sweet kiss.
Matt smiled against her lips, his hand wrapping around her waist so he could hold her against him as he softly kissed her back. He could sense how the heads that had turned to look at her were now turning to look away. He couldn't care less as he enjoyed the softness of her lips against his, her nose brushing his. She let out a satisfied hum as she pulled away from the sweet kiss.
''Your heart beat is the only one that matters to me'', she whispered, her breath hitting his lips. She could feel his steady beat going wild under her fingers. Matt could feel his head spinning. He smirked a little, leaning down to peck her lips again before he straightened himself.
''Come on, Foggy and Karen are this way'', he said, offering his hand for her. She easily held his elbow, letting him lead her.
For the rest of the night, Matt had difficulties concentrating to anything else but her. He found himself getting lost in her laugh, how the soft giggles left her lips. Her hand would brush his leg, touch his arm or hold his hand, sending shivers down his body every time her skin made contact with him.
He could hear her body moving in the dress, figuring how it was hugging her waist just right, listening how she would move in her seat and the fabric would move up on her thigh, revealing more skin. She would brush her hair behind her ear, basically showing him the pulse point on her neck, and he wanted nothing more but to push his lips against it.
Not a single detail of her would go unnoticed by him. Her familiar scent was driving him crazy and when she laughed at something Karen said, her hand squeezed his larger hand, Matt couldn't help himself anymore.
He was ready to leave the event, he wanted nothing more but to go home with her.
Matt ran his thumb over her knuckles, pulling her attention to him. He leaned closer to her. ''Do you want to head out?'' he whispered and she smiled a little. ''Yes'', she said, without hesitation. Matt smiled brightly. ''Takeout and movie?'' she whispered and he grinned.
Chill days with her were heaven for Matt. They would lay on the couch and some movie would run on TV, but he really didn't care. He would focus on her, how she would laugh at the funny bits, how she'd let out soft sighs when something romantic was happening and how she'd jump a bit when something scary happened, making him pull her even closer to his chest. He loved having nights like those with her, but right now, watching a movie wasn't his first priority.
''Not exactly'', he said and she could see the devilish smirk he had on his lips, telling her straight what he really wanted. She rolled her eyes a little, smiling to herself, but her heart beat was failing her, telling Matt that she was as ready to go as he was. Matt held her hand as he turned to say goodbyes to Karen and Foggy.
He easily guided her around the crowd to the elevators and she pushed the button for the elevator doors to open. They stepped to the elevator and she pushed the button on the wall as Matt leaned against the back wall, listening to her rapid heart beat. She was looking at the numbers on the wall.
He was listening to her soft hum as the elevator doors closed. He was smiling to himself, listening to her softly move and look at the numbers on the wall.
''How many levels-'', she started.
''I love you'', Matt blurted out on the same exact second as she opened her mouth, cutting her sentence.
He could hear her breath hitching in her throat as she turned around, her eyes widen as she looked at him with his mouth open.
He had to say it. It was something he had wanted to say for ages, but he didn't have the guts to say before. He did love her, he loved her for everything she was and he had to say it, but her shocked reaction made him freeze again.
''What?'' she let out a sudden breath as she looked at him leaning against the wall.
''You want pizza or Chinese food?'' he asked, trying to let the L-word he had just blurted out seem as if she had heard wrong.
''No... You said-'', she tried to form a sentence as she took a step closer to him.
''I asked about food'', he said, swallowing.
''I'm pretty sure you didn't'', she said, stepping right in front of him. ''Say it again'', she said, looking at his face as he had suddenly pushed the panic button, trying to escape the situation. Matt swallowed, listening to her heart going crazy right in front of him.
''Say it again'', she whispered. Matt could hear the smile in her voice. Her hand moved to cup his cheek and he took a deep breath. Why was he so nervous all of a sudden?
He loved her.
''I love you'', he said softly. It was like a weight was lifted from his chest as she grinned so widely.
''I love you too, Matt Murdock'', she grinned. His face lit up. He was sure his heart was about to burst through his rib cage, as he had never felt anything like this in his life.
She loved him back.
''You silly man'', she chuckled before she pulled his face down with her, capturing his lips for a kiss. Matt let out a breath he was holding, deepening the kiss and pulling her closer by grabbing her waist. He was sure his lips would be bruised on how hard he was pushing against her lips, but he didn't care. He wanted to feel every corner of her lips.
Her hand moved from his cheek to the back of his head, her fingers running through the dark locks as he kissed her like there was no tomorrow. Her whole body tingled as his frame was leaning on hers, his arms wrapped around her. He claimed her mouth with hot, hungry kisses, making her knees go weak.
The sound of the elevator reaching the wanted level made both of them pull away from each other. She looked at his pink lips and how his hair was tossed around. She let out a breathy giggle at his dizzy state. She leaned closer, her nose brushing his as the elevator doors opened.
''I want pizza'', she said, answering his previous question about the food. He let out a low chuckle. She grinned, pecking his lips again and lingering there for a second, enjoying the warmth of his lips. She then pulled away, grabbing his hand.
''Come on, let's go home'', she said, pulling him out of the elevator. Matt was smiling from ear to ear.
He was going home with the woman he was truly and madly in love with.
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1K notes · View notes
chaithetics · 13 days
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Devilish Worries and Bodies
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Pairing: Matt Murdock x F (afab) reader Word count: 3.3K Warning/note: 18 + MDNI, mentions of anxiety/mental health/worries, and smutty smut smut! P in V intercourse. Some fluff. No description physical description of reader other than afab. Not proofread! Please validate me and this self-indulgent fic, sad girl era is thriving.
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Matt had already come home after a long day of fighting for justice through the legal, sophisticated, respectable way of the courts as the good samaritan lawyer for the voiceless and defenceless of Hell’s Kitchen. And then endured a long night of fighting for justice through the illegal, frowned-upon way of his vigilante persona, Daredevil. He’d come home, you’d helped him clean up the couple of cuts he had and he’d gone to bed now. He was sleeping peacefully, he looked like an angel as his eyes were closed and no worries were etched into his face. 
He had been in a deep slumber by the time you left the bed, he was yet to notice. You hadn’t been able to sleep at all, and it wasn’t his fault that that was the case. You were now sitting on the sofa in the living room that felt even greyer and colder than usual. Everything felt so cold, you almost wondered if your vision was acting up. You just needed some rain outside and you’d be in Catherine Hardwicke’s blue-green-tinted world of Twilight. 
You had a glass of water in your hands that was now room-temperature because you’d been sitting there so long. Holding it. Thinking. Thinking about just tipping the glass of water out onto yourself, because why not? Then that image would replay over and over. Then you’d sip from it. Somehow. Lower it. Back to holding and then back to thinking. It was still pretty full at this stage. 
Staring out the window into the numerous lights that appeared to float mid-air, parallel to the sky at different points. You couldn’t see any stars, you hated that. At least if there were stars you’d have some luck of counting them, maybe trying to name some of them, in an attempt of some distraction technique you told yourself that a normal person could do. Then you thought a normal person probably wouldn’t even to do this. The voice in your head that said it, was mean, it was the kind of a high school bully which made you feel even worse. You let out a deep sigh and choke on a little sob that you didn’t know had been wanting to come out. 
That’s the noise that wakes Matt up, he stretches out in the bed you share as he lets out a quiet but deep yawn as he tiredly rubs his eye. He moves a hand through his sleep-toussled hair as he immediately realises that you’re not in bed with him. He sighs as he focuses on the elevated heartbeat of yours he can hear drumming along further in the apartment. He immediately knows something is up, when he’d originally come home he thought something might’ve been bothering you as you seemed slightly detached but he’d been able to write it off as you just being tired because it was extremely late when he’d come home after a patrol. He couldn’t write this off as early hours fatigue though. He knew you, down to the core, even when you didn’t want to be perceived.
Matt gets up and slowly walks out of the bedroom with gentle footsteps, he could’ve been a ballerina in another lifetime. He’s so quiet with his movement after years of practice that you don’t notice he’s out of bed until he’s standing just a few steps away from the couch. 
It’s when you get the feeling of goosebumps on the back of your neck and that feeling that somebody is watching you that you start to wonder. You’re not sure though if it’s just depressed paranoia that makes you feel like somebody is watching, Matt had absolutely passed out, he should be in a deep sleep still you think. But you try to slow your breathing and not given into the urge to look and further panic, but you think that if someone was behind you it’s better to look and know that there is or that you’re not just feeling depressed but also paranoid. 
With a sigh after a sharp inhale you slowly turn your head and look, you see Matt standing there. He’s just a couple of steps away from you, he’s facing you and well… he’s not just facing you, he’s analysing you. You look at him with tears in your eyes as you know he’s doing a full scan of your senses. 
Matt steps closer immediately and sits on the sofa right next to you as the first tear has just dropped. You’re not sure if it’s because he can hear the tear dropping out of your tear duct to run down your cheek, or if it’s because he can smell the extra stress hormones or something in these emotional tears. 
“I thought you were asleep.” You whisper hoarsely, almost feeling ashamed at this scene happening. 
“I was.” He says gently as he raises his hand to your cheek and then he gently rubs your cheek, wiping up the few tears had already shed. 
“I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry-” Now it’s guilt as well. 
“Don’t apologise.” He quickly cuts you off in a gentle tone. 
He’s caring but he says it so nonchalantly, like this is normal. He’d spent a day working with clients, then he’d had a violent patrol and now you having a mini-breakdown interrupted his sleep. You felt bad and you knew that maybe you shouldn’t because you’re a human and you’re entitled to a cry and love and understanding. And all those things. But brains aren’t logical, and they sure as hell aren’t when you’re going through the emotions. You sigh as you look at his face, seeing the compassion and adoration. 
“Are you going to talk to me, beautiful?” He whispers with a gentle, playful smile. He’s trying to ease this. Diffuse the anxiety. 
“It’s just overwhelming. There’s a lot of mental noise and I’m struggling to not spiral-because well I’m already spiralling and nothing feels good. I’m not good. I’m just not good.” You spit out. 
He quickly pulls you into his arms and your face is pressed against his warm bare chest. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh of relief and bury your head further into his chest. It’s so comforting and even when you’re a mess, he still somehow knows how to comfort you. 
“Maybe you’re not good, and you’re just great instead.” He whispers as he starts to caress your back gently, he seems to be almost tracing an invisible pattern as he does. “That’s how I feel about you. Other days you may be good. It’s been bad before, it’s been good before. It can feel good again, honey. And it will.” 
You sigh and tilt your head to look at him as you move more into his lap and adjust yourself to be more physically comfortable. You trust him, you love him, you believe him but you’re not sure if you believe him more than the disbelief you have in yourself. 
Matt seems to sense this hesitation in you. “Five things you see?” He asks softly as his head is tilted to face you, he’s focusing on you because you’re his whole world. 
“Um…” You inhale and start to look around as you think. “Your face…” You say and almost chuckle, he smiles that charming grin widely and chuckles. “Good, what else.”
You look around and think. “The window… The couch… that plant in the ugly pot my cousin gave us.” You say and you both smile at that. You had to describe in detail the absolute atrocity of the pot to Matt when had been gifted to you both and it was now a bit in your relationship. 
“Good, good, not so good.” He chuckles with the smile that’s slowly distracting you from your worries. “One more thing.” “Um, the light.” You say quietly. 
“Four things you can feel.” He says and you can’t help but chuckle. “Well, you, I guess, and four different parts of you.” You say as you look at him as your cheeks heat up. 
“Sure, I’ll give you that one.” He says playfully. “Do I feel good?” He then asks teasingly. It makes you roll your eyes and chuckle. 
“Yeah.” 
“So something feels good.” He says with a proud smirk. 
“Don’t use my words back at me, like that.” You say as you watch him smile. “Mm, don’t say them then, pretty thing.” He says proudly and he chuckles and kisses your lips softly with a little peck. “Now should I keep going with the grounding and distraction technique?” 
“I don’t know-” 
“Why, are you in your body and out of your head enough?” He asks with a smirk as he caresses your back. 
“Maybe. You’re pretty good at that.” You say, he is. He’s so good at reassuring you and bringing you back to Planet Earth and away from the galaxy of overthinking and mental black holes. 
You lean against him and press a soft gentle kiss to his collarbone as he’s so close to you. All of him is, he’s enveloping you. He lets out a quiet little groan at that, that he tries to muffle but you catch it. You look up at him and bite your lip. 
You move slightly and caress his strong arms gently. “Honey, are you sure? You’re… Well you’ve been upset…” He says softly. He means it. 
“Yeah, but I’m feeling better now. And maybe the dopamine and oxytocin is just what I need.” You say matter of factly but still a little anxiously. “Oh really?” He cocks his head slightly and there’s a devilish grin on his face but his eyes are filled with love and adoration.  
“Yes really.” You smiled softly as you looked up at him, you really loved him and you felt safe with him. Matt started to run his thumb along your jaw and down your throat gently. 
You felt your cheeks heat up more and then you trailed your hand down his chest, his stomach, being careful to avoid any visible cuts or bruises on his pale skin. Your hand made it’s way down to palm him over his boxers. You watched his face carefully, his cheeks started to tinge with a blush and he smiled. 
“Mm, no.” He said with a smirk and then he quickly flipped you carefully and gently so you were now lying on your back on the couch while his hand was firmly on your waist as he looked down. You sharply gasped as this happened but then let out a giggle which just made his smirk grow ten times more. 
Matt lowered himself, caressing your waist gently and then running his hand down to your thigh and up again slowly, your breath started to slow in anticipation as you bit your lip, he was paying attention to your breathing and then he tugged your sleep bottoms down. Your cheeks heated up more at that as you looked down at him. He was completely focused on you now as his fingers danced around your inner thigh, spelling out invisible love letters and filth on your sensitive skin as you gasped at each touch. For a man with a moniker that had the word ‘devil’ in it, he sure was heaven of a man. 
Matt started to kiss your thighs, as his fingers moved up, he then paused his kisses as he finally travelled across to your vulva and ran a single finger through your folds. It triggered an automatic soft moan that made him smirk for a moment as he then gently spread your folds. 
His finger starts to travel more, he teases your hole with his index finger, circling it and almost going in for you to swallow him up but never quite, you feel your core clench up at this and don’t even realise that you’re holding your breath, waiting for him. Waiting for more. He keeps exploring, teasing, and pulling out soft moans and groans of anticipation from you, he starts to slowly insert his finger which makes you gasp and then he pulls it out. He brings the finger to his mouth and sucks on it, tasting your juices. 
You gasp at this and watch him, you’d been watching him the whole time but now your eyes are absolutely glued to him. He then brings his finger mixed with your juices and his saliva to that sweet, sweet, bundle of nerves that’s craving his touch. He starts to circle it slowly in a clockwise motion, applying a little more pressure. 
“You know, that tasted pretty good.” He says. He says it so confidently, the nature of his tones words, and what’s happening makes your cheeks heat up more as you let out some soft moans. “I should probably try it straight from the source, that’s what I need to do, isn’t it?” 
“Oh Matt…” You can’t help but feel like you’re going to explode just from his words. But he’s already dived in. 
Matt kisses along your vulva as he inserts his finger into your hole, lightly, almost teasingly. The kisses get closer and then he starts to lick. You’re almost squirming a little now, it feels so good, he’s not even at your clitoris yet, but his mouth and fingers is the start of an overwhelming heaven and you know that. You let out a loud whine and as you squirm, he moves his free hand to firmly hold your thigh, keeping you in place and he groans against you. The vibration of that is absolutely perfectly and you bite your lip, trying not to cry out, as you feel your eyes close as he licks your folds while pumping the tips of his index and now middle finger out. 
After a loud whine he smirks and then moves his mouth to the sweet spot as he keeps lightly fingering you, he licks your bundles of nerves, slowly, almost painfully so, circling it with his tongue and then you feel him kissing it and then he starts to lightly suck on your clitoris. You whine out at that, desperately so, as you claw the side of the couch and your eyes start to roll back. He hums against your clitoris, he’s so perfect and he knows that you love that so much. It always feels so damn good and it does right now. The vibration of that humming perfectly gets you off every time and sends pleasure right from your core right down to your feet and up to your head. 
Matt keeps humming, well aware of what it does to you, and hungrily sucks on your clitoris, like his life depends on bringing you to orgasm, that he is a man dying of a thirst that only tour sweet juices can quench, that your release will be his salvation. He keeps sucking and you feel your eyes roll back so much and you’re moaning so loudly as your back arches, he’s taking you to the peak and you can’t hold it back anymore. You whine out and grip the sofa more as he firmly holds your thigh, his fingers digging in as his mouth brings you to an overwhelming and incredible orgasm. 
“Oh Matt!” You whine out as the pleasure from it floods you. He keeps sucking and licking, making sure he gets each last drop and makes the most of your taste that he’s obsessed with and needs. He slows down after your release as you pant quickly you can’t help but smile and as you look down and see his face move away, his chin and mouth is wet but his lips are curled up in a smile. 
“You taste sweeter than anything I could ever dream of wanting.” He says as he caresses your thigh, there’s a slight flush in his face as he pants a little. Your cheeks heat up more at his words and as you watch him move. 
Matt takes his boxers off and then quickly kneels on the couch, spreading your legs and you see his thick member aroused and hungry. He’s looking at you as moves closer, holding it and then you move your hand down, feeling it and the precum that’s already dripping. You help him line himself up. 
Matt immediately thrusts in, he bottoms out quickly, you sharply inhale and he lets out a loud, perfect groan that’s music to your ears. 
“Absolutely perfect every time.” He whispers and then he slowly starts to move as his hand moves up your stomach and to your chest as he holds onto a breast while his other hand is planted onto the sofa to steady himself as he moves. 
You feel yourself clenching more around him with each thrust, his rhythm is steady but quick and you’re already so sensitive after the mindblowing orgasm he just gave you. Matt groans as his pace increases while he thrusts into you. You can’t help but whine out as he squeezes your breast and grunts out while moving. 
Matt then moves so his body is flushed against you, chest to chest, he puts his arm under your head, almost cuddling you closer to him as his hips start to move ten times faster. 
“Oh Matt, fuck…oh god…” You whine out loudly as he moves quickly and you’re so physically overwhelmed. He smiles at your reaction and groans into your ear, pressing his lips right against you to kiss your hair and moan into it as he fucks you like his life depends on it. 
His hips are moving so quickly and it completely contrasts to how the way he’s holding you is almost so gentle. You wrap your arms around his back, almost weakly and then start to scratch his toned back as the thrusts become deeper and deeper. You feel so full. 
“So perfect, so beautiful. I love you.” He groans into his ear as he keeps pounding into you. He’s a man in love and one that craves your body. He’s absolutely obsessed. “Your pussy is always so needy. I love it.” He groans into your ear as the thrusts become faster. 
“I love… I love you… t-too…” You whimper out as he keeps thrusting. You bury your head into the crook of his neck as he keeps going, he’s squeezing you tighter. “I love you s-so-so much…” You feel his hips starting to sputter as the rhythm breaks up a little. He’s still thrusting quickly into you but he’s getting close. 
“You feel so good, I’m not gonna last long beautiful.” He moans into your ear as he holds you tighter and keeps thrusting into you. You nod against his shoulder and neck, you knew this, and you have no issue with it. 
You dig your nails into his back and scratch him, goosebumps run along his skin at your touch and his breath changes for a moment as his body trembles slightly and he gives one last thrust as he then releases. He groans out and you look up at him smiling and biting your lip, he always looked so handsome when he finished and he made the sweetest noises. 
He groans and opens his eyes slowly, he looks at you and then immediately kisses you on the lips lovingly and comfortingly. He pants against your soft lips as he rests them there after the kiss. You run your fingers through his dark hair that now has beads of sweat from this exertion. This is peaceful, he loves you and you love him. You’re perceived, and somehow, that’s okay with Matt. 
After a moment he kisses you again and then he carries you to bed, he’s your loving, protective big spoon as your mind finally quietens down and you get to enjoy a deep sleep next to your handsome devil.
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peterman-spideyparker · 5 months
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Something Good (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Heya! So, one big perk about being sick and working from home is that I'm really chugging through my idea notebook! This one is the first one on the page, actually, and it's inspired by "Something Good" from The Sound of Music. Enjoy :)
Summary: Matt's in love. He's not entirely sure he deserves it, but he found love with you. It's terrifying and special, and he knows he's beyond lucky.
Warnings: Sweet adorable fluff (Matt's in love, guys). No use of (Y/N), but it does refer to the reader being feminine/female-identifying
Other Characters: Foggy Nelson
Word Count: 746
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Matt’s no stranger to sleepless nights. From the sounds of the city keeping him up, to staying out until sunrise on patrol, to being kept awake by his injuries, to his nightmares, his worst case scenarios violently ripping him from his slumber. Tonight, though, tonight is different. He’s still experiences sleepless nights, all the fear and guilt that comes from the idea of not being good enough or strong enough. But those sleepless nights and all those worries have become lesser and lesser the more that you’re in his life. 
The first time you slept over, he was so worried he’d wake up screaming with a nightmare, he almost didn’t sleep. He was even apprehensive of having you stay over because he was concerned that Hell’s Kitchen would need it’s Devil and he’d have to slip out; you’d wake up in the middle of the night alone, and he’d loose something he worked hard to try and achieve—a normal relationship. And until that night, it had been just that for Matt, normal. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. Boy asks girl out. Boy takes girl on date. They date some more. He finally kisses her after arguably too long. Boy cooks girl a romantic dinner. Boy and girl spend the night together. Boy knows he feels something he’s never felt before.
But in all that worry that he’d mess up that first night, with all the fear that kept him wide awake in his own bed, you snuggled into him; in your slumber, you wrapped your arm around his torso, held him close, and cuddled down into his chest. Matt noticed how your heartbeat changed, how your breathing slowed and evened out. You were the purest form of content and relaxed with him. Now, that made him nervous because it meant that you felt the same way, too. And while it made him nervous, he felt his own heart steady and the sleep that he so desperately tried to fight off lay like weighted blankets on his eyes. He was the first one to wake up the next morning, and he found your positions unchanged; you were still latched onto him, and his arms were around you, keeping you close to his heart.
Each night after that got easier. He was afraid, though, for the inevitable. Mentioning this in passing to Foggy, his best friend closed his office door, sat down across from Matt at his desk, and laid it all out: how to carefully bring it up, broaching the topic of senses, his passion for justice—a methodical plan for how to tell you about his night job in a way that wouldn’t scare you away. Unfortunately for Matt, he’d been thinking about it so much, he started at the wrong spot of the explanation when he saw you later that night and put his foot in his mouth. But you stayed, you listened. You asked questions that he was happy to answer. You spoke well into the night, and at the end of it all, you didn’t leave; you took his hand in yours and gave it a squeeze, thanking him, and assuring him that his secret was safe with you.
Now, almost a year later, you were still by his side, guarding his secret, waiting up for him, patching up his wounds, protecting his heart, and holding him close. So, this time when sleep evades him, it’s not because of his fears, not because of his traumas, not because of his nightmares. It’s because he is wracking his brain, asking God to help him figure out what he did to deserve you because Matt cannot figure it out for the life of him. He tilts his head to the side of the bed where you’re sound asleep, still holding onto him like that first night together. As he thinks and thinks, he can only settle on the fact that at some point in his life, he must have done something good that made him worthy of you. If he can never figure it out, so be it. As long as you’re in his life, he doesn’t really care. Leaning over to press a long, sweet kiss into your forehead, he snuggles down onto you and pulls you close, letting your scent flood his senses and remind him that he’s safe with you, his heart is safe, and that he’ll never be more loved than by you.
Yeah, he must have done something good.
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Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​
Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters
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Text
|| Stray ||
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Gif by @briefcasejuice - full set here
Matt Murdock x gender neutral reader
Tags/warnings: fluff.
He enters through the living room window, careful to avoid knocking over the array of knick-knacks perched on the windowsill. He has a key of course but he just prefers this way. He knew from blocks away that you were deep in sleep, a smile hooking up his lip when he could hear your little snorts and snores.
His body is remarkably free of hurt and bereft of bruising for once, it had been a rare quiet night. He slides both his mask and shirt off, sitting on the edge of your couch to unlace his boots. He strips down to his black silk shorts, moving quietly on his bare feet as he pads into your kitchen to the fridge. He opens it, feeling along the containers on the shelves. Sure enough he finds there's a braille label that reads 'Matt' on one. He takes out the container, placing it on the counter and opening the lid a crack to investigate its contents. Tomato, garlic, basil, olives and oregano fill his nose before he puts it into the microwave for a few minutes to heat it up. You'd always leave some dinner for him if you thought he'd be out late and he loved you for it. Your pasta was the best.
He sits at the table eating straight out of the tub, more famished after patrol than he realised. He'll wash everything up in the morning but he walks around your apartment picking up and folding your hoodie over the back of the couch and tidying away some other detritus, putting his own clothes in a neat pile before heading to the bathroom to quickly wash and brush his teeth. You always left everything where he can easily find it, including a pack of Tylenol just in case.
When he slides into your bed he smiles softly as your arms immediately seek him out, wrapping around him as you snuggle your warmth into his cooler skin to equilibrate. You reply with a small hum when he kisses your forehead gratefully.
"Thanks for dinner sweetie." He whispers, and you mumble something half incoherent about lizards and he has to really stop himself from laughing at you.
Your fingers sleepily find his and he gently squeezes your hand, kissing the top of your head again.
"You're like a stray." He hears you murmuring into his arm.
"Hm?"
"... someone should adopt you." you continue, and he does let himself chuckle at that.
You feebly shove at his chest, waking up a bit. "M'not joking. Come 'n live with me."
Matt strokes his other hand down your arm, breathing in your sleepy scent. It's true that he could get used to this but you were just babbling.
"Shh, go back to sleep."
He can feel the brush of your eyelashes on his skin. "Matt, I wanna wake up every morning with you here like this."
His heart swells with the thought that you'd really want to take him in.
"What's there to talk 'bout? You don't wanna?"
"Let's talk about it in the morning sweetheart." is what he says.
He hears the small measure of hurt in your grizzly voice as you blink open your eyes in the dark. He puts his hand to the side of your face, thumb smoothing over your cheek. Then he captures your lips, slow and soft.
"Yeah I want to." He assures, and you smile and kiss him back.
"Good. S'settled then." And you nuzzle back close against him. "I love you Matty. I'll keep the sill clear."
Okay, his heart was definitely going to burst.
"Love you too, sweetheart. Thank you."
Matt tags: @saintmurd0ck @mindidjarin @castlesnchurches @peterman-spideyparker @pastafossa @mattmurdocksscars @mattmurdockspainkink @marvelswh0re @munsonownsmyass @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @briefcasejuice @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @e-dubbc11 @father4giveme @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @imperfxctly-me @stress--relief @murnsondock @stupidthoughtsinwriting @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemii @imherefordeanandbones @m0nster-fvcker @creatingjana @echos-muses @lazyxsquirrel @messymissy @evilbubu @chvoswxtch
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devils-dares · 2 years
Note
matty, his wife, foggy and karen playing pool and foggy just complaining at how lovey lovey the reader and matt are being ng because they're just cuddling and she's wrapping his arms around him and kissing him hahah
thanks for your request!
-----
“Is it truly fair to have teams if one of us is… enhanced?” Foggy complains as you laugh, Matt wrapping his arms around you as the two of you win again.
“You’re the one who came up with it in the first place, losers break.” You say, reracking for another round. As Foggy lines up to break, Matt sneaks his arms around you, his chest pressed to your back.
“Hi, lover.” He says, pressing kisses to your jaw.
“Mm, hi.” Laughing, you cover his hands with yours, his lips curving into a smile against your skin. Turning your head, you capture his lips with yours, humming against him.
“So, uh, when are they going to realize that it’s their turn?” Karen says.
“When I’m done kissing my wife.” Matt says, breaking away from you. Shaking your head and smiling, you pick up your pool stick and sink a stripes ball, continuing your turn as you sink another and then miss the third. Handing your pool stick to Karen, you melt back into Matt, the two of you newlyweds not seeming to get enough of each other. His chin ends up resting on the top of your head, the both of you swaying to the music spilling out of Josie’s speakers.
“Matt’s turn.” Karen says.
“Alright, how about I end this all right here and we can start one more round?” Matt says, and Foggy immediately gets up from his seat.
“Nuh uh, you only get a max of two. Make two and your turn is over or else it’s not fair.” That makes a laugh leave you and Karen.
“That seems unfair.”
“You’re… you- it’s totally fair!” Foggy tries to reason and you step in, a hand on your husband’s shoulder.
“I think that’s fair, don’t you, Matty?” You ask.
“Y-yeah, totally fair. Only two, got it.” He stutters through his words.
“Oh come on! All she needed was to put a hand on you?”
“She’s my wife. She just has to tell me.” He says as he lines up for his shot. He sinks two, to no one’s surprise, and surrenders his turn to Foggy. Before he could get his hands on you again, a thud followed by “shit!” makes you look back as Matt snickers.
“Missed it.” Foggy says in a sad voice. You shake your head, grinning at his faux frown.
“Alright angel, we’ve got four to sink.” Matt encourages you as you take aim.
Foggy and Karen watch in horror as you sink one, two, three stripes balls, leaving the 8 ball and you with a wide open shot.
“C’mon bug, you’ve got it.” He puts his hands on your hips, causing you to gasp.
“Just shift your weight a little to the left, there you go!” Foggy is quick to interrupt the moment.
“No coaching, Murdocks!” Matt splits from you and kisses you on your cheek for good luck. You bend back over and take a breath, taking the shot. The 8 ball sinks in clear and Matt cheers.
“That’s it, the Murdocks aren’t allowed on a team together anymore.”
“Don’t hate on us, Fog.” You say, Matt squeezing you tight in a hug as you turn to kiss him, Karen and Foggy’s groans fading in the background as you smile into his lips.
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shiorimakibawrites · 7 months
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Baking with Love
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Last-minute final entry to Mandy's Sweater Weather Challenge presented by @she-likesorchids.
This one uses the prompts - baking/cooking together combined with the "You taste like cinnamon" and "Your hands are freezing."
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader
Word Count: 1,287
Summary: Matt Murdock and You make pumpkin bread and cookies.
Tags/ Warnings: Established Matt / Reader relationship, Tooth-rotting fluff
Tagging: @bellaxgiornata thought you might enjoy some Matty fluff.
Baking with Love
You sighed with relief when you entered Matt’s building. You were very happy to be out of the wind. It hadn’t been a long walk but your cheeks, nose, and ears felt like they had been scrapped raw by the biting wind. Your hands weren’t much better. You had tried to switch your tote between your hands so each got the chance to hide in your pocket but it hadn’t helped much.
The door to Matt’s apartment swung open just as you were about to reach for the knob. Matt, of course, having likely between aware of your approach for at least a block. He did this trick all the time but it still managed to make you jump each time. Judging by the grin on his face, Matt found your reaction just as amusing as he always did.
Along with any other time he sneaked up on you. Which happened a lot. Because in addition to being a lawyer, Matt was also a ninja. You keep threatening to make him wear a bell. Which only made him laugh harder. He is so lucky that he’s cute.
He looked especially cute today. First, he was smiling wide enough for the dimples to come out. That was always going to be adorable. Second, since he was at home and neither of you was planning to go anywhere until later, he hadn’t put on his dark glasses. So you got to see his lovely hazel eyes sparkling with mirth. Third, he was wearing a snuggle sweater.
Cable-knit and dark brown in color, it looked incredibly soft. You hoped you’d get to find out later. There were plans to snuggle together on the couch under the blankets, after the baking was done, but you knew how easily those plans could get disrupted for either lawyer or vigilante reasons.
If the former, you would sigh but accept the situation. Unless it was Burke, Winthrop, & Associates being themselves again. If you had to spent your snuggle time working through another pile of motions that dance right up to the edge of being frivolous from those bastards, you might actually kill someone.
As for the later . . . Daredevil might end up being the last of their worries. You might not have Matt’s fighting skills but you had connections. The benefit of feeding the local vigilantes like the semi-feral cats that they are. You could delegate your vengeance.
You also enjoyed how that sweater clung to those board shoulders and hinted at the solid muscle of his torso. That he had paired with jeans that showed off his perfect ass was just a bonus.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Matt greeted you as he ushered you into his apartment. It was toasty warm in there. You sat down your tote on the bench and flexed your hands. Then winced. It might have been a short walk but it was long enough and air was cold enough to leave your hands stiff and aching.
You did another little startled jump when your hands were engulfed by Matt’s hands. His big, wonderfully warm hands. He started massaging the backs of your hands with his thumbs.
“Your hands are freezing,” he said. “Still can’t find your gloves?”
“No,” you said. And sighed. “I’ll find them eventually. I know they are somewhere in my apartment. They have to be.”
“Not giving up?” he asked, almost casual. As if we weren’t discussing the gloves he had given you for Christmas. The ones you distinctively remembered packing when you put away your fall and winter clothes this spring but were inexplicably missing from the box when you opened it last week.
“No,” you said firmly. “I really like those gloves. I’m not giving up on them.”
You silently prayed that Matt got the message that you weren’t just talking about your gloves.
“Thank you,” he said softly, squeezing your hands and looking a little misty-eyed.
You smiled. Looks like he got it. You squeezed his hands back. “Hey mister, where’s my kiss?”
He laughed as he dropped your hands in favor of cupping your face. His thumbs stroked your cheeks, then he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. It was a slow but thorough kiss. The kind of kiss that soon had your hands gripping his upper arms. That sweater was just as soft as it looked. Definitely going to kill anyone who prevented snuggle time.
The unfortunate need for air meant the kiss had to end. You tried not to pout about that.
Matt kissed your forehead and murmured, “You taste like cinnamon.”
You hummed, then remembered. “The coffee cake has cinnamon in the streusel topping.”
“And you didn’t bring me any?” he asked with a mock pout.
“Sorry but I was running out of space in the tote,” you said. You leaned up and kissed his forehead. “Maybe one of these cold night, Daredevil will come to my apartment looking for a little snack.”
“Maybe he will,” Matt said with a grin. A grin that shifted into something coy. “And afterward, he might also have some cake.”
You felt your face get warm. Along with the first stirrings of arousal. Your voice was a little breathy when you answered, “Sounds like a plan. I look forward to seeing it in action.”
Matt smirked, the cocky smug one. He knew the effect he was having on you. But he let his hands fall away from your face. He stepped to the side of you and reached the tote bag. Curiously weighted it in one hand.
“What’s all in here?”
“Cookbook, mini-loaf pan, cookie sheets, parchment paper, pumpkin puree, apples –”
“I thought we making pumpkin bread?”
“We are but I saw a recipe that I want to try for apple cinnamon oatmeal cookies. Thought that we could make those too.”
“Those do sound good,” Matt said with smile.
You both got to work.
Since the whine of the motor in your hand-mixer, especially at point-blank range, made Matt wince, the butter and sugar would need to be creamed by hand. Since Matt had giant arm muscles and superhero stamina while you didn’t, you gave him that job.
While he did that, you peeled, cored, and chopped apples. Then tossed them with a little lemon juice to prevent them from oxidizing and because it enhanced the favor of the tart apples. You might occasionally gotten distracted by Matt’s . . . everything.
Like that play of muscles under that sweater while he did the creaming.
Or his ass when he had to bend down to retrieve a larger bowl – you had underestimated how big of a bowl you need for the pumpkin bread dough. Which, it seemed to you, happened a lot with pumpkin. At least it wasn’t pumpkin pie. You always seemed to end up with more batter than you had pie shells.
But what caught you eye the most was that sweet, dopey smile that kept returning to his face. This was the most relaxed you had seen Matt in a while. You supported what he did but that didn’t meant you liked seeing him frustrated and stressed.
But the soft, loving look in his eyes after you kissed his forehead and said “I love you” that – that really made your heart flutter. And it was in that moment that you knew you wanted to marry him.
Matt’s predication proved to be accurate. The cookies were delicious. You are definitely adding those to your fall treats, you thought as you snuggled against Matt on the couch. Your predication about the sweater was also accurate. It was wonderfully soft.
“What are we watching, sweetheart?” Matt asked. It was your turn to pick the movie.
“Hocus Pocus.”
Ending Note
They are making the pumpkin bread and cookies for Foggy, Karen, Marci, Claire as well as their circle of vigilante friends – the Defenders, Frank Castle, and Spider-Man.
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