#brb i'm out here making myself cry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

farfromstrange · 1 year

Text

Foreigner's God | m.m

Matt Murdock x avenger!OFC

Chapter thirty-eight: Lavender Haze

series masterlist

Summary: Their first date might have started rocky, but everything goes according to plan after that and for the first time, Eliza and Matt can breathe and enjoy each other's presence in more ways than one.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), Fluff, slight angst, but it's just tooth-rotting, Taylor Swift references to the nines, unprotected p in v (wrap it folks), oral (f!& m!receiving), coming untouched, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, soft dom!Matt, praise kink, cum play, cum eating, breeding kink if you squint, forced orgasm, squirting (bye)

a/n: Um, I said I had a schedule and everything but things keep getting in the way like my birthday on Friday??? Roaring 20s incoming. I’m not ready. I’m probably getting Comic Con tickets for next December from my dad, so that’s fun. Finally some bonding time after my childhood was screwed up and I got daddy issues, but he’s trying ig? I will have officially outrun teen pregnancy on Friday, let’s appreciate that instead.

Wednesdays come before Thursdays, right? And I hate Thursdays. So let’s just keep it that way and enjoy this.

Anyway! Holy shit, this is so cute and hot and I'm so proud of myself for this. The light in this gif might not be lavender, but I incorporated this exact move in the chapter so you know it'll be good. You're welcome.

Brb taking my clothes off for Matty boy...

18+ MINORS DNI

Thursday happens a day before Friday, and Friday is the last day before the weekend, so on Thursdays, the week is pretty much over. Especially students and working people think that way because it makes the week go over faster and gives you something to look forward to – a much-needed break.

Eliza never paid much thought to Thursdays. Any day of the week was a nuisance. Waking up in the morning was incredibly hard and she hated the body she was in. That was until she decided that this was no way to live and Matt Murdock made her feel like the most important person in the world. The only woman, for all eternity. She didn’t need to be anyone else’s favorite as long as he loved her, and life got a little less exhausting with him.

They met on a Thursday. She didn’t remember the day, but she remembered the date and the exact moment she felt his arms around her, trying to stop her from making a mistake. She went ahead anyway. He saved her life that night. Without him, none of the things she accomplished would have been possible. Without him, she would have drowned. She couldn’t have done this alone.

Now here she was on a Thursday, four weeks after all hell broke loose, alive and well, squeezing herself into a burgundy dress she got on Happy’s very generous account. Matt told her that he made reservations at a small, local restaurant, nothing too fancy, but that she should probably wear a dress nonetheless. He wanted to treat her right, and if his wallet had to bleed for that, he would even sell his soul.

The dress she chose was made out of pure silk, wrapping around her frame and tied on the side with a small bow that she tied herself. The sleeves were loose and reached down to her elbow, flowing around with every move. Eyeing herself in the mirror, she suddenly grew self-conscious. The top of the very prominent scar poked out of the rather deep cleavage, and the bra that kept her breasts pushed up enough to give a good picture to anyone watching didn’t distract from the fact that it was there.

She bought expensive lingerie just for him, but as she stared at herself in the mirror, all she wanted was to cry. Repulsive; the first word that came to mind. She hated how she looked in a dress now.

Eliza blinked the tears away, not wanting to destroy her makeup. She put a lot of effort into looking presentable, to make her figure feel good for him, she even applied the perfume he liked on her so much, but none of that mattered because all she wanted to do was tear the burgundy silk off her skin, get out of the lingerie and lock herself away in the closet where no one could see her in the dark.

She considered getting a pair of flowy pants and a dress shirt and call it a day. She could still look fancy with something that wasn’t a dress. But it was silk and he loved silk. She bought everything she had on just for him, even the heels because she wanted to give him a show for his senses. She wanted him to feel her smooth, shaven skin and the way the clothes hugged her figure. She knew Matt was a sucker for everything he could explore with his hands. He couldn’t see her, so this was the least she could do. Besides, she wanted to look good for herself. It had been the plan, anyway, before she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Fuck, she thought. She couldn’t go out like that, and if Matt smelled the unshed tears tangled in her lashes, he would ask what was wrong. She wasn’t even sure why the small top of the scar bothered her so much, but the sight alone had her clenching her fists. She wanted it to be gone so that she wouldn’t have to be remembered anymore, but that was nearly impossible.

She hated her body as much as she hated herself. To think she just started getting better… she worked so hard for what? Just to be thrown back again? She didn’t want to feel so worthless, but the more she thought about everything that was wrong with her, the more she needed to cry. She couldn’t hold it anymore. The first tear rolled. She wiped it away fast, checking if her mascara started to run, but it was still intact. At least something went right.

She hated Thursdays.

The door to the bedroom creaked open. Of course, he heard her. She sometimes forgot how good Matt was at picking up certain clues. His senses were enhanced, after all, but he also knew her well enough to check in on her every once in a while. While it might not have seemed that way to others, this was a big deal for her, and the anxiety wore her thin.

Eliza felt overwhelmed by everything. Going to dinner in a crowded, fancy Manhattan restaurant would only make it worse. At this point, she would have settled for a cheap burger at the diner across the street, or a sandwich from the deli.

Matt leaned against the door frame. “Are you okay?” he asked.

He already knew the answer.

“Yes,” she said. His eyebrows shot up. Quieter this time, she admitted, “No.” Her voice cracked. She lowered her head. His gaze which wasn’t a gaze much rather than a concerned look burned under her skin and her cheeks started to burn from the embarrassed blush.

She got caught up in her insecurities. He would try to pull her out, but she wasn’t sure if that was possible. She was too deep in now.

Still, he was nothing if determined, and perhaps she misjudged his abilities. She underestimated him time and time again.

Matt stepped up behind her. His hand found her shoulders, tracing over the skin of her upper arms before he reached the sleeves. “Silk,” he murmured, “Nice.”

“I made sure you’d be comfortable,” she said.

“That’s nice of you, but that’s not what’s most important tonight. What’s on your mind?” He pulled her hair aside, pressing gentle kisses to the skin of her neck. She sighed.

“Too much.”

“Why were you crying?”

“Do you think that the scar…” Eliza fidgeted with her fingers, toying with the rings and chipping away the black nail polish she applied. He patted the back of her hand, telling her to stop. “Do you think I look repulsive?” she asked him.

He wasn’t sure what the right reaction would have been in a case like this. Her fear seemed so irrational because she was anything but repulsive, he couldn’t take it seriously. But to her, the scar and how it looked to others meant the world. She wasn’t particularly interested in how other people viewed her body, but the scar was a ghastly reminder of darker times, and to have people staring at it would have been even worse. The thought alone felt humiliating enough to make her stomach churn, and she got sick.

Matt’s thumb slid over her shoulder blade. Goosebumps followed in his wake. “What?” he asked. “Why would you ask me that?”

He was the last person to think that way about anyone, especially her.

“Be honest, are you still attracted to me?”

Moving his hands from her shoulders around her waist, he began to trace a finger over the exact spot where the rest of her scar lay covered under the dress. “Honey,” he purred into her ear, “You could never repulse me.”

“I’m serious, Matt.”

“I am, too. That scar…” he stopped at the top, sliding his hand between her breast. He outlined and she watched his every move in the mirror. Something about the sight of his lust-blown eyes and his hand on her chest had her gasp softly.

“It’s proof of all that you survived,” he said. “It’s part of you. If anything, it makes you even more beautiful because it reminds me that you’re still alive. I’ve never been more attracted to you than I am right now, and it’s not just the dress, although it feels so fucking amazing. You amaze me, Eliza, and I want nothing more than to spend an eternity touching you.”

“If you could see it,” she began.

“I don’t care,” his voice grew firmer, “It’s just a scar. Look at me! My entire chest and back are covered in thick lines of scar tissue. Are you repulsed by me?”

She stuttered. “What? Of course not!” That he would even say that was outrageous. “You’re beautiful.”

“Then why hate on yourself?”

“I…” he had a point. She scoffed, turning away from her reflection. “It’s different.”

“Different how?”

“Different because…”

She tried hard to find a reason why her scar wasn’t the same as his – it wasn’t, she was sure of that – but the more she desperately looked into his brown eyes for any sort of agreement in them, she found none.

Eliza looked down at her heels. “Different because it’s me,” she said.

“Sweetheart, no.” He cooed softly as he tilted her head up by the chin. “Stop talking about yourself that way. I know it’s hard to accept your scars – I have trouble accepting mine and I can’t even see them – but they’re there for a reason. They’re a reminder of all that you’ve survived.“

“Exactly!” she cried out, though the sound instantly turned into a whimper when he locked her in place, forced to look into his eyes. “I don’t want to be reminded,” she said, “and I don’t want the people around me to know or fantasize about what happened. I can’t… I don’t want to have other people stare at me because they’ll whisper. They always do.”

And she couldn’t drown them out, no matter how hard she tried.

He licked his lip, eyes soft as he gave her the most understanding look he could muster. He always managed to make her feel comfortable even when she didn’t feel like it.

His thumb stroked her cheekbone. “I’m sorry, baby. I know what it feels like, but that doesn’t make you repulsive. People talk, yes, but they have no right to judge you. Those who do are wrong,” he told her. “And they don’t get to tell you what you’ve been through, what that makes you or who you are.”

“I just…” she nuzzled into his hand, eyes closed to prevent the tears from falling.

He nodded. “I know.”

“I don’t know why I feel this way,” she said. “I just know that I do and it sucks. I hate feeling this way. I hate letting the fear of what other people might think about me influence the way I feel about myself, but I know that as soon as I step into that restaurant, I’m going to ruin the mood because I can always feel them staring even when they’re not. It’s been like this ever since my face first became public in 2012. The whispers…” Eliza shivered and he wiped the lone tear that had slipped from her eyes before it could ruin her makeup. Considerate, he was. “I hate them,” she said. “I just hate it and I hate myself for being self-conscious enough to let it happen. I’m not usually like this, Matt, I promise.”

But Matt only shushed her again with the softest of smiles. “If it’s other people you’re worried about,” he said, “I have an idea.”

He pulled up her dress a little to cover what little he had revealed before, smoothing out the fabric before he stepped away, taking her hand in his.

“Screw the reservation I made. Let’s go somewhere else. Somewhere I’m sure there won't be many people.”

“But Matt, you planned all of this, and I-“

He squeezed her hand, cutting her off with a harsh tug at her arm. Matt tilted her chin up to brush his lips against her. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Yes, but-“

He kissed her to shut her up. “Then let me take you somewhere quiet instead.”

Eliza didn’t deserve him.

The quiet place he mentioned wasn’t all too far from his apartment. From the outside, the Brownstone looked like any other building, but the sign outside read the title of a Chinese proverb.

One generation plants a tree, the next enjoys its shade.

They stopped at the bottom of the steps. “Where are we?” she asked.

Matt grinned like a kid on Christmas Day, knowing and perhaps a little sheepish. “Remember how you told me you don’t like flowers but I could bring you a plant for our first date?” he answered.

“I do remember that.”

“Well, I think you’re gonna love this even more than me just buying you a potted plant.”

“What do you mean?”

He held on tightly to her elbow. “Lead me up the stairs and you’ll see.”

She counted each step they took, five in total, and she held his hand so he wouldn’t stumble. The stairs were steep; he could seriously injure himself if he missed one.

At the door, he let go of her, searching for the handle before opening it for her. “After you,” he said.

Eliza rolled her eyes playfully at his cliché antics.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“Maybe,” she said.

The humid air hit her straight across the face once she stepped through the entrance into the warmth of the building. Every breath felt like a retreat for her lungs, the oxygen pure and untainted. It didn’t smell like fried food or boiled vegetables - the air was clean, void of any unnecessary scents that could cause overstimulation. For a second, she doubted he took them to a restaurant and rather to one of the many public gardens New York had to offer.

Folding his cane and closing the door, Matt stepped in behind her. His hand searched for her rather aimlessly before he found the corner of her silk sleeve, and he wrapped his arm around her bicep to get closer.

Beethoven played from the speakers in the ceiling, Für Elise from the sound of it, and the soft buzzing of the several fairy lights reverberated in his ears. They hung from the ceiling and flowed down the curtains and the poison ivy covered walls like streams of rain, frozen in place. Not many heartbeats could be heard inside, only the faint clanking of porcelain in the kitchen and the breeze of the air conditioning that came from the vents.

The velvet curtains separated the entrance hall from the restaurant itself. Eliza stopped, not being able to see through them, and it had her uneasy. She trusted him, but she didn’t trust the strange place.

His hand on the small of her back urged her forward. Soon enough, he had her shoved through the curtains - they were tinted in the softest lavender shade she had ever seen before. She touched them with her fingertips. It was real velvet, probably expensive too.

Upon their entrance, the song ended, instead replaced by another classical piece of music - she took a moment to recognize the artist, but after the first three notes she realized that it was Tchaikovsky, one of his lesser-known piano pieces.

The inside of the Brownstone appeared as if taken from a fairy tale. There was not an inch of the golden-painted walls that weren’t covered in poison ivy or strings of roses. Whites ones, not red ones. Trees raked from the ground and grew into the ceiling, covering the ancient painting of angels and demons with purely green leaves. Every corner of the room was home to a different kind of plant, mostly those that could easily survive inside a sunless environment. The furniture consisted mostly of pieces made out of natural wood, the colors varying with every table and every chair, and the bar at the far end looked like it was cut from Mahagoni.

The plates and cutlery all had precise paintings of nature on the edges, not perfect but something much rarer. You couldn’t find pieces like this anywhere. Not to speak of the fairy lights and candles that offered the only source of light. Scentless candles burned inside the chandelier, only far enough away not to set the plants on fire, but the engraved glass of the lamp hung low enough so that you could see every detail.

The fairy lights reflected and broke against the glass, projecting little rainbows onto the poison ivy on the walls. Everywhere Eliza looked, another shade of green - another source of light opened up. Her lungs filled with pure oxygen, and the rigorous waves of the ocean in her mind eased up, retreating into a state of calm with only a little wind to disturb her.

Some of the leaves to her right rustled. She gasped when a small butterfly broke out of the confines and continued its way across the room into the next tree.

“This is so beautiful,” she whispered, Matt’s name only a breath on her tongue. “If you could see this place…”

She didn’t know that he had seen it once. The only reason he knew that it existed was that his father took him there on his seventh birthday the first time, and then for two more executive years until he turned nine. It was his last birthday before the accident — before he lost his eyesight forever.

The Chinese restaurant was a small interior garden with an oxygen quality that exceeded the polluted New York air and managed to calm his overworked senses in a way that he would only ever get in a rainforest again. The picture remained, imprinted in his brain. He could never forget the day his father surprised him by taking him there.

As a boxer, Jack Murdock barely made enough to get himself and his son by, but he tried his best. Every once in a while, he would put one or two bills of his win aside and save it for a later time. He would refrain from buying anything for himself to make sure Matt received a gift and dinner for his birthday. On the same day in November every year, Jack Murdock constructed a day that was all about his son, and he gave him everything he could have possibly wanted. And even though it wasn’t much because money was limited, Matt was more than grateful that he got the memories with his father. Playing football in the park, eating ice cream, buying him a cheap toy car, and then going to dinner together - his life before he got blind and his father died had been somewhat normal and every last thing he remembered about that time was happy in one way or another.

Sometimes, when he would set foot into the restaurant now, he thought back to simpler times and how relieved his father had been every time they went there. Only on his birthday had he laughed so much, happy to have Matt in his life, and he made sure he felt that. Ever since his father died though, Matt hated his birthday, and that was one of the reasons why.

He had never actively shared the restaurant with anyone in his life. It was his and his father’s little secret. A happy place they frequented and Matt often went to long after Jack died because he knew the owner and they got along well. He helped her out of legal trouble once when he was still at Landman & Zach, and ever since then, he visited the restaurant once a month to make sure the family that owned the place was alright. And when someone tried to break in, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t so far off and beat the intruders senseless before they could burn down what the kind Mrs. Chao built for herself. Her kids were to inherit the place someday - it was a family legacy. He had to make sure it stayed that way.

He was afraid that if he showed this childhood memory to anyone, he would get pitied again. He was afraid that his bubble would burst as soon as he introduced his present to the past and then it wouldn’t be just his memory anymore. It would become a widely known fact.

Taking Eliza there had been a last-minute decision, but weirdly enough, when they stepped in, Matt no longer cared about the fact that this was a memory he and his father shared and that his childhood was his to keep, no one else’s; he wanted her to know. He wanted to show her where he came from, and he wanted to share the happiness with her.

He knew how relaxing the colors could be and how the pure oxygen made breathing a little easier. It offered an escape. The entire place was so beautiful, looking at it appeared like a fever dream. The lights worked their magic to get you into a dreamy mindset. The more you gazed around, the more the enchanted forest bewitched you.

Mrs. Chao greeted Matt like she would an old friend. She nodded knowingly at the girl, then pointed to a table in the back. He nodded. “Table in the back would be nice,” he said.

She guided them there, but Eliza was lost in another world. She had been to many enchanted places before and had seen rainforests and castles covered in gold, but the restaurant was beautiful in a whole different way. It was pure, not manipulated.

Matt listened to her elevated heartbeat, the clear sign of adoration in the way she sighed ever so often at the sight of a new plant, and her fingers raking over the leaves closest to their table. She shook her head.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“Like it? This is… I’m so overwhelmed right now,” she said.

“In a good or a bad way?”

“I love it, Matt. This place is so beautiful.”

And it was more than quiet. No curious stares, only them and a few couples on the other end of the room, but the wall and the plants protected them from being seen.

He smiled. “Just like you.”

“What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Her heart jumped.

“And you’re more than perfect to me.”

“Oh, screw you!” Eliza gave a broken laugh. She could already taste the salt on her tongue. “Why do you have to be so fucking adorable?” she said, wiping her cheeks. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Matt shrugged. “You’re you and that’s more than enough.”

“Fuck. I just… I love you.”

“I know you do,” he took her hand from across the table, “And I love you too.”

The pocket of his suit jacket suddenly weighed more than a hundred pounds. She kissed his scarred knuckles, but he barely felt it. The nerves had him bordering on insanity. He managed to hold off for the past day, not once hinting at what he bought, but as she sat before him now, he couldn’t control the nauseating feeling of anxiety that got him shaking on the edge of his seat.

Eliza swallowed the lump in her throat to tell him what she struggled most with expressing. Words were never enough, she wanted to show him somehow, but as incompetent as she was with emotions, that seemed impossible. She didn’t know anything. At twenty-three she was even more clueless than she was at eighteen when Natasha saved her from hell. She was useless when it came to relationships.

“Thank you for staying,” she murmured. “I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t wait for me.”

She told him he didn’t have to, but it was a blatant lie she told herself. If he had told her that he didn’t love her anymore, it would have torn her apart. She wouldn’t have survived him leaving for good, even after telling him to. Why did no one tell her how twisted that had been?

“And thank you for not giving up on me, Matthew. Really, I- okay, you were the only one who didn’t give up on me, even when I did, and if you hadn’t done that, I’m sure the universe would have found a way to eradicate me.”

He shook his head, softly turning her hand so that her palm pointed toward the ceiling. “If you love someone, you’d do anything not to lose them,” he told her, “and I’d be an idiot if I ever gave up on you, not when you are the one person I love and need the most in this entire, god-forsaken world. God failed me,” he said, “But you’re here, and it makes me think that maybe the lord does have funny ways of showing he cares. You were my sign. You screwed up but so did I. We both hurt each other. That’s human nature. We might be slightly toxic, but that doesn’t make me want you any less. If anything, it makes me want to try and be better with you. Just the two of us, together. The way things are supposed to be. Why else would we have found back together if not to actually be together?”

“The odds were never in our favor,” she said.

“Yeah, but we beat the odds. Can’t say that about just anyone.”

“I always thought I was never meant to love anyone…” Eliza trailed off, her voice dangerously close to breaking, and the tears once again pricked at the corner of her eyes. She blew raspberries, trying to hold off the inevitable. She was so in love, it made her emotional.

Matt smiled at her, his teeth showing with how giddy he looked. “What happened?” he asked.

“You did,” she returned his smile, “It’s always you.”

And it would be always him.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

He finally reached into his pocket. His cheeks displayed the faintest of blushes. A sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. He struggled to reach what he was searching for.

Her eyes narrowed. “Matthew,” her tone took on a warning tinge.

He retrieved the small box, placing it into her palm. Her fist closed around it, eyes wide as she stared at him, and she wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking at.

“Relax,” he told her, “it’s not a ring.”

“Oh, thank God!” She exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

Matt nodded toward the box. “Open it.” He played with his dress pants. “There’s no reason for you to worry, I promise.”

He was worried though, worried she might not like it.

“I saw it and I thought of you, so I had to buy it.”

“Here’s the thing,” Eliza began, reaching for her purse, “You’re not the only one who had that thought.”

She pulled out a box the size of the one he got her, though hers matched the burgundy of her dress. She placed it into his open hand, closing his fist around it and urging him to open it.

He stuttered, tracing his fingers over the velvety material. “Are you kidding me?” There was no bow, but the box had an easy clasp he could open with one pull.

Eliza made her gift accessible enough for him and he wanted nothing more than to scold her for even buying him something in the first place, but he couldn’t, not when he could imagine her innocent look and the nervous biting of her bottom lip.

Awkwardly, she chuckled. “I was shopping for a dress with Happy – and his credit card – and I saw it in one of the shop windows, and I couldn’t help myself,” she said.

“You actually got me something?” He stroked over the velvet again.

“Yeah.”

“So I worried for no reason?”

“I mean, I’m not sure if you’re gonna like it…” she shrugged. “I just thought it was cute.”

“You know whatever it is you bought me, I can’t see it anyway, right?”

She kicked him and he laughed, his nervosity beginning to fade. “It’s not something you have to see to enjoy,” she said.

“What is it?”

“Open it.”

“You first.”

“What is it with you and this box?” Finally, she managed to get the bow off. Her heart sped up the closer she got to opening it.

Matt fidgeted with the box that held his gift. His knee bounced. Agonizingly slow, Eliza opened the clasp and took a look inside the dark confines. What he bought her laid splayed out on a white cushion, golden and thin, and the pendant itself had the form of a puzzle piece.

She didn’t speak for a whole thirty seconds. He doubted she even breathed. Eventually, she gasped, and her hand reached for the necklace inside the box.

“Oh, my God,” she choked, “This is…” She couldn’t find the words to describe it.

He had bought her a necklace with a small pendant the shape and size of a tiny puzzle piece that held three tiny dots filled with amethyst, two in a row and one below, and on top of that the letter M was engraved. Eliza didn’t know much about Braille, but the alphabet wasn’t all too hard, so she recognized the series in which the crystals were aligned.

“Why’d you do that?” Her lip quivered and soon enough, a tear slipped past her red-tinted lips, into her mouth. “Now you made me cry.”

This was not the reaction he expected. “I’m sorry,” said Matt, but the smile that adorned his face told her that he wasn’t sorry. He enjoyed the fact that she liked it enough to cry. It was a compliment.

She sniffled, searching for the clasp before slipping the necklace around her throat and closing it at the back. It aligned perfectly with the necklace Natasha gave her, but she doubted that was intentional.

“Amethyst is meant to-”

She cut him off, “Protect the people you gift it to, yes. It’s a protecting crystal, just like hematite. I know.”

“Well, the jeweler I got this from had a sale and he was about to throw it out because he doesn’t sell many Braille necklaces, so I asked him if he could engrave it one more time and I’d take it for the original price.”

“And you took it,” she concluded.

“I took it,” he said, “Because I figured it was a sign that M was the only letter he had left.”

“I love it.” Eliza hugged the pendant close to her chest. “I will never take it off again.”

“Maybe you should while showering, I’m not sure if it’s real gold.”

“I don’t care if it stains me green, I’m not taking it off. You got me that so I’m not letting it out of my sight.“

She was a very serious person when it came to gifts.

He could only imagine her pout. “That’s fine by me,” he said and started undoing the clasp on the box she got him.

Matt popped the cap open. Unlike her, he had to feel first before he could give an appropriate reaction. He could tell it was metal, too, alone from the smell of it. He felt around the soft inside until he reached the object.

A round pendant attached to a chain, a broader one than the one she wore. The silver – gold felt much different, even fake one; it was much heavier than silver – was kept thin so it wouldn’t disturb his skin too much, and she made sure not to use any cheap material that could stain or be itchy to him. He took it out, analyzing the surface. That was when he felt it.

His chin tilted up, his mind processing the letters he felt. Small dots spread over the metal, bulging in a frequency that formed a sentence.

He scoffed, “You did not.”

“Yeah, I guess we both had the same kind of luck. Jewelers selling Braille necklaces. Except mine wasn’t on sale.”

The necklace spelled:

I love you

- E.

In the letters of the Braille alphabet.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked jewelry that isn’t your cross necklace, but I saw it and I had to buy it,” she said. “I made them add the E because I wanted you to know that it was from me, not some random person, so if anything ever happened to me you’d have something to hold onto, to remind you of how I felt about you. Or if we ever hit a rough patch you can look at me and know that I love you. It’s… it’s a promise necklace.”

Matt raised his hand, shushing her. “Don’t say that,” he said. “You’re gonna make me cry too.”

“We know how fast things can change, Matthew, especially with the way we’re living, and proving my love to you is something that I want to do in all the ways I can. I want you to know that I accept you, all of you. You should have a piece of me with you always so you know I support you in everything you do. I choose you, ragged edges and all.” She leaned in, lowered her voice, and added, “Daredevil and Matt Murdock. I choose you both.”

“Okay, fuck it!” He expertly closed the clasp of the necklace, then pulled at her arm to get her to the other side. “C’mere.”

She ended up on the chair next to him and he didn’t waste a second smashing his lips into hers. Holding her face with both of his large hands, there was no more space between them. He had full control over her.

The softest moan got stuck in her throat when he started to nibble at her bottom lip. Matt pulled away only hesitantly, clasping his hand over her mouth.

“Shh,” he cooed, “not so loud, sweetheart. You’re gonna attract everyone’s attention.”

As Eliza leaned her forehead against his shoulder, he buried his nose in her hair, pressing another gentle kiss to her scalp.

She tugged at the necklace she bought him, pulling him further down until she could reach his ear. Licking her lips made enough sound for him to hear the pull of saliva off her skin and how she still smelled of the coffee they had for lunch.

Between the heartwarming gifts and the atmosphere of the oxygen-rich environment, he forgot how much of a tease she could be. Rather forcefully, she grabbed his hand and brought it between her legs, under the silk dress, and right onto the waistband of her underwear.

He sucked in a sharp breath. He could feel the lace that slowly turned into silk around her crotch. A high-waisted thong. The more he traced the lines, the clearer the picture in his mind was painted. Once again, he could only growl when she bucked her hips into his wandering fingers over her covered clit.

Matt chuckled, his voice slightly husky and thick with arousal. He tried to keep the blood in his head, but he was this close to getting an erection in a very public space. “Did you buy that for me too?” he asked.

She nodded, head still pressed against his shoulder. “I have more,” she said, using the closeness to bite his earlobe gently and fast, making sure no one saw the way he bowed forward to stop himself from moaning.

He followed with the guidance of her hand down her upper thigh. He didn’t miss the elastic attached to the panties with a thin string.

“Oh, fuck me!” He curled his fist around the fabric and tugged hard enough to let it snap against her skin. “Did you plan this?”

“If you could only feel the bra I’m wearing…” she let out a prolonged sigh. “It’s see-through, made out of lace and the straps are pure silk,” she moaned. “God, you have no idea how good it feels.”

“Eliza,” he warned.

“What?” She blinked innocently with her dark lashes.

Matt bared his teeth. “Stop.”

“If you insist, Matthew.”

His hand slipped from her thigh and she returned to her chair on the opposite side of the table. “Well,” Eliza said then, “Should we eat?”

His mouth hung wide open. She had grabbed the menu halfway through her sentence and now flipped through the pages as if she hadn’t just turned him on like it was nothing.

“How about sushi?”

“I know what I want to eat,” he stated, “and it’s not on this menu.”

His cock rested painfully hard against the inside of his thigh. He tried not to think about it or reach his hand out to relieve some of the pressure – pulling her into the bathroom was no option.

She couldn’t see his eyes, but she suspected they were dark and full of lust, the brown more dominant as his sightless glossed over with the sexiest sheen of arousal.

“And I want sushi,” she told him, deep down proud of herself for how far she got him – her plan was in full motion.

He huffed, fist clenching in his lap. The other played with the glass of water on the table, courtesy of the owner. When she asked them for drinks, he declined and told her to bring them some water instead. He would refrain from drinking alcohol in her presence, not sure if it would be triggering. She didn’t talk much about the process with him, but he knew that if he started abusing alcohol with her around, she might get the same idea again.

He brushed the thought off. It was their first normal night out together as a couple and he didn’t want to worry about her too much. Nothing else mattered but her. Everything that happened in the past would remain there for the foreseeable future.

The waiter came soon enough, breaking the sexual tension in two when she asked, “What can I get you two?”

Matt was about to utter his regular order when Eliza opened her mouth to say the same thing.

They spoke at the same time, “The fried sushi plate.”

She blinked at him. “How did you-“

“It’s my regular, how did you-“

“I love fried sushi,” she stated. “The question is, why did I not know you liked sushi?”

“Because I never talked about it. I didn’t know that about you either. I mean, picky vegetarian eater… sushi wasn’t the first thing that came to my mind.”

“Well, you know now, so you can take me out for sushi more often.”

“I noted that, thank you.”

“Should I just bring one big plate then?” the waiter intercepted. “For you guys to share?”

Matt nodded. “That would be nice.”

They knew hardly anything about each other, they realized. They shared their deepest, darkest secrets but when it came to the easiest pieces of information, they were like strangers to each other.

The entire time they ate their food was spent in silence. Eliza’s eyes traveled around the room, following the path of the fairy lights and the endless vines of poison ivy, an extraordinary piece of decoration. The light broke on the chandelier again, projecting the rainbow onto her plate and making the vines next to her head appear like a kaleidoscope of nature.

Her lips parted in a sigh that sounded much more like contentment than it would have if they had chosen to eat at one of the expensive restaurants in downtown Manhattan. It was quiet and she was happy where they were. Nowhere else could they have been granted so much privacy, and the sight was truly phenomenal.

“God,” she said, “I wish I could make you see this right now. If we weren’t in public, I would. It’s so beautiful, Matt. With all the lights and the different kinds of plants, I… I’ve never been to such an enticing place before, let alone have eaten in one.”

An enchanted forest inside of a Chinese restaurant. It sounded like something many tourists would frequent, but there was no one there but them. The peace felt almost illegal, getting to enjoy such a beautiful sight as if they were the only people on earth with no one to disturb them.

Matt chuckled, placing his chopsticks on the now-empty plate. He crossed his hands. “Describe it to me,” he said.

“What?”

“Describe what it looks like in here. I want to see the world from your eyes.”

She got up to sit beside him again, this time all innocent when she leaned into him and began to point out every last detail that caught her attention in the best way possible.

“The walls on our right are painted in old gold, covered by strings of poison ivy. It’s growing wildly and entangled with fairy lights that hang from the ceiling like curtains. They shine a soft yellow light that, mixed with the green, offers a serene atmosphere that’s neither too light nor too dark, and it’s not too colorful either. Just enough to be easy on the eyes…”

Eliza turned to the right where the tree grew from the floor into the ceiling.

“There’s an oak tree on our side,” she told him. “Branches and leaves decorating what’s left of the gold and covering it. The fairy lights are here too. And the empty corners are adorned by different kinds of green plants, like Monstera deliciosa, there’s also a small growth of bamboo in the far right corner, Cast Iron plants, Rubber Plants and there is a small fountain that holds water lilies.”

“Water lilies?” he asked, “Really?”

She nodded. “Have I mentioned the roses that cover the wall of the bar that is made out of the darkest Mahagoni? And our tables,” she guided his hand over the natural material, “It’s wood of the purest kind. They sanded it down, obviously, but nothing else has been done to the furniture. It’s amazing, Matthew. And the chandelier… God, the chandelier. It’s completely made out of glass with little candle holders, and the glass is engraved with all these native Chinese paintings. The same ones are on the porcelain, but it looks different on each one because it was hand-made. The engravings are so precise, I wonder which artist made the chandelier. I would love to have a chat with them about their amazing art.”

“Sounds wonderful,” though as Matt said that, his focus was on something other than the restaurant. He listened to her heartbeat and the excitement in her voice, the smile on her face, and the mental picture of her eyes sparkling with the yellow of the fairy lights.

She was beautiful.

“What if I told you that I simply asked you so that I could hear your voice?”

She frowned at him, subconsciously toying with her necklace. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I know what it looks like in here. I saw it, a long time ago,” he said. “My father… He took me here for my birthday every year since I turned seven. The accident happened about two months after my ninth birthday, so I remember vividly what the interior looks like, even though it’s been years.”

“Oh, Matthew, I’m so sorry.”

“The owner and I are acquainted with each other. I help her out every once in a while. After my father died, I didn’t feel very comfortable taking anyone back here, you know?” Matt paused to chuckle, a bitter sound in the light-hearted atmosphere of the room. He cut right through it, tearing her heart in two with the pain that displayed on his face even without seeing his eyes behind the glasses.

Eliza took his hand, squeezing it in an attempt to tell him that she was there for him. She cursed herself for not connecting the dots sooner. He took her to the place he connected his childhood with to make her feel more comfortable. It was the most selfless thing anyone could have possibly done for her.

“I came here often, but always on my own. I don’t like to be asked how I know this place or the pitiful glances I get whenever I tell them the truth. The tragically blinded kid who lost his father and grew up in an orphanage because no one else wanted him. It’s… I don’t know, it’s not something you like to tell people, I guess, so I used this place to find some peace amongst all the noise and the smell. Almost like the flower shop that sells those Anemone bouquets, except that here, the world doesn’t exist. It’s my little bubble of safety, and it used to be my and my dad’s little key to happiness. It was our secret hideout.”

“If I had known, Matt,” she said, “I wouldn’t have agreed to this.”

He placed a finger on her lips. “I wanted to take you here,” he said, “because it was the first place I thought of when I could tell you were uncomfortable and I think… you’re the first person I’ve ever taken here since my dad died and somehow it doesn’t even bother me. It feels normal, like you belong here too, not just me. My world opened up and let you in and you’re a part of it now, so you’re a part of everything inside of that world too. I love you, Eliza, and I want you to be a part of my life, all of it, not just the broken parts.”

“I love you too.” She took his hand, pressing a kiss to each fingertip, the gentlest of promises whispered without using actual words to voice what she meant, and he understood.

Matt cradled her cheek and guided her to kiss him, slow, sensual and passionate, a loving kiss shared between two people who had been without hope for so long and finally found their forever home in the aftermath of destruction. Their lives fell apart, but they got back on their feet and crawled back to each other. Broken and bruised they opened their arms and finally came home. They survived the war, they survived the worst of the worst, and now it was just them against the world - because if you survive what these two went through, there is nothing you can’t conquer with the person you love.

He breathed her in like the air around them. “Let’s get the bill,” he said.

Her eagerness barely surprised him. She nodded, “Okay.”

Matt tipped generously, using what little money he had left in his pocket to pay his thanks to the chef. He waved goodbye to Mrs. Chao and then they stepped outside again, the polluted New York air hitting them like a brick after spending so much time in one of the cleanest places in the city.

A car honked, the motor howling as the exhaust spurted into the air. They shared a look. Eliza snorted, starting to laugh, and he soon joined in.

Ice cream was on his schedule next. He promised to spoil her and he made true to that promise. He got a vanilla cone while she got chocolate and hand in hand the couple made their way down the darkened street of one of Hell’s Kitchen’s few parks. Only the faint buzzing of the street lights above them told him that they weren’t entirely lulled in darkness.

“I love New York,” she said upon seeing the faintest outline of a star in the night sky. “No matter how dirty it is, the city owns my heart. And sometimes, if you look closely enough, you can see the world beyond it.”

He hummed in approval, switching her cone for his momentarily to taste and she did the same with his. It didn’t taste artificial like most vanilla flavors. She took another lick, enjoying how the cold felt on her heated tongue.

Matt raised his eyebrows. “Do you want it?” he asked.

“What?” she blinked innocently. “Oh, no. This is your ice cream. I wouldn’t want to…”

Of course, she wanted it. If she had known beforehand, she would have chosen vanilla too, not chocolate.

He smiled. “Take it.”

“Thank you.”

She was so eager, the entire thing was gone in a matter of two minutes. He could only chuckle when she wiped her mouth with a tissue and moaned, “God, that was so good!”

“Glad you enjoyed yourself, sweetheart.”

“Are you kidding me? This was amazing. Not just the ice cream,” she clarified, “But the entire night. It was perfect, Matt.” She stopped, pressing her lips to his stubbled cheek. “Thank you, so much.”

He slurped up what was left of the chocolate ice cream before discarding the cone into the trash. Tonight, he couldn’t stand the crunching.

Taking her hand, he pulled her down the street with him. “We’re not done yet,” he said.

“Wait, what? OH!” She squealed.

Not the sprinklers.

It was that time of night when the remote sprinkler systems started wetting the grass to keep it nice and wet over the hot summer night. They turned on just as they started to walk by. Eliza tried to fight back, but Matt already had her pulled under the stream. She squealed again, louder this time, the cold water soaking her dress almost instantly, and her hair already started to stick to her forehead. Not to speak of the makeup running down her face.

“You are an awful person!” But she laughed anyway.

Another sprinkler turned on right next to her and aimed straight at her face. She ducked, running into Matt who simply pulled her into him.

“Look at us!” she said. “We’re getting soaked.”

“You said you don’t mind the rain with me,” he said.

“Sprinklers don’t count as rain!”

“In my book, they do.”

“What kind of book are you reading? ‘Cause, we’re definitely not sharing the same one.”

He wiped his wet face underneath the glasses he somehow still hadn’t taken off. With a scoff, she pulled them off his face. He shook his hair out of his face, using the newfound freedom to clean his lashes off the excess water. It was of no use, the sprinklers just kept raining down on them.

Once so ready to flee, Eliza kept her hands on his upper arms, staring into his endless brown eyes. The love and adoration she had for him were suffocating but in the best way possible.

Matt’s lips found hers as if she had been lost his entire life and he finally found her again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the sheer eternal connection.

The lights along the path that went through the park met the streams of artificial rain in purple shades, hulling them in a lavender haze that grew around them like a castle. The curtain kept them hidden from the world, shining down on them in the same explosion of color shades as the Billboard outside his apartment would. Though it was just lavender this time, no other color was anywhere in sight. Purple through and through, just the two of them, together.

“Dance with me,” he breathed.

She chuckled. “But there is no music.”

“We don’t need music to dance.”

“But that’s not the definition of dancing.”

“Would you shut your mouth?” He swallowed her next sounds with his mouth. “You’re so annoying,” he said between kisses, “You’re making me furious.”

“Doesn’t feel like you’re furious,” she said.

“Oh, I am. But I��m also very happy right now.”

He twirled her around her axis before pulling her back in. She giggled. His hands were hot on her clammy, wet skin. The silk stuck to her body like glue. Every time he turned her, the fabric slapped against her skin.

At the last pirouette, she pulled against him. He stumbled and tumbled into her arms. Eliza used that to her advantage and kissed him with all she had to give, standing on her tiptoes and hugging him close to her. The sprinklers were still going strong, but she tuned them out.

The sight of Matt in lavender lighting was truly a beautiful one, much more beautiful than the enchanted forest they came out of.

“You wanna go home?” she asked.

He sighed against her warm lips. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

They barely made it through the door before his lips were on hers. He kicked the door closed with his foot, tossed the key into the bowl next to it, and used the other hand to tangle in her hair, pulling her closer.

Her back hit the wall, his hand sufficing as a barricade from getting injured on the bricks. She raked her nails over his chest, up to his shoulders until his suit jacket slipped off and landed on the floor. His tie followed.

He tried hard to stay in control, but her strength outmatched him, and when she pushed him, he followed. He fell back into the couch, legs spread wide as she seated herself on his lap, resuming her kisses along his neck before moving back to his swollen lips.

Matt grabbed her face to have at least some say about where this was going and she let him shove his tongue down her throat. She tangled her hands in his brown air, searching for something to hold onto. In return, his hands slid from her thighs to her ass, giving a gentle squeeze, and moved on to her waist where he held her closer than ever. At the same time though, he tried to stop her from grinding on him too much - this was going to end way too soon with how worked up he was if she kept moving her hips so desperately against his.

Her lips pressed gentle kisses to his cheeks and eyes, nothing like the fiery mouth-to-mouth kisses they previously shared. Eliza tried to regain some of the oxygen she lost; he was breathing just as heavily, eyes fluttering close at the soft touches she left on him. Her hands would stay imprinted forever, he thought. He could feel her everywhere at the same time.

The continuous movement managed to ride her dress up enough to reveal the garter belt she wore on both sides and when his hands brushed the rubber, he growled. “What color is it?” he asked.

His finger dug into the soft flesh of her thigh and she sighed, matching the sound of his voice with a soft moan, “Red,” she said. “Burgundy.”

“And the dress?” His hands traveled under the silky skirt, tracing over the lace underwear where it nestled perfectly between her ass cheeks and upon her waist. He let the band snap against her skin. “Is it red too?”

She jolted. “Yes.”

“You thought about this when you bought it, didn’t you?”

Instead of answering right away, Eliza guided one of his hands to the bow that kept her dress wrapped around her body. It was a gift waiting to be unpacked. He choked on nothing but air, the broken moan that bubbled up in his throat swallowed by the flush of arousal that suffocated him from how red he had gotten.

She leaned down against his ear. “Why else would I have bought it if not for you to fuck me in it?”

The rational center of his brain shut off. His hand gripped her ass cheek firmer, pulling her up until her legs wrapped around his waist and he hoisted her up into his arms. She giggled. Matt made his way into the bedroom, almost forgetting that the armchair stood in his path. He stepped aside just in time before they would have both fallen, which made her laugh even more.

“I get the feeling you forget that you’re blind sometimes,” she said.

“I know where my furniture stands,” he snapped. He was way too eager to be making jokes.

She giggled again. “I doubt that applies when you think about fucking me. Oh!”

He threw her on the bed. She bounced off the mattress slightly, his lips back on hers in no time as he covered her body with his. Her leg wrapped around his hip to push him further against where she needed him most. His hand traveled under her dress again, the other stroking rather lovingly through her messy hair while he kissed her with a different intensity. The heat from before was still there, but the flame seemed tamed now. Like he wanted to spend hours kissing her, feeling her with his fingers, and painting picture after picture in his mind. There was no rush, they had all the time in the world, and he wanted to use it.

“Matthew,” she breathed against his lips, “Do you want to undress me?”

“If you’re ready for that,” he said.

His eyes opened to point down at her. She traced his features with her index finger. “I want this,” said Eliza. “Even though it might be a bit more complicated now, I want to try. I want you. I’ve been thinking about nothing else for the past few days, wanting to feel you again. Not just in my mouth but inside of me, marking me, making me yours. I want this.”

Matt ground his teeth. “Fuck, sweetie! You are so good with your words, it’s insane.”

“Please, Matthew, help me take this dress off.”

He got up on his knees, allowing her to slip out underneath him and stand at the edge of the bed. He moved, sitting down right before her, hands on either side of her hips. She stood between his spread thighs, looking down at him with blown eyes and her lipstick smeared anywhere but her lips. He even had some stains on his white shirt, but neither of them cared enough to do something about it.

Slowly, he pulled at the bow that held the burgundy silk together. It opened, leaving behind a small button to assure that she wouldn’t lose the dress if the belt ever failed to hold it up. He only flicked his fingers once before the fabric slipped open and off her shoulders, onto the floor. The cold air of the apartment had the hairs on her body standing up and she gasped at the feeling on her almost exposed nipples. She wanted to cross her arms over her body, suddenly so exposed and insecure about what he might think, but he left her no space to move.

He started at her calves, feeling the smooth skin and missing hairs - which he didn’t really care about, but it felt nice nonetheless - then moved on her thighs. His fingers traced the garter belt that was attached to her underwear, playing with the rubber a few times before he continued to the pair of lace panties she hid under her dress all this time. He kissed her stomach, licking a long stripe over the scar she was so insecure about, kissing over her naval some more.

She gasped, holding onto his hair. He played with her nerves one by one, surely driving her insane. A firm slap against her ass made her cry out, bucking her hips and therefore her stomach further into his mouth. He grunted greedily, sucking at her hip bone until he felt the blood pool under his tongue.

Her hand flew his shoulder in an instant when he dipped his head between her legs and pressed a firm kiss to her covered cunt. The hand that was already tangled in his hair held on tighter. He licked over the silk covering her crotch, tasting her without even trying, and moaned against her clit.

“Fuck.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that again,” he said.

“But you haven’t even-” she had to pause to let out a soft moan, his lips attacking her core with newfound enthusiasm, making out with her folds, and the fabric between him and the most sensitive part of her managed to produce enough friction to make her feel the shocks of electricity in her lower stomach. The sensation was much weaker than before, but he knew what he was doing, and with every kiss to her clit, the scent of her arousal became clearer. “Fuck, you haven’t even touched the rest of me,” she finished her sentence.

Matt hesitantly pulled away, attempting to look up at her through hooded eyes and full, black lashes. “I’m trying to pay some much-needed attention to my girl, would you let me do that?” His lips ghosted over the waistband of the panties. “Someone’s been a bit neglected in the past couple of days. I have to make up for that.”

He cupped her pussy.

With someone he didn’t just mean her, he meant what was sitting between her legs.

“Man, she must be aching to be touched.”

She was. Eliza was, and the rest of her too. She needed to be set on fire by his touch. It was necessary for her to feel human again. She wished she could make him see this, see her again, but she would only ruin things.

She almost completely lost it when his hands finally reached her aching nipples, the lace of the bra barely covering her breasts. The fabric was see-through, the band made out of red silk, and on top of the cups, two bows held the straps together. He wasted no time tugging at her nipples through the thin layer of silk, pulling her toward him before squeezing both breasts hard between his calloused hands. She chose the right fabric, indeed.

“Fuck, you’re being so good to me,” Matt murmured into the skin of her abdomen, “and I’ve been nothing but selfish. Having you suck my dick almost every day, but I’ve never even touched you the way you deserve. I’m a terrible boyfriend.”

Eliza pushed at his forehead to bring him back, staring into his eyes with a look of bewilderment in her own. “Matthew, that’s not true,” she said.

“Yes, it is. I have to change that.” Reaching behind her, he searched for the bra clasp. “Good girls deserve to be rewarded.”

The piece of lingerie snapped open. She gasped at how easy he made it look. The bra fell off her shoulders and he discarded it into a random corner of the room.

“As much as I like what you got for me, it’s in the way.”

And with that, the panties were detached from the garter belt as well and fell to the floor in soundless excitement.

“And you’re keeping that one.” He snapped the rubber again. “It’s so incredibly sexy, I just want you to wear that every day, even at work so I can snap it against your skin as I bend you over my desk and fuck you like the dirty little whore you are.”

He didn’t even give her time to step out of her panties before his head returned to its previous position between her legs.

“Oh…” Eliza gasped at the hot contact. “God, fuck!”

He lapped at the folds of her cunt, parting them with his tongue as he always did. He licked a long stripe from her entrance to the top, then back down and up again until he finally reached her clit and wrapped his lips around the nerve endings. He sucked the bundle into his mouth, kissing and nibbling until it was swollen and red and she was breathless atop of him.

Keeping her upright with one arm around her hips, he kneaded at her upper thigh with the other. The tip of his tongue unsheathed her clit when he finally released it, drawing circles directly on the sensitive nub and she cried out again.

No matter how good it felt, her orgasm seemed worlds away.

She bucked her hips into his mouth again. He sucked, the motion filling the room with an obscene slurping, and she realized he managed to get her wet with just a few kisses to her cunt already, but that was about it. Still, he didn’t stress, he kept doing exactly what he started with, and the repeated motion and attention to detail of his tongue had her legs shaking soon enough. The immense pleasure he pulled out of her made her wish she could be lying down instead. But perhaps he knew something that she didn’t about this particular position. She certainly didn’t know much about sex. She couldn’t judge.

Eliza cursed herself for thinking too much. “This might take a while,” she said.

He chuckled, the vibrations sending a thrill down her spine. “And what’s so bad about that?” he asked.

“I want to… fuck, I want to cum, but I can’t.”

“That’s okay.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t know if I can… If I can ever…”

“Yet.”

His mouth was gone, suddenly, and then his back laid flat against the mattress, pulling her with him until her legs were on either side of his head and his hands rested on her ass fully. He gave the cheeks a gentle squeeze, feeling how her flesh jiggled with his ruthless grip.

“Let’s try this again,” he said, his breath hot against her wetness. “You’re going to show me exactly what it takes to make you cum and if I have to lie here for hours, I will gladly keep licking at your pussy until you do.”

She blushed so deeply, her cheeks resembled the red of her discarded dress. “Matthew,” she whined, “I can’t.”

He tugged at the garter belt. So that was why he wanted her to wear it. He wanted to have something to pull her like a dog on a leash.

Fuck. This shouldn’t have turned her on the way it did.

“This is the only way you can control what you need,” he explained. “The only position that allows you to experiment with your movements in a way that will make sure you cum first. I’m not stopping before that, even if the overstimulation kills me.”

He tugged at the rubber again. She moaned. “Matthew, I don’t know,” her voice bordered on a pathetic cry. “I don’t know if I can,” she said.

“You did it before, do it again. Don’t be shy now, sit on my face.”

“No, I don’t want you to… it’s uncomfortable.”

“For you?”

“No, for you.”

Matt’s chest rumbled as he laughed. “Sweetheart, I’m anything but uncomfortable, now stop fucking hovering and sit down.” He smacked her ass. She didn’t comply. “You’re not sitting,” he stated.

“Isn’t that enough?” she asked, her voice quiet and throat tight from the pure embarrassment that came from the position.

“If I have to move even just an inch to wrap my lips around your clit, you’re not sitting, you’re just kneeling over my head. Now stop being a brat,” he said, pulling her down on his lips with one harsh tug of her garter belt, “And make yourself cum on my tongue like the good girl I know you are. Use me.”

She kept herself steady with a hand in his hair, the only clinging onto the silk sheets for dear life as his tongue went to work and, even though she was more than shy about the whole thing, she started to move in time with his thrusts until his kisses met her cunt at the right angle.

“Right there?” he asked before she could say it.

With her bottom lip between her teeth, she nodded. Her chest and cheeks already flushed hot red from the need coursing through her veins. He was in her blood stream now, so close yet so far away.

She ground her hips harder, feeling all of him. Eliza played with the intensity of her thrusts a little while Matt simply stayed there, body unmoving and doing the same motion with his tongue over and over again while she fucked herself on his face. His nose caught against her clit and she gasped again, losing all control over her limbs.

He caught her thighs, helping her resume her movements in the same spot.

“More,” she choked out. “I need more.”

He nodded. “What exactly?”

“Just…”

He started to paint a precise picture over her clit, spelling his and her name before shoving his tongue into her hole. She twitched.

“That! God, yes! Fuck, that’s it.”

She chased the high that started to settle into her bones with the eagerness of a mad woman. She could feel it, resting right where his nose and tongue worked wonders over her slick cunt, and her lower stomach got tied in all kinds of shapes, an explosion waiting to happen. She reached for her breasts, squeezing her sensitive nipples.

His moan reverberated against her clit and he replaced her hand with both of his, rolling the sensitive nubs between his fingers the same way he started to suck on her clit, hearing the wetness of her walls as she clenched around nothing, her movements getting sloppier and more desperate, and he tugged a little harsher at her nipples.

She forced his face closer by the hair. “Fuck, Matthew,” she moaned his name like a mantra.

How was he so good at that?

He groaned again when she pulled at his hair, his scalp burning from the harsh assault, but the pain shot right to his aching cock in his dress pants. His hips lifted, finding no relief, but the sounds she was making and the taste of her juices exploding on his tongue might as well just have been a hand stroking up and down his shaft.

With another broken cry of his name, her legs locked around his head and he caught her by the throat before she could dive off the bed. Matt eagerly sucked at her pussy until she was quivering, the entirety of her juices landing in his mouth and he drank up everything she had to give.

The wave crashed in hard, knocking the air out of her lungs. She forgot how good it felt to be the one to receive the pleasure, how it felt to cum in his mouth and be completely at his mercy. She forgot how good it felt to be so turned on, her body was in full control of her actions. The high was unlike anything she could feel with a recreational substance.

She breathed deeply, walls spasming and her legs shaking.

More, her head screamed.

“Can I-“ she swallowed hard. His eyes fluttered open, a questioning look on his face while he lazily kept licking at her folds. “I want to go for another one,” she admitted quietly.

He grunted. “Please do,” he said.

If she kept this up, he would cum too and it was all he needed.

Her hips started to resume her movements, sloppier and weaker this time. He used the garter belts to move her in the way she showed him before.

“Fuck!” She quivered completely against him, his tongue merciless as it licked and thrust, wringing moan after moan from her chest.

At this point, she didn’t care, she rode his face at an intensity and speed, his beard was sure to leave a bloody burn on the inside of her thighs. But fuck did she need it. She had needed this for so long and finally having it, finally being able to cum after such a long time was heaven on earth. And at his hands she would gladly do it all over again.

She threw her entire body back, hands now resting on his thighs. He had planted his feet up on the mattress, allowing her more leverage. One hand searched for his belt, undoing it and reaching for his aching cock.

“No,” he moaned against her cunt, “Later.” The words came choked up and needy.

She whined, wanting to feel him come apart in her hands, but she was barely present. The orgasm built and built and built until it eventually set her world on fire the same way his vision burned.

“Matt, I’m…”

He squeezed her breast with one hand, the other rubbing her clit as he fucked her with his tongue.

“Uh-huh,” his voice vibrated through her inner walls.

Her legs locked around his head. The orgasm was more intense, more progressed than the first and she moaned so loud, her voice bounced off the walls and she was sure the nice lady next door fell out of her bed at the way she let out Matt’s name.

The entire building must have heard them by now and the thought turned her on so much, she came even harder, thighs locked around his head and hips bucking desperately and wildly as he helped her get down from her high.

Her lungs opened and Eliza could finally breathe again, still holding onto his hair. “Thank you,” she said.

The relief was short-lived.

Matt didn’t plan on stopping at two. She had asked for them, now it was his turn to ask for one of her orgasms, and if she didn’t say yes, he would take it anyway. She tried to pull her hips away, but in the wake of her orgasm, she was weaker than him.

He flipped her onto her back, forcing her legs back into the mattress, and went back to sucking at her abused cunt with a low growl. Her back arched into him. “Matthew, please,” she whimpered, legs tightening around his head. He forced them apart, pushing them so deep into the mattress, it felt as if he split her in two. “I came,” she told him, “I promise! I can’t… God, fuck!”

“I know you did,” he said. “But I want you to give me another one. I want you to cum as hard as you can.”

She moved back on the mattress, trying to evade his stupidly skilled mouth, but he found his way back. He simply followed where she went. Keeping her legs spread like a fucking pro, she lost herself in the abyss of ecstasy, feeling the pressure building up inside of her like a crescendo. Whenever he sucked again, heat spread through her entire being. He alternated between thrusting his tongue inside of her and kissing at her folds, doing exactly what she showed him that she needed when she sat on his face.

She arched her back, lurched forward, then fell back into the sheets again. She wasn’t sure what to hold on to, but his hair wasn’t it. She managed to find a pillow somewhere, digging her nails into the silk and pulling at it so hard, she could feel it tear under her fingers.

Soon enough, he plunged two fingers inside her tight walls. Her lips parted in a silent scream. The world around her exploded into stars and pits of endless fire. She saw white and black at the same time, pussy clenching around his fingers and gripping him like a vice.

This was… different. As he kept massaging her g-spot and applying pressure to her clit every so often, the feeling that started to bubble up inside her was new. The pressure that spread through her lower half and even set her nipples on fire as she squeezed one of them in her hands was so intense, she felt as if she was a hand grenade about to explode in his hand.

“Think you can take another one?” he asked.

She must have made a sound of approval. Her walls stretched with a delicious burn as he inserted a third finger into her pussy.

“God, yes!” She met his thrusts. “Yes, fuck, yes! Right there.”

“Here?” Matt’s eyes fluttered innocently as he curled all three of his fingers upwards.

She squealed. “Yes!”

His thumb joined his tongue on his journey to stimulate every last nerve that sat in her clit, pulling the highest amount of pleasure out of her that was humanly possible.

The blood rushed in her ears, her throat dried up and unable to make sounds with how deep he was, how good his mouth felt, and the sounds he made spurred the intense stone on to roll down the hill and crash into her with full force.

“Matthew, what are you doing to me?” She was crying, sobbing even, and her body convulsed with each perfect thrust of his fingers.

“Making you cum,” he stated.

He flicked her clit from side to side with his tongue, enveloping it with his lips again and making out with her cunt agonizingly slowly. He didn’t answer, he just continued at the same pace with the same intensity he started with. He didn’t rush, he played her like the keys of a keyboard, waiting for the notes to turn into a melody. Her voice already sounded like the cacophony of an angel’s choir. All he needed was the music to add to it. He wanted her screams. He wanted the sound of his name to be the only lyrics she would ever memorize, and for her to only respond to the touch of his fingers, no one else’s.

Matt suspected she could do it if he took his time and tried hard enough, pushed the right buttons, and kept her on the edge for long enough, but he didn’t want to wait. He wanted to test his theory as soon as possible, and judging by how badly she was trying to steer off the almost painful pressure that had her clenching around him so hard, he thought his fingers would break, he almost had her right where he wanted her.

“Are you getting close?” he rasped. “Are you gonna cum for me soon?”

She nodded feverishly, a tear making its way down her perky breasts and onto his mouth. He moaned at the taste.

“Yes,” she choked out.

He lapped at where his fingers kept disappearing inside of her. “Don’t,” he told her.

“What?”

“Not yet, sweetheart. Give me a minute.”

A minute was an overstatement, but her whine was sweet enough for him to consider edging her for longer.

“No,” her tears multiplied with every thrust of his fingers, “Please, I need to… let me cum, please. I’m begging you! I can’t hold it. Matthew, fuck!”

He dared to slightly bite down on her clit, not enough to seriously hurt her, but the pain instantly added to the pressure that was already hard enough to keep from bursting at the seams.

“Wait for it,” he instructed.

The weight of the orgasm resting in her lower stomach grew to a painful extent and she was sure she would explode any second now, even without permission. Her hand found his hair, trying to push him away, but he stayed right between her legs, eating her out to get his fill, and he would get it soon enough.

“Stop, please.”

It wasn’t their safeword, although he considered asking her if she wanted to stop.

“God, fuck! You’re gonna make me… I can’t.”

Her words made no sense and he chuckled again, feeling the desperation seep out of her pores. Perhaps he wasn’t just a masochist but a sadist as well.

“Oh, you can,” he purred.

“No, I really can’t. Fuck!” She cried again. She was best at that. “Don’t stop,” she couldn’t help herself. It hurt but was so damn good at the same time. “Don’t fucking- oh, no.”

He chuckled again. “Oh, yes. You’re doing so well, baby. Just a little more.” He sucked her clit between his teeth and released it again, his fingers curling one last time before he pulled them out, “Do me a favor and cum, now.”

Eliza slapped the pillow against her face because she was sure if she didn’t, she would scream. What was about to happen felt embarrassing enough.

She had read about it before and she knew that the female body was capable of so many things, especially when it came to sex, but she never thought she would be one of those women. She never thought she could be so stimulated and turned on to the point her orgasm would tear her body apart, shake her world and exorcize her soul so that all her body could do was release all the pent-up stress she had by releasing an obscene amount of wetness while her cunt clenched around pure pleasure for dear life.

She was sure she passed out for a moment there, her muscles locking up with the explosion of dopamine and oxytocin, and her eyes rolled back to the point she could have sworn she saw her brain being tossed into the mixer, shredded into pieces at full speed.

His head got caught between her thighs as they shut around him, but instead of pulling away, he dove in to catch all she gave him. He swallowed every last drop as if he hadn’t eaten or drunk in months.

His thumb kept rubbing her pulsating clit gently until her lungs filled with air again and she regained consciousness. The pillow slipped from her hands and back onto the bed. Her chest heaved. She must have looked so pretty in the luminescence of the Billboard.

His forehead leaned against her mound, breathing in the sweet scent of her arousal and listening to the wetness trickle out of her cunt with every twitch of her inner walls. Every muscle in her body was riddled with heavy aftershocks, but the soft caress he left along her thighs and hips eventually eased the wave and brought awareness back to her body.

She swallowed. The mess between her legs was more than palpable.

“Damn,” Matt murmured with a chuckle that bordered on proud and cheeky, “I knew it.”

“Oh, God,” Eliza gnawed on her bottom lip, her voice hoarse and higher than usual.

“God isn’t here tonight, sweetheart, but I know that this must have been a heavenly experience.”

“Did I… I just… fuck, Matthew!”

“Oh, yeah, you did.” He pressed a kiss to the hickey he had left on her hip bone. “And it was so good, I’ll probably smell and taste you for weeks now.”

“What about the sheets?” she wondered. “Fuck.” The blush crept back to her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think-”

He was back up and hovering over her in seconds, shushing her with his lips on hers. “Don’t apologize,” he said.

“No, I am.” Eliza disappeared into a ball of shame behind her hands. She tried to close her legs to get rid of the cold, sticky feeling that had her shivering, but his large figure between her thighs made it impossible to move further than his hips.

“Did it feel good?”

She nodded.

“Then why the fuck would you apologize?”

The lower part of his face glistened wetly in the soft purple light that came in through the bedroom window. It was ironic to see him enveloped in the same shade they had just danced in, though this time it wasn’t the sprinklers that had him all wet, it was her. Peaking through her fingers, she looked at him. He had never looked happier with his hair disheveled, lips swollen, cheeks red, and face covered in her cum. And he had also never looked better. He smirked, feeling her gaze on him, and the wave of arousal that hit his nose was a new one.

Her eyes slipped lower, hovering over his crotch. The black of his dress pants was damp where his cock rested, only half-hard now and less aching. She reached for him and he dropped his head in the crook of her neck, taking a deep breath. The rough fabric mixed with the sound of her moans and the taste of her all over his tongue had been enough to make him come apart in seconds. She hadn’t even finished before he did, but he got her there in the end.

“That was enough for you?” she asked him. Her fingers met the tip of his clothed cock, playing with the cum that had soaked into his pants. Sucking her now glistening thumb between her lips, she sighed at the familiar taste.

He answered without a word, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. Her hands grew desperate again. She fiddled with the buttons on his shirt and his belt buckle, but they wouldn’t open.

Only one flick of his fingers and the leather of his belt loosened. “Easy tiger,” he mused. She pulled it out with the most adorable pout, joining her bra on the floor. “Haven’t you had enough yet?”

She pulled at his hair, beyond frustrated. “Shut up and get naked!”

“Alright, if you insist.”

Matt rolled off of her, standing in all his glory at the foot of the bed. She sat up on her elbows, watching him undress slowly enough she could tell he did it on purpose. But God, did she enjoy the show.

He stepped out of his pants first, discarding them with the rest of their clothing, followed by his shoes. he was left in his boxers and sweat-stained dress shirt. She bit her lip. He didn’t move for a good thirty seconds and she wondered if he changed his mind. Just as she was about to open the buttons for him, cunt aching with the need for his cock, he tore the shirt open with his bare hands and absolutely no regard for his shirt.

Her breath got caught in her throat. The scars that adorned his chest shone almost silver in the purple atmosphere that filled the room, reflecting off his eyes and his teeth, making him seem like a fairy, almost. He was an angel, something only to be found in fairytales - he was a rarity, something not many could have, but she did. Eliza had him and the show he put on was for her alone. Only she was allowed to see him at his most vulnerable and touch him so sensually.

At that moment, he could have done anything to her and she would have followed. He owned her.

“Fuck me,” she growled. “Tear your clothes off more often, I dare you.”

Matt snorted. “I wouldn’t have anything left to wear,” he said.

“Exactly.”

She sat up on her knees, the bed creaking under her weight. He grabbed her face softly and pulled her lips against his. She moaned into the kiss. His hands stroked over the scars on her back as she traced the ones on his. It was almost innocent, the way they touched each other.

Her hands disappeared beneath the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down, too. He was naked now, just like her, and she could only stare in awe at the fully hard size of his length.

“Fuck,” she growled in the back of her throat, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Says you,” he replied, kissing her again, pouring his entire soul into the way he held her against him, heartbeats soon beating in the same rhythm and bodies yearning for each other.

She kissed the weeping tip of his cock, licking a long stripe up the base of him. His hand tangled in her hair and he sighed, the feeling all too familiar. But this wasn’t his plan for tonight.

“Not tonight, sweetheart,” he told her. “Tonight is about you.”

“But,” she began.

“No, I mean it. No blowjobs today.”

She pouted and it was truly adorable.

Matt pushed her onto her back, slotting himself between her thighs again. His cock rested against her stomach as he continued making out with her, not rushing anything, just feeling her up and down with his mouth and hands alone.

Finally, after what felt like a billion light years, he grabbed her leg to hook it around his waist.

“Lift your hips for me, my love,” he said.

He slid a pillow under her lower back, positioned the head of his cock against her entrance, and then leaned down to her again, pressing his nose tightly against hers.

She pulled him down, breaking the distance. As her lips collided with him, he thrust forward and buried his cock inside of her to the hilt in just one swift motion. Her mouth dropped open, passing the softest moan, and he forced his tongue into her mouth in the process, exploring the warmth that consumed her in more ways than one.

He didn’t move, he stayed for a moment, reveling in his right she was around him. Every time he was inside of her, she hugged him just right. It was a feeling he could never tire of. His cock felt at home buried between her folds, swallowed and claimed by her every time he fucked her, able to pull orgasm after orgasm out of that beautiful person and render her mindless. Her pleasure belonged to him, as did she. The necklace around her neck proved it. He hadn’t bought it because he owned her but because he knew her better than anyone and loved her more than anything and he knew that she had an Affiliation for such small gifts with a lot of thought behind them.

But he also bought it because he, indeed, owned her and everyone could know that. The same way they would see the hickeys and know she was taken.

“Matthew,” she moaned his name right into his ear, sending his already hypnotized senses into overdrive. “Look at me,” she said. “And fuck me, please. I need you. I need you to move.”

His hand fisted the sheets above her head. His reserves crumbled. He grabbed the leg that he had thrown over his hip and held it close against him as he started to thrust his cock into the tight confines of her pussy. What started as slow strokes soon enough turned into vigorous movements of his pelvis as he drove home into her most sensitive spot, tickling all the sweet, lewd sounds out of her. They spilled from her lips like wine and he drank them up, sucking them into his mouth and stealing her breath away.

His thrusts came hard and deep. Her heart echoed in his ears. He focused on how she clenched around him, how her nails raked down his back and were sure to draw blood. She bit into his shoulder to keep herself from screaming and he grunted, changing the angle so that he could hit even deeper and feel even more of her, her leg now almost over his shoulder, the other flat against the mattress.

“God,” her head thrashed wildly as she clenched down on him, “You feel so fucking good. Fuck!”

It wasn’t enough. He wanted to drown in her, become one and never wake up again.

In her delirious state, the words she uttered and the sounds she made were senseless. “More,” she breathed. “Feels so good. Please, Matthew. Harder.”

“Yeah?” He stroked her hair back. “You feel so fucking good too. I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk.”

She looked into his eyes when she moaned this time, he could feel the full extent of her pleasure coursing through his veins at the same speed.

“Is that what you want, baby? For me to fuck you until your legs are shaking and you’re ruined with my cum buried deep inside you?”

“Yes!” She met his thrust. “Fuck, yes! Please.”

Matt kissed her, deep and passionately. “You were made for me.”

Her legs tightened around his waist, heels digging into the curve of his ass, and one of her hands joined to claw at the cheek.

But she was still not close enough.

“Turn around,” he said. “Need to be deeper. Need you to take my cock deeper like a good girl. Need you to swallow me whole, baby.”

She whined at the loss of him, but followed his instructions nonetheless. He repositioned the pillow so it rested under her stomach now, tilting her hips enough to make her comfortable and for him to dive as deep as he humanly could. He sank back into her smoothly, her walls tighter now, and she could feel every vein of his cock the same way he could feel the exact texture of the velvety walls of her pussy clenching around him.

“That’s it. Fuck! You’re so tight.“

The sound she let out bordered on a gurgled scream, one hand reaching behind her to cradle his head. He buried his nose in her neck with every thrust, holding her hips in place by locking an arm around her. That way, he could even press down on her lower stomach, and that was enough to finally get the scream of his name to fill the bedroom.

He reveled in the sound of the echo, the clear arousal, desperation, and mindlessness of her voice, and the way she said his name. The volume was rather tame for a scream, but the octave was high and uncontrolled. Her hips rocked back into him and he hit her g-spot just right every time he brought his hips forward to plunge his cock completely into her again.

There would be blood on him the next day from how hard she scratched him, but he got off on the pain. He wanted her to dig harder, if that was even possible, pull just a little more on the strands of his hair and bite down on his forearm.

He sunk his teeth into her shoulder. She keened, cunt clenching around his cock as the wave of her orgasm became this close to crashing in on her.

“Matthew, please,” her voice was raspy, “I’m so close.”

“I know,” he said. “I know, baby, me too. You just gotta hold on a little more, yeah?”

“Fuck!”

“Can you be a good girl for me and wait until I tell you to cum?”

Thrashing her head around, she still managed to nod. “Yes.”

Anything for him.

The straight position started to grow uncomfortable, so she tried to angle her leg a bit further up. Matt caught her. For a second, she feared he might punish her for trying to change position, but instead of scolding her, he helped her bend her knee enough so she could have some leverage and he held her that way with each of his thrusts, using the newfound space to circle his fingers around her aching clit. Eliza shivered, goosebumps following where his lips brushed her neck and her nipples kept rubbing against the silk sheets.

He could feel his cock disappearing inside of her while he rubbed at the sensitive bundle of nerves. He felt how perfectly he fit and right where he split her open.

The temptation was stronger than his common sense.

She bit down on his arm when he decided to plunge a finger into her tight, already abused hole at the same time his cock stretched her out. She was full beyond anything she had deemed possible before. He was everywhere and there was no space for her to move. She could clench, but there was no way she could get any tighter than that, and the wetness only did so much to keep the burning at bay.

The added size made her cry out, though instead of causing indescribable pain, it turned her on even more. The orgasm knocked on her door, ready to crash in.

She gasped, “Please, Matthew, can I- fuck! Can I cum?” she asked. “I’m so close, please.”

He wasn’t sure how long he could keep this going, so he nodded breathlessly, giving her permission to, “Let go for me.” And with the way he kept thrusting into her with both his cock and one of his fingers, his thumb still rubbing her clit and his moans filling her ears like the most beautiful symphony, she came fast and screaming for him, face smushed into the pillows and body shaking.

Matt’s finger slipped from her cunt. He grabbed at her ass, pulling her against him. The flesh jiggled and he couldn’t help but bring his palm down on the tender flesh. Again, again, again, and again. The sounds she made bordered on broken sobs. Her nipples rubbed against the silk sheets as his thrusts grew more vigorous, and the stimulation to the sensitive nubs on her chest had her clenching around him again in no time.

She reached back to grab his ass, holding him so deep inside of her, his tip rested against her cervix. “God, Matt, fuck!” He had her in a metaphorical chokehold, her body only responding to the pleasure he gave her and it was enough to have her bordering on the edge of climax.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he said. “Cum again for me.” He forcefully pulled her hips flush against his, cock resting at the right angle that it pushed all the way down on her g-spot and she came again with a loud cry of his name and her legs shaking harder than the world she was in.

His thrusts grew sloppy, and he followed only shortly behind with his release. With his hips glued to hers, his cock twitched and he came, cum spurting into her pussy, and he stayed right where he was, wanting to feel every last convulsion of her walls around him.

He panted heavily into her ear, “Good job,” he said. “You took me so well. All of me. I’m so proud of you, baby. I love you so much.”

When he pulled out, he could hear his cum dripping out of her hole, down her clit, and her thighs. She jolted against the cold air. He stroked over her ass cheeks again, collecting his cum and shoving it back inside of her.

“Don’t want to waste anything,” he told her.

She whimpered, though she let him overstimulate her and stuff her to the brim with his seed. Only like this could she feel complete. It was obscene and sinful but God, she loved walking around with his cum as a sign of being marked more than anything. A dirty fantasy she carried around with her all hours of the day. She needed him so badly, no matter where she was or what she did. It was almost as if she was addicted to him and all the acts of service he could provide in and out of the bedroom.

Her cunt spasmed, his cum leaking again. He sighed at the sound and the scent of them both mixed into a cocktail.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed. “You have no idea how badly I want to taste us together.”

His tongue swiped over her lower back first, then her ass cheeks.

“Can I just…” He stopped just above her folds. “Give me another one,” it wasn’t a question anymore. “Just one more, sweetheart. One more orgasm and we’re done. I just want to taste you so badly.”

That he wasn’t completely exhausted yet surprised her, but that man was known for his high stamina and pain tolerance. Overstimulation was nothing new to him and he seemingly enjoyed eating her pussy until she was shaking.

She was useless, she couldn’t fight back, not even when his tongue met her folds. He licked a long stripe over where the aftermath of their orgasms mixed. The taste was phenomenal. He shoved his tongue inside of her, hazy and high. She had a safe word, but she enjoyed this as much as he did, so she let it happen.

She met the feverish thrusts of his tongue, keeping her thighs spread with his veiny hands. He fucked her deliciously, her clit brushing the pillow underneath with every gentle smack to her ass.

It wasn’t long before the knot of pleasure tightened in a painful twist, her cunt pulsating with the release and her muscles too weak to wait for him to tell her.

“Matt-“

“I know.”

She came on his tongue for the third time that night, coating his face in both her arousal and what was left of his cum, which he hadn’t lapped up yet. He took it eagerly, cleaning her up with desperate moans and whimpers, grunting every so often when his tongue picked up traces of her sweat and tears in the mix.

One last smack and he was gone, finally yet, unfortunately. She panted into the sheets, gone into a world where time and space didn’t exist. She was just floating around in gray matter.

A large hand stroked up her heated back until it reached her neck, gently brushing the hair away before Matt kissed her shoulders. He worked on the tense muscles, using his fingers for something other than pleasure this time as he tried to coax her back to life.

The rubber of the garter belts he left on started to burn. She lifted her hips. “Matty, take them off,” she whispered. “Get them off, please.”

He nodded, slipping them down her legs and off. “There you go. I’m sorry,” he returned to whispering gentle praises into her ear, “You did so well for me.”

She relaxed slowly. The thudding of her heart in her ears moved into the distance and the earth came to a halt. She stopped spinning around her axis, the air in her lungs returning to where it was supposed to be. While her limbs kept shaking and her clit pulsated with every breath she took, she slowly started to come back to herself, and the haze of pleasure turned more into a state of relief than submission.

After a while, she turned her head to the other side. Matt lay on his side, finger carding through her hair absentmindedly. The glaze over his eyes told her all she needed to know. He was just as done and thoroughly fucked out as she was. The silence managed to slow their heart rates back to a healthy speed.

He smiled when he felt her eyes on him and she smiled back, tired but alright. “Hi,” she murmured.

“Hi,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For doing this.”

He shook his head, chuckling softly before pressing a kiss to her forehead. He told her once before she didn’t have to thank him for doing nice things or even having sex with her, to begin with, but she told him she wouldn’t stop, so he had to accept it.

She would eventually start accepting this as a regular occasion and orgasms would no longer feel like a rarity she had to thank him for but rather like something she had every right to.

Rubbing his thumb over the bridge of her nose, the one button he could press to instantly calm her down, Matt asked, “Do you need anything?”

But Eliza only shook her head. “Just stay with me like this,” she said.

“Okay, I can do that.”

“And then I need a shower.”

She smacked her lips.

“How about I get you some water first?” he suggested. “And then we can rest for a bit.”

The bottle next to the bed was empty, he had to get up to get a new one.

She gave him an incredulous look but gave in eventually when her throat started to hurt from the dehydration. She nodded, letting go of his arm so he could move into the kitchen and retrieve two fresh bottles from the fridge.

She took it gratefully, downing the entire thing in one gulp.

She didn’t care that she was covered in cum, spit, tears, and smudged makeup. All she cared about was lying in his arms for a few minutes and forgetting the world existed, which it didn’t have with him around. Their sex bubble was her favorite place to be and she had missed it, even though it had been just a week. A week without sex with a man like Matt was an arduous task, especially for an addict. Eliza was down so bad, she missed having an actual sex drive to have sex with him. She hadn’t been horny and she still missed sex with him. He had that much power over her. He taught her what pleasure truly meant and she couldn’t get enough of it.

With her back pressed to his chest and his arm around her shoulder, they lay there for a while. She played with his fingers, releasing the tension in them by cracking his knuckles. In return, he ran his hand over the knee, calf, and upper thigh that she had placed over his leg, feet planted on the mattress. He enjoyed the feel of her soft skin under his fingertips.

The room smelled of them, of sex and love and her perfume that lingered on the dress, as well as the water from the sprinklers they had danced through.

She loved him more than anything, and she would gladly risk getting cold again and again for a chance to be so carefree with him. And the sex was a nice way to end the night indeed.

But it wasn’t quite over yet. Matt’s eyes fluttered open suddenly, his head tilting toward the window. Eliza looked at him, worry etched in her features. She knew that look. He had heard sometimes and continued to listen. It must be serious, she thought. He usually tried to pry himself away and focus on her, but not even the hand on her heart grounded him this time.

She touched his bicep. “What’s wrong?” she asked, the sheets slipping from her body slightly as she sat up.

Matt jumped out of bed, back into his boxers, and stalked toward the window. He tilted his head again, hand placed on the wall and his ear close to the shut window. She watched his eyes twitch every time he heard something new, the source of the noise finally in his reach. His knuckles turned white from how hard he grabbed onto the stonewall.

She threw the covers off her body with a prolonged sigh, slipped into his ruined dress shirt, and walked out of the bedroom, only to return a few minutes later with his suit in hand.

Matt only returned half of his attention to her when she shoved the leather into his hand. “Go,” she said, the faintest of smiles on her face.

And she meant it. She wasn’t mad or upset with him for wanting to choose Daredevil as if it was the primal need of a werewolf to change during a full moon. He hesitated, fighting with himself. The woman he loved was half-naked in his bed, they’d just had sex and he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in her arms.

But the city needed him. The women at the docks screaming for help before being carted away as means to make money needed him. They reminded her so much of what happened to her and the kids at the White Room, he couldn’t ignore this nagging feeling of the need to jump in and beat these disgusting creatures who took them senseless, enforce at least some justice and drop them mindless before the police station.

Hell’s Kitchen needed Daredevil. He had to come out of hibernation, and she offered that escape to him. He didn’t have to feel guilty, she wanted him to. She wanted him to be who he needed to be because she chose him, both of them, Daredevil and Matt Murdock, the lawyer by day and vigilante by night, and the occasional devil in the sheets.

It was Daredevil who saved her life all those weeks ago, after all.

She shook the hand that held his suit. “Go,” she repeated her previous word. “Put the suit on, Matt, and go. It’s okay,” she said.

He made his decision. He took the leather, ignoring how much bleach it reeked, and pressed a loving kiss to her lips, holding her chin in place.

“Thank you,” he breathed. And he added, louder this time, “I love you so much.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, nodding in the direction of the staircase to the roof. “Get your cute butt into that suit and save your city.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Right before he could leave though, she put a hand on his arm, the knowing and proud smile mixing what that of worry. She kissed him again, softly, carefully, not wanting him to break.

“Be careful out there,” she said, “and come back to me in one piece.”

“I will,” he reassured her with a gentle tap on her nose.

She tapped his back and retorted, “Good.”

“Get some sleep.” Pecking her lips, which proved to her that he was still hesitant to leave, he put the cowl on. The red eyes of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen stared down at her and she had never felt more proud of him for overcoming his fear. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

She slapped his ass on his way up. “Okay.”

“I will note that and get you back.”

“Oh, please do.”

“Don’t start this now, sweetheart, or you won’t get any sleep tonight.”

The couch cushion she threw after him hit the door right as he closed it. His laugh rang out from the other side and she shook her head, trying to look serious, but she failed miserably.

In the breeze of the wind, he was gone and she was left alone in his dark apartment, slightly anxious and hoping he would come back to her with all his limbs still intact. But this was Matt Murdock. If anything his father taught him it was how to take a punch, and he swore to always come back to her, no matter the circumstances, so she went to bed anyway, praying to a God she didn’t believe him to bring her devil back home to her in one piece.

And he would, in time, because Matt would always get back up when he was beaten down. Always.

#matt murdock #matt murdock smut #foreigner's god #matt murdock x female!oc #matt murdock x oc #daredevil #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock imagines #human disaster matt murdock #matt murdock angst #daredevil fic #matt murdock fic #marvel #foggy nelson #original female character #charlie cox

37 notes · View notes