Matt Murdock In Semper Fidelis (2.07)

Matt Murdock in ‘Semper Fidelis‘ (2.07)

Kinktober 2024 - Overstimulation

Pairing: Matt Murdock/Reader

“What colour, Matty?” You cooed softly. 

“G-Green-” He stuttered, his voice wavering, his breath coming in desperate broken pants. 

It had been green for a while now. He just wouldn’t give in. He’d been groaning, whimpering. His cockhead was swollen and it was starting to look more red than pink but he was still saying green. 

His hands were tied to his thighs and his ankles were tied to the legs of the chair. His sat fully exposed for you. Gasping for air and still pleading for more. Even though his body was shaking, his throat was dry with how much he was begging. He still wanted more.

“Are you sure, baby?” Your hand moved gently across his length, cupping his balls.

He nodded quickly, his breath utterly broken. His body was so taut that you could see every defined muscle, every scar, every vein.

And the only thing that fell from his lips was please, please, please, please, please- with desperate whiney breaths and nothing else. I deserve it- I need it- Please, please please, don’t- don’t stop- He kept begging between choked gasps, his body shaking every time you touched his dick. 

His stomach was soaked and half-dried with caked cum. It wasn’t even white anymore. 

His dick was just twitching air but he was still hard and throbbing. His head was thrown back, moaning, tiny tears streaming down his face as he tried to take shallow breaths. You had to use lube to keep him slick as you moved your hand over his cock. Slow and paced and then suddenly quick. He’d whine louder, begging again with every stroke. 

His cock twitched again but nothing came out. You could feel the balls squeeze and his voice becoming more hoarse. 

“What colour, baby?” You asked again. 

“Green-” He mumbled, even though his head was lolling to the side, his blind eyes even more glassy somehow. “Still green.” He rasped. 

You loved and hated nights like these. The ones where he didn’t want to stop. The ones where he’d force you, beg you to keep going until he passed out. But god, if he didn’t look a vision like this. Tied, exposed, begging and all yours. 

You popped an ice cube in your mouth and sucked it until you were sure your tongue was cold. You threw it away and licked the shaft with the flat of your tongue. You couldn’t stop but that didn’t mean you couldn’t make it feel pleasurable instead of the pain he wanted. 

As soon as the cold tongue touched him, the moaning sigh that left him made you smile. You swirled your cold tongue around the hot cockhead. His body twitched again. His palms opened and closed, unable to move.

“What colour, baby?” You asked, your face pressed against his dick. 

“G-Gr-” He swallowed, losing coherence, “R-” He shook his head with a growl, “Green.” 

You could see he was pushing beyond his limits. He’d almost said red just now but he was still pushing through. 

“Matty-” You say softly, sucking on another ice cube to lick him down, to stop the pain he was probably starting to feel. 

“No- please- please.” He said hoarsely. “Not yet- One more-” 

You knew he’d definitely faint at one more but he was yours. Who were you to deny what he needed? 

“Just one more baby.” You nodded, lubing up your hands again and starting to pump him slowly. But he was so overworked and overstimulated that even one touch made him whimper. His head was thrown back immediately. His body was convulsing and clenching with every stroke. The noises he made were so fucking beautiful but his cock was burning in your hands with how overworked it was. 

You moved your hand across his shaft, brushing at the ridge of the head. Every move made him whimper so pathetically and god, what a pretty sound. 

It was a symphony of please, please, almost, please that echoed in the apartment. His voice was so hoarse but he still was so needy.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” You cooed, your other hand fondling and giving soft squeezes to his empty balls. 

“Y-Yes-” Matt whined, his hips bucking into your hands as much as he could giving his restraints. “Yes.” He moaned again. 

His cock twitched, every muscle of his body was taut and you felt his balls tense again. His dick pulsated in your hand and maybe a few drops gathered on top but nothing more came. 

“Good boy… Such a pretty mess-” You whispered to him as his body went slack. “What colour?” 

“Gr- Red-” He finally whispered. His body loosened entirely and slumping back into the chair.

The reason that Matt got overstimulation as his kink.

Kinktober 2024.

Yeah, I'm fine

*Types "<character name> x reader" into tumblr search bar*

Charlie Cox as Matt Murdock Daredevil S3E04 - "Blindsided"

Fictober Day 4: Thigh Riding

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Thigh Riding (✨)

Summary: You ride Matt's thigh. That's it. That's the plot.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), thigh riding, dirty talk, use of "good girl", PWP

Word Count: 817

A/n: Today, you are getting a Drabble. I finally managed to write something a little shorter, but I did it mostly to challenge myself. I don't write Drabbles often, so this was fun to do, especially with that prompt. If you were hoping for something longer, I apologize, but thigh riding is one of the juiciest prompts for our Deranged Catholic Lawyer ever and I might use it again in the future.

[Smut right under the cut!]

Read Me On AO3!

The air is thick with sweat and despair. Every breath you take gets caught in your throat and turns into a wanton moan. It’s loud enough to bounce off the walls and spiral back to you. 

You most certainly lost your mind a long time ago. 

Matt has been so busy lately, never leaving a hopeless stone unturned until he has done everything he can to help those who can’t help themselves. It’s one of many things you love so much about it. You are so in love it sometimes makes you want to bash your head through drywall. And tonight, he has taken the night off from the streets of Hell’s Kitchen to take care of his girl. Because you need him, and he can’t say no when you need him. When he can smell the arousal soaking through your panties the moment he sets foot in the door. 

The dinner you made was forgotten before you even had a chance to tell him what you made. Matt walked in, and the second his senses picked up on you in that tiny black dress, he pounced like a starving animal on the hunt. 

Your bare cunt drags over the fabric of his clothed thigh as his nails bury themselves in the flesh around your hips. With every brush of your clit against the taunt muscle, a million fires reignite in your belly. You are weak to the smoldering heat of an inferno waiting to happen and level you to the ground. 

“That’s it,” he grunts in your ear. “Just like that.”

There is nothing more ethereal to him than you when you are like this—mouth agape against his shoulder, biting the fabric of his dress shirt, and your heart beating through your chest into his. He can feel you in every crevice of his being, taste you on his tongue. When you’re this vulnerable for him, when you let your guard down to take the pleasure you deserve, you are the easiest to admire.

His words are far out of his control as they slip, injecting them right into your bloodstream like the most addictive drug on the market—and you are getting it all for free. 

Good girl. Take what you need. Gonna make yourself come, hm? 

Your eyes roll back into your head. 

Gonna wear those pants to work tomorrow so I can smell you. Imagine what it’d be like to bend you over and fuck you ‘till all of New York knows my name. That what you want? Yeah, you do. That’s my girl. 

To him, it sounds like gibberish, but with every syllable uttered, your heart starts beating faster. Your walls clench around nothing. Your lungs contract, and you cry his name into the void. That’s what he was looking for. 

Matt drags his nose from behind your ear, down your throat. Your pulse jumps under his touch. He revels in the way you react to him, always. Like you have never been touched before. 

“Mine,” he writes those words on your upper thigh as he says them, barely conscious yet precise with his fingertips. “You’re mine.”

The possessiveness he feels with you makes him crazy, but you are not so far behind him. He has long driven you into madness. You would use a hot iron and brand his name into your skin if it meant you could stay like this forever, with him. 

“Yours,” you choke out between pants. Yours, and only yours. Though you’re not strong enough to say much more, not when it feels this good to ride those thick thighs of his.

His hand comes to rest around your neck. Air is a luxury, but with him, you don’t need it. You like it when your head gets fuzzy, and all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears as the noose of pleasure threatens to hang you. 

He’s flexing his thigh and squeezing your neck, and the crescendo is building; you can’t outrun it. Your cunt continues to grind against him, so selfish, so needy, and you know you would give him anything if he just asked. 

The light at the end of the tunnel is right there. Every drag feels like a punch to your gut, but a pleasurable one nonetheless. Not a second goes by when you’re not connected to him. And when you open your eyes and you see the look on Matt’s face, the way he’s taking you in, it’s more than enough to send you hurdling over the edge.

As always though, he is there to catch you as you fall. 

“Shh,” he runs his hand through your hair, “I’ve got you. Breathe.”

You breathe him in. Your legs may be shaking, and you have lost all sense of time, but you are with the man you love, and nothing could ever make you quite as happy as he does. 

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that’s it that’s the show