| she/her | 20s | virgo | istp | British |
432 posts
Pinkratts - Tumblr Blog
On Your Knees, Devil
Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 6k [Tuna-Tober Masterlist]
Tuna-Tober Prompt: Role Reversal
Warnings/tags: 18+; pure filthy smut, dom!Reader/sub!Devil, smidge of roughness (very slight), fingering, f!oral receiving, cocky Matt and mouthy Devil (they definitely need a warning)
Summary: You've never been one to take control in the bedroom–until tonight, when you're determined to draw out the Devil and make him submit to you.
a/n: I was unhinged the week when I wrote this, and I'll admit, it's a bit different from my usual smut. Enjoy the filth. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
“Oh come on,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Now you're just being cocky.”
Matt smirked at you from his place on the leather couch, sinking deeper back into the cushions as he spread his legs further apart. “I'm just being honest with you, sweetheart,” he replied, casually tossing an arm over the backrest. “You couldn't handle the Devil, and you certainly wouldn't be able to bend him to your will.”
Crossing your arms over your chest, you arched a brow at Matt from across the coffee table. You could feel your frustration rising the more he kept dismissing you.
“How would you know?” you questioned. “You've never been with anyone as the Devil before, Matt. Because none of your previous flings ever knew your big secret like I do.”
“Sweetheart,” Matt began, his smirk growing wider, “you're far too soft spoken in the bedroom. Loud in other ways but–and I don't want you to take this wrong–you just…would not be able to handle that side of me. Especially not with you being the one in control.”
“You don’t know that,” you scoffed.
He shot you a pointed look, his head tilting to the side. Your jaw clenched at the sight of it.
“You’ve never been in that role before, sweetheart,” he said. “If you want to play out whatever’s in your head with me, then I’m all for it. But we’re not bringing that side of me into this. Certainly not like that.”
“Why not?” you demanded.
Matt sighed, leaning back into the leather of the couch. “It’s just not that simple. You don’t have any experience and you want to just immediately go straight to controlling the Devil? That’s…a little out of your league, sweetheart.”
Your eyes narrowed back at him, your spine straightening as his words only further increased your determination. Matt was clearly picking up on the subtle shifts in your body, and each one only seemed to grow that arrogant smirk on his face. A smirk you wanted to wipe from his lips with each passing second.
“What’s the harm in letting me try?” you asked, voice darkening.
The corners of Matt’s lips twitched at your tone, clearly catching your growing irritation. “The harm, sweetheart,” he began, his response already grating on your nerves, “is that if you don’t know what you’re doing, this could all go down in a way that we both regret. The Devil isn’t…he’s not just some costume I throw on. He’s–he’s a part of me. A darker part of me.”
“I know, Matt,” you told him. “I’ve been with you for almost a year. I’ve met the Devil. On many occasions and in many different moods. I know exactly who the Devil is and I've always wanted that side of you just as much as this one.”
Over on the couch, Matt expelled a long sigh. “I know we’ve been together for awhile, and yes, you’ve seen that side of me. And I love that you still love me despite that–”
“In spite of it,” you muttered. “I love all of you.”
Matt grinned at your comment before he continued, “But you still don’t have any experience in this area. And I just–just don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to ‘let the Devil out’ as you called it.”
For a moment you stood there, eyeing Matt so casually sprawled out on the leather couch. He couldn’t look any more smug with the way he was practically taking up the whole piece of furniture, his lips still quirked into an arrogant smirk. As you stood there staring at him, an idea gradually began to form in your mind.
“So you won’t just let the Devil out,” you began slowly, studying him closely, “but would you be opposed to me drawing him out myself?”
Matt’s lips twisted into something like a smile before he regained his composure, almost as if he was about to laugh at the idea. A heat flamed within you at the sight, your resolve to tame the Devil only growing by the second.
“And how do you plan to do that?” he asked, amused. “Are you going to rob a bank to lure him out? Mug someone on the street, sweetheart?”
He chuckled at the thought, a deep rumbling sound. The noise had your hands curling into fists where they were crossed over your chest but you fought back your annoyance. You knew he wouldn’t be laughing for long.
“I asked you a question and I expect an answer,” you demanded.
Matt’s amusement quickly subsided at the seriousness in your tone, his own eyes narrowing back at you. A muscle jumped in his cheek before he spoke.
“Alright, sweetheart,” Matt replied. “If you can manage to draw the Devil out, I'll let you. You think you can handle the situation? Then by all means, you can go ahead and try.”
Arching a brow at Matt, you uncrossed your arms, sensually sliding one hand down your body to the waistband of your sleep shorts. Two fingers toyed with the edge of it, your focus on Matt.
“You think I can't?” you challenged back.
Matt's eyes darkened, his unseeing gaze seemingly following the path of your hand as it had traveled down your body. You had his attention now, at least.
“You think that's going to draw out the Devil?” he goaded. “You think that's enough to do it?”
Your hand slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, your fingers gently running back and forth along your cunt over your panties. Your breath hitched just before you caught the slight flare of Matt's nostrils–exactly what you were looking for.
“I think I know more than you realize,” you told him.
Matt's eyes further narrowed back at you, his arm lowering from the back of the couch as he leaned forward, his smirk gradually shrinking. You definitely had his attention now.
“And just what do you think you know, sweetheart?” he shot back.
Squaring your shoulders, aware of the dampness that had begun to soak through your panties, your fingers continued running along yourself. “I know the scent of me makes you lose your mind,” you stated.
Matt's lip twitched at the corners, his nostrils flaring even more sharply at your words. You were right and he damn well knew it.
“And I know you can hear how wet I'm becoming right now,” you continued. “I can see how it's affecting you. You can’t hide that from me.”
“You're going to need to do a hell of a lot more than that if you want the Devil,” he countered.
Slipping your fingers into your panties, you grinned back at Matt as you ran them between your damp folds. “Oh, I know.”
Judging by the way he was shifting on the couch, his nostrils repeatedly flaring as his hands gripped the cushions, you could tell he was inhaling the scent of you. You'd been with Matt plenty of times to know exactly what your arousal did to him, but there was one thing that had never happened before, one thing you had never done.
Matt had never been denied a taste or a simple touch before. Until now.
“I told you earlier–I want the Devil tonight Matt,” you reminded him. “On his knees and at my feet.”
Matt huffed out a laugh, his gaze briefly flickering to the floor in front of you before it returned to where your fingers were still running back and forth delicately through your damp folds. You knew he could hear the wet sounds they were making and you knew the scent of your arousal in the air was only increasing with every pass of your fingers.
“You're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” Matt warned you.
“I know what I'm doing,” you replied.
“Do you?” he asked.
You slid your fingers towards your soaked entrance, your other hand sliding up beneath your shirt. The tips of your fingers barely grazed the underside of your breast and you saw Matt's grip tighten on the couch.
“If you want a taste,” you told him slowly, enunciating each word, “or a touch, Matt, you'll do what you're told. Otherwise you get nothing tonight. You hear me? Nothing.”
Matt’s lip curled back into a partial sneer at your words, his gaze somehow darkening even more at the thought. He clearly didn’t like the idea of you denying him the opportunity to pleasure you, let alone denying him a simple taste–something you’d already guessed he’d be exceptionally unhappy to hear.
“You wouldn’t,” he ground out.
“You can listen to me take care of myself, I’ll let you do that,” you continued, your hand snaking its way up to tweak a nipple as Matt’s lip tugged further back into a snarl. “But when I’m done and I fall asleep in bed afterwards, I know you'll still be awake smelling the scent of me lingering all over the apartment. And while I’m contentedly dreaming, you'll be laying there in bed as the sounds I made–that you love so much–replay over and over in your mind.”
Matt sat stiff on the couch, his elbows now resting along his knees as he leaned forward towards you. His head was cocked even further to the side, his lips still drawn back into a snarl that was bordering on animalistic at your words. His control over the Devil was slipping, that much you could see already. Though it wasn’t Matt that would be your biggest fight, you knew that, but you were certainly thrilled at the sight of him like this. The challenge of bringing the Devil to his knees next was only increasing the dampness pooling between your thighs.
“Really trying to push me over the edge, aren’t you?” he gritted between his teeth.
Slipping two fingers finally into yourself, you loosed a soft sigh at the sensation. On the couch, Matt struggled to contain himself as you slowly pumped your fingers into yourself, your hand on your breast tugging at your nipple. Matt’s knuckles almost turned white as he gripped the cushions tighter.
“Give me the Devil, Matt,” you demanded. “Stop holding back already.”
Visibly teetering on the edge of entirely losing his composure, Matt’s lip began to repeatedly twitch. A deep rumble vibrated in his chest at your words and you knew he was close to losing his control.
“Careful there, sweetheart,” he warned.
Pressing the heel of your hand against your clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you as you sunk your fingers deeper inside. Matt lurched to the edge of the couch cushion now, his body tensed and ready to pounce. He needed a nudge, just a little one, and then you’d have him.
“Let the Devil out, Matt,” you pressed.
The look on his face in conjunction with what you were already doing to yourself had the quietest little moan slip out of your lips. And that was all it took.
Matt’s demeanor shifted instantly. His eyes darkened to something predatory and dangerous before he launched himself off of the leather couch. An excited thrill shot through your body as he took just three brief strides to close the distance between you. And then he was standing before you, one hand darting out lightning quick before his fingers were tightly gripping you by the chin and tilting your face up towards his.
“You wanted the Devil, sweetheart?” he growled out in that familiar gravely tone. “You got him.”
“I said no touching,” you reminded him, your fingers pausing their movements as you stared back at him.
“Do you think I care about your rules?” he challenged. “Your body is begging for me right now. I can hear it.”
“No, it's not,” you disagreed, shaking your head in his hold. “And I know you'll follow my rules because I know you'd never do anything that I don’t consent to. And right now, I didn't say you could touch me, Devil.”
Frustration and annoyance flashed in his eyes as they focused on your mouth while you spoke. His teeth noticeably ground together, his fingers still gripping your chin. You arched an eyebrow at him, knowing full well no matter the situation, Matt would never pass one of your boundaries–even as the Devil. Another moment passed before the Devil growled in aggravation, his fingers abruptly releasing you before his hand dropped back to his side. A shudder of pride burned in you as he did. He wasn’t on his knees yet, but you were positive you'd get him there.
“Fine,” he spat. “I won’t touch you. But don’t think for a second you’re the one in control here.”
With a pleased grin on your lips, you slid your two fingers out from inside of yourself before removing them from your panties. The Devil’s head snapped down towards your hand, tracking its movement as you held up the two glistening fingers in the space between you both. He was almost immobile now, completely fixated on your fingers.
“Every time we’ve been together,” you began in a hushed tone, reveling in the way he was locked on to your fingers, “you always like to call me yours. ‘My good girl,’” you repeated. “So tonight, I want you to be my good little Devil.”
“Think I’m some pet to tame?” he ground out between his teeth. “Think you can control me?”
“Oh, I know exactly how you operate,” you assured him, watching the way he was still focused on your fingers. You knew the scent of your arousal so close to his face was taking every bit of his willpower to hold back from sucking your digits into his mouth. “Those senses of yours can get overwhelmed, and you’ve never been the most patient. Doesn’t help that I can see how much the scent of me is affecting you. You want a taste don’t you, Devil?”
A low growl reverberated through his chest in response. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as his gaze never wavered. Satisfied at his answer, you drew the fingers up to your mouth and slipped them inside, your tongue lapping over them instead of his. You grinned when another deep, irritated rumble vibrated in his chest. You knew you were beginning to do more than frustrate him now.
Slowly you slid the fingers back out of your mouth, enjoying the irritation evident on his face. His body was tense with his restraint, struggling to resist the urge to just tear your clothing off and have you. The thought that he knew he couldn't was incredibly exhilarating.
“Think you can keep teasing and taunting me without any consequences?” he questioned sharply. “You're pushing me, sweetheart.”
“Mmm, I think,” you hummed out as you turned towards the bedroom, “that you're all bark and no bite. You've got absolutely nothing to use against me tonight because there's only one thing I want.”
You gradually began to make your way to the bedroom, grinning when you heard his soft footsteps following after you. He was honed in on you now, his attention fixed. You just had to outlast his stubbornness and you'd have him.
“You really think you've got the upper hand here,” he asked, voice dark and low.
Pausing halfway to the bed, you glanced over your shoulder and saw him stop directly in the doorway. His expression was almost pained beneath his scowl.
“Well you're already following me like a dog,” you teasingly pointed out. “Leaves me to wonder what you think you could possibly tempt me with?”
The Devil's face darkened at your question, a devious smirk curling his lips upwards. “I can give you an entire evening of pleasure like you've never experienced before, sweetheart,” he promised. “Stop this little game now and I'll push your body past its limits until you can hardly feel it anymore. I can make you forget your own name for a few hours. You know I can.”
Walking the rest of the way to the bed, you felt a rush of warmth flood you at his words. You'd never slept with Matt when he was like this before, but you'd always been tempted. You were curious to know what the Devil would be like in the bedroom after all the times you'd seen him come home worked up from patrol, but despite how enticing his offer was, it still wasn’t what you wanted.
“The only thing I want,” you repeated carefully as you sat down on the end of the bed and faced him, “is you right here on your knees doing what I tell you to. And I know you can hear the truth in my words.”
You pointed at the ground in front of your feet, accentuating what you'd said. Another flash of frustration shone back at you in his eyes as his smirk entirely disappeared. His jaw tightened once more, determination to fight you still written across his face. Despite his rigid posture and the way he remained in the doorway, you noticed how he'd gone temporarily quiet. The knowledge that he had no leverage, no way to tease you and distract you, had him closer to breaking. You could feel it.
“Still need more encouragement?” you asked coyly.
Hands grabbing onto both your shorts and your underwear, you gradually pushed them down your legs before tossing them carelessly off to the side of the bed. The Devil’s hands began to clench and unclench at his sides but he didn't move from his place in the threshold. With your lower half now exposed, the unobstructed scent of your arousal was likely driving him mad. Lightly resting your hand along your stomach, the tips of your fingers just barely brushed the sensitive bundle of nerves as you settled in to give him the last few pushes over the edge.
“You have two options, Devil,” you told him, watching his nostrils sharply flaring back at you. “You can stand there and keep fighting me and I'll happily get off on my own just watching you. Or you can tell me that you'll be my good little Devil and I'll let you help me.”
A dangerous snarl tore out of his chest at your second option. The sound sent a delicious wave of arousal through your body, your skin practically humming in response. But he still didn't answer, continuing to remain silent. His lack of response had you grinning, especially when you caught the bulge now poking through his gray sweatpants.
“That your choice then?” you asked.
Fingers moving down a fraction, you began to gently draw circles over your clit. A soft, pleased sigh slipped out of your lips as you lowered back onto the bed, resting on one elbow. Eyes falling shut, you focused on pleasuring yourself, enjoying the fact that he was still standing in the doorway focused on you while you did.
“You're not going to get off right in front of me,” he snapped.
You opened your eyes, attention returning to him by the door. He'd taken a single step into the bedroom now, that pained expression becoming further visible on his face. That one step said more than he realized.
“I'll finish without you,” you warned him with a sly grin. “Show you how little I need you.”
Back arching along the bed, you caught the second step he took towards you as a feral snarl tore through the bedroom. Your finger began to move a little quicker as you added a bit more pressure along your clit, your breath coming in sharper.
“I'm not going to make this easy for you,” he growled.
Laughing lightly, your eyes fell shut once more as a shudder raced up your spine. It was an empty threat and you both knew it.
“Not a damn thing you can do, Devil,” you told him, breath coming in quick pants as another surge of pleasure raced through you. “You're not allowed to touch. Not until you–”
Your sentence broke off on a soft moan, the noise loud in the otherwise silent bedroom. With your eyes still closed, you could almost feel his senses raking over you, taking in the racing of your heart, the scent of your arousal, the blood rushing through your body, the flush in your cheeks.
“Not until you agree to be my good little Devil,” you finished, eyelids fluttering back open.
He’d taken another step closer now, standing barely two feet away from you. His jaw was tensed, his teeth grinding back and forth as the muscle repeatedly jumped in his cheek. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, his shoulders drawn up to his neck. You could hear his sharp breaths each time his nostrils flared now. Biting your lip, you tilted your head to the side as you once more slid your fingers through your damp folds, teasing your entrance. The sensation had your eyes almost closing, but you fought to keep them open, watching as he almost took another step closer.
“Last chance, Devil,” you told him. “Come here or I'll finish without you.”
A dark, almost guttural growl tore straight out of his chest in sheer frustration. Removing your hand from yourself, you sat up on the edge of the bed. His unseeing gaze once more snapped directly down towards your damp fingers, his tongue yet again darting out along his lips hungrily.
“Come here, Devil,” you ordered.
An almost imperceptible whine slipped out of his lips before he grudgingly closed the remaining distance between you both. You smiled at the sight, realizing he was on the cusp of submitting–even if reluctantly. Leaning closer towards him, you reached your hand up to his face. His sightless eyes managed to track the movement almost perfectly until you’d gripped him by the chin, your fingers intentionally near his mouth but not remotely touching it. A rough grunt fell out of him at your touch, his eyes narrowing back at you.
“You’re going to regret this later,” he warned. “I can promise you that, sweetheart.”
“We’ll see about that, Devil,” you murmured, still holding his chin. “But for now, you need to do what you’re told.”
His lip twitched in response, his eyes glaring darkly at you. Biting your lip, you gave a little tug downwards on his chin.
“On your knees, Devil,” you ordered.
A deep, rumbling snarl slipped out of his lips at your order and the way you’d tugged his chin, but you held your ground as you sat on the edge of the bed. Seconds passed as he stood there towering over you, a fire burning in his eyes that was a mix of desire, need, and sheer agitation. But then gradually, ever so slowly, you saw him finally and reluctantly sink down to his knees before you, his lips still curled back into a frustrated sneer. A slow, triumphant smile spread across your mouth as you continued to hold his chin firmly between your wet fingers.
“Are you going to be my good little Devil?” you asked.
“Enjoy this moment while you can,” he growled up at you. “Because it’s never happening again, sweetheart. I’ll have you on your knees–”
“Are you going to be my good little Devil?” you questioned more firmly, cutting him off mid sentence.
An irate growl rumbled in his throat. “Is it necessary to call me that?”
“Answer the question,” you ordered.
His eyes narrowed further back at you, his hands slowly coming up to rest along the bed on either side of your hips. A shudder ran through you as he gripped the mattress tight, your cunt clenching around air at the sight of him like this before you. His attention immediately snapped down to the space between your thighs, an almost choked noise getting caught in his throat.
“Yes,” he ground out.
Releasing his chin, you slowly set both of your legs over his shoulders before leaning back and resting your elbows along the bed. You stared down at him, comfortable on the bed as he sat gnawing on his bottom lip just before you, his sightless eyes staring longingly at one part of your body in particular.
“That’s my good little Devil,” you praised.
A sharp grunt met your words and you grinned. He might’ve been irritated, but he was technically still obeying.
“Do you want to get me off?” you asked him. “Is that what you want?”
“I want to make you feel so good you can’t do anything but scream,” he snarled back. “Want to hear that pretty little mouth crying up there. Show you how much you do need me, sweetheart.”
“Watch yourself, Devil,” you warned. “You’re getting a little too feisty down there.”
“What did you expect?” he snapped. “This is the closest thing you’re going to get to what you want with me. You can’t tame me. Can’t control me.”
Your eyes narrowed at his challenge. “Yeah? Take one taste, Devil. Go on.”
With his hands gripping the bed tighter on either side of your hips, he leaned in and swiped the flat of his tongue entirely up the length of you, as if trying to taste as much of you as he could. Your eyes snapped shut the second he’d touched you, the sound of his throaty groan cutting straight through the bedroom. Opening your eyes a second later, you saw his own eyes had closed, his face contorted into a mix of pleasure and pain before he released a long, low growl.
“You want more?” you whispered down to him.
His eyes snapped open at your voice, their focus finding your chin. He blinked a few times, his expression wavering between bliss and frustration.
“Yes,” he ground out.
“You’re going to be my good little Devil then, do you understand?” you asked.
“Yes,” he grunted.
“That’s a good little Devil,” you replied. “Fingers first. Prove you can behave, then maybe I’ll let you use your mouth.”
A frustrated noise rumbled in his chest in response, but he didn’t argue back this time. Instead, one of his hands released his tight grip along the bed before he lifted it over your leg and left it hovering in front of your soaked entrance. His lips twitched again before his tongue slipped out, gliding along the length of his bottom lip. A jolt of excitement raced through you at the sight, anticipation of what was about to happen taking hold of you as you held your breath, awaiting his touch.
Two of his thick fingers finally began to slide back and forth delicately along your entrance, teasing you just a little as your arousal gathered along his fingertips. Then slowly he slid them up through your folds towards your clit with a faint groan of pleasure. With the slightest pressure, he began lightly tracing the exact patterns to immediately cause your hips to squirm along the bed. A satisfied rumble met your ears as your eyes fell shut and your breath came in faster.
His other hand released the bed, grabbing the thigh resting along his shoulder in a tight vice as he yanked you further towards him. A surprised gasp flew out of you as you slid forward on the bed, your eyes reopening at the movement. You’d been about to chastise him for what he’d just done, but the sight of the devilish grin on his lips had your mouth momentarily going dry. As much as you wanted to appear confident in this situation, you couldn’t deny that the Devil was certainly a challenge, even if he was mostly obeying you now.
After a moment, his fingers traveled back down towards your entrance, the sensitive bundle of nerves above still desperate for his attention. But instead he slipped a single digit inside of you, sinking it in as far as it could go. Your breath hitched in response, your hips raising just a fraction off of the bed. The Devil immediately pushed you back down with the hand gripping your thigh, holding you still on the mattress.
“I want more,” he growled.
His eyes darted up to you as his finger began to pump in and out of you, the wet squelch with each thrust loud even to you. Your heart was hammering in your chest, your body begging to reach your climax after everything that had been leading up to this moment.
“And I can tell you do, too,” he said. “Don’t deny it.”
“Bit–bit mouthy for one who’s supposed to be behaving,” you stammered out, the continued waves of pleasure causing your mind to cloud.
“I want a taste,” he shot back, his finger pumping a bit more roughly into you as he said it. “I’m doing what you want, sweetheart. Now give me what I want.”
Your eyelids fluttered as he stuck a second finger inside, his pace moving agonizingly slow on purpose. Struggling to focus, you tried to formulate a coherent thought, but it was difficult to do with his hot breath washing over you as he worked.
“That sounded more like a command, Devil,” you replied, trying your best to stay focused. “Try that again.”
A frustrated rumble sounded in the room, mixing with the wet sounds of his fingers fucking you. Your breath was coming in shallower now, your body getting closer and closer to your climax. You knew he could tell, and you knew he’d do what you wanted before you came. Because you knew he’d want his mouth on you when you did.
His eyes closed as his head snapped to the side. A look of distaste crossed his features before he spoke. “Let me use my mouth…please.”
Your cunt tightened around his fingers when you heard the Devil actually beg you. The power you felt at that one word alone almost had you toppling over the edge, but you fisted the sheets in your hands and tried to hold on a bit longer.
“That’s–that’s my good little Devil,” you breathed out. “You ask, you don’t–don’t demand.”
The sound of his irritated growl broke on a whine this time and your eyes darted straight to him. His fingers were still sinking into you repeatedly, but it seemed as if his composure was breaking the wetter you were becoming.
“Please,” he ground out. “Let me get you there. The way I know your body is begging for it.”
Your breath hitched at his unexpected and sincere plea, but you found yourself wanting a little more. “Ask again,” you demanded, trying to keep your voice even.
“Let me taste you,” he began, his usually husky, dark tone laced with growing desperation. “Please, let me–let me take care of you how I know you need it. Please.”
Struggling to keep your orgasm from crashing into you, you nodded quickly. “Yes, use–use your mouth,” you whispered back.
The Devil didn’t even wait for you to finish your sentence before his face had lunged forward, his plush lips sucking your sensitive clit right into his mouth. The sensation had a sharp cry flying out of you, your head falling back over your shoulders. He began frantically sucking on your clit, his teeth lightly grazing it at one point. The sensation caused you to hiss in pleasure, your hips fighting against his hold on you. But as his fingers inside of you never ceased their movements, relentlessly fucking into you over and over, his other hand had slid up your thigh and over your stomach. His thick, single muscular arm was holding you firm to the mattress as he brought you even closer to the brink.
Your body felt like it was on fire with sheer pleasure, your back fighting his hold to arch along the mattress as your eyes had begun to roll back. You were close, so incredibly close. And that’s when you caught the sound of his hungry, vexed growls against your clit turning into high-pitched whines. Struggling to keep your focus, your breath repeatedly catching in your throat as you fisted the bed sheets tighter in your holder, you glanced down at the Devil. From your angle you couldn’t see much, but it almost looked as if he was struggling from rutting against the bed. The sight had a curse slipping out of your lips at just how desperate and aroused he was himself.
“Doing–alright–down there?” you panted out.
You were growing dizzy at the sensations his tongue and his fingers were giving you, your entire body feeling like it was vibrating. The Devil only responded with something like a choked moan, the sound muffled against you as he continued to diligently and determinedly get you off. That needy, desperate sound coming from the Devil–the same one criminals feared in Hell’s Kitchen’s streets–as he fought the urge to rut against the bed just from the taste of you, from the sounds your body was making in his ears, had you immediately hitting your peak.
One hand releasing the bed sheets, you reached out and gripped his forearm so tight your nails dug into his skin. He hissed against you just as your head fell limp over your shoulders, your eyes closing as your mouth went slack. A long, low moan gradually tore out of you just as you reached your climax. You felt the Devil slip his fingers out, instead using those against your clit as he worked you through your release. His mouth had latched onto your cunt, lapping at your release like a starved man. The bedroom around you filled with his strangled moans of pleasure and the wet, hungry licks of his tongue against you.
Body suddenly heavy, you sunk down into the mattress, your eyes blinking blankly up at the ceiling. Below you, the Devil’s movements had gradually begun to take an obvious shift. You felt soft, gentle laps at your entrance before his wet mouth was gently kissing and nuzzling at your inner thighs. Struggling to sit upright on the bed, you glanced down to see Matt’s half-lidded eyes as he continued nuzzling against your leg. Reaching a hand out, you gently began to card your fingers through his hair as you tried to catch your breath.
“Matty? You good?” you asked.
“Mmm,” he hummed out, planting another kiss against your skin. “Yes. You–you taste so good.”
You smiled softly down at him, your hand coming to lightly tap the arm he still had resting along your stomach. “Hey, come up here,” you whispered.
He gently kissed your thigh once more before he sluggishly rose to his feet. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the damp patch soaking the front of his sweatpants, your eyebrows rising.
“Matty, did you…?”
Sinking into the mattress beside you, Matt wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you towards himself with a huff. He buried his face into your shoulder, his eyes closing.
“I…guess I underestimated you,” he murmured into your skin. “That was–” he paused, teeth lightly nipping your shoulder. “I like you like that.”
“Oh you do, do you?” you teased back.
“Mhmm,” he hummed.
You grinned, resting your cheek against the top of his head as you tried to catch your breath. “We should probably get cleaned up, though,” you whispered.
Matt burrowed closer to your neck, releasing a soft sigh. “Mmm, in a minute, sweetheart,” he replied. “Let me just–just recover first.”
You laughed lightly, one hand gently resting along his thigh that was nestled beside your bare one. “Alright, my good little Devil,” you teased.
Matt’s lips pulled into a smile against your shoulder at the praise, a soft, contented hum vibrating in his throat. You had a feeling that after tonight he wouldn’t fight you so much the next time you asked for the Devil.
Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @millennial-birkin @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia @a-half-empty-g1rl @zomtart @justvalkyrie @steve-chandler
The Devil at Your Window |9: A Hard Problem|
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 3.7k [Series Masterlist]
Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty
a/n: Finally some spice has entered the story with our naughty, naughty Devil. Bad, Matt, you shouldn't be doing that! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer @keepingitlokiii @kezibear @dorothleah @sarahskywalker-amidala @1988-fiend @haruari @sleepysleepymom @marveious @sunflower-tia @fizanotfeeza @cloudroomblog @babygirlmurdock @writtenbyred @idontevenknow1359 @scriptedmoon @sarraa-26 @barnes21cz @loves0phelia @3sriracha @kmc1989 @midnightramble @marissamejia19
Chewing your nail, you stared down at the screen on your phone. You were currently on your lunch break mindlessly scrolling through The Bulletin's website for news updates in the city while you sat in the break room eating the lunch you'd brought from home. But when you'd almost immediately stumbled on a photo of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen on their website, you'd paused mid-bite of your sandwich.
It had been over a week since he'd last stopped by your apartment. He'd even frequented your Devil’s Pantry far less than usual during that time. You'd thought that maybe he just hadn't been going out as often at night, possibly taking a break or recovering from an injury. Because in the past when you hadn't seen him much over a period of time, he at least still stopped by and grabbed some water and protein bars or packets of trail mix from the container you left out for him. But now sitting here and seeing this article on The Bulletin's website was proof to you that he wasn't sitting at home–wherever that was for him–and that he had in fact been out and active in Hell’s Kitchen this week.
The title of the article had read ‘Masked Man Strikes Again,’ but you had barely managed to read the first few paragraphs before you'd scrolled back up to the poor quality photograph. You'd enlarged it on your phone, setting your sandwich down as the quality of the picture became worse when the image doubled in size. The index finger of your left hand lightly trailed along the line of his mask on his face, your heart sinking in your chest.
You probably shouldn't have pushed your luck with him last week. Trying to further rile him up by talking about the date and the kiss with Dylan had in hindsight been a bad idea. You were certain now that the Devil had been keeping his distance from you because he thought you were seeing someone. Clearly this photograph of him slinking into an alley sometime in the past few days was proof of that since he was still lurking around the city at night. It meant that he was still going out, he just didn't want to see you.
Sighing at the realization, you exited out of the website and locked your phone before tossing the device hopelessly down onto the table. Burying your face into the palm of your hands, you wished you could scream into them. The Devil’s visits had been a welcome distraction from your mundane life ever since he'd fallen onto your fire escape. Wondering when he'd appear at your window next each day had been something to look forward to, as pathetic as that sounded. Now you might not even have that anymore. Would you ever find him standing on your fire escape again? Or was he just permanently done with you?
As you sat there with your face in your hands, you began doing what you'd been doing all week–imagining things had gone differently the last time you’d seen the Devil. You should have openly flirted with him more, or maybe even just flat out confessed your stupid crush to him. On the slight chance that he genuinely liked you–which would explain the jealousy–at least he would have finally known the truth. Maybe he would've returned to your window by now.
It also didn't help that the image of his perfect ass was now permanently ingrained in your mind after that last visit. Shamefully you'd recalled it a few different times this week already when you'd been in your bed missing him. With his absence these past few days, you'd been thinking about him at night more frequently than usual, finding yourself unable to resist touching yourself to thoughts of him when you lay awake in bed.
Shifting awkwardly on your chair as a burst of heat suddenly awoke inside of you at those thoughts, you tried to push them back as they threatened to take over even now. You felt pathetic sitting there knowing that it took hardly anything to get you wound up when it came to him, but now was certainly not the place to be thinking about the Devil. Not like that. Even though each time you got off to your growing fantasies of him, you only wound up feeling worse afterwards. Especially knowing what you now had just discovered–that he was still going out at night and intentionally avoiding you.
All you wanted was for him to just come back to your window.
Matt had tried to avoid your apartment tonight like he'd done every other night that he'd been out this week, but somehow he'd found himself on top of your building anyway.
He knew he should go. You'd made it clear that you were seeing someone. He shouldn't keep showing up and flirting with you just to get a rise out of you. If you were on your way to developing a relationship with someone then he knew he should respect that.
But your absence from his nights out this week had him realizing just how much he'd grown to miss his banter with you. You always managed to make his bleak nights brighter and to say something surprising that kept him on his toes. He even missed the way you reacted just at the sight of him every single time he appeared at your window. Something about the way your heart skipped a beat before hammering in your chest as your pheromones went into overdrive in turn sent him into a frenzy–internally, of course. Because he wasn't going to ever actually act on his attraction to you.
Not that he could now since you were with that guy.
As he paced his way over to the edge of the building so he could drop down onto your fire escape, he told himself that he'd just stop by to see if you were even still leaving food and water out for him. If you were still filling the Devil’s Pantry, it'd be rude of him not to partake.
The only reason he'd even allowed himself to stop by your fire escape tonight was also because he knew it was late. On his way over, he’d overheard a conversation where someone had mentioned that it was just after one in the morning. Considering you had work tomorrow, Matt knew you'd already be asleep. There was no risk of you catching him outside your window tonight.
Landing with a soft thump on your fire escape, Matt remained in a crouch as he threw his senses into your apartment just to confirm what he’d already suspected. Rising to his full height as he picked up on your heart, he'd curiously noticed that it was beating faster than it should have been if you were asleep, which was strange since he'd caught the sound coming from your bedroom along with the faint rustling of your sheets. Which meant you were in bed right now. Had you woken in the middle of the night then? Or were you just struggling to fall asleep tonight?
Carefully he took two quiet steps closer to your window, trying to remain undetected as he attempted to figure out why you were awake so late tonight. But just as the toe of his boot met the side of the Devil’s Pantry that you had in fact left out for him beside your window, he heard a low buzzing sound while simultaneously being hit with the overwhelming and tantalizing scent of your arousal. The smell of it had momentarily struck him dumb as he stood outside on your fire escape, your shallow breaths suddenly loud in his ears.
That's when he realized what he'd stumbled on.
You were indeed in your bed right now–masturbating. He could hear the soft, wet sounds of your fingers methodically pumping in and out of yourself as he placed the faint buzzing noise as your vibrator. Unintentionally focusing closer on you inside, his senses quickly became overwhelmed by the shifting of your sheets as your body writhed along your mattress, the faint sheen of your sweat mingling with the sweet, siren call of your cunt even past the glass.
Stumbling a step back from your window, Matt roughly shook his head as he tried to clear his senses. He should not be listening to this. Especially because you were probably in there thinking about that guy right now. Grinding his teeth in irritation, Matt tried to focus on the sounds of anything else in the city right now–police sirens in the distance, a drunken fight two blocks away, an infomercial on the television two floors down–
Your soft moan tore through all the noise, somehow louder than all the rest. Matt felt his cock stirring further awake in his too tight pants.
“No,” Matt growled, sharply shaking his head again as he spun around on your fire escape. “Not like this.”
Trying to ignore the burning ache now growing between his thighs, he gripped the railing of your fire escape in both of his gloved hands. Shutting his senses off to the sounds of you inside of your apartment behind him, he flung himself over the side of the railing. He dropped down a couple of floors below onto another fire escape, his jaw tensing at the impact. But it didn’t help that the faint jolt when he’d landed had sent a tinge of pleasure through his thighs and straight up his spine.
With a frustrated snarl, he tried to focus on anything else right now. Someone in the building next door was watching what sounded like an action movie, the sounds of screaming and explosions a helpful distraction. Keeping his attention on the movie as he attempted to place what it might’ve been, he once more threw himself over the side of this fire escape as he continued his descent down the building until he reached the pavement. But as he’d tried to catch his balance on that last drop, his concentration broke and your shallow breaths once more filled his ears.
“Mmmph,” he heard you whimper a few floors above. “Fuck.”
The quiet curse had sounded as loud as if you’d whispered it straight into his own ear. Matt’s eyes snapped shut as he tried hard not to imagine the feel of your lips pressed to the shell of it as you’d spoken. Ducking around the corner of your building and into the nearby alley, your heavy breathing continued to plague Matt’s hearing.
Roughly he slammed a gloved fist against the brick wall beside himself, an aggravated roar barreling forth from his chest as he fought to tune you back out. He felt like every other sound of Hell’s Kitchen was slipping through his grasp right now. He couldn’t manage to hold onto anything else for long enough to keep you out of his head, the sounds from your bedroom steadily growing louder and louder in his ears. The strain in his pants was becoming more and more urgent and unbearable with every ragged breath and soft squelch of your fingers.
Part of him was desperate to turn around and climb back up the building to your fire escape and find out if your window was still left unlocked. He wanted to throw it open and let the essence of your desire that was so clearly permeating the air seep into his very skin. He wanted to stalk into your bedroom and tear the sheets off of your partially naked body and hear your startled gasp. Then he wanted to attach his mouth to the places your vibrator was currently touching, desperate to hear the sounds you’d make when he brought you right to the brink. He wanted to feel the tremble in your thighs when they clamped tight around his face just before you came on his mouth.
He wanted his fill of you. He wanted to take you from that asshole. Claim you as the Devil’s and show you how much better he was. How much better he could make you feel. How much louder he could make you scream and how many more orgasms he could give you. You’d never remember another name but the Devil’s when he was through with you.
Teeth clenched together, Matt once more slammed his fist into the brick beside himself and tried to focus on the throbbing in his knuckles instead of in his pants. His other hand rose up, running across his mouth in frustration. He was so ridiculously hard right now. Standing there in the alley, he felt his cock straining miserably against the confines of his already too-tight pants. It was uncomfortable, and the sounds of your breaths coming in even faster and sharper from above were only making things worse.
He should never have stopped by your damn apartment tonight.
He’d already been planning to head back to his apartment after yours to begin with, but now his desire to get back home had reached levels of utter desperation. There was no way he was going to be able to ignore the need for you now. He’d have to jerk himself off once he got home–and fast, because your whimpers were beginning to draw forth beads of pre-cum that were dampening the front of his boxers. If he didn’t make it back home soon, he’d probably lose it in your alley just listening to you fingering yourself.
“This is pathetic,” he snarled to himself.
Attempting to pay attention to his surroundings, Matt began to make his way back towards his apartment. Though no matter how much he kept trying to focus on literally anything else–a couple arguing a block over, the chatter of a group of people having a cigarette outside a nearby bar, even the ear piercing sound of a car alarm–your soft moans kept breaking through every other noise in the city. For some horrible reason his senses just refused to ignore you no matter how much he kept trying.
Each step he took as he awkwardly jogged back towards his apartment building was awful. His cock felt damn near ready to rip open the seams of his pants with how hard it had become, and he was aware of how strange his gait was–he'd never had to manage getting back home with an erection before and it felt absolutely embarrassing. Worse than tearing the ass of his pants. Repeatedly he’d fought the urge to reach down and even brush a hand over the hard bulge in his pants, hungry for any sort of stimulation to relieve the throbbing, painful desire that was taking over his every thought. His own breath had started to come in sharp, staccato pants as he made it over to his block across the street from yours, slinking around to the back of his building.
You were thinking about that guy , Matt tried to remind himself in the hopes of increasing his anger instead of his arousal as he began to climb the side of his building, making his way towards the roof. That’s what you were doing right now. Pleasuring yourself to thoughts of some other asshole who had no idea how amazingly selfless and thoughtful you were. Some asshole who didn't know that you liked to add extra chocolate chips to your boxed brownie mixes or how you stress cleaned when you were upset. He had no damn clue that you liked to burn marshmallow scented candles and watch romantic dramas before bed, or that you liked to curl up on your couch with two blankets instead of one.
And right now your mind was conjuring images of that other guy’s face while you vigorously fingered yourself– not his. And he hated that.
Matt's angry thoughts only backfired as the Devil’s fury and frustration only lead to his increased desire to further prove his sexual prowess to you. He kept imagining climbing in through your window instead of making his way back home and pushing you up against the wall before tearing those sweatpants you often wore right down your legs. He'd stuff his fingers deep inside of you until your knees wanted to give out and your moans broke off on sharp gasps. Then he'd bend you over the back of your sofa, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips as he buried his cock into you over and over while your hands uselessly clawed at the fabric of your couch for something to hold onto.
“Yesyesyesyesyes-”
Matt’s hand briefly lost its grip on the side of the building as the sound of you about to cum slammed into his ears. He’d momentarily slipped, catching himself at the last moment before he could actually fall down two floors and land painfully on his back.
“Shit,” he cursed.
If he didn’t focus, he’d end up not only cumming in his pants on the side of his building, but probably landing unconscious on someone’s fire escape right afterwards. And for obvious reasons, he didn’t need that to happen.
Squeezing his eyes shut tight, Matt tried hard to focus on something else. He noticed that someone in a nearby apartment on the fourth floor had burnt chicken in their oven only a couple of hours ago. It smelled so terrible that he could smell it even from outside, the scent practically burning his nostrils. Trying to stay focused on that, Matt finished climbing his way up to the roof. But as he'd pulled himself up and over onto the top of the building, he'd bumped himself against the concrete and let out a sharp groan of pleasure and pain.
In his momentary distraction, he once more could hear you from across the street, your growing whimpers only somewhat muffled by the distance, but they hadn't remotely lost their effect on him. Practically limping towards the roof access door that led back to his apartment, Matt finally caved. One gloved hand landed straight onto the bulge in his pants.
“Ah-ah-ah,” he hissed out.
He was so wound up that the slight pressure over his pants already had him about ready to cum. Hurrying faster towards the door, he sharply flung it open and darted inside his apartment. He'd had his pants unbuckled and his zipper undone before the door had even shut behind himself. Not even taking the time to make his way down the stairs to his living room, Matt's gloved hands shoved his pants and his boxers midway down his thighs, his hard cock springing forth in relief before he began frantically tugging at his gloves.
“Oh fuck-shit-yesyesyes-”
“He'd never fuck you like I could,” Matt caught himself growling at you, tossing his gloves to the floor before wrapping a hand around his freed cock. “Promise you that, angel. I'd–oh fuck– ”
A strangled groan flew out of his throat as he pumped himself into his hand just once, your building high-pitched whimpers already easily dragging him along towards an orgasm with you. He felt perverse for what he was doing right now, aware it was wrong, but he couldn't seem to stop. He’d already tried so hard to ignore you that now he’d just given in, his hand vigorously stroking his aching and overstimulated cock.
“I'd make you feel ten times better than he ever could,” he ground out through teeth, his hips bucking forward into his hand in punctuation with his words. “I'd –ahh shit– make you–feel–sogoddamngood. ”
He heard your sharp gasp which was soon followed by the noise of something like a moan mixed with a broken whimper, the delicious noise sounding as if you'd just finally cum. Anger and need simultaneously mingling together inside of him like an all consuming fire, his toes curling inside of his boots, Matt felt that distinct surge of his own release racing up his spine as he continued to fuck his hand.
“He–can’t–have you !” he roared into the room.
Warm, thick strands of his cum spilled forth, coating Matt's hand as he continued to work himself through his release. His breath was coming in rough, ragged pants now as he leant up against the wall nearby, entirely spent from the release and having tried so hard to block you out. Thankfully now the sound of you in your bedroom was no longer easy for him to hear, but the reason as to why he hadn’t been able to tune that particular private moment of yours out still eluded him.
Throwing his head back against the wall behind himself, Matt let out a frustrated groan. Not only should none of that have just happened, but now he had to face the very real fact of what he'd been denying for awhile. He was attracted to you and he wanted you. Badly. But you weren't available anymore, and even if you were, he highly doubted you were the type to get intimate with a masked man you knew nothing about. You didn't seem like the no-strings-attached-sex type. Though Matt also knew that wasn't a good idea anyway. That would not happen, he wouldn't let it.
Still trying to catch his breath, Matt reached up and tore the mask from off his head with his clean hand. Balling the fabric into his fist, he let out an irritated grunt for a different reason now. He wanted you but he was aware that he'd never be able to have you in any physical way because you could never know who he actually was. There was no way he’d ever reveal his real identity to you, and it wasn’t right for him to act on any of his desires when you knew nothing about him. Besides, he reminded himself bitterly, you were still with that guy .
Matt expelled a long, sharp breath in frustration. He knew after what had just happened that he'd also have to keep avoiding your place. Because he wasn't sure he could just stick to the teasing banter with you after what he’d just done, not with the things he was aching to do to you still running through his mind. He’d just have to keep trying to avoid you.
Sirius: Do you want to shag? As friends?
Remus: You shag your friends?
Sirius: Well, it’s a recent thing. It started today when I realised that you are my friend and I want to shag you.
the bitches traumatized by saltburn would never survive the fics in my ao3 history
meeee
Regulus: um Sirius, I have to tell you something. I’m gay-
Sirius: oh my god bitch ME TOO
Regulus: -and I’m dating your best friend
Sirius: I-
Sirius: oh my god bitch ME TOO
Devil’s Work
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings: 18+!!!! my god this is so NSFW please don’t read if you’re under age my god. oral (f!recieving) this is literally only matt taking care of his lady so dom!matt (i guess?) THAT FUCKING SLUTTY CHAIN OF HIS MY GODDDD !!!!!!! also some religious stuff (not really a kink but just to be safe!)
Taglist: @bellaxgiornata @abucketofweird @sleepysleepymom
Author’s note: Like literally all of us, I could not get this .01 second clip of darling Matthew doing to TOWN on that neck with his slutty little gold chain. I have also never ever written smut before so you all have to be nice to me (kidding, but please be kind I’m sensitive LMAO) Enjoy my sweets!!!!
˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖
Matthew Murdock, where do you even begin with him? For starters, the man is like an angel sent from heaven above. Never in your life have you dated somebody more understanding, caring and passionate in your life. Somebody that checks all your boxes. There was a side of Matt that he has only told you about but he has never shown you.
Daredevil.
When Matt told you that he was the masked vigilante running around on roofs all hours of the night, you were rightfully upset. All the countless lies about where he has been. You thought he had been cheating for the longest time. You finally confronted him after being so frustrated with the lies.
“So are you cheating on me?! Is that why you have scrapes on your chest and a bruise? Who is it, Matt?” Tears welled up in your eyes as your voice cracked.
“No—I, I would never think for a second to give another woman what I give you. I love you and only you.”
“That doesn’t sound convincing! Matt, all the clues are there. You’re out late at night, I have no idea where you are. I am up like a nervous fucking wreck.. I—I can’t handle this anymore,” you held your head in your hands as you tried to steady your breath.
“Do you really want to know?” Matt stepped towards the closet.
“Yes, my God with all my fucking chest. Please Matty, I love you too much. I don’t want it to be true that you found better.”
“Fine,” Matt opened the closet doors and pulled out his father’s old boxing trunk. Your head cautiously turned to the side as your heart rate sped up. Matt’s breath was shaky unbuckling the clasps of the trunk. Moving the two top shelves off revealing something red. His fingers brushed the crimson red horned helmet, he grabbed it and turned around with it in his hands. “I’m Daredevil.”
It’s been six months now since you had the conversation with Matt about his other side. You have your moments with it, like aiding him to health after being beaten half to death and making sure he’s somewhat presentable for court in the morning. It gives you anxiety, but you know Matt, you know his skills. You see him on the news, and feel secure that he’s doing the right thing.
Tonight was different. He’s usually back at the apartment by 2AM the absolute latest. It’s almost 2:30AM and he hasn’t made a single peep about being home late. You start frantically Googling if the police found Daredevil dead in a river, or hung up in front of the church.
Doom scrolling on your phone, you heard the roof door unlatch. Letting out a relieved breath, you got up in front of the couch and hurried over to the stairs.
“Thank God. I was getting worried, Matty. I was afraid I was going to have to call Foggy or Karen and ask if they’d seen you.”
Matt made his way down the steps removing his gloves and helmet as he made his way down. He stalked his way over to you, placed a callused palm on the back of your neck and kissed you like you’ve never been kissed before. This has a purpose to it, hunger. Desperate for more. Your hand landed on his leather covered bicep as you moaned into his mouth practically begging for him to kiss you more.
“Shower,” Matt demanded. You thought Matt came home. No, this was still the Devil out to play. You kind of liked it though.
Walking to the bathroom, you stripped off all your clothing, turned the shower on, got in and waited for Matt. Letting the hot water run down your naked body, your eyes fell shut as your hands started roaming your body. Hearing the bathroom door open and shut again, Matt shortly joined you.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about how badly I needed to touch you tonight,” Matt’s hands traced your sides and landed on your ass, causing your head to fall back in pleasure.
“Then why did it take you so long to get home?” Your hands fiddled with the gold cross dangling from his neck.
“Cops were taking too long to show up. I eventually just tied them to a pipe on a roof and hoped somebody could find them,” Matt said as his lips kissed up your neck. Your breath hitched as Matt’s teeth grazed the spot where your neck meets your clavicle.
Grabbing his face to pull him closer to that sweet spot on your neck and letting out a breathless moan.
“Matt,” you breathed out as he began to kiss down your body, getting on his knees before you.
Matt put one of your legs on his shoulder to get a better angle of you. Matt hungrily kissing your inner thighs, making sure to antagonize you with each one. Gazing down at him making his way to your center, pushing his hair back so you can get a better look at his face reaching dangerously close to your heat.
“Fuck, Matt, I can’t wait any longer, please,” you pleaded him. You felt his smirk against his thigh and he looked up to you.
“Good girls have patience, sweetheart.”
Matt has never called you good girl in that tone before. And boy, did it do something to you. Matt caught the skip in your heartbeat which caused him to run his fingers along your folds. Your knees nearly buckled at his light touch as you let out a whiney moan.
“You really are letting the Devil out, huh?” you said, sucking your teeth.
“Oh, we’re just getting started,” Matt’s voice was a deep growl. Unlocking something feral in him, his mouth dove to your pussy, getting a surprised high pitched moan out of you.
Your hand immediately went to grab the slippery tile wall for some leverage as Matt devoured you below.
“God, fuck,” you breathlessly let out. Your hand grabbing onto his shoulder leaving nail marks on it. Matt was eating you out like you were his last meal on earth. Trying to grab whatever you can so you don’t fall to your knees as he sucked on your clit and entered two fingers inside you.
“Talk to me, sweetie. Do you like that?” Matt said.
“God, yes, I need you to fuck me, Matthew,” you said trying to catch your breath as Matt hooked his fingers up inside you. Matt took his fingers out of you and stood up. Pressing your back against the cold tile, causing your skin to prick up as the hot water wasn’t touching you anymore.
Matt took hold of your face and fiercely kissed you, getting a mix of his saliva and yourself. Both of you moaning against each other’s lips, your arms draped over his broad shoulders, as he scooped you up against the wall.
Your tongues intertwined with one another as you felt his hardness against you, just aching to enter.
“I’ve got you,” he said against your mouth as he slowly entered you.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, adjusting to his girth. “Mm, fuck, Matt.”
Your hands gripped his shoulders as he pumped in and out of you. Your moans got louder as his pace quickened. His biceps flexing to hold you up as he was fucking you, deeper and deeper with each thrust.
“You take me so good. That’s my girl,” Matt set you down and turned you around against the glass of the shower door. Your nipples puckered against the glass and Matt thrusted himself into you. His one hand on the front of your throat and one on your stomach. His pace quickened and his cross gently tapping between your shoulder blades with each thrust.
“Matty, I’m about to cum,” you whined out.
“Not yet, I’m not done with you,” Matt snarled. His lips met the back of your neck, starting to nip at it. The room filled with your moans and Matt’s grunts. “You feel so good, my girl.”
Your body was practically begging to orgasm all over Matt. His cock hitting the right mark every thrust, you didn’t want it to end, but exhaustion was quickly taking over you.
“Please, please, I’m almost there,” you become more breathless. Matt’s hand lowered to your clit and started to go in circles.
“Fuck, oh my god, I’m so close,” you cried out as Matt was edging you towards your orgasm.
“Cum for me, sweetheart,” Matt’s hands on your hips now, thrusting deeper and rougher each time. “You’re doing so good for me.”
Your own hand reached towards your clit, rubbing in circles for only a few seconds before Matt’s hand grabbed your wrist and pinned your hands against the glass.
“That’s my job to make you cum.” Matt growled in your ear, sending you over the edge.
“Oh, God,” you said through your gritted teeth.
“God has nothing to do with this, sweetheart. He sent the Devil for you,” Matt bit your neck and sucked on it, definitely leaving a mark for you to deal with.
Letting your orgasm overtake you, letting all of Hell’s Kitchen know who is fucking you into oblivion. Matt’s orgasm shortly following yours, he pulled out of you.
Turning yourself around to face him, your legs nearly giving out underneath you, Matt let out a chuckle, holding you up. Trying to catch your breath, Matt gently kissed your lips. You looked at Matt’s scratch marks you so graciously gave him, letting your hand run over them, meeting with the chain of his cross, taking it in your left hand and kissing it.
Matt and yourself finished up the shower. Stepping out, you looked in the mirror, examining your neck. Matt came up behind you and started sweetly kissing your shoulders.
“How will I explain to my job why I’m wearing a scarf in 86 degrees?”
“Raccoon attack. You took that little beast on with your own hands and it put up a fight,” Matt devilishly smiled at you in the mirror.
“Yeah sure, because I’m the raccoon wrangling type,” you rolled your eyes.
“I expect nothing less actually,” Matt matter-of-factly said.
You laughed at him, turning around kissing his lips and he deepened it.
“Something tells me that was only round one out of whenever the sun comes up.” You slyly said.
“Like I said, we’re just getting started,” Matt picked you up and brought you to your shared bedroom.
“Let the Devil out,” You kissed him passionately, mentally coming up with reasons to call out of work tomorrow.
matt murdock, my favourite manwhore
me logging onto tumblr after consuming a new piece of media
Seeking Forgiveness [Part Nine]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4k [Series Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader, mentions/fear of miscarriage
a/n: Long time no update, I know. I was stalled with this fic because it wasn't supposed to be long, but then it grew into something bigger and needed a new direction and it took me a bit to figure that out. Now I think I've found it. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Matt’s fingers slowly ran over the braille document on the table before himself, his mind struggling to focus on the work he was supposed to be accomplishing right now. He'd promised Fog yesterday at the office that he'd help him sift through some more information for a case they'd been working on first thing in the morning, but his mind just couldn't stay on task. Repeatedly he'd had to run his fingers over the letters just to get a couple of them to form words in his mind, but then in mere seconds he'd forgotten what he'd just read.
But how could he focus on work right now with what he was doing later today? The only thing he could think about since the moment he’d woken up and shuffled out of his bedroom this morning was you. Because today was Saturday. It was the day you’d agreed to meet with him for that coffee where you’d planned to have an important conversation with him. And as much as Matt had tried not to let himself hope for too much to come from this talk, he couldn't stop that hope from growing inside of himself. It had been steadily growing brighter and brighter ever since you’d first agreed to meet the other night.
As his fingers traced the braille letters of the same line on the page yet again, Matt could feel the weight of Foggy’s eyes on him from across his kitchen table. He could tell Foggy had begun to notice his behavior, his increasing annoyance becoming apparent in the way his fingers had been steadily tapping faster against the table in less of an absent fidget and more of an agitated rhythm.
Once more Matt tried to read the line again, retracing his fingers over it as he leaned further over the document, as if getting closer to it would somehow help him to concentrate. But then he found his mind once more diverting from its task, instead thinking of himself sitting with you over coffee in only a matter of hours. Because soon he'd actually be talking to you, hearing your voice again, possibly even the sound of your laughter that he so sorely missed. And if he was lucky, maybe you'd let him hold you in his arms again, even if it was just to say goodbye.
“Alright,” Foggy said in exasperation, slumping back in his chair. “What is it that's got you so distracted? Because I've been here for almost a half an hour now and you haven't even read the page that's been sitting in front of you for just as long. Is it some Daredevil thing that's on your mind? Because buddy, that can wait until later tonight. We have actual legal work to accomplish right now.”
Matt released a defeated sigh, sitting back in his chair and pushing the document away from himself as his attention shifted over to Foggy. He felt guilty for not being able to focus on work–a problem he'd truly struggled with for far longer than just this morning if he was being honest. Ever since he'd learned you were pregnant his mind was often elsewhere.
“It’s nothing to do with that. It's just–I'm meeting with her this morning. To talk over coffee,” Matt told him.
Foggy suddenly sat up straight in his chair, the annoyance in his body language immediately disappearing. He said your name in question, the tone of it hopeful.
“Yeah,” Matt acknowledged with a nod. “She agreed to talk and that's all I can focus on. I'm sorry, Fog. I just–just can't think about anything else because I don't want to mess this up with her. I doubt she'll give me another chance to sit down with her.”
“I don't know man,” Foggy disagreed. “I think she wants things to work between you both. From what I hear, it sounds like she's just scared.”
Matt pulled a face, his head canting to the side. “Scared?” he repeated. “Scared of what?”
“Of things not working out between you both,” Foggy answered. “I think you both really want the same things. And from what I’ve heard, I think she’s scared you might hurt her again.”
Matt frowned as he shifted his attention away from Foggy, his right hand reaching up to messily run through his hair. He wasn't certain of the truth in everything Foggy had just said. Matt had a feeling that he wanted far more from you than you wanted from him. And that scared him . But he absolutely refused to ever be in a situation to let you down again. He’d learned from his mistake–he would never break a promise to you again.
“So what exactly are you both planning to talk about this morning?” Foggy questioned. “Just the baby? Or…is there talk about you two getting back together?”
Matt's hand ran another pass through his hair in nervous frustration. Of course that's one of the things he’d wanted to discuss with you, but he was certain that particular topic wasn't even on the agenda for this morning. It probably wasn’t even remotely on your mind. It didn’t matter if you’d asked him to hold you in your bed the other night after the scare you’d had because he’d known exactly what that had meant. He was just happy that at the very least, you found his presence comforting still.
“I think we're just talking about me being more involved with the baby,” he answered. “That’s all the talk is about. And don't get me wrong, I'm happy we're even discussing that after the mess I made of things over the past few months. Because I do want to be more involved in things with her and our daughter even if she hasn’t been born yet. But I…”
Matt trailed off, the frown deepening on his lips as his focus dropped down towards the table. He heard Foggy lean forward, resting his elbows along the surface of it as his pulse accelerated in anticipation.
“But what?” he pushed.
Licking his lips nervously, Matt's eyes slowly closed. “I want more,” he admitted aloud. “And I know after how I messed things up that I don't deserve it with her. She's far too good for me, Fog. I get it. But I still want it.”
“Want what, exactly?” he asked. “The relationship?”
“Yes,” Matt answered immediately. “And I still want her to move in with me like we had been planning before everything fell apart and she found out she was pregnant,” Matt confessed, finally bearing his heart to Foggy. “I want her here . I want to set up the crib in our room that’ll be our daughter’s bed. I want them all in that room,” Matt said, gesturing behind Foggy to his bedroom, “where I can sleep next to both of them every single night. Knowing they're both safe with me. And I want to make space in the closet and the dresser for both of their things. I want to accidentally pull out baby pajamas instead of a tie in the mornings.” A sad smile tugged at Matt’s lips as he imagined everything in his mind while he spoke. “I want her to keep that growing stockpile of diaper boxes in her apartment right over there,” he continued, gesturing a hand towards the closet past his couch where he kept his Daredevil suit. “And I want to wake up and make coffee to the sound of a baby babbling.”
Tears were beginning to sting at Matt’s eyes as a flood of emotion began to well inside of him. He'd never realized quite how much he had been wanting until he’d suddenly given voice to it.
“I just want her to be here so that I can make her breakfast in the morning and dinner in the evening,” he continued softly. “I want her here so I can rub her back when she's throwing up or her feet when they're sore after work. I just–”
He paused, wincing. He found himself wanting so much that he never realized he'd even wanted until you had come into his life. But how would he ever be able to have any of that? After how he'd ended things with you and walked out on you when you'd begged him to stay? How did he get you to still move in with him? Let him be a part of your life again? Trust him again?
“I just want it all,” he whispered, fighting back the burn of tears. “But that's not what this talk is about today, and I understand that.”
“You could still tell her,” Foggy suggested gently. “You could still let her know how you feel, Matt. Be open with her about your feelings.”
Matt shook his head, his heart feeling leaden in his chest. “No,” he told him. “I think that's the last thing she wants to hear right now. I can't push my luck, Fog. Maybe someday I can tell her all of that, but I don't think today is that day.”
“I don't know, man,” Foggy countered.
“I can't ask for too much when I don't deserve it,” Matt said. “She needs to know I'm serious first, so that's my focus. I'll take whatever she gives me and show her that I mean it when I say I want to be a part of things. That I’ll really be there when she needs me.”
“For the record, I don’t exactly agree with that route,” Foggy told him. “But if you think telling her how you feel will somehow push her away instead of bring her closer, then I’m not about to argue because you’re obviously not going to listen. I’m just happy to hear that you’re both sitting down together to talk finally. We’re all rooting for the both of you to figure this all out, Matt.”
Matt’s attention focused on Foggy across the table from him. He heard the truth in his words with how steady his heartbeat had been. It felt good to know at least his friends believed in him. But he knew it would feel amazing to finally have you believe in him again, too.
You didn’t have to search hard to find Matt. He’d sent you a text when you’d left your apartment and made your way to the coffee shop letting you know that he’d already arrived early and grabbed a table. And now there he was, sitting in a corner booth with a coffee in front of himself and another across the table from him. A wave of nerves hit you at the sight of him in his dark jeans and snug-fitting gray shirt, your stomach twisting anxiously as the reality of sitting down with him actually hit you. It had been so long since you’d both really sat down together to talk; the only other time had been earlier this week on the night he’d shown up at your apartment because he’d heard your panic. But that had been under entirely different circumstances than this.
Matt’s head instantly spun in your direction as the door to the shop shut behind you. You figured he’d probably picked up on your strong reaction to seeing him, and that only increased the nerves running loose in your stomach. Beginning to make your way over towards the corner booth where he sat, his covered gaze focused on you, you chewed your bottom lip while awkwardly maneuvering your small bump between the tables and chairs. Briefly you were reminded of your third date at this very coffee shop with Matt. The memory of it had you longing to be able to slide into the booth beside him and wrap your arms around him now, desperate for some of his strength to transfer to you.
“Hey, Matt,” you greeted lightly, slowly sliding into the bench across from him. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long on me.”
A timid smile spread over his lips as he shook his head. “Not at all. Though I already ordered you a coffee.” His hand gestured to the cup now in front of you. “Vanilla latte, iced. I hope that’s okay. If not, I can grab you something else.”
“No,” you said, a nervous smile forming on your own lips as you shook your head, getting comfortable in the booth. “It’s perfect, actually. Thank you. I’ve been on an iced vanilla latte kick for weeks now.”
The smile on Matt’s mouth turned sheepish as you reached out and picked up the ice cold cup. You drank down a sip of the coffee, reveling in how good it tasted as you watched Matt’s hand awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck.
“So I’ve heard,” he said. “Karen mentioned that the other day actually. I figured it would be a safe bet.”
“Oh,” you said. “That makes sense then.”
Lowering the cup back to the table, you shifted anxiously in your seat. Normally things had never been this tense between you and Matt, but you weren’t certain how to navigate whatever the pair of you were now. You weren’t entirely sure how to just be around him anymore, especially not while currently carrying his child.
“So how’re things at the office?” you asked him.
“Good,” Matt answered. “Busy. There’s a handful of cases that we’re working on and I think we’re all realizing we may have overextended ourselves, but we’ll figure it out.”
You nodded, your finger toying with the condensation on the outside of your plastic cup. “That’s good. How’s uh–” you paused, not certain you were allowed to be asking him something so personal, but the question had already started to come out before you could stop it, “–how’re things going at night? With, well, you know…?”
Matt sent you a small smile, his covered gaze focused on you from across the table. Your eyes dropped back down to your coffee cup, your heart beating a little harder. You forgot the effect he had on you, but with him sitting right there after months apart, you couldn’t entirely ignore it now.
You missed him.
“Also good,” he answered. “Not quite so busy, but still…busy.”
“Right,” you muttered awkwardly.
How the hell were you supposed to talk about the baby growing inside of you when you could barely look at him to discuss normal pleasantries? It felt so wrong being so awkward with him as you sat across the table. You found yourself struggling with this meeting more than you’d anticipated, wishing things just felt like they used to be between you both.
“How’re you doing?” Matt asked softly.
The gentle tone had caught you off guard, your gaze flitting back up towards his face. He looked just as nervous as you felt. And Matthew Murdock didn’t generally get nervous.
“Do you want the polite response I usually give people?” you half-joked. “Or do you want the honest answer to that question?”
“The honest one,” he replied.
“Well,” you began, your gaze dropping back down to your coffee cup, “I’m tired all the time. I’ve probably finally reached your level of tired.”
You paused, smiling down at your cup when you heard him laugh lightly across the table from you. The sound had a warm, pleasant sensation gradually settling in your stomach.
“I almost always have a headache I can never seem to get rid of,” you continued. “I’m guessing that’s something to do with the hormones and increased blood flow. And I feel like my lower back has a personal vendetta against me as of late.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, amusement in his tone. “How’s the nausea?”
You shrugged a shoulder, your eyes once more returning to his face. Internally you cursed him for being so handsome. It only made you long to grab him and kiss him like you used to be able to. Clearing your throat, you tried to ignore that thought.
“Better,” you answered. “Not magically gone like I somehow assumed it would be once I got out of the first trimester, but I don’t want to vomit all the time. Though uh–”
You paused as a grin spread over your mouth, noticing how it was quickly mirrored on Matt’s face as his head tilted curiously to the side. That flutter of warmth in your stomach felt like it was steadily heating you from the inside at the sight of it.
“What?” he pressed curiously.
“So when you’re pregnant,” you began, the grin remaining on your lips, “your sense of smell heightens. Also because of the hormones, I assume. But I’d wanted to tell you about that little symptom the moment I started experiencing it because I figured if anyone else would understand how gross passing a dumpster smells, it’d be you.”
“You’re certainly not wrong,” he agreed with a chuckle.
“And that symptom hasn’t exactly disappeared yet,” you told him, your grin having grown into a smile. “So some things still make me want to puke. Particularly the smell of bell peppers for some unknown reason.”
“Duly noted. I’ll make sure not to bring any near you,” Matt teased. “But I’ve read that ginger helps–”
You raised a hand, cutting him off and shaking your head as you pulled a face. Matt’s brows furrowed beneath his dark lenses, his mouth suddenly closing.
“Sorry,” you said, your stomach churning. “It’s just that I tried using those hard candies they make for morning sickness so much that the ‘g’ word now makes me immediately want to puke. They’ve had the reverse effect on me.”
“Oh,” he breathed out, the smile falling from his lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“That’s alright,” you assured him, picking up the cup of coffee from in front of you again. “I didn’t expect you to.”
That uncomfortable, awkward silence fell over the pair of you again. You took a sip from your cup, watching as Matt’s left hand on the table began anxiously tapping along it. Swallowing down your drink, you supposed you should probably discuss the real reason you were both here.
“So uh,” you began, clearing your throat as you set the coffee cup back onto the table, “we should probably talk about the baby.”
Matt nodded, a tense smile now drawing itself across his lips. As if he was nervous about this topic of conversation.
“You were saying the other night that you wanted to be more involved?” you asked.
“Yes,” he answered earnestly. “If that’s alright with you, of course. I know she’s not exactly here yet, but I’d like to be as a part of things as I can be.”
Eyes dropping back down to your coffee cup, your index finger smeared a drop of condensation along the side of it. There was a heaviness in the air between you both, one you didn’t need Matt’s senses to detect.
“How involved?” you asked softly. “You want updates if something is going on or…do you want to actually attend appointments with me?”
Matt perked up in the booth across from you, the movement drawing your attention back over to him. He was sitting a little straighter now, something hopeful written across the features of his face even with his glasses on.
“Would that be alright?” he asked. “If I wanted to go to some of your appointments with you?”
“I suppose so,” you answered slowly. “But I don’t know how interesting they’d be for you. Unlike the rest of us, you don’t need technology to hear her heartbeat. I’m assuming you’ve already been listening to her since I got here.”
Another sheepish smile slipped onto his lips. “You wouldn’t be wrong,” he admitted. “I’ve grown quite fond of the sound of her heartbeat. Especially hearing it beating so close to your own.”
A flush crept up your neck, your gaze dropping back down to your coffee as one hand nervously began spinning your cup on the table. You hadn’t expected him to tell you that, or for how it made you feel.
“I have an appointment in a couple of weeks,” you told him, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks. “I can let you know the details when it gets closer if you’d like to come with me.”
“I’d like that,” he replied. “A lot, actually.”
Nervously gnawing on your bottom lip, your gaze still averted from him, you weren’t sure how to broach the next thing you’d considered bringing up. Matt had wanted to be more involved, but how much more did he truly mean?
“So you also said that you wanted to be around when I didn’t necessarily need you,” you began carefully, your eyes slowly drawing back up to his face. “What’d you mean by that exactly?”
You saw the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his finger tapping faster atop the table. His other hand reached up to readjust his glasses along the bridge of his nose before he spoke.
“I know we’re not together,” he answered slowly, “but I’d like to spend time together. With both of you. If that’s okay? Not–not all the time. Like I said, I know we’re not together and I’m not going to delude myself into thinking things are other than what they are right now. But I’d like to help you out if I could. Cooking or cleaning occasionally so you can just rest. Grabbing groceries if you need. Anything like that.”
“You…really want that?” you asked, eyes narrowing curiously. “Especially with how busy you are?”
“I want to help,” he assured you.
You nodded slowly, aware that having him around you more often would only make you miss him more. But if things were ever going to progress back to how they once were between you two, you figured this was a good first step to reaching that.
“Okay,” you whispered.
His dark brows jumped up onto his forehead in surprise. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you answered. “If we’re going to figure this parenting thing out together, I suppose we should start figuring it out before she’s born. Right? It only makes sense.”
A broad smile broke out across Matt’s face immediately. The sight of it nearly blinded you with how happy he’d suddenly looked.
“You mean that?” he asked. “About doing this together–raising her together? Do you really mean that?”
“With how much you clearly seem to want to be a part of this,” you told him, “it seems cruel not to try to see if things can work out. So yeah. I think we should focus on taking small steps towards that and see if things can actually work out eventually so we aren’t just…co-parenting.”
There was a faint tremble to his lips that you’d just barely caught despite that beaming smile on his face. The sight instantly reminded you of the other night when he’d asked for permission to feel your baby bump. He’d gotten so emotional the moment he’d felt your daughter move and experiencing that with him had felt special in a way that you couldn’t exactly describe. You just knew that after that moment, you didn’t want to keep any more of those experiences from him. Not if he was truly going to give you and your daughter all of himself.
“Plus, I could use help thinking of a name,” you added with a small smile. “She’s not just mine, after all.”
Matt sniffled softly, his lips still faintly trembling. He almost seemed to be on the verge of crying, and you wondered if he wasn’t wearing the glasses right now, if you’d have seen his eyes rimmed in red and filled with tears.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his hand sliding across the table towards you. “For giving me this chance despite everything.”
Your eyes dropped down to his outstretched hand, studying it for a moment. You knew what that hand meant beyond the obvious gesture. Hesitantly your right hand released your coffee cup and slowly slid across the table towards Matt’s. Carefully you wrapped your fingers around his, your heart beating a little faster when his gripped yours in return.
“She deserves both of us,” you whispered. “As long as we can find a way to make this work.”
Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @thychuvaluswife @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this-is-music @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @swissy23 @babygorewhore @that-girl-named-alex @warsaur @lareinaisabelle @pazii @senjoritanana @mischiefmanaged71511-blog @xxdrixx @jess-rye @hannahbohen @theclassicvinyldragon @karolamurdock @theoraekenslover @mr-underhills-things @jennifer0305 @capswife @amazexng @blackhawkfanatic @ladywholikesreading @powellssaturn @sunflower-tia @indestructeible @allllium @gamingfeline @kezibear @vallovesthedilfs @the-skys-musical-echo @justanerd1 @better305 @n3versatisfied @scriptedmoon @loves0phelia @roxytheimmortal
Could I please request one where reader is dating Frank but kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop, wondering when or if Frank’s going to break up with her constantly since her last boyfriend (and several ex “best” friends) left/ghosted/broke up with her unexpectedly for no reason so she doesn’t know why and worries about her body/everything she wears and everything she says and does and is trying not to do anything wrong so Frank doesn’t do the same to her but Frank of course catches on, finds out the problem and makes her see different and that’s she beautiful and worth staying and being cared for even though it’s hard to believe because no one has ever chosen her and wanted to stay before…
Thank you, I love your work ❤️😊
I CAN SEE A LOVE RESTRAINED ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: You’ve been hurt one too many times, and letting Frank in isn’t as easy as you’d like it to be.
Warnings: Abandonment/trust issues, body image issues, angst, hurt/comfort, reader is friends with Matt, feminine nicknames, language
Word count: 3.2k
Author’s note: Thank you so much for the support, anon! I definitely understand this feeling that you described and it really sucks. That said, I’m positive people will appreciate you and see how wonderful you are, don’t give up <3
It was fair to say that your past relationships, romantic as well as platonic, had left their mark on you. You were a naturally affectionate and loving kind of woman but being left on multiple occasions had hardened you, made you more reluctant to share the love that you had within you. It was a natural reaction — you just didn’t want to get hurt again, and so, you settled for keeping people at a distance, never really allowing yourself to lower your defenses enough to let anyone in.
That proved to be extremely hard when you met Frank. He was handsome and intriguing, not a very talkative guy but he had effortlessly made you smile and laugh, regardless. He had been reserved about you, too, mostly because he wasn’t looking for anything casual nor serious, and he certainly didn’t trust Red to find him the kind of company he liked. But when his friend of sorts had insisted on introducing you to him, annoyingly persistent, he had caved in and figured it couldn’t hurt to give a chance to the person Red spoke so highly of.
”How come you ain’t together if she’s so perfect?” Frank had questioned, fully suspicious of Matt and his intentions, but the man had quickly laughed him off.
”I don’t think we’re meant to be anything more than friends. But she’s a wonderful person and I think you’d hit it off. I’m not just doing this for you, I think she could use some company, too”, Matt had explained, not entirely acting with your blessing. In fact, you had no idea what he was up to, but he knew you well enough — you were getting lonely whether you wanted to admit or not, and despite their disagreements, he knew Frank could be worthy of your time.
And that was how you ended up shaking Frank’s hand in your favorite bar where you never went to find company, just a drink after a long week. Matt had known you’d be there and more or less shoved Frank inside, and as annoyed as he was, Frank couldn’t deny that the sight of you immediately made his heart skip a beat.
”Did Matt put you up to this?” you asked eventually, well-aware that the two of them worked together often. It wasn’t frequent for Matt to set you up with anyone, but he was the only thing common between you and Frank, and you weren’t stupid.
Caught, Frank chuckled. ”Yeah, yeah, he did. I ain’t gonna lie, I had my reservations but uh, talkin’ to you… I don’t regret comin’ in here. You seem real sweet”, he admitted, his eyes lingering on your figure. Not only did he find you sweet, he thought you were absolutely gorgeous, and he fucking hated the fact that he was going to have to tell Matt he had been right.
You blushed at Frank’s words and shrugged. ”Thanks, but I—I’m not really looking for anything right now. You seem great too, don’t get me wrong”, you gave him a half-apology, chewing on your lip nervously. He was charming, you had to give him that much, but you really weren’t up for having your heart broken yet again, and so, you found it best to keep Frank at an arm’s length.
”Hey, I get it. Can’t say I was expectin’ anything much when I walked through that door but I guess you kinda got me rethinkin’, ’s all”, he nodded in understanding before licking his lips and taking the plunge. ”Maybe we could get another drink sometime? No pressure, no expectations. Just hangin’ out, I guess”, Frank went on, a hopeful look in his eyes, and it wore you down.
”Sure”, you swallowed, feeling familiar anxiety rush in your veins as you agreed.
But like he said, there were no expectations. It could just be two friends grabbing a beer, nothing more. So, you gave him your phone number and hoped for the best.
You met up a couple of times after that. Frank couldn’t believe he was being so forward and that he really was so into you, but it was a fact he couldn’t deny. He had a strong will and good self-control, but he found himself losing all of that around you. Previously used to solitude and being wary of new connections, he now felt hooked on you, needing more and more even if he was willing to do it on your terms.
He could tell you liked him back, though. As much as you tried not to, you couldn’t help it. You started to feel less lonely and he occupied your thoughts on a daily basis, and it scared the shit out of you. You weren’t ready to fall in love again, but it seemed your heart wasn’t waiting for permission.
A few weeks passed with you getting to know one another, and one night, he was walking you home in the dark night, far too protective to let you make it all by yourself. Once at the door of your apartment building, you both lingered, not quite ready to say goodbye, but unsure what else there was left to say.
”I had a good time, sweetheart. I’m glad you ain’t sick of my clingy ass yet”, he joked, and it made you smile nervously. You were mere inches away from each other, his taller build towering over you with his fingertips brushing against yours. Your heart was hammering in your chest and you could feel the undeniable tension in the air, and so could he.
”Of course, not. I like spending time with you”, you whispered, quiet but close enough for Frank to hear. His heart soared at your words, flattered and honored that for someone who chose her company carefully, you had given him the time of the day.
His eyes fell to your lips, and when you didn’t pull away, he made the move and leaned in. Right before his lips could graze yours, though, you ducked your head with a swell of panic in your chest. It was all too real suddenly and the idea of moving from a mutual interest to something concrete terrified you.
”Shit”, Frank breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut. ”Sorry, I shoulda asked. Just thought… Doesn’t matter. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable”, he added while stepping back, and in an instant, guilt and regret took over your body. Seeing the rejection on his face hurt worse than the risk of letting him in, and that was enough for you to know that kiss or no kiss, you were in too deep.
”No, I’m sorry. It’s me, I—I just can’t. Sorry”, you repeated before turning your heel and rushing inside, too embarrassed to stay and look at Frank’s hurt face any longer.
He frowned at your words, but let you go. He had pushed your limits enough for one night, but even if he didn’t stop you from running indoors, he couldn’t help but get stuck on what you had said. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him back, something else was holding you back, and that caused worry to flare up in him. Clearly, someone had hurt you badly, and he felt pure anger at the simple thought of it.
That same night, he tracked Red down, itching to pick a fight, but mostly he wanted to find out what was stopping you from going all in. He could sympathize — after all, he had closed himself off to relationships after Maria, and even now, when he had grown so attached to you, he struggled with that little nagging guilt in the back of his head that didn’t want him to move on.
”She ain’t ready, Red. Wanna tell me what happened or should I punch it out of ya?” Frank grumbled as he joined Matt on the rooftop, an unhappy look on his face that only deepened when he saw the mysterious smile on his friend’s face.
”You weren’t ready, either”, Matt retorted before sighing deeply. ”She’s been hurt a lot, Frank. Every guy she’s been with has broken her heart. It’s the same with best friends, too. Everyone leaves her. So, yeah, she’s careful about who she lets in”, he continued, causing the anger to fade from Frank’s face. At least Red had stayed, but he knew he wasn’t the most stable presence, either. He didn’t think he himself would be, for that matter, but he wanted so badly to prove to you that he’d stick around.
”She don’t deserve that”, Frank grunted, unable to understand why anyone would turn their back on you. Sure, you were stunning in a way that took his breath away, but you were also a good, caring person. You had such a big heart and you were an excellent listener, not to mention how funny you could be. And even though you knew who Frank was and what he had done, you had never judged him.
”I agree. That’s why I wanted you to meet with her. Platonic or romantic, I knew you could appreciate her for who she is”, Matt explained, and sighing, Frank couldn’t deny that he had been right. He thought you were amazing, and he really wanted you to know that.
So, the next day, he made his way to your apartment. He was uncharacteristically nervous, his usual cool demeanor cracking under the pressure of the situation, but he was good at concealing it. He stood on your doorstep, calm and collected, and once he had knocked and you opened the door, you couldn’t have suspected he was feeling troubled in any way.
”Frank”, you exhaled, honestly surprised. You were sure that your refusal to kiss him would have pushed him away, but here he was, and you reluctantly felt relieved. You had given him enough reason to walk away, but he kept showing up, and it gave you hope.
”Red told me about your shitty exes. I want ya to know that they’re assholes for leavin’ you like that and that… that I wouldn’t do that. I know I come with a lot of baggage, but I swear to you, I’d treat you right, sweetheart. Shit, you really… you really got me, y’know? I really care about you and I wish I could make you less scared ’cause I know you care about me, too”, he rambled, calling you out in a way that maybe you needed to be.
Gulping, you nodded to confirm he was right. ”I do care about you. I wish I didn’t, but I do”, you confessed, sending his heart reeling. ”I just don’t want to be let down again. I really can’t do it again”, you pointed out, not sure if Frank would get it, but he did.
”I hear you, sweetheart. It ain’t the same thing, but I know loss, and I don’t wanna go through it again. Maybe we could learn to trust again together. I know it’s fuckin’ scary to let your guard down, I sure as hell have a hard time with it, but you make me wanna try”, he shared, his voice so soft and careful. He wasn’t used to opening up about his feelings, but he knew you needed honesty, and he wanted to give it to you.
”Okay. I… I think I can do that. I want to trust you”, you told him, sparking a smile on his face.
Hesitating, he stepped closer to you and took his hand in your own. ”Can I kiss you?” he asked in that low, husky tone of his, full of want, and it sent a shiver down your body. You nodded, and he broke into a grin, cradling your face in one massive hand and dropping his mouth to yours. It was slow and careful, just testing the waters, but you could tell he was holding back, and it made your stomach do flips. He really wanted you, needed you even, and that felt so good.
He was willing to take things slow. However you wanted him, he was yours. And sure enough, you fell into a comfortable rhythm with him, both of you head over heels for one another, and Matt was pleased whenever you two showed up to a night out together, Frank’s hand protectively around your waist. The three of you began to spend more time together, allowing Frank to see the more carefree, relaxed side of you that Matt brought out, but you also dedicated plenty of moments to just you and Frank. Right before your eyes, you built a relationship, and you were so happy with him.
Nevertheless, there was something of a dark cloud above your head, invisible to Frank but so heavy on you. Your mind fed you constant worries and anxiety — since everyone else had left, surely Frank would do the same. And without even fully realizing it, you began taking great measures to avoid such a fate.
”Which one do you like better?” you asked Frank, holding up two dresses that were casual enough for your movie date, but too important for you to make the decision on your own. You had become highly worried about everything you wore, always wondering if Frank liked what you had on or if he was ashamed to be seen with you. Maybe your body wasn’t good enough, to begin with.
”Why’re you askin’ me, sweetheart? You’ll look stunnin’ either way”, he chuckled, not really seeing the point, but his answer didn’t satisfy you.
”Pick one. Please?” you pleaded, desperately wanting his input, and it twisted his face with surprise.
”Uh, alright. The one on the right”, Frank chose, and instantly, your stomach dropped — you had thought the one on the left was better. But it mattered to you what he thought, as you certainly didn’t want to give him any reason to leave you, and so, you put on the dress he had pointed out.
You picked at it the whole drive to the movie theater, uncomfortable with how your body looked in it and convinced that Frank was seeing it, too. You felt insecure and you wanted to cancel the entire date, but you didn’t want to upset him, so you swallowed it down.
”Somethin’ wrong with the dress, baby?” Frank noticed your compulsive touching at the clothing, and feeling exposed by his question, you gave him a weak smile.
”No, no, nothing. It’s alright”, you insisted, before swiftly changing the subject. Still, Frank didn’t forget about it. If anything, he was starting to notice a pattern of you seeming so uncomfortable in your own skin, leaving him stuck between wanting to reassure you and fearing he’d only be creating a problem by bringing it up.
He picked up on the anxiety that followed you pretty easily. But it wasn’t until you began putting yourself down out loud that he cut in.
”Hey, bring me that black shirt f’me?” Frank called out from the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth, preparing for the day ahead of him. You reacted to his request as quickly as you could, digging through his designated half of the closet to find that one button-up you loved to see on him and hastily carrying it to the bathroom for him.
You handed the shirt over, and you instantly clocked the look on his face. ”Oh, shit, I shoulda specified. The other one, sweetheart. This one got all torn up from that one asshole’s knife the other night”, he corrected you gently and with care, but it hit you straight in the heart, making you feel like you couldn’t do anything right.
”Sorry. Sorry, I—I’m stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking”, you stammered, turning around to go back to the closet, but Frank stopped you with a grip on your wrist.
”Hey, you ain’t stupid. It was a mistake. Where’s this comin’ from, huh?” he glanced you over with concern, hating the sound of you criticizing yourself like that. He saw no need for it, and the way you jumped to it was something he wasn’t going to look past.
You shrugged, trying to move on from it, but Frank wasn’t that easily convinced. ”Look at me, sweetheart”, he demanded softly, and shyly, you brought your gaze up to his. ”I don’t like you speakin’ that way ’bout yourself. You didn’t do anythin’ wrong, yeah? It ain’t a big deal”, he promised, and his attempts to reassure you got your eyes to sting with incoming tears.
”I just don’t wanna do something to make you leave me”, you whispered, wiping your eyes to avoid him seeing you cry. ”Sorry”, you added, and shaking his head, Frank pulled you in, his head tilted down at you. He was so close, you could sense his warmth and his stare, and you felt so vulnerable in the small space.
”There’s nothin’ to apologize for, sweet darlin’. Hey, listen to me. There ain’t a thing you could do to make me leave. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, ’m here to stay. I wanna be with you. The real you, includin’ every little thing you think I couldn’t love. I do”, Frank started, staring you down and trying to make you see he was completely serious. He would have never done anything to hurt you on purpose, and he wished he would have had the words to convince you.
”You really mean that?” you asked weakly, trembling from anxiety. You really wanted to believe him, but it was hard to unlearn everything you had grown so accustomed to.
”I mean it, baby”, he swore, leaning in to kiss your forehead. ”Is this why you keep bein’ so careful with what you say around me? And why you ask me what you should be wearin’?” he wondered, and embarrassed to admit it, you nodded.
”I just want you to still think I’m worth it”, you sighed, breaking Frank’s heart.
”Clearly I ain’t been very good at this boyfriend thing, ’cause I never want you to doubt how I feel ’bout you. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, and I adore everythin’ you do and are. Can’t think of anyone sweeter and kinder than you. You’re the best thing to happen to me in a long while and I… I love you”, he told you, sincere and full of feeling. His words made your eyes widen, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words, but eventually, the right thing tumbled out of your mouth.
”I love you, Frank”, you smiled, unable to hold back the joy you felt upon hearing that. ”I’m always the one to love more. To get more attached. But you… you really care about me, don’t you?” you spoke in amazement, starting to see that he was serious about you.
”You’re goddamn right I do. And you’ll always be worth it to me, pretty girl. Nothin’s gonna change that”, he emphasized, his dark eyes filled to the brim with something fiery. For the first time since you had met him, you trusted in him one hundred percent and didn’t let the inevitable anxiety and doubt shift your faith.
As he leaned down to kiss you, passionate and needy, you felt like you had found your happy ending. And for once, you had hope, and thought that with Frank, you actually had a chance of healing.
Handful (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Hi everyone! I’ve been editing WIPs all day, and this one was quick and cute that I just couldn’t not share first (especially since I’ve found a strange amount of angsty WIPs for me). I hope you enjoy! :)
Summary: You love Matt Murdock. You’ve fallen into an easy pattern with him, and it’s comforting—it feels like home. You love waking up in his arms, your easy mornings. That doesn’t mean that these sweet moments are immune to his special breed of Murdock charm.
Warnings: Kissing and being cute idiots in love, flirting, pet names foreplay, smut (oral - f!receiving, praise kink (Matt’s breaking out “good girl” again) p in v sex, unprotected sex—wrap it up, folks!, creampie) Matt is a sexy and smartass menace)
Other Characters: None
Word Count: IDK, this is a straight copy and paste from my notes app and is kind partially proof read😂
You roll over in bed and hum happily as your arm drapes over Matt’s middle and you snuggle him closer. You feel Matt adjust and wrap his arm around you, his fingers gently brushing against your arm.
“Did I wake you?” he whispers softly.
“No,” you yawn softly. “Nice that you’re still here in bed, though.”
A gentle chuckle rolls through him, careful to not break the peace of the morning. “You’re just up earlier than usual, sweetheart.”
You blink in the early morning light and move your head to look up at him. His hair is fluffy and sticking up at odd angles, his face is still covered in a veil of blissfulness from a good nights sleep, and happiness twinkling in his eyes.
“Good morning, Matty,” you smile.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he smiles back, leaning in for a kiss. It’s chaste and sweet at first, but with each additional seconds our lips are connected, it’s easier to get lost in him. Matt feels it too, softly moaning into your mouth as he rolls over on top of you, one hand sliding to rest on the side of your neck as the other moves to your side. Your hands happily slide around his back, your fingers gently dragging against the line of his back, brushing against a few of his scars. You kiss like this, enjoying the embraces that are growing deeper and deeper before you wiggle your hips on the mattress without much thought, signaling Matt to roll his hips into you. You break the kiss and moan out, Matt’s beautiful pouty lips pulling into a smile as he places slow, wet kisses on your neck.
“That’s music to my ears, angel,” he husks, dragging his kisses across your neck and up the other side. “Makes me think of everything I want to do to you.”
“Ah, Matt,” you moan softly.
“Yes, (Y/N)?”
“You’re a real handful,” you grin with a little chuckle as his lips hone in on your sweet spot.
“I’m a handful?” he echos, his morning stubble scratching against your skin.
“Mm, fuck,” you breathe softly as he sucks on the sweet spot under your jaw, your hands sliding up his back, one moving to the back of his head to tug at his hair. His hands just squeeze your hips before moving down to your legs, spreading them before Matt brings his lips back to yours.
“Matt,” you grin against his lips as he does the same.
“Shh,” Matt hums.
“It tickles!” you start to chuckle softly.
“I think I know where it might tickle more, if you’re up for it.”
“Matt!” you laugh, your hands sliding through his hair as he leans in for another kiss. His hands squeeze you, gently prodding you for a response, and you nod your head as your lips are locked. He kisses down your body, quickly moving to the space between your legs that remained bare after your adventures from the previous night. Matt licks a deliberate line up from your hole to your clit, making you moan out into the bedroom. He happily licks and feasts, enjoying the leftover slick still between your legs before he comes back up and kisses you deeply.
“Can I? Do you want to?” he breathes a gentle hand stroking up and down your arm.
You spread your legs a little more, locking your ankles around his. “I’d like that,” you hum, sliding your hands between your bodies, feeling that he’s already hard—he usually is to some degree in the mornings after you’re intimate. You give him a few more pumps until he’s a little more up, and you guide him in. You both suck in a little breath when his tip hits the very beginning of your entrance and exhale as he slides in deeper and deeper until he can’t go anymore.
“Fuck,” Matt breathes as he stills, leaning down to kiss you long and slow, over and over to shower you in nothing but love. He slowly rolls his hips to see if you’re okay to go and you nod, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him over and over.
Matt’s movements are languid and tender, your fingers lacing together on one hand while your other snakes around to the middle of his back. At the same time, his free hand ghosts over your skin and settles your waist, sending goosebumps out across your body. Your movements mirror one another, complement each other, the true definition of love. Your free hand gives him a squeeze, silently urging him to go faster. He feels so wonderful, and oh, you just want him. You want him so bad.
“Please,” you moan. “Please, Matt, please more.”
“Good girl,” he pants, forehead resting against yours. “My good girl. So good for me, wrapped around me like that. So good taking me like this. So good, angel.”
You run your fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots and slotting your lips against to his, your noses smushing together. His teeth nip at your lower lip as he pulls back slightly before capturing it between both of his. All you can do is pant and hold onto Matt’s back with your legs wrapped around him as he rolls his hips into you over and over, making the bed squeak and rock.
“Matthew,” you whine. “Matty . . . Feel so good.”
“Good girl,” he breathes against your neck, sending goosebumps throughout your body. “So good for me.”
You take in a deep breath and slowly let it out in moans by Matt’s ear. You don’t know if it’s because you’re still a little tired or the way the sheets are bunched slightly under your back, but everything feels so much better.
“So good,” he praises again. “You’re nice and sensitive, hm? My cock feels extra good in your pretty pussy, doesn’t it?”
“So good, Matt,” you whine. “Matt . . .”
“Mmm . . . You’re mine.”
You squeak, your hand squeezing his.
“Yeah?” he hums with one of the most beautiful smiles you’ve ever seen, his eyes sparkling.
“I love you.”
He only glows more. “I love you,” he breathes, leaning in and kissing you again.
The roll of his hips pick up in pace as you feel him hit deeper inside of you, and all you can do is hug Matt’s waist with your knees and keep him close until he cums deep inside of you. Your moans are harmonious, and just as he’s almost done riding out his high does yours crash over you in shattering shockwaves, squeezing you desperately and making his moans jump an octave. He stills and slows, kissing you all over to keep you grounded and center you in his arms.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he gravels in his alluring baritone.
“Good morning, my love,” you murmur, leaning up for one more kiss, long and slow. Your lips part from his and your head happily falls back down on the pillow.
You both groan softly as Matt pulls out. With one more kiss, Matt slides out of bed and puts on his boxers, shuffling out of the bathroom.
“Hey,” you whine, panting, irked your cuddles have been cut short. “Where are you going?”
“Mass,” he says, unphased, twisting to look at you from the doorway of your room. “Gotta freshen up before I leave.”
He gives you a small smile as you stare at him, your mouth hanging slightly while you watch him move out of the room. Yup, he’s a real handful.
———————————
Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother @hellskitchens-whore @dpaccione @catnip987 @blackhawkfanatic
Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @loves0phelia
AARON TAYLOR-JOHNSON in ‘Savages’
i know i didn’t give that many options but i’m still thinking of ideas!! let me know if you have any!!
mini update: i’m going to start writing my first daryl fic tmrw!! hopefully it will be up by this weekend or early next week!! stay tuned!! 🤍
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
A Guide to Charlie Cox's Kissing Method:
1) It will look like he's starving and wants to consume you
2) It will involve the grabbing of necks and chins
3) At times, involves tongue
The Devil at Your Window |6: A Clarifying Moment|
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 4k [Series Masterlist]
Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty
a/n: It has been far too long since this series was updated! Hope y'all enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer @keepingitlokiii @kezibear @dorothleah @sarahskywalker-amidala @1988-fiend @haruari @sleepysleepymom @marveious @sunflower-tia @fizanotfeeza @cloudroomblog @babygirlmurdock @writtenbyred @idontevenknow1359 @scriptedmoon
Startling on the couch as the oven timer beeped behind you, the noise interrupted you from the romance novel you'd been absorbed in for most of the evening. You earmarked the page you hadn't yet finished before leaning over and setting the book aside on your coffee table. Reluctantly rising from your cozy place on the couch, you tossed your blanket off and were immediately met with the faint chill of your apartment.
Breathing in the sweet, delicious scent of chocolate that was currently permeating its way through your place, you stepped around your couch and headed into the kitchen. Tonight you'd decided to pull out the boxed brownie mix you’d had in a cabinet and bake this evening as a comfort to yourself. Partly because doing something with your hands calmed you, and partly because you were craving something sweet to indulge in after the confusing day you’d had.
You'd been in an unusual mood today ever since your coworker, Stephanie, had once more mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date with one of her friends at lunch earlier. You hadn't been able to shake that weird feeling that had since been growing in your gut. Though today wasn't the first time that she had mentioned setting you up with her friend, Dylan; she had mentioned him a few times to you over the past couple of months.
Admittedly Dylan had sounded like someone you'd be interested in meeting from what she had told you about him, but you'd always been far too nervous to ever agree to let her give him your number. For weeks there had often been a part of you that regretted not just letting her because you'd long grown tired of coming home to an empty apartment night after night. You always wished that you had someone in your life who'd be here when you returned, someone to spend your weekends and evenings with. Someone instead of just the fictional characters in your books and television shows. But you were also tired of all the failed first dates you'd gone on, too. And a part of you was afraid that's exactly how things would end up with Dylan.
But Stephanie had also first mentioned Dylan to you before the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had fallen onto your fire escape during that snowstorm. And since then you had gone and stupidly formed a crush on him. Which had left you conflicted about the whole situation now. Did you accept a date with Dylan and potentially risk ruining whatever the hell was going on with you and the Devil–which seemed like it was mostly a whole lot of nothing at the moment. Or did you decline what could possibly be something worthwhile just for the possibility that the strange masked vigilante could actually be a potential love interest for you? Though you were certainly aware of how ridiculous just thinking that sounded considering you had no idea who the Devil even was, what he looked like, or what he did outside of committing illegal acts of vigilantism most nights while apparently not feeding himself.
Grabbing the oven mitts from off of your countertop beside the stove with one hand, you reached your other hand out to turn off the timer and silence the incessant beeping of your oven. Slipping both oven mitts onto your hands, you bent down and opened the oven door before reaching inside and carefully retrieving the tray of brownies. Pulling them out, you set them on top of the stove to begin cooling.
Even now as you slid the oven mitts off of your hands and turned off the oven, you could feel that odd feeling continuing to gnaw at your insides. Truthfully you knew the logical thing to do was to just give Dylan a chance. You probably should just finally set up a date with him and see what happened. Maybe things would work out and maybe they wouldn't.
But even as you thought that, the masked man's smiling mouth appeared in your mind and your stomach twisted into knots while your heart simultaneously beat a little erratically in your chest. The thought of accepting a date with someone else–someone that wasn’t the curious and charming Devil–almost made you feel sick to your stomach. Which was absolutely idiotic and ridiculous. Especially because you hadn’t forgotten his comment about not wanting a relationship from the very first night you’d met him. You recalled how he’d said that a significant other would be a liability and a distraction. Which to you meant that the likelihood of something happening between you both, despite him seeming to constantly flirt with you, was slim.
Yet still you found yourself clinging to hope with both of your desperate hands.
The resounding tap tap tap of three sharp knocks from behind you drew you straight from your thoughts. Tossing the oven mitts in your hands onto your counter, you spun around in your kitchen, craning your neck to peer out of your window from where the sound had come. Not surprisingly, the Devil was standing on your fire escape and grinning back at you through the glass.
The sight of him had your stomach pathetically somersaulting inside of you. You were so excited to finally see him for the first time this week that you didn’t even bother fighting the smile that had hastily spilled its way across your lips.
“Apparently you only need to think of the Devil for him to appear,” you quietly whispered to yourself.
As you began making your way over towards him, you saw his head tilt to the side, the smile growing even wider on his mouth. Though the closer you neared to the window, the more you were able to spot the blood smeared along the lower half of his face just below the black fabric of his mask. Concern quickly replaced the excitement you’d initially felt at the sight of him, your feet hurrying you faster towards the window.
Unlocking it in a rush, you shoved the window all the way up and stepped to the side so the Devil could climb into your apartment. A cold burst of air flew inside as you watched him bend down, your arms quickly wrapping around your chest to keep warm.
“Are you alright?” you asked anxiously.
The Devil began to slip his way through the window’s opening, but as he moved with ease through the small gap, your eyes curiously landed on what he was carrying. A bouquet of white and pink lilies. You pulled a face at the sight of them, brows furrowing together in absolute confusion. Why was the Devil running around with a bouquet of flowers tonight?
“Perfectly alright,” the Devil answered, drawing your attention back to his masked face. “Why do you ask?”
You watched as he straightened up, shooting you a wide, blood-stained smile. Grimacing at the grisly sight, you shook your head before turning and closing the window after him. The howling of the wind quieted, though the bitterness of the winter night lingered in your apartment.
“Because your face is covered in blood,” you said, turning back around and pointing a finger at him. “It looks like your nose was bleeding.”
The Devil raised his free hand up, his gloved fingers dabbing at his nose which was still mostly hidden by the material of his mask. Shrugging his shoulders, his hand lowered back to his side as his attention returned to you.
“Must’ve stopped,” he replied. “Though admittedly someone did manage to hit me in the face tonight. Was actually part of the reason why I’m a bit later stopping by than I’d planned. And why these,” he said, extending the bouquet of flowers out towards you, your eyes widening in shock at the gesture, “are probably looking a little worse for wear now. Had to stop a mugging on my way to come see you, which wasn’t part of the plan, either.”
Standing there in absolute stunned silence, your eyes were glued to the bouquet of lilies. Admittedly a few of them did look a little battered, but overall they were beautiful. You could smell the fragrant scent of them over the strong smell of brownies coming from your kitchen. But you had no idea how to even react to the bouquet that he was offering you, and your lack of response was seemingly becoming apparent to the Devil judging by the way his smile faltered along his lips.
“I–I don’t understand,” you finally stammered out. “Flowers? You brought flowers for…me?”
The Devil’s head tilted to the side, his smile gradually slipping off his face. Though his hand with the bouquet remained outstretched towards you, your eyes still very much focused on them in confusion. Did you dare to hope they were meant as some sort of romantic gesture from him? That maybe he’d planned to stop by and possibly ask you out on a date tonight? Maybe he’d finally tell you exactly who he was? Let you see his face? You felt your excitement flooding through your body at just the thought of that.
“Of course they’re for you, angel,” he said, his usual charming smile returning. “They’re a thank you. For that Devil’s Pantry you set up earlier this week.”
Immediately your heart–which you hadn’t even realized had begun beating frantically in ecstatic hopefulness at that nickname uttered from his beautiful mouth–stuttered in your chest before slowing back down as the rest of what he’d said registered in your ears. Of course that’s why he’d brought you flowers, it was the only reason that would’ve made sense.
“Oh,” you breathed out. “Uh, well thank you, but you really didn’t need to do that.”
Something about the slight twitch to the corner of his bloodied lips and the shifting of his head caught your eye. You wondered what face he was making behind his mask as you cautiously reached out and accepted the bouquet from his hand. Not for the first time you found yourself wishing that you could see his full expression instead of so much black.
“I wanted to thank you,” he told you. “Not many people think about me like you do. Worry about me.” With a chuckle he added, “ Or my kidneys.”
You laughed half-heartedly, still trying to recover from having stupidly misread the flowers as you turned and made your way into the kitchen in search of something to use as a vase. You didn’t often receive flowers, which meant you didn’t have an actual vase on hand–something you were currently feeling a little embarrassed about and hoping he wasn't judging you for.
“Well you really should be drinking more water,” you told him, eventually pulling out a large glass from a cabinet. “You’re going to have kidney damage before you know it.”
“Pretty sure there’ll be worse things happening to me before then,” he joked back. “Considering how I spend my evenings, just having both kidneys still intact already sounds like a win.”
You rolled your eyes at him, bringing the glass over towards your faucet and filling it with water. When it was half filled, you turned off the faucet and slipped the bouquet into the makeshift vase, pausing to admire the pretty flowers. Briefly you’d wondered why he’d picked lilies, but the thought quickly vanished when your eyes caught sight of a few specks of blood splattered along some of the petals. The Devil’s blood, you guessed.
Turning, you set the flowers down on your kitchen counter before your attention returned to the Devil. He was still standing beside your window and silently watching you. With the light from your living room shining on him, you could more clearly see the blood covering the lower half of his face. You winced at the sight.
“What?” he asked. “Something wrong?”
“Just that you have a lot of–” you paused, gesturing a hand towards your mouth, “–blood still on your face. Would you mind if maybe I…helped you clean that up? Make sure your nose really did stop bleeding?”
For a moment the masked man stood there, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet as if he was contemplating your offer. Eventually he slowly nodded.
“I suppose so,” he answered.
“Alright, let me just grab a wash cloth or something,” you told him, exiting your kitchen and making your way past him. “You can make yourself comfortable on the couch if you’d like.”
As you headed down the short hallway and into your bathroom, you heard the strangely light sound of his footsteps in those heavy boots of his. You assumed he’d done exactly what you'd suggested and sat down.
Once in the bathroom, you bent down and opened the cabinet beneath your sink, your eyes scanning the towels you had stored in the small space. Finding a navy blue hand towel that looked dark enough to not show a permanent bloodstain, you pulled it out before closing the cabinet door and standing back up. Turning on the bathroom faucet, you gave the water a few seconds to warm up before you wetted the fabric of the towel. Afterwards, you wrung out the extra water before leaving the bathroom and making your way back down the short hall towards your living room.
You found the Devil sitting on your couch just as you'd expected. As you approached him, you noticed how his masked head appeared to track your movements, following each of your footsteps towards him through the room. For some reason his gaze so closely focused on you had you feeling exceptionally self-conscious, a shudder running down your spine. But you also noticed a spark of something you’d never quite felt before shoot through you like wildfire. You realized that you liked the intensity of his gaze on you. Probably more than you should have considering his face was half-covered in his own blood.
Lowering yourself onto the couch beside him, you bit your lip as you tucked your legs up underneath yourself on the cushion. Resting an elbow on the backrest of the couch, you turned and faced him completely. He’d moved a little towards you in turn when you’d settled down, his masked face shifting towards you. Hesitantly you reached your left hand out, though it immediately hovered in the space between you both, your fingers mere inches from his face. His head canted the smallest fraction to the side at your hesitation.
“Is it alright if I lift the mask just enough to uncover your nose?” you asked, your voice softer than you’d intended. “I promise I won’t lift it any higher.”
The Devil's lips curled faintly upwards at your question before he nodded once.
“I trust you,” he answered in his deep voice.
Something about him so casually stating that he trusted you had your tongue darting out to nervously wet your lips, your heart thudding a little more loudly in your own ears. Left hand closing the remaining distance between you both, you gingerly grasped the black fabric of his mask between your thumb and index finger, very aware of how intimate this felt–especially as your fingers brushed against the skin of his cheek. The moment felt almost as intimate as the time you’d undressed him from his wet clothes and kept him warm while he’d been meditating in your apartment. You figured not many people–if any–had ever been allowed to so easily touch his mask. And yet here you were, raising it just a few centimeters to reveal a fraction more of his bloodied nose so that you could clean that blood from off of him.
Briefly you held your breath as you raised the mask, too focused on the slow reveal of a little more of this mysterious man's face to do much else. Though you didn’t dare push your luck with raising it any higher than the marginal bit you had once the bottom of his nose was no longer covered. Reluctantly your fingers released the fabric and your left hand gently came to rest along his neck, just below his jaw, in an attempt to balance yourself as you leaned forward towards him. Reaching your thumb up to the underside of his chin, your finger carefully tilted his face at a better angle. Carefully you began to clean off the blood along the bottom of his nose with the damp towel in your other hand.
You were thankful that the blood washed off his skin fairly easily and required minimal effort of scrubbing on your part as the Devil sat quiet and still beneath your hands. Because truthfully as you worked, your mind was focused on his skin beneath your left hand, finding it hard to believe that you were touching such a vulnerable spot on his neck. It was taking every ounce of your energy to stay focused on your task–as it usually seemed to be whenever you helped the Devil like this. It didn't help that you couldn't see his eyes beneath the mask, making you wonder if he was as focused on you as you were on him.
When you'd finally cleaned his nose, you began to wash the blood from beside his mouth next. While you worked, you noticed that his lips had visibly parted just enough for you to feel the warm breath passing between them. As each of his exhales brushed over the back of your knuckles, you felt yourself becoming a little lightheaded. That's when you suddenly realized just how close you'd ended up leaning in towards him on the couch.
Your eyes darted up, your pulse increasing when you saw that masked face mere inches from yours. Accidentally losing your balance when you’d tried to shift backwards and put some space between you both, you instead almost fell forward into his lap on the couch cushion you were both sharing. It was the Devil’s gloved hand darting up in response, landing on your hip and easily steadying you, that kept you from tumbling right into him. Though for some reason his hand hadn't just steadied you, it had pulled you back in towards him once he'd helped you regain your balance. And then he’d left it there.
Trying to calm your heart that was still thundering loud in your own ears, your eyes focused on his mouth as you took a deep breath in. The sight of his plush lips just within your reach was making it difficult for you to think about anything else–like cleaning off the rest of the blood along his stubbled chin. At this point, heat wasn't just creeping up your neck at how embarrassing this all was, but also at the fact that your hand had somehow come to rest along his cheek. It didn't help that his large gloved hand was still gripping your hip and keeping you close.
“Sorry,” you muttered awkwardly.
The corner of his lip twitched before his expression became unreadable once more.
“Don't worry about it, angel,” he replied in his gravely tone.
Forcing yourself to return to your task, your hand on his cheek tilting his face once more, you finished gently cleaning off the blood from the rest of him. Though the air still felt tense and charged with something impossible to ignore as you drew the bloodied blue towel away from the Devil’s face. Staring back at him, your eyes couldn't resist memorizing the bit of his nose that you’d revealed a bit ago. You didn't often get to see much more of his face, so you wanted to take full advantage of your current opportunity. But inevitably your gaze dropped lower and you found yourself once more mesmerized by his still slightly parted lips–the same lips that often haunted your dreams lately. Tempted to trace the line of them with a finger, your thumb on his cheek slid closer to his mouth entirely of its own accord. His own hand immediately squeezed your hip in response. You froze instantly.
You'd thought about a moment like this occurring between you both far too often lately. A moment where he'd let his guard down after all of those teasing flirtatious comments you’d endured, one where he actually let you in. A moment when he'd stop messing around with you and just finally kiss you. Because right now you swore you could feel something in the air between you both, swore that he'd even leaned in closer towards you. And his damn hand was still on your hip long after he had used it to steady you, even drawing you closer to him with it.
There was something going on here. There had to be. If there wasn't, why did he keep giving you all these signals otherwise? Bringing you flowers as a thank you? Letting you take care of him? Repeatedly showing up at your place and considering it somewhere safe for him? With the way you acted around him, he had to know you were attracted to him.
But before anything more could happen, the Devil’s hand quickly released your hip and simultaneously crushed your hopes. He loudly cleared his throat, his hand reaching up instead to lower the mask back over his nose as he turned his face away from you. Your hand fell from his cheek, embarrassment further burning through you at the obvious rejection. Lips pressing together, you quickly slid away from him on the couch and rose to your feet.
“Thank you,” he said, voice tense.
“Of course,” you replied, eyes on your feet as you maneuvered around your coffee table. “Couldn't have you wearing your blood while you were here. I'm just going to rinse out this towel and then I can grab you some water.” Hurriedly making your way down the short hallway towards your bathroom, you said over your shoulder, “I made brownies if you want some.”
“I know,” the Devil called back. “I could smell them from half a block away.”
Stepping into your bathroom, you paused in front of the sink, your hand hovering over the faucet. Your reflection in the mirror stared back at you as your brows knitted together at his comment. That was yet another odd thing for him to say. With a shake of your head, you turned on the faucet and began to rinse his blood from the towel, too preoccupied thinking about what had just transpired in your living room to make sense of the strange things he sometimes said.
As you stood there watching your sink run red from the Devil’s blood, you felt your stomach drop at what had just happened between you both–or rather, what hadn't happened. Why had he ended the moment like that? Was it because he didn't feel the same way? Or because he believed having someone in his life really would just be a distraction and liability that he didn't want? Because you found it hard to believe that he hadn't felt something after that near kiss on your couch, even if right now you just felt rejected and embarrassed.
Glancing up at your reflection in the mirror while you continued to rinse his blood from the towel, you released a sigh. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to give Dylan a chance after all. Maybe going on a date with a man who actually gave you his name and let you see his face was the best thing for your heart right now instead of pining after the mysterious vigilante who was fast beginning to feel too far out of your reach despite him currently sitting on your couch.
Turning off the faucet, you wrung out the hand towel once more. Making up your mind, you decided that you'd finally tell Stephanie at work tomorrow to give Dylan your number. You'd agree to that first date once and for all.
When Matt's way-too-small shirt rucks up and shows his slutty waist 😍
Falling For the Devil [Part ninety-six: "The Quiet Morning at Home"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: You wake up the morning after the gala with Matt.
Or
Mittens interrupts a moment to cause a little chaos.
[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.] [FFTD Series Masterlist]
Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut, violence
a/n: There's a bit of sexual content in this one, but it's mostly a lot of sweet fluff. And some chaotic Mittens Murdock... Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Tag List: @ninacotte @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @pazii @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @babygirlmurdock @theoraekenslover @wanda-maxamommy @justanerd1
Slowly blinking your eyes open, you attempted to adjust to the bit of light trickling into the bedroom. The muffled sound of the bustling early morning city traffic far below the apartment filtered in through the windows as you continued to gradually wake. The muted and distant sound of cars honking on the busy streets had you appreciating the fact that today was Sunday and you had nowhere to be in a rush.
Inevitably when your eyes had adjusted to the dim morning light they found their way to Matt. He was lying on his side facing towards you with one of his bare, muscular arms resting over the top of the silk sheets. His hand was stretched out towards you on top of the blankets, his fingers only mere inches from where you lay beside him as if he'd been reaching out towards you in his sleep. The thought that he might have been drew a small smile onto your lips.
These were your favorite types of mornings. Slow, sunny ones like this one where the bedroom was always swathed in the faintest golden glow of early morning sunlight slipping its way past the curtains. You loved how the light cast streams of warmth over Matt's sleeping form beside you, somehow making him look almost angelic as he lay there.
You could never resist studying the details of his peaceful expression in the quiet stillness of the weekend mornings whenever you managed to wake before him, either. Watching the steady, even rise and fall of his chest beneath the sheets, his plush lips slightly parted. Sometimes, like this morning, you even noted that he almost seemed to be smiling in his sleep, the corners of his lips gently curled upwards. Though in your observation of him today you couldn't help but notice the mess his dark hair currently was atop his head. Heat crept into your cheeks as you recalled what the two of you had done last night at the gala–and then what you'd both done here afterwards.
Biting your lip as the memories of last night rushed back to you, making you more aware of how naked you and Matt both currently were beneath the sheets, your attention dropped down to the foot of the bed. Mittens wasn't curled in a ball sleeping in his usual spot, which meant he must've woken up early and slipped out through the crack in the bedroom door that you and Matt always kept partially open for him. You figured he was probably out in the living room now, sitting in his cat tree and watching the morning traffic on the street below while trying to scare off the pigeons that occasionally dared to perch on the small ledges of the building outside the window.
Slowly your eyelids leisurely lowered again, a comfortable calm washing over you as you quietly lay in bed. Inhaling a deep breath in, your smile only grew wider on your lips as you relaxed further into the mattress. Despite the woman who'd flirted with Matt at the gala and the way you'd been treated last night–which was apparently exactly how Karen and Foggy had fared in their own respective ways as you'd come to learn from them after the event–things felt perfect right now. As if everything was exactly how it should be.
Though you still couldn't believe that you'd let Matt fuck you in that office last night while hundreds of New York City elite were just outside in the ballroom. The memory of that part of the evening, along with how he'd called you ‘Mrs. Murdock’ and the way it had made you feel, had left you surprisingly and wonderfully lightheaded and shockingly aroused for the rest of the evening. By the time you'd both made it back to the apartment, the pair of you had been so worked up that Matt had quite literally torn your dress right off of you shortly after you'd gotten through the door. A shudder ran through you as you recalled that dark, irresistible look in his eyes when he'd dragged you into the bedroom with him before he'd certainly driven the point home that you were his.
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
Your eyes abruptly reopened, focusing back on Matt's face at the sound of his sleep-laden voice greeting you. His eyes were also open now, fixed along your chest and most likely listening to the sound of your heartbeat and your breathing. It was something he'd long since confessed he focused on first thing in the mornings to determine whether you were awake or asleep–though he’d also admitted that he just liked listening to the sound.
“Something on your mind?” he asked, a cheeky, sleepy grin slowly stretching across his tired face.
His hand reached out a bit further, closing the distance between the pair of you as his fingers brushed along your bare shoulder. It was a second before your brain realized your body must have been reacting to your thoughts about the things you’d both done after the gala. That must've been the first thing he'd picked up on when he woke.
“Just uh, thinking about last night,” you admitted, shifting closer towards him on the bed.
“Mmm, last night?” he replied, that sleepy grin still on his lips.
Copying your movements, Matt also moved closer to you on the bed. His hand slid down your shoulder, slipping beneath the sheets as his fingers found their way down the length of your arm and then over your hips. Eventually his fingers dipped down between your bare thighs, your heartbeat steadily increasing under his touch. But then you caught the way his lips twitched downwards at the corner when his fingers paused, his gaze dropping down from your face to where your thighs were hidden beneath the sheets.
“Hopefully I didn't hurt you last night,” he said.
His fingers carefully traced a few marginally sore spots on the inner part of your thighs. The memory of Matt's teeth sinking into them from the night before sent a pleasant sensation through you and you shook your head lightly along the pillow in response. Your own hand made its way out of the sheets, reaching up towards Matt's face to affectionately run your fingertips over the bit of stubble on his chin.
“You didn't hurt me, Matty,” you assured him. “But I'm taking it that you succeeded in marking me just like you promised you would. I haven’t exactly seen your handiwork yet.”
He smiled a little sheepishly back at you, his eyes making their way back up towards your chin. His head tilted just a fraction as he leaned into your touch, your fingers still delicately trailing their way back and forth along the length of his jaw.
“Guess I really wasn't thinking too clearly when we got back,” he murmured. “Left you quite a few bruises from the way your body sounds.”
His thumb swiped over a few spots on your thigh, his brows creasing together a little as he did. He looked almost upset about what he'd done last night, but you'd certainly enjoyed every bite of his teeth along the inside of your thighs and the flesh of your breasts when he'd been pinning you to the bed last night. You'd been quite vocal about how much you'd liked it last night, too, but it seemed you needed to remind him again now.
“I'm fine , Matt,” you pressed. “Really. You didn't hurt me. And if you recall, I was certainly enjoying myself. If anything,” you continued, your fingers tenderly gliding their way up his stubbled cheek and past his temple before they gently began to card through his hair, “I kind of like knowing they're there. Even if I haven't seen them yet. I uh…kind of like knowing that you were the one to put them there.”
The expression shifted on Matt's face from sheepish to something mischievous almost immediately. You'd opened your mouth to say something more, but you were quickly quieted when Matt abruptly rose up onto a hand on the bed, his other hand leaving your thigh in order to pull the sheets down from over the top of you, revealing your naked upper torso to the faint chill of the bedroom. Without pause, Matt climbed over the top of you, pinning you between his strong arms as his muscular thighs landed on either side of yours, just like he’d done to you last night.
“What're you doing?” you asked, smiling up at him.
The mischievous grin never left his face as he gazed down at you beneath him. The sheets had fallen down even further on the pair of you, and from this angle, you had an almost perfect and complete view of Matt's entire beautiful and naked front half entirely on display. Bottom lip rolling between your teeth, you tried to fight back a giggle but failed. The sound only had his smile growing as he hovered above you, his eyes fixed on your chin.
“Making amends,” he answered.
“Making amends for wha–”
You stopped short as Matt's face dipped down towards your chest, his soft lips pressing a tender kiss to the side of your breast. His mouth lingered for a moment, the feel of him against you heating your body almost instantly beneath him. Though when he finally pulled away, you noticed your chest indeed had a handful of love bites marking both of your breasts in a plethora of little bruises.
Matt shifted just a bit above you before his mouth lowered again, his lips placing another gentle kiss atop yet another mark on the swell of the same breast. Your eyelids slowly lowered, both of your hands coming up to slip their way into his hair, your fingers gently toying with the strands. When Matt shifted above you once more, you could feel his cock stirring awake against the inside of your thigh.
“ Matt ,” you said, practically sighing out his name between your lips.
He hummed a noise in response, though he seemed quite focused on his current task of apparently kissing every mark he'd made along your breasts last night. Just as you’d begun to think that you wouldn't last long if he decided to keep this up with the marks he had most certainly left between your thighs, you heard a faint noise from the other room at the exact same moment that he must have noticed it, too.
Your eyes flew open as Matt leaned back, his brows knitting together as his head tilted to the side. You were about to ask him what that sound had been before you heard the distinct pattering of frantic little paws running along the floor. Moments later Mittens jumped up on the bed beside the pair of you, the suddenness of his appearance managing to startle you beneath Matt. You noticed he was holding his tiny blue mouse in his mouth, his dark pupils blown wide as he focused solely on Matt still hovering over you.
“You've got poor timing, buddy,” Matt said, clearly unsurprised by the cat's appearance.
Mittens dropped the mouse in his mouth down to the bed next to you before he lowered the front half of his body as if he was preparing to pounce. You giggled at the sight, watching as Mittens’ tails began twitching erratically back and forth, his eyes still focused on Matt. He chirped a few noises back at him, his backend raised in the air as he went entirely still except for his tail.
“I think he's got a problem to sort with you, Matt,” you teased.
One of Matt's dark brows rose up onto his forehead, his own focus still on the cat beside you as he continued to hold himself in place above you.
“Wouldn't do that if I were you,” Matt warned Mittens. “I can take you back to where we found you, you know.”
You gasped, one hand leaving its place in Matt's hair before you playfully swatted his shoulder. “ Matt !” you hissed out, a smile on your face. “We are not getting rid of him!”
Matt's head turned, his focus shifting back to you. “I know that,” he told you, “but it's not like he knows that I’m not–”
Matt's sentence was cut short when Mittens finally pounced across the bed at him, taking Matt's moment of distraction as his chance to attack. He'd launched his little gray body forward, managing to lightly smack the side of Matt's face with his tiny gray paw. Without waiting to witness the outcome of his assault, Mittens spun in a circle along the bed before darting off of it and bolting straight back out of the bedroom.
You broke into a fit of laughter at the flat expression that slid onto Matt’s face. From behind the bedroom door, you could hear the sound of Mittens racing around the living room.
“And what's so funny?” Matt asked you, a brow arching onto his forehead.
“Just the fact that Daredevil isn't faster than a cat,” you answered, trying to fight down your amusement. “He got you yet again.”
“Cats aren't nearly as predictable as humans are to me,” Matt pointed out. “It's not like I ever spent my time training to fight cats.”
“Yeah and it–it seems like Mittens is well aware of that,” you said, still struggling to fight back your laughter. “That's why he always sneaks in a boop on you.”
“He does not,” Matt countered, rolling off the top of you. “I knew what he was doing and I let him have his shot.”
“Uh huh,” you said, giggling as you sat up in bed. “Sure you did, Matty.”
Matt blew out a rough sigh, but you saw the grin on his face before he turned and tossed the sheets off of himself. Your mind abruptly shifted back to admiring Matt’s naked form, watching the pull of muscles along his back as he rose up out of bed. Then your gaze dropped lower, lingering on his firm, round ass and the thick muscles along his thighs as he paced his way towards the dresser across the room. As he pulled open a drawer, his head shifted over his shoulder back towards where you lay in the bed.
“I can feel you staring, you know,” he said.
You grinned shamelessly before rolling your eyes and tossing the sheets off of yourself. Climbing out of bed, you paced your way over towards the dresser beside him, opening the drawer that contained your underwear and bras as Matt began to pull on a pair of boxers beside you.
“I always take every opportunity I can,” you told him.
Pulling out a pair of panties, you bent over and began slipping them on. But before you could manage to tug them up your legs, you felt both of Matt’s large palms cupping your ass. Eyes growing wide, your head darted over your shoulder as your gaze flew up towards his face. He was smiling wide back at you, both of his hands giving your ass a squeeze before he returned to finding some clothes to throw on.
“So do I,” he replied.
An amused snort left you, your eyes catching the way Matt’s smile only grew as he continued to focus on getting dressed. You finished tugging your underwear on before putting on a bra next. By the time you’d slipped on some comfortable cotton shorts and a tank top, Matt was already dressed in one of his soft shirts and a pair of gym shorts and was sliding the bedroom door fully open.
Closing your dresser drawer, you shuffled your way out of the bedroom after him. Though when you caught sight of the closet by the roof access stairs partially ajar, you immediately stopped in your tracks. A hand flew to your mouth to stifle a laugh as your eyes darted over to Mittens. He was sitting at the top of his cat tree, an almost pleased look on his face as his tail swished back and forth beside him. At the faint sound of your laughter, Matt paused his steps towards the kitchen.
“What?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder at you. “What’s so funny?”
You raised a hand, pointing a finger up at Mittens in his cat tree by the window. “He did it again,” you told him, still fighting back a laugh. “The closet door is open.”
Matt turned on the spot towards you, his brows furrowing together on his face as his head canted to the side. You saw his eyes shift around the room as he concentrated before he slowly shook his head.
“That doesn’t make sense,” he muttered. “I was at the gala last night. I didn’t go out in the suit at all.”
“Yeah, well,” you replied, attention returning to Mittens sitting triumphantly in his cat tree, “that clearly doesn’t matter to him. The closet door is open so it had to be him again. Neither of us were in there last night.”
A look of determination crossed Matt’s face before he made his way across the living room and over towards the closet. You stood there silently, watching as he reached a hand out and opened the closet door fully. Matt lowered into a crouch before flipping the unlocked steamer trunk open. He raised the false bottom with one hand, sticking his other inside and feeling around for a moment. After a few seconds he lowered the lid again.
“ How does he keep managing to do this?” Matt asked in awe, closing the steamer trunk lid before rising back up to his feet. “He doesn’t even have hands!”
You shrugged, laughing lightly as you focused back on Mittens in his cat tree. “I have no idea, but you secretly love it,” you answered. “It’s become both of yours’ thing at this point with how often he does it.”
Matt turned back towards you, shaking his head. “It has not,” he argued. “And if you recall correctly, you’re the one who wanted to keep him and have a cat. Not me.”
“And you’re the one who cleans his litterbox like five times a day,” you countered. “You’ve told me countless times now that you fall asleep to his purring at night. And I have no idea how many times you’ve told me that you can’t get up to do something because Mittens fell asleep on your chest. Which,” you continued, enjoying the expression on Matt’s face as you did, “I should actually have him do more often. Maybe I could get more nights in with you since Daredevil is so easily bested by a little gray cat.”
“He does not best me, sweetheart,” Matt retorted, making his way back into the living room. “And he’s not going to best me at his game, either.”
“It’s both of your game,” you corrected him. “You love the feisty little cuddlebug. Stop denying it already because neither of us believe you.”
“He’s crafty, I’ll give him that,” Matt muttered.
You rolled your eyes at Matt once more, watching as his focus shifted to trying to find the gloves of his Daredevil suit that Mittens had yet again snuck out of the steamer trunk and hid somewhere in the apartment. It was something he'd been doing for weeks now and you knew Matt loved the challenge even if he wouldn't openly admit it to you.
“Alright, I'll go get a pot of coffee brewing while you play with Mittens,” you teased Matt. “But just know that neither of us believe he's not your baby and that you're not his cat dad now.”
“I am not a cat dad,” Matt off-handedly disagreed as he lifted a pillow on the couch, feeling around for his glove.
You began making your way past him and towards the kitchen, grinning at Matt's laser focus as he searched for his gloves. As you stopped in front of the coffee machine, you looked back into the living room at Mittens. He was contentedly watching Matt meticulously make his way around the room in search of the missing part of his suit.
“He loves you, doesn't he, Mittens?” you called out.
The cat's gray head turned in your direction, his green eyes focused on you. He let out a loud meow almost as if he'd actually responded to your question. As Matt rose up from the floor beside the couch, having just been checking underneath it for his gloves, you heard him mutter out the word ‘liar.’ Breaking into a fit of laughter, you turned around and focused on making coffee for you and Matt, grateful for the relaxing Sunday morning at home with both of them.
matt murdock photos.. last one is so yummy
Thinkin’ about a lil fluffy blurb of the young!daryl au about the morning after their first time. I just think he’d be so nervous but inside so happy, like he just feels so loved🥺
I wanna give him a hug and a smooch
The Morning After | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader
Summary: The morning after you had your first time with Daryl, you could clearly see the apprehension and fear in his eyes, the self deprecating thoughts that you would regret it. Not about to have the perfect man think that you regretted him, you took it upon yourself to reassure him how much you loved him, even if those words weren't spoken yet.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Pre apocalypse.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of Daryl's scars, suggestive themes.
Word count: 1.3k.
A/n: Don't know how to feel about this, to be totally honest with you. I feel like my writing has really been lacking lately, but maybe working on that series idea will help me out a little. Anyways, I hope you like this!
The morning sun was shining brightly through the curtains in your small room. The birds were chirping merrily outside your window and the sound of the children's bright laughter could be heard clearly, the weekend brightening every school goer's moods. The sound of people conversing with each other could also distinctly be heard, and for once, it seemed as if the world's troubles melted away, and everyone was at peace, even if only for a little while.
Daryl Dixon would describe peace as the feeling of having you pressed tightly against his side, your head resting on his bare chest as you slept peacefully. Daryl listened to the steady rhythm of your breathing, the rise and fall of your chest bringing a sense of calm to the young man. He felt a sense of pride knowing that you trusted him enough to sleep so peacefully, completely unaware of your surroundings. You trusted him to keep you safe while you were in your most vulnerable state, and that made a small smile spread across his face.
Although your relationship was relatively new, just recently surpassing the six month mark, Daryl felt more at peace than he ever had when the two of you were merely best friends. And after the night prior, when the two of you had finally crossed the threshold and given your most sacred parts of yourselves to one another, your relationship had taken a turn—for the better or for the worse, Daryl couldn't be sure of until you woke up.
Daryl sighed as he caressed your bare arm softly, his fingers following an invisible path that only his eyes could see. Although Daryl had no regrets for what happened the night before, he had no idea whether or not you'd share that same sentiment. He knew that he was inexperienced and that he hadn't performed as well as someone knowledgeable about it, but he hoped he did okay.
You seemed to have enjoyed it, but Merle had told him before that women could fake it enough to convince the man that they had finished, so he couldn't be sure. And if you did fake it, what would he do about it? He couldn't be mad, but he would be a little hurt. Would he confront you about it? Would he just go home and try to play it cool? He didn't know.
Daryl was startled when he felt the press of something warm against his chest. Gazing down, he locked eyes with you, and he was relatively surprised to be met with that warm, beautiful smile of yours.
You laughed quietly and continued to press soft, gentle kisses all along his chest, being extra gentle whenever you came across one of his scars. Your kisses soon trailed all the way up to his neck, up to his jaw, his cheek, before you stopped right when you got to his mouth. You let your mouth hover slightly above his, your lips barely grazing against each other, giving him the chance to back away if he didn't want to share a kiss with you.
Daryl slowly leaned forward until his lips pressed against yours fully, his hand trailing up your arm and to the back of your neck. The kiss ended too soon for his liking, with you pulling away first to lean your forehead against his.
You smiled fondly at him. “Good morning, handsome.”
Daryl chuckled. “G'mornin', beautiful,” Daryl greeted you, his morning voice raspy and hotter than he knew, making your breath hitch at the seductive sound. “Ya sleep okay?”
Pulling yourself together, you shook the intrusive thoughts from your mind and nodded. “Better than I have in a long time,” you confirmed, letting your fingers gently trail down his chest. “I didn't know that having sex could tire someone out that much.”
Daryl hummed in agreement. “Yeah,” he mumbled, his mind wandering back to his previous thoughts before you woke up. Did you regret it? Would you kick him to the curb after that one night?
Perceptive as ever, you instantly noticed the shift in his mood. Why didn't he look as relaxed as you felt? Then, as if being struck by lightning, you remembered what had happened once before. You were transported back to the day when the two of you had originally almost slept together, and you remembered what Daryl had told you. You remembered his insecurities, and it all made sense.
Not wanting to scare him off by addressing his insecurities head on, knowing that he'd feel uncomfortable if you did that, you instead took his face into your hands and pressed your lips against his for a firm kiss. Your thumbs gently caressed his cheeks, and you smiled against his lips when you felt Daryl's arms wrap around your waist, subconsciously helping you straddle his lap while he moved into a seated position.
You pulled away from the kiss, gazing deeply into his ocean coloured eyes. “Last night was incredible,” you began, smiling at him fondly. “You were incredible.”
Daryl blushed and tried to duck his head in embarrassment, but your hands on his face stopped him. He looked at you, a shy smile spreading across his face. “Yeah?” he whispered.
“Yeah,” you confirmed, nodding for emphasis. “It was amazing. I've never felt that good in my life. You were like a Greek god last night. I don't think you've ever looked hotter, and that's saying a lot, because your sleeveless shirts make you look hot as fuck.”
“Stop,” Daryl mumbled, but he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips at your words.
“I'm serious!” you laughed lightly. “Seriously, Dar, you were amazing last night. I have absolutely no complaints.”
“Yer sure?” Daryl questioned, looking at you unsurely. “Ya dun' have any regrets or anythin'?”
You shook your head. “No. If anything, I regret not doing this sooner.”
Daryl chuckled, leaning forward to press a tender kiss against your forehead. “Yer too nice to me. If ya have any regrets—”
“I don't,” you cut him off, cupping his face in your hands again. “Daryl Dixon, we've been over this once before. When it comes to you, I regret nothing. I don't regret becoming your friend all those years ago, I don't regret agreeing to be your girlfriend, and I certainly don't regret last night. It was amazing, you were amazing, and I'll definitely be doing this again. That is, if you want to, of course. I'd never force you to do anything you don't want to.”
“Are ya kiddin'?” Daryl asked rhetorically. “'Course I wanna do this again. Las' nigh' was amazin' to me.”
“Then it's settled,” you told him with a sense of finality in your voice. “You never have to worry when it comes to me. If you do anything that makes me uncomfortable, you know I'd tell you. Now tell those voices in your head to fuck off.”
Daryl chuckled and nodded. “Yes, ma'am.”
“Good.” You leaned forward and pressed another kiss to his lips before getting off his lap, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching down to grab your shirt. “I'm gonna make us some breakfast. Get dressed and join me, handsome.”
“Ya gon' make bacon?” Daryl questioned, silently mourning the loss of the sight of your bare body as it disappeared beneath your shirt.
“Of course,” you confirmed.
“Then I'll be righ' there, sunshine.”
Never really shown any art on here and I don’t know if anyone is even going to see this .It’s partly based off of that song but mostly based off of The Red Tread by @pastafossa
Falling For the Devil [Part ninety-five: "The Evening of Insecurity"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 9.2k
Summary: You attend a fancy gala as Matt's date.
Or
Old insecurities resurface, making you question your place at Matt's side.
[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.] [FFTD Series Masterlist]
Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut, violence
a/n: The gala smut you've all been patiently waiting for (AKA there's semi-public sex in this installment)! Enjoy the return of Spicy Matty because this installment is slightly angsty but definitely filthy. Feedback is always appreciated!
Tag List: @ninacotte @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @pazii @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @babygirlmurdock @theoraekenslover @wanda-maxamommy @justanerd1
Sitting in the back of the limo, your eyes were fixed on the skyline of the city flying by through the open sunroof. All the bright lights intermittently shining along the tall buildings stood out against the night sky–like false stars glittering amongst the city. As the excited chatter among your friends filled the air, you felt your nerves for the evening increase, gnawing at your stomach as you sat silently beside Matt. Occasionally your eyes would drop down to sneak glances at him in his tuxedo beside you as he focused on the conversation, a smile drawn wide on his handsome face as he listened to Foggy. His presence gave you a bit of comfort at least, though admittedly the sight of him dressed so well also caused a stir of anxious butterflies to flutter in your gut.
You’d gotten ready with Marci and Karen at Karen’s apartment for the evening, so you hadn’t actually seen Matt until he’d shown up with Foggy in the limo a little bit ago. Of course he’d looked just as breathtaking in a tuxedo as you remembered him looking during that charity benefit where you’d received an award last year. The dress shirt and suit coat he had on fit his broad, muscular torso just right, making you wish you’d been alone with him in the back of the limo on the ride to the gala. You were certain you’d have ruined your makeup and messed his hair and clothes if it had been just the pair of you alone, too. He looked more than good enough for you to want to throw decorum straight out of the sunroof if it wasn't for the fact that you both had an audience. You were longing to rip that bow tie off of him and tear open the buttons on his shirt. Your fingers practically itched in your lap to yank the zipper of his dress pants down, your body refraining from climbing on top of him and–
Matt’s hand tightened around yours in your lap, the gesture drawing you instantly from your thoughts. Gaze dropping down from the sunroof once more, you saw he’d focused his attention on you now. His dark glasses hid his eyes, but you could see the little coy smile now playing along his lips. He’d clearly picked up on what you’d been thinking about, the thought causing you to clear your throat as you ducked your head, grinning to yourself. Matt leaned over towards you in the seat, his mouth just beside your ear when he spoke.
“Trust me, I’m thinking about after the gala already, too,” he whispered.
At the sound of his deep voice in your ear, the nerves that had been in your stomach were abruptly replaced with a fire that quickly found its way through your veins, heating you from head to toe where you sat. Eyes still averted towards the deep red heels just visible beneath your floor length black dress, you couldn’t resist the words from spilling out of your lips next.
“Actually,” you whispered back, “I was thinking about what I wish we could’ve done beforehand. In the limo. If it had just been us.”
You caught the sharp intake of his breath beside your ear, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth as you fought back the smile growing further on your face. His hand gripped yours tighter as you felt the limo begin to slow to a stop.
“Oh, hey!” Foggy exclaimed from across the large limo seat. “Looks like we're finally here! Time to rub elbows with the filthy rich, drink all their booze, and eat all their little fancy finger foods!”
You were too focused on the presence of Matt beside you to excitedly stare out the window with your friends now that the limo was gradually pulling to a stop. Instead, you were very aware of the side of Matt's body currently pressed against the side of yours where you sat.
“Might want to control your thoughts tonight, sweetheart,” Matt murmured, his mouth still beside your ear. “I might not be able to hear them, but I can certainly guess at them.”
Raising your gaze from your shoes, you turned and focused on the cocky grin along his mouth. Taking a slow breath in, you fought to control the urge to force him to stay back in the limo with you, desperate to keep him all to yourself for the evening instead of actually attending the event. It was probably a good thing that you hadn't gotten ready together at the apartment because the pair of you might have never left, especially if your first week of living together was anything to go by. Matt dressed in a tuxedo was a turn on all on its own–a sight you were absolutely weak for.
“You're doing it again,” he cheekily pointed out.
“I can't help it,” you whined softly, aware of your friends already beginning to exit the limo. “It's hard to not have thoughts when you're dressed like that.”
Forcing your eyes away from Matt, you began to scoot along the length of the seat, making your way towards the limo's exit with Matt following behind after you. Carefully you slid out of the vehicle, trying to make sure you remained covered as you stepped outside due to the high slit in the side of your dress. You sent the driver a smile and a polite ‘thank you’ as you took a couple of shaky steps past where he was holding the car door open.
Smoothing a hand down the silk of your dress, your other clutching your purse, you turned back around just in time to see Matt gracefully ease his way out of the back of the limo. You almost lost your footing as you saw him rising to his full height in his tuxedo, your heart skipping at the sight of him. His covered gaze quickly found you, probably having caught the stutter of the traitorous organ in your chest. The smile that formed along his mouth caused your heart to start up again, pounding rapidly and unevenly inside of you.
The grin remained as he stepped over towards you, your breath coming in sharper as you tried to contain yourself. Matt held out an arm expectantly in your direction and you swallowed hard, reaching out and directing his large hand to your upper arm. His fingers curled firmly around your bare skin, the heat of them raising goosebumps despite the warmth of the night.
Matt leaned in towards you, amusement in his voice as he whispered, “Breathe, sweetheart. I don't want you passing out on me.”
Heat was burning at your cheeks as a sudden timidity began to overtake you. That feeling like you didn't belong at this man's side–a feeling you hadn't really felt to this extent in quite some time–was suddenly washing over you. It didn't help that you were leading him up onto the sidewalk and over towards your friends where they were standing in front of the elegant ballroom the event was taking place at. Foggy looked handsome as well in his tuxedo as he stood beside both the stunning Marci and Karen, the pair looking like glamorous models in their dresses.
As you led the both of you towards your friends, Matt silent at your side, your eyes were shifting around at all the well-dressed people making their way towards the entrance. Almost immediately your nerves hit you like a truck once more, your foot twisting in your heels as you took another step. Briefly you faltered, but Matt’s hand gripped your arm tight and quickly caught you, stopping you before you could fall.
“Relax, everything is going to be alright,” Matt assured you, his mouth once more beside your ear as you both continued walking towards the ballroom entrance. “I've got you tonight Bambi. Just take a deep breath.”
“Right,” you murmured back, nodding your head quickly as nerves continued to fill your stomach. “Tonight will–will be fun.”
“I'll make sure you enjoy yourself here, sweetheart,” he promised. “Just relax and focus on me. That's all you need to do.”
You glanced at him beside you skeptically, your stomach anxiously flipping inside of you. “Okay, that normally calms me down, but tonight is a bit different. It’s not that you don't always look good, but tonight you look insanely good, Matt. Which almost makes me more nervous than relaxed.”
He chuckled lightly, focusing on you at his side as he walked. “And does it make you more or less nervous to know you're coming back home with me after all of this no matter what?” he asked.
“More nervous,” you immediately answered.
“Mmm,” he hummed back thoughtfully, his attention returning ahead of him. “Then maybe don't think about what I'm going to do to you when we get home tonight.”
You laughed weakly as the pair of you approached your friend group. Unfortunately what he'd said had only made you think about going home with this handsome man after the gala even more. And that was only increasing your anxiety for some reason. You definitely felt out of place at his side now that you'd left the safe confines of the limo, your eyes taking in the sight of all the stunning couples around you.
“Yeah, not helping,” you whispered.
Matt laughed lightly at your side, his warm hand affectionately squeezing your bicep. You didn't know how you had thought you could handle attending this event as his date, but now that you were here, you certainly hoped you could survive it.
Focusing on your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you checked over your makeup and hair once more, making sure everything still looked as good as it had when you’d first left Karen’s apartment. Satisfied that nothing seemed too out of place, even with the occasional kisses Matt had snuck in so far this evening, your hands once more smoothed down the sides of your silk dress.
You had to admit, the dress you’d chosen for tonight looked good on you. It hit in all the right places and the side slit that reached mid-way up your thigh was surprisingly flattering. You’d certainly never worn anything quite so beautiful before, only having splurged because Matt had practically urged you to buy something you really wanted to wear tonight.
But despite how beautiful the dress was and how good it made you feel to be in it, the nerves still fluttered frantically in your stomach as you stared back at your reflection. A frown pulled the corners of your mouth downwards, your eyes focused on the way they’d dropped. The slight confidence boost you’d felt tonight after getting ready with Karen and Marci had almost completely disappeared in the first hour of you being here with Matt.
You’d followed him around, his arm looped through yours, politely greeting the people that approached him and smiling as they discussed varying topics. You’d joined the conversations whenever you’d had a chance, but nothing had fully shaken the insecurity that had only continued to grow inside of you every single time Matt introduced you as his girlfriend, because you could’ve sworn a few women had openly sneered at you. Others had given you a once over, their defined brows arching in something like distaste as they eyed you.
You knew Matt couldn’t exactly see what was going on, but you wondered if he’d somehow known something was happening. He’d often pull you further into his side throughout the evening and whisper comforting words before planting a lingering kiss to your temple. And while the gesture occasionally eased a flare up of your insecurity, that feeling always quickly returned whenever the pair of you passed some gorgeous, model-like woman in what was clearly a designer dress as she turned her nose up at you. Or as some other well-dressed man shot you a curious, almost offended glance. You’d soon found yourself wondering how your friends had been so excited about attending an event with all these stuck-up New York City elite–though it seemed like all of them were fairing vastly better this evening than you. And that only made you further feel like you didn’t belong here, walking the ballroom with Matt’s arm looped through yours as if you actually could be the one at his side.
As you were adjusting a loose strand of hair while looking at your reflection, a woman entered the bathroom and approached the opposite end of the counter, ignoring you entirely as she began fixing her makeup. Squaring your shoulders, you forced yourself out of your spiraling thoughts now that you were no longer alone. They weren't going to help anything tonight anyway.
You reached a hand out, grabbing your clutch purse from off the counter before turning and heading towards the exit. Making your way down the short hallway outside of the bathrooms, you smiled politely whenever you passed someone as sweat began to dampen your palms. When you finally re-entered the extravagantly decorated ballroom a moment later, the sound of the live orchestra playing hit your ears just over the noise of multiple conversations. Feeling your nerves increase even further at the room full of people, you mentally reminded yourself that you only needed to survive for a few more hours here before you and Matt could go home.
Eyes scanning the room, it didn't take you long before you found Matt among the crowd of people. He was standing exactly where you’d left him a few minutes ago when you’d excused yourself to the restroom, but now you noticed he was talking to a different group of people than when you’d been at his side initially–three men and one of those gorgeous, model-like women who was standing a little too close to him. With a sigh, you plastered a bright smile onto your face once more and began making your way through the crowd and over towards the group, walking carefully so as not to trip in your heels. But your smile faltered the closer you neared the group when you began to pick up on the conversation.
“Oh, I apologize,” you overheard one of the men saying to Matt. “I truly thought she was your date tonight. You both just look so good standing together, I only assumed.”
You felt your feet come to an abrupt stop along the floor at the man’s words, your heart thudding so heavily in your chest that you could feel it. That was the last thing you wanted to hear tonight. More confirmation that you weren’t good enough to be at Matt’s side–that you didn’t belong there.
“Ahh, well, considering I’m blind, I can't exactly see why you'd say that,” Matt replied.
His tone had been charming and polite as usual when he'd responded, but you’d caught the edge to his words that the others clearly hadn't. Nevertheless, the entire group still laughed at his joke, but you winced as you stood there rooted to the spot feeling like your heart was gradually sinking to the floor.
“But I can assure you all, my lovely girlfriend is around here somewhere,” Matt added on. “And I’m sure she’ll be back very soon.”
Swallowing hard, you willed yourself to take another step over towards the group, attempting to push down the hurt the man’s comment had caused. You knew it was only a mistake, but that didn't stop it from unleashing even more insecure thoughts that were now running wild in your head, making you feel even worse than you had been a few minutes ago in the bathroom. Though it was taking everything in you to not have your fears feel validated by that small mistake.
You’d barely managed to take two steps closer before you noticed the woman beside Matt raise a hand and place it along his shoulder. The sight had your feet abruptly come to a stop once more. You noticed Matt had stiffened at her touch, but the sight of her so casually and intimately beginning to rub her hand along him immediately elicited a strong reaction from within you. Sick churned in your stomach, your heart nearly launching itself out of your mouth at the sight of this woman so brazenly touching him like that. As if she had every right to do so. The urge to vomit only increased when she leaned in towards him with a seductive smile spread across her damn red lips.
“If I was your lovely girlfriend,” she purred at him, “I’d know far better than to leave you alone in a room full of gorgeous women. Wouldn’t want one coming along and stealing you away from me, if I was her.”
Gritting your teeth, you felt tears burn at your eyes as the other men in the group burst into laughter at her comment. As if what she'd said was actually funny and the implication of her words wasn't vastly inappropriate. The woman just stood there smiling at Matt, her hand still rubbing his shoulder. You took in the frown along Matt’s lips for a second before your feet suddenly moved of their own accord, spinning you around and taking you directly away from the group. Too focused on fighting back tears in your eyes, your hands nearly crushing your clutch purse as you stalked off, you hadn't caught what Matt responded to the woman with.
By the time you'd finally weaved your way around the mass of people and found yourself out of the ballroom and in an empty hallway, you'd completely lost your sense of direction. You had no idea where you'd wandered off to, your mind too busy cruelly playing back the mental image of that woman touching Matt the way she had. Saying the things she'd said.
Right now you wanted to scream. To collapse onto the floor and cry, giving into your spiraling thoughts that came rushing back to you–all the ones trying to tell you that you’d never be good enough for Matt. That you didn't belong at his side at events like this. That you would never be the right woman for him.
Throwing a hand over your mouth, you attempted to muffle the choked sound of a sob that you were desperately fighting back. Because you knew that you couldn't cry here no matter how much you wanted to break down. You didn't want to ruin Matt's evening with your insecurities, the very same ones which you thought you'd put to rest already when it came to you being with him. Yet here you were, hiding in a hallway and trying not to cry because some woman was hitting on him in front of you again . Upset because some guy had mistaken her as his date just because of how she looked standing next to him.
Sniffling hard, you tried to force yourself to stop getting so worked up over all of this. This wasn’t the time or the place. Frantically you blinked back your tears, reminding yourself repeatedly that Matt had clearly not wanted that woman's advances and that he had openly acknowledged having a significant other. He hadn't done anything wrong. You honestly weren't even upset at him.
But still, that moment had wounded you quite deeply anyway. It made you once more feel like you weren't meant to be with him.
Trying to focus on your breathing, you attempted to calm it down and even it out. You needed to relax so that you could find your way back to the ballroom and finish out the rest of the night. You’d worry about all of these spiraling feelings of inadequacy later. But as you were inhaling a slow and quivering breath in, you heard the door at the end of the hall open. Before you could even turn around to see who'd joined you, you heard Matt gently calling out your name. Eyes closing, you roughly blew out the breath you'd just taken. You hadn't wanted him to know how upset you'd been over something so ridiculous. Especially not with how far your relationship had come with him over the past few months.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Matt asked.
With your back facing him, you quickly began wiping at your dampened cheeks, forcing the tears back. You knew it was pointless though because you knew with his senses he had already been aware of the fact that you’d been in here crying. Continuing to roughly wipe at your cheeks, you heard the sound of Matt’s footsteps approaching you from behind.
“Yeah, I'm–I'm fine, Matt,” you answered, trying to keep your voice even.
“You're crying,” he pointed out. “You're not fine.”
Blinking hard a few more times, you tried to quickly regain control over yourself. But the moment you felt Matt's gentle hand on your shoulder, a soft sniffle snuck its way out of you.
“I know you overheard what just happened,” he told you quietly. “I heard you walking over as it was happening. I know that’s what has you upset and I'm sorry, sweetheart.”
You shook your head before looking back over your shoulder at him. Matt was standing just behind you, his glasses no longer on his face and covering his eyes, probably having removed them and slipped them into his jacket pocket when he’d come to talk to you. There was a worried crease between his brows as his eyes continued to dart around your face, scanning you over. You could practically feel the way he was analyzing your body right now.
“You didn't do anything wrong, Matt,” you assured him. “You don't need to apologize. It's just–”
You broke off on a sigh, your eyes dropping down to your red heels peeking out from beneath your dress. Matt's hand on your shoulder began to gently spin you around to face him before his other hand landed on your opposite shoulder. Both of his hands gave you a firm, comforting squeeze as you continued to avoid his stare.
“It's just what, sweetheart?” he prompted.
You winced, shaking your head. “It's stupid. Really. I got upset and I was hoping to just come out here and calm down because I know how stupid it all is. We've been over this before–I thought I was past this already.”
“Hey,” Matt murmured, both of his thumbs beginning to rub soothing little circles over your bare shoulders, “whatever upset you isn't stupid. You can talk to me, you know that. I want you to talk to me. We do have that pinky promise, after all.”
Shoulders sagging in defeat, you knew he was right and had a point. You both had long since agreed to communicate with each other. This was precisely one of those times where you needed to.
Inhaling a deep breath, you slowly released it before your eyes traveled their way up Matt's handsome form in his tuxedo. When your eyes finally landed on his face, you couldn't help but relax at the way he was gazing down at you with so much love and concern reflected in his eyes. The sight only had you feeling further idiotic for having had such a strong reaction to that woman hitting on him.
“It’s really stupid but…I just feel like all night everyone has been staring at me like I don't belong here. Or rather, here with you, specifically,” you confessed awkwardly. “Mainly the women. They've just…openly made faces at me all night long and it's been weighing on me. And then to–to come back from the bathroom just to overhear all of that? For that woman to just touch you like that? Make the comment she did?”
You shook your head, that unpleasant squirming of your heart in your chest returning at the memory. Quickly you tried to blink back the tears, not wanting to cry anymore. Matt's expression only further softened as he listened to you.
“To hear someone else openly acknowledge that another woman looked good next to you–something people here would probably never say about me–it…hurt,” you whispered.
Matt was quick to wrap his arms around your shoulders, drawing you into the front of himself as he pulled you in for a hug. Your own arms timidly rose up, encircling his waist under his suit coat as you buried your face against his chest, careful not to smear any makeup onto his white shirt. The cologne he'd put on tonight filled your nose as you breathed in, somehow calming the uneven pattering of your aching heart. He smelled good, like something warm and woodsy. Safe and comfortable. The longer you breathed it in, the more it eased that ache in your chest just a little bit more.
“I wouldn't concern yourself with the opinion of anyone here,” he told you, his chin resting lightly against the top of your head. “Everyone here is so superficial and just putting on an act. And if you forgot already, they only invited us here last minute as a slight. Believe me, I've overheard some of the things being said about Nelson, Murdock, and Page when they think we can't hear. It's not you, sweetheart. I promise you that. And you know I love you,” he continued, the soft and even rhythm of his voice calming you more in his embrace. “Not a number far enough from one, right? I don't want anyone here but you and I never will.”
“I know,” you whispered back. “That’s why I feel stupid.”
“Don’t,” he replied. “You had a human reaction to the way you're being treated, sweetheart. That’s normal. It’s okay. I'm just sorry that's how you're being treated because you're here with me.”
One of Matt's hands unwrapped itself from around your shoulders, his fingertips beginning to glide their way down the back of your bare arm as his other continued to hold you to the front of himself. Your eyes closed under his touch, goosebumps rising along the skin his fingers had just brushed over. When his hand reached your wrist, you allowed him to gently unwrap it from around his waist.
“But you know,” he murmured, something about his change in tone catching your attention as his fingers interlocked with yours, “one of these days, there'll be a ring on this hand.”
Your eyes flew open, your entire body tensing against the front of him at what he'd just unexpectedly said. His fingers continued to affectionately toy with the fingers of your left hand as you stood there feeling like you suddenly couldn't breathe, your heart skipping a beat.
“And then I'll be introducing you to everyone as my fiancé at these galas,” he continued, a hint of a smile in his voice, “not my girlfriend.”
Your knees felt weak at his words, your right arm holding onto Matt even tighter, afraid you might actually lose your balance in your heels. It had been awhile since either of you had mentioned marriage, both of you having been so busy lately, but you knew it was something you both wanted. It’d been discussed. But for some reason standing there and hearing him so casually refer to you as being his future fiancé had you wondering if maybe you were closer to that future than you’d even realized. Was it possible he’d already bought a ring? You were too afraid to even hope for that, but the prospect of being engaged to him soon had your insecurities immediately draining straight out of you.
“And eventually,” Matt continued, his chin rising from off the top of your head, his lips lowering beside your ear, “I’ll be introducing you as my wife at these things. Then they’ll all have to call you Mrs. Murdock.”
Sucking in a sharp breath that got stuck in your throat, you found yourself suddenly lightheaded just at the thought of that. A jolt of excitement raced through you as Matt pressed a kiss to your cheek, and then his lips were curling into a smile along your skin. At a loss for words, you stood there with your mouth slightly parted in surprise as you tried to process the fact that he'd just said that.
“You like the sound of that, sweetheart?” he whispered.
“Yes,” you breathed out, not even pausing to think.
Because you did. You liked the sound of that a lot. The idea that Matt really wanted only you so much that he’d make a lifelong commitment to you. That he’d put a ring on your finger as a visible reminder to everyone else that you were his, and someday, you’d get to put one on his finger that showed the world he was yours . Forever.
You liked the thought of that far more than you realized, especially here in this moment and after what had just happened out in that ballroom.
“Mmm,” Matt hummed out, his hand which wasn't currently interlocked with yours sliding slowly down your back, “wasn’t quite expecting that reaction when I said that.”
“Wasn’t exactly expecting you to say that,” you whispered back.
His hand continued its slow descent down your spine, a shudder racing up the length of it under his palm. Eventually its trajectory changed, his hand coming to rest along your hip. Holding onto your waist in one hand, his other hand still entwined with yours, Matt began to carefully walk you backwards. As you moved, his nose nuzzled affectionately against your temple while your face remained buried against his chest. You felt your breath coming in sharper, the fingers of your right hand curling around his dress shirt beneath his suit coat as you tried to keep yourself from tripping over your own feet.
“I want to make you mine,” Matt told you, an edge of the possessive Devil in his words. “And I want you to know that you’re mine. To never question it.”
Your back had just barely bumped against the wall before Matt’s hand released yours and instead came to lightly encircle your jaw in his large palm. A soft gasp slipped out of your mouth as his hand gently pushed your head back against the wall, raising it up so that your mouth lined up with his. He leaned in and your eyes snapped shut just before his lips were on yours, somehow soft and full of heat simultaneously.
You lost your footing at the intensity of the kiss, your left hand flying out to grasp onto Matt’s bicep over his suit coat just before his body pushed you further back against the wall, keeping you upright. His hand continued to hold your jaw firmly in place as he kissed you in a way that he had yet to this entire evening–a way that had your knees trembling. But just as you’d barely had a chance to match that intensity, he abruptly broke away from you, a fire burning in his hazel eyes as he focused his sightless gaze along your cheek. Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath, your mind still reeling in the moment.
“I don’t care what anyone says,” he told you. “And I don’t care who tries to flirt with me. There might be a whole room of other women out there,” he continued, gesturing his head back down the hall in the direction from where he’d come, “but the only one I want is right here. And if you want, sweetheart,” he whispered huskily, his hand releasing your jaw and sliding down to lightly grip your neck, “I would be more than happy to show you how much I want you right now.”
Head still resting against the wall behind you, your eyes grew wide. Was he saying what you thought he was saying?
“I–I’m not sure I follow,” you whispered.
Matt's face hovered a few inches from yours, that unmistakable heat still burning in his eyes as he focused back on you, a small smile on his mouth. You were positive the tips of his fingers were feeling the thrumming of your heart with where they each rested along your neck.
“There’s a room to your right,” he said. “Yes?”
Slowly turning your head, you glanced over your shoulder. There was in fact a door there, one labeled ‘office.’
“I don’t hear any cameras inside of it, and I’m guessing it has a locking door,” Matt said.
Your attention returned to him, your brows jumping up onto your forehead. “Are you suggesting we…?”
“Yes,” he replied, his smile growing into something mischievous on his face, a glint of something flickering in his eyes. “If you want to, of course.”
“But–but Matt,” you whispered in a rush, your cheeks heating as you glanced back to the door at the other end of the hall, “there’s literally hundreds of people back in the ballroom. And security roaming around. We are by no means alone here. We could get caught!”
He shrugged a shoulder, the movement drawing your eyes back to him. You could feel your heart beating faster in your chest at his suggestion, an unexpected excitement growing inside of you at the prospect of having him here at this gala without anyone knowing. The pair of you had never done anything like this before, the closest having been when he’d teased you back at Fogwell’s Gym last year. But you'd been alone at the gym that night–this was different.
“I can assure you,” he began, “that no one has even been down this hallway except us all night. Trust me, I can tell. If we keep quiet, no one will ever know but us. So it’s up to you, sweetheart.” The corner of his lip curled into a devilish smirk, the sight causing your thighs to press together. “We can certainly head back to the ballroom instead. I would be content just having you at my side for the rest of the night. Or,” he continued, the corner of his lip curling even higher, “I could ease any of your lingering insecurities for the rest of the evening first. Prove that you and you alone are mine.”
His hand released your neck as he pushed back off the wall, giving you space. Space you found yourself not remotely wanting.
“But the choice is yours,” he assured you. “Because you know I'd never want to make you uncomfortable.”
Mouth opening and closing for a moment, you felt at a loss for words as you tried to decide. There was a part of you that wanted to lead him back down the hallway and just finish out the night. It wasn't like the pair of you couldn't do all of this back at the apartment afterwards, and it would be more than mortifying if the pair of you got caught fucking in an office during this gala. But another part of you was curious. Curious to see what he meant about easing your insecurities–because you knew whatever happened he certainly would. And the thought of fucking him while everyone else was a few rooms over was tempting, especially considering the way both you and Matt had been treated so far this evening by the other guests. It'd be a little secret just between the both of you, and something about that had your blood beginning to rush to your cunt.
Ultimately the image of that woman who'd been running her hand along Matt’s shoulder flashed through your mind again, but this time something else raced through your entire body at the memory of it. Something almost possessive hit you hard. Something territorial. Without further contemplation, you knew exactly what you wanted right now.
Hands flying out, they latched onto the lapels of Matt's tuxedo before roughly yanking him towards you, immediately crashing your mouth onto his. Matt's hand tightened along your hip almost bruisingly tight in response, something like a snarl vibrating in his throat and rolling into your own mouth. The sound of it had your fingers curling further around his suit coat, your feet beginning to clumsily guide the both of you over towards the office door. After a few steps, your hand released his coat, beginning to feel around the wall for the door handle. You were too caught up in kissing Matt to actually look for it, not wanting to end the moment, but he must've realized what you were doing because he broke away from you a moment later, loosing a breathy laugh as your hand continued to blindly search for the handle.
“I take that as a yes on doing this,” Matt teased. He released his hold on your hip, grabbing you by the hand instead and shooting you a cheeky smile, one that had the corners of his eyes creasing. “Allow me,” he said.
He pulled you a few more steps down the hall towards the door, reaching a hand out and easily opening it. All the while he continued to smile back at you, his attention never leaving you. Somehow that only made you want him more–especially in that damn tuxedo.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside, tugging you along after him. A giggle escaped you as you stumbled into the room behind him, your feet a little unsteady in your heels. You were still unable to believe that you were about to do what you were about to with him while so many people were nearby. But as usual, this was Matt you were with. The very same Matt who always made you feel safe and comfortable.
You had barely entered the room before Matt turned back towards you, quickly closing the door and flipping the lock on the handle. And then he was on you once more, pushing you back against the door without warning as he caged you in between his arms. His mouth was at your neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the length of it like you both hadn't just been briefly interrupted. Your head fell back against the door behind you with a soft thump , your eyelids fluttering in pleasure as your hands rose up, grabbing helplessly at his back.
“Only want you,” Matt murmured against your skin between kisses. “Only you.”
He continued trailing his sensual kisses along your throat, his hips pressing you firmly back into the door. Your breath was coming in sharp already, your mind almost entirely forgetting about the gala happening just a few rooms over because of his skilled mouth. When his lips finally landed over your pulse point, you felt his teeth gently bite down on the skin, taking you by surprise and eliciting a sharp hiss of pleasure from you. Your nails dug into his suit jacket, your teeth gritting together to keep from making too much noise.
“ Matt ,” you breathed out.
“ Mine ,” he snarled in response along your neck.
The hand he had splayed wide along the door beside your head dropped down, landing on your thigh through the slit of your dress. He let out a pleased noise as he began to trail kisses past your collarbone, his face lowering to the cleavage the V-cut of your dress created. His hand began to massage the muscle of your thigh, gradually making its way further up your leg and towards your ass as his lips began to suck at a patch of skin along your breast. A dampness was steadily growing between your thighs, your eyes completely closing under his attention as one of your hands slid up and into his hair.
“Thought there was a slit in your dress,” he whispered, face still buried against your chest, the stubble on his chin tickling you with each word. “Was hoping to properly appreciate it tonight.”
You opened your mouth to respond but were cut short by his teeth placing soft nips along the swell of your left breast. His hot breath cascaded its way down the front of your dress as he did, the feel of it causing your brain to go blank. His large palm was kneading your ass in a way that had a soft moan tumbling out of your lips, one you were powerless to stop. Matt's mouth paused at the noise, hovering just above your chest as you felt his hand dragging its way back down to your thigh.
“Careful, sweetheart,” he warned, his warm palm sliding to the inside of your thigh, fingertips brushing against your cunt just over your now damp panties. “Need to keep quiet if you don't want us to get caught.”
“That might prove–”
You stopped short as Matt's fingers pushed your panties to the side. They soon began sliding back and forth through your damp folds, collecting the slick that had been steadily forming there for the past few minutes as your breath hitched. Hips squirming along the solid door behind you, a surge of pleasure raced through you when the pad of his finger began to delicately circle your clit. Eyes closed, you swore you saw white flash across your closed lids. He always knew exactly how to touch you.
“Difficult,” you finished lamely.
“Mmm,” he hummed out thoughtfully.
The pad of his finger continued tracing circles over your clit, your cunt starting to desperately ache for his attention as he did. You could feel his erection growing against your leg through his dress pants with the way his hips were still pushing you back into the door. The feel of it almost had you accidentally loosing another moan.
“Or maybe you'd rather they all knew you were in here with me,” Matt continued, his tone suddenly dark and low–something reminiscent of the Devil. “Is that what you want? For all of them out there to know you're in here letting me touch you like this?”
A quiet curse slipped out of your mouth, your back arching against the door as his finger quickened its pace, pressing more firmly against you as he did. Admittedly you wished that woman out there knew exactly what he was doing to you right now after the way she'd been touching him. You wished she knew just how much he wanted your hands on him instead of hers.
“ Yes ,” you whispered, the word sneaking its way out of your lips.
The truth of your admission surprised even you, your eyes flying open. Matt was hovering over your cleavage, his finger still drawing delicious patterns on your clit. But his face shifted ever so slightly upwards at your response, his focus turning up towards you. There was something almost dark matching the intensity in his eyes, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as a growl rumbled in his chest. Your heart instantly accelerated at the look on his face.
“Certainly caught the truth in that,” he assured you, his finger never stopping its movements along you. “So you want me to give you a reason not to doubt that you're mine for the rest of the night? Is that what you want? To stuff you with my cock and fill you with my cum so you know who exactly you belong to?”
“Yes,” you answered.
Once again you’d found yourself stunned at your admission–and how quickly you’d answered. Even Matt seemed to be taken by surprise for a brief second, his head tilting a little to the side. But then ever so slowly his hand slipped out from under your dress, his smirk growing at the faint, pathetic groan you emitted at the loss of contact.
He straightened up before you, both of his hands landing on the belt at his waist. Your eyes dropped down in the small distance between you, your heart hammering away in your chest as you watched his hands undo the buckle before sliding his zipper down. In a swift movement, he shoved his pants and boxers farther down his thick thighs before tugging his dress shirt out of the way, all the while your eyes were focused on the emergence of his erect cock springing forth. Practically salivating at the sight of it, especially considering the exhilarating situation you both were in, you whined impatiently against the door.
Matt’s eyes flew to your chin at the noise, a smile overtaking the smirk on his lips. In seconds he was pressing you back against the door behind you, one hand firmly grasping your thigh while his other roughly shoved the fabric of your dress out of the way so forcefully that you swore you heard a seam tear. But you didn’t care as he hoisted your leg up onto his hip, the head of his cock bumping against the slick of your core. Your hips eagerly twitched forwards at the contact, already desperate to feel him fill you.
Matt’s forehead lowered to rest against yours, the hand he didn’t have holding your leg in place along his hip beginning to drag his cock back and forth through your arousal. You bit the tip of your tongue more firmly with each teasing pass of him through your folds–partly in anticipation and partly to remind yourself to keep quiet. Even if you couldn’t hear the noise of the gala, there was a small part of you still aware of it continuing not that far away.
But when you felt him finally sink inside of you, you almost forgot your own name. The pair of you released a sigh at almost the exact same moment, as if you’d been waiting far too long for this connection between the pair of you tonight. Though truthfully with how long you’d had to endure chaste kisses, seeing him in that tuxedo while watching him display his intelligence in conversation all night, had felt like a new form of torture. And now having him finally burying himself inside of you felt like the sweet relief you’d been craving.
Matt rolled his hips forward into you, sliding the entirety of himself inside of you as your hands wound their way into his hair, keeping his forehead against yours. His lips brushed against yours so lightly that you almost didn't feel them just before his fingers dug into your thigh where the slit of your dress had slipped out of the way, gripping you tightly in place against him. His other hand landed with a sharp slam on the door near your head, holding himself upright.
“I’ll give you something to remind yourself that you’re mine for the rest of the evening,” his husky voice promised you. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart.”
Your whole body trembled at his words, feeling him drag his cock out from inside of you slowly at first before he sharply thrust himself back inside of you. Clenching your teeth together at the impact, your fingers curled tighter around the strands of his hair, not even worrying about how mussed it would look by the end of this. You had a feeling the both of you would look disheveled at this point no matter what, and a large part of you almost didn’t care anymore.
Gradually Matt began to pick up his pace as he began to fuck you, his hips eventually snapping forward into you so hard that your back and your ass pounded into the door behind you, the resounding bang accentuating each time he pumped into you, the noise louder than the obscene sound of skin on skin. You were struggling to keep your mouth shut, fighting to keep your pleasure quiet as Matt’s hips continued to viciously roll into you over and over again.
Eventually your lone heel on the floor began to slide ever so slightly back and forth along the tile with the intensity of each of his thrusts. One of your hands dropped down, grabbing onto his round and solid bare ass in an attempt to hold onto something. Beneath your palm, you could feel the large muscle repeatedly contracting in your hold with every pump of his cock burying itself inside of you. Eyes becoming half-lidded, your ragged breaths mingled with his sharp grunts in the minimal space that existed between your mouths. His forehead hadn’t left its place against yours, and every so often his mouth would occasionally graze your lips before he took the opportunity to seize your mouth in soft little kisses. The intimacy of the tender action was a perfect contrast to the way he was currently roughly fucking you into the door behind you.
“No one else–will ever have me–like you do,” Matt ground out between each sharp slam of his hips into yours. “You'll be–the only one–I call Mrs. Murdock.”
Your nails dug into the firm muscle of his ass at his words. You once more hadn't expected him to say that, but the pleasure of hearing it again shot straight through you so fast that you swore your whole body had ignited. With his cock filling you so wholly and those words echoing in your mind, you felt a moan building in the back of your throat.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he grunted. “The way your body reacts every time I say that–”
Matt inhaled a hiss of air, his hips faltering in their rhythm as if he was already struggling not to cum just at your reaction. The fact that he was so turned on at the prospect of you being his wife alone had your eyes snapping shut completely, that moan that had been building in your throat making it halfway out of your mouth before Matt quickly quieted it with his own, swallowing the sound.
You could feel yourself growing closer to your release already, far more turned on by hearing him call you ‘Mrs. Murdock’ as he buried himself inside of you than you could ever imagine. With the way his body was shuddering against yours, you could tell it was having an unexplainable effect on him, too. One that was drawing him fast to his own climax.
“Say it again,” you whispered.
You heard Matt let out a low groan, his hips beginning to sloppily slam into your own as his blunt nails dug into the flesh of your thigh, clamping it tighter to his hip. Your release was building just at his reaction, making you understand just how he was feeling in that moment, too.
“Call me that again,” you breathed out.
His mouth found yours immediately, latching on as he kissed you fiercely but with so much tenderness. As if he was struggling with the intensity of his own feelings at your request. When he broke away from your mouth, he stayed so close that you could feel his lips brush yours as he whispered the name one more time.
Your eyes rolled back behind closed lids, your thighs shaking as another particularly rough thrust of Matt's hips pushed you back into the door. Your cunt tightened around him as he once more filled you, the delicious stretch of him inside you one you wanted to remember for the rest of the night.
It was the pleasure-filled, deep moan that Matt so carelessly spilled into the room as he abruptly came inside of you that had you about to cum along with him. He continued to pump into you, the warmth of his release filling you as you neared your own climax. But the moment Matt whispered ‘I love you’ in a broken, breathy pant, you completely lost it.
Gritting your teeth together, you fought back the moan growing deep in your chest as best as you could, though you couldn't completely quiet it as a wave of pleasure raced up the entirety of your body. Your thighs trembled at the intensity of it as Matt's cock gradually began to slow its pace, your own orgasm washing over you in a crashing, dizzying wave that took you by surprise.
Eventually when you'd finally fallen limp against the door behind you, exhausted and spent, his hips entirely stopped their movement. Inevitably Matt's forehead left yours, your eyes opening as he carefully removed himself from inside of you before shifting your panties back in place. The pair of you were both panting hard, attempting to catch your labored breaths. His face was flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, a look of almost smug satisfaction on it.
Matt's hand gently lowered your leg from his hip, returning your foot to the floor as your hands both found their way to his hips, trying to keep your balance. Matt's own hands landed on your shoulders in return, helping to keep you upright as his gaze landed on your cheek.
“Certainly didn't expect tonight to go this way,” he mused.
“You and me both,” you breathed out, still trying to catch your breath. “I've never exactly done that before.”
When Matt was sure you weren't about to lose your footing, he released his hold on you and took a step back. With an amused huff and a growing smirk, he began to pull his pants back up and to fix his disheveled state of undress.
“Pretty sure that wasn't the first time we've done that , sweetheart,” he teased. “We seem to do that often. And quite well.”
You rolled your eyes at him as you readjusted your dress, noticing he had just slightly torn the seam when he’d yanked it out of the way. Though you didn't think it was too noticeable to continue wearing tonight.
“You know what I mean, Matt,” you told him.
“I know, I'm only teasing, love,” he assured you.
Your eyes spotted the small, decorative mirror hanging on the wall across the room, just past Matt as he continued adjusting his tuxedo. You bent down carefully, picking up your clutch purse that you'd dropped to the floor the moment Matt had pushed you back into the door, and then you made your way over to it.
“Convenient there's a mirror in here,” you said to Matt as you began inspecting your slightly smudged lipstick. “I can at least attempt to make myself presentable again before we go back out there.”
Using your fingers to wipe away the smeared lipstick as best you could, you heard Matt approaching you from behind. You saw him appear over your shoulder in the mirror a second later, taking in his out of place hair and slightly rumpled shirt. He wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing himself to the back of you as he leaned in towards your ear, your eyes catching sight of a devious smile on his mouth before he spoke.
“Now when we go back out there,” he murmured, his voice once more low and husky like the Devil’s, “I want you to remember this moment anytime anyone looks at you like you don't belong at my side. And if you catch yourself starting to believe them, I want you to do something for me, okay?”
“And what's that?” you asked him slowly.
Matt's nose brushed along the shell of your ear, your body straightening at the touch.
“I want you to focus on the feel of my cum dripping down your thighs,” he ordered you.
Your hands stopped what they were doing trying to fix your makeup, hovering over your face as your breath caught in your throat. Eyes growing wide at Matt's reflection, you watched as he pulled away from your ear, turning and grinning at you through the mirror.
“I know I'll certainly be paying attention to it for the rest of the night,” he said, grin growing wider.