Matt Is My Little Manwhore

Matt is my little manwhore<333

All this She-Hulk drama about Matt ‘not being a one-night stand kind of guy’ is so funny to me, because I don’t understand how anybody could watch the Netflix series and not come to the conclusion that Daredevil fucks.

why so talented

Cardan and Jude by Elithien 

REAL

Sometimes I just wanna read Tony Stark x reader fluff:((

When you just want to read fluffs but theres a shit ton of smut of the character:

This is one of the best fanfics ever

The Audible Experience

DD Masterlist

Well, I finally started watching Daredevil!

“Mathew, I read you the giving tree. I have that memorized. I can’t read aloud all the time.” You give a breathy laugh in mock frustration.

“But I like your voice better!” He huffs as you continue to type in your card information for the subscription to audible.

“Mathew, you’re blind and I’m dyslexic, let’s leave the reading to the professionals? Or, even better, almost every book known to man is in braille now, YOU can read to ME!”

You laugh, putting your hands on your hips, you know it’s a worthless gesture but he can probably feel it in the air or something.

“Okay, point taken!” He laughs, reaching to hand you your credit card.

“It’s at 9 o’clock,” you laugh, “don’t knock my water over.”

“I know, I know!” Matt laughs handing you the offensive piece of plastic.

“Now, start thinking of books to read, I’m starting with the Ender’s Game novels.” You giggle buying a few extra credits to fluff out your library for your first few times.

“Why a sci-fi coming of age novel from the 80’s?” Matt smirked wrinkling his nose in confusion.

“Because, the novels, especially the sequel, pose a very fascinating moral and legal quandary about the discovery of new life and Xenocide.” You shrug, “You’re catholic, it should, theoretically, be right up your alley!”

“Okay, that’s fair. But if I’m not mistaken, you cannot say the same about the Hunger Games.” Matt laughs as your thumb pauses over the download button.

“Okay now THAT’S just freaky, there is no possible way for you to discern that from anything I just did.” You gape, eyes wide in what Matt assumed to be a very comical version of shock.

“Nope, no freaky sense needed, I just know you very well.” Matt laughed using his hand to snap your floundering mouth shut.

“Okay, fine, But I’m not reading The Devil in the White City. No serial killers for me, I got one devil in my life and that’s more than enough!” You say settling back into Matt’s side.

“Oh wow! How did you know?” He asked looking rather impressed at your guess work.

“I saw you fingering a copy of it at that book store with the braille section.” You shrug.

“I could be fingering other things.” Matt smirks wiggling his eyebrows face forward.

“Matthew! I’m appalled, Jesus is listening you know.” You laughed, throwing a pillow at his head that he didn’t attempt to dodge.

After your afternoon of debating books, you settled on your first four. Orson Scott Card’s Enders Game, Steven King’s Black House, Frank Herbert’s Dune, and William Goldman’s The Princess Bride.

You worked your way through each title, some new, some treasured favorites. These little pockets of time that you had carved out to read were your favorite. Some nights you and Matt would snuggle up to one another and drink a glass of wine letting the book play, just reveling in each others company. These nights were always pleasant, normally accompanied by Matt feeling out your features, or gently placing his hands on your pulse points one at a time. Your very skin seeming to soothe him.

Some nights you would put together a puzzle while you listened, hands fidgety and restless needing a menial task to help you concentrate. (Your favorite instance of this was when Matt bought an all red puzzle, the objective being much harder than a normal puzzle, so that he could show you how worthless he thought your pastime was. (He ended up enjoying it so much he bought you 7 more.)

Some nights you were overstimulated, Matt’s super senses were always tough to navigate, and you also tended to get overly stimulated in your own way. Sometimes for you, the lights were too bright all day and you would rest next to Matt , audiobook lulling you back to yourself as he kept his hand resting over your eyelids to block out the harsh glow of the billboard outside of the apartment. Sometimes it played into your sound proof headphones, hands placed over top of the headphones in Matt’s ears in an attempt to block as much noise as possible. It was always a perfect distraction on those nights when all you needed most, was to escape.

The nights you loved best though, we’re the ones where you conversed non stop, forcing yourselves to pause the novel to talk about plot points that tickled your brain, or struck a cord. You loved being able to pick Matt’s brain in any situation, so taking advantage of his longing to understand a plot, or see your enjoyment for something he thought to be dreadful, or something fascinating about how the law would work in that scenario, always felt rewarding.

Each book had its own fascinating qualities. You picked them mostly based on your mutual enjoyment of certain topics.

Ender’s Game was of course your pick, it was the book series that sparked your interest in ethics. If you hadn’t read this novel, you had explained to your loving partner, you wouldn’t have become a lawyer.

“Okay wait, so its illegal to have three kids?”

Yes Mathew, they have a surplus population and it’s to prevent overcrowding the planet.”

You sigh.

“So they get to have three because?” Matt questions, asking softballs so he can tee up for his big point.

“His sister was too nice, his brother was too

Mean.” You shrug, “ Needed someone who’s compassionate nature would allow them to understand the enemy in order to defeat them.”

“So Ender was just a terrible weapon, from age six, and they figured this all out by letting him kill another child?” Matt says outraged.

“Yes Mathew, that’s correct.” You nod brushing hair from his eyes.

“Hiram Graff is a war criminal.” Matt grumbles, once again pressing play on the novel.

Steven King’s Black House was the sequel to his first novel The Talisman, and your second audio book. You had both read the first novel together in the book club, where you met, in college. Your interest in the ethics of sending a child on a deadly cross country road trip, and your scathing false take down of the Sunlight Gardner’s Children’s Home were what endeared you to Matt, he found it particularly adorable that a fake scenario could make you this angry. He thought it a sin you hadn’t bothered to see where the rest of the story went, so it went on the list.

“Oh my god Matt, I’ll never drink beer again.” You shudder, nauseated by the description of a horrific death in the novel.

“Yeah, almost makes you wanna stop drinking forever.” Matt nods in affirmation.

“Also, that crow? I’m so disgusted. That’s deranged Matthew. Jack needs a break. If I were Jack, Speedy Parker would have a broken nose.” You sigh, for once thankful Matt’s apartment was never fully dark.

“I know, but hey, I’m glad you’re not a detective! Or a magical kid from LA! You also don’t have to hunt down a serial killer.” He laughs cheerfully.

“Your right! All I have to do is pin down a mafioso and his crew of neighborhood ruining cronies.” You laugh, “well, Jack and I at least have one thing in common!” You sigh.

“What’s that?” Mat laughs stroking your hair as you lay in his lap.

“We can sleep when we’re dead!”

Dune was another classic from your youth. You had read it as a child with your father, and you thought it would be nice to share a story so close to your heart with someone else. You also thought that the politics of it all would be interesting to your favorite vigilante, and enjoyed making jokes about a certain Wilson Fisk being quite similar to the titular villain in the novel.

“Oh my God!” Foggy cackles as you begin to impersonate Wilson Fisk. You had come into work that day, and every one was down in the dumps, so you tried to make light of it with jokes.

“This is MY CITY! MY HELLS KITCHEN! MY DUNE!” You shout in his gravelly style, doing a very poor job of catching his essence.

“Oh my God that’s awful!” Matt laughed, “The dune quote? Really?”

“Yes my dear Piter! He who controls the Heroine controls the universe!” You laugh manically.

“That was Madam Gao.” Foggy said swiping a tear from his eye.

“Yeah, well, joke’s still good.” You shrug.

“We’re gonna have to take their audible subscription!” Karen laughed, “ I won’t survive anymore of this Dune.”

“Ah, but Karen! The mystery of life isn’t a problem to solve, but a reality to experience, and you are experiencing the very best that science fiction has to offer!” You smile kissing Matt on the head as you stood from your seat. “Now my children, who needs a cup of coffee!” You smile.

“Ah, yes, the spice water. I’m assuming the sleeper must awaken?” Foggy grins and you gasp.

“Ah! Foggward! You do know Dune!” You laugh.

“Yes Y/n, I too did not get laid in college!” Foggy laughed, and Matt smiled.

“Oh yes I did! Ask Matt!”

After Dune, there was Matt’s final choice. William Goldman’s The Princess Bride. This, to you, was a shock. The Princess Bride was one of your favorite films, and one of the last Matt ever saw that left enough of an impression for him to care. What you DIDN’T know is that unlike you and your ability to rewatch the movie with great pleasure, After Matt went blind, instead of watching the film over and over, he opted for the book in braille.

“Darling? Did you drink the whole pot of coffee?” You shouted to Matt as you stared in disbelief at the empty coffee pot.

“Indeed I did.” He said solemnly from where he sat, running his hands over a legal document.

“That’s not fair Matthew! I made that pot for me and Karen!” You whined going to fill up the pot for the third time that day.

“Life isn't fair, it's just fairer than death,that’s all.” Matt sniggered.

“Shut up Matthew.”

“Sorry love.”

The Princess bride became your comfort story. You were sick? Princess bride. Couldn’t sleep? Princess Bride. Beat to hell and back? Princess bride. You started quoting it more and more in everyday life, and Karen and Foggy thought it was adorable, and so did you.

“Matt, why are we reading it if you know it line for line!” You giggled one night while you were laying in bed listening to Matt quote one of his favorite lines.

“Because, it reminds me of us!” Matt laughed. “I’m the Man in Black, and you’re my Buttercup.” He smirked.

“Matt that was terrible!” You laughed, “You don’t wear a black suit anymore!”

“Eh, it seemed like that romantic stuff you’d love so I went for it.” He smiled softly at you stroking your hair. “Ooh! Here’s the best line.

‘There is no room in my body for anything but you. My arms love you, my ears adore you, my knees shake with blind affection. My mind begs you to ask it something so it can obey. Do you want me to follow you for the rest of your days? I will do that. Do you want me to crawl? I will crawl. I will be quiet for you or sing for you, or if you are hungry, let me bring you food, or if you have thirst and nothing will quench it but Arabian wine, I will go to Araby, even though it is across the world, and bring a bottle back for your lunch. Anything there is that I can do for you, I will do for you; anything there is that I cannot do, I will learn to do.’ It’s perfect I think.” Matt smiles nuzzling into your neck.

In that moment you’re so totally captivated you find it hard to breathe. Matt of course could tell this and kept that little devilish grin on his face as you stared at him with moon eyes, glazed over in total affection.

“I would do anything for you, my Buttercup.” Matt smiled, loving the smell of your skin and the frantic beating of your heart.

“Do I love you?” You smiled, purposefully sounding puzzled, making Matt chuckle softly. “My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches.”

To sum up this final moment, more perfect words were ever said than were said in The Princess Bride.

“Since the invention of the kiss, there have only been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.”

she has such a way with words

Jude Duarte in The Cruel Prince by Holly Black

REAL.

I need to stop joining new fandoms and falling in love with new people.