So Stinkin Cute Ahhhh - Tumblr Posts

Lingering | Matt Murdock x Reader

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader (no y/n)

Wordcount: 1.2k

Warnings: literally like none. Just a bunch of fluff and Matt taking care of you. This is entirely self indulgent.

Summary: You've been worked to the bone and slept a total of 3 hours, so Matt takes care of you during your burnout.

A/N: there will be a smutty part 2 to this 😌 This was made for ezra and i bc we're tired. Enjoy!

"Sweetheart," Matt whispers, knuckles brushing across your cheek as he pulls you back into consciousness as gently as possible. You had been working on his couch for hours on end, laptop screen now dimmed where it lay on your lap, forgotten as you slip in and out of sleep. His touch stirs you, dreams fading out into the background only to be replaced by the pleasant feeling of Matt’s touch.

Your eyes finally blink open enough that you can focus on him, smiling softly at the sight of your boyfriend kneeling in front of you, his hands warm on your cheeks. The billboard outside his window glows brighter now that the sun has dipped behind the skyline, reds and purples dancing across Matt’s face and you can’t help but wonder how he gets prettier each time you see him.

Then again, maybe it’s the lack of sleep getting to you, because the first words out of your mouth are “you look like a skittle, Matty.” He huffs out a laugh, thumb rubbing against your cheekbone, wiping away the tear that falls from the corner of your eye “care to explain?” You shake your head and lean further into his touch, fighting back against the urge to let your eyes slip shut again. “The candy, Matt. They come in rainbow colors, and the light outside is making your face purple. Need I say more?”

“No, I guess not,” Matt muses quietly, grin dimpling his cheeks, brushing back the hair that sticks to the side of your mouth from where you had leaned into your hand.

His touch drop from your face to take the laptop and move it to the coffee table, then gripping your waist so he can pull you to the edge of the couch. Your thighs press to his sides and you can feel each breath he takes, steady and a bit faster than your own sleepy breathing. “Sorry I fell asleep, I was trying to wait until you got home,” you mumble, leaning forward to place your forehead on his shoulder, cursing under your breath when your head thumps harder against him than anticipated. Damn your heavy head and sleep-deprived reflexes.

Matt hums in acknowledgment, tapping your arms until you get the gist and raise them to wrap around his shoulders. “You should’ve gone to bed sweetheart, especially if you’re this tired. Mind telling me how many hours you got last night?” He knows he has you when your breath hitches, face pressing further into his neck. You don’t want him to know just how late you had been up the night before while he was out deviling, finishing your notes for the day while you waited until you eventually passed out.

But you know that he’s just concerned, so you press a kiss to the junction of his neck and jaw in hopes that he won’t scold you when you tell him. “About three hours,” you whisper, stifling an obnoxiously timed yawn that almost seems like the universe picking Matt’s side. He sighs quietly, though there’s no real agitation behind it, just concern “let's get you to bed, then.” This time there’s no need for a tap before you wrap your legs around his hips, clinging to him as his hands slide under your thighs to lift.

Matt stands with no sign of strain, even as he holds your weight in his arms and carries you across the living room and into his bedroom, bending over to ease you onto the edge of the bed. The exhaustion that had seeped into your bones weighs heavier the second Matt steps back to rummage through the drawer that keeps your t-shirts, hands moving across each article of clothing to feel the fabric. He picks the one softest against his fingertips and plucks it from its spot, moving back to stand in front of you. He quickly picks up on the way that you’re swaying, eyelids moving slower with each passing second “c’mon angel, let’s at least change out of your clothes.”

Your stomach flutters with affection at the use of angel, a dopey smile finding its way on your lips. Matt reserved that name for you, the highest of praise coming from the catholic himself, love and adoration seeping through the two syllables. He loved listening to the way it made your heart leap to your throat, mapping the mental image of your blissed expression that his senses piece together, tucking it away for later examination.

Matt leans forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, placing the sleep shirt to the side so he could tug the one currently on you over your head, tossing it into the corner. You take the time to shimmy off your pants while he unfolds the replacement, placing it on top of your hair and tugging it down, placing yet another kiss to the tip of your nose the second the collar passes.

“Can you stay for a bit before you go out, Matty?” you speak in a hushed tone, letting your boyfriend maneuver your arms into the holes, limbs too tired to do much other than grab at him.

“Of course I can- lets get you under the blankets, baby,” Matt presses against your shoulder until you lay back, eyes already closing while he tugs the silk comforter up to your chest. There’s an attempt to open your gaze one more time so you can catch a glimpse of him to admire in all your sleep deprived glory before inevitably collapsing back into the arms of slumber, but you sorely underestimate the intensity of your fatigue, eyelids only twitching with the attempt.

Matt sheds his work clothes, head tilted just slightly to listen to the sound of you, breathing slowing until it evens out completely. The bed dips under his weight as he slides in beside you, reaching around to pull your body flush against his chest. Matt always needs to feel you in one way or another, needed to feel the heat of your form against his, smooth skin pressed to the marred flesh of his chest. You’d trace the scars late at night when it was just the two of you, curving your finger along them like his body was a canvas and you were the mastermind behind the art.

Your lips part, slow intakes of breath filling your lungs. “I love you so much,” you murmur against his neck, drifting away and leaving him to follow.

Matt holds you tighter “I love you too, sweetheart.”

—

Sometime around midnight is when you wake up again, hand thumping on the mattress beside you but finding no sign of Matt, only a lingering heat left behind from where he had laid next to you. You know he would probably resort to smothering you with a pillow if you attempted to stay up for him, so you decide against it, instead dragging his pillow to your chest and inhaling his scent, letting it envelop you as you close your eyes once again.

Somewhere on a rooftop, a few buildings away, Matt is listening to your breathing, pausing only momentarily to ensure that you get the rest you need before continuing on with his patrol. Slinking in and out of the shadows as fast as possible so he can get home to you.