#matt murdock x subspace!reader

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

maroon - m. murdock

a/n: just something cute i wanted to throw together. remember to engage in safe and consensual sex with your partners and if you're going to be kinky have a safeword/system in mind!! warnings: sex! dirty talk! use of a safeword! matt is a hard dom until he isnt! reader is kind of feminine coded? idk. they go nonverbal, and matt takes care of them after they use the safeword because they are deeep into subspace! overstimulation and aftercare ! word count: 1.1k summary: you use the safeword during a rather passionate moment, so matt takes care of you. pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader now playing: maroon - taylor swift "and how the blood rushed into my cheeks/so scarlet, it was maroon/the mark they saw on my collarbone."

There’s nothing quite like sex with Matt—This much you know, you are very well acquainted with it. In fact, you are probably the expert on sex with him. Like, you could get a PHD on the matter, that is how well you know sex with Matt Murdock.

And likewise, he knows you like the back of his hand. Maybe better than the back of his hand.

But, everyone has their limits. Especially you.

Because sex with Matt is like heaven, pure unadulterated bliss, nothing between you and the edge every time he takes you into his arms. But heavenly pleasure toes the line of intense agony, and of course, sometimes you are into that.

Not tonight, though.

Your legs are shaking as his thrusts become tougher, your fourth orgasm just on the horizon. He wants to make you come one more time, whispering dirty, horrible things in your ear.

Your arms are tied above you, and they’re beginning to ache—And the ropes are beginning to burn your wrists as he thrusts into you. And of course, it’s causing tears to form in your eyes, something that Matt can smell in the air.

“Crying for me, pretty thing?” He laughs, the game still fun to him. You let out a soft whimper in response, trying to muster up the energy to tell him that something was wrong.

“Matt..” You whimper out, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. He gently taps your cheek and grips your chin.

“That’s not my name, darling. Might have to make you come five times now, instead.”  

You want to enjoy it, you want to enjoy it so badly, because the first three orgasms were fucking amazing, but it’s.. Your brain is slipping, and everything hurts in a bad way. As he thrusts into you, pain shoots down your thighs.

“Lava,” You tell him, the safe word slipping out of your mouth. Matt immediately stops, his grip on you softening. He wipes the tears from your face softly, noticing how you shake so intensely.

“Oh, baby..” He coos softly, slowly pulling out of you. You let out a soft whimper, as he makes his way to untie your hands. When he does, he takes your hands in his and gently brings them to his lips and presses the back of them. “I’m going to go draw you a bath, okay?” he asks, and all you can do is nod.

He leaves for only a few minutes, and when he returns, he asks, “Can you walk to the bathroom?”

You sit up and go to stand, but your legs are shaking, so you grip his arm. He frowns gently, and then asks, “Is it okay if I pick you up?” He asks. Again, all you can do is nod. He carries you over to the tub, before setting you down. He crawls into the tub behind you, pulling you close to his chest as he begins to wash your skin, making sure to lather and massage your scalp.

You know he feels guilty about pushing you so far, but that thought is so far in your brain. He makes sure you’re nice and clean, before just sitting in the tub with you, rubbing your arms gently. But, eventually, he notices that the water looses it’s warmth a bit too much and stands again, drying himself off before wrapping the towel around his waist.

Then, he takes your hands and tells you, “C’mon, we gotta stand up now.” He hums, before pulling you up. You shiver a bit when you step out of the tub, and he just comes from behind you and begins drying you off with the towel, making sure to grab the softest possible towel.

Then, he makes sure it’s wrapped around you when he leads you back to the bed. He sits you down before grabbing a pair of boxer briefs, then slipping on an old ‘Columbia’ crewneck. Then, he pulls out a pair of underwear, a pair of your favorite pajama shorts and one of his tee shirts.

Then, he kneels down in front of you and begins to dress you. As he does, you finally find the words,

“Matt, you don’t have to—”

“I want to. It’s okay.” He says softly, leaning down to kiss your leg gently as he slips on your pajama shorts. Then, he says, “Lift your arms for me,” and you comply, letting him slip the tee shirt on. Then, he gets up and goes to the bathroom to grab your hairbrush.

He sits behind you on the bed, beginning to brush out your hair. When he’s done, he puts the hairbrush down and begins to feel around for your lotion. When he finds it, he moves to kneel in front of you again. “Give me your hands, my love.” He says gently.

When you hold your hands out for him, and he begins to gently rub lotion on your hands, and your aching wrists. The cooling lotion sooths the burning sensation. The pads of his fingers begin to massage your hands gently.

When he’s done he puts the lotion down and leaves you for just a minute to find you a snack and water. He hands you the water bottle and a bag of candy to get your sugar back up. But he stays kneeling by your side. He gently rubs your back for a while before asking,

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” You smile gently, taking a sip of your water. Man, you think, he’s so fucking pretty.

“I’m sorry for pushing you so hard, baby.” He says gently, but you just smile.

“It’s okay, seriously.” You promise.

“No, it’s not. I should’ve been paying attention and checking in more. But I am proud of you for remembering the safe word.” When you finish your snack, you lay back in bed and pat the space next to you.

“Come lay with me, please.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” He says gently, and lays with you, wrapping his arms around you. “I love you.” He says gently.

“I love you,” You echo, leaning over to kiss his arm. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Anything for you.” He says gently, “Now go ahead and get some rest, darling.” He’s thrilled that you’re feeling better, the guilt slowly, leaving his bones.

“Alright.. Night, Matty. I love you.” You say again, sleep plaguing you.

“I love you, too.”

You fall asleep like that, right in Matt’s arms. You love him dearly and nothing has proved to you that this is the man you want to spend the rest of your life with more than tonight. You love how gentle he is with you in your most vulnerable moments; It makes you fall deeper and deeper in love with him.

[pastafossa]

"Do I Need To Beg?" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic) 🔥

Right so like a lot of other people, I saw that leaked trailer and had thots, mostly about Matt's new beard, and much like my thoughts on his coat, none of these thots are pure. This is pure fucking sin, in other words, one of the filthier things I've written, so scroll past if that's not your thing. Also thank you to my friends over in the Murdock's Tuna Team server, ya'll are the best fucking enablers ever.

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Chapter Summary:

“Welcome home, Mrs. Murdock,” he purred darkly, lazily dragging his tongue across his lips in a way that told you, quite clearly, what he was imagining. “If you need to shower or drink a glass of water, do it now. Because the second you enter this bedroom, you’re mine for the rest of the night. And I have no intention of letting you go until I’ve had my fill.”

Wordcount: 4.1k words

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: oral f!receiving and a LOT of it like this is literally just a love letter to bearded Matt eating you out (Matt retains his 😺eating crown), brief oral m!receiving, Dom!Matt, Sub!Reader, bondage, overstimulation, subspace, dirty talk, PiV towards the end, Matt's new fucking BEARD none of us are ok

Matt with an oral fixation incoming, here have this:

Your trip out of town had lasted longer than you’d initially expected. 

Initially you'd only planned to be gone for ten days, but ten had abruptly been extended to an irritating fourteen with little notice. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything you could do about it, though Matt had reassured you over the phone that it was fine. While he missed you dearly and would have vastly preferred you back home and in his arms, he understood that things were out of your control. However, he did have one more thing to say before you’d both given your goodbyes, something that wound up eating at you for the rest of your trip in all the best ways. 

“Besides,” he’d murmured. “It’ll give me a little more time to work on my surprise for you.” 

What that surprise was had been a mystery, one he’d smugly refused to reveal no matter how much you’d tried to pry it out of him over the ensuing phone calls. It couldn’t have been a gift for your next wedding anniversary, which was still a few months away. Nor was it your birthday, or Valentine’s Day. As best you could guess, this was just one of those moments when Matt decided to give you something, just because he could, just because he wanted to, no prompting needed. That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence with him, one more thread in the tapestry made from all the many reasons you loved him. 

However, on the list of things you’d expected to find when you finally made it home, you hadn’t thought to include Matt standing shirtless in the bedroom doorway, his sweats slung low on his hips, his hair still damp from his shower. One corner of his mouth curled up into a wicked smirk, and oh, he knew. He knew, or he’d at least suspected what your response would be to his surprise, and you drew in a sharp intake of breath.

He’d grown a beard. 

You raked your gaze over it, taking in the way it seemed to change the angles of his jaw and his face, somehow adding a dangerous edge to his smile. What was more, there were little patches of grey scattered amidst the dark of it. You had no idea why, but something about those threads of silver only added to the building heat between your thighs, a fire that had started the second you’d seen him standing casually in the doorway, his beautiful body on open display just for you. 

How would it feel to touch him, cradle his jaw in your hands now? 

How would it feel when he pressed his lips to yours, to your throat?

And how would it feel as he made his way down, down, down, the rough scrape of his beard lighting you up as he drifted towards one of his favorite places on your body? 

Your shiver drew a rumble of satisfaction from him. He slowly rolled his head back, inhaling deeply, clearly savoring the scent of your arousal. 

“Welcome home, Mrs. Murdock,” he purred darkly, lazily dragging his tongue across his lips in a way that told you, quite clearly, what he was imagining. “If you need to shower or drink a glass of water, do it now. Because the second you enter this bedroom, you’re mine for the rest of the night. And I have no intention of letting you go until I’ve had my fill.”

You were pretty sure you’d never downed a glass of water and gotten into the shower so quick in your life.

Matt kept his promise. The second you stepped out of the bathroom, he was on you, his beard a deliciously unfamiliar sensation as he caught your face between his hands and pressed his mouth hungrily to yours. That wild kiss didn’t stop at just one, your lips separating only to meet again a half-breath later, over and over again. The two of you only grew more frantic with every second that passed, hips beginning to rock, bodies swaying towards each other, until you were both left gasping, frantic and breathless, hands groping desperately across whatever bared skin either of you could reach. 

“Bed.” The word was a low growl against your lips, his hand wound loosely around your throat, one thumb up under the hinge of your jaw to force your head back for him. One of your hands, meanwhile, had slipped back and down beneath the hem of his sweats, blatantly groping at the thick curve of his ass. He let out a rough groan that you eagerly swallowed down, the skin around your mouth already burning from the rasp of his beard where it had rubbed against you. “Fuck—Bed. Now.” 

He wasn’t going to get an argument from you. 

It was a short, stumbling walk from there to the bedroom. Neither of you bothered to keep your hands off each other, your fingers fisting in his damp hair as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses to that special spot under your jaw that made your legs shake, Matt seemingly eager to drink the remaining droplets of water from your skin. You should have guessed his plans when you noticed the towel on the bed. But it was hard to focus with the tantalizing burn of his new beard dragging across the delicate skin of your throat, and with the taste and scent and touch of him filling your senses after a long two weeks apart. It felt like there was nothing in the world but him, nothing but the scent of cinnamon and copper and salt, the warmth of it so rich you couldn’t help but gasp with it as he herded you backwards until at last, you both found the bed. 

The world lurched, and just like that you were pinned beneath him, the broad, heavy weight of him easily trapping you against the mattress, not that you minded. Your ragged moan of his name seemed to hang in the air, your fingers still tangled in his hair. God, your cunt was practically dripping already as you lifted your hips, trying to rock up against him in invitation. You'd been thinking of this the entire time you'd showered. He had to have sensed it. “Matt, sweetheart, please.” “I’ve been thinking about this since you left,” he purred in your ear, his breath a rush of burning embers before he started down your body. The moment he reached your bare breasts, he pressed his face between them, the rasp of his beard making you shiver. He inhaled deeply, dragging your scent deep into his lungs. That inhale led to a hitched, delighted moan, his hips rocking down against the mattress. Without warning, he turned his head and eagerly drew one of your nipples into his mouth. The greedy suction of his mouth when paired with the bristling scratch of his facial hair made you whine, writhing as best you could where you were trapped beneath the heavy weight of muscle and bone. But despite the way you offered up your chest in invitation, he had other plans, quickly releasing your breast to slide further down your body. His voice dropped into something low and sinful, then, soft as silk against your skin. “And I’ve missed this sweet pussy of yours, sweetheart.” He placed a tender, innocent kiss against your hip, the gentle nature of it at direct odds with the obscenity of his words. It was a combination that left you burning up, your breath hitching as he pointedly lifted one of your legs to drape it easily over his shoulder. He directed his blank gaze back up towards your own, his lips curling up into a feral grin. “So I’m going to see how many times I can make you come with my mouth tonight. And I’m not stopping until you’ve soaked everything underneath you.” 

Oh god—

Your eager moan and the fresh flood of arousal between your legs was the only answer he needed. He let out a quiet hiss before diving in, his tongue burying itself between your folds for one heavy lap up your cunt, the first taste of you he’d had in weeks. And with a rough moan that matched yours in volume, he threw one arm over your hips, and settled in.

And there he stayed, his face buried between your thighs, for hours. 

You lost track of your orgasms after you came for the third time, three of his fingers hilted deep inside you, his tongue lapping firmly, determinedly at your clit. It had been impossible to resist between that and the rhythmic,  rough scrape of his beard against the inside of your thighs—a sweet-edged pain you were quickly growing addicted to. You came so hard you saw spots at the edge of your vision, came so hard you left a puddle on the towel beneath you, your startled cry loud enough to wake the neighbors. Your brain didn’t even know what to do with that kind of pleasure, your thighs snapping shut around his head, your whole body writhing as the pleasure washed over you in uneven waves.

But Matt didn’t so much as slow. If anything, he simply opened his mouth wider, drank from you even faster, swallowing down that flood as if you were the sweetest of wines. The moment he tasted your orgasm, one that drenched his beard and mouth, his eyes snapped shut, his hips bucking against the mattress. A wild, shaky moan tore from his throat as he came with you, soaking his sweats, the rhythm of his mouth growing clumsy and uneven.

Yet still, he didn’t stop, despite the fact you'd both come. All it took was a few breaths before he was back at it. He seemed almost mindless now, focused only on taking, greedy and insatiable as he forced your body and his to start the climb yet again.

You lost control over your body not long after, your reactions instinctive and uncoordinated. Somehow you found your hands back in his hair, soft, sweat-soaked strands sliding through your fingers. You weren’t sure what you meant to do then, whether you wanted to push him away from your overstimulated body or pull him in even closer, ride his face the way you wanted. Either way, he wound up deciding for you. 

“Seems to me like someone can’t control herself.” He braced one hand firmly against your abdomen, and though he couldn’t see you, you still felt pinned by his gaze and the almost drunken little quirk of his lips. Even in the low light, you could see how his beard and mouth glistened, slick with the taste of you. “Do you need the rope, sweetheart? Do you want me to help you?” 

There wasn’t a chance in the world of you remaining still without that rope, not if he intended to keep going. And you both knew it. 

“Yes, please,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering closed as he clumsily rose from his place between your legs. Despite the lingering oversensitivity in your body, the sudden absence of his mouth still made you whimper. You just—you needed more, the promise of it keeping the tide of your arousal from fully easing.  

“What a good girl, admitting you need help,” he crooned, crawling up the bed far enough to reach the nightstand, pausing only to brush his lips against yours, the scent of your sex clinging heavily to his beard and mouth. He opened the drawer and dug around for a moment, until he finally drew free a length of red silk rope, testing it out in his hand. Once he was satisfied, he began to loop the rope around your wrists. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you can’t move. Because I meant what I said. I’m not letting you up until I’m finished with you, and I’m nowhere near done, sweetheart.” 

The moment your wrists were properly tied, he placed his knees on either side of you, rising up to hook the length of rope to the hook set into the wall. But that put something else within reach of your mouth, and all the grinding he’d done against the bed had managed to drag his soaked sweats down just far enough to expose his cock. He was already half-hard again, the head slick and dripping, flushed dark and tempting. 

In that moment, you needed to taste it. 

The noise he made as you darted your head forward and took the tip of him into your mouth was inhuman, one part choked gasp and one part snarl. You suckled at the broad head eagerly, rapid little licks of your tongue against his slit to draw out more of the precum leaking steadily into your mouth, trying to get as much as you could before he could stop you. He wound up hunched over the top of you, one hand braced against the wall, the other fisted in your hair to hold you against him. And the harder you sucked, the more his rough growls and snarls shifted into high moans and soft little whines, his hips bucking instinctively, helplessly forward, pressing his cock deeper into the warm, welcoming wet heat of your mouth. Even those powerful thighs of his started to shake.

If you did this right, he’d come in no time at all. 

But it was the creak of the ropes as you instinctively reached for him that seemed to snap him out of it. 

Just like that, your head was wrenched back by his hand in your hair, his cock sliding free from your lips with a wet pop, saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth, and down onto your chest as you stared blearily up at him. Chest heaving, dark eyes burning, he slowly leaned down until his lips hovered mere millimeters from yours. But even though his lips hadn’t made contact, his beard did, the faintest brush of bristling hairs tickling against your overheated skin until you couldn’t help but moan. 

“And this,” he grit out, “is why you’re being tied: because you can’t keep your hands or your mouth to yourself.”  

“I’m sorry,” you whined, trying to nuzzle at him in apology. He dodged your mouth, his hand tightening in your hair in warning. This time, at least, you listened, rolling your head back into his touch, trying to make up for what you’d done, submit like he wanted. “I’m sorry, Matt. I just wanted a taste, I needed you so bad.” 

“If you’d asked like a good girl, maybe I’d have given it to you. Now you’re going to have to make it up to me.” He abruptly let go of your hair, climbing back down your body, ignoring the way you thrashed and twisted. Once he was back in place, he roughly shoved your thighs apart, dropping back down between your legs like he belonged there, claiming that space for himself. “Do I need to beg?” you choked out, practically shaking when he caught the thin, delicate skin of your inner thigh between his teeth, sucking hard. He lingered there for a long moment as you moaned and yanked desperately on the ropes, but it was no use. He was in control, not you, and you knew he wouldn’t let go until he’d left his mark, claiming this part of your body that belonged to only him. But what you weren’t expecting was for him to let go… and then tip his head, sliding his cheek, and his beard along the newly sensitive skin. The burn of it sent you soaring, your cunt clenching around nothing, your back arching as you tried to offer your core up to his mouth. “I’ll beg! God, I will, Matt, just—” “I don’t need you to beg,” he growled, his lips curling until he’d bared his teeth. “I need you to scream.” 

Then his mouth latched onto your cunt again, relentless and inescapable no matter how much you writhed. It was torture, madness of the best kind, and it wasn’t long before something in your mind began to unravel, drawn right down out of your body and into his mouth to be swallowed down the Devil's greedy throat.

Things… got a little blurry after that. 

There was no tracking the time, not when one orgasm melded into the next, minutes and hours falling away beneath the merciless lap of Matt’s skilled tongue, the brutal curl of his thick fingers, the rough scrape of his beard against your thighs and cunt until everything burned with pleasure and pain that turned the edges of your vision a fractured white. There was no outside world, no thought left in your mind but his name, nothing but the mountains he dragged your increasingly exhausted body up, and the swift fall when he mercilessly shoved you over the edge, over and over and over until you were ready to lose your mind.

“Matt!” you sobbed, wrenching hard at the ropes binding your wrists. It didn’t make one bit of difference, the rope firm and unyielding where you were bound. Down between your legs, Matt slurped hungrily, drunkenly at your cunt, his face and throat drenched with your slick, a wide puddle on the towel beneath the place where his mouth connected to your body. The burn of his beard was almost unbearable now, but you didn’t know what to do about it. You weren’t even sure he could hear you at this point, his eyes glazed over and glassy, the broad laps at your slit and clit so instinctive and clumsy that you were half convinced he was lost in the same place you were, drunk off the taste of your pussy, off your repeated orgasms and pheromones that he’d been drenched in. 

Another finger joined the three he already had buried deep inside you. He’d been at this so long that your body parted for him with little issue, and god, god, you were so goddamn full, so trapped in the haze that all you could do was choke out another sob as all four of his fingertips rubbed firmly at that spot inside you. You were too tired even to close your legs around his head, but you could feel it—that final orgasm curling hot and inescapable inside you, so close now you could taste the fractured shards of it, tears streaming down your cheeks as your eyes snapped shut.  

“I think maybe you earned that taste you wanted,” he slurred, kissing lovingly at your clit like he might a lover, his lips parted just far enough to let his tongue brush against you. And god, it almost hurt, it hurt, your body so far beyond oversensitivity that even that light touch hit you like a bolt of lightning, your body jolting. “Not that you can answer me now. Or can you?”

All you could give him was a mindless whine. 

He chuckled, working his free hand down beneath himself as he lifted his hips. His mouth dropped open a moment later, face going slack against your cunt before he moaned loudly, his shoulder shifting rhythmically beneath your thigh, his eyes rolling shut. Was he—

He drew his hand up a moment later with a purr, his fingers now smeared and sticky with both your wetness and his, glistening softly in the low light. “What do you say, sweetheart? Would you like a taste? Because I would.”

You whimpered, tugging mindlessly at the ropes, and you—yes, yes, but your tongue couldn’t seem to quite form the word yes, because he still had the fingers of his other hand buried inside you, rubbing steadily at the spot that made you see stars. God, please, the mere thought of tasting your combined flavors on your tongue had you almost mad, your body a hairs-breadth away from coming. All you needed was a nudge—a brush of him at your clit, the taste of him on your tongue, and you’d tip over the edge. 

He clearly knew it, too. And you thought-you’d thought he would be offering his hand as he dipped back down to your cunt, but instead, he pulled his soaked fingers free from you with a sigh. Your cry was a broken thing, something thick with grief at feeling so empty when you were so close, more tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Shh, you’re alright, sweetheart, don't cry,” he crooned gently, hushing you as he crawled up over your body, nuzzling at your sweat-soaked skin. “Don’t worry. It’s only for a second. I won’t leave you empty. I promise. Almost done. Almost there. One more for me. You’re going to give me one more, honey.” But how, when you were so empty, when you didn’t have his mouth or his fingers, lost and—

He groaned as he began to slide his thick cock inside you. You’d been stretched so open by his fingers, by all of your orgasms over the past few hours, that he entered you with a delicious ease. The sloppy, wet squelch of his cock as he slid inside you would have made your cheeks burn if you’d had any sense left. 

“Shit,” he moaned, one hand braced beside your head, fisting in the sheets. One rock of his hips and he was buried as deep as he could reach, your cunt clenching around him as if it were trying to keep him there. You were too exhausted to lift your legs and lock them around his hips. All you could do was gasp and accept him, your eyes rolled back as you hovered on the edge. “Nn, there you go, sweetheart. There we go. Nice and-and full. Hold on just a little longer for me. Open your mouth, honey.” 

You parted your lips instantly, long past resisting, long past thinking. 

His fingers stroked gently against your tongue a moment later, allowing you to take in the combined musky taste of yourself, the bitter richness of his cock, and how it mingled and melded with the taste of his skin.

“Suck for me like a good girl,” he murmured, his other hand rising to wipe away a few of your tears. Once that was done, he settled his hand around your throat, as if he wanted to feel it when you swallowed. “Go on, sweetheart. You can have it.” 

You curled your tongue around his fingers, drawing them deep into your mouth with a grateful moan. The explosion of it across your tongue as you swallowed, the sheer obscenity of it, made you choke out a broken cry. His fingers were yanked back a moment later only to be replaced by his tongue snaking lazily into your open mouth, blatantly chasing your paired tastes with a filthy moan. All of it rolled up over you at once—his cock sliding up against that spot inside you, the whisper of pressure around your throat as his massive hand closed around it, the angle of his hips that let his body grind against your clit, the paired taste of you both filling your mouth as his tongue curled against yours, but… 

It was the harsh scrape of his beard against your skin that pushed you over the edge. 

Later, you wouldn’t remember the noise you made as you came, your body seizing as your orgasm slammed into you in one sudden rush. Your body went rigid, back bowing off the bed so sharply you felt something pop, your head thrown back as you lost yourself beneath a roaring tide of pleasure. Because this-this wasn’t something you rode, something you swam with, something that swept over you gently. This was something you survived, something you choked beneath, drowned beneath. You barely heard Matt’s shout, didn’t even notice the spreading heat as he came with you in slick pulses of warmth. You heard even less his slurred words of encouragement against your lips as your orgasm lingered in waves that just didn’t end, and you couldn't, you couldn't—

“There you go. Good girl, good girl, so good for me, let it all go sweetheart, I’ve got you, good gi—”

You weren’t quite sure where your mind went, then. But things cut out for a while.

How long you tapped out for was a mystery, the world around you faded into a soft black. All you knew was that when you finally floated back up from that quiet sea, your senses coming back to you one by one, Matt was there, your limp body cradled warmly against his chest. “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, the sounds distant and still a little warped as he rocked you gently. He had to have untied you at some point, you thought blearily, since he was holding you now, his back against the headboard, your head tucked down against his neck. “Come on back, honey. Time to come back for me.”

You made a soft little noise of acknowledgement in your throat, all you really felt capable of at the moment, your eyes fluttering half open.  

“Hi there, sweetheart,” he hummed, nuzzling down warmly against your hair. One of his hands swept steadily up and down your arm, sensation that helped ground you, along with the easy rhythm of his breathing as he held you, the rasp of his skin against yours. “There you are, my good girl. You did so good, honey. Now you’ve got it. Take it slow. Breathe with me."

“Mmm.”

"That works." He huffed a quiet laugh, tipping your slack head back until he could brush his lips against your forehead. Your head lolled against his shoulder, your body feeling a bit like all your bones had just up and wandered off. Maybe Matt had sucked them out of you. “I got eight out of you tonight if you can believe it. A new record.”

“It’s,” you slurred thickly, “the… beard. I love it.” 

“I figured. And now I'm definitely going to keep it.” He nuzzled at you again, lifting one of your hands so he could knead gently at your wrist where you’d been tied. You'd probably have some bruises tomorrow considering how hard you'd yanked at the ties, but you'd wear them with pride. You always did. “And now you get the full aftercare treatment. Water, a snack, maybe a massage and a lot of cuddling before you fall asleep. I almost thought about drawing you a bath, but I’m not quite sure I trust you not to accidentally slide down into the water right now, even with me holding you.”

“...Fair.” You sleepily mashed your face against his throat, drawing the musky scent of sex and his skin deep into your lungs. You were still floating to a certain extent, your body sore and exhausted, but the comfort of his touch, the low rumble of his voice went a long way to soothing you. “Love you. Missed you.” 

“I love you and missed you, too.” He pressed a fond kiss to your wrist, letting out a contented sigh. “Let’s avoid being apart for a while.”

“Agreed.” 

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 22: Aftercare

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Aftercare (🌼✨)

Summary: Matt takes care of you after a particularly rough session.

Warnings: Heavy allusions to smut (18+), mentions of unprotected p in v, mentions of oral sex, aftercare, fluff, light subspace

Word Count: 604

A/n: The next few prompts will come over the next couple of days. I thought I'd get them all done during October, but unfortunately, life got in the way. I'll also start cross-posting on AO3 again once all Fictober fics are out there. So, don't worry, you'll get them, but it will be a few days into November until we're done.

Read Me On AO3! (Coming soon)

You lie bonelessly tangled in silk sheets.

Hours he spent worshipping at the altar between your legs. Hours he spent pounding into you with his cock from behind until he could no longer hold himself up, fucking you deeper into the mattress. At some point, you must have even lost your voice from how the countless orgasms he gave you tore a scream of his name deep from your throat. 

“Here,” Matt murmurs, holding the bottle of cold water to your chapped lips. “Hey. Sweetie, look at me. Stay with me.”

You can barely make out his silhouette in the dark, but even drenched in sweat and with his hair disheveled, he looks like a dream.

“There you go. Hi.” He smiles. “Can you take a sip for me?” Shaky fingers reach for the bottle, and you try to swallow some of the liquid without making a mess. You feel like a child, unable to do anything by herself, but his patience remains unwavering. 

Matt waits until you’ve sufficiently hydrated yourself before gently rolling you back onto your back. He grabs a towel, warm and wet, and starts to wipe the remnants of his cum from your quivering thighs. He’s gentle when he reaches your swollen folds, making sure not to cause you any more discomfort. 

You don’t want to talk—you can’t—and that is fine with him. 

“C’mere.” He wraps a blanket around you. “Do you want me to hold you or would you like to be alone?”

Sometimes, you ask for privacy. Just a few minutes to find back to yourself. Sometimes, you get so overstimulated that even being close to him physically hurts. The things he does to your body are nothing short of unreal, and you don’t always have time to catch up with all the new sensations he manages to pull from you time and time again. 

Tonight thought, you crave him. You crave to be held by him. The words die on your tongue, so you reach out for him instead. 

Matt senses your grabby hands, he could do so from miles away. You’re reaching for him, and it does something to his heart. He slides under the blanket with you, carefully pulling you against his bare chest. “Okay, I’ve got you,” he whispers. “You’re okay.”

You deserve to be taken care of. 

Seconds turn into minutes. His fingers trace invisible patterns on your back. Slowly but steadily, your heartbeat aligns with his. 

“Too much?”

You blink, tilting your head to meet his unfocused hazel eyes; there is always so much guilt, so much uncertainty in them when he can’t quite read you. When he’s scared he might have hurt you. It is a fine line he walks every time he fucks you senseless. 

You manage to weakly shake your head. “It was perfect,” you whisper. 

“Yeah?” He brushes the tip of his thumb along the vein on your temple. 

You smile. “Yeah.”

He loves the way your pulse jumps. The way your heart starts beating faster when he’s around. He loves the sound of your laugh. The smell of your shampoo and perfume. And he loves how you look at him like he’s the only man in the world to you, and he doesn’t have to see to know. 

“I love you,” Matt breathes into the darkness. 

“I love you too,” you say.

Though even without those beautiful three words, he can feel your love in everything you do. In his own way, he sees you, and he could never get tired of the picture his mind has painted of you. 

He could never get tired of you.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @xnatyx @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @zomtart @ethereal-blaze

[devilw-rites]

Overstimulation

Tags: sub!Matt Murdock x mommydom!Reader, Reader is being mean and overstimming Matt, Matt is being a subby little baby about it. (724 words, read it on ao3!)

In the courtroom, Matt Murdock was in complete control. The attention of the jury hung on every word he uttered, every gesture he made. On the surface, he's the epitome of domination. In the isolation of your bedroom, he falls apart for you.

“F-Fuck, please, can't take anymore, mommy,” he hisses through his grit teeth. The sheets are whiteknuckled in his hands as he fights the urge to push you away from him. He'd already cum twice, but you showed no signs of stopping.

With a light pop from your lips, you pull your mouth off of his cock. “Mommy's not done tasting you, sweet boy,” you tease in reply, your hand stroking his already spent cock as you speak. “Can you take a little more for me like a good boy?”

Before Matt can reply, you dip your head back down and stroke your tongue against his frenulum. This sends his hips bucking up, a desperate attempt to limit the overwhelming sensation. You sigh at him and shove his hips down, your fingers leaving light bruises from your grip.

“Ah! I'm sorry, mommy! 'm sorry!” Matt gasps out, terrified that he's pushed too far and might get punished. “I'll be your good boy, promise, I'll take it all.”

You bite your lip to hold back your grin, absolutely in awe at how cute he gets when he's pathetically begging for your forgiveness. You kiss his sticky tip and his cock twitches.

“That's it, there's the obedient boy your mommy loves. Now stay still,” you instruct, and once again, your tongue finds its way against Matt's cock.

It's impossible, of course, for Matt to stay still with how sensitive, and borderline in pain, his cock was from your endless torture. You settle for keeping his hips pinned against the mattress as your tongue travels down to his balls. A pathetic whimper rips out of his throat when you roll them around on your tongue, his cock twitching uncontrollable against your face.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck I can't, 'm gonna cum, Mommy please–” Matt cries out. His entire upper body is shaking from the strength it's taking to keep his hands to himself.

You hum in acknowledgement. Pulling away just long enough to lick the spit from your lips, your mouth quickly finds it way back around your sweet boy's cock. It throbs against your tongue as you bob your head up and down, humming ever so frequently in the way you know he likes.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck, cumming, I'm cumming, fuck please I can't– fuck!” Matt's entire body jolts with a moan, curling in on himself. His hands fly to your hair as he pushes you down and his cock twitches in your mouth. He's whimpering and whining through his entire orgasm. It's dry, only a little dribble of cum spurting its way down your throat.

You give a few final licks to Matt's cock, the poor man so spent he can barely muster a few shivers in response. When you finally let it fall from your mouth, it lands in a big, wet mess on his tummy, quickly going soft.

“You did so good, baby, you were perfect, such a good boy for your mommy. Are you okay? How's my angel doing?” You immediately begin doting on him, helping him stretch back up from his curled position and rubbing the–no doubt sore–muscles in his arms.

Matt takes a minute to clear his throat, a croaky cough coming out before he speaks. “I'm okay, mommy, promise,” he slurs out. His eyelids are droopy and his eyes cloudy with subspace.

“Aww, that's good!” You coo at him. You push back his ruffled hair and kiss his forehead. “Not too much?”

He grins and shakes his head, “No, it was perfect. Thank you for making me feel so good, mommy.”

If your heart wasn't already exploding and your brain melting, it certainly was now. You hold one of his hands in yours and give it about a million squeezes.

“How about we get you cleaned up? We can listen to that podcast you're going crazy over,” you offer to him.

“Yes, please,” he hums, slowly sitting up with your help. He holds onto you tightly as he stands, and the two of you go to the bathroom for showers and murder mysteries.

[lovelybucky1]

The Devil That You Know (Matt Murdock x Reader)

gif by @kamillahn

divider by @maysdigitalarts

warnings: sub!matt, dom!reader, blood, mentions of violence, afab!reader (no pronouns), reader receiving oral sex, hair pulling, slight nipple play, subspace, angst, unprotected sex, friends with benefits with feelings, fluff, 18+ minors dni

masterlist

You can’t say you weren’t expecting Matt to knock on your door. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have still been awake, fully dressed, and the wine on the table untouched. You weren’t, however, expecting The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen to show up at your door, bloody, bruised, and dripping from the rain.

“Jesus, Matt, you look like shit,” you say, taking his mask from him as he steps through your doorway.

“Feel like it, too,” he replies, but his tone is hollow, lacking his usual charm.

You step in front of him, taking his face in your hands and tilting it to either side, checking for serious damage. Other than a few cuts, a bruise on his jaw, and the beginnings of a black eye, he seems fine.

“Tell me what hurts,” you say, using a firm voice that leaves no room for argument. That is Matt’s specialty, after all.

“Everything. All of it hurts.”

He sinks into your touch and lets his eyed fall closed. The tense furrow of his brows, the hard set of his jaw, and the way he chews the skin of his lower lip tell you everything you need to know. Matt’s physical pain is overshadowed by the mental.

He gets this way sometimes; the fights get to him. He’s doing the right thing, he knows it, but when he wakes up every day with a new pain, when his nighttime activities bleed into the day, when he has to lie to the people he loves to protect them, the lines between The Devil and Matt Murdock become too blurred for him to differentiate between them.

“What do you need from me, Matt?” you ask, this time in a softer voice.

“I…” he starts, but he stops himself before anything of substance could come out. He knows what he needs, but he feels so guilty for asking it of you. Your relationship is complicated; he cares for you deeply, it’s almost love, but neither of you have ever put a name to it. You don’t owe him comfort, hell, he probably deserves to get beaten even more for showing up out of the blue like this.

“Matt,” you say, regaining his attention. “Talk to me.”

“I… I need you to take me out of my head,” he says so quietly that it sounds like it was a confession meant for only God to hear. “I don’t want to be Matt Murdock right now, I don’t want to be Daredevil. I-I wanna be yours.”

You angle his face down towards yours and his eyes dart around, trying to locate you to simulate some sort of eye contact.

“Are you absolutely sure? I can clean you up and we can go to bed instead,” you say, offering him a way out in case he changes his mind.

“No, I-I mean yes, I’m sure I want it. I need you to… think for me, just for a little bit.”

You hate seeing him like this: defeated, broken, lost. He’s a warrior, and for him to come to someone like you, someone without any skills or idea of what he’s going through, for guidance tells you just how bad he’s hurting.

You brush your fingers over his bottom lip, wiping away a few drops of tacky blood before gently kissing him. He barely kisses back, letting you take complete control over it. He melts into you as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper. Quiet whimpers escape his lips and you greedily swallow the sounds.

Normally, submission isn’t something Matt easily gives up, not without a fight, but when he’s like this, all he wants is to silence the constant noise in his brain and give you the reins.

You break the kiss, but he doesn’t try to chase your lips. He doesn’t want to take anything, he only wants to accept what you give him.

“Let’s get you out of that suit, baby,” you say as you gently turn him around by his shoulders. He stands completely still, back straight and head down before you. You drag the zipper down, following the path of his spine until it reaches the end. He wordlessly pulls the top off and hands it to you. You leave him to remove his boots and pants, then you hand all the pieces over the chairs in your dining room to dry.

When you return, you’re met with the sight of Matt’s pale back, littered with scars, and tight black boxer-briefs. You turn him around again, taking in the sight of him, bare from the waist up aside for his cross necklace, then hook your finger into the waistband of his underwear.

“Do you want these on or off, Matt?”

“Off, ‘s too much on my skin,” he says, his words uncharacteristically jumbled, which tells you just how bad he needs this.

You gently pull his boxer-briefs down his thighs and he steps out of them. Before you could, he reaches down and picks them up. He adds them to the pile of clothes on the table, and his quiet obediences makes you smile.

You lead him to the living room where there is a soft, plush carpet that won’t irritate his knees. You instruct him to kneel, and you sit next to him on the couch.

You brush your hand through his damp hair. You’re not sure if it’s from sweat or rain, but it’s not blood, so you don’t mind. You scratch his scalp and gently tug on the strands, making him preen like an animal being pet. You find it endearing how sensitive he is to your every touch.

“You’re so pretty, Matt. You have the most gorgeous eyes. Your lips, too, they’re so pink. You know, you almost made me believe in love at first sight?” He gently shakes his head. “I swear, when I saw you, I thought an angel walked in. Then I figured an angel probably wouldn’t forget to shave,” you chuckle as you stroke your hand over his scuff that will probably be the start of a beard by morning. Maybe you’ll shave it for him.

“You said you want to be out of your head, right?” He nods. “I’m gonna have you eat me out, how does that sound?”

“Green,” he says simply.

You stand up and take off your pants, tossing them somewhere behind the couch. You have to remind yourself to pick them up later so Matt doesn’t trip on them.

You sit back down, this time on the edge of the cushion, and lean back. You guide Matt’s head forward, leading him to your pussy. His nose bumps your clit, and you jump in surprise. He freezes, taking your sudden movement as a signal to stop, but you reassure him, so he continues.

Matt starts with gentle licks and kisses, using his lips and the tip of his tongue to warm you up. After a bit of subconscious teasing, he switches to wide swipes of his tongue over your entrance, greedily taking in the familiar taste of you that always makes his head spin.

This is his favorite type of submission. He doesn’t have to think about it, pleasuring you comes naturally to him. It makes him feel important, whole, because with as much good as he does, he also causes a lot of pain. It gives him a sort of balance to give you this selfless pleasure.

His hands tentatively find your thighs, and he gently grasps them like he’s afraid you’ll slap his hands away and punish him for touching without permission. You don’t, instead, you cover his right hand with yours and rubs it soothingly while the other one slides into his hair.

You surround Matt. Your familiar, comforting scent fills his nose, he hears the soft beating of your heart and your occasional hitched breath. He tastes your pleasure and feels the heat from your skin thawing his chill from the rain. His worries melt away and he feels heavy with exhaustion. If he wasn’t busy licking you, he could fall asleep with his head in your lap.

“You’re so good for me, Matty, so perfect,” you praise, knowing how much he needs reassurance when he’s like this.

His fingers curl softly into the meat of your thighs, almost as if he needs to keep himself connected with reality. You’re more than happy to be the thing that grounds him.

You tug on his hair, wordlessly encouraging him to give you more. His tongue works it’s way down from your clit to your hole, circling it before pushing inside. His nose rubs against your pussy as he fucks you with his tongue. A mixture of spit and slick soak his facial hair and drip down his chin. You suppose there was no point in drying him off when he was just going to get wet again.

With each flick of his tongue inside you, you feel yourself being brought closer to the edge. Under normal circumstances, Matt would be able to sense your impending orgasm, but with his mind fuzzy and distracted, it sneaks up on him. With a bitten off cry and a sharp tug if his hair, you cum. You grind your pussy against his face as you ride out your orgasm, and like a good boy, he sits still and takes what you give him.

Once you come down from your high, you release your hold on his hair and he sits back on his heels. He doesn’t wipe his mouth, clearly waiting for your permission. His face glistens with your cum, and you wish you had a camera to memorialize this moment for the rest of your life.

“You did so good, baby, you gave me exactly what I wanted. How do you feel?” you ask, checking in with him.

“Need more,” he says in a far-away sounding voice.

With a soft smile that he can’t see, you gently guide Matt onto the couch and push him back so he is laying his head on the arm of the couch. His cock lays hard against his stomach, the tip red and leaking from being neglected.

You hate to tease him when he is so desperate like this, but you can’t help yourself. You drag your fingernails across his abdomen, over the bruises and the trail of hair. His back arches and a small whimper escapes his mouth. He’s so sensitive, especially on his stomach, and you love to take advantage of it.

Once you’ve decided he has writhed under your touch long enough, you mercifully grab ahold of his cock and give it a few stokes as you position yourself on top of his thighs. Before he could ask, you grab his wrists and place his hands on your hips.

“Please, please,” he chants, but you shush him.

“You don’t have to beg, Matty.”

You slowly sink down on his cock, giving yourself time to adjust to the stretch. You watch his face as you go; his eyebrows knit in pleasure as he finally gets the relief he’s been craving.

Once he is fully seated inside you, you slowly roll your hips, giving him just enough friction to keep the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes at bay. His mouth is open and you can hear his heavy breaths as you fuck him.

You busy yourself with tracing your hands over his chest, finding each scar, mole, freckle, and blemish on his beautiful skin. You flick your thumbs over his nipples, and a high whine escapes Matt’s mouth.

You begin to increase your speed, and as you do, Matt’s fingers press further into your hips like he’s trying to keep his composure.

“Relax, Matt, I’ll take care of you. You can cum whenever you need to, baby,” you say in a gentle voice.

His grip relaxes a bit and you can see the tension melt from his shoulders. He’s always so focused on pleasing you that it’s hard for him to be selfish sometimes. His head pushes further into the plush arm of your couch and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Please God, forgive me,” he says in a broken voice between moans.

“Hey,” you say, grabbing his chin to get his attention. “There’s no God here, Matt. You can confess later, but whatever you did tonight, I don’t care. It doesn’t make a difference to me. You’ll always be my good boy, no matter what.”

Your words comfort him, or at least they stop his spiral into guilt. You release your hold on his chin and cradle his face in your hands as you ride him faster. The drag of his cock inside of you makes your toes curl, but you’re focusing intently on Matt. You can cum afterwards, right now, this is about him.

Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, and he takes it into his mouth instinctively, sucking on it gently like he did to your pussy.

“Such a good boy,” you say, your voice shaky as you near your second orgasm.

Matt moans around your thumb at the praise and you notice the red, splotchy flush that covers his neck and chest. If the way his hips are twitching under yours is anything to go by, he’s close.

You rock your hips faster and reach behind you to massage his balls the way you know makes him weak. He chokes on a moan, and not even a second later, he is spilling inside of you. You slow your pace as you ride him through it, and to him it seems like he is being torturously milked for an eternity. Once his orgasm finally passes, his entire body goes limp and his mouth hangs open, allowing you to slip your fingers out.

His chest quickly rises and falls with his panting breaths that almost seem to mimic yours. You lift yourself off of his spent cock and move to lay on top of him, being careful not to put too much weight on any of his injuries.

Once you’re laid comfortably on top of him, his arms wrap around your middle and he holds you tightly, like he would lose you if he let go. He tucks his face into the crook of your neck and inhales your scent, relishing in the feeling of being of being drunk off you.

You twirl his hair around your finger, which has dried since he came in from the rain. It sticks up messily in all directions, but it makes him look soft, nearly domestic, if they Devil of Hell’s Kitchen could be described as such.

“Thank you,” he whispers, breaking the silence in your apartment.

“Of course, baby. Do you feel better?”

He gives you an affirmative hum and pulls you closer, snuggling into your side. His eyes fall closed and his breathing slows as he drifts off to sleep. He’s quiet, so exhausted that there’s not a dream or a nightmare playing in his mind. He’s safe, protected in your arms, at least for tonight.

You could love him like this.

[wannabevampire]

Dust to Dust.

˚✧₊⁎♡˚✧₊⁎˳ by allie! (wannabevampire)

check out the ashes to ashes, dust to dust. moodboard! click here!! <- ♡

read part one first <3 ~ashes to ashes. <- click me!!♡

☆18+ NO MINORS.☆ also, no copying to other sights. period.

pairings : matt murdock x druig x reader (m/m/f)

☆mean-dom!matt (and soft-dom!matt)

☆sub!reader (she has her switch moments!)

☆switch!druig (he is submissive as fuck in this here!)

summary: druig humiliated you. revenge is sweet.

warnings: dark!!!! pet names because matthew is a menace, overstimulation, sex, death threats <3, degradation & humiliation, smoking & cigarettes, choking & slapping (no directed @ you), protective Matty!!, soft!dark Matt Murdock, bondage (not on you), blasphemy and religious symbolism, voyeurism & exhibitionism, dirty talk, masochism & sadism, (Matt calls Druig puppy but there’s no pet play or anything like that.), dumbification, knife play, blood, (talk of murder and gore, but it doesn’t actually happen. not directed towards reader!) hurt/comfort but like in a deeply fucked up way? this is dark but everything is consensual. subspace (you & druig 😵‍💫), tagging dubcon for druig just in case. please let me know if i missed anything!

note: thank you for 1.2k tumblr followers <3 you guys means the world to me! i’m always here for you, and i’m always down to make new friends! (and flirt with random ppl on the internet! shameless self plug, go follow my nsfw account @futurevamp1r3 !! 😵‍💫)

!this is a dark fic! however it is not dark or violent towards you directly. matt is very soft with you! it’s still pretty fucked though o_0

☆~i spent a lot of time on this! hope you enjoy :]

♡~just a lil fic from your fave degradation princess! <3 (allie!)

…

Tuesday.

12:08 pm

ring…

You bounced your leg up and down nervously.

‘shit. was this a bad idea?’

ring…

You brought your hand to mouth, your fingers fidgeting against your lips as you mindlessly tried to distract yourself from what you were about to do.

‘would he even remember you? what if he was being sarcastic and you just didn’t pick up on it?’

ring…

You glanced nervously at the clock, not that it mattered in the slightest what time it was. Merely a desperate attempt to convince yourself that what you were doing was completely normal every day business that should be accompanied by completely normal every day behavior!

‘fuck. would this even be worth it? maybe you should just hang up, back out now before it was too late.’

ring…

Yup! This was a ridiculous idea, it would never work and would most likely leave you humiliated and hurt. It would be in your best interest to just move on.

You began to lower the phone from your ear, aiming to hang up as soon as possible and block his number. Hopefully he would just forget-

*click!*

son of a bitch.

“Pretty girl, I was wondering when you’d call.”

fuck.

You felt your breath hitch.

It was honestly kind of pathetic how quickly he managed to make your knees weak and brain fuzzy.

All he’d done was mutter a few choice words in that stupidly attractive voice of his and you were fully prepared to get on your knees and beg for him.

“Matthew! Hi! Gosh it’s been so long how have you been? I um just wanted to…”

You were cut off by a low chuckle.

“Sweetheart, let’s take it easy on the formalities. I assume you want something or you wouldn’t be calling…”

You felt like a deer in headlights. How this man managed to read you like a book while he was presumably hundreds of miles a way was a mystery to you.

He hummed lowly. The sound reverberating through your skull as you inhaled deeply, reveling in the noise and the images you associated it with.

The taste of blood. The smell of smoke and cinnamon. Red scratch marks decorating your back. The ringing sensation in your ears as he overstimulated you to the point of tears. The sound of his-

“I can hear the gears in your brain turning. Spit it out darling we haven’t got all day.”

You exhaled anxiously.

‘Well, here goes nothing.’

“I think I’m ready to call in that favor.”

He laughed knowingly.

Matt had known exactly why you were calling the second he picked up and heard your heart racing. The beat echoing through his skull, a reminder of how much he’d missed the painfully beautiful sound that was your beating heart.

“I thought you’d never ask pretty girl.”

Your breath hitched at his response.

He waited in comfortable silence as you gathered your thoughts. You brought your hand to your neck attempting to ground yourself enough to form a response. Your finger tips brushing lightly across your skin as you searched for the ghost of Druig’s touch.

You clenched your fists as you recalled his smug face a cruel grin.

Bastard.

But no matter how degrading it had felt. No matter how angry it made you. No matter how shamefully turned on you were by his actions. You would not let Druig win.

If he wanted to play dirty then that’s what he’d get.

“Wanna fuck me in front of Druig and humiliate him till he’s crying?”

There was a tense pause. Though if the tension stemmed from apprehension or sexual attraction you couldn’t say. You simply waiting anxiously for his verdict.

When he spoke next you could hear him smiling on the other end and felt the arousal rolling off him in waves as four glorious words left his mouth.

“When do we start?”

˚✧₊⁎♡˚✧₊⁎˳

Thursday.

9:18 pm

The masochistic sting of smoke flowed down your throat as you took a drag from the cigarette held between you fingers. Tilting your head toward the heavens, you exhaled. Letting the sweet smoke tumble past your lips smoothly.

Leave it to Matt to smoke cloves. Not that you were complaining! In fact, you were filled to the brim with excitement at the prospect of kissing him and tasting the spiced smokey taste left on his lips. Plus they tasted quite nice and for some reason the hint of spices helped keep you warm on the cold evening.

Your mind was pulled from its place in the clouds when a deliberate cough from the man in front of you sounded in your ears.

He smirked and cocked his head, giving you a knowing look. The cigarette placed casually between his fingers was lifted to his lips and he took a long slow drag before pushing off against the wall and stalking towards you. As Matt approached, you could feel the energy radiating off of him. His demeanor was dark and filled with lust. You Straightened your back and tilted your chin up, pushing down the urge to shy away. An action that did not go unnoticed by the man as he came to a stop, barely a foot away from you.

He strained his neck back, mimicking the movement you’d made moments earlier. Smooth smoke filled the air above you as he exhaled.

Turning his attention back to you the man brought his hand to your cheek, cupping it affectionately. You nuzzled into his touch, feeling flustered by his sudden act of intimacy.

He offered a genuine smile and spoke.

“Look at you. Such a good girl, doing all that without me even asking.”

He observed, his voice low.

Your lips tipped upwards at his praise and nuzzled further into his touch.

“Are you this obedient with him too?”

He whispered. There was a certain possessive edge to his voice as he brought up Druig.

“No. Only you.”

You answered honestly.

With Druig everything felt like a competition. You felt a compulsive urge to prove yourself whenever you were around him.

With him it was different. This was a game of cat and mouse. He’d set the trap and you’d crawled right in fully knowing the consequences.

“That’s my girl.”

He hummed, moving his thumb to stroke absentmindedly across your cheek.

Matt tilted his head down so his face was level with yours. Your lips nearly touching at the close proximity. The ghost of a kiss lay tense between the two of you. You were surrounded by him, your senses filled with smoke and cinnamon as you willed yourself not crash your lips against his.

You’d kiss him for as long as he’d let you. You’d kiss him until you were breathless and light headed and even that wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would ever be enough when it came to him.

Even now, after all these years, you could still taste him. You licked your lips in remembrance, Matt smiled, instantly recognizing your movement.

“Miss me?”

“Murdock, you have no idea.”

“Don’t I?”

You paused, seemingly lost in thought as you stared at his lips.

“Kiss me?”

Your voice was practically a whisper.

He smiled, soft and sweet. His lips a stark contrast to almost everything else about him

“Not yet, need him to see it. Want that bastard to know who’s making you like this. Need him to see how fucking wrecked you are for me.”

You inhaled sharply at his words, feeling rather defensive of your current (only slightly disheveled) state.

“I’m not that wrecked…”

You replied. Your voice, though still a whisper, filled with a bit of venom as you attempted to justify yourself.

“Sweetheart I can fucking feel how desperate you are, don’t need to look at you.”

You grumbled incoherently and attempted to tilt your head down, he quickly caught your chin between his fingers. And maneuvered your face back to it’s previous position, leaving no opportunity for you to shy away from him.

“I already know what I’m working with. Him on the other hand…he needs to see you like this. And I’m going to make sure he knows that he will never, ever, be the one to have this effect on you.”

˚✧₊⁎♡˚✧₊⁎˳

Friday.

12:00 pm

“Okay let’s go over the plan one more time before I call him.”

You said breathily as you passed around Matt’s office. He was leaning on his desk, tracking your movement. He had an amused look on his face.

“Last time.”

He said definitively. His tone leaving no room for argument. No matter if you had meant it figuratively. Last time. And then the you’d take action.

You halted your movement and turned to him, taking a deep breath.

“Okay. So. Step one…”

“You call Druig, I’ll be here for moral support but won’t say anything.”

“Right. And I’ve got his phone number right here, shouldn’t have any problems reaching him.”

You replied.

“Step two…”

You proceeded.

“Flirt your pretty little heart out.”

Matt continued with a grin. Though you were pretty sure you sensed a bit of jealousy hidden in his smile.

“Yes. Flirt like my life depends on it! I need to seem…desperate. He will be more likely to give in that way!”

You rattled off.

“Well that shouldn’t be too hard. Being desperate comes so naturally to you.”

He said, you were pretty sure you could see the mischievous glint in his eyes shining through his glasses. His tone emphasized the fact that he was being ~slightly~ sarcastic. I mean he wasn’t…completely wrong. But you weren’t going to let him know that.

You scowled at him and resumed your pacing.

“Okay 3, 4, whatever. I make plans to meet up with him tonight. We pretend to runs into you. We…flirt and stuff…seduce him? is that the right word?”

“Yeah. We could also say manipulate?”

He deadpanned.

“Um okay, let’s not. We get to the room…and you take it from there! With your super secret ‘i gotta do it in the moment’ plan that I’m not allowed to know about.”

You huffed indignantly.

“C’mon what kind of gentleman would I be if I went around ruining surprises. You love it.”

You just glanced at him wearily.

“Okay sweetheart. No time like the present.”

He sighed and pushed off the desk, pulling out his phone and handing it to you. You punched in the digits of his phone number.

You hesitated, your finger hovering over the call button.

Sensing your uneasiness Matt brought his hand to your cheek, stroking your skin soothingly. You hummed, relaxing into his touch.

*Beep.*

Your eyes snapped open moments after he pressed the button.

“Sorry sweetheart, last time. Remember? You promised.”

He whispered lowly in your ear, rushing before Druig inevitably answered your call. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave your hand a small squeeze of encouragement.

Because no matter how much he teased you, he knew this was hard. You tried to deny your feelings and the fact that Druig broke you a little, but he saw through it. You deserved better. He was going to make sure you knew that.

*Click!*

You inhaled sharply.

“Back already angel? This is fast, even for you. How’s my favorite toy doing?”

Druig’s voice filled the room.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

And Matt tried very hard not to track Druig down immediately and beat him till he was bloody and broken.

There would be plenty of time for that later.

˚✧₊⁎♡˚✧₊⁎˳

friday.

5:58 pm

“He’s late.”

Matt huffed from his seat next to you.

“Yeah by three minutes, he’ll be here don’t worry.”

You replied, taking a sip from your ginger ale. The two of you had opted not to drink any alcohol before hand.

Matt mumbled something under his breath that you couldn’t hear. But before you could press him further Matt lifted his head and turned his attention to the door. You followed his gaze, it was closed.

“Matthew please just-”

You began, exasperated at his behavior.

“Shh just, he’s gonna open the door in 4 seconds.”

Matt quieted you and you rolled his eyes.

‘Stupidly beautiful intuitive man.’

True to his word the door swung open. The hinges creaking softly. He walked forward and the old floor boards groaned in protest as his boots hit the surface. Matt stiffened next to you as he tracked Druig’s foot steps.

You tried your very best not to react, staring intently at the condensation gathered on tumblr filled with ginger ale and ice cubes that were beginning to melt.

The footsteps paused, just a few paces away from you. A trick Druig often pulled. Allowing himself to be near to you, but forcing you to be the one to close the gap. You came to him, always.

You closed your eyes.

‘Just stick to the plan, act the way he wants you to behave and everything will turn out okay.’

You turned.

“Hello Druig.”

“Hello toy.”

Jesus christ.

˚✧₊⁎♡˚✧₊⁎˳

6:35 pm

Leather.

That’s the first thing Druig was able to focus on. It was rubbing against his skin. Though not nearly tight enough to irritate the surface of his wrists.

Wait, wrists?

The belt securely fastened around his wrists, ensuring that they wouldn’t move, was a new edition. One that he could not remember happening.

The next thing Druig narrowed in on was a scent.

Cinnamon and smoke.

It was familiar though he couldn’t place where from. The smell of it alone made him twist anxiously, trying to escape the warm feeling of arousal flowing through his body.

Sound came next. Laughter. Your laughter.

He always loved the way you sounded. Though most of the noises you made around him consisted of whimpers and moans, he was occasionally granted a bit of laughter. A sound he secretly cherished. A sound he held close on sleepless nights and lonely days.

Wait.

Your laughter. Spiced smoke. A black leather belt that didn’t belong to him and most certainly did not belong to you. The man at the bar who had been pretending not to be listening to your conversation-

Realizations flooded his brain as he began to piece together information.

Matt Murdock.

Fuck.

˚✧₊⁎♡˚✧₊⁎˳

8:08 pm

Matt felt it. 

Or, almost felt it.

A warm tingling sensation creeping up behind him. Nearing the nape of his neck, it began it’s attempt at clawing its way inside his mind. He smirked as all his senses reacted at once, perhaps a younger less experienced Matt would be scared shitless at the prospect of ‘brainwashing’. But he had long since crossed that bridge. 

He turned around slowly, casually walking up to where Druig was sprawled on the floor. His senses pushing away the mans attempts at controlling his mind. Matt’s heightened abilities shielding himself from Druig’s actions.

Druig began to panic. Matt could sense his heart beating rapidly, he could hear him fumbling around and pulling against the belt binding his wrists together. The Devil made no move to speed up, keeping the same tantalizingly slow pace as he approached him. 

Across the room you clenched your thighs together and held back a whimper as you watched Matt walk towards where Druig was kneeling on the floor.

The clunk of his boots sounded through the room before coming to a stop right in front of him. Silence filled the space, the only noises audible to you and Druig being the quick breaths he drew in anxiously as he stared up at Matt. Who seemed to be deep in though, debating what to do with the eternal in front of him.

Matt felt the tingling sensation fade, the unsettling warmth retreating shamefully back to Druig.

Matt knelt in front of him, coming face to face with what he sensed to be an extraordinarily defeated expression. 

“Oh how cute...You’re not the only one with some tricks up your sleeve. Mind games won’t work on me.”

His words were taunting and methodical, his voice low.

Matt pulled a knife from his belt, twirling it in the air before catching it with ease. Rolling it over in his hand, allowing himself to drink in the the worn material of its handle. His finger tips carefully avoiding the blade which glimmered dangerously in the soft lighting. 

He brought the tip of his knife to Druig’s chin, tilting his head upward. The action had nothing to do eye contact or appearance. It was about Matt showing Druig just how much power he had over him. “God-like” powers or not... 

The devil was in charge.

Matt twisted the knife slightly, causing Druig to move his head again. He locked eyes with you.

You’d never seen Druig look this…helpless? Submissive? Pathetic?

His eyes were wide and he was breathing heavily.

(Note to self add “wrecking Druig using nothing but his words and a head tilt” to list of things you had to thank Matt for.)

Your body betrayed you as you felt the rush of arousal flow through your body. You fidgeted in a desperate attempt to hide how turned on you were. Though judging by the way Matt’s smirk had widened, he had already noticed and was loving every second of it.

“If you even think about playing with her mind I will fucking kill you. You don’t want to give me a reason to hurt you. Because trust me puppy, I’m looking forward to seeing you in pain. Guess you’ll just have to decide what kind you’d like best. The one that makes you cry from pain, or the one that makes you cry from pleasure. Though when I’m done with you, it might be hard for your dumb fucking brain to tell the difference.”

Druig’s expression was priceless. His eyes were open comically wide, lips parted in shock, a light dusting of pink covering his cheeks and nose. Fear etched onto his face along with another emotion you couldn’t place. That is...until you heard Matt’s laugh. The muscles in his jaw flexing as he tilted his head back.

That’s when it hit you.

Arousal.

Druig was getting all hot and bothered at the prospect of Matt fucking Murdock hurting him.

What a slut.

You thought to yourself humorously as you watched Druig blink his eyes rapidly and lower his head, attempting desperately to hide his expression.

˚✧₊⁎♡˚✧₊⁎˳

Later... (Matt had a tendency to render you time-blind when he fucked you.)

“I’m..Oh my- Matt please!”

You were barely coherent. Your brain felt brain fuzzy and your eyes glassy with tears.

“Shh shh it’s okay sweetheart I know, I know.”

He assured you. The words coming to him as though the were second nature. Like mocking you and fucking you simultaneously was his one true calling in life.

“Please don’t stop. Never stop, please Matty you’re so good-”

Yours begs sounded foreign to you. You felt yourself slip completely. The new sensation filling your body with bliss…and a small bit of fear. Matt...you needed him. What if he walked away? What if he didn’t come back? What if-

Panic flashed across your face and you grasped for him, touching any part of him you possibly could. Whimpering when he reached down and held your hand. Squeezing it tightly, his motions never missing a beat.

“Oh pretty girl…I’m not going anywhere.”

He sighed affectionately, bringing his forehead down to touch yours. A hint of sadness laced his tone.

“Promise?”

You whispered shakily.

He smiled at you. He was half in awe of your obedience and half enraged that someone had made you think if was okay to leave you like this.

‘Never again.’ Matt thought to himself.

“Promise.”

You whimpered again as he began thrusting into you faster. Fucking you harder and deeper than before. With every jerk of his hips you could feel your mind getting fuzzier, an action you hadn’t thought possible. His deliberate movements making your brain short circuit as you neared your orgasm. Your moans becoming mixed with an occasional sob as tears began to stream down your cheeks.

He continued to drill into you, and with every surge of energy you felt rushing through him and into you, you fell a little further. Inching towards the precipice of release. Chasing the feeling of pleasure that was just around the corner, barely beyond your reach.

You were drunk on him, to hell with anyone and anything in the world other that Matt Murdock.

Despite the scripture and wary words of caution spoke in hushed tones. You dared to dance with the devil. You gave yourself over to temptation and let yourself get lost in sin. Lust, gluttony, greed, envy-

You’d risk it all for 5 more second with him.

You twisted your fate as you fell, further and further into the life of a spiraling paradox named Matthew.

That’s when you saw him, and were hit with remembrance that the two of you weren’t alone. Though it would have been impossible for the Devil to forget another presence, you had been a bit distracted by having the best sex of your life.

You locked eyes with Druig, he twisted helplessly against the ropes that bound his wrists. His eyes were wide and glassy, filled with the expression you were all too familiar with. His desperation for touch evident in everything about him. From his body language to the whimpers he tried (and failed) to suppress.

You knew the point he’s reached. The level of want need, the feeling he so often left you with. The point of no return. The moment in time when the desperation for pleasure lessened, and in its place came the yearning for any type of touch. A kiss, a slap, a hug, the soft brush of finger tips against one’s lips. Anything.

You knew it, Druig knew it, and Matt knew it.

You met Druig’s eyes and for a second you let him feel hopeful. You saw his eyes glimmers with a bit of optimism as he subconsciously tugged himself forward, just to be a bit closer to you.

And then-

You simply shook your head, and laughed. 

Laughed at him and his behavior. 

Laughed at his attitude. 

Laughed at his desperation. 

Laughed at him.

His eyes flickered golden, though not with anger...with desperation. But almost as quickly as the shimmering glint arrived, it vanished. Knowing that if he so much as -thought- about touching your mind Matt would “fucking kill him”. The clear frustration on his face only making you laugh harder.

Though you quickly cut yourself off by a series of uncontrollable whimpers leaving your mouth. 

Because no matter how much you enjoyed seeing Druig like this,

the Devil wasn’t done with you.

And you weren’t done with him.

Your gaze drifted back to Matt and you stared adoringly at the man in front of you. He offered you a small smile when he sensed your attention was back on him. You heard Druig whimper defeatedly in the distance but you were too absorbed in Matt to care about the other man. His quiet moans of frustration as he lost the one sense of connection he had only spurred the two of you on further.

The thought that you and the Devil had managed to turn this confident god-like creature into a pathetic mess willing to do practically anything for a mere second of your attention, caused you to shiver delightedly around Matt’s cock. Pushing you further towards the edge of the cliff laying between you and waves of endless pleasure.

“Matt...Matt please I’m so close.”

You chocked out, your words sounding small.

“Yeah sweetheart? I know you are. Come on be good and use your big girl words, and ask politely. We wouldn’t want to give our guest the wrong impression...now would we?”

You choked out a moan at his words and stumbling with your wording as you tried to form a coherent sentence. To which Matt gave you a look filled with mock pity and leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“I know sweetheart, I know. It’s not fair of me to ask this of you. I know your dumb little brain can’t handle this right now. I know baby I’m just sooo mean aren’t I? Just try for me, okay? Be a good girl and tell me what you need.”

You crumbled at his words, a new set of tears falling freely as you were too exhausted to hold them back any longer.

“Please sir. Please let me cum, I need it so bad. I don’t think I can hold it any longer. Please Matt I’ll do anything you ask-”

You rambled desperately only to be cut off by a harsh kiss that he pressed to your lips.

“Shh it’s okay pretty girl, it’s okay. Cum for me, don’t hold back. That’s my girl.”

And so, you fell.

Right into the arms of the devil,

and hell had never felt so sweet.

˚✧₊⁎♡˚✧₊⁎˳

after.  time: …?

“Are you sure? He doesn’t deserve it you know.”

“Yeah I know, but I also know how it feels to be in his position. Don’t want him there too long, hurts your heart after awhile.”

Matt frowned at the way your brow furrowed. But before you managed to get lost in memories he tugged your wrist, bringing you closer to him. Pulling you onto his lap and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He wrapped his arms around you and let you bury your face in the crook of his neck, keeping one hand on the back of your head.

You hadn’t realized just how touched starved you had been. Figuring that since you had sex and were granted the occasional hug, you were all set on necessary physical contact.

Oh how wrong you’d been.

Melting into Matt’s touch felt natural and anticipated. Like you were supposed to have done this all along. The two of you held that position for awhile, almost completely forgetting about Druig in the process.

You breathed him in. Smoke and sweet spice and blood.

Matt. Your devil.

You spoke softly into Matt’s t-shirt, your words becoming mumbled and faint. Matt guided your head back up, cupping your chin as he’d done so many times before.

“What was that sweetheart? I couldn’t hear you?”

The smirk was audible in his voice because of course he had heard you, didn’t matter how muffled it might have sounded. No, this was because he wanted Druig to hear.

“I said, it wouldn’t just be for him. I’m not done with him yet, want him to make me feel good…wanna make him feel good too. even if he doesn’t deserve it.”

You said, giving Matt a small mischievous smile.

“Atta girl.”

He said proudly, kissing your forehead once more before tilting his head towards Druig.

“Ya hear that puppy? She’s not done with you. You’re really lucky she’s here, I was planning on leaving you for someone else to deal with.”

Druig stayed silent, knowing the only sounds he was capable of producing were whimpers. He didn’t want to risk it. He’d take anything you gave him, anything. So if sitting down and shutting the fuck up would get him the smallest bit of attention, that’s what he’d do.

“Okay pretty girl, go make yourself feel good. Then we’re gonna clean up and go to dinner. I’ve got us a reservation at that nice french place the critics keep raving about.”

You smiled genuinely and pressed a kiss to his lips before hopping off his lap and making your way over to Druig, who was looking at you as if you were an angel sent from heaven.

“Hey puppy, want us to grab you something from the restaurant? Maybe a bone?”

Matt quipped.

Druig had to use every muscle in his body not to talk back, knowing that the devil was just trying to tempt him. And that if he gave in, his angel would be ripped away.

“Ignore him, we aren’t actually going to get you a bone.”

You said as you observed the wary look he was giving Matt.

He nodded gratefully at you. And you offered him a small smile.

Bending down until your face was level with his, you brought your hand to his head. Scratching lovingly which he enjoyed all too much. Closing his eyes and letting his neck fall slack.

“We’ll just give you the scraps from our left overs.”

You bit back, pulling his hair forcefully. You bit your lip trying not to laugh. His eyes snapping open as he had no choice but to make eye contact with you. His breath quickening uncontrollably. As his eyes darted around your body, pupils blown wide with lust.

You pulled his hair again when his gaze lingered on your chest for too long. He let out a strangled moan, he had clearly been trying to suppress. Followed by a few whimpers and he screwed his eyes shut at what you assumed must have been and attempt to shut out the pain.

You gave his hair one last tug, and opened your mouth to reprimand him for breaking eye contact. But you were rudely interrupted by a gasp, Druig’s jaw falling open slightly. Warmth flooded his cheeks and he began to tear up.

You looked at him confused. Hadn’t he liked pain? Did you do something wrong? You hadn’t meant to actually hurt him. You whipped your head around to consult Matt on what to do. But instead of being met with the ‘concerned-good person-merciful-catholic’ look you had been expecting.

The devil was smiling. A hungry & lustful smile that would have brought you to your knees had you not already been on the floor.

You cocked your head to the side, trying to understand what was going on.

He licked his lips and sensing your eyes on him, nodded back in Druig’s direction.

You brought your attention back to the man in front of you. What could possibly-

Oh.

Druig’s flushed cheeks, his tears, his heavy breathing that sounded almost like panting, and the fact that you had never seen him look…embarrassed before told you all that you needed to know.

You tilted your head down, Druig’s gaze following your own. As you realized he had cum, completely untouched. Just a few tugs of his hair and he’d broken. His eyes were shut again, describing his current emotion as embarrassment would be an understatement.

He winced when you brought you dropped your hand from his hair and brought it to cup his cheek. He dared to look at you and was met with a sweet smile.

“It’s okay, you just couldn’t help it right?”

You whispered, your thumb drawing circles on his cheeks. He nodded tentatively and licked his lips. You pouted mock-sympathetically, and grabbed his half hard cock with your free hand and began to stroke.

He whimpered and tried to twist away from the overstimulation. But you just quickened your movements.

“That’s too bad baby, I meant what I said earlier. I’m not done with you. So you better learn to control it or this is gonna feel a whole lot worse for you and a whole lot sweeter for me.”

Matt observed the two of you in awe. He reached into the pocket of his jacket laying on the desk and brought out two things.

A pack of cloves and a lighter.

He brought a cigarette to his lips and lit it while listening to the sounds of pained pleasure flowing through the room.

You were now kissing Druig, never once stopping the movement of your hand.

Matt smiled, he felt…proud.

The devil and his not-so-angelic angel.

The “god” in front of his girl cried and moaned even louder when she bit his lip.

A sign that even Druig, a utterly confusing magical entity with an ego bigger than Jupiter could break. Even the strong and mighty would turn weak and frightened if given the opportunity.

A gentle reminder that even Druig was mortal.

Even the man who could control minds and live endless lifetimes, was not a God.

Matt found that comforting, he hoped this would be a humbling experience for Druig. Because if he didn’t change his attitude…

Well…Matt would never kill anyone…

He’d never crush someone’s skull into the ground.

Matt would never hold a knife to Druig’s throat as he fucked him, luring him into a sense of security and then letting the sharp edge of his dagger tear gracefully through the soft skin of his traitorously beautiful body.

He’d never use Druig as an ash tray, putting out the burning embers of his cigarettes on his chest till the only senses that filled him that remained was ash, the smell of sweet smoke, spice, and blood.

He didn’t dream of running his blade up and down Druig’s body. Just barely drawing blood. He didn’t fantasize about marking him with things other than hickeys and bites.

No of course not, he would never.

Matt would never kill.

But he knew someone who would.

Because Frank Castle owed the Devil a favor.

A favor that the Devil was dying to use.

…

"By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return." -Genesis 3:19

…

end.

˚✧₊⁎ ˚✧₊⁎˳✧ ✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎ ˚✧₊⁎ ˚✧₊⁎˳✧

hope you liked it…😵‍💫

xoxo,

allie🕊

note: i missed SO MANY kinks and things i wanted to write about D: guess i’ll just have to make more fics!! jthis won’t be the last you hear of me…promise <3 ;)

another note: dust to dust was the final part! <- this is in regards to the alleged “part 3” (sorry guys!)

taglist! plus people who showed interest in part 2 <3 @dopeqff @psychickryptonitebouquet @spritelover @halobaby @themusingofagothicsoul @quethekillerqueen @angeliqxx @westyywifee @valromanoff @po3ticb3auty @thelimited-unlimited @heartofwritiing @desertsagecelestial @plushie-hyuka @tompetersebbuckyhazleo @4ngelsthings @peakyrogers @gutflorizt @ilikebignoses @murdicks @hungryyeyes @perseone @mischiefmanaged7 @fandomtrashwhore @juniebugg @bii-aan-ckaa @iamburdened @nikkitc0703 @waspswidows @novaresque @drownedpoetess @bamposworld

[mewmurdock]

stitches (part two)

Summary: You and Matt need each other.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Warnings: smut! 18+ content. a whole lotta desperate lovin'.

A/N: This is part two of 'stitches'. You can read part one here. This is purely the smut portion of the request that inspired this two part mini series. Thank you to @gaitwae for helping me with a line at the end. This GIF brings out a reaction from me that is completely and unashamedly feral.

"Please," you whisper, "please don't — don't leave me."

"No," Matt says softly. "Never." He holds your head, strokes your hair. Breathes you in. "I'd never leave you." He exhales, and his own breath is shaky. "But you can't leave me either."

You find yourself unable to say anything else to that... not that you want to. All you can do is hold him, clawing at his back and pressing up against him as much as you can without hurting him.

In an instant, something changes in you, and you pull your head back and kiss him hard and passionately on the lips. He accepts, kissing you back with fervor.

You need him. You need to feel him. And you know, by the way he takes his hands away from your head and brings them down to your ass, he needs you too.

He pulls back. "Let me take you to bed," he breathes. "Please."

"Yes," you whisper, instantly.

He grips you, tightly, standing up and carrying you into the bedroom. He lays you down so gently, kissing your forehead. "Does your back hurt?" he asks. "It isn't too scratched up, just... one big bump where you hit the wood."

"It's a little sore," you admit.

"Did you want to be on top?" he asks, tilting his head. "I don't mind." He takes his glasses off and turns to his left and manages to put them on the bedstand. He turns back to you, and, though his eyes do not find yours, he is still looking at you. "I'd... I want to feel you on me. I want to have my hands all over you." He grins. "I want to feel you shudder as you come."

You gasp at that. "Oh... yes, please."

Matt hums, a curt little sound that sounds amused. He takes his black shirt off, and you see his crucifix necklace, glinting in the small amounts of light peeking through the window. He never takes it off. Not anymore. Not since he married you. "Good." He drops himself, falling beside you. He shuffles out of his pants, and leaves himself in his boxers for the time being. "I wanna undress you myself though. I can never resist having my hands all over you."

He rolls over to face you and soon enough, he's unbuttoning things and unzipping things and shuffling you out of your clothes, careful of your bruises and your back.

"We don't want more of these tonight, do we?" he asks, placing a hand right where a bruise is --- on your bare shoulder. It's a genuine question, though one you know he's hoping you'll say no to.

"No, thank you," you mutter. "These hurt like a bitch. The ones you leave... they're better, But... no, not tonight."

"Alright." He smiles. "No problem." His hands softly caress you, covering your body in warmth and a firmness that you love so much. "God, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, deep in thought. "How anyone can be this lovely... I have no clue. Best not to question it."

He grips you just a bit tighter and leans into softly kiss your breasts. His tongue is warm and his lips are soft, and he tenderly strokes your waist and your stomach. You sigh contentedly, but you fight to keep your head up and look at him. The angle is a little bothersome on your neck.

Matt notices. "Just lay back, sweetheart." He smiles. "It's alright. I'll take care of you."

He knows all of those words are the dreaded combo, the attack that hurls you into subspace. The wind is knocked out of you and you sigh into the air, letting your head fall back onto the bed.

"There you go," he mutters. You can hear the smile in his voice. "Good girl. Lift your hips for me." You do so. He brings you a very big, very soft pillow and places it under you. Your hips are now elevated. You know what he's going to do next.

"Matt."

"Yes?"

"You don't — you don't have to do that."

He hums. "Angel, you always say this. Do you not want me to do this?"

"N-no," you whine admittedly.

"Then let me. I want to do this. Let me love you. Let me make you come. Please?"

You nod. "Yes. Yes... please."

A smirk, then he leans in and begins to make love to you with his tongue. His movements are so gentle, so tender but so confident. He moves to lay down completely, hands coming down to your waist and keeping you where he can reach you.

For a while, nothing is said as Matt continues. He licks and sucks and nibbles at your pussy with no rush, no sense of urgency. He takes his time with you, hearing your little gasps and whines, feeling your little movements when he does something you particularly like. He hums into your pussy, curt little moans of his own. The warmth in your lower belly continues to grow, and your sighs become louder and more frequent.

When you get close, you reach out and grab his hands. He takes your hands in his, never stopping.

"Matt — " you gasp, your cunt clenching around nothing as the warmth in your body spreads. "'m coming—"

"I know," he mumbles into your pussy. One hand lets go of yours to rest on your lower stomach. "I know, sweetheart. I can feel it. Come for me." He latches onto your clit, sucks one, two, three times, and you're gone.

He holds you down by your stomach with one hand as you come, keeping his mouth on you and leaving the other hand in yours. You exhale your moan in a shaky breath, your eyes shut tight. You know Matt loves the sounds of your moans, despite how soft and breathy they may be.

"There," he moans, softly praising you through your orgasm. "There you go." When you begin to twitch and shiver with oversensitivity, he lets you go, kissing your inner thigh. "Good job."

You breathe hard, but you're happy and calm. "Thank you..." you breathe. "Thanks, baby." For a moment, you rest both where you are, gathering your bearings and letting the peace settle in.

The second you move, with the intention of returning the favor, he brings a hand up and gently pushes you back down onto the bed. "Now," he says softly, that smirk still present on his face, "where do you think you're going?"

"To return the favor," you say with an equal grin.

"Thank you. I appreciate it, but... I wanna feel you tonight. I wanna be inside you."

"You sure?"

"You can repay me later. For now though..." Matt sits beside you, on the edge of the bed. "Y'wanna get on top, baby?"

You're both slow to get yourselves situated, slow and careful and cautious. You're careful of each other's bruises and stitches. You're careful not to hurt the other.

Slowly, you do successfully get on top of Matt, straddling him. His cock is hard, and ready for you. But first, you lean over him and kiss him. You both wrap your arms around each other, and Matt moans in appreciation.

You sink down onto his cock, slowly, slowly. Matt hisses, and you moan out at the stretch.

"Everything okay?" he asks, looking up at you. His disheveled hair and wide eyes give him a look you absolutely adore. You nod. There's a pause. "Baby?"

"Yeah," you breathe, when you remember. "Sorry... it's good... it's good."

"Good..."

He starts to rock you, back and forth, both hands right at the top of your ass. His breathing is low and even. Yours is higher pitched but at the same pace. You're both relaxed. Relieved. Careful.

Occasional, softer moans break the casual flow of sound, of breath between the two of you. Then,

"You're... you're the best thing that's ever happened to me," Matt whispers. "Ever. You know that, right?"

You whimper out a barely audible "yes". But he hears it.

He hears everything; your whimpers, your breathy moans, your tiny little hiccups and sobs of pleasure, the creak of the bed as you rock yourselves... the way your heart rate increases when he praises you.

He can feel everything, too; the warmth of your body against his, the grip of your hands against his back, holding you against him, the sweat on his own forehead, the clenching of your scorching hot walls on his cock...

"You're everything to me," he says with a little groan. "You hear me? Everything."

You look down at him.

It hits you again that he looks absolutely beautiful, even with those disgusting stitches. His eyes are glossed over, his body flushed and pink, his hair disheveled and wild.

"I love you," you whisper in response, your chest tightening with love. You want to say more but you don't know what to say. "I love you, Matty."

He understands. He holds you tighter, rocks you a little harder now. "I know, baby. I know you do. God, I love you so much... I wouldn't want anyone else but you, you know that?"

There it is again, the overpowering feeling his praise gives you. In your eyes, nothing can match up to the way he speaks to you, how passionately and gently he treats you. Nothing you can do or say will ever be more than what he does. You try your best.

He doesn't believe that, of course. He thinks the same thing you do, but about you.

Matt feels so enamored by you, so humbled and adored by you. You're so good to him; so kind and generous and flexible and everything he'd ever want in a woman. But most of all, you love him just as much as he loves you — it feels like more, though.

"No one else but you," he repeats. "You're my everything. My — my only." He breaks off into a moan. "You. Just you."

Everything rises, eventually, and you're left wordlessly shuddering on his cock as you come. He follows, a shaky breath leaving him as he spills... right after you've lifted yourself off of him.

The afterglow is almost like a crash, coming down from that beautiful moment of euphoria, but it's easier with Matt beside you. He's there to hold you so tenderly as the aftershocks run through you, whispering endearments — not just for your sake, but for his own, too.

Everything matters here — especially when you need a reminder that your spouse is alive and well and breathing and safe.

Safe.

Thank you, Matt thinks. It's a prayer. Thank you. Thank you.

Twenty minutes pass. You originally felt awkward, not being able to shower, but you're comfortable enough now. You lay together in the bed, Matt's arm protectively over your shoulder and you up against his bare chest. He stares upward, a wistful expression on his face.

It's an unspoken feeling, then, in the dark. In the dimly lit bedroom. In each other's arms, despite the aching and the stinging of your injuries and your stitches, and the very faint warmth in your bodies from the lovemaking. The feeling is a very mutual one:

We can't promise each other. We can't promise each other that we won't leave.

You almost say something. You almost pick your head up and smile sadly at him. You almost say, "If I do leave, it'll be over my dead body." But you know better. So you keep silent.

But he knows you were going to say something. He could hear the way you inhaled, just slightly, the way your chest became tight for only a millisecond... and the way you exhaled again, letting your chest relax.

"What?" he asks softly. "What is it?"

"You don't..." you trail off. "You don't want to hear it. It's not gonna change things."

He makes a little noise at that. Something... accepting. A little grunt. "Mm."

"We can try, right?" you ask, your tone low but still implying hope. "We can get through it, one day at a time."

He hums. "Yeah, maybe. I've always admired you for your optimism."

You joke, trying to lighten the mood. "Is that why you married me? You needed someone to... counter your pessimism?"

He grins, just a tad. You never fail to make me happy, even on my worst days, he thinks.

"No," he says. "I married you because you sew my socks back up when they get holes in them."

As you laugh, he takes the opportunity to take a hold of your head with one very gentle hand and quickly press little kisses to your forehead and your cheeks and your eyelids and your jaw.

"Yeah," he says with that same smile, "we can try. One day at a time."

[farfromstrange]

Sub Space | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Masterlist

Requested by @taliaxxb !

Summary: After a particularly rough session with Matt, you slip into a different headspace.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, multiple orgasms, rough sex, degradation, subspace, sub drop, overstimulation, aftercare

Word Count: 1.9k

A/n: Thank you so much for your request, my love, and I hope you like this! Since you left me the choice, I chose reader to go into subspace, but I did mention Matt going through it too in the past. Once again, my tag list goes for requested fics now too.

Sex with Matt often varies. There are times he’s gentle, savoring every second and swallowing every single one of your moans with fiery kisses that leave your mind reeling. His thrusts are hard and slow then, always making sure you can feel him everywhere, but he doesn’t push past what both of you need. 

Sometimes, you make love. You hold hands and you get lost in each other’s eyes – as much as that is possible. 

But then there are times he tears your clothes right off and pounds into you like a madman, or he asks you to do the same to him. He takes control because he needs it, or he craves for you to be in control because he can’t keep up with the thoughts in his head anymore; sometimes, he needs an escape, and sometimes, you do, and then there are times that you both desperately need a break and it’s less sensual than it is wild fucking that almost breaks the bed and wakes the neighbors in the middle of the night. 

Your sex life never grows boring, and you value his attention to detail which never leaves you dissatisfied. He makes sure you enjoy yourself, and he does it perfectly. You often ask yourself if he’s real, but then you get to touch him and you’re reminded that he chose you and you chose him and that’s all that matters because you’re more than real to each other. 

Tonight is one of those nights where he’s come home after patrol, his suit cleaner than usual, and that tells you his night has been rather quiet – it frustrates him often, and there is a lot of adrenaline left for him to let out. His body quivers with it. He needs to let go of all of his anger and he needs to do it fast, so you know that falling back asleep is not something you want to do. He needs you in all the ways he can get like an animal in the wild. And you are more than willing to give it to him. His heaving chest and the look in his eyes are enough to get you worked up, to say the least. 

Your hands are tied to each side of the headboard, the fabric of the rope burning against your wrists as you try for the millionth time to move out of them. Matt is pounding into your abused cunt, and his words are like sweet poison in your ear. One second, you are his good girl, and the next you are a “filthy slut who’s only good to have her holes filled.” And he’s dragged four orgasms out of you already, your body and your mind feel like they’re floating in a space far away. 

Your velvety walls hug him so perfectly, but you’re tired and his cock brushes against your G-spot at an agonizing speed. You clench around him, your fifth orgasm of the night not far away. His hand collides with your ass cheek as he tells you to hold it. God, you try, but it’s so hard with the way he’s handling you. His hands are everywhere now, one around your throat while the other is still grabbing at your red ass cheeks, and the coil in your stomach multiplies to the point you can only cry. With every rigorous thrust, your clit bumps against the pillow under your pelvis. The ropes leave their indentations, but no matter how much you beg, he won’t let you go. His weight keeps the rest of you tied down, so now you can’t even move your legs anymore. It’s all so good yet so bad, and it hurts. You can’t hold it anymore, you’re sure you’re going to die soon, but then he pulls at your hair and his voice sounds nothing like the sweet Matt he can be when he growls, “Don’t fucking cum!” It’s a threat. 

You shiver. “Please,” you beg, but your voice betrays you. 

“Aw, listen to yourself. You’re so cockdrunk already. That’s pathetic. Your pussy is mine, do you understand?” He tugs harder at your hair, the pain mingling with the pleasure. “I said, do you understand?”

“Yes!” you cry out. “God, yes! But I can’t–”

“Yes, you can. Be a good girl for me or I won’t let you cum at all.”

At this point, you’re not sure if that wouldn’t be a good thing. 

He keeps pounding into you, and his thrusts grow even harder. You can only lay there and take what he gives you and hope he doesn’t punish you too much if you do happen to disappoint him. 

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” Matt takes a whiff of your skin. You smell like sex, sweat, and despair. 

You nod weakly. 

“Can’t even take my cock like a good little slut?”

You’re not sure when it happens, but at some point, your brain shuts off and you find yourself in a weird middle space where the dream and the reality of the situation blur, and the pleasure overshadows your ability to think with heavy fog. 

You drop, and you can’t find your way back out. 

Minutes start to feel like hours. Your body spasms with the orgasm that ripples through you. It sets your nerve endings on fire. The silk sheets burn against your skin, but you can’t move. Matt’s cum feels sticky as it trickles out of you, his body heavy on yours. You feel suffocated. 

He calls your name, but you can’t answer. 

He’s quick to pull out and untie your wrists, his once so-dark features now riddled with concern. 

You zone out. 

“Sweetheart,” he tries to coax you out of it by rolling you onto your back. “Hey, look at me.”

Your chest deflates. 

“C’mon.”

Wherever your mind is stuck, you can only hear him, but you can’t answer. You’re paralyzed to the point you even forget how to breathe.

He feels the heat radiating off of you and how the oxygen gets stuck in your throat. His hand hovers above your chest. You’re panting. “Baby, breathe,” Matt urges you. 

How do you breathe again?

“Listen to my voice. You’re okay. It’s over. You did so well…”

On any other day, the praise would have gone straight to your head, but right now you’re shaking, quivering and you can’t breathe, and that makes it impossible for his words to take their usual effect.

“In and out,” he says. 

You try to focus on his voice this time.

In and out and in and out. 

The pulse between your legs jumps. Your clit is so sensitive, even the air on it hurts. You clench your legs, your face contorting in an expression of pain. But even the motion itself hurts. It hurts while at the same time, it sends shockwaves of a much higher caliber through your being. 

Eventually, your breathing evens out, his words guiding your lungs back to the point of functionality.

“There you go. Good girl,” he says. He reaches beside himself and grabs the water bottle you often keep there for your nightly thirst.

“Here, drink.” Matt guides it to your lips. “I need you to get some water into your body, sweetheart. Please. You’re dehydrated.”

He’s not wrong. You take a few hesitant sips, your throat thanking you in the process. 

“Can I touch you now?”

You don't know much, but this you know. You shake your head. 

He nods. He understands what it’s like to feel like you’re being tortured by even the softest brush of fingertips. The sex was rough and he went further than you usually do when he’s not fully himself, but you both agreed to this, and you didn’t want to use your safeword because you didn’t need it. This wasn’t his fault, it’s your brain that has slipped into a black hole and blurry oblivion, and that’s all hormonal, you know. 

“I’m gonna get a towel and clean you up now, okay?” he breaks the silence. 

You don’t trust your voice just yet, so you just nod. He reads your body language like an open book. 

As he comes back from the bathroom, he starts wiping you down with a warm towel, making sure not to touch your overly sensitive areas just yet. He’s careful, extremely gentle, and every once in a while he listens to your heartbeat as if to check if you’re still conscious. 

When it comes to treating the burns on your wrists, he uses the aloe you have often used in situations like these and starts applying it to the wounds. The guilt is written all over his face, but you don’t have it in yourself to comfort him. You couldn’t have even if you tried. 

You’re not sure for how long you just lie there, but it must have been a while. Matt finishes cleaning you up, wrapping you in the blanket, before returning to your side. His unfocused eyes are directed at you, and you can tell from the look on his face that he’s watching you in his own unique way.

This has happened before. Once, to be exact. You were trying out a particularly rough kind of breath play and the things he did to you released so much dopamine, you found yourself drained, and you disappeared on him. It’s been a while since then, maybe that’s why he looks so worried. 

He can’t deny that it hasn’t happened to him before either because it has, but with Matt, it is often overstimulation that puts him into sub-space, and it takes a lot more to coax him out of it because every time he slips, his body is on fire.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as he strokes a strand of hair out of your face. 

You finally meet his eyes, and your breathing has returned to normal. You’re tired, and every muscle in your body aches, but you’re aware of your surroundings now. Your thoughts have sorted themselves out. 

“I was too rough tonight.”

“No,” you manage to say. 

“Yes,” Matt shakes his head, “I was.”

“I’m…okay.” It’s not a lie, you just feel… weird. 

His thumb strokes over your cheekbone. “Where did you just go?”

“I don’t know. Just… too much.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am now.”

He takes your hand in his and you return the sentiment before curling into his side. It’s like you need him to breathe. Your demeanor changes and there is nothing you want more than to be close to him right now. There is a fine line between overstimulation and being needy, and now you just need to be held because it feels weird to be so empty and yet fulfilled at the same time. Your brain is fuzzy. You don’t know a lot, but you know you need him, and he would never hurt you. 

It’s a natural response, and Matt knows that too, deep down. 

He holds you close to him, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. “What do you need?” he asks. 

“Just hold me,” you whisper. “That’s all.”

“Okay…”

“And then a shower.”

“Okay,” he says. 

Your lips part as you get lost in his embrace. “I love you,” you say. 

“I love you too,” and Matt leans down to press another gentle kiss to your sweaty forehead. 

He’s here for you and he always will be, which is exactly why you feel safest in his arms. And when the same thing happens to him, you won’t hesitate to do the same for him. 

Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @lina-mar @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked