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bellaxgiornata · 2 days

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I'm happy to have played a role in causing feral and unhinged feelings over that damn black suit because it needs to be properly appreciated. And you know me, I love a spicy Matty/Devil 🙃

Ahh thank you!! I'm glad to hear this installment left a lasting impression on you 😆 Always happy to remind y'all how damn hot that suit is!

Now I think Reader needs to appreciate the red suit sometime soon...

Falling For the Devil [Part thirty-eight: "The Black Suit"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You finish up work at The Bulletin late, but Matt still asks you to come over while he's out as Daredevil and wait for him to return home.

You forgot the red suit was being repaired, and that black suit really does something to you–which has Matt very much intrigued.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 5.4k

a/n: Another smupdate--this time featuring Reader very much appreciating the black suit. Because why the hell would there not be black suit Matt smut in FFTD? This is offically the halfway point (so far) of all the installments currently published on AO3! You can find the entire list of installments for this series on tumblr here. And if you're enjoying the series, let me know!

Staring at the laptop screen before you, the article you were working on for The Bulletin was finally written. You'd been working on it for the past couple of hours since you'd been at Matt’s and had been working on finishing editing it now. Though you'd been constantly distracted by how weird it felt being at Matt's by yourself tonight.

He had given you a key to his place not too long ago, wanting you to start making yourself feel comfortable and at home here so you could hopefully transition to living here with him in the spring when your lease was up. And honestly, you appreciated the fact that he wasn't rushing you with this and instead letting you both take some time to adjust before jumping into it. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't been already overthinking absolutely everything you possibly could about being in the same space with him all the time–hell, you'd be disposing all of your used period products at his place then. And if you got sick he'd hear and smell you throwing up in the bathroom. You cringed at the thought. Shaking your head, you tried to focus back on editing the article and not letting your mind spiral on everything Matt would inevitably become aware of with you living with him.

Though that weird feeling of being here alone still sat with you. You'd gotten off work late at The Bulletin and Matt had told you he was already going out to do his Daredevil thing but he'd wanted you to come over anyway. To be here when he came home. Tonight was the first time you’d actually needed to use the key, letting yourself in while he was already out.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Maybe you just needed a break. The article was ahead of deadline anyway. You could just relax and watch something on your laptop until Matt came back. You'd thankfully convinced him the other night not to buy a television just for you, since he would never watch it and you already had one. You'd insisted you would just watch shows on your laptop when you were here.

Saving your progress on your article, and triple checking that it was saved, you exited out of the program. You were about to open Netflix on your laptop, but the door to Matt's roof access opened with a loud creak and you jumped on the couch, throwing a hand over your startled heart.

"Sorry," Matt's deep voice apologized quickly. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"I just wasn't expecting–" you said, closing your laptop and turning towards him on the landing. Your breath caught in your throat, your sentence briefly hanging in the air. He wasn't dressed as Daredevil–you'd forgotten how he was still getting the suit fixed from when he'd had the helmet smashed in the other night–he was dressed in the all black suit you had personally never seen on him. Swallowing hard, your heart still racing as he began descending the steps, you finished your sentence with a breathy, "You."

His masked head tilted curiously to the side as he made his way down the stairs. "Didn't scare you that bad, did I? Your heart is still racing," he pointed out.

"I–uh, no," you said nervously, your eyes instantly dropping from his mouth to the perfectly defined abdominal muscles the black fabric was somehow making look even more defined with the way it clung to him like a second skin. "I just–just uh, forgot that you–you weren't wearing the other suit tonight," you stammered as he reached the bottom of the steps, feeling your cheeks heat up as your eyes dropped to how thick his thighs looked in those tight, dark pants.

He paused a few feet from the bottom of the stairs, his attention fixed on you sitting on the couch. His figure looked intimidating, dangerous, and incredibly muscular in the black suit as he towered above you across the room. Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth as your gaze continued to linger on his body, actively roving every inch of him so intensely you were sure he had to be able to feel it. You forced yourself to try and calm your breathing and your heart as you did, both beginning to get wildly out of your control. For some reason you desperately had the urge to tear that black shirt off of him with your nails and bite every bit of flesh you could get your teeth on.

Which certainly was not like you.

"You know," he said slowly, drawing you back to the present and causing your attention to focus on his lips beneath the mask as he spoke, "before I came in here you were pretty calm. Tired, even. And now I come back," he continued, his masked gaze gradually surveying you from top to bottom, the gesture raising goosebumps along your arms, "and your heart is beating pretty fast. Your breathing has significantly picked up."

His mouth curled into a smirk under the mask and your thighs pressed together on the couch at the sight, fighting the urge to squirm under his covered gaze. You watched his tongue very slowly appear between those plump lips, his smirk growing even more when it had disappeared back into his mouth. Embarrassment mixed with your increasing arousal. He knew. He fucking knew how your body was reacting to him right now and he was enjoying it.

"You like this, don't you?" he mused, a gloved hand gesturing to his suit.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, heat burning your cheeks. How the hell was a handful of clothing items doing this to you? Working you up into a frenzy?

He took a few step towards you and your heart stuttered in your chest, thighs clenching tighter. He hadn't done a damn thing and already you felt yourself getting wet at just the sight of him.

"Answer me, sweetheart," he demanded–the Devil’s voice, not Matt’s, you noted.

"Yes," you breathed out.

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. You internally mourned the obstruction of half of his torso, but the position allowed for a better view of his thick arms. Desperately you wanted those arms pinning you down to the bed. Or a wall. Fuck, anywhere really.

"Why?" he asked curiously.

"I don't know," you whispered back.

He took another step towards you, the smirk still on his mouth beneath the black fabric. "Lie," he called out, tone teasing.

Licking your lips nervously, your hips shifted on the couch. Your cunt was aching and desperate for attention right now. He was toying with you on purpose, you knew that.

“I’ve–I’ve never seen you in the black suit,” you finally admitted shyly. “I’ve only seen pictures of it. On the news. Before I–I knew you.”

He took another step closer to the couch in those black boots. You could feel your own pulse hammering in your throat at the almost predatory way he was slowly stalking towards you in that goddamn black suit.

“And you liked what you saw, hmm?” he asked, voice low.

“The uh, grainy photos certainly didn’t quite do you justice,” you muttered breathily, eyes glancing back down at his abs again.

Another step closer, the smirk still lingering along that perfect mouth of his. “I haven’t even touched you, sweetheart, and you’re positively wet already. You like this that much?” he questioned.

Hands fisting the material of the sweatpants you’d changed into after arriving at his apartment, you nodded slowly. “Yes,” you answered.

A pleased hum rumbled in his throat as he took another step closer, now standing almost beside the coffee table in front of you. “You want me to fuck you in this?” he asked next.

Something like a hot spark shot through your entire body, raising the hairs along your arms. You definitely, definitely wanted him to. But would he?

“Yes,” you whispered instantly.

The smirk on his mouth changed, shifting into something sinful and devilish at your response. He uncrossed his arms, waving you over with a gloved hand. “Come here,” he urged.

Nervously you rose from the couch, knees shaking slightly as you carefully approached him. You came to a stop right in front of him, bare feet just in front of his booted ones. One of those gloved hands came out, gently landing on your hip. Your skin felt like it was on fire underneath the layers of fabric between the skin of your hip and his hand.

“Before I fuck you,” he began, pausing to enjoy the way you swallowed hard at his words, “I’ll let you take a moment to appreciate the outfit. Since I can tell just how much you like it."

“What?” you asked, eyes narrowing.

His hand moved fast, darting out to grab your wrist before placing your palm on his chest. You could feel the solid muscle just beneath the thin, smooth fabric of his black shirt. Gradually he dragged your hand down the front of him, his hand still encircling your wrist. You could feel every dip and crevice between each individual muscle along his torso until he stopped your hand just above the belt looped through his dark pants.

“Go on,” he urged, smirk returning to his mouth as he released your wrist. “Touch me. I know you want to.”

He stood there before you, head tilted to the side as he studied you beneath the mask. His arms returned to his sides as your hand still rested low on his abdomen, just above his belt. Your breath was coming in even faster now, almost shaky with each inhale and exhale.

Hesitantly, your fingers glided back up over his abs, appreciating the firmness beneath them. Your left hand carefully came up to rest just over the firm right pectoral muscle of his chest. Risking a glance up, you could hear the sharp exhalations coming from Matt. The smirk was gone though, replaced with something almost feral and wild as he held himself back from you. Hands shaking, both of them gradually made their way up towards his broad shoulders.

Every part of his body felt so unbelievably solid and powerful. Not that you didn't already know how tone he was underneath everything he wore, but all that muscle wrapped in that clinging, black fabric, which had frightened and threatened countless dangerous criminals, as he just stood here before you motionless and willing was fucking exhilarating.

Your hands slid up his warm neck, cradling his face in between your palms before roughly pulling his mouth towards yours. He kissed you back with a level of restraint that you certainly couldn't miss with the noises building in his throat and the tension growing in his body. When you broke away from his mouth, you heard the grunt of protest from him, but he remained still and patient as your hands slid over him while you moved around behind him.

You hadn't even seen the back of him yet, and your eyes adoringly raked over every inch of his muscled back visible along the expansive plane of his body. Immediately your focus dropped down–those grainy photos didn't remotely do his ass justice in these pants. Gradually your hands made their way down his back, a few of his muscles jerking under your touch as they went.

Your hands paused at the top of the waistband of his pants. Your eyes were still very much focused on his ass that you knew was so round and firm and perfect beneath that fabric. Matt's head shifted over his right shoulder looking back at you with a grin.

"Go on, I know you want to," he teased.

Both hands quickly dropped down, landing on his ass over the dark pants. For a brief moment you paused, appreciating the fact that you were grabbing The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen's ass over those same dark pants that Katy had zoomed in on in the old photos of Daredevil's early days so many times before. Biting your tongue, you decided to take a risk and do something you'd imagined a few times too many before you'd even met Matt and had learned who the man in black really was. Your right hand released its hold, drawing back just a bit before you swung it forward, landing a solid but fairly gentle smack on his ass. Matt startled slightly for a moment before he glanced back over his shoulder, emitting what sounded like a playful growl.

"You enjoying yourself back there?" he asked, tone amused.

You couldn't fight the little grin on your mouth. You were, in fact, very much enjoying yourself.

"Quite possibly," you teased back.

A chuckle rumbled in his throat. "You need more time back there or can I move this forward, sweetheart?" he asked.

Your pulse quickened again at the thought of fucking him in the black suit. You hadn't even fucked him in the Daredevil suit before, though you'd certainly imagined it. And definitely would be imagining it more after tonight…

"And what do you have in mind?" you questioned him curiously.

He spun towards you the moment you'd asked your question. You trembled a little at the masked face that somehow was still hungrily staring back at you behind the black fabric. Without responding, he lunged at you, taking you by surprise before his mouth was on yours. His gloved hands grabbed you hard by the hips as he tugged you into his body so tight you could feel his own arousal pressing into you. He was kissing you feverishly in a flurry of tongue and teeth, his mouth only riling you up further.

You were moaning back into his mouth, far past your usual level of arousal with Matt because of the damn suit as your fingers dug into his back, when you felt his hands moving down your body. Swiftly he grabbed you just under your ass and pulled you up onto himself. Releasing his mouth, you gasped out in surprise as your arms quickly wrapped around his firm shoulders to steady yourself. He was nipping at your neck as he began carrying you, and as you felt more wet heat dampening your underwear, you expected him to bring you to the bedroom.

Instead you realized he was carrying you to his kitchen. Your brows furrowed in confusion, enjoying the amazing feel of his mouth on your neck but wondering if he'd somehow gotten himself turned around. Until he very intentionally plopped you onto the kitchen counter before him, his two thick arms boxing your hips in from where they were positioned on either side of the counter. He leaned forward, lowering himself so his masked face was level with yours, mere inches from you. Your hips squirmed needily along the counter. He was toying with you again, you could feel it.

"I take it you've thought about fucking me long before you knew who I was," he murmured, the sound of the Devil’s voice sending a shudder down your spine.

"Mhmm," you hummed back.

You were dying for him to touch you already.

His jaw clenched tight at your admission, his head rolling back a bit as if that alone had turned him on. And then he was focusing back on you again, that dark smirk on his mouth–exactly where your gaze was currently focused.

"Naughty girl, thinking about fucking the Devil," he ground out.

He was going to kill you with anticipation.

" Matt ," you whined.

"Hey," he countered, that sly smirk still on his mouth, "you had your fun, sweetheart. Enjoying the suit. Now I'd like to take a minute to appreciate the fact that you wanted me , like this, long before you knew me." One of his gloved hands appeared between your legs, his fingers gently resting on your clothed cunt. "You ever get off to me before?" he questioned curiously.

"What?" you asked, eyes widening.

"You know what I mean, sweetheart," he murmured back, his fingers adding a bit of pressure along your sweatpants. "Answer the question."

You whimpered in response to the light touch over where you desperately needed him. Fuck you needed more than that.

"Yes," you answered softly.

There was a pleased hum that vibrated in his throat. "And what did you think about?" he pushed.

Immediately your cheeks flamed at the question. That seemed quite personal.

"Matt, what're you–"

"Did you think about the man in the mask saving you in an alley?" he mused. "And then you'd thank him by letting him have you against a brick wall?" His fingers very slowly rubbed against you and a moan slipped out of you. "Or did you think about me climbing into your window late at night? Fucking you so hard into your mattress?"

"I–" you began, feeling shy as he waited for a response. But his fingers were rubbing harder over your sweatpants and you hoped an answer would get you more. "I thought about you breaking into my apartment," you breathed out. "Running into you when I–I came home from work." He made a noise in response like he wanted you to continue. Your heart sped up at what you were about to admit. "And you'd…eat me out on the kitchen table before fucking me over it."

"Oh sweetheart," he nearly purred, his fingers stopping and causing you to whine in protest. "I can most certainly taste that beautiful pussy, but I’m going to fuck you on our kitchen counter until you're a mess." He removed his hands from you, pulling the gloves off and throwing them aside.

You most certainly hadn’t missed the way he’d said ‘our,’ but you were currently more interested in the fact that his hands were tugging at your underwear and sweatpants, yanking them roughly down your legs at the same time. Your own hands grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it up quickly over your head before you began unclasping your bra.

The moment you saw his hands about to slide the mask off his face, you blurted, “Leave it on.”

His hands paused at the edge of the fabric, a slight huff of amusement falling from him. “If you insist,” he replied, voice deep as his hands came to rest on your bare thighs.

“Are you done teasing me now, baby?” you whispered, staring at the black material obscuring half his face.

His lips curled upward at the corner, that almost feral expression returning. One of his fingers dove straight into your cunt and you sharply gasped in surprise before the noise broke on a sound of pleasure.

“So impatient for me,” he mused, his finger pumping into you.

“Baby, please,” you breathily begged.

“You like calling the Devil that?” he asked, slowly dropping down between your legs.

You eyed him below you with an unwavering gaze of your own, his mouth just hovering before your cunt. His warm breath was brushing over your skin, the sensation mingled with his finger still thrusting into you deliciously pleasant.

“I think you like it when I call you that,” you shot back.

Taken aback, his finger actually stopped its motion inside of you. Slowly, his masked face shifted up towards yours, gazing back up at you between your thighs. He was genuinely smiling up at you.

“You're damn right, I do," he agreed, tone gravelly. "And for being so open with me tonight, sweetie, I’m going to give you exactly what you want."

He didn’t even give you a chance to respond before his mouth was on you, a second finger slipping inside of you. Your head fell back over your shoulders, both of your hands sliding back a bit behind you on the counter as his tongue wholeheartedly lapped at your clit. After the building anticipation, your body had been yearning for attention. But despite how amazing it felt, you forced your head back up, your eyes landing on the sight before you.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was between your thighs as you sat on the kitchen counter, black mask covering half his face as he practically devoured you, two thick fingers thrusting into you with a vigorous pace. His grunting and the occasional sound as he sucked your clit mixed with the wet sounds of his fingers pumping into your very wet cunt in the kitchen. One of your hands darted out, gripping the material of the back of his mask between your fingers. A deep noise rumbled up out of him and vibrated along your clit. The sensation had your legs shaking.

“Shit, Matty,” you whimpered, grip tightening on the mask.

With a loud grunt, his fingers slid out of you. A moment later his hands were throwing your legs over his shoulders before he roughly yanked you further towards him. You fell back onto your elbows watching as his left hand came up to rest on your stomach as his fingers took over working your clit. His mouth lowered, his tongue mercilessly fucking into you over and over.

"Fuck," you whimpered, eyes focused on him between your thighs.

Your vision felt like it was blurring, your breath coming in sharp pants as Matt's tongue continued to drive you wild. But as your body shook along the counter, growing closer to your climax, you wanted more of him. You wanted him to fuck you, wanted to feel him inside of you.

You wanted him to let the Devil loose on you.

"Matty, I need you," you begged.

His mouth came off of you immediately at your words, though he slipped two fingers back inside of you. You watched him lick his lips as if he was savoring the taste of you on them. The sight had you fighting your eyes from rolling back.

“How does it feel, sweetheart,” he purred, pausing as he turned and placed a sharp bite to your inner thigh that had you hissing out, “to be the only one who’s had the Devil?”

Surprise briefly washed over you as his fingers kept their pace, his tongue soothing where he had just bitten. "I–I am?" you asked, legs still trembling.

He grinned at you, his head nodding briefly. "Yes, sweetheart. So how does it feel to finally have me?"

“So good, baby,” you breathed out, gasping when he bit down on your thigh again. "But I–I want all of you."

His lip curled back as he released your thigh from his teeth and slid his fingers from your cunt. Carefully he lowered your legs from his shoulders, rising to his feet as his hands helped you further back onto the counter. You whined in frustration at the loss of him inside of you, Matt only chuckling in return. And then he raised the two fingers he'd had inside of you to his mouth and obscenely licked your arousal from them. Your eyes were glued to the view before you, cunt clenching around nothing as you watched. There was no denying that the black suit did something to you.

When he lowered his hand, both of them landed on his belt buckle. Casually he undid it, the clinking sound of the metal exceptionally loud in his otherwise silent apartment. You swallowed hard, goosebumps raising along your naked skin as you watched him unzip his pants next.

“So when you imagined me fucking you,” he said, breaking the silence, “was I gentle?”

Your focus was on his cock as he slowly slipped his pants and boxers just partway down his legs. He really was going to fuck you in the entire outfit.

“No,” you whispered.

“And do you want me to be?” he asked next.

Your gaze shifted, making its way up to where you imagined his own eyes were behind the mask. Most likely they were focused somewhere along your chest listening for the truth to your words.

“No,” you answered.

Hands landing roughly down on your thighs, he shoved them apart before he pulled you forward to the edge of the counter towards him again. A faint noise of surprise left you before his mouth was on yours, kissing you fiercely. You could taste yourself on him as his tongue eagerly fought its way into your mouth. Your legs wrapped around his hips and bare ass as your hands landed on his back, fingers digging into the solid muscle under that thin shirt. A moment later you felt his cock at your slickened entrance, and then he was sliding all the way in without pause for the first time.

Your mouth broke away from his as a strangled moan flew out of it, your forehead falling forward against his chest. Before he could even ask, you muttered, “Keep going.”

Obliging, Matt didn’t give you a moment to adjust to him as he always had before. Instead he began thrusting into you over and over, his hips rapidly picking up their pace. Your nails dug into him next, clawing at his back through the black shirt as you held on to him. There would be nothing slow and gentle about the way he fucked you this time.

The sounds of his grunts with each pump of his hips fell right into your ears. You shifted your face so you could look up at him, but all you could see beneath the mask were his lips pulled back over his gritted teeth. Your own hips did their best to meet his at the awkward angle, but his were almost vicious in their motions, slamming himself into you over and over. That warm wash of your climax was gradually building to a peak again, easily brought on by the visual of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen actually fucking you and not just a fantasy you’d had in the past.

“You’re enjoying this,” he ground out as his pace picked up. “I can tell. You’re already so close.”

You nodded against his chest, whimpering out an affirmative noise that wasn’t quite a word. His hands slid a bit further back along your thighs, coming to grip your ass. He tugged you in even closer towards him as his hips abruptly sped up, Matt practically assaulting you with his cock. You cried out in a satisfied surprise, burying your face into his shoulder. The sound of skin on skin echoed through the apartment as that mouthwatering familiar sting hit you each time he bottomed out with his thrusts.

His cock like this felt so good that you’d suddenly readjusted just a fraction along his broad shoulder and bit down on the firm muscle below you to keep from filling his apartment with your screams. A deep, rumbling growl fell out of Matt in response to your teeth. That sound drew your peak nearer, so you released him, shifting your mouth a fraction, and bit down again. The noise that came out of him next–a beautiful deep, low groan that he'd never made before–threw you right over and you felt your body beginning to tremble against Matt’s.

“Yes,” he breathed out, encouraging you in that dark voice of the Devil as he continued to grunt roughly with each sharp thrust of his hips. “That’s it, sweetheart.”

Nails digging into his lower back, your teeth still clamped on his shoulder, you reached your orgasm. Your eyes snapped shut as a shuddering moan drew itself out of you, your legs tightening around Matt. That pleasant wash of pleasure raced throughout your body as you came, still clinging to Matt as he continued to fuck you.

It was a few moments before your mind felt like it came back to you, Matt keeping his pace. You released his shoulder from your teeth, raising your head to look up at Matt. His lips were pulled back in something like a ferocious snarl as he focused on you.

“You close, baby?” you asked.

“Yes,” he grunted out, pace unwavering.

You lowered your mouth, focusing on lapping at the skin of his neck and reveling in the feel of the satisfied vibration coming from under your tongue along his throat. Curious, you gently bit down on his pulse point–the sensitive place on his throat that you knew always drew interesting reactions. Matt's hips suddenly jerked sharply into you in response as you did. Your mouth curled into a smile against his skin, tongue darting out to lick the spot you’d bit.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned.

You bit him again, a little harder, in the same spot. A string of curses flew out of his mouth as his hips began to stutter. He was right there, you could feel him teetering on the edge. Releasing his skin from your mouth, you maneuvered yourself beside his ear, so close your lips brushed his skin when you spoke.

"You feel so good," you whispered into his ear. "You make me feel so good, Matthew."

Matt actually growled in response, goosebumps raising along your arms at the sound.

“Cum for me, Devil,” you ordered firmly.

“Shit,” he breathed out, voice strained.

His hips spasmed against yours a few moments later and then you felt him cumming inside of you, a growling moan tearing out of him as he did. You returned to his neck, sucking that particularly sensitive spot into your mouth as you helped to carry him through his release. He grunted roughly as his hips gave a few more thrusts before they stopped.

You placed a kiss to his neck before you sat upright. Matt was breathing heavily, head bowed forward towards you and shoulders heaving. Carefully you raised your hands up, slipping the mask up and off of his face. His eyes were half-lidded, quickly searching for you with the mask off. A sheen of sweat glistened along his forehead, his dark hair mussed from the mask.

You cupped his cheek with a hand, drawing his face towards yours. "Hey," you said quietly with a smile. "There you are, Matty."

He grinned a drowsy, blissed out smile back at you, his eyes landing on your left cheekbone. "Hey, sweetheart."

He exhaled a sharp breath before he pulled his cock out of you, settling you more fully back onto the counter. That's when you really noticed how sore your cunt was–you'd definitely be feeling this tomorrow.

"I can't believe all this time you had a thing for the man in the mask," Matt teased, breath still coming in short.

You blushed, running a hand across your forehead. "I can't believe I just fucked the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen," you responded, eyes briefly darting around you. " In a kitchen."

Matt barked out a laugh as he adjusted himself, pulling his dark pants and boxers back up but not zipping himself into the pants. "If I had known what this did to you, I'd have pulled it out sooner," he teased. "Maybe I'll have to get it out again."

Your heart sped up excitedly at the prospect of fucking him in the black suit again. Matt's gaze fell along your chest, a cheeky grin sliding on his face. He'd definitely caught that increase in your heart.

"I don't think my legs are going to hold me at this point," you said, sliding off the counter.

Matt's hands instinctively darted out to your hips, carefully steadying you when your feet hit the floor. Once you'd regained your balance, you felt more heat creeping up your neck, awkwardness washing over you.

"What's wrong?" he asked, head tilting to the side.

"Nothing," you said, shaking your head and laughing a little nervously. "Just uh, just awkward being the only one completely naked here."

Matt smiled before he bent down and grabbed your clothes from where they’d been tossed onto the floor. He handed them back to you and you muttered a quiet 'thanks' in response.

"You can always stay naked,” he suggested slyly. “And I'll join you in the bedroom just as naked after we get cleaned up.”

Biting your lip, you glanced back at the counter. It was definitely damp. “I should probably scrub your counter after that,” you said.

“Our counter,” Matt corrected firmly. Another cheeky grin slipped onto his face as he grabbed your hand. “And I can take care of it tomorrow morning. I won’t be eating on it anymore tonight.”

He sent you a suggestive wink and you couldn’t fight the giggle that rose up out of you. Your clothes balled in one hand, you followed Matt out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom, your eyes scanning over the back of him in the black suit. You weren’t sure if and when you’d see him in it again and you wanted to commit the real thing to memory over those grainy, blurry photos.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock series

145 notes · View notes

bellaxgiornata · 2 days

Text

You're definitely getting hints at what might be coming up with the Second Angst Arc in some of these installments 🙃

Thank you, friend!! 💖 I'm glad you liked the update, but don't worry, there's still some smut and fluff coming before we start spiraling into angst and problems!!

Falling For the Devil [Part ninety-four: "The Offer"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Karen, Marci, and you go shopping for the upcoming gala.

Karen presents you with an interesting offer.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.] [FFTD Series Masterlist]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut, violence

a/n: So I split this part off of the gala smut installment that will be coming up next because I didn't want the smut to overshadow everything else. But hey, that means more installments! Also, tumblr is messing with my tag lists again so I apologize if they aren't working properly. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @pazii @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @babygirlmurdock @theoraekenslover @wanda-maxamommy @justanerd1

Picking up a fairly simple shoe from the display shelf that had caught your eye, you warily examined the three inch heel on the back of it. You didn't want to get anything that looked too dangerous for you to walk in at the gala this weekend, afraid you'd only end up embarrassing Matt and yourself if you did. Walking in heels certainly wasn’t your strong suit and you weren’t about to pretend that it was just to look a certain way in order to fit in at the event. But while you stood there studying the shoe in your hands, turning it from side to side inspecting it, a bright gold heel appeared in your line of sight. Your eyes immediately widened at the stiletto heel next to the slightly more sensible shoe in your hand.

“I hope you're showing me that as an option for yourself, Marc,” you said, glancing up at her beside you. “Because I would absolutely break my neck wearing those.”

Marci scoffed, rolling her eyes at you. “Oh please,” she replied. “You wouldn't break your neck in these.”

You shot her a pointed look, a brow arching up onto your forehead. Slowly you watched as her expression shifted to one of doubt and uncertainty, her eyes dropping back down to the heel in her hand. Eventually she let out a defeated sigh, the heel lowering back to her side.

“Okay, it's likely you might sprain your ankle in them,” she conceded. “But then Matt could just carry you around all night, right? Do you really mean to tell me you wouldn't want that?”

“I'd rather him carry me around under different, less embarrassing circumstances,” you told her. “Not because I bought six inch heels that are the width of a toothpick under the assumption that I could spend an evening walking in them. Because we all know I can’t.”

“Fine,” Marci relented.

She turned, walking away to put the shoe back on the display shelf from where she’d found it. Your attention returned to the black heel in your hands as you once more contemplated your ability to survive in them for an entire evening. They didn’t look too intimidating–especially after the heel Marci had just suggested.

“What about these?” Karen asked.

Glancing over your shoulder at the sound of her voice, you focused on the deep red heels she was holding up in her hand. They were stunning, you had to admit it. The color wasn't anything too crazy bright so it wouldn't stand out horribly against the black dress you'd already bought earlier today. Plus, they were almost the exact same shade of red as Matt’s Daredevil suit, a detail you figured he'd probably enjoy even if he couldn't see them himself.

“You don't have to get black shoes just because the dress you bought is black,” Karen pointed out. “And the heels on these don't look too scary do they?”

“No,” you answered slowly, setting down the shoe in your hand and turning towards her. “They don't.”

You stepped over to where she’d been standing, reaching a hand out and accepting the heel from her outstretched one before examining it closer. She was right, they truthfully didn't look all that intimidating in comparison to most of the other heels in this high end store. Certainly more manageable than the gold heel Marci had just suggested.

“Ohh, I like those,” Marci said, appearing over your shoulder and eyeing the shoe. “Definitely not too plain. I prefer these over those black ones you were just looking at. Nothing wrong with adding a little bit of color.”

“Okay, then. You’ve both convinced me,” you told them. “I’ll see if they have a pair in my size.”

With the shoe in hand, you made your way over towards a rather bored looking sales associate and asked for your size. Briefly they disappeared into a back room, eventually returning a minute later with the nicest shoe box you'd ever seen in your life. Which probably meant the price on them was something absolutely absurd, but so was the budget Matt had more than graciously given you for your day of shopping today. Something you were still confused about him doing since his sole reasoning was just that he wanted you to enjoy your evening with him at the gala.

Thanking the store associate politely, you took the shoe box and headed back over to the row of chairs near where Karen and Marci were still shopping. But as you neared the pair of them you overheard the loud, almost dramatic sigh that Marci had released. Slowly lowering yourself down into one of the chairs, you raised a brow at her curiously.

“What was that about?” you asked her.

“I have been dying for someone to just bring it up all day–just to touch the topic even once –but no one has. So I guess I’m just going to do it myself,” she answered you. “Are we ever going to address the fact that you’re dating Frank?”

Her eyes pointedly focused on Karen when she’d asked the question. Karen, who had been eyeing a pair of dark green heels, slowly began to set them back down as Marci’s perfect brows shot up onto her forehead questioningly. Without further pause Marci continued on, clearly determined to cover the topic of Karen’s new boyfriend.

“Because I've been waiting all day for the opportunity to talk about it, especially with hearing Foggy tell me all week about the office arguments your love life has been causing,” Marci explained. “I figured when I took the day off of work and joined you both for this girl's shopping trip that we would be all over this topic today but no one has brought it up. Not even once. But I mean, you're dating that Frank. You don’t think we want the details? Like… why are you dating him?”

Your eyes flew over to Karen, watching as her shoulders dropped as if she'd been expecting this subject to be brought up at some point today. Truthfully you were a bit surprised no one had mentioned anything until now as well, but you figured Karen just didn't want to risk being lectured once again. You could only imagine how much she’d had to deal with that from Matt all week already.

Silently you watched as Karen blew out a breath, turning on her heel and making her way over to take a seat in one of the cushioned armchairs beside you, her arms crossed over her chest as she moved. Marci hurried over after her and settled down into the chair on the other side of Karen. With rapt attention she rested her elbows on the armrest and leaned in towards her, clearly waiting for the details.

“Alright, we might as well get this over with,” Karen said flatly. “Yes, I am dating that Frank. No, he's not insane. He's actually incredibly sweet, protective, and has a big heart. And I didn't rush into things with him either, despite what Matt might try to tell you,” she continued, looking back at you and rolling her eyes a little. “There's been something there between us for years but Frank never wanted to explore anything more because he thought me being with him would put me in danger. But he also wasn't entirely at a point where he was ready to open up to someone else in that sort of way after…well…everything that had happened with his family.”

“So does he still…do that?” Marci asked carefully. “You know the uh…activities he’s been known for?”

Karen’s gaze dropped to her hands in her lap, her blonde hair curtaining her face a little. “Yeah, but not to that extent. Matt won't exactly let him–which is for the best, don’t get me wrong,” she added quickly. “But he's an ex-marine who'd been taught how to do exactly that from his time when he was in the military. I can’t exactly blame him for defaulting to what the government trained him to do, especially considering that the people who were on the receiving end honestly kind of deserved it for what they did to his family.”

Marci shifted in her seat, peering around Karen and focusing on you. One of her blonde brows arched up onto her forehead again. “And what're your thoughts on this?” she asked.

You shrugged lightly, both women now focused on you. The heels you'd been about to try on were currently forgotten on the floor by your feet with the conversation that had arisen.

“I mean, we all know how Matt spends some of his evenings,” you answered her. “It’s not like he hasn't done his fair share of similar things to criminals in the name of keeping the city safe. In some ways it would be hypocritical of me to view Frank differently–even if he has, you know, crossed a line that Matt very much refuses to cross.”

“So you just…are indifferent about this?” Marci asked curiously.

“Not exactly, but I don’t really know the guy,” you replied. “I trust Karen’s judgment though. I’d like to think she wouldn’t date someone who truly wasn’t a good person at heart, even if it's difficult for the rest of us to understand. And if this is something that’s been developing slowly over the years, I have no idea what’s happened between the two of them. Plus, I doubt any of us saying anything based on what we know from the media about Frank would actually change her view, because I know that alone wouldn’t make me suddenly walk away from Matt.”

“Exactly,” Karen stated, shooting you a smile. “He’s not the man the media painted him to be. There’s vastly more depth and heart to him. And he’s saved my life multiple times now– and Matt’s recently.”

A bout of nerves unexpectedly broke free in your stomach, a cold fear steadily unfurling in your gut at her words. You knew Matt put himself in danger going out as Daredevil the nights he did, that was nothing new, but hearing that Frank had saved his life recently certainly had an effect on you. Were those two getting involved in something dangerous in the evenings now? Involved in something you knew nothing about? Because you hadn’t heard Matt mention anything specific to you before, though you’d noticed he’d been a little more on edge some nights when he returned home.

“Well,” Marci said, sitting back in her chair, “I guess I’m just glad Fog doesn’t put on some funny little suit and run around at night like your men do. I don’t think I’d be as calm about it if he did.” Her head turned towards Karen as she focused on her again, her eyes narrowing curiously. “Is Frank coming to the gala, by the way? As your date?”

Karen laughed loudly, shaking her head. “No, absolutely not. He wanted nothing to do with it to begin with, and I’m pretty sure Matt would have an aneurysm if he did show his face. He says it’s because of the firm’s image, but I know there’s more to it than that.”

“Guess I’ll have to meet him another time, then,” Marci said in defeat. She looked past Karen, gesturing a hand at the shoebox by your feet. “Are you going to try those on then?”

Remembering the box on the floor, you glanced back down at it, though your mind was truthfully still on the comment Karen had made about Frank having recently saved Matt’s life. That growing fear of yours about Matt finding himself in danger and you being absolutely useless to do anything to help him suddenly hit you hard. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you felt your mood sour as you bent over and removed the lid from off the shoebox. The satin sheen of the dark red heels glistened in the overhead light, but all you could see was Matt in his suit, his body lying motionless somewhere in an alley surrounded by a pool of blood. Your stomach lurched and you bit the inside of your cheek even harder.

Karen leaned over in her chair, gently placing a hand on your forearm. “Hey, are you alright?” she asked softly.

Shifting your attention towards her, you caught the look of concern etched across her features. Behind her, you’d noticed that Marci had already risen to her feet and returned to browsing the selection of heels.

“Yeah,” you answered, your eyes returning to Karen. “It’s just…you mentioned Frank saving Matt’s life recently and it had me thinking about something again.”

Karen’s blue eyes narrowed back at you. “About what?” she asked curiously.

You sighed, once more ignoring the shoes in front of you before sitting back in the chair and focusing on her. “Do you ever feel like maybe you’re…helpless?” you began carefully. “I mean now that you’re dating Frank? Even though I know things are still new between you both.” Shaking your head, you quickly added, “I mean, I know he doesn’t have the same urge to run around like some sort of superhero that Matt often has, but I can’t help but worry that if he ever actually needed help–or was in trouble or something–that I couldn't do anything. I haven’t been able to shake this fear that I just…wouldn’t be able to help him, you know? Because I'm not like him. I can't do what he does. I can’t really do anything.”

Karen’s head tilted a little to the side, something contemplative reflecting in her eyes as she studied you in silence for a moment. You wondered if she was going to tell you that you were being ridiculous until she finally spoke.

“No, I’ve definitely felt helpless before,” she answered softly. “Even before dating Frank. And I’ve certainly had it cross my mind that being with him could land me in the middle of something dangerous. Unlike Matt, he doesn’t exactly hide who he is when he goes out and does his thing. But that’s actually why I’ve had him training me in some self-defense and–” she paused, her eyes darting over to Marci who was clearly still very ignorant of this entire conversation, “–taking me to a shooting range lately. To practice.”

Surprise washed over you at her words. So Frank had been training her? To fight and shoot guns?

“You know,” she continued slowly, her eyes still carefully studying you, “if you want, I could see if he’d be willing to teach you, too. If it would make you feel a little better, I mean. Make you feel a little safer or more capable or whatever. I’m sure Frank wouldn’t mind.”

A nervous laugh slipped out of your mouth before you immediately cut it off, shaking your head firmly at the mere suggestion. There was no way in hell Matt would ever be okay with you doing that. If anyone was going to teach you self-defense, it would be him. Though, he’d only taught you some very basic things before he’d stopped, saying that you didn’t need to learn anything further. Because he always claimed that he’d be there to keep you safe–a promise you knew he couldn’t realistically keep. And one that completely ignored your fear about keeping him safe.

“Yeah, I really don’t think Matt would like that,” you told her. “He’s afraid of me getting too close to Frank for some reason. Doesn’t want to risk me getting hurt or something, I’m not sure. But I know Frank teaching me how to tie my damn shoe would start a fight. Hell, me breathing the same air in the same room as Frank would probably start a fight between us. One I’m not sure I need to deal with.”

Karen shrugged lightly in response before rising up out of her chair. “He doesn’t exactly have to know,” she pointed out. “At least, not at first. It’s not like Frank and I can’t keep a secret if it would make you feel better. I can’t imagine Matt would be all that mad at you for learning how to take care of yourself a little more after it's already happened. But it’s entirely up to you. I’m just throwing the offer out there.”

Your gaze dropped down to the dark red heels before you. The image of Matt's lifeless and bloody body in his suit laying all alone in an alley returned to your mind. You winced at the mental image.

“Thanks, Karen,” you replied, eyes still on the heels in the box. “I’ll uh, keep the offer in mind, I guess.”

#matt murdock x reader

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bellaxgiornata · 2 days

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I know, he's barely been here and he's already causing problems 🤣

Hopefully you enjoy that installment! It's coming up next and it's a longer one which should hopefully make up for how short this one was!