#daredevil drabble

[lovelybucky1]

matt is the worst at being an ex boyfriend. maybe you’re neighbors, maybe you work together, maybe you go to the same gym. whatever the case may be, you can’t stop from seeing each other, despite the relationship having ended.

you’re both mature adults so you smile through polite conversation whenever you see him. you banter back and forth, trading compliments that are too specific for a friendly interaction, and stand far too close together. its all too relationshippy for two people who broke up.

no matter how funny, charming, kind, or attractive matt is, he still was a bad boyfriend. every time you see him, you have to remind yourself that you broke up with him for a reason.

those reasons seem inconsequential when his hands are on you, he’s brushing your hair out of your face, and pressing his lips to yours. you forget all about his lies and all those nights spent sneaking around when his teeth sink into your neck and your nails into his back.

he says your name like a prayer, like a promise of a good life if you just gave him another chance. maybe you don’t have enough willpower to resist him, but you know getting back together with him will ruin you.

[devilfic]

More matt content?

I was thinking, Matt’s reaction towards reader wearing something real cute (like a beautiful red dress) or anything idk-

My mind is plastered with this man, god-

pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader. cw: fluff, established relationship, suggestive content. words: 334.

Matt pinches fabric—satin, he’s certain, silk satin—unable to hide the smile creeping up on him. He can feel where the sleeve ends and your skin begins, his fingers sneaking along the hem to paint the picture, “Did I buy this?”

You laugh and the fabric of your sleeve slips from between his fingers, “Yeah. You like it?”

It helps that you trust him, even more that you’ve been lovers for months, because when his hand passes over your chest to feel for the neckline, his ears burn. His fingers travel over the peaks and valleys and wonder of what is left in their wake. Telling by the hitch in your breath, you must feel the same.

“What color is it?”

“Crimson.”

“So we’ll match.” Matt is stroking down your front now, feeling for the length.

“Of course. What kind of partner would I be if I let you embarrass yourself in public like that?”

His head tilts to the side. He laughs once, wetting his lips to spite the urge to kiss your arrogant mouth, “Oh, sure. If anyone’s to blame for the poor color coordination, it’s me.” He feels you shrug as his hand travels back up to settle on the back of your neck. He takes the opportunity to pull you in for a kiss anyway, “I love it. You’re stunning.”

"You're not so bad yourself, Murdock," you trace his chin with your thumb, "glad you like it, though. You weren’t a fan of that velvet number from our last date night.”

“Yeah, no, this is much better… although,” his fingers slip around your waist and feel up your back, pausing with his hand at the middle of your spine, “I don’t imagine you’ll be wearing it long.”

“No ripping,” you nip his nose and his nostrils flare at a distant, heated memory, “replacing this will be expensive.“

Being cheeky, Matt tugs you into him without warning and you grab at his lapel to steady yourself, “What can I rip?”

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

FMSOYS Matt Murdock/Daredevil Masterlist

my main masterlist

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. (that includes not allowing my manips to be used on TikTok, Instagram, Pinterest, etc.)

I have created an AO3 and am slowly beginning the process of sharing my old fics there as well. Tumblr and AO3 are currently the only places I'm posting my works.

PLEASE ONLY INTERACT WITH FICS MARKED 18+/SMUT IF YOUR AGE IS IN YOUR BIO/PINNED OR I WILL BLOCK YOU. Thanks!*

★ Series

Judex, Judicum, Infantem (Frank x Reader x Matt)[In Progress]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 (coming soon)

Fight Club (Smut/18+, Angst, Fluff)

Original | Frank's Version (Alt Ending, Matt x Reader x Frank)

Take What You Need(Smut/18+, Angst) 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

★ One Shots

Songbird(Angst)

Drive (Smut/18+)

Five Years(Frank Castle x Matt Murdock)

It's Hard to Dance With the Devil On Your Back(Fluff)

Who We Are and Who We Want to Be (Angst/Comfort)

A Hell's Kitchen Christmas(Fluff)

Rate My Professor(Smut/18+)

A Random Thursday (Fluff)

★ Drabbles and Blurbs

General Matt HCs

Matt Overstimulating Reader (SMUT/18+)

Matt x Tattoo Reader

Matt When You're on Your Period

★ Manips

Frank and Matt on a Roof

★ Moodboards

Professor Murdock Moodboard

Eloping With Matt Moodboard

★ Matt GIFs can be found on my other blog FMSOYS

Matt Murdock Tag List: @xxdrixx, @sexyvixen7

[traveller-of-the-knight]

Not me imagining Jake, Matt and Frank forming a new team and living together and hanging out with Karen and Foggy and Jessica and beating bad guys and having many emotional venerable moments and hugs and dancing to calm themselves down for the stress of saving Manhattan and going on trips and get drunk and stupid together and do everything and risk their lives for eachother and and and MY BABIES!!!

[chvoswxtch]

Ok I've been trying to figure out what I wanted to request so of course I'm trying to get these in on the last day.

So I'm thinking Red (but if you're more inspired by Midnights, I wouldn't complain) for our Saint Matthew with the lyrics

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you

from The Night We Met by Lord Huron.

Idk I'm feeling like I want the pain!

ughhhhh I fucking love this song so much and I never thought about it before but this is definitely a saint matthew song

I went with red (I feel like it hurts more when it's shorter) and packed in all the angst and pain I could manage in a few short sad words 💔

drabble below the cut

the night we met (matt's version)

I had all and then most of you / some and now none of you

It had all been so perfect, until Matt let you slip through his fingers like delicate sand through the eye of an hourglass. He hadn’t been paying attention to anything but his own distorted and haunted reflection. He realized too late that your time had run out, and that you weren’t willing to start over again. In the midst of his self righteous crusade, he missed that you had already restarted the hour a thousand times already.

And with every grain of sand that fell, a piece of you was lost along with it.

He was always pushing it. Just one more rescheduled dinner to win this case. Just one more sleepless night alone in bed to bust this drug trafficking ring. Matt was constantly bargaining, trading recycled apologies and empty promises for just a little more time. In the back of his mind he knew that eventually, time would run out.

He just never thought it would be tonight.

He didn’t think he’d be able to tell from three blocks away that every trace of you, every tangible shred of evidence that you had been there, would be gone. That the apartment would feel colder without the warmth of your affection. That his pillow would smell like stale fabric instead of your apple scented shampoo. That there would be nothing to sleep next to tonight except the consequences of his own mistakes. That the only thing he could taste of you was the saltwater that stained the threshold in front of the door where you had finally reached the limit he had pushed you away to.

Matt wished he could’ve done it all differently.

He wished he could go back to the night you met.

Maybe he would’ve saved you from himself.

Or maybe he would’ve let you save him.

[izgnanik-a]

I woke out of a fever dream and immediately had this thought so here it is—

How the original trio would react to you having your period and having an accident

don’t like? don’t read.

Matt would know something was up from the get-go. This man can literally feel the way you vibrate differently. He’ll feel the change in body temperature from you, almost like taking on a fever but not quite hot enough to complain. Always burning off energy too quickly to refill with snacks, he’d be sure to have them on hand around the apartment when you’re craving salty or sweet treats. He has a plethora of things for you that you didn’t even ask him to get; the tea you like to drink before and after to help with cramps, a heating pad that won’t burn your stomach, and just takes time from his work to give you the comfort and service you need.

Matt isn’t a stranger to blood. He’s a crime fighter, he’s always causing his own pain if he isn’t careful enough. So waking up to you shamefully telling him you got blood on the sill sheets is no problem. He puts on a new sheet while you profusely apologize while you change your clothes, and fall back into bed with open arms, kissing you to sleep, assuring that he doesn’t care. Sheets can always be replaced.

Foggy would have your period tracked. He’s the type to even have your period synced with his phone, telling you when you’re going to expect it and when you’re entering each phase. At first it was weird, but when you’d missed a period without noticing, he was the first to say something. He secretly keeps note of your behavior and cravings, writing down your symptoms that you complain about and he’s down to five warning symptoms to absently keep an eye on which each phase. Like Matt, he buys and does things in secret for you, figuring “you’re going to be in your peak soon, you’ll wanna go out and show off because you feel good” and books a fancy restaurant to take all the photos of you a week after your period.

Foggy isn’t a fan of blood but he will do it for you. He’ll grimace (he doesn’t realize he’s doing it) his way through cleaning bloody sheets and clothes, and kiss you in assurance that he’s fine with doing this for you. He’s interested in the things you do, so he’ll listen to you explained how period cups and disks work, the difference between materials, and their capacity. He’ll also do his own research and watch different videos on each brand, and send them to you to learn the best.

Karen would be in-sync with you, or a few days behind. She’s already packed the apartment with double the things that comfort both you and her, and has them splayed out so it’s in reach. She understands 100% the discomfort, so she’ll have a schedule for you the moment you wake up. She has tea for you because she knows the raspberry leaf with help you with your uterine lining and cramping, she has dark chocolate for you because not only is it a treat but it’s better for you. She doubles on electrolyte water, and the moment it hits the both of you at the same time — day off, lying in bed with you, sleeping it off. No excuses.

Karen is a planner so the moment you call her from the bathroom with a “I bled through”, she’s either giving you her own pair of pants from the car or she’s giving you her sweater to cover yourself so you can go home. She tries to keep an emergency pack on her, because bleeding through period products and underwear happens sometimes. She’ll carry heavier products for you if you’re experiencing heavy flow, or she’ll just keep dark jeans and underwear in the car.

Fic master list

[egotisticaleverything]

College!Matt Murdock who’s just so enamoured with you he physically can’t think straight when you’re around. Even the smell that lingers around after you leave a room is enough to drive him crazy. One night after you invite him over to your dorm to “study” and he just can’t seem to focus it clicks for you. Yet you keep going with your “study”, pretending that you have no idea that the small touches you exchange are driving him insane.

Soon enough you end up with him under you, slowly leading him through it. He’s awestruck at how good you make him feel, how you want him just as much as he wanted you. He’s determined to repay the favour. That’s when he nervously suggests something-

“I wanna make you feel good- I uh-… can I—? Do you wanna sit on my face..-?” -oh my god

He’s so innocent about it, he’s so precious, so desperate to please you. Of course your answer is yes. I mean, how could you say no to his pretty little face? God- and when you finally get to it, you look down as you’re hovering above him and have to hold back a moan at the sight. You’d never seen a man this desperate, this needy, this pathetic for you in your entire life. Oh and how he lives up to what you wanted and more.

As soon as his mouth came into contact with your pussy he was lapping at it, devouring it and practically drowning in it like it was his saving grace. Like he was searching for some sort of salvation. It was like he was trying to drag your soul out of you as he went. It was messy, desperate, sinful. But oh so good.

“Oh- oh there you go alter boy… fuck..”

He was practically pawing at your thighs like a desperate puppy as he tried to pull you impossibly closer to him, more of your weight- not just more. All of it. He wanted you to sit. Completely fucking suffocate him if you could. He needed all of you. He wanted nothing but you. He needed nothing but you. That’s all he could ask for, all he could beg for.

You.

You.

You.

As soon as he comes up after you’re done he holds you close and asks in the sweetest most sincere, loving voice,

“Did I do good?”

[mcrdvcks]

You knew something was wrong the moment you heard the faint scraping against the window—softer than usual, cautious, almost like he was trying not to disturb you.

Pushing aside your laptop, you crossed quickly to the window and slid it open, heart dropping when you saw him perched precariously on the fire escape.

“Matt,” you whispered, half scolding, half worried, reaching out immediately to steady him. “What happened?”

“Rough night,” he grunted softly, shifting slightly to ease through the window. He winced, favoring his left side as you guided him carefully into the apartment.

“You always say it’s a rough night,” you murmured, gently pulling him toward the couch. “Come sit. Let me see.”

He sat obediently, a faint smile curving the corners of his lips despite his discomfort. He tilted his head slightly as he listened to you move around, gathering medical supplies from the bathroom cabinet.

“You don’t have to—” he started softly.

“Too late,” you interrupted firmly, settling beside him and carefully peeling away the torn fabric from his torso, exposing the nasty bruises beneath. A sharp breath caught in your throat, eyes softening instantly. “Matt…”

“It looks worse than it feels,” he assured quietly, his hand brushing yours comfortingly.

“Why do you insist on lying when we both know that’s not true?” you muttered, gently applying antiseptic to the cuts scattered across his ribs. He hissed softly, muscles tensing under your touch.

“Occupational hazard,” Matt said dryly.

“You know,” you teased lightly, trying to distract both him and yourself from the sharp pang of worry in your chest, “you’re lucky I’m here. I’m basically your personal medic.”

“Hmm,” he hummed softly, a faint smile tugging at his mouth, “I’m definitely lucky.”

You paused, biting your lip thoughtfully. Carefully placing a small bandage across a deeper scrape on his shoulder, you glanced up into his face. “You know what would heal these injuries faster?”

Matt’s head tilted curiously, amusement flickering in his weary expression. “Oh?”

“Kisses,” you declared confidently, your voice mock-serious. “Kisses are my superpower.”

He chuckled, a soft, warm sound that relaxed the tension in his shoulders, visibly easing him despite his discomfort. But his tone quickly shifted, becoming unexpectedly solemn. “Well, then by all means. I trust you implicitly, doctor.”

You laughed softly, playing along as you leaned forward and gently kissed a bruise just below his collarbone, murmuring teasingly, “See? Practically healed already.”

Matt reached up, fingertips grazing your chin gently, tipping your face toward him. His voice was low, genuine now, wrapped warmly around your heart. “Don’t stop. It’s definitely working.”

You blinked slowly, pulse skipping at his intensity, but held onto the playful air between you. Leaning forward again, you pressed another soft kiss near his shoulder, letting your lips linger gently. “Better?”

“Much,” he whispered roughly, his voice catching slightly.

“Hmm,” you hummed, emboldened, trailing kisses carefully up his neck, pausing to murmur against his skin, “This one might need extra attention.”

Matt’s breath stilled beneath you, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around your wrist. His voice was a tender, gravelly whisper in your ear, “Whatever you think best.”

You paused, your heart beating faster at the vulnerable sincerity hidden beneath his playfulness. Pulling back slightly to look into his face, you brushed your fingertips softly over his cheek, careful of the bruises there. “Matt,” you murmured softly, your voice gentle, serious now, “be careful. Please.”

His expression softened, and he gently lifted your hand, pressing your fingertips to his lips, murmuring earnestly, “I promise.”

“Good,” you whispered, warmth flushing your cheeks at his touch. After a quiet moment, you leaned forward again, pressing your lips softly to his, sweet and lingering, heart fluttering when he smiled gently into the kiss.

When you pulled back slightly, he sighed contentedly, tilting his head down as if savoring the feeling. “Definitely your superpower.”

You laughed softly, leaning your forehead against his. “Glad it works.”

“More than you know,” he whispered, voice full of warmth, thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “Don’t ever stop.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[halfway-happyyy]

soft frank things

(because as always, my brain only operates in two modes with this man)

the man loves a slow dance

will literally make time for it whenever he can, whether there is music playing or not

he loves to see you in his clothing

even going so far as to insist that when you guys have the odd day off together, you either spend it entirely nude, or in one of his oversized shirts or sweaters

carries a picture of you everywhere he goes. the one tucked on the inside of his wallet right now is so tattered and worn, you can hardly tell it's of you anymore. he still swears it's his favourite

is an avid cook. he'd gotten out of it the last couple of years, on account of having no one to do it for, but nothing makes him more content than figuring out what you're craving from one day to the next, and whipping it up for you

one of his favourite ways to cuddle with you (apart from naked spooning) is to put on an old movie, and settle in for the night. (covers are not usually needed because the man runs hot.)

we've discussed it a bit before, but he loves it when you ask him to read to you

stargazing is hard to come by in new york city because of the light pollution, so on nights when it's really clear, he'll drive the two hours to minnewaska park just to be able to catch a glimpse of some with you

feels comfortable sharing anecdotes of his past with you. it doesn't happen often, but you're really the only person he goes to when he wants to talk about maria and the kids

he loves to build you things. whether it's a shelf set from ikea ("kid- what on earth possessed you to buy this, and why, for the love of god, do the instructions read like ancient heiroglyphics?") or a bird house you've had your eye on, he's your guy, and he's always more than happy to help

thrifting. the man loves a good thrift session. your home is filled with trinkets, and artwork, and random vinyls you two have found over the years

the man does not tolerate any negative self-talk from you. all he has to do is give you a look when you get going, and the words fizzle in your throat. "cut that shit out, kid. no one talks about my best friend like that."

the man is very protective of you. like that one time you forgot to get a first aid kit for your new car, and when you assured him you didn't think it was necessary he "broke into" it to put one in the glove compartment, and one in the trunk

animals. they love frank. dogs, cats, you name it, they're going to cuddle with him

he detests going to bed angry. so even if you've spent the evening in separate rooms, he always comes to find you when it's time to go to bed. "c'mon kid, lets leave the bullshit out here, hm? come to bed."

sometimes he worries he's too protective of you, but at the end of the day, he just hopes that when he's around, you always feel safe. that you know you always have someone you can talk to, to vent to, and to love

[lovelybucky1]

thinking about being between frank and matt, caught up in their conflicting personalities and the dynamic that comes with it.

matt is so mean, such a tease. he’s constantly playing with you, riling you up just to deny you. he loves how you squirm, how you pout up at him when he tells you no. you’ll beg and beg and he’ll eventually give in, but only after you work for it.

“awh, sweetheart, you think you’re gonna cum tonight? you’re gonna have to convince me if you want that.”

frank is the opposite. he’s such a giver and his soft spot for you is way too big to keep you wanting for anything. you say the word and he’s giving you whatever you want until you can’t take it anymore. you’re his good girl and he can’t resist the way you bat your eyelashes and say his name in that tone. he’s weak when it comes to you.

“ya look so sweet sucking my thumb like this, baby. such a good girl for me.”

or maybe matt is the softie, giving in to your every desire. you want to go out to dinner? reservations are at eight. you want a new pair of shoes? a shiny pair of red bottoms are waiting for you on your bed. you want matt to eat you out? he’ll lay between your thighs and pleasure you until his jaw aches.

“when i get home, i want you wearing that new set i bought you. get that toy out too, your favorite one.”

maybe frank is the strict disciplinarian who will put you over his knee if you get a bit too mouthy with them. he’ll grip your jaw and make you look him in the eye when you misbehave. you hate it when you get in trouble with frank.

“who’re you talkin’ to like that, huh? cause you sure as shit don’t talk back to me like that.”

they bicker back and forth on the best way to treat their girl. matt and frank will never see eye to eye on anything, especially when it comes to you.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

➤All the places that Matt Murdock loves to fuck you-

A/n: Matt is such a cutie

Matt Murdock isn’t a man who allows himself many indulgences. His life is filled with shadows, sacrifice, and the weight of the city pressing down on him. But when it comes to you—the quiet, kind-hearted nurse who’s softer than anyone in his world should be—he finds himself craving every part of you.

And while you turn warm so easily,squeaking under his touch, Matt learns quickly that once he gets you alone, there’s a fire beneath that shyness.

A fire only he gets to stoke.

1. His Apartment – Against the Bookshelf

✨:

It started innocently enough.

You had come over to check on his injuries—again. Despite knowing he heals fast, you had been adamant about making sure he wasn’t reckless.

Matt had been sitting on the edge of his couch, listening to your heartbeat flutter as you pressed gentle fingers to his ribs.

“You don’t have to—”

“Shut up and let me do this, Murdock,” you had mumbled, heart rate spiking

He smirked.

And then, something shifted.

Maybe it was the way your fingers lingered too long against his skin.

Maybe it was the way his own hands itched to touch you, to map out every inch of the woman who had become his quiet salvation.

Either way, the next thing you knew—Matt had pinned you against the bookshelf, lips devouring yours.

You had gasped, hands gripping his shoulders, and the sound had destroyed him.

He had lifted you easily—one hand beneath your thigh, the other bracing against the shelf behind you. The books dug into your back, but you didn’t care. Not when Matt was kissing you like that.

Desperate. Rough.

Like he had been starving for you.

And by the time you were both done, you were breathless, shaken, and laughing softly when he finally let you back down on shaky legs.

You two didn’t even bother fixing the books that had fallen to the floor.

2. Your Bedroom – With the Windows Open

✨:

Your apartment was small but warm—much like you.

And Matt had fallen in love with it.

Not just because it smelled like vanilla and the faintest hint of antiseptic, or because you had soft blankets everywhere (which he would never admit he loved).

No.

He loved it because it was yours.

And when he was in your bed, tangled in sheets that smelled like you, listening to you whisper his name, he felt like he could breathe.

One night, with the windows cracked open, letting the cool night air in, he had taken his time with you.

Letting his hands trace every inch of you soft, warm skin.Letting his mouth memorize every spot that made you whimper.

Letting you fall apart beneath him, whispering his name like a prayer.

And when you came apart on his fingers, your voice barely above a breath—the city outside had disappeared.

Because in that moment, it was just you and him.

3. His Office – On His Desk

✨:

It was a mistake.

You both knew it the second you walked in, wearing that damn dress.

Foggy had already gone home for the night. Karen had left too. It was just you both—you had stopped by to drop off something he had forgotten at your place.

But the second he heard your heartbeat spike—the second he smelled the faint scent of your shampoo, your perfume, the lingering traces of something sweet on your lips and the rustle of the fabric of your dress.

He had lost all control.

You had barely set down the folder before Matt had you pressed against his desk, your hands gripping his tie as you gasped into his mouth.

“Matt—”

“Tell me to stop,” he had murmured against your skin, trailing kisses down your neck, listening to the way your pulse fluttered.

You hadn’t.

Not when he had lifted you onto the desk, pushing papers aside.

Not when he had slid his hands beneath your dress, pulling a moan from your lips as his fingers brushed your core through your panties.

Not when he had taken you apart right there, in the very office where he fought so hard to be the “good man.”

Because around you—he didn’t always want to be good.

He just wanted you

4. The Rooftop – Under the Stars

✨:

You had never been a fan of rooftops.

They made you nervous, made you feel like one wrong step would send you plummeting.

But when Matt had pulled you up there one night, promising he wouldn’t let you fall, you had followed.

And somehow, sitting there with him, the city below wasn’t so scary.

You had leaned into his side, warm beneath his touch, whispering about your day, his scars, the things you two never told anyone else.

And maybe it was the intimacy of the moment.

Or maybe it was just Matt Murdock, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing in the world worth touching.

Because suddenly—his lips were on yours.

Slow. Gentle.

Not like before—not rough, not desperate.

But like a man who had finally come home.

And there, under the stars, with nothing but the wind against both of your skin and the city buzzing beneath you both, Matt made love to you like you were something sacred.

And for once, you believed him.

5. The Church – When it Shouldn’t Have happened

✨:

It had been wrong.

So very, very wrong.

Matt had been struggling—torn between his faith, his demons, his feelings for you.

And you had just wanted to comfort him.

But when he had pulled you into the dimly lit confessional, hands gripping your waist, breath hot against your ear, you had known that you both weren’t going to stop.

And you hadn’t.

He had touched you like he was searching for salvation.

Matt Murdock is not an easy man to love.

But you love him anyways. You love his scars, his sins, the way he worships you when no one is watching.

And no matter where you two are—

His apartment.

Your bed.

His office.

A rooftop.

Even a place that was meant for prayers, not sins.

You will always comes back to him.

And Matt?

Matt always lets you.

Because he loves you, more than life it's self.

[ghoulishhx]

hii how ya doin! idk if anyone's asked for this yet but I'd LOVE to see nr 8 from the smut prompt list with frank!!

much much love from vienna, big fan of your work!! 🖤

8.) oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck

heyy bestiee, im so glad you like my work mwah im obsessed with you. i really hope you like this one too!!

edit: my dumbass had this tagged as number 4 this whole time when it is actually number 8, I'm sorry for the potential confusion LMAO

18+ MDNI !!

My Masterlist!

──── ୨୧ ────

Pairing: Frank Castle x FemVigilante!Reader

Content Warning: SMUTTT, enemies to lovers type beat, fingering, squirting, oral (m!recieving), doggyy, kinda rough frank, dirty talk, praise, spanking, a little slappin' and whatnot, swearing, mutual pining

Wordcount: 3.5k

──── ୨୧ ────

✦ be quiet

“For fuck sake, what are you doing here, Castle?” you groan, noticing the dark figure in the corner of the barely lit room as soon as you enter through the fire escape. You hear him let out a deep sigh, acknowledging your presence as he turns on his heel to meet your eyes. The annoyance oozing out of his stark, chiseled features. Nostrils flaring, lips turning white from strain. As if this night couldn’t get any worse, you think to yourself.

“What am I doing here?” he lets out a laugh, as if your question was insulting. “You should be askin’ yourself that sweetheart, not me. This is my case, I don’ need to be babysitting your ass all night. Hurry on home doll, I got it from here.” you scoff at the patronising tone his words carried, anger boiling your blood as you stand staring at him dumbfounded. 

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart, Frank,” you spit at him, chest heaving with annoyance. God, did Frank Castle know how to push your buttons. “You know damn well I work this territory, scurry back off to Hell’s Kitchen before I drag you there myself.” you puff your chest out subconsciously like a fucking bird, making yourself appear big and scary when in fact the man you were trying to intimidate stood over a foot taller than you.

“Nice try darlin’,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he darkly chuckles at your feeble attempt to get him to back off. “You don’t scare me in the slightest.” He leans down, whispering in your ear. The feeling of his breath hot on your neck, causing goosebumps to erupt across the back of your neck. You take a deep breath, inhaling his scent. A mix of gunpowder and whiskey sits present in your nose and you let out a shaky breath. 

Why the fuck, how the fuck is he eliciting this reaction from you? You resent this man, the way he’d always show up in your fights, finishing your jobs with that cocky smirk across his face that drove you insane. Of course it was always bound to happen, New York is a huge city with an even huger crime rate, two vigilantes bumping into each other and sticking their noses in the other’s work is expected. But it was almost every time you were on patrol, it would always end with you and Frank at each other’s throats. You started to think he was doing it on purpose, intentionally trying to rile you up, feeding off of your uncontrollable rage. 

“Cat got ya tongue, doll?” he teases you, noticing the way your face instantly grew red at the sudden close proximity between you both.

“Shut up.” you state between gritted teeth, moving your head from his, avoiding his eyes. He chuckles, and from the corner of your eye you watch him look you up and down, the action so quick you believed you imagined it. 

“Y’know, the more we bump into each other like this.. I’m startin’ to think you’re obsessed with me or somethin’ angel.” he inches closer to you, his face so close to yours, making your heart beat so hard out of your chest you’re worried you might have a heart attack. 

“You wish Castle, dream on.” you scoff, finally turning your eyes back to his, matching his intense gaze. His pupils are blown with an unrecognisable emotion, the sight making a wave of arousal crash through you.

“Maybe I do.. Listen I-”

He’s cut off by the sound of boots outside the door of the apartment you had both snuck into. You pull away from each other as you glance towards the fire escape, thinking to yourself you could make it to the window in time before the footsteps come through the door. Before you have a chance to bolt for the exit, you feel yourself being dragged from behind, Frank’s large rough hand covering your mouth, stifling the noises as he drags you both into the closet behind you both. 

“What the fuck Frank?” you hiss, grabbing his hand from your mouth and pushing it back into him, keeping your volume low knowing you two were no longer alone.

“Shh.. won’t ya shut ya fuckin’ mouth for once. They’re coming in.” he whispers back as you hear the door to the apartment swing open. You hear at least 3 men come into the room, slurring their words and laughing amongst themselves heartily. They were obviously intoxicated. Your source told you tonight would be the best chance to hit the place as there was absolutely no way anyone would be in. ‘Thanks a lot Lieberman, last time I took your word’, you think to yourself. 

Only now do you realise how close you are to Frank, barely inches apart from one another, your chests pushed together, his hands either side of your head resting on the closet behind you, trapping you in. You feel his chest heave against yours, your breathing deep and synced with each other. He absentmindedly takes one of his hands from the side of your cheek, and brushes your hair out of your face. You two have never been as close to one another as you are now, and you take the time to analyse all of the features on his face. His furrowed brows and dark eyes staring deep into your own, his freshly shaven face enhancing his jaw line, his nose. You can’t help but let your eyes travel all over his features, taking them all in, memorising every single bump and crevice. He does the exact same, staring you down with no shame. You two were always arguing and he never allowed himself to realise how gorgeous you were, those soft plump lips, the fullness of your cheeks. His eyes rest on your lips, imagining what they taste like, how they would feel against his own. 

Without thinking, he closes the gap between you both, giving in to his desire to have you. You reciprocate, instantly becoming addicted to his taste and touch. He moves his hands down to your hips, gripping them so intensely you’re sure they will be bruised by morning. He pushes himself into you even closer and you feel his hard bulge through his jeans rubbing into you. Moving his lips from your mouth to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin, you can’t help but let out a small moan. Looking up at you, he takes one hand from your waist and wraps it around your mouth.

“Ya gotta be quiet baby, you think you can do that f’me?” he lowly whispers, his words deepened with arousal. You desperately nod your head. “Good girl.”

He carries on the assault of your neck with his rough hand clamped around your mouth, subduing any noises that attempted to escape. His free hand roams all over your body, feeling your curves through your latex purple and black suit, hungrily grabbing at you. You reach down to palm his bulge, the need for him possessing you. You hear his breath deepen as he pants into your neck at the sensation. 

“God, you don’t know what you do to me when I see you in this.” he grips at the material of your latex suit as his hand travels to your breast. “Been dyin’ to know what you feel like.. Taste like..” he trails off as he resumes kissing your neck. You moan into his hand, grinding yourself into his crotch. If you told yourself 10 minutes ago you would both be in this situation, you would’ve laughed. He was your least favourite person on earth, the mere thought of him being in your proximity other than right now made your skin crawl. That's probably why this felt so good, all that pent up emotion for one and other coming undone through each of your touches. 

All patience leaves your body in a flash, and you’re reaching down to unbuckle his belt, your movements fast but quiet, the knowledge of the three men outside the closet door mere meters away is prevalent in your mind, but you know if you can’t have Frank now you might explode from horniness. He welcomes your gesture as he begins slipping off your body suit in return, slowly peeling the fabric from your body to expose your chest and the tiny lacy bra covering your pebbled nipples. A low groan emerges from his throat at the sight, as he takes you in.

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous doll, shame ya never gave me the chance to tell ya earlier, always too busy runnin’ that bratty mouth off at me.” he whispers, flashing you his signature cocky grin in the dark. You roll your eyes and begin to offer him a remark back but you’re interrupted with the feel of his tongue swirling around your nipple, taking the bud in between his teeth and biting softly, making you jerk in a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure. You have to hold your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming out his name. You buck your hips into his, chasing any sense of friction. He notices your pleas of desperation, moving one of his hands down to your panties. “Fuckin’ hell doll, you’re fuckin’ soaked.. All f’me?” he softly utters in your ear, rubbing his fingers through your folds and drenched underwear.

“Only you Frank, fuck please fucking touch me.” you hush, surprised at the words coming out of your mouth. You can’t lie to yourself anymore, you’ve wanted him this entire time. As much as you hated him, you wanted him just as bad. Frank pushes the soaked garment to the side, coming into contact with your bare pussy. His calloused fingers run over your engorged clit and you almost cum instantly. The air in the closet was thick and electrified, the energy emitting from both of your bodies was intense, the movement of your bodies so close together was addicting. He begins flicking at the bundle of nerves, as your knees begin to buckle beneath you. It takes every bit of power you can muster to stay quiet, his skilled fingers bringing you closer and closer to the edge with every swipe. He replaces his fingers with his thumb, slipping the now free digits to your entrance, rimming the opening with his middle and index. 

“Shh doll, really gonna need ya to shut up now ok? Even though all I want is to hear ya scream my name, that can wait till later.” he gives you a quick wink as he enters you with his fingers, capturing your gasps and whines with his mouth, shoving his tongue deep into your face as the two muscles dance among one another, collecting each others’ tastes. He pumps in and out of you in a bruising pace, pushing so perfectly against your songy spot. You feel your release around the corner, about to take over you until you hear a voice outside the closet.

“You guys hear that? Someone in here?”

You and Frank freeze, his fingers still inside you as he fulls his mouth from your tit, putting his hand back over your mouth, staring you down with his lust blown pupils. You stay like this for a few minutes while you hear the men shuffling around outside the closet. He begins slowly pumping his fingers inside of you again, slyly smirking as he watches you go insane. You glare at him, shooting daggers into him as he torments you, knowing the effect he has over you. 

“Nah man I think you’re goin’ insane, ain’t no one here but us.”

Your shoulders drop, visibly relieved you weren’t caught but that was too damn close. Frank begins the pace, harder and more intense this time and its mere seconds before you cum around him, your walls clamping around his fingers like a vice.

“That's it doll, let it all out. Good fuckin’ girl, stayin’ so quiet f’me.” your eyes roll to the back of your head and knees threaten to give out beneath you, but his strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you up before you crash into the wood beneath you. Despite cumming as hard as you ever have before moments ago, your arousal crashes through you, watching him remove his fingers from your pussy and take them into his mouth, sucking your release from his digits, revelling in the taste. You start reaching down to give him attention too. He can’t help but throw his head back as you move to your knees as carefully as possible to not make noise or rock the closet too much. Your face is met with his cock, impossibly thick and long, leaking pre-cum from the tip. You almost drool at the sight, and wonder how on earth it will fit inside you. You place your tongue on his tip, collecting the juices leaving his member, the salt making you salivate more. You begin bobbing your head slowly, taking as much of him in as you can. You can’t get enough as your eyes well with tears not even being halfway down. He takes his hands and laces his fingers through your hair, gripping harshly as he makes a fist with your hair. Frank begins guiding your head up and down his length, jaw slack and mouth agape at the feeling of your hot mouth around him.

“Just like that sweetheart, fuck just like that..” he darkly whispers, as if he was trying to stifle the noises erupting in his throat. He starts fucking into your mouth, pushing himself so unbelievably deep inside of you, 

“Needed to punish that fuckin bratty mouth of yours.. Fuck, the way you’ve been speakin’ t’me these weeks and you expected me not to fill it? Dirty fuckin’ girl needed a big cock to finally get her to shut up.” you moan around his cock at his lewd words, as he lands a soft slap to the side of you face. 

“If you can’t be quiet doll, imma have to stop, ya don’ want that d’ya? My little slut can’t get enough of my cock.” you shake your head, meeting his eyes with a pleading gaze because the thought of him stopping right now was not even an option for you. “That's what I thought. Attagirl” he rubs over your cheek where he struck you, contrasting from the previous sharpness with his comforting touch.

“Alright, we got what we need. Let’s go boys, boss wants us to meet him at the bar.”

The footsteps outside of the closet move through the room, towards the door as you hear the door unlocking and them pass through.

They’re gone, and you and Frank are now alone, his cock still twitching in your mouth.

You look up to him and smile around his girth as he smiles back.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he exhales, relieved, grabbing your elbows from your side and pulling you up to match his height. “I don’t know if I could’ve handled fuckin’ ruining ya in here, unable to hear you scream my name.”

He steps out the closet, taking his gun in his hand to make sure there was no one outside. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, his messed up hair, flushed cheeks, clothes rustled as he steps out with his hard cock first and jeans undone. 

“It's all clear doll, come out.”

You leave to join him, as you peel the rest of your suit off of you while stepping towards him. He takes you in a firm embrace and pushes his lips on yours as he sheds the rest of his clothes. Running your hands all over his toned chest, feeling every indentation of his abs as he does the same, cupping your breasts and kneading them like dough while fucking your mouth with his tongue.

“Bend over the couch f’me doll, be a good girl yeah?” you nod, turning away from him as you push yourself down the arm of the couch, wiggling your hips at him. He lets out a primal groan, the sight sending him over the edge. You feel a harsh slap ring across your ass. You yelp in pain laced with pleasure as he slaps you again once more, followed by a couple more. Your breaths are hiccuped, as you whine and push your ass into his crotch, dying for any sense of friction.

“God dunno how much I’ve been wantin’ to do that, spank this perfect ass for all the times you’ve misbehaved. What’s up doll, cat got ya tongue?” he says, reaching down to cup your jaw and angle your face towards him.

“‘M sorry sir, I’ll be good from now on, I swear.. Please Frank I need you so bad.”

“Need me to do what, sweet thing? Use ya big girl words f’me yeah? Know ya can.”

“Fuck Frank, please. Please just fuck me. Need to feel your big dick inside me- oh!” your words are cut off as he pushes himself fully into you, the stretch of your walls burning so good as he gets situated inside of you.

“Fuck darlin’ you’re so fucking tight. I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin ya.” he begins thrusting into you with a harsh and passionate pace, his heavy balls smacking off your clit. Pleasure coarses through your veins, the feeling unlike nothing you have experienced before, with either yourself or anyone else. His tip repeatedly kisses your cervix with every thrust. The noises erupting from you are sinful, you shamelessly cry out as he grips onto your hips, keeping you firm in place.

“Fuckfuckfuck Frank right there don’t stop don’t you fucking stop. ‘M so close.. Fuck please ohmygod.” you say through strangled sobs, your moans are borderline pornographic. 

“Let it all out babydoll, milk my fuckin’ cock. It’s all yours darlin’” he reaches down to your engorged bud, flicking it hurriedly. It’s not long until your release, forcing his cock out with the sheer power of your pussy clamping and the long stream of squirt leaving your sex. 

“There she goes! Atta-fuckin-girl doll, mess up that pretty pussy.” he replaces his fingers with his tip as he rubs it across your throbbing clit, prolonging your orgasm for as long as humanly possible, feeling the gush of your sweet release on his cock. “Fuck doll, you look so perfect cummin’ for me.”

He pushes his cock back inside of you, grabbing your hair into a fist, pulling you back as you arch further into him. “My fuckin’ girl, who does this pussy belong to sweet girl?”

“You sir, all you. I’m all yours.” you say through strangled sobs, putting your hands beneath you to balance yourself.

“Damn fuckin’ right it is princess. You belong to me.” he growls as his pace quickens, chasing his own release. It’s not long before his thrusts begin to falter, as you feel his dick twitch inside of you.

“Fill me up sir, please I wanna feel it. I wanna feel you.”

“Don’ have to tell me twice, every drop of my seed belongs in your sweet cunt. Ya gonna be feelin’ me for days baby girl.” Frank groans, dropping his hand full of your hair to your hips, as he grips you in his large hands drilling into you. You wish you could’ve somehow recorded the noises he made when he emptied himself inside of you. You could’ve sworn you heard him whimper along with saying your name and chanting curses like a prayer. The feeling of his member throb and twitch inside of you is something you never want to forget. 

Reluctantly after a few minutes, he removes himself from you. He stands back as he watches your mixed juices flow from your hole, evidence of the previous events dropping onto the hardwood floor beneath you. He can’t help but push his finger back inside of you, forcing his cum back. Your overstimulated pussy weeps with the action, making you whimper once more.

“You look so pretty, stuffed full’a me.”

He pulls away and places a kiss to your shoulder as you turn onto your back, sprawled out naked for him, your lips flushed and swollen from his kisses, hickeys beginning to form on your neck and your dripping hole instantly make him hard as a rock once more, after fully unloading himself in you minutes prior. You notice, and offer him a playful grin, moving your hands back down to your sex, swirling the juice with your fingers. He lets out a groan at what his eyes are seeing.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl, just got stuffed to the brim but still needy? I’ll take care of ya doll, let Frankie take care of ya..”

You fucked three more times that night, all over the apartment. Luckily the drunkards who forced you into this predicament were long gone, probably passed out in an alleyway somewhere. But you couldn’t give less of a fuck, there was only one man on your mind for the rest of the night.

Frank fucking Castle.

──── ୨୧ ────

a/n: i hope you enjoyed ml, im honestly quite proud of this one, so obsessed with frank dirty talkingg it makes me feral

my inbox is open!

[jaggedamethyst]

nsfw matt murdock head canons

matt murdock is a freak fest and im ready to join in even if the crowd is embarassingly slim...like those concerts with like four people in the crowd

18+ under the cut, not proofread, smut obviously, maybe some plot and fluff...idk I write these before the head canons are done...enjoy

requests!

matt murdock is no stranger to getting his ass beat...handed to him every night and relishing the pain. at first, he'd wince, knowing he had to see you and be this vulnerable...that you would reprimand him for being so careless...that you would have to bare witness to him being hurt. he didn't want you to see him this way...to worry you. but the one time he showed up and recognized an uptick in your heart rate, the way sweat started to form at your hairline, how your fingertips shook...he couldn't help but pull his punches a bit. you liked the blood, liked him in his brutalized form as much as you tried not to. he could tell it turned you on and he took advantage of that the next time he had you alone. he'd slide into you slowly, almost forcing you to hold onto his back for leverage. you'd get a good feel of his skin...the way scars completely covered him. he'd smile to himself, knowing you accepted him despite his tendency to seek out trouble.

matt did a lot to annoy you but the nightly patrols were undoubtedly the worst. it started to piss you off, the blantant disregard for his own health and safety. it nagged at you so much that you'd randomly decided to leave his place and head to your own while he was out one night. he'd know, of course. the usual sound of you pattering no longer in his ears, the warm silhouette no longer igniting his senses. he'd meet you at your place, sliding into a window before you got to the front door. he'd have you against the nearest wall before you could even process his presence, kissing your neck and asking you to come home...begging you to do so. you'd lift a leg as he slid his fingers into you, ignoring the tightness of your walls. he'd have you unraveling, a little chant and repetition of the word yes tumbling from your lips over and over. he could tell you hated him sometimes but loved him enough right now to come back to him. your nods were of pleasure, but also an affirmation of his request. you'd come home...you always would...especially with fingers like his.

matt loved to cook, his favorite time to play chef was when you were asleep. he was quite fond of the way you registered the scent before you even woke up, loving the way your nostrils flared a few times just before your eyes fluttered open. you'd always crack a smile, too, itching your way to your feet and into the kitchen to see what matt had thrown together. the domesticity was his favorite thing, the best way to let himself be happy before the darkness of the night...before he had to let him out. everything about your and matt's movement would be slow, lazy even. it was often that you'd eye the food, agreeing that it would just get cold if you kept fooling around the way you would...but neither of you could care enough. he'd have you over the counter eventually, the sounds of your skin slapping together filling the space. the breakfast would be long forgotten, matt now fully in tune with your new reactions. it was slow and sweet, matt kissing over the spots he'd just bit into...soothing your heating skin as he continued to tear you apart. he knew you liked it this way, slow and intimate...so he'd give you that. the curl of your toes, your panting breath, and the way your focus seemed to completely disappear enraptured him. it was absolutely worth the cold breakfast.

[traveller-of-the-knight]

Uuuuh...

What if Matt ended up actually killing a bad guy and Jake arriving late, not knowing what had happened.

He would ask him if he got the information and tell him to run, they would call an ambulance on their way it is fine!

It was not fine.

Matt took his mask off and "looked" at Jake.

Jake would deny it. Matt- Matt wouldn't! Be couldn't take it! He knew Marc before going to wae before his first kill. He knew himself before that too. He wouldn't want the guilt to change Matt like it changed them.

Matt... He was still pure and innocent (as much as a vigilante can be) he hadn't taken a life!

No that would destroy Matt, he couldn't take it.

The police were arriving.

Matt wouldn't move.

He stayed there not carrying if the police caught him.

He took him on his back and run to were he had parked the taxi.

It would be a long night but Matt wouldn't spent it alone.

[chvoswxtch]

Champagne Problems (Elektra’s Version): “But you'll find the real thing instead/She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred.”

Maybe she finally sees Matt found his endgame with someone else.

Red or Midnights, please. ✨

this one hurt me a lot. champagne problems is one of my favorite blondie songs ever and it cuts deep every time I listen to it

I also never thought about how fitting it would be for matt & elektra so thank you for requesting this ✨

drabble below the cut

champagne problems (elektra's version)

but you’ll find the real thing instead / she’ll patch up your tapestry that i shred

So this is love. Swallowing the jagged pieces of your own broken heart, lungs filling with viscous misery, left with an infinite gaping void that will never be filled, while you watch the one you love be in love with someone else.

Perhaps this was what she deserved. Elektra had broken Matt’s heart first, afterall; broken him. What she had done…the way she had abandoned him crestfallen…it was too much for even his mandated faith to forgive. She had filled his heart with gilded promises of a future, hoping he would be so blinded by her Midas touch that he wouldn’t notice how fucked in the head she was.

She had run away to the other side of the world to avoid the aftermath of her own natural disaster, and had been too afraid to see how he would recover…if he would recover.

But maybe time does heal all wounds. And after all, ten years is a long time.

Matt looked happy; happier than Elektra had ever seen him. He had a new life now, a good life, and the gold band around his left ring finger was concrete evidence of his commitment to it…to her. She knew he deserved it. After everything he had been through…everything she had put him through…he deserved something good. Someone good.

And he seemed to have found her.

Elektra tried to find peace in knowing that Matt had found his happy ending, even though she knew it meant there was no longer a role for her in his story. She had written herself out ten years ago, and he probably didn’t even remember her now, or her champagne problems.

[littlebirdygirlywriting]

EEEEEKKKKKK!!!!!! OF COURSE I DON’T MIND IT BEING LONGER!!! Oh my gosh, it’s AMAZING!!! I love it, I love it, I love it, and did I mention? I LOVE IT!!! Your descriptions, oh my WORD!!! “Precipitation and tears turn to acid. At first, it sizzles, but then it turns cold.” AND THEN YOU FOLLOW IT UP WITH “The acid of your tears neutralizes.” Like, HELLOO??? Do you REALISE how much of a genius you are??? “His forehead comes to rest against yours, not at all gently, but pressing into you as though he’s trying to heal you somehow.” ASDFGHJKL!! I’m literally no longer computing. You’ve broken me. (But in the best way possible!!) This is going to my favourites IMMEDIATELY!!!! 😍😍🫠

Happy birthdayyy!!!! 💖

This is such a fun idea, I love it!

Can I get a bouquet of peonies and lilies with “Who did this to you?” Please and thank you? 🥰

THANK YOU! Oh, how I love that prompt. I love using it. I love reading it. I love the fact it exists. And I love that I got to write it for you. I went a bit overboard, so it no longer counts as a Drabble but a… triple Drabble? I don’t even know what it’s called. I hope you don’t mind it being a bit longer than 100 words, and I hope I did your vision justice!

"Who did this to you?"

Event Masterlist | Matt Murdock Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Request: A bouquet of... peonies and lilies.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence & blood

WC: 327

The November rain rolls off your shredded coat and leaves a trail on the wooden floorboards of his apartment. Precipitation and tears turn to acid. At first, it sizzles, but then it turns cold. 

Matt cradles your face in his hands, hazel eyes now black with the storm raging in them. He can hear the blood rushing a mere inch under your skin, your bones shifting, and your once so steady heart seems to have died in your chest.

Blood soaks his fingertips. One brush against your cheek is enough; you fall apart at his touch. 

“Who did this to you?” he asks, merely a breath away from a whisper.

Your freezing hands find his, and you cling to him like the only lifeboat on a drowning ship, choking on the lack of oxygen. You shrink under the weight of your wary soul.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Matt’s hold on you tightens. “Look at me.”

The neon light casts a glow over his most distinctive features, and you have no choice but to oblige.

“Look at me. You’re safe now, alright? You’re okay,” he says. 

The words on your tongue turn into a gut-wrenching sob. His forehead comes to rest against yours, not at all gently but pressing into you as though he’s trying to heal you somehow.

Someone hurt you. They touched you and made you bleed, and for that, they are going to burn. 

“C’mere.” He pulls you into his arms. “You’re okay, I promise. I’ve got you, baby. I’ve always got you.” 

As you cry into his chest and he holds you so tightly, your thoughts become less terrifying. Noise returns to the world around you, taking the shape of his soothing pulse. The acid of your tears neutralizes. Perhaps the world isn’t ending. Perhaps hope has not withered like a fragile flower.

“I’ll find whoever did this to you,” Matt vows, “and I’m gonna make them pay.”

Perhaps you are going to be okay.