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bleedingoptimism · 10 months

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It’s a little after eleven when Eddie finally manages to get Tarja to bed. It’s hard for her without her plushie. And really, Eddie is very thankful having a hyper-fixation with her toy seems to be the only ‘consequence’ of having divorced parents Tarja seems to have right now. He always worries if having two homes and constantly moving between them is good for her or not. Especially with Tommy being Tarja’s other dad, but against all odds, he’s good to her. So their kid is doing just fine. She’s happy. And if she’s happy, Eddie is happy.

He’s getting ready to open a beer and relax when there’s a knock on the door. He smiles, assuming is Steve bringing Toothless over and almost knocks his beer to the floor when he opens the door.

Steve looks… well he looks amazing, dressed to the nines. Must’ve been date night. But his eyes are red and puffy, his face covered in dark blotches, and his lips are swollen like he’s been biting them too much.

He’s hugging Toothless to his chest and he smiles at Eddie when he sees him, but he looks so sad it breaks his heart.

Eddie throws the beer behind him, sure it will land on the couch and cradles Steve’s face between his hands, “What did that asshole do?

Steve leans into his touch and shuts his eyes for a moment before sighing and stepping away from him, walking inside and sitting on the couch still holding Toothless like a lifeline.

“Nothing, he was just-” Steve shakes his head and chuckles darkly, “He’s just so mean,”

Eddie drops to his knees in front of him and dips his head to look Steve in the eye just like he did that day in the park.

“Break up with him,” he says.

“I can’t.”

“Tommy doesn't deserve you, Steve. You are worth so much more than what that asshole makes you feel. You deserve better. More. Everything,” Eddie pleads, placing his hands on Steve’s knees and squeezing, “If it’s because of Tarja, we’ll figure something out, ok? Lots of people keep in contact with their parent’s significant other after they break up” He rushes, the speech he didn't have quite prepared last week coming out of him in a single breath, “We are friends, right? So you can still visit and see her. Visit me. You don’t have to stop being a part of our lives.”

Steve is staring at him right now like Eddie just gifted him the moon and he’s so beautiful it’s kind of hard for Eddie to keep eye contact, but he squeezes Steve’s knees again to ground himself and does. Steve needs to know he’s very serious about this. About him.

Eyes shining, Steve takes a deep breath and nods slowly, a tear falling down his cheek that Eddie follows with his eyes and watches until it hides under Steve’s v-neck shirt.

“Hey, even I didn’t put up with Tommy's shit for Tarja’s sake and I birthed her,” he jokes awkwardly, trying to make him laugh and feels like doing a little victory dance when Steve snorts cutely,

“Okay,” he hiccups.

“Yeah?” Eddie smiles back at him, relieved.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “Fuck Tommy.” And drops back on the couch, looking exhausted, “Can I stay here tonight?” he asks in a whisper, like he’s afraid Eddie will say no. As if.

“Yeah, of course,” Is what he answers, and has half a mind to invite him into his bed but knows it’s a terrible idea. So he lends Steve his favorite flannel pajamas and sets blankets and a pillow on the couch and they say their goodnights.

And if he does a little dance when he closes the door to his room, no one is there to see.

In the morning, Steve stays for breakfast. And attempts to kill Eddie by making his heart explode, cooking it himself from scratch with Tarja’s help, who is so happy she won’t stop running around the kitchen making Toothless fly and sing about ‘happy family breakfast time’.

It’s actually hard to tell if she’s happier to have her plushie back or that Steve is there. Eddie, on the other hand, knows exactly what he’s happiest about. Death by tenderness. Is that a thing? He amuses himself thinking about a couple csi’s with sunglasses saying it,

“He died because he witnessed something too cute,”

“Ah yes, death by fondness. I’ve seen it before.”

After, Eddie walks him to the door and Steve smiles sweetly at him, and holds his hand, squeezing it once before letting go, “Well, see you. I guess,” he says bashfully and there’s a moment there, a second where time stops and Eddie thinks he should kiss him. Wants to kiss him, needs to kiss him.

But he doesn’t. Because Steve is still dating Tommy, and just because he said he was going to break up with him doesn’t mean he wants to start something new with Eddie.

Eddie himself called him his friend for the first time last night for christ sake. ‘Fucking chill’ he thinks to himself.

🧸

And then a week goes by without hearing a word from Steve. But Eddie doesn't hold it against him.

At first, he figures he needs time to think but then he starts to wonder if he really is going to break up with Tommy. Four days in, he gets paranoid about it. Maybe Steve got brainwashed into thinking Eddie is bad for him. Maybe Tommy told him Eddie was putting ideas in his head, that he shouldn’t talk to him anymore… With him telling Steve to break up with his boyfriend and all...

He’s well aware of how manipulative Tommy can be and has seen the way he belittles Steve to keep him around, so he knows it’ll be hard for Steve to actually go through with it.

And he can’t exactly show up at Tommy’s and steal Steve away, no matter how appealing the idea might be. The only thing he can do is just think of Steve, wish him well, and send him strength to do what he needs to do. At the end of the day, it needs to be his decision. His choice.

As Tommy’s week with Tarja approaches he starts getting more and more anxious, wondering if it’ll be Steve or Tommy who picks her up.

When the day finally arrives, and the doorbell rings, Tarja runs to open the door and Eddie peeks his head through the hallway.

“Daddy!” Tarja screams.

“Hey, Tata! You ready?” Tommy says and Eddie steps into the hall to greet him too.

“Not yet!” Tarja chuckles and Tommy smiles at her,

“Okay, go get ready. I’ll wait here,”

Eddie walks to the door and leans on the doorframe, “Hey,”

“Hi. Long time no see,” Tommy says and then adds, “You look great,”

“You don’t,” Eddie answers, because it’s true. He looks like shit. Greasy hair, bags under his eyes, chapped lips, wrinkles on his clothes, “What happened?”

“Steve broke up with me.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide and he smiles, he doesn’t even try to hide it, “He did?”

“Don’t smile, fucker,” Tommy says but there’s no heat behind it. He knows he deserves it.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, not sorry at all.

“Stop,” Tommy whines because Eddie’s smile is actually getting bigger,

“Sorry,” he repeats and then clears his throat, “Did he tell you why?”

“Because I’m a horrible person,” Tommy groans.

“Hey, the first step is to ad-”

“To admit it, yeah, yeah. I know” Tommy interrupts him, groaning again.

Eddie sighs, and punches Tommy’s shoulder lightly, “Look, Tommy, I’m just going to say this because, well… you are pathetic. You need to do better.” And then he points to his back, to where Tarja’s disappeared to get her stuff, “She’s going to grow up and realize you are an awful person and she’s not going to want you in her life. And I’m not going to dissuade her from it, because I already don’t want you to be in mine, you know that, right?”

Tommy looks at him seriously and then nods once, fast and hard. Like he gets it. Like he agrees and is determined to change. And Eddie hopes for Tarja’s sake he is. But knows, deep in his heart, that either way, she’s going to be fine.

“Also, just a heads up. I’m in love with Steve and I’m going to ask him out,” he adds in a rush when he hears Tarja running up behind him.

“You are shitting me,” Tommy whispers, shocked and clenching his teeth.

Eddie laughs, “Nope,” he says, closing his lips loudly around the P.

“Eddie,” Tommy warns him like he’s waiting for Eddie to say he's joking.

“What? I hear he’s single,” Eddie smirks.

“You motherfuc- Hey Tata!” Gathering Tarja in his arms, Tommy drops the subject but he glares at Eddie as he kisses Tarja’s cheek goodbye and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ as he’s leaving. Eddie closes the door and starts laughing at the look on Tommy’s face.

He needs to call Steve.

He tries a couple of times but he doesn’t pick up and he starts worrying Steve might not actually want to talk to him, and then there’s a knock on the door but Eddie, too preoccupied with his anxiety, opens without looking, thinking Tarja forgot something.

When he doesn't hear her, Eddie looks up from his ‘ignored calls’ screen to see nonother than Steve standing there, looking nervous and like a fucking dream with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. A fucking bouquet of flowers. For him. For Eddie. All different shades of red, because he knows is his favorite color.

Eddie just blinks at him a couple of times and Steve flushes even more and drops the hand holding up the flowers, scratches the back of his neck nervously, “This was stupid, the flowers were fucking stupid. They are stupid. I’m stupid, right?”

A laugh bubbles out of Eddie and he grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and pulls him inside. He closes the door once they are both in and slams Steve against it, crushing their lips together. Steve circles his arms around Eddie and holds him close, instantly returning the kiss with fervor.

They kiss as if it were fate. They kiss until it's hard to breathe and Eddie pulls away only to kiss him again, and again, and again.

“Not stupid,” he murmurs between kisses and feels Steve’s smile against his lips.

Eventually, Eddie takes a step back and lets Steve into his home properly, “Hi,” he says cheesily.

“Hi,” Steve says back grinning, then he lifts up the bouquet again, which is now completely ruined by him still holding it strongly while they made out like crazy, and his smile drops,

“Shit,” he pouts cutely, god Eddie wants to eat him. He laughs and takes the flowers anyway, putting them in an empty glass bottle, because he doesn’t own a flower vase, because he’s a normal human being. ‘Who the fuck owns a flower vase?’

“Come here,” he says, holding out both hands for Steve to take and follow him.

Steve takes his hands but doesn't move, instead swings them from side to side, “Wait, let's talk,”

Fuck, yeah. They should. That’s a good idea. Fuck. Damn, Steven Whatever-The-Fuck-Is-His-Middle-Name Harrington and his sensible and very logical choice…

Eddie huffs exaggeratedly making Steve chuckle and redirects them to the couch, where they sit still holding hands, “Alas,” he says dramatically, “You are right, we should talk. I actually wanted to ask you out properly, not debauch you the second you walked through the door. Sorry about that” he lies, not sorry at all, again.

Steve blushes and smiles, drawing little circles with his thumbs on Eddie’s hands, “Yeah me too. I wanna do this right. Ask you out. Go on dates. I think we should take this slow,”

Eddie makes a face and groans at that. He doesn't want to take it slow. He wants Steve to move in right now or something. Steve rolls his eyes amused at his interruption and keeps going,

“I came here to ask you out the right way because I want you to know I’m committed. But we should think about how this will affect Tarja… and Tommy too. We should go out a few times, spend some time alone, and I want you to meet my friends and my parents and I want to meet your friends and your uncle too and just do this properly and-”

Eddie interrupts him with a kiss, he can’t take it anymore, he’s been dying to kiss Steve for months now and he’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes Eddie insane, makes him feel like he needs to ruin him, but in a nice way, like with devotion and love.

Steve lets go of his hands to wrap his arms around Eddie’s waist and hoists him until he’s straddling Steve. Eddie leans his elbows on Steve’s shoulders, and buries his hands in his hair, pulling and messing with it.

“Okay but have you considered having hard, hot, wet sex, and then maybe we do what you said?” He asks panting against Steve’s lips and actually feeling how that punches the air out of him.

He hugs Eddie closer to his chest and whines, “Yeah okay, we can do it your way,” and gets up, lifting Eddie with him as if he were weightless. Eddie squawks and laughs all the way to his room.

🧸

They spend the week together, talking, eating, drinking, laughing and fucking. Except it’s more than that because when Eddie is inside Steve, with his tongue, his fingers, or his strap, it feels like more. It feels like love. Like fate.

Steve, still determined to take things slow, doesn’t stay there all the time, going back to Robin’s where he moved back to after breaking up with Tommy. He actually brings her over one day and the three of them spend the afternoon together. Eddie decides they are going to be best friends immediately because Robin is hilarious and merciless. When Steve gets back the next day he kisses Eddie so good and hard his knees almost give out on him and tells him he has Robin’s seal of approval. Something he knows Tommy never got.

When the week passes Eddie says goodbye theatrically as if they were cross-star lovers in a bad soap opera and Steve chuckles and calls him ridiculous but kisses him so passionately that Eddie drags him right back inside and they say goodbye again a few hours later.

They had decided to wait until Eddie talked to Tarja about her feelings over Tommy’s and Steve’s breakup and whether she still wanted Steve around or not before having him over again.

But when Tarja gets back home she’s gloomy and silent. She hugs Eddie in greeting when she arrives and then spends the rest of the day lying face down on the floor and occasionally sighing loudly, obviously trying to make Eddie ask her what’s wrong.

And really, Eddie shouldn't find it as funny as he does, but he thinks about calling Wayne and telling him he gets it now when Wayne used to tell him he had too much personality.

Eventually, he lies on the floor next to her and asks. Tarja looks at him with big sad eyes and says, “I haven't seen Steve in a million years! And Daddy said he is not his boyfriend anymore! So I’ll never see him again and I miss him”

Eddie coos at her, “I’m sorry you miss him little dragon, but you can totally see him again! Would you like me to call him? Since he’s my friend too?” Already trying to strategize on how to tell her they are more than friends.

Tarja lights up and jumps off the floor and onto Eddie, punching the breath out of him, “Yes! Yes! Call Steve! Steve smiles more when he’s with you than he did with daddy anyway. Why don’t you boyfriend him instead?”

Well… that was easy.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “That’s a great idea sweety, go grab my phone,”

Tarja runs and grabs Eddie’s phone off the table and hands it to him, he doesn’t bother getting off the floor so she kneels beside him listening attentively as he dials Steve’s number.

“Hi, handsome, you talked with Tarja already?” Steve greets him after it rings twice.

“Yeah about that, turns out Tarja talked to me, actually,” he chuckles, “Hi, by the way”

“Hi,” Steve repeats lovingly and laughs, “What do you mean?”

“She had this awesome idea!” he says winking at her and she covers her mouth with her tiny hands to hide her giggles, “That, since you are not with Tommy anymore, you should be my boyfriend instead,” he continues, voice going soft and chuckles when he hears Steve's breathless ‘oh’ on the other side of the line, “Come over?”

“Of course, gimme an hour? I'm with a client” Steve hums and Eddie whispers he’ll give him anything he asks for and hangs up.

An hour later Tarja is still lying on the floor, only now it’s with papers and crayons spread all around her when the doorbell rings. She looks up at Eddie excitedly and he nods at her, “Go on then”

Tarja runs to the door and opens it wide to reveal Steve standing there as beautiful as ever, giving Eddie a deja vu of the first time he saw him.

“Papa Steve!” Tarja yells and jumps up to hug him.

Steve gasps and falls to his knees with her in his arms and looks up at Eddie with shocked wet eyes.

‘So much for taking it slow,’ Eddie thinks with a smirk.

Fin.

☝️first part

☕🥐💕?

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #trans eddie munson #kid fic #i wrote something #i keep thinking about #you know how kid memories are weird and warped in your minds #i keep thinking about tarja being very much convinced that she is the one who got them to date just cause she suggested it to eddie #when she's older i mean #like they cannon convince her other wise she soooooo sure cause she perfectly remembers telling eddie to 'boyfriend' steve and that they #were not together before that #steve and robin think its hilarious #eddie hates giving her the credit #dunno if tommy gets a redemption ark but i imagine tarja and him have coffee from time to time and they catch up on their lives.#and tarja rolls her eyes a lot at him but he's not as bad as he used to be #its mostly like 'yeah yeah dad im sure tthings were different in your time sure'

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a-leg-without-fear · 2 months

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Sweet

sin sin sin sIN SIN THIS IS SIN. please enjoy pleasuring our dear college!matt

Ship: Matt Murdock x Female!Reader

Rating: 18+ (pure filth, truly)

Wordcount: 2.7k

Warnings: smut, sexual situations, foreplay, some depressive thoughts (because i apparently can't write anything without them)

Warm.

Soft, warm, gentle, sweet. Sweeter than anything he’d tasted. Like dew that’s been licked off a cold strawberry, or the fragrant scent that wafts through the air outside of flower shops. A delicate and tender sweetness. Subtle, comforting, like the smell of home after being away for years. Such sweetness could make Matt lose himself, letting himself drift away on a current of fond smiles and warm embraces. He would allow himself to drown in the sweet taste, even if it was the last drop to pass his lips before he drifted to the ocean floor.

At the sudden loss of the warmth, the tenderness, the sweetness, Matt’s throat let out a whine of annoyance. His body moved of its own accord as he scrambled to reconnect himself to the source. Fingers tangling in silken hair. Hand bunching in a tank top. Teeth nipping at a plump, pink lower lip.

“Matt,” you sighed. The words cascaded past Matt’s tongue and down his throat, carrying a breeze filled with cherry blossoms in their wake. He could distantly feel delicate fingertips brush at his jaw. A tingling warmth trailed behind the gentle touch, only fueling his need to swallow as much sweetness as he could.

“Matt, honey. Breathe.”

Matt’s eyes fell open as he pulled away from his brief reprieve. His senses came crashing down like a cave in. All he could see was a haze of swirling oranges and reds that filled every inch in sight. Streaks of flame and blood painting the college dorm room like a canvas on fire. His cotton shirt was too tight, too scratchy. The humid air settled in his pores like an unwelcome visitor. A sudden cacophony of noise spilled into his ears through the crack under the door and the thin material of the walls. He blinked a few times to reorient.

The first inhale he allowed himself felt like a punch in the lungs. Gone was the taste of strawberries or cherry blossoms, the feeling of warmth and comfort. A sharp tang of stale alcohol plunged its way into his sinuses and left him reeling. Notes of old, worn carpet and water-damaged ceilings shoved their way through to stand side by side to overwhelm thought and feeling. Matt screwed his eyes shut, trying to recall the smell of flowers that flowed like water down his throat.

“Hey, I’m right here,” you whispered, your melodic voice brushing aside the sounds assaulting Matt’s senses. Your soft hand rested along his jaw and brought his forehead to yours. Matt could feel your breath fan across his face. Warm and gentle and sweet.

“I… I’m sorry,” Matt said. He felt naïve. The world was harsh and cold and unforgiving. He shouldn’t have let himself get carried away by the allure you unintentionally provided. The sweet ambrosia that flowed from your lips could never compete with the torrential downpour of too much all around him.

“Sorry for what?” you asked. Your fingers brushed strands of Matt’s dark hair away from his face, then trailed their way down his cheek to rest on his collarbone.

Matt opened his eyes again in a desperate attempt to see you. See anything. But all he was met with was the clouded reds and oranges that submerged the world beneath a pool of blood.

He tried to focus on where your face would be, using the brush of air currents along your seated body to understand where you were on the bed. Your head was cocked, hair falling in front of your kind eyes. Matt could tell you were looking at him. From the way your heart calmly beat behind your ribs and the pheromones that surrounded you like an aura, Matt assumed you were happy. Content.

“I got caught up in the moment,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. You chuckled at his bashfulness, the sound ringing like a small bell around Matt’s head. Hopefully he could deflect from his lapse in awareness. Of course he had to be blind and easily distracted.

“That’s not a bad thing, you know. Just gotta remember to breathe,” you said. Matt scoffed playfully at the jab. He let his hands drift down to your waist, tucking his fingers beneath the bunched-up hem of your shirt.

“I don’t know, you seem to like it when I prevent you from breathing.”

Your breath caught in your throat as your heart leapt and your face heated. A flash of the intoxicating scent that was distinctly you floated from between your legs. Matt could feel his own arousal swirling like a whirlpool in his stomach. An uncontrollable tempest begging to be released over calm waters. Despite how desperately he wanted your clothes off and you beneath him, he pulled his mouth into a cocky grin while his fingers worked their way up to your bra.

“What’s wrong? Feeling embarrassed? Or are you just remembering how good it felt when I choked you?” he purred.

That got you riled up. Your chest started heaving as your skin grew hot and clammy over your entire body. A fresh wave of wetness and delicious scent warmed the inside of your thighs. You swallowed heavily and Matt could practically feel the way the muscles in your throat moved.

But you hesitated. Your fingers stopped their soft stroking along his sensitive skin. Your breath halted just behind your soft lips. Matt’s brow furrowed as a frown tugged at the edges of his lips.

“You okay?” he asked warily. Matt forced his hands to cease in their uphill climb and placed them on your hips. Anxiety gripped at his chest. Did he misread the situation? Misread you? Did he make you uncomfortable? God, what if you finally realized you’d made a mistake in dating him? It was bound to happen, sooner or later.

“Can I be on top tonight?” you asked, as though that sentence didn’t hit him like a ton of bricks to the stomach.

“W-What?” Matt spluttered.

“These past few times you’ve been making me feel good. Really good. I want to try to return the favor,” you explained. Your nails began to pick at a stray thread on Matt’s shirt collar. Matt’s ears picked up on the uptick in your pulse. Were you… nervous?

“If you don’t want to, that's fine, you can be on top. We can also just kiss if that’s more what you’re feeling today. I don’t want to make you feel weird and-”

“Sweetheart, slow down,” Matt said, interrupting your fast-paced tangent. Your mouth clamped shut as a deep breath filled your lungs. Matt grabbed loosely at your shoulders, thumbs rubbing back and forth on your bare skin, as an easy smile fell over his face.

He gave you a few seconds to catch your breath then said, “You can be on top. I just wasn’t expecting you to ask.”

In all honesty, he wasn’t expecting you to ask. Matt’s life was a never ending learning curve of discovering that love was not guaranteed. His mother left before he was a year old, his father died when he was nine, his mentor, Stick, abandoned him at the first sign of affection. He learned long ago to not expect anything from anyone. That was the first lesson Stick had taught him.

And yet, against all odds, here you sat. An enigma if ever there was one. Offering your affection on a silver platter at Matt’s feet. A clear sign of trust, of devotion, of love.

“Okay,” you said. A relieved smile broke out across your face. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat. Matt’s heart raced in time with yours. His fingers began kneading in the soft flesh at your hips.

“Lie down for me,” you said. Four words, spoken softly with the gentleness of a feather, yet they struck Matt in the chest like a wide haymaker. A sentence that carried the weight of authority and a gentle caress all in one. Suddenly all he wanted to do was follow instructions.

In a flash he had his head on the pillow, arms at his sides, breathing at an alarmingly fast rate. Anticipation burned its way through his veins and clouded his senses. The world outside the dorm room faded away. Like a memory retreating into a dense fog. Loud voices down the hall quieted into nothing, the humidity in the air evaporated, his shirt felt like the softest silk, and the scent around him. God, all he could smell was you. Your breath was like the first day of spring, your skin like rolling hills of green grass, your hair like soft strands of pure sunlight. Matt’s world was, yet again, sweet.

“Let me know if I’m making you uncomfortable,” you breathed, your lips suddenly brushing against his earlobe. Matt would have jumped had he not been so relaxed beneath your comforting presence. Your sense of calm had washed over him like a warm wave at low tide.

“I will,” Matt replied, having to use what remained of his mind to form two coherent words. A soft hum of acknowledgement rustled the baby hairs by his ear. He had just enough awareness to track you as you pressed a soft kiss under his jaw.

A sigh escaped his lips as he tilted his head back against the pillow. You smiled against his skin, rewarding the accommodation by pressing a firmer kiss into the soft skin beneath his ear. Tendrils of goodgoodgood shocked their way through his veins from where your lips connected to the sensitive skin. His breath hitched as he let his eyes fall closed.

“Good spot, I take it,” you said through a smile Matt could hear. Matt barely got out the word “yes” before you licked a broad swipe up his neck and ended at that sensitive spot. Matt’s back arched as a groan kicked its way out of his throat. His hands fisted into your tank top out of pure instinct, practically begging the source of his pleasure to stay put. Another pass of your tongue stoked the embers in his abdomen into a bonfire, flames licking their way over his damp skin.

“Sweetheart, please,” Matt begged, the words a whisper on his parted lips. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was begging for. All he knew was he never wanted you to stop.

Blunt fingernails traced the exposed skin beneath his shirt. Matt’s hips bucked up, chasing the light touch. The muscles beneath his skin jumped as you slowly, so slowly, started pushing his shirt up. It was agonizing, the feeling of your nails lightly scraping along his stomach. Each finger lit up thousands of nerve endings, each nerve ending pushing him further and further toward the edge of a steep cliff.

You pressed a soft kiss to the shell of Matt’s ear as you whispered, “Arms up, Matt.”

You could tell him to kneel at your feet for the rest of his life and he would.

Matt did the best his melted body could to help you take his shirt off. The two of you were a mess of limbs and cotton for a moment before you were able to pull the infernal garment away. Matt’s arms fell beside him like two sacks of grain. Palms as soft as calfskin ever so gently glided down his bare chest. You made sure every divot and round muscle got the attention it deserved, caressing Matt like he was the finest lace. When your pinky brushed against his nipple, a sharp hiss escaped through his teeth.

You hummed, hands retreating in their path, fingers dancing along the edges of Matt’s nipples. Matt choked out a moan, baring his neck as his back arched into your touch. Your tongue made another pass of his throat as feather-light glances of your fingers across both of his nipples chased the last coherent thoughts from Matt’s mind.

“Fuck,” Matt groaned. Every millimeter of his skin felt like it was aflame. Fire left in the wake of your gentle touch. Burning away all sense and reason until all that was left was Matt’s writhing body.

He was close. Embarrassingly so. Matt clung to the cliff’s edge by his fingertips, each kiss and caress prying his fingers off one by one. His hips moved of their own volition. He was bucking into your thigh like a dog in heat. Whines and moans flew from his glistening lips while his hands scrabbled against the sheets.

With your hands still toying at Matt’s chest, you shifted in his lap until the warm heat between your thighs settled over where his shorts had tented. A slurred string of curses and your name spilled from between his teeth. His wild grinding now dispersed your scent in the air around him. And God, there was so much. It settled into every inch of Matt’s skin until he could taste it on his tongue, feel it coat his lungs as he breathed it in.

“Sw-eetheart,” Matt choked out. He could feel his fingers falling away from the cliff in rapid succession. The precipice below him seemed to climb up the cliffside until it was just beneath his feet, tempting him to let go and plunge into its depths.

The final nail in his coffin was when you nipped at his neck, teeth closing around where his pulse flowed strongest. The air in his lungs leapt through his throat in one big gust. His unseeing eyes rolled back in his head, hands grabbing at anything in their vicinity.

Matt’s final grip on the cliff fell away, plunging him into warmth and gentleness and sweetness that surrounded him like a strong embrace. Held him tight and wove its way through every muscle in his body. A shock of white hot pleasure rolled through him like a steam train. Starting in his groin and washing over him in wave after wave of fuckyesgoodfuckkeepgoingdon’tstop. He could barely register how loud he was over the roaring in his ears. His heart pounded against his chest like an animal behind bars.

Your lips found his again and everything clicked into place. Matt lapped at your mouth like he was drinking his first glass after a month in the desert. The sweet nectar that you produced flowed down his throat and prolonged his orgasm. His hips rocked up into yours, chasing a heat that he could feel in his bones. Hands, trembling, bunched themselves in your shirt and pulled your chest flush to his.

It took several minutes for the aftershocks to calm down. Every breath, every twitching muscle made his overwhelmed senses go haywire. In his mind, the world around him was a swirling cloud of bliss. All he could hear was your breathing, all he could feel was your heartbeat against his chest, all he could taste was strawberries and cherry blossoms. He let his fingertips trail along your exposed shoulders, zeroing in on the feeling, bringing himself back to reality.

When you felt the movement, you lifted your head to look at him, “Back with us?”

A tired smile spread itself over his lips. Matt opened his eyes, the effort to lift his eyelids like lifting a dumbbell, and let his empty gaze land somewhere on your face.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he sighed. You responded by giving him a quick peck on the lips. Matt grumbled, brow furrowing, then guided your chin back up to kiss him again. You chuckled against his lips, a whisper of “ridiculous man” absorbed between your mouths. Matt relished in the familiar sweetness before letting you pull away.

“I take it you enjoyed that?” you asked. Matt gave you a solemn nod, at which you laughed. He shifted beneath you so he could attempt to meet your eyes.

“Did you like it?” he asked tentatively. He fiddled with the hem of your shirt as he waited for your answer. He hadn’t done anything for you, he just laid there and made you do all the work. What kind of boyfriend was he? Not to mention you didn’t even touch him. A few grazes of your fingers over his chest and he was done for.

“I loved it. It was fun to figure out what buttons to push,” you laughed. The tinkling tune of your laugh erased any negative thoughts Matt retained about the experience. He let his smile return, holding you tighter to his chest.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll return the favor,” Matt said, letting that seductive edge find its way back into his voice. You shuddered on top of him. Your thighs clenched instinctively around his. You blew a stray strand of hair out of your face, attempting to mask the want clearly written on your skin.

“3 minutes, then we’re back in business.”

“Deal.”

HUGE thanks to the Murdock Tuna Team for being the inspiration for this fic. i have them to blame for the filth that fills my head on an hourly basis.

Murdock Tuna Team 🐟: @vigilxnte-shit @pastafossa @yarrystyleeza @ecxlipse @sunflowersandsapphires @amphitrite-5 @fuckyeahpommelstrike @mar-thewriter @zomtart @what-i-call-men

#charlie cox #daredevil #matt murdock #marvel #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock smut #college!matt murdock x f!reader #i love writing matt soooooo much #getting to play with how different sounds and smells effect him #man oh man is this guy fun to tease #murdock tuna team

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