Daredevil X Reader - Blog Posts

Lollipop🍭

matt murdock x you + a daughter, mini blurb

———

it was friday evening and matt had spent his evening channeling his anger from the whole week to punching the punch bag to its oblivion. you were just hanging out watching tv, cooking weird snacks, and playing with your 3 year old. when she got tired of playing and decided to read books on her own, is when you finally get to check up on matt.

he was covered in layers of sweat that darkens the edges of that tank top he wears which shows his large biceps. with that sight a few feet away from you, your eyes are locked in and mouth hanging open while watching him take a big gulp of water from his tumbler

"sweetheart you gotta close that mouth or a fly will go inside it" matt says with a smirk. that left you very speechless for a while until you find your voice again "i... um can i lick you like a lollipop?" your blurted out, which makes matt chuckles lightly. but unfortunately, you said that last word a bit too loud because your daughter suddenly comes into the room and said "mommy has lollipop?" which brings matt into a full laughter and leaves you with a flushed face.

"oh sorry honey i don't" you said with a bit of a pout

"then why did you say you want to lick a lollipop, mommy?"

matt laughs even harder, and this makes you smile but also stressed to try and find the best answer to give to you and matt's precious one

ep 7 of ddba.... heather is literally living my y/n life bro like... the shower scene?? (MEOW-what?) matt finally calls his love interest "sweetie"? matt says I LOVE YOU???? heather being a damsel in distress???UGH WHY CANT IT BE ME

i am in dire need of dad!matt content so i decided to draw a little daddy - baby photograph moment AND NOW IM SQUEALING AT MY OWN ART AKSHSKHDJSHDKSHD

also please do ignore the abnormal hand, i cannot draw hands for the life of me

also the baby's face bcs i cannot draw faces asf

i just wanna smoochy kiss matt

DUDEEE IMAGINE y/n, matt, foggy, and karen are about to go to a halloween party and they are running out of ideas on what costumes they're gonna wear then y/n suddenly smirks and says the most absurd idea ever

y/n: matt...

matt: no. i know what you're gonna say. no!

foggy: what

y/n: 😏😏 you should wear the daredevil suit

matt: absolutely not! people will know!

y/n: matt, absolutely NO ONE will know! it'll be so funny!

matt: y/n no!! it's dangerous!

karen: i like your style y/n 🤣

obviously they didn't go with the idea but it was funny

oh my god this was heartbreaking... I LOVE IT 😭😭😭😭

90 days // matt murdock x reader

summary: it takes 90 days for you to break the habit of loving a dead man.

warnings: angst with a happy ending, TW: severe depression and shutting down so please please please read with caution if you are sensitive to material like this, season 3 matt so i mean...fake dead, lol. some cute foggy and karen moments for our little hearts perhaps? who knows, this is a long one, my bad guise

masterlist || add yourself to my taglist

inspired by 90 days by p!nk (well not really but i got the idea while listening to this song)

day 1 when you'd found out, you were a mess. you'd fallen to your knees in the police station, screams laced in pain and agony leaving your mouth as you sobbed. foggy fell to his knees besides you, scooping you up in his arms as you pleaded with a god you didn't believe in to bring him back to you. you'd spent the following week screaming and crying and begging any higher power that possibly exists to bring him back. you screamed at them in a fit of rage, infuriated that they took him from you. foggy had stopped by the day before the funeral and found you sitting on the shower floor, the bathroom door wide open, still in your clothes in a borderline catatonic state, letting boiling hot water pour on top of you.

he'd panicked and shut off the water, grabbing your face and checking for any real damage as he did his best not to cry. but when your eyes met his, you'd just broke down, grasping at his arms. without question or contest, he'd climbed into the wet bathtub and held you and your sopping wet clothes close to him. cradling your head against his chest, softly shushing you as you sobbed.

"i know y/n. i know." he whimpered, a small hiccup leaving his mouth as he silently cried with you.

"where is he, fog? where's his body? he needs to come home" you cried, clutching tightly to foggy's arms.

"i don't know." he cried, sniffling softly as he brushed your wet hair our of your face.

your painful sobs broke foggy's heart more than he thought it could break. you were struggling to breath as you let out loud sobs, and foggy wasn't sure how to help you. but he held you, and he stayed. once your cries softened, he helped you out of the bathtub and left to bring you dry clothes and make you something warm to drink while you took off your wet clothes and dried off your body. he turned on the heater to make the apartment warmer so you wouldn't get sick, and he'd stayed with you when you held tightly to his hand after getting you into bed.

foggy stayed and he helped you as best he could. because he knew that if it were him, matt would've taken care of foggy's family like they were his own, so he owed it to matt to take care of the only family matt had left.

day 8 it was raining the day of matt's funeral. you thought it was fitting as you watched the love of your life be lowered into the ground. or rather, his empty casket.

foggy held your hand as tightly as he could, pulling you closely to his side. and you weren't sure if it was more comforting for him or for you, but regardless, you appreciated it and him. the rain was pattering loudly against the umbrella that foggy held above the two of you.

ever since the shower incident, you hadn't spoken a word. hadn't cried, you barely ate, you had taken a sabbatical, which your boss was happy to give to you, offering you as much time as you needed. you were a shell of a person. you felt empty at best. so as you watched the priest say a prayer over matt's descending casket, you just leaned your head on foggy's shoulder, not saying a single word, not shedding a single tear.

once the funeral was over, you sat at a table in josie's, staring blankly at the wine glass in front of you. giving a tight smile and a nod when anyone would come up to you and offer their condolences. foggy sat with you the whole night, holding your hand through it all, trying his best to talk you through things. but as much as you loved foggy, you weren't interested in his endless optimism at the moment.

day 14 you could always be found in you and matt's shared loft, either on the couch or in your bed, on matt's side, clinging to his pillow. sometimes, you found the energy to sit at the counter and stare at the wall. you had nothing left in you to give. foggy and karen worried heavily. every time they'd come to see you, you were thinner, your eyes more sunken in and dark. today when they walked in, you were in bed, hadn't showered or eaten in at least two days from what they could tell. so foggy and karen helped you out of bed and into the shower where they sat you in the bathtub and foggy went to bring you some of your favorite soup while karen washed your hair. you remained silent and catatonic as karen gently gently rinsed you off. she'd dried you off and helped you into new clean clothes and sat with you on the couch, softly brushing your hair.

"i know it's hard. and it's okay to be depressed, but we're worried about you. i don't...i don't think you're okay, y/n. i think...i think you need some help." she sighs as she pulls the brush through your hair.

you don't say anything, you just sit there. you knew she was right. you did need help. and you were never against getting help. but you had no energy to get out of the house and go talk about your feelings. you didn't want to talk. you didn't want to do anything.

when foggy came back, he had multiple bags of food in his hands. each containing your favorite soups and foods from different take out places. they'd sat with you on the couch, making sure that you'd at least eat a little bit of the food foggy had brought you. and you did. you ate until you couldn't bring yourself to grab the spoon anymore. after a while, karen had gone home and foggy sat next to you in bed, and you'd laid you head on his lap, laying in silence as he softly pet your head.

"i know karen already talked to you, but you need help y/n. i'm so worried about you. i...i can't lose you too. you don't have to talk when you get there. i'll set everything up, and drive you there and pick you up. all of it just...please. you need help." foggy pleads.

you lay there for a moment, bringing the blanket further up your arms.

"okay" you squeak out.

foggy swore in that moment, he'd never heard a sound more beautiful than when you'd spoke.

day 35 after some time, the antidepressants and the therapy started to help and you started to speak again. and then you started to go out. you started small. first it was the corner store, then it was the supermarket, then it was target, and suddenly you found yourself back at work. your coworkers offered you as much support as they could, but remained at a distance, not wanting to feel like they were pushing you. the first week or two of work was difficult. you kept hoping you'd come home and he'd be in the living room. and coming back to an empty home that used to be shared did more damage than you thought it would.

"you want to sell it?" karen asks, furrowing her eyebrows

"yeah" you mumbled, poking at the pasta on your plate.

"why?"

"i just...i can't do it anymore, karen. it feels like i'm living in a tomb. i have to move on. i have to get better." you sighed, putting your fork down and picking up your drink.

"don't." she shakes her head.

"don't?"

"you should move out. move on. be happy. but don't sell it. i'll pay the bills. just please, don't. not yet at least." she pleads, reaching across the table and grabbing your hand.

you pause, contemplating it for a moment, and then you nod.

"okay."

day 53 you'd found a beautiful apartment not too far from your workplace. the neighborhood was nice, mostly families. it took you a little while to adjust, but eventually, you did. your routine began to look a little more normal. and every sunday night, karen and foggy would come over for dinner and you did your best to move on and be happy. you were sure that at some point, you wouldn't be pretending anymore, and that you'd actually be happy.

you were right.

you were slowly reverting back to the social butterfly that you used to be. of course you missed matt. everyday you did. but you'd accepted that he wasn't coming back, no matter how much groveling and praying and begging you did. he was gone. and all you had left was the memory. and you had learned to be okay with that.

of course every now and then you'd find yourself stopping by the loft and sitting in front of his closet, leaving the doors open and breathing him in. finding comfort in the lingering glimpses you'd catch of him. you were sure that there wouldn't be a day that goes by where you didn't think of him, miss him. he was the love of your life. and he always would be.

but you also knew that at some point, you had to let him go.

day 76 you regularly visited his grave. keeping the stone clean and adorning his final resting place with beautiful fragrant flowers. a piece of you hoped that if they smelled strong enough, he could smell them even in the afterlife.

most times you went, foggy came with you. foggy did his best to stick by you, to support you and your choices, and you two had leaned on each other a lot through your grieving processes. you both had attempted to cling to the pieces of matt that he'd left in you both. and you'd found peace in each other.

"i like it short like this." you smiled, spinning around in the barbers chair next to foggy as he looked nervously between you and the mirror.

"you think so?" he asked, scrunching his eyebrows.

"i do. it looks good. you look very clean cut. but in a good way" you nodded, a small smile on your lips as you brought your coffee up to your lips, taking a sip.

"good good." he breathes out nervously as the barber brushes the fine piece of hairs away.

you and foggy leave the barber, walking along the street and as you toss your coffee away, foggy just smiles at you.

"you look better." he notes, making your chest swell with pride.

"thank you. it took a while, but...i'm getting there and for now, i'm okay." you smile.

and for the first time in a long time, you weren't lying when you told foggy you were fine.

day 90 you were stood inside of matt's apartment for the first time in a very long time. you breathed in the air, the surrounding smells were still the same despite karen only coming occasionally. you stood there in silence, just looking, when suddenly the door slams open, making you jump.

"matt!"

you furrow your eyeborws as karen storms in, foggy in tow.

"what the hell is going on?" you ask, looking as karen searched the apartment.

"did you know?" she asked, turning towards you.

"know what? foggy, what's going on?"

foggy sighs, his entire demeanor falling, his shoulder drooping as he walked over to grab your hands.

"let's sit down, yeah?" he says, grabbing your arms and seating you on the couch.

"foggy please, what's going on? why is karen looking for matt? he's dead the last time i checked." you chuckled nervously, the nerves bundling in your stomach.

foggy paused, his mouth opening and closing.

"no...he's not."

you suck in a breath and your chest starts to tighten. you just smile, shaking your head.

"that's not funny, fog."

"i wish this was a cruel joke. i do. but it's not. he's alive. he came and saw me last night. told me that we were in danger because fisk is out now." he explained, petting your head and keeping hold of your hand.

you didn't know how to react, so you sat there, a blank stare on your face, your moth fallen slightly open, and a single tear falling down your face.

"a-alive?" you whimpered.

foggy quickly wiped the tears from your face and nodded.

"yeah. alive."

"w-why would he do that?"

"exactly! why would he let us think he was dead!?" karen shouted making you wince.

you sat there trying to process as foggy said that the matt who came to see him wasn't the same matt that we knew, that something was wrong, missing.

"i have to go home." you breathed out, just standing up from the couch and walking out the door.

you couldn't handle any of it. so when you got home, you sat on your floor, and you cried.

day 92 you were stood with foggy, smiling and talking with everyone as foggy campaigned. foggy had his hand placed on the small of your back as you took a photo together in front of the banner. as he announced he'd be there to answer any questions, foggy's gaze shifted to a man walking in.

"i got a few." he asked, taking slow steps towards you two.

"like...what's the secret ingredient in your world famous nelson's sub?"

"a uh, soft robiola."

"mmm...perfect. team at work is gonna love that. uh. give me six."

"oh, theo can help you, actually. he's at the counter." you smiled, shifting your weight slightly to create a window to theo.

"is there anything else?" foggy asks.

"yeah, when was the last time you or ms. y/l/n saw matt murdock?"

"who're you?" foggy asked, standing up taller.

the man said nothing, just held up his badge. and your stomach dropped, causing you to lose your balance. foggy grabbed your arms, stabilizing you.

what the hell have you done, matt

day 105 foggy and karen tried to keep you out of everything going on at the request of matt. despite what matt had done, he did it because he loved you. he did it to protect you. and foggy and karen just wanted to shield you from more hurt.

but they weren't there to stop him from climbing into your window the evening after he'd finally defeated fisk.

you were stood in your kitchen, humming along to the song on the radio.

"hi."

you jumped and let out a yelp, dropping the knife on the ground and turning around to see matt stood on your living room, a somber look on his face.

"what're you doing here?" you ask, your voice harsh and cold.

matt let out a breath, feeling his way across your apartment, closer to you. he could hear your heartbeat accelerating. and as angry as you were, and as much as you wanted to hit him and scream at him, which you would, you wanted more to just hold him.

you'd had time to come to terms with the fact that matt was alive. you were still angry, unbelievably so, but you'd guessed that one of the gods you'd prayed to had finally listened.

"can we talk?" he asked, leaning on your kitchen island across from you.

you stood there, staring at him, tears prickling your eyes.

"now you want to talk? after i screamed and cried and spent thousands of dollars at a mental health facility and on antidepressants? after i buried you into the fucking ground!" you cried, taking a step towards him and hitting his chest.

"y/n i-"

"i wanted to die, matt! i didn't want to live anymore! your death broke me and it was all for nothing!" you yelled as you threw punches into his chest like he was a punching bag.

and at some point, you were just hitting him as you yelled and cried. tears were running down matt's face and he eventually grabbed your hands, stopping you, and pulling you into his arms.

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry. i'm so sorry." he whispered into your hair and he held you tightly against his chest.

"you're not here. you're not real." you cried in denial of the man holding you in his arms, and he shook his head.

"i'm real. and i'm here, baby. i'm here and i'm not going anywhere." he breathe out, entangling a hand into your hair and clinging to your body like you'd wither away soon.

you cried and breathed him in, letting any guard you'd previously put up fall. your knees buckled and matt gently kneeled, sitting on the ground as he held you. you clung to his shirt and you both cried. matt pressed soft and gentle kisses into your hairline.

you'd eventually cried yourself out and you were just sitting on the kitchen floor with matt, your half cooked dinner now cold and sitting on the stove. your wine on the counter now warm. matt's fingers combing through your hair. you'd sat in silence until your phone rang out. you just stood up without a word, silencing your phone and grabbing the pill case on your counter. you stared at it, and matt stared at you. he stood up, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking his head into your neck.

"i'm sorry."

"i know."

you quickly took the pills before shutting the case and just leaning on the counter, letting matt hold you some more.

to be quite honest, you weren't sure what to feel. you weren't sure if you should be angry still or if you should just enjoy that fact that the love of your life was in fact, not dead. but for now, you just wanted to be with him.

you grabbed his hands, unwrapping them and intertwining one of your hands as you walked over to your bedroom. you'd changed into a sleep shirt and without having to say anything, matt had taken off his shirt and pants and crawled into bed with you. you laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, confirming that he was alive, that he was here.

"i promise, i'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. if you'll let me." he said softly

"please don't leave again." you whimpered.

"never. i promise." matt tightened his arms around you and you looked up, placing a hand on his cheek.

you scooted up and leaned your forehead on his, your noses touching.

"i'll stay for as long as you let me. and even after that." he said, softly confessing to you.

you just look into his eyes, your hand on his cheek, and you lean in slowly. matt's arm moves up and he gently places his hand on your jaw before meeting you halfway, pressing his lips on yours. he could heart your heart quite literally skip a beat, and you let your hand move into his hair.

you pulled away and gently pushed the hair out of his face.

"i can't handle it again. i'm serious. i can't."

he just nodded, and held you close to him as you both drifted to sleep. and for the first time since his death, you slept through the night without any nightmares.

and when you woke up every day after that, he was still there, like he promised he would be.

taglist:

@luvr-bunnyy @glowstick-lesbian @anothersworld @mrbillymontgomery @inas-thing @fuck-goes-on @eddiemvnsonss @nia_um @multibishh @takeyour-pants-off @afootnoteinyourhappiness

have we, as a fandom, like collectively agree on matt's birthday? or is there already a canonical date on matt's birthday? BCS WHEN ARE WE GOING TO CELEBRATE HIS BIRTHDAY?? 😭😭😭

i haven't written in so long but i have this fic idea of matt x y/n which they went ice skating with foggy and karen so does anyone wanna write that or maybe someone already has? pls it would be so cute 😭

A birthday punishment and a birthday gift.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader

Summary: After your boyfriend comes back home after leaving his birthday party early to let the Devil out, you play with him in the shower.

Word count: 2017

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI. SMUT, sub!Matt, dom!reader, handjob, choking, edging, just a tiny bit of overstimulation, praise kink, pet names (baby, sweetheart, sunshine), spending too much time in the shower (guys c'mon save water). Afab reader but no pronouns used.

A/N: I wouldn't say this is a tall!reader fic but I wrote it as being roughly the same height as Matt. I don't think it matters that much anyway so... enjoy!

Please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment if you enjoyed it <3

Masterlist

You were sound asleep when he came back from patrolling. As always, he made his way to the shower before getting in bed, careful not to make any sound that could wake you up.

Matt was being extra careful tonight, though. You tried to hide it but you were pissed at him for leaving his birthday party early to go devil around the Kitchen. And he understood, you were right to be angry and he'd try to make it up to you later when you woke up.

The sound of the shower ended up rousing you from your sleep. Normally, you would've gone back to sleep, knowing your boyfriend was back, but you had other plans tonight.

You had been a bit angry initially when you got home from the party and he went to put on the suit instead of spending the night with you, but at the same time, what were you expecting? You knew who you were dating and you ultimately couldn't be mad at him.

You stripped from your pajamas and made your way to the bathroom. Technically, it wasn't his birthday anymore and you knew he'd be tired, but you still wanted to do something for him.

Matt had his back to you, facing the wall as he scrubbed his hair clean. You stepped inside, your arms wrapping around his body from behind as you buried your face on the crook of his neck, leaving a kiss there.

"Sorry for waking you up." Matt said, placing his hand on top of yours on his chest.

"It's fine… We have unfinished business anyway." You nuzzled him below his ear, hugging him tighter and pressing your front against his broad back, your hands starting to roam across his torso.

Matt shuddered, leaning instinctively into your touch. He always craved your touch, especially now when he thought you would still be mad at him.

"I'm sorry for goi-" He started to apologize, intending to turn around, but you shushed him and kept him in place, your nails dragging down his sides to the tops of his thighs, making his breath hitch.

"Be a good boy and let me do what I want." You said against his skin, gently sucking on it but being careful enough to not leave a mark.

Matt let out an almost inaudible "Fuck", tilting his head to give you more space on his neck, feeling the rush of blood to his already hardening cock.

You smirked at his response before resuming your kisses, moving to his back. You kissed and gently bit his shoulders, your hands moving to his chest to rub his nipples before going down his abdomen, grazing his skin while your lips kissed down his spine until you kneel behind him.

Matt kept himself still by pressing his hands against the tiles, letting his head drop as his breath quickened.

"Please…" He breathed out. Your hands were now exploring the inside of his thighs. He was painfully hard and you had touch him everywhere except where he needed it the most, the feeling on his sensitive skin almost maddening.

"I know, baby, you just gotta be patient…" Your hands now leaving his front to grope his ass, playfully biting on one of his butt cheeks and making Matt huff, before getting back up.

You kissed your way up his spine again before resting your head on his shoulder, one of your hands moving down the trail of hair on his abdomen and finally wrapping around his cock, slowly starting to move up and down his length.

Matt's head tilted back as a moan went past his lips, the stream of water now hitting his chest, his mouth slacking when your hand focused on his tip, the precum coating your hand.

You nipped at his ear and suckled on his earlobe as you picked up the pace, pumping him both faster and harder, the nails of your other hand digging on his hip where you kept him from moving.

Matt's moans got louder and his hips tried to sloppily thrust against your hand. Even with the water and steam saturating the air and muffling his senses, he could smell your arousal, feel your hard nipples and the strong beat of your heart on his back making his go even faster.

You felt him tense up when your other hand went to fondle with his balls, making you smirk, the hand on his dick keeping a steady pace.

"I'm gonna-Fuck, sweetheart I'm gonna cum." Matt struggled to say in between breaths.

That was your cue to stop, making him whimper at the loss of contact when he thrusted into nothing.

"Sorry baby, you can't come now. I'm not done yet." You told him, kissing below his ear, his neck and shoulder as your hands rub his hips trying to soothe him.

"Is… is this my punishment for going out tonight?" Matt asked as he panted, his hands dropping to his sides as he came down from the edge.

"Mhmm…" You hummed, trailing kisses from one shoulder to the other to give it some attention.

"I guess I deserve it." He huffed a chuckle.

One of your hands traveled across his body to grab his jaw, making him turn his head so you could see his flushed beautiful face.

"Open." You ordered him, your index and middle finger brushing against his rosy lips, waiting for him to let them in.

Matt obeyed without hesitation, humming at the taste of your fingers as they slid over his tongue.

"That's it, baby. You look so beautiful like that." You praised on his ear, the encouragement making him thrust into the air again, needing to feel some friction again as he sucked on your fingers. "So needy." You cooed, leaving a kiss on his jaw as your other hand went to wrap his painfully hard cock, starting to jerk him off again.

You kept fucking Matt's mouth with your fingers as you allowed him to fuck himself with your fist, his hands holding onto your arms. You didn't have to tell him, he knew he couldn't touch you when he was at your mercy.

You felt his hips falter, his body tensing up again, so you quickly took your fingers from his mouth with a wet popping sound. His lips searched for them for a second but they were gone, your hand grabbing the column of his neck, keeping him firmly in place without choking him, the hand on his dick slowing down and stopping right before he could come.

Matt whined and turned his head towards your face. "Please, sunshine, I can't take it." He pleaded, the hot air of his panting hitting your face.

"Oh but you can, my love. I know you can take it." You nuzzled his nose, your lips hovering his but not touching.

Matt tried to kiss you but you moved away, making him whine again when you kissed his stubbled cheek instead. He almost cried in that moment, not being able to kiss you being arguably worse than not being allowed to cum. "God, please, Y/n…"

You decided it was enough punishment for today and sighed. "Okay, okay… I'll let you come next time. You know I love it when you beg for me." You said, your thumb lovingly caressing his throat.

You reached your free hand between your bodies to cover your fingers with the slick pooled between your folds before taking his throbbing, weeping cock on your hand once again, knowing you'd get a reaction from your boyfriend with heightened senses.

And you were right, Matt had been smelling the sweet, tangy scent of your arousal this whole time, but having it coat his cock and mix with his own fluids made his eyes roll back, his mouth going slack again as he breathed through it to get a better taste of you.

You moved your fist up and down his length, slow and hard at first, then picking up the pace as he got worked up again.

He was a moaning, panting mess in your arms, rutting into your tight fist almost desperately.

He wasn't going to last much longer, so you decided to finally squeeze the sides of his neck, just enough to make him dizzy.

"C'mon, come for me, I know you want to…" You mumbled against his shoulder, looking down so you wouldn't miss it and kissing whatever skin was available as you encouraged him.

The throbbing in his ears and the light-headed feeling was just what he needed to tip him over the edge, Matt's hips erratically moving as his cum covered your hand.

You squeezed him tighter, slowly milking him until the last drop. "Mmm… that's it, my love. You did so well…" You praised releasing your grip on his neck and soothing his throat, peppering kisses along his jaw.

Thinking he was done, you went to pull your cum-coated hand away, but Matt quickly grabbed you by the wrist to keep it in place, rubbing his oversensitive dick against your hand.

"More, please…" He breathed out in a whine, testing the waters by holding your hand in his, making you make a fist around his cock to keep thrusting.

"Okay, just 'cause it's your birthday." You chuckled, resting your head on his shoulder and your free arm wrapped around his waist to rest there with his. "Let me see how you fuck yourself with my fist."

The friction is so addictively painful, making Matt want more and more of it even if he had already cum.

It didn't take a lot more thrusts for another orgasm to wash over him, making him tremble and hiss at the pain, his knees almost giving up as a few more drops of cum came out of his spent cock.

You gave him a last, gentle pump that made him shake, slacking against your body as his threatened to give up.

You shushed him, holding him tightly and rubbing your hand on his abdomen to calm him down.

Matt took a moment to even his breath out before turning to face you, his nose nuzzling yours. "Are you gonna let me kiss you now?"

"Yeah, c'mere…" You raised a hand to the back of his neck to pull him in, your lips finally connecting with his in a slow, tender kiss, Matt's arms wrapping around your waist to hold you tight against him.

Without breaking the kiss, he placed both of you under the stream of water, his hands leaving your waist to gently grab your face, intending to break the kiss to say something, but ultimately being unable to do it, indulging in the feeling of your soft lips brushing against his for a bit more.

"Let me do something for you too…"

"I think we've wasted enough water, Matt." You chuckled and reached to stop the running water, now that it had already washed away the remnants of Matt's orgasm of your skin.

"In bed, then." He insisted, nuzzling your nose again as his hands left your face to trail down your body.

"Don't think I haven't noticed the bruise on your ribs, Devil." It wasn't that you didn't want him to fuck you. In fact, that's all you had been wanting all night long. But he was hurt, and you knew he would not care if he made his injuries worse if that meant he satisfied you.

Matt sighed, rubbing your hip before smirking at you, leaning in. "I'll tell you what, we can go to sleep now or we can go to bed and you sit on my face. I don't have to move anything but my mouth." He said in a low, suggesting tone, the grip on your hip tightening at the thought of tasting you.

You bit your lower lip, your neglected pussy clench around nothing at his words. "Fuck, Matt… I can't argue with that."

Matt's smirk grew into a satisfied smile before kissing your lips again, more passionately this time. "Let's get out of here then, can't wait to taste my birthday gift."

I LOVE THIS SO SO SO MUCHHHH AAAAA

She said, "What's on your mind?"// I said, "Your skin"

Pairing: Matt Murdock x AFAB Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, Established relationship, Mirror stuff, like pussy worship if you squint

Author’s Note: I just think we should all be more comfortable looking at ourselves and getting to know our bodies and I like to image Matt would want that too. I really need to wash my hair but I also just ate so I wrote this while I waited for my stomach to settle

Post-orgasm Matt was clingy and soft but he claimed that was only for you. After a round of morning sex, you and him were on top of the covers. You were leaning against the headboard. His head was on your mound with his right ear pressed against your crotch while you played with his hair. You weren’t sure if he was listening to his cum moving around in your uterus or the pulse that was still throbbing in your loins.

There was a mirror parallel to where you and Matt were laying, giving the perfect view of your post-orgasmic state. Even though you knew he wasn’t, the way Matt’s head was resting it was almost like he was looking directly at your body in the mirror. “Tell me what you look like”

You rolled your eyes. “Matt you know what I look like.” You went on to give a very utilitarian description of the colour of your hair, your eyes, your height, your body type all the standard stuff that would show up if you got roped into more of Matt’s shenanigans and ended up as a fugitive on Unsolved Mysteries.

“That’s not what I mean.” Matt hooks his hands underneath the flesh of your thighs and spreads your legs as far as they would go, having your plush, dewy folds completely exposed in the reflection of the mirror. You had never really seen yourself like this.

“Every time I think I’ve got your body mapped and figured out there’s always something new that I find that takes my breath away.” You smiled thinking about the other night when Matt shifted the angle of his thrust. He found a new spot inside of you that made his breath hitch and you moan so pretty around his cock.

Matt’s fingers parted your labia using two fingers to hold the puffy lips apart to expose your glistening flesh. “So tell me, gorgeous, what do you look like?”

Part 2

chat... we are so so back. (im actually tweaking rn ehehe)

okay, i’m hurt-

“What we had was so special and you walked away from it.” with matt. I’m always here for the angst 🥲

-💜

Oh and now some Matt angst. That boy lives in a world of angst so he will fit right in.

You couldn't even bare to look at him. He hovered in your living room like a lost puppy. He played with his fingers and then the hem of his hoodie over and over in a nervous cycle. You'd been talking for hours, you were getting nowhere and your feelings hadn't changed. You hurt from head to toe and you didn't find yourself any closer to forgiveness.

"What you did was..." you heaved in a weighted breath to steady yourself, trying desperately not to shout cause you knew the walls were paper thin and the baby next door was having sleeping trouble lately.

"Unforgiveable I know" he finished your sentence, his voice it's usual low calm tenor. It was almost irritating to you now. How could he be so... still?

"What we had was so special and you walked away from it" your words shook as your spoke, your breath rattling into your lungs.

He nodded, eyes downcast to the floor, "I know"

He stepped forward and in tandem you stepped back, "Please don't"

"You won't even let me touch you?" he asked, hurt instantly painting his face. His eyebrows were scrunched inwards and his mouth pulled down into a frown.

You rubbed the heal of your palm into your tired eyes, "Matt I...." you paused, "No, I won't let you touch me. I need you to leave"

His face broke it's steely gaze even further as he began to cry, you turned your back to him unable to witness him cry. The ache in your chest grew larger as you listened to his heavy breathing.

"Please" he whispered, "Just try?"

You sighed but didn't turn around, "I did"

This is so good oh my gosh!! I love the sassy main character and Daredevils reaction!! If you ever want to write more for this, please feel free to tag me in it!!

THE DEVIL'S GAME

MATT MURDOCK X VIGILANTE!READER

Summary - Seeking retribution, you find yourself wandering into Hell's Kitchen, only to become ensnared by the Daredevil himself.

Warnings - 18+, broken bones, blood, flirty shit, vaguely suggestive

Word Count - 2.9k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t your neighborhood.  

But you hadn’t thought twice about it before leaving the comfort of your home, abandoning Queens to fulfill a dream of paltry retribution.  

Any other night and you might have considered the consequences of crossing into the Kitchen, but tonight your judgment had been clouded by an opportunity to finally lay your hands on the slippery brute that had gotten under your skin as of late.  

And, by the time you realized that you had willingly traipsed into the Devil’s Realm, it had been far too late.  

Farlin Costain was a particularly skilled pick-pocket, renowned amongst his fellow New York gutter rats—including petty thieves, drug dealers, and the likes—for his stealth and cunning. Typically, you wouldn’t have bothered with someone so low on the food chain, leaving him for some smaller vigilante to handle.  

Unfortunately for Costain, he made a costly mistake when he had made a target of your sweet, innocent roommate last week. And while you once wouldn’t have spared Costain so much as a second glance, you now had every intention of making him regret the very day he was born.  

“C’mon Farly! Already giving up?” You sang, patronizing him as you pressed your foot down harder against his breastbone. “I thought you wanted to play! Remember?”  

Word spread like wildfire that you were looking for Costain as every back-alley criminal in New York gossiped about what he must’ve done to catch your eye. Because of this, it only took a few days for Costain to catch wind that you were on his trail—and, being an absolute moron, he spent an entire drunken night in Scruffy Duffy’s Saloon bragging to friends and strangers alike that, should you find him, he could easily take you in a fight.  

Alas, the bartender at Duffy’s—an old informant of yours—was glad to send you a text detailing Costain’s visit. The pieces fell into place quickly after that, and soon you found out that the asshole was staying in a shitty mid-rise apartment just down the street from the bar.  

He hadn’t heard you when you skillfully leapt from the neighboring building, landing atop his apartment to spy him and a few of his cut-purse buddies passing a joint. As soon as you stepped into the light, his friends scurried like roaches, darting for the door to the stairwell.  

None of them were particularly recognizable, and since your vendetta wasn’t with them, you gladly let them escape.  

But not Costain.  

“Fucking cunt!” Costain wheezed beneath your weight, writhing on the gravel that lined the rooftop and spitting blood on your shiny black boots. You grimaced—disgusting.  

“Is that the best you’ve got? Blood can be cleaned up—but it’s gonna take weeks for your nose to heal. Do you really want your friends to find out that you couldn’t take me? That you couldn’t even get a hit in?” You continued to chastise him, head cocking to the side as you examined the blood still gushing from his now crooked nose.  

To Farlin’s credit, he had tried to fight back, having pulled a switchblade out as soon as you made a move for him. Unfortunately for him, the stealth needed to swipe wallets and watches was as far as his combat skills seemed to go, and it had taken you less than a few seconds to send the blade tumbling over the edge of the rooftop, clanking on the sidewalk below.  

But what Costain lacked in skill, he certainly made up for in spirit.  

“I can’t fucking breathe!” He rasped; his throat still raw from all the screaming he’d done after the nauseating crunch of his nasal bones. Thrashing beneath you, he lifted his hands to your ankle and began clawing and hitting and scratching, desperately trying to pry your foot off of his chest. “Get off!”  

You didn’t so much as flinch as his fists whirled at your calf, nor did you relieve any of the pressure you were applying to his breast. Instead, you pressed even harder, giving him a wicked grin.  

“You’re left-handed, aren’t you?” You mused, noting the slight weakness of the punches coming from his right. “Are you ambidextrous?”  

Gasping, Costain’s eyes lit with fury as a strangled sound ripped from his throat, growling at you.  

“I’ll take that as a no,” You hummed, your cheshire grin growing wider now. “They say that anyone can learn, y’know. How to use both hands.”  

Crouching down, you forced more of your weight onto him as you leaned over his face, your loose hair grazing his cheek. The fury in his eyes had already extinguished, replaced with an icy fear. His arms began to fall limp at his sides, his body too oxygen deprived to keep fighting you.  

“If you wanna learn,” you droned, tracing a single digit along the curve of his plump, blue lips, “then I’d be glad to give you some encouragement.”  

Faster than light, you slid your weight off his chest, rising above him. Farlin heaved at the loss of pressure, miserably trying to fill his aching lungs with air.  

Too delirious to fight back, he didn’t even notice when you lunged for his wrist, grabbing hold and hastily yanking him to his feet. You pressed your other hand right above his elbow, giving it all your force as you snapped his arm at the joint, the bones splintering and giving a deeply satisfying CRUNCH!  

Farlin had filled his greedy lungs with just enough oxygen to let out a gnarly scream as the pain washed over him like a tidal wave, sending him crumbling to his knees in front of you.  

“Damn, my bad,” you huffed, frowning at the sight of him, hot tears streaming down his cheeks as he clutched his right arm. “I was supposed to break the left one, wasn’t I? I can be such a ditz sometimes, huh? But no worries—I can fix this!”  

You went to reach for his left arm, taking far too much pleasure in the terror that ignited in his glossy eyes, but the adrenaline now pumping in his veins gave him an edge. Using his newfound chemical courage to try and scramble away from your assault, he managed to just barely evade the quick swipe of your hand, only to then fall backwards onto his ass.  

You snorted a laugh at him—useless.  

Too terrified to try and make a second attempt at escape, Costain only looked up at you with pleading eyes, silently begging you to leave him alone. You considered it for a second—just one—scrounging deep within yourself for even a trace of pity for the thief.  

Unfortunately, you came up empty-handed, as you often did when dealing with trash like Costain.  

You went for his left arm a second time, but as soon as you took a single step, something stopped you.  

No—scratch that—not something, but someone.  

A muscular arm wrapped around your middle, trapping your arms at your sides. You went to make your escape, but before you could tense even a single muscle, another arm wrapped around your throat—not applying pressure, not yet, but effectively trapping you and leaving you incredibly vulnerable.  

“I think he’s had enough for one night,” a luscious voice spoke in your ear, the warmth of their breath grazing along your neck, “Don’t you?”  

You were as still as a doe in headlights, carefully flicking your gaze down to the arms wrapping around you. Noticing the all-black sleeves that covered them, you sunk your teeth into your cheek. As far as you could tell from your current position, there was nothing discernable about the mystery man holding you hostage.  

“Not at all,” you admitted to him, cunning as ever. “I was just getting started.”  

The man gave a disapproving grunt. “You’ve already terrified him. He can hardly breathe,” he pointed out as if you weren’t aware of the heaving mess lying on the ground in front of you.  

“Even better,” you quipped, trying not to flinch when the arm around your waist suddenly tightened. “I like it when they’re afraid.”  

His breath caressed your skin again as he scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I don’t care what kind of sadistic game you like to play with these men, but keep it your own borough, got it? I’ve heard about what you’ve done in Queens—and my neighborhood isn’t open to being your new playground.”  

The declaration gave you pause. Your breath caught in your throat as you suddenly remembered where you were and whose territory you had crossed into and made a mess in. His neighborhood– 

Fuck—you swallowed, only to find that your mouth had gone dry—he’s the fucking Daredevil.  

Costain seemed to put the pieces together at the same time as you. And, while still weeping over his shattered nose and broken arm, decided to crawl towards the infamous Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, hiding behind him and deciding to take his chances with him over you.  

Fucking coward.  

“I didn’t realize the Devil kept tabs on the rest of us,” you teased, trying to settle the pounding of your heart as you grappled with the dangerous fact that the Daredevil knew who you were. “You never bother coming to the annual vigilante sleepovers.”  

He hummed, but there was no hint of amusement. “I only keep tabs on the one's worth knowing about—and you have been making quite a mess. Last I heard, you were leaving innocent men mangled and bloody on every street corner from Queens to Brooklyn.”  

Irritation warmed your veins, blood thrumming in your ears as you howled, “Innocent?!” You gave a dry laugh, “The men I deal with are far from innocent, Devil-boy! The man you just saved is a fucking thief! And last I checked, you and I are supposed to be on the same team!”  

“We aren’t even playing the same game, sweetheart.” Daredevil corrected, the endearment slipping from his tongue sounding more like an insult than anything else. “He’s a petty thief. If your only interest was in keeping the streets clean, then you could’ve easily taken him down and left him on the doorstep of the nearest police station.”  

You cut your eyes, slumping in his hold. “And where’s the fun in that?”  

“You really are hopeless,” He snorted, unimpressed. “One broken arm is more than enough retribution for a pick-pocket. Swear you won’t touch him, and I’ll let you go.”  

“Or I could break your arm instead,” you suggested coyly, either in an attempt to flirt with or distract him.  

You tried to wiggle your arms at your sides, assessing just how much you were able to move. His own muscled arm rested just above your elbows, leaving some limited motion in your wrists and forearms. You wouldn’t be able to do much with it—nothing spectacular—but maybe…  

“If you thought you were strong enough to do that then you would’ve tried it already.” He countered.  

“Well, physical strength isn’t the only way out of a sticky situation, Devil-boy,” you reminded him. “But I’m more than confident that I could kick your ass.”  

The hold around your neck suddenly grew taut, his forearm lightly pressing against your windpipe in a subtle reminder that he was much stronger than you. “With a single move,” he purred, “I could snap your neck. Your life is in my hands.”  

Your pulse throbbed, but you didn’t panic, even as every instinct you had was screaming at you to give in—to stop antagonizing him and vow to never lay another hand on Costain again.  

But you were never very good at listening to that little voice in your head that told you what to do.  

Taking a hefty bet on your life, you used what limited motion you had in your arms to wiggle them back and slide them around his hips. You felt his muscles tense, readying himself to fight you or choke you or something, but juvenile laughter was already spilling from your lips as you brazenly cupped his backside in your palms.  

“My life might be in your hands,” you declared through a fit of giggles, “but your ass is in mine!”  

Your confidence grew when you realized that he hadn’t yet choked you out for your insolence—too stunned to react at all—and so you took full advantage of his inability to move without releasing you. Using your newfound grip on him, you shoved his crotch against your ass, grinding back against him just enough to catch him further off-guard.  

An involuntary groan slipped his lips at the rough contact, his voice gloriously low and hoarse and absolutely to die for.  

Daredevil figured you would try to fight back, but he had been expecting something along the lines of hand-to-hand combat—and not once had he considered that your preferred method of fighting would be grinding your ass against his dick.  

Shocked, unprepared, and a little horny, Daredevil took a step back to try and put space between your body’s, his grip turning lax as his blood rushed south. You took advantage of his single moment of weakness, managing to slip from his grasp with some ease now.  

“See?” You boasted, holding your arms out dramatically as you stood in front of him, finally face to face. “I told you physical strength wasn’t the only way out.”  

Daredevil was quick to regain his composure, and when you noticed a muscle feather in his jaw, you had the good sense to move swiftly into a ready position—just in case the Devil wanted to dance.  

But he made no move towards you, even as your fists lifted in his direction. He stayed where he was, clicking his tongue as he said, “You fight dirty.”  

A smirk played on your lips. “You don’t know the half of it. But don’t worry, I’m just as much a masochist as I am a sadist,” you teased, blatantly admiring the appearance of his toned muscles beneath the tight-fitting black shirt he wore, “so we can take turns, if you want.”  

He laughed, actually laughed. “Never gonna happen.”  

You stuck your bottom lip out, pouting at him, but he didn’t react.  

“Why not? Looks to me like you enjoyed having me touch you,” you spared a glance to the now sizable bulge in his dark jeans. “Tell you what, Devil-boy, let me break his other arm and I’ll consider taking care of that for you.”  

Costain gave a pathetic whimper at that, as if he too could sense the growing tension in the air and worried that Daredevil might be willing to sell-out in favor of getting off.  

Ignoring his whining, Daredevil took a step closer to you, and then another. Your body reacted, muscles growing taut as you prepared yourself to strike him. But, when he halted less than a couple of inches from you, you felt as if your bones had all but turned to jelly.  

He smelled of expensive cologne and cheap coffee, and even with the black mask covering the entire upper half of his face, you had no doubt that he was impossibly handsome. Your heart thrummed wildly in your chest, and as if he could hear it, he gave you a satisfied grin.  

“Your mouth is as filthy as your techniques,” he rebuked, though a hint of amusement and intrigue laced his tone. “Tell you what,” Daredevil mimicked you, “you’re gonna get out of my neighborhood—now. And, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stick to your side of the city from now on.” His breath fanned against your cheeks, and a warmth suddenly crept up your neck. “Got it?”  

“And if I don’t?” You felt incredibly small beneath his impressive height, having bent your neck to look up at him.  

The Devil seemed to stare down at you—no, he seemed to stare through you, though his eyes remained entirely hidden beneath the mask. You wondered what color they were, if they were as pretty as the rest of him, and how they might look rolling into the back of his head as you straddled his waist—but your fantasies were cut short as he stretched an arm towards you and roughly caught your jaw in his hand.  

You grunted at the unexpected contact, the sound making his grin grow wider. His nails scraped lightly against your cheek as you tried to jerk away from the touch, but it was a futile attempt. “If you don’t,” he muttered, leaning in closer as his tongue glided across his lips, enticing you further, “then I’ll make sure that you regret it.”  

A bit breathless, you tried your best to sound unaffected, only for the slight wobble in your voice to give you away, “Sounds like a challenge.”  

His head tilted to the side, as if he were watching you, listening to the erratic pounding in your chest and the sound of blood rushing your veins. For a heartbeat you let your gaze fall to his chiseled jaw, to his mouth, calculating the risk of leaning in and catching his pouty bottom lip between your teeth.  

“It’s not,” he assured you, his voice thick and gruff. “It’s a promise.”  

You stifled a hiss as he released your jaw from his grip. He didn’t spare another word before turning away, the gravel crunching beneath his clunky combat boots as he went straight to Costain, heaving the thief off the ground by his non-broken arm.  

If it were anyone else stealing away your target, you likely would’ve cut them down right alongside Costain. 

But it hadn’t been just anyone—it was the Devil.  

Dumbstruck and more than mildly infatuated with the alluring Daredevil, you knew that tonight would be the first of many visits to Hell’s Kitchen. 

my brain is rotting because i've written 44+k words in a single month because i decided to rewrite infinitely you and while taking a small break from working on it i created this garbage fire of a matt murdock one shot.

thanks for reading