Benjamin Poindexter, Matthew Murdock, Buck Cashman
❦ Benjamin Poindexter
Tight. His hold on you, though suffocating at times but never lacking, is an expression of all the words he can never speak. Making you feel every ounce of just how much he wants you, needs you. His body refuses to retreat to slumber until he knows you have fallen asleep first, either because it is his instinct to make certain of your security or that you won’t leave when his eyes are closed. You can never leave with his possessive hold on you, he makes sure of that. Even as you twist and turn in your sleep, his arms a constant cage, a tight grip so protective and warm that you’re tempted to never escape. . .
Dex is only able to fall into deep sleep when he is assured that you are in his orbit, heavy arms locked over your waist or your chest, with a pull that’s stronger than an ocean’s current. Holds you like an anchor, a crushing heaviness that refuses to let go the moment you fall asleep in his embrace. Don’t be surprised, he is a man who has been deprived and hungers for physical contact, immediately latching onto you the moment you are within his range. The feeling of your back against his bare chest makes him euphoric and trust that he will keep squeezing you close to him until he feels there is no longer any space between the two of you, until your body familiarizes with the shape of his embrace.
Even as you drift off peacefully to your dreams (which he hopes are about him), he showers you with his never-ending affection by pressing kisses to any skin he could reach, your neck, your shoulders, your jaw. His thumb pressing patterns on your wrist and your cheek as he inhales the scent of your signature shampoo. His mind constantly circles on you, his light, the most important person in his gloomy life, he would do anything and kill anyone for you. Those restless thoughts only go quiet from the physical proof that you’re here, in his bed, in his space, that you continue to choose to be here despite the fragile mess that he is behind his controlled exterior.
❦ Matthew Murdock
Reverent. Matt clutches you to his chest like a devotee holding rosary. Despite your initial protests, he will pull you to rest on top of him, nevermind the lingering bruises on his chest or the small cuts on his abdomen, he’ll insist that those will heal anyways. He’s well aware that he’s injured, so what? What he needs is you, your presence and the peace that you bring him in these mere hours he is blessed with before he gives himself to the city again.
He ends your sentences before you complain because the weight of you on top of him brings him immense comfort, the rarest kind, a solace he’s been seeking since the day he met you. The city is too loud, overwhelming if he doesn’t tune out his senses. But with you resting your head on his hard chest, his defined arms over your back, he feels like he found heaven on earth. . . We know this man uses his heightened senses, not just to listen past the walls of your bedroom for any looming danger in the darkness that threatens your safety but also to ground him. He goes quiet, only to direct his entire senses on your warmth, your heavenly scent and the slight inhales and exhales as you sleep. You don’t hear how many times he whispers “I love you” like a prayer while you continue to slumber.
Can only fall asleep from the calm pattern of your heart. To him, your pulse is a rhythm that sounds like serenity. It’s a pattern he’s most familiar with, the same way he learned the prayers. He unashamedly listens to your heartbeat every night he is granted to spend with you. His large hand cradling the back of your head, stroking your hair until he falls asleep with the most content smile in his face, knowing that your heart beats only for him.
❦ Buck Cashman
Starved. Buck presents himself to be someone so collected and calm, but deep down he has been yearning to have someone to call home. He carries a quiet arrogance knowing he’s the best in his job and he’s not oblivious to the fact he carries a charm which he doesn’t bother to take advantage of when it comes to others who aren’t you. As awful as the truth may be, he is a lonely man because of his work. Because of that, he comes home to you, hungry, craving for something only you can fill. He isn’t new to physical affairs, yet Buck holds you like a man who’s been starved of an embrace for decades.
He wasn’t like others who enjoy sleeping, he only does it because it is the body’s natural requirement for him in order to perform his best. Until you arrived and disrupted that concept, now he looks forward to every night (even the early mornings) whenever he gets to have you in his side. Indulging in sleep like a greedy man only because he gets to have you with him. It never fails to surprise him whenever you fall asleep in his embrace, how someone as dangerous as him makes you feel so safe. He feels a certain triumph, nearing on possessiveness, in being the only one who gets to see you in this state.
He could never grow bored of you. In fact, watching you fall asleep is his favorite activity, a few minutes he enjoys for himself before he closes his eyes. Hiding your face to his chest while he continues his playful gestures, twirling your hair, teasing your arms with feather-light touches from the tips of his fingers, chuckling to himself when it makes you shudder in your sleep. How adorable. He simply can’t get enough of you as he’s fighting the urge to deliciously bite your exposed shoulder. If only the hours of the night lasts much longer, he wouldn’t complain at all if he gets to sleep more next to you.
Redwood's invulnerability is quite the thing to witness, especially if YOU'RE the one trying to shoot a gun at him. He's quite inspiring for how much he's willing to take on the pain side, though!
