Matt/Frank : T E E T H
Explicit. M/M.
Tags/CW: Teeth, Mouth Likely, Consensual Torture, Blood, Tooth Trauma, Dark, Romance, Don/sub, Rutting, Coming In Pants, Bloody Kisses, Please Do Not Let Matt Murdock Perform Oral Surgery On You
My gifts for @lovetincture for this year’s @daredevilexchange :D The prompt I chose to roll with was “Romantic Teeth Trauma”, and it lit a spark inside me! Which is why my gift is two moodboards, a playlist, AND a fic lol
AO3 for the playlist and Alt Text (will be live when the collection opens!)
“Are you sure about this, Frank?”
Matt crouched in front of the chair, head tilted to the side as he listened for any changes in Frank. His breathing. His heart rate. His tone. If there was any sign he wasn’t confident about his request, Matt planned to stop. Frank liked pain, sure, but this? This was beyond normal pain.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure, Red. Only you. Anyone else I wouldn’t think about it, but you? You get me. I, I trust you. Y’know?”
“And you want no anesthesia?”
“None.”
No change. Even breathing. Steady heart rate. Frank was out of his goddamn mind, letting a blind man cut out one of his teeth. The thought brought a smile to Matt’s lips. Frank was mad, but that madness, that dedication to seeing things through, that only endeared him to him. He patted Frank’s leg gently and stood up.
“Okay. Can you reach the tools, push them toward me? Please?”
The rattle of metal filled his senses, making the room feel full and featureless. Matt groaned and shook his head to clear the cloud stifling his ‘sight’. Once the tray stopped, his access to the space returned. Deep shades of red, sparked by changes in the environment, that let him see - in a sense.
His world on fire.
Frank burned brightly in his special sense. Rugged, body made of valleys and hills and broken roads, sound made him shine. And Frank? Frank shone the loudest when he screamed.
Matt placed one hand on the handle of the cart. The other hovered over the tools.
“Scalpel,” he said softly.
“Four inches to your left. Blade facing away from you.”
He followed Frank’s instructions and lifted the surgical knife from the cloth. It was cool in his grasp, the handle weighted and the blade light and sharp enough to cut through muscle and tendon. Matt let out a slow breath. His hands were steady — no tremor. No fear.
Just a blind man performing intimate oral surgery.
“Once I’m in your mouth you won’t be able to instruct me, so if there’s anything you need to say to me, Frank? Now’s the time.”
Something about Frank’s gaze, Matt could always feel . He stared at him now , and from the way his pulse quickened he knew it was affectionate. Tender. He’d seen that look once, when the sirens lit the graveyard after the Irish. That hangdog, loving look in Frank’s sad eyes turned to him now, and he was certain there was a hint of madness to it. Of thrill. Frank wanted this. Hell, it’d been his idea.
“Yeah. Yeah, I got somethin’. Yeah. Matt?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t fuck it up,” Frank teased. “I love you.”
Matt smirked.
“I know. Open up for me.”
Frank opened his mouth, as wide as he could. His wrists tugged against the handcuffs holding them to the legs of the chair, the rattle reassuring. Frank wouldn’t get out if the pain was too great, which meant Matt wouldn’t wind up with a fist in his face when he dug into the root. It was a precaution, sure, but he had to admit he liked Frank tied up.
At his mercy .
Matt slipped two fingers inside his waiting mouth and slid them along his tongue. Frank shuddered, gagging slightly as he pressed down. Drool pooled around his hand and ran down, down the curve of his chin, spattering on his bare chest. Matt felt the wetness and smiled down at Frank.
“I bet you can do better than that.”
He lifted the scalpel and guided his fingers up. Picking a molar was the hard part. Humming, Matt tapped between three of them, whispering that familiar mantra.
“One batch. Two batch. Penny and dime — Ah. This one.”
The back molar. One Frank wouldn’t even know was missing.
“Here we go, Frank.”
All he got was a huff of a growl in response.
Matt pressed the blade into the soft meat of Frank’s gum. Blood welled from the wound, mixing with the drool, and Matt wished he could see it. The ecstatic look of agony carved into Frank’s Roman features, the mess he made, the wild rush burning in his eyes… He cut again. Again. Tracing the tooth. Beneath him, Frank snarled and roared.
“That’s right. Like that. Make noise, nobody will hear you here. Nobody but me.”
His noise made it easier for Matt to see what he was doing. Vibrations traveled through his mouth, and the loose skin he sliced through swayed from side to side. Soon he had most of the tooth exposed, the gums cut and peeled back with careful - if amateur - care. Frank pulled against the cuffs and rocked the chair as his fingers touched the wound, but Matt didn’t stop.
Frank had had plenty of time to revoke consent before. He didn’t. His fingers weren’t tapping out his safeword on the wood. Frank loved being out of control, submitting to Matt in such a deep, intimate way. Pain, even the extreme kind, wasn’t foreign to their relationship nor their sex.
This, this was dedication. A declaration. One far more beautiful than any other words or gestures could be.
Matt used Frank’s moans to find the forceps. He traded out his scalpel for the pointed steel, clicking them together a few times as Frank simply sat there shaking. His lips trembled, but he kept his mouth open to the cool air.
A good dog. Loyal. Obedient.
He guided the new tool inside, easily finding his way back. The blood dripping on his knuckles couldn’t be missed. Matt’s forceps closed around the tooth and he began to pry. Grunting, he pumped his arm, moving the bone in its tight little socket. Frank roared in pain, hips coming up and rubbing against Matt’s thigh.
He was hard, hard enough that the brief touch sent a shiver down Frank’s spine. Matt grinned, his dimples deep as he pressed his thigh back in response.
“Rut. Like a dog. I wouldn’t want to leave you all worked up, not when you’re behaving for me. Go on. Consider it a reward. A treat, Frank.”
Frank didn’t hesitate. He started thrusting against Matt, breathing hard through his nose as his cock strained against his jeans. A low moan vibrated in his throat as Matt yanked again, pulling, fighting to get the tooth free of his jaw. Frank screamed around his hands, tears flowing down his cheeks, and Matt’s world burst with vivid red color. He could see Frank. See the blood. See the wide-eyed and hungry stare Frank fixed on him. He was a beacon at the center of Matt’s world, pulsing with every shuddering sob.
“Beautiful,” he said, voice low and soft. “You make the world so beautiful .”
A loud crack split the air. Another. Another, as Matt leveraged his strength to force it out. With one last tug it snapped free of Frank’s jaw, clutched firmly in the forceps. Frank slammed his hips forward as he came, eyes rolling back in his head as that final surge of pain pushed him over the edge. Matt stumbled backward and held the tooth up triumphantly. His prize. His token.
While Frank’s sounds grew quiet, Matt’s vision faded back to darkness. He couldn’t see the sloppy smile on Frank’s face as he drooled blood onto his bare chest.
“… That,” Frank slurred, barely able to move his jaw. His words were mumbled, accompanied by dribbling blood. “Is yours. Yeah. Gonna take it to, to, to your guy. Drill a hole, get a chain. Wear it. Always.”
Matt released the tooth into his hand and ran his bloody thumb over the bone.
Frank’s bone.
A piece of him, to keep forever.
“… I love you, Frank. You know that?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know. I, I love you too.”
He slipped the tooth into his pocket and lowered himself down on Frank’s filthy lap. His hands were just as messy, bloodied up almost to the elbow from Frank’s coughing and screaming. He slid one through Frank’s curls and tugged him into a rough, heated kiss. Blood filled his mouth, and Matt let it. He savored the taste of Frank. It was no different from kissing him with a split lip.
Except this time he could swallow the mess.
