#l4l.matt

[l4long-winded]

Hi, may I request Matt Murdock x reader. reader is insecure of her voice. She doesn't think it's feminine enough.

“why’d you stop reading?”

matt stares up, his eyes looking past you and at the ceiling. the lack of focus there shows you his confusion, previously hidden behind relaxed, closed lids. you sigh as you brush your hand through his hair and move your book to the side.

“it’s nothing…” you attempt.

but matt’s too perceptive for his own good. he detects the note of solemnity all too easily. his hand on your thigh squeezes softly at the muscle, kneading his way to your knee.

“talk to me,” he presses on.

you don’t want to make a thing out of this. but this morning, you heard your voice echo back to you during a work call, and then in a recording during one of karen’s stories on social media. so in this moment, you’re not up for your usual activity with matt, where you read to him while he relaxes and listens. however, you can’t hide anything from your boyfriend. he’ll ask again and then he’ll try to dissect to find the issue himself rather than let you leave it alone.

“it’s my voice,” you mutter bitterly.

“it’s lovely,” he says without hesitation. you bite your lip for a moment and wonder if it’s possible he has some kind of super ability to read your mind and know you so well.

“it’s… deeper,” you go on. it’s not faint and featherlike, naturally resting into a lower octave when you speak.

“and…?”

this is where you scramble. you’re trapped beneath his head in your lap, shifting uncomfortably, but matt doesn’t move from his spot. he finds your hand in his hair and he intertwines your fingers together, offering his thumb running along yours. more reassurance to guide you forward.

“and… it’s not… it’s not that feminine, i guess,” you mumble. if his hearing wasn’t what it was, he might’ve missed it.

his eyebrows crease inwards.

“it’s automatically feminine ‘cause it’s yours,” he replies back, looking more determined.

“don’t… you know what i mean,” you huff. the gender constructs thing being made up is not what you want to hear. it still doesn’t adhere to other voices that are lighter and softer, regardless of what it means to be masculine or feminine.

“sweetheart,” he says with a sigh. he guides your hand to his mouth and he kisses your palm in a few places, his eyes slipping closed.

“your voice is wonderful. it eases me… it’s rich… it’s pleasant… it’s my favorite sound,” he says honestly. you want to pull away and tell him he’s wrong, but he sits up, places your hand over his heart next.

“i love your voice.”

“matty—”

“stop it, i’m serious. i know what you think, but it’s not what i think, okay? it’s feminine to me and more than that.”

he can’t see that pout on your lips but he grins like he does.

“baby, keep reading. i love listening to you for a reason. i’m with you for all of it. for us, our connection, your voice included,” he continues to reassure you as he kisses your knuckles between his words. you steadily smile and resettle back into position.

matt places his head back onto your thighs. he goes back to relaxing as he listens to you read your book of choice. he enjoys this part immensely. you may have your insecurities about your voice, but to him, it’s his hymn.

[l4long-winded]

watching a movie with matt but relationship’s early and he still tells you he can’t see anything at all asking you to explain a sex scene in a movie on tv PLSSS LMAOOO

-🪱

“what else is happening?”

you squint watching matt’s lips curve further into his smirk as you describe the scene in front of the two of you. you don’t miss his hand rubbing soft circles against your inner thigh, but then again, you’re shameless in having your legs this open for him to explore.

“he… he’s turned her onto her stomach and his hand’s moving up her skirt,” you mutter back. for a moment, you think matt’s fingers are going to slide their way up to your sleep shorts from his brief pause, but instead, he changes the direction of his circles. now counterclockwise on your skin.

“sounds like it,” he confirms as he listens to the moans beginning to fill the room.

“she’s… she’s grinding against his hand, cheek on the floor. he keeps watching her with… fascination, i guess?” you try. this is making you so dizzy to think about. as she whines and pleads, closer to her actress orgasm, you can’t help but think been there, girl.

“she’s close,” he adds, and it makes you squirm when he merely moves his fingers an inch up, just at the edge of your shorts.

“matt,” you say suddenly, no longer preoccupied with the movie as you lean your chest against his arm. he lets out a long sigh hearing the louder moan, signifying climax. he’s too familiar with it.

“she’s a good actress,” he murmurs, his fingers finally trailing up your shorts, pressing to the wet patch of your panties. he doesn’t have to gloat out loud. his face says it all. that amusement he has written there constantly.

“shh… keep talkin’ to me.” matt moves your panties aside as you breathlessly describe the aftermath between the on screen couple. he’s one digit, knuckle deep before the second act. of course he purposely chose a movie full of sex scenes off foggy’s recommendation.

he’ll have to thank him later.

[l4long-winded]

l4l presents... kinktober day twenty-nine

today's act: degradation, starring matt murdock

admonitions: fem!reader, oral (m receiving, f referred to).

word count: 726

“are you always this desperate?”

matt’s hand rests on the back of your head, fingertips brushing your scalp as his digits sporadically twitch after every kiss you bestow onto his growing bulge. he fills his pants out nicely. the material stretches, tents charcoal slacks, the heat of your mouth seeps through the layers of fabric separating him from you. the pulses kiss your lips back, enliven with need, the same need he condescends you for. it’s not like it doesn’t turn you on; he’s well aware of how hard you’re squeezing your thighs together from how your knees continue to rub his pant legs.

“you’re all over my dick and you’ve yet to actually take my pants off. you know how to work a zipper, don’t you?”

relief floods him as you scramble to drag his zipper down after that. you’re always so complicit and willing for him. the apparent desire that runs through your system causes your hands to tremble and it gratifies the manner he speaks to you. matt never has to explicitly ask for what he wants, even if he does sometimes in sweeter settings. not with his sly mouth, knowledge he consistently uses to rile you up, earnestness his tone and the content behind his sentences brew up within you.

“look at you, all vigor and greed. bet you’ll take every inch like a good little cockslut. you’ve thought about this all day, i can tell. can’t function without a dick in your mouth. we’ll remedy that soon enough.”

the power admittedly goes to his head much like the blood travels down south to the bulbous portion of his cock you free with those shaky hands. he hisses as your tongue immediately licks the pre cum slathered on his tip and he tugs your hair as a consequence, one he understands both punishes and rewards you. your chest presses against his leg, hands pawing at him to assuage the damage.

“that’s not how we start and you know it. kiss it better,” he purposely lowers his tone at the end there to display how he’s not mad, simply instructing you on how to fix your mistake. he wants this as badly as you do, but if he bypasses the regular rules, then you’ll never learn. it pays to be stern.

matt sighs as you kiss the underside of his cock and work your way up, sticky peck after sticky peck on the head of him. he may not be able to see it, but he knows you’re licking your lips clean between every one due to how the spit slicks him up further. for that, he says nothing. you deserve some kind of treat for being so interlocked with the taste and feel of him. he has the same nerve when it’s his head between your thighs. no one can stop him from indulging.

“there we go. quick study, hm?” he smiles feeling you nod into the palm of his hand. such a sweetheart.

“okay, you can use your tongue now. i know you get off on licking me, but let’s keep it slow—yeah, fuck, just like that…”

he grunts as you begin to lap along his length. you adjust your head in his hand for every lick, managing a better angle to get at a particular spot that drives him insane. his breathing becomes more shallow as you continue, hips pushing forward, seeking that heat you register well. a groan tumbles from his mouth as you apply heavier licks with the flat of your tongue, dragging them out, velvet he can no longer avoid, no longer wants to avoid.

“open. open up for me. need to put those lips to better use,” he husks.

the strangled sound that comes from his lips is something he barely recognizes, but he doesn’t fucking care. inches slide into your warm mouth, his hand curls into a fist as he wills himself from thrusting straight away, and his knees buckle slightly from the feeling alone. he’ll never tire of this, of how good you feel, of how perfect you are for him. his mind erases coherent thought before he’s able to talk more filth to you. but it’ll soon come once he gains the ability back because he swears he can feel your lips curving into a triumphant grin as they wrap around his girth.

[l4long-winded]

l4l presents... kinktober day nineteen

today's act: phone sex, starring matt murdock

admonitions: fem!reader, dirty talk, mutual masturbation.

word count: 719

“and how would i touch you, sweetheart?” matt’s voice caresses the shell of your ear, nestles pleasantly in its drum, tickles it almost as if he were here now, breathing the ragged words against your neck along with attentive stamps of affection from his lips. you can practically hear the smug smile adorning his mouth, how it stretches out with the way he enunciates each syllable.

“mind walking me through? make sure you’re doing it right?”

he thinks he’s so sly. thinks he’s fucking casanova with the way he speaks to you, like you’d fall over by tripping over your own legs like a baby deer at his command. and fuck, does his confidence have your pussy drooling with arousal, all over your prodding fingers, feigned innocence sparking an eye roll and a hip roll against your hand. he’s actually that smooth. you hate it sometimes.

“unnff, okay,” you reply tremulously, gulping heavily, ignoring the pleased hum vibrating in your ear.

“i’m using two fingers. running them up and down myself.”

“getting them wet? rubbing your clit with what’s leaking out that pretty cunt?”

you moan, nodding your head, feeling stupid since you’re on the phone, and he wouldn’t be able to see it anyhow in person. that’s exactly what you’re doing. slathering arousal from the source onto your aching pearl, massaging the slickness onto yourself like matt would. softly. gently. slight pressure that has you mewling much like you’re doing now into the receiver.

“yeah… that.”

you notice the grunt that comes through the line. exertion you’re well aware he’s putting on himself since he’s the one who called you and started this up. something something about can you touch yourself for me and damn it, i fucking miss you as you heard a familiar clink you associate with his belt.

“slide them—fuck—slide ‘em in for me, baby.”

it’s instant. that’s how fast you tuck your fingers inside of yourself from matt’s direction. he earns himself a lecherous noise, relishes in how you don’t care about how loud it is, and he bucks hard into his hand from the lack of delay. he doesn’t have to be there in the room with you to understand how you’re fucking yourself with your fingers, pretending those slim digits were his thicker ones crooking at far away spots inside of you. you can’t reach those on your lonesome. much like his rough hand is nothing in comparison to your soft, smaller one on him. pumping him with zeal. asking him if he feels good.

“feels so good, matty,” you whine, as if answering his thoughts.

“need you,” he gasps. “fucking need you. wanna suck on your fingers, baby.”

it’s not fucking fair. he thought this would provide him some relief, aid in the unfortunate circumstance of being away from you, but he envies your hand. he envies not being able to lick your slit. he envies your neighbors, because they’re right there, blissfully unaware how you’re touching yourself to the sound of his voice while you envision him hovering above you. he doesn’t want to fuck his fist to completion, he wants to fuck you, pump you full of him, and pray in the morning once he gains clarity that he didn’t knock you up stuck in the storm of pleasure your tempting body gave him over and over and over again, thank god for plan b at the store with you tucked at his side, “guiding” him through the aisles.

“i’d let you. shove them in your mouth while i ride you.”

matt moans louder, angles his hips, tightens his grip, tries desperately to replicate the sensation of your fluttering walls around him, but he can’t. he settles for jerking himself faster, listening to those moans you’re relentlessly chirping, becoming sloppier as he finds what he needs.

“with me, shit, cum with me,” he commands through gritted teeth, pleased by how you repeat his name, how your voice curves. he recognizes the signs of your orgasm by sound alone, not holding back any longer as hot seed spills down his fist and part of his abdomen.

for a long moment, he just breathes heavily and listens to your panting. but your next sentence has him chuckling, heat in his face and chest, outstretching his sticky fingers.

“call tomorrow?”

“... call tomorrow.”