Haiii!! I’m so so in love with your Matt Murdock fics, they’re all so yummy
I was wondering if you could do a part 2 to your confession fic from kinktober? I need to know what Matt does with the panties.. or do Matt and reader listen to each other through the walls? Do they ever go further than mutual masturbation? Feel free to write whatever you’re inspired by, I just need more Priest!Matt lol
okay so this came to me in a vision (a slutty daydream) and it isn't particularly what you asked for but it's what i'm giving you so just hear me out
I also felt like being a tease (😛) so this is just enough to get your imagination goin, but think of it as a choose your own adventure and you get to decide how it ends and pls feel free to tell me where your mind goes
warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
sin.
“This is so wrong.”
“You're the Catholic, not me.”
Matt let out a breathy laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement.
“You don't have to be Catholic to know dry humping a priest in a church is wrong.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Matt gripped your hips even tighter, a low growl sounding in his throat as he leaned in to nip at yours.
“Don't you fucking dare.”
You’d just been stopping by to say hello. You knew Matt was at the church, he’d told you he went on Saturday afternoons to practice his sermons, and you were already out running errands. You were just going to stop by and say hi, maybe see if he was free for lunch. That was all.
But then you’d walked in, and you’d seen him in the outfit, which he hadn’t been wearing the last time you’d been here, and any trace of innocence in your intentions was incinerated with holy fire. Thankfully, there was an office in the back that granted you privacy. Although deep down, you know it wouldn’t have mattered. You would’ve straddled him right there in the front pew in front of God and whoever else wanted to bear witness.
Matt had gone to remove the clerical collar with the intent to unbutton his shirt to get more comfortable, but you’d smacked his hand away, demanded he leave it on, and he’d grinned wickedly, slipping a sinful comment into your ear about this newly discovered kink. He was more than happy to oblige.
Dipping your head back, your eyes fluttered shut as Matt left desperate warm and wet open mouthed kisses along the column of your neck, dragging his teeth over your pulse point.
“Swearing is a sin, Father.”
Matt pushed your skirt further up your waist, spreading your thighs even more. He gave your ass a firm smack, tearing a surprised whimper from you, and then he wrapped his arm tighter around your waist to pull you even closer on his lap. Your panties were drenched, and thank God his pants were black, because the crotch was soaked from how you were grinding your soaked pussy on his hard cock that was straining against the zipper.
His other hand slipped into your hair, grabbing a fistful of it as he leaned in to press his forehead against yours, panting against your mouth. His lips spread into a devilish grin.
Could I request Matt Murdock x wife!reader, just something with them, they have a toddler aged child (named after Matt’s dad). Maybe hurt/comfort. Thank you
wordcount: 1383
warnings: assault, bit of blood, daredevil is daredevilin', hospital
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“C’mon buddy, let’s get home.” You felt bad, almost dragging Jack home from urgent care. He’d been steadily getting more and more sick, so you’d decided to take him tonight. One hand gripped his little hand and the other scrunched the brown bag with his prescription inside. You’d made him some soup earlier, and wanted nothing more than to give him a bath and put him to bed, and then fall into your husband’s arms to sleep.
“Care to help me out, Miss?” You hear a voice call out, presumably to you, but you keep on walking. You could hear the man grumble and the jingle of the coins in the can quieten, but you thought nothing of it as you slightly quickened your pace, deciding your best bet would be to pick Jack up as he was struggling to keep up with you.
“Mommy?” He whined, presumably upset with the pace you were keeping, bouncing him up and down on your hip with the speed.
“I know honey, but we gotta make it home. Don’t you wanna surprise Daddy before he gets home?” He nods enthusiastically, hiding his face in your neck.
“Mommy, that man is catching up with us.” Jack says, his dad having taught him about being vigilant of his surroundings.
“Yeah, bug?” You say, trying your best not to sound nervous, trying to dig into your pockets to find your phone and dial Matt.
You never made the call.
The man had grabbed you by the waist, practically throwing you into the alley next to you. Jack had landed safely, but you landed on your back. Sitting uo, vision blurry, you reach a hand to the back of your head where it had made contact with the ground, warm blood seeping onto your fingers. Your phone had skidded away from you, the cracked screen tauntingly displaying your husband’s picture and phone number.
“What’s in the bag?” He asks, gesturing a knife wildly to the prescription bag on the floor.
“Sir, please-” You try to reason with him.
“I asked you a question!”
“It’s flu medication! Flu medication for my son, please there’s nothing of worth in there.” He dumps out the bag on the ground, a bottle of medication rattling on impact. He picks it up and checks the label, and he must have realized that it was no worth to him as he threw it on the ground. You gesture to Jack, and he makes a mad dash to position himself behind you.
“You’ve gotta have somethin’ of worth on you, lady.” He turns the knife towards you, but before he can make impact, a sickening crunch of bones interrupts him, landing him against the ground in a rough fashion.
“Leave them be.” A voice rang out, one that sent chills down your spin as well as a feeling of warmth and comfort. The man foolishly takes a swing at Matt, and his actions are met with yet another hard impact.
You pull Jack into your lap, covering his eyes and ears so he doesn’t have to witness his father’s other personality. Matt pulls the other man up by the collar of his shirt, pushing him up against the bricks and throwing his fist, not stopping until you mutter his name under your breath.
“Get lost,” he says, “I don’t even want to find you messing with anyone else.” The man nods, sprinting away with gashes across his face to escape Matt.
“Daddy!” Jack runs over to Matt as he kneels down, burying his head in Matt’s shoulder.
“Hi buddy.” His voice is still hoarse from the grunting and the adrenaline running through his veins.
“Can you grab your medicine and Mommy’s bag while I check on her?” Jack nods and Matt plants a kiss on his head before getting up to check on you.
“Where’s the blood coming from?” He asks, voice softening with use.
“My head, back of my head.” He takes his glove off, gingerly weaving his fingers through your strands of hair, stopping when he feels the warmth of blood and your quiet whimper.
“You’ll have to go to the hospital for this,” he says, “they have to make sure it isn’t a concussion.”
“Can you come with?” You ask.
“Course I can. I just gotta run home to change. Is it alright if I drop you off there?” You nod. He stands, reaching his hands out to take yours and help you stand. He turns to Jack.
“Can you hand Mommy her purse?” He nods, your purse almost dragging on the floor because of how small your son is.
“Matty, what-”
“Don’t worry your head about that. I’ll drop you off, take him home, and then change and meet you at the hospital.” He presses a kiss to your lips, and then leans down to carry Jack on his back.
“Are you holding on tight?” He asks, and Jack hums his agreement.
“I can walk on my own,” you say, Matt immediately taking a defensive stance, “I can make it, it’s only a few blocks.”
“Sweetheart-”
“I can make it. Keep Jack safe and make sure he takes his meds, I’ll see you when you put on appropriate clothes.” He shakes his head.
“Fine, but I’m following you all the way.”
“Okay.”
He’d called Claire while following you, asking her to take care of you. She agreed, and was there to bring you in from the door. Your cracked phone buzzed a few minutes later, a message appearing from Matt saying he and Jack had made it home.
“Is it throbbing?” Claire asks.
“Starting to.”
“Hm, that’s the adrenaline wearing off.” She separates your hair, cleaning off the sticky blood with alcohol wipes to make sure the bleeding has stopped. She does her assessment, diagnosing you with a concussion, and keeps you there for monitoring.
“Matt’s here,” she says after about twenty minutes, “he brought the kid.” Sure enough, you hear the stomping of little shoes running down the hallway towards your room, little four-year-old sneezing and sniffling Jack pushing himself up onto your bed.
“Mommy!” He shouts, nuzzling up to you. You laugh, watching him burrow his way into your blankets. Claire pats Matt on the shoulder, and he turns his attention towards you once she steps out.
“Hey,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “how are you feeling?”
“Head’s throbbing, but I’ve got Doctor Jack,” you tickle his sides and he giggles, “to take care of me.” Matt smiles down at the two of you, reaching up to remove his glasses.
“I was telling Daddy, he went ‘boom!’ and ‘pow!’ and he scared that man off, Mommy! Did you see? Daddy looked so cool!” Jack excitedly babbles.
“I did see, bug, but you gotta keep that a secret, okay?” You say.
“Daredevil is my favorite superhero.” He says, and Matt grins widely.
“Okay, buddy. Let’s get on this couch and let Mommy get some sleep, okay?” He nods, reaching his arms up towards Matt, who takes him and lays him on top of his chest.
“Goodnight, Mommy. Goodnight, Daddy.” He says, voice still nasally but sounding just a bit brighter.
“Goodnight, Jack, we love you.” You say, turning over and letting sleep take you.
Matt stays awake, the background noise of the hospital too loud to rest. Jack is mouth breathing on his chest, and he can’t get mad at the kid either, he’s getting over a nasty flu, and the patient in the room next door has a wheezing issue. His head aches.
“Matt?” He hears your voice call out.
“What is it? Are you in pain?” He whispers back.
“No, but I can hear you thinking.”
“It’s just loud,” he sighs, “struggling to rest.” He hears you sit up, rummaging around somewhere.
“What are you doing?” He asks.
“Here, catch.” You toss him a small container.
“What’s this?”
“Earplugs. Just enough to block out most of the sound, but not enough to block out what’s near you.”
“You didn’t have to.” He says, slipping them in. Sure enough he can still hear your’s and Jack’s heart beats, but not the wheezing next door anymore, or the beeping a few floors away.
Hey can I make a Matt Murdock request. It's Matt and reader's wedding day, and Matt remembers how you met in st. Agnes , the little adventures you had and how sister Maggie caught you trying to sneak out which sometimes worked out
I want to apologize for taking so long to write this! I'm so sorry. I just spent the past four hours pouring my whole soul into this because this request was just so beautiful... Like seriously, I have tears in my eyes. I listened to a lot of love songs while writing this, and I hope I could match up with your expectations. Thank you for your request and enjoy! <3
You Are The Best Thing That's Ever Been Mine | Matt Murdock x Reader
Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader
Summary: On the day of your wedding, Matt thinks back to your time together at the orphanage.
The church bells play an all too familiar tune. It echoes off the high walls that are adorned with colorful paintings and stone sculptures that are as old as time. Clinton Church stands taller than he is, but he doesn’t feel suffocated by it, not today.
Matt Murdock grew up on religion and has lived by his faith in God ever since. He fell into several dark holes over time, but he crawled out of them and he picked himself up again. He played this tiring game for a while. He never felt like he truly belonged anywhere. He was lost. And then you stepped back into his life.
After his father died and he was taken in by St. Agnes orphanage in Hell’s Kitchen, Matt had more than just his grief to deal with. The accident that blinded him a year prior turned his life upside down and no one knew.
His father knew he was blind, of course, but no one knew about how he could suddenly smell or hear much better than before, and that it was worse than the usual enhancement of one’s senses after becoming blind. His senses became heightened to the point he could pick up everything around him with his ears, nose, and hands alone.
He thought about giving up many times. This new side of him confused him and it made him bitter, and then his father died and the only person he could trust was gone, too.
He felt so alone. He had nightmares, he was traumatized and the children at the orphanage didn’t like him much, either. He was a broken boy, and he had no one to turn to but the sisters taking care of him. But after a while, even that support stopped when more children arrived, and he chose to fight this battle on his own. He didn’t want to bother anyone. He was lonely, but he accepted that he just wasn’t that important and that sometimes, life goes a certain way.
Matt told himself God blinded him for a reason. He tried to find a purpose in his heightened senses and whatever else came with the accident and his father’s wrongful death, but with each passing day in this small bedroom with the church bells ringing in the background, causing his head to spin with their audacity, he lost more and more of the hope he swore himself he would keep. He wasn’t just alone, he adopted this feeling of loneliness and ran with it, turning more and more into an outsider. But he also had nothing to show for himself as the other kids did. He was blind, he was different, and that was never appreciated.
One day though, after spending most of his time hiding away in a corner, listening to the people around him and judging them in his own way, a set of small footsteps approached where he was sitting in the garden behind the orphanage.
He remembers the way your dress brushed against your polyester tights, a sound he found annoying and painful at first, but he quickly got used to it. He remembers how you walked up to him with determined steps after Sister Maggie dropped you off for you to explore. He remembers your little sigh when you realized how far away he was from the other kids, but you didn’t turn around and leave when you noticed his black-rimmed glasses or the cane next to him.
You stopped in front of him, and Matt did not once forget the sound of your voice when you first spoke to him, “Is this seat taken?” he remembers you asking, and you sounded a lot nicer than the other children.
He frowned, at first, because he wasn’t used to being talked to. He figured you must be playing with him. But you didn’t stop there.
You chose to sit down next to him, and you smiled when you said, “I like your glasses, by the way.”
He remembers turning his head in your direction, signaling he was listening. You took that as an invitation to introduce yourself. Your name rolled beautifully off your tongue, and he stored it away instantly, along with the sound of your voice.
“I’m Matt,” he chose to tell you.
You smiled even brighter and took his hand, shaking it. “Nice to meet you, Matt,” you said.
Eight years, that’s how long you stayed. And during those eight years, you became inseparable. He confided in you about his heightened senses, and when Stick came around and left as fast as he had appeared, you were the one who picked up his broken pieces.
The first field trip you took together was to Central Park. The sun was shining brightly that day. Sister Maggie and some of the other nuns accompanied your group, and you quickly found your spot next to Matt. It was the first time he wasn't stuck with an adult during a day out, and he was so flustered, he remembers forgetting his words when your cheery nature found a place next to him.
Your heart has always been a steady sound in his ear, and back then, it grounded him whenever he had to face situations that made him uneasy. Field trips held so many different sensations that overwhelmed him, and he often felt as if he wasn't taken very seriously, but with you by his side, he could actually feel the sun on his skin rather than the heavy lump in his throat. He didn't want to cry on the way there; he listened to the beautiful sound of your voice, your laughter, and your excitement both infectious enough to make him smile, and it's something he swore he would always cherish. You had a talent, and he was the only one you used it on.
“Hey,” he remembers you saying when he was hiding away at the back of the group once again. You reached out to gently take his hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll guide you today,” you said.
It wasn't pity, you actually enjoyed doing this for him. Even though it was hot outside, he ignored the sweat simply to hold your hand.
“What if I get lost?” he remembers asking you, and you laughed at that.
You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I’ve got you. Promise. Just trust me, okay?”
As you strolled through the park, you described everything you saw. You walked him through it the way you saw it, and he imagined how the world looked like through your eyes.
“The sky is so blue, Matt,” you said, pointing upward. “It stretches out like an endless canvas. And the clouds are little white specks of color that take different shapes wherever you look.”
Matt tilted his head, a small smile gracing his lips. “I wish I could see it.” It was the first time he actively admitted it to you, and your heart broke a little.
“But you can feel it, can’t you?” You instantly tried to make him feel better. “The warmth of the sun on your skin, the gentle breeze ruffling your hair. You can smell the flowers. It’s all there. Sight is so overrated, anyway.”
He stored your advice for another day, knowing that you weren't wrong. Next, you stopped near a bed of colorful flowers. You crouched down and reached out, picking one. The scent seemed familiar.
“Close your eyes and breathe in,” you instructed, holding the flower near his nose.
Matt followed your guidance, inhaling the sweet scent. “It’s… it's beautiful,” he said.
“You see,” you said, “beauty isn’t just in what we see. It's in the little things we discover along the way.”
For someone who lost so much, you were a true optimist. You breathed fresh air into his life.
With each step, you continued to describe the vibrant colors, the rustling leaves, and the laughter of children in the distance. Matt's trust in you grew, and he found solace in the world you painted for him.
Of course, he could hear, smell and feel everything down to the smallest detail, but the way you described it was so different from the picture he had painted before, and he let you change his perspective. Your view of the world was much more beautiful than his, and he rather lived in a fairytale than take everything too seriously. With you, he could be himself. That was the first day he came to that realization, and his loneliness slowly started to die out.
That day, as you explored the park hand in hand, Matt realized that his blindness didn't define him. With you by his side, he discovered a newfound appreciation for the world and the beauty that could be found in even the smallest details.
The months passed by and turned into years, and you grew closer as friends. During the times you were allowed to play together, you never left each other’s sides, much to some of the nuns’ dismay, but Sister Maggie was the one who encouraged Matt to tie himself to you so he wouldn’t be as alone, and he gladly did it every time.
She saw something in you that he could feel with every one of your fleeting touches and the sound of your voice, and your friendship became a lifeline he kept holding onto. But he was yours, too, which you told him many times before, and he told you he would be more than happy to show you the world through his senses. He made you feel seen and appreciated in a way no one has before, a job he took seriously enough to somehow take permanent residency in your life—but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
The summer sun beat down on the small group of children from the orphanage as you made your way to a nearby lake. Sister Maggie never struggled to control the group, and she was one of those sisters who allowed you to do silly things others didn’t, so you often used that to your advantage.
Being friends with Matt for three years, you gradually figured out who he is, and in return, you revealed parts of yourself. You were the duo most kids feared, which was one of the reasons why the boys stopped picking on him, and the girls had never even dared to say a bad thing about you. Still, you were the weird outcasts who always hung out together; you both prided yourself on that title and often made fun of it.
Laughter filled the air as you rambled about the day’s adventure. Matt walked beside you, his cane tapping gently on the ground. His other hand rested on your arm. He didn't need it, he once admitted to you, but he still felt safer and more grounded, knowing he could hold onto someone in case something happened.
As you approached the shimmering lake, you couldn't help but notice Matt's hesitance. You turned to him with a mischievous grin.
“Hey, Matt,” you said, nudging his arm playfully. “Remember the promise we made when we were little? That we’d jump into a lake together someday?” Because you weren’t allowed to go swimming without supervision, and it had always seemed like a silly rule to break.
Matt’s lips curled into a smile. “Yeah, I remember. But I– I can't swim,” he said. “What if something happens?”
You patted his back reassuringly. “You’re not alone, are you?”
With newfound determination, Matt nodded, placing his trust in you once again. The cool breeze kissed your cheeks as you waded into the lake, the water lapping at your feet.
You turned to Matt, splashing the water toward him playfully. “Come on, Matty! The water feels amazing. You gotta get in!”
He remembers the goosebumps on his skin, the eagerness in your voice. His uncertainty melted away when you reached out to help him inside somewhere he could stand, and he felt a little less scared about his ability to control the setting. With hesitant steps, he followed you, the soft sand beneath his feet giving way to gentle ripples in the water.
As you both ventured deeper, you guided Matt's hand to your shoulder, urging him to relax and float. “Just trust me,” you said.
Little did you know that he trusted you with his life already.
He took a deep breath, his body relaxing as he felt the water supporting him. A surge of joy filled your heart as you watched his confidence grow. You took his other hand, and soon enough, you were spinning in the water together. He might have been standing on the sandy ground of the lake, but it still reminded him of the times his father took him to the pool. Sharing this moment with you felt… different, but in a good way, and he slowly started to warm up to the idea of enjoying a day in the water. You were always careful with him, and he knew you would never let him drown.
Time seemed to stand still. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you and the tranquility of the lake. The other children moved into the background, and Sister Maggie's pleas for you to be careful or even better, get out, met deaf ears as you got lost in each other's eyes. You were only twelve then, but it was like that day changed a lot in the way he felt about you, which is why he remembers that day vividly, still. You made him feel so alive that day, and it's a feeling he still gets whenever he looks into your beautiful eyes.
Matt’s voice broke the peaceful silence, barely above a whisper. He said your name softly, something that always managed to make you smile. “This feels… it feels like a dream,” he said.
The warmth of the sun on your face mirrored the warmth in your heart. “No, Matt, this is real,” you told him. “This is our moment. And it's ours to keep.”
As you floated side by side, surrounded by the serenity of the lake, you both realized that this connection, this friendship, was something precious and unbreakable. Life without you seemed like an impossibility to him.
One month turned into twenty-four. You were teenagers, he remembers when your mischief took on a new size. You would appear in front of his door at random hours of the night, tapping on his door three times, before leaning against the wall. He would put on his shoes and grab his cane before making his way outside.
The first time it happened, he hissed at you, “Are you insane?! What if we get caught? Sister Maggie would ground us for the rest of our lives! Oh God–”
You cut him off with a giggle and told him, “We only live once, Matthew, and I am tired of spending every last minute of my life in this place. I wanna live! Please, just trust me. I have a plan.”
And from there on, you would sneak out any other night. You always found spots in nature for you to sit down and talk without people around. You shared stories, laughed, and cried together, and it worked as glue. You became even more inseparable.
Sometimes, you would take him to the lake, sit down with him and describe the night sky to him. You would point out constellations, tell him the meaning behind them and fantasize about life beyond what you could see. He was quick to dispute it because there could only be one God, so there couldn’t be any other universes out there, and once again you only laughed.
You both had a different take on religion; he’s always considered you a dreamer, and you never changed, which he found endearing because you believed in what you wanted to believe in, always. And you made sure you always got what you wanted.
You always snuck past Sister Maggie’s room and made it back in time. It worked almost always, except for the days when someone else was in charge of supervising you, and then you would have to wait until everyone was asleep to tap a steady rhythm against the thin wall of your dormitory.
The sole reason you learned Morse code was to communicate with Matt, knowing he could hear you wherever. In a time before everyone had a cell phone, it was your way of staying in contact.
A few more years passed. You both started maturing, growing up, and going through changes. Life became harder, but you stayed together. Your friendship blossomed, you continued to sneak out, and the one-time Sister Maggie caught you, she simply rolled her eyes and sent you back to your rooms.
That one pivotal night though when you were both sixteen and carefree, the night shimmered with an air of excitement as you sat by the peaceful lake by the orphanage, engrossed in Matt's animated storytelling. His voice had dropped sometime over the past year and it was a sound that would always send shivers down your spine.
He was full of enthusiasm as he shared the details of his latest discovery while he was doing research for a school presentation. You found yourself focused on his hands and his lips rather than the story, and the sound of his voice sent shivers down your spine. When you looked into his eyes, his glasses long discarded, you seemed to realize something, and the silence from your end alarmed your friend.
Amidst the excitement in his voice, a new realization took hold. Matt was more than just your best friend. So much more.
You found yourself lost in the features of his face, your mind spinning. Matt's voice trailed off, and he noticed your gaze fixed on him, a puzzled expression crossing his face.
“What's wrong?” he asked. “Is there something on my face?”
Your mind raced to catch up with your feelings. Without uttering a word, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you, and pressed your lips against his. It was a spontaneous and slightly awkward first kiss, but Matt remembers every last second of it.
For a moment, the world paused, and you both froze, the realization of what had just happened sinking in. Uncertainty hung in the air, but then Matt's hand gently cupped your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. He traced your features, and they were so vulnerable and delicate that night.
He remembers swallowing, the panic that sent the blood rushing to his cheeks, and the strange change in the rhythm of your beating heart. “I, uh…” Matt tried to find the right words, but his mind was blank. Your lips left a tingling sensation on his own, and he somehow couldn't comprehend what was happening to his body. It was confusing. “That was… unexpected,” he said.
You felt mixed emotions swirling within you, but the desire to explore this newfound connection outweighed any awkwardness. Without hesitation, you leaned back in and kissed him again, this time more confidently, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment.
The awkwardness quickly melted away when Matt finally realized what he wanted, too. Your lips moved in harmony, exploring this new territory you found yourselves on, together. It was new, but it was so exciting.
The touch of Matt’s lips against yours sent electric currents through your veins, and the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you.
Eventually, you pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed.
“I… I don't know what to say,” he confessed.
You smiled at him. “Do we need to say anything?”
Matt remembers the exact moment he realized that he’d fallen fast and hard for you; it wasn't the kiss that proved his feelings for you, it was what happened after. You looked at him, brushed a strand of hair out of his face, and told him, “You're beautiful, Matthew. Inside and out.”
And that was the moment he first knew he loved you more than just a best friend. He would have walked through fire for you, and it was never a doubt in his mind. The realization hit him hard, but he somehow never questioned it. He realized he loved you, and from that moment on, he rolled with it.
Matt remembers that he only acted after hearing you say those words. He told you, “Says the most beautiful girl in this place.”
He gently pulled you back into his embrace, his lips finding yours once more. You couldn't even berate him for the blasphemy because he was right, and you smiled against his lips; this was the day you both finally found a home.
A few years had passed since that fateful night by the lake, and your bond with Matt grew stronger.
On this particular night, you found yourselves drawn to the library. The quiet stillness of the space provided a temporary escape.
As you settled into a hidden corner, the soft glow of the moon filtered through the window. You found solace in each other's arms, curled into a corner on the window sill. Matt's arms were wrapped around you and he held you as tightly as he could.
His lips ghosted over yours and you kissed back. He sighed into your mouth, his large hand on your cheek holding you right there. “I wish I could stay with you,” you murmured.
He nuzzled his nose against yours. “You know that’s not a good idea,” he said.
“Why though?”
“For one, we’d get caught and two,” his hand stopped at your neck, feeling your pulse jump and he sighed, “I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you.”
Your cheeks flushed a bright red, and just as you were about to kiss him again (damn his silver tongue), he stopped you with the same hand that was on your throat. “Sister Maggie,” he said.
Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see Sister Maggie standing at the entrance of the library, her expression a mix of surprise, disappointment, and utter disapproval. The weight of all the rules you were breaking crashed into you.
You shot up into a sitting position and Matt followed suit. You had never been so ashamed in your entire life.
Sister Maggie's eyes flitted between you and Matt. The disapproving silence hung heavy in the air before she finally spoke.
“You two,” she said. “What on earth are you doing?”
“We, um…” You bit your lip. “We weren't doing anything, I swear!”
Matt quickly adjusted his shirt and agreed, “We are so sorry, sister.”
He remembers faintly how she lifted her finger. “I expected better from the two of you,” she said. “You’re not little children anymore. You should understand the importance of following the rules and maintaining appropriate behavior within these walls. And in front of God? I taught you better than that! Up, both of you!”
Neither of you hesitated to get off the window sill. She approached you both. “Now, I suggest you both leave this library immediately and return to your rooms. We will never talk of this again.”
Her words cut deep, but you tended to forget where you were living sometimes. You exchanged a glance.
“You’re lucky it was me who found you,” she said. “Now go! I don't want to see either of you wandering these walls at night ever again, are we clear?”
You nodded wildly. While you said, “Yes, Sister Maggie,” Matt found himself at a loss for words.
Without uttering another word, you followed Sister Maggie's order, slowly making your way out of the library. Each step felt like a punishment, he remembers.
Her actions had made it clear that the boundaries between friendship and romance were not to be crossed within the confines of the orphanage. You had to live with that.
Though once you were out of her earshot, your giggles filled the hallway, and Matt pinched your arm. “It’s not funny,” he whispered.
You couldn't help but giggle again. He's always loved how you could laugh about everything. “I know, I know,” you said to him, trying to stifle your laughter. “But the look on Sister Maggie's face… I can't help it.”
Matt shook his head. “You're going to get us into even more trouble if you don't stop.”
You sobered up, realizing the truth in his words, and you both fell into a comfortable silence as you walked back to your rooms. The echoes of Sister Maggie's disapproval still lingered, a reminder of the boundaries that kept you caged.
As you reached the hallway that led to your respective rooms, you paused, facing each other. The dim light from the hallway cast soft shadows on your faces. You longed for him. Just one night with him would have fixed both of your sleep habits and it would have done you good, but you knew you had to part ways. It hurt, but it was a reality you came to live with.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered again. “I didn't mean to get us into trouble.”
Matt’s expression softened as he reached out to gently touch your cheek. He made sure no one was around so he could touch you one last time, at least. “It's not entirely your fault,” he said. “We both got carried away.”
You nodded. “We should be more careful. We don't want to risk getting separated, do we?”
Never, he remembers thinking. Getting separated had sounded like torture then. “You’re right,” he agreed. “We’ll have to be more careful from now on. It’s not worth putting us at risk.”
A mixture of disappointment and longing settled in your heart as you prepared to part ways for the night.
You just hoped and prayed that your relationship could survive this.
With a lingering touch, you both turned and retreated to your respective rooms, the weight of the night's events etching themselves into your memories.
You both knew the boundaries were in place for a reason and though it pained you, you were willing to respect them. You had to. You grew up there. The stolen moments and the unspoken promises would have to find solace in the hidden corners of your hearts until the time was right to let them flourish fully. At least that was what you told yourselves for the following 365 days.
When you turned eighteen and finished school, everything changed. Matt only remembers the pain that followed.
One day, as you returned from school, Sister Margaret approached you with a warm smile, handing you an envelope.
“Congratulations, dear,” she said. “A letter from Stanford arrived for you today.”
You froze.
Entering your room, you found Matt sitting on your bed, his head turning toward you as you entered. He sensed the strange weight in your hands, the unshed tears in your eyes, and his smile faded. “What do you have there?” he asked.
You took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak. Your heart dropped, he could hear it. And that was when you told him, “It’s a letter… from Stanford.”
Silence hung in the air as Matt absorbed your words. This wasn't what you had planned together, and his world seemed to stop right then and there.
“Why didn't you tell me you applied?” Matt's voice held a touch of hurt.
Your heart sank, knowing that this was a conversation you couldn’t avoid. “I didn't know how to bring it up,” you admitted. “I was scared… scared of what it would mean for us.”
His brows furrowed. “What does it mean for us? Are you planning to leave? We said we’d go to Columbia together, why– is that no longer something you want? Us? You and me, going to college together?”
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you rushed to explain, “It’s not like that! I love you, and I want to be with you. But Stanford… it’s an opportunity I’ve always dreamed of. I don't want to live with the regret of not even trying. It's… it's a full-ride scholarship, Matty. It’s not just an acceptance letter, it’s the offer of a lifetime.”
He was happy for you, and in hindsight, he should have reacted differently, but he was so hurt. He looked away, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed. “But what about us?” he asked. “Our future? What about the plans we made?”
Unshed tears glistened in his unfocused eyes, and he could tell it broke you just the same to tell him the truth.
“I don't want to lose you, Matt,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The letter weighed heavy in your hands. “But I also can’t ignore my dreams.”
“I won’t ask you to give up your dreams for me. You know I wouldn't, but I can't help feeling like you’re just going down a path so far from mine, and… it scares the shit out of me.”
The room filled with a heavy silence. The realization that a difficult decision lay ahead threatened to tear at the fabric of your love. You were so young, so naive, but you have always known just exactly what you wanted.
“I don't want to lose you,” you whispered, repeating your previous sentiment. “Maybe… maybe we can make it work, despite the distance.” Your eyes lit up, but the hope felt tainted. “We can try, right? We can promise to support each other, even when we're apart.”
Matt's gaze softened. “I want to believe that,” he said, “but it won’t be easy. You know that. We’ll have to fight the odds. Are we strong enough for that?”
“We’ll never know if we don't try,” you said. “We owe it to each other to give it a chance. ‘Cause I’m not giving up on you.”
He took a deep breath, then opened his arms for you as so often and held you as you cried, not sure if out of sadness or excitement, but that stupid letter to Stanford was bound to change everything.
When you moved away to college, leaving New York and Matt behind, the contact you promised to keep up faded eventually. He got into law school, you made a living for yourself, your calls eventually stopped, no more letters or gifts, and after one particularly rough night of partying, that was it. You ended it.
Eight years washed down the drain because life has funny ways of breaking people apart. At first, Matt was sad, but he learned to move on and eventually became a lawyer, found friends, and moved on the same way you seemed to have done all those years ago.
But there came a time when he least expected it, and you promptly bumped into him in a courthouse in Hell’s Kitchen. Matt recognized you almost instantly from the sound of your voice alone, and even though he grew up and aged like fine wine, you called his name the second you looked into his red glasses.
As you locked eyes, the memories of your past came rushing back for both of you. It was pouring rain outside. Your hair stuck to your face as so did his, but he was still the same Matt from before, only older, and you also hadn't changed much.
“Matt?” you whispered in disbelief.
A flicker of recognition crossed his face, his hand resting on your arm. He called your name and asked, “Is that you?”
A bittersweet smile graced your lips as you nodded. “It’s me,” you replied softly. “I– Jesus, I never thought I’d see you again. How have you been?”
He told you about his practice, he remembers, and you listened closely. You told him you were proud of him and then you told him about med school and how you were a resident now, but a slot opened up in Hell's Kitchen for a fellowship and you chose to move again. It was fate, almost.
His gaze softened as he listened to your breathing, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips, and the feelings he had pushed down for so long resurfaced. “I thought about you often,” he remembers dropping on you the second he caught his breath again
“I’m sorry,” you whispered back to him. “I let life get in the way, and I let go of something so special because I was scared of the effort it took. I will never forgive myself for how we ended. I… we… I cared about you, Matthew. So much. It wasn’t just some stupid childhood fling for me.”
Matt’s hand reached out, his fingers gently brushing against yours. “We both made mistakes. We should have worked harder, it's not– You're not the only one who fucked up, so…”
You licked your lips. “We were too young,” you said.
“Yeah,” he instantly agreed without missing a beat, “We were. And a little dumb, maybe.”
You chuckled, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked into his eyes. “I've missed you,” you confessed. “I’ve missed us.”
“I've missed us, too. But especially you.”
The courthouse buzzed with activity around you, the hustle and bustle of lawyers, judges, and clients filling the air. But at that moment, it felt as if time stood still, and it was just the two of you. It reminded you of your childhood when you would spend time at the water together, whispering hushed promises underneath the night sky.
“Let’s start over,” you suggested. And then you reintroduced yourself, telling him your name with that wonderful smile of yours, and he was enchanted all over again.
A smile tugged at the corners of Matt's lips, too, as he reached out to take your hand. “Matt Murdock,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”
That was the day everything changed. To think that day lies three years in the past now is something he still hasn’t wrapped his mind around, but fate brought you back together, and after months of pining and him hiding who he truly is to no avail, you finally took the first step.
You accepted that he is Daredevil without second-guessing or being mad at him. You walked through hell with him and you came out on the other side stronger than before, and Matt realized soon enough that he could never love someone as much as he loves you.
And on a beautiful Saturday in June, he asked you to marry him at the same lake you used to hide out as kids. You said yes, of course. He feared for a moment you wouldn’t, but you jumped into his arms as soon as he got on his knees, and the deal was sealed.
Matt can’t see, that is no secret. He thought it might ruin your wedding experience, but you reassured him you didn’t care about whether or not his eyes fell out of his head when you would walk down the aisle. He wishes he could see you in your dress, but he has made peace with the fact he couldn’t.
As he’s standing in the small room hidden away in Clinton Church now, nervously fiddling with the flower stuck to his suit jacket, he can’t help but recall all the little moments you shared while you were growing up, and how fate brought you back together when you both needed it the most. You picked each other up, and you saved each other’s lives.
You asked one of your bridesmaids to tell him to wait right there, and he has been standing there, looking out of the window at the small lake in the distance for a while now. He wonders what you’re doing, but Foggy told him to be patient, so he tries to swallow his curiosity and waits some more.
He never thought he would get married, but he remembers thinking one night as a boy that if he ever got married, he would only get married to you.
As the anticipation builds up, Matt's heart races with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He can hear the distant sound of footsteps approaching, followed by your heartbeat. You smell like flowers and vanilla, and the fabric brushing against your legs sounds soft, almost like his silk sheets.
The door to the small room creaks open, finally, and he holds his breath, bracing himself for the sight he would never be able to see. And then, there you are, standing at the doorway. Your dress, carefully chosen and adorned, flows elegantly around you. It's silk with lace adorning the top, but you made sure that it would feel nice to him and look good on you, still.
Matt's senses heighten when you enter, capturing every detail he can possibly perceive. Most of all though, he memorizes your heartbeat once again and takes a good whiff of the beautiful scent you carry with yourself. You are one hundred percent yourself and he has never been more in love.
Today, you don't have to sneak around or hide away, even though it still feels like it, in this room secluded from everyone else, and his heart races faster when he thinks about how full circle this moment feels.
You take a step closer, your footsteps soft against the floor. You're wearing heels, but you seem to walk comfortably in them. Matt's heart skips a beat when he hears your voice. “Matthew,” you breathe. “I'm here.”
With a gentle smile, you extend your hand. Matt reaches out, intertwining your fingers. You close in on him until you're right in front of him, and he blinks as if he can’t believe it. You remove his glasses, tears already forming in his eyes from how many emotions crash into him, but you don’t feel much better. Seeing his brown eyes search yours, you swallow the lump in your throat, and you try not to start sobbing right then and there.
Your pulse jumps under his fingers; he chuckles because it seems ironic that you're more nervous than him, so beautiful and innocent. You’re his everything, his world, the reason he’s still alive, and he can never repay you for all you’ve done for him.
His fingertips graze the delicate fabric of your dress. He traces the intricate patterns, feeling the smoothness and intricacy, the silk and the lace. You guide him a little, building up his confidence. He feels the slit that runs down your leg, the garter belt you're wearing, and he swears he might puke. Your face is next, and with that, he takes his sweet time. You close your eyes and let him explore. He cradles you so delicately, almost as if you're a porcelain doll.
His breath shudders. “Fuck,” he murmurs. The reality of the moment hits him, and the first tear escapes his left eye.
He never thought he would have the opportunity to experience something like this, and now he is experiencing it with you, the love of his life. It feels so surreal, he can't breathe.
His voice quivers as he speaks. “You’re breathtaking,” he says. “I can't even…Jesus, you're amazing.”
You choke up too, your lips curling up into a smile. “Don't make me cry,” you retort. “You’re gonna ruin my makeup, Prince Charming.”
He joins in, his hand remaining on your cheek as he takes in the person that you are through his other senses. You feel so much closer like this. You’re his and he is yours, forever.
You step closer. Matt’s arms envelop you in a warm embrace, holding you tightly against his chest. He always knows what you want, what you need, and he is more than willing to give it to you unconditionally.
“I love you,” Matt whispers into your ear. “I’ve loved you since we were kids, and I’ll love you until the end of time. I swear.”
You swallow the tears that threaten to fall. “I love you too. With every beat of my heart. I fell in love with you the second I saw you, and I didn’t even know what love was,” you say. “You’re never getting rid of me.”
He chuckles. “Oh, sweetheart, that's the reason we're here today in the first place. You don't get one without the other.” Matt brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face. “You’re mine and I’m yours. Always and forever. I promise.”
Just as you are starting to get lost in each other's eyes, the door creaks open, and Foggy's voice breaks the moment. “Am I interrupting something here, lovebirds?” he chirps.
You turn to see Foggy standing at the doorway, a playful smirk on his face. Matt releases you from his embrace, and the two of you share a sheepish smile.
“Not at all, Foggy,” you reply, wiping away the remnants of your tears. “We were just having a moment.”
Foggy chuckles. “Well, don’t get too caught up in the moment. Remember, Matt, you can't kiss the bridge until the ceremony. That's what you told me to tell you,” he says. “So, take a step back.”
Matt rolls his eyes but follows his instructions. “Better?”
Foggy shakes his head. “Further.”
“You want me to wait outside? You know this is my bride, right? And I can't even see her.”
You laugh. Turning to your husband-to-be, you gently tug at his arm. “Guess you'll have to behave ourselves until then,” you say.
“How will I ever manage that?” Matt retorts. “I only waited over a decade to get you back.” Followed directly by a dramatic sigh.
“Exactly,” you and Foggy say at the same time.
You glance at Matt, a silent understanding passing between you. You faced so much together, hand in hand, and this moment would be no different. You’ve never been big on traditions, anyway.
You turn back to Foggy. "We're ready,” you tell him. “And we've decided to walk down the aisle together.”
Foggy's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but a smile quickly spreads across his face. “Well, I'll be damned!” he quips. “Leave it to you two to make things even more unique. Less work for me, I suppose. Alright, let’s get this show on the road!”
And as you take those first steps together, Matt realizes that you chatting him up all those years ago at St. Agnes was just the beginning of a very long story.
Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal
matt going down on reader for the first time? pls & thank you 🥹💕
he slowly pulls you to the edge of the couch, your ass resting on the edge of the sofa. “are you comfortable?” matt asks, placing your thighs onto his shoulders. you nod your head slightly, but that isn’t enough for him, “i need to hear you say it.” he pushes, giving one of your legs a reassuring squeeze. “yes, matty.” you mumble. “good girl.” his praise makes the tingling sensation grow between your legs, and a small moan passes your lips.
“did you like that, sweet girl? you like when i call you a good girl?” he asks between planting kisses on the inside of your thighs. ”mhmm.” you answered as more of a squeal. his stubble rubbed against the soft skin of your inner thighs, making your entire body flooded with goosebumps. matt took his time, being slow and gentle with you, but the anticipation was killing him. he had been waiting for this moment for months, never wanting to pressure you into starting something you weren’t ready for. but, now you were all his, and not even god could stop him now.
he placed a kiss on the damp fabric of your panties, making your body jerk forward slightly. “so reactive, sweetheart…” his voice creates vibrations against your pussy. “...i love it.” he continued, making a whine pass your lips as the unfamiliar feeling grew inside your stomach. “m-more, please, matty.” you gripped the bunched up fabric of your dress, bucking your hips up slightly. “of course, bunny.” he affirmed, his tongue poking out from between his lips, poking at the fabric, pushing it further against your clit.
finally, using his strong grip, he ripped your panties down your legs, discarding them across the room. the cold air against your soaked cunt made you almost melt, it contrasted against the warmth between your legs. matt spent little to no time returning to his position between your legs. licking a stripe between your folds. your body rocks forward, hands flying to matt’s hair. he took this as a sign to give you even more, “you’re so sweet.” he mumbled against you.
it felt so good, you could feel your eyes brimming with tears. “so-so good.” you murmured,, the tightening feeling in your stomach picking up. and that’s when you felt a new sensation, it was matt’s thumb against your clit, rubbing fast, circular motions into it. using his tongue to explore the rest of your cunt. you were being overstimulated to say the least.
but you could feel yourself clenching around nothing, matt’s name pouring past your lips in a mix of groans and moans. “i-i feel t-tight.” you choked out, confused by the feeling between your legs. “i-in my tummy.” you added, looking down at matt for comfort. “you’re gonna cum, baby.” he explained, a wild smile coming across his face. “matty!” you exclaimed, your orgasm hitting you hard. you had never felt anything like it before, and you weren’t complaining.
staying overnight to get some NASTYYYY headcanons for matt… don’t mind me.. just the usual thirsting over
CONGRATULATIONS ON 6K FOLLOWERS COURT!!! you deserve it like nobody else 🖤
THANK YOU SO MUCH BABY 🖤
this is perfect timing bc it's ovulation week for me and there's nothing I love more than slutting out matthew manwhore murdock
as a reminder, staying overnight means it's spicy! (minors dni)
headcannon below the cut
matt murdock likes it when you beg
we all know this man is a cocky fucker and obviously that extends into the bedroom and you know what I can't even fault him bc that dick is big and he knows your body better than you do
we also know he's a fucking tease so of course he gets off on making you beg
when you're in the booth at the back of josie's, and his hand wanders under your skirt, he just grins when you clamp your thighs around his hand and grip his forearm to try and push him away, your eyes darting over towards the bar where foggy and karen are getting the next round of drinks
"c'mon angel, you know I can be quick. let me play a little."
and once he tugs your panties to the side and starts out rubbing quick circles over your clit, he smirks against your neck, getting you just close enough to the edge before slowing to a torturous pace that has you whimpering and trembling, protesting immediately
"did you change your mind, sweetheart? I thought you were worried about getting caught. you want me to keep going, hm? ask me nicely."
oh and his absolute favorite is when you're mad at him, all worked up from an argument over something that was his fault, bc let's be honest it usually is
and the angrier you are, the more fun the game is for him. the second you see that look in his eyes, and that arrogant smirk starting to stretch across his lips, you know he's riling you up on purpose, and he loves sensing the moment you realize what he's doing
every step you take backwards, he takes a predatory step further, and your immediate "matthew, I swear to god" just makes that devilish grin grow even wider. he doesn't even attempt to act innocent anymore
you both know he's going to wear you down. he knows how to make you melt for him. he can do it with just a few filthy whispered words in his daredevil voice that he knows gets to you every single time
the second he smells that delectable scent of arousal coming from between your thighs, he knows he's won already
"you can pretend to be upset all you want, sweetheart, but I can smell how wet you already are. let me make it up to you."
and he doesn't just tease you a little to get his way, oh no, he makes it a point to drive you absolutely insane, to break you down into a needy mess, bc he loves to hear you beg for him
he'll bind your hands behind your back with his tie and bend you over the dining table, sinking to his knees to eat you out from behind, alternating between suctioning his lips around your clit and languid savoring licks until you're grinding your hips back against his face and whining
"oh, you want more? I thought you were mad at me baby? does this pretty pussy need to cum? beg me for it."
and he likes to pin you down to the bed, your hands held captive above your head, fucking you with slow deep strokes that make your eyes roll back, giving you just enough to drive you crazy but not enough to build up a climax
"what, you need it deeper? say it. tell me you need it deeper. c'mon angel, be a good girl and let me hear it."
it's hard for him to hold back, to not just give in and fuck you senseless like he wants to, but god hearing how desperate you are for him and how much you need him makes his cock twitch inside you
"that's it, keep begging for me, sweetheart. keep telling me how much you need my cock. such a good girl telling me what I wanna hear. good girls get what they want, don't they?"
when you're about to cum is his favorite part, bc he'll hold back until you're an absolute mess, keeping your hands pinned above your head so you can't pull him closer, keeping his hips firmly flushed against yours so you can't fuck yourself on him. he'll pull out all the way until just the tip remains, give you teasing shallow thrusts, avoiding stimulating your clit, grazing his teeth along your pulse point
"louder. louder. c'mon baby, let the whole goddamn building hear you. that's it...god, I love hearing my name from those pretty lips. you need me so bad, don't you? mm, I know you do, angel. I got you."
in conclusion I need a cold shower and a cigarette
i'd love a spicy little stay over at the catacombs of paris with priest!matt and someone new at his church... someone who has become quite the problem with how distracting her presence is to him…
priest matty how i've missed you so, it's gonna hit every single time
as a reminder, staying overnight means it's spicy! (minors dni)
headcannon below the cut
matt murdock is a really good priest
matt always knows whenever there's a new member in the church. they come with a new distinct smell, an unfamiliar heartbeat, and a novel noice confessing sins and requesting prayers
the day you first walk in, matt notices, of course he does. he notices everything. but you leave a lingering impression for an entirely different reason other than novelty
matt has had his fair share of intermittent struggles with his faith, ebbs and flows of devout belief and spirals of questioning, but the day you start coming to his church poses a new conflict
you don't challenge his belief in his faith, you challenge his commitment to it, bc the moment you introduced yourself and he heard "father murdock" slip past your lips, all he's wanted to do is slip his cock past them instead
it's hard to focus on his sermon when he's so hyper aware of you, when your sweet scent stands out above the rest, and lingers for days after. he finds himself seeking out your usual spot in the fourth pew after hours, just to indulge in the phantom of your presence, holding him over like an addict waiting for their next fix while teasingly palming himself through his pants
your melodic voice echoes in his head when he's alone, and he lets his imagination run wild with fantasies, crafting lines he'd beg to hear you deliver in seductive whispers
when you're on your knees in prayer, he wishes it was for him, wishes he could thread his fingers in your hair while you worship him with that perfect mouth and make his eyes roll up to the heavens
he doesn't let his mind dwell on how inappropriate his sinful thoughts are, doesn't indulge in his guilt, bc matt knows these temptations aren't one sided. he can hear the uptick in your heart's rhythm when he says your name in an intentional intimate voice, feel the heat that rises in your cheeks when he flashes you a smile that could be flirty or charming depending on interpretation, the forced casual tone when you accept his offer to stay for coffee and conversation that always drifts from theology to more personal topics
and then there was the day that you came in and matt could smell your pussy on your fingers. the scent of it and the knowledge that you'd touched yourself, last night from what he could tell, the delectable scent still fresh even after your hands being washed with apple scented soap, had driven him feral
he desperately wanted to know what you'd been thinking about while you'd played with yourself, if it was him you thought about while doing it, if his name had fallen from your lips in needy whimpers or breathy moans, if his presence in your fantasy had aided in making you come
it took every ounce of self control not to grab you and drag you into one of the confessionals, or his office in the back, demanding every dirty detail, and he had to stand in front of the podium the entire sermon to hide how hard he was
every time his thoughts drifted to you, his hand wandered down to his cock, almost of its own volition, and as the weeks passed, it got harder and harder to satisfy the ache with fantasies alone
it wouldn't be the first vow to god he'd broken, not nearly the worst either, and the more time he spent around you, the stronger his desire became to break his commitment to abstinence
spreading you open wouldn't affect his ability to spread the word of god, and he could always seek penance later. besides, he'd had a habit of acting first and seeking forgiveness later his whole life, and god was supposed to forgive all sins, so what was the harm in indulging a little?
in conclusion if he was a priest i'd be in the front row every sunday
i have returned yet again to cream about my love for matt and secretary!reader 🧍♀️
but what flavour of them? them not being able to stop fucking flirting with each other at the office when everyone is working together to try and prep for a case? them being "inappropriate" in court? or after everything is said and done, when they are all celebrating at josie's, when they get a little too handsy with their "totally sneaky and not at all obvious and scarring to foggy's poor eyes" touches, before they go on to "celebrate" a little bit too loudly in the bathroom....
you awoke the horny gremlin in me (like it ever goes to sleep) and now all I can think about is matt all amped up from an intense argument in the courtroom and that win making him feel even more riled up to the point that he can't even wait to get to josie's and pulls you into the closest empty space closet instead and now I need to be sedated 🫠
warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
stay quiet.
It's not like this was anything new. An adrenaline fueled Matthew Murdock searching for release within your body was something you were very familiar with, and admittedly sometimes looked forward to. However, you were used to it under different circumstances.
Normally that electrified raw need slipped through your window beneath the pale silver of moonlight, wrapped in midnight shadows as dark as the ones he crept in. That black suit concealed him so well, sometimes you didn't even notice him hiding in the dark corners of your apartment, his steps as silent as a phantom, until a flash of a devilish grin would capture your attention too little too late and you'd find yourself at his mercy in a blink.
But in the daylight, the black suit had been traded in for a navy one, and the devil had been disguised as a godly man, until he'd pulled you into a supply closet with unholy intent.
You weren't sure if he'd had a bad night last night, or if he was just feeling extra passionate today, but Matt had been particularly amped up in the court room earlier, and it had been a struggle to focus on taking notes when you'd been able to feel your panties growing damper by the second.
There was something about watching him dominate the courtroom, demanding the attention of every person in it, the intellect interwoven in his argument, the rise in the volume of his voice that was just a notch below a gavel’s reprimanding. He was a force to be reckoned with, and certainly a sight to behold, and you had been one second of staring away from being caught eye fucking your boss all day.
He didn’t even say a word once the verdict had been announced. He’d gripped your elbow in a way that looked innocent to anyone that was onlooking, but the way he dug his blunt nails into your skin had it prickling with anticipation as he all but dragged you out into the hallway. Foggy and Karen’s echoes of both of your names were drowned out by the click of a lock and the clatter of loose items on a worn shelf.
He didn’t have the patience to undress any further than unzipping his pants, and within seconds of pushing you roughly up against the shelf, your panties were tugged to the side. A breathless laugh escaped your parted lips as you grabbed at his broad shoulders.
“Matty-”
He firmly clamped his hand over your mouth, abruptly silencing any playful protest while he grunted through gritted teeth into your ear.
“Shh. Stay quiet.”
You both knew that was an impossible task. Matt tore symphonies from you that you didn’t even know you could compose. His palm stifled your sighs, his callused skin absorbing the impact of your desperate moans, but the objects on the shelf rattled with every powerful snap of his hips. As your fingers found the soft hair at the nape of his neck, giving it a sharp tug while your nails simultaneously bit into his skin, it tore a delicious groan from Matt that sent vibrations throughout your entire body and tingled in your fingertips.
Matt fucked you hard and fast, since time was not a luxury either of you had right now. His greedy hands left blooms of need on your skin, while his lips and teeth decorated the supple skin of your chest he’d sought out beneath your half unbuttoned blouse.
It was rushed and needy, and he mentally swore he’d make his selfish avidity up to you later, but right now he craved the calm that came from finding release inside of you.
“I could smell how fucking wet you were getting. You know what that does to me, angel. You know better than to tease me at work.”
Matt loosened his grip on your hip to glide his hand closer towards your stomach, yanking your skirt up higher and tugging harder at your panties, a satisfying rip of seams breaking up the cacophony of heavy panting, muffled moans, and rattling shelves. His thumb swiftly found your clit, pressing down firmly on the sensitive bundle of nerves and drawing quick circles that had a shudder rolling through your body like a tidal wave of intense pleasure.
“Now, be a good girl and come on my cock. Show me how bad you want it.”
Matt pressed his face into your kiss bitten neck, groaning when he felt the relief of your warm cunt clenching around him. He hitched your thigh up his hip a bit higher so he could bury himself just a little deeper. The moan that accompanied his climax nearly made you come again. You loved the noises he made, just as much as he loved yours.
He never liked rushing to pull out, always wanted to stay buried in your bliss, but he was quick to slide your panties back into place to catch his release once it started to seep between your thighs. He gripped your chin between his thumb and index finger, leaning in to nip at your bottom lip with a quiet growl.
“Don’t you dare take these off. I want you to feel me every time you move. Understood?”
A sated grin stretched over your mouth as you gripped onto the back of his neck, pulling him closer to brush your lips against his. Using the magic words in your arsenal that had originally made him snap that first late clandestine night a few months back, you let out a soft hum and whispered in a sultry tone.
