appreciation
Written by Liri (buckmeinthebarnes) Characters: Matt Murdock x Reader Words: 2895 Rating: E (explicit smut) Warnings: Thigh riding, slightly dom!Matt, a little slap here, a bit of dirty talk there.
Prompt:There’s nothing like being a good neighbor to make Matt feel very thankful for your aid.
“You stay there," I whisper to Venus. She meowls back at me. "Not a word!" As if bewildered after leaving bed to protect me and being sent away, she turns her cute furry tail on me and goes to our bedroom.
I open my door very slowly to listen to my neighbour. Trying my best, I can’t do much more than hear faint grunts, as if someone had hit their pinky toe on the nightstand. I step out the door as quietly as humanly possible; me and my then-boyfriend’s-college-band-t-shirt down to my knees. The soft grunt that probably came from my front door neighbour ceases.
Matthew Murdock is his name. I know nothing else, except that he’s blind and lives by himself: no pets, no people (except for those two blonde friends of his). Also: he has very nice suits. Maybe he was hurt? I decide to knock quietly, without making much noise. Perhaps he was just dreaming. That would be silly of me… I knock. And wait. No one comes to the door. “Hello? Matthew?”
I wait a bit longer.
And then a little more.
Nothing.
Well… that was a waste of Venus’ time. I turn to move back into bed with my cat when keys rattle in the door. Matthew coughs from behind it and opens up to meet me there. He comes out of his home, leaving the door open. “Good evening,” he says. “Are you ok?”
“Um… Yeah. I should be the one asking, I thought I’d heard some noises. Are you ok?” He smiles just a little. His red-tinted glasses reflecting what little light we had on the hall.
“Yeah. I’m ok. Thanks for asking.” The stubble on his face looks good and I could barely say that about a lot of men. I keep looking at him and can’t stop. A simple, white t-shirt covers his torso and grey sweatpants give him a great I’m sleeping look. “And you are…?” All of a sudden, something runs between my legs and startles me so hard I jump 3 miles up.
“Venus!” She runs straight into his apartment and I go straight after her without thinking of anything but getting the cat. I pick her up as fast as possible when I realize I’ve never been on this side of the door before. “I’m so sorry,” I tell Matt as I leave his place. He looks surprised, and slightly amused, but hasn’t moved a single bit from the hall. I pass by him gripping Venus and notice his head is hurt but don’t say anything. I open my door and throw Venus inside, making sure it’s actually shut behind me this time. “I’m not Venus, I’m (Y/N). And I didn’t mean to go into your place, I’m sorry, that cat is wild.”
“It’s ok,” he smiles, “she must be good company.” Silence ensues and I don’t know how to approach that once I’d seen it, the bleeding gash on his head couldn’t be unseen.
“How did it happen?” I say, quietly as if it was a secret.
“An accident. Chemicals got in my eyes when I was younger.”
“Oh, no I- I didn’t mean- I’m sorry, that’s not-” I take a deep breath to calm down. “I meant your head. How did you hurt your head.”
Matthew seems surprised. His mouth gapes open for a second and he chuckles at the misunderstanding. “I’m sorry. Just a very common question.”
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“You didn’t. I hit my head. Feeling a little sluggish, left the bed, hit the doorway face first. No big deal.” He smiles. I smile. He can’t see me, but I really can’t stop looking at him. Maybe that’s why I don’t feel shame on doing that. My legs are uncovered and shivers go down my spine. I’m not sure what temperature my body is trying to go for. His smile must be the cutest and kindest I’ve ever seen. Only thing is… No door could’ve hit back so hard to split his head open. Not that I’m gonna say anything, I’m not. Leave a man to his own devices. But...
I raise my hand to meet the right side of his face, “May I? Take off your glasses, I mean.” I add, remembering he wouldn’t be able to notice my pointing. He breathes in deep and nods, pursing his lips. I slowly pull off the red spectacles, hang them on my old t-shirt’s neckline and analyze a dark red patch over his cheekbone, the same side where the cut was. Once more, I don’t say a thing, even if my heart is hammering in my chest and Matthew’s breaths make him seem uneasy. A drop of blood slowly trickles down around his eye and trying to clean it would only make a mess so I abstain. My hand touches the soft, hot circle in his cheek. His eye closes up a bit but he doesn’t flinch at it any more than that, even if I’m pretty sure it must hurt.
“You didn’t hit your head.” I make no further comments. I’m not stupid enough to believe him. His body shuffles and stiffens a bit but he doesn’t retreat from my touch. His cheek is flaming and whatever did this was most likely not an inanimate object.
“I might have been slightly inebriated. The door hit back quite hard.” I completely dismiss the new part of this lie cause the injury seems quite recent and he does not smell like the whiskey I’m sure he’d enjoy on a night out playing pool somewhere. He smells like perfect musk and the heat in his body is making it all the more inebriating to me, my skin prickles just thinking about it.
“You’ll need stitches. 3. Maybe 4. Hospital?”
“No.” Matt answers me faster than anything he’s said so far. His lost eyes search my face, dead serious. “No hospital. I’m fine.”
“And I can help.” The drop of blood comes down the side of his face and I swipe it from his jaw. I let my hand off his face, feeling his stubbled cheek scratch my skin. His eyes wander my jawline and I shift the weight in my legs. “Vet school. Not as good as Human Med school but it’ll keep your forehead together.” Matthew’s eyebrows furrow slightly. He steps back and holds the door of his apartment for me. I take a deep breath and enter his home for the second time tonight.
I start noticing a bunch of things I hadn’t realized the first time around. The living room had no TV. The lights were all off. The door to the rooftop was half open, from which a cold breeze came in, and the huge windows on the living room shined with such brightness it took me a second to adapt to the weird, shimmering glitter of electronic ads.
“Make yourself at home,” Matt says. I can’t. I stand still in the living room, taking in how he must live and how much the place speaks about him. The way he smells is everywhere now. Matt smiles slightly but says nothing, turns his back to me, without as much as feeling his way around, and goes in the kitchen. “I’ll pick up the medkit, don’t worry.” I follow him.
“Thanks. Just gonna wash my hands.”
“Oh, of course.” He points to the sink behind him.
He gets the kit, a small rattling bag, in a cabinet and takes it to the living room. I keep my eyes on the way he moves while soaping my hands. Long legs, bare feet, no worries on guiding himself, probably knowing his way by heart amongst his own house. Matthew sits not on the couch, but on one of the two armchairs in the living room as if to not leave me a minute off his sight. That is, if he could see me. His legs are sprawled out, his arms hanging from the chair nonchalantly. He put the bag on the floor beside him, I see, as I dry my hands in a random dishcloth.
“Ok, let’s see what’s inside bag number one.” I put his glasses on the low center table and kneel beside it with the kit. Instead of giving me a medkit with a couple of band-aids and some oxygenated water, like mom’s are used to having, this looks more like what a surgeon might carry around (for emergency surgeries, you know, as one does). “Damn, you’re packed.”
He snickers a little loudly and I blush deeply as I realize. I’m kneeling right beside him, with my face in the same height as... I mean, not that he isn’t, I can tell by the sweatpants, but that isn’t what I meant. My entire face gets hot with embarrassment and he brushes it off. “I learned you can never be too careful with your health,” I mumble whatever I can in agreement.
I pick up a tweezer and needle, attach some thread to it, cut it carefully over the table. Matt says nothing. I get up when I think it’s at least reasonable work with the needle. I’ve done better in the clinic, with lights on, but I can’t be picky. I try leaning or sitting on the side of the chair but that makes it too high for me to angle at his face. Standing is the same issue. Matt sits around trying to help me out but this isn’t working well. He could’ve sat on the couch, damn him. Matthew sits further to the tip of the chair. “Here,” he says.
Matthew’s hands find my waist and pull me in. His warm hands give the insides of my uncovered legs shivers. All my hairs stand up at the feel of his touch. Matt sits me on his left leg, straddling his thigh. My breath catches and if I heard it, there’s no doubt he had too. His lips part slightly. The height is perfect for me to reach his face, even if this is a little unorthodox for patient and doctor. I don’t think that’s the kind of relationship we’re both going for anymore.
“This might hurt a bit.” His eyes shut, I’m so close I can tell every single eyelash from the next. I see the pores on his cheeks. I see the faint glares of tiny other scars he has in other parts of his face, hidden around his hairline, dressing his jaw. I notice his hand still hasn’t left my waist.
“I’m used to it,” Matt says. I’m sure he is. I close in with my body, my panties scratching against his sweatpants. We both breathe in deep. I feel a little wetness slowly trickling down to my underwear. His hands hold me strongly but providing room for me to move. His thigh is firm and warm under the fabric, giving in perfect pressure around some sensitive parts of mine.
I try keeping my cool and start the suture. His face flinches slightly as I poke him with the needle, and I only see him through the shimmer of the lights outside. It’s enough to get it done. It takes 4 stitches. I knot the end of it, but remember how I left the scissors on the table when rummaging the bag. My heart is beating loud, not sure if worried I’m messing this up or trying to keep my body from seeping in his pants. I don’t want to ruin this positioning though, so I lean back to catch the scissors without leaving. He puts his hands up my torso, holding me up. Just as my hand grabs it, I start wondering how long we can keep this up without a turn of events where both of us are naked. I’d say 5 minutes. I cut the thread but neither of us moves to make me leave.
“It’s done. You’ll live.”
“I’m sure.” He smiles. “Are you in a hurry?”
“God, no.”
“Good.” His hands go down on my body and then up my thighs, rubbing once more while my skin prickles by our close contact. He picks up the needle and scissors from me, puts them on the ground, leaning into my ear. His hot breath touches my neck. “I’ll make you feel things no one has ever done before.”
I believe every second of it. A soft moan comes from my mouth. The tips of my toes are touching the floor and I push myself on his thigh. He grunts and bites my neck, licking and kissing it after. “You like grinding on my thigh?”
One of my hands is resting on his chest and the other I move to pull on his thick hair. He snakes one of his hands to find my uncovered nipples and his heavy hand pinches one of them. He suddenly slaps my thigh hard and I whimper loudly. “Answer.”
“Yes. I love it. Fuck, Matthew.”
He leans back in the chair, hands on my hips and smiles at me, waiting.
“Undress,” he asks simply. I moan at how demanding he is on what he wants. I get up and take my long tee and panties off. Matthew does the same with his shirt and pants, no underwear.
“Come on then,” he says. “I want to feel you dripping on my leg.” Both my hands grasp his shoulders, bracing myself as I join him again. His entire body is a work of art, perfectly muscular, lean. My wet pussy sits right on his thigh and I start off slow but there’s no hiding how much I enjoy feeling him between my legs. My head drops and opening my eyes I can see his hard dick, neglected, throbbing between us. I lick my lips in want but don’t let up on humping him.
Matt comes forth and licks my lower lip so slow I might be dreaming. I realize this is the first time his lips have touched mine but I’m already intoxicated. His hands touch my breasts and massages them, touching the nipples, pulling them even. I’m so close to coming, the moans falling from my mouth are long gone into hard breaths and Matthew kisses me, holding the back of my head and my waist as my hips keep moving. His tongue sensuously touches mine, the stubble on his face roughly grazing my chin and I suddenly come, wetting his thigh even more. He smiles while kissing me and bites my lower lip. “Good girl. What do you want?”
“I wanna feel your cock in my mouth.”
He smiles openly and sucks my nipples one by one circling them, kissing and biting my breasts. I sigh. “There’ll be time for that later.”
Matthew pushes me up and leads me to the couch. “Let me thank you for taking care of me,” he says. Turning my back to him, he pushes me softly to kneel on the couch. I bring my hands to the back of the couch and lower my head between them, waiting for his next move. Matthew’s dick slowly coats himself in my wetness, grazing all over my sensitive clit and I shudder. My legs falter and his other hand holds my hip in place. I lick and bite my lips to keep from being too loud but to no avail when he puts his heavy head right on my entrance and stops moving.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asks. I writhe and whimper waiting for him to fill me. He slaps my ass and fills me up all at once making me scream in pleasure.
“Since you didn’t answer, twice, if you moan, I stop,” he warns me. Matthew starts a punishing pace, going slow and the deepest anyone had ever been. His cock is thick and his head drags along my softest spot. He licks his fingers and puts them against my clit without even moving, just letting the drag and sway of our hips torture me. I bite my lip, my arm, the sofa, anything I can put my mouth on to keep me from moaning but keep pushing back against his cock wanting him even faster, but he doesn’t want me to get off so easily. I look back to see him frowning and focused.
“You’re being so quiet, I think you deserve some reward. Tell me what you want,” he swats my ass cheek. I yelp and take a heartbeat to start begging.
“Oh please, Matthew, please, move faster, let me come.”
“Scream for me.”
Matthew grabs my hair and pulls to him so my head is off the couch while drilling into me, rubbing my clit with his fingers. I scream his name over and over again until I’m on the verge of falling off a cliff.
“Fuck, Matthew, come inside me, please, YES.” My walls start clenching around him and his grip on my hair and hips is so tight I can barely shudder. My body goes taut and I feel him fill me up. I moan loudly and he grunts, letting go of my hair, leaving my scalp hurting - but such good pain. He pulls out of me and puts his fingers to my dripping pussy before we both collapse on the couch, breathing heavily and smiling at the feel.
“My friends call me Matt.”
“Ok, Matthew.”
He chuckles. “Don’t start.”
“Give me 10 minutes.”
