We suggest that you review your account to verify that you're using a unique and secure password. Check out the advice from our Policy & Abuse committee on Protecting Your AO3 Account and Keeping Your Account Secure.

If you believe your AO3 account has been compromised for any reason (i.e. you received an email that your username changed), you can change or reset your password to ensure control of your account. Changing your password will automatically log you out of all sessions on all devices. You can find the option to change your password in your Preferences.

If you encounter one of these comments on your own work or someone else's, please report them to the Policy & Abuse committee. To do so:

Select the "Thread" button on the scammer's comment. This will take you to the specific comment page.

Scroll to the bottom of the page and select Policy Questions & Abuse Reports.

In the "Brief summary of Terms of Service violation" field, enter "Spambot".

In the "Description of the content you are reporting" field, enter "This is a spambot, their username is USERNAME."

Reporting in this fashion helps us auto-sort your report so that it can be handled as soon as a Policy & Abuse volunteer is available. To help us address reports about these types of bots as fast as possible, please only submit one report per account, and don't include multiple accounts in the same report.

We also encourage you to share this post and help spread the word about how to protect yourself from scammers and reduce spam on AO3.

almost home

Jack should’ve been asleep.

He’d left PTMC nearly an hour ago after Robby took over the trauma they’d worked through shift change. You’d stayed behind to finish the note, update the family and wait on a consultant who’d stopped answering at the exact point everyone needed him.

Twenty minutes, you’d told Jack.

He checked the time again.

Fifty-one had passed.

Jack lay against the pillows shirtless, wearing loose pyjama pants, his prosthetic resting beside the bed. He’d showered, set his alarm and done everything he usually did after nights. His body was tired enough for sleep. His head wasn’t interested.

Your side of the bed was empty.

It wasn’t really yours. This was still his apartment, though you stayed often enough for the distinction to matter less than it used to. A few of your things had found places there, and Jack liked having them around. Waking with your knee across his thigh and your hand tucked under his shirt had become familiar. So had your weight beside him after work, warm enough for his body to settle.

He reached across the mattress and rested his palm where your waist usually ended up. The sheets were cool. “Come home, baby,” he muttered.

His phone was charging on the nightstand. Jack unplugged it and opened your messages.

Your last text sat at the bottom of the thread.

you: twenty minutes. swear. 🙏

He’d reacted with a thumbs-down.

You hadn’t answered since.

jack: Still there?

The message delivered without a reply.

Jack leaned back and scrolled upward instead. Most of the thread was ordinary. Groceries. Shift changes. A photo of a takeout menu with three items circled and pick one before I lose the will to live written beneath it. 

Farther back was a picture of you asleep on his couch in his black sweater. He’d taken it after trying twice to wake you for bed. Your cheek was pressed into the cushion, one sleeve pulled over your hand and your legs tucked under you.

You’d accused him the next morning of keeping evidence. He’d told you it was insurance.

The next photo was from dinner a few weeks ago. You sat across from him with your chin resting in your palm, looking over the rim of your wineglass. He remembered your foot pressed against his beneath the table and the way you’d caught him staring.

“What do you want?” you’d asked.

“Nothing.”

You hadn’t believed him.

He hadn’t been lying. He already had you. Your things mixed with his. Your voice in his apartment after years of coming home to silence and pretending he preferred it. Sometimes Jack still looked at you and couldn’t quite believe how easily you’d become part of his life.

Then came the photos meant only for him.

The first showed the hem of your dress lifted over your thighs. The next was taken in his shower, one hand covering your breast while water ran down your stomach. Another showed your thighs spread across his sheets with your underwear pulled aside.

Jack shifted against the pillows.

His cock had started thickening beneath his pants, though the wanting had begun before that. It had been there when he reached across the bed and found cold sheets. There when he saw the photo of you asleep in his sweater and remembered carrying you from the couch because you’d refused to wake properly.

He opened another photo.

You were kneeling between his thighs, looking up at him with your lips swollen and wet. Jack had taken the photo himself, one hand tangled in your hair while his thumb rested along your jaw. The lower half of his cock was visible beside your cheek.

He remembered the heat of your mouth. The slow drag of your tongue beneath him and the way your fingers tightened around the base of his cock when he pushed deeper. You’d watched his face while you took him, pleased whenever his control slipped enough for you to hear it.

His cock pressed harder against the fabric.

“Jesus, sweetheart.”

Jack lowered his phone and rubbed his palm over himself through his pants. The pressure helped for two slow strokes before it made the ache sharper.

His phone buzzed against his stomach.

you: still here 😭

Another message followed.

you: finishing my last note

jack: You said twenty minutes.

you: i was young and optimistic

jack: Come home.

The typing bubble appeared, disappeared and returned.

you: miss me? 😉

Jack looked at the photo still open on his screen.

jack: You know I do.

He sent the photo back to you.

Jack could picture you at the workstation with your phone held low beneath the desk, smiling down at his answer while pretending to finish your note.

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

you: dr. abbot…

jack: Still works.

Jack slipped his hand beneath his waistband. His fingers closed around his cock, fully hard now and already damp at the tip.

He stroked himself slowly, thumb spreading the moisture over the head before drawing down again. His eyes stayed on the photo. Your mouth near his cock. Your face turned up towards him. The trust in the way you knelt between his legs and let him hold your hair.

Your next message arrived with a picture.

Jack opened it.

You were in an empty call room, scrub top lifted enough to show your stomach and the lower edge of your bra. Your scrub pants were loosened, your hand visibly inside your underwear.

His grip tightened.

“Fuck.”

jack: Take another one.

you: greedy 😈

jack: Show me.

The next photo showed more. Your fingers disappeared beneath your underwear, wrist angled between your thighs. He could see the pressure of your hand against yourself beneath the fabric.

Jack pushed his pants lower over his hips. His cock rested thick against his stomach, flushed darker towards the head. He wrapped his hand around himself again and stroked slowly enough to feel each drag of his palm.

you: what are you doing?

Jack glanced down at his fist.

jack: Thinking about you.

you: what about me?

His hand moved from base to tip, firmer now. He could’ve given you something brief and made you wait until you came home. He was tired, hard and alone in a bed where he’d grown used to having you within reach.

He wanted you to know.

jack: Your legs around me.

He sent another before you replied.

jack: How you taste after I’ve already made you come.

His grip tightened at the head of his cock.

jack: How tight your pussy gets when I’m all the way inside you.

The typing bubble disappeared.

Jack closed his eyes and pictured you underneath him with your thighs spread around his hips, hands gripping his shoulders while he pushed inside you. He knew the first tight hold of your body around him and how you softened once he kissed you and gave you time to take him.

He knew how his cock looked inside you.

He’d watched himself draw back, wet from you, before pushing deep again until his hips pressed against yours. He’d held your thighs open and watched your pussy stretch around him. He knew the tight clench he felt whenever his thumb found your clit and how much stronger it became once you got close.

His phone buzzed.

you: I want you inside me when I get home

Jack read it twice.

His hips lifted into his hand.

jack: Yeah?

you: want you to fuck me until I’m screaming your name

jack: You will be.

Jack liked you loud.

He could hear it too easily. Your voice filling the bedroom while he fucked you harder, one hand braced beside your head and the other gripping your thigh. You’d beg him not to stop once he had you close. Your nails would drag over his back while your pussy squeezed his cock, trying to hold every inch.

you: promise? 😏

Jack slowed his hand. The thought of you reading his answer with your fingers still between your thighs made his cock pulse against his palm.

jack: Come home and find out, sweetheart.

you: tell me what you’d do

Jack let his head rest against the pillow. His control had already started to go. He could feel it in the uneven pull of his hand and the tension building low in his stomach.

The thought of getting his mouth on you made his cock throb in his fist.

Jack loved opening you with his thumbs and seeing how wet you’d already become for him. He’d drag his tongue slowly through your pussy first, tasting you before his lips closed around your clit.

“Fuck, baby…”

His hand tightened as he pictured sucking you gently, then harder when your hips started moving beneath him. You never stayed still for long. Your fingers would slide into his hair and your body would chase each pull of his mouth, hips lifting as he kept your clit between his lips.

He liked how quickly you stopped trying to control it. The small movements becoming needier, your pussy pressing against his mouth while he held your thighs open and took everything you gave him.

Jack would push his tongue inside you and feel your body tighten around it. You’d roll your hips against his face, chasing the pressure while your hand pulled at his hair.

He’d go back to your clit before you could say anything, sucking until your thighs trembled against his shoulders. Hearing you come for him made him harder, but tasting it got to him just as badly. The first rush against his tongue. Your hips pushing into his mouth. Your voice breaking around his name.

He’d keep licking you through it, slower once you became sensitive, until you tried to pull away.

Jack wanted inside you. He wanted the stretch of your pussy around his cock and the way you clenched when he fucked you deep.

He wanted his mouth on you just as badly. Your body open beneath him. Your hips moving against his tongue. Your taste still on his lips when he climbed over you.

He typed with his free hand.

jack: I’d put my mouth on you until you came.

you: jack…

jack: Then I’d make you come again on my cock.

Your reply came quickly.

you: i need you so bad

His mouth pulled faintly at one corner.

jack: Go finish your note.

you: you started this 😒

jack: And I’ll finish it when you get here.

He opened your photo again, his eyes returning to your hand inside your underwear. You were still at work, touching yourself because he’d asked what you were doing and refused to let the conversation stay innocent.

He imagined you walking into the bedroom already wet from everything he’d said, impatient and flushed from the drive. He’d get you onto your back before you finished telling him how badly you needed him.

His hand moved faster, the muscles in his stomach tightening as his hips began meeting his fist. He pictured your taste still on his tongue when he climbed over you and pushed inside.

His strokes grew rougher. He saw your face beneath him, lips parted while his cock filled you. He’d watch himself disappear into your pussy, then draw back slowly enough for both of you to feel it before driving deep again.

Your legs would be tight around his waist while he fucked you harder, your voice breaking every time he pushed deep. He imagined his thumb on your clit and the first hard clench of your pussy around him when you came, your body pulling him deeper while he kept moving through it.

Jack’s rhythm broke. “Fuck…”

He thought about coming inside you.

The first thick pulse filling you while he held himself deep. Another following as your pussy tightened around his cock. He’d stay buried inside you through the last of it, forehead pressed against yours while your hands held onto his shoulders.

Then he’d move again.

Slow, shallow thrusts while his come gathered around his cock. He’d watch it slip out whenever he pulled back, then push into you again while more ran down between your thighs.

His fist tightened as he imagined his cock coated in you and his come, disappearing inside you again while your thighs stayed open for him.

“Gonna fill you,” Jack muttered. His voice broke around the next curse. “Fuck… sweetheart.”

His hips drove into his fist as he came, the first streak spilling hot over his hand and stomach. Jack kept stroking himself through it, jaw tight while your name left him in a rough, low sound. Another pulse followed, then another, his cock twitching in his palm as his pace finally slowed.

He stayed against the pillows with his eyes closed, chest rising hard.

His phone buzzed near his hip.

you: leaving now 🥳

Jack looked down at the mess across his stomach and reached for the tissues on the nightstand. He cleaned himself, pulled his pants back over his hips and plugged his phone into the charger.

jack: Drive safe, baby.

You sent a heart.

He stared at it with his thumb hovering over the screen.

jack: Come straight to the bedroom when you get here.

you: thought you were going to sleep

jack: Changed my mind.

Your drive took twenty-three minutes when traffic was light.

Jack knew because he checked the time twice, then gave up pretending he wasn’t waiting. His body felt heavy from the shift, but every time he pictured you coming through the door in the same scrubs from the photo, his cock stirred again.

The front door opened, followed by your footsteps through the apartment. You appeared in the bedroom doorway with your bag over one shoulder, hair still pulled back from work. You looked exhausted until you found him awake against the pillows.

Your eyes moved over the messy sheets. “Thought you took care of yourself.”

Jack pulled the blankets back. “Come here.”

You dropped your bag near the door and climbed onto the mattress. He caught your waist before you could settle beside him and pulled you across his lap, kissing you hard enough to make you brace a hand against his chest.

You smiled against his mouth when you felt him hardening beneath you. “Already?”

His hand slipped beneath your top and closed around your breast through your bra. Your hips shifted over him, and Jack’s jaw tightened. “You touched yourself before you left,” he said.

“So did you.”

“Wasn’t the same.”

“No?”

Jack brought your mouth back to his, tongue pushing between your lips while he held you at the hip. When he broke the kiss, he kept you close enough for your mouth to brush his when you spoke.

“Spent half the wait thinking about my mouth on you,” he said.

“And the other half?”

“Fucking you.”

Your hand moved down and pressed over his cock through his pants. Jack groaned under his breath. Your fingers caught the hem of your top, but Jack stopped you and took hold of it himself. “Let me.”

He pulled it over your head, dropped it beside the bed and brought your mouth back to his. You smiled and kissed the corner of his mouth. “You really missed me.”

Jack ran his hand slowly over your side, palm settling at your waist where it belonged. “Sweetheart, you have no fucking idea.”

His eyes lowered to your pants as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband.

“Now, take these off.”

Waking up engulfed in Matt’s strong arms is how you want to start every day from now on. The alarm on your phone was going off though and you could do with less of that.

The sleeping man behind you lets out an annoyed groan into the back of your neck at the noise, burying his face in your hair, unwilling to let you go.

Usually, Matt is up early anyway by habit, but today apparently he’s more than happy to lie in like this with you, and now that stupid sound is interrupting it.

“Matty I have to get up” you whisper, reaching to turn your alarm off, before trying to wiggle out of his beefy arms that have you in a strong grip, but he just groans again, and pulls you tighter against him. It’s then that you’re suddenly made very aware of another part of him that is much more awake, pressed flush against your ass.

“Matty I have to go to work” you try to argue seriously, though you can’t hide the amusement in your voice.

“Just quit” Matt grumbles, his voice deep and full of sleep as he slips one of his hands under your shirt, “I’ll pay your rent.”

“You’re crazy Matthew” you laugh, rolling your eyes at his outlandish idea, though you’d stopped struggling now, falling victim to the feeling of his warm, strong body wrapped around you. You still have time to get ready.

“‘M serious” he mutters, his face still buried in your hair, “or you could just come and live with me.”

This makes you laugh even harder, “did you just ask me to move in with you?”

As though Matt was speaking without thinking, he pauses for a second then also chuckles and sheepishly mumbles “I guess I did” before pressing a kiss to your neck, “I mean it though, move in with me?”

Thankfully Matt allows you to turn over in his arms to face him, and you take in the sight of the vigilante at his softest.

He had adorably bad bed head that was made worse from your pulling hands last night, his eyes only just opening for the first time as you span, and he looked more relaxed and at peace than you’d ever seen him.

Pulling you even closer into his bare chest, he pulls your thigh up over his hip and shamelessly feels up your leg, over your ass and hip, before his rough hand wraps back around your waist.

“You want me to move in with you?” You ask teasingly, scraping your fingers over the side of his head through his hair, and Matt closes his eyes again and hums at the sensation.

“Yeah I do” he replies completely serious, voice gentle but sure, “we don’t have to live next door either, we can find a new place, anywhere you want.”

That surprises you a little. Not only does he actually want to move in with you, but he’s talking about a getting a place together?

The wide grin slowly spreading across your face gives Matt his answer before you can even verbalise it, opening his unfocused eyes again.

“Matty…” you breathe out, stroking your thumb across his cheekbone, then over his stubbled jaw, fingers resting on the steady pulse of his neck.

“Is that a yes?” He chuckles, tilting his head a little.

Another laugh escapes you, “of course it’s a yes” you giggle, and Matt’s face softens at the sound.

“I love you” Matt says, voice full of sincerity

“I love you too” you reply, no hesitation in your voice or in your pulse.

“Good” he hums, before he’s pulling you into a passionate kiss, making it infinitely harder for you to get up and go to work.

“I really need to get up now” you mumble against his lips, and Matt finally, actually lets you go, dramatically groaning again and falling onto his back like you’ve caused him great pain.

The sheets hang dangerously low around his waist, clearly unashamed by the tent he’s still making as he listens to you get ready. His hands are behind his head making his biceps bulge and the slight smirk on his face tells you he knows you keep pausing to stare at him for a second.

“Are you sure I can’t just call Urich and tell him I need you for the day?” He grumbles, giving you his best puppy face as you finish kissing him goodbye, leaning down over your bed which he clearly didn’t want to get up from any time soon.

“That might work” you start, pecking his lips again, “if he didn’t know we were dating, and you know he’s too smart for that” you laugh, smiling even wider when your big, twice your age, vigilante of a boyfriend actually pouts.

“Get some more sleep, old man” you tease, giving him one last kiss before fluffing his hair.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s not whey you were saying last night” he mumbles out teasingly, rolling his eyes but underlying tone tells you he’s not annoyed, not even close.

Once you finally manage to slip out the door, and leave, Matt stretches his sore muscles with a rough grunt, wincing slightly when his bad shoulder pops, before he flips onto his front, and buries his face in your pillow with his arms under it, supporting his head.

The sheets pool his waist, broad, scarred back on display to the morning light streaming through the curtain he was only away of because of the slight temperate difference, and he quickly falls asleep again, your scent surrounding him making it easy for him to drift off.

Never really knowing what to do without you on his days off anymore, once Matt finally leaves your bed, he decides to go to Fogwells to work out a little, beat up some poor punching bags.

After stopping by his own apartment to get his stuff, accidentally getting distracted by work he wasn’t supposed to be doing for a couple of hours, he eventually makes his way down to the boxing club.

A few hours later, you’re walking into the old, rundown looking gym, second guessing you’re in the right place for half a second till you hear a steady snap snap sound coming from inside.

Finishing work fairly early today, when you’d texted Matt, he said he was here and you could come meet him if you wanted to. It didn’t look like there was anyone here from the outside. It was definitely not open to the public.

“You can turn the lights on” Matt calls from further inside the building, hearing the door open and your familiar heart beat, “the switch is to the right of the front door.”

Following his directions, you flick the switch, and the warm yellow lights slowly flicker on, illuminating the old boxing club. As you walk further in, you look at all the peeling posters, the faint smell of old leather and sweat hitting your nose.

Nothing prepares you for the sight you see when you turn the corner though.

There is Matt, shirtless and so sweaty it looks like he’s been at this for hours. His broad, muscular back half facing towards you as he viciously strikes the punching bag, his biceps flexing with every hit. His chest is heaving, rough breaths being released every time he punches, and you can see the raw power behind them.

His head tilts towards you slightly as you walk closer, and after a final hit, he stops the bag from swinging with a tap of his glove before he’s turning to you, still panting.

There’s beads of sweat rolling down his body and into his waistband, his hair damp, and you can’t help the way you’re practically eating him with your eyes right now because this was not what you were expecting to walk in on.

“Hey sweetheart” he greets, still breathless, like he doesn’t know he looks like an actual god right now.

“Hey yourself” you hum, still shamelessly enjoying the sight of him, and he can’t help the little smirk on his face because he’s very aware of what he’s doing to you right now, even if this really wasn’t his intention when he asked you to meet him here.

Matt takes the red boxing gloves off, dumping them on the bench to the side and picking up his bottle of water, before he’s closing the distance between you both, not completely though because he doesn’t want to get you all sweaty, only the hand on your hip touching you.

“Are you like, allowed to be here?” You wonder, looking around the space again once you’ve finished gawking, confused at how not open it seems.

“I mean I’d hope so” Matt chuckles, “I own it.”

“Of course you do” you huff, but smile too. You really do forget how much money he makes.

The poster behind him catches your eye. The big white faded font said ‘Battlin’ Jack Murdock’ on it. It clicks then, why he owns it.

“My dad used to fight and train here” Matt explains, pausing to chug from his water bottle, and you turn back to him, watching the way his throat bob with every swallow, the drops of sweat running down his neck, “the old owners were going to sell it so I bought it. It’s not open anymore, but I come here to work out a lot. It’s more… private. I don’t have to pretend to be a normal blind person” he finishes.

Wandering towards the clearly newer punching bag, you pushing it lightly with your fingers as you pass, making it sway again before going to look at the boxing ring in the middle of the room, running your hand along the old, worn ropes.

A surprised gasp escapes you when big, sweaty arms circle around your middle, before they’re lifting you up onto the ring platform. Matt makes sure you’re steady before letting you go, and then he’s stepping up himself, pulling the ropes apart in the crook of his elbow for you so you can duck between them.

“I’ve never even seen a boxing ring in person” you laugh as you slowly walk to the middle, still looking around at everything, the decades of adverts for fights, the old equipment that sat unused.

Matt stands in front of you, with a different pair of boxing gloves in his hand. Your eyes widen when he holds them out to you.

“Oh absolutely not” you immediately start, not wanting to make a fool of yourself, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I know” Matt shrugs with a cheeky smile, stepping closer to you, dipping his head lower to yours, “that’s why I’m going to teach you.”

Relenting, unable to say no to him and his stupid perfect face, you let him strap the slightly too big gloves into your hands. They weren’t the same ones he was using earlier, and luckily you’d dressed for work pretty casually today.

Not exactly perfect for an impromptu boxing session, but still.

Once the gloves are secure, Matt comes round behind you and begins adjusting your stance, pressing his body against yours.

“Left foot forward” he instructs, and you follow is words, and he kicks your feet further apart slightly, which makes you swallow as you feel the heat of him against your back.

“Keep most of your weight on your back foot” Matt explains, his voice low in your ear, “which should be your dominant foot.”

Nodding, you try to focus on what he’s telling you and less on the rumble of his words against your back.

Then, his arms wrap around you to position your arms, bringing your left hand closer to yours face, and the other further out, as though you’re ready to block a hit.

“When you strike” Matt starts, moving your body like a puppet from behind, “you want to turn your whole body into the punch” he says as he mimics the movement for you, turning your wrist down right as your arm straightens out, before he curls your arm back up to your face like it was before, “always bring your hand back to block, and remember to breathe when you make contact.” He finishes, his voice becoming lower towards the end, putting emphasis on the word ‘breathe’ by doing so in your ear as he spoke.

With the way your heart is beating, you’re so sure he can hear it as you try to focus on his instructions, but most of your attention is on the feeling of his bare chest against your back, the way his strong arms surrounding you as his calloused hands move yours with him. The deep timber of his voice vibrates through your own body as he talks.

Matt guides you through the movement of a strike a couple more times, before moving on to how to strike with your other hand, and how to do upper cuts, before he lets you go and stands in front of you again.

“Try and hit me” he says, and your eyes widen again.

“Matt! No! I don’t want to hit you!” You immediately protest, hating the mischievous smile on his face already.

“I said try, sweetheart” he insists, cocking his head a little.

Giving in, you throw a very half-hearted punch which lands on his upper stomachs and he doesn’t even flinch. He just raises his eyebrow at you.

“Do it properly, sweetheart, and aim higher” Matt encourages, extending your arm again so it curls against his face in slow motion, “I promise you won’t hurt me.”

Releasing a frustrated little sigh, which Matt enjoys because it means you’re getting closer to properly hitting him, you throw a proper punch. Still not as hard because he wants you to hit his head, but not as bad as before.

This time, you don’t even have time to process what happened because Matt dodged it so fast.

“I said try angel, you have to try” Matt laughs, and you roll your eyes.

This time, you move quicker, more force behind it but just as fast, Matt turns his body to the side and you miss, again.

“I feel like this isn’t fair” you complain, and Matt laughs again.

“Oh absolutely not, but I’m having fun” he teases, smirking way too cocky.

Convinced he’s just going to dodge anyway, you really try this time. You try to strike him with your right hand, then your left, then using the uppercut he showed you, before using your right hand again.

Matt dodges every single one effortlessly, and on the last strike, he grabs your wrist and suddenly you’re spinning on the spot and being pulled back into his large body again, your arm pinned behind you.

“Too slow” he taunts low in your ear, and you can’t help the slight shiver that runs down your spine. You can tell Matt felt it too because the grip on your wrist tightens ever so slightly, but still not enough to hurt. Never enough to hurt.

“I don’t think that’s a boxing move” you huff, trying to sound annoyed and hide the shakiness in your voice, because you’ve barely been thinking about boxing this whole time anyway, and now, clearly neither is Matt.

“I don’t think you mind” Matt retorts deeply, his other hand resting on your hip, stroking under your shirt slightly with his thumb.

He can hear your heart beat rising even more now, and it thuds in his ears when he lowers his face to press a kiss to your neck, directly on your fluttering pulse.

A breathy little moan escapes you at the feeling of his lips, and you can feel his cock starting to twitch to life against your ass at the sound, through his thin jogging bottoms.

Unfortunately, as much as Matt would absolutely love to fuck you right now, in the middle of the ring, you both have plans.

Matt presses a few more kisses to your jaw, your cheek, then your temple, before he’s letting you go and turn to face him again.

“We have a dinner reservation soon sweetheart” he says as his hand stokes across your cheekbone, like he wasn’t the one to initiate this whole interaction.

“You’re so mean” you huff, as he leans down to catch your lips in a kiss he tries to keep restrained, while he undone the straps on the gloves for you, freeing your hands before he throws them into the corner of the ring. Then he pulls you flush against his front, deepening the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck.

When your hands thread through the hair at the base of his skull, Matt lets out a little groan before he’s pulling back.

“Unless you want to wear your work clothes to the fancy restaurant, we really should go home and get ready” Matt argues, his voice rough and breathless, and it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

Eventually, after a couple more kisses, Matt helps you descend from the ring, and gathers his stuff, throwing on a shirt, hanging his gym bag over his shoulder, and grabbing his cane, before you’re both walking home through the crowded streets.

Once you’re finally ready, Matt nearly doesn’t let you both leave for the restaurant again once he gets his hands on your pretty, dressed up waist.

Though dates with Matt were always amazing, it wasn’t very often they were this… fancy.

The restaurant was sleek, dark and modern, with prices so high they made your eyes water. It’s easy to forget that Matt can afford all this, but he insisted on spoiling you ‘how you deserve’.

He finally had a reason to spend the money, he’d argued so here you were in the nicest dress you owned, heels aching on your feet and makeup carefully done, sitting on a stool at a bar you’d never in a million years even consider going to.

Matt was devastatingly handsome as always, also in a fine dark suit, the deep burgundy shirt he had on was undone at the collar, letting the faint sparkle of the cross around his neck catch the light occasionally.

Despite the reservation he made, and the fact you’re both a little late due to Matt’s wandering hands, your still table wasn’t ready yet so you’d been invited to sit at the bar and have a drink. Ordering his usual whiskey, he smiles fondly when you order a much fruitier cocktail.

Matt kept rolling and shifting his bad shoulder and even though he tried to hide it, you noticed.

“Is it sore?” You ask, nodding towards it.

“A little, I think I might have over done it today” Matt admits, his hand coming up to rub it through his dark suit now he’s not trying to hide it.

“I can give you a massage later? Would that help?” You offer gently.

“Depends” he says smirking, “are you gonna give me a happy ending?” He teases.

“You’re such a pervert” you laugh.

“Only for you” he winks, reaching over to squeeze your thigh.

After the topic shifts and you chat about your respective work for a little bit, Matt excuses himself to go to the bathroom, leaving you alone with your drink as the tapping of his cane faded.

Your solitude was short lived though, before a man you didn’t know came and sat down right next to you.

He was maybe about your age, and absolutely not your type. He had a bad fake tan, his teeth were unnaturally white, and the probably expensive suit he was wearing looked about two sizes too small. The suit trouser ends landing above his bare ankles in a way that was comical honestly.

You resisted the urge to actually grimace when he tried to talk to you.

“Let me buy you a drink” he said, his voice sounding like he wasn’t used to being told no, “you look so sad here all by yourself” He fake pouted.

“No thank you, and I’m not alone, my boyfriend will be back any minute” you reply, your voice short and clipped, even going as far as to angle your body away from him.

“Don’t be stuck up” he continues, “what do you want?”

“I said no” you say, more force seeping into your tone at the man’s persistence.

“Another one of these?” He ignores your protests, even going as far as to reach for your drink now, his fingers skimming the cold glass before you realise and move it out of his reach, looking at him wide eyed, getting up from your seat to get away from him.

The man looks like he’s getting increasingly frustrated with your refusal, and he follows you. He starts to walk towards you and opens his mouth to say something before he stops.

“She said no” Matt’s voice comes from behind you, that same tone he used when he was in lawyer mode, but with something much darker under it.

“Who the fuck are you old man?” The guy spits, “fuck off, she’s just playing hard to get ain’t cha?” He continues, even nudging you like you’re supposed to be in on this joke.

Matt’s hands visibly white knuckle around his cane as the man touches you, before he’s stepping in between you and the man, physically shielding you from him.

The man immediately squares up, puffing his chest and huffing out “I’m not above hitting a blind guy.”

Matt let’s out a single bark of laughter, though there’s no humour in it at all. It honestly sends a little shiver up your spine.

“Oh please do” Matt taunts, his voice eerily calm.

The stranger visibly bristles again, not expecting such obvious bait, and yet his fists are curling.

Matt’s tilts his head at the man in curiosity.

“Does your wife know you’re here?” Matt asks, and the man visibly blanches for a second, the question catching him off guard, “poor woman, marrying a pathetic piece of shit like you.”

Your boyfriend could smell the multiple perfumes sticking to him, one of them sitting heavily beneath the others like he exists in it. He can hear the discarded wedding band sitting in the man’s jacket pocket.

The man sputters, stuttering over his words, struggling to think of something smart to say in retaliation.

“What was that? Sorry I don’t speak asshole” your boyfriend taunts darkly.

Matt’s words seem to send the man into a fit of further rage, and before you can even blink, his fist is making contact with Matt’s jaw, busting his lip.

“Oh my god!” You cry out in shock, trying to pull Matt backwards and away from the man but he just keeps you behind him. He didn’t even flinch, the only sign he was even hit was the way his head is turned to the side slightly. He didn’t even try to dodge it, you realise. You know he could have.

The chuckle that leaves Matt’s mouth is downright sinful when he turns forward again. He licks the blood off his lip with a sharp grin, his hand sliding inside the pocket of his trousers. For a second, you think the cheating man thinks Matt has a gun at the way his eyes widen.

Instead, Matt pulls out one of his firm business cards and holds it between two fingers.

“Matthew Murdock, Attorney at Law” he starts, “you’ll be hearing from me shortly” he states simply, before flicking the card at the man’s chest.

The asshole fumbles the card, looking from it to Matt again as the cogs slowly turn in his head, before he starts to visibly panic as it sinks in.

Matt is a lawyer, and is going to sue him.

He can’t even get a word out before Matt is turning towards you now, and wrapping his arm around your shoulder, walking you away from the bewildered man.

Leading Matt into the disabled toilet, you’re immediately pulling his head down so you can inspect his bust lip properly, grabbing some toilet roll to dab the blood away.

“Hey, hey, I’m fine angel, it’s really not bad. I don’t think it will even bruise” he reassures you, propping his cane up against the wall before grabbing your wrists and holding them away from his face and into his chest instead to stop your frantic cleaning.

“The guy hits like a pussy” Matt laughs, and despite yourself, a laugh starts to bubble out of you too.

“Oh my god Matt!” You laugh, a little bewildered yourself, “you baited him into hitting you so you could sue him? You’re actually insane”

“He deserves it,” your boyfriend just shrugs, amusement still clear on his face, but it drops away completely as he mutters “he’s lucky that’s not all I did to him for touching you.”

You just shake your head at him in disbelief.

“That was also… really fucking hot” you confess, because you really had loved the way he defended you like that. He’s sexy when he’s mean.

“Oh yeah?” Matt says lowly, dropping your wrists now so he can pull you closer by your waist.

“Yeah, I love you all angry and protective” you tease.

“Oh you love me, huh?” Your boyfriend flirts back, smirking.

“Yeah, so much” you reply, much more seriously and Matt lets out a very pleased hum before catching you in an iron tasting kiss.

“Let’s get out of here?” Matt asks eventually, breaking the kiss, “we can go to that little Indian place you like, with the fairy lights?”

“I thought you’d never ask” you laugh, and then he’s leading you out into the night, his arm wrapped protectively round your waist.

A few nights later, Matt had gone out on patrol. He’s barely been going out recently which is making him feel guilty.

He feels like he’s being selfish, but when you’re in his bed he can’t resist staying with you. Tonight though, he drags himself out, the itch to fight is burning under his skin too hot to ignore.

Just his fucking luck though, the first villain he runs into used sound, really loud, ultrasonic sound and after just about managing to take him down half blind, Matt stumbles home, nearly falling off the fucking roof because his ears are ringing so badly. His radar sense is fading in and out, his surroundings spotty.

His next obstacle was to navigate though the living room, but he failed. He walked into the corner of the coffee table and apparently everything he owned was on there because the loud clattering noise echos through the whole apartment.

Wincing, Matt tries to listen to see if it woke you, but he can’t focus properly, the clanging in his ears is still too bad. Groaning, he shakes his head, scuffed, bloody hands revealed as he takes his gloves off and tries to drops them on said table, but they fall off the edge.

Using his now bare hands so he could feel the air currents better, choosing to trust in more reliable senses right now, he sticks his hand out to feel for the sofa that should be just in front of him, before dropping down heavily onto it, shaking his head again, trying to get rid of the horrible sensation in his ears.

“Matt?” You call out, and he just about hears you.

The crash had in fact woken you up, and like the concerned girlfriend you rightfully were, you got up to check on your vigilante boyfriend straight away. It reminded you immensely of that first night when he didn’t even open the door, and you realise it’s probably because he was still dressed like this.

Rounding the corner, you see him sat with his head in his hands, still dressed fully in his Daredeivl suit, mask included. He usually takes the mask off at least, as soon as he gets home so that concerns you straight away, you’d barely seen it on.

“Are you okay? What happened?” You ask a little frantically, standing in front of him, eyes scanning for any obvious injuries or bleeding.

Matt blindly sticks his hands out to find you, pulling you forward to stand between his spread legs once he locates you, sitting back up to bury his face masked in your stomach, like he’s some puppy and not literally still dressed as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, feared vigilante.

“Stupid villain used sound” he says into your shirt, a little louder than he’d usually talk right now, “my ears are ringing like crazy.”

“Oh Matty, are you hurt?” You inquire softly, pulling his head back to look at his masked face, scanning the skin you could see for signs of injury. He had a faint bruise blooming on his chin, and his lip was split, dried and new blood covering his skin like he keeps reopening it.

“Not bad, just took a couple of hits” he tries to placate but you’re never going to get used to him coming back hurt like this. At least tonight he didn’t seem to be in much pain apart from the ringing.

As you look at him, the sudden realisation comes to you that you’re literally holding Daredevil’s face in your hands right now, horns and all, as his own bruised hands trace patterns on the backs of your thighs. You hadn’t ever seen him so close up like this in the full suit before, and you swear he looks even bigger than in it, the material highlighting his muscles. The red lenses of his mask are completely opaque you realise, only giving the illusion that he can see out of them.

Matt only just hears the way your heart speeds up while you straight up admire him, thudding loudly in your chest and his lips quirk into a small knowing smile. Luckily it seems the ringing is slowly going away, and he’s able to hear a little better.

“You like it?” He teases lowly.

He knew you liked Daredevil, but he was always a little hesitant to let you see him like this now you know it’s him. He knows he comes back bloody, his knuckles split after he beats the shit out of people, and he feels ashamed to let you see he’s capable of that kind of violence. Of course you know Daredevil is like that, but you’d be seeing it on him, Matt. The man who holds you at night in those same arms that can cause so much pain.

He hasn’t expected you to like it this much though, he can smell your arousal growing as you trail a finger up the side of his mask, and up one of the horns.

“I thought you said you only had a tiny crush on Daredevil?” He teases again, “this doesn’t seem very tiny to me.”

The finger tracing the edge of the horn runs back down the mask, over his stubble covered jaw and then you graze your thumb over his lip, carefully avoiding the cut, “that was before I knew he was a very sexy lawyer who also happens to be my boyfriend.”

“So if I said I wanted to fuck you right now, in the suit, would you choose the mask off, or on?” He asks, tilting his head in question, a teasing smile on his half covered face.

For half a second, you hesitate in your answer but your body gives you away. The ringing has faded enough now that he could unmistakably hear the way your heart skipped a beat at the question, and the rhythm of your pulse sped up again.

“…On” you mutter quietly, embarrassed he made you choose but you know you can’t lie to him. You can’t even lie to yourself, you’d find it so fucking hot if he fucked you in the whole suit.

“That’s what I thought” he hums as he gets up and stands in front of you, causing your neck to bend upwards to look at him as he rises to his full, intimidating height, before he’s slowly walking you backwards, till your spine hits the wall behind you.

“Are you scared?” He teases, with a tilt of his head, listening to the frantic speed of your pulse.

Shakily, you shake your head no, and he smiles dangerously.

“Hm, you must really like this then” the vigilante hums.

One of his rough hands spreads over your waist, thumb brushing just under your breast, squeezing you through his soft cotton shirt you’re wearing, while he leans his weight on the other against the wall above you, caging you in with his leather clad bicep near your head.

He pulls you flush against his warm body by your waist in one smooth move, feeling every bit of leather and muscle pressed against your thin garment.

There’s no teasing smirk on his face anymore, the change in his demeanour fills the room. This is Daredevil who’s got you pinned against the wall now, and he oozes nothing but pure power.

This is the man who fights villains double, triple his size with his bare hands, the man who fights ninjas and aliens without a second thought. The man who could be absolutely lethal if he wanted to be.

You should be scared right now, any sane person would be, but your heart is thundering in your chest for a completely different reason.

Mouth now dry, you swallow harshly as the position makes even more blood rush to your cheeks and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together while you look up at the vigilante.

“You know” Matt drawls, voice low and baritone, “I can hear your heart racing. I think you like this even more than you’re letting on pretty girl.”

Dipping his head, he brushes his lips against yours before pulling back again, the hand on your waist holding a little tighter as a slightly condescending chuckle leaving his chest at the way you chase him.

“Tell me angel” he leans down again, his deep voice whispering in your ear, “would you like to meet the Devil?”

Unable to trust your words, you nod you head so fast that you’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for how turned on you are right now. As it happens, you simply don’t care anymore, all sense of rationality leaving your brain the second he pinned you against this wall.

“So eager” Matt chuckles lowly, dropping his head again so his lips tickle yours as he speaks, “but I needs words baby.”

“Please” you breathe out, your voice unsteady.

With the hand on your waist, he pulls your bottom halves even closer together and you can feel the thick hardness of his own arousal through the suit pressing up against your stomach.

“Please what?” He purred, “what would you like me to do?”

A tiny whine escapes your throat at being teased like this before you can catch it, and you see the flicker of a smirk on his face at the sound.

“Please touch me?” You manage to get out in a quiet voice but it’s more like a question. The proximity of him like this is driving you crazy, your brain is getting muddy with arousal and he’s not even doing anything but talking yet.

He clicks his teeth in disapproval and the sound sends a shiver down your spine.

“Tell me angel, tell me how you want me to touch you, be specific” he rasps.

“I want you to touch me… like this, to f-fuck me, like this, please” you beg, voice breathless and needy.

“Who do you want to fuck you? Say it” He continues lowly, making you squirm at how the embarrassment is turning into fire in your gut.

“You… Daredevil, I want Daredevil to fuck me” you manage to whine out.

Matt’s on you the second the words leave your lips.

He engulfs you in all all consuming kiss, pushing you even further into the wall as the full length of his towering body presses against yours, and you can feel texture of the mask against your nose.

Biting your lip hard enough to make you gasp, he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, letting out a low hum at the taste of you mixed with the blood from his cut that rumbles through his chest into yours.

Only pulling back long enough to pull your shirt off in one quick motion, leaving you in only your underwear, he kisses you again while he explore the expanse of your sides, one of his thumbs coming up to brush against your pebbling nipple before going lower.

Large hands peel the now soaked fabric of your panties from your skin, letting them drop to your feet, leaving you completely bare before the vigilante.

Matt’s rough hands move around you to take a big handful of your ass, then suddenly he’s lifting you up, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist before he’s catching you in a heated kiss again.

Pressing his weight into you again, you feel every single detail of the leather against your bare skin, and a small moan drifts out of your mouth into his. Matt’s hard length under the suit is pressing against your core now, soaking the red material in your arousal.

The subtle grind of your hips has Matt huffing into the kiss, before his mouth moves down to your neck, sucking harsh love bites against your pulse, biting with his teeth and then soothing the marks with his tongue.

White knuckles grip his shoulders, trying to get purchase on the suit as you tip your head back, a high needy whine coming from your throat as he bites again, harder this time.

“You’re fucking soaked angel” the vigilante groans against your skin, “can smell how turned on you are and I haven’t even touched you properly yet, so desperate for it huh? So desperate for this vigilante cock?”

Nodding your head, you whine again at the friction of his hard leather clad length against your bare cunt when he grinds against you this time, more firmly than your movement.

The hands on your ass are gripping you hard enough to bruise, and you’re starting to pant now, chest heaving.

“Undo my trousers” he orders in a baritone voice, hands occupied with holding you up, only parting from your neck to talk before he’s sucking more hickeys over your skin as he angles his hips away to give you room. Sure he could hold you up with one arm, but what would be the fun in that?

With a mind of their own, your hands fly down to the belt of his suit, shaky fingers scrambling to try and figure out how to undo it. He chuckles lowly again at how eager you are for this.

Finally managing to fumble the buckle open, you undo the suit button and zipper, shucking the leather down as far as you can so his throbbing cock slaps up against his abdomen.

Parting from your bruised neck, Matt leans his masked forehead against yours, heavy breaths mingling as he takes in the state of your body. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and the smell of your arousal is so thick he can taste it with every inhale.

Shucking you up further into his arms, he hooks one of your knees over his elbow, then the other, essentially folding you in half again the wall, before he’s pressing the hot tip of him against your soaking, clenching hole.

The incessant itch burning hot under his skin hasn’t been soothed during his brief time out tonight, and since you want it so badly, he’s going to use you to scratch it.

“Say stop and I will” is the last thing he says before he’s kissing you again, and shoving the whole length cock into your waiting cunt in one fluid movement, not stopping till he’s buried in you to the hilt.

The sudden stinging stretch of him makes you cry out, head falling back and hitting the wall behind you as your eyes roll back, unable to keep up with kissing him as you feel the thick cock filling you up completely, like he’s all the way in your stomach.

Not even giving you a chance to adjust, Matt’s moving, hips driving into you with punishing thrusts against your g-spot with devastating accuracy and all you can do is hold on to his broad shoulders.

“Fuck” Matt groans, “so wet for me, taking my cock so well, like you were made for me pretty girl” he huffs out around ragged breaths.

The leather scrapes against your bare, sensitive skin with every roll of his hips, his words making you clench around him even tighter and the sounds spilling out of your mouth are uncontrollable.

High, staccato moans are punched out of you with every brutal thrust, and you’re coming on his cock with a loud cry of his name before you can even comprehend it.

“Christ baby, already?” Matt grunts out, patronization in his tone again and it just makes you even wetter as he fucks you through it, never stopping the movement of his hips for even a second as you orgasm, your come dripping down his balls, onto the suit trousers bunched around his upper thighs.

Never one to miss a single thing about the way your body reacted to him, he growls out “oh you like it when I’m mean do you?” but he doesn’t give you a chance to answer because he already knows you do, he can feel the way you’re choking his cock every time he speaks.

“Such a whore for Daredevil’s cock aren’t you?” He continues in that deep taunting voice, the words rough from how hard he’s fucking into you.

The keening sound that leaves your mouth makes him somehow start moving with even more vigour, until you’re suddenly pulled away from the wall. Your brainless body only just managing to hold his shoulders before you fall backwards, a whine leaving your lips as he pulls out.

Matt wouldn’t let that happen though, and he’s quick to lean back a bit so you fall forward into his chest, before he’s walking you both over to the sofa.

Dropping you onto the seat with a little bounce, you’re look up at Daredevil stood over you, at the heaving of his chest under the leather, further down until your eyes land on his throbbing, flushed, painfully erect, leaking cock sticking out of his undone trousers.

“On your knees” Matt rasps, “lean over the back of the couch.”

Once you’re in position, calloused hands adjust you, gripping the flesh of your ass before running up the length of your spine to make you arch your back into him beautifully as your hands grip the material of the sofa tightly in anticipation.

“So perfect, fuck” he mutters out, more to himself than you, gliding his spread hands up and down your back a few times before squeezing your ass again.

The sudden echoing sound of the slap Matt lays on your ass has you letting out a startled yelp as you feel the heat of it, just hard enough to be on the right side of pain, and you let out a whorish moan as he soothes the sting with his palm.

“Dirty girl” he purrs when he hears how your cunt contracts at his actions, turning you on even more.

Pressing down on the base with his thumb, he guides his cock back to your soaking core that was fluttering in disapproval of no longer being filled, and sinks into you again in one smooth movement, his hips meeting your ass.

This angle has him even deeper inside you, and you let out a gasping moan as you hide your face in the sofa at the intensity, teeth biting the fabric as you feel him pressed right up against your cervix, barely managing to get in a breath before he’s moving again.

Matt sets a punishing, fast pace, pounding into you so hard your ass ripples with every slap of his hips, and the loud, unguarded, wanton sounds you make when he angles his hips up just so makes him throb inside your clenching walls. He spanks your ass again hard enough for it to hurt but in the best way, making you let out a squeal as he times it with the harsh inward thrust.

You can’t see the feral grin that takes over his face at the sound.

The way you’re squeezing him tells him you’re getting close again already, abusing that spot deep in you with his cock with every thrust, and he pulls your body up into him, your back to his chest, letting you feel the rough suit against your sweaty, flushed skin.

One burly arm wraps around your stomach, holding you tightly as the other hand curls around and up your front, till he’s pressing his index, middle finger and thumb into your frantic pulse, squeezing ever so slightly, and even harder still when you moan out at the feeling. The hands that clawed at the sofa were now clawing at the leather on his arms, moon shaped indents in the red from your nails.

“You like it when I choke you pretty girl?” He rasps heavily in your ear, his masked face coming down to press kisses against your jaw, “you’d let me do whatever I wanted to you right now, wouldn’t you?”

As you open your mouth to attempt to answer, Matt pushes the air out of your lungs with a well timed, brutal thrust, rendering you speechless as you eyes roll back into your skull, feeling another orgasm creeping up on you.

“Can’t even talk angel?” he taunts, “that drunk on my cock huh? Fucked your pretty brain dumb?”

All you can do is whine and moan, your cunt fluttering around his cock at his words because he’s not wrong. You can’t form a single thought right now other than him as he assaults your sweet spot.

“God you feel so fucking good” he moans deeply, feeling his own end approaching as your cunt contracts around him even more, “gonna be my good girl and come all over my cock yeah?”

Only managing a desperate nod, his rumbling words tip you over the edge as you come with a loud cry, your body tensing up as the strongest orgasm you’ve ever felt runs through you. Even though you can’t imagine feeling any better, just at the peak of your orgasm, Matt lessens the pressure on the arteries in your neck and the blood rushing back to your brain makes the pleasure even more intense.

He doesn’t stop.

Matt’s pace is unrelenting, still driving into that same spot that has you keening as your orgasm turns into over sensitivity, and your hand goes around behind yourself to push against his abdomen, trying relieve some of the pressure from how deep he is inside you.

“‘S too much” you manage to whine out, eyes rolling back as you loll your head against his shoulder from the intense pleasure.

“Ah, ah you can take it baby, yeah? Be my good girl?” He says in that condescending voice again, but this time it’s breathless and gravelly from the exertion of his intense fucking. He even pulls you tighter against him, his hand staying on your throat to feel another whine that you let out.

Somehow, you feel that deep pressure building again, and before you know it, you’re thrown into a second orgasm only a few minutes after your first, and this time all you can do is open your mouth in a silent scream, the onslaught of pleasure dizzying.

“Matt!” You sob, as he fucks you through this orgasm too then past it, and he moans breathless in your ear as you get impossibly wetter, tighter around him.

Unable to stop it, Matt also lets out a deep, prologued groan and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, as he comes too. The force behind his thrusts increases ever so slightly as he fills you, till it’s dripping down between you, down your legs, his balls, onto his suit and the sofa beneath you.

Letting out slightly higher pitched moans with every thrust as he fucks himself well past the point of over sensitivity as well, till he’s letting out rough growls every time he bottoms out inside you. He still doesn’t stop.

He can’t stop.

Even though you’re squeezing the life out of his cock, he doesn’t slow down for even a second. He doesn’t even change the angle, just keeps pounding into you with a deadly, incessant precision. The lewd wet sounds from Matt fucking his own come into you are filling the room along, along with both of your moans.

There’s no thoughts in your head anymore, and there’s just endless babbles of ‘Matt’ spilling out your mouth uncontrollably as he fucks you within an inch of your life, but god you don’t want him to stop.

You’ve never, ever been fucked like this, and as the familiar heat starts to build up again, you think you might actually pass out this time.

“Fuck” Matt grunts, feeling and hearing the telltale signs yet again, “come with me angel, gonna- fuck- gonna come so fucking deep inside you.”

A particularly hard thrust tips you over the edge, and you’re coming on his cock for the third time. This time, you do scream. The most raw, broken cry leaves your lips and it’s the best thing Matt’s ever heard.

The way your cunt locks up around his cock has Matt speeding up even more before he’s coming with you. A deep, guttural groan coming from his lips against the skin of the crook of your neck as he fucks you both through the haze, filling you up with his hot come again.

Slowly, his hips eventually come to a stop as his pleasure fades.

Shifting when he feels you completely sag against him once your muscles relax again, he wraps both arms tightly around your middle, holding you close as you both catch your breath, pressing soft kisses of apology to your neck of and shoulder where he’d bitten and marked you.

“I love you” he whispers into your skin, listening to your pulse slow down in the afterglow.

You hum quietly in contentment, the returning words mumbled beyond comprehension, voice weak from your loud moaning. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes again yet.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you have just enough awareness left to tell him you are so he doesn’t start his guilt spiral and the man relaxes a little behind you, mildly appeased that he wasn’t too rough with you.

Gently, Matt removes his softening cock from your used cunt, making you whimper at the movement but he’s quick to comfort you.

“Shh, shh I’m sorry, I know baby” he coos, before he’s moving to scoop you up bridal style, and is bringing you to his soft bed.

After setting you down with the upmost care, Matt goes to the bathroom to clean up a bit, mask discarded carelessly on the floor with a thud as he slips it off his sweaty face.

Discarding the rest of the suit as he went, letting his flushed, damp skin finally breathe, he cleans himself up then brings a fresh, warm washcloth back to the bed. He gently parts your legs and coos again in apology as you whimper slightly as he very carefully cleans his come from your swollen skin as best he can without hurting you.

After putting the cloth in the laundry basket, Matt decides he’ll worry about the sheets tomorrow, and crawls into bed with you, equally as naked now, pulling you to him so your head is resting on his chest. You curl into his warmth straight away, already feeling sleep tugging at your consciousness from how intensely you’d been fucked.

“You did so good for me baby” he breathes against your hair, holding you against him tightly, “I love you so much.”

All you can manage is a sated little hum, nuzzling into his bare chest even further.

Matt holds you close against him, and listens to the steady rhythm of your heart as you fall asleep, entirely fucked out to stay conscious anymore, and it quickly pulls him under too.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII

As always, thank you so much everyone for reading and your continued support for this story, I’m so glad people are enjoying it <3 I posted this chapter a day early because it’s my favourite and I couldn’t wait whoops.

I can’t believe there’s only one more chapter left after this and honestly I’m still working on it because I’m not quite happy with it, ending stuff is hard T-T Feedback and comments are always welcome <3

This fic has been cross posted on AO3 • Masterlist