#nmcu daredevil

He was more than pissed, especially when he could guess what you’d been doing before you left based on the scent of your arousal lingering in the air. He followed it to his bedroom, where he ran a hand across his bed, feeling the rumpled sheets beneath his fingers. Cursing his misfortune, and wanting you back here, in his bed, Matt let out a frustrated snarl and left the room. He could hardly focus when all he could think about, smell, and practically taste all around him, was you.

Out in the kitchen, he was practically wearing a divot into the floorboards as he paced back-and-forth, hands resting on his hips, head tilted back, as he counted each second that passed. One minute turned to two, then five, and Matt’s agitation grew with each tick of the clock. He’d tried calling twice but you hadn’t picked up.

He slammed his hands on the counter, delighting a little in the pain that jarred his wrists because, for a moment, it took his mind off you. Loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt halfway, because it was suddenly too warm in his apartment, he stalked across the room and dropped onto the couch, legs spread wide as he leaned back against the cushions. 

With his head tilted to the ceiling, eyes closed, he tried to calm himself down. It was ridiculous, the way he was acting, but it was always hard to think clearly when it came to you. He’d never known desire the way he felt it with you, like he’d never get enough. Never imagined his resolve could crumble so quickly under the slightest touch of your hand or brush of your lips. And he was so wickedly selfish about it, wanting you all to himself; in his apartment, in his bed, under him. 

“Fuck’s sake,” he hissed through gritted teeth. His cock was straining so hard against the zipper of his pants that it had actually reached the point of being painful. Fiddling with the buckle of his belt, he lifted his hips a little so he could yank the strip of leather from the loops, letting it drop to the ground with a clatter.

It was then that he heard you. The stomp of your boots against the stairs, the thundering of your heart, and the curses you muttered under your breath.

"I swear to God, if he isn't in that fucking apartment."

Oh? The jingle of your keys set him into motion and he was at the door before you even had a chance to unlock it. Swinging it open, his hands found your waist and tugged you inside, slamming the door and pressing you up against it. 

"Matty, please," was all you could get out before he pounced. His lips were instantly on your neck, kissing, sucking, biting, and he was rutting his hips pathetically against yours. You whimpered, fingers in his hair, tugging at the root, as you arched into him, silently begging him to take, take, take.

"I could smell you," he moaned against your neck as you reached down to palm him through his pants. "So desperate. So riled. But you were gone."

You spun him around, tugging him toward the living room, his lips still trailing over your skin. Pushing him onto the couch, you knelt before him, fingers fumbling with the zipper on his pants.

"I went looking for you," you admitted, tugging his fly open and reaching into his boxers. His cock was achingly hard, practically throbbing in your hand, and the head was coated in a smear of pre-cum. 

"I tried so hard, Matty. To hold off until you got home. But I couldn't." You pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock, down the shaft, pumping him a few times. Matt was already halfway to falling apart, chest heaving, head tilted to the ceiling, muttering an endless mantra of 'oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.'

"And then I couldn't make myself cum. Didn't feel as good on my own. No one does it like you, Matty." 

Flattening your tongue against the base, you dragged it all the way upwards, circling the tip until Matt was bucking his hips, hands white-knuckled as he gripped the couch cushions.

"But when I got to the office, you weren't fucking there-"

"Please, Angel. Stop teasing."

Matt let out a guttural groan as you finally, finally, took his cock into your mouth. Taking it as deep as you could, until the dark curls at the base tickled your nose, and you swallowed around him then pulled back to take a breath.

Matt's hand flew to the back of your head, gripping your hair, as he grunted your name over and over, slowly losing his mind over the warmth of your mouth on his cock.  Bobbing your head, you worked whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth with your hand. Glancing up at Matt, the wave of power that rushed through you was intoxicating. Here he was, stern lawyer Matt Murdock, skilled vigilante, Daredevil; falling to pieces, a whimpering, moaning mess coming apart on your tongue.

His cock hit the back of your throat again, but then you were pulled away, Matt’s grip on your hair tightening.

“Get up here,” he growled. Matt moved out of the way so you could lay down, then climbed on top of you, caging you in. He tore at your blouse, not caring that he sent the buttons flying, he just needed you naked. Needed to feel your skin pebbled with goosebumps under his fingertips. 

“Lift your skirt, sweetheart,” he whispered, warm breath caressing the shell of your ear. You did as you were told, shimmying the fabric up your thighs until it was bunched around your middle. Bare to him now, thighs still sticky from when you’d try to get yourself off, Matt inhaled deeply and let out a low snarl.

“No underwear? Naughty.”

“Shut up, Murdock.” Grabbing his tie, you pulled him down to kiss you. Matt’s lips were soft against your own, slotting together like puzzle pieces, and he swallowed your moans as he slipped his fingers between your legs. 

“So wet for me,” he murmured, more to himself than you, and dipped two fingers inside you, testing the waters, placing his thumb against your clit. If there was one thing Matt loved more than anything in the world, it was the way you reacted to him; the little noises you made, the ones that got caught in your throat when he’d go down on you, or the way your heart would start to race if he wore button-ups with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, or when he’d ask you to help him get ready for work and your fingers would linger a little too long on his tie or his belt. On those days, it was almost impossible for him to think straight, especially when all he wanted to do was take you over his knee and spank you, or shove his fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet as he fucked you against the wall. Getting out the door and going to work was the hardest thing in the world.

“Matthew,” you groaned, pushing your hips up against his hand.

“Hm?” 

“I’m so close, keep going.”

Matt hadn’t even realised, but while he’d been lost in his thoughts, he’d been pumping his fingers inside you, drawing tight circles on your clit with his thumb. And now, your walls were fluttering around his fingers, your hips bucking, chasing the friction. At the last second, Matt pulled his fingers out and placed a quick slap on your clit. You shattered completely, crying out his name, thighs trapping Matt as you tried to press them together.

Matt didn’t even give you time to come down from your high, didn’t wait for the tremors to stop wracking your body, before positioning his cock at your entrance and sliding home in one brutal thrust that had you both moaning. Your head fell back against the armrest, leaving your neck exposed to Matt, and he wasted no time in peppering it with open-mouthed kisses, nipping at the hollow of your throat.

You raked your nails down his back, knowing there’d be red marks for him to remember you by, and grabbed at his ass, pulling him deeper as you rolled your hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. He’d started off slow, but the frustration that had been building within him all day had started to rear its head, and he couldn’t help but get rough. Pistoning into you, his hand snaked up to curl around your throat.

“This okay?”

“I can handle it, Matty,” you groaned, arching your back, chest pressed flush against his. “Take whatever you need. Whatever you want.”

“Oh, my angel,” he ran his thumb over the seam of your lips and you opened obediently for him. “You’re too good to me.” 

The couch creaked and groaned as Matt thrust into you, seeming to hit deeper and deeper every time. In true Matt fashion, what he took, he gave back. So while he wrung his pleasure from your trembling body, one hand around your throat, the other braced on the armrest to hold himself up, he gave you all he had. As each thrust pushed you closer to the edge, you lifted your legs a little and crossed your ankles, using your heels to drive Matt deeper. If that was even possible.

“Fuck, Matty, baby, fucking hell, right there,” you threaded your hands in his hair, pressing his forehead against yours, and squeezed your eyes shut. And Matt would’ve loved to be paying attention to every little whimper, squeak, and gasp that dripped from your lips, but the heavy thud of boots coming up the stairs drew his attention. Matt slowed, not wanting to take your orgasm away from you when you’d already had trouble getting there earlier, but the footsteps got closer. 

Then the scent hit him. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he growled, pulling his hand away from your throat and sliding it down to rub at your clit. He was desperate to make you cum before Frank came through the door, because Matt knew the bastard wouldn’t knock, but he wanted to take his time with you. You had at least three more orgasms in you before it became too much, and Matt wanted to pull them all from you; one with his cock, another with his fingers, and the final one with his tongue. But there wasn’t any time.

Reaching over, he felt along the coffee table for something, anything he could use to his advantage.

“Matt, what is it? Please don’t stop,” you whined, propping yourself up on your elbows, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. 

“It’s alright, darling, it’s alright,” his hand closed around an empty mug that you must’ve left there. It wasn’t much, but it’d do. “It’s okay, I won’t stop. I won’t. I’ve got you.”

The door creaked open, swinging wide and slamming against the wall. “Red! You here?”

You tilted your head back over the armrest, searching for the source of the voice. Was that who you thought it was? “Matt—”

He thrust into you again, so deep that it made you dizzy. “Don’t worry about him, I want you to cum for me.”

“But—”

“Do as you’re told,” he grunted, rolling his hips. Just as Frank was about to reach the end of the hall, Matt drew back his arm and pegged the mug across the room. You were writhing under him, close to frustrated tears, but you came with a cry of his name, shuddering hard. The mug hit the wall right near Frank’s face and he stumbled back into the hall to avoid the shower of porcelain shards.

“Get out of my fucking apartment, Castle!” You’d never heard Matt yell like that before; it sent a thrill through you. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to hold onto him as the aftershocks of your orgasm tore through your body. Each gasping breath you took, with Matt still chasing his own high, was like breathing in a shower of sparks. Your whole body was on fire, each of his thrusts left you jolting, trying to shift your hips away from the intensity of the skin-on-skin contact, but desperately wanting him to keep going.

“Matt, Matt, Matt” his name was a prayer from your lips. “It’s too much— I can’t—”

He pulled out instantly, despite reaching his peak. The warmth of his cum splattered across the plane of your stomach and he groaned out your name between great, heaving breaths. Then he collapsed, the full weight of him covered you, and you welcomed it. He was so warm, and so beautiful, and so yours when he was like this. For a moment, the two of you just laid there, spent, listening to each other breathe.

With his head resting on your chest, listening to your heart as it slowly returned to its normal rate, Matt let out a long, exhausted sigh as you stroked his hair.

“Are you gonna tell me why Frank was here?” If you hadn’t been so caught up in the throes of overstimulation when he’d come in, you probably would’ve been angrier that you’d been interrupted. But Matt had dealt with him and gotten him out before the moment was ruined, thank God, because if, after all that, Matt hadn’t gotten to cum… 

Well, you would’ve been tearing Frank a new one right about now.

“I don’t know, probably has information. He’s downstairs, out on the sidewalk, so it must be important, or he would’ve left.” Matt pushed himself up, lifting a hand to the mess smeared on his stomach. His mess. It was all over your torso, too. 

“Stay here, I’ll get you cleaned up.”

You couldn’t help but stare at Matt’s ass, at the red lines that marred the pale flesh, as he retreated to the bathroom to grab a washcloth. Once he returned, wiping the sticky substance off your skin with a tenderness that was the exact opposite to the roughness you’d just experienced, your lips lifted into a sleepy, blissed-out smile.

“I love you, Matty, so much,” you reached out to caress his cheek, despite the fact that your hands, your whole body, still shook. “But you need to get dressed and go down there and kick Frank’s ass for me.”

Matt huffed a laugh. “I thought you’d want to do the honours.”

Midnight struck Hell’s Kitchen, and for the third night in a row, Matt stood quietly in his loft, listening. The sound of your heart beating from the bedroom looped in the back of his mind, tucked away in the safe corner he always kept available for the people he loved. Frank's heartbeat met yours in rhythmic syncopation. The familiar sounds intertwined, leaving just enough room for Matt’s to rejoin. Matt didn’t remember making room for Frank in his safe corner, but how very typical of Frank to force his way in there anyway.  

Matt’s corner was feeling rather full, which was always a cause for concern. He struggled to make room for additions to his life when he already did so much to protect the people he loved. He so badly wanted to return to bed, crawl inbetween you and Frank, and let the heartbeats of the two most important people in his life lull him to sleep.  

Something was troubling him, though.  

Matt was beyond used to tuning out the little sounds that drove him crazy when he was a young boy. There were millions of people in New York. That many heartbeats ringing in one person's head would be enough to drive most people to madness, but Matt had quickly become accustomed to tuning the noise out. 

Chapter 1

You heard the door to your apartment open and the sound of Frank Castle’s heavy boots. You were waiting for him in bed, scrolling aimlessly through your phone to pass the time. But then you heard a second pair of boots… and another man’s voice. That made you pause and listen. Was that his friend Matt’s voice?

You flipped around to face the bedroom door just as Frank came through it. He was carrying a chair from the kitchen and he set it down against the wall.

Matt Murdock followed him into the room. He was wearing his full daredevil armor, minus the headpiece, which he must’ve just taken off when he entered your apartment. 

“What the hell is going on?” You made a lame attempt to cover yourself, since you were only wearing skimpy lingerie.

Your boyfriend, Frank, was unhelpfully cryptic, “You’ll know soon enough, sweetheart.”

“Wha- you were supposed to go get condoms, not your friend!?”

Matt just snickered.

Frank took a bunch of condoms out of his back pocket and tossed them on the bed next to you. “Call it two birds. One stone.”

He left the bedroom before you got a chance to question him again.

Matt’s beautiful, blind eyes saw nothing. But that didn’t mean that he saw nothing; you had no doubt that he could sense the heat on all your exposed skin and “see”  how near-naked you were. But then again, if Frank didn’t care, then… did you really care? 

You looked at Matt incredulously. “What the fuck is this? What is he doing?”

Matt shrugged, and it was just a bit too performative. “I have no idea.”

“Bullshit.”

Matt grinned in that sly way, basically a full admission that yes, that was bullshit.

Frank returned with another chair and set it down in the middle of the bedroom, at the foot of the bed.

“Frank, what are you-”

Your boyfriend pulled you out of bed, and sat you down in that chair, despite some of your half-assed resistance.

Matt, as if expecting this, sat in the first chair directly across from you.

“Okay, now this feels like a fucking intervention...” you complained.

Matt asked curiously, “What did you think it was originally?”

“Uh…honestly? My best guess was that you won a bet and wanted to make Frank a cuck.”

Matt laughed out loud at that.

Frank placed his hands on your shoulders. “Very funny, sweetheart. But you do want him, don’t you? Admit it.”

You felt heat rising to your face. The topic of Matt’s allure came up somewhat frequently between you two. Frank wasn’t jealous when it came to his friend ‘Red’, but he seemed to enjoy getting you all shy and worked up about admitting your attraction to the other vigilante.

You blushed. “...What the fuck is this?!” 

“This is my friend Red helping me ask you some questions.”

You looked at each of them, beyond puzzled. “Boss…” You captured Frank’s full attention with the term that you used for him in dom/sub contexts. ‘Boss’ was the only one that didn’t trigger anything from his past. “You don’t need your friend to ask me anything you want.” You tried to get up from the chair, but Frank easily pushed you back down.

“Ah-ah. Sit here. And look at Red for me, sweetheart.”

You crossed your arms poutily.

“Y/N…” Matt began like he was about to ask you a serious question in court.

“Matt…”

“Have you ever faked your orgasm with Frank?”

“....THAT’S what this is?”

“Answer him, sweetheart,” Frank commanded.

“This is fucking stupid. You realize how stupid this is?” Your skin was too hot. You knew that if you answered, Matt would listen to your heartbeat and discern if you were lying. You didn’t think you had ever faked it with Frank… even the first time with him was amazing. It was all amazing. But there were maybe times when you were tired or too deep in your head… fuck… you could vaguely recall a few of those times.

Frank complained, “Don’t try to beat around the bush.”

Matt waited patiently.

Aware that not answering was basically answering in the negative, you decided to just go for it. You scoffed.  “No. Of course not.”

Matt’s handsome smile was cryptic for a moment.  “You might be onto something, Frank; she’s lying.”

“I knew it!”

“What!?” you shouted at the same time. “No, I’m not- fuck you, Mattie! Boss, do you really believe him over me?”

“Sweetheart… baby, much as I want to take your word, you know Red can tell when people are lyin’.”

“Yeah, and how do we tell if Matt is lying?” You tried to deflect.

Matt just chuckled.

Frank reassured you, or tried to anyway. “I promise I’m not upset, sweetheart. I just want you satisfied.”

“I am satisfied,” you complained.

Frank glanced over at Matt for the ‘lie detector’ read out. 

You threw your hands up. “Really!”

Matt gave an intrigued little head tilt and said, “Hm. She told you the truth that time.”

Frank celebrated, “Oh thank fuck!”

“See!” you insisted, “Can we stop this weird interrogation now?” You tried to get up, but your boyfriend held you in place yet again.

He rubbed your shoulders while you pouted. “Relax. Just be a good girl and answer a few more questions.”

Matt asked, “How often do you fake an orgasm with him?”

“Never!”

“Honey, we already established that you’re lying about that,” Matt chided suavely. 

“Fuck. You.”

Frank scolded, “Watch your mouth, naughty girl, or I’ll have to stuff somethin’ in it.”

“Good! I’d much rather gag on your cock than have to answer these stupid questions.”

Matt chuckled. “She truthfully means that.”

“My little slut is always happy to get her mouth fucked,” Frank teased. 

You felt a dip in your stomach and your pussy clench at that talk. By Matt’s playful grin, you could tell that he could sense those internal clues of arousal.

“Y/N, your boyfriend obviously turns you on, so you have nothing to hide. Just tell me, how often do you fake it?”

You felt Frank’s eyes on you as you looked down at your lap. “Ugh, almost… never!”

“Is it true that you made a promise to Mr. Castle that you would never fake it?”

That one hit you like a sucker punch in the throat, so you stalled, “‘Mr. Castle? What are you gonna call him next? Your ‘client’?”

Matt smirked. “You’re clearly avoiding the question, Miss.”

You sighed exasperatedly. “Yes, I promised him I would never fake it.”

“And you broke this promise, yes?”

You squirmed in your chair. “No! Look, I’ve never faked it with him, okay? Maybe just a few times I… embellished the height of the pleasure a little, but that’s not the same thing.”

At that point, Frank interjected, “I wanna tell the difference, Red.”

Matt just cocked his head curiously.

“I wanna learn the difference between the real deal and the ‘embellishing’,” he explained as he gave you a teasing look.

“Well, I’m sorry old friend, but without my senses you’re unlikely to learn the difference if she’s unwilling to show you. Women can be very talented at faking orgasm, isn’t that right, honey?”

“Ugh, eat a dick, Matthew.”

Matt continued, “It’s not just the vocal acting, no, that part was easy to learn. There’s also the twitching, mastering the subtlety of it, so that it’s not comically overdone…”

Your heart raced.

“...and I’ll bet that she can even clench her pussy on your cock or your fingers voluntarily, in tight little contractions, to imitate the peak of her orgasm.”

You chewed your lip almost shamefully.

“Have you ever done any of that with me, naughty girl?” Your boyfriend asked you.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“Your non-answer is basically an answer, honey,” Matt teased.

“...No,” you answered.

“Lie,” Matt countered simply.

“Damn it!” Frank complained. “Red. Help me out.”

“Uh, how exactly?” Matt asked with a little mischief in his tone.

“Listen to her while I fuck her brains out and tell me if it’s the real deal or not.” Frank was already manhandling you onto the bed and yanking off his shirt.

Matt shrugged. “Okay.”

You were gobsmacked at his easy agreement. “Wait- We’re doing it with Matt watching!?”

“He’s blind, sweetheart. He can’t watch shit.”

Matt chuckled. “Fuck you, asshole.”

You rolled your eyes. “With Matt… hearing?!”

Matt said, “Don’t act like you’re not turned on by it, honey. I can tell you are.”

“Shut the fuck u-!”

Frank cut you off with an eager kiss. He leaned you back flat on the bed.

You moaned.

“This attitude of yours lately…” Frank bent your leg up so he could give your ass a hard smack.

“Oh!” you gasped.

“...makes me think you need to get fucked into the mattress.”

“Ohh yes!” His smack had sent you to a submissive bliss, dying to be used like a fuck toy, and you didn't give a fuck about Matt being right there anymore.

“Yeah? This what you need?” Frank pressed the growing bulge in his pants against your mound so you could feel how hard he was.