HAPPY SLEEPOVER!! If you’ve still got a marvel slot available, may I request some fluffiness for Matt Murdock with the prompt: “Do you want me to carry you?”
ohohohohohohhhhhhoooooo kay is in a fluffy mood let’s GO thank you bby 💕
🔥friday night fever!🔥
Matt Murdock is a lullaby all his own. It didn’t take you long to figure out that the best place to fall asleep isn’t your own bed anymore, but his arms, no matter where you are. Tucked under his shoulder on the subway, sprawled on your bed with your head on his chest, curled up on his couch. The steady beat of his heart is the sound of dreamland now, the gentle thump-thump the only thing that can lull you to sleep with ease.
Couple that with the scent of him, warm and musky, invading your senses. It comes stronger when he adjusts himself beneath you, slotting a leg between your knees or pulling you higher up his body so your head can fit into the crook of his neck. The scent lingers on your clothes even when you’re not with him, and you’re sure to steal a t-shirt or sweater from his apartment each time you leave, returning them only after you’ve slept in them multiple nights and the smell has faded almost completely. He notices — of course he does — and it’s a rare occasion that he doesn’t show up at your apartment on the weekend without a few extra layers, ‘forgetting’ one or two when he leaves the next morning.
Then there’s the feel of him. And not just the ridges of muscle and the softness in those strong hands. His body is a marvel all it’s own, and you’ve dozed off tracing his scars more than once, thumb caught in the dip along his hip or side or chest. No, it’s more than that. It’s the…aura he carries with him, that all-encompassing feeling of being safe, of knowing that no matter what happens, he’ll protect you.
Even before you know what he does in the dark, it feels like that. The first time you fall asleep in front of him is your second date, and you blame it on that feeling, the security and comfort you feel around Matt Murdock. He laughs and brushes off your mumbled apologies. “You held onto me pretty tight. I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”
He kissed your cheek when he heard the rush of blood to your face, the flush that heated your skin.
But nothing compares to Matt’s voice.
The first time you met, you already knew it was your favourite sound. That occasionally low rasp, the way it climbed with passion when he wanted to prove a point, the soft whispers when he roused you in the morning. The way it felt growled against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He’s articulate without being condescending, and you could listen to him talk forever.
In the early days of your relationship, you spend hours on the phone with him, talking about anything and everything, refusing to be the one who hangs up first, just so you can hear his soft goodnight, sweetheart one more time. You beg him to send you voice notes throughout the day, saving the best ones to listen to before bed when you can’t have him at your side.
Tonight, you’re tired. Bone-tired, the weight of the week behind you too much to bear. It’s Friday, you know you should be out at the bar, cavorting the night away before work starts again Monday, but you can’t find it in you, opting for a bottle of wine and a good book for each of you, cuddled up on Matt’s couch, the leather warm beneath you, your legs covered by a soft blanket. Matt’s braille copy of Stardust is balanced on the arm as he moves his fingers over the pages.
Your glass of wine is long empty, and you lie on your side, your head in his lap, his free hand carding through your hair as he reads aloud. “The silver chain was now nothing but smoke and vapour. For a heartbeat it hung on the air, then a sharp gust of wind and rain blew it out into nothing at all.”
He keeps reading, you’re sure, but your eyes have been closed a while now, there’s the gentle drag of his nails against your scalp, combined with the sound of his voice, the headiness lingering from the wine, and the warmth of his body. You’re a goner.
“Mmm,” you groan happily, interrupting his reading and you can hear the smile in his voice as he continues. Your brain shuts off, no longer interested in the story, much more intrigued by the idea of sleep and Matt and cuddles and warmth.
“Sweetheart?” he calls, his voice a little too loud. Some time has passed, you know, because when you open your eyes, the sky outside the living room window is pitch-black (save for the too-bright billboard of course) and the candle you’d been burning has been reduced to nothing, the wick giving off smoke instead of flame. “Honey, let’s go to bed.”
“Nuh-huh,” you groan, trying to burrow deeper into his lap, turning onto your side so your face is pressed to his stomach. “Don’t wanna move.”
“Do you want me to carry you?” he asks, and you make a questioning noise, starting to move, but before you can, he’s pulling you gently upright and into his lap. You wrap yourself around him, pushing your face into his neck as he stands, both hands under your ass and holding you aloft in his arms. Your legs automatically wind around his waist, ankles locking together, and he kisses your temple as he starts to walk through the apartment towards the bedroom. Forehead against his throat, you lift your jaw, returning his kiss, pressing yours against his pulse.
He sets you gently on the bed, your eyes slipping completely shut once more as he pulls the sheets back and tucks you under them. You feel him slide in beside you, and you gravitate towards him automatically, your head finding it’s rightful place on his chest, one leg hooked around his knee.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he hums, mouth against the crown of your head.
If he says anything else, you don’t hear it, falling deeply into dreamland, lulled to sleep by the lullaby that is Matt Murdock.
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I have a taglist! if you’d like to be tagged in future works, please fill out this form!💕
39 and 40! ("It's not my fault you keep turning me on" & "you look so good with my hands wrapped around your neck")
w either frank or matt maybe 👀 -🐹
okay nonnie….you…I….I MAKE NO APOLOGIES FOR THIS ONE.
you said frank OR matt and my feral fucking brain said NOPE BOTH and I love the prompts but “you look so good” doesn’t fit with our darling matt murdock exactly sooooooo here we go
absolute FILTH under the cut (threesome, dp, fingering, the whole big show — or most of it at least, i regret NOTHING)
((also - tagging all my matt AND frank babies under the cut, but heed the above and DNI if it’s not your thing - FAIR WARNING))
🔥friday night fever!🔥
How is it possible for something to feel like far too much and not nearly enough, all at once?
You knew what you were getting into, agreeing to this. You’d had days to mull it over, both of them telling you more than once that there was absolutely no pressure, that the decision was completely up to you. The notion was far too appealing to pass up, and you’d be lying if you said the thought hadn’t crossed your mind once before, a lavish daydream to indulge in when the man himself wasn’t around to satisfy you.
It had shocked you, in truth, when the idea was first proposed. Matt has always had a bit of a possessive streak in him, so hearing that he was on board with it, that he was willing to share you, just for the night, it sent your pulse racing. Afterwards, after Frank had left and it was just the two of you alone in the apartment, he’d sidled closer to you on the couch, lips close to your ear and hand curling around your thigh.
“Think it over, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing the soft spot beneath your ear, making your thighs clench together, desperate to relieve the pressure you could already feel building. “I can tell what’s it’s doing to you, how excited you are. It’s okay. I don’t mind sharing, letting him pleasure you, too. Just this once.” He smirked against your skin. “This is about you, and Castle…knows what he’s doing. I trust him.” A gentle nip at your pulse. “I trust you.”
And so you had, you thought it over. You thought long and hard about it, what it meant, the boundaries you wanted set, every single thing you would and wouldn’t agree to. Matt knew your limits, had probably discussed them with Frank before they even mentioned this to you, but still, you wanted to be clear. You didn’t want any lines crossed.
Like Matt said, just this once.
Your only worry, is that once wouldn’t be enough. For any of you.
Frank Castle is the polar opposite of Matthew Murdock, in every sense of the word. Brash where Matt is methodical, broody where Matt is amiable, violent where Matt is…less violent. You knew the stories, the details of what Daredevil and the Punisher had gone through, the blood that had been spilled and the revenge that had been sought. You knew tidbits of Frank Castle’s past, enough to make your heart ache for the man, what he’d been through, what he’d seen. Things no person should be made to endure. And he’s friendly, surprisingly so, easy to talk to and easier to joke with, poking fun at Matt as the two of you ate dinner at that Italian place down on 42rd Street, bottles of wine emptying faster than usual, conversation going well into the night, until the waiter had to gently remind you that the kitchen was closing and the dining room would soon follow.
“Quite the lady you have here, Red,” Frank had said, grinning wide at you as you walked out of the restaurant, you tucked under Matt’s arm, the three of you hiding from the rain under the restaurant’s awning. “You’re a lucky man.”
“The luckiest,” Matt had agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It was good to see you, Castle.”
“You too, Red,” Frank replied, reaching for your hand, lifting it to his mouth and kissing your knuckles. He jutted his chin towards Matt. “Take care of this one, will ya, doll? He’s a special guy.”
You watched him walk away, watched the back of Frank disappear into the rainy New York night, and Matt had just chuckled. “He’s good looking, isn’t he?”
“What?” you’d sputtered, the wine and embarrassment making your face heat, turning on your heel and starting in the direction of Matt’s apartment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your heartbeat tells me all I need to know, sweetheart,” he said, catching up to you easily, threading his arm through yours. “It’s okay, honest. Foggy always said I had a knack for attracting pretty girls, maybe it works both ways.”
He hadn’t said anything more, though you’d rethought the conversation for weeks. Weeks of mulling over your interaction with Frank, the gentleness so clearly hidden behind a menacing exterior, the easy way in which he and Matt spoke, the obvious bond between them.
And then, a proposition.
The proposition.
You’re still worried, that once won’t be enough. You said as much, in the same breath that you’d agreed to their idea. Frank’s smile had widened, and Matt had adjusted himself in his seat, throat bobbing as he said, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”
There had been a brief conversation about scheduling another night, blocking off a Friday night where you could have dinner again, drink your fill and get comfortable, but something had stopped you. Looking at the two of them, opposites but not, feeling the magnetic pull that dragged you towards both of them, your heart forever belonging to Matt but your body begging, if only this once, to belong to Frank. Your hands gripped the couch cushion furiously, nails biting into the fabric as you stared between them, each sat in a chair, Frank sprawled wide with his arms out, Matt hunched forward, hands folded in front of him.
“What about tonight?”
Frank had looked at Matt, Matt’s brow had raised ever so slowly, and that was that.
You’re not quite sure who decided on the shower, or when the button was pressed that brought them both to life, but it’s overwhelming in the best kind of way. The water is hot, pounding down onto your bodies, steam swirling through the bathroom.
One minute you were standing in the living room, toying with your hands, sure of your devious but unsure where to start, and the next you were in the bathroom, the tiles cold beneath your feet. Matt stood behind you, mouth pressed against your neck, dragging kisses along your skin while Frank stood in front of you, just watching, the muscle in his jaw ticking as Matt slowly undid the zipper on your dress.
Heat rose in your face as Matt pulled at the collar of your dress, nudging it down your front, unhooking your bra at the same time, pushing all the fabric away, towards your hips. Frank was stoic, silent, giving nothing away as he watched. You could feel Matt’s body behind you, the tell-tale hardness prodding at your backside. His hands roved your body as they always did, like no one was watching. There was something in Frank’s gaze, something curious, and you realized he was watching Matt’s hands, watching where he touched and how he did so, cataloguing your body and tracing your outline.
You’d hissed when Matt’s hand cupped your breast, thumb swiping over your nipple and squeezing lightly. At the same time, his hips rolled into your ass, cock straining against his zipper. “Matt.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he crooned in your ear, “it’s not my fault you keep turning me on.” He nipped at your earlobe. “You always do.”
It was more of a blur as both men undressed, the bathroom floor soon more fabric than tile, and while Matt walked you backwards into the shower, the water turned hot and soaking you instantly, Frank moved slower. He prowled towards you, eyes raking over your body. He stepped under the spray with you and Matt, water dripping down his broad chest, running in rivulets down his torso and legs. You were rapt, not sure where to look, your heart skipping at Matt’s attention behind you, his hands still roaming your body, and Frank’s lust-blown stare, dark eyes pinning you in place like a predator stalking it’s prey. You let your eyes drop, the heat in your face almost unbearable.
And here you are.
He closes the distance between you, one hand reaching for yours, threading your fingers together, while the other notches under your chin, lifting your gaze to his face. “Can I kiss ya, princess?” he drawls, his eyes scanning your face, lingering on your lips. Your mouth parts softly, and Frank’s eyes move over your shoulder. “That okay with you, Red?”
“Only if she says yes,” Matt says, punctuating his answer with a sharp spank to your ass, face buried in your neck. “This is about her.”
“We’re on the same page, then,” Frank agrees, and his eyes slide back to you. “Whatta ya say, pretty girl?”
You nod once, your eyes growing heavy-lidded as Matt’s hand slides between your legs from behind, fingers glancing along your inner thighs, pushing your legs a little wider to give him better access to your pussy. Frank leans forward, hand still under your chin, and you gasp into his mouth as he kisses you, Matt’s mouth sucking at your shoulders, fingers sliding into you. The sound of the shower seems thunderous, your ears nearly ringing as Frank kisses you.
It’s jarring, how different it is to kissing Matt. Harsher, in a way, which fits completely, more teeth and tongue, the fingers knocked beneath your chin turning very quickly into his hand around your throat, middle finger and thumb either side of your windpipe. Matt’s fingers brush against that devastating spot inside you, and coupled with Frank squeezing your neck lightly, your legs are shaking. You can feel yourself rushing towards that cliff, nearly dangling off of it, but you don’t want to, not just yet. This can’t be over this fast.
Frank pulls back, eyes on your face again, and the grin on his lips is feral, licking the taste of your mouth off his own. His hand doesn’t move from your throat, fingers twitching against your pulse. “Oh, you like this, don’t you?” he asks, squeezing again until you gasp, nodding sharply in his grasp. “God damn, you look so good with my hand wrapped around your neck.”
You reach behind you, turning your head to the side as Frank leans in again. His mouth drags along your jaw, and you push at Matt’s arm. He leans in to kiss your cheek as Frank’s attention moves to your neck, your collar. “What is it, sweetheart?”
“I need your cock, Matt,” you tell him, your voice nearly a whine. Frank’s fingers flex on your throat. “Please.”
“Okay, baby,” he replies, hands running down your sides, grabbing a handful of your ass as he takes his hard cock in hand, positioning himself between your legs from behind. Frank turns your head, putting your eyes on his face again, and you gasp as you feel the tip of Matt’s cock press against your entrance.
Frank’s just watching you, his gaze boring into yours, and you barely have time to react as he reaches for your other hand, pulling it down towards his cock. You let your eyes dip as your fingers wrap around him, sucking in a breath at the sight of his length. He’s got girth, not as long as Matt, but fuck, if that’s not the thickest cock you’ve ever seen. Refusing to shy away from a challenge, you pump him, the movement dragging your bodies closer together as Matt thrusts in all the way, sheathing himself inside you with a low groan.
“How’s she feel, Red?” Frank asks, his eyes still glued to your face. Your mouth drops open as Matt starts to move, hips slapping wetly against your ass, hands gripping your hips like his life depends on it.
“So good, Castle,” Matt replies, his voice high and breathless. You can feel his head pressed against your spine, his hold on your waist tightening. “You have no fucking idea. So wet.” He thrusts hard, the movement jarring you forward, but Frank holds you in place. “God, you’re squeezing me so tight, baby.”
Every breath you take sounds like a moan, and Frank’s feral grin returns, a groan stuttering past his lips as you squeeze him. “Gotta say, it’s quite the view, watching you make her fall apart like this. You know what you’re doing, Red.” You bring your hand up, twisting your wrist and curving your palm over the tip of him. “Fuck, so does she.”
Matt’s head lifts from your back, and he pulls you back onto his cock, your knees nearly buckling as the tip of his cock finds that immaculate spot inside you, the pleasure nearly making your eyes roll back.
“Oh, she liked that, Red,” Frank says. “Do it again.”
Matt does, another wet slap echoing through the bathroom, and the sound that falls out of you is somewhere between a moan and a squeal, your legs going tense as white-hot pleasure shoots down your limbs. Frank crowds closer to you, still gripping your throat, and you’re stuck watching as he brings his free hand to his mouth, pushing two fingers past his lips.
“Eyes on me, princess,” he tells you, hand disappearing from view. “Keep stroking my cock like a good girl, yeah?” You do as he says, curving your palm over his sensitive tip again, lips quirking in a grin when he groans. “Yeah, you’re a good girl.” He moves impossibly closer, just enough room between your bodies for your hand around his cock, and his, moving between your legs, right where you’re split around Matt’s cock. He drags his fingers along your hot skin, and he must touch Matt too, because you hear his harsh gasp behind you, the next thrust he gives you impossibly harder.
“Make her cum, Castle,” Matt rasps out, leaning his forehead on your shoulder, his pace unrelenting. “Rub her clit until she screams.”
Frank grins. “Don’t have to tell me twice, Red.”
You let out a high-pitched gasp as Frank’s thick fingers find your clit, rubbing a harsh circle that has your toes curling against the tile. You try to keep up your strokes, your grip tight on Frank’s cock, but it’s almost impossible to concentrate, your mind hurtling elsewhere as your body tries to comprehend the sensations, the thick press of Matt into your pussy, the targeted pleasure of Frank’s fingers on your clit.
“Hey, I said, eyes on me,” Frank commands, and you hadn’t realized you let them flutter shut, your throat hiccuping in his grip as the pleasure climbs. You reach your free hand back, curling around Matt’s hip, squeezing until your nails dig in. You have to release Frank’s cock, but he doesn’t seem to mind, his own touch growing more and more insistent, the slide of his thick fingers curling down until he’s inside you too, knuckles brushing Matt’s cock while his thumb circles your clit. “C’mon, pretty girl, you gonna cum?” he asks, squeezing your windpipe just enough.
That���s what makes you topple over the edge, the sheer intensity of the feeling, the instant weightlessness that pours over you like a tidal wave. You’ve never felt anything like this before, and you try to keep your eyes on Frank’s, you really do, but it’s no use. The pleasure wracks your body, leaving you twitching and keening in their arms. Matt’s not far behind you, cumming with a shout that’s barely muffled against your shoulder. Frank seems unfazed, keeping his fingers right where they are, and as you return to your body, you don’t miss the way his eyes glance at Matt, still lust-blown and curious.
Matt pulls out first, leaning back against the shower wall, and Frank follows a moment later, but pushes his fingers deeper first, dragging the pads along that same spot Matt had hammered into. When he pulls them from you, his skin is coated with your cum and Matt’s, the milky fluid running between his knuckles.
You grab his wrist, opening your mouth as you push his fingers past your teeth, sucking them clean, flickering your tongue over his skin. Frank just grins. “Fuck. Tell me what you want, pretty girl. You gonna take us both next?” He releases your throat, reaching around and giving your ass a quick slap. “Gonna let me in this tight ass while Red fucks your pussy again? Huh? What do you want?”
You’re heaving breaths as he pulls his fingers from your mouth, and Matt is pressed against your back a moment later, arms twining around your waist, kissing your neck again. “Tell us what you want, sweetheart,” he whispers.
You blink hard, sinking into Matt’s touch, reaching for Frank’s wrist and moving his hand back between your legs.
“More.”
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