fear of god [Matt Murdock x F!Reader]

Sundays.

You're not sure when Matthews hand found it's place in your hair, but you're thankful for it anyway. His tender fingertips brush through it slowly, almost causing you to fall asleep. He's laying on his couch, you beside him with your head on his shoulder. The tv is on, playing some old 60's movie that's playing on the oldies channel.

Turning your head up towards Matthew, you sigh, "All I want to do is write but my head is empty."

He frowns a little but his smile is still present, "It's the Lords day. No work on the Lords day."

"Right." you groan, "Like you don't overwork yourself every single day. And night."

He laughs, this dazzling sweet smile and he slips his hand away to rest it on your cheek, "Remember what Foggy said?"

"Yeah. I know, 'keep a low profile'," you turn towards his hand, pressing a quick kiss to his palm, "I don't see you keeping a low profile."

He smirks as you play with his hand, pressing stray kisses here and there, "Well, I'm not suspected of anything. I'd say that's pretty low of a profile."

You roll your eyes, letting out a hum. "I just can't stand being inside anymore."

"Getting bored?"

"Yes."

"Why not write some of your novel?" He says sweetly.

You narrow your eyes at him, dropping his hand, "That's a sick fuckin' joke."

Matty throws his head back with a loud laugh, "Oh, come on."

"I'm never gonna finish that thing," you tell him, staring at his pursed lips, "it's cursed. Forget it."

"No, I still want to read it," he whines truthfully, hand dropping from your hair to your cheek. He can hear how you swallow dryly, shaking your head. "Oh- and I want you to sign it too so you still remember me when you're a New York Times Best Seller."

"Maybe I'll finish it in jail," you raise your eyebrows at him, stretching a hand over his stomach, "lots of time for self-improvement there, right?"

"I mean," Matt sucks in a breath and his shoulders tense, "if you're lucky enough to have a pen and paper in your cell, sure. I can make a deal for you."

A small smirk makes its way to your face and you squint your eyes at him, "You can just break in and get me, like, a typewriter or something. Right?"

"Why not a laptop?" He frowns.

"No powerpoints for prisoners," you point out, "or you could bust me out, give me a cool super-suit, an alias."

"Absolutely not," he smirks, lowering his voice sarcastically, "I work alone."

"You sound like me."

He hums, snuggling in closer to you when you press a hand to his warm cheek. Matthew smiles sweetly at your touch, settling in comfortably, "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, you know that, don't you?"

"I'd do anything for you too," you shrug, "I mean I don't have, like, any abilities but - you know, I'd do anything I could for you."

Matthew smiles softly, "That's all I could ever ask God for."

You frown a little, staring into his bright, pretty eyes before you're leaning forward to press a wet kiss to his neck. "Why are you so good to me?" You whisper against his warm skin, your nose brushing him.

He shudders out a breath, your name spills from his lips gently.

"Remember when we were just kinda... strangers?" You let out a little chuckle as you pull away with a smile, "We wanted nothing to do with each other. Now I... I can't believe I never saw how wonderful you are. It's like I never really looked properly."

"Come here," he tells you, giving your hip a squeeze and bringing you gently closer.

"Why?" You smirk jokingly.

"'Cause I need to kiss you now, I'm gonna kiss you, come here," Matthew leans in, the etchings of a smile on his face once more as you press your lips onto his. He plants a kiss onto your lips, slow and sweet, before his thumb rubs a little line on your cheek. "I don't ever wanna be a stranger to you again," he admits to you softly.

Shaking your head, you clench your jaw, "No? No matter what happens?"

His large hands push you back by your shoulders as he sits up. He runs a hand down your hip, past the curve of your lower back, and spreads one of your thighs to straddle his hips. "No," he mutters, "no matter what, I'm gonna protect you."

"Yeah?" You grin down at your handsome boy.

He grins back, white teeth dazzling, "Promise, sweetheart."

Letting out a hum, you press your hands to his chest as you kiss his soft lips. Matt's eyes are shut, losing himself in the warmth your body brings, on top of his and so close. He pulls back slightly, his lips only a brush away from yours, "Take your clothes off."

You look down at him, swallowing the dryness in your throat before whispering through a smile, "No work on the Lords day... isn't that what you said?"

Eyes still closed in blissful defeat, he squeezes your hips as he lets out a laugh. "Hm," he breathes out, shakily "yeah, you're right."

Pushing you back, Matthew switches your positions. He's on top of you now, breathing a little heavier. "Can I?"

You nod. His hands find their way to the bottom of your shirt and he tugs it up and off. Next, your pants. He discards your clothes to the side, like he discards every terrible feeling from your mind. His lips are so soft and gentle against your neck, your collarbone, your stomach, the waistband of your underwear.

"Matt," you call out as he presses a kiss over the top of your underwear.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Your..." you lick your lips, face suddenly hot, "Your clothes."

He grins, biting his bottom lip. He sits up, hands stretching outwards, inviting you to take his button up shirt off, "No work on the lords day, sweetheart."