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freshabogados · 3 years ago

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Matt's didn't melt into a puddle of goo. I DID.

"Promise?"

"Promise"

I think this will be the new "Okay? Okay"

Icha, did you write this with the intention of making me fall in love with Matt more than I already am? Because if you did, YOU'VE SUCCEEDED!

🎊 CONGRATULATIONS 🎊

perhaps love

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: 5 times Matt didn’t realize he was in love with you + 1 time he did.

Warning: none!

Note: this is me indulging myself in a fic after listening to one (1) song for months over and over until i’m slowly getting sick of it. enjoy!

Matt followed closely behind as you happily explored the ground beyond. He tilted his head over his shoulder nervously, silently listening to Foggy trail behind him, a little too slow for his liking. For once he was extremely grateful that his enhanced hearing gave him the upper ground.

“Matt! Foggy!” you hollered. Matt winced. Okay, maybe not that much. “I’m flying!”

“Holy fuck,” Foggy cursed underneath his breath. He slowly nudged him along to move faster. Matt rolled his eyes, at last. “What the hell are you doing? Get down!”

“What are they doing?” Matt asked warily. Having either one of his friends drunk always split into two possibilities; he never knew whether he was up for a laugh or a trip to the ER.

“Climbing the fucking flagpole,” Foggy grunted. He sounded both exasperated and amused, but his step was a little too slow from the drink he had earlier.

“Jesus.”

Keeping an eye on drunk you was one thing, but coaxing you to slowly climb down the flagpole was a whole another feast. Foggy yelled at you to climb down, which only earned him a snarky remark and a waterwork on your part. Matt was unable to hold back laughter after that, silently wondering what the hell did they put in the punch bowl back at the house party.

“Just climb down, please,” Foggy said exasperatedly. “We’re too broke for a trip to the ER.”

Matt shook his head, smiling. “Do you want chicken nuggets?” he hollered at you.

That seemed to catch your attention. You sniffed loudly, spreading and contaminating the air with your salty tears. “Chicken nuggets?”

“Yeah,” Matt said. “I have a lot of chicken nuggets back at my dorm. But you have to carefully climb down, okay?”

“Okay,” you sniffed again. “Promise?”

“Promise. Be careful.”

You hummed, slowly making a tentative step to climb down from the flagpole. Foggy hovered nearby on the left, so Matt took the right side. His heart hammered his ribcage painfully, the air suddenly felt stale and stagnant as you took a painstakingly slow pace to climb down the flagpole.

Matt heard it a second too late—a slice in the air, split into the stagnant air as you lose your grip on the pole. Matt leaped without thinking, letting his cane fall to the ground to catch you before you were able to meet the same fate as his cane. He felt his heart jump out of its pants right into his throat, suffocating him.

“I told you to be careful!” he chided, suddenly angry at your clumsiness. He knew that was irrational, you probably won’t remember anything by the time the sun was out, but he was seeing red.

But that only made you laugh—no, giggling. Your hand clumsily patted his cheek. “I love your glasses.”

Matt huffed as he hoisted you up to your feet, hands shaky with how hard his heart was beating now. Foggy handed him his cane and probably gave him slight odd looks now. He prayed that he was also drunk enough to doubt this exact memory tomorrow or chalk it up to a very nice coincidence.

“I told you we’re too broke for a trip to the ER!” Foggy joined him to scold you. He shook his head. “That was terrifying and dangerous. Don’t do that again.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, but a wide smile on your face made the whole ordeal both felt insincere and ridiculous. “Matty,” you tugged his sleeve. “Have I told you I love your glasses?”

“Yes,” Matt mumbled, patting his chest to calm his erratic heartbeat. He pressed his lips to form a tense line, perplexed that his heart hadn’t calmed down yet from the rush of adrenaline. “Let’s get you back to your dorm.”

“But I love your glasses!”

“I know.”

Matt shook his head to snap him out of his stupor. He was just surprised. He was just scared—terrified of what just happened.

You rushed into his dorm without knocking. Matt had heard you approaching before you were anywhere near his door, but he still had the decency to put a faux surprise on his face. He turned around from his chair, listening to you sauntering in like you owned the place, and sat on his bed.

Matt rolled his eyes. “Hello to you too.”

You grunted at him, pressing a pillow against your face.

“Knocking is polite, you know,” he teased. He frowned when it met with silence, and his frown deepened when he felt salt in the air, and then your quiet sob muffled by his pillow filled his every wall.

“Hey, hey,” he slowly approached you, sitting on the edge of his bed. “It’s okay. You’re okay now, I’m here.”

That only made you sob harder. Matt climbed his bed into the empty spot next to you, gently placed his hand on your back in a silent question about whether you wanted to be touched or not. You lifted your head in a silent answer, slowly melting into his embrace, and sobbed against his shoulder.

Matt squeezed his eyes shut, stroking your back in a vain attempt to soothe you. He didn’t know who he did it for—to soothe you or him, distracting himself from the very sound he knew he hated the most in the whole wide world.

“I broke up,” you said hoarsely.

“What?”

“I broke up with James,” you repeated. Matt had to physically restrain himself from scowling at hearing the name he wasn’t exactly fond of. “It didn’t work. We didn’t work. No matter how hard I try we—” you inhaled sharply. “God. God I’m fucking hard to love, aren’t I?”

Matt furrowed his eyebrows. “Who said that?”

“It just… I don’t know. I spent so many times, so many things with him, you know?” you started to teared up again, voice shaky with tears. “I felt like I poured all of my soul into loving him but he didn’t even try to give the same thing. It almost felt like I was an afterthought—god, I actually felt so lonely when I’m with him, you know? Maybe I’m just too much.”

“Don’t say that. You’re never too much, not to me.”

Matt let you collapse your head into his shoulder again, absentmindedly making a circular pattern on your forearm. He couldn’t remember when was the last time that piece of shit actually made you happy instead of eliciting tears after tears. At one point he was convinced you were dating an onion.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you sniffed. “God, I’m going to die alone with twenty cats! Nobody’s gonna love me besides my family,” you wailed loudly.

“We can die alone together with twenty cats if you want,” Matt said, rocking you gently back and forth. “I love you, okay? You’re not gonna die alone. Not while I’m here.”

“I want to retire to the countryside someday,” you said. “Will you join me live in the countryside, Murdock?”

Matt huffed a laugh. “As you said, I’m a city boy through and through. But I’ll visit you every weekend.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“That’s more than enough.”

Matt grabbed your hand and squeezed it. The tears hadn’t dried up completely, but you were no longer actively sobbing or wailing anymore. He rested his cheek atop your head, feeling the familiar feeling of your hair tickling his skin and the smell of your shampoo invading his senses.

The door creaked open and Foggy walked in. He opened his mouth to make a dry remark about how often you stayed in their room—as he always does—only to stop when his eyes caught the sight of you.

“Who do I need to fight?” he demanded.

“No one, Fogs.”

Foggy immediately took a seat on Matt’s bed, his hand silently reaching for you. You shifted slightly on your seat, adjusting so you were comfortably sandwiched between him and Matt. “Seriously, who do I need to fight? What happened to you?”

“I broke up with James,” you said, shaking your head.

“What did he do to you? Where is that bastard now?”

“It’s not worth it, Fogs,” you firmly said. Matt imagined that you furrowed your eyebrows tensely, and he suddenly got overcome with a huge desire to press his thumb between your eyebrows to smooth them out. “Let it be.”

“Fine. But if he does something stupid after this, it’s on sight,” Foggy sighed, pressing his back against the wall. “You can do a lot better, you know? He’s a bit of an ass anyway.”

He’s a major ass, Matt silently thought.

Matt banged his fist against your door frantically. His throat was raw from calling your name behind your door, repeatedly trying to get your attention. It was a wonder none of your neighbors had tried to kick him out yet, but he couldn’t find himself to care anyway. You failed to show up at work today, and after he, Foggy, and Karen were unable to reach your phone repeatedly—all directed to voicemail—he made the decisive decision to sprint to your apartment.

The only salvation and reassurance you did not magically disappear from the earth was the sound of your heartbeat from behind the door.

Your door opened at last, and he immediately knew something was amiss as you croaked, “Matt?”

“Hey,” he breathed, suddenly feeling light. The anxiety that shot up through him suddenly dissipated, like a knife being pulled out from a stab wound. “You didn’t show up at work today. You didn’t answer any of our calls—”

“Oh, shit,” you slapped your forehead. “I’m sorry, I think my phone died.”

Matt extended his hand quietly, pressing the back of his hand into your forehead. He hissed when his skin met your balmy one, a frown found a place on his lips. “You’re burning up,” he said. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

Despite your initial protest, you made little to no effort swatting him away. Not that any of them would work, anyway. Matt tucked you to bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

“Are you cold?” he murmured softly, gently propping your leg up into his lap to put on a sock on your cold feet. You hummed half-heartedly, already slipping back into slumber. “Have you eaten anything today?”

His question met with another half-hearted answer, but Matt still made his way into your kitchen anyway. He was not exactly a stranger there; he burned the layout of your apartment into memory just well enough. He scrambled through your fridge, thankful that you went grocery shopping a few days back.

Matt roused you awake to feed you some of his chicken soup—a recipe his father left him, a legacy, a memento of a happier and simpler day. You were annoyed for being woken up from your sleep, made sure to make a few grunts and annoyed huffs all directed to him, subtlety was never your strongest suit. But you relent anyway when Matt stayed equally as stubborn, the smell of the soup eventually wins you over.

“Go back to sleep now,” he said softly, satisfied that you were warm and fed and had swallowed some medicines. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?” you yawned, snuggling closer to your pillow.

Matt sighed, a small smile tugged his lips before he knew it. “Promise,” he brushed your hair gently.

“Okay,” you sighed loudly. “If I wake up and you’re not here, I’ll fight you.”

“Sure. If you can reach my neck.”

You shoved him gently as a response, too exhausted to verbally bite back from his teasing. Matt lingered until he was sure you were fast asleep before he made his way to your living room to ring Foggy.

“Matt?” you walked the length of the living room with your sock-clad feet. Matt jumped to his feet immediately, meeting you in the middle. “Matt, there’s a giant spider in my room.”

Matt gently grabbed your shoulders, slowly guiding you into his embrace in a protective stance. He tilted his head, a mindless attempt to hear better, and couldn’t find any living being aside from you and him.

Not that he ever paid any mind to bugs in the first place.

“There isn’t any spider,” he said softly. “Let’s go back to bed.”

You shook your head stubbornly, firmly gripping his sleeve. “There’s a giant spider in my room!”

Matt blinked. He wasn’t sure if he couldn’t hear bugs crawling in your walls, or if this was your fever speaking. He sighed quietly, gently tugging you back to your room and back to your bed.

You didn’t voice out any protest, but your clutch on his sleeve was getting firmer and firmer the closer you were to your room. Matt wordlessly tucked you back to bed and laid down next to you.

“Matt?” you called. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m here,” he reassured you. “It’s okay, go back to sleep. You’re safe.”

“Fight the spider for me.”

Matt chuckled. “Always.”

Matt shut his eyes, the sound of your steady heartbeat slowly lulled him to sleep. He found himself silently wishing and praying to be able to stay here, protect you from countless giant spiders, for as long as he could.

“Do you ever think about taking a fanny pack with you?”

Matt blinked. He slowly put down his fork, ingesting your question and dissecting it one by one until it made sense inside his brain. “A fanny pack?”

You hummed, completely ignoring his bewildered expression that he was sure painted as clear as the day on his face, or completely oblivious. Which was unlikely.

“I don’t think your funky suit has any pockets,” you said thoughtfully. Matt would find the whole thing funny that you were sincere and serious with your question if he wasn’t so surprised. “But of course, you ought to put horns on your helmet. Couldn’t say no to living up to your reputation.”

Matt huffed, a laugh escaped him before he could register it—more bewilderment than mirth. He had come clean to you about who he was a few days back. It only felt right after Foggy had found out, and leaving you in the dark, no matter how much the thought of you finding out and meddling in both of his lives terrified him to death, felt incredibly wrong.

You took the news with stride—if a prolonged silence could count as one. But Matt knew you enough to know that the truth had been slowly seeping into simmering water for a while. It was a matter of time before the kettle whistled, and he dreaded the day it happened.

“Why would I need a fanny pack?”

“So you can bring a water bottle with you. Some granola bars to snack,” your voice sounded far away. He hated it. “Dehydration is a serious thing, Matt.”

Matt pursed his lips, caught in between amusement and wariness. “You think about this a lot, don’t you?”

“Can’t get it out of my head.”

Matt toyed with his ramen quietly, the only sound that settled between you and him comfortably was the wind blowing from the rooftop. The kettle was coming into a whistle anytime now.

“I’ll be fine, I swear,” Matt said. “Don’t you worry about me.”

You threw your hands in the air. “That’s not the point Matt!” you yelled, voice cracking with upcoming tears. “What if—what if you hadn’t had time to eat some dinner before you go? What if you’re hungry during your patrol and couldn’t find anything to eat? What if you’re thirsty after leaping from building to building and fighting, I don’t know, some bank robbers?” you jabbed a finger into his shoulder. “No human can go longer than three days without water!”

Matt stayed silent, patiently listening to your rambling about the importance of proper hydration. He felt a smile slowly forming on his face despite himself, despite the tears that slowly ran down your face, and despite the fact that you were yelling at his face. The words of your ramble—slipped with fret and scolding here and there—made his heart sing, flutter with the wind.

He still had the decency not to chuckle and tried to take your words into his heart and put it in the highest consideration. The whole fanny pack idea was an instant no, but he ought to figure out how to stay properly hydrated from now on.

“Are you done?” Matt asked gently with a smile.

You must have thrown him the nastiest look you could muster. “Yes,” you said sulkily. He just knew there was a prominent pout appearing. “Don’t laugh! I’m serious!”

“I know, I know,” he coughed to masked a laughter slowly bubbling up. “I’m sorry. I know you’re worried. But I can’t bring a fanny pack with me, stealth is my key and a fanny pack would defeat the whole purpose.”

“You still need to eat,” you sounded dejected, and it took everything inside him not to scoop you up to brush away all the sadness. “And most importantly to drink water regularly.”

Instead, he settled by grabbing your hand and squeezing it gently. “I promise to always eat some dinner before I go and drink plenty of water before and after patrol. How’s that sound?”

“You still need to drink after fighting too.”

“I’ll find a way. You know I’ll always find a way.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Matt squeezed your hand again. He slowly crossed his heart with his finger. “Cross my heart.”

And later that night, when he found a piece of granola bar right underneath his suit, he knew that perhaps your worry wouldn’t completely melt away—not even with the most sincere promise. Matt found himself smiling widely that his cheeks started to hurt, over a granola bar and no less, feeling his heart painfully blossoming a feeling he still yet to find the name.

But he knew, deep down, his heart was singing your name.

Matt listened to the sound of your footsteps roaming around his kitchen. He stood silently, hovering on the furthest corner of his kitchen counter, waiting for his tea to steep into perfection. You had come knocking on his door first thing in the morning—he was sure the sun was barely out yet, he barely had a wink of sleep himself.

It was his birthday today. He barely even remembered his own birthday, long after he lost his father, the idea of celebrating had never been appealing. But here you were, roaming in his kitchen, rummaging through his fridge like you were the one who spent all the money that goes to all the stuff inside, chopping and staining his kitchen counter as if you owned it. You were determined to pull a birthday celebration for him, even though it only consisted of a small lunch get-together with Karen and Foggy.

Matt couldn’t find himself to mind.

He liked it even.

Little words had been exchanged between you and him. Matt had learned long ago that you have a distaste for talking when you were cooking and insisting on doing so only means inviting his own demise. The sound of your footsteps, the mumble of commentary about certain ingredients underneath your breath, and most of all your steady heartbeat were more than enough.

“Matt,” you called for him, breaking his train of thought. It was hard to get Matt startled, but again, he didn’t expect you’d start a conversation mid-cooking. “Matt!” you tried again.

“What?”

“I’m going to turn on the blender,” you said. The sound of the lid closing followed after. “You might want to put on your headphones.”

Matt pursed his lips. You had given him a noise-canceling headphone as a gift for Christmas a year ago. He didn’t hate it necessarily, on days when it was rough and everything was too loud it helped tremendously, but having himself relied on his hearing for years only to have it numbed out felt extremely jarring.

Not to mention it brought back certain memories he didn’t want to think about.

“Should I?” he asked, pulling his tea bag out of his cup. “I think I can manage.”

“It’s loud. You took a lot of beating last night, I don’t want to give you a headache.”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Matt shook his head.

“But—”

“If it hurts my ear I’ll put it on, okay?”

“You tell me if it gives you a headache.”

“Okay,” Matt smiled. Always so stubborn, you are. “I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay,” you relented. You rarely dispute his claims when it comes to certain things, this included, and Matt was more than grateful. “Maybe don’t stay in the kitchen with me while I turn this thing on.”

Matt squeezed your shoulders as he walked past. A lot of words slowly pushed out of his mouth, a jumble of incoherent sentences bouncing inside his head yet nothing meaningful he could grasp. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he ended up settling with only, “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Put this thing on when you go out,” you said as you draped something around his neck—scarf?—and patted his shoulder proudly. Matt practically could feel pride and happiness radiating off you from this close proximity, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“What’s this?”

“Scarf,” you said, confirming his suspicion. You gently nudged him up to move within the queue for the new bakery that had just opened near your place. Matt had volunteered to come with you after Foggy and Karen both refused your request, not particularly fond of the long line.

He was grateful for the long line, though. Winter had started to give a little taste of its presence lately, the temperature had been dropping steadily this past week. The cold weather outside made this warm bakery a lot more hospitable, but Matt already dreaded the walk back from here.

“Is this an early Christmas gift?” Matt asked, running his hand through the soft fabric of the scarf. The smell of your perfume lingered on every inch of the fabric.

You hummed. “I planned to give it to you on Christmas, but I finished it early.”

“Finished?” Matt shot his eyebrows into his hairline. “You made this?”

“I did! Here, some cool stuff I did, something you won’t find anywhere else,” you eagerly grabbed his hand to trace his new scarf. You were practically vibrating with excitement. “Do you feel it?”

Matt furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “Yes? What’s this?”

“I sew your name to your scarf, so if you ever happen to lose this somewhere, they can return it to you,” you said proudly, completely oblivious to the way the air knocked out of his lungs at once. “And this,” you brought his hand to trace a bump on his scarf. “I think you know this one better than I do.”

Matt gasped loudly, his fingers shakily traced the bumps you had directed him into. Matthew Murdock. You sew his name in braille on his scarf.

It felt like a punch in the gut, a sudden brute attack that made his lungs collapse all at once. Matt swayed slightly, feeling completely light at the way his stomach flipped out of nowhere. He kept tracing his name over and over, in awe at how perfectly it all assembled together.

“I love you,” he blurted out before he could stop himself, the words now spilling out of him uncontrollably. Matt took a long shaky breath, completely drowned in the sea of feelings that flooded him without warning. He didn’t think he could stop now the words were out in the air. “I love you.”

He heard you inhale sharply. “I—”

“No, listen to me,” Matt shook his head. He gently cupped your face, relieved that you didn’t pull away, and aware of how warm your cheeks had become. “I love you. I’m in love with you. I think I always have, I don’t know. It’s always been there, for as long as I can remember,” he sighed. “I also don’t think I can stop now.”

Matt shut his eyes. You deserved a lot better than a makeshift love declaration. He needed to pluck the stars in the sky and lay them on your palms, swam entire oceans, and conquer every single mountaintop. But even then, even if he dragged the moon to your feet and showered you with good-smelling flowers, it wouldn’t be enough to show how much he loved you.

You let out a laugh, soft and fluttering gently in the air. “You’re an ass, Murdock. Are you seriously making a love declaration to me in the middle of a line in a new bakery?”

Matt huffed a surprised laugh. “I feel like you need to know.”

“You’re right, I do,” you covered his hands with your own and gently put them away from your cheeks. You entwined your fingers with his together and melted seamlessly. “But you’re being unfair right now. Because you’re totally kissable, and I can’t kiss you.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“I don’t like sharing,” you said, swinging your hand and his together gently. “I don’t want these people to see me kissing you. I’d rather kiss you alone.”

Matt felt a wide smile blossoming now. “We can always step out of the line and go somewhere quiet.”

“No, we’re already here. I want my cake,” you punched his arm playfully. “But I’ll kiss you as soon as we’re out.”

Matt was positive he was grinning widely right now. “Promise?”

“Promise,” you tiptoed to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Oh, I love you too, by the way.”

And just like that, he was nothing but a goo that bore his name underneath your touch.

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #boyfriend matt-erial #matt murdock imagine #daredevil imagine

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freshabogados · 3 years ago

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Nerf to a Gunfight

I got bonked on the head with a Nerf dart by a random kid on the beach and it developed into this.

My hands have lost all control.

Tags: Matt takes playfight a little too seriously, nothing but fluff, boyfriend!matt, gn!reader, Nerf gun violence, mention of smut but nothing more, SFW.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x gn!reader

"Do it. It's what you've been waiting for isn't it? So go on. Pull the trigger." Matt was being extra dramatic. Acting has become second nature to him.

It started as a joke. Your cousin left his Nerf gun at your place last week when you were babysitting him. He used your bedroom door as target practice, often missing the large target. The child in you wanted to do childish things. You couldn't deny it.

Matt had just gotten back home from work. He put his cane and briefcase on the table next to the door. He called out your name only to hear a muffled giggle in response.

Oh oh. What are you upto now?

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" Matt called out eagerly.

You walked out from your hiding spot behind the bedroom door. Your hands stretched out infront of you, the object of interest gripped tightly in your hands.

"Don't you dare try anything funny, Murdock. Move to your left and you'll find a gun and some darts. Pick it up." playful seriousness took over your voice.

A jolly smile adorned Matt's face as he followed your instructions.

Oh that's what you're up to.

Matt listened to you talk about your cousin's target practice session. You had hinted about having a play fight with him but he wasn't expecting it today.

The rules were simple. Whoever made it to the rooftop with atleast one dart left in their gun was the winner. And the prize? That was the fun part. The winner gets to choose it.

Matt had gotten a few good shots at you. You didn't consider his heightened senses as an advantageous factor for him. You mentally cursed yourself for forgetting it.

It was very difficult to dodge Matt's strikes. He somehow always knew which way you'd move. But you had an idea. You had to back him to a corner and trap him there. He would break out easily but even a few seconds was enough for you to run to the staircase.

The furniture had been moved around by the both of you in an attempt to have more space. You had eventually pushed Matt against the living room window. The coffee table blocked his legs from moving forward and you gave a small push to the coffee table making Matt stumble and fall back to the windowsill.

This was your opportunity to run. You didn't think twice before you dashed to the staircase. Matt got himself out of the poorly made trap in few seconds. But you had the high ground. You took cover on the staircase leading to the rooftop, with a Nerf N-Strike Elite in your hands with two more bullets remaining. Matt was standing a few steps below you, hair sticking out in different directions, tie hanging losely on his neck, sleeves rolled up exposing his forearm, surrounded by darts. They were lying all over the apartment, most of them were his. You hadn't gotten even one good hit at Matt.

This was very difficult.

"I will destroy you and everything you care for." you could be dramatic, too.

Matt snickered at your response.

"You do realize that includes you, right?"

Even now Matt knew how to make your heart flutter like a butterfly on drugs. He kept throwing flirty comments at you ever since you started your game. He was distracting you but you didn't complain.

"Lost in your thoughts, sweetheart?" Matt had made his way up the stairs while you were stuck thinking about him.

Damn he was good at being sneaky.

"I- how?- what?...How did you get up here?"

"Well my legs still work, you know? Come on babe, give up already. You've lost." Matt really wanted this win. He wanted to take advantage of the prize for tonight.

"I am a fighter, Matt. I don't give up. Plus..." you took a step towards him. You put your free hand on his neck, thumb gently running along his jaw, lips dangerously close to his. Matt's eyes fluttered close. You brushed your nose along the length of his neck, breath hitting the sensitive spots on his neck. Matt let out a low hum, relaxing into your touch. You continued your ministrations on his neck while your other hand took hold of his gun. Once you had secured it you took a step back. Matt snapped back to his senses.

"Looks like you're disarmed, Murdock. Too bad because I just shot you" you finished your sentence by emptying out the bullets from his gun on Matt.

He had been defeated but a victorious grin was plastered on his lips as you waved your hands around as if you had been awarded with Marksmanship.

"What?" you asked, smiling, stopping your celebration and bringing your have to a rest on his cheeks

"You've won, my darling!" He said while kissing your wrist.

"What would you like your prize to be, your highness?" He said it with innocence but his eyes were hungry. And so were you. Hungry for him. His disheveled state had left you breathless.

"My prize? I'm yours for tonight, my king. Do whatever you want with me."

Matt didn't waste a second. He carried you down the stairs and into the bedroom. A mischievous grin dancing on both of your faces.

"We should do this again, sometime." you said.

"I'd like that very much" Matt replied, already looking forward to it.

But now he had a very important thing to do. You.

Thank you for taking the time to read my Matt-thots <3

Tag List: @matt-erialgirl @shedaresthedevil @star-spangled-man @mindidjarin @e-dubbc11 @sobachka-korol @1800-fight-me @mattmurdockspainkink @catholicdaredevil @mattmurdocksdumpy

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x gn!reader #matt murdock fic #boyfriend matt-erial #daredevil x reader #daredevil fluff #daredevil x gn!reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x you #kat writes 💫

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freshabogados · 3 years ago

Note

it's summer where I live and now I'm aching for some cuddles in the park with wine drunk Matt. Ezra, love, thankyou for blessing my eyes, heart, and soul with this incredible work of art. For context: I'm sobbing.

picnic with matt and u get wine drunk and u make out on the blanket and i’m such a sundress girl i feel like he’d totally feel up ur tits through the thin cotton

i go brrrrrrrrrrrrrr i'm gonna die this ended up being softer than you probably meant but he deserves some softness so no like even making out afasdf so sorry

it's not often you get to carve out these moments with matt; soft and domestic with nothing but languid kisses and gentle smiles. sometimes you have to force them, practically tie him down and make him take a break.

he's only in the office for a couple hours, not even till noon, when foggy's kicking him out the door. "go home matt, see your partner, breathe in some fresh air. it's fine i've got things handled here."

the argument was infallible truly, no matter how much matt might have wanted to fight it, the idea of seeing you enough to get him moving, feet carrying him back to his apartment.

he's set down his bag and you hear the clink of his keys in the dish next to the door before you whip around the corner from his kitchen, light sundress flowing around you with your every move. you've got a small wicker basket clutched to your chest and he can hear the grin when you speak.

"matty! do you wanna change before we go?" you stroll down the hallway to meet him, leaning up on tip toes to press your lips with his. his arm wraps around you suddenly, pulling you in to his chest roughly as his mouth reconnects with yours the moment you try to lean back, chasing you down to deepen this kiss.

"what do you have planned sweetheart?" he's got a good idea, based on the contents of the basket that's now held at your side but asks anyways.

"a picnic of course," your words are whispered against his lips and he drinks them down, knocking his nose into yours with a smile. one hand reaches out to grab his keys again, and he's leading you out the door with his arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

he can't be more thankful that you and foggy clearly planned this together, the weather is too nice, sun baking down on the two of you tucked under a tree in the park. he can hear kids off playing, screams and giggles, dogs panting on their walks, even someone off in the distance playing a guitar and singing quietly to themselves.

with you curled into his side, taking swigs from the wine bottle you'd packed, not even bothering to pull the glasses out with it. there had been sandwiches and a ridiculous amount of fruit, strawberries and grapes that had been tossed across the blanket at each other just a bit ago.

"enjoying yourself?" you hum, head tilted up to take him in. not long after the meal was over and you were cuddled up, leaning against the trunk of the tree and he'd taken his glasses off and put them somewhere out of sight safely. he's got his eyes closed and flashes of sunlight through the leaves paint over his face, shifting in the wind, he almost looks relaxed.

his eyes fly open and he turns towards you, and your heart aches for him. this is what he deserves, all the time, this calm and happiness that he so rarely gets. not that he'd complain, you're not sure you've ever seen or heard matt take anything with more than a grimace. too accustomed to pain he doesn't even know he shouldn't be receiving it.

"always enjoying myself when i'm with you,"

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil fluff #boyfriend matt-erial

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freshabogados · 2 years ago

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😭😭😭😭😭��😩😭😭😭😭😭

babe. pls. why. I NEED THIS DURING MY SICK DAYS 😩🤌

Matthew WHY DO YA GOTTA BE SO CUTE JSIQJDJS

“Did you hear me?”

Idk why tumblr keeps eating asks im trying to post

This one was an anon asking for A-15 because they love hurt comfort 🥺

First of all, thank you for celebrating with me, i love you ♥️

Second, not sure if this qualifies as hurt comfort but it’s definitely fluff and the prompt was perfect for this!

I hope it’s good!!

A-15: “did you hear me?”

Etmph

Matt’s eyes fluttered open, head tilting to face the bathroom door as the soft, muffled sound continued, followed by a ragged gasp of breath before it started up again.

“What is that?!” He mumbled sleepily, confusion lacing his voice as he got up and went closer to the door.

“Ugh, fuck me,” he heard you groan softly before he heard what sounded like tissue paper getting thrown angrily into the bin.

“Sweetheart?” He called out with a knock at the door, “are you okay?”

You were, in fact, not okay.

On the other side of that door, you were pacing in the tiny bathroom, your palms digging into your forehead and pulling down your face in frustration. Your brain felt like mush, your vision was blurry with tears, your throat was scratchy and, worst of all, you couldn’t stop sneezing.

“I’m fine, yeah!” You called back as enthusiastically as possible, too embarrassed to even have him see you like this, “Did you hear me? I’m so sorry I woke you. Go back to bed, I’ll be out in a bit.

Out in a bit, my ass. I’m going to die in here.

It was the changing of the seasons, you knew it was. You were used to the terrible reaction to the pollen, the dust and the humidity and it usually passed after a couple of days. But Matt had never seen you go through one of these allergic episodes and you didn’t want to change that. It was embarrassing to you. So, as soon as you felt that tickle in your nose, you scrambled out of bed and into the bathroom, where you stifled the sounds of your sneezing as much as you could and willed the nasty reaction to stay at bay.

To your dismay, the sneezing continued. Your body hurt with the effort of stifling them and how harsh each sneeze felt. They rattled your bones and shook your brain in your skull. You felt like your eyes were about to pop out of their sockets with the force.

“Darling, open up,” Matt insisted, your heart stopping every few seconds terrifying him, “something’s wrong and you need to let me help you.”

“You can’t,” you called out to him, your voice nasally and congested now, making you wince, “just please stop listening.”

Matt frowned, his concern increasing with your request, “open the door.”

“No, I—”

“Open it.”

He waited and listened for the click of the lock, followed by the door being pulled open. Before either of you could say anything, another sneeze that you did your best to stifle ripped through you.

“Darling, are you sick?” Matt asked, a sympathetic look on his face as he reached out to touch your forehead, “why are you sneezing?”

You sighed audibly, watching him listen to your body. He could hear the low whistle of your breath in your nose and the static-y sound in your chest with every inhale and exhale. You waited, not wanting to interrupt his assessment as his palm travelled to your back. He could feel your breath rattling inside you, taste the salt in the air from your tears.

“What are you allergic to?” He asked quietly, almost asking himself as he thought about it thoroughly. He was quite careful himself with scents and other allergens because of how sensitive he already is, so Matt was easily at a loss for what was doing this to you.

“It’s the weather, Matty,” you breathed out, cradling his face in your hands, “I get really sick this time of year.”

Before he could get a word in, you ripped your hands away from his cheeks to wrap your arms around your head and sneeze into your elbows. Again, you stifled it as much as you could.

“Are you…” Matt said, tilting his head as he paused, “are you keeping them in? The sneezes?”

“No,” you answered quickly, your N sounding nasally, “I’m not.”

“Baby, I know when you lie,” Matt rolled his eyes, a smile tugging on his lips as he pulled you closer, pushing your head down against his chest, “why were you hiding in the bathroom? What’s going on?”

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” you mumbled, fingers pinching the fabric of his t-shirt to distract yourself from the itch in the back of your throat.

“And…?” Matt urged expectantly, his fingers combing through your hair soothingly.

“And it’s embarrassing,” you finally admitted, your voice small and muffled against his chest as you pushed your face flat against him, almost as though you were trying to hide.

“What?” Matt asked, incredulous, pulling back to force you to look at him, “embarrassing? Darling, how can this be embarrassing?”

“Well, for starters,” you began, pulling away from him and rubbing at your nose in frustration as you seeked some tissue paper, “I sound like Donald Duck—”

“You don’t sound like—”

“Matty — yes, I do,” you sighed, blowing your nose lightly as you turned your back towards him, “now you’re lying. I sound like Donald Duck, I actually sneeze like Dumbo and I can’t stop gasping for air like an eighty-year-old ex-olympic swimmer who thinks he’s still got it.”

Matt just smiled the softest smile you had ever seen on his face, his features sweet, inviting. He reached out to pull you into his chest once again, his palms running in soothing circles against your back as your breath continued to come out in uneven puffs.

“Stop holding your symptoms back,” Matt spoke, his tone reassuring, “I can hear the effort behind you stifling your breath and your sneezing. Let them go.”

You groan before throwing your head back and pulling a much needed deep breath in through your nose, only to find the all too familiar burning behind your eyes and tickle in your nose.

“Fuck,” you whined, quickly turning away from Matt and doubling over in a loud, unbridled sneeze.

“Christ,” Matt breathed at hearing your first proper sneeze around him, “are you okay?”

“What do you think?” You replied, embarrassment heating up your skin.

“Come with me,” Matt mumbled quickly, an idea springing into his head. He wrapped his hand around your own and pulled you with him towards his kitchen.

“What are we doing?” You asked, curiosity lacing your congested voice as Matt lifted you off your feet and sat you down on the counter, right next to his stove top.

“Have you ever breathed in steam to clear your sinuses?” He asked, pulling a small saucepan from one of his cupboards and filling it up with water.

“I haven’t in a long time, but yeah,” you answered, watching him place the pan on high heat to get the water up to temperature before digging into a drawer for something else, “It doesn’t help with these allergies though, does it?”

“It does for me when I pass the florist down the street and catch some of the pollen in my nose,” Matt smiles, pulling a small dropper bottle out of the drawer he had been digging in, “plus, I have a secret ingredient.”

You watched silently as he twisted the cap of the bottle, squeezed the rubber at the top and emptied the drops into the now simmering pot of water.

“That was some eucalyptus oil,” Matt explained as he lowered the heat to keep the water at a gentle rolling simmer, the scented steam starting to hit the side of your face gently, “it helps clear things up. Now, I want you to lean over the pot and inhale the steam as much as you can through your nose.”

Matt’s hands rubbed at your back gently as you twisted slightly to face the stove top, leaning your head over the simmering pot.

“Careful,” he breathed, waiting for you to settle in your position before drawing his hands away, “I’ll go grab a towel and come back.”

You nodded, seeing him leave your side and smiling to yourself as you drew in a breath. It was smaller things like these that really had you unbelievably head over heels for this man. The gentle words, the caring actions and the loving touches. You were in love with him, always, but moments like these always made your heart swell in your chest a little extra. He gave you love in a way no one else ever had. And he could say the same about you.

#daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock #boyfriend matt-erial

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freshabogados · 3 years ago

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SHAE THIS WAS SO CUTE

🤧🥺💖

i wish i had more words to describe how i feel unfortunately I DO NOT 😭

all i want is to be carried to my bed and lie down between Matt's legs and bask in his warmth while my migraines kill me slowly

Stardust, In You and In Me

Pairing; Matt MurdockX ReaderOC (nonbinary reader, uses she/they pronouns)

Warnings; Ahem, TWO IDIOTS PINING AFTER EACH OTHER. Hurt/comfort, heavy angst, poorly timed blind jokes. FLUFF.

Y'all know the drill; if you see a mistake- no you didn't.

Based on this Ask combination from @freshabogados ; this ones for you babes.

*A quick guide for this fic. Anything in blue and italicized is dialogue from the movie. Anything in blue and in standard font is being spoken along with the dialogue.*

@matt-erialgirl @loki-silver-tongued-god @e-dubbc11 @lexlovescoffee @pleasedin @candyello @carisi-sonny

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The fall breeze swept softly over you as you leaned your head back, sighing as your eyes closed. Matt had agreed to come out to your other property after quite a bit of convincing. The pair of you sat on the carved plane on the east side of the hill. The barn that sat atop it cast a shadow that narrowly covered him and entirely evaded you. You had gathered up components from your fridge to create a makeshift charcuterie board as you and Matt looked down into the pastures, watching the horses graze and play with each other.

Matt had been extremely hesitant to meet your horses, even though he adored how passionate you were for the misfit ones you had taken in. You had only made a point to introduce Matt to your four personal equine companions. Upon meeting Tristan, Matt had taken an entire step back.

“He’s uh..wow. He is really, really big.” He chuckled, tongue sliding out from his nerves.

“He’s only 18.2 hands, Matt.” You had replied, scratching the large black horse’s forehead as he licked at your hand.

Matt had given you one of his signature head tilts, unsure of what exactly that meant. You often forgot that most people did not have an equestrian centered vocabulary.

“From the ground to the top of his shoulders, he’s about six feet tall. That’s what 18.2 means.”

Matt had been floored, eyebrows raising.

“That doesn’t include his head? That’s insane.”

You had shaken your head and asked for his hand, and Matthew gave it over reluctantly. You had placed it in front of Tristan’s muzzle but did not make contact. You waited for Tristan to come the rest of the way. Matt had felt the breath come from his nostrils and nearly pulled away. He trusted you, and resigned to stand his ground. The giant beast of a horse touched his nose to Matt’s palm, breathing lightly and smoothing his nose against his palm.

“See? He’s just a big baby. All he wants is scratches and treats. Gets that from his mom.” You teased, moving his hand higher to Tristan’s forehead.

“Something is different about him.” Matt commented, scratching through the waves of his mane. He could now picture the horse’s face more clearly.

“Different how? Different from my other three?”

Matt had nodded, feeling over Tristan’s face to confirm what he had realized.

“He doesn’t have eyes. At all. He’s blind.” He concluded, feeling over the concave flesh where his eyes should have been.

“I told you, we take in horse’s people just throw away. He was born with a condition called moon blindness, so the owners removed them instead of treating it constantly, and then sold him for next to nothing. His breeding is impeccable, but cosmetically he’s ruined to most people. Tristan is worth far more than what Da- we paid for him. He’s worth more than any price tag.”

Matt had not missed the abrupt correction in your sentence but felt it wise to not press the issue. You would talk about it when you were ready.

“I’d ask if you want to get on him, but you wore your nice pants like I asked you not to.”

You had both laughed and agreed that next time, he would get on with you.

Now you were eating cheese and drinking blood orange soda in the grass with your best friend.

“Thank you.” Matt said suddenly, pulling you from your sun basking.

“Hmm? For what Matty?”

You turned to him, shifting on the blanket you had laid down to protect his clothes.

“Sharing this part of you with me. It’s personal to you and… for people like us being vulnerable is difficult.”

You smiled at his words, knowing, with or without heightened hearing, that he was being honest with you.

“You’re welcome…” your words trailed off as you felt it.

The creak of the aluminum gate was so much sharper than normal as a stable hand closed it behind them. The sun that you had been enjoying only moments before was far too bright.

“No. Not here, not now.” You pleaded silently, willing it to stop.

Matt heard your pulse increase, almost as if you were panicking.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked, brushing the back of his hand against your arm.

You had begun to shake your head and regretted the decision immediately. It felt like someone was pounding on the inside of your skull. Your eyes screwed shut and you inhaled through your teeth.

“I um… I have a migraine coming on.” You whispered, attempting to stand. You swayed, becoming dizzy as your vision tunneled. You just needed to get to your house on the property before you passed out.

Matt was up almost instantly, reaching to steady you as you stumbled. You felt Matt’s arms encircle you.

“Let me help you, what do you need?” Matt asked, trying to be even more soft spoken than usual.

“T-t-t-to ge-et to m-m-my ho-use.” You stuttered out, beginning to shake.

Matt supported you as you walked toward the ranch house at the edge of the property. The world began to spin violently, and you felt the wave of nausea roll over you.

“S-s-slow d-d-down. I t-t-think I’m going to be s-s-sick.” You murmured, trying desperately to not throw up on the grass.

You felt Matt’s hand slide down behind your knees, waiting for confirmation before moving you so suddenly.

“Let me carry you. You can close your eyes, so you won’t have to worry about staying upright and I’ll get there faster.”

You shakily agreed, crying out as he lifted you. Matt apologized, picking up his pace as he made his way to the house. You reached a quivering hand down to punch in the code to unlock the door. Matt nudged the door open with his foot, carefully moving sideways to get the both of you through the entryway. Your tongue felt heavy, and your words slurred slightly as you stuttered the directions to the bathroom for your Excedrin. You took the two Matt gave you with a handful of tap water, uncaring and in too much pain to bother with a glass. You felt cold, so very cold and you were shivering so badly changing into warmer clothes proved to be a difficult task.

“Should I call an ambulance? Because we both know I can’t drive.” Matt suggested, just outside your door in case you needed him. You fell into the door frame, using the black painted trim to keep you upright.

“Easy, easy.” Matt whispered, reaching to steady you again.

“N-n-n-no. They’ll j-just s-s-s-send me h-home.”

You explained to Matt that the last time this had happened to this degree was several years ago, and that the hospital had run dozens of tests and found no reason for it at all.

“A-a-a-ll t-t-that and the b-b-bullshit b-b-efore it j-j-just t-t-to be to-old to g-g-go h-home.” You grumbled, making your way to the long side of the sectional to sit down. All this stuttering and shaking; you were embarrassed to show any sign of weakness in front of Matt.

“What happened before you went to the E.R?”

“M-my s-s-tupid boyfriend at t-t-the t-time w-w-w-wouldn’t t-t-ake me. I c-called the am-ambulance myself. H-he was t-t-too b-b-busy trying to f-f-fuck me.”

Matt was beyond words for a moment.

“While you were like this? Are you serious?” he asked, appalled.

“I b-begged h-h-him for t-t-two d-days.”

Matt sat down beside you, and you moved closer to him, trying to soak up some of his body heat.

“He let you suffer like this for that long?”

You saw Matt’s fists clench and then release in irritation.

“T-t-three days t-t-t-total. I t-t-thought I w-was d-dying.”

“What a dick. What’s going on right now, what can I do?”

Matt’s tone was soft, gentle even. He hated seeing you this way, and knew that you hated him seeing you this way even more.

“B-blankets. I can’t s-seem to g-get w-warm when this h-h-happens.”

Matt stood, going to your bedroom to retrieve every blanket he could get his hands on. He set them down on the back of the couch and began to take off his belt, tie, and button-down shirt.

“w-w-why are y-you und-dressing in m-my living r-room?”

He had left his white t-shirt that he wore underneath on, to your relief and simultaneous disappointment. You tried to smile, attempting to ease Matt’s concern but could not manage to make any movement without a sharp, blinding pain behind your temples.

“Because you always comment that I’m a furnace, so I intend to put it to good use.”

Matt arranged the multitude of pillows at the corner of the sectional for his back, sitting down on the couch. The long part of the sectional was wide enough to open his legs and spread out.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

You did not have the will to even argue; you laid down between Matt’s legs as you had many times when you would read aloud to him with whatever book you had in hand. You curled up against his chest, exerting so much effort into not making noise as you moved that your breathing grew heavier. Matt could taste the salt from the tears in your eyes as he draped the blankets over you.

“You can cry if you need to. I swear I won’t tell a soul.”

“And have y-y-you think that I’m m-m-more of a baby than you p-p-probably already do? I think n-n-not.” You scoffed, lips turning upward for just a moment.

“I don’t think you’re a baby at all. You’re in pain, and it’s okay. You don’t have to be strong all the time, not in front of me.”

Gods, he was so warm, and breathing in the oak and amber scent of him was soothing. The sound of his heart beating against his chest was somehow not loud to you, even in your current state. It was…comforting. You moved your head to face the couch, turning away from the light of the window, and finally let yourself cry. You would not wish this pain on your worst enemy; between the thrashing in your head, the tunnel vision, and the uncontrollable shaking you would rather die than endure it for any length of time. Unfortunately, you did not have a choice in the matter. You were slowly, slowly warming up. Being this close to Matt was a place of solace for you, but very rarely did you allow yourself to be this…intimate with him. You could not let it go too far-Matt was one of the few good things in your life, and you’d be more damned than you already were if you ruined it. The two of you understood each other, this life, your mutual struggles- and that had to be enough.

Matt held you to his chest, running his finger through your hair and shushing you gently as you whimpered when each new wave of pain coursed through your head. Eventually, you had fallen asleep, and Matt had dared not move for the sake of you getting the rest you clearly needed and the fact that your cat, Thor, had taken residence upon you as well. Matt had thought it amusing that you traveled with him depending on which house you stayed at, but it was clear to him now that the cat knew you needed him. You had one hand on top of the feline, and the other lightly grasping Matt’s free hand beneath the covers. He breathed you in and felt more at home than he had in recent months. Soon enough, he drifted off to sleep himself, thinking that this was wonderful, but that it was something he could not have, nor deserved. You were worthy of so much more than he could give you.

A few hours later, Matt felt you shift above him as you awakened. Your shaking had ceased for the most part, a light intermittent tremble had replaced it. Your head still did not feel great, but it was certainly better than what it had been. You were now too hot, and you pulled all the blankets off you, save for the softest one that Matt had placed on you first.

“Feeling better?” Matt mumbled, voice deep with sleep.

You nodded, rolling over and reaching into your coffee table for a bottle of water for each of you.

“There’s a refrigerated drawer in your coffee table?” Matt mused, cracking the lid and drinking the water down.

“I’m just,” you gasped, downing your own bottle in between words, “full of surprises.”

“I’m glad that your migraine is gone.” Matt said, running his fingers through your hair again.

“Not quite. We’ve downgraded to a normal headache, but I can live with that.”

Matt frowned, his full lips tilting into a full on pout.

“Well that simply won’t do.” He teased, holding you tighter to him. “What can I do to help you feel better?”

Comfortable with each other. That’s all this was.

A smile spread across your face and then faltered.

“What is it?”

You shook your head, signing simultaneously.

“Nevermind, it was a dumb idea.” You sounded defeated, sad.

“Just tell me, I’m positive it wasn’t dumb.” Matt encouraged, his crooked half smirk returning.

“I wanted to watch my comfort film but you can’t even actually watch it. That would be two hours and seven minutes of your time that I would waste.”

“You even know the run time for it? Must be good if you know exactly how long it is.”

“I could probably recite the entire thing from memory if I’m honest. My mom would put it on when I was sick in seventh grade one day and I’ve watched it when I’m sad or sick ever since.”

Matt grinned once again, an idea forming in his brain.

“Well, since you’ve seen it so much, why don’t you tell me what’s happening while you watch it?”

“Are you sure that won’t be irritating?” you whispered, unsure.

Matt gave you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder.

"I promise it won't be. It'll be like you're reading to me, with ambient noise."

You could not hold back the wide smile that formed on your lips. Matt was such a good friend.

Friend…

You used your phone to turn on the TV and open Netflix. You had no idea where the remote was, but you were comfortable and had no intention of getting up any time soon. You shifted so your back was against Matt's chest and his arms settled around you. Scrolling through Netflix, you found your favorite comfort film.

The opening music of Stardust filled the living room, and Ian McKellen's narration began.

“A philosopher once asked, "Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?" Pointless, really..."Do the stars gaze back?" Now, that's a question.”

“I don't need to tell you what is happening yet, the narrator will explain the backstory and set up.” you whispered to Matt, who smiled down at you.

He continued to smile every time you spoke, whether it was explaining that “Victoria is the girl that Tristan likes, but he deserves better than that.” or that the star had just fallen out of the sky and Tristan had promised to go over the wall and bring it back for her.

An ethereal song began when the scene transitioned to the star.

“That’s Yvaine, she’s the star. She made this huge crater and is in a very pretty light blue satin dress with blonde hair. She sat up and looks confused, but she sees the necklace the king threw into the sky that knocked her down. She’s reaching for it and she put it on.”

“Wait, Tristan? Yvaine? Like your horses? Is this what you named them after?” Matt mused, adoring the thought.

“Yes, now shh. So Tristan’s Father just gave him a parchment letter from his mother that is trapped over the wall, and inside is a Babylon candle. You light it, and think of where you want to go and it takes you there. That’s important later. ”

“I have a mother. I mean, I have a mother. She could still be alive.”

Matt couldn’t help the twist in his chest at the words. He still didn’t know his own mother, wasn’t sure if he ever would, or even wanted to sometimes. You felt the grip of his hand on your waist tighten, just for a moment. You reached down and squeezed it back gently. Your mom had been your anchor, and you couldn’t imagine not ever having known her, even though she was gone now.

“He lit it and crashed right into Yvaine. Poor thing, she’s having a rough night. Knocked out of the sky, confused, hurt her ankle, ya know, just star things.”

Matt chuckled at your description, and then again at Yvaine’s boldness. It reminded him of you.

“And right here, this is where it got hit by a magical, flying moron!”

He heard you give a small giggle at Tristans realization that Yvaine was in fact the star. Then heard the rustling sound of metal as Tristan apologized.

“What just happened?”

“He put the piece of enchanted chain around her wrist that he got from his father.”

The film continued with you occasionally narrating what was happening during scenes with no dialogue, and sometimes even saying the dialogue yourself as it went on.

“Shining has been suspended until further notice.”

“Yvaine, hold me tight and think of home.”

“If there's one thing I’ve learned in all my years watching earth, it’s that people aren’t what they may seem. There are shop boys, and there are boys who just happen to work in shops for the time being. And trust me, Tristan, you’re no shop boy. You saved my life, thank you.”

Were among Matt’s favorites that you had quoted thus far.

“Oh, he jumped a little bit because she grabbed his hand. They’re in love counselor.”

Captain Shakespeare began his interrogation, and you were practically radiating with delight.

“He just threw Tristan out of the window of the sky vessel.” you said casually, as though the main character being tossed to his death was unimportant.

Matt did not quite believe you and a few moments later, he was proven right.

“So right now he’s disguising Tristan so he doesn’t look the same. Longer hair, better clothes. Yvaine just picked out a navy blue dress.”

“Surely it would make you happier just to be yourself. Why fight to be accepted by people you don't actually want to be like?

“Yeah. Why would anyone do that to himself? That sounds familiar. Gods, he’s so dumb. Obviously Yvaine is better than Victoria. Least she treats him like a person.” you grumbled, snuggling down further into the couch.

“She reminds me of you.” Matt said before he could stop himself.

Your eyebrows raised, and you shook your head.

“Nah, I’m not that beautiful. She’s a whole star, she's 8 ethereal and I’m just…me.”

Your answer back was deflective out of reflex. Taking compliments was still hard for you, even after all this time.

"I disagree." Matt countered, unable to listen to you talk about yourself that way.

"And how exactly would you know, Mr. Justice is blind and so am i?"

You tilted your head upward to look at him, smirking at your own wit. Matt was staring back down at you in his own way, glasses gone and set aside on the couch.

"I know that your nose scrunches up when you're annoyed.And that your mouth twists back and forth when something is bothering you and you think too hard about it. You have this glint in your eyes when you're determined. I can't see it, but I can feel it. I know that you are fiercely loyal to the people you care about. And that is more divine than any star. That's an entire universe of beauty."

You felt a light heat spread across your face.

"I see why you win your court cases, Matt. You just bewitch the jury with your words."

He laughed, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

"No, I just tell the truth."

You shook your head once more, turning back to the movie.

"They just spent the week learning to dance and sword fight. They're about to drop Tristan and Yvaine off on land. Captain Shakespeare just whispered something in Tristan's ear."

"What did he say? I didn't hear it."

"You're not supposed to. No spoilers Matt. Now they're walking…and now he's on top of her in a bush to hide her."

"Really now?" Matt whispered, brow raising.

"Aren't you tempted?"

For a moment, Matt thought you were talking to him. But he was indeed. Having you this near was dangerous, but he would not dare take advantage of that. That's not what you wanted, not what you needed. You needed a friend-someone who understood you. That was all this could be, and that would have to suffice.

"Tempted? By what?"

"Immortality. Let's say it wasn't my heart. Not me. Just a star you didn't know."

"You seriously think I could kill anybody? Even if I could, I mean, everlasting life? I imagine it would be kind of lonely. Well, maybe if you had someone to share it with. Someone you loved. Then it might be different."

“Speaking of people being reminiscent of other people, the actor that plays Tristan kind of looks like you. Not exactly like you, but maybe you when you were younger? A college era Matt if you will.”

Matt tsked his tongue against his teeth.

“I don’t see it.”

He swore he could feel your eyes roll as you groaned at the joke.

“You don't say? That’s three bad blind jokes between us in less than twelve hours. New record I think. You would know if I’m lying, so why don't you just take my word for it, Matt?” you replied, turning your head upward once again.

“While that sounds enticing, truly, I think I need more evidence to be convinced. Could you describe him for me?”

You turned your body completely to face him, your face hovering above his own, burying your hand in his hair. It took every ounce of will Matt had to not let his head fall back and moan aloud.

“You have the same colored fluffy hair. It's a warm brown with an auburn undertone.” you began moving down his face.

“Fluffy? I don’t know if I would describe it as fluffy.” he protested lightly, grinning wide.

“Good thing it's not your description that you asked for then. He gets these charming little crinkles next to his eyes just like you do when you smile, like right now. And the dimple that surfaces when you smile as well.”

“lAnything else?”

“He has these kind brown eyes, much like yours. His jawline is not as strong as yours, but that’s why I said perhaps college age you. I would love to see a picture of that by the way.”

He reveled in your touch, and prayed you would never stop. It felt right, it felt like home, even though he knew that it was something that could never happen. This was as far as anything between you two ever went; only light touches of reassurance or description. You confided in each other and felt safe in each other’s spaces.

“You would have to ask Foggy to dig them up. Is… that all?” Matt’s words faded as he felt your thumb brush across the lower line of his bottom lip.

“You have the same mouth shape as well.”

You were so close to him and the thought that all it would take was mere centimeters more for the two of you to make contact crossed your minds.

You swallowed quickly, recapping what you had both missed of the film. You settled back down between his thighs once again, but ventured to place your hand on the side of Matt’s neck, as he often did to you. It was a strange, but comforting habit; it seemed to ground you both to feel each other's pulse, to convince you both that you were here, you were alive, and that this was real. You felt his hand rest upon yours too, and smiled at the reciprocation.

“Tristan just got turned into a mouse by the witch who cannot see Yvaine. Their trip has been expedited and now it won't take two days to get back to Wall.”

Your favorite monologue was coming, and Matt heard your heart rate increase. He was about to ask what was happening when you began to recite it alongside Yvaine.

“You know when I said I knew little about love? That wasn't true. I know a lot about love. I've seen it, centuries and centuries of it, and it was the only thing that made watching your world bearable. All those wars. Pain, lies, hate... It made me want to turn away and never look down again. But to see the way that mankind loves... I mean, you could search to the furthest reaches of the universe and never find anything more beautiful.”

Matt listened intently on the sound of your voice, not daring to interrupt you.

“So yes, I know that love is unconditional. But I also know that it can be unpredictable, unexpected, uncontrollable, unbearable and strangely easy to mistake for loathing, and... What I'm trying to say, Tristan is... I think I love you. My heart... It feels like my chest can barely contain it. Like it doesn't belong to me any more. It belongs to you. And if you wanted it, I'd wish for nothing in exchange - no gifts. No goods. No demonstrations of devotion. Nothing but knowing you loved me too. Just your heart, in exchange for mine.”

You shifted once again, looking back up at Matt, only to find that his head was tilted downward and he was already facing you.

“You really love this movie, huh?”

You nodded in response, turning back to the screen.

“ I have a stardust tattoo in my mom's handwriting, too. Now they’re at an inn, Tristan is no longer a mouse and Yvaine is taking a bath. ”

“Did you really mean what you said in the caravan?”

“What I...? But... You were a mouse! You were a mouse... you wanted cheese! You didn't... I asked you to give me a sign!”

“And risk you being too embarrassed to keep saying such lovely things?”

“He just kissed her forehead.”

“You want to know what the Captain really whispered to me that day?

“She started glowing.”

He told me that my true love...was right in front of my eyes. And he was right.”

“Oh, that’s what he said to him. I figured it was something like that.”

“Told you it was important later. ”

Matt heard the distinct sound of a knife.

“What happened?”

“He cut a lock of her hair and is going to take it to Victoria. He is a man of his word so he has to bring her something.”

Matt listened to Tristan convey a message to the innkeeper to give to Yvaine and immediately tilted his head.

“I have a feeling that isn’t going to translate the same to her when she wakes up.”

“That is an understatement. Now she’s walking towards Wall and she’s sad because she thinks he doesn’t love her, and that it was a lie.”

Tristan made it to Victoria’s home, and she met him at the door.

“He’s dipped her down, and is very close to her face and….”

“You want to grow up and get over yourself.”

“He dropped her. And now Humphrey is here. Tristan has brandished his sword and Humphrey backed down. Victoria has opened the piece of cloth Tristan wrapped Yvaine’s hair in and it's turned to dust.”

“She can’t cross the wall.”

“Like the witches said earlier.” Matt remembered.

“Exactly, now Tristan is running as fast as he can and then the montage of Septimus, Lamia, and Tristan’s mom trying to stop Yvaine from crossing the wall starts. Tristan’s Mom got there first. Now Lamia has Yvaine and his mother.”

“You mean to tell me that Tristan didn’t run fast enough? I don’t like that outcome.”

“Yeah, I didn’t either the first time I watched it.” You agreed, mind wandering to the one and only time you needed to run like that. The time that you were not fast enough.

“Tristan stole the caravan horse and is now hauling ass to the witches castle. Septimus is there. They go in to fight and it doesn't go well. Septimus almost killed his mother, who, surprise, is their lost sister Una, which makes Septimus his uncle. Septimus is killed fairly quickly and Tristan has to fight the reanimated corpse of him, and her sisters to get to Yvaine after some encouragement from his mom. ”

“That sounds so fun.”

“Tristan's sword is shaking in his hand, and I can’t really blame him. Lamia is terrifying. But that’s what courage is, I guess. It's being afraid and doing it anyway. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? You’re not scared of anything Matt. ”

“I’m scared of a lot of things, actually.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“The people that I love getting hurt. Losing this city to Fisk. Large horses, apparently.”

Matt heard Lamia tell the lovers to go, and then heard laughter and glass shattering.

“Oh, She lied? Shocking.”

“Yvaine’s going to save them both.”

“How?”

“Just listen.”

“Hold me tight and close your eyes.”

“What? Why?”

“What do stars do?”

“Shine.” You breathed in unison.

“You came back.”

“Of course I came back, I love you.”

“Oh, now the ruby has returned to red because Tristan is the last surviving male heir of stormhold.”

“That’s convenient.” Matt concluded, nodding his head.

“Now they’re all together again, and his mom has just given them a Babylon candle.”

The voice of Ian Mckellen began again;

“But no man can live forever, except he who possesses the heart of a star.”

“So they both became stars at the end?”

“Mhmm. This movie is why I love space, and stars and fantasy. And also why I took sword fighting classes.” you admitted.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me. "

"Yeah just tally it up with the rest of the nerdy things that I do. Sword fighting is how I got into participating at the Renn Faire. I've got two swords, two practice swords, and a couple of lightsabers."

"You own physical swords?" He queried. Matt never ceased to be amazes when he learned something new about you.

You began to move to get up, but Matt's hand touched your hip, and you paused.

"You can show me tomorrow. Stay."

You lowered back down, burrowing into the warmth of the blankets and Matt once more. You rested your head against his chest, already tired again from the stress of the migraine.His hands found your hair, stroking and running his fingers through the dark waves.

"Okay, I'll stay." you whispered, feeling safe with Matt near you.

You were asleep shortly thereafter, and Matt was not far behind.

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock fluff #boyfriend matt-erial #matt murdock x oc #fluffy fluff #🤧💖

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