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websterss · 4 months ago

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THE LOVE THAT WAS ALL ALONG (1) — TRISTAN THORN

SUMMARY: What Tristan expected to be a normal nightly visit to your bedroom, turns into one of questions and a burning desire to find out what you're keeping from him. There's just one problem, you won't tell him what's wrong.

WARNING(S): angst, some fluff

WORD COUNT: 3,827

PAIRING: Tristan Thorn x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you like it! Feedback is appreciated and always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Not a day passed without that of a pebble thumping against your bedroom window. All the while you tried to retain your focus back on your book. A second tap would soon follow after and you’d be forced to put your placemark within the center of the pages you failed to finish yet again for another night.

You release an annoyed huff as you go over to your windowsill and push the door of it open wide. You then look down and find the culprit responsible for disrupting your nightly reading.

His charming chagrin plastered on his face was making it difficult for you to stay angry. You can’t fight your very own smile as you shake your head at your best friend. “Most people would knock you know.” You tease.

“Where would the fun be in you opening a door?” Tristan quipped.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at the response. Tristan always was the one to take extra measures, not needed at times too. “And what if I had simply decided to ignore you for the rest of the evening?” You ask. You raised a brow down at him.

“Then I would tell you that I’ve got about five more pebbles at hand and am only using a quarter of my strength.” He grinned.

You huff a laugh, knowing true and well in your gut he would do exactly that. Tristan was stubborn in the sense that he was determined to get his desired wishes no matter the cost. It was both a lovely and annoying trait of his. “You’re insufferable.” You say though your tone held no true malice, it was as if you simply stated a fact of life. “You wouldn’t dare break my window.” You pout.

It was only then that Tristan taunted you with a raise of his arm, twisting his body at his waist to ready his aim. A faint smirk slowly appeared on his face.

You gasp and quickly stick your hand out to stop him. “Okay! Okay! I yield!” You surrender, not needing to waste any energy playing out this silly game. You have had nights in the past where this very act had gone on for as long as two and a half hours. You were not looking to waste time. “Now will you get up here, you nuisance?” You ask with a soft laugh.

“No need to fuss I’m coming up to you.” Tristan breathed a laugh at your sudden withdrawal. Pride flooded within him as the same taunt worked on you once more. Last time, Tristan threatened to yell at the top of his lungs if you hadn’t let him up. Perhaps he should consider reusing it again.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as he chuckled. Always so cocky, that Tristan. You watch as he starts to climb the side of your home like a spider, his movements are fluid and natural without a single falter. His hands grilled the edges to haul himself up and into your room. And suddenly your mind takes a wander to what else his hands could do. Clearing your throat you shake that thought away quickly as he easily swings inside. You take a second to look at him this time, the candles lit on your dresser allowing you to fully view his attire.

“You look nice?” You eyed him from head to toe.

Tristan looked down at himself then looked back up at you with uncertainty. “Are you asking me or telling him?” He emits a soft laugh. “Do I not look okay?”

You give a small laugh yourself, your eyes still roaming his figure up and down. “No, no. The complete opposite of not okay. Just a bit different than how you usually dress.” You state. Normally Tristan isn’t all about formalities, but he also can’t let a single piece of his untucked shirt be shown to any poor soul, not without his vest that is. This time around, he looked…presentable, and handsome with his nice dress shirt and coat, even the bowler hat he wore was a surprise to see. Though that was not a bad thing, it was quite lovely to see him less casual than normal. But the ��why’ for such a change tonight had you questioning whether he was going somewhere, or worse yet to someone. The latter you didn’t want your thoughts to linger on much longer.

“Do you think the hat is a bit much?”

“You do look like quite the gentleman with it, I will say.” You muse, giving the brim of his hat a little flick with your finger. It was a nice hat, a fine black color, not too tall, not too short. “It's suitable for a young man. If I didn’t know any better I would assume you were off to see Victoria?” You tease. Only when he didn’t mirror your grin or faint laughter, did your heart begin to sink. Your smile fades into a thin line.

“I am…” He says with certainty.

Your breath hitches and for an aching moment, you forget how to breathe. Your chest becomes constricting with each second of silence passing between you two. You swallow hard trying to regain your senses quickly. Your throat feels painfully dry and the words stuck in it refuse to escape. “Y-you’re going to see Victoria?” You croak. It sounded weak, and a pang of self-disappointment hit you with how pathetic you sounded. Quickly you clear your throat to try sounding more nonchalant and failing quite horribly. “Tristan, you can’t be serious? She treats you poorly!” You mock with a laugh.

“I am quite serious. I’ve told you of my feelings for her. They remain intact and I am to tell her that I love her tonight.”

“You’ve told her that about a dozen times before already! And each time she has tossed you aside like a crumpled piece of paper. She never takes you seriously.” You sigh, shaking your head. Your face twisted with sadness and frustration. It broke your heart every time to see your best friend rejected in such a horrid and cruel way. And for a woman, one who didn’t truly care about him, who was only in love with the idea of gaining another man's infatuation. You knew there was no changing his mind, his persistence didn’t allow for opinions to falter his plans. That damn determination of his. “And each time you go running back to her.” You murmur under your breath.

“She just doesn’t know it yet, but we are meant to be!” He exclaims. Reaching forward to hold you on your upper arms. “I’ll get her to see me as I am, as the man who can show her how loved she is. I’m going to prove my love and devotion to her. I’ll do a grand gesture. Something big will surely convince her.”

Your heart feels a pang at the way he speaks about her. He is so utterly convinced, so foolishly hopeful for someone who will not reciprocate his love. Part of you can’t help being envious of Victoria with how much he truly cares for her. You wish only he could see that you’re right here in front of him and that you could be the one to make him truly happy. To give him the love he wishes for Victoria to reciprocate. But he’s stubborn, much like you. “That isn’t love though, Tristan…Love shouldn’t come from only one half.” You ask. You raise a hand to touch his cheek, his big brown eyes watching you with turmoil and confusion. Perhaps he thinks you don’t understand, and maybe you don’t. Who would understand why someone would continue to pursue a woman who showed nothing but unrequited love? “Why does it only need to be you making grand gestures? What has Victoria done to show you she is just as much interested in you and your time as you are about her?”

“She doesn’t need to—“

Your head snaps up at his response. “Doesn’t need to?!” You exclaim. The bitterness in your tone surprised you as much as it startled him. “That is the entire point of any relationship! It is effort and commitment from both ends!” Your eyebrows are furrowed and you find yourself clenching your fists at your side, fighting the urge to grab his collar and shake him. You have never been so utterly annoyed, so frustrated with him. Your stupid little hopeless in love, Tristan.

“I have a plan. It will all work out, believe in me, Y/n.” He pleads.

Your shoulders sag and a heavy exhale leaves your lips. Of course, your rationalism would not get through to him. You don’t even know why you thought for a moment that it could make him realize the flaws in his logic. “I always do,” You say at last. “But it never gets easier to see you like this, Tristan.” Your tone had softened at the end. You place a hand gently on his chest, right over his heart. “I always carry your best interest at heart with me. You know this of me. I simply prefer not to see you get hurt, especially by Victoria.”

“I know you do. Where would I be if it weren’t for you and your beautiful heart?” He attempts to make light of this heartbreaking conversation.

Your lips twitch at his poor attempt to lighten the mood, yet you can’t help but be touched by the thought. You would always be there for him no matter what. “You know exactly where you’d be, right in some sort of trouble that you’d get yourself caught in, and wouldn’t be able to get yourself out of.” You tease. Your thumb gently rubs his chest against the fabric of his shirt. “I’d have preferred it, you getting into trouble, anyone else would have sufficed though, just not Victoria, anybody else but her.” You admit.

“Why do you dislike her so much?”

Your hand slowly drops from his chest as your frustration comes back. “You need to ask that? She treats you horribly, Tristan. She takes your heart for granted!” You exclaim. Your arms are crossed over your chest now. “How many times has she laughed in your face when you’ve tried to win her affection? How many times has she brushed something you’ve gifted to her as though it was meaningless?” You raise a hand, your fingers slowly raising as you continue listing how Victoria has treated him poorly. “How many other men's hands has she accepted in front of you? She is completely unaware of how truly special you are.” How special you are to me, you wanted to say.

You were taken back when he leaned forward and pecked your temple sweetly. Your heart hammering against your chest as you met his soft gaze. “Tristan…”

He grins softly at your reaction. That one of surprise and embarrassment. You’ve always been such a sweet soul and he knew he could always get you flustered when he was touchy with you. He loved the way the warmth of your hands would travel up to your cheeks, and your gaze, how it would turn away timidly, but he found it endearing. No matter what he did to surprise you it always made your heart flutter. if only he knew just how much it affected you.

“Shhh.” He murmured, his hands coming around to wrap you up in a tight hug.

He stays close to you, his nose tucked into your locks. His hand raised to rest gently on your cheek, his calloused thumb rubbing gently over your soft skin. “Have I ever told you that you are the kindest, most compassionate person I’ve ever met?” He murmurs. His breath was warm on your skin as his breath lightly brushed against your neck. “Anyone would be the luckiest person in the world to have you, I’m lucky to have you in my life.” He breathes a smile. “You’re my best friend in the entire world, and I’m lucky to have met you.”

You wondered if he could hear your heart tearing in two.

“I’m your only friend Tristan. Remember I’ll always- love you as much as I hold your best interest.” You hesitate to admit it.

Your stuttering and wavering words are caught by him, and you hate how the very sound of your voice falters. You didn’t want to come off as fragile, but no matter what you could never hold together your feelings for Tristan.

His nose is still buried deep in your locks, his large hand now cups your cheek gently. He tilts your head to meet his eyes, a small smile on his face. “You alright?” He murmurs. You despised how well he could read you. Unlike the pages of your unfinished novel, your next moves were predictable. One little change of notation in your tone and he’d be bugging you until you caved into telling him.

“Never better…” You look away from his lingering concern. You don’t miss the furrow of his brows as he palms your cheeks, then your forehead with his calloused hands.

Tristan’s worried eyes roam your face, searching for a sign of distress but is unable to find any. With a frown he continues to keep his palms on your cheeks, he didn’t release you just yet. He was sure there was something not quite right with you. But what could be troubling you? He tilts your head up again, his deep eyes locked on yours now. He knew you weren’t telling the truth yet something prevented you from doing so. Even as much as he hated to admit it, he hated it, that you were being closed off.

“You look feverish…” He mumbles.

His hands then find your arms, pulling them away from where they are folded across your chest. He gently holds your hand in his, turning it so your palm faces the ceiling. He looks over the back of your hand, then the front, then back again. He then gently holds your chin with his index finger, tilting your head so you are forced to look at him again. “You’re all flushed.” He comments, worry etched upon his brow. "Y/n are you sure you're alright?"

"Tristan I am well, honestly." You grabbed hold of his wrist and held them in place. "Please don't fuss over me, it will only add stress to your visit with Victoria. Which you should be getting along to." You gasp as you look around your room.

Tristan frowns, clearly not believing your word. He wants to tell you no, that he doesn’t want to go and see Victoria anymore, at least not till he is certain you are well. He knew you well enough that you would be stubborn too, that you wouldn’t let him win this one no matter what he did, you never did when it came to your feelings.

He huffs. “You’re as stubborn as a mule.” He says. But he listens to you anyway. “You’ll be alright until I get back, will you? You promise?”

"With my entire heart." You muse then remember what you were in search of. "Oh yes, here." You walk over to the vase on your nightstand and remove the bouquet from where they sat all pretty. "You'll need these." You smile as if you hadn't just taken out your own flowers for his benefit.

Tristan raises a brow once you pull out the bouquet, tilting his head to the side. He recognized those as the flowers you had been arranging just last week. He raises his other hand up, placing it gently on top of yours. “Y/n, why would you give me your flowers? No, you went on a rant about how long it took you to find them. No.” He protests, his brown eyes wide with bewilderment. He tried to take the bouquet from your grasp, to put them back, but you held them tight, not allowing him to snatch them from you.

Tristan is taken back momentarily by your actions. You seemed to be determined for him to leave, but he couldn’t help but be grateful for your thoughtfulness. You were truly an angel sent to him and yet he could see it. He felt guilt for that as well.

Taking the bundle of flowers from your hand, he couldn’t help but admire them while you moved to sit on the edge of your bed. The flowers were gorgeous, and the petals were a mixture of white and a soft yellow. Daisy's. He took a quick sniff of them, the sweet scent of their fragrance filling his senses.

"They'll grow back…" You mutter as you fidget with a loose thread on your blanket.

Tristan looks up upon hearing your mutter, a hint of sadness in your voice. He watched you as you continued to tug at the loose threads on your bed uncoiling it from its knitted form. He wasn’t certain what had gotten into you, you weren’t acting like yourself. “Spring won't come for another two months, Y/n. You waited for them to be in bloom.” He says softly. “You put in a lot of time and hard work into the arrangement, it doesn't feel right. I don't want you to give them up for me." Tristan glances down at the bundle in his hand. "I can always get Victoria another."

"Right…yes of course." You huff with a faint smile tugged on your lips.

Tristan's eyes softened at your smile, no matter how much he wished for it, it didn’t reach your eyes. Something was off about you, yet you were keeping silent about it. He took a hesitant step forward, almost as if he were afraid to even touch you now. His eyes remained locked onto your form on the bed, his expression tight and thoughtful. “You’re acting unusual.” He murmurs.

"I've just been more tired than usual, Tristan. Nothing to worry your pretty head about." You try to make light of the tension.

Tristan is not having it. He would not brush off your strange behavior. Not when his gut was telling him something was wrong. You were not being honest with him and he knew it. His jaw clenches at your attempt to make light of his worries.

He moves over to kneel in front of you. He gently places the flowers down beside you on the bed before taking your hands into his own. His fingers gently rub over the back of your hands, his touch is tender and soft, just like he is. His eyes remained locked on yours, the worry in his gaze is evident.

"Tristan-"

Tristan softly shushes you, his fingers still gently caressing and massaging your skin. You’ve always known him as a stubborn and determined soul and you knew it as he began to cut you off. He wouldn’t let this go, he refused to believe you were ‘just tired’. Something was troubling you and he was not going to let it go. “You’re not just tired, Y/n. You expect me to believe that?” He says softly, his eyes searching your face. "Something has upset you and I intend to get to the bottom of it until I know."

"Well, you can't, not right now at least, you have a Victoria to win over."

Tristan’s head shakes. He wanted to laugh at your stubbornness but he knew that would be a terrible move. You were both equally hard-headed that was for sure. He sighs, you were doing your damndest to avoid talking about what was bothering you. His gaze softened, and his hold on your hands tightened ever so slightly.

“Y/n. Please.” He implores. “Just talk to me. You’re upset about something. Tell me what is bothering you."

"Tomorrow."

Tristan's shoulders slumped, it was clear he was defeated. But only for now. He knows you weren’t one to back down and knew there was no use in trying to get it out of you now. However, that wouldn’t stop him from trying again tomorrow.

He looks down at where his hands are holding yours. “Promise me that tomorrow, you’ll tell me. No more excuses or brushing it aside. I want to know what’s bothering you as soon as the day breaks even.” He quietly requests for the simple favor.

"I promise…Now- leave or you're opportunity of reaching a lifetime of happiness will surely close." You muster a laugh and begin shoving him off your bed towards the open window.

Tristan stands to his feet once you push him away from the bed. He doesn’t miss the way you’re trying to shove him out the window and away from you. He frowns at your persistence, he hates the idea of leaving you here, upset about something you won't tell him, yet he can’t fight your insistence to leave.

“Fine, fine.” He mutters. He begins to climb out of the window, turning his head once more to glance back at you. His smile reached the corners of his eyes. “Tomorrow. I'll find you.”

You go to grab one of your pillows, aiming it ready to throw it at his face. Your throw a failed miscalculation as it lands before his feet. Tristan does his best to maintain his chuckle. "That…is very upsetting. It is nowhere near my head let alone near myself."

"Out!"

Tristan rolls his eyes at your command. “Yes, yes.” He mutters, and with slight reluctance, he turns to finish his descent out of your window. He glances up for a moment, locking eyes with you, the soft smile is still on his face. "You better rest up. You won't get rid of me so easily tomorrow. I'll be even more of a nuisance. Keep the flowers, I'll find more." He teases with a crooked grin, then is out of your view.

"Oh, joy..." You finally let your shoulders fall as you slump back against your pillows, the muscle ache and tiredness you felt throughout your body becoming more prominent. You forgot how easily you forgot about your state, especially when Tristan was able to distract you from the pain.

Tristan’s concern only grows as he takes notice of the way you blow out the candles almost immediately as he hits the ground. His brows furrow at your hurried state to have him leave, to go to Victoria, and to dismiss any chance he had to talk with you through what you are currently struggling with. It was eating him alive and it was making him second-guess treading down the streets to Victoria's house. He grips his hat, sparing your window one last glance before placing it on top of his head. Pocketing his hands for the walk away from your bedroom window and towards the girl he loves. Yet he can't help but let the nagging feeling of guilt eat at him as he puts one foot in front of the other.

#tristan thorn imagines #tristan thorn imagine #tristan thorn x reader #tristan thorn x fem!reader #tristan thorn oneshot #stardest tristan thorn #charlie cox #charlie cox imagines #my gif #writings by juls #writings by juls: tristan thorn

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l0vergirlwrites · 2 years ago

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you’re losing me ; matthew murdock

warnings: pure angst, swearing, matthew is kind of a douche,

song inspo: “you’re losing me” by taylor swift

your mouth felt dry. it was hard to swallow your fear. your skin felt hot. the room felt smaller than normal.

the tension in matthew’s apartment was growing thick, like a cold morning fog. he wore a scowl on his face.

“say something! you need to say something” he broke the silence, standing up from the couch to stand across from you in the kitchen, but you held a hand up to stop him.

“no,” you halted. “just… no” you croaked, hands gripping the countertop to hold yourself up. your knees felt weak, like they were jelly. adrenaline was running through your veins as your stomach dropped to your feet.

“y/n, you know i wouldn’t cheat… you know me, cmon” he shook his head, adamant that you’d believe him. but you weren’t so sure.

“do i?” you asked aloud, as if you were trying to get matthew to rethink his words.

“because the matthew murdock i know wouldn’t lie to me about trailing around the city with his ex? or would he? oh my god…” saying the words out loud made you cover your face in your hands, heart banging against your rips as it started spiralling.

matthew just scoffed at your behaviour, causing you to raise your head up. “what? what is your problem matthew?”

“i knew you wouldn’t understand…” you stopped listening after he said those five words.

he’s been like this for weeks now, acting like you hardly know him as well as the lover from his past—but he’d say it in such twisted ways. you knew it was her influence—the power she had over him was unbearably strong. but, a little part of your heart had hoped that he wouldn’t act like this—that your matthew wouldn’t diminish you like this.

you knew his daredevil work was important to him, as well as defeating the hand. but the way hes explaining it to you as if you were incompetent in comparison to electra made this your final straw. the dam broke inside you, & you couldn’t stand to have your heart broken again.

“stop,” you cut him off loudly. “just stop it. you’re losing me matt—i-i can’t listen to your bullshit anymore” your voice croaked again when you pushed yourself off the countertop, brushing by matthew’s body quickly towards the bedroom.

“don’t like what i have to say? you’re going to walk away? like this is nothing?!” matthew followed you, the scowl on his face ever so present in your mind.

“don’t you dare act like i treat our relationship as anything but a priority. that’s mean matt, & you know it” your voice was on the edge of being ice cold, it’s freezer burn itching matthew’s skin as he nervously scratched the back of his neck.

you continued grabbing your purse. your keys. your wallet. your spare clothes. your phone charger. your toothbrush from his bathroom. you took it all.

“this is ridiculous” he deadpanned, walking over & grabbing your upper arm. “stop packing. don’t leave—“

“don’t touch me” you jerked away from his touch, pushing his hand off your arm in a flash.

matthew’s brows furrowed in offence. he was left speechless for a second.

“then talk to me!”

turning to face him, you elicited a sigh & crossed your arms. “okay, let’s talk”

“i’m unhappy. i feel lied to & pushed away as a second thought. i know you love me, but you act like you love her more—you let her sleep in my clothes on my side of the bed for god sakes matt… what do you expect me to do with that?!” you poured out your feelings to him, eyes glossy & head ringing with a headache as you gestured to your shared bed.

“she was hurt—she almost died y/n! what? do you want me to say i’m sorry for saving her life?”

“that will never justify you not being honest with me… especially when we’re engaged! why can’t you understand?” you stepped closer to him, crossing your arms tighter to your chest. your voice grew quieter with your last words, hoping you’d get him to see your point of view.

he still gripped his black mask in his left hand. it made you laugh internally. bet he wants to be out there than here right now….

“you’re hurting me matt… can’t you see where i’m coming from? or sense it? you’ll fight for her, risk your life for her… but you can’t fight for me? or choose me?”

matthew felt his heart drop as realization started kicking in, but he was stubborn. he didn’t want to be wrong about this. “i don’t understand—i was trying to protect you y/n… i-i…” unsure of what to say, matthew just stood there at arms reach.

tears were slowly falling down your cheeks as you scoffed at him this time. “you think lying is equal to protecting? not like this… definitely not like this”

“but you’re the one i’m marrying—i’m your fiancé. doesn’t that show that i choose you?” matthew’s point was valid, so you sighed in slight agreement.

“but, you’ve cancelled on me multiple times. you’re barely here! i sleep alone, cook alone, clean alone, shower alone… you’re only here when you need something for her. that doesn’t feel like you’re choosing me”

brushing past him again with your purse in hand, you walked towards the apartment door. “hey, where are you going?” he questioned, trialing behind you with determination.

“away”

“when are you coming back?”

the sound of your engagement ring being placed on the credenza echoed in the apartment. “i don’t know” you swallowed again when you took your hand away from your ring, knowing matthew wasn’t taking your action well.

“no—no. don’t go” he pleaded with you, his hand coming up to brush your arm but you stepped away.

your heart strings were pulling. you didn’t know it’d be this hard. “i can’t marry you if you act like you don’t want me—like you don’t love me. i’m not putting myself through that anymore” you had to turn your back to him because it got too hard to look at his melancholic expression.

he stood there like a statue—still with no movement. matthew wanted to pull you into his arms, tuck his head into your neck & keep you close. but at the same time, he knew he couldn’t. he had to let you go.

“you know, it’s kinda funny,” you commented with your hand on the door knob. “you fight your clients & you’ll fight for the city, but you can’t fight to make me stay, or prove me wrong… you’re just letting me go,”

you looked at him again, seeing how he was a shell of the man you grew to love over the last few years. this felt wrong—the whole situation felt so wrong. but you had to do this for you. he needed to get his life together.

“i just thought you’d try harder than this, murdock”

& with that, you pulled the door open & stepped out of the apartment with a heavy heart. matthew stood there stunned as he heard you push the elevator button, walk inside the compartment, & sigh when the doors closed.

he slid down the door frame, holding his head in his hands with his fingers tightly gripping his hair. he felt angry. disgusted with himself. but he felt even worse when he heard your quiet sobs from the elevator.

he lost you. his daylight—& now all matthew had was the loneliness of midnight.

you lost your daylight too, but you lost it a while ago.

#mcu fanfiction #charlie cox fanfiction #mcu daredevil #charlie cox #celebrities #charlie cox imagines #daredevil #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock x reader #matthew murdock imagines #matthew murdock #matthew murdock angst #charlie cox fanfic #matt murdock #matt murdock blurb #matt murdock mcu #netflix daredevil

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kendallsroyco · 1 year ago

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I need someone to show Charlie this tweet 💀

#charlie cox #what i would pay to see him read this out loud #this is better than any thirst tweet imaginable #daredevil #matt murdock

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vigilxnte-shit · 5 months ago

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i want your midnights || matt murdock x reader

summary: you sleep better when matt is around, but the last thing you want is to make him choose between you and the city.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: NOT EDITED NOT EDITED AT ALL SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY also mentions of anxiety

a/n: based on my own insomnia as of late and also the fact that there is not a single member of the tuna team with a normal sleep schedule

this is an 18+ blog. minors dni. || masterlist

you didn’t know what time it was.

you knew it was dark, that it was raining, and that there was a slight, tugging tension in your arm where it rested under your pillow, bearing the weight of your head. you knew that the empty pillow next to yours felt smooth and empty and cold, that it faintly smelled of coffee and whiskey and, in a perfect world, would be cradling perfect chestnut waves and supporting the man you loved.

but the world wasn’t perfect. it was dark, it was raining, and there was an intense, stifling lack of matthew murdock in your bed.

you tossed and turned, shoved your head into the pile of pillows, snuggled with the sheets to get a whiff of his lingering cologne- nothing helped. he wasn’t the sheets or the pillows, he was actual warmth and the comfiest set of arms you’d ever been wrapped up in. he was real, he was yours, and he was out saving the world, just like he did every night.

you took some comfort in knowing that he was listening, that he was always leaving an ear open. he’d told you several times that on the more stressful nights, the evenings where the punches landed harder and the blood ran heavier, he’d look to you for respite. you liked to imagine it, exactly as he said- his gaze always veered up, in the direction of your apartment, seeking you out the same way he did god, zeroing in to listen to your heartbeat and your breath. to the one thing that brought him back to earth. you. the sounds of you living, not even conscious, just existing and waiting and his.

it was comforting to think about, but it wasn’t a substitute. you were still left matt-less, still alone. with an upset huff, you turned onto your back and stared at your dark void of a ceiling, your mind leading you to the morning. you wanted to bring this up with him. you wanted to talk it out, find a compromise and start spending your evenings in his arms, but that would leave out one very important detail that made matt, matt. that detail was this little thing called daredevil.

you knew it when you’d fallen in love, that daredevil came with matt murdock, and you knew you would never understand it. you’d had your experiences in double lives, one face with your parents and another with your friends, but you couldn’t even begin to fathom it on this level, the torment and anguish that the catholic felt for engaging the vigilante. you knew it was difficult, you knew it was important to him, and you knew that, whether you liked it or not, your heart belonged to the devil of hell’s kitchen just as much as it belonged to the lawyer fighting for justice- but that knowledge didn’t take away the anxiety, or the missing him, or the lonely nights.

the emptiness of your ceiling made your mind envious as you went through the options. of course, you could call him- maybe it was a slower night, maybe he could call it early and come in from the rain to your arms. the longer you thought about it, though, the more that plan fell apart. you tried to save the burner he’d given you for emergencies; it had been used exactly once since you’d received it and only because he’d heard a fire alarm go off in your building. he probably wouldn’t appreciate the interruption, especially if it wasn’t a slower night.

you could wait up for him, but that would upset him, too. he’d spent the past weeks begging you to try melatonin and offering to find you a therapist for the anxiety that plagued you, insisting that your rest was more important than him having someone waiting. him and his lawyer ways, of course, had tried to convince you that even falling asleep while waiting still counted, but you didn’t believe that. you knew if he climbed through that window bleeding and bruised only to find you sound asleep, he would never wake you up. he wouldn’t even consider it, and this was where the problem came to its head.

you slept better with matt murdock next to you. that was a fact, plain and simple. no anxiety medications could replace that, no weighted blanket could make up for his arms. you slept your best when he was next to you, tangible and warm and smelling like the faintest hints of coffee and whiskey as he held you to his chest, and the nights that you got to experience that were paradise. and yet, you could never tell him that. you could never put that on him. he could choose between helping you sleep and protecting the city over your dead body, and you didn’t care how dramatic that sounded. you loved matt. you loved daredevil. you loved the devotion he held to his city, his ceaseless passion for keeping the streets as safe as he could, and you could never be cruel enough to ask him to choose between that and yourself.

you forgot to blink with how you stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. you were stuck. you had no clue what to do, and you were only roused from your swirling brainstorm by the sound of the actual storm outside entering your window for the briefest of moments with its opening and immediate re-closing.

“you should be asleep.”

his voice was gruff, deep, just like always when he returned home- a bit hoarse from the tone he adopted, from the occasional yelled conversation. you could hear the rain dripping off of him, the way he lightened his steps in the boots he always wore so he didn’t seem like he was stomping. the little things, the details where your matty shone through the suit and armor.

“can’t,” you answered. that was all you needed to say. you knew he could hear your heartbeat, pick up on your temperature and focus on your breathing. he was doing it now- the silence gave it away with the intense feeling of somehow being watched.

“we’ve gotta get you in therapy, sweetheart,” he said softly. you heard his mask thud onto the bedside table, a gentle dropping sound accompanied with his softened footsteps before you felt his icy, rained-upon lips press your forehead. “i’m worried about how little you’re sleeping.”

you answered with a low hum, finally turning onto your side. “are you at least coming to bed soon?”

you loved how he looked, mask-less in his signature reds. he looked worn out and tired and accomplished for the night- that sparkle in his hazel eyes would fade in the shower as he pondered whether god was proud of him yet, but for now, you savored it. he smiled at you- a soft, affectionate little pull of his lips, followed by a nod.

“let me go shower. i’ll be back in five.”

he gave your hand a small squeeze. you returned it before nestling into your pillow. your eyes rested easier now, the pillow felt softer and the air felt warmer just from his presence. your eyelids became so heavy you had to close them, focusing on the sound of the running water and the slowing patter of the rain.

matt was listening, too. he had been the whole night- it had been quieter, like you’d hoped, and he’d spent most of the night listening for you. he’d known you hadn’t slept, your heart rate spiking and sinking and back again, your breath too fast to be unconscious.

that was why as he stood in the shower, hot water running down his back and rain still audible on the roof, he smiled. he had been monitoring you since his arrival home, listening with a feeling of pride as your heartbeat steadily decreased and your breathing became more even.

you were nearly asleep when he came to join you, only roused slightly by the sudden feeling of his arms around you. you stretched and yawned, calling a soft “yeah?” as you adjusted. he just chuckled, squeezing you before kissing your cheek.

“go to sleep. i’m right here.”

your wordless response was to snuggle into his chest, that coffee cologne pushing it’s last, most faint notes to your nose with the warm backdrop of his embrace. you took less than a minute to fall to unconsciousness, your soft exhales brushing his chest and your forehead under his chin.

matt smiled to himself, his own eyes falling closed to the rhythmic melody of your heartbeat.

#matt murdock <3 #daredevil #charlie cox #matt murdock #vienna writes #matt murdock fluff #netflix daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil x reader #Spotify

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sunflowersandsapphires · 5 months ago

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Can I get a Lily for Matt and Frank, how would they react to finding reader crying?

Matt

He’d probably (absolutely) sprint home if he heard you crying

Chuck his cane and everything

Darting up to the apartment, arms outstretched, asking you what was wrong as you burrowed into him

Cradling the back of your head, he’d carry you to the couch and set you in his lap, shushing you softly until you were a bit calmer

He’d be pretty insistent that you tell him what happened, wanting to talk things through with you before coming to a conclusion

Frank

Frank on the other hand becomes sort of “act first think later” when you’re hurt or upset

Panic sets in whenever he finds you crying. He hides it well but every alarm in his body is screaming for him to FUCKING FIX IT. he hates seeing you cry.

If he could sell his soul to keep you happy, he would.

Like Matt, he’d use physical contact to ground you, help calm you down, as well as remind himself that you’re still alive—even if you aren’t happy.

He’d pretty much demand to know what happened. And as soon as you were tucked into bed that night, he’d search far and wide for whoever wronged you, ready to ensure they didn’t do that ever again

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farfromstrange · 1 year ago

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Is It Over Now? | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader ; (hinted) Frank Castle x Reader ; Elektra Natchios x Matt Murdock

Summary: Matt cheated on you, and you are trying to navigate through it.

Warnings: Angst, no happy ending, break-up, mention of cheating, song references (Taylor Swift), inspired by 'Is It Over Now?', (some) Matt "slander", (somewhat) suicidal thoughts, alcohol consumptions, hint at smut

Word Count: 1.7k

A/n: 1989 TV came out and I am losing my shit. Is It Over Now? Is my new favorite song and I just had a brain fart that made this. You can read this if you're a Swiftie and catch the references or just read it without listening to the song. It works either way.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

To be fair, there was a time when you thought it would never end. The thought of ever having a last kiss with him would have killed you back then.

He told you that you were the love of his life. You believed him. He was yours, certainly. You can’t deny that.

You were happy, you laughed and cried together, and part of you figured that if you ever broke up, you would find a way to work through it somehow.

Maybe in another universe, you are still together. Maybe in another universe, you two are still friends. Maybe in another universe, you never had to lose each other.

In this reality though—in this brutal, unforgivable reality—everything changed in a matter of a day. And there is nothing you can do about it now.

Your flower was withering in secret, and you didn’t realize what it was doing to you. Every time you woke up alone, every canceled date, every time he called you and told you he wouldn’t make it home tonight, it was sure to build up to this.

But this, whatever the hell this is, it hurts beyond compare.

He said you were a rose, but now that you look in the mirror, you only see a rotten mess.

The past few months have done this to you. He has done this to you. The paper airplanes crashed and burned. There is nothing left but pure bitterness and this hatred you have toward yourself and him; you just want to land your fist in his face, and then maybe your own because how could he hurt you like that after making you love him so very much?

You loved him so much, but now you doubt he ever loved you back.

Date after date, coffee after coffee, nights spent together on his couch and in his bed, sharing laughter, sharing tears, it all feels like a hoax now.

You held him when he was unconscious, stitched him up and told him he was going to be okay. Where was he when you were bleeding out from your own battles? You wonder.

His smile used to be your safe haven, the epitome of innocence and strength, but now it only makes you angry. It makes you resent him. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t, but you still do.

So much has changed, and all it took was one day.

One day.

Three hundred days, all wasted in one.

If you think about it, you spent almost an entire year attached to each other’s side. You moved in together. You kissed, you had sex, you shared secrets you wouldn’t have told anyone else. You helped him hide away from the world, from his enemies, made the world go quiet, and comforted him while he cried. You waited up, you worried, and you almost lost him more times than you can count, and you still stayed.

When no one else would take a chance on him, when he felt everyone was against him and going to leave him, you acted as his rock. You stayed.

You thought he was the one.

And then it just… ended.

You gave him the benefit of the doubt when you found her in his dress shirt on his leather couch. The very same couch you two often shared passionate nights on, but at the same time it used to be a symbol of so much more than that.

You let him explain. He explained that she got seriously hurt after showing up out of nowhere, and he just wanted to help without putting you at risk. You believed him because that is the kind of man he was in your head. He was going through some things, things you couldn’t possibly understand, and she was the connection. You tried to understand. In the process of understanding him though, you lost yourself.

That is something you will never forgive him for. Making you care, making you love him, and unintentionally making you give up on yourself while he continued to break your heart.

You never wanted this to end, never wanted him to go, but in the end, it was the only way. Sticking around wasn’t an option anymore, you have to remind yourself.

He did the one thing he promised he would never do. He broke your heart and your trust into a million pieces that you are now left to pick up on your own.

You didn’t want to see it before. You were too in love to open your eyes.

He wouldn’t do such a thing, right? You remember repeating that to yourself, to your friends, to Foggy and Karen, but Karen saw him with her, too, and she gave you little hope.

Still, you believed in him. You believed in his morale and his faith. You had faith in him, not even in God but in him and the man he pretended to be—and somehow, he still picked up the knife when you weren’t looking and buried it in your back.

There were so many signs, but you were blind. So many flashing lights. Red flags. Screaming voices in the back of your head begging you to think. You were in a forest full of trees, yet you saw nothing.

When you came home to find his lips on hers, that’s when you knew. Too little, too late.

He called your name. He told you, “This isn’t what it looks like!” But you lost count of the times he used the same line in relation to her.

To anything, really. He always knew how to talk his way out of something when you were together, although back then, it was mostly harmless.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. “And you turned right back around and fucked her!”

“It was just a kiss,” he argued.

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No,” Matt was adamant because he could hear your heart breaking.

The way you spoke to him was so eerily quiet. That was how he knew he lost you, and he tried to fix it with nothing but his hands.

But that is not how you fix a broken vase. That’s how you make it worse and hurt yourself in the process.

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“No. Fuck you, Matt!”

You tore the necklace with his initial off your neck and tossed it at his feet. You couldn’t even look at it. You wonder what happened to it after he picked it up.

“I trusted you. I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I was there when no one else was, and this is how you repay me?” you said.

You should have never let him fool you.

At least you had the decency to keep your lonely nights to yourself.

“Sweetheart, please,” Matt tried to beg again.

You wouldn’t let him. Thank God you were strong enough to withstand the tears in his eyes.

“You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock,” was one of the last things you said to him. “I wish we’d never met.”

Three hundred days. You fell in love. You finally knew what love felt like, and then…then he turned around and fucked it all up.

“We’re done.”

Some days, you still regret it, but if it was so easy for him to toss all this time together down the drain, he probably wasn’t worth it.

But God, you were so in love.

Sweet nothings whispered in your ear are gone now. You’re all alone in your bed. No one to cuddle, no one to touch. It has been a while since you heard someone say, “I love you,” and mean it. You felt loved until you didn’t. Until the life he led ate him up.

Instead of talking, instead of fighting with you, he drove you into a tree. A car that didn’t need sight, and still he crashed. It was winter then, the snow painted red by the blood of your broken heart. Your favorite dress torn up as you tried to escape. He reached for you the same way you reached for him, but you weren’t there. And he wasn’t there when you needed him most.

Part of you feels bad. You could have worked through this if he hadn’t kissed her. Or maybe you wouldn’t have. In the end, it killed you. It killed him.

You killed each other.

Though there are still days when you think about jumping off of very high somethings just to get his attention. Just for him to see you. To come to rescue you. It is a hurtful and selfish thought. Yet, you can’t help it.

He was your first true love.

Your mind keeps repeating the same sentence: It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he told you once.

He searched for something greater in the bed of someone he loved before. You weren’t his first love. You should have known he would say that and not mean it.

But when exactly did you go wrong?

Was it over when he stopped coming home at night? Was it over when he forgot your anniversary? Was it over when he canceled your birthday dinner? Or was it over when he shoved his throat down his ex-girlfriend’s throat in front of you and acted as if it didn’t matter? Was it over then?

“Another one for the lady,” a voice pipes up beside you.

Your empty glass of tequila disappears, now replaced by a full one. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on.

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger.

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He sits down next to you. “You look miserable.”

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand with a mention of your name.

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say.

Broken people make bad decisions, but whether it was over when he took her right there on his couch, or it was over when you told him it was doesn’t matter.

It is over now, and all you want to do is forget.

You need to forget Matt Murdock.

And if this stranger called Frank needs to unbutton your blouse to help you do so, you will gladly follow him home.

Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @ravenclaw617

(also, I keep tagging you in stuff, but I also think you might like this @blackshadowswriter)

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #daredevil x reader #daredevil angst #angst #no happy ending #songfic #is it over now by taylor swift #elektra natchios #frank castle #frank castle x reader #x gender neutral reader #elektra natchios x matt murdock #cheating trope #lizzi writes #charlie cox #matt murdock imagines

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writingdumpster · 1 year ago

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first impressions

pairing: Matt Murdock x reader (no pronouns used)

warnings: none I think

summary: i wrote this purely bc i know matt murdock is excellent at meeting people’s mothers. after impressing your parents matt gets to thinking about his future.

word count: 1.6k

“I’m nervous.” You sat next to Matt in the restaurant he had chosen for the evening. It was fancy. There was a pianist in one corner of the room and linen tablecloths. It was nicer than the hole-in-the-wall joints that you and Matt usually preferred. He wanted to impress your parents though, so he had made a reservation at a swanky restaurant in midtown Manhattan.

Matt was in his court suit and you had donned the blue silk dress he bought for your anniversary. It was by far your favorite dress. Beyond being a treasured gift, it fit you perfectly and the fabric always felt soft against your skin. Karen had helped Matt pick it out, but she had told you that all she did was describe the dresses and that he had completely ignored her opinions. She had strongly recommended a yellow dress but he had refused her suggestions, insisting you would like the one he picked better. Never having seen the yellow one, you knew he was right. If he picked it, you loved it. You would have him choose between options you put out when you got dressed in the mornings by describing them to him and he always had you match his tie to the rest of his outfit.

“It’s going to be fine,” Matt said and kissed your temple.

“I only ever introduced Caleb to my parents,” you told him, not that you hadn’t said it before. Matt knew that Caleb was not someone you had pleasant memories of. He had heard the stories from you and he was the one who helped you get over many of the fears that Caleb had struck into you. Matt was remembering those stories while he heard in your heartbeat how nervous you were.

“You know I’m not like Caleb,” Matt reminded you.

“I know, Matt. I just…this is a big deal for me,” you said.

“It’s a big deal for me too, sweetheart,” Matt told you. “It’s just an exciting big deal for me.” You inhaled deeply. Matt smiled. “You have nothing to worry about. Moms always like me, angel. It’ll be great,” he assured you.

“All women like you,” you said. Matt laughed lightly.

“Then that will include your mom, won’t it?” He asked rhetorically. He gave you a light peck as he tangled his fingers with yours beneath the table. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he cooed. You sighed.

“You’re right. I know they’re going to love you. I just…” You hesitated.

“Caleb was a mistake and you think it’s bad luck,” Matt said, always knowing what you were thinking.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“This isn’t a mistake, sweetheart. I promise. It’s just the next step,” he told you. You nodded and Matt gave your hand a squeeze. You looked up at the doorway to the restaurant.

“They’re here,” you said. You rose from the table and greeted your mom and dad with hugs. Matt was standing by your side with a charming smile across his face.

“Hello, Mrs. y/l/n,” Matt greeted with a smile. Your mom held her arms out to Matt and pulled him into a hug. He returned it kindly.

“Oh, please, call me y/m/n,” your mom said. “Y/N has told us so much about you. I think we can be on a first name basis,” your mom said. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as your mom told Matt how you spoke about him. Matt simply turned to you and smiled. He loved that you told your parents about him. He wished he could tell his dad all about you. Your father held out his hand for Matt to shake. Matt stayed still, not wanting to give up his powers. You took Matt’s hand and pulled it to where your father’s hand was waiting.

“Oh, sorry about that,” your dad said in embarrassment as he shook Matt’s hand. Matt chuckled lightly.

“That’s alright, sir. Took y/n months to stop answering me with nods,” Matt joked.

“It was not months,” you said sharply.

“You still do it sometimes,” Matt teased. You pursed your lips, biting back the comment about how you knew he could tell. The four of you sat down, Matt pulling out your mother’s chair for her before doing the same for you and taking his seat.

Matt was right about mothers loving him. He charmed your mom with his dry sense of humor and enchanting smile. He won your dad’s approval when he mentioned he owned his own law firm. Your father didn’t need to know that Nelson and Murdock was nearly always on the edge of bankruptcy. Your parents told Matt stories about you from your childhood, despite your protests that they were too embarrassing. Matt loved the stories. All he could do was smile at you. The night was perfect. Matt was perfect. Your father refused Matt’s attempt to pay for the meal before the four of you left. You said your goodbyes in front of the restaurant before getting into different cabs and going back home. Matt’s hand was resting innocently on your leg while the two of you sat in the back of the cab.

“I told you it was going to be fine,” Matt teased you. You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, you were right, Murdock,” you agreed. Matt chuckled.

“Doesn’t happen that often. I have to brag when it does,” he said. The cab pulled up outside of your apartment and the two of you got out. You made your way up the stairs and walked through the sliding door. The glow of the billboard outside of your window was blue. A new advertiser had taken over a few weeks earlier and the red light that usually filled the room had been replaced with a blue light, making it seem like your apartment was bathed in moonlight. You were looking through the mail that you had collected on your way up.

You realized you didn’t know where Matt went when music started playing. You smiled to yourself as you tossed away the junk mail. Suddenly you felt hands on your hips as Matt pulled you away from the counter. He spun you around and moved one of his hands to the small of your back. The other went to cup your hand in his. You giggled before moving to wrap your free arm around his shoulders, fingers tangling in the hairs at the nape of his neck as the two of you began swaying back and forth. Matt loosened his hold on your waist and moved to let you spin beneath his arm before pulling you back into his body and dipping you.

When Matt pulled you back upright you leaned up on your toes to press a kiss to his lips. Matt smiled against your lips. You stared into his eyes when you leaned away. His eyes were so beautiful. You never cared that his eyes didn’t see you the way yours saw him. He saw you in so many other ways.

“You really impressed them,” you said as you leaned closer to Matt, tucking your head against his neck.

“I told you moms like me,” Matt said.

“My dad liked you too though,” you said.

“Yeah,” Matt agreed. “We just can’t let him visit my office. He won’t be impressed anymore.” You chuckled.

“I certainly hope he won’t ever need a lawyer,” you said.

“If you hadn’t needed a lawyer we never would have met,” Matt reminded you.

“Yes, and that worked out very well,” you agreed. “But when we tell our kids how we met I think we should make something up.” Matt beamed.

“Our kids?” He asked. Your heart dropped for a moment and your face went blank.

“I mean, umm…” You started stuttering.

“We’ll have to get married first,” Matt interjected before you could start backpedaling. Your panic turned to excitement. You grinned.

“You obviously have my parents' approval now,” you said. Matt smiled.

“And you’ve certainly gotten Foggy’s approval,” Matt replied.

“Foggy likes me better than you,” you said with a laugh.

“Yes, I know,” Matt said flatly. “He’s very clear about that.” You held back your giggles.

“If you came into the office with cookies instead of bruises like me he might like you more,” you joked.

“I do bring in cookies,” he grumbled.

“Yes, but Foggy knows I made them,” you said. Matt sighed.

“He wouldn’t like me at all if I brought in cookies that I made,” he said. You giggled at the memory of Matt trying to make your birthday cake and causing the building to evacuate after setting off the smoke alarm.

“When we have kids I bet he’ll like them better than both of us,” you said. Matt smiled.

“That’s alright. We can use him as a babysitter that way,” he said.

“Maybe if Karen’s there too,” you said. Matt chuckled.

“You don’t trust Foggy with our kids?” He asked.

“Matty, you have told me far too many stories about you dragging Foggy back to your dorm after a frat party for me to trust Foggy with our kids,” you said. “He will most certainly let one of them do something stupid.”

“And you think I won’t?” Matt asked.

“You won’t let them do something stupid, you’ll do it for them,” you said. Matt spun you around in his arms once more as the song came to an end. He kissed your forehead when he pulled you back against him. Matt’s heart was full at the way the two of you were so casually talking about your kids. He hoped it wouldn’t be long till they were real. He knew what he wanted. He didn’t want to wait for it anymore. There wasn’t anything stopping him now.

“You want to go ring shopping tomorrow?”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock x gn!reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader fluff #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock imagines #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #charlie cox x reader

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marrziy · 2 months ago

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TENHO FOME.

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amhrosina · 2 years ago

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Afterglow (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Masterlist // Join My Taglist

a/n: another taylor swift song fic lmfao i just cannot help myself, this one is so angsty i almost felt bad for Matt just writing it (someone pls give that man a hug, he NEEDS one) also i feel so bad about not posting that i didnt even send this one to my beta reader i just posted it and hoped for the best lmfao

Summary: Matt and Reader have an argument that feels like it might be relationship-ending after Matt's hectic lifestyle as Daredevil catches up with him.

warnings: ANGST BRO SO MUCH ANGST, matty really just deserves the world, angry matt at the beginning, soft matt and foggy convo, matt doesn't know how to accept love, super soft matt at the end, some religious imagery i guess, happy ending

I blew things out of proportion, now you're blue

Put you in jail for something you didn’t do

I pinned your hands behind your back, oh

Thought I had reason to attack, but no

Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves

Chemistry 'til it blows up, 'til there’s no us

Why'd I have to break what I love so much?

It's on your face, and I'm to blame, I need to say

The door slammed behind Matt in a fitful rage, and he was so pissed off, so intense in his anger that he wanted to turn around and slam it again, just to lash out a second time. It was so unlike him to be this way, so unlike him to allow the festering wound that was his soul show itself so plainly, but it had been a long night, long year, long life and he was fucking tired.

And you. You. You. You. You’d been caught in the crossfire.

“Fuck.” Matt breathed, already regretting the argument that he’d started simply because he hadn’t been able to reel the Devil back in after a long night. The tight leash he held on the part of him that he hated, the part of him that you’d never seen because he’d hidden it so deep inside himself every night, was a ghost in his hands. The line between Matthew the person and Daredevil the vigilante had been blurring for months, but tonight was the first time he’d let it slip through the careful facade he’d been constructing around himself. He was a shattered window, ready to break at the slightest bit of pressure.

The cold sliced into Matt’s skin as he stepped through the doorway at the front of his building, a sobering chill of wind that triggered the memory of your eyes welling with tears. He’d been relentless in his anger, and what for? Because he had a bad night? Because he couldn’t save everyone, and somehow that was your fault?

Asshole is the word you’re looking for, Matthew.

Matt groaned and pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing Foggy’s number before he could talk himself out of it.

“It’s three in the morning, Matt.” Foggy said by way of greeting, voice still heavy with sleep. “You’re not somewhere dying are you?”

“Only metaphorically.” Matt replied, shuffling his feet. He lowered himself to sit on the stairs beneath him, huffing as his body settled against the concrete. The metal of the railing dug into his temple as he rested his head against it, an uncomfortable reminder that the only person to blame for this was himself.

“You okay?” Foggy’s tone had shifted from a sleepy annoyance to somewhat concerned.

Matt closed his eyes. He didn’t deserve the love he received from his friends.

“I’m-” He started, but cut himself off when he realized he had no idea what he was going to say. Was he okay? No, he didn’t think so.

“You’re kinda freaking me out here, man.”

“I fucked up, Foggy.” He deflated as he admitted it.

“With her?” Foggy pressed.

“With her. With everything.” Matt shrugged, blinking away the tears burning the back of his eyes. Your sudden return to his thoughts felt like whiplash, and he couldn’t catch his breath. “She deserves better than me.”

“Matt,” Foggy chided, and Matt could tell he was shaking his head, “Don’t say that. She loves you.”

“Maybe not anymore.” Matt knew how ridiculous and juvenile he sounded, but the Matthew-Murdock-party-of-one pity party was in full effect, and he was leaning into the sad corner of his being so aggressively he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

“She loves you.” Foggy repeated. “I don’t think anything could change that. What happened?”

“I had a bad night and yelled at her. It was stupid and I feel like an ass-”

“An asshole.” Foggy finished, and Matt couldn’t stop the chuckle that followed this observation. “Listen, did you tell her any of this?”

“Not yet.” The longer Matt sat, the more he hated himself for leaving. The words he had shouted echoed in his mind. “She should just leave. I’m never going to be able to give her what she deserves.”

“What about what you deserve, Matt?” Foggy asked, heated in the defense of his very best friend, “You deserve to be loved, too.”

Matt sat with Foggy’s statement for a second, letting the love wash over him for the briefest moment. Is this what it’s like for the kind of people who can easily accept the love of others? His body felt warm and fuzzy, an unfamiliar but comforting sensation that had him rubbing the heel of his hand across his chest.

“I should go apologize and hope to God she’ll take me back.” Matt sighed.

“She will, Matt.” Foggy assured him. “She will.”

Matt returned the phone to his pocket and turned, heading back into the place that held his entire aching heart.

It's so excruciating to see you low

Just wanna lift you up and not let you go

This ultraviolet morning light below

Tells me this love is worth the fight, oh

I lived like an island, punished you with silence

Went off like sirens, just crying

Why'd I have to break what I love so much?

It’s on your face, don't walk away, I need to say

Hey, it's all me, in my head

I'm the one who burned us down

But it's not what I meant

Sorry that I hurt you

When Matt reentered the apartment, it had only been twenty minutes since he’d stormed out, but it had felt like hours. You were in the same place that he’d left you - curled up in a sitting position on the sofa - except now your cheeks were coated with salty tears that permeated the air around you. Matt tasted them on his tongue the second he opened the door, a twinge of pain shooting through his chest as he realized just how bad the situation was. You were so deep in thought, cycling through the words Matt had spat at you, that you hadn’t noticed his arrival.

“Petal?” Matt called softly, alerting you to his presence in the room. You startled, turning to look in his direction. The silence before you responded was deafening and anxiety inducing, something Matt had never handled well. He wrung his hands together and took a step closer to you. Finally, you spoke.

“You came back.”

Not a question, but not really a statement either. A simple observation that left Matt stumbling over his words.

“I uh…never really left. I was just downstairs.” He scratched the back of his neck. “On the steps out front. I didn’t go far.”

“I thought you weren’t coming back.”

Matt’s lip wobbled as he inhaled sharply and asked, “Do you want me to go?”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that question. He listened to your answer anyway. He would listen to any words you had to offer, even if they were words that might kill him.

“You said some terrible things, Matt.” You sniffled, sighing heavily as another wave of tears coated your cheeks. “You said ‘If you can’t handle this, I don’t think we should be together anymore.’ And the funny thing is, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be handling.”

“Petal, I-” Matt began, shaking his head.

“No, Matt.” Your voice had suddenly become very firm and very loud, all at once. Matt flinched. “I’m not finished.” You adjusted your body, leaning your head back against the sofa before continuing. “I don’t know who you are anymore. My Matty would never keep things from me or disappear for days at a time or yell at me. The man I fell in love with is missing, and I don’t know what to do to get him back.”

The hold Matt had on his tears was obliterated as you admitted your feelings to him. Warm tears fell down his face, every droplet an admission of guilt. You were right, of course. Matt hadn’t felt like himself in months, and instead of trying to get a grip on himself, he had been leaning into the suit every night, forcing his mind to focus on other things. He always took on the brunt of the pain in any situation - he’d been doing this his entire life - but he had not realized how much of that pain was being transferred to you every time he forgot himself.

“Baby, I’m- I can’t even say how sorry I am.” Matt sank to his knees in front of you, pleading. “You’re right about everything, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be good enough for you or come home to you after work like a normal boyfriend would and I’m sorry for the things I said. I never wanted to hurt you the way I did. I will never, ever, deserve your love.” He swallowed a sob as he admitted what he thought was the truest thing he’d ever said out loud. “Foggy told me I deserve love but I’ve thought and thought about it and I can’t imagine a world where your love will ever feel like anything but a gift to me.”

You sighed again, sniffling as you lifted your hand to cradle Matt’s wet cheek.

“I know I’m fucking it up. I’m sorry I can’t be more. This is all I have to offer, and I know it’s selfish to ask you to keep loving me but I can’t be without you. You’re all I have.”

“I don’t understand, Matty.” You shook your head, furrowing your brows.

“You’re the only thing that brings me home. And I don’t mean physically. You’re the only reason I can find my way back to myself. You remind me of the love the world is capable of. Not even Foggy can do that for me the way that you do. Can’t you see that you’re it for me? Without you, I am just a man walking hand in hand with the Devil. There is no point without you.”

“Matty.” You sighed, caressing his cheekbones as tears cascaded down his face.

Matt wasn’t sure what he wanted you to say. That he did deserve love, or maybe that you weren’t going to leave him after tonight was over, or maybe anything besides ‘I don’t love you anymore’.

“Don’t leave me.” He begged, barely above a whisper, so tired of the war raging in his mind. If there was anything he was capable of doing tonight, it was pleading with you for this. Beyond that, he was useless. “Don’t leave.”

“Will you lay with me?” You asked, and Matt nearly collapsed into your hold. It was not what he was expecting, but he would take it. The inevitable self-hatred and doubt about this moment echoed in the back of his mind, but he was ignoring it for once. All he wanted to do was lay with you, so that’s exactly what he did.

Tell me that you're still mine

Tell me that we'll be just fine

Even when I lose my mind

I need to say

Tell me that it's not my fault

Tell me that I'm all you want

Even when I break your heart

I need to say

I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you (Ooh)

I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you (Ooh)

I need to say, hey, it's all me, just don't go

Meet me in the afterglow

Matt was on the verge of tears again, lying next to you in the bed that you had shared with each other for so many nights. He was so afraid of losing this, losing you. He wasn’t entirely sure he would survive if you asked him to leave after this. He wasn’t entirely sure that mindset was healthy, either, but that didn’t stop him from contemplating it. He was here, and you were here, and if he was destined to live in this doubt forever, then at least he would die next to you.

Your tears had long dried up, but the ache deep inside you was palpable and overwhelming and he didn’t know what to do. The hand you had led him here with, the one that you still held, the only thing connecting your body to his was his safety blanket. This was what people called a safe space, he thought. For the first time in a long time, Matt began to silently pray.

He prayed for you, and he prayed for himself, and mostly, he prayed for love. He prayed that the night would last forever, so that he could lay next to you for the remainder of his life. He prayed for forgiveness, and begged for yours. He prayed for the strength it would take if you didn’t grant it to him. Because if you asked him to leave, he would. It would hurt and possibly - no, definitely - kill him, but he’d do it, because you deserved that, at least. The possibilities of the night were endless, and that was the scariest thing to Matt. Anything could happen.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, lightly squeezing his hand.

“I’m praying.” He murmured, squeezing your hand back.

“About what?”

“About you.”

“Oh, Matty.”

The smile on your face, the steady thump of your elevated heart rate, felt like a win. Comfortable silence overtook the room, and you were so still for so long that anyone else might’ve thought you had fallen asleep, but Matt knew better. You were thinking, contemplating every word that had been shouted, pleaded, and begged tonight. All the while, Matt prepared himself for the worst.

“The sun’s coming up.” You murmured.

“Yeah?” It was all he could muster. Everything hurt, and he never wanted this moment to end.

“Yeah.” You swept your fingertips over his cheeks, following the path of the sun as it draped itself across both of your bodies.

Matt swallowed, opened his mouth to ask the dreaded question, and then closed it and swallowed again. The gentle caress of your fingers felt like a brand in his skin. Finally, in a thick voice he asked for the second time in a matter of hours, “Do you want me to go?”

“Oh, Matty.” You whispered, tears welling in your eyes, and Matt’s heart sank into the ground below him. He thought he could do this, but he couldn’t. He was just supposed to leave what you had built with him? After everything, he was just supposed to count his losses and move on? No fucking way. His breathing had picked up, and he was so focused on his pounding heart that he almost missed the rest of your sentence. “I never wanted you to go. I just wanted you to understand how lonely I’ve been without you. I’m upset with you, but I’ll always love you, and I’ll never be the one asking you to leave.”

Matt stopped breathing for a moment, soaking in the warm relief as it crashed through him. He didn’t have to go, and you loved him. You loved him. You loved him.

“Are you sure?” He forced himself to ask, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

You let out a small giggle and pressed your lips to his forehead before responding. “Of course I’m sure, Matty. But it has to change, okay? We can’t do this to each other again.”

Matt could hardly believe the words coming out of your mouth. He would do anything to keep you here, holding him, keeping him safe, loving him. Anything.

“I promise.” He murmured, grabbing at your face to pull it closer to his. “I love you.”

He pressed a million kisses into your face until you let out the melodic laugh that he felt he could get drunk on. He would do anything to hear that sound again, to be the one causing that sound. Anything.

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fandom-imagines-stories · 10 months ago

Text

You Can Talk to Me

Matt Murdock x Reader

Words: 5730

Summary: A night of drinks becomes something else when the reader reveals what’s been bothering her the past week. Matt tries to not be blinded by his feelings for his best friend as he comforts her, but this heartbreak may be just what she needs to see what’s right in front of her.

Notes: Yet another Matt comfort imagine, surprise surprise. I guess the thing about heartbreak, is it gives you plenty to write about. I don’t really have much else for this one, other than I’m just writing whatever I need right now. And fuck it, if that means combining smut with a comfort imagine, so be it. This is a lot, but I loved every minute of writing it.

Warnings: Angst, 18+ SMUT (choking, oral, unprotected, the works)

More Matt Imagines Here

Karen checked her watch again, head peeking over the growing crowd at Josie’s to try and spot the fourth member of their get-together.

“She’s never late,” Karen said, frowning. She turned to the two men waiting with her. “Maybe I should call again.”

Matt listened. Old rock hits played over the speakers and a group of men bickered by the pool table, but past the buzz of the neon and slight muffling through the window pane, he heard it. Quick, shallow breaths and a hurried heartbeat paired with the sharpness of salt in the air.

Matt stiffened.

You were crying.

He heard as you took a few deep breaths and hastily wiped your cheeks.

You pushed open the door to the bar with a strained smile and searching eyes.

“She’s here,” Matt said, his tone turned solemn.

What happened?

Foggy beamed, spotting you by the entrance. “How does he do that?”

Matt’s head tilted, analyzing your movements as you made your way through the crowd. Karen and Foggy were still looking for a table, but he could practically feel the effort it took to keep up your sunny demeanor.

“Sorry I’m late,” you said, finally reaching them. “I got an unexpected call from work.”

Your heart skipped.

Matt’s worry deepened.

You’d never lied to them before.

Karen waved it off. “Well, you’re here now.”

“Let the party commence!” Foggy cheered.

Matt gave you a small smile. You did your best to return it. The other two left to get more drinks.

“Work, huh?” Matt prompted.

Your heart skipped again. “Yeah, they just needed to run something by me. No big deal.”

“Right.”

You noticed the twitch in his smile, the gentleness in his tone. You should have known he’d be able to tell something was wrong. He always did. It didn’t help that you’d been avoiding your friends these past two weeks. Especially Matt- because you knew this would happen. Somehow, he just saw you.

“How are the cases coming?” You asked, hoping to get the attention off of you. “You guys just won the worker’s comp case you’d been working so hard on right?”

Matt’s smile returned. “Yeah, we did.” He motioned in the direction of his partner. “Foggy’s closing statement really sealed it for us. You would have loved it.”

“Well, I unfortunately had a civil case across the hall.” You flexed your hands. “God, they talked so much I thought my fingers would fall off.”

The two of you chuckled.

“You should take some of that vacation time you talked about.” He cleared his throat, shifting almost uncomfortably. “Maybe go somewhere with Sam.”

You stiffened and glanced down at the table. “Yeah, Matt, about that-”

“Your elixir of drunkenness, milady.” Foggy set your bourbon down with a flourish.

You laughed, grateful for the interruption. “Why thank you, sir.”

Matt sighed lightly and sipped his beer, gripping the bottle a little tighter.

What the hell did Sam do?

You took a long, slow drink and let the burn wash away any other feeling. It worked… if only a little bit.

Karen led you all to a booth she’d picked out towards the back of the bar.

“So,” she said, taking the seat beside Foggy, sticking you beside the human lie detector. “What have you been up to? It seems like it’s been forever since we’ve actually seen you.”

You gulped and slid into the booth, Matt following after you. You almost stammered when his knee bumped against yours.

“Um, it’s been okay.”

Matt raised a brow at your hesitation, nudging you again. It wasn’t like you to hide things. Not from him.

You took a deep breath and ripped off the bandaid. “Sam and I broke up.”

Foggy’s eyes widened, Karen’s softened, and Matt took another drink.

“I’m okay though,” you quickly followed up.

Lie.

“I’m sorry,” Foggy said. He paused, then perked up. “Do you want another drink?”

“Foggy,” Karen scolded.

“What? Break-ups are the perfect reason to get wasted!”

You snickered and downed the rest of your whiskey. “I wouldn’t say no to another round.”

Foggy turned to the others.

Matt shrugged, still listening intently to your uneven breathing. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

Karen leaned, reaching a comforting hand toward yours. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

“No, I couldn’t,” you shook your head. “We’re celebrating you guys tonight.” You took the drink Foggy handed you and raised your glass. “To Nelson and Murdock.”

Matt clinked his whiskey to yours. “And to being there for friends,” he added pointedly.

“Here here,” Karen cheered before you could shoot him a glare.

The next hour was filled with drinks and laughter. It helped you feel a little more like yourself- something you’d been trying to do for weeks. Every time Foggy made a joke or Matt “accidentally” brushed against your arm, the hole in your chest felt a little smaller.

And then you saw him.

Matt heard his voice first. His tense shoulders were why you looked up.

Sam had his arm around a pretty girl with dark hair. You’d seen her at his office before. His head turned, eyes meeting yours.

It was like you weren’t there.

Sam waved at Foggy and went to the other side of the bar, as far away from you as possible.

“That’s just cold,” Foggy said, shaking his head.

You finished your third drink. If you had anymore here you’d start crying and you were not going to let that happen. Not in front of all of them. Not til you were home. If Sam could not care, so could you.

“Do you want to leave?” Matt asked softly.

You swallowed back the panic attack rising in your throat. “No. We should finish our drinks.”

“Do you want another?” Karen offered.

“I’ll just get water to end the night, thanks.”

Matt knew what that meant. You’d finish the night at home, by yourself, drinking until you fell asleep numb. A coping mechanism you had only ever confided in him about. It was easier for you to face everything alone, or at least you convinced yourself it was. He could relate to that.

You couldn’t stop your gaze from shifting toward the couple across the bar, no matter how hard you tried. You watched Sam’s eyes glisten every time he looked at her. He laughed loud enough for the sound to reach over the crowd.

God, you felt so stupid.

Matt couldn’t do it anymore. Even if he hadn’t been able to sense the way just sitting there was eating at you, the idea of you hurting was enough to break him.

“Hey, I’ve got some leftover enchiladas from the Galindo case,” he said, leaving closer to you so his breath was against your ear. “Want to help me get through them?” Before you could make an excuse, he finished with. “They’ll go bad if you don’t. You know how often I forget dinner.” He playful bumped his shoulder into yours.

You rolled your eyes. “And I keep telling you that one of these days you’ll keel over and I won’t run to help you.”

“Yes you would,” he teased. “You like me too much.”

“Maybe,” you laughed.

He could always do that. And the idea of going home alone…

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” You held up a finger, “but only if I can go through your record collection.”

Matt grinned. “Deal.”

Karen saw your gaze flit back to where it was before and leaned to whisper to you.

“I know this isn’t much help now,” she said, “but you’re better off without him.”

“Yeah, I never liked the smug sonofabitch anyway,” Foggy added a little too loudly.

“Shhhh,” you and Karen both hissed.

You thought you saw Sam glance over and ducked to hide your face in Matt’s shoulder.

Karen looked between the two of you, but kept her comments to herself, though her smile grew.

Matt chuckled and took your hand, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb in a way that said ‘it’s gonna be okay.’

Foggy and Karen got a cab but both you and Matt felt okay enough to walk back to his apartment in the warm New York spring air. There was still a bite in the breeze, lingering from winter. Only wearing a nice tee, you shivered.

“Are you cold?” Matt asked, already taking off his suit jacket. He put it around your shoulders without you even having to ask.

Karen shot you a smirk.

You mouthed ‘Seriously?’

She snickered and closed the cab door.

You quickly turned to Matt, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks- not knowing he could sense it, of course. “Ready?”

Matt smiled and held out his arm. “Lead the way.”

His easy demeanor helped to calm you a little and when his arm hooked through yours, it felt like he was the one guiding you. Maybe he was, in a way.

“It’s really nice tonight,” you said, trying- and failing- not to sound awkward.

“Are you talking to me about the weather?” Matt teased.

Your face reddened even more. “Leave me alone, I’m-” you searched for a word, flustered. “Fragile.”

He snickered. “Fragile, huh?”

“Yes,” you nudged his side with your elbow. “Fragile. Which means you have to be nice to me.”

“I’m being very nice,” he said in mock offense. “I’m feeding you Seniora Galindo’s enchiladas and letting you rummage through my records. I’d say I am your knight in shining red glass this evening.” He poked you right back.

“You have certainly been chivalrous,” you smiled and fell into silence, the weight on your chest sucking the energy out of you.

This was how it had been. One moment, you were okay, and the next…

It was like you only had two true modes of being.

Angry.

Or empty.

There was much in between. It was getting harder and harder to remember that any of it had been good to begin with.

The way his eyes just slide past you at the bar.

The way he practically ignored you in the conversations at work.

The way he wouldn’t even talk to you about what happened.

Like you weren’t there.

Like you were nothing.

The word hit you. It struck you in the chest like someone had put their hands around your ribs and pushed.

But you kept walking.

Matt sensed the shift- the hitch in your breath and the hesitation in your step. He wanted to stop you right there and pull you into his secure embrace to block out the thoughts that plagued you. The hurt. He wished he could stop it.

But he waited.

You were grateful for the jacket wrapped tightly around you because the night had turned colder by the time the two of you reached Matt’s apartment building. Still pushing down that dark empty ache, you climbed the stairs with your eyes trained on the ground.

Matt opened the door, ushering you in with a gentle hand on the small of your back.

The touch made you flinch, not because it was uncomfortable, but because the gesture brought out more feeling than you were prepared for. Every nerve was set on edge.

“Sorry,” you murmured, seeing Matt pull away.

He shook his head, still giving you that small smile. “You don’t have to apologize.”

He let you go first into the living room, where you took a seat close to the window. Staring out at the bright, shifting lights of the billboard, you breathed out for what felt like the first time since you saw Sam in the bar.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” you mused. You felt Matt take a seat, the cushions shifting beside you. His arm grazed your back as he draped it over the back of the couch.

“Y/N,” he started softly.

You blinked back tears, a pleading in your voice. “Matt…”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He put a finger under your chin and gently turned your face toward him. “I know you’re holding something back. Why?” There was a desperation in his voice, a need to do something- anything to make it better.

“I can’t.” You still tried to fight against the emotions trying to choke you.

Maybe Sam had the right idea when he stopped speaking to you altogether. And you still didn’t know why.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Matt whispered, moving closer to you. “You can talk to me.”

Those five words were all it took. Two weeks of being blamed and ignored and confused and devastated hit you all at once.

Matt felt the break before the first tear fell. He felt your lips tremble, still trying to hold back the words that were tearing you apart. It shattered him. Matt wrapped his arms around you and this time you didn’t flinch away.

You crashed against him like the waves inside your chest.

“Tell me what’s been going on, sweetheart,” Matt urged, his tone as sweet as the endearment he called you. “Just talk to me.”

“He won't-” You sucked back a sob. “He won’t talk to me. I thought, when he broke up with me, that things were okay between us. That we could be friends like we were before. But now, he won’t even look at me.”

Matt thought about Sam’s quickly shuffling feet, his spiked heartbeat when he saw them there. Like he couldn’t get away fast enough. But why? The last time Matt had been around the two of you, Sam seemed fine. Matt didn’t particularly like the guy but he made you happy. Or he used to, anyway.

“It’s not like I thought Sam was ‘the one’ or anything,” you said, calming yourself down. “But I thought these past two months at least meant something. He’s acting like they didn’t even happen.” You wrapped your arms around your legs, tucking yourself into the corner of the couch. “And I feel like an idiot because we weren’t together for long but… I guess he’d become one of my best friends and now it’s like I’m not… anything, anymore.”

Your last statement struck Matt, but he didn’t push it. Not yet.

“And he hasn’t told you why? He just-” Matt sighed. “Disappeared on you?”

More like he made you disappear.

You curled up more.

“And there’s nothing I can do about it.” There was no hiding the defeat in your tone. You wiped a stray tear. “I just wanted something to work out for once.” How many times could your heart break again and again and again before it gave up?

Matt kept an arm around your shoulders. He moved closer so you could lay your head on his shoulder and blew out a breath. “I know.”

His soft touch set you off again. Your cries were quiet, your tears slow. You didn’t have the energy to sob.

Matt tucked you in his arms, waiting. It wasn’t his place to push, not when everything was so raw. Not when part of him wished he could kiss your tears away.

He’d always wondered if his dislike of Sam came out of jealousy. Matt felt he had waited too long and he lost his chance when Sam came along.

He felt horrible, thinking about that now, but it lingered nonetheless.

“Thank you,” you sniffed, sitting up again. “I really didn’t want to go home alone again.”

You’d counted every crack in your ceiling three times already.

“You can come over whenever you need to, okay?” Matt smiled. “You liven up the place.”

You snorted.

“I’m serious,” he said. Matt leaned over and kissed your forehead. “You warm every room you’re in.”

You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but when your lips brushed against his- just for a moment- Matt pulled away.

“Wait,” he said. The kiss barely lasted a second, but he sounded breathless. His smile almost seemed nervous. “You haven’t picked a record yet.”

You swallowed hard. “O-okay.”

While you walked to his crate records, Matt tried to force his heartbeat to slow down. Just the brief touch had his head spinning. But you were vulnerable and hurting. He couldn’t bear the idea of taking advantage of that. To keep himself busy, he got up to go to the kitchen, getting you a glass of water.

You picked a soft 90s alt album and put the needle on. Quiet drums filled the space but did little to silence your mind. You went back to the couch but didn’t sit down. You took the water but didn’t drink.

Neither of you said anything for a while.

Finally, the guilty part of you took over.

“Sam’s going through a lot,” you reasoned. “Between his caseload and things going on with his family…” God, maybe you were being the selfish one here.

Matt held onto the back of the couch, unfocused eyes trained on the carpet. “That doesn’t mean he gets to treat you like this.”

You turned away. “I know.”

Matt let go of the leather and walked to you. “You deserve better than this, Y/N.”

“I know.” Your heart faltered again. Another lie.

Despite the voice in his head telling him to stop, Matt put a hand on your arm, fingers squeezing gently to get you to face him.

“What is it?” He asked.

You found yourself leaning into his touch again. At least it made you feel something again. When you spoke, it was almost too quiet. If it hadn’t been Matt, he might not have heard you.

“I’ve never had someone make me feel like I was…” The words cracked inside you. “Like I’m nothing the way he has.”

Matt’s heart broke completely.

How could anyone make you think that? How could anyone not see how incredible and important and- he couldn’t even think of enough words to capture the growing need in his chest. A need to not have you feel this way anymore.

“Y/N, no,” he said, taking your face in his hands. “You aren’t nothing. You mean so much to so many people. To Foggy and Karen. To me-” he took a deep breath. “Y/N, you’re everything.”

Suddenly you weren’t thinking of Sam or the girl he was with. You weren’t thinking about your emptiness or your anger. All that mattered, all you felt… was him.

“Matt,” you breathed him in, shaking with your next request. “Please.”

Matt’s lips ghosted yours. He was standing so close you thought you could hear his heartbeat.

“Are you sure?” If you said no, he would step back and you would never have to worry about him not speaking to you. He could never leave you like that, no matter how he felt. But if you said yes-

“I need you, Matt,” you whimpered. You didn’t know how true it was until you said it.

Until he closed the space between you, capturing any other words with his lips.

Matt wished his kiss alone could show you how much you meant. He tried to convey every feeling with the movement of his lips, the sweep of his tongue, his hand moving to cup the back of your head.

A soft moan escaped your throat as his tongue explored your mouth. You tilted your head back, giving him better access.

The sound ignited through Matt. He held you tighter, hands falling to grip your waist while his mouth moved to your ear.

“You’re everything,” he repeated, breath on your skin.

You moaned again, fingers gripping his button down, pulling him back toward the couch.

Matt’s hold tightened, keeping you in place. He chuckled and shook his head. “If we’re doing this.” He lifted you up in his arms.

You yelped.

He wrapped your legs around his waist. “We’re going to do it right.”

He carried you steadily to his room and laid you down on silk sheets. Matt hovered over you for a moment, letting his senses take everything in.

Impatient, you tugged on his hair.

Again, he just chuckled, using one hand to grab your wrists and hold them over your head.

You raised a brow. This was a side of the snarky lawyer you hadn’t entirely expected. Not that you were complaining.

“I need you to do something for me,” he said, a smug smile spreading across his face. There was the Matt you knew. “I need you to be patient.” He kissed along the collar of your shirt. “And let me make you feel good.”

“That’s two things,” you teased.

He nipped at your collarbone hard enough to make you gasp.

“O-okay, Matt.”

“Good girl,” he said lowly. From how your body responded, he kept that in mind for later.

Matt pulled his shirt over his head, not bothering with the buttons.

You admired the curves of his torso, leading downward to the waistband of his pants and what lay beneath.

“Matt,” you said, a slight whine in your voice.

He smirked.

Bastard.

You pulled those smug lips back to yours, kissing him with just a smidge of defiance.

Matt’s hand made its way to your throat, squeezing just enough to hold you down.

“Be. Patient.” He growled again with a deeper tone.

He removed your shirt and bra in two swift motions. Matt didn’t waste any time roaming his hands over your body, committing every touch to memory.

Your breathing hitched as his fingers each ran over your peaked nipples. Rough yet gentle hands massaged your breasts. Matt rubbed his thumbs over the sensitive buds again if only to hear that lovely little gasp again.

He took a moment to remember how this all started. As one hand teased its way down your stomach, the other took hold of your chin.

“You are not nothing,” Matt said firmly. His fingers dipped beneath the fabric, undoing the button of your jeans. “I want you to say it.”

You bit your lip and tried to turn away, but his hold wouldn’t let you.

Matt kissed your lips then trailed his way to your chest, listening to your heart.

“Please?” He kissed the skin in the valley of your breasts.

You breathed out a sigh. “I am not nothing.”

“I know you can do better than that.” Matt trailed his kisses over the slope of your skin so that his lips hovered over your nipple. “Come on, sweetheart. I need you to believe it.”

“I am not nothing,” you said a little more confidently despite the hitch in your words when the tips of his fingers grazed your clit.

Matt nodded before taking your nipple into his mouth. Your jeans and panties were quick to join the rest of your clothes on the floor and his fingers pressed down on your bundle of nerves.

You had to bite back another whine. Between his teeth tugging on your nipple and his fingertips beginning agonizingly slow circles, you were already coming apart at the seams. Each swirl of his tongue matched the motions against your clit. It ignited every one of your senses, enveloping you in him.

Matt sucked a little harsher, eliciting the moan you were holding back.

And he reveled in it.

While Matt switched his attention to your other tit, he accelerated his circles on your clit.

“God, Matt.” You finally moved your hands from where he’d placed them above your head and tangled them in his hair.

He could hear your heartbeat quickening, hear the unevenness in your breathing as he wound you tighter and tighter with just the tips of his fingers.

“That’s it,” he cooed, replacing his nipping and sucking with soft licks and kisses across your chest. You knew you’d have several marks in the morning, which excited you even more. Matt rubbed harder and faster. “That’s it, baby.”

Your climax crashed into you before you could prepare. Your hands pulled on his hair, loud whining gasp escaping your lips. Matt caught the sound in a kiss, letting it vibrate through him perfectly. He kept up his flicking, figure-eight motions to help you ride out the high.

You tugged his bottom lip between your teeth, draping your arms around his neck. Closer. You needed him closer.

And yet, he pulled away. Matt smiled at your whimper, laying one hand on your cheek and bringing the other to his lips, licking your glisten from his fingers. You turned your head, taking two of his fingers in your mouth, sucking sweetly.

Matt felt something snap inside him. With a deep rumble from his chest, he moved to stand at the foot of the bed, yanking you down to the edge.

You sat up, hands reaching for his belt. You needed him.

Matt pushed you back on the bed quick enough that you bounced on the mattress.

“Not yet,” he smirked, laying an arm across you to hold you down. There was something different about his smile. Something devilish.

Then he knelt in front of you.

Your head fell back against the silk sheets as he bit your inner thigh, soothing the spot with his tongue. He did this up and down your legs, all the while holding you to the bed to keep your hips from bucking and giving you more friction than he allowed.

“Ma-ah-” You gasped as his tongue finally swept up the length of your core.

Matt’s head swam with every detail his heightened senses were taking in. From the taste of you to the way his name fell from your lips fueled his movements. He closed his lips over your clit, spelling your name into the sensitive nerves with his tongue- then spelling his own.

Your core pulsed around nothing, tightening the more wrecked you with his mouth.

“Fuck, Matthew,” you moaned.

Matt lapped at your center, completely taken by the overwhelming burning inside him that you stoked with your noises and your scent and your taste.

You almost screamed with the coming of your second climax, even more intense than the first. The ache inside of you just got worse as you gushed, still empty and needy.

Matt drank in everything you gave him, pushing you as far as you could go.

As he crawled back up to you, your limbs trembling and your heart racing, he kissed you gently, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, afraid he’d gotten carried away.

“I need more,” you pleaded, gulping down breaths. “Please, Matty?”

He smiled that devilish smile again.

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Matty.” You keened, hands trying to reach again for him, but he held you firmly. “I need you inside me.” You pouted your lips. “I need you to hold me.”

Matt kissed you again, this time softer, trailing down your neck as he backed away to take off the rest of his clothes.

You got just a glimpse of him before he laid you on your side and it was enough to have you aching even more.

He laid beside you, holding your back to his chest.

“Okay, baby.”

Matt pushed inside of you, arms locked around your middle. He bit down on your shoulder to contain his moan while your breathless cry rang through the room.

“So good, sweetheart,” he murmured, bringing his hips back. “You feel so good.”

“Just for you, M-Matt.” You laid your head back in the crook of his neck.

Matt snapped his hips back, plunging his cock deeper inside your pulsing walls. “Atta girl.”

You rutted back against him, every movement inside of you bringing a whimper with each brush of his shaft against the blinding spot within.

Matt held you as close to his body as possible, making it harder to tell where he ended and you began. He slipped a hand up to wrap around your throat, turning your face to kiss you. His tongue claimed your mouth while he continued to rock in and out of you. In and out. A perfect, steady rhythm that stayed deep inside your core while being just slow enough to keep you wanting more.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” Matt whispered, saying your name like a sacred prayer.

“God, Matty,” you said, feeling his hand around your throat. “Matt, I’m-” You were cut off by a loud moan when he hit that spot that made you see stars even harder than before.

“I know,” Matt cooed. “I know you want to give me another one. I know, sweetheart.” He gripped your neck a little tighter. “But I need you to wait a little longer.”

“But Matty…” The hot coil inside you constricted more and more.

“I know, baby,” he smirked against your jaw. “Here, I’ll count with you, okay?”

You tried to think past the haze of him. “O-okay, Matt.”

“Alright.” His free hand returned to your clit, making it even harder for you to hold back. “Count with me and I’ll let you come. One.”

You took a shaking breath. “One.”

“Two.”

“T-two.”

This continued his thrusts, getting faster, leaving you both panting by the final count.

“Ten,” Matt growled, nipping the back of your neck, having been struggling to hold on himself.

“Ten,” you exclaimed. “Ten ten ten. Matt please.”

He wicked a line up to your ear, biting the soft flesh there.

“Come for me, Y/N.”

You reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair again as overwhelming shocks of pleasure burned through you like wildfire. As Matt spilled into you, his hips stuttering against your ass, you stopped feeling anything else. Everything was this moment.

Neither of you even had a moment to say anything, completely overcome by pleasant exhaustion.

Matt cradled you to him and you fell asleep tangled with his body. He breathed in your scent, smiling as he let sleep take over him as well.

You woke up to a warm sun and an empty bed. A moment of confusion clouded your tired mind before memories of the night flooded your senses.

Seeing Sam at the bar.

The emptiness in your chest. The nothingness.

Then coming here with Matt…

Matt.

“Oh God.” You sat up, silk sheets slipping over your skin.

You had sex with Matt. Your best friend. Amazing, mind-blowing sex, but at what cost? Was one night worth screwing up years of friendship? And where was he? Was he so disgusted by what you’d done he couldn't bear to be around you anymore?

Those fears consumed you as you scrambled to gather your things and get dressed. You found the living room empty, making your stomach sink even more. The thought hit you like a punch to the gut.

You screwed up the most important relationship in your life… all because you saw your ex at a bar.

How you felt about Matt- feelings you were realizing you had- didn’t matter. You’d fucked everything up.

Matt was climbing the stairs with coffee in hand when he heard the racing, panicked heart in his apartment from a floor down. One thought leaped to the front of his mind.

You regretted everything.

With every hurried step, Matt grew more furious with himself. What was he thinking? He’d let his feelings for you get in the way during a difficult time and now you hated him for it.

He would apologize. He had to. He couldn’t risk the relationship you already had. Even if it meant ignoring how he really felt.

He opened the door with sorry on his lips, but you beat him to it.

“Oh thank God, you’re back,” you sighed. From your tone and the lingering salt in the air, he knew you’d been crying. His fault.

“It is my apartment,” he teased. If he could just get things back to how they were-

“I know, but when I woke up you were gone and-” You took a deep breath. “I understand if this makes things too complicated and you don’t want to speak to me again. I promise I didn’t plan any of this and-”

“Y/N, wait.” Matt interrupted, finally understanding.

It wasn’t regret.

It was fear. Like his. Only, you had just gone through something similar with Sam, which made everything even worse.

“I know you have a lot going on,” you said, trying to hold it together. “I won’t add to that. Not over a-” The words stung as you said them. “Over a pity fuck.”

And just like last night, Matt’s heart broke for you.

“Is that what you thought it was?” Matt asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” You fell back onto the couch and stared at your lap, unable to look at him anymore. “First everything with Sam now I’m going to lo-” You couldn’t finish, sucking in a breath to keep from crying.

Matt crossed the living room and sat beside you. Slowly, carefully, he took your hand in his. He laid it on his chest so you could feel the steadiness of his heart.

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said.

You focused on that heartbeat.

Matt moved his hands to cup your face.

“Last night wasn’t about Sam or the breakup or the bar.” He wiped a tear away with his thumb. “Last night was about us. You and me. And we can make it mean whatever we want it to or nothing at all. But Y/N,” he sighed, “you are not going to lose me.”

You let his words sink in and made yourself believe them, at least right now.

Matt pulled you closer, gently pressing his lips to your forehead.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before you glanced at the table, finally taking in the scent of the coffee.

“So that's where you disappeared to,” you laughed a little at yourself for panicking.

Matt nodded, his hands falling to his lap. “Yeah, I was out and I know how you get without your caffeine.”

“Hey,” you snickered, poking his side.

“I knew I could get a smile.”

You blushed. “How do you even know?”

“Trust me,” he beamed. “I know.”

The two of you decided that you would figure it out at whatever pace you both needed. He was your best friend and you loved each other. And you would no matter what. Still, the prospect of being together, of taking your relationship a step further, excited both of you more than you admitted.

There was, however, a promise Matthew had yet to keep…

So you had enchiladas for breakfast.

#matt murdock x reader #charlie cox #matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil imagines #marvel #matt murdock smut #comfort #hurt and comfort

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