#matt murdock humor

[bellaxgiornata]

Accidents

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Mom!Reader Word Count: 1.7k [Collection Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: fluff, humor, and Matt getting an unwelcome surprise

Summary: While distracted talking to you, Matt forgets the first rule of diaper changes.

a/n: Yet again another blurb that grew into the length of a one-shot... I also couldn't get the mental image out of my head of this happening to Matt, so here you go! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Collection Tag List: @danzer8705 @glowstick-lesbian @flowher @geminadeckerwritesstuff @shiorimakibawrites @beezusvreeland @ebathory997 @maryyymothhh @4happilyeverafter @sleepysleepymom @kezibear @charmedkim @midnightramble @carolinaxvz @1988-fiend @marcysbear

Leaning forward towards your laptop on the coffee table with your legs curled up on the leather couch, you reread the paragraph you’d just typed. For the past few weeks this was where you’d been stationed at home fielding emails from work when you were supposed to be on maternity leave. 

While you'd been working this afternoon, you’d occasionally paused to glance across the living room, your eyes landing on the bassinet that you’d pulled out from the bedroom earlier. Every few minutes you felt compelled to check and make sure your one month old little boy was still peacefully napping. And every time you did, you longed to be finished with the work you weren't even supposed to be doing–let alone thinking about–so you could get back to just spending time with him. 

Releasing a tired sigh, your attention returned to your laptop. As you worked, you became so absorbed in composing the email to your colleague that you hadn’t heard the apartment door open behind you. Neither had you heard Matt hanging up his cane on the wall hook in the entry hall, or the sound of him slipping out of his dress shoes over the loud click click click of your typing. It wasn’t until you felt hands gently landing on your shoulders that you suddenly jumped a couple of inches on the couch in surprise, your head flying over your shoulder as your heart rate spiked.

Matt leaned over the backrest, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Evening, sweetheart,” he greeted.

“Shit, Matt,” you said, throwing a hand over your heart as his hands released you. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“I know,” he replied. “You seemed very deep in concentration.” His brows dipped beneath his dark glasses, his head canting to the side as he paused in thought. “You’re not working again, are you? Because it sort of sounds like you’re working.”

Blowing out an irritated sigh, you nodded. “Try telling my boss that. I swear, every afternoon there’s something she can’t seem to figure out without my help. Though technically what she’s contacting me for isn’t violating any of the terms of my leave, so I can't exactly refuse her.”

Matt’s mouth pulled into a frown as he began to undo the knot of his tie. “Unfortunately,” he muttered. “Though I wish she’d leave you alone. You’re already doing enough as it is.”

“You're not the only one wishing that,” you grumbled.

Turning around and focusing back on your partially written email, you were vaguely aware of Matt making his way around the apartment, slipping out of his suit coat as he walked. But when he paused just in front of the bedroom door, a smile slipping onto his face as his head turned in the direction of the bassinet beside it, your fingers hovered over the keyboard. 

Watching him over the screen of your laptop, a small smile spread onto your own lips. You remembered how he had been so nervous about becoming a father. You remembered all the late nights he'd paced the living room talking a mile a minute, worried about all the what-ifs he feared would happen and how he was afraid of being a disappointment. But even as you’d listened to his nervous chatter, you'd never once doubted him. You’d never questioned the fact that he'd be a great father. 

“Someone’s sleepy,” Matt observed, attention still on the bassinet.

“He’s been out for a couple of hours now,” you told him. “Downed a full bottle of milk and passed right out. Though I give him a couple of minutes before he wakes.” You shook your head, eyes dropping fondly down to your sleeping son. “I swear he’s got a sixth sense or something,” you said. “Because he always knows every single time you come back home.”

“Like father, like son,” Matt joked.

You rolled your eyes as Matt disappeared into the bedroom, sliding his tie out from beneath his collar. Attention returning to your almost finished email, you hoped you could finally write the last paragraph so you could send it and forget about it.

“Hopefully he at least grows a better sense of self-preservation,” you whispered.

Matt chuckled in the bedroom, the sound drawing forth a smile as you continued to work. Though you’d only managed to type a couple of sentences before the sound of soft, irritated cries rose from across the room. Eyes raising from your laptop yet again, you glanced at the bassinet. Sure enough your baby boy was awake.

“I swear, he always knows,” you muttered under your breath. 

Before you could even rise from off the couch, Matt appeared back in the living room. He’d apparently only managed to remove his dress shirt and glasses before he’d been interrupted, leaving him standing there shirtless with the belt buckle on his dress pants undone.

“I’ve got him, sweetheart,” he told you. “Just finish your email. Pretty sure he just needs a diaper change. Nothing I can't handle.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I can get him if you want to finish getting out of your work clothes.”

Matt waved you off as he made his way over to the bassinet. “It’s fine,” he assured you. “Plus, I missed the little guy today.”

Silently you watched Matt, distracted by him bending over the bassinet and scooping your son up into his bare arms. He carried him across the room to the changing table you’d both struggled to set up just before you'd given birth–a comical memory now.

“By the way,” Matt said, gently lowering your son onto the changing table before unsnapping the bottom of his onesie, “Foggy, Marci, and Karen were wondering what time would work best for us to have them stop over this weekend.”

“Oh?” you asked, perking up on the couch. “So they’re finally coming to meet the little guy?”

“Now that things have slowed at the office a little,” Matt said, undoing the dirty diaper on your son as he glanced back over towards you. “Yeah, they were hoping to. Is that alright?”

“More than alright,” you told him. “I could use some company that isn’t a crying baby for once.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed at you. “You have me, don’t you?”

A teasing grin slid onto your face as you fought back a laugh. “I said what I said, Matty.” 

The corners of his mouth curled up into that smartass grin he often had before he hit you with a witty comeback of his own, but before he could retaliate, you saw what Matt failed to notice just a second before he realized what was happening. Eyes going wide, you abruptly pointed at the baby behind him as a stream of fresh piss shot up into the air. It wasn’t until the stream hit Matt square in his bare chest, his mouth dropping open in shock, that he realized his son was peeing on him.

“Not again !” Matt exclaimed, hurriedly focusing back on your son.

Throwing a hand over your mouth to cover your laugh, you rose from the couch and rushed over as Matt fumbled to grab a fresh diaper from beside himself in order to cover your son’s continuing stream. Struggling to fight back your amusement, you couldn’t help but find it funny that this wasn’t even the first time this had happened to him.

“The man without fear indeed,” you said, still choking back your laughter.

“What?” Matt distractedly asked.

“You,” you replied, coming to a stop beside him before lightly pushing him out of the way with your hip. “You're quite fearless to change a baby boy's diaper while repeatedly forgetting to keep him covered so you don't get peed on.”

“Well I was a little distracted,” he grumbled.

You held out a clean baby wipe towards Matt, still biting back the amused smile on your face. Matt accepted the wipe from your hand before beginning to clean off his chest.

“You know,” you began, focusing on finishing the diaper change, “for someone with heightened senses, you’d think out of the pair of us that it would be me who kept accidentally getting peed on. But no. Somehow it's always you.” 

“Hilarious,” Matt deadpanned.

“I think so,” you teased. “But why don't you jump in the shower?” you suggested, picking the baby back up into your arms when you'd finished securing a clean diaper on him. “I'm sure you don't want to smell like pee for the rest of the night.”

Matt stopped wiping at his chest, his hand dropping back to his side as his shoulders slumped. With his attention returning to you, he asked, “You love when this happens, don't you?” 

You shrugged your shoulders, still grinning. “I mean, it's kind of funny how you don't ever seem to learn,” you answered. “Because you’d think after the second or third time you’d remember the dangers of not covering him during a diaper change. Especially after that night last week.”

Matt shook his head, his expression still entirely unamused. “No, not you,” he said. He raised a hand to point a finger at the baby in your arms. “I was asking the little guy.”

Your gaze dropped down to your son before it returned to him. “Matt,” you said, once more struggling to fight down a laugh, “he's barely a month old. He can't even laugh yet. There’s no way he’s doing it for shits and giggles.”

“Uh huh,” he said, turning and making his way towards the bathroom now. “I bet that’s the real reason he always wakes up when I come home.”

Your brows jumped up onto your forehead. “To pee on you?” 

“Yes,” Matt called back over his shoulder, the hint of amusement now in his tone. “Just to pee on me.”

Grinning down at the little boy in your arms, you eyed him curiously. “Is that true?” you cooed at him. “Do you do that on purpose? Did you just wake up to pee on your dad?”

Your son only looked back up at you, his mouth opening wide in a yawn before he slowly closed his eyes again.

“Huh,” you mused, carrying the now sleepy baby back towards the bassinet. “Maybe there’s some merit behind that idea after all.”

[bebx]

Not all heroes wear capes

[skylarmoon71]

Matt Murdock (Daredevil) - Chapter 4

Since that night he would drop by just to check in.

You couldn’t believe that you’d actually befriended a vigilante. A part of you wanted to tell Matt and Foggy, but the danger it could pose for not just him, but them, made you hesitant. So for the time being you decided that it was best to keep it to yourself. 

This particular night he was seated on the floor, legs folded. 

“Your friends sound like great guys.” 

You nod, chewing on your gummy bears. 

“They are! Foggy is by far the funniest guy you will ever meet in your life. Ever since we met he’s always looked out for me. He even turned down a date with a hot girl to look after me when I was sick last year. If you know Foggy, that’s the ultimate sign of love.” 

He smiles. 

“It sounds like he cares about you.” 

“Mhmm, he’s like a brother to me.” 

He knew he shouldn’t tip the boat, but he couldn’t help but ask. He was curious about your opinion of him. 

“What about your other friend?” 

“Mmm, he’s great too.” 

You fidget with the snack now, looking down at your lap. He can spot the hesitance, so now he’s intrigued by the reason. 

“It seems like there might be more to it than that.” 

You twiddle the treat in your hand. 

“It’s nothing bad it’s just..sometimes he comes in with these bruises. Matt is blind you see, so sometimes he gets hurt, but he won’t ask for help. I know he doesn’t want to be a burden to me or Foggy, but we’re his friends. I want to ask him, offer help but I’m scared that I might upset him and if he got mad and stopped talking to me I’d be miserable.” 

You lower your head, and he nods in understanding. 

“If he’s as great as you say, then he won’t be upset if you’re trying to look out for him. Maybe just talk to him, he sounds like a reasonable person.” 

“You’re right, Matt is nice, if I just talk to him, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. Thanks Mr. Daredevil. You should really become a therapist, you’re a good listener. Well, I guess given your side job it might be a bit difficult huh?” 

He can’t help but smile. 

“Yeah, it might be.” 

You grin, throwing a gummy bear and he catches it easily. 

“Geez sometimes your reflexes are insane. I would have missed that. Look.” 

You threw one in the air with the intention to catch it in your mouth, but it bounces off your nose and onto the floor. 

“See!!” 

He starts laughing. 

“You just need to focus a little better, watch.” 

He threw his own in the air and with one easy move to the left, it dropped right into his mouth. 

“Easy.” 

He chewed and you just glared at him playfully. 

“You’re like a ninja, I don’t think it counts.”

“It sounds like you’re a sore loser.” 

“Am not!!” 

It was nice, being the one he seemed to confide in. Those nights were great. Just having someone to talk to. The following morning you meet Matt in the library. With Daredevil’s advice in mind, you walked right up to him. 

“Hey Matt.” 

He turned at your call, a smile stretching on his face. 

“Hey.”

You could do it, all you have to do is ask if he needs help. 

“I can do this, I can do this!” 

With the pep talk, you finally get the words out. 

“I-I’m worried about you. You’ve been getting hurt a lot and I just wanted to let you know that if you ever need help, Foggy and I are here for you.” You hoped that you’d gotten your point across without somehow offending him. The easy smile he gave you made your anxieties just wash away. 

“I appreciate it. Since you’re offering, I wanted to check out that sandwich place across the street. Do you mind?” He held out his hand and you nod excitedly. 

“Of course, let’s go!” 

Linking arms, you walked away with him, making a mental reminder to thank Daredevil for his sound advice. Turns out vigilantes were good at more than just kicking criminal butt. 

[pastafossa]

Preview of Angsty In-Progress TRT What If fic

Right so there won't be a chapter cause I'm still in Covid Brain Fog Town, Population: Me which is affecting my writing (I've gotten a bit written but it's slow going). But I have found time to edit that sad thing I'd been working on BEFORE getting sick and I'm planning to release that because I think it works as a really good illustration of just what the stakes are in TRT if they get this wrong. AKA: a what-if, in which all their preparations fail and Jane is taken (spawned by an ask in my box that's been chewing at my brain for months now).

This will be a really dark and angsty side-fic, and the ending won't be happy per se, although I'm planning to give a little hope at the end since I'm not a COMPLETE monster, but I don't expect everyone to read it regardless and am designing it so there's no need to if you'd prefer to stick to TRT canon. BUT if you DO want to read something like this, here's a preview of the first section.

Warnings for: angst (obviously), blood, reference to shock collars.

Preview wordcount: around 1k

Putting this behind a cut.

Sad Matt gif cause this part's from his POV and it will not be fun.

There should have been a fight. 

That had always been the plan, an unspoken agreement the moment you’d decided to stay. You’d all known the Man in the White Coat, Cyrus James, would come to town eventually. It was an inevitability, a reality, and it was one you’d prepared for. Slowly, you’d gathered in your allies, armor composed of S.H.I.E.L.D., of the Ferryman, of the Punisher and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and even Spider-Man, had you asked. There’d been plans and backup plans, alarm systems and fail safes. And just in case that still wasn’t enough, you and Matt had taken to practicing, over and over and over again, all the ways you could signal him should your hunter slip through the cracks. 

It was foolproof. 

It should have been foolproof. That was what you’d all believed. 

You were all wrong. So terribly, terribly wrong.

This isn’t how it was supposed to happen. 

There was no battle. 

It’s my fault. 

No war along the familiar streets that had become your home. 

I should have sensed him. 

There’d been no signal given. No warning, no alarm that rang out, not when you were walking home after a late case. 

Caught alone in the dark.

Where are you, sweetheart? Please, just give me something, anything—

You didn’t even have time to scream, they said.

Not physically, anyway.

He’d felt your fear before on occasion, when you reached for him psychically. Then, your presence felt like the frantic bite of your nails in his skin, tasted like the sharp tang of cold sweat and burning adrenaline, sounded like the stuttered racing of your heart, a drumbeat in his ears that never failed to set his own heart racing as he cast his senses out, hunting for threat-threat-threat and for those that dared to harm you. He’d felt your fear when you woke in the quiet dark of the apartment, and when you’d been trapped beneath the warehouse in a cruel, dusty cell. He’d felt it, too, that night Frank had chased after you. 

He thought he’d known the flavor of your fear. 

But those moments were nothing compared to the moment your deepest, darkest fear became… real. 

The deafening psychic scream that tore through the thread with all the force of a hurricane was like nothing he’d felt before, or ever would again. That storm was all-consuming, the world around him gone in a heartbeat as the sudden wave brought him to his knees, his mouth shocked open on a silent shout. He could barely breathe through that terrified tide, one cold as bitter ice, your panicked heartbeat less a drumbeat than a constant roar in his ears as your panic rolled through him. This was the tremor of muscle and blind, animalistic instinct, the last, desperate sprint of a doomed hare just before the hawk’s talons cinched shut against the back of its neck.

This wasn’t fear. That was too small a word.

It was sheer, absolute terror. 

And in that terror, you managed only a single word. 

“Matt, h—”

You never got a chance to finish. Instead, he was struck by a blinding surge of electricity, white-hot coils of lightning snaking around his throat before locking tight. That shock raced outwards from there, traveling along lines of hidden nerves and thick muscle until his whole body locked up in agony. It was impossible to writhe, to thrash, to fight. All he could do was scream, mindless and furious, your terror matched only by his surge of rage, rage that covered his own wave of terror. Because he knew. He knew, distantly, what this was, and what this meant. 

The collar. 

Just as quickly as it came, the connection was gone, leaving him with nothing but the steady drip of blood from his nose and a ringing in his ears.

He wanted to retch, his stomach roiling, but there was no time. 

It can’t end like this. 

The directional signal he’d gotten from you was worthless. Even when he found where you’d been snatched off the street, they’d left him nothing but droplets of your blood and a fading snatch of cigarette smoke, a poor cover for the faint chemical scent lingering in the alley. Tranquilizers, he’d learn later, meant to knock you out, make you tame enough to be bound, collared, and forced into the back of a van. From there, your scent vanished into the night. 

Caught. Collared. 

Taken.

There was supposed to be more time. 

More time for him in your arms and you in his. 

More quiet touches in the early morning, and laughter in the kitchen, at Fogwell’s, on warm rooftops and cold ones, too. 

Time for him to slip a ring on your finger, and for his name to twine with yours, joyful tears in both your eyes as he pressed his lips to yours on the day you finally became his wife, the keeper of his soul, and he the keeper of yours, for all the rest of your days.

Why hadn’t he asked you?

He should have asked you.

Our rocking chairs should be red, you’d said sleepily last night, when we’re old. 

He should have been faster. 

Stronger. 

Smarter.

“All this, all this that we have here, that you love, is at risk. It always is when I stop. He takes this from me every time, Matt."

He should have protected you. 

He’d promised you he’d keep you safe. 

“No one will take you. I won’t let them, no matter what I have to do to stop them. What happened before—you didn’t have me. I’ll hear him coming from a mile away. We’ll be prepared for him."

“Ciro promised me the same thing. And he was wrong.”

He’d… promised. 

“I promise. I’ll find them before they even get close.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, D.”

And he’d failed.

The Devil’s roar of anguish, of grief, and of absolute agony shook the very bones of the city. 

By that point, you were too far away to hear it. 

It would be seven months before he found you again.

[farfromstrange]

Incorrect Quotes Thursday Day: ?

Matt: I made lightly fried fish fillets for dinner.

Foggy: Matt, It’s 1:15 am, what the fuck.

Matt: Do you want the lightly fried fish fillets or not.

Foggy: Well, I mean yeah.

Matt: So come downstairs while they’re still hot.

Foggy: Wait, you just made them?

Matt: Yeah, I wasn’t tired so I decided to make lightly fried fish fillets.

Foggy: Say lightly fried fish fillets one more time, Matt.

[usaigi]

I think it's funny if Frank isn't religious but remembers verses from the Bible just to antagonize Matt.

Matt, hasn't slept in 48 hours, living off of Redbull and peanut butter, just lost another gf, once again got his ass beat by Fisk, bleeding out: Just kill me.

Frank: Red. 1 Kings 19

Matt: Shut up.

Frank: Go to fucking sleep.

[pastaxandria]

The Red Thread: Chapter 145

The Library of Pastaxandria has recorded for its shelves: Chapter 145 of The Red Thread.

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Chapter Summary:

“The only thing I’ll be in danger of while you’re gone is boredom.” You waved him off, as if you didn’t climb walls and contemplate chewing furniture like a trapped border collie when you had nothing to do. He snorted and drew you in, and you draped your arms around his shoulders, doing your best to sound innocent. “I’ll find something to do.”

At your tone, though, a series of alarm bells began to ring in his mind. He clenched his jaw, trying to give you a look. “I’m not saying you have to do nothing, but you need to stay within Claire’s list of activities for stage one of a concussion. Foggy and Karen even had some stuff delivered last night that was on the list.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to follow the list."

Or: you try to follow the rules of concussion care.

Wordcount: 4,692

Warnings for this chapter: some slightly NSFW humor but other than that, you’re good to go!

Read me on AO3 because that’s where penguins hang out

Matt, seen here very reluctantly preparing to leave you for the day

[themculibrary]

There's another one where Foggy's family adapts Matt or another super sad and emotional one from Matt pls

is it this fic?

He Has a Few Complexes (ao3) - telm_393 T, 23k

Summary: In which Matt Murdock does not need nice things or non-essential feelings such as happiness, and Foggy Nelson is an unexpected (and vaguely bemused, though mostly skeptical) addition to the ongoing saga of 'Matthew Murdock Walks Alone'.

- Tori

[imposterogers]

Know nothing about Matt Murdock, but your posts convinced me he and Jim Gordon (from Gotham specifically) would be best buds were they to meet, different universes aside. Why be full-time vigilante or full-time lawyer/cop when you can be part-time both. Big "It's just a flesh wound" energy

jim & matt, both different fonts of self-sacrificing practically suicidal stubborn bastards who are the definition of 'fucks around and finds out' & have managed to piss off criminals, politicians, the entire police force, and crime bosses: do u want to form an alliance w me

foggy, karen, harvey bullock, anyone else that knows them personally watching the formation of a disaster danger duo: oh no. oh no no no

[n-m-and-p-avocados-at-law]

So I’m not 100% sure how I would feel about Jen being in Born Again. I think it largely depends on if they could adapt her character like they did Matt’s for She-Hulk to match the tone of the show. I’m even less sure how I would feel about her interacting with someone like Frank or the other NMCU titular characters.

BUT, if she is in the show and does meet Frank when Matt’s around, I think it would be hilarious if she was like, “Ah, yes, the Punisher, of course I know who you are,” just to mess with Matt since he was miffed about the fact that she didn’t initially know who Daredevil was. If she didn’t know about Daredevil before meeting Matt, I doubt she knew about the Punisher, but presumably the Frank Castle case would have come up when she researched Matt, so...

I also think it would be super funny if something like this happened with any of the Defenders, but Jessica in particular since she seemed to have the most fun roasting Matt (would her and Luke “kidnapping” Matt come up on a Google search of his name?).

[sinvulkt]

Spider-gwen comics

[whumpprentice]

oh this is my boyfriend *gestures to a very sweaty and feverish man wearing a tattered overcoat that is stained with something red, swaying back and forth, looking like he's about to faint* he's shy *an ax falls out and clanks loudly on the floor. there's blood on his socks*

[skylarmoon71]

Matt Murdock (Daredevil) - Chapter 12

Longer Post: 2K+ Words (With a little bit of spicy). You have been warned XD. Enjoy!

“Matt, I got a 93 on my final!” 

You were dancing the second you stepped into his dorm and he lifted his head from the seat on his bed. Foggy looked like he was getting ready to head out. 

“What a shock, the nerd got an A. I'm stunned.” Foggy says sarcastically. 

“I think it’s great. Good job (Y/N).” 

“Thank you Matt, it’s nice to be appreciated. I get that not all of us can be geniuses.” You elbowed Foggy and he just laughed pushing at your forehead. The force caused you to fall back onto his bed. 

“You punk!” 

He was already hightailing out of the room. When you finally got up, he’d already dashed out the door. 

“One of these days I’ll take him out with my muscular physique.” 

Matt is smiling from his spot. 

“I think you did that last time with the John Cena move. “ 

“Hah, you’re right. He was sore for days.” 

The memory is a nice one. You walk over to see what Matt’s doing. There’s a book in front of him and you stare as he runs his fingers along the pages. You’ve seen him study many times, but it’s always amazing to you. You know it’s a bit impolite to stare, but you can’t help it. 

“I can feel you staring.” 

You straighten in your spot, not moving a muscle. Matt just leans his head to one side. 

“Did you just freeze in place?” 

“If I don’t move, you can’t hear me.” 

He starts laughing and you join in when he closes the book, placing it on the desk next to his bed. 

“Come here.” 

He opens his arms and you trot over. Dropping right onto the bed, you hug him. Matt places a kiss on your cheek and you flush, smiling. No matter how many kisses you shared, you still became bashful being close to him like this. 

“Summer break is coming up, do you know what you’re going to do?” 

Matt nods. 

“There’s a job opening at the library for summer tutoring. I’m a pretty good teacher so I figured I’d put it to use. What about you?” 

“I’ll be in the Dean’s office. I’ll go home for a week when finals are done, but then I’ll come back. My dad misses treating me like a wounded kitten and my mom keeps cooking like I'm still at home.” 

“Sounds like they’ll be happy to see you.” 

“Mhmmm. I just need to make sure they don’t try to keep me there longer than I intended to like last time. My dad is pretty good at bribes.” 

“I bet.” 

You lay back against his chest, just enjoying the feel of him. 

“Wait, where did Foggy go?” You ask. 

“To see his girlfriend, I think.” 

“Wow, that guy is obsessed, I swear.” 

“I don’t know, if she’s half as amazing as mine, then I can fully understand it.” 

His smooth words have you blushing. You pull back just a little, and you can already see that little smirk on his lips.

“You’re really good at sweet talking me Murdock.” 

“I’d hope so, I wouldn’t be much of a boyfriend if I wasn’t.” 

You giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips and he leans in. Matt shifts on the bed, and soon you’re on your back. He parts for a second, giving you a chance to catch your breath and him an opportunity to remove his glasses. Once it’s gone, he turns back to you and you swallow, right before your lips rejoin.

You’ve become a lot more comfortable since the little make out session on your couch. Even so, there’s still a bit of hesitation. His kisses are deep, passionate. You can feel that he wants more. You push lightly against his chest and Matt pulls back. 

“What’s wrong?” 

It’s a whisper, and when he brushes your cheek, you can spot the worry. You hate that you’re making him feel like he’s done something wrong. Truthfully you should have told him about your lack of experience. Maybe you wouldn’t feel so uneasy about the whole thing. 

“It’s nothing you did, I just..” 

You’re not sure how to word it without sounding like a prude. Matt just offers a smile. 

“It’s okay if you’ve never done this before. We can wait until you’re ready.” 

You’ll never understand how he so easily reads you, but you’re more than grateful. You press your hands over your eyes, thoroughly embarrassed. 

“I-I’m sorry. I-I should have said something I just really didn’t want to mess this up.” 

Matt shakes his head, pulling your hands away softly as he leaves a kiss on your forehead. When he pulls back, that smile is so bright. 

“You’re not going to mess up anything. I like this, the way that we are. I’m not planning on going anywhere anytime soon, are you?” 

You shook your head. 

“Then we’ll both be fine. We have all the time in the world.”

How you snagged someone like Matt is still a mystery to you. He leaves one more kiss on the top of your head before he moves to straighten, but you grab his arm, halting him. 

“W-Wait!” 

He pauses, still somewhat leaned over you. Elbows against the mattress, he just waits. 

“I-Is there something else..that we can do?” 

Your voice is soft, almost a whisper. He can spot the embarrassment behind the question and he easily picks up on the way your heart rate has doubled as you await his reply. Your innocence when it comes to the topic is very endearing. You turn your head.

“I-I read somewhere that there are other ways for two people to..y-you know. Without t-that stuff..” 

The more you speak the cuter you seem to get. He has to stop himself from laughing. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s mocking you. The entire situation is just adorable. He wishes he could see just how red your face is right now. 

“You’ll have to be very specific, tell me what you want me to do.” 

He knows exactly what you’re asking, but he wants to hear you say it. As naive as you are about this, to some extent you must know what you want. 

You gulp, eyes moving from his lips, then down to his hands. You feel like a mouse under him. Completely captured. 

“I..I want you to touch me Matt. D-Down there..” 

You’re not sure why it sounds ten times dirtier out loud. 

The smile makes its way back onto his face and he adjusts his position to become a bit more comfortable at your side. You’re not really sure what to expect. You’re just glad that you’re wearing a decent pair of underwear today. You had a tendency to sport boxer shorts. Today you’re indeed wearing panties and a pair of shorts. You’ve never been more grateful, because if this was going to happen, you’d prefer it to be at least a bit sexy. 

“If you change your mind, I’ll stop immediately, okay?” 

You nod, and Matt brushes your hair away from your eyes as he leaves another encouraging kiss on your cheek. Your heart is still hammering, because all of his movements feel so slow. His hand starts from your cheek. He smiles and you return it when he slowly goes down your body. It feels like he’s trying to appreciate every inch of you. Your shoulder, arm, finger tips, breast, torso, hip..

You close your eyes when his fingers slide under the waistband of your shorts. 

“What color are your panties?” 

It’s a whisper in your ear. 

“R-Red.” 

He smirks, nipping at your ear and you bite down on your lip. 

“That’s my favorite color.” 

You can’t stop the moan that escapes, he just chuckles and when his hand finally makes it where you need it to most, your eyes shoot open. His fingers have stopped right at your entrance and you reach over, grabbing at the front of his shirt as you lean into him. He welcomes it, expects it. 

He strokes, slowly, he wants you to get used to the feeling. Your body quivering against his hand is all the confirmation he needs. You’re letting out soft sounds. A moan, a gasp, a whimper. It all sounds so delicious. He wonders if it’s possible that his heightened senses have enhanced all the sounds, because it’s like music to his ears. 

The friction of his fingers is starting to cause a reaction. There’s a subtle wetness that’s beginning to become present. He licks his lips and you seem unprepared when he kisses you deeply. You let out another moan and he holds in one himself. He lectured himself not to get too worked up. 

He didn’t want to scare you, but now it seems almost impossible because he’s already started to stiffen in his pants. Your closeness doesn’t really help. He pulls back when your hips grind into him. With a gasp he withdraws his hand. Your lips are still parted and you look at him with a mix or arousal and confusion. 

“D-Did I do something wrong?” 

He shook his head, swallowing as he tried his best to cover the bulge that was now throbbing between his groin. The covers were a nice barrier, but you were still impossibly close. 

“No..y-you didn’t do anything wrong I just need a minute.” 

He was trying to find a way to slip away into the bathroom without you seeing his problem. 

“Matt just tell me what’s-” 

Your words stopped and he heard the shift against the covers. Your eyes were aimed right at his crotch.

“Oh wow..” 

He grimaced, with every intention to just dive off the bed, but you grabbed his arm, stopping all movement.

“W-Wait where are you going?” 

“I..I need to handle this before we continue.” 

“Handle..” 

As in he was going to..

Your cheeks warmed. When you started this, you had every intention of letting him take the lead. But now, you sort of want to know what it’s like. He’d only been touching you for maybe three minutes at most, but you were sure you were about to lose your mind. You can’t help but wonder what Matt would look like in such a state. 

“C-Can I do it?” 

You saw the way his brows furrowed, like he was trying to make sense of what you were asking. He must have settled on a solution, because the crease evened out. 

“You don’t have too.” 

His voice sounded deeper, heavy, like just the conversation was a task for him. He tried to move away again, but you gripped a bit tighter. 

“I want to. I do. Please Matt.” 

His head sank into the pillow at the plea. How was he supposed to say no to that? Just the thought of your hand wrapped around his length had his gut tightening with anticipation. 

“Please.” 

He nodded, letting out a breath. 

“Okay.” 

He sounded a bit more calm now, and you smile, releasing him now that he didn’t look like he was going to make a run for it. His body relaxed and you just stared as his hand moved to the button of his jeans. Your eyes were strictly focused on his crotch and Matt chuckled under his breath. 

“It’s a bit daunting if you’re staring so intensely.” 

You flinch. 

“O-Oh! Sorry.” 

You looked up and Matt laughed again. You could still hear the rustling of his clothing against the sheets. The little sound he let out under his breath must have meant that he’d gotten just a bit off relief from his restricting clothing. 

“Here.”

He reached for your hand, and when he placed it carefully along his length, your mouth fell open. You kept your eyes focused on him. His breathing had picked up a little, hand over yours, guiding you. 

“Just stroke it like this.” 

He made slow gestures and you followed each action, every instruction. 

“Just like that..” He hummed. 

His eyes closed and you took in the way he seemed to melt against the bed. He pulled his hand away when he felt comfortable with your actions. His lips were slightly parted and you could feel yourself becoming wet just at the sight of him. 

The pleasure was written so clearly across his face. It was better than you expected. You’re so used to the smug or smiling Matt. This expression on his face was exquisite. Your motions only slowed when you felt something begin to drip on your hand. You looked down, eyes taking in everything. His length, girth, it was all so arousing. 

“A little came out…” 

Matt nodded, and you loosened your hold to stare at the liquid now coating your fingers. You were distracted, and you weren’t sure why, but your lips twitched at the sight. Your pause caught Matt’s attention. 

“(Y/N)..?” 

You hadn’t said anything, and he heard your hand lift. For a moment he wasn’t sure what happened. But the sound of your tongue brushing against the skin of your fingers had his eyebrows lifting in surprise. 

“Did you just-” 

“You taste good Matt.” 

Your words were like a jolt. He almost came right there and then. He didn’t expect it when your hands reached over and pushed him flat onto his back. He was practically gaping and when you started kissing your way down his body, he was almost convinced that he’d taken one too many punches to the head and the effects were starting to set in. One of your hands pushed up his shirt and when he felt your lips on his chest, he held back a shiver. 

“(Y-Y/N) w-wait you..” 

He couldn’t get the words out. The lower you got, the less he felt the need to stop you. His mind was clouded by pleasure. He knew he should have been stopping you. At least that’s what he told himself. This was supposed to be your experience, not his. Your tongue circled a pattern right on his hip and he gripped at the sheets, breathing labored. He was responding to everything, reacting to everything. 

Your hand finally took a hold of him, soft, almost tentative. Clearly due to your inexperience, you weren’t trying to hurt him. Your touches were careful. He had a second to recall what he’d planned to say. Before he could form the words, your mouth covered over the tip of him and he all but lost his mind. Your tongue ran over the slit and he moaned, louder than he intended too. You hummed at the sound, clearly satisfied with his reaction. Your tongue was tracing patterns over the tip of him as your hand started to pump slowly. 

“Fuck!” 

He hadn’t intended to curse, it just slipped out and when he heard the sound that you released, the vibrations traveled throughout his body. He had to physically force himself not to jerk into your mouth. For someone with no experience, you were doing great. 

You couldn’t take the full length of him into your mouth, and he found himself a bit grateful because if you did, he was concerned that his senses might go into overdrive and shut down. His entire body was a trembling mess as you increase your pace. You were bobbing your head slowly against him, while you continued your careful pumps. 

The simultaneous action felt like too much. He wouldn’t last long like this. He was already at his limit. Maybe you knew, because you drew him in maybe just an inch deeper than the last and his hand moved to the back of your head. He gripped your tresses when his releases came. His intention had been to pull you back, but you offered resistance. 

He couldn’t stop it, he came, emptying himself into your mouth. His hand dropped and you finally pulled back with a soft pop. His body sagged against the covers, chest still rising a bit quicker than normal. When he turned his head, all he caught was the sound of you swallowing. He groaned at the realization that you’d just swallowed every last drop. 

You licked the edge of your lips, admiring his disheveled form. His hair was a beautiful mess, shirt partially covering his chest, pants and briefs settled around his mid thigh. His muscles were relaxing and contracting with each breath he took. 

You couldn’t recall ever seeing anything so breathtaking in your life. 

“I came.” You confessed. 

Your shorts had been discarded, but your underwear now had a significant wet spot at the center. Matt pressed a hand over his eyes, still fighting to gather his bearings. It’s like you’d just deliver one surprise attack right after the other. 

He underestimated you, that was for sure.

[twilight-deviant]

I have this image in my head where Fisk and Matt's child wants to be a superhero for Halloween. Which is why Matt waited until day-of for the reveal. Fisk is not a fan. xD

Including costumed parents option? lol. Sure. (Fisk is taking the Daredevil horns off after they leave.)

[farfromstrange]

Late Night Talking | m.m

A Foreigner’s God one-shot

Can be read without having read the series!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!oc [but I don’t use descriptions, so think of her as you will]

Summary: Three times Eliza wakes up in the middle of the night to ask Matt random questions and the one time he has an important question to ask.

Warnings: in this one, they’re already in an established relationship. no warnings, this is just pure fluff

a/n: We’ve all asked us this question at least once, don’t try to deny it. Also, I wrote this to recover from the angst I’m about to drop. You’re welcome.

The first time it happened, he didn’t think much of it. Sometimes, you think about the weirdest things at night. He knew that.

“Matt?”

His eyes were closed, she wasn’t sure if he was even still awake. He laid next to her on the bed, chest rising and falling with every breath he took. Moments of calmness were rare for him.

His nose twitched at the sound of her voice. “Hm?” he signaled he was listening.

Eliza switched position, propping herself up on her elbow next to him. It was dark in their shared bedroom, though she could still make out his features.

“I have a question,” she said, still hesitant.

He once again only hummed, “Hm?”

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

His eyes snapped open. “What?” Suddenly, he was wide awake and responsive.

“You heard me.”

“Would I- would I still love you if you were a worm?”

“Yes.”

He stuttered. “What kind of question is that?”

“The important kind,” she said.

“You know what time it is?”

“I do, but I can’t sleep until I have an answer.”

“Jesus, okay. You wanna know what I think?”

“Yes.”

“If I met you when you were already a worm, I wouldn’t be able to love you because I can’t have feelings for an insect.”

Her jaw dropped.

“But if you were to turn into a worm right now,” he continued, index finger raised to signal he wasn’t done yet, “I would buy you a terrarium and create a little habitat for you to live in. I would feed you everyday, play your favorite music and carry you around whenever I go on walks. So my answer is yes, I would still love you if you were a worm. Your looks would change, but you’d still be in there and it’s you I love, not your appearance.”

She stared for a moment before nodding, “Good answer.”

Eliza pulled the covers over her body and up to her chin, turning around so her back faced him and she could snuggle into the pillows.

Matt raised his eyebrows. “So that’s it?” he said. “You ask me a random question and just go back to sleep?”

Her soft snoring from the one blocked nostril she had answered his question.

With a sigh, he curled against her body, molding against his little spoon. “I’m in love with an idiot,” though as he said it, he had the biggest, drowsiest and loving smile on his face.

The second time she woke him at three in the morning, he was a little less pleased. Her voice reached his sleeping brain only faintly.

“Pretty fucked up that we depict the moon as a girl and the sun as a boy,” she said, voice quiet in the comfort of the dark. “They're just floating rocks in space. Matt? Wake up, Matt!” She shook him. “Listen! They're sexless!

He grunted. He turned on his back, away from her, then back on his side. He adjusted his pillow. She could tell he was annoyed.

“The sun isn't a rock,” he said, “go back to sleep.”

“Okay.”

The third time, he almost threw her out of the bed.

“How do tall people possibly sleep at night when the blanket can't possibly cover you?” she asked.

He was only light asleep.

She turned to look at him. Her face was so close, he could feel her breath fan his face. She smelled of her peppermint toothpaste and the silk sheets. Her nose almost nudged him and at one point Matt half-expected her to lick his cheek.

“Eliza, it's four o'clock in the morning,” he grumbled.

She hummed. “So, you can't sleep, huh? Is it because of the blanket?”

“Eliza, I love you but for the love of God, shut up!”

He felt her pout. Her head fell back into the pillows, defeated, and she turned on her back to (probably) fantasize some more. He didn’t care. His eyelids fluttered close and thanks to the sound of her heartbeat he fell back asleep.

The fourth time, it wasn’t Eliza who asked the weird question.

Foggy had invited Matt to Josie’s for a night out. By the time she went to bed, he was still at the bar, probably playing his fifth round of pool and completely ruining Foggy. He always did.

A loud thud woke her. She shot up, turning on the bedside lamp Matt had gotten for her. The man stood in the doorway, barely holding onto the frame.

“Matt?” she asked groggily.

“Shhh,” he slurred. “My girlfriend’s asleep.”

She frowned. He reeked of alcohol and the way he spoke told her he was tipsy. Way past that, actually.

“Is she now?” she decided to entertain him.

Matt nodded. He pulled at the buttons of his dress shirt, failing miserably to take it off, so he merely grunted and threw himself on the bed. He missed the mattress though, falling right to the floor.

Eliza peeked over the edge of the bed, eyes squinted. “You okay there, sweetie?” she asked.

He muttered something inaudible. “Hey Eliza?” he said.

She sighed, propped up on her elbow to watch him. “Yeah?”

“What's your favorite color of the alphabet? True or false?”

“...What?”

“The answer is triangle,” he stated.

“I have no idea what that means,” she said.

“Me neither.”

“Cool. Can you come to bed now?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

He didn’t make it to the bed. His eyes fluttered shut. Next thing she knew, he was snoring, dead asleep on the ground.

Eliza sighed again, throwing the blanket on the ground, followed by the pillows. She got up, using what little space was left between Matt and the wall, and pulled the blanket over them. One pillow went under his head, the other underneath her own. She draped an arm over his torso, tangling her legs with his. If he wasn’t going to bed, she would bring the bed to him.

Subconsciously, he hummed and hugged her closer to him.

She was about to fall back asleep when he piped up again. She hadn’t even realized he was still awake.

“Eliza?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“What do you think is the best organ?”

“The best organ?” she repeated.

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“Heart.”

“No, kidney. ‘Cause it’s shaped like a kidney.”

“Okay.”

“Hey,” he leaned up a little with an adorable frown on his face that made her bite her lip. “Why are we on the floor?”

“‘Cause you fell,” Eliza stated.

Matt frowned even deeper. “Did I?”

“Yes.”

“Oh… Are you single?”

“No,” she sounded exasperated at this point.

“Oh. Do you want to have sex? No, wait! Adultery is a sin.” He gasped, “I’m an adulterous whore!”

She slapped his chest. “You’re not.”

“I am. I can’t ask a taken person to have sex with me. I mean, you have a boyfriend.”

“You are my boyfriend.”

“I am?” He looked like a boy on Christmas Day. “Yay.”

“Yes, yay. Are you done now? Can we go to sleep?”

“Yes,” he said. His forehead crinkled in absolute concentration. “No, wait! I just realized something. Kidney bowls are named kidney bowls ‘cause they’re shaped like kidneys. There is so much stuff shaped like kidneys. Even Cashews resemble kidneys. We all have two of them. Two kidneys in case one stops working, and when one stops working another person can donate their second kidney. They save lives, Eliza. Kidneys save lives! And that’s why kidneys are the best organ.”

He sounded as if he was holding a presentation on the best organ. All he needed was something to underline his words.

“Wow,” she played along, “You should have made a PowerPoint for that.”

“I would,” he said, “but I’m blind. I don’t know how to make a PowerPoint ‘cause I can’t see.”

“Go to sleep, Matthew.”

“You’re not the boss of me.” Matt shoved her away and sat up. “I’m going dancing!”

Eliza tugged at his arm. “No, you’re not.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Matt.”

Once he stood, he realized why she told him not to go. His head started spinning and he barely managed to catch himself on the bed before he quite literally passed out.

“I moved to the floor because of your drunk ass,” she grumbled as she scrambled to get the blanket and pillows back on the bed.

Still, she kissed him on the cheek like every night before going to bed. If anything, his weirdness only made him more lovable in her eyes.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

[shiorimakibawrites]

Dicta

As previously mentioned, I had a germ of an idea for a ficlet involving dicta. Here it is.

DICTA

They were studying for their end of year exams when Matt got a bee in his bonnet about something in one of the opinions they were reviewing - Foggy couldn't remember which, there were so many of them . . .

“Relax Matt, it's just dicta, not the holding,” Foggy said.

“Well, that dicta is flaccid,” Matt retorted.

And just like that, they were laughing. And just like they were seeing how many dick jokes they could make about dicta. The answer was all of them. All of the dick jokes. By the time they got control of themselves, their ribs were sore and their faces wet with tears. They had lost over a hour of study time but Matt was smiling, his real smile where the dimples came out so Foggy considered it time well spent.

The only downside was that, afterward, it took monumental effort not to snicker every time their professors said “dicta.”

END NOTES

Dicta (or dictum) is a statement in a judicial opinion not necessary for the decision of the case. Dicta differs from the holding because it does not establish a rule binding the courts in subsequent cases (source: Barron's Dictionary of Legal Terms Fifth Edition by Steven H. Gifis).

Not a lawyer or a law student so I'm hope I’m understanding it right.