#matt murdock imagines
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jaggedamethyst · 2 days ago
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matt murdock with that one girl who randomly stops coming to class
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(im bored before bed so here’s me satiating that desire to write something, idk what to call this but here)
over the years matt has become insanely skilled, and i think in his college years he potentially was still learning about himself…despite already having trained for years.
i like to think that he’s easily enraptured by more faint scents—ones where she so clearly was in a rush, hardly got herself ready for class. he’d let himself be excited by her story, making up the plot points of her day based on whatever he could smell or hear. every day was a new arc and he’d yearned to be part of it.
i imagine matt in college as someone who would get so caught up in her presence and imagining traits about her, that he’d forget that they were solely made up by him. he’s always inches away from talking to this girl, but talks himself out of it.
being caught up in this carousel of fantasy means that when the day arrives that she just stops coming to class, he loses his shit.
without thinking he would search popular spots, most of which he’d reasoned she’d never actually be at. he let himself imagine that she was an introvert; almost always ate the same thing, wore the same comfortable fabrics, and rarely strayed away from a signature hairstyle.
he knew all this about her, yet she didn’t even know he existed.
i imagine matt murdock to finally calm when he senses her—the faint rattle of her breath as she rushed into class. it had been weeks…and he wondered where she was.
maybe he’d ask her today.
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dameronology · 1 month ago
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hcs for the daredevil guys and when you argue??
mmm yes angst
matt murdock
matt is only willing to engage in verbal combat over one thing and one thing only: your safety
he has a lot of priorities - his religion, his jobs, justice, his friends - but nothing, and i mean nothing will come above you
you and matt have differing opinions on what you consider to be putting yourself in danger. in his mind, just going out after dark is basically putting a target on your back.
it doesn't take a lot to come to blows because matt cares just too damn much. he won't ever budge on the matter, and he won't yell either
no matter how much you push and prod and press at his buttons, he's stoic on the matter. snappy and huffy maybe, but it's like trying to argue with a brick wall.
you know it's because he cares but hell, it's annoying when you can't go out after dark to get some ice cream from the shop that's literally on your block.
it's not until after, when you've stomped off to bed with your back turned to the door, and matt slips in beside you; despite your best attempts to block him, his arms will snake round your back and pull you to his chest with a soft kiss to the neck
"i just can't lose you"
the argument doesn't last much longer after that
frank castle
you and frank bicker about 25 times a day. only 20 of those times are about him leaving the toilet seat up.
arguing, though?? that actually doesn't happen a lot. even though frank's fuse is shorter than danny devito, he has never once even come close to losing his temper with you
in fact, one time you tried to start an argument with you and frank just laughed. he laughed, because really you own his ass and anything that could lead to a fight just isn't worth it to him
so maybe it means that frank sometimes loses a compromise, but it doesn't matter to him because it's meant that you're happy
and really, that's the most important thing. frank has lost everyone he's loved this far in his life and so he will do literally anything to make sure that when you leave for work in the morning, you're on good terms. just in case - and god forbid - anything happens.
frank isn't even embarrassed by the fact he will keel over so easily for you
actually, he's quite proud of it
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cyripticchronicler · 5 months ago
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Hiii I have a request for Matt Murdock I was thinking him with an reader who’s job has gotten more stressful and it starts to get to them they get dizzy and lightheaded but brush it off until it happens around Matt and he can sense that it happened and he gets all protective and caring
Preferably fem reader but gn is also totally fine so everyone can enjoy it !
If this isn’t your cup of tea I totally get that !
In His Arms
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Thank you for requesting, sweetie. I kind of went off track a little and I'm sorry :( (If you want me to rewrite it I happily will!) But either way, I hope you enjoy it!
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
Summary: Overwhelmed by your growing workload and the pressure to prove yourself, you keep your struggles hidden—even from Matt. When the stress leads to a breakdown, he pulls you back, reminding you that love means sharing the load.
TW: Panic attack, mentions of anxiety, pet names (I can't help it), swearing
Masterlist
Stress was a familiar feeling to you. Its sharp claws seemed always to be gripping onto you tightly. You’ve learnt how to manage the lack of air in your lungs and the painful squeezing of your heart whenever you go through a rough patch. 
That’s why the feeling of anxiety creeping up your spine was carelessly ignored. You regret that you shrugged the feeling away, too focused on your work. It’s much easier to calm your bones' nervous trembles before it worsens. 
But now it’s too late. 
You’ve been so distracted by your work. Your colleague had just gone on maternity leave after giving birth to twins. You weren’t sure what would happen to her workload, but you certainly didn’t think it would all be passed down to you. 
Now all your brain can seem to focus on is the deadlines coming closer by the minute. They flash in your mind each time you consider taking a break. You never take a break - this is your one chance to prove to your boss that you’re ready to take on more responsibility. The rumours floating around the office of potential promotions, motivating your hard work ethic. 
You’ve always been a hard worker; had always been distracted by what you consider important rather than what was essential- like eating, or sleeping. Each time you got away with it. You didn’t have anyone to look after you. 
Until Matt came along. 
He’s such an attentive man and would be even without his heightened senses. You knew he’d be worried about your desperation to complete your work, completely gone to the rest of the world as your stomach grumbled louder and your under eyes got darker. 
He’s a natural worrier. That’s what compelled you to keep your stress a secret. It’s hard lying to a human lie detector,  so you’ve taken to avoiding instead. It’s easy to avoid him when you’re so busy, anyway. A couple of messages per day seems to keep him subdued for now and you’re glad; it’s all the attention you could offer.
Your lip is pulled between your teeth, chewing hard enough to draw the taste of metallic blood. None of the words before you make sense through your blurry eyesight. As you attempt to read the same sentence for the third time, you angrily rip off your glasses and groan. 
Black spots take over your vision as you rub at your eyes aggressively, hoping the sickeningly dizzy feeling that’s making your throat feel tight will go away. It’s useless, yet you only allow yourself a second break before gulping down some water and returning to work. 
Your phone rings as soon as your fingertips touch the keys of your laptop and a curse slips out of your mouth before you can stop it. You hate yourself for the spark of annoyance that has your blood boiling when you read Matt’s name on your phone. 
He’d already left three messages from before. As well as a voice message that you hadn’t yet listened to; you were practically forced to answer the phone so as not to draw concern. You’re determined not to burden him with your issues - he’s a vigilante for God’s sake, he doesn’t need your petty problems on top of his own. 
“Hey, Sweetheart.” His deep voice crackles through your phone speaker. Instantly, your shoulders relax and your eyes flutter shut. He’s the bright sun during cold days, the flowers during winter; beautiful and everything you long to see.
“Hey, Matt.” You respond lazily, mustering up enough energy to open your eyes and read the words on your laptop screen. You use one hand to type while the other holds your phone to your ear. You can hear his smile in his voice. “I’ve barely talked to you all day. I thought you were coming to mine for dinner. Did you get my voicemail?”
Guilt nags at your stomach. “I’m so sorry, Matt,” the little sigh you can hear through the other line has your heart splintering, “I’ve just been so busy with staying on top of my work as well as Mara’s-”
“It’s okay. I know how busy you’ve been. I could come by with dinner. I can do some work while you do yours.” You hate to diminish the hope in his voice, but you know he'd be worried about your obvious stress as it shines through in your old clothing and unbrushed hair (not that he’d be able to see but feel). 
“Can we do a raincheck?” You whisper, guilt nagging at your stomach. His voice is so sweet. So understanding. It makes you want to cry. “Of course, baby. Try to eat, please. And take breaks. I’ll call you tomorrow; maybe we can go out for lunch.”
“Maybe,” If I’ve got enough work done, “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
You drop your phone on your lap as soon as the call ends. For once, you’re thankful for the large amounts of work, as it distracts you from the guilt that claws and tugs at your skin. 
⚝⚝⚝
The second time Matt calls, you’re nose-deep in paperwork that was slammed down on your desk. ‘More of Mara’s work,’ your boss said before leaving you with the rasing anxiety in your chest. Thoughts of taking your lunch break didn’t even assimilate in the blurry haze of your mind. 
Only the shrill ring of your phone brought you out of your bubble of work. Sighing, you don’t bother to check the name before picking it up, as you already know who it is. “Hey, Matt.” Your hand still scribbles words on the paper, phone pressed awkwardly against your ear by your shoulder.
“Hey. I called to see if you wanted lunch, but you sound busy.” Unlike last time, his voice doesn’t soothe your racing heart. If anything he makes it worse. “I’m so sorry,” you hope he can hear the sincerity in your voice, “I miss you. As soon as the crazy amount of work has subsided, I’ll call you.”
“Is there any way I can help?” You can’t help but smile at his caring nature, wanting nothing more than to be with him. But you know if you went to lunch you’d be too focused on work to be good company. “Remember that I love you?”
His laugh makes your heart melt, anxiety melting away with it. “Of course. As long as you remember that I love you. I won’t call so I don’t distract you from your work, but please take care of yourself. I love you so much, honey.”
“I love you too.” You hang up the phone and instead of returning to work immediately, you just sit there in silence, staring at the piles of paperwork in front of you. The sting of unshed tears joined by a nervous feeling in your stomach is enough to make you want to throw up. You’re so tired. 
You should have listened to your body. You should have gone out for lunch and taken a break. But instead, you got back to work, ignoring the bright red signs of a panic attack on the rise. 
⚝⚝⚝
Having been diagnosed with anxiety when you were younger, you’ve learned to identify signs of an upcoming panic attack. First, you begin to feel dizzy, then a little lightheaded. Your heart begins to hurt, and your stomach starts to turn. Then you can’t breathe, and you’re scratching at your skin to give your lungs more space to breathe. 
Now, as you stand in your kitchen, staring at the piles of paperwork that cover the dining room table, it’s hard to ignore how your body reacts to the sight of the never-ending workload; the feelings you so carelessly ignored before forced to be brought to attention. 
Your eyesight is unfocused, and you are unable to concentrate on the hand you’re using to prepare a small dinner. Your hands violently shake by your side and feel incredibly weak. But that isn’t what worries you; it’s the lack of air entering your lungs that has your eyes squeezed shut. 
Feelings of worthlessness travel up your throat and block your airways. You’re having a panic attack. The realization has you sliding down the fridge and to the floor, tears running freely down your flushed cheeks. You bring your knees to your chest, hands scratching at your throat as if it would allow air into your beaten lungs. 
Your body feels so weak, you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to stand up if you tried. You’re lost to the darkness and anguish the past weeks have wrought upon you; lost to the cruel insecurities your mind created to fool you into this vicious despair. 
No matter how hard you cry, how hard you claw and scrape at your skin, you still can’t breathe. Hopelessness washes over your chilled skin, pulling you into its shadows. You can do nothing but let it take you as its own, the fight for air warring off as you succumb to the darkness that spots your eyes. 
And as your eyes flutter shut, you fail to notice the opening of the window in the living room. You fail to notice the hurried steps and the gloved hands that hold your face gently. Or the man’s desperate calls of your name. 
⚝⚝⚝
The first thing you notice when you regain consciousness is the exhaustion that wracks through your frail body. The second thing is the man who lays next to you on your bed. 
Matt. 
He’s sleeping peacefully, chest moving up and down in slow breaths. You frown, unsure of why he’s here. The last thing you remember was you freaking out about the workload and having a panic attack. You must have fainted from the lack of air, you consider then immediately cringe. How embarrassing. 
“What are you thinking about?” You jump at the sound of Matt’s deep voice, eyes shooting up to watch a small smile grace his face at your reaction. “Why are you here?” The question comes out ruder than you intended, but Matt’s smile doesn't waver. 
“I was on patrol,” he begins, pulling you into his warm embrace, “and figured I’d stop by to check on you. I wasn’t going to come in, just listen-”
“-that’s not creepy at all-”
“-then I heard you panicking. Your heart was beating really fast and you were breathing really heavily. You were already passed out from lack of air by the time I was inside.” He pulls you in tighter like the moment still haunts him. You trace your fingertips gently down his bare arm, ear against his chest as you listen to his heartbeat. 
“What happened, sweetheart?” He asks when it became clear you weren’t going to speak. You sigh. “I’ve been a little stressed lately. And I should’ve listened to my body but I didn’t. There’s just so much work and such little time. I can’t handle all of this workload.” The familiar bite of tears has you shoving your head in Matt’s neck, letting him hold you tightly and reassure you that everything will be okay. 
“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have worked through your stress together,” He questions quietly and you shake your head in response. “You take the burden of everyone else’s problems, and still go out every night to face all the bad guys- I just didn’t want to burden you with my problems on top of all the rest.”
He pulls away and you try not to frown at the lack of contact. Slowly, his fingers move under your chin and compel you to look into his beautiful, unfocused eyes that sparkle in the city lights shining through your windows. “You are not a burden. Your problems are not a burden. I want to be here for you. I want you to tell me what’s going on in that smart little head of yours-” He flicks your forehead playfully before giving it a small kiss “-And I want you to know you can talk to me.”
You nod your head slowly, feeling like a child that’s just been scolded. “Okay.” He lays there in silence for a moment, seemingly contemplating his words before he speaks, “I think you need to talk to your boss,” you open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off with a gentle squeeze, “This amount of work isn’t healthy. I mean, why hasn’t the workload been separated and passed around to all of your co-workers? It’s fucking stupid if you ask me. She’s obviously taking advantage of your brilliance-”
“-Matt,” You cut him off with an amused smile. His eyes glint at the sound of your giggles as if that was his mission all along and he won first place. 
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.” 
“Don’t thank me. If anything I’m being selfish.” He grins cheekily, kissing your palm as it raises to cup his cheek. “And why, pray tell, are you being selfish?” Your smile is sly and knowing. 
“Because I’m doing this to get my beautiful girl back and into my arms. Foggy isn’t as good company as you, y’know.” You giggle, holding him tightly as your mind settles on a decision. “I’ve missed you too.”
Tomorrow you’ll call your boss and ask for a lessened workload. But for now, you’re just going to lay in bed with the man you love dearly and let him hold you tightly. 
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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.
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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. 
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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)
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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
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“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?”
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shadowbriar · 1 year ago
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Matt Murdock - Scratches
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Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.2k Warning : Injuries, nothing graphics. Matt being dumb that he inflicts injuries to himself. A bit of angst I think. Synopsis : The lack of knowledge about her wellbeing is doing everything but put his mind at ease and Matt wasn’t sure how long he could live with such torture. Notes : Special work for my precious @basementsoup. I hope you like this Alex! ♡ If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕
Matt hated it.
He hated having to admit that he still needs her. That even after months of separation, the many helping hands he found and friends he could’ve come to, he still found himself scrambling back to her apartment. He hated that in the lowest moments in life, her soothing touch and gentle words were the only thing that helped him stay afloat.
But nothing beats the hatred he felt when he finally managed to get inside. He hated how there’s a new pot of sunflowers placed by the widow. He hated how the pictures on the walls are now gone, replaced with what seems to be mirrors and other wall decorations. He hated, the most, how his scent no longer lingers in the air.
Before he could drown himself deeper into the wallowing, the sound of keys jingling and door knob twisting were heard. His heart paced for a split moment. A short period of regret washes over him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have barged in tonight.
“Matt,” She called, surprise was evident in her tone. Her heart skipped a beat and Matt wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the reasoning for it; is she glad to finally see him again or is she hating their reunion?
“I broke your pot,” He says instead “I didn’t realise you'd done some redecorating.”
“Yeah, I, uh.. I needed a change of setting.” She answers as she takes off her coat, tossing her bag to the floor once she realises his bruised face “Oh, God, not again.”
Matt tries his best to suppress the blooming smile on his face as he feels her fingers examining his face, “It’s just a light scratch.”
“You always say that,” She protests “I can find you on your deathbed, bleeding away, and you’ll still say it’s just a scratch.”
“Has it ever been more than a scratch?”
Matt knew that she must be glaring at him right now. The change in her breathing is clear for him to tell that he’s bruised her patience. But even with annoyance and vexation boiling her blood, her care and worry for him will always overshadow it.
“Come, I’ll clean your wounds.” She says as she holds his arm.
A small kaleidoscope of butterflies flutters in his heart. She knew that he could navigate himself to the sofa. He only broke the pot because he wasn’t expecting any change of setting in her apartment but now that he knew, he’ll be sure to be more careful in moving around, so there’s truly no need of her to guide him this way. Yet again, why would he complain?
“What is it this time?” She asks as she went to the cabinet to get her aid kit “Fisk? Castle? Some thugs?”
“Would you believe me if I say I fell off the bed?”
She turns and eyes him with a glare.
“Alright, not the bed then,” He jests “Stairs. I fell down the stairs.”
“Not funny, Matthew.”
“What, can’t a blind man fall from the stairs?”
She lets out a sigh. Matt could sense her defeated shoulders from the way she dropped the aid kit, “You wouldn’t come here if you only fell from the stairs, Matt.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
Truth is Matt has tried his hardest to stop himself from seeing her. He’s fought every urge to jump out of bed at night and come to her. Every little thing in his life pushes him to get closer to her. Like a magnetic force he couldn’t seem to escape. He wanted to ask her what tea he should get from the grocery shop. He wanted to ask her if he should wear the blue or the red tie for the court trial the next day. He wanted to ask her if he could borrow some sugar though the trip to the grocery store is far closer than having to walk to her apartment.
Anything that happens in his life, he wanted to share it with her.
“I don’t want to have this conversation again, Matt.”
“I know,” He nods, licking his lips as he tries to show an apologetic smile “I’m sorry.”
Matt could feel the sofa shifting when she took a seat next to him. He could smell the water from the bowl on her lap and the rest of her aid kit that are now laid on the table. This feels painfully nostalgic. To have her tend his wounds yet for the first time, he knew that he won’t be getting the one true cure he needs — her kisses.
“Are there any other bruises or wounds than the ones on your face?” She asks as she begins cleaning his skin “One of these days you’re gonna need to get yourself a real professional help. Like a personal nurse or doctor. I won’t be here forever to help you.”
“Won’t you?”
“You’re not exactly the easiest patient to tend to,” She answers with a teasing smile “I’d say the chance is pretty high.”
“But I’m your only patient. You need a comparison to say that I’m the worst of your patients.”
“No one can be this much of a pain in my ass than you, Murdock. You know that.”
Matt only smiles at her remarks. He wanted to bask in this moment. To suffocate himself with her gentle touches. To hear the beat of her heart that has become his personal ballad. To know that no matter how far the distance between them grows, she will forever be his true north.
Her movement was put to a short halt when her fingers bruised his lips. He can’t see her but he hopes that the longing in his face is mirrored on her. That she misses the feeling of their lips touching. That she misses the feeling of his lips whispering sweet nonsense in her ear. That she misses him too.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” She says instead as she abruptly stands from her seat “If you don’t have any other injury, I think you’re good to go.”
Matt forces a laugh, “What just happened?”
“I don’t know, Matt, you tell me! What are you doing here?”
“I told you, I fell down the stairs.”
“Yeah, and you couldn’t have asked Foggy or Karen to help with your wound?” She asks, her volume slightly rising in frustration “Do you even feel those wounds? Because I know you have that superhero metabolism thing and I’ve seen you get worse injuries. You can’t just come here, spend half an hour to get to the other side of the city, just to get some bandaid for your scratches.”
Her heartbeat has gone frantic now. Matt could feel the frustration, the anger, the disappointment from all the words she uttered, but the most evident thing he could hear was how much she worries for him. How much she wanted to embrace him as she once did. How much she wanted to show him the love she hoards for him, even without saying it out loud.
It had been a few painful weeks leading up to their separation. He could hardly remember the last time he’s slept a wink. There’s always someone crying for help, someone screaming in agony, wailing in pain and despair that he just had to go out there and lend a hand. And even with all of his God gifted abilities, there’s only so much he could take before he succumbed to his demons. And unfortunately, this is one of the few battles he has to admit losing.
Even up till this moment, Matt still tries to convince himself that he didn’t regret ending things between them. It needed to be done. He had to make sure that the Daredevil and his business wouldn’t come between him and her. He needed to make sure that the enemies he made along the way would never find their ways to her. He needed to make sure that when the Daredevil himself had to make penance for his sins, he wouldn’t drag her along with him to hell.
And the only way he could save her is to cut the relationship clean.
But Matt is as much of a selfish man as the next person. He couldn’t keep away from her for too long. The thought of her moving on peels his skin when it should’ve given him the satisfaction and fulfilment. The way her shampoo no longer lingers on his pillowcase gives him nightmares. The distance that he thought would be her safety net soon turns into a limbo of anxiety and worry. The lack of knowledge about her wellbeing is doing everything but put his mind at ease and Matt wasn’t sure how long he could live with such torture.
“I didn’t lie when I told you I fell from the stairs,” He explains softly “I— I’ve been wanting to come and see you but I just— I don’t know how.”
Her heartbeat slows, completely focused on his words now.
“I thought about purposely messing up my laundry and calling you for help. I thought about using that wrong detergent for our— my blankets, but I know you’d never forgive me.” He confesses, a pathetic chuckle escaped his lips “I mean, I wouldn’t want to ruin those blankets, to be real. They’re precious to me. We use them for our movie nights.”
“So you figured you just fell down the stairs?”
He shrugs, a small embarrassed smile curved on his face, “I had to make sure you won’t kick me out and slam the door on my face.”
“You’re an idiot, Matthew.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do,” She seethes, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves and running a hand through her hair in frustration “You— You can’t just end things between us and suddenly barges into my apartment, begging me to clean your self-inflicted wounds. That’s not how things work, Matt. That’s— That’s cruel.”
And that’s when he feels it. The foul taste of salt from her tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. The night just keeps getting worse and worse, so it seems. It was never in his intention to make her cry though he’s got to admit that he’s done that one too many times. He only wanted to see her, to feel her touch one more time, not to cause an even greater pain to their gashing wound.
“What do you want from me, Matt?” She painfully asks, her voice cracks from the heartache “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Is that what you want? For me to leave you alone?”
A bitter laughter escapes her lips, “I want you to love me, but that’s clearly not on the table, so I suppose being left by you would be the best option.”
Carefully, Matt stands from his seat and walks toward her. He reaches for her face, feeling the wetness of her cheeks under his calloused fingers. It pains him to see her this way. To know that he’s caused her more pain than happiness. All because he thought he knew better when clearly he didn't.
“I love you. I’ve always loved you,” He confesses “It’s because I love you that I ended things between us.”
Matt could feel the skin on her forehead scrunching, clearly from the confusion of his words.
“It was becoming unsafe for you to be with me. I made too many enemies, too many people that wanted to avenge their anger to me and it was only a matter of time before they knew about the one thing that would hurt me most and I can’t— I can’t risk that.”
“So I’m, what? A weakness?”
“Yeah. Yeah, you are my weakness,” Matt says with a nod “And I couldn’t care less about having a weakness, believe me I don’t care about my soft spots, but you..” He pauses, cupping her face gently as his eyes become glossy “You.. You, I cannot ignore. Just the thought of someone, laying a hand on you, hurting just a strand of your hair.. It drives me nuts. I care more about you than anything. So if staying away from you is the only option I have, if it’s the only way I can minimise the risk of harming you..”
A tear finally rolled down his cheek. It feels liberating to finally confess all of his reasoning, to finally let her know the cause of his discourteous actions, but there’s still no solution to their problem. There’s still a huge question mark for them to tackle and he wasn’t sure if he’s ready to reach that point yet. He wanted to still feel her touch, to hear her calling his name even if they’re filled with her venomous tone.
“Matt—”
“Tell me,” He cuts in, trying to recollect himself from the turmoil “Do you want me to leave? Would it be best for me to leave you be?”
“No, no I never want you to leave.” She answers as she pulls him for a hug, burying her face to his chest and wetting his shirt with her tears “Don’t leave me, please.”
Matt welcomes the embrace in no time. He pulls her close, making her stand on her tippy toes as he lifts her. He misses this. The warm scent of her perfume, the pressure of her on his body, the feeling of her heart beating against his chest. This feels like home. She feels like home.
“I’m sorry,” He whispers to her ear “I’m sorry for everything.”
“I don’t need your apologies, Matt. I just need you to promise you’ll stay this time.”
He nods eagerly, pulling her impossibly close to make sure that she hears him, “I promise.”
427 notes · View notes
l0vergirlwrites · 2 months ago
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✭ matthew murdock ✭
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let me see you | matthew murdock x fem!reader (angst/fluff)
dancing in the street | matthew murdock x fem!reader (fluff)
intimacy | matthew murdock x fem!reader (fluff/comfort)
night in | matthew murdock x fem!reader (angst/comfort)
matthew murdock x gn!reader blurb
matthew murdock x musiciangirlfriend!reader headcanons
love & back rubs | matthew murdock x reader (angst/fluff)
overwhelmed | matthew murdock x fem!reader (angst/comfort)
shopping | matthew murdock x fem!reader (fluff/suggestive)
valentine | matthew murdock x fem!reader (fluff)
no pressure | matthew murdock x fem!reader (suggestive/angst/fluff)
exam stress | college!matthewmurdock x femstudent!reader (fluff)
you’re losing me | matthew murdock x fem!reader (angst)
wanna feel guilty | matthew murdock x fem!reader (angst)
77 notes · View notes
halfway-happyyy · 11 days ago
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It'll All Work Out
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summary: you are casually involved with a one Mister frank castle, but still have unfinished business with one of his biggest adversaries, matt murdock. angst and soft feelings ensue.
warnings: brief mentions of violence
pairings: frank castle x reader, matt murdock x reader
You awaken in the morning hush to the familiar sounds of the city coming to life around you. Millions of dust particles dance and shift in a ray of 5 AM light from the crack in your curtains. A warm weight shifts next to you, and an impossibly toned arm circles your torso ever tighter. For some inexplicable reason before you turn, you half expect to find a shock of unruly umber hair and ruddy, stubbled cheeks beneath a pair of gorgeous hazel eyes. 
And then, a barely noticeable smile lifts Frank Castle’s lips skyward, and you’re back where you’re supposed to be, as if you’d never left at all.
“Mornin’,” He murmurs and lifts the back of your hand to his lips, brushing it softly.
“Morning, Frank.” You kean into his touch, craving more of it always, as if enough of it will make you forget the way that he felt beneath you.
Frank traces a deliberate fingertip down the bridge of your nose, his molten bronze eyes alert and shining brightly in the inky light of dawn. “Last night was nice.” He offers.
And he’s not lying.
You can still feel the scorching heat from his fingertips on every inch of your body; an inexplicably satisfying ache still exists at the apex of your thighs from being stretched a little too fully by him… “Every time with you is nice.” You take cover from his gaze in the hollow warmth of his neck. The low reverberation of his chuckle against the top of your head causes a tremble to wrack your body, and his hold on you tightens involuntarily. 
When you’re close like this- when there’s no telling where either of you end or begin, it’s entirely too easy to lose yourself in all of it. Your home has been a safe space the last six months. There are no cuts to be patched up, no ghosts in the shadows, no goodbyes.
No Matthew.
“You’re a million miles away.” 
His gravelly tone is teasing, but there is a hint of something else beneath it that causes tidal waves of guilt to ebb away at you and you swallow thickly before answering- “I’m right here.” It’s as much a reassurance for him as it is for you.
A sudden vibration pierces the imminent stillness of your bedroom, the sound of it foreign and unfamiliar, and you frown against the jut of Frank’s collarbone. “Who’s even up at this hour?” His voice is thick with the weight of recent sleep. 
The ringing stops, and you think with relief, that it’s the end of that, but less than a minute later, it starts again and you groan in unconcealed frustration. 
“Whoever it is needs you.” 
Turning in Frank’s embrace, you reach for the phone on your bedside table and blanch at the name flashing across the screen. 
MM.
Frank recoils against you; it’s so quiet in the bedroom that you can hear the particular hitch of his breath as it catches in his throat. He doesn’t have to ask what MM stands for. “Better answer it, sweetheart.” His tone is frigid, touching dangerously close to full-on hostility. He presses a final, chaste kiss to the rounded curve of your bare shoulder, lifts the duvet from his body and swings his legs over the side of your bed.
You watch the muscles in his toned back ripple and flex as he bends down to retrieve the pieces of his clothing abandoned in the searing heat of passion the night before. 
“Frank, I don’t want you to go.” And it's God's honest truth.
A melancholy laugh exits his mouth in the form of a huff, as he shrugs his shoulders. “I’d be lying if I said I wanted to leave, sweetheart.” 
So stay…
“He’s never stopped loving you.” His voice was a wine glass on the precipice of shattering entirely. “And maybe I was on my way there, too.” 
God, this was never part of the plan.
Frank clears his throat, trying in vain to rid his voice of emotion. “I’m confident in my feelings for you. Have been from the moment you poured me that damn cup of coffee,” The creases next to his eyes deepen as he revisits the memory. “But the fact of the matter is that he beat me to it. And as nice as the last six months have been, there are three of us in this bedroom and it’s getting a bit crowded.” Where you expected his gaze to be angry or accusatory, it’s anything but.
Tears prickle threateningly behind your eyes as you hug your arms tighter to your frame. “I’m sorry, Frank.” 
He’s fully dressed now and standing at your window, his hulking figure silhouetted by the breaking morning light is a sight for sore eyes. He shrugs after a while. “He needs you.” 
And what about you?  You want to ask. Don’t you need me to?
But it’s Frank Castle. And he hasn’t really needed anyone for a long time- at least not the way that most people do. 
So, he gathers you in his arms for a final time, presses his lips to your forehead, and takes his leave to go. But before he vanishes from sight completely, he hesitates on the landing of your stairway and turns back to you, his penetrating gaze still just as dazzling as ever. “Right person, wrong time.” 
Right person, wrong time. 
From where you are, you hear the sound of your front door opening, but miss the sound of it closing. Instead, an indecipherable noise emanates from Frank, followed by a humorless laugh. “Well, this is rich.” 
Your heart skips a beat as you throw on an old shirt and take the stairs two at a time. At the bottom, you’re met with a scene that’s still difficult to piece together. Matt is hunched up against the side of your house, beaten and bruised from what looks like a brutal fight. Taking inventory of the damage, you notice a violet bruise blooming beneath his left eye, a shallow cut on his cheek seeps crimson blood, and he’s favouring his ribs. 
“You always were a little too good at taking a beating, Murdock.” Frank spits. 
Matt shifts, wincing from the pain. “If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy.” 
“This isn’t funny, Matt.” 
He won’t look at you. Not yet. 
“Do you need a hospital?” Frank asks, finally. 
Matt shakes his head. “Just rest.” 
And it’s the look that Frank leaves you with as he climbs onto the back of his motorcycle; he needs you. He disappears at the end of your street and you find yourself missing his strong, protective reassurance almost immediately. 
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Matt’s voice is hoarse, and causes goosebumps in waves on your arms. 
“And yet somehow, you always manage to.” You sigh and slide down the wall next to him. Taking his hand in yours, you’re shocked at how cold it is and you turn to him, concerned. “How long have you been out here?” 
Matt clears his throat. “A couple of hours, give or take.” 
“You can’t keep doing this, Matt.” Your statement is quiet, almost lost to the white noise of the city around you. “It’s just too painful.” 
His unseeing gaze is focused on something ahead when a single tear cascades down the front of his cut cheek. It’s an unfamiliar sight; in the many years that you had known him, he’d only let himself cry once or twice. Placing an arm around him, you pull him to you and hold him as tightly as he allows you. When a light rain begins to fall, you tell him it’s time to go in. 
He reluctantly gets up, groaning in pain as he follows you back into your house. While the bathtub is filling, you get to work searching for the proper supplies to start patching him up. 
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” You ask, and take a step between his parted thighs. “Or shall I rely on my imagination?” 
He gazes up in the direction of your voice, and you can not help but lose yourself in his beautiful hazel eyes. “Lately, I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat,” His voice is low and raw with emotion. “And I worry because I don’t feel anything. I just don’t feel anything.” 
His eyes close and you feel your heart splinter.
Ripping open an alcohol swab, you take the back of his head in your hands and warn him that what you’re about to do will sting. You pass it over the cut on his cheek and he flinches against you, his body rigid with discomfort. 
“I get worried that I’ll stop feeling everything one day.” He grunts.
So, under the cover of darkness you become the devil of hell’s kitchen and start fights you’re not always sure you’ll win. 
“A valid fear,” You agree. “You did feel that, though.” You gesture to his cheek, and he only frowns in reply. 
Matt clears his throat, his expression suddenly earnest. “Frank-” You shake your head, your heart twinging at the sound of his name out of Matt’s mouth. The rest of the words fizzle and fade in his throat. 
“Stand up.” You instruct, quietly. And he does as he’s told. You take the hem of his shirt in your hands and carefully lift it up over his head. “Jesus Matthew…” You release a pent-up breath as you notice the smattering of fresh bruises that decorate his upper body like a warzone. He recoils when you pass a delicate fingertip over a particularly dark spot. 
“It’s not as bad as it looks, kid…” 
The sound of your nickname makes you falter. It had been years since you’d last heard it, and where it should have incited immediate frustration, you are surprised to find you’d missed it. Next to go are his pants, which pool on the floor around his feet. Stepping out of them, he shimmies the black boxers from his body and steps into the all-encompassing comfort of the steaming bath. 
Turning to make your exit, a fragile noise rips from the hollow of his throat before he asks if you’ll stay. After a couple of minutes of silent deliberation, you nod your head and take a seat on a stool next to the bath. 
Matt sits in silence for a while, the only other noise in the room is the subtle pitter-patter of rain on the skylight above you. Scars of varying degrees of seriousness decorate the expansive planes of his alabaster chest, and it’s all you can do to keep from reaching out and tracing them. When enough time has passed, you fill a jug from beneath the sink with warm water and pour it over Matt’s head. Pouring a dollop of shampoo onto his head, you work the mixture into a lather in his hair and rinse that out as well. When you’re finished rinsing out the conditioner, he stands up for you in preparation of the body wash. You watch, wide-eyed as water drops race themselves in misshapen lines down the length of his lithe body, and your mouth goes dry at the sight of it all. Taking the soapy sea sponge in your hands, you make quick work of his entire body. 
“Feels good,” He murmurs when you’ve poured the final jug of warm water over him. 
While he finishes up in the washroom, you make quick work of changing over your bed. He wanders in a little while later, his hair still slightly damp despite him toweling off. Lifting the corner of your weighted duvet, he sidles in next to you, and all of it is almost painfully familiar; like he’d been here all along, like he’d never even left at all. 
You both are nose-to-nose now. Every scar, every fleck of green suspended in a sea of hazel is on display for you, and any resolve you might have had before fades entirely. “I did mean what I said earlier, Matt.” 
He reaches a warm palm up to caress your cheek. 
“You pick and choose when it’s convenient for you to let me in and I just… I can’t keep doing it. You’re breaking my heart.” A single tear slips from the corner of your eye, and he doesn’t see it- cannot see it, but his thumb catches it and brushes it away. 
He’s never stopped loving you.
“You’re it for me, kid. I’ll never leave you again.” He doesn’t say what you both know is true; that he’ll never stop doing what he does to protect the city he cherishes so deeply, but there is a truth to those pretty words that simply wasn’t there before. “That is, if you’ll have me.” 
You capture his lips in a kiss that might as well be the last one you’ll ever have, and when you eventually pull away, you’re both breathing hard. Wordlessly, you guide his hand to the spot above your rib cage where your heart beats a slow, steady rhythm. 
“I love you, Matthew.” 
I love you, I love you, I love you
73 notes · View notes
allllium · 1 year ago
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Pinky Promise
~ This definitely ended up longer than I meant it to be but no regrets, Matt is so adorable in this.
~ Fluff, Angst but not really? More like play fighting. Reader is referred to as Matt's girlfriend but other than that gender neutral. WC: 1,939
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~ Matt tells you he's Daredevil
  You have been filled with anxiety all day after a text from Matt. This morning he asked you to come to his apartment as soon as you could after work. He wouldn't say anything else about it, just that it was very important. 
  Matt has a habit of not believing he deserves good things. Throughout your relationship, you have done everything in your power to prove him wrong. But still, when he says he needs to talk to you, about something really important, your mind falls to the worst-case scenario. 
  “Matty, I'm here.” You announce as you walk into your boyfriend's apartment. 
  “Oh hey, sweetheart.” He greets you at the door, as he always does. He is the perfect gentleman. 
  “Hi.” You let out, trying not to let your anxiety be too obvious. “What did you want to talk about?” 
  He opens his mouth to say something before immediately shutting it again. “I ordered some food. It should be here anytime.” 
  “Is there a reason you're trying to change the subject?” He grabs your hands and leads you over to the couch. Sitting down, he pulls you down onto his lap. 
  “No, I'm just letting you know. I know how you get about your food.” 
  “Mhm. And is that the only reason?” 
  “I have to tell you something.” Oh no. You know what this is about. This day had to come eventually.
  “Okay, what is it?” You let out a soft sigh. It wasn't hard to figure out once you got together.
  “I don't want you to be mad at me.” 
  “Matt I won't get mad, I promise.” 
  “How do you know?” His eyes show you how worried he is. 
  “Because I love you.” You grab his hand and lean into him more. “And unless you're about to tell me that you cheated, I won't be mad.” 
  “What! I would never!” 
  “I know, baby. It was just an example.” You almost laugh at the surprised expression that covers his face. 
  “Well, you know how I became blind.” He begins.
  You were right, he's about to tell you he's Daredevil. Yes, you already know. For two reasons. One, a blind man can't do everything he does, the way he caught you when you fell on one of your dates, or the way he knows where things are without being told. Two, Foggy. He didn't mean to tell you but you had your suspicions and you may have tricked Foggy into secretly confirming for you.
  Foggy has no idea what he said allowed you to know the truth and you never told him so he wouldn't feel bad about accidentally exposing his best friend's secret. You're not proud of it but your curiosity got the best of you.
  “Yeah, I do.” 
  “Uhh, it did more than make me lose my sight.” You weren't able to confirm anything about the accident but if Matt is Daredevil then something had to have happened for it to be possible. 
  “What else did it do?” 
  “It heightened all of my other senses.” You squeeze his hand to encourage him to continue. “I can hear things from very far away and smell things better than normal.” No shit. 
  “How much better?” As much as you already know, there are a lot of specifics you still don't understand. 
  “I can smell what you have eaten all day, I can hear your heart beating and I can tell when you're making a face.” That's a lot more than you thought. “I can hear everyone in this building and mostly tell what they're doing.” 
  You immediately scramble off his lap. 
  “Did I weird you out?” The lace of sadness in his voice breaks your heart.
  “No it's not you, I'm just weirdly aware of myself now.” You assure him. You don't know how to describe it like you're going over everything you did in the day to try and figure out what Matt can tell.
  “You don't have to be, sweetheart. You're not the weird one here.” 
  “Matt, you're not weird. You're perfect. You can't control what happened to you or what it caused these senses. I don't know. You can smell me and hear me? It's just a lot.” 
  “That's not even the part I'm trying to tell you.” 
  “Matt, I have to be honest with you. I know.” You whisper. 
  “You know?” He asks in shock. “Know what?” 
  “That you're Daredevil.” Your voice grows even quieter.
  “What? How?” He exclaims, standing up to meet you. 
  “I don't know. One day I was just thinking and kinda put it together!”
  “When?” His voice booms around the small apartment.
  “A few months ago. There was this clip of Daredevil on the news and he looked so familiar so I started thinking about the injuries you get, how you disappear at night, how you can catch me when I fall. It became really obvious and then..” You stop your rant, not wanting to expose Foggy. Even though he had no idea what the conversation was about, you still feel terrible.
  “And then?” 
  “I may have tricked Foggy into confirming it for me.” Matt’s face quickly shows anger and disbelief. “I swear he has no idea I know anything, he didn't mean to confirm anything.” 
  “Why didn't you just ask me?” Is he serious right now? 
  “Because you never would've told me! We've been together for almost a year now and you're just now trusting me with this! I'm the one that gets to be pissed right now, not you!” 
  “Okay you're right I should have told you but I was just scared that..” 
  “No.” You hold your hand out and interrupt him. “I swear Matt, if the next thing you say is that you were protecting me, I will beat your ass.” 
  “That was one of the reasons, yes.” You step forward, fully intent on keeping your word. “Let me explain.” He smiles and pushes you away. 
  “Fine but it better be good.” You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows to show how serious you are. 
  “I wasn't just worried about your safety, I was worried that you would feel different about me. Maybe even leave me.” 
  “Matt, I love you. And I know you doubt yourself but I would never leave you for that. You could kill a million people and I wouldn't leave you.” 
  He gives you a very concerned look. “That's not good, we need to talk about that.” 
  “Eh.” You wave him off. “We need to talk about all this shit,” You move your hands over his body. “All this self-deprecating shit you do.” 
  “Oh well, I'm so sorry for believing you deserve the world.” He says as sarcastically as possible.
  “Exactly. Think more like that.” You nod.
  “I'm not gonna do that.” 
  “We are getting off topic.”
  “Is there more to talk about?” You can tell he's worried about you knowing the details.
  “We are one month away from our first anniversary and you're just telling me this now, that's not okay Matthew!” 
  “I know! I didn't want to wait this long but the more I thought about telling you the more I thought about losing you and I can't handle that.”
  “Wait so why did you want to tell me today? Are you okay with losing me today?” You half-joke.
  “No, because Karen told me if I didn't she would, and I know you should hear this from me.” 
  “Yeah you're right but this needed to happen forever ago!” 
  “I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, sweetheart, I know I should've. But out of curiosity, when would've been the best time to tell you?” He asks sincerely, sitting back on the couch. 
  “Why? Want advice for your next girlfriend?” You can't help but tease. Sitting back down on his lap. 
  “I'm never gonna have another girlfriend.” 
  “Oh yeah? And you're sure about that?” 
  “What does that mean?” He asks in fake concern, used to your teasing antics. 
  “I don't know. What do you think it means?” 
  “This isn't funny.” He says while he laughs. “I can't tell if you're mad at me or me.” 
  “Oh, I'm very mad.” 
  “About me being Daredevil?” 
  “No, Matty about you keeping it from me. What you do for people in danger is amazing. I love that you use your senses selflessly. I mean I hate the fact that you get hurt in the process but clearly, you can handle yourself.”
  “You don't know how relieved I am to hear you say that.” 
  “I'm glad I could help. But seriously the next time you keep a secret like this for that long, we're over.” You make eye contact with him as you say this, needing him to know you're not joking. 
  “I promise I won't.” 
  “Good! Now onto that not having a next girlfriend thing?” 
  “Ugh, do we have to?” He leans back, making you yelp as you fall into him. 
  “Yes, we have to. I want to hear you say it.” 
  “It means I want to marry you.” You giggle at his words. 
  “I knew it, you're obsessed with me.” 
  “Does that mean you want to marry me too?” He asks hopefully. You almost feel bad for your next words. 
  “Hmm. I'll tell you next year.” 
  He runs his hands over his face. “You are not funny.” He says that but you can see the smile he's hiding. 
  Before you can respond, the doorbell rings. Perfect timing. “You keep a secret, I keep a secret.” You shrug and head to answer the door. 
  When you go back to the couch and set the food on the coffee table, Matt pulls you into him once again. 
  “Someone's touchy today.” 
  “Just happy you're not trying to beat my ass.”
  “I would win.” 
  “Oh definitely.” You feel him smile on your neck. “Are you gonna make me wait another year to propose?” 
  “Sorry baby but you know I don't marry someone before the second year.” 
  “You're killing me y'know.” He groans loudly in your ear, making you lean away from his ticklish breath. 
  “Maybe your next girlfriend will marry you before the first anniversary.” You yelp again as he pulls you even further into him, using his strength to make sure you're as close as possible.
  “Sweetheart you are the last girlfriend I'll ever have.”
  “Oh, I know I am.” 
  “Oh god, what does that mean?” 
  “It means if you ever have another girlfriend I'll haunt you for the rest of your life.” 
  “Haunt me? Are you dead in this scenario?” He asks in obvious confusion.
  “Yes because I'm never gonna let you leave me.”
  “I'm beginning to think you're a little crazy.” 
  “Crazy about you.” You wiggle your eyebrows.
  “That was terrible.” 
  “That was amazing, I'm a great flirt.”
  “Yes, you are.” He chuckles, in that amazing deep voice. “I'm sorry for not telling you sooner.” 
  “I'm sorry for not asking you directly and using Foggy.” 
  He holds his hand out to you, sticking out his pinky.
  “What's this?” 
  “A pinky promise.” 
  “Oh, a pinky promise with the devil.”
  “Stop that, I promise not to lie to you again and you promise to ask me things instead of tricking poor Foggy.” 
  “Okay fine. Pinky promise.” You link your finger with him. 
  “I love you.” 
  “Aww thank you.” You laugh at his surprised expression. 
  “Say it back.” He whines.
  “I don't wanna.” You can't hide the smile on your face. 
  Matt takes a second to stop himself from smiling before making the biggest, most dramatic frown. 
  “Fine, I love you too.” You break out in giggles as he tackles you.
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Sparks Fly
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Click here for my masterlist.
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Prompt - ‘I run my fingers through your hair and watch the lights go wild.’
Warnings / This fic contains smut - you can skip it if you want, you won’t miss anything!💜
Notes - Happy Speak Now month! Request a fic for any of the remaining Speak Now tracks, click my masterlist to see which songs are left!!💜
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The problem with Matt Murdock was that you had known from the moment you had met him that he was a bad idea. At first he had been all pleasant smiles and soft words but once you had gotten to know him his words turned flirty and his smiles were charmingly attractive. You were glad for the fact he couldn’t see you, glad for the fact he could never witness you blush under his gaze, see as you shifted in your seat or watch the way your breath hitched when he stood too close.
Everything about Matt was a bad idea, falling for him was the worst one though. As much as that man loved flirting with you and everyone else in his general vicinity, you knew at the first sign of real feelings he would run and hide, ignoring it because he was so scared of something you didn’t understand.
You’d met Matt by chance, running into Foggy first after your boss rented out the office space opposite theirs and he invited you inside. The two of you were fast friends but meeting Matt, letting his hand wrap around yours as he introduced himself, feeling sparks between you, you had known then and there it was a bad idea to stick around Nelson and Murdock and yet after that first day you seemed to spend more time in their office than you did your own.
It went on for months, Matt oblivious to how you felt whilst you silently pined. You couldn’t count how many times you’d lost yourself in a daydream, your traitorous thoughts creating all sorts of impossible scenarios where Matt would just grab you, pull you close and kiss you until your lips were swollen and you struggled to breathe.
You knew Matt was a good person, even if he did have a reckless streak, one you’d bore witness to yourself and heard about in length from Foggy. You knew that he would never date somebody seriously, preferring to sleep around rather than stay with one person, you knew you should let go of your crush for him but it was impossible.
Some days you were convinced Matt knew how you felt. When the three of you went to a bar together after work and he sat a little too close to you, his knees brushing against yours and your arms rested against each other. You knew he couldn’t see the way you glanced at the way he sat so close, knew he couldn’t see your smile as you resisted the urge to shift close and yet you always caught a smirk on his face aimed in your direction, some flirty comment following it.
It didn’t matter because you knew for Matt it wasn’t nothing but a fun little game to flirt the night away with you. It didn’t matter how much you told yourself it was just a crush when you knew your feelings went beyond that because nothing would come from them.
“Let me walk you home.” Matt insisted like he did after every night spent at the bar. It had been over a year since you’d met him and he had never once failed to make sure you got home safe, despite your insistence that you’d be fine.
“You don’t have to.” You told him, a scripted response that Matt had come to expect in the time he’d known you and you didn’t need to see him without the red tinted glasses to see he was rolling his eyes behind them.
“I’m gonna walk you home.” He grinned at you causing you to laugh as he headed off in the direction of your apartment, you following him straight away.
Matt walked by your side, close enough that if you were brave enough you’d be able to reach out and brush your hand against his, thread your fingers together and feel his hand against yours. He was close enough that if you turned to face him and leaned up you could press your lips to his.
He was close enough to touch and yet the distance between you seemed wider than ever.
“Everything ok?” Matt asked softly, startling you out of your thoughts and you prayed that he hadn’t somehow been able to tell what you had been thinking about.
“Sorry, lost in my own head.” You chucked, hoping he’d let you brush it off and change the subject but Matt was never one for letting the people he cared about suffer, always wanting to do something to make it better.
“Seems to happen a lot.” Matt stated and you tensed slightly, Matt noticing straight away but he didn’t let it show. “You know you can talk to me, right?”
Did you know that? Sure, of course you did, you could talk to Matt about anything, anything except for the fact you were in love with him, anything expect for the fact that all you could think about was him kissing you right now on the sidewalk, how you wanted nothing more than for him to tell you that he felt the same way.
“I know.” You smiled, letting all the things you most desperately wanted to say go unsaid. “But there’s nothing to talk about.”
Matt clearly didn’t buy it if the frown on his face was anything to go by and as much as you hated putting it there, as much as you hated lying to him you knew it was easier this way. Losing Matt would hurt infinitely more than silently wishing for him.
Matt knew what was eating you up, he knew that you were as desperate for him as he was for you. If it had been anyone else, if he had met you years ago he wouldn’t have hesitated to cup your cheek and drag you in for a kiss, he wouldn’t have given a second thought to taking you to bed, he wouldn’t have wasted any time in making you his.
But it wasn’t years before, it was now and now he had Daredevil in his life. He couldn’t risk another person getting hurt because of him, he was already risking more than he’d like with Foggy knowing but you…he couldn’t risk anything happening to you because of him.
And yet he wanted you. He wanted you so bad. Hearing your heart rate speed up when he brushed his hand against yours, feeling the heat spread to your cheeks when he made a suggestive comment, hearing the way your breathing hitched when he wrapped his arm through yours, knowing you wanted him was driving him crazy.
He felt like a man starved when it came to you, barely holding back from his desires to just give in and kiss you, to feel how good you felt for him, he wanted you. He knew he had feelings for you and all he wanted to do was act on them.
The rain started to fall when you were five blocks from your apartment and began to pour down by the time you were two blocks away. Matt’s hand found yours and you felt the same familiar sparks you always seemed to feel whenever he touched you shoot through your hand.
Matt took off in a run and you had no choice but to follow after him, the two of you laughing and gasping for breath by the time you stood under the small roof at the door of your apartment complex.
The rain had stuck Matt’s suit to him, his hair flat against his head as droplets fell down his cheek and nose. You wanted to reach out and brush his face, wanted to follow the path of the rain drops and trail kisses all the way down to his lips.
Matt could hear the way your heart had sped up even more, having nothing to do with the rain and everything to do with whatever thoughts were running through your head. He wanted to know what you were thinking, wanted to give you whatever you wanted, he was torn, so close to throwing everything out the window and giving in.
The two of you went silent as you turned to each other, your eyes drawn to Matt’s lips and you watched as he ducked his head, watched as he went to lean in before you closed your eyes.
“I should go.” Matt breathed out and you bit back a huff of disappointment, letting your eyes open to look at his sad smile.
“Okay.” You murmured, debating on whether you should be the one to take the risk and close the distance between you, suddenly so sure that Matt wanted you, but you weren’t brave enough.
You knew you’d spend the rest of your life regretting that.
You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life regretting it though, even if Matt couldn’t give you what you wanted you knew he wanted at least one night with you and you’d do anything for it, anything to feel how electric Matt’s kisses were, anything to feel how good his hands running along your body could feel, anything to run your fingers through his hair to pull him into a kiss.
You watched as Matt stepped out into the rain, watched him walk to the end of your street before freezing. You decided you were going to be brave, didn’t let your mind become overwhelmed with all the reasons this was a bad idea and instead followed him out in the rain, feeling a shiver run down your spine and not knowing whether it was from anticipation or the cold.
Matt seemed to have the same idea, turning around on his heel and meeting you halfway, cupping your face in his hands and practically smashing your lips together in a rushed and messy kiss, your noses knocking against each other as your hands gripped his wet suit.
The kiss was everything you had thought it was going to be, if you thought Matt brushing against your hand was enough to send a rush of electricity through you then it wasn’t nothing compared to the sparks flying as he kissed you.
The two of you stayed out in the rain kissing until you had to pull away for air, both of you drenched through but not even noticing as Matt rested his forehead against yours, the two of you breathing heavily against each other.
Matt gave you a second longer to catch your breath before his lips were on yours again, this time his hands found your hips and he nudged you until you were walking backwards towards your apartment, Matt managing to pull himself away so you could open the door before he attached himself to you again, the two of you somehow managing to get up the stairs without breaking apart.
Matt slammed your back into the door, pulling away from your lips to nip at your neck, trailing kisses and pausing to suck bruises into the skin causing you to muffle soft moans as you tried several times to open your apartment door.
Once you were inside Matt wasted no time moving you both to the bedroom, by the time the two of you got there you had both been stripped off your wet clothes and left only in your underwear. Matt sat down on the bed first and pulled you on top of him so that you were straddling him, feeling how hard he was for you.
You moaned as you ran your fingers through his hair, he wet locks tangling around your fingers and you tighten your grip to pull him into another rough kiss, Matt groaning into as you grinded against him, his hand moving towards your hips and dragging you closer, bucking up into you.
“Fuck Y/N, need you so bad.” Matt grunted into your neck when you finally pulled away from each other, his hands running up and down your body causing you to moan.
You shifted down Matt’s body, trailing kisses down his chest until you settled in between his legs, wasting no time in removing his boxers and moaning at the sight of his hard cock, already leaking with pre-cum.
Matt couldn’t stop himself from thrusting into your mouth when your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, forcing his dick half way into you before he restrained himself, listening as you choked and moaning loudly, his hands gripping your hair as you took a breath before you started sucking on his cock like you were made for it.
Matt felt himself hit the back of your throat, moaning even louder as he felt you relax and take him even further. You were making such a mess, he could feel your drool all over his cock, leaking from your mouth and down your chin, he could feel your gaze on him, knew your eyes would be bright and wide especially when he stilled you with the hand in your hair and took over, letting himself lose control as he thrusted himself deep into your mouth.
He had to force himself to pull out before he made an even bigger mess on your face, tempting as the thought was, he needed to be inside of you, needed to feel how good you felt on his cock.
Matt shifted you so that you were laying underneath him, as he settled in between your legs he dipped his head down to smash his lips against yours and feeling the mess you had made had him groaning into it before he pulled away.
You moaned loudly when you felt the head of Matt’s cock pushing at your entrance, spreading you open and stretching you wide. Your hand gripped the bedsheet as you felt him push deeper into you, already feeling fuller than you’d ever felt before he was fully inside you.
Matt kissed you again as he pushed his cock fully inside you, feeling the way you stretched perfectly around him, unable to stop the moans and grunts that escaped him. You were so tight on his cock, the little gasped breaths that left you as he stretched you out ran straight to his cock.
The way he could hear your heart hammering against your chest had him thrusting into you after giving you a minute to adjust to him and you were crying out in pleasure as he set a rough pace, slamming in and out of you like he couldn’t control himself, his fingers rubbing against your clit causing your toes to curl and back to arch as you fisted the sheets and moaned mindlessly.
Matt trailed kissed down to your neck, tasting sweat against your skin as your head fell to the side and he wasted no time in covering your skin in even more bruises, marking you as his whilst he slammed into you, whispering praises, telling you how good you felt, how perfect you were, how much he loved feeling you on his cock.
Eventually it was all too much for you and your hands found Matt’s shoulders, fingers digging into his skin as you felt yourself come apart, practically seeing sparks fly as you came on his cock whilst he continued thrusting into your sensitive pussy, his fingers still rubbing at your clit causing you to whimper and gasp.
Matt continued thrusting into you, feeling like he was in heaven when he felt you cumming all over his cock and lasted only a few moments longer before he stilled, burying his face in your neck and cumming inside you, giving a few lazy thrusts before he managed to pull himself out of you.
You felt a trail of cum leave your pussy, groaning at how empty you felt now that Matt had left you, the man laying on top of you and trailing lazy kisses along your chest, your hands moving up into his hair, running your fingers through it gently and smiling as he leaned into your touch.
“What is this?” You couldn’t help but ask after a while, keeping your voice soft so as not to disturb the peace between you.
Matt knew he couldn’t leave now, not now that he had had you. He wanted you to be with him, he wanted to be with you in every way possible. He’d do everything he could to protect you, to keep Daredevil and the trouble that seemed to follow the masked vigilante far away from you.
“I love you.” Matt confessed, smiling as he felt your heart stutter before speeding up. “I was scared but I love you, Y/N/N, I want you to be mine.”
“I’d like that.” You murmured, letting your lips press against his hair. “I love you too.”
You were ecstatic, for so long you had thought you would never know what it would be like to have Matt feel anything other than friendship for you and now he was here, in your bed, telling you he loved you. It was better than all your wildest dreams, holding Matt close and falling asleep in his arms, glad you had been brave enough and knowing you wouldn’t have to live the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you’d just kissed him in the pouring rain.
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Thank you so much for reading!!💜
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jaggedamethyst · 2 months ago
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that will be enough (matt murdock x reader)
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pairing: matt murdock x reader
content: reader has holiday anxiety (me lol), angst, some fluff if you squint
notes: I have missed matt honestly...but this is something short while I work on some other things. if you also have holiday anxiety...sending love. as always, I dont believe in proofreading.
full masterlist linked here
For Matt, the holidays were yet another reminder of the love he had in his heart—most of all for his dad. The love he had for you was intense, yet differed from the emotion held for his late father. While having laid the great Jack to rest, the feeling of doing so always persistent in his mind, he could forget it was there. With you, the warmth consistently filled his body. It made sense, then, that he was exceptionally in tune to your every action. 
Matt dreaded his somber mood during this time of year. He quickly noticed, too, your feigned enjoyment. Whether it be a mindless repetitive tapping, or a grimace at the sight of even more holiday decor—the disdain was clear. 
You’d forced yourself to accept invitations, RSVP, and show up to events this year. With each one, you were reminded of how little you actually had. Not financially, per say, but the lack of family. It was easy to say that that intimacy could be found anywhere, but people sucked. It was officially true that with your low tolerance for bullshit, you had girl bossed your way into having no friends, no family to see, and nobody to love—besides Matt. The thought made you pull away from him. The thought of placing all of this onto Matt alone—to be the only important thing in your life—was a lot. So when you found yourself at another winter soiree, Matt attached at your hip, it was easy for him to notice you weren’t okay. 
He tried to talk to you a few times, you hadn’t responded. Not purposely ignoring him, he noticed, but regressing into that state you would sometimes when you were overstimulated. There was so much happening, you couldn’t process everything. The music was meant to be the obligatory party soundtrack. You let out a huff at the ambience seemingly blaring in your ears. Your head was pounding. There were too many people. Too much talking. Not enough quiet. 
You felt a hand on your back. You turned to see Matt there, as always. You tried to hide the immediate response your body had to him, but you both knew that he was aware. 
“You okay?” His voice the only thing making sense was common for you. He’d say the same about you. When you didn’t respond, he continued, “How are you feeling?” He rubbed a few circles into your lower back, before resting his hand on your waist. 
You nodded, a hesitance there, “I’m o-okay.” You turned your head away, embarrassed by your inability to say two words without choking up. 
Without a word, Matt grasped your hand and pulled you from the table you’d be standing at. You followed him, always willing to do so, you’d go wherever he went. Shut up. You quieted your own thoughts. How pathetic it was to be so incapable and reliant on a man. Your lip quivered. Matt turned to you, again, sensing it all. He moved to grab your coats—sliding on yours, then his. 
“Come on.” 
Your feet were moving on their own. You let the feeling of his arm pulling yours lead you into the elevator. You sniffled, still not much on your mind other than the immense failure you were. 
“Hey,” Matt turned to you as the doors closed. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.” 
You felt the tears building, the pressure burning your eyes. “It won’t.” 
He was in front of you now, the twinge of salt in your tears hitting the air and his lips. Matt turned swiftly, hitting the stop button. You stumbled at the jolt and grasped for the wall for support. 
“Matt! What are you doing?”
“What are you feeling?”
“Nothing, I’m good.”
He tilted his head as he did, “Lie.” 
“I hate you,” 
“Another lie.” 
You turned to face the elevator wall. You sucked your teeth at your reflection. He was always so in tune, whether good or bad you still were not sure. It was times like this, where you let as if you were crawling in your skin, that the thought of explaining that phenomenon made you feel ill. 
He interrupted the thought, “It’s okay.” Don’t get yourself worked up. 
A split second later you spoke frantically, “I don’t think I can live without you.” The words blended together, the embarrassment increasing with every letter that left your mouth. 
He smiled a bit, nodding, “Thats good to hear…seeing as I don’t really plan on going anywhere.” 
The sound of you inhaling and exhaling slow filled the elevator cart. You looked at him, then. “What I mean…meant…is that…I am overwhelmed right now.” 
An arched brow and a nod encouraged you to continue. 
“I have nobody,” He opened his mouth to interrupt. You quieted him with your hand up, “…except you. Which isn’t…ideal.” There was sympathy, but silence still. He allowed you the space, here, to say everything. “Whenever we’re out…when I’m out…I feel so lonely. It’s like this time of year just heightens that feeling I have that everything should be perfect. But nothing is. Nothing can be.” You paused, “But I want it to.” 
“I miss my dad.” Matt stated plainly. “And I don’t really talk to my mom.” It was your turn to nod this time. “I have a few people I care about, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough. Especially during Christmas.” He went to lean on the opposite elevator wall as you were standing. “I imagined myself having years way beyond what I had with my dad. In church on Christmas, or maybe watching movies with him…I didn’t get much of that.” He stabilized himself, removing his red frames with one hand. “I don’t want you to feel burdened by the expectation of what a cookie-cutter life should be. Sometimes there’s other plans for us…and honestly…if we only have each other, forever, that will be enough for me.” 
You nodded aggressively, trying to make sense of that. You tried to drill the words into your mind so as to never be in this state again. 
“I hate Christmas.” 
Matt moved to hit the button, “Me too, babe.”
There wasn’t much said on the way to his apartment, nor when you’d both crawled into bed. After a while, Matt grabbed your palm and kissed the back of your hand. He spoke into your now intertwined fingers. “I can’t live without you either, by the way.” 
“Good to know that we’re both extremely helpless individuals.”
He chuckled, “We truly belong together”
You hummed. The intense feeling hadn’t completely left you, but rather been satiated by the knowledge that despite its existence—Matt would always be there, too.
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dameronology · 1 month ago
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what are your softest headcanons for matt and frank?
i always love soft
matt
matt doesn't need to be lead by anyone really bc of his heightened senses but he also loves when you hold his arm in public
actually he just leaves feeling you nearby; walking beside you, sitting beside you, it doesn't matter. he just likes to know you're there.
even in a crowd of thousand people he could find you. he has your specific scent memorised and no matter how busy a place is, he knows exactly where you are
the sound of you breathing helps matt drift off to sleep
when he is deep in thought he will absentmindedly play with your fingers
your head fits so perfectly in the crook of his neck that he's convinced it's fate
if you've worn one of matt's shirt recently and it's not dirty, he will wear it the next day bc it smells of you
frank
frank likes having his hair played with
in fact, he's a human version of a pit bull. big and tough and strong, but for you he is a lapdog and any form of head scratches/stroking his arm etc is like a reset button for him
if you're ever out late, frank will refuse to go to sleep until you're home
and no matter how late he's up, frank will always get up before you to make sure there's a coffee for when you wake up
he has a terrible habit of coming straight out the shower when he is still dripping wet and curling up beside you
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cyripticchronicler · 1 year ago
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Main Masterlist <3
Requests are open!
Click here to be added to the tag list!
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The Marauders Era
James Potter
Sirius Black
Remus Lupin
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Criminal Minds
Spencer Reid
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Matt Murdock
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ACOTAR
Azriel
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farfromstrange · 1 year ago
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Just Let Me Love You | Matt Murdock x Reader
Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (f!Reader heavily implied)
Summary: You're struggling with your body image and Matt notices
Warnings: Angst, TW: allusions to an ED, self-deprecating talk (Reader has internalized fatphobia toward herself), not proof red (I was too emotional for that)
Word Count: 2.1k
A/n: So, my body is changing and I hate it. As someone who was the Fat Funny Friend growing up, I got inspired by the song. Now I wasn't sure if to tag for a plus-sized reader because when I wrote this, I had myself in mind, and I'm not even sure what "category" I fall into, so this is pretty universal and I think any of you who are struggling with body dysmorphia might appreciate this. Heed the warnings before proceeding and don't forget to eat if you haven't already! (Also, I used my tag list to tag for this, but don't read it if this triggers you, please!)
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Our brains are wired to function in a certain way. But not every brain is balanced in chemistry. 
For the longest time, she thought there was something seriously wrong with her. She never fit in anywhere, so she tried to make herself fit. Change her attitude, change her behavior, change her hobbies, and change the way she looks. She did it so many times, she lost count. 
She relied on humor, telling funny little anecdotes to make whatever friend group she was a part of at the time laugh at her. But that was all she could do. Make them laugh. She lit up the mood, lit up the room, but she seemingly never lit up anyone’s heart the way her friends did. 
They talked about their relationships, talked about their families and friends, and she played along. She listened. When she talked about her likes, they pretended to care, but within minutes, they lost interest. She thought it just wasn’t that important. Not as important as how beautiful they all were, anyway. And they were striking, she thought. That’s why everyone always chose them and never approached her. But she swallowed it to at least be a part of something. 
She always helped everyone but herself. She was there when no one else was, but even when she was a part of something, she never fully fit in. There was an impossible standard looming over her head, and she couldn’t possibly reach it. 
Don’t be too loud. Don’t be too silly. Don’t say no. Don’t talk about your problems, only listen to everyone else’s. Don’t believe that he wants you because he is too good for you, and all he wants is your best friend who is ten times prettier than you. And don’t believe that personality and humor will get you anywhere; you will end up miserably alone the same way people who look like you always will. 
The same voice, over and over again. Word turning into knives. It was exhausting to fight against the demons within her because they just sounded so damn convincing. 
When she met him, the man who stole her heart, she never thought he would ask her out. When he did, she was dumbfounded. In every possible situation, he found himself assuring her that he wouldn’t drop her for the pretty blonde in the office, or his psychotic ex-girlfriend who just happened to have the most beautiful body known to man. To her, at least. Everyone around him was just so beautiful, and he was even more so–he was the prettiest specimen in the world, and everyone desired him. Of course, she grew insecure. She couldn’t help it. It was a reflex.
She fell in love with a man who finally saw her for who she was and he loved her despite—no, he loved her regardless. For who she was. He took her, accepted her, and began seeing her as the most beautiful person in the world. For the first time, she felt appreciated, loved, and not so miserably alone. 
Yet, the fear continued to linger. The fear that one day, he would notice that perhaps, a woman of average looks wouldn’t be enough for him anymore. That she was, indeed, as unconventionally unattractive as everyone said she was from the first day she actually understood what was being said to her. She was just a child then. 
The funny friend. The awkward friend. The weird one. The girl without real friends. The girl with the silly clothes, the silly smile, the slightly crooked teeth, the belly pouch… The girl who lost weight, the girl who gained weight, and the girl who shouldn’t be so proud of herself because she had nothing to be proud of. 
“Sweetheart?” he asked her, yanking her out of the downward spiral that only continued to get worse over time. “Did you have anything to eat yet?”
He stood in the kitchen, the sleeves of his dress shirt bunched around his elbow. It was hot outside, too hot for her liking, and even his clothes were slightly stained with sweat. 
She looked up from the couch, still wrapped up in a blanket despite the high temperatures, a book resting on her thighs. He met her eyes with a smile. 
“I noticed your leftovers are still in the fridge. Could smell them,” he clarified. “I was just wondering whether that was on purpose or not.”
Worrying fit it better, she thought to herself. He always worried too much. 
She closed her book. “I might’ve forgotten,” she said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 
His eyebrows furrowed. “You forgot?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but it never reached his eyes. 
“Yeah. I probably got too caught up reading or something. It’s no big deal. I’ll eat later. Or drink another latte.”
He hummed. “You know, iced coffee is not considered a healthy diet. Your body needs fuel.”
“Jesus Christ, Matt,” she raised her voice, “I’m okay!”
“You don’t look okay,” he stated as a matter of fact. 
“And how would you know?”
“I just do.”
He approached, his muscles straining against his shirt. It wasn’t fair, how good he looked. How well he carried himself. And he still had the audacity to look at her and tell her she had much more going for herself than just her humor. That she was beautiful. Pretty enough. 
“Hey,” Matt lowered himself on the couch beside her, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh?”
“I forgot to eat, I told you,” she said.
“I don’t believe you.”
“But it’s the truth.”
“Not if you did it on purpose.”
The book landed on the coffee table and she got up, pacing the small space of their shared apartment in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen. He could hear her heartbeat pounding against her ribcage, the pent-up tears, and the tension, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out. But he waited. He gave her the space she needed to collect her thoughts.
“I forgot,” she repeated. “At first. And then I just happened to pass by a mirror and…and I looked at myself. I mean, really looked at myself.”
“Oh–” He sighed. “Baby…”
“I’m smaller when my stomach is empty, you know. And I thought it wouldn’t hurt me to, uh…cut back a little?”
He was about to respond, but she cut him off. “I don’t mean that I’m starving myself. I just…I forgot to eat, and then, when I remembered, I remembered what I saw and I was just…I’m not hungry anymore. I…I don’t think it’s a big deal. I’m not doing it on purpose, I’m just…”
She stopped pacing. She met his unfocused hazel eyes that held so much pain when he looked at her. He reached out, not saying a word, and she extended her shaky fingers toward the lifeline he was throwing. 
“Oh, God,” she whispered. She realized then why he looked so hurt. “It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”
The question hung in the room as he pulled her toward himself. 
She didn’t protest when he pulled her back onto the couch, his arms engulfing her and pulling her back against his sturdy chest.
“What makes you think that you need to hurt yourself to fit some unrealistic beauty standard?” he asked softly, his voice merely a breath tickling her ear. 
She whimpered, not wanting to answer. 
“What makes you think that not being healthy is the solution to the way you see yourself? Wouldn’t that just make it worse?”
“I just…” She took a deep breath. “I just… I just want to be enough.”
“But you are enough,” he answered in a heartbeat, placing his hand on her neck and turning her face to him. He missed her face with his gaze, but she could still feel him in every fiber of her being as he sat there and felt her pulse, and she matched her breathing to his. 
A tear rolled down her cheek. “You don’t understand what it’s like,” she whispered back. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be only seen as the comedic relief in every relationship you have ever been in while your friends pulled the guys you wanted. Because they never wanted you, and they never saw competition in you either because you were just never the center of anyone’s attention.”
He was silent for a moment. The taste of her tears reached his tongue, and he visibly recoiled at the pain she held inside of her. Matt pulled her closer, holding her a little tighter. She melted. 
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of leaving her to deal with her thoughts, he placed his lips against her ear again. “You’re the center of my attention,” he said. “Of my world. My universe. And I couldn’t care less about the way you look.”
“That’s because you’re blind,” she shot back, a sob rippling through her body. 
He shook his head. “No. Those who reduce you to your looks are blind, and they don’t even deserve you in the first place. What matters most is this–” his large hand found its way onto the left side of her chest, above her heart. “What’s in here is what makes you beautiful, not what covers the outside.”
“But that’s not enough, is it?”
“To me, it is.”
“Not to me, Matthew. Like I said, you don’t get it.”
She struggled against his grip, but he wouldn’t let her go. “Then let me rephrase it,” he tried again, pressing his hand further against her chest. “I care more about who you are inside because I love you. But I don’t need sight to appreciate your physical beauty along with the sound of your heartbeat. Your breathing. Your touch. You know why?”
She shook her head. “Enlighten me.”
“Because I can feel you, sweetheart, and you are the most breathtaking human being I have ever had the pleasure of laying my hands on.”
If words were enough to make a person pass out, this would surely have been her breaking point. 
“You mean that?” She turned around, her tears now glistening with a taste of hope. 
He brushed them away with his thumb and nodded. “Every last word.”
Her eyes fluttered closed at the ghost of his touch. “I don’t like my body,” the admission came quietly.
In response, Matt nodded. “I know, but you have nothing to be ashamed of. That body deserves to be loved. You deserve to be loved.”
“I feel like…like I don’t deserve you. I don’t want you to leave me for…for Karen.”
The mention of her name caused him to frown. “Karen?” he asked. She nodded. He sighed, forcing her head to his chest, forcing her to listen to his heartbeat the same way he always did to her. “Don’t even think like that,” he told her. “I would never leave you for someone else. For no one, for nothing. I need you to stop assuming that, sweetheart. It’s not true.”
“It feels true,” she cried. 
His lips brushed the crown of her head. “But it isn’t.”
“But–”
“I love you,” he said, a bit more insistent this time. “Only you. I would rather die than never be with you again. And I mean that. Bring me the poison and I’ll prove it to you. I’ll get on my knees and worship the ground you walk on if that’ll make you believe me, but I won’t leave you.”
She clung to him, her nails digging into his shirt. Matt shushed her, his fingers brushing through her hair. The rhythm was soothing. 
She sobbed until she had nothing left to give. She cried because she knew he was right. She knew she was overthinking, but she was powerless to fight it. He was the only one who could open her eyes, and even then, she more often than not slipped away. She hated it. She hated the way her brain was wired, the things she was taught, and the things she continuously and wrongly kept teaching herself. 
Eventually, though, she slacked in his arms. 
“I don’t really like myself right now,” she confessed. “But I don’t know how to stop it.”
Matt chuckled softly, his chest rumbling. He tilted her chin up. “Then let me help you,” he said. 
“How?” she asked. 
He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a gentle kiss. “Just let me love you.” 
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Tagging from Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @ravenclaw617 @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten
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skylarinfinity · 2 years ago
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matt: [talking to foggy] i really love m/n but i will never trust him.
foggy: [look at matt with confused] but when you love someone don't you need to trust them- [stop talking when he see the villain they been hunting for years walk in through the front door and it's actually m/n]
matt: [sighed] see what i'm saying?
m/n: [don't care he get caught] matt you can't see...
matt: [deep sigh] heard what i'm saying?
foggy:
tags lists @sonicqaulan @graysonfriggason @thebettermaximofftwins @sloanalistair @acienthazard @starlinggoldeneyes @ortegaolsen @wednesdaywanda @sandwichmarvel @gardenofmarvel @wanda-cabin-natasha-jacket @panandinpain0 @badblondebisexualboy
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shadowbriar · 5 months ago
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Matt Murdock - Waste My Time I
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Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her)Reader  Word Count : 4.6k Warning : Some curses. Fluff. Some cliff hanger, I think? Sets on Matt's uni years. Notes : I will do some updates on the prologue to better fit the plot. Let me know if you wanna be tagged for future chapters. Cheers! x If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕
↞ Prologue
The smell of sugar and roasted beans were thick in the air. The establishment was packed with people. It wasn’t the usual cafe Matt and Foggy would go to. No, the cheap coffee truck on the way to the campus or perhaps the vending machine by their Advanced Constitutional Law class would do to grab a cup of americano from, but today isn’t one of those days. 
Today is one of those days when Foggy would drag him to the other side of the city just to pick up some special sandwich that would guarantee a forgiveness pass from Marci. Today is one of those days when Foggy would pay for his americano, only to forget his wallet by the bedside table. Today is one of those days when Foggy would have to make another promise to pay for his meal as the blonde had to bail and run to give Marci her sandwich.
Now Matt, ever the understanding friend, certainly paid no mind with all of the troubles Foggy dragged him into this morning. He figured he could use the long way to his classes this morning. To try and see what exactly is on the other side of the campus when the sun is still out. When he was in his normal clothes and not hunting robbers. When he could actually be Matt Murdock and not the Daredevil.
But now standing by the side aisle to pick up his order, Matt knew that the lady who was too busy arguing on the phone with who seems to be a disastrous ex-husband, accidentally picked up his americano and left him with what smells to be a matcha latte with twice if not thrice the normal sugar level.
Matt’s lips pout a little. He’s certainly not in the mood to jump start his day with a lethal dose of diabetes, but Foggy’s left minutes ago and he couldn’t just call the barista to exchange his order without actually tasting the beverage. What excuse would he give? That he could smell that the drink in his hand isn’t what he ordered?
“Hi, sorry,” A voice of salvation echoes from his right. A woman who’s now approaching him with a gentle voice greets. Matt could taste the uncertainty in her tone, how her heart beats a little awkwardly as if she wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing yet she does it anyway “I’m really sorry to be coming off as a creep like this, but I don’t think that’s your order.”
“No?” Matt asks with a raised eyebrow.
“No, I think the lady before you mistook your order.” She explained, taking the cup away from his hand “I overheard your order with your friend earlier, I was queueing behind you. You ordered an americano, right? This is a hot matcha.”
“Oh,” Matt says, feigning surprise “I wouldn’t have known.”
“Yeah.. Here, you can take my americano.” She offers, pushing her cup to his hand “I haven’t touched it or anything, I promise. It’s clean.”
“No, it’s fine I can just ask the barista—” Matt’s words were interrupted when his phone beeped, followed by the automatic reminder: his Conflict of Laws class starts in five minutes “Shit.”
“Yeah, just take it,” She insists “I’ll ask the barista to redo my order. It’s fine, really.”
“Thank you.” Matt says, accepting the warm cup at last “I appreciate it.”
“It’s no big deal.”
Matt wanted to prolong their conversation. She seems to be a genuinely kind person. Had he not been in a rush for being on the other side of the campus and having to come to class on time as Professor Barton would lock the door a second past nine, he would have stayed and continued talking to this one kind soul. At the very least, he would have asked for her name and asked if he could repay her kindness, perhaps with a slice of pizza and cold beer after class. But today isn’t one of those days.
Today is one of those days when he passed by someone he would wish he had more time to spare with. Today is one of those days when he met someone he would think of longer than the time he spent with said person. Today is one of those days when he hoped that he would meet her again.
—-
Her hair was dishevelled. She dares not to look at the time as it would only fuel her anxiety even worse. She planned to have her essays done before the clock strikes nine, but it has been hours since and she could barely call herself half way there.
The bigger side of the library has now turned dark. Students have retreated back to their bedrooms or have found themselves better things to waste the night with. It was Friday, afterall. Most wouldn’t even think of stepping their foot inside for the night, yet here she is, trying her best to stay afloat on the ocean of assignments that she’s evidently drowning in.
But when she was ready to take the consolation prize for being the most pathetic student of the year, a boy took the seat in front of her. He took out the things from his bag—several heavy textbooks and a laptop—as he tried to find comfort on the table, completely oblivious to her presence.
It was that boy. The boy she helped the other day in the cafe. Well, the word help would certainly be an overstatement as she only pointed out that he was holding the wrong order and offered hers in replacement, but she had a slight nervousness in her bones as she felt it was overstepping of her when she offered the proposal, so thinking that she was helping him feels a little rewarding and helped soothe her nerves a little.
She silently stares at him as he continues his work. His fingers trace the braille on his textbooks, mouth slightly moving as he tries to read the passages. The boy was beautiful to say the least. Like a beautiful painting you wouldn’t grow bored of even after hours of staring. The soft light of the library was hitting his face in all the right directions, enhancing his features that truthfully need no betterment yet it accentuates his beauty nonetheless.
Five if not fifteen minutes after her staring, she realises that she has to make her presence known. She wouldn’t want him to be startled if she makes any noises or movements, or worse makes him feel unsafe by her stealthy actions. The last thing she would want is to make him feel like she was a threat instead of a friend.
She taps on the table lightly, catching his attention, “Uh, I just want to let you know that you’re not alone at this table.”
“Oh, right,” The boy answers “Should I move?”
“No, no! I just wanted to let you know, that’s all. Please don’t move.” She says fast.
The boy’s lips curved into a smile but his brows knitted, “I’m sorry, have we met before? You sound familiar.”
“Uh, yeah, I’m the girl from the cafe,” She says, the same uncertainty lacing her tone “I swear I’m not trying to stalk you or anything. I just happen to be in the same place you are for some reason.”
“I never thought of you as one,” The boy says with a smile “I’m Matt, by the way.”
She tells him her name.
Matt whispers her name, letting it roll on his tongue like it’s going to settle for a long time there, “I don’t mean to be rude, but what are you doing in a library on a Friday?”
“The same reason as you have, I’m sure.” She says with a sigh, not wanting to elaborate “What major are you taking?”
“Law, you?”
“International Affairs.” She answered, biting on her pencil as she judged him “Law, huh? Well, aren’t you a smarty pants.”
Matt chuckles. 
Her heart skipped a beat.
Stupid heart.
“Listen,” Matt says after a visible nervous lick of his lips “I hope this isn’t too straight forward, but I really appreciate what you did the other day, and I figured I owe you some form of gratitude, so I was wondering if.. You’d be free some time soon? Maybe this weekend? We can grab some food and sit by the park or do whatever it is you find amusing.”
Her smile grows, “Are you asking me for a date?”
“No, I’m showing you my gratitude,” He argues “But masked as a date, yes.”
It was practically impossible for her to bite down her grin by now. Eternally grateful that most of the lights in the library are out and that he couldn’t see the stupid smile on her face. She was sure that her cheeks were red and that her eyes were as big as puppy’s with how charming Matt is. Exactly how more perfect can the man sitting in front of her be? Beautiful face, delightful talking, and certainly a brilliant mind. At this point he could either be her knight in shining armour or a complete psychopath, no in between.
“So.. Would you have any free time?”
“How’s next week? Friday?”
Matt nods, smiling softly, “Friday it is.”
—-
Days leading up to the date passed as slow as it could get, even when they were spent by meeting her at the library before his night patrols. Matt knew that it was practically wrong of him to insert himself in her life. To come uninvited to her table that night, acting as if he didn’t know it was her nor did he not know of her presence, but in his defence, he didn’t deliberately plan to meet her. It only so happened that he finished his nightly patrol quickly that night and that she was in the library when he initially wanted to spend the rest of the night finishing his paperworks.
At that moment, he thought that God was aligning their stars. It wasn’t everyday that he had the urge to finish patrol early. It wasn’t everynight that he wanted to spend the rest of the night in the library. It certainly wasn’t every Friday that he would find her there. In fact, he couldn’t recall if she’s ever been to the library before. He would’ve caught the familiarity of her scent at the cafe if she was a regular there.
Though Matt knew that he couldn’t offer much to her, not his full time nor attention as they’re both reserved to keeping Hell’s Kitchen a little safer each night, Matt was willing to give everything he has left to get to know her better. It wasn’t everyday he could meet someone who would treat her with kindness that is pacifying without any hint of humiliation. She knows just the right amount of care to show without having to walk on eggshells around him and that’s something Matt very much appreciates.
All of it felt like it was meant to be. That he was meant to get that wrong order and that she was to intervene and rescue him from that God awful latte. It felt like he was meant to go to the library that night and meet her once again. And it certainly felt like their date tonight was meant to happen.
“Oh, this is gold,” She moans as she takes another bite of their pizza.
Matt smiles, satisfied to hear her blissful commentary, “It’s good, isn’t it?”
“The best,” She says shortly. There was a sudden silence from her and Matt wonders if something had happened but she quickly speaks “Uh, you’ve got.. Um, you’ve got some sauce on your lips.”
“Yeah?” Matt asks, his free hand wiping the sides of his lips.
“It’s still there. I think it’s dried a little,” She says, that hint of uncertainty reappearing in her voice “Can I just?”
“Yeah, go for it.”
And she wipes the corner of his lips gently. The warmth of his skin was in contrast to the cold wind that gushed their way and it only amplified the butterflies in her stomach as their skin made contact. Supposed he felt the unexpected jolt of electricity too because his jaw tenses a little before he lets out a sigh when she finishes wiping his lips.
“Thanks.” Matt whispers with a smile.
She didn’t say a word, only humming a little to show response.
Had Matt not have his heightened senses, he would have thought that something wrong happened but he could hear the not-so-steady beat of her heart and how her body heat rises a little. She was just nervous, just as much, if not less erratic than he is. If only she could feel his heart and hear just how loudly it’s beating right now, acting as if it’s trying to burst forth his ribcage, she would perhaps feel a little less agitated.
It was too soon to say, but Matt couldn’t ignore all the blissful connections they’ve shared. He felt as if he’s finally met his match. The knot to his strings, the solace to his rage. He knew that there’s still so many layers of himself that he’s yet to show her, the sides of Matt Murdock and Daredevil that he’s yet to expose to her, but for reasons he couldn’t explain, he felt like he could take his time and savour the moment as it unfolds.
A little egoistic of him, but what exactly can he do at the time?
“This is great,” She says, breaking his train of thought “I very much enjoyed tonight.”
“Oh no, are we reaching the end of the night?”
“No,” She chuckles, shaking her head “I just wanted to say it, just in case I forget to and you wonder if I’m having a great time or not.”
Matt grins, his heart swells in pride and joy, “I’m having a great time, too.”
The night passes far too fast for either of their liking. There seems to be a never ending topic for the both of them to discuss. From the major they’re taking, their roommates, down to how honking your car is illegal here in New York, everything feels like an interesting subject to dissect. Like an overflowing flow of soft ripples that hit your ankles on the beach shore. Soothing and intriguing at the same time.
Both their feet now carry them around the city, directionless yet certainly not lost. She was clutching on his arm, trying to make sure that he wouldn’t trip as they walked through the park and around the neighbourhood. For most it would certainly be the most bland date as neither of them knew where to go nor what to do, but neither of them had any complaints. It was perfect as it is.
Until it wasn’t.
Matt could feel the sudden spike of her heartbeat. Whoever it is that’s standing by the porch, whoever’s house party it is that they stumbled upon, she certainly didn’t have any intention to join nor stopped by at it, yet from the sweat that’s starting to build on her skin, he knew that she has to.
“About time you appear!” Some girl yells, clearly directed at her.
“Shoot,” She mutters, sounding like she was caught red handed over some crime he wasn’t sure about “She’s going to have my head on a spike for this one.”
“Is everything okay?” Matt asks, his brows knitted in confusion.
“Yeah, it’s just my friend’s birthday and I— Fuck,” She curses, running a hand through her hair “I completely forgot it’s today.”
Matt forces a smile, “It’s fine, we can call it a night.”
“No, I’ll be right back,” She whispers to him, squeezing his arm a little before she jogs a little to the group of people on the porch.
“Oh, you’re in so much trouble,” One of the girls says as she approaches them “Gaby’s been asking for you for hours! Your phone’s dead, we couldn’t reach you—,”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” She apologises, she was honest with her apology, Matt could hear it in her heartbeat “I completely forgot about her birthday party, and I double booked tonight, and I just—”
“So you chose to bail on your best friend's birthday instead?” Her friend argues.
“I mean, he’s cute, I would totally bail on Gaby’s birthday too,” Her other friend commented, making Matt smile a little “Who’s he? I didn’t know you’re seeing someone.”
“I— It’s a long story, okay? I’ll tell you guys later,” She frantically says, trying to save herself from the wrath of her friends “I’ll call it a night with him. Please don’t tell Gaby that I forgot about her birthday, okay? Just tell her I overslept or something.”
Matt bites the inner of his cheek. One of the downplay of hearing every and each conversation others have is knowing what’s to come before it actually hits you. Sure it might come as useful for certain times, but Matt was reluctant to bid his goodbye just yet. He wanted the night to last just a little bit longer, to feel her presence just a few hours longer and to walk around with her just a few miles further. Now it’s clear that he would have to scrape those desires off of his list.
“I am so so so sorry about this,” She says as she comes close to him, her words dripping with regret and guilt “I completely forgot about her birthday party and I just— God, we should’ve taken a left from that park.”
Matt chuckles, “We should have, yeah.”
“I’m really sorry,” She says once again “I’d invite you in but I don’t know how Gaby would react with me being four hours late to her birthday party and I really don’t want you to be trialled for it with me.”
“I understand, don’t worry about it.”
“God, I’m really the biggest arsehole there is, huh?”
“For now, yes,” Matt jests “But don’t worry about it. I had a great time.”
“I had a great time, too. Do you.. Do you know the way back?”
Matt nods, “I’ll manage.”
“Okay,” She smiles apologetically, clearly not wanting to part either yet her feet are already moving towards the house as her friends continue to call for her “I’m really sorry, Matt. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
Once again, Matt nods and smiles.
He turns his body away from the house, retracing his way back to the campus. Sure it wasn’t the most ideal way to end their date, he feels like he could and deserves to yell a bit to her friends for stealing her away from him ever so rudely like that, but he figures that he’s had his fair share of her tonight. He reminds himself that it was a Friday night. It was honestly a little too good to be true for someone as delightful as her to have her night free of dates and appointments, so to find out that she’s actually booked for a party is certainly not much of a surprise. Matt only wished that he didn’t know it the way he did.
They certainly should’ve taken a left from the park and avoided this neighbourhood altogether.
“Wait, Matt!”
Matt’s pace was put to a halt. He turns back to face the direction of her voice. He could hear her slight pants and the slight jog she made toward him. A small smile returned to his face, “Yes?”
“You surely didn’t think I’d let you go without a kiss, did you?” She asks, her breathing fickle from the short exercise “Or did you not want one?”
“I’d love one,” He says fast “Please.”
Matt’s grip on his cane tightened a little as she took a step closer. She places her arms around his shoulders and Matt swore he suddenly forgets what’s to do with his limbs. He wasn’t sure if he should put his hands on her waist or should he keep still. It was very much out of character for him. He’s had kisses before, had dates with plenty of other girls, but how is it that he has no idea how to act when it comes to her?
When their lips met, Matt swears that he could climb the Empire State Building with his bare hands. It was an uneventful kiss, certainly not the most creative that he’s ever had, but the electricity he felt was beyond compare. It was as if the kisses he’s had before were mere teasers to what it truly is. Like he was deprived of something he’s been so hungry from. Like he was deprived of her.
“I had a great time tonight,” She says as they part, sounding as if the kiss didn’t just flip her whole world upside down like it did to him “I’ll see you soon?”
“Tomorrow,” He promises “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” She agrees through her smile “Goodnight, Matt.”
“Goodnight.”
—-
She chews on her lower lip as if determined to make them bleed once again. Her eyes were glued to the clock, watching as it ticks with each second instead of averting her focus back to the papers on her table. Finishing her tasks prove to be a more challenging issue to tackle with each passing day.
Before she knew it, it was already Thursday. Matt promised to meet her the next day after their date, yet such a promise was never fulfilled. She figured that he might just have to do a rain check about their meeting, perhaps having some last minute task that he has to finish before the weekend ended, but even when Monday comes, he still was a no show.
Sorry, something happened. Will be in touch once it’s resolved. M
Now what should a girl do with such a short message?
Each day she would wake up early to go to the cafe where they first met and each noon when her classes were finished, she would try to run herself to the library, hoping that he would magically pop up out of nowhere like he did the very first night they met. Those efforts prove to be no avail as the expected man never bothered to make an entrance.
She wonders if their abrupt separation was what caused him to ghost her. She argues, the kiss they shared should’ve been enough to make him overlook the unpleasant farewell. It was much more than enough for her end, but could it be that it wasn’t the same for him? Could it be that he was more baffled about her last minute dick move that he decided to cut it off? Could it be that he’s had enough of her?
“Is this seat reserved?”
Her head perched up, excited to hear the familiar voice that she so missed about, “Unfortunately, yes. It’s been reserved for a week, actually.”
Matt shows an apologetic smile, “Is it still reserved?”
“Depends,” She teases, closing her laptop as she realises that there would be no work done for the rest of the night “If the culprit could explain and give a life-threatening excuse to save himself, I suppose he can still claim his reservation.”
“What if he could only offer an apology and say that he’s desperately sorry for being a douche?”
“No explanation?”
Matt hesitates, “No, none that he could disclose.”
“Not even a little?”
“I—,” Matt licks his bottom lip. It was a habit he does whenever he’s nervous, she notices. He takes the seat and rests his white cane on the side of the table. He looks troubled, like he’s trying to piece words in his mind that he’s not familiar with “Look, I.. I don’t exactly have any explanations to give you. I just.. I have been away. And I fear that I will have to be away for more times than I’d like in the future.”
She remains quiet, listening and watching as he tries to speak.
“I like you, a lot. We had the best date of my life last week, but I don’t think I have what you’re looking for,” He continues, looking conflicted and hurt with his own words “I just— I’m sorry, I really hope I could give more than what I have, but at the same time, I selfishly don’t want to lose you either so if we could just— If we could just be friends, I think I would like that very much.”
Matt could sense the piqued beating of her heart. The news he came to bear was certainly bitter, even more to him than her if he could only be so honest. But what happened earlier this week made him realise that he wasn’t in a position to be in a relationship with anyone. Especially not with someone who looks like she’s willing to go the extra mile for him.
It was supposed to be an easy rescue mission. Some petty robbery that happened on some dingy alley of Hell’s Kitchen that he expected to be settled an hour at most, only to turn out to be a complicated one as he came home with more bruises and wounds than he could count. He had to once again lie to Foggy and say that he was the one being robbed by a group of thugs in order to be able to go to their dorm room and sleep in. But as the lies roll off of his tongue, Matt realises that she would be another person he would have to lie to everytime he comes back bruised from a patrol. She would be another person he would have to deceive with excuses that never truly touch the truth. She would be another tally in his long list of people to ask forgiveness from.
And that’s something he doesn’t think he could live in for long.
So he figured to lock himself inside for a couple of days until his bruises heal. He refuses to meet her when he’s still littered with wounds he couldn’t explain to her about. Even when his finger itches to text her, even when his feet were begging him to let them carry him to the library, even when he was yearning for him more than ever, Matt has to hold himself within the walls of his dorm room that feels like they’re closing in with every passing day.
Now that he finally looks decent enough to go back to his classes, he finally gathered the guts to see and talk to her. There was a mix of bittersweet feelings when he sensed her sitting by their table alone. Relieved to know that she’s waiting, yet sorry that he has to come bearing bad news.
“I.. I don’t know what to say,” She says, blinking rapidly as she tries to digest his words “Are you in some kind of trouble, Matt? You can talk to me if you are. We can try and figure it out.”
“No, no, I’m fine,” He answers “It’s more of a.. Me thing. I just have to deal with some things first.”
She nods, feeling a hint of grief pooling in her heart, “I see.”
There was a pause. Neither have the slightest idea to go forward from this. Both clearly want to continue whatever it is they left off, but they’re truly on a stalemate here, aren’t they? What could she do when he’s asked her to let this go and stay as friends instead? What could he do when he wanted to have her close but only have just started to be the Daredevil? What could they do when they have so much to say yet so little to share?
“I’m really sorry,” Matt says instead.
“No, I understand,” She shakes her head, forcing a smile “Friends it is, then.”
And so it begins. The never ending loop of wasting each other’s time for the sake of wasting time. The never ending cycle of stealing a brush of the other’s hand under the table for the sake of accidental touches. The never ending series of pouring each others’ heart through the stories they share just for the sake of sharing. Always more than what friends do, but never less than what lovers should.
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