#THE CONVERSATION BETWEEN MAGGIE AND MATT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peterman-spideyparker · 1 year

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Speak Now (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Howdy everyone! This fic was voted #2 to post in a poll I did a few weeks ago! I’ve been working with this idea for a while (ie like 9 months), and it’s reverse circumstances of this fic I wrote back in July. I was at work earlier this week with my music on shuffle, and Taylor Sift popped on the playlist, and I’m like “hmm, this works for the fic, I think”, so I’m gonna call reverse ex-post facto inspiration? Alright, now I’m rambling. Enjoy! :)

Summary: Being friends with both Elektra and Matt is by no means easy, especially with them being a couple and your long-standing love for one blind attorney. But regardless, you told yourself you’d always be there for them, no matter what—and that includes being there for them on their wedding day.

Warnings: Angst, hurt comfort, fluff, love confessions, guilt/heartache, ignoring feelings

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, Elektra Natchios, Father Lantom

Word Count: 3,014

It’s fine. You just need to remember to breathe. Foggy has the rings, Father Lantom and Maggie have everything set in the main church—everything is fine. Just a few more minutes, and it’s all over. We get that started, we get down the aisle, and we get Matt and Elektra married. Easy peasy.

“Oh, sorry!” you hear Foggy say, his hands firmly on your shoulders to prevent you from falling down as you bump into one another.

“Thanks!” you breathe, steadying yourself.

“Why are you running around the church like a frantic chicken?”

“Just a lot of energy, you know? Adrenaline. Gotta get it out before the ceremony starts.”

“And how are you doing?” Foggy asks.

“Fine.”

“No, (Y/N), how are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” you try, but to no avail.

“C’mon. You know.”

“I’m hanging on by threads,” you admit shakily. “It’s a lot.”

“Being a bridesmaid and watching your friends get married? Or watching Matt get married to someone else?”

“No, Foggy,” you interject, now determined to kill the conversation where it stands. You thought you put the final nail in the coffin of that thought a year ago at the engagement party.

“But you love him!” he whisper yells.

“Yes, I do! And it’s because I love him that I can’t say anything. For the first time in his life, Matt is happy. He’s ready to do something that he never thought he’d get the chance to enjoy, let alone have, and just as much goes for Elektra. So, I will watch them go down the aisle, I will stand by them as they commit their love and lives to one another, I will watch them kiss and smile and dance, I will help send them off on their honeymoon, watch them welcome their children, and watch them grow old and happy together! They will be happy—finally happy—and that’s what matters.”

“So your happiness doesn’t matter?”

“Not when it comes to Matt’s happiness. Matt’s will always come before mine, and that’s a guarantee.”

“(Y/N)—.”

“Every. Time,” you repeat. “I can’t jeopardize that on the off-chance that he feels an inkling of anything more toward me. I can’t hurt Elektra like that, and I sure as hell can’t unload on Matt like that.”

“But isn’t it better knowing for sure rather than always wondering what if?”

“No,” you say weakly. “Because right now, I know for sure that Matt is happy. I see it in the way he walks, the way he smiles, the way he answers the phone. He is happy, Foggy. And I need to be happy for him. Now, I need to make sure my makeup isn’t ruined, and then I need to go help Elektra before she walks down the aisle.”

“(Y/N)—!”

You pick up the skirt of your dress slightly so you don’t trip, creating as much distance between Foggy and yourself that you can.

“(Y/N), I was worried!” Elektra says as you come back from the bathroom down the hall, having dried your tears and collected yourself from your conversation with Foggy. “I couldn’t find you anywhere! Are you alright?”

“I promise, it’s nothing. You look so beautiful,” you tell her as you spread out her train, plucking off minute pieces of lint from the carpet that clung white fabric.

She gives you a hug and holds me close. “(Y/N)?” she asks as you part. “Can I ask you to do me one last huge favor?”

“I’m your maid of honor—it’s what I’m here for.”

“I know I said I wanted to walk down the aisle alone, but I’m wondering if you would be willing to give me away to Matthew?”

The request is so genuine and the look of hope in her eyes is undeniable. “Of course,” you breathe. “I’m here for you, El. Always.”

She kisses your cheeks and absolutely beams.

“I can’t believe this is finally happening.”

“I’m so happy for you,” you tell her, looping your arm through hers as we get to the double doors. The music begins to kick up and you hear the rustle of people stand just before the doors open, exposing the both of you to the excited eyes of many. It’s far more difficult than you anticipated to plaster on a smile and keep tears at bay when you walk down the aisle next to Elektra, seeing Matt stand there in a tux looking so happy.

God, you wish he was waiting there for you.

That ship has sailed. You can’t drown yourself trying to chase the thought, because you will sink and no one will ever find you. You had opportunities to tell him how you really felt, and you didn’t. You have to live with that.

You don’t know how you’ve managed to get down the aisle so fast with time moving so slow. You can’t bring yourself to say a single word as you place Elektra’s hand in Matt’s before you step to the side to take your place, praying for all eyes to be on them so no one has to watch you suffer with a smile on your face. You affix your eyes on a column just behind Foggy’s head, not willing to try and catch a glimpse of anything that will cause you to feel the multitude of emotions bubbling in your chest.

It’ll be over soon. You’re doing the right thing. This is how it’s supposed to happen. They deserve one another. Words and phrases like these play on your mind in an endless loop as the ceremony progresses, silently praying that you’ll be zoned out enough for when they finally kiss to not process it when you’re drawn to the words coming from Father Lantom’s mouth.

“Elektra Natchios, do you take Matthew Murdock to be your lawfully wedded spouse?” he asks.

To your surprise, she doesn’t answer immediately. You watch her let out a long breath before she gives Matt’s hands a squeeze, the pause and silence growing longer and louder with each passing moment.

“Can we talk?” you hear her whisper to Matt.

“Ellie, what’s wrong?” Matt responds softly, his words barely audible.

Without another word, she takes his hand and they move back up the aisle, and you watch them take a turn to where Elektra was was getting ready just before the ceremony. You lock eyes with Foggy. He wordlessly asks if you know what’s going on with a scrunch of his eyebrows, and you just arch yours in response—the universal cue for “I don’t know”.

“All the excitement,” Father Lantom chuckles, addressing a confused crowd. “They probably need a moment to collect themselves.” He twists toward you before speaking in hushed tones. “Do you know what’s going on?”

“It’s probably like you said—excitement,” you breathe. Or cold feet. But Elektra wouldn’t do that. She’s been waiting so long for a moment like this. For this moment, with Matt. “If they’re not back in a minute, I’ll go check on them.”

The minute passes in the slowest manner possible, but nonetheless, you stick to your word and scurry in the most non-alarming fashion possible to follow where they went. When you’re unable to hear any voices through the only door they’d be behind, you raise your knuckles to the wood.

“Guys?” you knock gently. “Are you doing alright?”

“Yeah, just give us a second,” Matt says, but not before Elektra swings the door open.

“Can you come in for a moment?” she asks softly, and you can see the conflict written all over her face. You let out a small breath, conceding to her request and closing the door behind you.

“Can I get you guys—?” you start, only to be cut off mid-sentence.

“(Y/N), tell us,” Elektra starts, her breathing steady and calm. “Tell us we’re doing the right thing. Tell us we should be getting married.”

“What kind of question is that?” you ask, truly confused.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Elektra—.”

“Repeat the sentences.”

You take a breath, looking at them. “You both love one another. People in love get married. You’re listening to your hearts.”

“You can’t say it.”

“Ellie, I—.”

“You’re holding something back,” Matt adds, his tongue peaking out to lick his lips. “What aren’t you telling us?” His tone is telling. He knows. Damn super hearing.

You sigh, desperately trying to steady your heart rate and deflect. “You’re both just letting the nerves get to you. You’re getting in your heads.”

“We need to hear you say it,” Elektra tries once more. “Please.”

You sigh, feeling your chest tightening. “You’re doing the right thing. You two should get married. You belong together.” You feel like you’re going to be sick as the last piece of your heart shatters before evaporating into nothingness. “I’m going to make sure that everyone is staying calm. I’ll see you both out there soon, okay?”

As you leave the quiet room, you hear the rush of dress shoes follow after you.

“Hey,” Matt says softly, gently catching your arm.

“Matt, things have been delayed enough. We shouldn’t hold them up any longer.”

“You’re still holding something back.”

“Matt—.”

“I can’t get married if my best friend is lying to me about something. (Y/N), please,” he breathes heavily. “Please, just tell me the truth.”

“You look at her the way I always wished you’d look at me, and I die a little bit inside every time I see it,” you admit feebly, watching his expression change through bleary eyes. “That look . . . God, Matt, you love her! I don’t matter in this. Just go and be with her, and for once in your life, stop being such a masochist and be happy!”

With anguish and regret, you pull your arm free from Matt’s grip, making a turn for the double doors that lead outside rather than the ones that lead into the cathedral, needing get as far away from Clinton Church as you can.

“How’d you know I’d be here?” you mumble as you curl into yourself in your favorite reading room at the Columbia Law Library.

“I didn’t,” Matt sighs as he takes a few steps over and sits next to you. “This is where I go when I need to think.”

“Bullshit.”

“Okay, you caught me. I locked in on your heartbeat and followed it.”

“Why, Matt?”

“Why what?”

“Don’t shit with me, Matt,” you sigh in defeat, taking in his undone bowtie and general state of dishevelment in his formal attire. “Why didn’t you just go through with it, Matt? You two love each other.”

“But we love you, too. You’ve always been there for us, even when anyone with a modicum of common sense would have left us.” He turns toward you. “Why didn’t you say anything? To either of us?”

“It wasn’t my place. She loves you, and you love her. Simple as that.”

“But I love you, too.”

“Not in the same way.”

“(Y/N).” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs grazing over your knuckles. “I do love you like that. I didn’t think you felt the same, and my God, I was too afraid to ask. I didn’t want to lose my best friend. I couldn’t lose you.”

You sniffle, still refusing to meet his eyes. “Don’t let Foggy hear that, it’ll give him a complex.”

You hear a small chuckle escape his lips. “It’s true though. I’m not sure what I’d do if I did something that meant not having you in my life. I just kept my feelings locked away deep down in my heart because I knew I needed you in my life however I could have you. And then I heard what you told Foggy, and I . . .” He rests his forehead on yours and nudges you with his nose so you finally look at his face. “Can you give me a chance?”

“I want to, Matt, but . . .”

“Please don’t say but.”

“I’d look at you, and I would only think about how I ruined the happiest day of your life. Besides. You’re the ex now. It’s friend rule number one not to date their ex, no matter how you feel about them. And Elektra . . . I couldn’t do that to her.”

“Even if she gives her blessing?”

You whip your head around, seeing Elektra standing in black jeans and a red turtleneck, her leather jacket covering most of it.

“Elektra, I’m so—,” you start.

“You don’t need to apologize, darling. None of it was your fault.” She moves to your other side and wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “Before you came to find Matt and I . . . We spoke, and we’re okay. We’ll always love one another, but not in the way that we deserve. But you two . . . You two can. You already have. I’ve seen it. And you’re a shit liar, my darling. I always thought . . . But when you put my hand in Matt’s at the altar, I knew for certain.” She gently tucks some of your loose hair behind your ear. “You just need to have the courage to take the next step.” She gently tilts your face to look at hers. “I’m okay.”

You look between them—Elektra’s eyes filled with resolve and calm, Matt’s a storm of a million emotions, and you can feel how your heart tears in half. Feeling like the room is closing in on you and the air is being pulled from your lungs, you grab your things and rush past them, needing the cool sting of crisp autumn air to help you feel something else then the hot guilt coursing through your veins.

Maybe Matt won’t come in today. The man did take the week off for his honeymoon, after all. But, he is his own boss and can change that as he pleases. Still, the weekend was eventful as hell. Maybe he needed a day. Maybe if you just keep your head down long enough, you won’t have to catch the sympathetic and pitiful glances of Foggy and Karen. No client appointments are scheduled today, either, so—.

“Hey,” you hear a gently voice say at your desk. Looking up, you see Matt with two cups of coffee in his hands. “Got your usual.”

“Thanks,” you say softly, taking it from him, your heart skipping a beat as your fingers brush against one another. You just want things to go back to normal, as if the weekend didn’t happen. This is a sign that Matt wants that too—a drip of normalcy. But why does he have to sound so tender like that?

“Do you have some time?”

“Matt, I—.”

“Please?”

Damn. He knows you can’t say no when he sounds like that.

“Y-Yeah,” you say softly. “How about we go for a walk?”

He nods, letting you get up and put on your jacket. When you get to his side, you take his elbow out of habit, freezing after a few steps when guilt hits you like a freight train to your chest.

“(Y/N)—,” he tries softly.

“I can’t do this,” you tell him quietly, tears stinging at your lashes and nose. “I’m sorry, Matt, I just can’t do this.”

“Why?”

“Because, Matt! Because I look at you, and I know how I feel! I feel guilt that I am what came between you finally being happy and getting something you’ve told me time and time again you never thought you’d have. I look at you, and still love you as much as the day that I met you and I can’t stop it. But I know that I can’t be what you need because I will never be able to understand you in the way that you deserve—the way Elektra can. I’m just me, Matt. I’m just me.”

You’re not prepared for what he says next. “And what makes you think I don’t love you just the way that you are? For everything that you are? That I’m glad you can’t understand me in those dark ways because you’re the sunshine that makes the darkness easier to deal with? That I know that the only person that I could ever really be with and be happy with is you? That I don’t love you with my entire heart?”

The way that you feel tears fall onto the fabric of your shirt let you know just how hard and fast you’re crying. The way that Matt puts his coffee next to yours so he can cup your face and wipe your tears away only adds to the gravity of his words.

“Please, angel,” he continues gently. “Please let me help you realize just how much you mean to me. Just how deeply I love you. Because I will spend the rest of my life doing just that, no matter what you say.”

You don’t know what else to do except pull him in for a kiss. It’s not pretty or graceful. It’s wet and snotty and shaky—everything that a first kiss shouldn’t be. But the way that one of Matt’s hands stays on your face as the other moves around the back of your head so his fingers weave into your hair tells you that it’s everything he could ever want. When he finally pulls away, you do what you can to wipe off your tears that fell onto his cheeks.

“I love you,” you whisper as your thumbs skate across his skin.

“I love you, too, angel,” he breathes, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you so much.”

“C-Can, uh,” you sniffle. “What next?”

“We go for that walk? Talk about anything and everything. We can figure this out. I want to figure this out.”

You nod as Matt wipes the last of your tears away. “Sounds good.”

He kisses you softly once more and loops his arm in yours as we walk out of the office. The way he holds onto you tells you that he never intends on letting go.

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bellaxgiornata · 11 months

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Falling For the Devil [Part seventy: "The Thoughts About the Future"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a discussion with his mother, Matt invites you over for dinner at his place.

Or You both finally discuss the topic of moving in.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 3.2k

a/n: This is a fluffy, sweet installment where you get a Matt POV in the beginning! You can find the entire list of installments for this series on tumblr here. I've almost transferred them all over from AO3 now!!

Matt let his mother lead the pair of them to a bench in front of the church, his cane tapping rhythmically along the pavement before himself. Both of them sat down beside each other, Matt drawing his cane between his legs and nervously twisting it as he did.

It was an early Sunday morning at the end of March, the air still chilly around them where they sat quietly. The sidewalks were fairly empty though, which gave the pair of them a bit of privacy that Matt was grateful to have for this conversation.

"So I know this isn't you coming for just another chat," Maggie eventually cut through the silence. "You're far too tense for that. What happened, Matthew?"

He let out a sigh, leaning further back into the bench. "Nothing happened," he told her, his hands still fidgeting with his cane.

He could feel his mother's eyes on him, curiously studying him closely. That only caused him to move a hand, toying with the hem of his winter coat under the heavy weight of her scrutiny. He was nervous to open up to her like this; he certainly didn’t have conversations like this with her.

"It's about her, isn't it?" Maggie asked after a moment. She said your name tentatively, her eyes still on Matt.

He smiled softly, nodding his head. "Yeah, it is," he admitted.

He could hear the way Maggie nodded beside him, turning along the bench to face him more fully. Her heart had sped up just a bit in her chest and he figured it was in anticipation at whatever he was going to say.

"Well I don't have all day, Matthew," she urged. "Please tell me you haven't ruined things with her now that you finally got her back."

He shook his head, his focus falling onto his feet. "No, I haven't," he answered her awkwardly. "But that's…sort of why I'm here. I–I could use some advice," he admitted. "So that I don't ruin things."

Maggie hummed out a curious noise, settling more comfortably onto the bench beside him. Matt heard the way her mouth pulled into a smile, clearly pleased at the fact that he had come to her for help.

"Well, what's going on that you would seek my advice for?" she asked.

Matt swallowed hard, his sightless gaze still focused along his feet. He stuffed his left hand into his coat pocket, the fingers of his right hand tapping anxiously along his cane. He wasn’t entirely sure where to begin, but he figured he might as well just get straight to the point.

"Her lease is up at the end of next month," he began slowly, aware of the eyebrow that rose onto Maggie's forehead. "And before…well, everything that had gone on between us that had led to us breaking up, she was supposed to be moving in with me next month. But we haven't talked about it yet. Though I want to talk about it with her–I am. Tonight. Over dinner. But I–" he paused, his eyes briefly closing, "–I want her to move in. I really, really want her to, but it feels like it's so soon after us getting back together. It–it seems like it may not be the best time. And I don't want her to move in just because her lease is up and she feels pressured, nor do I want to feel like that’s why she’s moving in. And I worry that such a big change might have a negative impact on the relationship after what just happened. I just–just don’t want to do the wrong thing here, or give her the wrong idea. I don’t want to mess this up."

"Maybe you should just speak plainly like this with her, Matthew," Maggie suggested. “She might be on the same page as you. Or she might be entirely ready to move in still. She seems like a level-headed woman and she quite obviously loves you very much. Just talk to her.”

Head turning towards his mother, his brows rose up onto his forehead. “That’s it? Just talk to her?” he asked in disbelief.

Maggie shrugged easily beside him. “Yes,” she answered. “Communication is important in a relationship. It seems like you both struggle with that, but it appears you’re also both working on it. From the things you’ve told me at least. So yes, Matthew,” she said, “just talk to her about it. Tell her your fears and how you feel, then listen to her. I’m sure you both can figure it out together. And I’m sure it’s been on her mind if her lease is up in a few weeks.”

A sigh fell out of Matt as his left hand slid out of his jacket pocket, his fingers combing nervously through his hair. How did she make it sound like such a simple thing when he’d all last week felt like talking to you was going to be so difficult?

“You love her,” Maggie pointed out, breaking the silence that had once again fallen. “Quite a bit.”

“Yes,” he admitted. “I do. And I’m terrified of ruining things. Normally when I’ve lost the people I care about,” he continued, his throat feeling like it was closing up at the emotions coursing through him, “I don’t get a second chance to fix things. To make it right. But she gave me that.”

“Then talk to her,” Maggie urged. “Speak from that beautiful heart that you have and I have faith that everything will work out as it should.”

Matt’s lips twitched upwards at the corner, slowly nodding his head as he focused back down towards his feet. His left hand ran across his mouth as he felt suddenly compelled to admit something else to his mother, something he’d yet to say aloud.

“I’ve been–been thinking about the future a lot more,” he said softly, his hand lowering to his lap. “It’s not something I usually had been doing ever since becoming Daredevil. I didn’t quite envision a future, there wasn’t anything I’d ever really wanted for myself,” he confessed, aware of his mother’s intense focus on him. “Not until her, that is. And now I can’t stop thinking about the future. All these things I’ve never thought about–I want them. With her.”

“Marriage?” Maggie asked, the smile obvious in her tone.

He nodded in response, a broad smile slowly making its way across his face. “Yes,” he told her. “I’ve heard Foggy and Karen tease me about it countless times at the office now. And I know you’ve occasionally made your comments when we’ve spoken but…” he trailed off, his face still alight with the love he had for you written across it. “Now I know that’s what I want. And I know right now is way too soon for that but–” he blew out a sharp breath, his stomach twisting into nervous knots just at the thought of someday asking you that question, “–she’s–she’s it for me. I want her. Forever.”

“Ahh, my son,” Maggie whispered, Matt catching the tremor in her voice before he felt her drawing him into a hug, “I’m so happy you finally found her then.”

Matt’s own arms wrapped around his mother, the two embracing for a long while on that bench in what was one of their rare moments of affection. He could tell Maggie was crying a bit as he held her, but he could also tell the tears weren’t from sadness.

“You both will be just fine,” Maggie whispered into his shoulder.

And it was her reassurance that gave Matt the courage he needed to speak with you tonight about the topic of living together.

_______

“Okay, I have to ask, because somehow Katy and I got into a huge discussion about this at the office today,” you told Matt, pouring the red wine into the glasses on the kitchen counter, “and we both sort of agreed that you would be the one who could actually give us an answer.”

Matt paused from his place near the stove where he was plating the carbonara, his focus landing on you. “Is this about my butt?” he asked hesitantly.

“What? No,” you said with a laugh, shaking your head. “No, it’s not. I swear.”

He shot you a grin before he turned back to the plates before him and continued what he was doing. “Okay, so what’s the question?” he asked curiously.

“What spice–or seasoning–has the most flavor?” you questioned him. Setting the bottle of wine down, you turned to face him as your back rested against the countertop, one hand toying with that gold pendant necklace he’d gotten you for Christmas. “Like, per granule or…however I suppose you would quantify it. Because she claims salt is, but I say there’s a lot of other spices that are quite strong that I think are stronger than salt. Like saffron. Or…cinnamon.”

Matt chuckled lightly as he finished what he was doing before he removed the towel from his shoulder, turning to face you as he wiped his hands along it. “That is not what I thought you were going to ask at all,” he said.

Your head tilted to the side as you shot him a smile. “I told you it wasn’t about your butt,” you teased. “We do talk about things besides that, you know.”

“Like quantifying spices by the granule?” he teased back.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Okay, well can you help me out here? Who’s right?” you asked him.

Matt shrugged. “Neither of you. Because you’re right in the sense that there are alot of strong seasonings out there, but honestly? I couldn’t tell you that there is just a single one that is the strongest. But–” he said, raising a finger and pointing it towards you, “–I will say saffron is quite strong.”

“Hmm,” you hummed out, “fair point, I suppose.”

“Anymore questions before dinner?” he asked, a dark brow quirking playfully up onto his forehead.

Biting your lip, you eyed Matt before you as he stood in the middle of the kitchen dressed in his black tee-shirt and a pair of those nice jeans he sometimes wore. The shirt was pulling taut at his chest from his broad muscles and as your eyes traveled downwards, you caught sight of how perfectly his jeans fit his thighs. Matt’s head slowly canted to the side as you surveyed him.

“Maybe one…” you said softly, voice trailing off as heat rose to your cheeks.

Somehow that dark brow of his rose even higher. “Which is?”

Swallowing hard, you asked, “Is there anything planned for after dinner?”

You watched the gradual pull of Matt’s mouth as a smug smirk appeared on his face. He set the towel down on the counter beside him, his focus never leaving you as he made his way over. He stopped just before you, his hands landing on your hips and gently drawing you into him. Your breath came in shallower when he leaned in closer to you, his mouth just beside your ear.

“Why don’t we see how you’re feeling after dinner first, hmm?” he whispered.

Hands reaching up, they landed along Matt’s firm chest as you tried to control your heart rate. “Maybe dinner can wait?” you suggested.

Matt chuckled lightly beside your ear and a moment later you felt him kiss your temple. And then he was pulling away, making his way towards the two plates he’d just assembled.

“Sweetheart, let’s just focus on dinner first,” he said. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about anyway.”

“Oh,” you muttered, heart rate suddenly spiking for a different reason. “Okay, yeah, sure.”

Turning, you grabbed both of the wine glasses in your hands, trying to take quiet, calming breaths. You were nervous now, not entirely sure what it was Matt could want to talk to you about. Had you done something wrong? Pushed him with sex? Was he wanting to take things slower? Or…worse? As you followed Matt out of the kitchen towards his table, you did your best to keep your hands from shaking. It didn’t help that you knew Matt was aware of your abrupt nervousness.

You set down a glass of wine beside Matt’s plate before pulling the chair out beside his and sitting down. Drawing your own glass to your lips, you quickly took a drink and tried to calm your nerves. Your eyes remained focused on the plate he’d set before you, too nervous to look at him beside you.

“I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he pointed out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“No, no,” you said quickly, your voice pitched higher than usual.

“Sweetheart,” Matt said gently, “I can hear your body right now.”

Eyes still on the plate, you set the glass of wine onto the table as you slowly nodded. “Okay, yeah, I guess I am feeling a little anxious,” you admitted. “It’s uh, usually not a good thing when someone in a relationship says they want to talk.”

Matt’s hand slid across the table, coming to rest lightly along your wrist. Exhaling a shaky breath, you glanced up at him beside you. He was shooting you a sweet smile, your eyes immediately dropping down to the dimple in his cheek.

“I’m not intending this to be a bad thing,” Matt assured you. “But we do need to talk about your lease expiring, don’t we?”

You blinked hard a few times as you registered what he’d said. He was right, your lease was up in just over a month. You’d wondered if Matt would ever bring it up because you’d already assumed you weren’t moving in just yet after what had happened.

“I suppose so, yes,” you answered slowly.

He nodded, his hand releasing your wrist as he turned a bit more towards you at the table. “I think maybe we should…wait a bit before you move in, if that–that’s still what you want to do after, well, everything,” he began timidly. “I just worry that you might feel rushed or pressured to take such a big step after what I did and I don’t–” his tongue darted out between his lips nervously, “–don’t want you to feel either of those things. Because I love you, sweetie. And I want you to know that’s what you want. I want it to feel right for you . But believe me, sweetheart,” he pressed, “I want you to. That’s never changed, I promise you. I still want you here with me, I still want you to use that key I gave you, but I just want to do this right. I want you to be comfortable with the decision.”

You sat there with your lips parted, entirely speechless. Staring at Matt, you found yourself overcome with the urge to lean over and kiss him–and maybe do more than that. Beside you, Matt sent you a nervous smile, his eyebrows rising up onto his forehead in your silence.

“Sweetheart? Some thoughts here?” he asked anxiously.

You shook your head quickly, laughing a little nervously. “Sorry,” you muttered, still trying to recover. “The uh, the first reaction I had to that was not an appropriate response.”

His brows quickly drew together, his nose lightly scrunching at your words. “And what would that have been?” he asked.

“It uh,” you began, eyes darting down to the plate of untouched pasta before you as you cleared your throat, “involved me wanting to jump you for how considerate you are.”

“Jump me?” he asked, amusement in his tone.

Cheeks further flushing, you shrugged. “Yeah, that was just…very sweet. But I honestly appreciate all of that because, well, I’ll admit I’m a bit hesitant to move in so quickly after everything. I worry you might change your mind or decide to push me away again and that…scares me,” you admitted softly.

“That’s understandable,” Matt replied. “And I want to prove to you that I’m not going anywhere. That you can trust me.”

“I already had spoken to my landlord,” you told him. “I’m lucky she likes me because we’d agreed on a month-by-month rent for a couple of months while I figured out what was going on with, well, us.”

Matt’s mouth quirked up at the corners as he sent you a warm smile. “And here I was thinking I needed to pull out the ‘I’m a really good lawyer and I can get you out of your lease’ card,” he joked.

“Ahh, I was one step ahead of you, Murdock,” you teased, your attention returning to him beside you.

“That you were,” he replied with a grin.

“So is that why you made dinner tonight?” you asked him curiously. “Because you were wanting to talk to me about this?”

He nodded, though you caught a little glint of something in his eyes that had you curiously studying him.

“Yes,” he admitted. “But also, I just really wanted an excuse to have you over and make you dinner. I know you’ve been having a stressful time with work lately.”

At the mention of work you slumped in your seat, your heart dropping to your stomach. “Yeah, I have. The fluff pieces for the past few months have been killing me. It’s like if I don’t actively chase stories, Ellison will just keep sending charity events my way to cover,” you vented, running a hand across your forehead. “I feel like my sleep is suffering for it lately.”

“So why don’t you relax and just enjoy dinner, sweetheart?” he suggested. “Don’t worry about work. And we can revisit the topic of you moving in in a few weeks. Let’s just enjoy our evening.”

A slow smile made its way across your lips before you nodded at Matt. “Okay. You’re right. Thanks for making dinner tonight, Matt,” you told him. “I appreciate it.”

He returned the smile, the warmth of it reaching his eyes. “Of course, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re always taking care of me and I like to try to return the favor.”

You playfully rolled your eyes as you picked up your fork. “You and always trying to reciprocate,” you muttered.

“Speaking of,” Matt said, his tone low and sultry beside you, “I might actually be feeling up for dessert after this. In the bedroom. To uh, make up for that lunch the other day.”

Heat flamed across your cheeks as you twirled some pasta onto your fork. “I told you that wasn’t a quid pro quo thing, Matt,” you said softly.

You heard him shifting in his seat and you turned towards him. He was grinning mischievously at you and shooting you a look that had your heart skipping in your chest.

“And I told you it was a ‘my girlfriend is incredibly sexy’ thing,” he whispered back, that grin still on his mouth. “And I quite enjoy showing my incredibly sexy girlfriend how much I love her.”

Your thighs pressed together under the table as you squirmed in your seat. Matt’s deep, rumbling chuckle filled the air.

“So, you think you’re up for dessert after dinner?” he teased.

Raising your fork to your mouth, you muttered, “You know I can’t resist dessert with you, Matt.”

A pleased hum came from beside you as you saw Matt finally pick up his own fork. You tried to focus on eating despite now being all too aware of what the two of you would shortly be up to.

“That’s my girl,” Matt murmured before focusing on his dinner.

And like hell if those three words weren’t ringing through your mind as you ate.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x fem reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock series #matt murdock fic #daredevil x female reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #fftd

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petertingle-yipyip · 1 year

Text

MAD AT GOD - MATT MURDOCK

Season Three - Aimed To Kill

tags: @mayasaurus--rex @americaarse @dusstory @johnmurphys-sass @ironprincessstranger @astrobees @woowwwee // four // six // masterlist

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Word Count: 10,424

Summary: Pages turn and bridges burn as Ex realizes the extent that she’s behind. When sentiment thrives amongst the chaos between her and her first love, question becomes whether they can fix their hearts with the lips that have left scars on each other.

Ray sent you home after your conversation. A team remained for cleanup and analysis, and you offered to help, but you were told to go home. He said for you to take care of yourself, write down whatever important things you didn’t want to forget, and he’d see you in the office for a debrief tomorrow. You tried to wait for Karen or Foggy, but Ray said if you wouldn’t leave on your own, he would walk to your car himself.

You thought about going home, about sleeping off the whole ordeal. But your mindless driving took you to the church. Once you pulled up, your feet guided you through the rod-iron gate out front without hesitation and through the heavy wood doors with your chest growingly inexplicably tighter with each step.

Your feet seemed to know where to go more than your head because before you knew it, you were just around the corner from the gate. You took a deep breath and built the pressure in your chest to a pinnacle. You let it out as a controlled exhale and felt the thrumming of your pulse slow to its usual pace.

“You’re missing the point! He didn’t just find someone to wear my suit.” Matt argued so you stayed around the corner to listen in, hiding your presence behind a bubble of indifference. “He’s as fast and skilled as I’ve ever seen, and I couldn’t take him. He found someone to kill me.”

“Matthew.” Sister Maggie tried.

“I was stupid enough to think that I had Fisk cornered. He knew I’d find the witness and I just brought the sheep to the slaughter.”

You shook your head slightly, feeling that slap of guilt.

“Jasper Evans is dead. He’s dead and he leaves a son behind and that’s on me! … I was so sure that I was finally out in front of this bastard. God, and I was stupid enough to put Y/N in the middle of it.”

You stepped inside quietly and stood beside Maggie. Her head snapped towards your sudden presence, but she offered a small, thankful smile. You gently took the cloth from her hand and moved towards Matt. He jerked away from your touch but you grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. He huffed in annoyance and you quietly rolled your eyes.

“Fisk knew I thought that I had him. He was waiting for me.” Matt’s rant continued, though his anger was now wavering between that heat - a heat that so familiarly blasted from him - and suffocating guilt. “Of course he was waiting for me.”

You worked calmly and quietly as you began undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“Foggy and Karen could’ve been killed.” Matt tried.

Your movements paused at the last button when you realized he was right. But your head cocked in thought when you also realized that they weren’t killed. He hardly touched them… Why kill everyone else but them? “And there would’ve been nothing I could’ve done to stop it. Nothing.”

“You’re losing blood. Let me stitch you up!” Maggie insisted and Matt’s brows furrowed slightly, clearly having assumed the person touching him was the familiar nun.

“I listened to you. I listened to you and they almost died.” Matt continued, though one bloodied hand reached forward and found your face.

You couldn’t hide the smile as his thumb traced your features. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh, his mouth threatening to reveal a smile. That prior tightness in your chest dissipated almost instantly when you saw that you still meant something special to him. While their conversation continued, you were thinking of an old memory from college.

————————————

“Does that even work?” You giggled and dropped on the bed beside Matt. He turned his head in your direction with a content smile. “They do it on TV but is it actually a thing?”

“It helps, yeah.” He nodded. “You don’t have to though.”

“Do you want to?”

He gave a small shrug. “Foggy’s pretty much told me what you look like. The guy couldn’t stop talking about you for a week after we first met. It was always ‘how did we not know she was in our classes?’ and ‘how is a girl like that trynna be a lawyer?’.”

“Huh.” You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I’m gonna kick Franklin’s ass.” You laughed before sitting up fully and patting Matt’s chest. “C’mon, get up.”

“Why?” He asked, though he did as he was told.

“So we can do this.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

You could tell he was trying to keep down his smile as his hand hovered near your cheek. You felt a twisting in your stomach and realized for the first time in a long time, you had butterflies. Your skin was buzzing with excitement as you waited for Matt’s gentle touch. He giggled quietly and pulled his hands away.

“What’s wrong?” You laughed.

“Nothing.” He insisted with a grin. “Nothing, I swear.”

Your brows raised expectantly and he licked his lips with a smile as he raised his hands again. You laughed to yourself and grabbed his wrists to guide his hands. You slid his fingers into your hair at your temples and his thumbs ran along your forehead, following the path of your hairline.

You watched his expression shift, though there was always a smile on his face. His brows raised and furrowed as his thumbs continued to travel your face, skimming over your eyebrows as his fingers traced the curve of your ears. You giggled slightly when he got your eyes and the touch against your lashes made your eyes close.

“Can you smile?” He asked softly when both palms slid to your cheeks.

Your eyes opened and you saw the soft expression he wore. That look alone was enough to bring out an honest smile, thinking about how sweet and honest Matt was. He gave you a chance to be soft in a way you never had before. You had always thought yourself synonymous with bloody knuckles and gun powder. You wanted to be something to fear, to make people afraid to hurt you. But when Matt was around, all your jagged edges seemed to be rounded out.

His thumbs traced your cheeks to the bridge of your nose. You bit down the smile as his pointer fingers made their way to your lips, gingerly tracing the shape. One hand fell away while the other gave your cheeks a gentle squeeze, making you laugh.

“What was that for?” You asked and he laughed with you as he pulled both hands back to his lap.

“Nothing.” He answered innocently. “You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Matt.. So are you.”

“Yeah?” His brows raised as a slight pink tinted his cheeks.

“Yeah…” You smiled softly. “Y’know, I’m really glad we met.”

“Me too.”

————————————

Maggie tapped your shoulder and you pulled back into the present moment. You turned to see her handing you a bowl with the supplies to stitch him up. She offered a quick nod before disappearing and you blinked the pink tint from your vision.

“I don’t know if I can beat the man he sent to kill me, Y/N/N.” Matt confessed softly as you moved across the room to wash your hands.

“Have you forgotten everything I taught you?” You asked simply.

“I’ve thought about everything between us a lot lately.” He said softly, all anger fading to the back for a moment as he appeared at your side. “Good and bad.”

“And there’s been a lot of both.”

“Mostly my fault.”

You turned to him with a clean wet cloth in hand. You gently grabbed his jaw and turned his head down towards you. He snorted a quiet chuckle while you gently cleared the blood from his nose and mouth.

“Well I’m not exactly a cake walk to have around… Just ask Marc. Or Billy. Or Frank. Or either of my cousins.. Hell, you could ask Karen.” You laughed slightly.

“I’m serious, Y/N/N.” He offered a small, lopsided smile.

“Y’know, I thought you might've turned off your heart, cause that just wasn’t you last time I saw you, when we were at Jasper’s.. But this guilt makes more sense.”

“You don’t seem very fazed that our friends could’ve died.” He commented as your hands returned to their place in his chest and began stitching him up.

“Yeah...” Your brows furrowed as you thought back to your realization from just moments ago. “They could’ve. But they didn’t.”

“He knew from the start, since I went to the prison. He knew I’d find Jasper.”

“Shut up for a second.” You shook your head, pausing your hands to let your brain work through your thoughts. You slowly began tapping your finger against his chest and he looked down at you with raised brows. “So why didn’t he kill them?”

“What?”

“The imposter could've killed them both. You were down and I had barely gotten to my feet, which was after he had already pulled a trigger on Jasper.” You stopped and turned your head up to face Matt again. “He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to give chances. So why not kill them too? Why not kill all of us?”

“Cause that wasn’t the plan.” Matt finished.

“No… He wasn’t sent to clear the place. The journalists and whatever damage he did from that was his own idea, probably only killing people that fought back. He was sent to send a message. To me and you, to the public, and every crime syndicate in New York. If he can wreck your public image, it shows that the people can’t trust you anymore. And by making it look like you’ve snapped and you work for him now, criminal groups across the city will see him as untouchable.”

“FBI protects him inside. Daredevil protects him outside. Makes it look like not even Exodus can’t touch him.”

“Untouchable. Like she’s fighting a losing battle…” Your fingers continued the steady movements to stitch him up. “We’ve gotta find this guy sooner rather than later.”

“I couldn’t stop him, but you could.” His brows furrowed but you ignored the look he gave you and focused on finishing the stitches. “How’d you know how to beat him?”

“His first instinct was to throw the club, which told me pretty much everything I needed to know.” You explained, though it was partially a lie. “He was strong, sure. But it was easy to tell his advantage was with distance and projectiles. When you two were going at it, he had trouble blocking everything which showed a lack in hand to hand experience. I saw a fighter that relied on brute strength or distance. The way he carried himself reminded me of the military, and in my experience, military men can’t defend against me very well. He couldn’t get me until I let up or got distracted.”

“Your experience.” He chuckled. “How many military men do you have experience with?”

“I don’t owe you that answer.” You said simply.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that’s not a very discreet way to ask who I’ve been sleeping with.”

“What?” He feigned innocence.

“I know you were at the apartment. What gave it away?”

“I could smell the colognes in the bedroom.” He admitted.

You let the silence settle for a moment until he began fiddling with his fingers.

“Four.” You finally answered and his brows raised in mild shock. “Two of them would’ve been recent enough that you could tell but they were just to pass the time. Well that’s kind of a lie. I was starting to like one of them until he turned around and shot me. The other two of them actually mattered, but one of them’s like my family. They’ve never been in the bedroom like that.”

“Hmm… Couch?” He tried to joke.

You smacked his arm.

“Neither of them have been in the apartment.” You specified.

“Your math is wrong, by the way. That was five.”

“No, it’s four.. There’s some overlap.”

“Would I uh… Would I know any of them?”

“Names, yes. Actual people, some. And to answer that other burning question that’s stamped on your forehead, no. I never slept with Frank.”

“I didn’t-“

“You assumed the only military guy we had in common… You were dead. What else was I supposed to do?” You gave a small shrug and dropped the supplies to the sink.

“I know.”

“Y’know, I really thought we could make it..”

“We still can.” He said softly, as if the words would break him. As if admitting those words in your presence was the last crumble of his resolve to stay away in the name of your protection.

And maybe they did. All you knew for sure was that whatever hard casing had shattered in your chest earlier that night, it would never fully solidify again. You were each other’s greatest weakness. The clearest vulnerability, but your greatest strength came from each other. Your best feats came when you two were together. Fisk knew that, and that’s why he wanted to separate you two.

Matt waited for you to turn back towards him and when you did, he took your hand and guided you to the small bed tucked in the corner.

“The suit he was wearing...” You remembered, hoping to redirect the conversation to the fight.

“Yeah, it was perfect.” Matt agreed.

“I think we’ll need to see Melvin.” You sighed and turned to him.

His brows furrowed as his head tilted, listening in on something. Your head cocked as you watched and waited for him to talk about it.

“Are your ribs bothering you again?” He asked suddenly. “It sounds like the bones are rubbing together.”

“Probably. He slammed me a few times and I took a tumble down the stairs earlier but it doesn’t hurt.” You sat up taller to prod the area but Matt’s hand was already pressing against the bones while the other was against your back for stability. You winced sharply and grabbed his wrist. “Yeah, they’re busted. I’ll deal with it later.”

“I can’t really feel it. Can I…” He gestured to your shirt.

You shook your head softly but stripped off your jacket and button-up. You gave Matt a side eye as you undid the velcro straps on your vest but he held a look of innocent concern. You pulled the vest over your head with a wince, leaving you in the black compression top that was underneath.

“Don’t think you're gonna get me out my clothes that easy anymore, Murdock.” You teased and he smiled as you guided his hands back.

“Guess I still got it.” He answered lowly as he pressed against your rib cage. You let a sound between a whine and a groan, which made Matt quickly turn to face you. “Never heard you make that sound before.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes in amusement.

“What about your hip? Where the knife went in?” His fingers slid down and pressed the joint of your hip.

“It’s fine, should be just a scar by now.” You looked down at his hand and saw the dark purple shapes on the back of your forearms from where you blocked the baton earlier that night. You hummed in acknowledgment and lifted your arms to better see the bruises.

Matt was quick to reach up and run his fingers along your skin, feeling the slight swelling of the discolored area. He sighed slightly and leaned forward, sliding his hands to have a better grip on your hips. He offered a quiet, pleading expression and gave your body a slight pull. You hesitantly scooted closer, lifting a leg to rest on his lap.

“My last fight was a lot worse. Still got out better than you did.” You said softly, brushing your fingers across his forehead to move his hair back. “You feeling okay?”

“Careful, Y/N.” His eyes closed and a small smile crossed his lips. “I might start to think you still love me.”

“I wouldn’t be down here if I didn’t.” You confessed quietly. “I had to make sure we didn’t lose you again.”

He shifted back on the bed slightly and pulled your hips again, this time pulling you over his lap. He draped your arms over his shoulders before his hands ran up and down the sides of your thighs. You leaned your forehead to rest on his and he tilted his head back so his lips brushed yours.

“You know there are some things we need to talk about.” You said quietly.

“I know..”

“And I can’t stay down here forever.”

“Yeah, just… Just let me hold you for a little longer.”

You nodded slightly and his arms snaked around your waist, allowing you to wrap yours around his shoulders. You leaned forward to drop your head against his shoulder and his chin rested on top of your head. He took a deep breath and his arm held you a little closer. In turn, you felt a rattling in your chest. The sensation was true for what you and Matt felt about your current relationship. Uncertain, shaky at best with a cracked foundation. But there was a familiar tug as well, like a string tied from his heart to yours.

“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me anymore.” He mumbled against your shoulder before he pulled back. “I can’t keep you with me.”

“I can protect myself.” You answered with a small smile. “And I can feel that you want me here, Matty. You can say whatever you want but you can’t hide that longing in your chest.”

He hesitated to go any further, though his hands held you a bit tighter. You let your own hands run up the back of his neck and your fingers pushed into his hair. He let out a chuckle in relief and pressed his lips fully against yours.

Your lips moved together as if no time had passed. You let out a soft moan when he gently pulled you closer and you let all your guards crumble away.

Suddenly, Matt could feel her pulse against his skin with the small noise she made. He could hear more than just the bones rubbing together in her chest. He heard the way her heart was pounding and her breath was growing shallow. He slid his hands up to the exposed skin of her sides and he loved how he heard her heart pick up and the gasp that fell from her lips. He continued to push his hands under her shirt until his fingers found the hem of her bra.

His head was screaming for him to let her go, to force her to leave and keep her safe. He was yelling at himself to say something hurtful, to break her heart and send her off hating him. He knew she’d be safer that way, as far away from as she could get. But Matt recognized that she wouldn’t go for that. She’d never leave his side if she had a choice, and she wouldn’t let Matt take that choice from her.

She pulled her lips away just enough to offer a small, silent nod. She helped him remove her shirt and to stifle the groan. Once the fabric was gone, Matt gently switched positions so she could lay on her back. He carefully climbed on top of her and felt her hands trail down his chest. His eyes closed as her fingertips ghosted over the various scars across his abdomen, as if she wanted to see if they were still there. Maybe that was how she could convince herself it was real, that he was real. He felt her hands falter on one that she wouldn’t know, one that came from Midland Circle. But he knew she wasn’t feeling it in a bad way. She was feeling it to remember it, to add it to the memory she kept of his body.

He had added a few new scars of hers to his memory as well. The tattoos at the back of her neck. Deep lines around her wrist that were interrupted by a shallow circle on either side, a short but raised mark near her belly button. The newest one at her hip that he had yet to feel. He felt the slight divot along her jaw earlier that night. Whatever she had gone through in his absence, she’d never be able to forget it. He still wondered what happened, but in those moments where he had her hands and lips on him, he couldn't bring himself to stop and ask. He decided it would be a story for another time.

The moment only broke when Y/N gently pushed his chest away.

“Maybe this isn’t a great idea..” You said gently.

“Yeah..” He answered simply, as if that was the reaction he expected from you. “You’re probably right.”

“I still wanna stay.” You offered as he moved to lay beside you.

“I thought you couldn’t.”

“Tell me to go and I will.”

“And if I want you to stay”?

“Tell me and I will.”

You woke later that night - or maybe it was early morning - when your phone was ringing on the floor. You freed yourself from Matt’s arms and slid from the small bed to the floor. You found your phone in your jacket and leaned your back against the bed while you answered.

“Yeah?” You mumbled, eyes still closed and sleep dripping from your voice.

“Hey.” Dex’s voice answered and it felt like you were slapped awake. Every muscle in your body tensed as you expected an accusation of your alter ego. “Just callin’ to see if you’re home. I wanted to come by.”

“Isn’t it kinda late for that?”

“I was just hoping we could talk.. I heard about what happened at the Bulletin.”

“They’re talking about it already?” Your brows furrowed.

“No, not really.” He said carefully and it was clear he was fabricating his lie as he went. “Ray told me you got a little banged up and I should check on you.”

You knew you had to redirect the conversation quickly or else he might realize that he didn’t see you there, if he hadn’t realized already.

“You don’t have to. I’ve gotten worse than a few bumps and bruises. But hey, while I got you, I wanted to ask if there was any word on your leave? I didn’t get a chance to see if Ray knew anything.”

“Uh… No. No, I haven’t heard anything. No.”

“That’s too bad.” You feigned disappointment. “Tonight probably would’ve been different if you were with me.”

“Yeah…” He paused on the other line and you knew you still had some hooks in him you could pull. “Well, I guess I’ll let you go. Sorry to wake you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Hopefully I get you back with me soon, yeah?”

“Yeah… Yeah, soon. Back with.. with you.”

When you walked into work that morning, you were immediately blasted with familiar feelings from Karen. You followed that calling and ended up in the conference room with Foggy and Karen on one side and Ray on the other. Karen let out a tense sigh and jumped to meet you in a tight embrace, so tight you had to swallow the groan when she squeezed your ribs. Foggy was next, a short embrace followed by a tap on your arm.

“Y/L/N. Glad you’re here. How do you feel?” Ray asked when you stood beside him.

“Little banged up.” You gestured to the still red cut on your forehead. “But I’m not sitting this out. I get you had to pull me from the Murdock investigation but you’re letting me stay on this thing.”

“Yeah.” He gave a small smile. “Wouldn’t do it without you.”

“Great.” You nodded and took a seat beside Ray. “Fill me in.”

“We were addressing that, according to her own paper, Ms. Page has met Daredevil at least twice.” He explained and slid a paper across the table, citing the articles Karen had written.

“That psycho’s not Daredevil.” She countered and shoved the paper back.

“I got a pretty good look at him, too. Could’ve fooled me.” Ray countered, not acknowledging that you had told him something similar the night before.

“Do you think every fat guy with a white beard and red suit is Santa Claus?” Foggy countered and you had to smile.

“If he comes down my chimney and leaves presents under the tree.”

“Devil’s in the details there, Ray.” You added carefully. “That guy would’ve acted like Santa. If he did all of that, this guy didn’t act like Daredevil.”

“Based on how many encounters?” Ray turned to you.

“Couple.” You shrugged.

“He doesn’t kill people, ever. It’s not Daredevil.” Karen insisted. “Did you ever look into Felix Manning? Red Lion Bank?”

“They’re on my to-do list.”

“This is bullshit.”

“Look, Karen, he dropped your name.” You added but you weren’t speaking to her an FBI agent. You were speaking to her as her friend, as her vigilante friend, and she knew that. “He had a chance to kill you, but he didn’t. You were the one person left untouched. I know this seems like bullshit but we need to get these pieces to line up somehow.”

“It won’t.” Foggy cut in. “Not until you two start asking the right questions.”

“And what are those, Mr. Nelson?”

“How about this? Where’s Matt Murdock?” Ray interjected, looking at Foggy and then you.

You simply shrugged.

“Yet another fine example of a question that’s besides the friggin’ point!”

“You were supposed to deliver him to us-“ He gestured between the two of you. “-but there are zero Matt Murdocks in my custody.”

“And zero Jasper Evans left alive.” Karen added. “He killed the one person who had dirt on Fisk, but you knew that already. Is that why you don’t wanna go there?”

“Ms. Page.” You warned.

“What? That nut job did Agent Nadeem a huge favor. Now there’s no one left to tell the world what a fool Fisk is making of the FBI.” Karen continued.

“Did you know Daredevil was-“ Ray began.

“Daredevil imposter.” You cut in, earning a look of disbelief from Ray. “I’ll show you later.”

“Regardless.” He turned back to Karen. “Did you know he was gonna attack the Bulletin? Is that why you brought your gun?”

“Oh, come on.” You groaned as Foggy announced “We’re done here.”

Your friends were quick to leave the room, leaving you and Ray.

“What are you doing? I thought you didn’t get a good look at him.” Ray said lowly, almost angrily.

“No but you know who did, other than Karen?” You reached into your pocket and pulled an old thumb drive. “Outside my door this morning. I already checked it and it’s clean. No malware, no viruses, no tracking. Just a comparison of this Daredevil and the real Daredevil.”

After you left Matt the morning before work, you downloaded the footage from your mask. You found a few shots of Dex in the suit and downloaded those frames as pictures. You found a few old shots of Matt in the suit that matched the same framing and downloaded those as well.

“Do I wanna know who gave this to you?” He asked as he carefully took it.

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” You shrugged. “Could be an amateur photographer. I know Jameson at the Bugle is always looking for freelancers. Just give me a chance to explain it all, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You hurried out of the room and found Karen and Foggy not too far across the office.

“Evans wouldn’t have come to Bulletin if I hadn’t threatened his son.” Karen said sadly.

“His son will be alright.” You said honestly as you joined them. “My cousin is gonna get in touch and let him know, give him some money and help him start over. It’s not ideal but he’ll be okay.”

“We need to find Matt and-“ Foggy tried.

“No, I’m gonna head to the hospital.” Karen cut in, her voice weak with regret and guilt.

“Call me if you need anything.” You offered on her way out and she nodded. You sighed softly before facing Foggy again and speaking quietly, pulling him a few steps to the side. “Matt’s okay. I checked on him last night.”

“You know where he is?” His brows furrowed.

“Yeah, I guess I always had a feeling. I took a chance and it worked out.. Anyway, he’s a little worse off than me but he’ll be fine.”

“You guys have anything?”

“Sort of.” Your head tilted back and forth. “I’ve got some ideas and a basic construct, but we’ve gotta go to the guy that made the suit in the first place.”

“Think he’ll talk?”

“Yeah, he’s a good enough guy. Fisk had to have twisted his arm to get him to go along with it.” You nodded. “I’m gonna look into it on my lunch, assuming he doesn’t go rogue and do it without me.”

“I’m glad you two are working together again. What does it mean for you two?.”

“I don’t know yet, but my priority is keeping you three safe. I don’t care what I have to do.”

“Y/N.” He sighed.

“Y/L/N!” Ray called from down the hall. “Back to work. Let’s go.”

You patted Foggy’s arm and headed back into the office, following Ray towards a meeting with the warden. Ray filled you in quickly on the walk that you two were going to figure out how Jasper got out in the first place.

Apparently fake books wasn’t the most obvious solution.

You sat on the edge of the desk while Ray handled most of the conversation.

“How did some just check the wrong box?” You chuckled. “If you can’t give me a legitimate path to investigate, it’s gonna fall on your head. Forging federal documents is a crime and you will be serving time if you don’t give us answers. And something tells me those prisoners would love to spend some time with you.”

He stared at you and Ray and you felt the panic. He knew he was cornered, but he was also a coward. Whatever Fisk held over him, it was worth a jail sentence.

“I want my lawyer.” He said finally.

You two were then sitting in the SAC’s office and running over what had just happened. You were quiet while Ray went over everything. He told her what happened with Karen, what Jasper was supposed to say, what happened with the warden.

“You believe Evans?” She looked to you.

“Why would he risk his life for a lie?” You shrugged. “And if the warden had nothing to hide, why bother with lawyers?”

“Alright. We gotta kick this up the chain. I’m calling the ADIC.”

“And tell him we don’t know all the facts?” Ray questioned quickly.

“There’s a damn good chance Fisk is manipulating us.”

“I warned you guys this would happen.” You muttered and crossed your arms.

“Shut it.” She pointed firmly to you.

“We need two days. Let us get all the facts.” Ray tried and you had to admit, you admired his determination. “When we can prove Fisk had been playing us, we can bury that son of a bitch together.”

“Leave him to fend for himself against all the people he’s burned.” You agreed.

She shooed you two away and said that you had forty eight hours. You and Ray went back to his office and were comparing the images from your thumb drive.

You pointed out the height differences. Dex had at least two inches on Matt. You showed the difference in jaw shape. Dex’s was more square compared to Matt’s rounded chin. The facial hair difference was clear. Dex stayed clean shaven while Matt opted for light scruff. Their builds were different too, slightly broader shoulders and a narrower waist on Matt. With the photos in front of him, Ray couldn’t deny that they were two different men.

Throughout the day, you learned that the FBI had raided a workshop where Melvin Potter was working, a man who had helped make suits and protection for Fisk. But that was the same man that made yours, Matt’s and now Dex’s suits. You heard talk of a second man there, but only Melvin was in custody. You felt terrible, knowing that when you went to Melvin on your own for help he was more than willing. Now, there was nothing you could do for him because Matt went without you.

You skipped going with Ray to talk to Fisk that night. You told him you didn’t want to see or hear anything from him. You didn’t feel like dealing with more lies so you just headed home. Ray asked if you wanted to come to a small promotion party, just so you didn’t have to be alone, but you politely declined.

You were just getting to your building when you got a call from Maggie asking if you knew where Matt had gone. You answered honestly, that you had no idea but you’d find him. You opened yourself to his emotions and found him, still on his way to wherever he was going. You hurried across town, stopping a few houses down from here you thought you tracked him to. You stripped off your jacket and button-up, threw on your long-sleeve top, and grabbed the mask and Bites from your glove box before hurrying to the right house.

“I’m Daredevil.. The real one.” Matt said when you got into the room. You hurried across and pulled him back by his shoulders to get him off Ray.

“Are you insane?” You asked quietly.

“You don’t look like-“ Ray began.

“I buried the red suit.” Matt cut in. “The man who attacked the Bulletin, he resurrected it.”

“You do, however, match the description of a guy who’s been tuning up FBI agents. Does Agent Y/N Y/L/N ring a bell?” Your head snapped to Ray as he continued. “Heard she kicked your ass so bad you ran off. Maybe I should call her.”

You smirked slightly and Matt threw a discreet elbow into your arm.

“It was the last thing I wanted, but you people-“ He pointed a finger in Ray’s face. You reached over and pulled his hand down, bending his finger back slightly to earn a groan. “-didn’t leave me any choice. If you’d just wake the hell up instead of playing into Fisk’s hands. He’s using you, and I think you know it.”

“You went after the guy at the Bulletin.” Ray turned to you. “You didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even look at the other agents in that stairwell. Why?”

“Because I know who my partner is.” You put a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “And I know who my enemies are. He would’ve killed you too, Agent Nadeem.”

“Who do you think the real danger is here?” Matt added. “Me or him?”

The conversation paused for a minute while Ray had to redirect his son back upstairs.

“Let’s say I believe the two that just broke into my house.” Ray said tightly. “What do you got?”

“The man who attacked the Bulletin dressed as Daredevil… He’s in the FBI.” Matt answered and you felt your blood rush down to your feet.

“What?” You asked quietly. “How do you know?” Matt looked over at you. “How do you know?”

“I found the man that made the suit. He told me that he didn’t know his name, but he knew he was in the FBI. So tell me, which of your agents has Fisk been especially interested in?”

You zoned out for the rest of the conversation. When you got a chance, you snuck out the door. You were quick to change and get back in your car. Instead of going home and ignoring it, you drove to the church. You headed downstairs and waited on the small bed until Matt got there.

“You already knew, didn’t you?” Matt challenged as he stepped inside, tossing his mask across the room while he went to wash his hands.

“You were supposed to wait for me.” You countered.

“Who is he?”

“Why would you think I know?” You stood.

“Who is he, Y/N?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.” He turned to face you.

“Am I?” You tilted your head with a slight squint. “Or is it that you can’t tell so you’re trying to trap me?”

“Why are you protecting him?” He shouted and your jaw clenched. The worst part was that you didn’t know how to answer that.

You didn’t know if you were or if it was to protect Matt. If you took down Fisk, Dex would go down too. Start at the top and the bottom crumbles. Matt couldn’t face Dex on his own. He’d already proven that. He needed your help, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“I’m trying to protect you but you won’t listen to me!”

“Listen to you? Listen to you? Y/N, you’ve been lying to me! Why should I listen?”

“Cause you already know you can’t beat him without me.” You said simply, trying to gain some composure. “Whether or not you know his name, he will beat you every time. Next time, he will probably kill you.”

“Why didn’t you stop it?”

“How was I supposed to do that?” You scoffed.

“You know how. It gets you everything you want, doesn’t it?”

“What, this?” You raised your brows and pulled fear to Matt’s surface, watching him cough and choke slightly before clearing it away. “I can’t control everyone.”

“That’s how you knew how to beat him.” He continued and you didn’t bother arguing. “Because you know exactly who he is.”

“I have an idea.” You said carefully.

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. You know.”

You didn’t know why you were protecting Dex, but you couldn’t bring yourself to throw his name out there. Maybe it was your own pride. You wanted to take him down yourself. Maybe it was just some loyalty to him as a partner or some pathetic hope that some sliver of a redeemable man was left.

“I don’t have any proof.” You said, which wasn’t a lie. But you did know how to get it.

“Y’know, I knew you were a good liar, but I didn’t think you’d lie to me.”

“Are you seriously talking to me about lying?” You laughed in disbelief. “You lied for how long about being dead?”

“That’s not the same!”

“No, you’re right. It’s worse!”

“My lie didn’t kill anyone!”

“It almost killed me.” You admitted. His brows furrowed as he faced you, trying to figure out what you meant. “The night after Midland, I thought about drowning myself in the tub. Almost did it, too. And the scar on my wrist that you were so interested in last night? Gunshot, nearly bled out from it. I almost died at the carousel because I didn’t care what happened to me.”

“I didn’t make you do that.” He said quietly.

“You didn't make me… You’re right. You didn’t. But you weren’t here to stop me either. And that was your choice. You always knew where to find me, Matt. But you hid out down here.”

“I’m not the one that can make people feel what she wants. You could’ve stopped them from trying to kill you. You could’ve stopped all of this!”

“You aren’t listening to me! You never listen to me!” You shouted and pushed him by his chest. “I only let my powers go so far, because if I don’t, then nothing‘s real.”

“How far did they go with me?” He asked suddenly, and the question seemed to shock him as much as it did you.

Matt realized it immediately after he said it. That was what he was looking for the night before. When he was thinking of what to say that’d be hurtful enough to break her, to push her away for good. It was the idea of challenging the validity of the relationship they had. He let out a small sigh when he realized that what he said had done more than hurt her. It shattered whatever was left of her heart, whatever had just been putting itself back together.

“What?” You asked softly.

“Was it ever real? My feelings for you.” He didn’t know why he kept going, but he did.

“Did you love me when I wasn’t around?” Your eyes fell to the floor as you backed away, a sharp pain stemming from your chest. “Did you still care about me before I came back?”

“Yeah…”

You swallowed the stinging sensation that was climbing your throat and lifted your eyes to Matt, taking careful steps forward. “Did you ever question it before you knew what I could do?”

He shook his head.

“There’s your answer… The worst part of my powers is not really knowing if I’m messing with someone or if it’s real. But I guess I know what it is with you. And I really wanted everything with us to be real. I was as honest as I knew how to be when it came to you, but you still can’t trust me.”

“Y/N, wait.” Matt realized he couldn’t go through with it. He couldn’t let her leave with that kind of hurt, not when it was his fault.

“No. No, you don’t get to try and pull a punch you’ve already thrown. You can’t backtrack this time..” You shook your head and turned to leave.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N, please.”

“You always say what you mean, Matt. After everything I’ve done, I thought you would’ve trusted me by now. But y’know what, fine. You wanna be alone? Be alone.”

You turned on your heels and were storming towards the stairs to leave when you felt his hand on your wrist. You reached over with your free hand and twisted his arm over as you stepped underneath and behind him. You kicked out his front knee and forced him down, quickly moving one hand to press at the base of his shoulder. You pulled your knee back and as you drove it forward, his other hand came up to block it. You pulled your foot back again but threw it for a kick this time, only to have Matt catch it by your ankle.

He yanked your forward and you went stumbling, releasing his arm so your hands could catch yourself on the nearest marble statue.

“Would you just listen to me?” He tried as he got to his feet.

“Like you’ve been listening to me?” You laughed. “Like you listened when I begged you not to stay under Midland?”

“How many times do I have to apologize for that?” He asked loudly, throwing his hands to the side.

“I don’t want your apology. I want you to admit you were wrong.”

“I did what I thought would be better for you.”

You let out a loud sound of frustration and moved at him. You threw a roundhouse that he leaned away from but your momentum carried you around so you spun and shot a back kick that landed against his chest. As he stumbled, you did a quick shuffle to replace your feet and reset yourself to face him. Left jab that he knocked away. Right hook that he ducked. A small growl sounded from deep in your throat as you walked in a small circle around him. He kept his hands up in anticipation as he spun with you, trying to keep you in front of him.

“You think all of this is easy for me?” You asked plainly, feeling every inch of your skin burning with your newly soaked anger. “Easy having you alive. Easy having to go against someone I work with, someone who helped save my life. Karen and Foggy and Lantom and Maggie, all of them wanted me to build bonds and create relationships with people so I wasn’t alone anymore. Well, look where it got me!”

“This is why I stayed away, Y/N.” He tried.

“Bullshit.” You scoffed. “You were being selfish.”

“I knew you had a good life. I knew I would only mess it up.”

“You didn’t mess up my life by coming back. You messed it up when you left, when you betrayed me.”

His hands faltered and you used it to your advantage. You moved quickly and slammed a knee against his chest. It forced him back and he grabbed both of your upper arms to keep you close.

“I couldn’t have betrayed you.” He spoke with a gentle firmness, an honest plea for you to believe him. “I never meant to-“

“What we do isn’t an accident! You don’t accidentally stay under a falling building for your ex-girlfriend. You don’t accidentally stay away from your actual girlfriend for months. You don’t accidentally tell someone that you never really trusted them!”

“You think I ever wanted to hurt you?” He countered. “After knowing where you came from, what you were supposed to be and what your mission was, I thought it was only a matter of time before you hurt me.”

“You think I never sat there and wondered if you were pretending? I never thought I was worth anything more than a bullet.”

“I’ve cared about you since we met, Y/N. You were always worth that.”

“I wasn’t!” You placed the other foot against the wall and kicked off , turning you two so you could slam him to the ground. “I loved you!”

“And I still love you! It was real. I know it was. I know it because you brought something to my life that I can’t stand the thought of losing.”

“Then why would you ask if it was real?” You asked softly, heart twisting in your chest.

“I don’t know.” He admitted with a sigh.

“Liar!” You shouted and slammed a fist down.

He moved his head so your fist hit the ground and the impact jolted up your arm. You threw the punch again and again, hitting the same spot in the concrete until Matt rolled you two up to a sitting position. He put his hands on either side of your face in an effort to force your attention to him. He made a small noise of discomfort when his palms met your skin, likely due to the heat still radiating off you.

One hand was shaking, knuckles bruised and bloody from assaulting the hard ground, while the other gingerly held your injury. Reluctantly, your eyes met Matt’s and even though it seemed like he was looking through you, you knew he was focused on you.

“I was convinced…” He began softly and the gentle tone made the heat slowly dissipate. “I thought that I had to hurt you so you would leave. But I… I couldn’t do it, Y/N. I just couldn’t.”

“But you did.” You answered, your voice small and distant. You leaned away and got to your feet, ignoring the disappointment that you could feel coming from him.

Without another word, you left him on the floor.

The next day went about as expected. Ray was looking into a few agents, but he wouldn’t tell you much. You watched from the media room as he flipped through files before pulling the camera log from the wall behind him. You knew he had to have found the time when Dex had turned the cameras off, likely finding a time when you went in after him. You waited until Ray hurried out of the room before you followed. You claimed you were feeling dizzy from the head injury you had gotten at the Bulletin incident so no one tried to stop you. Instead, you grabbed your duffle from the trunk and took off.

You changed your work shirt for your vigilante top in the closest alleyway after following Ray’s car, waiting to watch him for a minute while you fitted your mask into place. He stood in the alley by himself for a minute, but you and Matt joined him at the same time.

“What’s his name?” Matt asked simply, turning his head towards your presence but saying nothing.

“I need to be sure about you two. You guys have a history of hurting people.” Ray said firmly, looking between you both.

“I want Fisk in prison.” You said honestly. “I don’t want to kill your agent, but if he insists on being in my way, I will go through him.”

“I’m not handing you a federal agent if you’re gonna kill him.”

“I’ll get to him whether you give him to me or not.” You stepped closer to Ray but Matt grabbed your wrist. You turned to face him as your skin grew warm. “Get your hand off me.”

“What happened to partners?” Matt asked quietly.

“That would mean you trust me.”

“C’mon, Ex. If this is about last night-”

“If you’re right about him, taking Fisk down is our job.” Ray cut in.

“Oh really?” Matt said flatly so you yanked your arm back. “Because we all know where he’s sleeping these days. But I understand.. If there’s one thing we agree on, Nadeem, it’s the greater good. Like house incarceration in exchange for good intel.”

“Not everyone will like the choices we make.” You added, keeping your voice level. “But it’s up to us to make those choices.”

Matt turned to you. “Sometimes you have to hurt one person to save them, and others.”

“Oh please.” You scoffed. “Just tell us the name, Agent.”

“I need your word that you won’t touch him.” Ray tried and you felt bad.

Dex was someone that Ray had trusted, someone Ray had worked with for a long time. Dex knew Ray’s family and they were friends. They were supposed to look out for each other. But now they found themselves on opposite sides of the law with vigilantes going after them. You wished there was a better way but you had to get Dex away from Fisk, otherwise you’d never lock the bastard back up.

“Our word can’t mean anything to you.” Matt reasoned.

“But I need to hear you give it.” Ray insisted.

“I need him to testify against Fisk, so you got it.” Matt said simply. “Her, too.”

“You don’t speak for me.” You countered. “But you won’t convince him to switch sides. Fisk has played too many games with him. One more switch and he snaps.”

“You know who he is?” Ray asked you and you gave a small shrug.

“It’s not hard to connect dots if you pay attention.”

“We’ll slip into his place, look for any evidence that ties him to the attack on the Bulletin and to Fisk.” Ray offered, clearly looking for a way to save Dex. “If we find any, we leave it where it is.”

“You can get around a search warrant if we set off the fire alarm.”

“Exactly. But if we don't find anything, the guy goes on with his life.”

“Spit it out.” Matt said plainly. “Who is he?”

You wondered if this attitude was due to your most recent conversation or if that was just who he was, and the softer night you two had was just a lapse in judgment. His accusations from the night before made you wonder if, subconsciously, you had manipulated Matt into that tender moment. Maybe the man you met in college truly was gone.

Maybe only the Devil remained.

“Special Agent Ben Poindexter.” Ray said tightly and you let out a small sigh.

Matt turned towards you and you knew there was accusation in his expression. He had to have remembered the name from when you talked about Dex before Midland Circle, when you were at Anvil and waiting to hear from the FBI. It had to have clicked in his head why you hid his identity.

Dex was your partner, your friend. He was there for you while Matt was gone. He wanted to fault you for it, and while he didn’t appreciate you hiding that from him, he wasn’t going to bring it up then.

Later that night, you were waiting for Matt on Dex’s fire escape.

You slid open the window when he got there and he moved to let Ray in the front door. You let them wander the apartment while you moved towards the safe in the closet. If he was keeping the suit in his place, that’s where it’d be.

“I can’t call a crew to crack that.” Ray sighed.

Matt moved forward and got to work on it.

“I know the combination. You don’t have to-” You spoke loudly, but Matt ignored you. “And you’re doing it anyway, Great.”

“Wait, he can do that?” Ray asked with wide eyes.

“Not if you two keep talking.” He answered tightly.

You mocked him quietly and tapped your mask. You let it load up before leaning closer to the safe. Your eyes searched each shelf but found nothing out of the ordinary.

“It’s not there.” You said quietly as Matt got the door unlocked.

The boys looked through the safe and found nothing they could use. You were turning to leave when you heard the click of a tape player. Turning back, you saw Matt with Dex’s cassette player in hand as one of his old therapy tapes played.

You sighed slightly and felt a sudden spike of panic.

“What did you leave Poindexter doing?” You asked Ray when you realized it was coming from the direction of the bureau. Your implant pinged in your head and you had a feeling it was Dex. But you couldn’t answer it in front of Ray, so you had to leave it alone.

“Talking to an attorney about a wrongful termination suit. Why?” Ray answered as Matt went through more tapes.

“Because something is going very wrong. He’s about to break.”

As they listened to more and more tapes, you paced the apartment anxiously. The longer you were there, the closer that panic and instability got. When Matt looked towards the door, you tapped your mask and saw Dex coming down the hall.

“Убирайся.” You told them, giving Matt a shove. “Both of you. Out, now. He’s here.”(Get out.)

“You should go.” Matt told Ray.

“No, we had a deal. No evidence means you two don’t touch him!” He insisted.

“I found evidence.” Matt tried.

You groaned slightly as the two argued back and forth. You cracked the door slightly and saw Dex pulling glass adornments off the nearest light fixture. You cursed yourself quietly and shut the door again before grabbing both men by the collars and shoving them out the window.

“Go, now.” You said firmly. “I’ve got the best chance if we’ve gotta fight him.”

“What- Fight him? You said-“ Ray tried but you raised a hand and forced fear to the surface to get him to run.

“Make sure he gets out of here.” You told Matt when he hesitated. “Don’t make me make you.”

“Ex, don’t.” He tried but you did the same to him. But instead of fear, you pulled his betrayal to the surface.

Matt knew it was you. He knew what he was feeling wasn’t that serious. It wasn’t enough to make him abandon you, to leave you to stand against Poindexter on your own. But that didn’t make the urge any easier to fight. So he ran.

When you heard the door sneaking open, you moved the fire escape and pressed your back against the wall. You pulled a knife from your belt and angled it so you could watch his movements. He crept through his apartment carefully, noting the misplaced items and tapes scattered across the table.

“Show yourself.” He called out and you glanced above to find Matt and Ray, but you found no one. It made you wish you had stuck Matt with another comms piece, but blind faith would have to do for the moment. “I know you’re out there.”

One of the glass sticks came flying out and bounced off the railing in front of to knock into your blade. You gasped slightly and stuck your foot out so it landed against you rather than the metal of the fire escape.

“I can see you.” He called as you knelt to pick it up.

“How can you see me from over there?” You answered as you stood carefully. With a blade in one hand, you pulled your gun with the other.

“I was lying. Did you really fall for that?” He replied and you made a face to yourself before stepping out.

Your gun was raised and the hand with the knife braced your wrist. He stood tense with another piece in hand and ready to throw.

“Well done. Not many people are bold enough to lie to me. What’s your name?” You asked.

“You first, then maybe I’ll do the same.” He nodded towards you.

“Nice try.” You smiled. “But two can play this game, and I have a feeling that I’m better at it than you are.”

“Don’t be so modest. I know you’re that vigilante. Let’s be honest here. You’re Exodus.” His body language relaxed a little as you stared him down, picturing the tension fall away like melted snow. “Badass out in Hell’s Kitchen. Unmatched so far, witty, and brains behind some of the best strategies he’s seen.”

“If you’re looking for a mentor, Dex, I can make sure your time is well spent. I can put you to better use than Fisk can. I’ve never been to prison so it’s not like I’ve gotten caught.”

“That’s your plan?” He chuckled in disbelief. “You and me, best friends?”

“We’ll see how it ends.” You shrugged.

“Okay.” He scoffed. “Wait.. How’d you know my name?”

“I’ve done my research. Ever since you attacked the Bulletin a few nights ago but didn’t kill me and you bragged like you knew me. Like you knew my story with the real Daredevil. I wanted to know who I would be up against. You’re good, I’ll admit it. Fisk made a good choice in picking you, an elite FBI SWAT sniper. And your partner, Y/N. She had some nice words to say, but she’s worried about you.”

“Y/N?” His brows furrowed and the tension rose again. “What did you do to her?”

“We just talked. She wants to save you from yourself.”

“That why she didn’t answer her phone? Did you hurt her?”

“No. But she is a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” You offered a wicked smile and his anger grew sharply.

“Leave her out of this.”

“Should I leave Julie out of it, too?” You mocked.

“What did you do to her?” He shouted.

“Nothing.” You answered innocently. “Yet.”

His head cocked as he silently questioned if you were serious. You took the chance to fire a bullet just over his shoulder, close enough to graze the material of his jacket. When he dropped to the floor, you rushed up the fire escape and slipped into the apartment above. You found Matt and Ray and were able to get them to the ground just as the bullets came in.

“The shot came from across the alley.” Ray said through heavy breathing. Looking over, you saw he was hit.

You were quick to kneel beside him and pull off a glove. You looked to Matt and took in his anger so you could push it to the palm of your hand. You pressed the palm against Ray’s side and he groaned loudly as the faint smell of burnt skin permeated the apartment. It wouldn’t heal the wound but it would at least slow the bleeding.

“I think it came from downstairs.” Matt countered.

“He’s ricocheting the bullets.” You confirmed, ignoring the look Ray gave you. “I’ve seen him do it a hundred times. If he can see you, he can hit you.”

Matt threw a newspaper and rolled to the other side, hiding behind a bookcase. He was talking to you about how many shots Dex had left and the fact that the cops were called when you looked around and realized something. Even from your angle behind the sofa, you could see Matt in the mirror on the door.

“The mirror.” You said to yourself and Ray noticed it at the same time.

You looked around and found a book on the coffee table. You pulled your arm back and threw it as hard as you could against the mirror, watching the reflective surface shatter when the next round of bullets came in. When Matt said to run, you helped Ray out the door before sliding to sit under the window sill. Using your mask to see the floor below, you saw Dex moving to the fire escape.

You pushed Matt out first and as you were climbing out, you saw Dex coming up the steps. You grabbed both railings and kicked both feet against his chest to send your partner tumbling back down. Matt turned around but you pushed for him to keep going. You heard the climbing stop below you just before Matt grabbed your arms and switched positions so he could block the glass sticks being thrown with a trash can lid.

You two were reaching the roof when one piece came up and cut the strap of your mask, nicking your ear in the process. You grabbed the railing and leaned over to catch it, only to make eye contact with Dex. His arm was already drawn back to throw another one but he froze, eyes wide as he saw you.

You could see him mouth your name but you were too far away to hear it. But you weren’t far enough to miss the heavy hit of betrayal against your chest. You didn’t know what to do but when you saw Dex’s features illuminated by the police flashlights, you snapped from your daze and hurried onto the roof. You paced the area in a panic with your mask tightly in your fist.

“Hey.” Matt said when he realized what was happening. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“He knows.” You said quickly. “He knows who I am.”

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theetherealbloom · 1 year

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NOTRE DAME - CH. 2

Chapter 2: Sinners Come And Go

Summary: In the rafters of Clinton Church, a mysterious reader with the power of illusion manipulation silently watches over Matt Murdock, the blind vigilante known as Daredevil. As danger engulfs Hell's Kitchen, their unlikely friendship blossoms into a bond of trust and longing, intertwining their fates in a battle against darkness that tests their resolve. Will their connection illuminate a path to salvation in a city of darkness or lead them deeper into the abyss?

Paring: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt to Comfort, ANGST, friends-to-lovers, Religion, Fluff, Anxiety, PSTD, Nightmares, Catholic Guilt, Amnesia, Violence, Blood, Dark Undertones, Eventual SMUT, Shy Reader, Mentions of Abuse,

Word Count: 8.3k

A/N: HELLO UH!??!1 YA’LL ARE TOO KIND WHAT T^T You have no idea how nerve-wracking it is to write a Mattew Murdock fic because the perfectionist in me is afraid to get things wrong or things don’t connect or make sense ._. ANYWAYS… ENJOY MY WORD VOMIT.

Song: Mirage by Elina

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HELL’S KITCHEN, CLINTON CHURCH – DAY

As you step out of the church, the bells ring in the distance, and your thoughts focused on the errands Sister Maggie entrusted to you, you almost miss a step and stumble forward. A startled yelp escapes your lips as you regain your balance, feeling a surge of embarrassment wash over you. At that moment, your eyes dart toward the nearby bench, and your breath catches in your throat.

There he is, Matthew Murdock, sitting with his cane resting against the fence gate. His neatly tailored grey tuxedo and tinted red glasses hint at a man who exudes confidence. Father Paul Lantom joins him on the bench, taking a seat beside him.

Realizing you've stumbled upon an intimate conversation, you instinctively begin to back away, hoping to go unnoticed. But Father Lantom's voice cuts through the air, calling your name, and you wince, feeling caught in the sudden attention. Reluctantly, you stop in your tracks, anxiety pulsing through your veins.

Father Lantom's gaze meets yours, and he motions for you to approach. The mixture of concern and curiosity in his eyes only heightens your unease. Gathering your courage, you cautiously step forward, bracing yourself for this unexpected encounter.

Father Lantom's voice holds a touch of warmth as he addresses Matthew. "I'd like you to formally meet Matthew Murdock, the one you've been asking me about," he says, his words punctuated by a friendly smile. Matthew, ever casual, interjects, "Matt is fine. You've been asking about me?"

Your heart races in your chest as you come face-to-face with the man you've heard whispers about, the enigmatic figure who walks the line between justice and darkness. The knowledge of his secret identity sends a surge of adrenaline through your veins, intensifying the already charged atmosphere. You struggle to find your voice, transfixed by his presence, unable to utter a single word.

Meanwhile, Matt's heightened senses pick up on the rapid thud of your heartbeat, an anomaly amidst the ambient sounds of the city. He furrows his brow, curiosity piqued by the accelerated rhythm that betrays your nervousness. His keen instincts compel him to analyze every detail, searching for answers to the enigma before him.

Father Lantom, sensing your apprehension, redirects the conversation. "Allow me to introduce you," he says, gesturing towards you. With a gentle push, he prompts you to step closer. The world seems to slow down as you find yourself standing in front of Matthew Murdock, nerves tightening your grip. You spot the wound on the right side of his temple, fresh and red.

Matt's reddish-tinted glasses hint at eyes that he cannot see, yet his unsteady gaze feels piercing and perceptive. His voice carries a hint of curiosity as he speaks to you. "You've been asking about me?" he repeats, his tone inviting.

You muster the courage to respond, but instead, an odd noise escapes your lips—a mixture of surprise, nervousness, and the jumbled thoughts swirling in your mind. Father Lantom, concerned, leans in and asks, "Are you okay?"

You manage a nod, although your emotions remain tangled and your words trapped. It's an overwhelming moment, standing before the enigmatic man who walks a path shrouded in darkness.

"It's nice to meet you," you manage to say, your voice wavering slightly with nervousness. "Uh, I have to go, and you are probably extremely busy, and I have some errands to run. Bye." With those hurried words, you turn to leave, feeling a mix of relief and regret that the encounter was so brief.

Father Lantom watches you as you walk away, his gaze filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He calls out to you, reminding you to be safe and not to return late like you did the previous night. The reminder strikes a chord within you, reminding you of the events that had occurred.

You offer a quick wave of acknowledgment to Father Lantom, a silent promise to heed his advice, before hastening your steps and practically running away. As you depart, you can't help but sense Matt's intrigue, his uneven gaze lingering on your retreating form. It's as if he detected something in your reaction, a flicker of recognition or understanding. His curiosity piques, and a hint of suspicion tinges on his thoughts. He wonders what Father Lantom might have said to elicit such a reaction from you.

Unable to ignore his curiosity, Matt turns to Father Lantom and asks, "Who was she?" There's a hint of guardedness in his voice, his instincts as a vigilant protector on high alert.

Father Lantom, ever the wise and compassionate priest, responds calmly. "She's a hardworking young woman who often helps out around the church, community centers, and hospitals," he begins. "She came back late last night after spending time with one of her friends. Completely exhausted when she returned."

Matt listens intently, his senses attuned to every word. He carefully considers Father Lantom's explanation, piecing together the fragments of information. There's something intriguing about you, something that transcends mere chance encounters.

Father Lantom continues, his tone filled with admiration. "She has a strong sense of responsibility and dedication. I've seen her commitment firsthand. She's a remarkable individual." His words hold a note of respect and appreciation for your character, subtly urging Matt to reconsider any suspicions he might harbor.

Matt's response is a thoughtful hum, his mind working through the puzzle that is you. There's a part of him that remains cautious, cautious of the secrets that lurk in the shadows. But beneath that caution lies a growing curiosity, a desire to unravel the enigma that is the young woman who crossed his path.

As the conversation between Father Lantom and Matt continues, you find yourself distanced from their words, lost in your thoughts. The encounter has left an indelible impression, and the significance of this meeting begins to weigh heavily on your mind.

METRO-GENERAL HOSPITAL – AFTERNOON

With the groceries safely delivered to the church, you embark on another journey, a more personal purpose drives this time. Making a swift detour to the nearby flower shop, you carefully select a beautiful bouquet of Bluebells, their vibrant hues capturing the essence of hope and renewal.

Entering the familiar halls of Metro-General Hospital, you exchange warm greetings with one of the nurses, their friendly smiles brightening the atmosphere. Their words convey the anticipation of someone awaiting your arrival, and they mention Doris, someone who has been eagerly looking forward to seeing you. You respond with a gentle chuckle, a mixture of affection and amusement lacing your voice, "Yes, I'm here to see Doris. I had a few errands to run, but I brought some flowers for her."

As you make your way through the hospital corridors, a comforting warmth envelops your heart, knowing that this small act of kindness will bring joy to someone cherished. With a gentle tap on her door, you hear a soft voice inviting you in. Opening the door, you find her sitting upright in bed, her frail form nestled amidst the sea of white sheets.

"I was starting to think you had forgotten about me," she teases, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

"Forget about you? Never," you reply playfully, a smile spreading across your face.

"I'm just tryin’ to stick around long enough to see you married," she quips, her voice filled with love and concern. A hearty chuckle escapes your lips as you place the bouquet of Bluebells delicately into the vase beside her bed.

"If you have any suggestions, let me know because damn, the selection pool is tiny," you remark, a hint of playfulness in your voice. Doris raises an eyebrow, her gaze filled with knowing. "I have a feeling you've already met someone," she says with a knowing smile. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at her sudden accusation.

"What? Me? No," you stammer, attempting to hide the truth behind a feeble denial. Deep down, though, you know there might be a sliver of truth to her intuition. Taking a seat beside her, you feel her soft touch as she gently holds your hands, her touch both tender and reassuring. The rhythmic strokes against your knuckles feel like a soothing melody, as if she's taming a wild creature with her gentle caress.

"So, how is Ben holding up with the story he's chasing?" you inquire, your attention fully focused on Doris's response.

She rolls her eyes fondly, a mix of admiration and concern evident in her expression. "You know how he can get," she replies with a hint of a smile. You nod, understanding the relentless pursuit of truth that drives Ben.

"Maybe he's chasing the truth," you offer, contemplating the cost it may come with. Doris looks at you, her eyes filled with a motherly worry. "Maybe... I'm just worried that it might cost him something he cannot give back."

You nod once more, acknowledging her concerns. "The world needs more people like Ben," you say, your voice filled with conviction. "To shed light on the truth when no one else will. To have courage."

Doris reaches out and squeezes your hand, her eyes brimming with pride. "And the world needs more people like you too, my dear," she says softly. "People who bring kindness and light wherever they go."

Somewhere between then and now, irony found its place in your vocabulary, intertwining with your thoughts and experiences. Laughter, once a simple expression of joy, now carried the weight of bittersweetness and guilt. Sacrifice, once noble and selfless, became a mask for hidden shame. The haunting echoes of unnecessary deaths clung to you, a nightmarish burden that refused to let go.

In that elusive space between then and now, you grasped the profound truth that every action you took rippled through the world, leaving an indelible impact like the waves on an ocean stirred by a skipping stone. The concept of karma, once abstract, gained substance and became as palpable as the taste of seawater on your lips. It revealed itself as an undeniable force, shaping the intricate tapestry of existence and weaving its threads through your life.

Doris catches the flicker of longing in your eyes, sensing a shift in your mood that she can't quite pinpoint. Just as she's about to comment on it, a gentle knock resonates through the room, drawing your attention to the door. You turn, and there stands Ben, framed in the doorway, his presence both comforting and unexpected.

"Hi, Ben! Doris and I were just discussing your escapades," you greet him with a warm smile, noticing the forms he's holding in his hand.

Ben chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, really? I hope you were saying good things about me."

Doris joins in with a playful tone. "Well, we were just about to share all your deepest, darkest secrets."

Laughter fills the room as you engage in a lighthearted and witty conversation, exchanging banter and teasing remarks. The connection between the three of you is palpable, a testament to the bond you share.

Eventually, the topic shifts to Ben's work, and you inquire about his latest story. His expression turns slightly rueful as he replies, "Elisson put me on another fluff piece."

You can't help but roll your eyes in mock exasperation. "Let me guess, the Subway line? They know how to keep you on your toes, don't they?" Ben lets out a defeated sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "You have no idea. It's like they think I can't handle anything more substantial."

You shake your head sympathetically, understanding his frustration. "Well, just remember, even the smallest stories can have an impact. You have a way of uncovering the truth and shedding light on the overlooked."

A small smile tugs at the corner of Ben's lips, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thanks. I appreciate the reminder. I'll make the most of it." You nod, offering him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I have no doubt about that. Keep doing what you do best."

As you continue the conversation with Ben and Doris, you suddenly remember an urgent task waiting for you at the courthouse. Your expression shifts, and a touch of concern enters your eyes.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I just realized I have to pick up some important files from the courthouse," you explain, your voice laced with a sense of urgency. "There's a case I've been working on, and the deadline to submit the documentation is approaching. I need to get those files and review them before it's too late."

You glance at Ben, hoping he understands the pressing nature of your responsibility. "I promise I'll catch up with you later. We can continue our conversation then," you assure him, hoping to alleviate any disappointment.

Doris, perceptive as ever, gives you a knowing smile. "Don't worry about us, dear. We understand the importance of your work. Go ahead and take care of what you need to. We'll be here when you're done."

Feeling reassured by their understanding, you bid them a quick goodbye and make your way out of the hospital, your mind already focused on the tasks awaiting you at the courthouse.

NEW YORK STATE SUPREME COURT BUILDING – AFTERNOON

As you arrive at the courthouse to pick up the important files for your case, you find yourself drawn to the sounds of an ongoing hearing. Curiosity sparks within you, and a nagging feeling urges you to step inside the courtroom.

With the files safely in your possession, you discreetly find a seat in the back, hoping to observe the proceedings without drawing too much attention. It's at this moment that you realize the case being presented is none other than the trial of John Healy, and to your surprise, Matt and his partner are the defense attorneys.

With an exasperated sigh, you raise your eyes toward the ceiling, silently questioning God or some higher being in the universe as to why your path continues to intertwine with Matt's. The repeated encounters and the unexplainable pull you feel toward him have started to test your patience.

In your moments of frustration, you can't help but wonder if there's some higher force at play, orchestrating these seemingly chance encounters. It feels as if the universe itself is teasing you, nudging you toward a connection that you're not sure you're ready for.

Your eyes shift from the ceiling, bringing your attention back to the present moment. An intriguing mix of annoyance and curiosity swirls within you as you find yourself once again in close proximity to Matt. The mysterious dance of fate continues to weave its threads, leaving you uncertain about the significance of these encounters.

Your nervousness is palpable. The weight of anticipation settles upon your shoulders, making every beat of your heart resound in your ears. Matt's heightened senses come alive. His heightened hearing tunes into the rhythm of your heartbeat, the subtle scent that lingers around you, and even the nervous energy in the movement of your bouncing leg. It's as if he's attuned to every aspect of your presence, effortlessly picking up on the signals that betray your inner state.

It's as if Matt has unlocked a hidden dimension of perception, attuned to the nuances that others overlook. At this moment, he becomes an observer of your inner world, effortlessly deciphering the signals that betray your emotions. His acute senses offer him glimpses into your state of mind, painting an intricate portrait of your presence.

But for you, this silent exchange remains unknown. Lost in your thoughts, you are oblivious to the fact that your every heartbeat, every scent, and every nervous movement is meticulously captured by his extraordinary perception. Your inner struggles become part of a symphony that plays only for him, a delicate dance of emotions that silently unfolds.

"Mr. Murdock, we're waiting," the judge's voice breaks the silence, his commanding presence urging Matt to refocus his attention on the courtroom. Matt quickly offers his apologies, "Sorry, Your Honor."

Taking a deep breath, Matt sighs, his body shifting slightly as he gathers his thoughts. He speaks with an air of exasperation, his voice smooth as velvet, each word carrying weight. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, forgive me if I seem distracted. Lately, I've found myself preoccupied with questions of morality, of right and wrong, of good and evil."

There's a pause, as if the room holds its breath, anticipating his next words. Matt's confidence fills the air, his voice resonating with conviction. "Sometimes, the delineation between the two is a sharp line, clearly defined. Sometimes, it's a blur, difficult to discern. And often, it's like pornography. You just know it when you see it."

A ripple of laughter ripples through the courtroom, the tension momentarily lifted by Matt's skillful infusion of humor. Even you, caught up in the gravity of the moment, can't help but let a smile escape your lips.

"A man is dead," Matt continues, his tone shifting to one of solemnity, "I don't mean to make light of that fact. But these questions, these questions… are vital ones… because they tether us to each other… to humanity. Not everyone feels this way. Not everyone sees the sharp line, only the blur.”

His words hang in the air, their weight resonating within the courtroom. "A man is dead," Matt begins, his voice measured and deliberate. He pauses, allowing the gravity of those words to sink in. Licking his lips, he emphasizes the point once more, "A man is dead. And my client, John Healy, took his life. This is not in dispute. It is a matter of record, of fact. And facts have no moral judgment. They merely state what is, not what we think of them, not what we feel. They just are."

As the room listens intently, Matt shifts his stance, "What was in my client's heart when he took Mr. Prohaska's life, whether he is a good man or something else entirely, is irrelevant," he asserts. "These questions of good and evil, as important as they are, have no place in a court of law. Only the facts matter."

Matt gestures towards Healy, making his point clear. "My client claims he acted in self-defense. Mr. Prohaska's associates have refused to make a statement regarding the incident. The only other witness, a frightened young woman, has stated that my client was pleasant and friendly, and that she only saw the struggle with Mr. Prohaska after it had started. Those are the facts. Based on these, and these alone, the prosecution has failed to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that my client was not acting solely in self-defense. And those, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, are the facts."

He takes a few steps away from the jury, gesturing to Healy once more. "My client, based purely on the sanctity of the law which we've all sworn an oath to uphold, must be acquitted of these charges," Matt declares. His voice carries conviction and determination. "Now, beyond these walls," he points upwards, alluding to a higher being, "he may well face a judgment of his own making. But here, in this courtroom, the judgment is yours and yours alone."

Returning to his seat, Matt concludes his closing argument, leaving the jury to contemplate their decision. As you sit there, impressed by his eloquence and the strength of his words, you watch the jury's expressions shift, each member deep in thought. The weight of their responsibility is evident, as they hold the power to determine the fate of John Healy.

As the judge enters the courtroom and takes her seat, signaling for everyone to be seated, a sense of anticipation fills the air. You observe the room, taking note of the individuals present. That's when a tall Caucasian man with glasses and curly hair takes a seat next to you. His neat and tidy appearance suggests a person with a strict schedule and a methodical approach to life. Your attention shifts to Matt, noticing his slight head tilt in your direction, indicating his keen listening to the man's wristwatch.

An envelope is handed to the judge, who proceeds to open and read its contents. "Madam Foreperson, it's my understanding from this note that you have been unable to reach a verdict," she states. The old lady among the jury stands and confirms, "We have not, Your Honor."

Your eyes widen in surprise. The jury is hung, and an Allen Charge is issued. The judge addresses the courtroom, emphasizing the importance of the case and the significant investment of time, effort, money, and emotional strain for both the defense and prosecution. She highlights the potential consequences of a failure to reach a verdict, explaining that the case would remain open and might need to be retried. The judge further emphasizes that another trial would only increase costs without any guarantee of a better or more exhaustive outcome.

Your gaze shifts to Matt, who has removed his glasses, revealing a resigned expression. Your eyebrows furrow in disbelief. They should have won. At that moment, the man sitting next to you leans over and whispers, "One hell of a trial, hm?" You glance at him and nod, acknowledging the intensity and complexity of the situation.

As the courtroom empties and the trial comes to an end, you stand alongside the others, preparing to leave and hoping to avoid any encounters with Matt. The man who had been seated next to you earlier has already departed. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you step out of the courtroom doors, relieved to be away from the tense atmosphere.

Just as you're about to make your way out of the courthouse, a distant voice calls out your name. Turning in its direction, you see a woman approaching with her young daughter, their faces filled with a mix of gratitude and hope. You recognize them as Amanda and Lily, a mother and daughter who had been victims of abuse at the hands of Amanda's ex-husband.

Amanda approaches you, her eyes welling with tears, and asks for a hug. Overwhelmed by the emotions of the day, you embrace her tightly, holding back tears of your own. She expresses her heartfelt thanks, explaining that she had tried to contact you before but was prevented from doing so due to safety concerns. She tells you that her abuser, Mark, is now behind bars, and it's all thanks to your intervention and support.

Feeling humbled, you try to downplay your role, telling Amanda that you were just doing your job. But she insists, her voice filled with conviction, "No, you did so much more than that. You helped us find safety and gave us the courage to fight back. You're our hero."

As Amanda speaks, Lily, her seven-year-old daughter, tugs at your pants, clutching her stuffed animal tightly. You crouch down to her level, and she looks at you with wide, grateful eyes. Holding up her stuffed animal, she says with a shy smile, "This is Mr. Cuddles. He wants to say thank you too. You're our superhero."

Touched by their words, a tear or two slips down your cheeks. You shake your head in disbelief, feeling honored to have played a part in their journey toward healing and safety. "You know," you say, your voice filled with emotion as you tuck a strand of her hair, "Lily's bravery and your strength, were the true superpowers that brought us here today."

Unbeknownst to you, Matt and Foggy have been silently observing the heartfelt interaction from a distance. Foggy's face is adorned with a small smile, finding solace in witnessing the positive impact you've had on the lives of others. Meanwhile, Matt stands nearby, wearing his glasses once again and clutching his cane. His heightened senses detect a familiar presence, prompting a mix of suspicion and intrigue. He ponders the curious coincidence of crossing paths with you once more, wondering what it could mean in the grand scheme of things.

After bidding farewell to the mother and daughter, you embrace them one last time, cherishing the connection you've forged. As you lift your gaze, your heart skips a beat when you spot Matt standing alongside his associate, silently observing your interaction. Sensing a surge of emotions, you swiftly turn on your heels and hasten your steps, eager to put some distance between yourself and the courthouse.

As you navigate the bustling streets of the city, a sense of solace washes over you amid the crowd. You reassure yourself that Matt remains unaware of your true identity and abilities. In his perception, you are simply a volunteer at the church, a passing acquaintance. However, an unsettling tremor of unease creeps into your thoughts, causing your senses to heighten. The nagging feeling of being watched lingers, evoking a shiver down your spine.

Casting a fleeting glance over your shoulder, you quicken your steps in an attempt to shake off the eerie sensation. The bustling crowd provides no answers, leaving you to dismiss the feeling as mere paranoia. Determined to carry on, you refocus your attention straight ahead, your sights set on reaching the church and delving into the paperwork clasped tightly in your hands.

Unbeknownst to you, Matt's curiosity had been piqued by your encounters and his instincts led him to silently trail your steps. Though you had committed no wrongdoing and had demonstrated your dedication to the community, his blind trust in his senses drove him to observe you from a distance. With each measured tap of his cane, creating a familiar rhythm, pedestrians instinctively made way for him as he kept a careful ear on your movements, unable to retract the decision to follow once it had been set in motion.

CLINTON CHURCH – SUNSET

Stepping into the hallowed sanctuary of the church, a sense of tranquility washes over you. The soft glow of candlelight dances on the walls, casting an ethereal ambiance. The faithful, lost in their prayers, offer a gentle backdrop of silence.

With reverence, you navigate through the aisles, careful not to disturb those seeking solace. The weight of the files pressed against your chest serves as a reminder of the important work that lies ahead. Determined, you make your way towards Clinton's church office, a sanctuary within the sanctuary.

Inside the office, the familiar scent of aging books and polished wood greets you, creating an atmosphere of quiet industry. You settle in, placing the files on the desk before you, ready to dive into the tasks that await. But first, you take a moment to offer a silent prayer of your own, seeking guidance and strength to fulfill your responsibilities within the sacred walls of the church.

Lost in your work, the minutes slip away unnoticed. The rhythmic tapping of keys on your laptop fills the room, creating a sense of productivity and focus. It's only when a sudden knock interrupts your concentration that you jolt in surprise, nearly toppling over in your chair.

Your eyes widen as you take in the sight of Matthew Murdock standing before you. The unexpected encounter catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Matt takes a few steps closer, concern etched on his features, and asks if you're okay.

Blinking rapidly, you find your voice, though it betrays a hint of nervousness as you stand up, "Uh, yes, I'm fine. Just startled. Is there something I can help you with? Are you looking for Father Lantom?"

A charming smile graces Matt's face, causing a flutter in your chest. He responds, his voice smooth and captivating, "Actually, I wanted to speak with you."

Slightly leaning back, skepticism tugs at your brows, "Me? What about?"

Matt's smile remains unwavering, seemingly attuned to the subtle changes in your physiology. His heightened senses pick up on the rapid rise of your breath and the accelerated rhythm of your heart. As he takes in your scent, a mixture of nervousness and natural pheromones, his smile widens further.

"My friend and partner, Foggy, and I happened to overhear your conversation with the mother and her daughter," Matt reveals, his voice resonating with warmth and sincerity. "We were deeply moved by your dedication to helping those in need, people like her."

His words hang in the air, carrying a sense of genuine admiration and shared purpose. Matt's ability to perceive the nuances in your demeanor adds an air of intrigue to his presence. “Both of us, we’d like to offer our legal services in those cases. Pro bono if necessary.”

You find yourself momentarily lost for words, your mind racing as you grasp the card in your hands. You notice the intricate details, including the raised braille text, a thoughtful addition that resonates with you. Your fingers glide over the bumps, feeling the embossed characters as if trying to decipher the tactile message they convey.

A soft smile forms on your lips as you finally look up at Matt, gratitude and a touch of curiosity gleaming in your eyes. "Thank you," you say sincerely, your voice filled with appreciation. "I'll be sure to keep this card safe and reach out if the need arises."

The electric connection you felt when your fingers briefly brushed lingers in the air, leaving an indelible impression on your senses. You tuck the card into your pocket, holding onto the promise it represents.

A FEW DAYS LATER…

ST. AGNES ORPHANAGE – NIGHT

You balanced the phone between your ear and shoulder, deftly maneuvering through the remaining dishes as you washed them. The sound of running water created a soothing backdrop to your conversation with Claire.

"Claire, I'm calling to see if I can come over with the wine tonight, the one I bought last time around?" you asked, your voice filled with anticipation. The children had just finished dinner, and now it was time for some well-deserved relaxation and catching up with your friend.

A warm chuckle resonated through the phone as Claire responded, "Yes, please! Oh, and you definitely owe me an explanation for the whole invisible thing you've got going on." Her playful tone brought a smile to your face, the familiarity of her teasing banter comforting.

Snorting softly, you replied, "It's actually more complicated than that. But sure, I'll be there in a few minutes."

As you hung up the phone, you glanced around the clean kitchen, satisfied with the completed task. Drying your hands on a nearby towel, you turned to see Sister Maggie, the ever-watchful presence in the church, smiling at you.

You rolled your eyes affectionately, knowing she had overheard your conversation. Sister Maggie's caring tone reached your ears as she said, "Be sure to bring some bread and cheese for her."

A genuine smile graced your lips, appreciating Sister Maggie's thoughtfulness. You nodded in agreement. "Of course," you replied, your voice filled with gratitude. "I wouldn't forget." With a sense of warmth and anticipation, you gathered the necessary provisions, ready to share an evening of laughter and friendship with Claire.

TENTH AND 54TH, APARTMENT 412 – EVENING

With the strap of your purse on your shoulder, a bottle of wine held firmly in one hand, while the aroma of freshly baked goods and cheese wafted from the bag in your other hand. Stepping up to Claire's front door, you raised your hand and knocked, the sound echoing in the quiet evening.

As the door swung open, Claire greeted you with a warm smile, her eyes flickering with curiosity. "Hey! Come on in," she said, stepping back to allow you entry into her cozy apartment.

Upon seeing your arrival, concern was etched across her face. Claire's voice held a touch of worry as she asked, "Did you walk here?" She knew all too well the dangers of traversing the city streets alone, especially after dark.

Shaking your head, you reassured her, "God, no. I took a cab." The thought of walking all the way from the church to her place seemed daunting, even for someone as independent as you. With the brief moment of concern dissipating, the two of you entered the inviting space, ready to unwind, share stories, and savor the simple joys of good company and delightful treats.

As the evening unfolded and a couple of glasses of wine were enjoyed with the cat curled up on your lap, happily purring as you stroked the soft black fur. You found yourself sharing more about your unique abilities with Claire. With a mixture of excitement and caution, you explained the essence of your illusion powers, drawing from your personal experiences and knowledge.

"I have these... abilities," you began, your voice tinged with a sense of wonder. "I can create illusions, like visual and auditory tricks that can deceive people's senses. It's as if I can bend reality and make things appear different from what they really are."

Claire's eyes widened with intrigue, her curiosity growing. She leaned closer, eager to learn more. "That's incredible," she exclaimed, her voice filled with fascination. "How did you discover this? Have you learned to control it?"

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, reflecting on your journey of self-discovery. "I had a mentor, but it took time to understand and harness this power," you replied. "Through practice and exploration, I've learned to control and manipulate the illusions to some extent. It's an ongoing process, but I think I’m getting better at it."

Claire nodded, absorbing the information with genuine interest. "That's amazing," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "You have a truly unique gift. I can only imagine the incredible things you can do with it."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and comfort as Claire expressed her acceptance and awe towards your abilities. It was a rare opportunity to share this part of yourself with someone who could understand and appreciate it.

As the scraping and rattling sounds echo through the hallway, a wave of unease washes over you and Claire. Swiftly, Claire retrieves her phone from her purse and cautiously approaches the door, peering through the peephole. After a brief moment, she exhales in relief and lets out a chuckle.

"Just some old lady with a cart full of groceries," Claire reassures, her tension easing. She descends from her tiptoes and shakes her head at the unnecessary alarm. However, unbeknownst to both of you, ominous shadows cast by an unknown figure silently creep closer through the window behind you.

THE CITY OF NEW YORK POLICE DEPARTMENT 3RD PRECINCT – EVENING

"We're doing good here, Foggy," Matt affirms, a sense of contentment evident in his voice as his friend hails a cab for himself. Foggy raises an eyebrow and counters, "Are we?"

Matt, reaching for his phone in his blazer pocket, reassures him, "Yeah, we're making a difference." Just as he retrieves the device, it starts ringing, interrupting their conversation. Matt quickly answers the call, saying, "Hey, uh, one sec," before turning his attention back to Foggy.

"Foggy, I'll see you tomorrow," Matt states, a hint of mystery in his voice. Foggy, suspecting the reason behind the interruption, quips, "It's a girl, isn't it? You got a new phone just for your girls. My life sucks." He opens the door of the cab, ready to depart. Matt, wearing a knowing smile, bids him farewell, "Get home safe."

Finally, Matt puts the phone to his ear and greets the person on the other end, asking, "Hey, what's up?" Only to be responded with shrieking and yelling from the other end of the line.

As the Russian man held you tightly from behind, you could be heard kicking and screaming. Claire was desperately crawling across the floor, trying to reach the phone, but she was abruptly pulled back by the ankles by the second mobster.

“Claire? Claire, can you hear me?” You heard Matt's voice through the phone. You realized how much danger you and Claire were in. Your powers were about to surge when suddenly you were knocked out with the butt of a gun. You faintly heard Claire screaming your name as the two men carried you away into the night.

Matt hung up and felt his heart race with panic. He had no choice but to run into the street, folding his cane and darting into the nearest alleyway. He tossed his folded-up cane into a nearby trash bin, gaining momentum as he took a hard right and climbed atop a closed dumpster bin, before scaling over railings to get to the apartment where Claire was staying.

As he arrived at the apartment building, Matt's heart pounded in his chest, filled with worry for Claire's safety. He pushed the door open with urgency, causing it to swing violently on its hinges. Exhausted and breathless, he called out Claire's name, his voice filled with desperation.

Utilizing his heightened senses, Matt detected the faint electromagnetic waves emanating from Claire's phone. He swiftly located it and tossed it onto the table, relieved to have found it. However, the weight of his guilt and frustration overwhelmed him.

In a surge of anger, he grabbed a nearby dining chair and with a forceful swing, smashed it through the wall. The sound of splintering wood echoed through the apartment, a physical manifestation of his pent-up emotions. Matt stood there, panting heavily, as he tried to regain his composure amidst the wreckage.

Gradually, Matt's acute senses picked up on your familiar scent and presence within the apartment. The realization struck him—those men had taken you too. The weight of responsibility settled heavily on his shoulders as he questioned whether he was a harbinger of danger to those he cared about.

Taking a moment to center himself, Matt focused his heightened senses on the surroundings, seeking any clues or remnants of what had transpired. The lingering aroma of wine and cheese filled the air, indicating a friendship between you and Claire. The ethereal echoes of your presence, intertwined with Claire's, intensified his concern for your safety.

Moving swiftly, Matt navigated the apartment, guided by his heightened senses. He approached the partially open window and pushed it further, allowing the sounds of Hell's Kitchen to filter in. Leaning against the window ledge, he strained his ears, listening intently to the bustling streets below, hoping to catch any hints or whispers that could lead him closer to finding you.

As Matt focused his acute hearing, he sifted through the cacophony of voices and city sounds, honing in on the distinct Russian accents that caught his attention. Amidst the chaotic symphony, he detected the muffled screams of Claire, resonating with desperation and fear.

His heart sank as he discerned the sound of a car trunk slamming shut, accompanied by the absence of your heartbeat in his aural landscape. Worry surged through him, the possibility of you being severely injured or worse weighing heavily on his mind.

Determined to rescue both you and Claire, Matt swiftly devised a plan, relying on his honed senses and agile abilities. With a resolute expression, he runs out the door, embarking on a relentless pursuit to locate the car and free you from the clutches of your captors.

VELOS TAXI SERVICE – EVENING

You were abruptly awoken by a frigid deluge of water splashed onto your face, bringing you to full consciousness. You find yourself with your hands bounded behind your back, encircled by Russian mobsters, and as you look around, you see Claire slumped against one of the many parked taxis, coughing out blood and clearly battered. A man approaches you and you glare at him fiercely.

"If you cooperate, we won't have to resort to violence against you, nor will we have to keep hurting her," the man said in his thick Russian accent, gesturing with a metal bat toward Claire.

You resisted the urge to activate your powers, knowing that revealing your abilities would jeopardize not only your safety but also the lives of those at Clinton Church and St. Agnes. "What the fuck do you want?" you seethed, your voice filled with defiance. The man leaned closer, gripping your chin tightly. "Tell me his name," he demanded, his tone filled with menace.

You mockingly tilted your head at him, a defiant smirk playing on your lips. "His name? Oh, you mean the guy you're so desperate to find?" you taunted, despite the dire circumstances. "Why don't you try using those brain cells of yours to figure it out? Or are you too busy relying on violence and intimidation?"

The man's grip tightened on your chin, his eyes narrowing with anger. "Don't play games with me," he growled, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "You think you're clever, but you're just making this harder for yourself and your friend."

You let out a dark chuckle, unyielding in the face of his threats. "Oh, I'm not playing games. I'm just enjoying watching you squirm," you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "But let me give you a hint, tough guy. You're barking up the wrong tree."

That earns you a strike to your stomach and to the side of your face from a different man. You cough out blood and spit it out on the concrete floor. The man with the bat yells once more, “Give me his name!” To which you say nothing, merely sneeringly staring at him. This fuels his anger and his about to swing the bat to your head a man blocks it before he strikes you while saying to his fellow mobster in Russian, “Sergei… Vladimir told us not to kill her until one of them talks.”

Sergei sighs and says as he walks a few steps away from you, “This gives me no pleasure. It really doesn’t. But I have been given a job to do. So please, answer the questions that I was told to ask.” He then points the metal bat to your chest and raising it to lift your chin, “Or I will begin breaking you, a piece at a time.”

You steal a quick glance at Claire, her eyes brimming with fear and pain, silently begging you to find a solution that won't compromise Matt’s identity. Your body quivers with exhaustion, blood trickling down your head and nose from the merciless beating you endured.

With a feeble chuckle, you manage to utter, "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a fracture for a fracture. The one who caused the harm should suffer the same fate. But honestly, that seems a little too fair, don't you think?" The mobsters exchange confused glances, unsure how to respond to your unexpected remark. The tension in the air grows palpable as they hesitate, momentarily thrown off balance by your defiance.

Suddenly, the lights of the taxi service garage shut down, cascading all of you in a blanket of darkness. Sergei begins demanding orders to his other men while Claire begins to laugh, “You want his name?” she says, “Ask him yourself.”

They begin to turn on the headlights of their parked taxi’s, the yellow lights barely give any visibility. Utilizing your abilities discreetly, you create subtle illusions, distorting the mobsters' perceptions. Shadows dance and figures appear in the corners of their vision, distracting them from the real threat.

As Matt moves with astonishing agility and precision, the mobsters swing their weapons blindly, striking nothing but empty air. With each swing and bullet they waste, they grow more frustrated and disoriented, falling prey to the illusions you strategically place in their line of sight.

One mobster, driven by anger and desperation, charges towards Matt, unaware of the trap that awaits him. You project a convincing illusion of a wall directly in the assailant's path, causing him to crash into it with a resounding thud.

Seizing the opportunity, Matt springs into action, his enhanced senses guiding his every move. He swiftly incapacitates one mobster after another, his punches and kicks landing with calculated accuracy. The sound of bones cracking and groans of pain fill the air as the fight intensifies.

In the midst of the chaos, you continue to manipulate the shadows, obscuring your presence and diverting attention away from Matt's relentless onslaught. The mobsters, bewildered by the illusions, struggle to differentiate between reality and deception. With each passing moment, the tide of the battle shifts in Matt's favor. His acrobatic maneuvers and precise strikes leave the mobsters battered and defeated.

As the exhaustion and physical strain reached their peak, you found yourself unable to maintain your balance, even while bound to the chair. Dizziness engulfed your senses, and waves of nausea washed over you relentlessly.

Claire's panicked voice filled the room, desperately calling out your name, but your body refused to respond. Despite your best efforts to stay conscious, the overwhelming fatigue won the battle, and you succumbed to unconsciousness, slumped in the chair, your head hanging forward.

Bound and helpless, you drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, unaware of the chaos unfolding around you.

CLINTON CHURCH – EARLY MORNING

As you slowly regained consciousness, the sound of muffled voices reached your ears. Fluttering your eyes open, you found yourself greeted by the familiar figures of Sister Maggie and Father Lantom. A mixture of relief and apprehension washed over you as you tried to gather your thoughts.

Anxiety consumed you, and you blurted out, "Does Matt know? Does he know about me?" Your heart raced, fearing that your secret involvement with Matt's nightly activities had been exposed.

Father Lantom, his expression calm and understanding, shook his head gently, as if he had anticipated your concerns. He reassured you, "No, he doesn't know. We brought you here to ensure your safety. Matt dropped you off with us."

A wave of relief washes over you, your tense muscles finally relaxing. You nod, grateful that your secret remains intact. However, a hint of frustration lingers in Sister Maggie's voice as she voices her concerns about your willingness to put your life on the line for someone who remains oblivious to your assistance. She questions the fairness of your sacrifice.

"I don't understand," Sister Maggie says, her tone filled with frustration. "You're risking everything for Matt, and he doesn't even know the extent of your involvement. Is it truly fair to endanger yourself while he remains unaware?"

Taking a deep breath, you gather your resolve. You sense a hidden reason to Sister Maggie's concerns, but your conviction remains unshaken. In your determined voice, you reply, "Sister Maggie, sometimes doing what's right requires taking risks, even if it means staying hidden in the shadows. I believe in the greater cause, in fighting for justice, even if my efforts go unnoticed. Matt is out there every night, putting himself in harm's way for this city. It's only right that I do my part, even if it remains unknown to him. I trust that my support, can make a difference."

Sister Maggie's expression softens, a mix of concern and admiration in her eyes. She nods, realizing the strength of your conviction. "I understand your perspective," she says, her voice tinged with a touch of sadness. "Just promise me that you'll take care of yourself. The path you've chosen is a challenging one."

You meet Sister Maggie's gaze, determination burning in your eyes. "I promise, Sister. I'll do everything I can to stay safe. But I won't stop fighting for what's right."

With a nod of understanding, Sister Maggie gently embraces you, her silent support and belief in your cause reinforcing your determination. You know the road ahead will be treacherous, but your resolve remains unyielding. You are the silent guardian, the hidden ally, fighting for justice from the shadows, even if it means sacrificing recognition and remaining unknown to the one you assist.

END NOTES:

Whoever invented 7am to 6pm classes with a one hour break being 12pm-1pm… I hope you never have a working charger and that you always get stuck in traffic. And know that I haven’t prayed in a while but I literally started to pray for an asteroid to come and hit me bcs I was completely exhausted today and I wasn’t totally sure if any of this makes sense… yay!

Obviously, Matt isn’t all that stupid. He’s more than likely going to check on you in a few days but like discreetly, not in a way he knows something had happened. Claire eventually has to leave but there’s obv a few things in between to tie up some loose ends.

When I got home I just sat in the shower and stared at the tiles for a good half-hour because yes, I was that tired. 10/10 would recommend.

Tbh, when I started this series I was like, hrm what if I just skip S1, S2, and immediately jump to S3. Yeah… nope.

Okay idk who reads this but yeah, I love you guys. You literally deserve all the good in the universe. <3

#matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x reader #matthew murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you #ethereal writes #Notre Dame Daredevil Series #daredevil #matthew murdock

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moreover-moreover · 1 month

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Just finished my thousandth rewatch of Daredevil Season 3, and I have A Lot of thoughts.

I love the constant parallels between the different characters. It brings out so much depth in each character, and it also drives home how community, friendship and (the right kind of) companionship can make the difference between a straight or wayward path.

Matt vs. Dex

Sister Maggie points out the similarities between them, to which Matt responds in denial. Nonetheless, they both have what Dex described as a “shitty childhood” - no parents, fear of abandonment/loneliness, and pent-up rage.

Both are angry, grappling with their respective realities, and subconsciously looking for a “North Star”. While Dex more obviously searches for a reference point, it’s notable that Matt does too. He briefly references Stick as his mentor, as well as Father Lantom whom he looked towards for guidance. In the last episode, he asks Sister Maggie to fill in for Father Lantom’s role (not that she hasn’t already been filling in, for the whole season).

The difference is the strong social ties Matt was lucky to have, that provided him with some scaffolding to crest through his difficulties. That included the church and his friends, perhaps even Stick to some extent. Conversely, when Dr Mercer’s ties to Dex are cut, it’s likely the beginning of the end for Dex. While Nadeem turns out to have “betrayed” Dex (by searching his house), and Julie seemingly “abandons” Dex, Matt’s friends on the other hand stubbornly refuse to let him go - thereby becoming his redemption.

Matt vs. Dex vs. Fisk

Fisk tells Dex to release his rage with a primal scream, which he does, several times. Lesser flagged out is that Matt does the same, in the last episode - when he is on the verge of killing Fisk.

At that point, we are made to confront the similarities between all three men - before we are, quite thankfully, shown that Matt can be pulled back from the brink by love (Vanessa begging him not to kill Fisk).

It’s interesting also to note that these three demonstrate a willingness to be killed - Matt is ready to end his life in Episode 1, and Dex in Episode 6, when they no longer know their place in the world. Fisk, too, tries to bait Matt into ending him, in the last episode, as a nice mirror or book-end to how Matt tried to do the same for himself in Episode 1.

Their extreme behavior sets them apart from the other characters - although unfortunately, it is Nadeem and Father Lantom who die in the course of events.

More on the relationships between the characters in the next post!

#daredevil #daredevil-MCU #daredevil-Netflix #Matt Murdock #Wilson Fisk #Benjamin Poindexter #daredevil season 3

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metalphoenix · 1 year

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Matt Murdock has a Tumblr

This came from from a conversation I had with my friend @marvelvibess and was posted with their permission.

-Matt got tumblr around the time he became Daredevil, maybe a little before

-He has three kinds of posts: Pulitzer worthy treatise on morality, truth and justice, the most unhinged shitposts known to man and incoherent nonsense, there is no in between

-He gathers quite a following

-He post 2-3 times a week exclusively in the middle of the night

-His user is BlindJustice666

-Everyone is like who is this fucker and is he ok (the consensus is that he is very not ok)

-Sometimes he posts things like “I think God wants me dead” and everyone is like ok mood but are you good??? (he’s not)

-People genuinely can’t tell if he’s a devout catholic or a troll (plot twist he’s both)

-Someone: OP you good? BlindJustice666: God has forsaken me to live for my sins. Someone: Understandable have a nice day

-Someone: OP you good? BlindJustice666: *audio clip of someone screaming* Someone: Understandable have a nice day

-He either has the best tags or literally none

-Everyone is like this person either has a PhD or dropped out of High school and they don’t know which

-Someone: Hey OP what do you do for a living? BlindJustice666: *longwinded answer about serving truth and justice that clears nothing up*

-The post after that is the same ask except this time he responds “well sometimes I punch people”

-No one knows whats up with him but they love it

-He gets the most batshit asks and he answers every single one

-After season 3 Karen and Foggy find it

-They go to the Upper East Side to read it together thinking their gonna have a laugh but end up sobbing instead

-They make it a weekly thing to go somewhere he wont here them and read his new posts to check up on him.

-They sometimes send him anonymous asks to check in with him

-When he posts incoherent nonsense they know to check for a concussion

-He’s somehow unaware that they found his blog

-Matt makes a very angsty and dramatic post after the fight with Foggy in season 1. Everyone offers to fight the friend he’s talking about.

-When Foggy finds this post it hits him how shitty he was that night

-At the beginning of Season 3 he makes some very angsty posts that low key makes everyone worried he’s gonna kill himself (their not wrong)

-Every few months he posts something thats a red flag

-Matt figures out his autistic from tumblr (he’s absolutely autistic and you can pry that head canon from my cold dead hands)

-He finds out because he posts something and someone responds “hey OP you ever hear of autism cuz I’m like 99% sure you’ve got it”

-He’s like 😮😮😮 {three shocked emojis} and does’t post for two weeks which is worrying to everyone because because its around the time he’s made a red flag post but he comes back and starts posting like nothings happened

-He deep dived into researching autism and figures out that he indeed has it

-This is around season 1 and he tells no one

-he makes some posts about it months later

-Karen and Foggy find these posts after season 3 and are like “fuck” and start trying to surreptitiously accommodating that without letting him know that they know

-He stops posting right after Midland Circle (obviously) and everyone is worried

-The first post after is “Sorry I disappeared for a while I died for like a week them my arch nemesis tried to kill me and I kind of think I’m hallucinating???”

-He posts “why do I fail at everything? I can not even die properly. God has forsaken me to live. His retribution is worse than Hell itself” after his Season 3 suicide attempt and everyone is worried (as they should be)

-After that people send him asks like hey please keep living you make out lives better

-He absolutely looses it when he sees those asks and Maggie finds him sobbing on the floor. he’s like “oh no they don’t know how terrible a person I am”

-He makes a whole post apologizing for playing them and making them think he’s not a monster

-no one believes it

-Eventually Karen shows Sister Maggie the blog so she can also keep an eye on him.

-Her user name is just maggie

-She doesn’t really post anything but if she did Tumblr would love her

-Matt never makes posts with info that could be linked back to him

-However he does make some posts that are supposed to be “fun stories” from his childhood

-He has some posts about Stick

-BlindJustice666: *random super fucked up story about Stick* So that was a weird thing that happened lol. Everyone: *concern*

-Everyone is mildly concerned that he was a child soldier (Their not wrong)

-Everything he posts is so incredibly specific or very very vague

-In conclusion Matt needs a tumblr like yesterday, he’s just the right amount of chaos to fit in well here

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nonobadcat · 2 years

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All For One x Fem! Reader : Hands-On Instruction - Japanese Translations

Original Fic - here

Ao3 mirror

Rating: 18+ Readers only Content Warnings: Dubcon (alcohol/manipulation), size kink, implied stalking, PnV with mild mating press, a metric ton of romanji Japanese dialogue, unsafe relations with creampie, unhealthy power dynamics between professor and former student

Please note: This story will contain numerous conversations in Japanese which has been phonetically spelled out using the Latin alphabet. The author does not have any formal education in Japanese. The resources used to create the dialogue are:

Maggie-Sensei.com - School Related Vocab

SG Forums - JAPANESE HENTAI WORDS (2008)

sci.lang.japan

600 basic Japanese verbs : the essential reference guide - Author: Hiroo Japanese Center

The True Japan.com

Gaijin Pot.com

Youtube "RUDE Japanese Words You Use Without Knowing"- Japanese Ammo with Misa

Translations (in order of appearance in the dialogue):

Taihen desu ne - “That sounds rough”

Apāto ni ikitakunai - “I don’t want to go back to my apartment”

Kowaidesu - “It’s scary” or “I’m scared.”

Benchi wa dame desu - "The bench is no good" or "You shouldn't stay on the bench"

Benchi ga suki - "I like the bench"

Doko ni ikimaska? - “Where are we going?”

Kaerimashou - “Let’s go home.”

Sotsugyousei-san - “Miss/Mister Graduate”

Otearai wa doko desu ka - “Where is the toilet?”

Kokodesu - “It’s here.”

Tetsudatte mashouka? - “Do you need help?” (informal tone). You might use this more with friends.

Genkika - “Are you all right?”

Hai - “Yes”

Gohan tabeta? - “Did you eat?” (informal)

Iie - “No”

Demo… - “but…”

Kirei desu ne? - “Beautiful isn’t it?”

Gomenasai - “Sorry” (slightly more formal - you might use this with a authority figure but one that you have a relationship with)

Iie Iie - “Don’t worry about it.” or “It’s not a big deal.”

Tabete kudasai - “Please eat” (informal)

Itadakimasu - Something that is said at the start of a meal - “I humbly receive”

Jōzu - “Good” but like a shortened “Good job” or “You’re good at this.”

Ano - “Um…”

Gohan wa tarita - “This amount of food is enough.”

Ja - “Okay then” or “Fine then”

Matte kudasai - “Please wait!” (informal)

Ochitsuite - “Be quiet” or “hush”

Kanpeki - “Perfect”.

Saa, ressun wo hajimemashou ka? - “So… Shall we begin the lesson?”

Itte kudasai - “Please say” (this tone mimics how a teacher would ask students in a classroom)

Oppai - "Breasts" or "Tits"- vulgar term

Kiite kudasai - “Please listen” (this tone mimics how a teacher would ask students in a classroom)

Jodan desu ne? - “You’re joking?” or “This is a joke, right?”

Jodan ja nai - “I’m not joking” or “This is not a joke.”

Ripīto shite kudasai - “Repeat this exactly as I said it” or “Repeat after me” (this tone mimics how a teacher would ask students in a classroom)

Kimi-ga hoshii - “I want you” (carnally - male form)

Anata ga hoshii - “I want you” (carnally - female form)

Nureteru - “It’s wet” or “You’re wet” or “So wet.”

Irete hoshii - “Put it in” or “I want it now!” (carnal)

Yabai - “Very bad” but in this context it’d be more like “This is bad because what you did turned me on a lot.” or “Oh fuck!”

Nama ga ii - “I want to be close” but the meaning is more “I want it bareback” or “skip the condom” in this case.

Subarashii - “Wonderful”

Motto Fukaku - “Deeper”

Machigatte imasu - “That’s incorrect” (this tone mimics how a teacher would tell students in a classroom)

Hakkiri hatsuon shite kudasai - “Please enunciate when you say it” (this tone mimics how a teacher would tell students in a classroom)

Hidoi desu - “You’re awful” or “You’re the worst”

Kawaisou - “You poor baby” (mocking/insulting word - avoid this unless you are purposely picking a fight)

Mite kudasai - “Please look closely at this” (this tone mimics how a teacher would tell students in a classroom)

Motto hayaku - “Faster”

Chotto matte kudasai - “Hold up a minute” or “Please wait a moment”

Oooki/Ookii ka? “It’s big.” or “Oh really? Is it big?”

Motto yukkuri - “Slower” - In this case, you might say this to someone who was speaking too fast but it could also be used to say “take me slower” during sex. Shigaraki i pointing out that when you said this during class he was having dirty fantasies about hearing it in another context.

Onegai - “Please” but in a begging form.

Sugei kawaii - “You’re adorable”

Yokatta? - “Is this better?” or “(Are you) relieved?”

Kimochi ii - “It feels sooooo good.”

Gaman dekinai - “I can’t hold back”

Daijoubu - “It’s okay” or “I’m okay”

Chotto hayaku - “A little faster”

Chotto? - “A little?” (Contextual Meaning - “Are you serious? I just told you I can’t hold back and you’re asking me to speed up just a little? I’m dying here!”

Shizuka ni shite kudasai - “Would you please be a bit more quiet?” or a very polite “Please shut up” like you would use to reprimand a child at daycare or a colleague at work.

Hentai - “Pervert”. Also the term for animated porn

Nakadashi wa ii da yo - “It’s okay to cum inside” or “creampie me”

Dame - “No good!” or “You can’t” or “Don’t do that”

Ripīto shiro - “You will fucking repeat what I said!” - Very rude/rough/coarse command.

Iku - “I’m coming” (This phrase has a double meaning just like in English - can be “I’m coming along” or very sexual)

Ore no Sotsugyousei-san - “My little Miss/Mister Graduate” (possessive - like owning an object).

Oyasumi - “Sleep tight”

#hands-on instruction #badcat references

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afilmbykirkk · 2 years

Note

here's a list from my notes, I have no idea how the books are. You can search a few of them and get started!🤗

MATT HAIG, HOW TO STOP TIME🤩🤩

Six of crows by Leigh bardugo

Confessions of a mask by Yukio Mishima

ROB BRESNEY💛💛

yesterday I was the moon, noor unnhur

Silent forests of the heart by Daisy Fried

The night circus by Erin morgenstern⬅️

Renegades by marrisa meyer⬅️

Bring me their hearts by Sara wolf

Vampire Academy by Richelle Mead

The bone houses by Emily Loyyd

the rest of the story by Sarah Dessen

The raven boys by Maggie Stevater

Sabriel by Garth Nix

The invisible life of Addie Larue by WE Schwab

Poison study by Maria V. Snyder

Karen Marie Morning ,dark fever

Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan

Ash Princess by Laura Sebestian

The Final Empire by Branson Senderson

Air Awarens by Elise Kova

Graceling by Kristin Cashore

Oath Taker by Audrey Grey

The iron king by Julie Kagawa

King of ashes by Raymond Fiest

Everything I never told you by Celeste ng

The silent companions -horror

The violent delights

Nightbooks by j.a.white

Inkmistress

All the birds, Singing by Evie Wylde

My heart and other black holes

Emergency contact

And a few poems by Emily Dickinson

Chain of gold series by Cassandra Clare

Pride and prejudice

conversation with friends

Dance of thieves by Mary E. Pearson

The shadows between us

priory of the orange tree

Jede fire gold by June CL Tan

looking for Alaska

Jane Eyre, salley Rooney's work

little women

Norwegian wood

when dimple met rishi

diary of a young girl

then there were none

city of bones

the books of lost names

lovely war by Julie Berry

a good girl's guide to murder trilogy

the cruel price trio

shadows and bones

I wish I knew about love by Kristie taylor

the bride test by Helen hoang

from lukov with love by Mariana Zapata

soulmate equation by Christina Lauren

Red white royal blue

SAD-

how to make friends with the dark by Kathleen Gladgow

life in a fishbowl by Len Vlahos

All the bright places by Jennifer Niven

how it feels to float by Helena fox

Orbiting Jupiter by Gary D. Schmdit

CHANGE, EDIT-

Aristotle and Dante discover the secrets of the universe

Ace of shades⬅️⬅️⬅️⬅️⬅️⬅️⬅️⬅️⬅️⬅️

an ember in the ashes

the kiss quotient

the problem with forever

heart bones

american queen

Girl, serpent, thorn🌟🌟🌟

lovelywar by Julie Berry

bridge of clay by mark xusak

strange the dream by laini taylor

SWEET SACRIFICE ❤️❤️❤️❤️

city of bones/falling angels book series

ANON I LOVE YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH

#wolfie has answered #nu answers #lovely anons #save #book recommendations

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moonlayl · 2 years

Text

As interested as I was in Karen’s backstory, I am a little disappointed we got more than half an episode about it, when literally the whole thing could’ve been summarized by that conversation Karen had with Matt in the end, or maybe just a flashback of the scene with Karen, her brother, and her ex.

Like the episode right before ended in a cliff hanger, and there was so many things I wanted the show to touch on more. Moments between Matt and Foggy (s3 was criminally lacking in that department, despite their friendship apparently being one of the most important things in the show) Foggy not immediately being okay with everything, more about Sister Maggie and her relationship with Matt, Matt getting to actually grieve Elektra, Stick and Father Lantom. Marci being a little more relevant to the plot. Getting to see Vanessa a bit more and her playing a bigger role as an actual villain and partner to Fisk, etc…

yet we get almost an entire episode dedicated to Karen’s backstory, even though a lot of it wasn’t really new information, or wasn’t relevant at all.

We already knew quite a few people had died as a result of her actions before (usually indirectly and this isn’t actually me blaming her for those) Ben, Wesley (this is not a criticism of Karen, Wesley’s death was one of my favourite scenes) that guy who wanted to testify against Fisk and also Father Lantom. So we know she’s carrying around a lot of guilt.

Earlier in the season, we were told people accused her of killing her brother. Also before the tenth episode, we got her father saying “it’s what you do”. So we already knew something happened regarding her brother.

A conversation with Matt (or hell, Sister Maggie or even Father Lantom) could’ve easily told the audience all the relevant pieces of information. “After my mother died, I got into a relationship with someone, got into drugs, a fight occurred between my brother and him and I drove away while still being high which resulted in a car accident that took his life. I left town after that and made my way to New York City, and I still blame myself for my brother’s death.”

Something along those lines.

All those scenes really weren’t necessarily, especially given the fact that there were only 3 episodes left to the season, and there was still so many things that needed to be dealt with.

I was interested for sure, but a part of me wanted to skip through it, because season 3 was insane and had so much going on, the inclusion of the Karen scenes just felt off and unnecessary. It didn’t add much to the character, at least not important things we couldn’t have learned another way.

#daredevil s3 #daredevil #daredevil season 3 #marvel #marvel tv #karen page #layl.text

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daremartyevil · 2 years

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EVERYBODY KNOWS THE DEVIL, chapter two| M. MURDOCK

➤ Chapter two: Nothing is as simple as a deal with the devil

pairing: western!matt murdock x afab!reader

summary: you and the devil of hell’s kitchen need to have a talk if both of you wish to take down the serpents. even if you guys want to do it in different ways (and that's a good reason for this conversation). and what a better place to discuss “not vigilante and vigilante’s business” than at josie’s?

word count: 3,3K

warnings: no use of y/n. even with the reader being referred to by they/them, people will also refer to them as a woman because of the period, so sorry. threatens (nothing really happens, reader is just too bitter). mention to catholicism and references to a saint and a bible verse. (slightly???) hallucination (two idiots in love, picking on each other)

SERIES MASTERLIST | prologue | chapter one

What do you do when the Devil “offers” you a talk?

Obviously, the first thing you do isn’t wish you didn't believe in God, right? Wrong.

If it's wrong to wish for such a thing, well, what a shame. There goes another reason for you not being God's favorite doctor on Earth.

Either way, you curse yourself for not having guessed that Matt was a catholic before. Of course, the vigilante who never kills is a catholic, it’s all about the guilt. It was under your nose all along.

Gosh, how much you hate to believe in God.

As if the man in front of you can read your thoughts, Matt faces you with a scolding on his face, waiting for your cooperation or not. You feel a hole being burned into your face and it's hard to tell if it's the watcher's senses focusing on you or the Church itself.

And even though all this pressure is coming from Matt alone, it isn’t easy to know if his impatience is due to your lack of response or the way that less than 24 hours ago you literally tried to get rid of him. For good reasons, you would add to yourself but it may not have a difference to the damn catholic.

Father Lantom, from inside the confessional, looks between the both of you but does not interfere. From what it seems, he doesn’t want to put his nose in your business.

How convenient.

“What if I say that I’m not interested?” you have to test the waters, don’t you?

Mimicking you, the man cocks his head and lifts a brow at you.

“Then we will continue to be each other problems” Matt fixes his tie, a smile painting his face smugly, “And we can avoid that”

“And since when I’m a pain in your ass?” you flinch from his touch and cross arms, studying his expressions hidden for the dark pince-nez, “For what I know, you’re the only one getting on the way”

“Since I learned how willing you are to kill each of those Serpents instead of letting them be properly judged” carefully, he whispers word by word and you can’t stop yourself from wanting to hang him in the public square.

It's not enough how many times you commit mental blasphemy, you still have to hold back not to curse God and his damn soldier inside his sanctuary. What bad luck of yours.

“I would say for you to look but it isn’t like you could, so listen very carefully,” besides his posture, as you say so, you see Matt gulps and put his hand on his hip, “Continue with the flannel mouth talk and you’ll wish to be fucking Laza-”

Before continuing, you are interrupted by a hand on your shoulder and Matt's as another presence enters the conversation.

Sister Maggie smiles tenderly between you and the blind watcher. As if she were a mother about to tug her two children's ears.

If Matt would cut you up before, he gives up, sensing the nun's presence and huffing at the ironic situation the two of you find yourself in now. Ironic, at least, just for him.

“Gentleman,” something in the Sister’s tone makes Matt purses his lips, holding himself back to not do anything that could mean being scolded later, “And... Person in between”

Whilst you smile back at the nun, you recognize that same bitter smile, as a mother who for sure would tug your ear. Although it doesn’t stop you from glancing at Matt and making sure he can feel your will to bury him alive.

You don’t care if he’s blind or whatever he is, if needed, you would make him see fucking stars.

If, there really is doubt, he can sense all of this. Albeit briefly.

“Sister” you and Matt turn to face the nun, speaking in unison innocently.

“Why don't you guys talk outside, if I'm not mistaken Josie's is already open and it's not too far. I'm sure, hm...” Sister Maggie stares at you, thinking in her next words and exchanging looks with Matt, “I’m sure none of you have had breakfast yet.”

You and Matt stare at each other, completely aware of what Sister Maggie truly meant: Please if you’re going to fight, do it civilly outside God’s sanctuary.

Sincerely? You’d rather take this chance to disappear and get rid of the red vigilante’s presence again. He doesn’t need to be wearing his vigilante’s clothes to be acting as such, as a civilian, he continues to defy your patience.

However, you miss noticing as Matt tilts his head and gives it a thought to the Sister’s words A scheme takes shape inside his mind while the wheels spin behind his unfocused eyes, all hidden by his lenses and from your pointy stare.

“I for sure am” Matt nods, standing his arm in your direction and tapping his cane against the floor, “Could you lead me, doc? I’m afraid I can’t recall the exact directions”

You look at him and his arm, confused. That isn’t the same guy who is fighting criminals and all? What the...

Fucking bitch playing the innocent blind card inside a church.

Matt really must be God’s favorite, he even knows His moves.

"Oh” you force a smile and grit your teeth, cursing all the possible names inside your mind. It isn’t only a bad day for you, it’s a bad week, year, decade... “If it’s God’s will”

Sister Maggie stares daggers at you by easily tasting the irony in your words, but her eyes defy the smile that twitches in her face. Closely, the nun watches you taking her son’s arm and almost dragging him out of there. She sees you mouthing curses at Matt, mentioning him being a shithead and God joking with your face.

On another side, Matt is calm all the way long out of the Church as Maggie can tell. The mysterious vigilante in his civil clothing is calm, smiling and nodding in silence at your words as if ignoring what you’re saying. It’s strange to say how relaxed he is besides someone who clearly wants to pull him under a moving caravan.

She shakes her head, glancing at you exiting the Clinton Church one last time. Huh, vigilantes...

More than ever, you wish you didn’t believe in God and that you were dead. Just to be sure.

“If I knew that saving you meant that I would be haunted by your presence after, I wouldn’t have done it at all”

As both of you approach one of the empty tables at Josie’s, Matt turns his face at you and tilts his head, “You know that you’re lying”

You snort at him, it’s a better option than grabbing his neck and hitting his head against the next table. It’s all about self-control, right?

Josie’s is one of the best bars in town to go to in the morning, afternoon, night, and dawn. And there’s a good reason for that: Josie got two really good lawyers and took a lot of money from her divorce so she could shove in her ex-husband’s face that she could be more successful than him.

And, for now, she is succeeding at this.

There isn’t a single dark corner inside the place. If the sunlight isn’t doing its work, then there are many candle holders lit up to do it themselves. The wooden floor is clean and doesn’t creak, Josie always makes sure that the only thing that it creaks inside her bar is her ex-husband’s guts once he gets inside.

Near the entrance, there is the counter, where some of the usual drunks are already there. But further inside, the tables and the waitresses are passing by each one of them — taking and delivering orders. It’s not so empty and isn’t full of people.

In conclusion, it’s a good place to have fun or peace of mind. They're good people who usually frequent the bar, and are also easy to strike up a conversation with.

However, as you and the man with the dark glasses sit opposite each other, you know that you won’t have any fun or a nice conversation.

“Let’s skip how you drugged me for a whole day, left me in the hospital this morning completely confused after I tried to talk to you, shall we?” Matt mutters under his breath, ironically smiling at you and reaching his hand as he waits for you to shake it.

“First,” you hit his hand, refusing to shake hands like this, “It wasn’t like you gave me a choice, you are a stubborn bastard and it was easy to take care of your wounds when you slept the whole night before, so ‘why not?’ it was what I thought” you shrug as if you had said no absurdity, “Second, can’t you go with your life, I’ll go with mine and the end?”

Matt looks at you, processing what you just said. Which was a lot, so he needs some seconds to understand what you truly mean.

“It needs a stubborn person to recognize another, hm?” he keeps his voice low, resting his cane beside his chair and facing your side, “Besides, I already made it very clear that I want the Serpents to face jail for what they have done and are trying to do, kill won’t resolve anything and you should know that”

“Right, because I’m kind of a catholic myself” you joke it off and roll eyes, fixing your sleeves, “What do you even know about the Serpents to be so sure that they don’t deserve to pay with their lives for everything they did”

“You’re talking about Kingpin” you whisper, taken aback, even If you don’t want to admit it.

“You know who I am, you were very clear yesterday” something about his tone makes you well aware that he doesn’t appreciate the fact of you made him lose the track of time those last two days, “I have been doing these night activities for almost five years and I faced the worst of the worst, so I understand the temptation to take the privilege of their lives, as I understand how that choice consumes and corrupts”

It’s been five months and some days since you came back to town but even you know what the fuss is about Kingpin.

You have read the papers, you are well aware of Kingpin’s criminal schemes and how he kept every gang and organization on a leash. Including the Serpents. Wilson Fisk was keeping the criminals hidden by his shadow while he was trying to control Hell’s Kitchen, corrupting the lawmen, and trying to become the mayor.

However, a lot happened until his downfall. So, you had listed the crucial events in your head:

First, Fisk was exposed by two lawyers from the firm that is now called ‘Nelson, Murdock and Page’, then sent to jail.

Second, the criminal, even though imprisoned, was able to control his subordinates.

Third, he got his way to get out of prison and tried to get public respect back, which didn't work thanks to him being a nasty criminal and having his ass beat back to jail by the Devil.

Since then, Kingpin didn’t control any of the criminals in Hell’s Kitchen. He doesn’t protect them or keep them in their places, not anymore. It’s because of this that you came back and have been hunting the Serpents one by one.

They are by themselves now.

Matt adjusts his lenses and slowly nods, “For a long time, I tried to beat him and, after many losses, I got it. God knows how many times I was tempted to kill him every time that he got away”

“Don't give me this talk about how you went through what I am going through, God knows how many times I've considered punching you in the face since I saw you. Don't make him count one more.” you imitate the man by tilting your head, “Kingpin is dust compared to what the Serpents are when they leash is released”

“One more reason for you not to kill them and let the justice do its job” Matt retorts you and you puff, this comes and goes is already irritating you. Again.

“And what will you do if I kill them?”

Carefully, Matt rests his back in his chair, focusing all his senses on you and only you. Despite your words and your voice being steady and controlled, your heart is erratic. Sniffing the air, briefly, he could smell your fear along with the usual cinnamon and mint scent.

But you aren’t afraid of what he would do. No, you’re afraid of what you said after the ‘if’. And Matt doesn’t guess this based on what you had already said or being acted on since day one, no. He knows because he could hear your conversation with Father Lantom, of course.

Your heartbeat now is very similar to how it was pulsing at the confessional, as well as your breathing and harsh tone.

Matt was hoping to talk with you, get you to talk about it with you, to unburden that fear of yours, and what is your story with the Serpents so you could solve this problem side by side. Since, you know, he is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and you’re the Doctor who most criminals are starting to shiver when thinking about your skills.

However, all that the vigilante finds is the walls you built. It’ll be difficult to break it down.

And God knows how he won’t give up to break all of them, in the same way that other people broke down his walls.

“Morning,” Matt almost jumps out of his chair when his thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a presence beside their table. The man sighs in relief as he recognizes Josie's monotonous tone and her smell of cigarettes and fresh grass, “I never thought that I’d have June and Matt Murdock in the same table on my bar, I had to check out myself. What happened to you, June, for you to need a lawyer?”

June? Matt faces you again, failing to notice that the same confusion is present in your face as you frown.

You do your best to put your boiling thoughts and headaches aside to look at Josie, “You said ‘Matt’, ‘Murdock’ and ‘lawyer’ in the same sentence?”

Matt gulping doesn't pass you by. He has been truly hoping for you to never connect the dots.

“Yes...?” Josie glances at you, puzzled, and returns her eyes at the notepad in her hands, “He is one the attorney of law that mentioned to you, that helped me with the bar. He and his friends now are too snobbish after their last cases to acknowledge one of their first cases anyway”

“Okay, you know that’s not true, Josie” nervous, Matt laughed, rubbing the back of his head, “We usually come here every night and turns your nights in hell by drinking the eel”

“Matt Murdock from ‘Nelson, Murdock & Page” you whisper to yourself, processing what you just heard. But, obviously, someone else listens to you, “Attorney of law, huh”

Of course, he is a lawyer too. The vigilante of Hell’s Kitchen is a catholic and a lawyer... What the actual fuck?

You look at Matt, hoping he can feel God counting one more mark on your scoreboard of times you ever wanted to punch his damn soldier.

When Matt fixes his dark pince-nez and taps at it with a sheepish smile, you roll your eyes.

And blind.

How are you in this mess? This is the price for saving the Devil? Damn, God, you were the one who requested my job.

“So?” Josie cuts the silence by tapping her pencil into her notepad, glancing impatiently at both of you, “You’ll ask nothing?”

You and the fucking attorney of law stare at each other. Well, in fact, Matt has his unfocused gaze on you and your posture while you wish to cut his throat.

“The usual” Murdock is the first to speak, turning his chin to Josie.

“June?” Josie questions you and you give Matt a last glare before turning your attention to the bar owner.

“Bacon and eggs, as usual. And black coffee, you can add whiskey to the coffee too.” you take a deep breath, relaxing against your chair and pointing with your chin to the man in front of you, “He will need it.”

“I don’t drink in the morning” Matt frowns.

“And who told you that you will drink? I'll drink it, not you” you cross your arms and mutters under your breath, “You’ll need it if you don’t want me to rip your jugular”

If Josie heard you, she just laughed at it, finishing to note your requests and leaving you two alone. Probably, mumbling something about how much she likes ‘June Gonzalez’.

“June?”

“Murdock, hm?”

Both of you ask after a beat, both raising a brow to each other.

“Do you know how ironic you’re?” you don’t give the attorney a chance to continue asking you questions, looking up to the ceiling and listening item by item, “You dress as if you’re the advocate’s devil, which is ironic by itself. Catholic by day and, ironic again, the Devil by night. And you do everything blind? No offense but you’re really gonna be surprised by my name after everything I listed?”

Matt snickers by your words, “I could tell you if you told me why you use a fake name”

“It isn’t fake” you lie, pursing your lips, “I just didn’t tell you before because I thought that after sending you to that hospital I’d never see you again”

Lie, again. Matt licks his lips, analyzing you, why do you keep lying about your name?

Isn’t like he already knows due to eavesdropping on your conversation with Father Lantom, but you don’t need to know that.

If you don’t want him to call you by your real name, he won’t.

“Okay, June” he mockingly says your name, “If you want to know about my skills, then you’ll have to at least think about what we talk”

You puff, this man doesn’t give up, “Hell, I don’t know what is worse, you keep going with this discussion or you mention having ‘skills’. If you think I’ll stop to go after the Serpents, don’t hold your breath”

“I am not telling you to stop going after them” Matt shrugs, “I’m telling you to not kill them... And let me help you?”

Okay, that must be a joke.

Right...?

You wait for the moment that he’d tell you that he is kidding, but it never comes.

“No way” you shake your head, bewildered, “What do you even know about them? What does any person with two working brain cells know? Please”

“Well, I’m aware you know a lot about them from the time you’ve been following their track but do you have any information about where they might be now?” the red vigilante asks you, resting his elbows on the table. And, not for his surprise, you keep in silence and doesn’t even dare to lie, “I do”

“Huh,” you huff, already seeing where he is going with this, what a bastard, “If you think I’ll make a deal with you so we can work as vigilante colleagues with this information and so you can keep me from killing them, you’re so wrong. I can find information by myself, you know?”

“Yeah, I thought that you’d say this” he smiles and you don’t like the way he easily turns his lips up, “And what I shame I took the information from this guy who went to jail not long after and was judged to be hanged... Last night”

You open your mouth, in shock. But you try to not lose your posture, nervously giggling, “I can find his name and track his criminals’ connections, see if one of his friends have the same information”

“They don’t have” Matt shakes his head, his smug smile never leaving his face, “I sent all of them to jail before I did the same with him”

Fuck.

You rub your temples, fuck, fuck, fuck-

The Serpents is a difficult group to be tracked down, you’ve been trying to find them for months. Every time you had information and went to the supposed place where they were, they were already gone. Their scientists never stopped in one place for a long time and to find the other member of the gang, you need to get to the scientists, you know that.

You got lucky Friday but it would be hard to get this lucky again.

Go to hell, God. You must really hate me.

"And I suppose that in exchange for this information, comes your little help and the Exodus 20:13″ you bit your tongue, rolling up your shirt sleeves, troubled.

“For sure” Matt nods, collected.

You don’t believe in what you’re about to do. What did you have to be so selfless sometimes? Damn, you’d be in a better situation if you didn’t have to save him.

Because you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night. In something, Father Lantom was right, but just about this.

“What do we say?” The attorney question, you can see his unfocused brown eyes at you as his lenses slip to the tip of his nose, “Deal?”

One more time, he reaches his hand to you.

And, for a second, you listen to a familiar voice inside your head as a memory passes quickly.

A hand on your shoulder. A bright smile. A cross hanging from his neck as he looks down at you. “And please, do not do any deals with the Devil in the corner while I’m out”

“Huh, sure” you and the younger you from your memory speak in unison as you shake Matt’s hand, “Information, the Devil, and ‘I shall not murder’. Why not?”

Matt hides the disappointment in his face when he relistens to your words. You lied about the last part. You’ll try to find a way to kill the Serpents, at least, the ones who have done you some wrong, or to people you know or knew.

He sighs, withdrawing his hand. That’s okay, he thinks, as he said before: you’re stubborn as much as he is as well.

You force a smile at him, resting your hands on the table. Part of you knows that the Devil will try to stop you once you aim for the head of one of them.

But, that’s okay, you’ll find a way.

You’re both okay.

In a blink of an eye, what you requested from Josie arrives at your table. Different from before, one of Josie’s waitresses is who serves you.

In front of you, a plate with your bacon and eggs along with your coffee with a little pick-it-up is placed. You raise your eyes to what is placed in front of your new associate: a sandwich with turkey, swiss cheese, bacon, mustard mayo, lettuce, tomato, and avocado.

Very specific, you notice.

As the waitress leaves you and the lawyer alone, you drink your coffee in one gulp, feeling the bottom of the alcohol and the bitterness of the coffee tear your throat.

“So, attorney” you face the Devil, forcing a smile, “Use that flannel mouth of yours and spill this information of your”

“Sure” he hums with himself, holding his sandwich and before giving it his first bite, Matt says, “What do you know about Baron Zemo?”

Taglist: @waspswidows @druigswitch @underoos-shield @simpforbuckyb (if you want to be tag let me know! send me an ask and I’ll add you!!)

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil reader insert #daredevil au #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock reader insert #marvel au #marvel x reader #everybody knows the devil fic

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