#ben poindexter

[amberlynnmurdock]

All Mine

Pairing: Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x Reader

Summary: Dex initially declines going out with you and your friends, but when he starts thinking of scenarios of men trying to flirt with you, he somehow finds himself in the bar to make sure that doesn't happen.

Genres: Angst

Warnings: 18+ content, SMUT, possessive!Dex, jealous!Dex, and I guess toxic!Dex? LOL just be prepared bc this might be the wildest fic ive written

ALSO shoutout to @mayajadewrites for helping me with getting the plot going, you GENIUS <3

Notes: I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS ONE let me know what you think! Enjoy! <3

When he sent his reply to you, Dex stood quietly on his balcony, thinking of ways he could take it back. 

“Thanks for the invite,” he typed regretfully, his anxiety getting the better of him, “but I think I’ll pass for tonight.”

“Are you sure?” He read your text in your sweet voice. “I want to see you.”

He knows you want to see him—he wants to see you just as badly, but the thought of socializing with people other than you was a less-than-ideal situation for Dex. He only preferred to be around you and only you. Part of him didn’t want to share you with other people, the other part simply didn’t want to be around them. 

“Next time,” Dex lied, a pinch in his heart. “I promise.” 

He waits five minutes, and then ten minutes, and when twenty minutes pass by, he knows the conversation ends there. Dex slides the door open and reenters his apartment, sitting quietly at his kitchen table, phone in front of him. 

Scenarios start playing in his mind: you’re only going out with your friends. He’s met some of them and doesn’t care for them at all, but at least he knows you’ll be with them and only them. What bar did you say you were going to? The Black Dog? It slowly dawns on him that other people you don’t know will be around you too, and it bothers him that he can’t control every action of every person. What if some guy tried talking to you? Offered to buy you a drink? Flirted with you? Or worse, what if you liked it enough to never talk to Dex again?

He can’t imagine another guy having good intentions like Dex has good intentions with you. Dex wants to keep you safe from people like that, people he doesn’t know. People who may have ill intentions for their own selfish needs. 

And how can he make sure that you’re safe from people like that, sitting alone in his apartment here, away from you? 

If there’s one thing that will get him out the apartment, it’s the thought of someone trying to take away his North Star from him. 

◎◎◎

Dex arrives at the bar before you do. He’s in his denim jacket and baseball cap. After quickly ordering a club soda from the bartender, he makes his way to the back and chooses a quiet corner to sulk in, to hide, to watch from afar. It’s what he’s most comfortable doing, it’s what he does best. 

He doesn’t touch the club soda at all, bubbles wasting their air in the glass. He watches the people that are in the bar with disdain. They’re all fools, he thinks to himself, but which one will be the unlucky one who tries to talk to you?

The next time the door opens, you walk in first followed by your friends and Dex sinks deeper in his seat, tilts his head down so his cap is hiding his face. He watches you from underneath, bringing the glass of club soda closer to him. His heart may be hard but his eyes go soft every time he looks at you. You’re laughing with your friends, and you look beautiful in your black sweater and jeans. You and your friends find a table in the middle of the bar and that’s when Dex takes note of the people that surround you.

Right now, no one’s paying mind to your table except for him. He smiles to himself each time he sees you laugh—tries to share in the moment with you even though you don’t know he’s there. He wonders what you whisper to your friend at one point. Whatever it is, your friend laughs and hits your shoulder. You have a glass of Sauvignon Blanc in front of you—Dex knows it’s the only white wine you’ll drink—and when you finish it, you look around for your server. 

The bar is much more crowded now and Dex has to move down a seat or two to keep his sights on you. He takes a deep breath and looks down when he sees you get up from your seat to go to the bar. When your back is to him, he looks up and watches as you patiently wait for a bartender’s attention. 

There are plenty of people at the bar, so many that not everyone is sitting on a stool. People squeeze in, lean on the counter, and move chairs out to fit more of their friends into conversations. You’re leaning with your left elbow on the bar, and Dex watches as you wait. Someone behind you accidentally pushes you, and both you and Dex react at the same time. You, startled from the contact, and Dex, sitting up more straight in his seat. He relaxes his shoulders after a few moments when he sees the person scoot their chair away from you, and you seemingly unbothered. 

You glance at your phone, scroll through something, and lock it again before putting it in your back pocket. Dex wonders if you re-read your messages like he does. He hopes so. You sigh, looking around the bar again—you weren’t having any luck getting a bartender’s attention.

And like a cloudy night ruining his view of his North Star, a man in a black jacket and boots stands directly in front of you. He’s got dark hair and a 5 o’clock shadow. Dex straightens in his seat again, high on alert. The man walks by you slowly in a calculative way. He doesn’t go unnoticed on Dex’s radar, not when he’s so close to you. The man walks by and inserts himself between a group, about five people away from you.

Dex feels his muscles tighten and he grips his glass of club soda hard. He has to let go of it so his entire focus is on the scene before him. Good thing he decided to come tonight—he knew this would happen. Dex watches you and then watches the man watching you. He doesn’t like how focused he is on you, how bad of an actor he is when he pretends to look around the bar just to look at you again. Dex takes a deep breath as he sees him slowly weave his way between people to stand next to you. He’s got something in his back pocket he keeps fiddling with. 

You’re oblivious, minding your business, waiting patiently for the bartender. At least Dex is there to protect you if anything were to go awry. He couldn’t have anything happen to you—the mere thought of it made him nauseous, losing someone so important to him, again. 

The man daringly asks the people who are standing next to you to move so he can have their spot. Dex’s throat goes dry as he sees the man brush his shoulder against yours purposefully. You glance up and move as much as you can, but the man moves closer to you again.

“Sorry, crowded bar,” the man says to you. At first glance, he’s handsome, but there’s something aggressive about his nature. 

“It’s alright,” you say shrugging your shoulders. You pretend to check your phone for something.

“You come here alone?” He asks you.

“No, I’m with my friends,” you smile, gesturing your head in their direction. 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you.”

“Really? You’re the first girl who’s ever turned down a free drink at a bar,” the man says, confused by your rejection. Perhaps even a little insulted. 

“I bet I’m not the first girl who’s rejected you point blank, though,” you say, hoping he gets the message. He’s taken aback by your words, and he doesn’t stop there.

“Bet you just haven’t had a guy like me dick you down to make you nicer.”

Dex doesn’t know what the conversation is, but from your body language and expression on your face, he knows it can’t be good. Whatever it was this man was saying to you, it was diminishing your light—his light—it was an attempt to take his North Star away. Dex stands up from his seat. 

It’s not until the man places his hand on your shoulder and then your neck that Dex feels his rage and jealousy course through his veins, so much so that it’s made him finally get up from his seat and walk straight toward you. The path to what was unfolding in front of him was like walking through a dark tunnel, and like a phantom appearing out of thin air, Dex walks up to the man, paying no mind to you, takes him by the collar of his cheap jacket and pushes him away from you.  

“Stay away from her,” Dex says in a cool tone, chest heaving, hands shaking from adrenaline. 

The man walks right up to Dex, and it’s comical that he thinks he even stands a chance. Dex glances around, the things around him becoming all too obvious. A napkin dispenser. A shot glass. A butter knife. They’re all too easy. 

“Dex,” he hears you call his name, and now there’s too many people looking at them, and the man in front of him is anticipating his next moves and for nothing because just as quickly as Dex made himself known, he’s out of the bar pushing past everyone and walking down the street. Away from those people. Away from you. He hears the door open behind him, unsure if it’s you or not. 

He couldn’t even look at you—ashamed of his actions, ashamed he let you see him like that, which wasn’t even his worse but damn near close to it. He’s leaning forward against a brick wall, catching his breath from the adrenaline of seeing you being touched by another man, trying not to black out from his rage. But you’re right behind him, shocked he was there to save you. What Dex wasn’t expecting were your arms snaking around his waist, resting your head against his back. 

Was it possible you weren’t mad at him for being like that?

“No one’s ever been protective of me like you,” you sigh against his back. Dex is shaking from the adrenaline but he finds it in him to stop and focus on your arms around him. He places his hands on yours and sighs. “Guess you decided to come after all?” You ask him. “I didn’t even see you walk in, but what hell of a timing that was.”

“It was timing,” Dex agrees with you and lies. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Look at me, Dex,” you say gently. Dex turns around in your arms and you reach up to take off his baseball cap to see his face. “Thank you.”

There’s something in his eyes you can’t read but you agree when he asks to go back to his place.

◎◎◎

“You know, if you wanted to hang just the two of us, you could’ve said so,” you say as you walk inside his apartment and throw your jacket on his couch. Dex turns around and locks the door, feeling calmer than he did before but still on edge. He places his baseball cap on the counter and hangs up his jean jacket. 

“I didn’t want to ruin your night with your friends.”

“It was sort of ruined anyway, but somehow got even better now that I’m here,” you smile. “Seriously, it’s crazy you were there in the nick of time.”

“Yeah,” Dex trails off. “I know.”

“You still seem on edge,” you say softly, “are you okay?”

Dex looks away from you and places both his fists on his hips. He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I’m not.”

“Why?”

“I—.” How does he say it, without saying it? That he nearly wanted to kill a man for touching you? He almost lost it in front of you and almost lost you?

“I couldn’t stand seeing someone touching you like that,” Dex explains. “I can’t get it out of my head.” 

“Try not to think about it,” you whispered and placed your hand on his face. Now Dex met your eyes. “Focus on me.”

It wasn’t until now he realized he was still shaking from the adrenaline. He never got it out before—the anger and jealousy were still bottled inside, running through his veins with no relief, because seeing you being touched like that by some man triggered something in Dex so strong that not even acting violently could calm him down. It festered in his chest like a sickness that could only be cured by your reassurance, your touch, your presence. 

And here you were in front of him, doing and giving him all of that. It’s what made it so easy for Dex to come to his conclusion that you were, in fact, all his—every part of you, everything, you were his alone. No one else ever had this effect on him the way you do. 

“I just want you to be safe with me,” Dex said, “only me.”

You smiled, even if you didn’t know the depths of his words. They came off to you as sweet nothings but to him it was law. It was no other way. It was unchangeable. 

“You’re mine,” Dex said in a guttural voice, his eyes half moons as he looked at you, “all mine.” His anger and jealousy started to shift into something else the more he looked at you. The more you absorbed his words and listened to him. He knew he had your full attention and he wanted more. The pit of this started beneath the button of his jeans. It was deeper than his heart. 

“Make it so,” you squint your eyes in return, succumbing to his intense gaze. 

Dex placed both his hands on your arms and traced the length of you slowly. You took a step closer to him so your chest was touching his. 

“I control myself so well around you,” Dex says in a low voice, “but right now I don’t want to.”

“So don’t,” you smirk, running your lips lightly against his. 

Dex swallows hard before his fingers find the hem of your sweater and pull it over your head. You stand in front of him in nothing but your jeans and bra and to Dex, it’s still not enough.  Dex runs his fingertips on your sides and slides his hand to your back, swiftly unclasping your bra. You shiver against his touch which is all too sweet.

“Dex,” you say in a low voice, “so don’t.” You repeated what you said before, hoping he got your message. 

Dex lifts an eyebrow and takes a deep breath, his dark eyes looking you up and down before relying purely on instinct. Dex lifts you up into his arms and you wrap your legs around him as he carries you to his bedroom and gently throws you on his bed. You land on your back and spread yourself on his fitted sheets, sheets he knows will be in ruins when he’s had you how wants. 

“I’m the only one who can see you like this,” Dex says. He takes his shirt off and reaches down to unbutton your jeans, slowly sliding them off your legs. You’re shaking. You nod at his words, whatever he says, that’s okay. 

Dex leans over you, his dirty blonde hair pushed to one side, his dark eyes looking at every inch of your skin. You don’t feel self-conscious, you feel seen. Dex kisses your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, and soon he’s peppering kisses between your breasts and down the length of your torso before he kisses the part you’re aching for. 

“I’m the only one who can touch you like this,” Dex says softly as he looks up at you from below. He places his hands on either of your thighs and spreads you open, so he’s face to face with your wetness. “And this,” he says, placing a thumb on your clit and putting not enough pressure on it, “is mine.”

“Okay,” you nod and close your eyes. Dex takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours while he kisses your sex and drags his tongue slowly over your folds. You press your head deeper in his mattress and take a long, deep breath. Dex begins to lap at your folds, licking you slowly and then faster, and when he gently wraps his lips on top of your clit and begins to suck on your sensitive bud, you let out a soft moan. 

“I’m the only one who can make you sound like that,” Dex looks up momentarily before he continues eating you out. He looks up at you with his mouth on your clit and closes his eyes again. He keeps licking up your wetness and feels his cock harden in his jeans, aching to replace his mouth with it. But not yet. 

“Dex,” you beg softly, “kiss me.”

Dex stops licking you up and moves up on his bed to be face to face with you. His lips are shiny from your wetness, but you don’t care. Dex slowly leans down and touches his lips to yours. You hold his face in your hands and hold him there for a few moments, opening your mouth to let his tongue in, you taste yourself on his lips. Dex deepens the kiss and you wrap your legs around him again. He places his hands under your back and lifts you, urging you to lay on your chest. You rest your head on his pillow and listen as he unzips his pants and throws them off.

  He puts his hands on your waist and lifts you so your ass is up. Dex spreads your legs and slowly slides in two fingers inside your pussy.

“So wet,” Dex whispers, “just for me.” He continues sliding his fingers in and out of your pussy. He pushes your hand to the side and leans down to kiss you in the crook of your neck. It sends butterflies to your sides, the feeling of his soft lips kissing you sweetly. And the sweetness is gone when you feel Dex’s cock slowly enter inside you.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “Dex.”

“Say my name,” he whispers in a low voice in your ear.

“Dex,” you moan again as he begins to rock his cock back and forth inside of you slowly, feeling your tightness wrap around him. Dex’s arms are on either side of your head, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck. He fastens his pace thrusting inside you, feeling you move against him. You feel so wet and so tight around him, he bites your shoulder softly and says your name. 

“You’re taking me so well,” Dex whispers, “You’ll always be mine.”

“Yeah,” you moan, “you feel so good, Dex.”

“Fuck,” he lets a curse slip out as the more he thrusts his cock inside you the more wet you feel. “Taking me so well,” he says in a deep voice. 

“I’m so close, Dex,” you moan, and when you say this, Dex completely pulls out and you feel the absence of his size, absence of his closeness. Dex doesn’t want to finish with your face away from him. He wants to look into your eyes, see your face as his cock brings you to orgasm. Gone was the dominance, the real Dex wanted this to be special. 

He flips you over onto your back and spreads your legs and wraps them around his waist. Before he enters you again, Dex is breathing heavily, and he reaches up his fingers to caress the side of your face. Your lips are parted—you’re out of breath too—and the gravity of tonight’s earlier situation hits him. He never wants you to feel unsafe again. The only way that can happen is if Dex is in your life.

“You mean a lot to me,” Dex says, and it really is the closet thing he can say to those three dating little words. You smile at him, place your own hand on his face too. You don’t need to say anything. He knows you feel the same. And Dex slowly pushes himself inside your pussy again, feeling your tightness clench him and his size fill you up perfectly. Your face contorts with pleasure and you breath a heavy sigh. The tip of his cock hits your sweet spot each time he thrusts inside you. “You’re mine,” Dex says again as he picks up his pace. 

“Oh, Dex,” you pull him even closer as he continues pounding you into orgasm. Dex's eyes are dark as he holds this intense gaze with you, watching you orgasm like his life depended on it. Your so tight and went around him, when you finally come down from orgasm, Dex finally lets himself reach his own climax. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Dex’s own face contorts and it’s the sexiest you’ve ever seen him, coming so undone like this. He spills his cum inside you on his final thrust and feels his seed fill you up. You feel him spurt deeply and it feels euphoric to feel all of him inside you like this. 

If your relationship wasn’t clear before, it sure was now. You belonged to Dex and he you. As much as you were his, he was all yours. 

#wow #that was wild #LOL #dex #bullseye #wilson bethel #ben poindexter #benjamin poindexter #ben poindexter x reader #ben poindexter smut #benjamin poindexter x reader #benjamin poindexter smut #mcu #daredevil #daredevil born again #daredevil: born again #all mine

[daredevil-artwork]

Daredevil, Bullseye & Kingpin by Khoi Pham

#Khoi Pham #matt murdock #kingpin #Wilson fisk #bullseye #ben poindexter #daredevil #marvel #art #artwork #marvel comics #marvel universe #marvel superheroes #the devil of hell's kitchen #the man without fear

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

The devil in disguise

Matt Murdock x fem!Reader

summary || You are the sweet innocent daughter of Wilson Fisk who has fallen in love with Matt Murdock. Unaware of their private lives, you introduce them.

word count || 2.7k

warnings || nothing really, just a bit angsty. brief mention of violence & blood

a/n || hii, I hope you all enjoy this. I spent a very long time writing and rewriting it. I don’t want to sound like a beg, but Id be very thankful if you gave feedback. this is based on a request. much love💌

masterlist + rules

taglist

Being an artist in New York was a tough job, a city where everyone wanted the same thing- opportunity. In the beginning, you had a bit of a tough run with selling your pieces, you wanted people to buy them because they loved your art and not because of the connections to your well-known father. You loved your dad, but you wanted to do this on your own. You wanted your gallery to be something that you made, not your father.

So after a couple of years, spending hundreds of hours curating your artwork, you were finally able to display them in a mini store that you converted into a gallery.

You have only been open one day and things were already flying off the shelves, selling your most loved artwork for thousands of dollars apiece.

Today, your boyfriend of six months, will finally be meeting your dad at your gallery. You wanted to share this special time with the two people that meant the most to you. Unlocking the doors, your arm linked into Matt’s, leading him through the shop of your most prized work.

“Pass your hand.” You say sweetly, taking his hand in yours. Laying it flat against the canvas on the wall, directing his hand to brush along the mixed media. “You inspired me for this one.” You smile. “If you feel here. There’s a message… I indented the canvas to make braille, and if I got it right… it should say something.” Watching the way his lips turned into a smile.

The bell rings at the door, immediately diverting your attention. “Hello princess.” Your dad greets you, pulling you in for a hug.

“Hi.” You smile, pulling apart to introduce your boyfriend who was looking around uneasily. “Dad, this is Matt, Matt, this is my dad.” You sweetly grin, looking between them with gleaming eyes.

“Pleasure.” He greets your boyfriend, firmly shaking Matt’s hand.

“Good to meet you, sir.” Matt smiles forcefully.

Excitedly screeching, gazing between the two. “Okay- I can’t wait anymore, let me show you around.” Grabbing Matt’s hand to lead him. “Dad follow me.”

You showed them throughout the whole gallery, talking endlessly about the inspiration behind each piece of work, chatting their ears off about every detail.

“Excuse me one moment.” Your dad announces, walking into the back room to answer his phone call.

Matt inconspicuously pulls you aside now that it was just the two of you. “You never told me his name…” Matt quietly asks.

“Oh my goodness- sorry, I completely forgot. It’s Wilson. Sorry, that must’ve been really uncomfortable.” You apologise, placing a sweet kiss on Matt’s now tense cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah- I’m fine. Just you know, meeting your dad.” He partially lies.

“I’m sorry princess, I’ve got to go.” Wilson enters the room, glancing between you and Matt with questioning eyes. His stare penetrated the side of Matt’s face.

“Dad?” You warned, disguising it with a cough. Noticing the way he was looking at Matt.

“Right. I’ll see you soon.” He kisses your cheek before leaving. “If you hurt my little girl…” he turns around to warn, focusing in on your perturbed boyfriend.

-

Matt has been uneasy around you ever since the day at the gallery a few days ago. You thought it was because your dad frightened him with that scolding, but you didn’t know if it was just that or if there was something else to it. You haven’t seen him since then either, he avoided all your texts and calls, replying hours later with ‘sorry, I was on a case’ or ‘I couldn’t find my phone.’

You had spent the day at your gallery doing inventory and rearranging pieces, quietly enjoying the day to yourself. Taking a seat on the sofa by the wide glass window, zoning out as you gaze at the busy city. Aimlessly scanning around until you notice something out the corner of your eye. It was a car you had seen dozens of times over the last couple of months. You tried not to look at it for too long, never wanting the person inside to acknowledge your awareness.

You picked up an art magazine from the coffee table, opening it and raising it to your face. Peeking your eyes over the top to get a better look at the number plate, and to no surprise, it was the same one you had been seeing everywhere.

Startling yourself when the door opens, the bell ringing obnoxiously. Dropping the magazine, you see your father by the entrance with a solemn expression.

“You okay?” You ask nervously, walking over to him.

“I have some news.” He frowns, gesturing for you to take a seat.

“What is it? You’re scaring me.” Scanning your dad's face for answers.

“I don’t want you to hate me...”

“I won’t, what’s up, tell me.” You push once more.

“I did some digging…” Wilson trails off.

“Yeah?”

“Your boyfriend…”

“What about him?” You snap, desperately needing answers.

“I’m afraid he’s not someone you should trust…Here…” Pulling out his phone to show you a clip.

Staring at the video confused. “I don’t get it- what is it?” Darting your eyes between him and the screen.

“That’s… Daredevil.”

“Yeah, so?”

“That’s your boyfriend…” he says slowly. Masking his lies.

“No, it’s not.” Shaking your head.

“It is. ‘The devil of Hell’s Kitchen’ or whatever he calls himself. He’s a vigilante… and he’s dangerous… he…” he starts.

“‘He’ what?”

“It’s too much...” He closes his eyes, avoiding your surveying gaze.

“Please just tell me.” You plead.

“He… killed your mother.” Intensely staring at the floor.

“What-? Why are you telling me this?” Walking away in disbelief, pacing around. “Why would you say that?”

“There are more videos.” Extending his phone.

“No! I don’t want to see it. How can he do that? Seriously, how? He’s blind.” You defend.

“He was lying about that… it was a cover.”

“Let me see the video.” You demand, snatching the phone from his hand.

Anxiously fiddling with the hem of your dress as you watched the clip of your boyfriend in the red suit. You couldn’t believe your eyes- you didn’t want to believe them.

“I’ve seen enough.” Sliding the phone along the coffee table.

“I’m sorry. I’ll get out of the way.” He frowns, sitting up and leaving without a single look back.

-

You had decided to close the shop early, feeling too confused to want to be anywhere but home. Right now you wanted nothing more than to slump into the couch and watch shitty tv with a big bag of chips.

When you return to your apartment building, panic settles in when you notice the car again. Unlocking the door with shaky hands, trying your best to keep them still.

“Allow me.” A male voice says from behind. Immediately shuddering and dropping the keys.

“I’m sorry.” Turning around to look at the man. “Just a long day.”

“I’m sorry, that must’ve been really hard.”

“Yeah.” You exhale, disguising it in a laugh. “Thanks” taking the keys from his hand. “Do you- uh, live around here?” You ask, anxiously looking around.

“No, I was here to see a friend. But I saw you struggling so had to help.” He smiles. “And you are…?”

Telling him your name with a friendly smile.

“I’m Dex.” Shaking your hand. “Good to meet you… I’ll uh- see you around.”

—

After a long hot bath and take-out dinner, you lump yourself onto the couch. Pulling out your phone to see numerous missed calls from Matt. Deciding not to engage, you place it aside.

Frantic knocks pound at your door that startle you upright. Quietly walking over, peeking through the peephole to see Matt anxiously pacing around.

“What?” You snap, whipping the door open.

“I came to see you… you wouldn’t answer my calls.” He gushes, smiling apologetically.

“Not so nice is it?” You say snidely.

“No-“

You cut him off. “I’m not in the mood right now. What do you want?”

“You scared me- you didn’t answer, I thought something bad had happened-” He continues, catching his breath.

Interrupting him again. “Are you actually blind?”

He flashes a confused look, head tilting to the side as if to understand you better. “Yes. Why would you ask that?”

“Wait a second- how did you get here?” You ask, finally putting the pieces together. “If you can’t see… then how did you run here?” You question with a stern whisper, not wanting your neighbours to hear.

“Can I come in?” He asks, avoiding your question.

“No, you can answer from out there.” Placing your hands over his chest to stop him from coming any further.

“What’s going on?” He questions, his face looking puzzled.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“… I don’t know.”

“Who are you?”

His mouth opens but no words are made, gazing at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?” He snarks, walking past you and into your apartment.

“I didn’t say you can come in.” Forcefully closing the door to follow Matt into your living room.

“Where’s this coming from?” He sadly questions, taking a polite seat on your armchair.

“I saw my dad today…” you start.

He gives you a nod to tell you he’s listening.

“He told me something and… I don’t know.” Burying your head in your hands.

“What’s wrong?” He asks sweetly, rushing over to the seat next to you to console you. Gently stroking over your back.

“Please just tell me who you are.” You quietly ask, your words muffling against your palms.

He deeply sighs, brushing his spare hand through his hair. “I think you know...”

Your back stiffens and your neck twists around to stare holes into Matt’s closed eyes. “You’re ‘him’? You’re Daredevil?” You speak quietly as if to soften the blow. “He was right.” You mumble to yourself.

“Who was right?” He questions.

“My dad- he showed me a video… you’re the devil of Hell’s Kitchen? You killed my mom?” You ask, almost rhetorically.

“Wait a sec-“ he interjects. “I don’t kill anyone.” Shaking his head.

“So you are him?”

“Yeah- but that’s not me.” His face grimaces at the thought. “That’s why I’ve been busy…”

“What do you mean?” You ask warmly as if the haze was clearing and you could finally see a few pieces to the puzzle.

“Your dad… he showed you the clip?”

“Mhm.” You mumble, listening intently.

“Was the person in the suit wearing red?”

“Yeah, like a- like a dark red.” Ears pulling back with intrigue.

“I know this might not make any sense right now, but I need you to understand… I don’t wear that red suit anymore- not after midland circle. That person… he isn’t me.” His face looks as though he’s thinking. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” You reply instantly, not once giving it a second thought because it was the truth.

“I think your dad is framing me.”

“Why?”

“I think he knows who I am, and is setting me up.” Placing a gentle hand on your knee.

“Why would he do that?” You question.

“Because he’s not just a businessman.” He says, almost as if he’s regretting it already. Not wanting to ruin your perception of your father.

“What is he?” Searching his face for more answers.

“I can’t do that to you.” He says sadly, stroking your confused face. “Just… in your phone, type in ‘Kingpin, Hell’s Kitchen’.”

Immediately opening your phone, typing into the search engine, instantly overwhelmed by the dozens of articles. Clicking the top one, reading through an article from the New York Bulletin. Your eyes darting over the words, as your heart thumps in your chest.

Matt laces his hand into yours, stroking his thumb over your skin to calm you down.

“My dads a crimelord?” You question in almost disbelief.

“I’m sorry.” He emphatically comforts, hating the idea of you feeling betrayed by your father.

“How did you know?”

“I’ve been after him for years…“

“Is that why you’re with me?” You sadly ask, already thinking the worst.

“No.” He gushes, cupping your cheek. “God, no. I only found out at your gallery the other day.” He reassures, sweetly brushing over your cheek. “Please come and stay with me for a few days. I don’t think it’s safe here…”

“Can I ask you something?” You almost whisper. Mind is racing and struggling to keep up with everything that’s happened over the last few hours.

“Of course, anything.” Gently placing a stray strand of hair behind your ear and then cupping your jaw.

“If you’re daredevil- the real one… are you really blind? Or is that a cover?”

“I am blind, I lost my sight when I was nine.”

“You can say no, of course. But, I don’t think you’ve actually told me how you lost it. I don’t want to push you, and you can stop me from talking because I feel like I’m blabbering-“

Sweetly smiling at the way you were so considerate with your delivery. “No no, it’s okay.” He interrupts.

Matt thought it was finally time to give you a look into his past, telling you every minor and major event that has happened in his life. Stories about his dad, St Agnes, Maggie, his abilities, what he does as Daredevil, and even about Fisk.

-

Matt was waiting patiently on the couch while you finished packing your bags; throwing in anything and everything you might need over the next few days.

“I’m ready.” You smile, lugging your bags by the front door.

“You left a light on in there.” Nodding to your en-suite.

Rushing to the bathroom to flick the switch, returning with a grin. “That is amazing.”

Flashing you a wide grin in response, collecting the heaviest bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

When you exit the building, you do a quick look around the street, quickly observing everything. Across the road you spot the car again, squinting your eyes to double-check the number plate. Matt doesn’t know about your potential stalker, to be honest, you didn’t want to worry him. But now you know he’s capable, you decide to finally tell him.

Discreetly covering your mouth to hide what you were about to say. “Matt.” You whisper. “That car… I see it all the time.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, barely moving his lips as he purposely twisted his head to look around.

“I think it’s been following me.”

His face grows stern and rigid, looking as though he’s calculating the situation. Placing your bags to the floor, taking a step onto the sidewalk. Immediately grabbing his arm to stop him from walking any further.

“No- don’t go over.” You plead, trying your hardest to stop him freeing from your grip.

“Wait there.” He sweetly instructs, shaking himself from your grasp.

“No, I’m coming with you.” Chasing after him.

Matt pulls out his stick, tapping it against the ground as he walked down the street, looking around aimlessly until he ‘accidentally’ bumps into the car. The person inside slides down the window “watch it, man.”

“My apologies, I don’t suppose you know the way to Josie’s bar. It’s just… you know.” Raising his arm to show the man his cane.

Watching from the side, you see a familiar man in the wing mirror. Immediately walking over, following after your legs that had a mind of their own.

“Dex?” You question, head tilting to the side in confusion.

He coughs, lowering his cap to hide his face. Stammering on his words.

Matt’s ears pull back in concentration, listening intently. Reaching his hand inside the car, gripping Dex’s neck and yanking him towards the window. Hitting his head with his free hand, as he pulled him through the window and out of the car. “Who are you?” He demands, landing another strike to his face. Instead, he doesn’t do anything, he just tauntingly laughs, purposely trying to provoke Matt.

“Enough.” You shout, pulling Matt off Dex who was laughing hysterically on the floor, blood dripping from his cheek.

“What the fuck was that about?” You grit, ushering him away.

“That’s Special Agent Poindexter.” He starts. Straighten his tie and adjusting his glasses, linking his arm into yours, acting nonchalant.

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” You whisper shout, quickly looking over your shoulder check on Dex who was splayed out on the sidewalk.

“Fisk hired him. If I’m right, and I’m sure I am… he’s pretending to be me.” Leading you across the street, and back to your apartment building.

“Wait a second…” letting go of Matt’s arm and halting in your tracks.

“That video my dad showed me… it was a CCTV clip…” pausing as if to complete your thought. “It was outside of my mom’s house… and…” face contorting at the idea. “He had my mom killed?”

sorry for the cliffhanger!! I wasn’t sure how to end this and was hoping that some of you guys could maybe give some ideas. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with Fisk and Dex, and how Matt would work into it. but if you have any ideas I’d love to hear them. I will be doing a part 2, just need some help from you angels first

I think it’s because I’ve been working on this so long my mind has turned to mush😭

but thank you for reading, hope you liked it🤍

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock #matthew murdock x reader #matt my beloved #matt murdock imagine #matthew murdock fanfiction #matthew murdock x you #wilson fisk #ben poindexter #bullseye #daredevil #daredevil x reader #marvel fan fiction

[valjeanzachary]

Tfw your northstar is missing

#digital art #drawing #procreate #illustration #benjamin poindexter #ben poindexter #daredevil #bullseye #marvel #wilson bethel #illust #rkgk

[mordredisacoolname]

How the daredevil characters would top a gn reader? (Or at least the ones you think would top anyway)

Thank you for requesting! I really hope you enjoy

DAREDEVIL CHARACTERS (MEN) TOPING YOU

GN READER

Characters: Matt Foggy Frank Wesley Dex Ray

CW: N/SFW, smut

MATT- I think Matt will be a soft top. He likes sitting on a couch with you on top of him. Will touch every inch of your body, kissing and biting. Guiding you and talking you through it. Further into the relationship he'll be willing to be more dominant and aggressive, nothing too much as he doesn't want to hurt you, but not so soft either. I can also see him as a sub top, only if you want it, after long days. He just wants to lose control and be taken care of. Will probably cum before you as he's super sensitive but will not stop until you're satisfied.

FOGGY- very goofy, cracks jokes all the time. But is also very intense and intimate. Kisses you pationetely, holding your face in his arms and feeling you up. Starts with slow but hard thrusts and becomes quicker. Will not cum before you.

FRANK- honestly, he's a very romantic man. If you're in a relationship he'll be super careful with you and will spend at least half an hour before entering you, Kissing and feeling you all over. If you're just a one night stand or if you ask him and he's in the mood he'll be aggressive and fuck you till you can't walk. Will not do anything too risky tho, nothing that can harm you. Always cums after you, unless you're giving him a blowjob. Hard and deep thrusts, a lot of grunts and "fuck"s.

WESLEY- oh he's a sub top alright. Likes when you ride him, watching you bouns on him, making pleasant noises and faces. When he's close he'll flip you around and pound into you until you both cum. Likes dirty talk A LOT. Aggressive, likes when you RIDE him, making the bed squick.

DEX- he's either a very submissive top or a very dominant top. I can honestly see him as a bottom but when he's topping there's no in between. Really depends on his mood. If he's doming he'll have no mercy on you, you'll have to agree on a safe word so he known when to stop. Slaps, hair pulling, bites, choking. He's extreme. Honestly can see him being kinda selfish and if he's not in the mood he'll not continue after he finishes and will leave you unsatisfied. If he's being a sub he will want you to ride him senseless, grabbing his shoulders and making a lot of noises.

RAY- he's such a tease. Will literally edge you for hours and laugh about it. But will not cum until you do, he want to pleasure you and puts you before himself. Definition of heart eyes. He thinks you're so beautiful. Seeing you is such a vulnerable position, and so high on pleasure turns him on so much. Wants to look at your face while fucking you to see the good job he's doing. Kind of praise words, calling you good __ (whatever you prefer), telling you how good you're doing.

#gn reader #x gn reader #gn reader insert #male reader #daredevil #matt murdock #foggy nelson #frank castle #the punisher #james wesley #ben poindexter #bullseye #rahul nadeem #ray nadeem

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 3176 (chapter 49)

a quick update to break yet another writer's block * sighs *

49. Another night in Hell's Kitchen

"Who's this fancy looking fella?" Foggy asks, taking in Matt's appearance when you two come to the office minutes before the work day begins.

"You like it?" Matt slowly spins around, showing off his new navy blue suit, paired with a dark red tie with small black dots.

"Did you sell your kidney or something to buy this? Jesus, you're making me look like a subway worker." Foggy laughs, coming to touch Matt's suit to feel the material.

"Nah, got a good deal." Matt smiles, adding, "all the glory should go to y/n, she managed to bargain a smaller price."

Your cheeks turn a light shade of pink, and you quickly turn around from Foggy and Karen to hang your coat. "The owner is a friend of my mom and well, your blindness really soothed his character."

"Wait, wait. I think I'm missing something." Foggy stands, one hand on his hips, and intently looks at the two of you. "I think I need an explanation."

"Y/n invited me for Thanksgiving dinner and we raided the shops later." Matt shrugs as if it wasn't a big deal to hang out with an employee... On a holiday. At her parent's house.

"I just couldn't let him be sullen the whole weekend while we're all away." Making way towards the kitchen for coffee, you also escape curious glances, and soon, clients start coming, pilling up in the lobby with Karen. You don't get a chance to talk with Matt until noon, as he spends most of the time with Foggy, talking to clients and running around the lobby to print documents. You, however, continue to work alone in the office until the lunch break, and just when you thought you were all going to grab a bite, and you could have a chance to smoke a cigarette or two, three loud bangs on your office door, ruin all of your plans.

*** 

"I'm sorry... But your son has been involved in..." you raise your eyebrows at the short-haired black woman and her 16-year-old son, "an armed robbery?" 

"Yes, I've already mentioned it four times."

"Sorry, I'm a bit... Not well today. So, Paxton, could you please tell me what exactly happened? If you want to stay out of jail, I need to hear every single detail." 

Paxton's mother crosses her arms, clearly unhappy with the treatment she was receiving, while Paxton was sitting on one of the armchairs, not particularly bothered by the whole situation. "Nothing. My mother is exaggerating." He shrugs, looking out through the window.

"I'm sorry, he's joking, right sweetheart?" His mother tries to gently touch his arm, but Paxton slides away as far as he can. "He told me everything last night. That's why I came here without an appointment. I noticed how many people are here, I am so glad you could take us in during your break."

"Mrs Harris..." You begin, tapping your pen on your notebook, "enough with the pleasantries. I need the details so I could tell you if I'm able to help you and Paxton. Now, please, talk."

"Remember that article a couple of weeks ago about how five men robbed a jewelry store?" She asks, casting her eyes to the ground; you give her a negative answer and wait for a more detailed explanation. "Well, Paxton was involved in it."

"What did you steal?"

"Rings, necklaces, earrings. I found a box of them in his room." She answers for Paxton.

You look at the boy, noticing a small smirk he just bit away. "What were you planning to do with them, Paxton?"

"Sell. It's all gold." He rolls his eyes.

"Why?"

"I need money." Paxton says in a hurtful tone, sending a glare towards you.

"What for?" Your question hangs in the air heavily. "Why is a teenage boy so in need of money that he must go rob a jewelry store? Tell me, do you work somewhere?"

"No, the money that I bring home is enough." Mrs Harris answers for her son once more, and you look at him in thought.

"Is it drugs, Paxton? You need more money for a dose, don't you?" He stares back at you, visibly irritated. "Is it cocaine? Or marijuana? Do you smoke with your criminal friends after school? Where'd you get the guns from?"

"Excuse me, but these are false accusations, Miss y/l/n, I-"

You hold your hand up, and continue to look right at the boy. "It is drugs. Bloodshot eyes, runny nose. You keep buying those eye drops in hopes of concealing it, but they don't work, do they?"

"Miss-"

"How do you know?" He finally asks after failing the staring contest.

"I had my fair share of experience with drug addicts. Now, if we cleared this one up, where'd you get the guns and who were your accomplices?"

"I can't tell you. I made a promise." He protests in vain.

"Addict's promise is nothing more than an empty talk. Did they threaten you?" You're met with silence and uneasiness from Mrs Harris. "Paxton, we're bound by an attorney-client privilege. Whatever you say, stays in this room. I can only advise what's best for you in court."

"No."

"I think you're lying to me."

"Yes, okay? I had to keep my mouth shut so they would give me my share." You rub your forehead in thought, when Paxton speaks up again, "we found some guns in an abandoned place, it was like a warehouse or something. We only came there to threaten the owner, but then Joey fired a shot and... We didn't want to hurt anyone."

"Did you hurt someone?"

"No, the bullet went through the display glass, but we got scared and ran away." Paxton was still restricted, but after you assured that it stays between you three, he opened up. 

"Did anyone see you?"

"No, we wore masks."

"Can you tell other names? Besides Joey?"

He hesitates, cracking his fingers, afraid to meet his mother's eyes. 

***  

"He's agreed to help us, in exchange for a full immunity." 

"Did he give any names?" Mahoney asks, flipping over the papers.

"All of them." You answer, looking over at Mrs Harris and her son, still in your office. Matt and the rest of the office returned from their lunch break, and Matt was awkwardly hanging around Karen's desk, listening to you and Mahoney talking on the phone from time to time. Karen was pushing him to get a grip and finally start taking money from the clients, rather than doing everything for free; yet he kept pushing back with the same old arguments. 

"Well, I need you to come to the station, so we could take the statement, only then I can guarantee a full immunity."

"Alright, we'll see you soon, Sergeant."

*** 

You enter Josie's before seven, pushing through the thick crowd to the pool tables, old rock music is blaring through the speakers on full volume. Some guy almost spills his drink and starts apologizing profusely, so you quicken your step until you finally see familiar faces of Nelson and Murdock. "Apologies for the delay, Mahoney held us up." You sigh, stopping in front of the pool table to watch how Foggy misses a perfect shot.

"He likes to do that a lot." Foggy comments, trying to cover up his incredible failure.

"What happened? You were gone the whole afternoon." Matt fixes his glasses, directing his movements elsewhere, although he wanted to at least put a comforting hand on your shoulder... But not in public. 

"Uh... Whiskey neat?" You ask him, snatching his drink without waiting for an answer, and when the alcohol burns your throat, finally reply, "so basically, the warehouse where the kids found guns belong to the irish, yes, yet another gang in Hell's Kitchen. And the police are on the lookout for them, but it seems that they went into hiding." You put an empty glass on the table next to you, and touch Matt's shoulder, "Next one's on me."

"Wait, so what happened to the kids?" Karen asks, sipping her own drink, which you notice to be the same brand of  beer that Matt keeps buying for himself.

"We all talked, but of course, their parents weren't happy with the charges, so none of them confessed, but Paxton's on tape, and he still has the full immunity on the table." 

"And the store owner?"

"He didn't recognize any of them, but he did recognize the stolen jewelry that Paxton brought with him. At least they were smart enough to wear masks, but if Mahoney pulls out a search warrant, it's over for them." You sigh, plopping on the chair nearby. "I'm dog tired and I can't believe I've walked all the way from the station here."

"Hey, it's time to relax now, we've got all gang here!" Foggy puts his hands on your shoulders and shakes, a bit too strong for your liking.

"Nelson and Murdock are finally back!" Karen lifts her bottle and cheers when Matt's shot goes right into the hole. 

"That's a pretty damn good shot there, Murdock." You comment, and Matt's cheeks slightly blush. You quickly check him out, relaxed and laid back, his jacket ditched somewhere on the chair, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and his strong arms exposed. If you could, you'd take him right here in the filthy bathroom of Josie's bar; but you can only bite your lip and wait for Josie to bring you a drink.

Matt laughs, "I only got lucky this time."

"He's been riding on that luck the whole evening, don't trust his words." Foggy comments and goes around the table to find the best position for himself again.

***  The evening goes by quickly, you've already lost the count on how many drinks you have consumed in those couple of hours, the bar is nowhere near empty, on the contrary, it only became fuller. Foggy has won two out of six rounds against Matt and has been glued to his beer ever since, apart from an occasional bathroom break, and now it was Karen v Matt in the 'grand pool battle', as Foggy called it. 

Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your purse, confused. 1 new message. You can't help but look around the bar, before opening the message from an unknown number. Maybe Todd has come back to haunt you again?

U/N: hey, just wanted to check in, how are you?

You: sorry, who's this?

You see three dots appear and disappear multiple times, and at last, the person texts back, you quickly sober up.

U/N: It's Poindexter.

U/N: don't mean to appear like a stalker, but got your number from the case documents.

You: Oh

Dex clenches his jaw tightly, and Ray turns to look at him, clutching his phone. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dex answers, briefly looking around where they have parked their car. Dex and Ray were on a lookout mission tonight, and after a long afternoon of contemplating, he finally gathered enough courage to text you. And your response wasn't as warm as he expected it to be.

After two long minutes, which felt like an hour to Dex, you finally started typing something. Ray side-eyed his partner with rising interest, pretty much because he has never seen him staring at his phone like that. Dex's small smirk to your message added more suspicion to the already boiling pot.

You: does this count as a part of your job, agent? 

Dex: not when I'm off duty.

You: are you off duty now?

Dex: well, I guess you caught me this time.

Matt listens to the sudden liveliness of your phone, slightly confused, but then Karen appears next to him and offers to teach how to play pool 'correctly', despite the obvious fact that he's been playing with Foggy the whole evening. You watch them from behind a half empty glass of whiskey, catching the way drunken Karen allowed herself to boldly touch Matt. You shouldn't be mad or jealous... Theoretically... Because you two weren't public or official. But theory aside, you were biting your cheek to refrain from a sarcastic remark. Matt couldn't help himself but smile awkwardly when he felt Karen's fingers sliding along his arm; her closeness was too much for his liking, especially in front of you; but your attention was somewhere else already.

You: didn't think feds worked overtime.  You replied cheekily, but then added, I'm ok. Thanks for asking, Dex.

Dex's response was quick, you don't know a lot about us then. I guess everything that happened was very hard for you. 

You get a fresh glass of whiskey, thinking over his message. It was strange, that when your life has finally settled, weeks after Teneke's murder, Dex decided to text you. Although there was some truth in his words, it was hard, the nightmares weren't the fun part of the whole thing too... But it was all in the past now; with Matt by your side, you allowed yourself to relax and not think of all the bad things that happened in your life since your return to Hell's Kitchen.

You: it was, yeah. If we're already on this subject, how are you?

Dex: I'm good, thanks.

And he was, especially when you texted back. His smile, even though a brief one, didn't go unnoticed by Ray. Dex wanted to text something else, keep the conversation going, but his mind was blank, especially when it came to making small talk; although he was now guarded by his phone and safe from any first-hand awkwardness, Dex still didn't know how to deal with the sudden stress. But his self-pitying session got interrupted by your message, so, what are you up to right now? So, you did care after all. Enough to not let this conversation die.

Dex: on a lookout for a bad guy, pretty boring. And you? Hopefully something more exciting.

You: in a bar, drinking my salary away with the bosses. How bad that bad guy is?

Dex: pretty bad in my opinion. Don't drink too much, you won't feel well tomorrow  :)

You lock your phone and notice that Foggy and Karen were already dressed up.

"Look who's off her phone already, you missed all the fun." Foggy says, buttoning his coat up. 

"You're leaving already?" 

"Yeah, Karen's afraid to go home alone and I-"

"I am not!" Karen giggles, steadying herself against the pool table. Matt laughs, leaning on the pool cue and sips his beer. 

"Huh, maybe I should head home as well... Just want a cigarette so bad, haven't had one the whole day." You sigh, and say your goodbyes to Foggy and Karen. The bar is still full, Josie's been running non-stop, and you think to yourself if it's always like this on a Monday night.

"That leaves just two us now, huh?" Matt says, striking the white ball into the red one. 

"Isn't this just so romantic?" You laugh, walking closer to Matt, and whispering in his ear, "those shouting ones really know how to create an atmosphere...Full of sweaty bodies and that stink of cheap beer." 

"I'd say this is perfect." He laughs, handing you the pool cue. 

"No, I don't play." 

"Come on, let me teach you." 

"Really? And how will you do that?" 

"With your help, of course." Matt laughs into your ear, and puts his hands around your shoulders, positioning the cue in your hands. "Now, turn where the white one is." You do that, noticing that there's a green ball right behind the white one. "And now, you strike that ball into another one, like that." He pushes the cue with quick, powerful movement, still holding your hand. 

"It went in!" 

"See, it's easy." He smiles, forgetting that he was gonna ask you who was texting you this late in the evening. You celebrate for a moment, but then grab Matt's hand, asking to go home. And who was Matt to refuse your ideas, when he knew how tired you were?

As you were waiting for a taxi outside, Matt was standing so close to you that you smelled his perfume mixed with all the smells of the bar even through your burning cigarette. 

"Listen, I wanna ask you something, y/n." He begins, shuffling his feet on the sidewalk. "Do you... Would you like to go on a date tomorrow evening?" 

"A date?" You ask again, averting your attention from the passing cars. "Matt, we've been together for like a month."

"I know, and I haven't asked you on a date once, that's on me." His warm hands found yours and squeezed affectionately, "let's go to some nice place, maybe not too expensive," you laugh and it's like music to his ears, "I would choose it myself, but unfortunately," Matt gestures to his glasses, "I'll put on my best suit, and you could put on that silk dress I helped you choose... What do you say?" 

You wanted to kiss him right now and never let him out of your arms, "I have one place in mind... I just hope that it will be as romantic as Josie's." 

He laughs, throwing his head back, "so, that's a yes?"

"Affirmate, Mr Murdock." You kiss him on the cheek, leaving the biggest smile on his face. 

*** 

"Hey, I told you I'm sorry, I tried to reason with my mother to not go to that lawyer!" Paxton's voice rings in the dark alley, four dark figures hovering above him menacingly.

"So you had to tell our names to save your own ass, didn't you?" Joey asks, kicking Paxton's thigh with enough force to earn a loud cry. 

"I was busted either way. She cracked me about the drugs, I can't be in jail for having drugs in my house, please!"

"You're just a pussy, Paxton. I always knew you were the weakest link." Toby says, pulling the hood off his head. "We could've sold that gold for good money and taken more guns from the warehouse, but it's all busted now. And whose fault is that?"

"Guys, please," Paxton shields his head from another kick, "I beg you, stop, I'll take everything back, I promise-"

"I don't take promises from a snitch. We should just kill you right now." Joey says, picking up a brick from the ground, and gets hit by one of Daredevil's billy clubs, which bounces off to knock out Toby. The rest of the gang look around in panic, until they notice a dark figure on one of the rooftops, and another billy club flies through the air and knocks them out as well. 

"Please, please, don't kill me, Daredevil!" Paxton lies back down, keeping his hands in the air. 

The devil of Hell's Kitchen lands on the ground switfly with little effort and picks up his billy clubs, agonizingly slowly stalking towards Paxton. "Call the police, call your lawyer first thing in the morning, leave no details, you understand? Drop the shady business or I won't be so nice the next time we meet." Matt rasps out, in case Paxton has heard him speaking in the office.

"Okay, okay, I'll do it, please don't hurt me anyone." Paxton cries out, holding his bruised side. 

"Make the call right now, Paxton, I won't ask again."

The boy pulls out his phone, screen almost shattered from the kicks and dials the emergency number, fearfully looking at his knocked out friends and Daredevil himself, standing and looking right at him.

Another typical night in Hell's Kitchen.

#matt murdock #marvel daredevil #bound by law #foggy nelson #matt murdock x reader #netflix daredevil #matts superhearing complicates things for you #lawyers #daredevil #marvel #karen page #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #bullseye daredevil #benjamin poindexter #ben poindexter #daredevil season 2 #human disaster matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matthew murdock

[ceterisparibus116]

Just thinking about how some parts of the Daredevil fandom do...not a great job when talking about mentally ill characters. I’m thinking specifically of Matt, Maggie, and Dex.

#matt murdock #sister maggie #ben poindexter #daredevil #mental illness

[cieric-of-chaos]

Yes dex looks good in the daredevil suit

But I still prefer seeing his thick ahh bleached eyebrows....

#like the moment i saw those scary eye brows and his chiseled jaw i knew he got me #no cause if there is a season 4 we could have seen him in his own suit :( #Bullseye #benjamin poindexter #wilson bethel #ben poindexter #daredevil season 3 #daredevil #matt murdock #charlie cox #kingpin

[marvelousmrm]

Daredevil #146 (Shooter/Kane, June 1977). Matt takes a golf ball to the noggin and a bullet to the shoulder proving to Bullseye how fearless he is.

#marvel #marvel 616 #daredevil #matt murdock #ben poindexter #bullseye #jim shooter #gil kane

[petertingle-yipyip]

MAD AT GOD - MATT MURDOCK

Season Three - House of Memories

tags: @ironprincessstranger @johnmurphys-sass @dusstory @americaarse @astrobees @mayasaurus--rex @woowwwee // two // Season 2B // masterlist

Pairing: Bullseye X Reader (Casual) , Matt X Reader (Past)

Word Count: 9,558

Summary: Times have changed since Midland Circle, so has Y/N. As she attempts to move forward, relationships are strained and circumstances are less than favorable. Can she cope on her own or will she fall back into old habits?

“Welcome to our final class for the semester!” The professor announced as he paraded into the room. Various hoots and claps came from around you but you simply smiled, glad to have another class checked off your schedule. “As you know, today is the final day for debates. We have only a few to get through so the quicker we go, the quicker we enjoy our winter break. Y/L/N, you’re up first!”

You pushed yourself up and hurried down the lecture hall steps until you reached the front. You stood at the closer podium and scanned the notes that waited for you.

A man attempts to break into a house late at night. The owner, a single woman, owns a retired police dog - a German Shepherd to be specific. He bites the perpetrator but releases and recalls when the noise wakes the woman and she calls him back. You’re supposed to argue the man is at fault. Your opposition will argue that the woman is.

“There’s five people you can choose to argue against, or I can choose for you.” Your professor said as you looked up at the empty podium across from you.

“You can pick.. But don’t make it easy.” You shrugged and glanced up at Matt. You knew he hadn’t gone yet and he was smiling down at you.

“Mr. Murdock!” He called and you grinned. “My two top students should go against each other, don’t you think? C’mon down, my boy!”

Matt laughed slightly and made his way down, cane bouncing off the steps. The professor pulled a different copy of the notes from his bag and placed it at Matt’s podium. You gave him a minute while he ran his fingers over the page and his brows raised in interest.

“Ladies first.” The professor bowed and stepped back.

“Clearly, the man is at fault.” You began easily. “Attempted breaking and entering.”

“Yes, but this dog is trained to attack and by New York law, that makes the owner liable.” Matt countered. “Just compensate for the $2,200 in medical bills and call it a day.”

“Yes, but New York law also states that if the victim is trespassing or provoking the animal, the owner isn’t liable.”

“How do you know he was provoking the animal?”

“Security footage.”

“That wasn’t in the notes.” Matt smiled slightly.

“You’re going to assume a woman who lives alone doesn’t have cameras?” You raised your brows.

“Regardless, the dog is trained to attack. Especially being retired police, there must’ve been training for him to engage in certain situations.”

“Certain hostile situations, you mean.”

“You can’t be sure the man was hostile.”

“Why was he breaking into her house then?”

“Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was running, looking for somewhere to hide or someone to help him. The dog misread the body language and attacked, unprovoked.”

“Can I ask you something, Mr. Murdock?”

“Please.” He smiled.

“If I threaten you, are you within your rights to defend yourself?”

“Yes, I am.”

“And if I am threatened, can I defend myself?”

“Yes.”

“With whatever I feel is necessary?”

“Sure.”

“Exactly. The dog felt it’s home and owner were threatened. It reacted accordingly.”

“Sounds a bit like victim blaming, doesn’t it?” He asked with a tilt of his head and you almost laughed.

“Coming from the man blaming an animal.”

“Let me ask you something, Ms. Y/L/N. By going off your last statement, your addressing the animal like it’s a weapon.”

“And if I had a concealed carry permit, do I have to show it to you or announce it before defending myself with said weapon?”

“No. But you are still held responsible if you kill your attacker, even if it’s self-defense.”

“You seem to be sympathizing with the attacker. Tell me, Mr. Murdock. Do you?”

“Are you insinuating I hurt people?” His voice feigned hurt but he nearly laughed in amusement.

“Of course not.” You said honestly. “But I do think you enjoy a bit of power.”

“Do you sympathize with the woman?”

“With a woman, on her own, being attacked by someone who she owes nothing to?” You challenged slightly, putting more of a personal anger into the words than intended. “I think any woman in the room would.”

“Maybe that’s clouding your judgment.”

“Is that an ad hominem I hear? Maybe you’re trying to attack me because you know your argument is weak.”

“I’ll admit that the man shouldn’t have gone breaking into houses. However, the woman should’ve had signage posted that a dog with the training and intent to protect was on the premises.”

“Should she have put a sign on every corner of her fence?” You raised your brows. “Because for all we know, there’s a sign on her front gate.”

“I don’t remember if it’s in the notes so just assume there is.” Your professor agreed, seemingly enthralled in your discussion like his favorite TV show. “You two are doing fantastic. You’ve almost gotten to the deciding factor.”

“With posted signage at the front of her property, she shouldn’t have to post it on the back if there’s no typical entry there.” You continued.

“One sign is easy to overlook.” Matt shrugged.

“Not if you enter the property in the proper way. Therefore, the only way the woman is liable would be if the dog bit the man on the sidewalk, since it’s public property.”

“Can we get a description of what the dog bites look like?” Matt turned to your professor.

“Should be on the second page.” He nodded and you cleared your throat. He looked at you and you gave a small jerk of your head towards Matt. “Of course. You’d think I’d remember.” He mumbled and your class chuckled.

You moved to his podium with your paper in hand and reached for his arm. He gave it to you willingly so you pushed the sleeve of his shirt up and twisted it so you could see the inside of his forearm while dropping your page on top of his.

“Punctures from the top canines here.” You used two fingers pressed against his skin as you looked at the paper. “Bottom here. Bruising along here.” Your fingers trailed along his arm and he shivered slightly. “Another set of punctures here, with a bit of lacerations. Less than an inch maybe.”

“A second set of punctures?” His brows furrowed beneath his glasses and you recognized the tone of his voice. He heard something of interest. “So the dog bit once, let go, and bit again? And shook, if there were lacerations.”

“The lacerations are newer, based on the blood color.” You countered. “They don’t look like a shake. It looks like he was pulling his arm away.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because they go downwards. Typically, shakes just make the initial punctures deeper and a little wider, little messier. If anything the movement would be horizontal.”

“Anything else on the bites?”

“No, but..” You flipped the page over and found another photo, though this one was the dog covered in blood and a copy of a vet bill. “There’s a vet bill.”

You flipped Matt’s notes and found what you assumed was the same thing just in braille. You put his hand against it and read your own.

“The dog had damage to his left eye and socket, a chunk missing from his ear and a bloody line four inches down his side.” You explained the photo. “Was the dog shot?”

Your professor nodded.

“Your guy shot her dog.” You turned back to Matt. “Probably used the butt of the gun to hit its eye.”

“You’re right.” He nodded with a small smile. “The woman’s not at fault.”

“You wanted the $2200 for medical?” You asked and he nodded. “Vet bills were $3700. Pay out the difference and we’ll call it even.”

Matt grinned and shook your hand. Your professor stood and celebrated, causing the class to give polite claps. Foggy gave a loud shout from the back.

———————————————

How he survived, he didn’t know. When he finally washed up after Midland Circle, he felt closer to death than he ever had before. He hardly had strength to breathe, let alone try to get home. Try to get to Y/N.

The thought of her was the only thing that kept him going. She was the only thing that had him even considering healing, considering living after that. He heard her voice in every thought. Her touch seemed to ghost his skin though she was nowhere near.

I can’t lose you, Matty. I just can’t.

I trust you with my life.

I want you with me.

I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with you.

My life isn’t worth yours.

Just don’t let it take you from us, okay?

How could he ever face her again? To stand in front of her, knowing she would break down, and ask her to forgive him for sacrificing his life. And for what? For his own pride? For Elektra? And not even the Elektra they both knew and loved at that, but a hollowed out version driven by her own selfish desires.

“Where…? Where…?” He tried to get out a full question but every word seemed to die as it fell from his lips.

“St. Agnes. The orphanage.” A familiar voice answered but he couldn’t make out anything else. Matt felt like someone had shoved a pound of dry cotton into his ears. And while he appreciated the knowledge of where he was, that wasn’t what he wanted to know.

“How long?”

“Several weeks.”

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Y/N.”

“She’s come and gone for the day.” The woman rushed an answer and the words made Matt’s head spin violently as he sat up. Or was that more the residual injuries? “Get back in the bed! You’ll hurt yourself!”

“My right ear… I can’t..”

Matt tried to get out of the bed but he collapsed to the floor with the first step. It was like his body forgot how to move. His own skeleton failed him and let him crash to the ground and a wound at his side gnawed angrily at the impact. The fluid between his ears was as uneasy as the ocean and nothing around him felt solid. The only thing that kept him in that moment was the cold floor beneath him and the firm hands that tried to haul him up.

She’s come and gone for the day.

Why was Y/N at the church? She didn’t believe in any of it. Was she looking for Matt? Did she already know he was alive? If she knew, she would’ve been beside him. He firmly believed that if she knew, she wouldn’t leave his side. She would’ve sat there, day and night, waiting to scream at him for abandoning her or to make sure he actually pulled through. There would’ve been some piece of her left in that room, whether it be the warmth of her skin or the scent of her perfume or the sound of her voice. Something would’ve still been there, unless maybe it was and Matt just couldn’t tell. What a cold loneliness he felt around him when he considered that thought.

To anything outside that small, lonely room in the orphanage, Daredevil - and in turn, for some at least, Matt Murdock - was dead.

————————————

Matt and Foggy were in their dorm room, the afternoon after meeting Y/N.

Saying the girl was electric was an understatement. From the second he heard her say his name, he was a goner. He had known her for mere minutes, hours if you count the night, but he felt something in his chest when she introduced herself. His heart thumped faster when she laughed and time seemed to slow when she touched him.

He started to wonder if that’s what it meant to have a soulmate.

“Are you gonna call her?” Foggy asked that morning.

“We met her last night, Foggy.” Matt reasoned with a nervous chuckle. “I’m not gonna call her.”

“Dude.”

“I’m not!”

“You’re gonna miss this perfect opportunity? Matt, c’mon man! She was gorgeous!”

“I-“

“No, like you don’t get it. She was probably the most beautiful woman to have ever walked this campus. You should’ve seen her.”

“Well I-“

“Don’t!” Foggy cut in so Matt smiled innocently. “Do not make a blind joke right now.”

“If she’s so beautiful, then you call her.” Matt tried, though the suggestion felt like a slap to the face.

“I’m not the one she was making googly eyes at on the walk back last night.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“I-“ Foggy began before a loud, exasperated sigh. “Matt! Dude!”

“Foggy!” Matt replied in the same tone. “It’s fine. We’ll probably run into her in class anyway.”

“You’re gonna just wait and hope that you two run into each other again by chance? When she’s probably the most perfect and smart and beautiful and charming and-“

“Sounds like you liked her more than I did.” Matt mumbled and dropped onto his back across his mattress.

“Matt. Matthew. My friend.” Foggy said as he came and sat on his friend’s bed beside him. “I’m telling you this because I love you. Call the girl!”

“I’m not gonna call her!” Matt laughed. “C’mon man. You really think a girl like that - as beautiful as you say she is and can speak that many languages and who knows what else she can do. You think a girl like that is gonna wanna be with me?”

“Buddy, I think she would’ve married you last night if you had asked.”

Matt couldn’t help but laugh.

“Alright, fine.” He sighed dramatically, though he was admittedly giddy. “I’ll call her. Dial her number for me.”

“Do you hear that?” Foggy joked as he found the scrap of her book page that she wrote her number on and dialed on Matt’s phone. “Sounds like wedding bells, my friend. Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N-Murdock.”

“Y/L/N-Murdock, huh?” Matt laughed as he held the phone to his ear.

“Yeah, you’re right… Murdock-Y/L/N? Nah, I don’t like that either. Maybe just Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“It’s about time, Murdock.” Y/N joked on the other end of the call. “And here I thought you forgot about me.”

————————————

“Matthew.” Father Lantom announced his arrival one day and Matt was drawn out of the same spiral of thoughts that haunted him. The same circulation of memories that plagued him.

“Father, I didn’t know you were there.” Matt answered honestly, though the feeling in his right ear was as nagging as ever. “Sister Maggie said something before… About Y/N.”

“Oh.. Yes.” He nodded and Matt noticed his hesitation. It was as if he was thinking of how to tell Matt whatever he knew. “She’s been coming around a bit more often lately.”

“Does she know?”

“No… No, I haven’t been able to bring myself to tell her.”

“Why does she come then?”

“You know, it’s the strangest thing. She’s only come inside once.. Said the building doesn’t smell like cinnamon anymore, whatever that means.”

Matt sighed heavily, understanding exactly what she meant. Though he had never smelled it himself, he knew it was how the devotion in the building showed up to her. It was part of her abilities, how she described the church as warm and alive with everyone’s belief. She described anger as red, hot and burning. Sadness was cold and blue. Happiness was a soft purple. Love was pink and fuzzy. Fear, yellow and bitter. He wondered what she was feeling now.

“Instead she just… sits on the bench out front until one of the boys comes to collect her for work. Poor thing.” Lantom continued and it made Matt’s heart twist.

“It’s my fault.. She was with me that night and I- I made her leave. I couldn’t let her die with me.” Matt said weakly.

“She’s doing well lately, better since she’s recovered.”

Matt wondered what that meant but he didn’t dwell on it.

“The.. The way her voice broke when she- When she called out for me… I heard her scream when it all happened.”

Just talking about it replayed that scream and he felt his heart splinter again.

“I’m sure she would love to see you.”

“I just can’t get that sound out of my head.” He nearly whispered.

“She used to say the last thing you said to her played in her head like a record on repeat… Said she’d give anything to hear you say her name again.”

Matt said nothing this time. He would love to have Y/N come by but he knew it wasn’t fair. He’d been gone for several weeks, at least. That could’ve meant months. Y/N could’ve gotten over everything and seeing him, knowing he was alive and she had been so close to him every time she came, it would only break her again. How could he put her through that? How could he be so selfish?

“Matthew, you have to admit it is a miracle that you survived.” Lantom tried.

“That’s how most of our conversations tend to go.” Matt complained and rolled to his side. “Let’s just give it a rest.”

Lantom left after that, allowing Matt to wallow in his own thoughts and boredom.

He wondered who were the boys that came for Y/N. What of her life was still the same? Did Exodus come back to protect the Kitchen, to take out her anger and pain on those she thought deserved it? Or did she sit at home, alone in the apartment that they had danced in? The apartment they had cooked dinners in and cleaned together and where she taught him more and more Russian. Was she as alone as he was? Chased by memories of something buried alive.

Those were the thoughts that plagued Matt day in and day out. He thought of his other friends, too. Karen and Foggy. He wondered if Jessica or Luke or Danny had checked in on Y/N. He even wondered if Frank had heard and looked out for her

Matt wasn’t sure how long exactly it had been since his conversation with Father Lantom about Y/N when Sister Maggie brought her up as well.

“There must be at least one person I can call for you.” She said, almost regretfully and there was a hint of a knowing tone in her voice.

“No.” Matt decided. “There’s no one.”

“What about the girl?”

“What girl?”

“The sad, pretty one. Although lately she seems more angry than sad.” She described her simply and a brief smile crossed Matt’s face. “She comes every morning and has told me about a specific someone who sounds remarkably like you. And given all of that, I’m guessing she was the one you liked to do backflips with.”

“Exodus.”

Sister Maggie hummed in response.

“Her name is Y/N.” Matt said, almost defensively. He couldn’t take her down to only her vigilante name because she was so much more than that. He helped her see that, so ignoring that would be wrong. Exodus was part of who Y/N was, not the entirety.

“You should consider yourself lucky to have found a girl like that that’s willing to put up with all of this.”

“Yeah…”

Back at the apartment, you were getting home for the day. It was an easy day. You had been back from Quantico for a few months, but everything from Billy at the carousel set back your timeline. After your mandated therapy and physical rehab, today was the first day you were unrestricted, though of course your luck meant nothing exciting happened.

You reached for your door handle and found it already unlocked. You walked in confidently after dropping your purse and coat by the door, a hand hovering at the gun on your hip, only to find Karen. She was kneeling by the closet under your stairs with the case to Matt’s suit open in front of her.

“I could’ve told you it’s still not there.” You said simply, removing your gun and badge from your belt and tossing them to the table. “It’s not coming back, Karen. Neither is he.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve called.” She answered gently, a sadness in her voice.

“Yeah..” You agreed quickly. “Want a drink?”

“I’m okay, thanks.. But uh, how are you?”

“That’s not what this is about.” You threw the fridge shut. “Y’know, come to think of it, I don’t know why you keep coming back and looking for it.”

“I know.. I just can’t shake the feeling that-“

“Not even that.” You laughed with annoyance. “You don’t remember what you told him, do you? When you came by the next day after he told you about all that.” You pointed to the closet.

She was quiet so you continued.

“I don’t think Daredevil’s the problem.” You repeated and her eyes dropped. Her guilt tinted the air with a stale feeling, vaguely smelling like old water. “You didn’t want him in your life as Daredevil but now that he’s gone, you pretend that you cared about the suit.”

She looked back to you quickly. “I didn’t care about the suit. I cared about him.”

“You cared about Matt… Yeah, I’ll give you that. But you didn’t give a shit about Daredevil. You can’t separate the two!”

“Is that why you liked him? Because he was Daredevil.”

“Oh my god.” You muttered.

“Because you liked a guy that you could treat like shit and still expect him to care?”

“Fuck you, Karen.” You snapped. “I cared about Matt long before he even thought about Daredevil so don’t stand there and act like you know anything about our relationship.”

“No, you’re right. Because you two kept so many goddamn secrets nobody really knew either of you, right?”

“Is this really what you came for? To fight with me.” You came around the counter and took a few steps closer to her, making her step back. “Because if you did, you can walk right back out the door and y’know what. You don’t even have to come back. Okay? I don’t need this shit from you anymore. I’m done, Karen.”

She was quiet and you felt the way your words sliced through her but you were too angry to stop talking. You let that anger burn through you as the words fell from your lips.

“Evidently, the only reasons we got along were because Matt and Frank were mutual friends. Now that they’re not around, we have nothing.” You shrugged. “You don’t have to pretend to care about me anymore. I don’t need a pity friend. And I don’t want one.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.” She replied quietly, like a child being yelled at by her parents. “I’m sorry. We’re just worried, me and Foggy.”

“Well don’t be. I’m fine.” You offered a sarcastic expression before going back to the far side of the counter.

She nodded slightly. “I don’t believe that.”

“I don’t care. I don’t need a babysitter. I still make a couple meetings for that support group with Curtis. I left Anvil and the Billy fiasco behind. I’m trying to take the FBI offer seriously. I don’t know what else you and him need me to do to convince you that I’m fine.”

“Foggy said you’re going to Matt’s church again.”

“Oh my-“ You mumbled. “That’s what this is about? Because I sit on a stupid bench?”

“It’s more than just a bench, Y/N.”

“What else is there to say? What are you fishing for?” You sighed heavily and leaned your palms against your countertop, nearly wincing at the sharp contrast of the cool surface against your burning skin. “I’m moving on. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

A series of quick knocks sounded at your door.

“What you both wanted.” You corrected as you went to open the door, seeing Foggy standing on the other side.

“Surprise.” He smiled nervously.

“Whatever intervention or ambush this is, I don’t need it.” You announced as you headed back into the living room. “I’m doing great.”

“I just came to see my friend. We haven’t had time to get together since you’ve been back, given all the other stuff that happened.” Foggy said honestly. You turned to face him and stared for a moment, reading his emotions. You found he wasn’t coming from a place of worry or concern. Just friendship.

You offered a small smile in response as your own headspace cleared. Maybe you needed someone familiar to be around for a bit. “Then you can stay a while. And if you don’t try to pick another fight, Karen, you can stay too.”

You had to admit. Foggy’s good heart and honest energy seemed to be the only thing lately that could help your heart break through.

Back at the church, Sister Maggie was continuing her conversation with Matt.

“Angry, sarcastic, and stubborn. Maybe you don’t have any friends.” Maggie joked, though Matt didn’t find it funny.

“Someone once told me that warriors were meant to be alone.” He answered simply rather than argue. “That caring for people would make me weak.”

“Is that what you told that Exodus girl?”

“Y/N.” Matt said defensively to himself.

“That you’d be weak if you cared? Cause it doesn’t seem like she got the memo.”

“I let people in, I paid a price… If anyone can understand that, it’s her. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Would she call it a mistake?”

“You really wanna push the Y/N topic, don’t you?” Matt groaned. Not because he didn’t want to talk about Y/N, but because it just hurt too much still.

“She seems to be the only topic that gets you to talk.” Maggie countered.

The conversation then shifted to Job after Matt found his old Bible and the way Matt thought he was serving God the same way. Matt admitted that he didn’t hate God, but he felt he understood Him better and understood where they stood with each other.

“For the record, I had friends. I had a life, a girlfriend and I- I loved her, probably would’ve married her one day. Started a family of our own down the road. I care about people and I’m choosing to let them believe that I’m gone because I am.”

“Tell that to the girl that sits on that bench every morning.”

“You don’t get it.” He sighed.

“I think I do, Matthew. She makes you happy, and that’s the worst thing for you.”

“I know my truth now, Sister.”

“What truth?”

“I’d rather die as the Devil than live as Matt Murdock.”

“So I guess she’d rather live as Y/N, without either, and blame herself for the Devil’s death.”

“At least she’ll live.”

“But what kind of a life is that?”

Sister Maggie left after that, allowing Matt to sit in his own continuous misery. Missing Foggy, Y/N, and Karen. That was his own punishment. He deserved that, for all the pain and suffering he had brought to them. He was better alone, the same as Y/N tried to convince herself she was, and he hoped she had started to believe she was better without him. Difference was that he chose to do what he did. Y/N was made into it. The only thing he would change was that Y/N blamed herself.

That night, Sister Maggie came back.

“I think you’re a hero, hiding down here and feeling sorry for yourself.” She said simply. “Just out back, there’s an orphanage full of kids who’ve lost everything and everyone. Some of them disabled, much worse off than you ever were. And they’re still trying to make the most out of life, the little cowards.”

“Okay, alright.” Matt cut in.

“I mean it! Here you are, with all the gifts God gave you. Handsome, smart, a law degree, people who care about you. You have a beautiful, thoughtful girl that comes here every single day without fail who only wants to see you again. Doesn’t even know you’re here, mind you. But you’re so bravely giving up.”

“Y’know, thank you for the tough love, Sister.” Matt complained as he hobbled across the cold room. “And your charmingly simplistic view of God and the world. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, I really do, but don’t for a second think you know anything about me or her or my life.”

“I’ve been a nun for 30 years. I know self-pity when I hear it.” She continued. “And I know that she’s had to leave people, without explanation. I know that after losing you, if how she feels is how they all felt, she would’ve done it differently.”

“Yeah? Well, no one died because of her. Twice, actually.”

“You don’t know everything about her past, Matthew. The guilt she carries could be more than yours.”

“But you do?”

“No.. But I do know your father was famous around here. I saw him fight, saw him go down many times. But he never stayed down.” She pressed before she left.

Matt laid in bed that night and thought of her words, and she was right. About his dad at least. He didn’t stay down. But he did have to wonder about what she said about Y/N, regretting the choices she’d made. If she had known the way people hurt when she left - how he hurt when she left - would she have made different choices?

He couldn’t help but think how different his life would’ve been if she had never left. Or if she had never came in the first place.

A few days passed and Matt found some sense of recovery. He managed to clear some of the blockages in his sinuses, allowing him to find some normalcy with training again. Certain moves still hurt, still caused him to fail, but he knew he was on his way back to what he was before. Back to Daredevil.

On your next day off, you were sitting on your usual bench outside the church with your gym bag tucked beneath your feet. You greeted some of the familiar nuns and patrons with a friendly smile, accepting the gentle handshakes and blessings from the older ladies that you were seeing for the first time since you’ve been back. Sister Maggie came and sat beside you, though her usual demeanor was replaced with a jittery energy.

“Something wrong, Sister?” You asked simply as she sighed and you felt the vibrations tingle against your exposed skin.

“Well, Y/N, I don’t know how to ask you this.” She admitted and you shifted to face her fully. “Would you be.. willing to come downstairs with me today?”

“For what?”

“For a… for a fight.”

“A fight..” You repeated and raised your brows. “Since when does the church have a secret fight club?”

“I’m not thrilled about it but I think you’re the best option.”

“Okay…” You agreed hesitantly. “What’s the catch?”

“Well… Have you ever fought blindfolded? Or with your eyes closed?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though her scowl made you quiet down.

“You’re serious?” Your brows furrowed.

“Unfortunately.”

“Weirdly enough, I have..”

“Of course you have.” She sighed.

“It was a good training exercise.” You shrugged. “It taught me to understand and hone my gifts rather than depending on what I see, kinda like how Matt used to… Well, anyways, did you want me to do it today?”

“If you’re willing.”

You stared at your hands folded in your lap for a moment, tapping your fingers as you thought. It was an odd request, definitely, and it made no sense to you. But the idea did make your nerves tingle and your muscles twitch. It could be fun to repeat an old training drill, despite the clear hesitation and borderline sacrilegious nature of it. There was something Sister Maggie wasn’t telling you, but really, you didn’t care to know all the details.

“Sure.” You shrugged and stood, kneeling for your bag before following the older nun through the halls and down the stairs.

You paused before a rod-iron gate and you could feel the buzzing of your opponent on the other side. A torn cloth was tied tightly across your eyes as Sister Maggie and Father Lantom exchanged a quick, hushed conversation that you were expected to ignore about what was going to take place. You were lead through the room quietly, guided where to leave your bag.

You knelt and pulled your wraps, wrapping them in place easily after your brace was fitted on as you spoke to Lantom while Maggie talked to whoever you were facing. You tapped your hands into your chalk pouch and patted them together to cover your exposed fingers and the back of your covered knuckles with the fine powder.

“Do you have gloves?” He asked simply, though you could picture the way he was fidgeting.

“I’d rather not, if whoever’s over there doesn’t mind.” You answered, nodding towards the unknown figure behind you. “They don’t have to either, just so it’s fair.”

After a moment of quiet, Lantom answered.

“Alright. He’s not wearing a helmet and there’s a lot of marble statues around so try not to beat on him too bad.”

You smiled slightly and turned your head in his direction.

“Shouldn’t you be warning him about going easy on me, too?” You joked and stood, allowing Lantom to turn you towards your opponent and guide you closer. “Given I’m the one that can’t see.”

“No wonder you two got along.” Maggie sighed, though the statement wasn’t directed at you. “Same sense of humor.”

You reached your hand out and felt another meet yours in a quick tap. Your skin flushed warm as you tuned in to your opponent’s feelings, finding yourself warmed with a general anger and an underlying sadness. A brief flash of loneliness and regret, tucked under a suffocating blanket of self-pity that you swore was going to choke you. You cleared the feeling with a light cough as you rolled your shoulders.

They’d be easy enough to keep track of. Your only issue now would be anticipating their moves, given that you knew nothing of their fighting style. All you could assume was that they were a traditional boxer.

You moved first with hopes of keeping enough of an offense that you wouldn’t need to defend against much, throwing two sharp jabs that connected with their stomach. You were met with a brisk hook to your chin that backed you up a few steps. You chuckled lightly and shifted your jaw, having been hit harder than anticipated.

The brief swell of pride gave away where they moved to so you acted quickly, grabbing their shoulders and yanking them down your knee could slam their stomach. When you felt the hands grab your forearms, you spun your hands around so you could break their hold before throwing an elbow against their nose which earned a loud gasp from Sister Maggie. Your next punch was caught, pushing you to the side. When you turned to face them again, you were met with a quick barrage of jabs that you could block with your arms and there was an obvious tell that your opponent was holding back.

“If you’re gonna hit me, hit me. I’m sure I can take it.” You spat with the unintentional tint of your accent and were hit with a heavy wave of panic.

You seized the hesitation and moved back in, landing hit after hit. Lantom and Maggie both tried to call you off, but neither you nor your opponent stopped. You two were trading blows and dodging shots until you managed to get enough room to swing a moderated roundhouse to the side of his head and he dropped.

Lantom guided you out after that while Maggie tended to the other person, both of them unhappy with the results. He thanked you for coming and insisted you keep it quiet. You joked that you didn’t know who you were up against anyway so your story wouldn’t make much sense if you told it. But even as you were leaving, and you couldn’t remove the blindfold until you were the majority of the way up the stairs, you couldn’t deny the feeling that whoever you were up against… Their emotions were familiar, like the sound of an old song that you still miraculously knew the words to but couldn’t remember who sang it.

Something comfortable. Something that was impossible to truly get out of your head.

That night, you were out with Dex for drinks to try and forget about it.

“Why does it look like you got punched in the face?” He laughed, tapping his mouth in the same spot where you knew yours was busted.

“Cause I did.” You admitted with a small smile that tugged the small wound open. “My gym was doing a little amateur boxing showcase type thing earlier so I jumped in after my lifts.”

“Hope you won.”

“Oh, yeah.” You grinned, the action tugging the split skin open further. “Dropped the last guy nice and easy. After I had my fun, of course.”

“Otherwise, y’know, I’d have to find a new partner.”

“Wow.” Your brows raised and he gave you a playful smirk. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“That’s cold, Dex.”

“C’mon.” He chuckled. “You think I can have a partner that loses amateur boxing?”

“Too bad. Looks like you’re stuck with me. Hattley says she likes the way we work.”

“Guess I’ll have to deal with you then, huh?”

“Can’t rid of me that easy. Just ask anyone who knows me.”

As he was walking you home, you felt that familiarity again. It hooked into your chest and was tugging at you, screaming in the back of your head to get closer. You faked a reason to return to the bar - lying that you had left your phone - and hurried the few blocks to get to them. As you were getting closer, you heard a woman yelling for her dad. Her panic urged your feet to move faster, but you were so distracted by the person - likely subconsciously - calling out to you that you almost didn’t notice the car.

The tires skirted along the asphalt and you had to hop back. You leaned on the hood to see through the bright headlights, and the girl driving was more panicked than you were, with mascara stall rubbing down her puffed up cheeks. It was easy to figure out she was the one you heard so you waved her off and kept moving. But when you got to the source, you faltered, only for a second.

“God forgive me.” He mumbled, hardly enough sound for you to hear.

The defeat in his voice - his familiar voice - drove a stake through your chest that let a chilling loneliness creep out and weigh heavily on your skin. With a shiver, you forced the feeling down and focused on the situation in front of you.

One of the men raised their arms but you were quick to yank the pole from their hand. He turned on you almost instantly but you offered a smile before slamming the pole against his temple, seeing an angry gash split almost immediately. You turned and slammed a foot against the kneeling man’s chest and leaned into it, pinning him to the ground. You threw the pole at the other man, seeing the end collide with his nose before you allowed him to gather his partner and take off.

You blew a loose strand of hair from your face and turned your attention back to the man under your shoe.

You heart nearly stopped when you saw the familiar outfit.

“No…” You said quietly, moving your foot to kneel beside him.

Your fingers reached gingerly for the edge of his mask, but just as you were about to grab it, he slammed his forehead against yours and you fell backwards. You let out a loud string of curses in Russian as you rubbed the place of contact but when you looked back, you found he was gone.

You could’ve sworn, as you got up and made your way back to the apartment, that it was the Man in the Mask.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

Daredevil.

Matt Murdock.

Despite every logical thought in your head, everytime your brain mulled over the facts. Every night you went to bed alone and woke up the same. Every time you realized you missed him but forgot that it was supposed to hurt, when you realized you still weren’t really letting it hurt.

But if you had to put money on that voice being his, you would’ve.

Would it be better if he really was alive? Maybe whatever was cracking through your still cold core would reignite in your chest. You could regain your full sense of humanity and normalcy, return to the Y/N he knew and loved, assuming enough of her still existed at that point.

Or would it only force that floodgate of pain and anger and grief open? Would you find that the girl he knew, the girl you thought you were, was never real? That it’d be too much and you’d fall back into an uncaring, heartless and ruthless person that not even Dreykov would’ve wanted.

Damn him, for throwing your thoughts into a spiral even in death.

Alleged death, now.

The next morning at work, you wished you had stayed home.

“Y/L/N. You’re with me.” An agent you knew a bit, Ray Nadeem, called as he walked by you. He didn’t stay long so you had to move quickly to catch up.

“Where are we going?” You asked as you finally got to his stride.

“Talk to a guy who won’t give us shit. Hattley wants you to go since SWAT has nothing and you’re new but doesn’t want you going alone in case there’s a conflict of interest.”

“So why you? Why not send me with Dex seeing as he’s my actual partner.”

“Cause my number was up next.” He sighed in annoyance. “And didn’t Dex go out of town on assignment this morning?”

“You’re telling me this couldn’t have waited a day or two till he’s back? If he’s gonna give us nothing, what does it matter?”

When you got in the car, he passed you the thick rubber banded folder. You didn’t need to open it to know what case it was, and all thoughts of Matt and his possible survival were shoved from your head.

You were going to talk to Wilson Fisk.

You gripped the file tightly in one hand while pulling your phone. You shot Marc a quick text about Vanessa’s most recent location, and he sent back a short list of what he had since the last time you two spoke along with a rumor of where she’d be headed next. The drive to the prison was relatively quiet, but you could feel there was something eating at Ray. You thought about asking but you figured he wouldn’t want to talk to you about it so you said nothing. Instead, you cleared your throat to break the looming tension.

You two were escorted in after a brief security clearing and sat alone at a small table while the guards led Fisk in.

“Mr. Fisk, I’m Special Agent Ray Nadeem with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.” Ray introduced simply, flashing his badge before gesturing to you.

“Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N, FBI SWAT.” You nodded.

“The FBI would like your assistance with… Let’s just cut to the part where you tell us to eat shit so we can stop wasting each other’s time.”

“Do you have someone in your life that you love so much, you’d do anything to protect them?” Fisk asked solemnly, his eyes lingering on you before turning to Ray.

“Are you threatening us?” He asked quickly.

“I have made many mistakes.” Fisk nodded. “But I accept the debt I’m paying because of them. A debt-” He turned to you again. “-that certain people ensured I could not neglect.”

“He’s not threatening us, not yet at least.” You sighed and leaned forward, your chest hitting the edge of the table. “He’ll talk.” You twisted your fingers under the table to pull on the gnawing worry that was presenting in Fisk. As the man stared you down, you watched the blue mist of sadness cover his eyes and you were given a flash of a name. Vanessa. “Because there’s something we can offer as incentive.”

“What I cannot accept is that the woman I love should have to pay for them, too. I would do anything to protect her.”

“So what is it you’re saying?” Ray asked carefully.

“He wants us to help Vanessa Marianna, some sort of pardon or acquittal, so she can come back to the States.” You explained, drawing a quick head turn from Ray. “She’s been pretty good about avoiding countries with extradition, I’ll give her that. But she’s passed through a couple in Europe, for the sake of art, I bet.”

“She had nothing to do with this!” Fisk said loudly.

“But she knew, didn’t she?” You instigated.

“I want to make a deal.”

“She knew you were a criminal, I bet.”

“Y/L/N.” Ray tried.

“A liar.”

“All I ask, Agent Y/L/N, in exchange is for someone to protect this woman.”

“Let me be frank here. I don’t trust you. I want you to stay in this prison and rot for the rest of your miserable life. Vanessa can run till the money runs out and I have someone grab her. But it’s not about what I want… Give us good information and maybe we’ll look into it. She’s easy enough for me to find anyway.”

The next morning, you and Ray were tasked with leading a raid on the Albanians. It was a show of faith in Fisk, that he’d given you viable information. But even though you didn’t trust a single word out of Fisk’s mouth, your job was by the book now. You had to look into it.

And as much as you hated to say it, Fisk wasn’t lying. You and Ray led the team through a perfectly successful raid. Your office congratulated you both and you accepted the praise with a smile, even though you didn’t like it. Something about everything felt forced, like you were playing exactly the part you were meant to play and it left a grimy feeling across your skin.

You stayed huddled at your temporary desk most of the day, writing your report of the raid and finding any other trivial task that kept you away from prying eyes.

You had a feeling that the path you were on, and maybe all the FBI officers that end up involved, was going to be a rough one.

“Come with me.” Ray said suddenly, tapping your arm.

“Wha- Again?” You answered as you hurried to your feet. “Where are we going?”

“We’re gonna convince Hattley to give us the Fisk detail.”

“What? No, Ray, I don’t want it.”

“Oh, c’mon.” He groaned as you two reached the SAC’s door. “You and I were the only agents to get anything out of him since he got locked up!”

“You think that matters? You have whatever issues - I’m guessing finances since you’re so desperate - and I’m still new SWAT with a conflict of interest. Besides, in case you couldn’t tell, I don’t like Fisk. I don’t like the way he looks at people. I don’t like the way he talks to people. There is no way in hell I go in there and ask for that.”

“Look, he’s afraid of whatever you know. Right? He believes that you can get to Vanessa, without even trying. If you stay involved, even as backup - just a presence in the room. Y/L/N, I promise you, we can get enough for everyone for years.”

“Wow, okay, so you’re just not listening to the whole ‘conflict of interest’ issue? I worked at the firm that built the case that got him locked up and had a tenement case against him. I want that man to die in jail. I don’t care what he can give or what I can take away. You wanna ask her for it? Go ahead. If she asks my opinion, I’ll back you on it. Just leave me out of it.”

All the while, Matt was sulking in the church basement when Sister Maggie came to check on him.

“Give yourself time to heal or you’re gonna get yourself killed.” She said simply.

“You’re probably right.” Matt said quickly before swallowing the pills.

“Is that what you wanted?”

Instead of answering her question, Matt changed the subject.

“She found me last night… Y/N.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“No, I.. I ran off.”

“Do you wish you had talked to her?”

“I heard her heartbeat.. Seemed like the first time when she didn’t let me hear it but I heard it on my own. Something about her is different…”

“She’s been through a lot since you’ve been gone, not just counting what you did.”

“What happened?” Matt asked softly.

“Maybe if you let her be here, there’d be less of your self-pitying bullshit to throw around. She could knock some sense into you and you could ask her yourself.”

“Why did you become a nun?” He asked instead when he realized she wouldn’t tell him. He’d have to find a chance to ask Y/N instead.

“I heard God’s call.”

“So you feel like being a nun is what you’re meant to be?”

“Yes.” She said with finality. “Very much.”

“What if you couldn’t be anymore? If it were taken from you?”

“Your point being that if we can’t fulfill our calling, we might be better off as worm food?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Okay.. But let me ask you something first. What do you think Y/N’s calling is?”

He sighed heavily as he thought about it. As much as he missed her and he yearned her - as much as his own heart was probably betraying him and calling out for her in a way only she would feel - he didn’t want to talk about her. He didn’t want to be reminded of the pain he’d caused her. The way he essentially abandoned her at Midland Circle.

“Helping people.” He said finally, deciding how he wanted to word it. “Y/N was always meant to help people. Inside the law or outside of it, she knew she could make a difference.”

“I wouldn’t lose faith, Matthew, if I couldn’t fulfill my calling.” She explained with a slight edge to her voice. “I’d find some other purpose.”

“If you can be anything else, it was never really your calling.” Matt countered bitterly. “Just tell me, honestly. If you could no longer be a nun, wouldn’t you grieve?”

“Of course I would.. But this isn’t grief. This is-“

“Just please… Go away.”

“I understand what it’s like to feel lost.” She offered, with a much gentler tone than before. “It happened to me too once, a long time ago when I was still a novitiate. I left the order for a while.”

“Why?”

“I was considering a very different life… It was wonderful and terrifying. I struggled to know which life God wanted me to choose. I prayed. I looked for signs. In the end, I had to do my best to figure it all out.”

“Well, that there is the difference between us. I no longer care what God wants.”

You found your way to the church that night after work. You were texting Dex when Sister Maggie came and sat beside you with a heavy sigh, the sigh of a woman almost too tired to keep pushing. But that, you realized, was something that set Sister Maggie apart from the other nuns you had met.

She was too stubborn to quit on anyone. And maybe that was why you liked talking to her, because it seemed like she wasn’t quitting on you.

“I thought you’d grown bored of this place.” She offered with a bit of amusement, though she was clearly worn down. “Or that little event scared you away.”

“No.” You chuckled. “He got me good, I’ll admit. And it was strange. But it takes more than a cheap shot to get rid of me.”

“We missed you this morning. Some of the older ladies.. They asked about the ‘sweet young girl who sits outside’.”

“That’s what they call me?” You smiled slightly.

“Well, they just don’t know better.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“How are you today, Y/N?” She asked honestly.

“It has not been my favorite… Work was interesting. We had this raid and it worked, I’m not complaining about that. It’s what I’m supposed to be doing with this job, y’know? But… The guy that gave us the information, I can’t stand him. Honestly, Sister, I hate him. And I don’t like this feeling of having to be around him again.”

“Do you feel the FBI is your calling?”

“I don’t think I have a calling.” You said honestly. “I’ve tried a lot of different things. The assassin I was raised to be, a mercenary, a lawyer, a vigilante, private security, now FBI… I just wanted to help people who needed it, who were stuck under someone else’s thumb. People like me when I was little, with no one willing to protect them. And I have, in a lot of different ways, but I don’t know about my calling.”

“In some aspects, you remind me of Matthew… When he was younger, of course.”

“In a good way?”

She sighed slightly but offered a fond smile, remembering Matt as a child striking a sentimental cord.

“He was always angry, sometimes lost. He always seemed like he was fighting, be it against himself or the city’s darkness when he got older.” She continued, her eyes falling downward as she toyed with her fingers. “But at his core, he had a good heart, up until his end. And I truly believe you do, too.”

You smiled slightly. Maybe Matt was right after all. Maybe you did have your own light.

“What about you, Sister? What’s wearing you down today?”

“There’s a man who… Well, he’s a great many things. Stubborn, mainly, but also defeated. And I can’t seem to find what sparks a want to continue.”

“Is he alone? No friends or family.”

“He’s not. He has both, or had, I suppose. Friends, even a girlfriend. But he doesn’t want them to know where he is.”

“Sounds lonely..”

She hummed in agreement.

“So why not let him rot in his misery alone? If he’s so determined to isolate himself, maybe you should let him.”

“This one, I’m personally responsible for.”

“How so?”

“He grew up here.” She answered simply but there seemed to be something else there, though you didn’t ask.

“Ah… Well, if he’s really choosing this solitude, I’d say just be there for him, best you can be. He’ll probably keep trying to push and seclude himself but if you really feel you have to help him, just keep pushing back. I know that for me, after Matt, I pushed away the only two friends I thought I had in this city... And I thought that hiding behind Billy and Anvil… I thought those things could fix me, spark something in me, but they didn’t. It just made me feel worse until it got to a point where I didn’t want to feel anything. I didn’t want to die per say, but I didn’t wanna live like that anymore. So I buried everything and threw myself into a fight that didn’t really involve me, then I got stuck with this.” You shook the wrist with the brace.

“And how do you feel now?”

“Somewhere in between, I think. Nothing’s perfect and there’s still this hollowness in my chest but… I can talk about him without feeling like I’m suffocating. I realized that I can’t just shut everything off and expect people to stick around. I care about people and I have to kinda take the good with the bad, even when it almost kills me. When it takes a piece of me and buries it hundreds of feet below the city.”

“We all heal in our own ways.”

“Yeah.. Problem was, I didn’t know how to grieve on my own. When I was a kid, we weren’t allowed to grieve. It was either someone came back or they didn’t. As long as you were still standing, you kept moving. And when Elektra died, I had Matt. But then Matt was gone and I went home every night to no one. I didn’t know what else to do other than distract myself. I’ve made mistakes but I’m trying to do better.”

“All we can do is take things one day at a time..” She nodded before she stood. “I truly do enjoy our little chats. Till next time, Y/N.”

“Good night, Sister.”

#ptyy mag #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x yn #daredevil x reader #mcu daredevil #mcu matt murdock #netflix daredevil #matt murdock series #matt murdock s3 #bullseye fic #marvel matt murdock #marvel fanfic #marvel daredevil #marvel bullseye #ben poindexter #poindexter x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x yn #matt x reader #matt x you #matt x yn #matt murdock x vigilante!reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #daredevil angst #daredevil fluff

[amberlynnmurdock]

Aim For My Heart (Part 1)

Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x Reader

Summary: One random morning, she buys him a coffee when the barista gets his order wrong–and ever since, Dex has been entranced.

Genres: light angst in the beginning, fluff, making out

A/N: This first part is all fluff! So I hope you guys like it! This is my first time writing Dex so I hope I got his character right :)

TAGS: @danzer8705 @pcrushinnerd (let me know if you want to be tagged or if I missed you)

credit to the owner of this gif!!!

Drip drip. 

Benjamin Poindexter’s brown eyes shoot open at the annoying sound of his sink’s leaky faucet. 

Drip drip.

He attempts to ignore the sound. He shuts his eyes and readjusts himself in bed. He takes a deep breath. 

Drip drip. 

He’s had enough. He can’t stand it. 

Kicking the sheets off himself, Dex huffs out of bed and stomps to the kitchen to fix the faucet. He rips a paper towel off a roll seamlessly and wipes the nozzle. He waits a moment to see if it works. Hand on his waist, he stares at the nozzle of the faucet, almost daring it to drip again. After 45 seconds, he decides it worked. 

He goes back into his room and crawls into bed. In an instant, he falls back asleep.

***

Another dreadful day. 

He can’t remember when his days started to feel like chores he had to get done. Was it when he was put in an orphanage? Was it when his dreams of becoming a professional pitcher were taken away? Was it when his therapist, Dr. Mercer, the only person who ever understood him, passed away? 

When was it? 

It seemed he was accurate with everything else in his life except when it came to pinpointing an exact moment when it started to fall apart. And it’s been falling apart slowly every day. 

Still—he needs to have coffee to somewhat function. He throws the empty coffee bag out in the trash and turns his hands into fists as he rests them on his clean marble countertop. Why do things like this get under his skin? Something as simple as running out of ground coffee? He looks up and is met with his reflection in the microwave. Sometimes, he can barely recognize himself. 

After a few moments, he decides he’ll have to stop at the corner coffee shop, which he hates to do. He hates being around people. He hates pretending to be normal. He hates that he has to put on an act. He hates the fake smile he gives when he orders his coffee; he hates waiting in line. The anticipation of waiting kills him inside. He hates seeing the barista accidentally spill a little of his coffee on the counter. It takes everything in him to not throw the cup away out of spite. It takes everything in him to not react violently over something so small. 

“You will build your life on pillars of order,” Dr. Mercer had once told him. Pillars of order. Pillars of order. Pillars of order.

He’s trying to be better every day. He tries to follow his code, but it’s so hard without someone to guide him, like a North Star. Even though he doesn’t have that anymore, he still tries to be better. He still tries to act normal. Often though, he wonders if he’ll ever be able to live his life on his own without a guiding light. 

No, he thinks to himself. Because people get hurt. Every time. Including him. Most of all, including him. 

As he takes a sip of his hazelnut coffee, he immediately frowns at the taste. It’s not hazelnut at all—it’s mocha. He hates mocha. And he hates the fact even more that he has to go back inside that dreadful place and order a new coffee—one they will probably charge him again for. 

And of course, the line of people. He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. Was it the people he didn’t like, or the thought of interacting with them? 

After five whole minutes of waiting in line—Nadeem would be on his ass for being late—Dex finally approaches the same barista at the counter who took his order before. As calmly as he can, he forces a smile.

“Hi. I ordered a hazelnut coffee, but I got a mocha instead. Could I please get a new cup?” Dex asks as he tries to ask the question like he hasn’t rehearsed it in his head a thousand times. He slides the cup across the counter. 

The barista, a young man with red hair and freckles, nods and looks at the screen in front of him. He frowns. Dex’s heart plummets in his stomach. 

“I’m so sorry. We just sold our last hazelnut of the day. We can do—“

“He can have mine,” a third voice interjects. The person it comes from is feminine—light, and friendly. Qualities Dex isn’t used to being around. Qualities Dex pretends to have. When he follows the sound of the voice, he meets a young woman standing a few feet beside him. 

She's younger than him, but not by much. She has the most beautiful smile and kindest eyes he’s ever seen. The smoothest, most perfect face. Yes, she’s perfect, he thinks. Perfect to him. He’s speechless as she holds out her cup of hazelnut coffee for him to take. 

“I didn’t drink from it yet if that makes you feel better,” she said sheepishly as she caught him staring at her. 

“Then what will you have?” Dex asks her. 

“I told myself I’d do one kind act today and not expect anything in return. I’m okay. You can have my coffee,” she smiles again, and Dex’s chest feels as warm as the cup in his hand as she hands it to him. Their fingers brush for the smallest of seconds and it’s entrancing to Dex. He smiles at her—not forced at all. She’s already on her way out as she wishes him a good day. He watches as her shrinking figure exits the coffee shop. He doesn’t want this to be the last time he ever sees her. She's the first person to show him an ounce of kindness in a long time. Her hair swayed back and forth as she walked out the door and it flew behind her as the wind came in. She's the most beautiful person he’s seen in a long time. 

And she was so nice to him. That feeling was addictive. 

“Sir?” The young barista called. “I need to take the next guest’s order.”

Dex ignores him, ignores all the people in the coffee shop he pushes past. His gaze is stuck on her path. He follows where she left, her coffee in his hand. He exits the coffee shop. How could she already be gone from his reach?

  He sees her down the block as she makes a right turn. 

Dex isn’t far behind. 

***

The next time he sees her, he owes her a coffee. 

He made sure to get to the coffee shop earlier than normal the next day. He ordered two medium hazelnut coffees from the same barista who had taken his order the previous day. Dex feels lighter in his step—a rare surge of confidence in his entire body. He even decided to wear his FBI bomber jacket. He normally liked to hide what his profession was but thought that maybe it would impress her… and hopefully not scare her. He brushed his dirty blonde hair neatly and even sprayed on cologne. 

He waited at a table near the front and kept an eye on the clock. He had enough time to bring her coffee and make it to work before nine. He watched the door like a hawk, watching carefully as each person entered the shop.

And then finally, she came in. 

She wore a long trench coat and tall boots. Her hair was freshly windblown and she looked slightly flustered, like she was in a rush. Good thing she wouldn’t have to wait in the already growing line to order coffee. 

Dex sees as she audibly sighs at the sight of the line. 

“I owe you a coffee,” Dex calls out confidently as he rises from his seat. She looks over at him, frazzled at first, until recognition settles in her features and she seems to—dare he think—calm down. He’s made her calm down. 

“You don’t,” she says carefully, eyes glancing at the FBI logo on his jacket, “but something tells me if I don’t accept this coffee, you’ll put me on the Most Wanted list.”

Dex laughs—a real laugh—and hands her the cup of coffee. Their fingers brush again. He’s entranced by her touch, again. 

“I could never,” Dex says. “I didn’t get to say thank you for yesterday. So thank you. You have no idea how messed up my day could’ve been without my morning cup.”

“Trust me, I do,” she smiled. “And you’re welcome. And thank you—for my cup today,” she blushed as she fumbled over her words. Dex felt that familiar warm feeling spread through his chest the longer he looked at her. 

“I’m Ben Poindexter… or Dex,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand. She accepts it with ease and shakes his hand. She introduces herself and smiles. Dex repeats her name in his mind to memorization. 

“On your way to work?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” she answers, “late, honestly. But now that I got my coffee early, I can spare a few minutes. Where’s the uh—FBI office?”

“Just a few blocks down. Mind if I walk with you?”

“Not at all,” she smiles. 

Dex holds the door for her and lets her walk out first. He scans the area outside—normally he doesn’t check for threats (like he should) but now he has a reason to make sure the surrounding area is safe. 

They both begin to walk down the block. He matches her steps. 

“What do you do?” Dex asks. 

“I work at a therapist’s office. Client relations—not as daunting as being an FBI agent—is that what you are?”

“Special Agent,” Dex gently corrects. Dex perks when she mentions she works at a therapist’s office. “It’s not as fancy as it sounds, though.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen some shit,” she replies, shivering a little.“I can’t imagine.”

“Yeah, it can get tough,” he sighs, “but you get used to it after a while. Do you like working at the therapist’s office ?”

“I do. You learn a lot about people. I’m not a doctor, but I help where I can.”

“You must have a lot of patience,” Dex muses. He enjoys the cool breeze hitting his face. She looks like she's fighting against it. If the cold weather were a physical being, he’d choke the living life out of it for making her uncomfortable.

“I try to,” she smiles again, crossing her arms across her chest to keep warm. Dex feels a strong urge to wrap his arm around her, but he doesn’t. 

Dex already knows where her work building is—he followed her yesterday up until a certain point. He’s passed his office already. He doesn’t care. As long as he knows she makes it to work safely—he doesn’t care. 

The rest of the walk, they make small talk. Dex doesn’t mind it at all. In fact, the entire time walking, he’s thinking of ways to ask her out on a date. Do I run into her at the coffee shop again? Do I ask her right now? 

Finally, she stops in front of her building. She takes a sip of her hazelnut coffee that Dex bought for her and smiles at him. Dex catches her smile and looks away, almost shy.

“Thank you again for returning the favor, even though you didn’t have to,” she held up her cup in a cheersed way. Dex shrugs, and shakes his head. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly. “Was it a good cup?”

“Yes,” she nods. “Hit the spot.”

If it wasn’t good, Dex thinks he might’ve taken it out of her hands and thrown it against the building. Nothing should ever disappoint her, or not live up to her standards. He’s relieved she enjoyed it. 

“Could I—ask you out for dinner, sometime?” Dex stutters slightly, as he feels his heart pound against his chest. From the way she smiles at his question, it puts him at ease. 

“You could… but are you going to?” She teases, squinting her eyes a little at the handsome blonde FBI agent before her. Dex laughs and looks down sheepishly, before meeting her eyes again. 

“Would you like to have dinner with me this Friday night?” Dex officially asks her, smoothing any nervousness in his voice. Confidence.  

“Yes,” she nods. “I would love to.” Dex can’t help the blush that creeps on his cheeks. She’s holding her coffee as she searches through her bag for her phone. She almost drops the cup before Dex—with lightning reflexes—catches it before gravity can win. 

“Oh my goodness,” she gasps. “I would’ve been so sad if I dropped it! Thank you—again," she breathes. Dex smiles and holds the cup for her as she looks for her phone. 

“It’s no problem,” he says. 

She asks for his phone number and sends him a text so he’ll have her number saved. Dex is impressed by the way she takes the initiative to his contact information. She must really be interested—though definitely not as interested as he is. He feels his phone buzz in his jacket, confirming he received her text. 

“Well, have a good day, Dex,” she says in a sing-song way, a way Dex will never forget. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

***

She wasn’t one to go to someone’s house after a first date, but Dex might be testing that theory for her. 

She’s watching him carefully over the leather-bound menu. Stealing glances and looks every so often as she pretends to look over the list of red wines. Squinting her eyes, studying his face. He’s completely focused on the menu—he almost looks confused as he reads it. It’s a confusing menu because the place Dex chose has four Michelin Stars. She doesn’t mind though. It buys her time to keep looking at him. 

His skin looks soft…but it’s the way his jaw cuts that brings a sort of harshness to his look. No less handsome, however. She’s not sure if it’s because she knows he’s an FBI agent, but his presence is commanding, whether he realizes it or not. Commanding and sweet at the same time. Even the way his hands look strong and have surely held a gun against someone (because isn’t that what FBI agents do?) are now holding the menu so softly… it’s mesmerizing to see such hands that are capable of doing rugged things hold a leather-bound menu so gently. It only makes her wonder what else he could handle with gentleness—or roughness. Whatever she wants. 

“What are you thinking of getting?” Dex asks her, his silky voice bringing her out of her train of thought. She inhales sharply and quickly scans the menu again. 

“I think a glass of cabernet,” she replies, “and the burrata to start?”

“I was thinking the same,” he grins, warm brown eyes looking into hers. She glances away quickly—the way she feels when he looks at her is unsettling by how much she likes it. “You look really beautiful, by the way.”

And of course… he had to make it worse. There was no use in fighting the blush on her cheeks. She smiled. 

“Thank you.”

The waiter took their orders, and Dex watched her carefully as she spoke. She was pleasant. She smiles at the waiter—but not the same kind of smile she gives to him. Dex leans back in the velvet chair and sighs in content. He never thought he would get this far with her. 

When it was finally the two of them, Dex cleared his throat. 

“So, you do client relations at a therapist’s office? What does that exactly mean?”

“I greet them, I bring them into the room before the doctor gets there. I ask them questions and fill out their intake form. I’m basically a glorified receptionist except sometimes I get to ‘play’ therapist,” she explains rather sheepishly. Dex thinks anyone would be lucky enough to be greeted by her. If he were a patient, he’d ask to never see the doctor. 

“Do you want to become one?” He asks with curiosity. 

“I think one day,” she answers. “I like talking to people. Never mind doing it to help—sometimes just a person to talk to is all someone needs.”

Ain’t that the truth, Dex thinks to himself. “I agree. I used to see a therapist myself.”

“Really? There’s no shame in it at all.”

“I know… well. We’ll save that conversation for another time.”

“Have you always been in the FBI? I’m not even sure I know what the requirements or credentials are,” she asks. 

Dex laughs, “It’s a lot of background checks and training before you start. And no, I haven’t always been in the FBI. I was in the army before.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Oh, wow. Thank you for your service. Now I definitely think you’ve seen some shit. And I can see why you’d go to therapy. Why did you stop? You said you used to see one.”

Dex sighs uncomfortably. She picks up on it immediately. 

“Never mind. You said another time. Have you always wanted to be in the FBI?”

Dex smiles a little, appreciative of the way she stopped the conversation about his therapist. 

“I used to want to be a professional baseball pitcher,” he admits. 

“I love that. Do you still play?” 

“Not really,” he says softly. “Other interests came to mind. Life.”

“I know what you mean. Life.”

A comfortable silence falls between them—they catch each other gazing into the other’s eyes and laughing at the same time. Dex can’t remember the last time he felt so enamored with someone, so comfortable and so attracted. He’s grateful for running out of coffee that morning. He’s grateful the barista got his order wrong. Most of all, he’s grateful for the young woman who sits across from him at this restaurant. And he’s grateful for the way she’s smiling at him. 

***

It didn’t take much convincing for her to agree to go to his place after dinner. While she promised herself she wouldn’t let it get too far, she was curious to see where the night would go. Dex held her hand the entire walk back to his apartment. She cuddled against his arm, an attempt to feel more warm. Dex pulled her in closer. 

He lived in a humble building just outside of Hell’s Kitchen. His apartment was even more humble: small, but very nice. White walls. White marble countertop without a spec on it. Everything was in its place from the spices to the napkins. Everything was labeled. His couch was placed perfectly in the middle of the room. Picture frames were all aligned on the walls. He dimmed the lights a little. 

From where she stood, she could see his bedroom door slightly ajar. She caught a glimpse of his bed with white sheets—his bed was perfectly made. From how organized and clean he seemed to be, she thought he would freak out to see her mismatched decorations and colorful bedsheets. 

“This is such a nice place,” she said aloud.

“Thank you. I don’t ever have guests, so I’m sorry if it’s a little boring.”

“Not at all,” she moved to sit in the corner of his gray couch. She placed her bag on the floor, and Dex picked it up to move on the coffee table. 

“It’s better to keep it clean off the floor,” Dex murmured as he sat down next to her with two glasses of red wine. He gave her a soft smile as he handed her a glass, which she gladly accepted. They clinked glasses and took a sip, all while holding each other’s gaze. 

“Can I tell you something?” Dex asks suddenly. 

“Of course.”

“I haven’t done this in a while,” Dex gestures to the two of them. “It takes a lot in me to do this. I—I really wanted to ask you out. And I’m happy you’re here. I just—“ he feels himself breathing fast. It’s an awful habit he has, getting overwhelmed by every little thought in his head. Bring a beautiful girl into the mix—it was a terrible concoction for his mind to handle. His mind won’t allow him to enjoy this pleasure because it’s already thinking of ways it could go wrong. Like she’ll never want to see him again.

“Hey,” she whispered, placing a hand on his knee to calm him down. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out in embarrassment, covering half his face with his hand. 

“Don’t need to be sorry,” she said softly. 

“I just don’t want this to be the last I see of you,” he admits. “I had such a good time at dinner and here you are now—“

“Dex,” she began, “I had an amazing time at dinner with you. Truthfully, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have agreed to come to your place. I’m happy I’m here. If it’s all the same to you, I definitely don’t want this to be the last I see you.”

“Absolutely,” Dex agrees immediately, turning to face her more. “I’m so happy you’re here too. I’m happy you gave me your coffee that morning and it’s led to this.”

She smiles. “Me too.”

Her hand is still on his knee. Dex is reminded of it when he feels that area of his leg getting warmer from her touch. He glances down at her hand on him and memorizes the image. He doesn’t want to imagine too much, imagine her hand slowly trailing up his thigh… 

To stop his thoughts, he places his hand on top of hers and trails his fingers up the length of her arm, until he reaches her neck and brushes his fingers through her hair. He brings her closer to him, some force guiding him with confidence. Her eyes are half closed as he slowly brings her in for a kiss. A kiss. 

He first brushes his lips against hers, almost as a way to ask if this was okay—if the way he was guiding her to him was okay. She doesn’t protest. Dex kisses her softly at first, memorizing the way her lips feel on his. And then he kisses her with a newfound force. She opens her mouth for him to enter his tongue and Dex breathes her in. He places his arms around her waist and lifts her up and into his lap so she’s straddling him on his couch. She has her hands on either side of his face as she kisses him just as passionately, holding him in place. He runs his hands up and down her back, pulling and pushing her to and fro himself. 

He pulls back, breathless, and looks up at her. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, running his hands in disbelief through her hair. “Everything about you is perfect.”

She kisses him again and again. Dex’s heart is pounding like it never has in his chest, so much it hurts, so much he thinks his life depends on kissing her. After a while, he pulls back again. 

“Let me take you home,” Dex whispers in her ear. “I don’t want to get too far, and we’re treading that line.”

She can’t help but laugh, even though she agrees. “Okay. Walk me home.”

Dex holds her hand the entire walk home. When she says they’ve arrived at her apartment building, she kisses Dex one last time and makes him promise he’ll text her as soon as he gets home.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Dex smirks, enamored by the look in her eyes. 

“I do,” she argues, “I do now.” 

“Goodnight,” Dex whispers. 

He watches as she walks into her building and enters the elevator. Dex moves across the street and waits to see which apartment light turns on. When he sees one turn on, he immediately falls into a dark alley and pulls out a mini telescope. 

He found her. And he watches her. Through a small slip of her curtain. He watches as she moves around her kitchen and living room. She changes into a silk robe in her bedroom. 

He stays there for another two hours until she’s turned off the lights and headed to bed. 

“Goodnight,” Dex whispers to her from afar. 

#wilson bethel #benjamin poindexter #ben poindexter #agent poindexter #dex #daredevil #daredevil born again #poindexter x reader #poindexter #ben poindexter x reader #i have no idea how to tag this lol #aim for my heart #bullseye #bullseye x reader

[daredevil-artwork]

Daredevil vs Bullseye by Chris Samnee

#Chris Samnee #bullseye #ben poindexter #matt murdock #daredevil #marvel #art #artwork #marvel comics #marvel universe #the devil of hell's kitchen #marvel superheroes #the man without fear

[drunkonm00nlight]

Wilson Bethel as Benjamin 'Dex' Poindexter

DAREDEVIL

S3.E8 “Upstairs/Downstairs“

#daredevil #benjamin poindexter #ben poindexter #wilson bethel #marveledit

[mordredisacoolname]

DAREDEVIL CHARACTERS AMD WHERE THEY LIKE TO KISS YOU

MALE/GN READER

characters: Matt Foggy Karen Frank Elektra Claire Wesley Dex Rahul

CW: slight suggestive content

MATT- neck. He likes feeling your pulse and warmth on his lips.

FOGGY- cheek and arm, he likes saying he's a gentleman.

KAREN- she likes kissing your nose. It's a cute gesture she prefers.

FRANK- neck. He likes leaving a lot of kisses and marks.

ELEKTRA- your lower stomach and chest. It's very intimate and a lot of space to kiss. She also likes teasing you.

CLAIRE- upper back and spine. She likes surprising you from behind and wrapping her hands around your torso.

WESLEY- lips. He likes holding your face/neck and gently buy deeply kiss you.

DEX- lower back. Kisses you while you lay on your stomach and goes up to your jaw.

RAHUL- lives for forehead kisses. Never fails to do so before work. It's sweet and affectionate.

#male reader #male reader insert #x male reader #daredevil #matt murdock #foggy nelson #karen page #frank castle #the punisher #elektra #claire temple #james wesley #bullseye #ben poindexter #rahul Nadeem #x gn reader #gn reader

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 2758 (chapter 50)

*whispers * "we are so back baby"

50. of first dates and men

"I almost thought I wasn't gonna make it." You admit, placing your arm on Matt's, an action that has become a habit of yours when you two were by yourselves. "Mahoney opened an active investigation, and blah blah blah."

"I feel like you're leaving all the juicy details out." Matt turns his head to your side, smiling. There's an easiness in his step, maybe he feels lighter, maybe it's because you're finally here with him after a long, lonely day in the office; maybe it's because he's so in love that it all seems silly to him.

"Don't be so greedy, Murdock." You slightly nudge his side, spotting the diner that you chose for your date. Far away from the office and Karen, and Foggy, far away from the people you might know. The street you're both walking appears rather noisy, kids kicking around a ball, music playing loudly in someone's house, an old man with a questionable taste in hats is selling tacos, and two girls are arguing at someone's doorstep.

"It's hard to not be when I'm with you." He replies, tuning out the surrounding noise.

You bite away a smile, squeezing his forearm affectionately; upon entering the diner, you're amazed by all the decorations, light bulbs in different colored jars hanging from one wall to another, the big lights dimmed to create a pleasant and cozy atmosphere for the evening, and pleasant soft music playing from the speakers. "Well, we're here."

Matt takes a deep breath, "Smells nice."

You choose the table in the farthest corner, hanging your coat on the chair, and finally sit down. Your feet were already sore from walking on the job in heels the whole day, running from one office to another in the station, but you refused to wear something more comfortable this evening; your dark red silk dress was made to be paired with the black stiletto heels.

**  "Ever played truth or dare?" You ask, cutting your steak. Matt's knife stops and he turns his head to the side, thinking. It was cute how he always tilted his head like a confused dog, as if the action somehow cleared his confusion.

"Uhh, no, I don't think so. Why?" He asks softly. You two have been chatting this and that while waiting for food, so now you wanted to keep the conversation going.

"You... Wanna play?" You bite your lip anxiously, waiting for him to turn down your suggestion and call it childish. "If you don't want, that's okay... I'm just suggesting."

"Yeah, alright, why not?" He chews his salad, thinking for a moment. "When's the last time you played this?"

"Uh... Probably during the last spring break in high school." You chuckle. "Someone dared me to steal handcuffs from my dad."

"Did you?"

"Obviously... Just haven't yet told him that it was me."

Matt smiles, biting the inside of his cheek, and you can't help but look at the way he pokes his tongue out to lick his lips. "Now, I'm not that surprised you agreed to break into Melissa's house."

"Oh, are you throwing shade on me, Murdock?" You exaggerate your fake gasp and grab your chest. The way your fingers slide on your silk dress, makes Matt suck in a sharp breath.

"I'm just, making an assumption... A very late one, too." He nervously fixes his glasses again. "Okay, so, truth or dare?" He leans forward, catching a whiff of your perfume, and picks up the fork once more.

"Let's begin with truth."

"Oh, safe choice, alright. When was your last serious relationship?"

"Checking your chances or...?" You laugh with Matt, but then get a bit more serious. "Well, I only had two of those. One was obviously Robert. Then there was another guy. And after him, I briefly got back with Robert again, but it wasn't serious that second time with him. I wasn't the same person he knew." You take a sip of your wine, continuing, "so yeah, that was at least nine years ago."

"Wow." Matt's eyebrows briefly shoot up above his glasses, lips curling downwards.

"Yeah... So, truth or dare?" You poke a salad with the fork, looking at Matt making a decision.

"I'll go with truth as well." He replies after a long minute, fingers tapping around for the knife.

"What about your past relationships?" You ask, clearing your throat. You had a rough idea of his previous flings, so you weren't surprised when he told you that he's more of a 'one-night stand guy'. It felt weird, on one hand you knew that what you had right now was serious, compared to Matt's relationship record, but it made you somewhat unease, thoughts of you being just one big distraction began creeping into your mind while he was talking. Well, you weren't any different, God knows, you two were made from the same fucked up clay; but it was what it was, and you couldn't change your past. Or Matt's for that matter.

"There was this girl while I was still in college. I think she was the only one I confessed my love to..." Matt quickly clears his throat, cheeks reddening from embarrassment. "Until I met you, of course."

"We're more similar than I thought." You say, averting your eyes from his crouched figure. It was a hard pill to swallow, but it was the truth, hard truth.

He smiles, almost guiltily. The game continues until you're both two glasses of wine in, leaning close to each other, giggling about nothing, daring to kiss each other or ask the waiter to change the radio station. The people around you change quicker than you can get used to the new faces, but you're still there, still lost in each other's perfumes, still holding hands under the table, still very much in love.

*** 

"So, don't you think that there's something between Matt and y/n?" Karen asks out of the blue, and the question knocks all the thoughts out of Foggy's head.

He blinks slowly, "what?", then laughs shortly, "it's a joke, right?"

They're the only one's left in the office before closing time, with you gone to the station since morning, and Matt leaving a bit earlier than usual. Karen presses the START button on the printer and it begins buzzing. "Yeah. No. I mean, I don't know." She shakes her head, blonde hair falling on her face. "Maybe I'm just imagining it, but it seemed strange, the look she gave me yesterday. When we were in the bar." Karen falls silent, realizing that she said too much already.

"What look? Karen, what happened yesterday? I thought we all had a great time together." Foggy stops packing his briefcase and looks at Karen's back, waiting for her to turn around, but she doesn't, still shielding her pink cheeks with her long hair.

"We did, yeah."

"Then what look are you talking about?" Foggy starts catching the train of Karen's thoughts and his eyes slightly widen, "Wait. You're jealous, aren't you?"

"Jealous? Foggy, don't be ridiculous." Karen blows a raspberry, but it's too late, too obvious.

"Karen..." A heavy sigh leaves Foggy's lips, and he comes to the printer, "three things. First, Matt's not the man of serious relationships, trust me, as his long time friend, I know that. Second, we all were pretty drunk last night, so you might've mistaken that 'look' you're talking about with something else, y/n said she was pretty tired, so." He puts a comforting hand on Karen's shoulder, "I just don't think that those two could be a thing. I mean, a couple of months ago they almost fought each other in court, so, don't burden yourself with these things. Or do. But it's my advice to let it go."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." She smiles, still not convinced. Foggy had no reason to lie, but something was telling her that she was right, there was something between you and Matt.

"Wanna go grab a drink?" He tries, expecting a negative answer, so that he could go visit Marci without an ache in his heart.

"Um, no, I still have a few more copies to make." Karen's tone is dismissive as she tries to hide bitterness behind her shy smile.

"Hey, don't stay up late, you know we can't pay for overtime." Foggy leaves with a huge beam on his face, while Karen's face drops as soon as the door closes.

*** 

Your smile. It's so beautiful. So kind and genuine. You laugh at something he says, hiding your lips with your palms, until his hands reach to pull them away from your face, and he kisses your knuckles. You were so beautiful, glowing like an angel in the dark; and so... In love? Dex couldn't tell, simply because he has never had anyone looking at him like that. It was pathetic, what he was feeling right now. Yet he couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to be in that guy's place, to have you look at him with such adoration and affection.

"Is everything alright, sir?" The waitress asks, smiling at Dex warmly. He has barely touched his food, as he was so busy with watching you. But now she was blocking his most precious view.

"Yes, it's good." He lies so terribly that the poor girl has no choice but to leave him alone.

It was a total accident, Dex didn't plan on going out tonight, or any other night for that matter, but Ray was the one to blame. He kept blabbering about this place for a week, so finally Dex decided to check what was so special about it. And when he sat down to look at the menu, he noticed you sitting with a guy in the farthest corner of the diner. At first, Dex thought that he was imagining it, but then he was positive that it was you. Your shoulders and more than half of your back were exposed, your dress was hanging on two slim straps, falling up to your ankles. He couldn't take his eyes off. Dex has only seen you in formal attires, usually a blouse, jacket and a skirt, hair almost always out of your eyes, tied up in a bun, but now, your hair was free from any ties, shining in the dim light.

Dex finally takes a bite of his food, grimacing at the coldness. Maybe he was lost in his head for too long. He notices the movement in the corner of his eye and sees the guy with red tinted glasses stand up and walk behind you, he pushes your hair to the side and puts something around your neck. The guy leans and kisses your cheek, then slowly returns back to his seat. You smile again, and bring him in for a quick kiss, touching the thing on your neck. Dex clenches his jaw, angrily poking the potato with the fork and turns his head away from the sight.

***  "I know that it's way too late now, but I just wanted to give you this." Matt says, pulling a small red box out of his jacket.

At first glance you think that it's a ring box and almost panic, but then he opens it and you notice a silver chain with a cross. An exhale, mixed with surprise leaves your lips; you touch the necklace, slightly confused, "For what?" 

"Well, happy belated birthday," Matt smiles, taking the necklace from its box, "I know that it's... Not really your... Thing... I mean I overheard what you talked about God and all that in church..." Matt quickly gets flustered, and starts stuttering, while you look at him with rising  interest and amusement, "It would mean a lot to me if you decide to wear it. Not that I'm pushing this... Uh... Religion thing or anything."

"Okay. I'll wear it. For you." You answer rapidly, much to his surprise. 

"Thank you for ending my misery here." Matt laughs, and rises from his seat.

"It was pretty terrible." You tease, extending your arm to guide him towards you.

"Ouch."

"I mean... You're losing your attorney skills, Murdock."

"And I still convinced you in a record time." Matt's quick fingers clasp the chain, and he leans to kiss your cheek, returning to his seat like the wind. 

"It's beautiful, thank you, Matt." Your hand touches his, and involuntary you notice freshly bruised knuckles, but keep your mouth shut, at least tonight. 

However, you can't keep it shut entirely and begin the same old conversation about the guy you wish didn't exist in your life. As the waiter brings a tiramisu to share, you look around the diner, failing to notice Dex just by an accident of people walking to get their drinks; poking the corner of the dessert with a teaspoon, you say, "I didn't wanna talk about work tonight, but Paxton told me an interesting thing."

Matt licks the inside of the spoon and raises his eyebrows in question. He already knows what you're about to say, but still pretends to be interested. "Yeah?"

You pull your glance away from his lips, scratching your head, "He said that Daredevil saved him last night. From his friends. That's why I had to spend the whole day in the station, trust me, Mahoney will not be delighted to see me there any time soon, but that's not the point." 

"So, what did he say?" He's itching to know how much did Paxton actually reveal, and to his dismay, the boy didn't hold back.

"I didn't think about until the lunch, but it's been bothering me ever since. He told me that Daredevil not only saved him, but made him promise to call me in the morning." You make a long pause to finally eat a spoon of tiramisu, while Matt feels tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "It wouldn't be as weird in my books if he just saved Paxton, but I keep thinking about it and just can't figure out how he knew about Paxton having a lawyer. He's just a highschooler after all." You shrug slightly, picking up your spoon again. 

"Maybe he has superhearing or something." Matt tries to joke, but your face remains serious.

"Yeah, if this guy has superhearing, then he's supposed to be called a superhero, and if he's a superhero, then I'm Queen of England." You scoff.

"How are you so sceptical? I mean, we live in a world with the Avengers as our next door neighbours." 

"Yes, but we know who they are, don't we? And this guy is hiding behind a mask, so of course, he is nothing more than a criminal doing illegal activities." You notice how sour Matt's face has turned and try to save the sinking ship, "Don't tell me that you're the same as Karen."

"Karen? What's she has to do with Daredevil?" It felt weird, to finally say his other name out loud, weird, yet somewhat satisfying.

"Please, she's always defending him as if somebody's holding her at gunpoint; it was weird at first, but now it's just... Fucking creepy at this point." You take a big sip of wine and add something Matt didn't expect you to say, at least not right now. "While I'm on the Karen topic, then I might as well say this. I think she's terribly in love with you."

A laugh, mixed with a surprised "What" leaves Matt's lips.

"I mean, come on, haven't you noticed the signs? 'Matt, do you want me to read this out loud' and 'Matt, do you want me to walk you home', and let's not forget the 'Matt, where do you want to get lunch', honorable mention being last night at Josie's. I thought she was going to pull you into that dirty bathroom." You finish, amazed at your own bluntness, while Matt meets you with a sly grin and raised eyebrows.

"Are you... Jealous, y/n?" He can't help but ask, biting his lower lip seductively.

"I have a reason to be!" You lean in, and whisper-shout, "you're and your magical charm are attracting everyone in the room."

"You're so attractive when you're jealous." He blurts out unexpectedly, and you both burst out loud laughing, turning a couple of heads around you. Dex swallows his salad like a bitter pill, wishing you and this douchebag date of yours left quicker. 

***  

While one man was enjoying the company of a woman he was deeply in love with, in the presence of a man whose jealousy and insanity were rising with every passing minute, there also was a third man, currenly more thirsty and angry than the previously mentioned two. A man who has lost everything he loved and held close to his heart. A man thirsty for blood and revenge, a man with an impeccable aim and a never-ending arsenal of bullets. The Punisher.

#matt murdock #bound by law #marvel daredevil #foggy nelson #matt murdock x reader #netflix daredevil #lawyers #matts superhearing complicates things for you #daredevil #marvel #frank castle #karen page #daredevil fanfiction #bullseye daredevil #ben poindexter #the punisher

[everythingsf1ne23]

ever since finishing Daredevil, Dex has been my new obsession <33

I would literally die for him, like he’s just so pretty 😍🥹

#wilson bethel #daredevil #daredevil fandom #benjamin poindexter #benjamin dex poindexter #ben poindexter #bullseye #oh I just love him so much!