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#foggy nelson is the true mvp
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Wax Strips (Matt Murdock x Reader)
A/N: This one shot was supposed to be a birthday present for @pastafossa, but in the time before and since their birthday I've gotten COVID, started a new job, and have been exhausted ever since. But, alas, it is finally written.
I haven't written fanfic in a long time. Please be kind.
Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Summary:
Matt prides himself on his memory until he forgets to take the trash out, causing you to learn a new secret.
Word Count: 1,825
Warnings for Chapter: mentions of toxic ex, insecurities, mentions of body hair/waxing
If there was one thing Matt Murdock was, it was precise.  
He wouldn’t have survived this long without it.  After everything he had been through with the accident, after everything he’d been through with Stick to lead to him becoming the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, who would he be if he wasn’t?  
That included his memory. Especially when it came to you.  
He remembered everything about the day you had come into his life. The way he picked up your heartbeat before you entered the building where the Nelson & Murdock office lay. You were old friends with Foggy, and had just moved back to the city.  
He remembered the sound of your footsteps as they pressed against the floor, each beat making his heart pound faster as he wondered who they belonged to.  
He remembered the smell of your perfume as it blew past his nose. Cherries and blossoms, like a fresh summer day brightening up the dark in his mind.  
It was your voice, however, that would be sketched into his soul.  
“And this is Matt Murdock, the second half of this esteemed establishment of course!” Foggy’s excitement about seeing his friend could be heard a mile away.  
“Hello.” Sweet and shy. Beautiful. He knew he needed more.  
“Hello,” said Matt. His voice was out like a whisper in the wind.  
After a moment of silence that was just a moment too long, it was Foggy who groaned in annoyance.  
“I’ll give each of you the other’s number later. Now come on, Matt has work to do and we have a lunch reservation.”  
It took Matt another six months before he even dared to mention his secret, completely surprised when you didn’t turn him in, or even worse, turn and run away. It was another six months after that when you finally moved in with him.  
But living together meant knowing everything- and there was one secret he wasn’t sure he was okay with you knowing yet.  
He had thrown them away in the small trashcan he had kept in the bathroom that the two of you now shared. All of his supplies were tucked safely away.  
That’s when he felt the fingers along his back, their soft pads wrapping around his stomach. It was then he felt your lips, soft kisses across his shoulder.  
You had just gotten back from a week-long work trip and apparently weren’t too keen to see him up this early in the morning.  
“It’s too early Matt, come back to bed.”  
The kisses continued across his back before you slowly turned him around, chasing lips of his own. The way your tongue hit his lips, slowly opening him up to chase the feel of his mouth made a shiver go down his spine. He let you pull him back to bed.  
He meant to throw the trash out of the bathroom, he really did.  
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You sat at the end of Foggy’s couch, nursing the beer in your hand. You knew Foggy was trying to tell you a story, but your mind was elsewhere.  
The sound of Matt leaving the apartment had long faded away when you finally convinced yourself to leave the safety of the warm covers. You padded into the bathroom, content to wash up and relieve yourself when you saw them bunched up in the trash.  
Wax strips.  
What was Matt doing with wax strips? You didn’t use them, that was for sure. Why would Matt? The pouring of thoughts started breaking through, and suddenly all you could do was wonder what had gone on in the apartment in the week you had been gone.  
“You okay?”  
“Hmm?”  
“Considering I finished my story, and you’ve been silent, I can only assume your mind is somewhere else,” said Foggy.  
“Sorry, Fogs, I just...”  
“What is it?”  
“Is Matt cheating on me?” you asked. The words were out before you could even blink.  
“What? What in the world are you talking about?” 
“I know you heard me, Foggy.”  
“Which is why I’m concerned. Do you know how long I’ve known Matt? I’ve never seen him more in love than he is now. Why on earth would you think he’s cheating on you?” He took a sip of his beer, his eyebrows scrunched in his own confusion.  
“I found wax strips in the bathroom trash!”  
And suddenly your face was spattered with beer as the only sounds you could hear were the one of Foggy’s laughter. You wiped your face, annoyed.  
“It’s not funny, Foggy! I don’t use wax strips!” You threw a pillow at his head.  
“Okay, one, rude with the pillow. Two. I know you don’t use wax strips. I can’t believe he’s still doing this, but they’re Matt’s.”  
And that’s when he told you.  
Matt had his fair share of ladies in college, but there was one girl, even before Elektra, that had done a number of him. One look at him without a shirt was all it took for her to dump him, and why?  
Cause he had chest hair. 
And she thought it was gross.  
Ever since then, Matt Murdock had a wax strip budget. He waxed his chest regularly, and never let another girl close enough to tell.  
As Foggy finished his story, all you could think about was one thing.  
Someone had hurt the love of your life so much that he felt like he couldn’t be honest with you. He felt like he had to change himself, as if anything different would make you run away. Finding out he was Daredevil was one thing, but you were finding yourself feeling different about this.  
Someone had hurt Matt’s heart, and that wasn’t okay with you.  
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You were sitting on the couch reading a book when he came home. The clang of the roof door echoed as he ran down the stairs and into the bathroom.  
“You okay?” you called out, head not looking up from the page you were, at this point, pretending to read.  
“Needed to pee!” The sound of the toilet flushing echoed throughout the apartment as you waited. You knew him too well.  
“Fuck.”  
There it is.  
More time passed before Matt slowly emerged from the bathroom, devil suit in hand as he now wore the t-shirt and sweats he sometimes kept in the bathroom. He threw the suit into the trunk before slowly turning to you, your head still looking at the book.  
“Sweetheart?”  
“Hmm?”  
“Did you, um, did you take the trash out?”  
“Yes, when I got home tonight.” You closed the book, finally looking up at him. “Is there a problem?”  
“No, no, it’s fine. I just, um.”  
In a way, this was fun. You hadn’t seen Matt flustered like this since the day he had first asked you to dinner. That being said, he was flustered for the wrong reasons.  
“What is it, Matt?”  
“You saw-.”  
“The wax strips, yes.”  
Matt stood there looking like a deer in the headlights. His eyes moved around quickly, and you knew what he was doing. He was trying to read you. But you knew he wouldn’t find what he was looking for. He wasn’t going to find the disgust.  
“Come here? Please?” You reached your arm out to him and waited, like trying to lure an abused pet into trusting you. Hell, maybe that’s what you were doing to an extent. He eventually took your hand, sitting on the other end of the couch. Before he could say anything, you crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.  
The stiffness in his shoulders bled out in a near instant as he buried his head in your neck. You took your time, softly scratching your nails down his back as you just breathed with him.  
Eventually, you pulled back, taking his head in your hands.  
“I’m sorry, Matty.”  
“Sweetheart-”  
“No, let me finish.”  
His jaw snapped shut with an audible click.  
“I’m sorry that that stupid girl back then made you feel like this. But I’m even more sorry that I made you feel like this was something you needed to hide.”  
“You’re not, you didn’t, I... it doesn’t gross you out?” asked Matt. You could feel the worry simmer off his chest as if one wrong word from him would have you packing.  
“No, Matt, of course, it doesn’t. And even if it did, I would never ask you to shave or wax for me. Your body is natural. Chest hair is natural. You shouldn’t feel like you need to change it for anyone!”  
Matt dipped his head forward, giving you the perfect angle to place a kiss on his forehead. He let out a breath, each word shakier than the next as he spoke.  
“She told me it was gross. That just, that just looking at it made her want to vomit. I had never even given a thought to my chest hair before then. I didn’t think I had to. How does it not gross you out?”  
“Matthew Murdock, tell me, if I were to suddenly stop shaving my legs, would that gross you out? Would you tell me I needed to shave them or you’d leave me?”  
The silence spoke louder than words.  
“Exactly.”  
Matt let out a sigh, a soft thud could be heard as his back hit the couch. It wasn’t hard to understand that he still wasn’t sure.  
You took his chin in your hands, turning his head so you could give him a kiss. It still made you feel like you were floating on air the way he would automatically open himself to you in a moment like this. You pulled back gently.  
“Listen, I’m not saying you need to change anything that you don’t want to right now. It’s your body.” He shuddered as he could feel the breath of each word hit his lips. “I’m just saying that if you did want to? I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”  
You kissed him again, tracing your thumb against this jaw before breaking the kiss. He softly spoke. 
“Okay.”  
It was only a few weeks later when you walked into the bathroom as Matt was getting ready. He stood up from where he was rinsing his face and faced you, causing you to freeze in your path.  
Matt’s hairy chest.  
He’d apparently stopped waxing, cause low and behold your boyfriend stood in front of you, his hairy chest right there for you to see.  
It couldn’t have made you happier.  
“Good morning,” said Matt. The nerves could be heard as he waited for any sort of reaction from you.  
In an instant, your arms were around him. You rubbed your cheek against his chest as you buried your head into him. The little hairs tickled your face, feeling lovely as you pressed a kiss into his sternum. You looked up, placing a kiss on his chin.  
“Good morning.”  
The smile on his face was all you needed.  
A/N: Feedback/comments always appreciated! I tried proofreading this the best I could! Feel free to let me know if I missed something.
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courtforshort15 · 2 years
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Claire Temple is basically the Phil Coulson of the Netflix Marvel shows and I will not consider any other opinion regarding this matter
Thank you
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courtforshort15 · 2 years
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They named their kids after the Roosevelts
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