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#matt and elektra
paanmoxi · 9 months
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MATTELEKTRA BRAINRIOT !!!!!!!!!!
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shedaresthedevil · 2 years
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The little roll on his hip from the motion as he turns them over? ✨🥺✨
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tvshowscouples · 3 months
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If you love Matt&Elektra (Daredevil) and you want reblog or like,this is the link of my reblog couples :)
thank you!
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marvelous-alexa · 7 months
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youtube
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marveldaily · 3 months
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The Defenders The Defenders | 1.08
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mattmurdeaux · 2 years
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#MATT MURDOCK: I'm a really good kisser 💋
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ellieswr1d · 3 months
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mathew michael murdock pictures
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marveladdicts · 2 months
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"You hide from yourself. You don't let anyone in."
"You. I let you in. Think about it. What if this isn't the end? What if it's just the beginning?"
Happy Valentine's day
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chasing-the-storm · 2 months
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THIS SCENE
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lesbiandardevil · 6 months
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decided to pile up some super old bangers in one post just so i can have more art here (do click on them for quality because eh m...)
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zellmurdock · 4 months
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Daredevil // Matt Murdock, certainly the character with the deepest background story from all Marvel Heroes ❤️
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linusbenjamin · 8 months
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You love New York. And I'd give my life for it, but there's one thing in this world that makes me feel more alive. And that's you.
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robntunney · 4 months
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DAREDEVIL (2003) dir. Mark Steven Johnson
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mattmurdockships · 13 days
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MATTELEKTRA talking about having kids
Daredevil S02E05, 'Kinbaku'
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farfromstrange · 6 months
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Is It Over Now? | Matt Murdock x Reader
Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader ; (hinted) Frank Castle x Reader ; Elektra Natchios x Matt Murdock
Summary: Matt cheated on you, and you are trying to navigate through it.
Warnings: Angst, no happy ending, break-up, mention of cheating, song references (Taylor Swift), inspired by 'Is It Over Now?', (some) Matt "slander", (somewhat) suicidal thoughts, alcohol consumptions, hint at smut
Word Count: 1.7k
A/n: 1989 TV came out and I am losing my shit. Is It Over Now? Is my new favorite song and I just had a brain fart that made this. You can read this if you're a Swiftie and catch the references or just read it without listening to the song. It works either way.
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It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
To be fair, there was a time when you thought it would never end. The thought of ever having a last kiss with him would have killed you back then. 
He told you that you were the love of his life. You believed him. He was yours, certainly. You can’t deny that.
You were happy, you laughed and cried together, and part of you figured that if you ever broke up, you would find a way to work through it somehow. 
Maybe in another universe, you are still together. Maybe in another universe, you two are still friends. Maybe in another universe, you never had to lose each other.
In this reality though—in this brutal, unforgivable reality—everything changed in a matter of a day. And there is nothing you can do about it now.
Your flower was withering in secret, and you didn’t realize what it was doing to you. Every time you woke up alone, every canceled date, every time he called you and told you he wouldn’t make it home tonight, it was sure to build up to this. 
But this, whatever the hell this is, it hurts beyond compare. 
He said you were a rose, but now that you look in the mirror, you only see a rotten mess.
The past few months have done this to you. He has done this to you. The paper airplanes crashed and burned. There is nothing left but pure bitterness and this hatred you have toward yourself and him; you just want to land your fist in his face, and then maybe your own because how could he hurt you like that after making you love him so very much? 
You loved him so much, but now you doubt he ever loved you back. 
Date after date, coffee after coffee, nights spent together on his couch and in his bed, sharing laughter, sharing tears, it all feels like a hoax now. 
You held him when he was unconscious, stitched him up and told him he was going to be okay. Where was he when you were bleeding out from your own battles? You wonder.
His smile used to be your safe haven, the epitome of innocence and strength, but now it only makes you angry. It makes you resent him. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t, but you still do.
So much has changed, and all it took was one day. 
One day. 
Three hundred days, all wasted in one. 
If you think about it, you spent almost an entire year attached to each other’s side. You moved in together. You kissed, you had sex, you shared secrets you wouldn’t have told anyone else. You helped him hide away from the world, from his enemies, made the world go quiet, and comforted him while he cried. You waited up, you worried, and you almost lost him more times than you can count, and you still stayed.
When no one else would take a chance on him, when he felt everyone was against him and going to leave him, you acted as his rock. You stayed.
You thought he was the one. 
And then it just… ended. 
You gave him the benefit of the doubt when you found her in his dress shirt on his leather couch. The very same couch you two often shared passionate nights on, but at the same time it used to be a symbol of so much more than that.
You let him explain. He explained that she got seriously hurt after showing up out of nowhere, and he just wanted to help without putting you at risk. You believed him because that is the kind of man he was in your head. He was going through some things, things you couldn’t possibly understand, and she was the connection. You tried to understand. In the process of understanding him though, you lost yourself. 
That is something you will never forgive him for. Making you care, making you love him, and unintentionally making you give up on yourself while he continued to break your heart.
You never wanted this to end, never wanted him to go, but in the end, it was the only way. Sticking around wasn’t an option anymore, you have to remind yourself.
He did the one thing he promised he would never do. He broke your heart and your trust into a million pieces that you are now left to pick up on your own. 
You didn’t want to see it before. You were too in love to open your eyes.
He wouldn’t do such a thing, right? You remember repeating that to yourself, to your friends, to Foggy and Karen, but Karen saw him with her, too, and she gave you little hope.
Still, you believed in him. You believed in his morale and his faith. You had faith in him, not even in God but in him and the man he pretended to be—and somehow, he still picked up the knife when you weren’t looking and buried it in your back. 
There were so many signs, but you were blind. So many flashing lights. Red flags. Screaming voices in the back of your head begging you to think. You were in a forest full of trees, yet you saw nothing.
When you came home to find his lips on hers, that’s when you knew. Too little, too late.
He called your name. He told you, “This isn’t what it looks like!” But you lost count of the times he used the same line in relation to her.
To anything, really. He always knew how to talk his way out of something when you were together, although back then, it was mostly harmless.
“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. “And you turned right back around and fucked her!”
“It was just a kiss,” he argued. 
“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”
“No,” Matt was adamant because he could hear your heart breaking.
The way you spoke to him was so eerily quiet. That was how he knew he lost you, and he tried to fix it with nothing but his hands. 
But that is not how you fix a broken vase. That’s how you make it worse and hurt yourself in the process.
You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said. 
“No. Fuck you, Matt!”
You tore the necklace with his initial off your neck and tossed it at his feet. You couldn’t even look at it. You wonder what happened to it after he picked it up. 
“I trusted you. I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I was there when no one else was, and this is how you repay me?” you said.
You should have never let him fool you.
At least you had the decency to keep your lonely nights to yourself.
“Sweetheart, please,” Matt tried to beg again. 
You wouldn’t let him. Thank God you were strong enough to withstand the tears in his eyes. 
“You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock,” was one of the last things you said to him. “I wish we’d never met.”
Three hundred days. You fell in love. You finally knew what love felt like, and then…then he turned around and fucked it all up. 
“We’re done.”
Some days, you still regret it, but if it was so easy for him to toss all this time together down the drain, he probably wasn’t worth it. 
But God, you were so in love. 
Sweet nothings whispered in your ear are gone now. You’re all alone in your bed. No one to cuddle, no one to touch. It has been a while since you heard someone say, “I love you,” and mean it. You felt loved until you didn’t. Until the life he led ate him up. 
Instead of talking, instead of fighting with you, he drove you into a tree. A car that didn’t need sight, and still he crashed. It was winter then, the snow painted red by the blood of your broken heart. Your favorite dress torn up as you tried to escape. He reached for you the same way you reached for him, but you weren’t there. And he wasn’t there when you needed him most.
Part of you feels bad. You could have worked through this if he hadn’t kissed her. Or maybe you wouldn’t have. In the end, it killed you. It killed him. 
You killed each other. 
Though there are still days when you think about jumping off of very high somethings just to get his attention. Just for him to see you. To come to rescue you. It is a hurtful and selfish thought. Yet, you can’t help it. 
He was your first true love. 
Your mind keeps repeating the same sentence: It wasn’t supposed to end like this. 
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he told you once. 
He searched for something greater in the bed of someone he loved before. You weren’t his first love. You should have known he would say that and not mean it.
But when exactly did you go wrong?
Was it over when he stopped coming home at night? Was it over when he forgot your anniversary? Was it over when he canceled your birthday dinner? Or was it over when he shoved his throat down his ex-girlfriend’s throat in front of you and acted as if it didn’t matter? Was it over then?
“Another one for the lady,” a voice pipes up beside you. 
Your empty glass of tequila disappears, now replaced by a full one. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on. 
“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger. 
“Nah, don’t thank me.” He sits down next to you. “You look miserable.”
“What if I am?”
“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”
You huff but offer the stranger your hand with a mention of your name.
He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”
“Nice to meet you,” you say. 
Broken people make bad decisions, but whether it was over when he took her right there on his couch, or it was over when you told him it was doesn’t matter. 
It is over now, and all you want to do is forget. 
You need to forget Matt Murdock. 
And if this stranger called Frank needs to unbutton your blouse to help you do so, you will gladly follow him home. 
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Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @ravenclaw617
(also, I keep tagging you in stuff, but I also think you might like this @blackshadowswriter)
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