#matt murdock x reader angst

[peterman-spideyparker]

my tears ricochet (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader) 1/5

Author’s Note: Hi! This is technically a combination of two ideas--one that I've had for a bit written in my idea notebook, and another I got about a week ago (mildly induced by me watching Gossip Girl for the first time despite knowing all of the major plot points). I don't usually do angst, but boy is it here in this series. Enjoy, and I apologize in advance if I make anyone sad.

Summary: You and Matt Murdock come from different worlds: Matt, the son of a prize boxer from Hell’s Kitchen, you the daughter of a clothing designer and doctor on Park Ave. Meeting in law school was just chance, just was much as you falling for your friend. But fate had different paths for the two of you that pulled you apart, and you felt pain with each tear. Now, just over ten years later, you two meet again by chance, and everything and nothing has changed.

Warnings: Angst, unresolved feelings, lingering love and fondness, canon-typical arguments, language, mentions of death (reader is a widow)

Other Characters: Elektra Natchios

Word Count: 1,807

To say that Matt was annoyed with Elektra was an understatement. Pulling him away from a date was one thing, but pulling him away from a date to go to a ritzy gala? He was pissed. Maybe he wouldn’t mind it if he liked that kind of stuff, but he absolutely hates large crowds, people pretending to be things they’re not to look better than others. It’s just a place for the upper crust to brag. One of these things was the reason that he met Elektra in the first place; while their relationship had its moments in college, that is a moment he repeatedly visits in his mind with regret. There was absolutely no reason for Foggy and him to be there at that event—they were just two stupid college kids crashing a party, and it changed the course of his life. 

Even though Elektra made sure to get him a soft tux, it still felt like it was suffocating him. It was too much, and it was only adding to his discomfort and annoyance. He knows there’s a mission to focus on, but he can’t keep his mind on track. Matt half-listens to the plan Elektra is talking at him about as they stand with champagne flutes in hand, and just as she slips away into the crowd, he hones in on something that has to be a mistake. He puts down his untouched drink on a tray, slowly tapping over toward what has to be an anger-endured hallucination. But as he gets closer had he picks up a familiar scent, he knows he’s not imagining anything. Oh God, he’d never forget that smell. How could he the it’s attached to every memory he has of you?

“Angel,” he breathes. 

He can tell that it catches you off guard by how your posture changes, how your heart skips, and how your breathing increases. You turn slowly and Matt can sense how your eyes widen softly in surprise and something more. Matt listens to your heart flutter like a hummingbird’s as you try to keep calm and dull your buzzing senses.

“Matty,” you breathes, color rushing to your cheeks. His name sounds like honey dripping from your lips. He’s missed that sound. He’s missed you. So, so much. You clear your throat to regain your composure. “What a surprise. It’s lovely to see you here.”

“(Y/N/N),” he murmurs. Matt is simply shocked by meeting you here after ten years—he doesn’t believe his senses that it’s actually you. But it is. 

“Please,” you whisper, mildly embarrassed and suddenly very conscious of yourself as you dip your head and smooth your gown. “No one has called me that in years. (Y/N) is fine.” You sound as if you’re going to cry from nerves—definitely not how you had been just a minute earlier speaking with someone in the crowd. It might slip past someone else, but not Matt. He knows you, no matter how long you’ve been apart.

Matt’s face shifts from surprise to something he can tell you can’t quite put your finger on. “You . . . How have you been? I mean, I’d assume well judging by the scale of tonight and your role in it all.”

“‘Well’ isn’t the word I’d use to describe it.”

His brows furrow. “C’mon, (Y/N/N). Everyone that’s here is because of you and the work you’ve done. This . . . This is more than you could’ve ever dreamed of when we were at Columbia. You’re doing more than Foggy and I could hope to achieve in our entire career.”

“‘Well’ isn’t happy.”

“You’re not happy?”

You give him a sad smile. “I fit into the mold of the perfect Upper East Side darling: went to private schools, society debut, got my degree, worked to established a successful career, got married. Unlike my fellow wives of the Upper East Side, though, my marriage ended in death instead of divorce. Besides, this isn’t anywhere near the work I hoped I’d be doing. ‘Well’ is just a mask I have the burden of putting on everyday.”

Matt’s eyebrows pull down, his heart sinking to his stomach. “You’re not happy,” he breathes softly, pain and sadness painted all over his face.

“I’m not,” you admit, holding back tears to save face. “I haven’t been in years. We talked about it at Columbia—this life wasn’t what I wanted. I was naive to think I could have anything different. But at some point . . . My happiness stopped mattering. It wasn’t important. I just needed to become the woman I was expected to be, and I did.”

“Angel.” He moistens his lips. “Your happiness does matter. When you’re happy . . . (Y/N/N), it lights up the people around you. It’s infectious, it’s like sunshine, it’s . . . It’s why I fell in love with you in law school.”

That sentence is a knife to the heart, and the slight shift in your stance tells Matt that he knows what he just did was not the best move.

“It’s a shame it wasn’t enough to keep us together, then.”

Your words kill him, but no matter how they hurt, he knows they’re true. “(Y/N/N)—.”

“Do you know when I first fell in love with you, Matt?” He just looks at you as he holds on to his cane. Nervous. Fragile, even. “Two weeks in, fall semester, first year of Columbia. We were studying in the library, and it was late. You could tell I was losing steam and giving up, and you took my mind off things and cheered me up by balancing a ruler on that huge, beautiful nose of yours like a goddamn otter. The way you smiled when I laughed . . . That man who had a passion for the law, wanted to help those that needed it most, fiercely loyal, he’s who I fell in love with. He’s who I thought would stand beside me through anything. He just never felt the same, no matter much I wished he did.” That salt Matt tastes in the air tells him that you desperately want to cry right there in the middle of the party no matter who is around, but you catch the eye of someone else in the room—a silent savior in the conversation. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go mingle with guests. It was lovely to see you tonight, Matthew.”

“(Y/N/N), wait, please—.”

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

Matt’s frozen as he listens to you walk away, interacting with the people at the party as if your conversation never happened. He feels a hand rest on his shoulder before it slowly runs down his arm and hooks in the crook of his elbow. 

“We need to go,” Elektra whispers. “Now.”

Gently tugging him along, Matt feels like he’s having an out of body experience. He doesn’t want to leave, not with you here, not when every fiber in his being is telling him to stay and catch up, talk, try and fix what was lost—what he broke—during your last year at Columbia. Unfortunately, his shock and awe at seeing you again is perfect for Elektra to use to drag him out of the building and into the car waiting for them, giving the driver a new address. 

“Well, I was only able to recover part of the files, thanks to someone getting distracted. But, I read some notes on a desk calendar, and the portion of the files that we really need are—.”

“Did you know this was (Y/N)’s company’s party? Did—.” His blood runs cold at the thought that crosses his mind. “Does she know what she’s involved in?”

“She’s not involved at all. One of the charities that her company supports is involved—someone higher than her has their signature all over the paperwork. She is in the dark.”

“Then we need to protect her. We—.”

“The best way to protect her is to take down the Hand. She’s fine, Matthew.”

“No, she’s not. (Y/N/N) . . . Tonight, she was like a ghost of the woman I knew in law school,” Matt tells Elektra. 

“She’s fine.”

“She’s not.”

“She made choices and is living with them. She’s fine.”

He feels shell shocked. Everything is telling him that that couldn’t have been you, even though all signs point to yes. “Those weren’t her choices. I could’ve been there for her—I should’ve been there for her to tell her that what she wanted was important and mattered more than what her parents thought. I . . .” He hangs his head in shame. “I let myself get distracted by something that didn’t matter.”

“Matthew—.”

“Her life could’ve been so different if I stayed with her. My life could’ve been different.”

“It would have been a life you hate. When you have someone like that . . . it doesn’t matter what you do. Their status will take precedence. Any life different than that that tries to mesh with it . . . It would go up in flames, no matter how hard one tries.”

“I could’ve made her happy, Elektra. I could have at least made sure that she was okay all these years, something. But I abandoned her. And I never told her why.”

“It’s not like she didn’t land on her feet. Besides, it never would have worked between you two.”

There’s something different in her voice that Matt can’t quite put his finger on, but it fills him with rage.

“You don’t know her like I do—did. We would have made it work, we could have done it. Status be damned, she—.”

“Your big heart is blinding you more than you already are. You don’t get it. It’s not just her social standing. You’re too different personality wise. Do you really think she could handle what you do in your spare time? Don’t you think that would shatter her, tear you two apart?”

“She’s part of the reason I started doing this!” Matt snaps. “She . . . Having any kind of relationship doing what I do is difficult. It wouldn’t matter if she was completely in the dark or out with me every night. (Y/N) would stay. It would work with us. I know it. She wouldn’t give up on me.”

He senses Elektra’s 180 shift in her demeanor. “Fine. You can have your movie moment with her, but you finish this with me first.“ She shifts in her seat. “I’m telling you it won’t last. You say I don’t know her, but I do, Matthew. And she will leave you broken because she never will be able to accept all of you.”

“You know, maybe she wouldn't. Maybe it wouldn’t last. But I wouldn’t forgive myself if I never tried to repair that bridge.”

“Your heart will always be your Kryptonite, Matthew. Mark my words.”

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Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

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#matt murdock #Matt Murdock x reader #Matt Murdock angst #Matt Murdock x fem!reader #Matt Murdock x fem!reader angst #Matt Murdock x reader angst #Matt Murdock fanfic #Matt Murdock fanfiction #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil x reader angst #daredevil x fem!reader #daredevil x fem!reader angst #daredevil angst #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil disney+ #daredevil netflix #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fic

[thenotsoholyspirit]

Holding

Matt murdock x reader (angst)

Summary: "Maybe, after all, my insecurities were right"

(Note: This is my first little writing idea. I hope you like it as I'll try my best to test some more ❤️✨️. Also, a bit of a warning for some self depricating thoughts)

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡

Another night.

Another night of longingly looking at the window.

I sigh as I look by the curtains of the living room, only being able to wonder where he could've gone. Even at night, I'm used to leaving them open to see if his coming. It's so late, I can already dicern a lighter tone of blue in the sky.

"Where are you, Matt?"

It was true that this last month have mostly been made of bickering and side comments. Me complaining about our lack of time and him of my lack of understanding.

Now, our routine is one of him disappearing at dusk only to come back the next morning without a single word. Barely having some time to grab a bite and put his lawyer suit on.

Not a kiss, not a soft touch, not a single loving word.

I still need you

Suddenly, I hear a noise by the window. I immediately recognize the sound of limping steps and a breathless voice. Matt was injured. Something that I've learned living with the devil of Hell kitchen himself is to recognize even the smallest of details. My abilities were far from the super sensed ones he had, but I've become quite good at spotting certain things.

Always so stubborn that I had to figure out myself when something was wrong .

"Dont worry," he used to say, trying to tuck me back into bed. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

"Don't be ridiculous, Matt," I never accepted. Not when I knew he never admitted he needed help. "Here, I'll grab some bandages"

Depending on the night, it was either a simple cut or some deeper wound. Once or twice, I even had to use some homemade anesthesia to sew some stitches. This man has made me feel all sort of fears all at once.

Yet, nothing prepared me for what I was about to feel tonight.

I go open the window only to find a half conscious Matt standing there. His costume scratched on the surface with multiple cuts all over his body. I come closer to him, only for my fingers to be stained as I touch his arm. Blood.

He was bleeding, and he looked surprised to notice me there.

"(Y/n) I-.. You're awake.."

With all my force, I help him walk him across the door until we reach the couch. He's barely able to mumble as I lay him down.

"Shs..," I carefully take off his mask. The first thing I notice are his lost eyes, guilt written all over his face, "Don't push yourself too hard"

I start to undress his torso to get a better look. I had to hold my breath. I'm barely a veterinarian, used to dealing with cats or any domestic animals, but I did know more than enough about human anatomy to notice this was pretty bad. Besides cuts that, thankfully, weren't that deep, It looked like a dard was shot across his dorsal.

"We need to call an ambulance I-"

But Matt stops me, holding my arm.

"Dont.. I-"He tries to stand up by himself, grinding his teeth from pain, "I... "

He drags himself to the other side of the room, where his phone was forgotten last night. I'm confused for a moment until I perceive another shadow perking by the window. It was a woman

I feel a pit in my stomach as I try to understand what is happening here.

"You only came here for....."

I could see the pain in his eyes. I have no words as I come closer to his side now, noticing the small traces of love bites in his neck. Even the smell of his skin felt almost foreign. His body estranged. My heart stops for a moment.

"Sweetheart is not what -"

"What's..whats her name ?"

I hear him slightly gulping, without a single word.

"What's her name, Matthew"

Even if I know he can't see me, I know he can hear my heart beating a thousand miles an hour. He tries to explain bowing his head down.

"It's not..its not what you think... Elektra she...the..Hand..I"

I can only blankly stare at him. He didn't even try to contest my accusation. I feel the first rays of sunshine raising down the window.

"All this time.. I.. tried to be understanding..to be good.."

I start to pace around the room. Not knowing exactly what to say. What think.

What am I even supposed to feel here

"All this time.. - ", I have to stare again at his neck. The mark of infidelity is so horribly noticeable that I feel like throwing up, " All these nights of worry for you to..to do this.."

The little voice in my head speaks again.

I have enough

He tries to approach me, reaching my hand the same timid way he did that time I discovered his double life. He looked so lost , almost guilty. I'd later understand how guilt was ghost in Murdock's life, but at that moment, all I was able to think was to keep him in my arms. To hold him so hard

But I can't do that now. Not tonight.

"You.. you have to go...", I feel the tears rising in my eyes.

"(Y/n) I swear I can-

"Just go!"

I raise my voice a tone as I pull my arm away. I can only think of those sleepless nights, staring at window feeling alone. Feeling abandoned. Maybe it was unfair to think that way, but I never wanted to complain.

I have been so good

I just wanted to be by his side.

Matt seems to want to say something, but he only bites his lips as he deeply breathes. He was still physically hurt after all.

"Im sorry," he can only murmur as he swiftly takes his mask back on, turning away, "Im sorry, sweetheart"

He disappears again through the balcony, alongside the other girl. I see her helping him move, wrapping her arms around him. That's when I finally understand. I'll never be a part of that world, and maybe, just maybe, my insecurities were right.

I wasn't enough for the devil of Hells kitchen.

I look up again. The sun had now completely risen, shining the beautiful blue sky of a new day. I come closer to the window, giving a long view to the city.

He won't be here tonight.

I close the curtains before turning off the living room lights.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader angst #marvel x reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x reader angst

[cuddly-dean-baby]

The Lawyers

Pairing: Matt Murdock x GN!Reader

Words: 667

PART 2 // PART 3

A/N: this can be read as either male or female or whatever, so that’s why i have the male reader tag

A/N 2: it's Jennifer that Matt cheats on you with

You knew where he was.

You knew he wasn’t out doing his crime fighting.

You knew he was with her.

He said he can have a game of pool and a drink with you, Foggy and Karen. After that, he went off, having you think he’s doing his ‘other job’.

When you left the bar after 2am, you stumbled a little down the street and into Matt’s apartment. You noticed that he hasn’t come home yet, so you stayed on the couch and had a small nap.

It was rather early in the morning; 7:36am to be exact. You were seated on the couch after being up for an hour or two. Your body shivered a bit as warmth came from the mug of tea that’s sandwiched between your hands.

With the time you’ve been up, you have come to realize that Matt wasn’t doing his ‘other job’. He was with her; so you had packed your things into the bags and boxes you found, messaged Foggy and Karen half an hour ago, and waited for your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend to come back.

Getting up from the couch and to the kitchen, you drank the rest of your tea before quickly washing it and putting it in the rack.

Once it released from your hand, you felt arms wrap around your waist and a head resting against your back, snuggling into your warmth.

Matt smiled, loving how your body is against his. His smile grows big as he feels your hands interlace with his, but his smile fades slowly as he feels you peel him away from you.

He stands where he is as you wiggle away from his body and the counter. “Are you okay?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Honestly, I would if you came home with cuts, bruises and blood covering you.”

Tilting his head more in confusion, you had to remind him of what happened the previous night. “We all went to Josie’s after work, you left after a game and drink to do your night job. In case you forgot, you usually come home with some sort of wound.”

Sighing, he tries to reach out to you, but he hears your feet move you back. 

“You were with her.”

“I-”

“I know you were with her.”

“I- I had to help her with some paperwork.”

Chuckling softly, tears blurred your eyesight. You look away from him as if you didn’t want him to see. “Foggy and Karen are gonna be here in a few minutes to get my things. I’ve already packed.”

“Baby-”

“Nope, no baby. I’m done. I’m out. You can have her here since you most likely fucked her in the bed and every other surface in the apartment.”

He hears you walk away to the coffee table and the jingle of your keys. A minute or so passes to have you come closer to him. 

Guiding his hand up, he feels the cold metal of your apartment key. “I love you, Matt.” Now it’s his turn to have tears in his eyes. “I’ll never stop loving you, but I know you’ll go back to her.”

As soon as you gently bump your forehead against his, tears and small sobs escape from him. He feels the small pressure of your lips against his. He tries to pour all his love into it as his hands grip the sides of your hoodie, but the kiss breaks too soon.

“Bye, Matt.”

He notices his hands are now free as he tried to grab more of you, but you weren't there anymore.

He tried to blur out any other noise as he tried to find your heartbeat, but it was gone. He didn’t care that tears were streaming down his face as he falls to the ground and sobs were escaping from his body.

Amongst that, he managed to hear a heartbeat, but he recognises it wasn’t yours. It was the woman who he spent his night with and ruined his relationship with.

TAGS:

@lilian-maximoff - @spnfanboy777 - @blurredx18 - @wolf-knights​ - @emmaandkodak17 - @ascetic-angel - @buckletsfuck

#marvel #marvel angst #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil angst #daredevil x reader #daredevil x male reader #daredevil x reader angst #matt murdock #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x male reader #matt murdock x reader angst

[leossmoonn]

Decode

masterlist

pairing - matt murdock x fem!reader

type - angst, fluff, smut, 16+

summary - will matt find out who you work for before it’s too late? or will you decide love is more important than payday?

warnings / includes - language, alcohol and food consumption, suggestive, violence, sex, changes pov! (everything is not included in every chapter but in general)

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“Any news yet?” Matt asks, closing the door behind him.

“Nope,” Foggy sighs. He puts down his pen and sits back in his seat, planting his feet on the ground and moving his chair from side to side.

“We might have to shut down soon,” Matt frowns.

“Nah,” Foggy shakes his head. “We’ll get clients soon. As long as people see how good-looking the attorneys are.”

Matt lets out a deep chuckle that rumbles through his chest. He sets his briefcase down on his desk, setting his hands on his hips and bearing his weight onto his left foot. “Where’s Karen?”

“Uhhh…” Foggy stalls, checking his watch. “I’m not sure. She has five minutes until she needs to be here, though. Maybe she got stuck in the Starbucks line?”

As if on cue, Karen walks through the door carrying a case of donuts.

“Hi, sorry! You wouldn’t believe the checkout line at the market,” she laughs.

“What flavor are those donuts?” Foggy asks. “A mix of strawberry icing with sprinkles and chocolate icing,” she answers.

“Then I think we can forgive you,” Foggy grins. He takes the case of donuts and the purse that’s falling right off of her arm. He sets them both on her desk.

“Thank you,” she smiles gratefully. “You don’t have to keep giving us treats, you know,” Matt says.

Karen shrugs and sighs, “least I could do since I’m working for free.”

“Don’t spend all your savings on us, though,” Matt says.

“I don’t mind. It’s a treat for me, too,” Karen assures him.

“Plus, these are delicious,” Foggy says with chocolate icing all over his lips. Karen takes a strawberry iced donut, humming in delight as she bites into it. “These are very good. Very fresh and still warm.”

Matt takes a chocolate iced donut, taking a small bite of it. “Mmm, these are delicious. Thank you so much Karen.”

“My pleasure,” she grins. “So, any walk-ins so far?”

“Not since we opened…” Foggy checks his watch, “one minute ago.”

“Right,” she laughs lightly. “Well, more time to eat these donuts, right?”

“Exactly,” Foggy nods enthusiastically.

A knock on the door sounds. Matt, Foggy and Karen all perk up, looking at each other confused.

“Do we have our hours up on Google yet?” Foggy asks.

“Are they at our door?” Karen asks.

Matt focuses on the person who’s behind the door. His nose picks up a sweet, light scent of perfume. The clean smell of body wash hits his nasal cavity, coconut and vanilla shampoo mixing in as well. He hears a soft and impatient sigh.

“I think so,” Matt nods. “Karen,” he nods, holding his arm out, and points to the door.

“Right,” she nods. She walks up with a little smile, opening the door slowly. She gives you a big smile, opening the door wide for you. “Hi! Are you here for Nelson and Murdock?”

“Yes,” you nod. “Do you take walk-ins?”

“Most definitely!” Karen nods. She looks to Foggy, moving side to side as she becomes giddy. Foggy sets the donut down in the box, wiping his sticky hands on his suit.

“Hi, I’m Foggy Nelson.” he holds his hand out for you to shake. You slowly take his hand, giving him a small smile. “I’m Y/n L/n.”

“It’s very nice to meet you. This is our secretary Karen Page. This is my partner, Matt Murdock,” Foggy says, walking next to Matt. He pats back on the back rather roughly, coughing quietly. “Say something, dude.”

Matt stands in the reception office, taking you in. You’re dressed awfully nice this morning. You have on a silk blouse with a pencil skirt and long heels that click obnoxiously with every step you take. He can feel your eyes on him as well. It seems as though you’re analyzing him like he is to you. Your body is rigid. Not one muscle or part of you wavers in the silence. Your heartbeat is so steady, his ears trick him into hearing an irregularity. You just seem so perfect — too perfect.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms L/n,” Matt says.

“Please, call me Y/n,” you say. You hold your arm our for him to shake. Foggy chuckles a little bit. “Matt, here, is blind. Hence the glasses.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” you laugh awkwardly. “Of course, I-I should’ve noticed. My apologies.”

“It’s alright. Don’t apologize,” Matt smiles.

Foggy looks to Matt, raising his brow in confusion. He doesn’t know why Matt is acting so weird, but Foggy is determined to keep the ball rolling.

“So, what brings you to our firm?” he asks.

“You make it sound like there are better ones out there,” you tease. Foggy runs a sweaty palm through his gelled hair. “Well, there aren’t! Which is why we are so excited that you’ve chosen us.”

“Me, too. I heard you guys deal with difficult cases,” you say.

Matt’s head perks up. He furrows his brows, shifting his weight between both feet. “Depends.”

Foggy’s mouth opens and closes as he looks at Matt, then back to you. “What my partner means is that we really like to dive deep before we commit to a case. And in this case, we would like to sit down and discuss what we will be dealing with.”

“Of course. I’m blocked out the whole day for this,” you smile.

“Great! Do you want donuts? Karen brought them in for us.” Foggy presents to you the box.

“Oh, no. But thank you. You guys work so hard as lawyers, you deserve all of them,” you decline.

“Alright, suit yourself. They are delicious,” Foggy grins. “If you don’t mind, we’ll be taking in our debriefing.” Foggy holds a hand out to guide you. “Would you like something to drink while we talk?” he asks as you two walk away from Matt and Karen.

Karen smiled as you walk with Foggy, laughing at his witty comments. She then faces Matt who hadn’t moved a muscle or made any noise in the past two minutes. She crosses her arms over her chest. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” Matt says quickly. “You sure? Because if you weren’t blind, I’m sure you would’ve been staring daggers at her the whole time,” Karen chuckles.

Matt sighs, planting his hands on his waist. “There’s just… something off about her.”

“The fact that she wants you guys as her lawyer. If anything, I’d think that that’s an amazing thing,” Karen says.

He shakes his head. “I just can’t place what’s wrong with her.”

“Well, why don’t you talk to her then and find out? She did hint at her case being difficult,” Karen shrugs. “It seems like Foggy is getting all the details right now.” she looks over to the window. You and Foggy are still laughing, sitting on opposite sides of the table.

“Right,” Matt sighs. He walks onto the debriefing room, making you and Foggy go quiet.

“Finally! I was getting worried,” Foggy says. “Sorry,” Matt murmurs. “I’m so tired.”

“Long night?” you ask, sitting up in your seat. Matt raises his brow, resting his arms onto the desk. “You could say that.”

“Me, too. It was the last day of the weekend. So, you know, last time to party before next week,” you grin.

“Exactly my thoughts!” Foggy beams. “Do you guys mind discussing the case now?” Matt asks.

“Oh, yeah. Of course,” Foggy nods, flipping open his notepad. “What brings you in here today, Y/n?”

“Well, I woke up this morning and there was a dead man in my apartment,” you say.

Foggy stops scribbling down his notes and looks up at you, mouth agape.

“Did you kill this man?” Matt asks. You scoff and sit back in your chair. “What do you think?”

“Did you happened to see who left him there?” Foggy asks.

“No,” you shake your head. “But I found this in his pocket.” you take out a business card and slide it over to Foggy.

“You touched the body?” Matt asks. “Are you aware that your DNA is on him now, and the police could trace this back to you?”

“I used gloves,” you add. “Oh,” Matt hums. “Well, that’s good.”

“Vanessa Marianna?” Foggy reads the card. “Isn’t she an art dealer?”

“I believe so,” Matt nods. “What does a dead guy have to do with this?”

“Did she sell him some fake art and he tried to sell it back but then he got murdered?” Foggy jokes.

“Do you know who Vanessa is married to?” you ask.

“Uh, no… should I?” Foggy asks. “She’s married to Wilson Fisk,” Matt says breathlessly.

You look over him, your lips quirking up. You watch as his jaw tightens, revealing the sharp jawline underneath his beard.

“You know of Fisk?” you ask. “He’s one of the biggest businessmen in Hell’s Kitchen,” Matt answers. He opens his mouth to say more, but quickly closes it. You bite your cheek lightly to contain your amusement. “Do you know anything else?”

“You shouldn’t be asking the questions here,” Matt snaps.

“Matt, please,” Foggy frowns. “That’s not how we speak to our clients.”

Matt sighs, the crease between his eyebrows becoming tighter. “I’m sorry, Ms L/n. I… I do not know anything else about Mr. Fisk. Do you?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, popping the ‘p’. “Then why are you mentioning him?” Foggy asks.

“Just thought it would be of interest to you two,” you shrug.

“Is this your difficult case?” Foggy asks. “No,” you chuckle. “Since a dead guy was found in my apartment, I am being charged with murder.”

“Oh, right,” Foggy nods. “Did you wake up with his blood on your hands?”

“Nope. But the police think I washed it all off. The murder weapon was also one of my kitchen knives, which helps me a lot,” you remark sarcastically.

Foggy nods in agreement. “Definitely, it does. So, you didn’t hear anything last night?”

“No. I was out with my friends last night after work. I got home around one in the morning, and nobody was found,” you explain.

“You slept through a murder?” Matt questions. “I’m a sleepy drunk, what can I say? Once I hit the bed, I’m out,” you shrug.

“Did the police take the knife to be tested?” Foggy asks.

“Yep. They said, and I quote, “get ready for your DNA to be on this,” you answer.

“Are you in their custody yet?” Matt asks. “Nope because they literally have no proof I did it. His blood wasn’t on my hands, none of my hair on his body. Unless they get my fingerprints on the knife, I’m not a criminal,” you grin. “Officially,” you add.

“And you would like us to defend your case?” Foggy asks.

“Yes, please,” you nod. “This seems pointless. What if they do find your fingerprints. What are we supposed to do?” Matt questions.

“Well, it is her kitchen knife. So it probably will. It all depends on if they find another set of fingerprints,” Foggy says.

“And what if they don’t? This case is meaningless,” Matt says.

Foggy sighs, “do you mind if I step out and speak with my partner?”

“Not at all. Take your time,” you smile.

“Thank you,” Foggy smiles back. He grabs Matt by the arm, dragging him out of the room. “We need the money, Matt.”

Matt sighs and nods. “I know… but something doesn’t seem right.”

Foggy shakes his head in disbelief. “No. You don’t get to do that. Not on this case.”

“Wha- Foggy. When have I been wrong?” Matt asks, raising his brows.

Foggy rolls his eyes in annoyance. “That does not matter. Whether or not we win this case, we will still get money. We need that. Plus, she seems like a nice person. We still need to wait for the forensic’s findings. Why not just talk to her about what happened last night, get the data, and then go from there?”

Matt goes silent for a few moments. He doesn’t trust you one bit. From the way your heart stays steady, to your overly chipper mood about almost being charged with murder. Something just isn’t right about you. But, Foggy is right. They do need the money, and more meetings with you could help pay off the building, and finally pay all three of Nelson and Murdock’s employees.

“Well?” Foggy asks. Matt nods, “okay. We’ll take the case.”

“Great!” Foggy exclaims. “But I’m going make sure she doesn’t do anything devious,” Matt says.

Foggy chuckles softy, patting Matt on the back. “Whatever will help you sleep at night.”

The two walk back into the room. You greet them with a smile.

“Conflict over?” you hum. “Yes,” Foggy sighs in relief. “We will be happy to take your case, Ms L/n.”

“Again, call me Y/n,” you remind him. “Right, Y/n. Do you mind if we ask you a few more questions?” Foggy asks.

“Not at all. I’m an open book,” you say.

Matt looks in your direction, focusing on your heartbeat once more. It’s soft and perfectly in time. You’re going to be a hard nut to crack.

————

part 2 coming soon!

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[andyyymurdock]

i'll just say that i'm writing some matt murdock x reader angst hehe

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader angst #matt murdock x reader #marvel

[l0caltiredgirl]

when i want fluff/angst fics and all i’m getting is smut

the struggle is real

#don’t get me wrong #smut is great #but a girl wants some angst and fluff #joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader #matt murdock x reader #steven grant x reader #steve harrington x reader #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #derek morgan x reader #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader #marc spector x reader #javier pena x reader #ellie williams x reader #poe dameron x reader #cassian andor x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #logan howlett x reader #daryl dixon x reader #simon riley x reader #bruce wayne x reader #l0caltiredgirl #mike schmidt x reader #sam carpenter x reader #emily prentiss x reader

[amberlynnmurdock]

Neighbor

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You're Matt Murdock's neighbor, and one night he hears you pray.

Words: Under 1k

A/N: I just be posting anything now lol wrote this in my notes app hope you like it!!!

The building was quiet most of the time, but unfortunately for Matt Murdock, that wasn't the case, ever. Most people couldn't hear apartments three doors down and the conversations that went on in them. But Matt could. And he could never avoid them.

He distracted himself from the outside noise with menial chores–cleaning whatever dishes were left in the sink, reorganizing glasses in the cabinet, and practicing his fighting. But when dusting and cleaning wasn't enough, when even the music he played couldn't drown out the noise, he tended to listen to a particular apartment: hers.

She lived alone. Right across the hall, diagonal from his own door. Of all the apartments he was forced to listen to day in and day out, hers was the most peaceful. The quietest. She didn't have loud conversations with anyone, she didn't have a dog who would bark in the middle of the night. Instead, she had a teapot on the stove that would whistle when ready; she spent most nights quietly flipping through pages of a book. She got up to that annoying phone alarm and trotted to the bathroom to get ready for work. Matt's not sure what she does, but sometimes he hears her come home late when he's about to get ready to patrol the streets as Daredevil.

Matt realized going over this in his head was a little more than creepy and trod the thin line of being a stalker, but his heightened senses and what they picked up on were unavoidable. The times he couldn't focus on anything else or tune out the other noises in the apartment he focused on hers because it was the most calming to his senses.

He's only run into her a handful of times on the rare occasion they both leave for work in the morning. One time, they both exited their apartments at the same time. She quietly waved good morning until she realized she waved at a blind man and then uttered a more audible "good morning." Most people would ignore the realization and awkwardly go about their day, but not her. She always made sure to say good morning from then on. Matt liked that–no, liked you.

Matt found himself eager to get home after work more often than not, in hopes of coming home at the same time as her. Anything to get a small interaction would be enough for him. Even if it was as small as her holding the door for him or wishing him a good night. He looked forward to these small interactions so much that if they didn't happen, Matt would have a much less than good day.

One night, though, when he was just about to let himself fall asleep after a rather rough night patrolling Hell's Kitchen, he heard her. He heard her in a way he hadn't before. From the hiccups, to the shaky breaths, and the lingering taste of salt in the air, he knew she was crying.

Matt shot up in bed as he began to listen more intently–what happened?

"Please, God," he heard her whispered prayer, "Please make sure I make it home safe and unharmed from work. Please. There's so much violence in this city and I'm scared to walk alone at night."

Matt took a shaky breath, gripping his silk sheets in his hands. She was scared, he confirmed. Well, rest assured, he thought. Tomorrow night, he would make sure she arrived home safely from work himself.

TO BE CONTINUED??? IDK.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matt murdock one shot #daredevil fanfic #daredevil one shot #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #charlie cox #daredevil #matt murdock #neighbor

[bellaxgiornata]

If We're Being Honest [1/2]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6.8k [Part 2]

Summary: Already having an awful week, you're a bit out of it while at Josie's with your friends, too busy sulking and drinking down your feelings to keep up with conversation. The sight of Matt wandering off with a beautiful woman yet again certainly doesn't help. But when you stay behind by yourself to finish your drink and wallow a bit more, you're surprised when Matt reappears and offers to let you stay the night at his place. Eventually, the night takes a turn you weren't anticipating.

Warnings/Tags: Angst with a happy ending, confession of feelings (with a twist), delayed comfort, anxious/depressed inebriated Reader

a/n: This is a two part little fic with angst in this first half and the comfort y'all want in the second half. I was craving angst and a twist on the typical confession of feelings fic, so here y'all go! Feedback is always appreciated!

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @sleepysleepymom @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia

Absently spinning your bottle of beer on the table with one hand, your eyes were fixed on the little droplets of condensation along the side of it. Your chin rested in the palm of your other hand as you watched one of the droplets begin to snake its way down the side of the brown glass, moving as if it was in slow motion. Outside of the bar, the downpour of summer rain battered against the window to your left.

Foggy’s hand loudly and abruptly slapping the table broke through your daze, causing you to jump in your seat. Eyes flying over towards him beside you, you watched as he let out a boisterous laugh, throwing his head back over his shoulders. Karen and Matt both quickly followed after, breaking into a fit of laughter along with him. Meanwhile you sat in your seat with absolutely no idea what had them laughing so hard because you hadn't been paying attention to the conversation for the past few minutes. 

You'd been having a rough week, both emotionally and mentally, and were currently trying your hardest not to sit and wallow in self-pity tonight–but you weren't doing a great job of that so far. Not only had you received a wedding invitation to your cousin's wedding the other day, but last night Marci had asked you to be a bridesmaid at her and Foggy’s upcoming wedding. Which of course you'd said yes to, ecstatic for your friends to finally be getting married and having an actual date set for their big day. But all of that had made you increasingly aware of your own single-ness this week in particular, especially after Karen had spent the first part of tonight gushing about the new guy she'd been seeing. 

You were happy for your friends, honestly. They were amazing people who deserved nothing but the best. You absolutely couldn't wait for all of the wedding festivities coming up that you'd be celebrating with everyone, either–for Marci and Fog's wedding and your cousin. You even thought the guy Karen was seeing sounded like an actual great catch for her for once. 

But you just couldn't help but feel like there was something wrong with you tonight. It had been far too long since you'd last had a date, and even longer than that since you'd been in a relationship. It didn't help that you certainly didn’t feel like you fit in with this group of friends you’d somehow found yourself a part of for the past almost year now. 

It had been by sheer accident that you’d met Foggy and Karen one morning all those months ago. And it was only because the three of you had had a coffee mishap at a coffee shop near the office where they worked. It was Foggy who’d chased you out of that shop for the drink you'd accidentally grabbed by mistake. Apparently it had been for his law firm partner Matt, who happened to be very particular about his coffee. They needed to be at the courthouse in time for a court case that morning so he didn't have time to get back in line to reorder the coffee. Having not had a chance to drink from the cup in the time you'd managed to grab it and make your way out the door, you'd readily swapped Matt's drink with your actual coffee that Foggy had grabbed. You’d apologized profusely for the mistake, but you'd formed the opinion that his firm partner sounded like an ass to be that particular about his coffee.

And for the next few mornings before work after that, you kept noticing Karen and Foggy at the same coffee shop. The pair of them were always excited to greet you, jokingly dubbing you the ‘coffee thief’ from that moment forward. It wasn’t long before the morning small talk in the line for coffee eventually led to them inviting you out to this little dive bar at Josie’s where you had finally met him .

Matthew Michael Murdock.

As the laughter subsided at the table, your eyes shifted over to Matt as if they were magnetically drawn to him. There was a broad smile stretched wide across his face, displaying his perfect, white teeth. The adorable, lone dimple in his right cheek was visible tonight just beneath the stubble that was a bit darker and thicker than he usually kept it. His dark hair was partially windswept but now finally dry from the rain that had dampened it earlier. Somehow that had just made his hair look messy in a way that seemed intentional. His tie was partially undone, loose around the collar of his light blue dress shirt; and as usual by the time he’d reached Josie’s, his sleeves had been rolled up exactly two times to reveal those muscular forearms of his covered in that smattering of little dark hairs you’d always longed to touch. 

He looked good– so good. But he always did. 

And of course, you were aware that you weren't the only one who ever noticed that.

The tall brunette you’d caught eyeing Matt all night finally appeared just over his shoulder and you released a sigh, already knowing what was coming next. Matt always attracted attention from beautiful women wherever he went because he was handsome and charismatic and sweet. He was impossible to miss in a room full of people. Which was honestly true of Karen, Marci, and Foggy, too. They were all attractive, successful, and exceptionally well-spoken individuals with big personalities that you couldn’t help but be drawn to.

But not you. You stood out like a painting on a hotel wall wherever you went–common, bland, and not remotely out of the ordinary. 

“Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt,” the brunette began as she stopped beside the table. Her eyes landed on Matt as she flashed a stunning smile his way. “I couldn't help but keep stealing glances at you all night and I figured I'd finally just say hello.”

Matt turned in his chair towards the woman, a charming smile already prepared on his face for her. “Well I'm flattered,” he told her. “I only wish I could say the same about stealing glances at you in return all night, but well–”

Matt gestured at his red glasses as the woman laughed, the sound itself somehow even perfect and attractive. That dark feeling of jealousy and despair began knotting together, swirling in your gut and mixing with the beers you'd already downed. Movement across the table from you caught your attention and you glanced over, catching the sight of Karen playfully but discreetly rolling her eyes at you and Foggy. Foggy chuckled lightly in response, nodding a little. Your attention returned back to the condensation on your beer bottle, not interested in having a front row seat to watching another one of Matt's hook-ups pan out.

“Would it be alright if I bought you a drink?” you overheard the brunette ask. “I mean, if I'm not interrupting?”

“I can assure you that you’re absolutely not interrupting anything,” Matt told her, already sliding his chair back and rising to his feet. “I think these three have endured my company long enough for this evening anyway, and it isn't often a woman offers to buy me a drink.”

Matt said a quick round of goodbyes to the three of you as that beautiful brunette’s perfect laugh trilled over the sound of the rock music playing on the bar’s speakers. You muttered something back half-heartedly, not even bothering to glance up from your beer. It wasn’t like he’d have noticed anyway.

“Well maybe it’s about that time,” Foggy said, pulling the sleeve of his dress shirt back to check the time on his watch. “Marci had appointments for cake tastings tomorrow morning and I do not want to miss out on that.” 

Across the table, Karen raised her bottle up to her lips, downing the rest of her beer before setting the empty bottle back onto the table. “I might see if Alex wants to stop over tonight, actually,” she told you both. “Since it’s Friday and I don’t need to show up at the office for once on a Saturday morning.”

As both of them began sliding their chairs back, gathering their things from the table, you remained seated. Fingers tapping against the beer bottle, you watched as a droplet of condensation raced another over the curve of the glass. Out of your peripheral, you caught the way both Foggy and Karen’s movements slowed, the two of them exchanging an uncertain look with each other. Then you heard the way Karen said your name softly in question. Eyes shifting upwards, you focused on her on the other side of the table.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked. “You’ve been oddly quiet all night.”

You forced a tired smile onto your face, nodding as you continued to rest your chin in your hand. “I’m fine,” you lied. “Just going to finish my drink before I leave, I think. Been a rough week at work and I just need to relax a little.”

“Do you…want us to stay?” Foggy asked.

You shook your head, releasing the bottle from your grip long enough to wave the pair of them off. “I’m fine drinking by myself, don’t worry about me,” you told him. “Go on. You both have someone to get back to tonight anyway, I’ll be alright.”

Karen hesitated beside the table, her concerned eyes landing back on Foggy still standing next to you. It looked like they were having a silent conversation with each other, but the thought of them staying here to keep you company when you knew there was somewhere they’d rather be–some one who’d they’d rather be with–only made that uncomfortable and sickening feeling of jealousy in your gut worse. 

Forcing that smile back on your face, you sat upright in your chair, ignoring the way the bar around you briefly spun in your vision from the beers you'd drank. Attempting to play the part of being just fine, you hoped that neither of them could see the truth behind the mask you’d thrown on. You just wanted to sulk back for a few minutes and finish your beer while you unhealthily forced yourself to acknowledge the fact that Matt looked far better next to a woman like the one he was currently laughing with at the bar than someone like you. Then you’d go home, throw on your stained and worn pajamas that weren’t remotely sexy, and probably watch a bit of mindless television before going to bed. Alone. Like every other night.

“Alright, well…hopefully you enjoy your drink,” Karen replied hesitantly, still looking uncertain.

“Make sure you call for a ride, too,” Foggy said, pointing a finger at the window beside you. “Still raining cats and dogs out there. You don’t want to step in a poodle–I mean, puddle–on your way home.”

You laughed lightly at his joke, though not as much as you would’ve done any other night. Exchanging goodbyes with both of them afterwards, you sighed in relief when they finally turned and headed towards the exit. Slumping back down in your seat, you focused on the window to your left as you drew your bottle of beer back up to your lips, watching as the rain continued to come down hard. 

Maybe Melissa at work was right. Maybe it was time you tried downloading one of those stupid dating apps, even though the thought of weeding out so many assholes who just wanted sex was the last thing you wanted to do. But maybe it would beat being alone all the time. It wasn’t like you were having any luck trying to meet someone the old fashioned way–in person.

Taking another drink from your beer, your attention returned to Matt's back as he sat at the bar beside the attractive woman. Drinking down a few deep gulps, you wondered what it would be like to ever have his undivided attention like that. To have him throw jokes your way because he was trying to win you over, not because you were just one of his friends. To have his hand linger on your thigh while he spoke to you because he wanted you and he wanted you to know that. Or to have him lean in towards your ear and whisper literally anything to you. 

Swallowing your beer down, you tore your eyes away from the sight of Matt at the bar. He'd never once flirted with you like that, the thought only increasing the lingering pain of jealousy now spreading to your chest, feeling like it was sucking your heart into a blackhole of nothingness. You just weren't good enough were you?

Ducking your head, you tried to hide the emotion on your face even if the only person left at this bar to notice and comment would be Josie herself. Still, you'd rather not be asked to explain why you looked quite so miserable. But it hurt to realize that every single one of your friends had someone else to go home to tonight, and here you were drinking alone. Going home to an empty apartment after.

Figuring it was time you just downed the rest of your drink and headed home, you grabbed your beer and quickly drained the rest of its contents. Maybe being drenched in the summer rain on your walk back home would make you feel something tonight besides the growing ache of loneliness. 

Setting the finished bottle of beer back onto the table, you clumsily pushed your chair back. Rising to your feet, you nearly lost your balance when you slid out of the chair. Your hands darted out, grabbing onto the table to steady yourself for a moment. Maybe you'd drank those beers back faster than you'd realized, clearly a little more buzzed than you'd expected.

“Not a big deal,” you mumbled to yourself, maneuvering around the chair, “I can still manage to walk back inebriated in the rain.”

Slipping your purse from off the back of the chair, you tossed the strap over your head and readjusted it on yourself. Then you pushed the chair forward so as not to trip over it before turning. 

Immediately you stopped when you saw you weren't alone, a surprised gasp coming from you. You would’ve stumbled backwards if it hadn't been for your hand that flew out, grabbing onto the back of the chair you'd just pushed in. Matt was standing at the edge of the table, his cane unfolded and in both of his hands.

“Hey,” he said, his attention clearly fixed on you. “Josie said you were still here by yourself.”

Brows knitting together in confusion at him suddenly appearing over here when he had just been at the bar, you glanced back over to where you'd last seen him. The brunette he'd been talking to had disappeared entirely, no longer sitting on the bar stool. 

“Yeah, I was just…finishing my drink,” you replied, still scanning the bar for the woman. “Weren't you with someone just a minute ago?”

“Well I was,” he answered, “until Josie pointed out how you were sitting here all by yourself after Fog and Karen had already gone home. Had me worried. Are you doing alright?”

Your gaze returned back to him, taking in the look of concern etched across his handsome face. The same look Karen and Foggy had shared tonight. 

“I'm fine,” you said, repeating the same lie. 

Matt's head tilted curiously to the side, a mannerism of his that you always found adorable. Except for right now, because it felt like he was analyzing what you'd said far more closely than your other friends had.

“If you're heading out, I can call you a car,” Matt suggested. “I can even wait with you if you'd like.”

You shook your head, beginning to make your way past him. “I'm fine, Matt,” you told him. “I was just going to walk back.”

“In the rain?” he asked. “I might be blind but I'm not deaf. It's pouring outside. And you've had quite a few drinks tonight, let me just call you a car. You shouldn’t be walking home in that.”

“Maybe I want to take a walk in the rain,” you countered, coming to a stop beside him. “Something wrong with that? It's just rain.”

His brows drew up onto his forehead behind his glasses as he shifted on his feet. “You really want to walk almost two blocks in the pouring rain right now? Stumbling down the sidewalk alone?” he asked. “You sure about that?”

A frown settled onto your face. When he put it like that, no, you sort of didn't. But you also didn't feel like waiting to grab a cab, either. Especially if it meant waiting with Matt and being the cause of further ruining his evening.

“Alright, how about this,” he continued when you hadn’t answered. “You come back and stay at my place tonight. I think we can both manage a walk around the corner in the rain. I'll let you borrow something dry to sleep in and you can take the bed. That way I won't have to worry if you made it home alright and you can still have your walk in the rain.”

As his offer made its way past the alcoholic fog in your brain, your body stiffened. Had Matt really just invited you to stay the night at his place? Because he was worried about you getting home? And he'd walked away from what was clearly going to be an obvious hook-up? For you ?

You could feel your heart beating a little faster in your chest as all these things gradually began to register in your mind. Why would he do that? He’d never invited you to stay at his place before.

“I–” you began.

You could barely find the words to reply, your brain too muddled by the alcohol to think clearly. Was this just an invitation as a friend, or was it something more? 

“Is that a yes?” he questioned. “Because it sounds like the rain has eased up a bit, now would be the perfect time to head out before it downpours again.”

Slowly you nodded, the ‘yes’ coming out of you before you even realized you’d agreed. Because could you really pass up the chance to stay over at Matt’s place? You knew you’d always be left wondering what might’ve happened if you didn’t go. 

His hand extended out towards you, the movement drawing your gaze downwards. It hovered there in the space between both of your bodies, your eyes lingering on it. 

“Should we go then?” he asked.

Swallowing hard, you hesitantly reached your hand out, slipping it with uncertainty into his. But when his fingers curled around your hand in return, you realized that’s what he’d been silently asking. For you to hold his hand as you walked back with him in the rain.

“Probably will make it easier to keep either of us from tripping,” he told you, turning the pair of you around in the bar until you were both facing the exit. “Though I suppose now if one of us falls down, we both do.”

His head turned towards you, a cheeky grin on his mouth directed solely at you. You could feel the way your heart skipped in your chest at the sight, the cold, miserable feeling that you’d been experiencing all night easing its way out of you just a little. 

“So, do you care to lead the way or…?”

Snapping out of your daze staring at him–something you were grateful he couldn’t see–you quickly nodded. “Right, sorry,” you muttered, beginning to lead the pair of you towards the door.

The moment you’d led the pair of you out of Josie’s and out from beneath the little overhang at the entrance, the warm rain had already begun to soak your hair and your clothes. It had felt good though, especially with Matt’s warm, calloused hand wrapped around yours. As you sidestepped a puddle, you found yourself surprised at the unexpected turn that your evening had taken. Though there was still something on your mind and your inebriated brain just couldn’t resist finding out the answer as the pair of you neared the corner of the block.

“So…how much did I ruin your night tonight?” you asked Matt cautiously.

He glanced over his shoulder towards you, his cane tapping along the sidewalk and occasionally splashing up water each time it hit a puddle. Your bottom lip rolled back between your teeth as you began nervously gnawing on it, afraid of his answer.

“You didn’t ruin my night,” he replied easily. “Though I’ve been a bit worried about you. You’ve been quieter more than usual tonight. Is something on your mind?”

Yeah, you , you thought.

But of course, you couldn’t say that aloud.

You shrugged, your gaze dropping to the pavement ahead of you. “Just feeling a little down on myself, I guess,” you muttered. 

Hearing the words aloud had you cringing as you walked. You hadn't exactly meant to be honest and tell him that. 

“Feeling down on yourself about what, exactly?” he asked.

The pair of you rounded the corner, your blouse already drenched and sticking to your skin. Glancing up at Matt from beneath your lashes beside you, you couldn't help but notice the way his dress shirt was soaked and clinging to his muscular torso. It was physically painful how attractive he was. 

“It's stupid,” you mumbled, focusing back down on the pavement. 

Matt's hand squeezed yours, your heart practically slamming into your ribcage in shock at the gesture. You hoped he didn't notice the way your palm was gradually beginning to dampen with nervous sweat.

“Tell me what's on your mind,” he urged. “You know I won't judge you.”

The pair of you were quickly approaching Matt's apartment building as his words hung in the air between you. It was true though, in all your time knowing Matt he'd never once been mean to you. Never once had he made you feel bad about yourself. If anything he'd always been sweet and supportive, which only made you like him that much more. You sighed, and then suddenly you felt your drunk thoughts spilling out of your mouth faster than you could stop them. 

“I feel like I'm not good enough,” you confessed, the words spewing from you. “I haven't had a date in a long time. And then there's Marci and Fog who're getting married soon–and that's great. They're perfect for each other. And Karen, well, she might usually have poor luck with men, but she gets dates left and right. And she's gorgeous and smart so I get it. And then you–” you continued, wincing at the memory of him next to that brunette at Josie’s, his hand on her thigh, “–you could have a new fling for every night of the week in this damn city. But me?” You roughly shook your head, a tear managing to slip out of your eye and camouflaging itself with the drops of rain on your cheeks. “No one looks twice at me. I'm not special and I'm certainly not Karen or Marci. I don't even remember the last time a guy showed up to my place with flowers. It's been a long time since someone actually asked me on a date. And–”

You stopped short, your brain finally catching up and realizing all the things you'd just said aloud. You sucked in a breath as the wave of embarrassment hit you, your mouth promptly closing. How could you have possibly just admitted all that to Matt of all people?

“You know that's not true, right?” Matt said gently, his hand once again squeezing yours. “I'm sure plenty of guys have given you second or third looks. You're an incredibly smart and talented woman and you're being far too hard on yourself.”

You scoffed loudly, rolling your eyes as heat burned at your cheeks. But at the sound of your disbelief, Matt's hand gave a sharp pull on yours, drawing you both to a stop in front of his building. 

“Hey,” he said, tugging your hand and pulling you towards himself. “You should stop thinking about yourself like that. Stop being so critical of yourself. You're so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

Hearing his kind words, you couldn't bear to look him in the face. Feeling awkward, your gaze fixed down on your wet dress flats. “Easy for you to say,” you muttered, the alcohol once more loosening your tongue, “because you're successful and don't remotely have an issue attracting the opposite sex. It's not like that for the rest of us.”

Matt said your name firmly, the tone of his voice practically commanding you to focus back on him. His expression was serious despite the red glasses he wore obscuring his eyes, making it impossible to see the entirety of his face. His hair was soaked and clinging to his head from the rain, a few droplets streaming down his handsome face as he fixed his attention solely on you. Your hands instantly began to grow clammier under his undivided attention and you hoped he thought it was just from the rain.

“You're an amazing person and some lucky guy is going to come and sweep you off your feet,” he told you. “You'll find him, I can assure you of that.”

As you gazed back at him on the sidewalk, the rain still falling over the pair of you, your buzzed brain tried to understand if there was something else hidden in Matt's words, some other thing that he was trying to tell you. Because just like he'd never invited you to stay at his place, he'd never said anything like that to you before. He'd certainly never looked at you like he currently was before, either. 

“Please try to be kinder to yourself,” Matt nearly begged. “Okay?”

Unsure what to make of his behavior tonight, you nodded slightly. “Okay,” you agreed quietly.

He smiled back at you, the sight nearly knocking you off your feet. It was quickly becoming far too difficult to just stand here trying to look at him as only a friend. And it was getting harder and harder to keep your mouth from blurting out how you felt with that stunning smile on his perfect mouth. Thankfully he continued on towards the entrance of his building, breaking you from your thoughts and leading you into the small lobby and over towards the elevators.

The entire way up to Matt's apartment had been silent after that. You were too busy trying to analyze everything he had been doing and saying tonight to even remotely think of conversation. Because it was supposed to have been that pretty woman at the bar coming up to his apartment tonight, not you. Yet here you were, still holding Matt's hand as he led you down the hallway to his place.

And while this certainly wasn't the first time you'd been here before, it was the first time you'd been here alone at night with him. The thought of staying here overnight in his bed still had your insides buzzing along with the beer you'd downed this evening. 

Was there something more you were missing? Every step closer to his apartment had you feeling like there was.

Matt eventually pulled you to a stop in front of his door, fishing his keys from out of his dress pant pockets. You watched in silence as he unlocked the door, your nerves only growing as you stood there. 

“You can come on in,” Matt told you, swinging his door open and gesturing for you to step inside. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you hesitantly stepped forward and made your way past Matt into the apartment. Your shoulder gently and accidentally brushed against his damp chest as you tried to squeeze past him. Immediately you wrapped your arms over your chest, feeling your heart beat a little harder from the brief touch. His chest was so incredibly solid, you'd never understood how he was so in shape.

Glancing down as you paused in his entryway, you noticed the damp patch you were making on his floor as he shut and locked the door behind you. 

“I'm sorry, I'm dripping water everywhere,” you told Matt. “Do you have a towel or something?”

“How about I grab some dry clothes for you to change into,” he replied, slipping out of his dress shoes. “Then we can worry about the mess we're making.”

As he made his way down the short entryway, you stood awkwardly in place, arms still wrapped around yourself. When Matt reached the end of the little hall, he paused, glancing back at you with a charming smile on his face.

“It's just water, it's fine,” he assured you. “You can come in.”

Slowly you began to make your way into his apartment, cautiously making your way over to the side of his leather couch. Matt once again assured you he would grab some dry clothes for you to change into before disappearing into his bedroom, leaving you alone.

The lights were off in his apartment, but truthfully you didn't even need them. Looking out the window to your right, your eyes landed on the eyesore of a billboard just across the street. It had been awhile since you'd been here at night with your friends and you'd forgotten just how bright it was. Currently it was advertising a nearby hospital, the blue light shining through Matt's windows and coating the room in a navy glow. In a way it was beautiful, but you could absolutely understand why he’d gotten such a great deal on the place. 

“Hopefully these will work,” Matt said.

Tearing your eyes away from the window, your attention returned to Matt as he was leaving his bedroom. But your breath immediately caught in your throat at the unexpected sight of him sauntering his way towards you with some neatly folded clothes in his hands. It felt like you suddenly couldn't breathe as you watched each of his casual steps towards you.

He'd taken his damp shirt off and removed his glasses when he'd gone into his bedroom to grab you some clothes. The sight of which had left you damn near speechless because you'd never seen him shirtless before. It was impossible not to just blankly stare at the sight, taking in all of the defined muscle along his chest along with the girth of his muscular arms. You curiously noted the scars on his chest, but you were too busy trying to control your now violently beating heart at the view before you to think much more of them.

Matthew Murdock looked far too good to actually exist in real life. 

But why hadn't he thrown a shirt on before he'd come out to hand you the clothes? It would’ve taken him barely any time to do so. Had it been intentional that he'd done that? Was it…possible that Matt might’ve been trying to make some sort of move on you tonight? Was that why he’d invited you back here this evening instead of the other woman at the bar?

He stopped just before you, a smile on his face as his eyes fixed somewhere along your chest. You always loved when he took his glasses off around you, but unfortunately it wasn't often. He always seemed far more vulnerable, which was probably why it was a rare sight. But he’d removed them now, and as you watched him, you noticed the faintest twitch to the corner of his eyes. You wondered what that was about as he extended the clothes in his hands out towards you. 

“Here,” he said softly. “Hopefully they're comfortable, but if not, I can always get you a towel to dry off. Though really you can sleep however you're comfortable.” His smile turned cheeky–a smile he didn’t often flash your way–as the corners of his eyes creased. “Not like I can see anything anyway.”

Your fingers tightened around your damp blouse at the implication of his words. Had he just said he didn't care if you slept in nothing? In his bed?

Swallowing hard, your eyes dropped down and focused on the shirt and sweatpants that were neatly folded in his outstretched hands. His clothes. He was offering you his clothes to sleep in. Nervously you unwrapped your arms from over your chest as you took a step towards him, your trembling hands carefully reaching out and accepting the clothing from him.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

Glancing up, you realized how close the pair of you were now standing to each other. Barely any distance was left between you two. Had he even managed to move closer or were you imagining that?

“Of course,” he whispered back.

He was still smiling down at you as you drew the clothes in towards your chest. His head had tilted ever so faintly to the side as you observed him, the heat of his body warming you in your damp clothes. Why hadn’t he moved? Why was he still standing so close? 

A thought struck you as you stood there, your attention turning towards his lips. Was he…wanting to kiss you? No, that couldn’t be it.

…could it?

He had invited you back to his place after all. He’d walked you home with him in the rain hand in hand–which had been his idea. That had been far more intimate than anything the pair of you had ever done before. And now he was letting you stay the night in his bed, offering you his own clothes to change into. Saying such nice things about you. And he was just standing there, gazing down at you in nothing but a pair of damp dress pants because he’d removed his shirt without bothering to put on another one. 

This had to all be intentional, right? He could’ve easily gone home with the brunette from the bar, but he chose you, didn’t he? Maybe what he’d been saying earlier outside the building in the rain had meant something more. Could he have been talking about himself being the guy to come along and sweep you off your feet? Had that been what he’d meant all along?

Hope instantly sparked in your chest at the thought. Everything seemed to make sense, everything seemed to point at the fact that Matt might possibly view you as more than just a friend. So was this your moment then? Your chance to tell Matt how you felt and to hear he felt the same in return? Because he was still just standing there, so close you could kiss him. Why else hadn’t he moved?

Without even thinking–most likely due to the alcohol in your system–you leaned forward and boldly closed the rest of the distance between your mouths. It was a hesitant kiss, your lips ever so gently pressing against Matt’s in an uncertain connection. You couldn’t believe how incredibly soft his were, how warm they felt against your own. Your stomach began somersaulting inside of you because you were kissing Matt. It was everything you’d wanted for almost a year now.

Until he gently but abruptly pulled away from you.

Your eyes fluttered open as you drew back from him, taking in the look of utter confusion on Matt’s face. Panic immediately set in, your hands tightening around the bundle of clothing in your hands. 

“What–what are you doing?” he asked.

“I–I thought–” you stammered, struggling to form a sentence. “Was that–is this not…?”

Matt’s head only tilted further to the side, his dark brows furrowing further together on his forehead until there was a deep crease between them. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or your nerves at this point, but you felt on the verge of vomiting now.

What the hell had you just done?

“Did you think I was inviting you here to sleep with you?” he asked in disbelief. He said your name, the sound like a stab to your chest as he shook his head. “I had no intention of that. You’re drunk and you’re my friend. I wanted to make sure you got to somewhere safe tonight. I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you. That’s not–that’s not what I was doing.”

“Oh my God,” you breathed out, taking a step back from him. “Oh my God, I thought that–that you…”

Your words trailed off, eyes growing wide as the urge to bolt quickly took over you. You could feel the sting of tears burning in your eyes already, absolutely mortified at what you’d done and how you’d wildly misread the entire situation. How could you have been so incredibly stupid?

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, vision blurring from the tears welling up in your eyes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have–that wasn’t okay. I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve had too much to drink and–and I wasn’t thinking,” you blabbered on. “I absolutely misread things, I just thought that–that maybe you liked me, too and–”

Matt said your name softly, as if he was trying to calm a panicked animal. “You’re my friend,” he told you. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression at all this evening but–”

You practically threw the bundle of clothes back at Matt’s bare chest. His hands flew up, somehow catching them, but the gesture had cut him clean off. That spark of hope that had formed in your chest moments ago quickly sizzled out. A roiling, churning instead grew in your stomach, making you certain that you’d throw up soon if you didn’t get the hell out of here. 

“I need to go,” you blurted.

Turning abruptly, you hurried through Matt’s living room and down the entryway hall. Behind you, you heard him calling your name, but you didn’t dare stop. You couldn’t face him, not after what you’d just idiotically done. Especially not now as the tears were finally falling down your cheeks in hot spurts, embarrassment and rejection both burning inside of you. You just needed to get out of here, needed to get away from this entire horrible situation. You couldn’t believe you’d just gone and kissed him like that.

Your frantic hands fumbled with the lock on his door, but you managed to undo it and wrench it open in a rush. Continuing to ignore him calling after you, you pulled the door shut after yourself before you darted across the hall and straight to the door leading to the stairwell. Throwing it open, you began racing down the stairs as fast as you could, a hand covering your mouth as you tried to muffle your pathetic sobs. Your heart slammed away against your ribcage as the tears began to fall faster down your cheeks. As you descended the stairs, your vision blurred from tears and the alcohol you'd drank, causing you to stumble a few times on your way all the way down to the main floor. 

Ignoring the looks from the few people you sprinted past in the lobby, you headed straight towards the building’s exit. Forcefully pushing the doors open, you made your way back out onto the sidewalk and into the rain. A choked sob slipped past your fingers as you continued to hurry down the pavement and back towards your own apartment, your flats quickly becoming soaked as you stepped through a few puddles, splashing water up onto your dress pants. 

You’d just gone and kissed Matt like an absolute idiot. Of course he’d told you that he only saw you as a friend. Why would Matt ever be interested in someone like you? Someone awkward and average, nothing special. 

You’d absolutely ruined that friendship now, too. There was no way in hell you could ever face him again. You weren’t sure how you were going to survive Marci’s wedding months from now. Maybe if you were lucky you could try to ignore him all day. He’d probably be more than happy to do the same after tonight.

“ Why did I kiss him?” you lamented to yourself. “How stupid !”

Your tears continued to fall, mixing with the heavy rain drops pelting your cheeks as you rushed back to your place. All you wanted to do was get up to your apartment and crawl beneath the blankets in your bed and hide. You just wanted to forget this entire nightmare of an evening. There was no way to salvage what you’d done, to take it back. 

You should have never gone out tonight.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #matt murdock x fem!reader

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the croissants

buttercup, chapter one

a/n: i was actually working on something else, but then one night i got the desperate need to rewatch daredevil yet again and then this just kinda accidentally tumbled out. oopsi i guess.

summary: he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open.

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, moving, lowkey love at first sight (for reader)

word count: 2415

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“Do you wanna make the call or would you like me to do it?” 

Turning to look at the robust and inked visage of your uncle, your face crinkled up slightly as you asked in a hesitant tone, “…would you mind doing it? Please?”

“Sure, hon,” Howard nodded before blinking down at his phone and dialling the number, “what kind? Margherita?”

“Yeah, and with some arugula on top, please,” you spoke as you squeezed by a tower of messy moving boxes to enter the open kitchen of your new apartment, “thank you!”

Hearing his footsteps carry him deeper into the new home, his voice soon rumbled, muffled behind your bedroom door. Opening up the cardboard box that half blocked off your empty fridge, you dug through it till you found a glass, swiftly straightening back up and filling it up with water.

“How are you doing, cupcake?” you heard the soft voice of Walter, your uncle’s husband, as you turned off the tab, “you gonna be okay tonight? Because if you don’t want to be alone, we can stay.”

“No, it’s alright, I think I’m okay,” you took a tiny sip before placing the tall glass down on the counter, “you both gotta get up early tomorrow to open the bakery anyways.” 

“It’s never stopped us before. Do you remember when you were 11 and you watched that terrifying movie at some slumber party?” a smile twitched at the bald man’s lip from the memory, “I don’t think any of us slept for a whole week straight and the bakery still kept on running. If we could get through those sleepless nights of trying to convince you that our apartment wasn’t haunted, then we can get through this.” 

Stepping up closer to him, you caught his hand in yours and said, “I think I’m gonna be okay, but thank you, Walter, really, for everything, for this, for letting me move back home and letting me stay there for over a year.”

“Hey,” he squeezed your palm and ushered you to meet his gaze, “you do not need to thank us for that. It’s–…” he dropped the heavy comment he nearly uttered and instead let out a low sigh, “we love you. It was the very least we could do.”

“I love you too,” you heard your voice threaten a tremble of vulnerability, “so much.”

As the bedroom door then swung back open, out stepped Howard with an exhale, “alright, the pizza is on its way. You gonna be okay here?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a nod before walking them out. 

Peeking back at you over his shoulder as he swung his bright red scarf back on, Walter raised his brows tenderly, “promise that you’ll call us if anything happens, yeah?”

“Promise,” you breathed as you watched them creak open the front door and step out into the cold hallway, “love you, goodnight!”

“Goodnight, hon!” Howard waved over his shoulder at your visage in the doorway as the couple reached the stairs, “see you tomorrow! Try and get some rest, just head in whenever you get up.” 

“Okay,” a soft smile warmed your features. Lately, or the past year actually, they’d let you cut down on your work quite a bit so that your hours at the bakery were significantly less and the only days you were to get up before the sun did was on weekends.

“Bye!” they both called out loudly as they disappeared from your view before your own echo rang throughout the hallway.

“Bye!”

You didn’t manage to unpack much, only half of your books, before the buzzer rang obnoxiously, causing your feet to scramble to let the delivery guy up. 

Swiftly locating your backpack, you fished out your wallet just before a knock boomed at your door. 

“That’ll be twenty bucks,” the pimply-faced pizza guy spoke in a monotone voice as soon as you opened up. 

Catching the shadow of another figure ascend the staircase just before you began to dig through your wallet, his handsome and scruffy features were adorned with a pair of glasses that had a darkly crimson tint to them.

“Yep… uh… do you have change for a fifty?” 

“Nope,” he impatiently blinked before loudly popping his bright blue bubblegum.

“Oh, alright…” you felt your palms begin to sweat, “do you mind just waiting here for a second? I might have some more cash in a jacket… somewhere…”

But just before you could duck back inside, the suit-clad man who had stopped to unlock the door directly opposite yours, whipped his own wallet out and handed off the needed bucks, “here.”

Satisfied, the pizza guy accepted the change and shoved the wide box into your arms before dashing off. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you blinked over at your generous, new neighbour, “I can pay you back–”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open. 

“Thanks,” you uttered, slightly windblown in your threshold as he disappeared into his apartment. 

Slipping into your sneakers and hastily fastening them with sloppy bows, you slugged your jacket on and grabbed your bag. As you exited your apartment, the neighbouring door opened just as you locked up your own. 

“Oh, hi!” you squeaked over your shoulder as you turned the key, “good morning!” 

Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned to face him fully, shoving your bundle of keys into your pocket. Did he look even better than you remembered? Now no longer obscured by the terrible excuses this hallway had for lighting, the frosted window to your right illuminated every detail of him that you’d missed the first time around. 

“Morning,” he replied as he too locked his door behind him. 

Waiting a moment before you began to move your feet, you eyed his polished attire, “are you off to work?”

“Yep,” he nodded and fished out a folded-up cane from the inner pocket of his jacket, “you?”

“Yeah,” you sucked in a breath, “I’m Y/n, by the way, forgot to introduce myself the other night.”

“Matthew,” the bespectacled man extended his hand out for you to shake, “nice to meet you.” 

After ignoring the tingle his touch sent down your spine, the two of you began to descend the stairs.

“Thanks again for what you did with the–, oh! I should pay you back!” you reached into your deep coat pocket to locate your wallet, “I’m pretty sure I have–, how much was it?”

“You don’t have to, it’s fine, really,” he politely declined. 

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, your brows flew up, “seriously?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged as he then held the front door open for you to get out onto the street first. 

“Thank you, Matthew,” you slipped out, waiting a moment before you began to head off, “have a good day!”

“Yeah, you too,” he said, flicking out his cane to its full length, just before you both began to walk in the exact same direction. 

“Oh, wait,” you slowed as a giggle bubbled out of your lungs, “you’re also heading this way?”

“Oh, uhm, yeah.”

“Do you–, uh… I can wait for a little bit and let you get a head start if you–”

“Or you can just walk with me, if you’d like,” he suggested with a gentle smile that made your brain forget for just a split second where your destination was in the first place, “it’s fine with me, I don’t mind the company.”

“Okay,” you agreed in a quiet voice, returning to a brisk pace beside him. You didn’t take too many strides before a casual question nervously fell from your lips, “so, have you lived here long?” 

“In the apartment or Hell’s Kitchen?”

“Oh,” your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, “both, I guess.”

“I’ve been in the apartment for a while,” he told you, “but lived here in the neighbourhood pretty much all my life.”

“Yeah?” you smiled, maybe glancing over at him a bit too much for it to be safe as you walked, “that’s nice.”

“You?”

“Uhm, grew up in Brooklyn, moved here to live with my uncles when I was nine, after my parents passed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” his low tone emanated an air of kinship. 

“It’s alright. It was a long time ago, I was just a kid... anyways! Enough about me before I spill all of my childhood trauma to you,” you gracelessly changed the subject, “you are in a suit.”

“I–,” a faint laugh tumbled out past his lips before he joked, “I’d sure hope I am and didn’t accidentally change into something else.”

“No–, I mean, yes, obviously,” you felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, “that was just a very weird and backwards way of asking what you do for a living.”

“Ah,” his dark brows lifted in comprehension.

“Let me guess…” you fiddled with your fingers as you thought, “accountant? No… politician? No… funeral director?”

“Funeral di–,” Matthew chuckled, “no.”

“Do you work on Wall Street? Oh, please tell me you don’t because here I was just starting to think you were super cool.”

“No, I don’t work on Wall Street, but good to know that you think I’m cool,” he smirked, making you regret letting that information slip, “I’m a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” your eyes grew, “seriously?”

“Yep.”

“That’s–... that’s–… waow…” you uttered, completely dumbfounded by the imposing nature of his profession, “well, now I don’t wanna tell you what I do, because it’s so not as impressive.”

“Oh, come on,” he tilted his head, “now you have to tell me.”

“…I’m a baker,” you finally said, “actually,” stopping your stride, you briefly brushed his arm for him to do the same, “this is where I work, right here.” 

“Really?” 

“It’s called Buttercup Bakery,” you glanced up at the familiar storefront, “have you ever been in there?”

“No, never,” his head shook lightly as a small smile warmed up his features, “funny, my office is just a few minutes further down the street, I must have walked passed this place a thousand times but I never noticed it before.”

“Well, you know of its existence now…” you turned your head to gaze at his striking visage once more as he raised a hand to adjust his glasses, “do you wanna get a coffee or something? My treat, as thanks for the pizza.”

“I’d love to,” he sucked in a breath, “but I really have to get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you nodded lightly, “well, thanks for the walk, have a great day. Hope you win a bunch of cases and–, uh… I don’t know, help make the judicial system better,” you couldn’t help but physically cringed at your clumsy words. 

But your new neighbour didn’t seem to mind as he just chuckled before wandering off, “bye, Y/n.”

The small bell above the glass door to the bakery chimed softly as you pushed it open. The interior was simple, both in colour and design, but had a rustic charm to it that gave it a sense of home. Behind the counter, and the mouth-watering baked goods lined up and displayed behind the clear glass, stood Walter. Facing the long shelves adorned with various loaves, he grabbed a crusty baguette and slid it into an appropriately long brown paper bag.

Handing it off to the little old lady on the other side, he said, “here you are. That’ll be four dollars,” before she placed the money on the counter beside his half-read newspaper and strolled passed you, out of the bakery, “have a good day!”

Leaning back down to return to his paper, Walter didn’t glance up at you as he greeted, “hi, honey! You wanna hear your horoscope for today?”

Tugging down the zipper of your jacket, you joked self-reflectively as you began to shed your layers, “does it say that I’ll miraculously turn into a charming and charismatic adult instead of whatever this is?”

“…uh… no,” he furrowed his brow and finally shot you a brief glance, “it says that you're energized and creative. This new moon initiates two weeks of growing work, health and strength. Put your heart into your actions. Practice makes perfect. Oh, and it also says right here that the spelt flour bin needs refilling and that there are about a billion cardamom buns that need to be shaped.”

“Oh, it says all of that, does it now?”

Letting a tense breath go, you apprehensively let your fist meet the dark door in three shy knocks. 

As soon as it swung open, the sentence, “do you like croissants?” sputtered out passed your lips. 

Head reeling back slightly at the unforeseen and sudden question, Matt blinked, “what?” 

“Do you like croissants?” you repeated as if it wasn’t strange to just blurt out something like that out of the blue. 

“Uh,” a smile then crept up on his lips, “hello to you too, Y/n.”

“I mean, I’ve personally never met anyone who doesn’t care for them, but I’m sure they exist.”

“Sure, I like croissants.”

“Oh, great, wonderful!”

Leaning against his door, his head tilted as you failed to continue, “…did you just have a burning desire to know that fact about me?”

“Right, no, I–, uhm, there were a bunch leftover today that we didn’t sell, so purely just to not let any go to waste, I thought you’d like some,” you held up the crinkly paper bag for him to hear. 

It had been a lie, but he didn’t have to know that you’d set some aside for him before they all sold out, just to have an excuse to talk to him again. 

“Oh, thank you,” he held out his open palms, “that’s so nice of you.” 

As you handed the bag off into his grasp, you felt as if your heart might beat straight out of your chest.  

“…alright, well…” you stumbled slightly, “I should probably head off to bed. Weekends are always the busiest, so my shifts are usually really long and I have to get up like super early, so... goodnight then!” 

And with that you awkwardly whirled around and scurried the short distance into your own apartment, only faintly catching his warm chuckle as you disappeared. 

“Night.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #buttercup series #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock series #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matt murdock hurt/comfort

[foli-vora]

without you, part 2

matt murdock x f!reader

A/N: hey the title rhymes. Hi angels! Part 2 is finally here, by heavy demand! And uh... for those who thought I was gonna fix everything with this part?? No, I'm here to make it worse! Woo! (Don't hate me, I did warn you lmao). So, enjoy the angst! Hope it's worth the wait x

Summary: continuing on from Part 1 - You return after the ‘blip’. Five years is a long time, and a lot of things can happen in that time. Where does that leave you now?

Word count: somewhere in the 2.7k zone idk

Warnings: ANGST. Angst squared, if you will. Broken hearts everywhere. Broken hearted reader. Broken hearted Matty. A brief broken hearted Frank coming in for the rescue. Not a happy ending. Mentions of divorce and the religious thoughts surrounding that, the Blip and the devastation it would've caused, break ups, brief jealousy, heavy denial, anxiety, lots of crying and I just want to hold onto him forever & ever. This is unedited coz I'm lazy and like to just throw things out into the void and die like a warrior.

There’s a vicious, relentless pounding behind your temples when you finally begin to feel the darkness pulling at your mind recede. With the constant stab of pain, everything returns—the apparent lost time, the strange new world that had grown during your absence, the relationships that had also changed during those five years.

Five whole years.

It might as well have been an eternity.

Your whole life, everything you knew—gone. It doesn’t seem real, it’s just not possible, and yet here you are. Here you are in a world that still feels so familiar, and sickeningly not. Your thoughts are a vicious storm in your mind, merely intensifying the throb running along your forehead. Your system flutters between confusion, denial, mourning.

It’s enough to make you want to simply fall back into the blissful void of unconsciousness, until—

“Sweetheart?”

Matt. 

Your heart still jumps at his gentle rasp, a part of you longing to just soften into his hold and cling to him like you’d done so many times before, but you can’t. He’s not—he’s not your Matt. Not anymore. 

It’s hard to pull away from the fingers tracing your cheek, and when you open your eyes, they wince from the light shining through the large windows. He’s knelt on the floor beside you, a frown of concern creasing his brows as you slowly shift on weak limbs until you’re sitting upright on the leather.

You study his features through raw, hazy eyes, and it’s only now you notice the subtle changes you had missed upon your return to the apartment—the few more creases lining his face, the extra spatterings of grey strands amongst his dark tresses. His hair… it’s shorter too, now that you’re really looking. How had you not seen that? Not noticed?

Maybe it was the panic. It had to have been. You didn’t notice anything else when you ran in. Your surroundings had changed within a second, everything was all just so confusing and mad—you had just wanted him, you wanted home. Turns out, you had no home to return to. No one to return to. 

There must be so many others. The pain must be immense throughout the world. Lovers returning to mere memories. Parents returning to kids left behind, now years older and practically strangers. Children returning to homes that were no longer there, lost amongst the new world and without anyone familiar around them to find comfort in. God, they must be so scared.

Matt’s hand returns to your face, the backs of his fingers testing the feel of your forehead before ever so slowly trailing away until they rest where your pulse thrums through the skin of your throat. It’s not necessary—he’d hear it across town. Maybe he’s seeking physical reassurance that you’re really here, right in front of him.

“Talk to me,” he pleads quietly, “say something, anything.”

You find nothing worth speaking. You doubt you’d even have the strength to speak with how dry and heavy your tongue feels in your mouth. His hand moves, fingers hot on your skin as he cups the underside of your jaw and this time, you don’t quite have the strength to pull away.

All you want is this.

His touch, his presence—him.

“Sweetheart, I—” he stops, head tilting ever so slightly towards the door.

You watch him stiffen, tension rolling through his shoulders as he rises from his knelt position before turning towards the door to the apartment expectantly. It takes longer for your senses to catch up, but eventually the dull thud of boots hitting the flooring outside of the apartment hits your ears—

Frank.

Where was he through all of this? Had he been left to carry on with life, trying to make sense of a world left in ruin? Or had he been washed away with the breeze, just like half the planet? Universe? You want to ask Matt, but words seem to fade away on your tongue. 

He doesn’t bother knocking—he never has.

While there had been some stirrings of indifference between him and Matt after everything that happened, there was still a solid foundation of respect, which quickly extended to you the more you attempted to coax the beaten and bloodied man into your clutches for some much needed medical treatment. You were more than acquaintances, a little less than friends—just close enough for him to feel comfortable coming and going from the apartment should he have ever needed patching up.

“Apparently it’s been a while,” Frank mutters gruffly as a somewhat greeting once he’s stepped into the apartment, and you feel the same air of confusion and denial radiating from him.

He had been gone then, like you. How is he handling this? Does he feel as lost as you? As scared? You’d always thought him to be someone not exactly immune to the feeling, but at least stronger than others. As much as you feel for him, hurt for him, knowing exactly the type of thoughts and feelings that plague him, you find comfort in the fact that you weren’t alone in this.

Matt doesn’t respond, and Frank sighs tiredly, eyes flashing briefly to the side under his heavily bruised and swollen brow.

“I ain’t here to fight, Red.”

Matt’s tongue flicks over his lips and he gives a humourless huff, still not relaxing from his defensive stance. Maybe he was expecting Frank to be pissed and burst in like a raging bull with red in his vision, seeing as he and Karen had something brewing slowly between them all those years ago, but Frank doesn’t seem to be interested in any violence whatsoever.

You’re not even entirely sure what he’s here for.

“Well, Karen’s not here—”

“I know, she was with me,” Frank rumbles deeply, head tilting as he appraises Matt, “told me the happy news—congrats.”

It’s not insincere, but it’s damn near close. 

His gaze moves to you.

He studies the way you sit, drawn in on yourself and cuddling your chest in an effort to hold yourself together. You can feel how raw and swollen your eyes are, and when you finally manage to tiredly lift them to meet his, Frank seems to soften.

It’s only slight, imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know his mannerisms well, but you see it.

“I was thinkin’ you might need a place, after hearin’ about—” he swallows, jaw rolling ever so slightly. He exhales sharply and shifts on his feet, “You got anywhere to go?” 

He’s here for you?

Matt intervenes immediately. “She’s staying here, Frank—”

Staying here? In the apartment you used to live in? That he now lives in with another woman? Was his idea to leave you sleeping on the couch alone, while they sleep in your bed together? No, it’s not your bed anymore. It’s their bed. Their apartment.

Five years of Daredevil and regular concussions must’ve really killed some of his brain cells. Is he even still Daredevil? Maybe married life changed his perspective on his dangerous nightly habits. Maybe his perspective changed on a lot of things. Is he even the same Matt you had left behind?

Frank’s head tilts, his eyes narrowing into a scowl as they flick back to Matt. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t askin’ you—was I, Red?”

“No,” you finally rasp in reply to his earlier question before Matt could retort, voice rough and weak in your throat, “no, I don’t.”

He nods, expecting your answer. “You got a bag?”

“I don’t know if I have any things left,” you mutter, bitterly wondering where your belongings went. Storage? Donated? The trash? How long did they leave it, did Matt leave it before tossing it all away? Like you’d never even existed, like you’d never even mattered. “Do I have anything here, Matt?”

Matt baulks at the ice coating your tone, and it’s unfair. You know that. Deep down you know you’re being unfair, a part of your mind gently reminding you that you probably would’ve thought and done the same in his position should it have been reversed, but you don’t care.

The familiar bite of anger, pain, still stirs relentlessly in your system and it trumps all reason and logic.

You had a life, and now it’s in complete ruins.

What are you supposed to do with that?

Frank nods sagely, “We’ll get you some things, ain’t gotta worry about that. You comin’?”

As much as you want to reject the idea of leaving, as much as your heart screams at you to stay with Matt because he’s all you know, he’s all you have, and he was telling you how much he loved you only mere hours ago… you give a minimal nod, and shift to stand from the couch.

It wasn’t hours ago—it was five years.

Five years.

Matt instinctively steps in front of you to keep you from moving any further, his tongue darting across his lips in an apparent panic, “You’re going with him?”

“Can you give us a minute? I won’t be long,” you ask Frank quietly, aching at the way Matt’s anxiety seems to heighten at your words.

Frank gives a single nod, and then slips out, the door clicking quietly shut behind him. Matt ignores it, every sense focused in on you and the way your heart beats a broken rhythm in your chest, the way your nails pick at the cotton of your sleeves, the way fresh tears smell building on your lash line—

“I have nowhere else to go,” you mutter, body now numb to feeling and just utterly exhausted from the onslaught of emotions the day had thrust upon you. “I can’t stay here, Matt. I can’t. Seeing you two—God, it’ll kill me. I can’t do it.”

Why you? Why did it have to be you? 

A part of you wishes it would’ve been Karen in your place, uncaringly and unknowingly torn from her life to leave everything she ever loved behind, only to return to a world that had survived, that had moved on without her… and you don’t even have the energy to feel guilty for such a thought yet.

It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t even Matt’s.

“Sweetheart,” Matt pleads softly, hands seeking and taking your hands tightly, “just—just tell me what to do. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

The thought is immediate—would he leave her? Could you ask that of him? Could you expect him to just drop and abandon everything he’s built during your absence?

You want to.

You want to tell him to break it off with her as soon as physically possible, to kick her out so you could be at home where you’re comfortable and with him and just act like nothing happened—

—but you can’t.

You can’t bring yourself to say the words.

What would he think of you asking a question like that? Would he even do it? You know how he feels about divorce, what his religion thinks of divorce. His whole belief system, his life, his God… would he abandon it all for you?

Looking at him now, how he physically pleads with you with those soft, lost eyes looking for guidance, you believe that maybe, just maybe, he would. 

But you can’t ask that of him.

You could never, and would never, ask that of him.

Unless—

“Were you happy?” You ask softly, eyes bouncing between his where they rest just left of your face. 

He blinks, a slight frown forming between his eyes in an effort to make sense of your unexpected words, “What?”

“Before I—” you take a breath, tongue rolling along your lips to moisten the sudden dry skin, “—before I just materialised back onto the street… were you happy? With your life? With her?”

Without me?

Say no.

God, please say no.

You begin to wonder why you asked. Maybe you’re a glutton for punishment, maybe you think nothing could possibly hurt any more than it already does, but when his expression falters, when his mouth opens and nothing seems to make it past his lips, you know that’s not possible.

This… this seems to hit the hardest.

He was happy.

He was happy before you came back.

He was happy without you. 

And it’s… good.

It is.

Of course you don’t want him to be anything but that. He had found what he wanted from life—some normality, some peace, and it’s with that understanding that you realise you have no place here anymore. At least not with him. You have no part in his life now, and it shreds that last little untouched piece of your hopeful heart to absolute ruins.

Denial still pulls at your mind, still blatantly refuses to accept that five years had actually passed. You’d been nothing but a distant memory to him, to your friends, to the world, and yet, everything is still so vividly fresh for you. You only got out of bed, held him, kissed him, a few hours ago—a few fucking hours!

Five years.

“It’s okay,” you mutter, as his saddened eyes flutter in a panic, “I want that for you, Matt. I’ve always wanted that for you, even if that means I’m not—that we’re not—”

You ache at the thought of being apart from him, a feeling he had already experienced and endured. 

“Three years,” he says quietly, brokenly, a slow gathering of tears building along his lash line, “three years I searched, I waited, I prayed… if I had known—if I had known you… I wouldn’t have—”

—moved on. 

You envision Matt lost in the organised pews with dozens of other faceless mourners, on his knees and weeping into his closed hands, begging for the strength to finally let you go. He was granted it, after enduring agony for such a stretch of time, and now it’s all fallen to pieces at your return.

“It’s okay,” you repeat softly, the feeling of your heart beating in your throat choking the words, “it’s okay.”

“No,” he shakes his head, face creasing as the tears begin to make their way down his cheeks, “no, it’s not. I’ve only just gotten you back. You’re back, and now—now I—God. I can’t say goodbye. Not again. I can’t.”

“So don’t,” you say simply, a fresh build of your own tears streaking your cheeks, “we won’t say goodbye. Just… just forget. Forget I ever came back, Matt. Everything will be as it was.”

He recoils sharply, as if you physically struck him. “I can’t do that—”

“Yes, you can. You have to, we all have to.”

“No, I won’t—”

“You told me to tell you,” you croak weakly, the feel of his coarse stubble piercing the soft skin of your palm as you cradle his cheek, “you told me to tell you what to do, and that you’ll do it. Well, this is it, Matt. This is what I’m telling you to do—forget I ever came back. It’ll be easier for everyone. You can keep what you had—what you have, and I—”

And you?

What will you do?

Where will you go?

Your hand falls from his face, only for it to be snatched up and returned to its previous spot with his own pressed tightly against it to keep it there. His tears smear against your skin, the evidence of his heartbreak an obvious reminder that he never let go completely.

There’s something still held for you within him, it just wasn’t the same as when you left.

His forehead comes to rest against your own, and you weaken into the familiar comfort of his touch, just for a moment. You don’t want to let go, don’t even know if you can. There's nothing left to be said, nothing left to be worked out. This is just it.

Why does it have to be this way? Your stomach churns at the idea of walking out for good. How can you? Nothing has changed for you—everything you feel for him is right there, right there where it’s always been, and you can’t do anything with it.

You indulge in the moment a little longer, stretching out to softly press your lips to his with the bittersweet taste of a loving goodbye—one last time. You savour the feel of him, his lips, so warm, so soft and sweet and familiar—

—and then pull away, the air filling the space between you lingering with the memory of what could have been.

He lets your hand fall away this time, pained haunted eyes scrunching closed as you further the distance between you until you’re at the door to the apartment. The quiet exhale of a sob reaches your ears as you open the door, and you dare not look back at Matt falling apart as you close it softly behind you.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock imagine #daredevil fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

the lakes - m. murdock

a/n: hey guys so i've been struggling a lot with the fact that i might have hearing loss (i'm going to the doctor next week) and as always i am projecting, but i am not 100% sure everything in this fic is accurate and for that i apologize. but it's my little passion project and i hope you enjoy <3 as always, comments and reblogs are always loved and appreciated! warnings: hearing loss, hearing aids, tinnitus, reader struggling with being disabled, some parts are more vulnurable and don't have the reader being like overly confident in their disability, matt being soft, some suggestive behavior at the end, kissing, nicknames, pretty pg-13 honestly word count: 3.0k summary: your hearing aids run out of battery, and you're forced to struggle through a day of ringing ears and being deaf. matt helps, as he always does. pairing: matt murdock x hard of hearing!reader now playing: the lakes - taylor swift "take me to the lakes/where all the poets went to die/i don't belong/but my beloved, neither do you."

“Are you deaf?”

“What?”

You’re eighteen, home from college for the first time since fall break. Your family sits around for Thanksgiving, and there are so many people talking. There’s about thirteen people at this long dining room table, and they are all talking at once. You’re sitting next to your sister, but you can’t hear her well.

You know she’s speaking, and you’re sure you’re yelling, but you’re frustrated.

“I said, are you deaf? I repeated myself like, four times!”

You feel your face flush.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. You’re mumbling, and it’s loud in here.”

Your sister looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I’m right next to you, and I’m not mumbling. In fact, no one is yelling, either.”

You poke your fork at your sweet potatoes and feel hot, angry tears in your eyes as you avoid everyone’s gaze.

Your mom sits across from you, and frowns, planning to tell you to make an appointment at the student health center when you get back to campus.

She doesn’t even have to. You’ve booked one by the time she says it to you.

At the student health center, they administer a hearing test, and then refer you to a specialist for further testing. You call your mom, crying and she gently comforts you, before driving to the nearest bookstore and picking up a book on hearing impairments and a copy of ASL for Dummies.

At the specialist, they do another round of tests. Your doctor tells you that you do in fact have hearing issues and that you should come back in a year for more testing, to see if your hearing gets worse. For now, you get a doctor’s note that requires all your professors to take your hearing impairment into consideration. The process for getting that applied at your university is painful, and only gets worse through your years there.

Before you get to law school, your doctor tests you again, and tells you how your hearing has been decreasing in quality in the past few years. He says that you’ll need hearing aids to regulate it. You cry because you cannot afford that.

You get captioning accommodations throughout law school, as well as a note taker for certain classes that are entirely lecture based. You still try to take your own notes, but it frustrates you that suddenly you need all this help. Your own notes are incomprehensible and often miss key parts of the lecture as you sit for a few minutes trying to decipher what your professor had said a few minutes prior.

You go into corporate law after law school, choosing to stay out of court initially because you find yourself frustrated that you wouldn’t be able to process all of what’s going on due to the many voices.

You stay at this company long enough to get your hearing aids, long enough to pay your loans, and long enough to save up a good fund for your hearing aid needs.

You quit your job and get hired at Nelson, Murdock & Page as an interim while you decide what you want to do.

With your hearing aids, life isn’t so frustrating anymore. You find yourself enjoying casual chatter and not worrying about processing what your friends are saying. At family dinners, you take your hearing aids out when you’re mad at your family, to which your stepdad, another hearing aid user, always laughs.

And, despite the pay not being stellar at your job, you love it. You love working with people who need help, love fighting injustice, and you love your coworkers.

...

If only Matt Murdock would reciprocate your feelings towards him.

You’ve been dancing this dance for months. You come into work with coffee and stutter when you get to his doorway.

You wonder if he’ll ever know how desperately you want him.

You go about your days quietly, going to the bar with them at the end of a long week. You love your friends and find yourself hoping they know how much you love them.

Karen and Foggy, as well as Foggy’s fiancé, know about your hearing aids since they sit sort of clunkily on your ears.

You don’t tell Matt, though, not at first.

You know how bad it is, to not even tell your blind crush that you have hearing aids. But you’re embarrassed. It makes you sound like an old person even though you’re in your twenties.

But when Matt crawls into your window late at night, bleeding, you don’t even flinch as he crashes onto your floor behind you. You’re reading, your hearing aids out, and he’s unsure why you can’t hear him. Your heartbeat had no reaction, it’s like you don’t even realize he’s there.

He taps you on your shoulder and you turn quickly, and gasp, before starting to sign at him. Even in his disoriented state, he knows you’re doing something with your hands and moving your mouth. At first, he thinks that he might have stuff clogging his ears, but then he realizes you’re signing, probably because you think Daredevil isn’t blind.

He takes off his helmet.

“Matt?” You say, and it comes out a little louder than it should, because you can’t hear yourself to gage how loud you’re being.

He says something, and your gaze focuses on his mouth, where you can barely make out what he’s saying.

“I can’t hear you.” You say, softer now. You reach over to your bedside table and put your hearing aids on. By the time you look back, Matt has passed out on the ground. Oh fuck.

You get your first aid kit and begin to work on his wounds. When you’re done, you pull him onto your couch, now stained with his blood, and watch as he sleeps. Blood covers your hands, and you listen to him breathing.

When he wakes up that morning, you’re asleep on the couch, and when you feel him start to stir. You grab your hearing aids, and turn them on, before watching him wake.

He says your name softly, and you take his hand in yours.

“Hey.. You.. You’re Daredevil...”

“You’re deaf.”

“Hard of hearing. Not fully deaf, just… My right ear is a lot better than my left, but without my hearing aids I’m close to deaf, yeah…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were Daredevil?”

“I was scared. Scared that… That you would view me differently, scared that you wouldn’t like me as much.”

“I was scared too..”

“When did you start losing your hearing?”

“In college. I realized it when I went home for Thanksgiving, and then it got worse from there..” You tell him. A hand reaches out to your face, and you lean into it, letting your cheek rest in his palm. His fingers trail up towards your ear and gently run his fingers over your hearing aid.

“Thanks for stitching me up.” He says softly.

“No problem.”

“The hearing aid does explain the buzzing I always hear when you’re around.”

“You can hear my hearing aids?”

“Apparently. I can hear a lot of things. I have heightened senses. You use pomegranate shampoo and had red velvet cake for dessert tonight. Your heart is racing.”

Your face flushes.

“I can turn them off if it’s bothering you.”

“How would you hear me, then?” He has a point.

“I just don’t want them to bother you.”

“Don’t offer to hide your disability just to make other people more comfortable.”

You kiss him when he says this, in a careful way. You’re gentle, making sure not to hurt him as you do. He lays there and lets you kiss him, his hands on your face. You realize you had no reason to be scared that Matt might reject you for your disability, because he is the only person in your everyday life who really gets how it is to have a disability that affects all aspects of your life.

You trace the healed scars on his skin as you kiss him gently, careful not to hurt him. You promise that you’ll kiss him more passionately when he isn’t freshly stitched up.

• • •

A few weeks passed after that night. You and Matt start seeing each other more and more as you fall deeper in love. You find it silly that you wasted so many days, afraid of talking to each other and maybe disappointing each other over the fact that you both lack a vital sense.

But Matt never views it that way. You wear hearing aids and it’s perfectly fine because most of the time, you aren’t struggling to hear him and cannot communicate with him, and he can’t see when you can’t hear him.

Instead, Matt loves that he can hear your hearing aids buzzing softly because it always alerts him that you’re there. He can hear your heartbeat and smell you, too, but it’s not quite the same as this soft little buzzing that reminds him often of a bee.

Except for this one day.

You slept over at Matt’s on a Thursday and really, you should have known better. You knew your hearing aids were going to need a battery change soon, but you’ve been so busy with work and with Matt, and worrying about him at night, that you’re tired. So tired that you forget to pick up batteries before your hearing aids die.

You sneak out of Matt’s apartment early, sending him a text that you needed to go get changed before work. Really, you want to avoid the fact that you wouldn’t be able to hear him. But he didn’t respond to your message. You decide that you don’t care at this moment and head out to work, debating the right way to tell your coworkers about your predicament.

When you get to work, Foggy is immediately talking to you, and you are tense.

“Foggy—” He’s not stopping. It sounds like he’s mumbling, and there’s this ringing in your ears. “Foggy, I can’t hear you.” He finally looks to you, and says something, you make it out to be a phrase of confusion. “My hearing aids died.” You tell him. You’re frustrated, and Matt isn’t in the office yet.

You deem this as a blessing and a curse. Foggy goes to tell Karen what’s going on and as you’re settling down for the day, you get a text. You hope it’s from Matt, but when you see Karen’s name, you falter slightly.

‘Hey! Foggy told me what was going on. We’ll have your calls redirected to one of us and you can spend the day doing housekeeping and paperwork.’

‘Thanks’, You respond, “Sorry about all this. I’m usually on top of my battery life.”

“Don’t worry about it. These things happen.”

“Still, thanks. Did you hear from Matt at all?”

“No, he probably just slept in late. He should be in soon.”

You try to ignore your anxieties over his absence even though you know that when he does come into the office, you’ll have to struggle to communicate with him all day.

So, for the first hour or so of your day, you try to get some work done but there’s a light ringing in your ears that’s getting worse and worse as you attempt to try and focus on other things. Everything sounds so muffled. You’re so focused that your teeth grind against each other, your muscles tense, as you attempt to try and block out the ringing in your ears.

You have a feeling that by the time you leave today, those hot frustrated tears will be threatening to pour once more.

You don’t hear Matt as he steps into your office and stands by your left side, where you’re almost completely deaf. He stands there for about ten minutes, trying to get your attention before he realizes the light buzzing of your hearing aids are not there.

You must not have them in.

So his hands find your shoulders gently, and instead of tensing, you actually relax under his touch, because you realize that it has to be Matt. A slight turning of your head confirms it and you lean into his touch.

Neither of you say much for a while, deciding to let your frustration slowly dissipate as you lean into his warm hands. They stay on your shoulders and upper arms, rubbing gentle patterns into your skin.

After a good ten minutes of this, his body shifts to your right side and he leans down, before speaking at full volume, maybe even a little louder, just to make sure you can hear him. It still sounds like he’s mumbling, but you can hear him.

“Forgot your hearing aids?”

“Batteries died.” You tell him. “You never answered me.”

“My phone died. I forgot my charger, too.. Are you gonna be okay to work all day?”

“Mhm..” You smile softly, “You’re gonna have to help answer calls, though.”

He kisses your cheek, and you lean into the warmth.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says, a soft smile on his face.

The day goes by pretty much as you expect it. You spend it doing paperwork and dodging phone calls, your tinnitus gets worse as the day goes on. By the time the day is finally winding down, Karen sends you one final text.

“Matt’s staying a little late to catch up on some work. Want me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

You realize that because she and Foggy are heading home, you’ll be able to sit with Matt, maybe get a little bit of peace. You’re thankful, too, because you’re about to lose your mind over all of this. The ringing is just getting to be too much.

You wait a few minutes after Foggy and Karen head home before you go into Matt’s office. He smiles at you and gestures for you to come in, and you do. You lean against his desk, as he speaks loud enough now that you can hear him.

“I’ll just be a few more minutes, Bee.” Even the soft-spoken nickname doesn't get you out of your funk, too busy wanting to get on your hands and knees and beg God for your hearing back.

That doesn’t usually happen, but every once in a while you ask him for a normal life.

God sends you a blind man as your soulmate, because he must think that the whole thing is quite funny.

“Okay…”

You feel hot tears pooling in your eyes as you bite your tongue and dig your fingernails into your skin. You almost draw blood.

“What’s wrong?” He can tell that something is wrong. He can always tell, and you’re foolish to think anything less of him, and even more foolish to forget his super senses. A part of you bites back a bitter feeling, since you wish you could’ve had super smell, super sight, super taste, anything in exchange for your hearing. You were not given an exchange, only forced to give, with nothing in there for you.

You forget that your boyfriend has super senses and can taste and smell your salty tears and blood in the air. Damn him.

“Loud… Ringing in my ears, my tinnitus is always really bad when I don’t use my hearing aids for a while..” You say softly. “It’s just.. it really hurts...” You confess, tears slipping down your face.

“Sweetheart..” He takes off his glasses and rests them on the desk in front of him. “C’mere..” You can’t hear that last part, but the way he opens his arms gives you the hint.

You sit on his lap, burying your face in the crook of his neck with a shaky sigh. You feel the thumps of his heartbeat and hold onto it, the ringing in your ears slightly muffled by his skin. It doesn’t fix the problem, but it helps.

His hands linger on your body, gentle caresses of your knee or thigh happening here and there. He just wants you to know he’s there, in the same way he desires when everything becomes too much for him.

“”m sorry..” you say gently, and he just hushes you softly, kissing your head. He traces patterns into your skin. He traces words into it as well.

L-O-V-E.

S-W-E-E-T-H-E-A-R-T

He traces your name, his, and your last names.

You kiss him softly, realizing that you might never be 100% okay with your hearing, but Matt will help. He’ll understand. He loves you, and it’s enough to be confident in your future again.

You spend only a few minutes more in the office before you decide to head home, his hand never leaving yours.

You make it back to his apartment and Matt plugs his phone in in case you need to text him and get his attention. You wind up stealing a pair of sweatpants, a tee shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks. The two of you wind up tangled together on his couch.

Your ear is pressed against his chest as he gently caresses your skin, occasionally moving your hair from your face. He mumbles sweet nothings, and while you can’t hear them, you feel the rumbling vibrations in his chest, and you relish in them. You bathe in the feeling of his heartbeat thumping against his skin.

You fall asleep like this, with Matt touching you and talking in this low tone to make sure you can feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest and in his throat. It’s enough just knowing he’s there. That this thing you thought would deem you unlovable is no match for Matt Murdock, who on your wedding day will throw up the sign for ‘I love you’ in ASL.

For Matt Murdock, who, when you’re taken for loving the devil, will find you and take you into his arms and kiss you so that you know he’s real.

For Matt Murdock, who touches you in all the right ways so you can hear the sounds of your own pleasure.

For Matt Murdock, who will gently trace patterns into your skin when you need to be grounded. For Matt Murdock, who feels himself slipping further and further in love with you and finds himself searching for the soft buzz of your hearing aids when you walk into the room.

#matt murdock #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murodock hurt/comfort #matt murdock angst #matt murdock imagine #daredevil fic #daredevil x reader #daredevil fanfiction #hoh!reader #hard of hearing!reader #deaf!reader #self indulgent

[peterman-spideyparker]

Just One Wish (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I'm very slowly chipping away at the fic in my idea notebook I put up in those two polls maybe about a month and a half ago, but I keep adding fics, which is good and bad - good because it's proof my idea gremlin isn't retreating, but bad because it's so many ideas and not enough righting time. But, I digress. POV does switch halfway from Reader to Matt, but remains in second person. Enjoy :)

Summary: Matt pulls out all of the stops for your birthday to make it special and memorable for you. But neither you or Matt are prepared for the consequences of a sweet, genuine birthday wish that is granted by a magical candle.

Warnings: Fluff (Matt being the sweetest and most endearing boyfriend who has so much love for the reader. They're both just so love struck for one another, talk about big nerd idiots in love being all kissy and cute - seriously, I noticed while proofing I made them kiss a lot), angst (fear/trauma, unexpected blindness)

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 3,498

“Matt!” you giggle as he guides you down the hallway to your apartment, his hands over your eyes. “I appreciate the effort, but, I’m gonna have to be the one to unlock my front door.”

“Just trust me on this, angel,” Matt laughs, leaning forward and kissing the crown of your head as you come to a stop at your door. Moving the position of one of his hands so it covers both of your eyes, he opens the barrier and guides you in. Resting the hand that he opened the door with on your waist, he pulls the other from your face and turns on the light.

“Surprise!” he hums, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. You gasp in delight as you see the lovely dinner for two that’s set up in your kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind that I set this all up here. I wanted to make you this new recipe I read about, but I didn’t have some of the equipment I needed at my place.”

“Matty,” you grin, twisting in his grasp and draping your arms around his neck. “You can come over here and use any of my equipment any time you need.”

“Oh?” he smirks.

“Mmm,” you hum, leaning into his body for a sweet kiss. “I can’t wait to give it a taste.”

“Well, it’s lucky for you that the next thing on my plan for the evening was enjoying this meal for you.”

“I think you’re forgetting something, though.”

“Am I?”

You nod with a smile knowing he can feel your head move as you lean in for a deep kiss, feeling how his arms hold you flush to his body, even as you move your kisses down his neck to suck a little mark into his skin. “There we go,” you grin in delight. “A fitting appetizer.”

Matt chuckles, kissing you sweetly once more before guiding you over to your table and pulling out your seat before you clink your wine glasses together and dig in and talk about your days.

“This has been an amazing night,” you smile, taking Matt’s hand in yours as we sit as the table. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I wish I could’ve done more,” he hums, his thumb brushing back and forth over your knuckles.

“Matt, you left me a sweet voicemail to wake up to, surprised me with coffee on the sidewalk, sent me gorgeous flowers at work, and made a fabulous dinner for me. This has been the best birthday of mine to date.”

“I’m glad I could make you happy. That’s all I could ever want.” He lifts your hand and presses a long kiss to the digits. “I do have another surprise for you.”

“Matt—.”

“Just sit tight.”

With another kiss to the back of your hand, he gets up from the table, grabbing a small gift bag and two plates, each with a slice of the moistest chocolate cake you could ever imagine—one with a candle in it.

“Happy birthday, angel,” he smiles as he puts the plate and gift down in front of you, kissing you long and slow.

“Thank you,” you murmur against his lips, kissing him again before he sits down next to you.

“Make a wish.”

“Matt, I have everything I could have ever want, and I have never been happier.” I just wish you could see just how happy you make me. You blow out the candle and lean back in for another kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you more. Now, open your gift.”

With a chuckle, you grab the bag, pulling out the tissue paper and revealing a small little jewelry box.

“Matt,” you start.

“Don’t say I didn’t have to,” he counters. “It’s your birthday, I love you, and you deserve it.”

With a little sigh, you open the box and let out a little sigh, revealing a beautiful bar necklace.

“On one side, it has the time we met in braille, and the other side has the coordinates of where we met engraved in it,” he explains. “The way that the clasp is on the necklace, it can be worn either way, and you’ll always have a little piece of me, a little piece of us wherever you go.”

“Matt, this . . . You didn’t have to. This is the sweetest, most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received.”

“I’d bring you the stars if I could.”

You lean forward again and kiss him once more. 

“I love you,” I smile.

Matt kisses you a few more times before taking the necklace out of the box, securing it on your neck before taking some frosting from your cake and dolloping it on your nose.

“Hey!” you laugh.

“You just look cute enough to eat,” he grins. 

“So do you.” You do the same, swiping some chocolate frosting on his nose before you fork some cake into your mouth. “Oh wow, this is delicious.”

“The secret ingredient is pudding,” he smirks. “Vanilla, not chocolate.”

“Really? It’s amazing.”

“Yeah. You are.”

The way he’s staring at you makes you blush, and you dip your gaze down to the cake as you continue to feel the heat rise up to your ears. He takes your hand in his and holds onto it lovingly as you eat, talking about everything and noting at all. When you finish your slices, Matt insists that you sit on the couch as he cleans up and does the dishes, to which you happily open your dishwasher and tell him to load it up. He chuckles, shaking his head and muttering something about “only because it’s your birthday” and “because you're so cute”. When you close the appliance, you take his hand and pull him toward you, holding him close and kissing him, growing weak in the knees when he wraps one arm around your waist as the other slides up to hold the back of your head, guiding you down on your couch cushions for a comfier make out spot.

“Hey,” you whisper, smiling as you pull back and bite your lip, feeling warm and fuzzy from his embrace.

“Hey,” he parrots, trying to lean back in for another kiss, but you put your finger to his lips.

“I, um, I think you should head out for the night,” you whisper. 

“I’m not done celebrating with you, angel. In fact, there was one more thing that I had in store for us that could take up quite a bit of time.”

“I’d love nothing more for that, honestly. But you need to be at the courthouse by 8 a.m. tomorrow.”

“I know. But I can still spend the night with my girlfriend on her birthday and make it there no problem.”

“Not if we did what I had in store for tonight. We start with that thing we did at New Years, and, well . . . I’d like to keep some things a surprise for you.”

Matt’s eyebrows shoot up, his mouth slightly agape as his cheeks burn a bright pink you’ve only ever seen once before. “Happy birthday to you,” he chuckles nervously.

“Mm, very much. Which is exactly why I’m asking for a raincheck for tonight.”

“Okay,” he breathes. “A few more kisses, though?”

“I’m not gonna want you to leave if I have a few more kisses.”

“That’s my hope.”

You moan in frustration and attraction as you lean into him. “Sneaky devil.”

“Can you blame me for trying?”

“No. But I can blame you for it almost working how you want.”

He gives me a little pout and a shrug. “Worth it.”

Pulling him back in, you kiss him long and slow.

“Want any of the leftovers from your kick-ass dinner?” you hum as you run your fingers through his hair.

“It’s all yours, sweetheart,” he whispers with another peck to your lips. “Besides, I think I’ll find myself over here tomorrow one way or another.”

You chuckle and nod, leaning in for a few more kisses before you bring yourselves to your entryway. “Text me when you get home.”

“Okay,” he hums, tucking some hair behind your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

With one final lingering kiss, Matt slides on his glasses and unfolds his cane, slipping out of your door and into the night.

The piano tones of your phone gently nudge you awake, much to your annoyance. Matt was quick to text you when he got home, at which point you started your nighttime routine, but it just didn’t feel like you got enough sleep. Well, I guess it’s nothing a cup of coffee can’t fix. With a reluctant huff, you roll over and press at your phone to turn off your alarm, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You're beyond confused when you open your lids and find a blackness around you rather than your bedroom.

What?

You rub your eyes a few times. You didn’t think it was your allergy season just yet—why would your eyes be swollen shut? You open your eyes again, even making sure that they’re open with your fingers, and quickly grow terrified when you still see nothing but darkness. No matter how hard you blink, it’s the same, over and over. Pure nothingness.

“H-Hey Siri?” you stutter, doing your best to steady your breath. “Call Leslie.”

“Calling Leslie - mobile,” your phone says, immediately beginning to ring.

“Hey (Y/N),” she greets.

“Hey, Leslie,” you say as calmly as possible. “I’m gonna have to take today off. Matt cooked me a new dish for my birthday, and I don’t think it sat right with me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Just feel better, okay? It’s no fun being sick around the time of your birthday. Rest up, and stay hydrated.”

“Will do. Thanks, Les.”

When you hang up the phone, you burst into tears.

How did this happen? What should you do? How to you tell Matt?

“Oh Matty,” you weep, your fingers brushing against the necklace he gave you. “I wish you were here. I wish I didn’t ask you to go last night.”

“Matty,” your voice stirs him from his sleep. He hears it over and over, but it grows more distant as he is pulled from his sleep. Rolling over in bed, he feels around and smacks at his alarm clock.

7:14 a.m.

Fuck. He’s gonna be late if he doesn’t get moving right now. Grumbling, he rubs his eyes and opens them, screaming when he doesn’t see the usual black that he’s been accustomed to for over two decades. It’s bright, distinct, clear . . . He can see. Covering his eyes, he pulls his hands back and gently tries to open them, adjusting to the clouded light shining through the windows of his loft.

This . . . This can’t be happening. What’s going on?

Matt holds out his hands in front of them, seeing the digits he uses to feel his surroundings, to decipher little bumps in paper to read, his tools of justice at night, what he uses to hold on to you.

You. His girlfriend. The person that he loves most in this entire world. 

A happy, breathy chuckle escapes his lips as he shoots out of bed. Although he can maneuver his apartment without any trouble, having a perfect mind map of the floorpan, he’s like a deer just learning how to walk now that he can see, having little control over his legs as he approaches his bathroom to find a mirror. Stunned, Matt sees himself staring back—brown hair disheveled from sleep, a steady stubble on his face, old, faded scars from fights long ago, some fresher bruises on his arms, and the small love bite you worked into his neck last night. 

It’s . . . It’s odd to see himself. Last time he had any semblance of what he looked like, he was a nine year old kid, scrawny and scraggly with pretty prominent freckles and a round baby face. As he leans in closer to the mirror, he can see what while he still has freckles, they’re far more faded, his jaw is much more prominent, and he realizes the description of his eyes that you give every now and then are pretty accurate.

You’ll be so thrilled. He has to go see you right now and tell you.

Foggy. Foggy. Foggy.

With trembling hands and a jittery heart, Matt darts from his bathroom back to his bedroom, trying to rely on his hearing for the location of his phone rather than his newfound sight.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he hears his friend say.

“Hey, Fog,” he says, his voice trembling.

“You good, man?”

“Um, yeah,” he lies. “Pre case jitters, I guess.”

“You getting pre case jitters? You never get those.”

“I, um, I don’t think I slept well last night, that’s all.”

“I’ll get you coffee from that place you like on the way to the courthouse, because you’re already late, and I’ve already gotten you the coffee. Haul your ninja ass down here. I’ll see you soon.”

“Y-Yeah. See you soon, Fog.”

Matt rubs his eyes after he hangs up, just to make sure that he’s not dreaming. He can see. Everything feels quiet. Things feel comfortable, but after so many years of heightened sensitivity, it all feels wrong. 

But he can see. He’ll go outside and get to see the sky, he’ll be able to see his apartment, his workspace, his friends, and when the day is done, he’ll finally be able to see you. He’ll finally be able to see just how bright your smile actually is, how your eyes will twinkle when he tells you that he loves you.

But right now, he needs to get to the courthouse.

“(Y/N)?” Matt calls out into the apartment, using his key to undo the lock. “Angel, it’s me. I’ve got some good news.”

He strains his ears, but your place is quieter than usual. When he listens harder, he can hear your soft sobs gently echoing in the apartment. Moving through carefully, his heart racing, he tries to locate the source, seeing how pictures of the two of you, your family, and friends decorate your home, the little things here and there that are wonderful splashes of your personality all around. But your cries are what prevent him from lingering. Whenever he hears you cry, it makes him want to die, but to hear sobs like this the day after your birthday? There’s nothing he wouldn’t give to make that pain and hurt and sadness go away. 

“(Y/N)?” he calls gently in your bedroom doorway. 

You sniffle, looking up at him with a red and puffy tear-streaked face. “Matt?” you croak. 

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” Moving in the dark, he squats down and sits by your side, immediately wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. “It’s okay, angel. What’s going on?”

“I-I can’t see.” Your voice cracks as your body trembles, holding back your tears. 

“What?” he breathes. You were fine last night. You were absolutely okay—buzzing with happiness. 

“I woke up and I couldn’t see. Everything was so loud, there were these awful smells, and my pajamas felt like sandpaper. It’s like everything was dialed up. Everything is just so dark, Matty. I-I-I’ve never felt so alone.”

“How—you didn’t go to work, did you? Why didn’t you call me?” Why didn’t I come to you sooner? Matt’s never been more mad at himself. 

“No, I called out sick. I was scared, and shocked, and . . . I don’t know. You deal with this every day, Matty. You have for years. Me calling to complain seemed . . . wrong.”

“Angel—.”

“It’s stupid, but, I didn’t know what to do! I woke up to darkness and everything was overloaded. It was too much.”

You start to weep freely, and Matt holds you even closer, stroking your hair and positioning you so your ear is right over his heart. He knows that whenever it all becomes too much for him, your heartbeat is the only thing that can effectively soothe him, and Matt prays that it’ll do the same for you. 

“I’m so sorry, angel,” he breathes. “We’ll figure this out. We’ll get you help.”

“I’m going to be right here for you, every step of the way. Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

You sit in his arms like a wounded bird for a little longer, the tears still coming, only quieter now. 

“I’m scared,” you finally say.

“Look at me, angel,” he whispers, wiping your tears away off of the apples of your cheeks. “There we go.” God, you’re beautiful. He already knew a prayer was answered when you came into his life, but getting to see you makes his heart grow so much. “Whatever is going on, we’ll figure it out. We’ll get through it. I promise.”

You nuzzle your face into his hand, and he feels like he could jump over the moon seeing how tender you look as you kiss the heel of his hands. 

“You said you had some good news where you came in,” you say, your voice hoarse. 

“Y-Yeah,” he nods, clearing his throat. “I, um, I got a new record. That James Taylor one you like.”

“Really?” you say, your eyebrows lifting. 

“Mm,” he smiles tenderly through his lie. “I figured I’m always hearing you sing in the shower, it’ll be nice to hear it on nights where we don’t see one another, cuz I’ll hear it and think of you.” He gets an idea, smirking mischievously. “What’s the one you always sing? Whenever I see your smiling face, I have to smile myself, because I love you, yes I do. And when you give me that pretty little pout, it turns me inside out. There’s something about you baby, I don’t know.” His singing gets you to smile and giggle. That’s my girl. The way you look now, even though it’s after a torrent of tears, it’s an image he wish he could freeze in time. If you look this beautiful and happy coming out of fear and grief, he can only imagine how beautiful you look when you wake up, how beautiful when you’re excited, how beautiful when he can feel you staring at him like he’s the center of your universe. Your face is something that he’ll never forget for as long as he lives. “Isn’t it amazing a man like me can feel this way? Tell me how much longer, it can grow stronger every day.”

You smile endearingly at him, one of you hands loosely cradling the side of his face as you pull him in for a kiss, his body leaning over you like a warm cage. 

“I love you so much, Matt,” you breathe. “So, so much.”

“I know,” he whispers, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. “I love you more than I could ever describe. You’re my light in the dark, and I’ll forever be thankful for you.”

Matt caresses your face some more before pulling you in for another kiss, full of love and tenderness. You two sit, holding one another for he doesn’t know how long, but long enough to know that you’re calm, past your violent wave of fear. He presses a long kiss to your temple, growing confused and more alert as things become louder, smells stronger, texture tougher, his world darker. 

“Hey,” he says, adjusting so his body twists toward you, facing you head on to get a good look at you as his vision grows weaker and darker at the edges. 

“Yeah?” you hum.

“I just want to remember you. Just how you are right now. How much I love you. How much I’ll always love you.”

“Sap,” you grin, the smirk quickly growing into your big, bright smile. He’s never been more in love. “I love you so much, Matty. Never forget that.”

“I never will,” he breathes just as the last specks of color and light fade from his view, bringing him back to a reality he’s known for almost all of his life. 

“Matt?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“I-I can see again,” you stutter. 

“You can?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how—.”

Matt leans forward, pressing his lips to your forehead for a long, lingering kiss. “It’s okay, sweetheart. As long as you’re feeling back to normal, that you’re okay, that’s all I could ask for.” He tucks some of your hair behind your ear before kissing you once more. “How about we go to bed? It’s been a long day for the both of us. Tomorrow is Saturday, and we can sleep in a little. Just take it easy. Be with one another.”

“I’d like that,” you hum, kissing his cheek before you both get up. “Want me to throw your favorite blanket in the dryer? Extra cozy snuggles for the night?”

“I just need you, angel. I just need you.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x reader fluff #matt murdock x reader angst #matt murdock x fem!reader fluff #matt murdock x fem!reader angst #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil #daredevil fluff #daredevil angst #daredevil x reader #daredevil x fem!reader #daredevil x reader fluff #daredevil x reader angst #daredevil x fem!reader fluff #daredevil x fem!reader angst #daredevil netflix #daredevil disney+ #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

[thenotsoholyspirit]

Holding pt 2

(Here for pt 1)

Matt Murdock x reader (angst)

Note: I never expected to do a part 2 for this, but I got inspired re-watching the third season. I hope you guys enjoy it ❤️. Also, a bit of a trigger warning for the mention of the death of a pet.

Summary: What if Matt came back after all that happened, what if things could change.

♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡

"It was a building, an old abandoned storage. It was a horrible incident indeed. Authorities have yet declared the reasons for its collapse, but apparently, some criminal group is-"

Will the tv anchors let go of that new? It's been more than a month

I sigh as I start to bite the head of the pen in my hand, turning the tv off. I look now directly at the blank screen, only being able to see my own reflection. I look exhausted.

I am exhausted.

It's been weeks since Matt Murdock has been declared dead, more than weeks since I've myself collapsed into some sort of numbness.

It was almost months since I last saw him, yet..

You could've prevented this

I shake my head, trying to get the thought out.

The darkness in the room seems almost too engulfing now. My four walls feeling closer and closer now. I close my eyes

You can not take responsibility for everybody..

I remember my mom telling me this the day my first pet died. It was an accident, the poor bird escaping his cage and getting electrocuted by some some disjointed wires from the utility pole.

Not everything is under your control

I remember his little body dead on the asphalt eyes wide open, looking like he could wake up at any time and take his flight..

Suddenly the noise of the keys opening my door make me stand up. I quickly go grab the old baseball bat hidden under the couch and I go stand besides de doorframe.

Breath

When the person enters I immediately go for a hit, only to be surprised as what appears to be a man easily stops it mid-air making me loose my balance and stumble.

"What th-"

Suddenly he grabs me by my waist preventing me from falling on the floor. Its so dark I can barely perceive his face, yet his voice makes my heart suddenly drop.

"Please..this time I can explain (y/n)"

I immediately pull away from his arms as I go quickly grab my bat again and turn on the lights. I feel my hands weaken their grip as I now recognize the man in front of me. It was Matt. it was actually Matt.

Its you

But I keep my defensive position. Its impossible. This cannot be.

"Who the f- are you". I spat, trying not to let my vulnerability take over.

The supposed Matt stays in place, as I can see him twitching a small smile. He retakes his serious tone

"I know.. I know how this must appear from your side but you must believe me.."

I look at his eyes. Those puppy eyes he used to make when I caught him in trouble. For such a strong man he could be quite sensitive indeed. But I cannot forget neither.

"Even if..if this was true..how..how do you want me to trust you..after all that happened"

He looks down, shame now filling his face. He must have remembered the last time we saw each other. Not the best goodbye indeed. He bites his lip

"I know..I.. I didn't come for forgiveness just..I thought...", He turns his head around, probably scanning the room, "That you deserved to know the truth before you heard it from someone else.."

In the depths of myself, I know all I wish to do is to jump to his arms. It was him. He was alive.

"What exactly happened?"

My voice wasn't as cold as before but I still hold an strict tone, wanting to keep my distance.

He nods his head as he takes a long breath.

"You really want to hear the whole story ?"

"Ive got all night"

So thats how for the next hour he tells me what he seems to know about this Hand. The war. Stick and even the two deaths of his ex. It was a lot I admit, but I still listened with attention to each of his words. We both end up sitting face to face on the floor

"So that's how I ended up here", he finally says raising his shoulders.

I could notice something in his tone. Something more lonely that what used to be in there before. Something more bitter too, but I decide not to comment on that.

"So neither Karen or even Foggy know that you're alive and well ?"

He groans a bit. Probably a touchy subject.

"I'd rather leave it like that... they're safer that way"

I sigh. Some things never truly change

"Then why are you here Matt?"

"I told you.. I-"

"Bullshit"

My raise in tone paralyzes the conversation for a moment. Matt seems surprised and stays silent waiting for me to continue

"Sorry..just", I try my best to hold my emotions, "Last time you were in here..you..you left me Matt..you left me..."

"(Y/n).. sweetheart..I'm"

"Don't you dare call me sweetheart Matthew.." Im now standing up giving my most glaring stare at the man in front of me. "Don't you dare use that word"

Not everything is under my control

"I.." , I look at him again, " I had to mourn you twice..twice.."

Now tears are falling from my eyes. I know he can sense them but I don't want him to comfort me. I have to be strong

"I loved you with all my heart"

These last words are merely a mumble.

The noise of the outside is louder, the cars, the streets, the people. The city being so alive. All of what Matt can hear and perceive, his life. His real life. Not here with me, but outside.

He seems unsure what to say next.

"I never wanted to lose you", I've never heard his voice being this fragile "I just wanted to protect you from all the danger I brought upon you.. I don't want to make excuses just.. I got lost in the way"

He tries to come closer to me, putting his hand on my cheek cleaning my tear

"I'll try to make it up... even if it takes me a whole eternity to do so"

I look at him. Will I be able to ever forgive it all ?

I softly take his hand from my face. Holding it with such strength, like if he was about to vanish again. We stay in this silence for a while. It was a lot of feelings for just one night.

But time is still moving as I look at my kitchen's clock.

"Its getting late, I'd guess you have to go"

He nods letting a sad smile slip.

"Yes I guess so"..

He walks to the door, putting his dark glasses and cap on. He gives me a long stare before going. I wonder what he may be thinking

"Goodbye (y/n)"

"Goodbye Matt"

I see him disappear down the hall.

As I get back in, I think again of my souvenir of the poor bird laying on the ground. Maybe I couldn't bring him back to life, but what if he was given a second chance.

I stare at the door.

Maybe things could have ended differently in that case.

#matt murdock x reader #netflix daredevil #matt murdock x reader angst #daredevil x reader angst #daredevil x reader #marvel x reader

[petertingle-yipyip]

DONT BE A FOOL - MATT MURDOCK

Pairing: matt x wife!reader

Word Count: 2, 156

Summary: After a very tense argument about a misused name, your apologetic husband ends up getting looped in by your students.

//follow-up to three empty words but can probably be read on its own//

The next morning, you refused to dilly dally your morning routine. Your shower was quick, your hair and makeup remained simple. Even your outfit was more or less the first thing you grabbed from your closet. You gathered all of your papers - which you hadn’t gotten around to grading the night before - and your laptop before Matt’s alarm had even gone off.

You skipped making breakfast, deciding to stop at a coffee shop on the way to work instead, and hustled out the door. You ignored the still sleeping figure of Elektra on your couch even though your brain wanted to soak her with cold water and kick her out. You did slam the door on your way out but that was just to satisfy your own anger.

You walked into your classroom and let out a loud sigh as you dropped into your deskchair. You were thankful to be out of the house, in your own space for the time being. As you began grading the papers and piling them according to the hours, your mind wandered back to the night before. You wondered if Elektra would be out of your apartment when you got back. You wondered if Matt would tell Foggy and Karen that you two got into a fight last night. You then found yourself wondering if Matt was actually going to go to work that morning.

You realized you were staring blankly at the student’s worksheet in front of you so you shook the thoughts and focused on the daunting stacks before you.

Most of the hours were business as usual. Your normal rowdy students were a bit extra, but that might’ve been due to your already grated nerves more than their own behaviors. It wasn’t until the hour before lunch that you found some of your students more huddled and secretive than usual.

“What are you doing in the corner?” You called, peaking over your computer at the small group. “There’s, what, five minutes till the bell?”

“Mrs. Murdock, what’s your husband’s name?” One of the girls, Liv, asked with an innocent expression. The same one she gave you when she explained her lacking assignments.

“Matthew.” You titled down your screen to see them better. “Why?”

“What does he do again?”

“Lawyer. Why?”

“Is he handsome?” Another girl, Nicole, asked with wiggling eyebrows.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes at your middle schoolers.

“Yes, very.” You smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t have married him if he wasn’t.”

“And if he’s a lawyer, he’s gotta be smart, right?”

“Again, very. He went to Columbia.”

“So like… Is he why you’re so sad today?” Blake, the only boy in the group, chimed in with a nonchalant shrug.

“Guys.” You frowned slightly. “I’m not sure what you’re doing, but I’m not sad. Me and Mr. Murdock are fine. We’re happily married. And you should be worried about your own relationship drama, not mine.”

“So you admit there’s drama?” Nicole countered quickly.

“Between Blake and Emmy? Yes.” You nodded and Emmy’s jaw dropped while her friends poked her teasingly. “Between me and Mr. Murdock, no.”

“Mhmm.. So why is the photo face down?”

“What?”

“The photo by your computer.” She came across the room and lifted the frame near your laptop that was in fact, face down. “You told us on the first day that this was one your favorite photos and you have it on it’s face… There’s drama, Mrs. Murdock.”

“You’re very observant, Nicole. Thank you.” You said flatly as you took the frame from her hands and set it in it’s rightful position. “I must’ve knocked it over when I was trying to find you and Liv’s missing portfolio project.” “You can’t deflect, Mrs. M.” Liv added from across the room. “It’s all over your face.”

“Y’know what.” You announced, standing from your desk. “The bell rings in less than two minutes. You guys can all go to lunch early.”

A chorus of questions arose while you heard the door being pushed open.

“They can’t write you all up.” You shrugged and dropped back in your chair while the meddling group made their way into the hall.

The girls continued to whisper to themselves and glanced back at you, to which you shooed them away. When you were finally alone in your classroom, you let out a heavy sigh and rubbed a hand over your eyes.

Usually, you adored having open communication with your students because that meant they trusted you. But at the same time, that meant they felt entitled to know your life story whether you like it or not. The bell echoed in your ears so you spun your chair to the small fridge under your desk that held your lunch.

You clicked play on a playlist from your laptop and began eating your lunch, typing away to enter in grades. You knew you should just do nothing, scroll mindlessly on your social medias instead or maybe even call Foggy to ensure Matt made it to work, but the busy work for your eyes, head, and hands felt better. Plus, you weren’t exactly sure what you would’ve said that could’ve gotten your question answered without being a dead giveaway. So you kept working instead.

“MRS. MURDOCK!” Liv nearly yelled as she burst through your door, maybe halfway through the lunch hour. “OHMYGODYOULLNEVERBELIEVE-”

“Liv!” You said in shock, nearly dropping your water bottle. “What is going on? Is everything okay?”

“Look at this!” She hurried across and showed you her phone screen. Oddly enough, it was a photo of the back of a man exiting a taxi. What stood out to you was the white cane in his hand.

“It’s a guy getting out a cab.” You tried to reason, gently pushing her phone away. “That’s what you ran in here to tell me?”

“But he’s blind!”

“So it seems.”

“Don’t you know what this means?” She insisted with a small stomp.

You simply shrugged and raised your brows.

“It’s Mr. Murdock! He came to apologize!”

“Liv, I appreciate your concern for my marriage but we’re fine, okay? It’s not like he and I are heading towards a divorce. We’re just in a bit of an argument. It’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? Because I’ve never seen you so…” She gestured vaguely to you.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now go back to your lunch, please. I have to finish these.”

“But-”

“No.”

“Mrs. M, just-”

“Liv, boundaries, please.”

“Just listen!”

“No.” You said firmly. “Go back to your lunch.”

She huffed slightly but retreated to the door. As she was heading out, she nearly ran into one of the monitors.

“Sorry to intrude, Y/N.” The monitor said as she popped her head in. “I have a visitor for you.”

“Another one of my kids being a problem?” You sighed and wheeled yourself a bit further from your desk. “Send ‘em in. They can sit in the corner till next class.”

“Actually, I think you’ll be glad to see this one.” She smiled knowingly and reached for something outside the doorframe.

Before you could voice another question, she ushered Matt through the door. He said his usual thanks for being guided and the monitor gave you an approving nod and thumbs up. She mouthed a very not subtle ‘He’s very handsome’. You smiled awkwardly in agreement but once the door closed, you rolled your eyes and went back to your gradebook.

“Could’ve called.” You said simply.

“I didn’t think you would answer.” Matt replied honestly.

“Probably wouldn’t have… Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I couldn’t focus.”

You heard the clicks of him folding his cane as he wandered around your classroom. You peaked up to watch him manueaver the desks with such ease that for a split second, you forgot he was blind. You watched him run his fingers along the bulletin board you had on one wall, leading into the standards and other required signage you had up.

“Did she leave?” You asked and returned to your prior task. You knew if you watched him for too long, he’d know and he’d show you that stupid lopsided smirk that he did.

“She was still pretty weak when I left.” He said and there was a slight sadness in his voice. Though if someone asked if it was for Elektra or your argument, you wouldn’t have been able to say. “But I did ask Stick to find somewhere else to take her to recover if she can’t leave on her own by the time someone gets home.”

“Chivalrous.” You made a face behind your computer screen. “You didn’t have to come all the way here to tell me that.”

He sighed slightly and you mumbled a short complaint to yourself before scooting away from your desk and spinning in your chair to face him, just as he appeared at your side. You folded your hands over your stomach and leaned back in your chair, giving an exaggerated sigh and nod for him to talk.

“Y/N, last night, I said something I shouldn’t have.” He began carefully, as if he was following a carefully rehearsed speech. For all you knew, he had rehearsed it with Foggy that morning before he showed up. “I let Stick push me and I just said the first thing that came to mind.”

“But she shouldn’t be the first thing, right?” You said softly with a small shrug. “Stick shouldn’t be able to push you into saying that, whether you meant it or not.”

“You’re right.” He admitted and your brows went up slightly. “I shouldn’t have said that. You are the only woman that I want to be with. I married you, without any hesitation. I never had second thoughts or second thoughts or anything. You, Y/N Murdock, have my heart.”

You nodded slowly but said nothing as you stood. You crossed your arms and looked up at him, him offering a hopeful expression in return. You broke into a small smile and nudged him with your shoulder before moving past him. He followed you almost instantly and you took him to the wall on the other side of your desk near the window.

“The kids started calling this the Sweetheart’s Spotlight.” You said quietly with a small smile. “They keep a polaroid camera in one of the cubbies and every Friday, they rearrange the couples in order of their favorites… They made me put a photo of us on here, too.”

“Where do we rank?” He smiled slightly.

“We’ve been number one since it started.” You laughed. “They tell me that you’re the best by default since I’m their favorite teacher.”

“Lucky me.”

“You know I’m still upset, right?” You said carefully when the air was too light between you two.

“I know.” He nodded. “I can hear it in your voice.”

“But I also don’t want to hold onto this fight. So here’s an idea. Elektra’s out of the apartment today. You two finish whatever crusade you’re on. You make sure you don’t get yourself killed. She leaves New York and it’s all put to bed.”

“Consider it done.” He nodded. “And I know better than to get myself killed. I’ve got it too good to die.”

“Yeah because then I’m a widow and there’s not much life insurance to cash in on.” You joked as the lunch bell rang.

“I should get going.” He nodded before gently taking your hand. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too.” You said softly as your students started filing in.

“OHMYGOD.” One of your students yelled and you closed your eyes tightly, quietly groaning in embarrassment. “IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?”

“Yes, Luna.” You said, feeling the blush across your cheeks. “This is Mr. Murdock and he’s leaving.”

You pulled Matt towards the door as he laughed. Your kids yelled questions that you tried to ignore until Matt stopped, pulling you to stop with him.

“It’s career week!” One of the boys yelled. More so a demand.

“I’m aware, Jack.” You nodded. “What does that have to do with this?”

“He’s not here to talk to us about lawyers?” The boy’s head cocked as he asked his question.

“That’s exactly why I’m here.” Matt grinned and you groaned again. “Let’s give Mrs. Murdock a break, right?”

“You’re so dead.” You threatened quietly with a laugh before heading back to your chair. 

“Okay, kids.” You announced. “He’s blind and can’t write. I’m not getting up. Take your own notes and keep your questions relevant to his career, okay?”

“Yes, Mrs. Murdock.” They all answered.

“All yours, Mr. Murdock.” You gestured before returning to grading and the personal questions started flying.

“How did you guys meet?!”

“What’s her favorite color?!”

“Did you see the wall?!” “He can’t see!”

“Are they always this rowdy?” He asked you with a slight laugh.

“You’re new and exciting.” You shrugged. “Take it as a compliment.”

#matt fluff #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fic #marvel matt murdock #matt murdock mcu #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x yn #matt murdock x wife #husband matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil angst #daredevil imagine #mcu daredevil #netflix daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fluff #marvel daredevil

[farfromstrange]

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.

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. 

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)

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #daredevil x reader #daredevil angst #angst #no happy ending #songfic #is it over now by taylor swift #elektra natchios #frank castle #frank castle x reader #x gender neutral reader #elektra natchios x matt murdock #cheating trope #lizzi writes #charlie cox #matt murdock imagines

[courtforshort15]

In the Rearview

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem Reader

Word Count: 3,300

Summary: Reader returns from a trip home to visit her family, and Matt is less than happy to hear about the details.

Trigger warning: discussion of physical abuse

Shameless use of the "who did this to you?" trope.

Masterlist

"What happened to your face?"

You drop the plastic cup you had pulled out of your cabinet as you jump in surprise, hand flying to your throat. Matt stands next to your window in all black, mask missing from his face, clothes damp from sweat and blood leaking from a jagged scratch on his bicep that you can see through his torn shirt. His hands are on his hips, a frown visible on the lips you've spent many hours pressed against.

You step forward to greet him, having not seen him for a few days, but the look on his face stops you. It's a mixture of confusion and frustration and barely contained rage, and you're not quite sure if he wants to be touched at this moment, so you keep your distance for the time being.

"What? What are you talking about?" You ask slowly instead, bending down to pick up the cup that had flown from your hand in a graceless fall and landed with a loud clatter on your floor. You scoop it up and place it on the counter, grateful it had been empty before it slid from your hands.

"There's something on your face, isn't there?"

"I don't--"

"Bruising, right?" He takes a step further into your kitchen, shutting the window quietly behind him, effectively muting the sound of New York City that's been leaking into your apartment since he entered. "Your face is bruised. Your left cheek bone."

You look at him in alarm, hand flying to the cheek he’s motioned at. "No, there's nothing there."

Matt's frown deepens, the corners of his mouth forced downward in the expression. He doesn't look very impressed with the obvious false statement you've just fed him, and you wince. "Not only can I tell that you're lying, but I can tell there's swelling underneath your eye. And blood has pooled."

"Matt--"

He all but stomps around your kitchen table so he's standing right in front of you, the gait to his step similar to what you’ve seen in old newsreels, back when Daredevil had been a novelty that every news outlet wanted to cover. Your man is a prowler, you’ve long since acknowledged, fury present in every line of his body as he makes his way through Hell's Kitchen night after night. 

His calloused hand reaches out, as if to touch your face, but pulls it back just inches from the skin below your eye. His face hardens. 

"Who did this to you?"

You let out a loud sigh and attempt to take a step back, if nothing more than to put some distance between you and the intense level of focus that’s aimed your way. You know how he gets when he’s noticed something out of place, and right now the giant bruise on your cheek is just that, though you try to dissuade him from the topic. "No one did anything."

"That's a lie."

"I promise nothing--"

"Stop lying," he growls suddenly. If he were a dog, his hackles would be raised so sharply you’d be able to see them from twenty feet away. "There's a giant bruise on your face. What the hell happened?"

You're silent for a second before you answer. This isn't a conversation you've been wanting to have, not with the week's events so fresh in your mind. You already know how he's going to react, and the thought makes you cringe. "I don't...I don't want to talk about it."

The look on his face is one of disbelief. "Don't want to...? I don't care. My girlfriend went away for a few days to visit her parents and came back with a bruise the shape of someone's hand on her cheek. Who hit you?"

You grimace as you shift your weight from side to side. Your eyes leave his face as you turn your head to the window, taking in the sight of the brick building next door. Eyes welling, you bite back a soft, shaky sigh and clench your fists at your side. 

Matt takes note of your silence and prompts you more gently this time, the fire in his voice temporarily extinguished as he pulls your hand into his and uncurls the fingers so he can lace his in with yours. 

You take a deep breath, your hand instinctively tightening around his. "My dad. My dad hit me."

Matt visibly recoils, eyes widening in alarm. His jaw has dropped, his lips stretched around the expression. "Your dad?"

"Yeah, my dad," you admit with another wince, and the movement in your face causes a level of discomfort as it forces your sore skin to move. "He hit me the other day."

"The other day?" He asks, and his voice is one that suggests he still can’t believe the words coming out of your of your mouth. "But you only got back yesterday. You stayed with them after he hit you?"

"No, I left their house after that," you tell him, and the look he gives you is incredulous, as if the distinction isn’t much better. You know what’s pouring through his mind right now, and it’s not pretty. You long to tell him you’re okay, that everything is fine, but the man looks like a bomb that’s ready to explode, and another lie from you would only be the match. "I just…didn't come home right away because I didn't want people to see it and question things."

"Question things? You were concerned about people questioning things?"

You squirm under his attention, but stay your course. You’ve often chosen not to say anything to anyone for a reason, hating the looks of pity you were sure to receive. You were used to marks on your skin, having grown up in the household that you did, and you hate having to explain things just as much as you hate having to hide things. "Bruising on the face doesn't look good."

If it’s even possible, Matt's jaw drops even further. You vaguely notice the cut that’s stark red and glaring at you against his pale skin on the corner of his mouth. "Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?"

You object to the accusation, but it’s weak, even to your own ears. Despite his lack of sight, Matt always sees right through you, even the pieces you find yourself reluctant to share. Without fail, he always has a way of pulling things out into the open. 

"I haven't been avoiding you."

He scoffs, even while your hand is held gently in his. "We've barely talked on the phone the past few days, and you told me you had a busy day today and didn't have time to meet up."

"I was busy. I had a ton to catch up on." At least that part isn't a lie. Emails, errands, a sobbing conversation with your sister while you told her about what transpired over the course of a few days with your parents. You were worn out, and the appearance of your angry vigilante in your kitchen wasn’t helping, though all you’ve wanted is to be pulled back and held by him since the second you left New York to head to your hometown.

"Sweetheart, I had to hear from Foggy that something was up," he said quietly, suddenly taking another step into your space, hand reaching up to run lightly through your hair. "He said you were wearing so much make-up to cover it up, but that he could still see a mark. He called me and asked what had happened to your face. He was shocked I didn’t know."

"I'm not surprised," you shrug helplessly, and he tracks the movement with a sigh. "It's still there a little, but I had too many things to do today. I ran into him on my way home from the store an hour ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's embarrassing," you mumble, shuffling your feet. The floor creaks under the shift in weight as you do, and then again as he takes another step towards you.

"Embarrassing?" He asks incredulously. "Someone put their hands on you and it's embarrassing?"

"I just...I just don't like talking about it."

"Has your dad hit you before?"

Your breath catches in your throat as he asks the question you knew was coming, even while you hoped he would leave it alone. The silence that follows the question apparently tells him everything he needs to hear, because he looks enraged.

"How long? How long has your dad been abusive?"

You avoid looking at him, but a finger on your chin brings your face back to his. He does it for his benefit, not yours, because he wants to know he has your complete attention. He always has your complete attention when he’s in the room, if you’re being honest with yourself. You’ve been unable to shift your focus from him since the moment you were introduced to him. 

“Pretty much since elementary school."

Matt inhales sharply. "And you still go back to see him?"

A few tears suddenly cloud your vision, much to your horror, and your hand immediately lifts to brush them away, but Matt wipes them first, a mournful sound resonating in the back of his throat. Your pain has always mattered more to him than any broken rib, concussion, or laceration he has suffered ever could. 

"I don't go back to see him. I go back to see my mom."

Realization blooms across his face, and you smile sadly at the expression. "Does he hit your mom, too?"

With a quiet sigh, you nod, still struggling to hold in a few tears. His thumb still rests on the cheek that is not bruised, and he catches the few drops that attempt to make their way down your face. "He started hitting her long before he moved on to me and my sister."

"How...how did this go on for so long? How did no one say anything? See anything?"

"My dad's a very smart man," you say softly, knowing he’ll hear you regardless of the volume. It’s the benefit of being in love with a man who is always so tuned in on everything you say and do. You are completely aware of the fact that he knows you better than you know yourself. "He was very careful about where he hit us, and how hard."

"Was child protective services ever called?" He still looks and sounds absolutely infuriated, the smoke and fire of the Devil seeping out of his pores.

"Twice. But my dad...he had connections on the force. Small town politics, you know?" The smile that stretches over your teeth is bitter. "And my mom always lied, too. Especially because we all knew it would get worse for us if we didn't."

Matt swears a blue streak. When not on the streets stalking for the next person to spill their blood on the Muay Thai ropes wrapped around his hands, Matt is generally mild-mannered, so the language escaping his lips isn’t exactly common. "And she's still with him?"

You shrug miserably. "Yeah, she won't leave him. I think she's too scared to. Scared about what her life would look like without him. She doesn't have a job, doesn't have very many friends. All of her family is gone, pretty much. She was an only child, and my grandparents are dead, so no one to look to."

"And you? What about you?"

Shaking your head with a grimace, you attempt to take a step back, the heavy subject taking a tole. Unsurprisingly, he follows you, matching you step for step, always reluctant to keep space between you when he can tell you’re upset. "Matt, I've offered. Several times. And so has my sister. But she won't leave." 

"So you go to visit her." It's not a question.

You nod, running your fingers over your kitchen counter as Matt steps closer, his arm wrapping around your waist in an effort to keep you as close to him as possible, as if he needs to be the only one between you and the rest of the world. "Yeah. If it was just him, I'd never go back. But I can't just...leave her. I need to check up on her from time to time. I refuse to sleep in the house though. There's a hotel down the street."

"And this time? What happened this time?" Matt's presses,and the fingers on his other hand lifts to run gently down the bruise. You try not to flinch away from the touch as it's still tender, but he still notices the way you tense, and his mouth hardens.

"He, uh...he heard me asking my mom if she wanted to come visit me here. He thought I was trying to take her away."

"Were you?"

You nod a little reluctantly. "I was hoping that if I could get her away from him for a few days, she might see that there is life outside of him. But he heard me bring it up while we were in the kitchen, and he hit me and told me to shut my mouth or he’d shut it for me."

Matt hisses. You’re absolutely sure that if he didn’t feel the need to keep you close, to feel you against him to remind him you were fine, he’d be on his way out the window to hunt down the man in question. Your parents live several states away, but Matt would absolutely make the journey for you if you said the word. 

"Did you leave? Please tell me you left after that."

"I did," you tell him, and there’s a quick flash of relief that slides across his face before it settles back into the hard frown. "I grabbed my things and went back to the hotel."

"Did you call the police?"

You look away again, an old wound tearing open at the question. You’ve tried over the years to help your mother to the best of your ability, but you haven’t been successful. It’s been one of the greatest failures of your life. 

"There's not much they can do when the victim refuses to say anything. She still just lies for him."

His eyes are surprisingly soft when he turns your face back to his. "True, but I meant for you. Did you call the police for him hitting you?"

Your breath stalls, every inch of your body screeching to a halt as you consider what he’s asked. "I hadn't actually...thought of that."

"Then we're going to call them. We'll press charges," he replies without a moment’s pause, face determined, the hand at your waist twitching as if it’s ready to make the phone call right this instant. You grab his hand in yours, once again lacing your fingers, wordlessly asking him to give it a second before he does anything.

"I don't think--" you try to object, but he quickly cuts you off with a finger to your lips.

"Sweetheart, I'm a lawyer. A good one. There's no way I'm just gonna let this slide."

“You’re a defense lawyer. Even if I decided to do this, it’s outside your normal scope of work.”

It doesn’t deter him, not one ounce. This fearless man in your life is always ready to jump to the aid of others, especially when that person is you. It’s his greatest strength, this desire to do good, even while you sometimes see it as your greatest source of sadness.  “I’ll make an exception. Or I can reach out to an old classmate who specializes in this sort of law.”

"Matt--"

"No," he shakes his head adamantly, his breathing harsh, skin almost scalding to the touch as his heart race increases pounds beneath the surface. "If you think for one second I'm not going to make this man pay, you've got another thing coming. He hit you. He put his hands on you."

"I'm scared about making things worse for my mom," you force out around the teeth that have clenched in an effort to keep from crying. "I'd do this in a heartbeat if I knew she was safe."

"There are shelters--"

"We've tried those before," you argue, and the tone is just as desperate as the fear is rippling through your system. "She either refuses to go, or goes for a few days and ends up right back with him. Whatever I do, it can't come back onto her."

"It won't." He sounds so sure, and every cell in your body wants to believe him, but such hope is foolish and has led you into trouble before.

"You don't know that."

"I know that I'm going to do everything I can to make sure this man is put behind bars," he growls. For all his anger, his hands are still soft on yours, as they always are. Never before would you have thought that a man with such calloused palms and fingertips could hold you so gently. "You deserve to know he's paying for hurting you. Your mom deserves to not live in fear from a man who still hurts her."

You're crying now, having given up the farce of trying to hide it, trying to force it down. "He just always seems to win, Matt. No matter what my sister and I do."

Matt almost deflates against you, and you watch as another thought pushes its way into his head and out of his mouth. "I should never have let you go by yourself."

You try to push him away, surprised at how the conversation has turned, but his grip tightens. "This isn't your fault, Matt. Why would you even think that?"

"I could feel something was wrong when you said you were going to visit," he says quietly, and the anger that had him so riled up just moments ago has suddenly turned in on himself. He’s always been quick to take every wrong onto his shoulders, regardless if he had any hand in it or not. "But I just chalked it up to stress at work and didn't question anything."

"You didn't know," you whisper, and you take a step closer, pressing your entire body against him. He leans into you without being prompted, a hand wrapping itself in your hair. "You couldn't have. I never told you. That's not on you. None of this is on you."

"Even so, I don't want you anywhere near him ever again. Do you hear me?"

"But my mom--"

You feel Matt shake his head against you, and the movement is almost sharp as he responds."If you need to see your mom, we will work something out where you can see her without him. I don't care what we have to do. But promise me you won't be around him again, especially if I'm not there."

You let out a deep breath, trembling against him. "I promise I won't see him again without you."

"Promise me again." 

Your hands dig into the back of his shirt. "I promise."

“Good,” he sighs, and his lips press themselves into the crown of your head, your forehead, your cheek, anywhere that’s easily in reach as if he needs to mark every inch of your skin as his to protect. “I’ll make some calls in the morning, see where we can go from here. Once I’m done, I’ll help you file the police report. Can we…does that sound okay?”

You nod against his shoulder, rubbing your face into the soft fabric of his shirt. It’s never ceased to entertain you that the clothing he wears when he goes out in to beat the shit out of people is some of the softest fabric you’ve touched. “I can do that.”

He exhales loudly against you, the air brushing against your ear. “Okay. Okay, sweetheart.” He pulls back, eyes shifting slightly across the muted gray of your kitchen counters, landing blindly on the one over your shoulder. He tilts your head back with a finger under your chin, and leans in to lay a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Come lay down with me?”

You scrunch up your nose before a small smile lands briefly across your face. “You need a shower and to have that cut looked at.”

“But after?”

“After.”

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