#matt Murdock x reader fluff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

matt-murdockk · 2 months ago

Text

Sweet Nothing

pairing: matt murdock x reader

words: 5.1k

warnings: cussing, slow-burn, angst if you really squint but it's just fluff mostly, lack of proofreading (rip), pretty descriptive making out

summary: This is the story of how Matt Murdock met the love of his life one fateful day at the NYPD precinct.

a/n: guess who finally learned out how to make emdashes on Mac— hehehehe. some fluffy slow-burn for you <3 (i tried not to use pronouns for the reader but I'm so sorry if i accidentally used she/her anywhere)

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While Matt was charming, romantic, and thoughtful, historically— he hasn't been the best at relationships. Flings were okay, short-term was fine, but a proper relationship? Matt didn't think he deserved to be in one until he met you.

To him, you were a breath of fresh air from all his previous exploits. Elektra was a rush of adrenaline, a thrill, certainly an experience, but he knew he didn't like the side of him that she brought out. Karen was too close a friend to lose over a relationship and Claire, well, he had way too much respect for her, he wouldn't do that to her.

You, on the other hand, were what he swore was the right person at the right time. The right amount of calm and the right amount of chaos. He didn’t go looking for you. But you found each other anyway— almost by accident, almost like it was fate.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A regular phone call from Brett Mahoney about a possible case for Nelson & Murdock brought Foggy and Matt to the precinct one day. From outside, Matt quietly observed you before going in. You were in the holding cell, handcuffed, busted lip, and bruised knuckles. For all that you looked like you'd been through, Matt noticed that you were oddly calm.

Brett opened the door to let Matt and Foggy inside, the confusion in your face did not go unnoticed by the people in the room. "10 minutes, Foggy." The door shut behind him as he left, giving them a knowing look.

"You know it, Brett." Foggy helped Matt into his seat and took the empty seat beside him.

"Miss (Y/l/n), my name is Matt Murdock, this is my associate Foggy Nelson." Foggy gave you a half wave and smiled.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Before we begin, have you been assaulted while in custody?"

"No, I have not. Listen, I didn't ask for a lawyer."

"We understand that you have been accused of assaulting a police officer. You have opted not to seek legal representation, is that right?"

"First of all, there has been a huge misunderstanding. Secondly, I still don't know why you're here, Mr..."

"Murdock," he reminded you.

"Right. Murdock. Sorry."

"We run a practice at Hell's Kitchen. Our firm is interested in representing you. And please, call me Matt," he clarified, presenting a warm, genuine smile.

"Well, Matt, while I am certainly thankful for your interest in representing me, I'm sorry to disappoint you, I don't need a lawyer."

"Trust me, you're going to," he said, amused at your confidence that you'll be fine.

"Oh, I know, I just already have one."

"Well, our job here's done. No cigars for Bess next time," Foggy retorted, as he got up, ready to leave.

"Foggy, sit down. Miss (Y/l/n)—"

"(Y/n), please."

"Very well. (Y/n), I understand that you already have representation. Probably from a big-time firm with 5 times the number of defense attorneys than we do. But here’s the thing. Those firms? They see cases. Numbers. Profiles. Headlines. They’re already calculating how your situation fits into their win column. I don’t work like that. My firm doesn’t work like that. We don’t take every case. We don’t chase the press. What we do is show up— completely. We sit down, we listen, and we fight like hell for the people who trust us. No fluff. No posturing. Just the work, and the truth, and someone in your corner who actually gives a damn about what happens to you next. So if you want the machine— fine. But if you want someone who’s going to look past the charges, past the headlines, and actually see you? Then you want Nelson and Murdock."

"Wow, okay, so, great sales pitch, love the energy, I really do. There's just one problem."

"What is it?"

"My boss is already on his way to represent me."

"I'm sorry— Boss?" " Yeah, what is it you do, exactly?" enquired Foggy.

"I'm a senior associate at Pearson Hardman."

"Well, that crashed and burned splendidly. Happy now, Matthew? We're poaching clients now. Oh and not just from any firm. No, sir. From Pearson fucking Hardman, Unbelievable."

"Foggy, it's okay. So, (Y/n), is your boss any good? Or..."

"I work for Harvey Specter."

"And that's our cue to leave."

Matt finally admitted defeat and got up to leave, following Foggy who was already at the door. While he was certainly ambitious, he knew he couldn't compete with that.

"Thank you for your time, (Y/n)."

As Matt turned toward the door, he caught the subtle quickening of your heartbeat— hesitant, uncertain, like you were rethinking your decision. His hand was just about on the doorknob, ready to leave but not quite gone, when your voice stopped him.

“Wait.”

Out of your line of sight, he let the faintest smirk curl at his lips. He just loved being right.

“What is it?” Matt asked, turning back to face you.

You hesitated for a beat, eyes flicking between him and Foggy, then down to your bruised hands in your lap. “I... I want you guys to represent me.”

Foggy blinked, taken off guard. “Really? Just like that?”

You exhaled slowly, the edge of defiance in your tone softening into something a little more tired. “Let’s just say… I’ve worked long enough at firms that care more about damage control than people. I don’t want a firm that’s already prepping their PR statement. I want someone who’ll actually give a shit.”

Matt nodded once, quietly. His expression didn’t change, but there was something solid behind it. Something settled.

Foggy let out a low whistle, then grinned. “Well… welcome to Nelson & Murdock.”

Cut to a little while later— Nelson & Murdock office. You, Matt, and Foggy sat around the table, the arrest report open in front of you. The air buzzed faintly from the overhead light, the hum of late-night tension settling over the room.

Foggy skimmed through the statement again, frowning. “Okay. Walk us through it. From the top.”

You leaned forward, elbows on the table, tone clipped but calm. “I was on the subway platform. Late. Waiting on the C train. There were maybe three other people around, none of them close.”

Matt tilted his head slightly, tuning in. Not just to what you were saying, but how you said it— measured, unflinching. No panic. No dramatics. Just facts.

“This guy comes over, starts making small talk. I make it clear I’m not interested. He doesn’t take the hint. Gets closer. I step back, tell him to stop. He grabs my wrist.”

“Forcefully?” Matt asked.

“Firm enough that I couldn’t just shake him off,” you replied. “So I pulled away. He grabbed me again. That time, I reacted. Hit him once, hard, in the face.”

The rhythm of your pulse didn’t spike when you said it. No guilt. Just certainty.

Foggy nodded slowly. “And then?”

“He goes down, pulls out a badge. Says he’s NYPD. I get cuffed.”

“He never identified himself before that?” Matt asked.

“No. Not verbally, not visually. No badge, no warning. He was in plainclothes, no backup, no indication he was on duty.”

Matt exchanged a look with Foggy, then turned his attention back to her. That steady confidence. The way you answered questions like you were already anticipating the next three.

“That’s a serious problem for their case,” Matt said, flipping through the paperwork. “Use of force in response to a perceived threat is protected— especially when there’s no identification of authority.”

You shrugged. “It won’t stop the department from backing him, though.”

Matt’s brows lifted just slightly. YOu knew exactly how this would play out— too many steps ahead for someone just hoping to walk out clean. You were smart. He liked that. Maybe more than he should.

“No,” Foggy agreed. “But it gives us a strong narrative, especially if we can get security footage or eyewitness statements from the other people on the platform.”

There was a beat as Matt closed the folder and set it aside.

“You’re sharp,” he said, more thoughtful now. “You know the statute, you know your rights, and you’re quoting case law off the top of your head.”

You looked at him, just a little amused. “That’s because I’ve spent years doing the same thing you do.”

A flicker of something moved across Matt’s face. He leaned forward just slightly.

“Why exactly are you not representing yourself?”

You smirked. “Because representing yourself while you’re the one in custody is a logistical nightmare. And because even good lawyers know when to bring in reinforcements.”

Foggy shook his head, amused. “Okay. That was... a good answer.”

You smiled, leaning back in your chair. “Now let’s go win my case.”

Matt smiled slightly. “Glad you picked us.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They won.

Not easily, and not without a few uphill battles, but the charges didn’t stick. Between the platform security footage, two credible eyewitness statements, and some rather unflattering internal complaints about the arresting officer, the case quietly unravelled in court. Matt made his arguments clean and precise. Foggy handled the media brushback with that classic Nelson charm. You? You sat through the whole trial stone-faced and unshakable— until the verdict came in, and Matt swore he could hear the way your shoulders finally loosened.

You kept in touch after that.

Not constantly, no regular meetings or phone calls— just the occasional email. A few sarcastic text exchanges. One time, you sent Matt a voicemail of you laughing because Foggy had apparently called you "the one that got away." Matt saved it. He never said that part out loud.

It was about six months later when Foggy floated the idea.

“We could use another good lawyer,” he told Matt, over a plate of lukewarm takeout. “She’s smart, she’s sharp, and she gets us.”

Matt didn’t disagree. He didn’t say much at all, really. But the next morning, you got a call from him— short, polite, a little too formal— inviting you to "grab a coffee and talk opportunities."

You left Pearson Hardman three weeks later.

Karen was the first to greet you when you walked through the door on your first official day. She had already cleared space on the shared bookshelf, left a fresh legal pad on your desk, and warned you not to get caught in any of Foggy’s snack traps. You settled in like you were always meant to be there.

The four of you fell into rhythm faster than expected— late nights, tight wins, inside jokes. Karen became one of your closest friends before your second week was out. Matt had a habit of lingering in your doorway on the days he claimed he "wasn’t eavesdropping," but his smile always gave him away. You pretended not to notice. He pretended not to care."

The firm did better that year than anyone had predicted.

And you? You’d finally stopped feeling like just another cog in someone else’s machine. You felt like you were home.

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It was late.

Most of the lights in the office were off except for the one at Matt’s desk, and the faint glow of your screen across from him. Karen had bailed with a yawn and a pointed “Don’t stay too long, you two.” Foggy left not long after with a granola bar and a salute.

Now, just you and Matt.

A few open case files, cold takeout, empty coffee cups.

“Your typing slows down when you’re annoyed,” Matt said, breaking the silence without looking up.

You didn’t even pause. “Your voice gets smug when you’re fishing for attention.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Because it’s not flattering?”

“Because I don’t need to fish for attention,” he said. “Not when you give it up so easily.”

You looked up, unimpressed. “Oh no. You have caught me.”

“Seriously, that's how you respond to my flirting?”

You closed your file and leaned your elbows on the desk. “I didn’t realize ‘mild workplace bullying’ counted as flirting now.”

Matt tilted his head, listening closely. “That wasn’t a no.”

You smiled. “Murdock, if I were flirting, you’d know.”

“Oh?” he leaned forward, just slightly. “Go on, then.”

You mirrored the movement. “You sure you want to start something you can’t finish?”

His smile flickered into something smaller, quieter. “I’m not worried.”

“You should be.”

The banter fizzled for a second into silence, but it wasn’t awkward. Just... full. Like both of you were waiting to see who would blink first. Then you reached for the leftover fries between you.

“See, this is where you should’ve swooped in and offered to share,” you said, picking one up.

“I was being polite.”

“You’re full of it.”

Matt chuckled, leaning back in his chair again. “You make work a lot harder than it should be.”

You smirked. “If you’re blaming me for your lack of focus, I feel like that’s a you problem.”

He tapped a knuckle against the folder in front of him. “Pretty sure you’re a walking conflict of interest.”

“Oh, I am,” you said, popping a fry into your mouth. “But you already knew that.”

Matt bit back a smile, quiet again. Listening. After a moment, he said, “You know you could’ve gone back to a hundred bigger firms. Why stay?”

You glanced at him, surprised by the shift in tone. “Because this place feels like... me. Like it's mine, you know?”

Matt nodded slowly. “Feels like mine, too.”

There was something honest in his voice when he said it. Something unguarded. And for a beat— just a beat— you weren’t just two coworkers trading late-night barbs. You were something else. Something that lived in the space between laughter and hesitation. He broke the silence first.

“If you keep looking at me like that, Karen’s going to start planning our engagement party.”

“She already has,” you said. “She’s terrifying.”

He laughed, bright and real. You laughed too, leaning forward again, close without touching. And that was it. Just a moment. Not a confession. Not a move. But later, walking home, you’d think about it again— about how easy it felt, how his voice softened just for you, how neither of you pulled away.

Matt sat at his desk long after you left.

The city hummed outside the windows, faint and familiar— footsteps, traffic, a distant siren splitting the air somewhere on the west side. The kind of night New York never ran out of. But his attention was still in the office. Still in that moment.

You’d laughed. That real kind of laugh that started in the chest and softened everything around it. And for a second, he wasn’t Daredevil or Matt Murdock, the guy with a double life and a thousand reasons to keep people at arm’s length. He was just a man sitting across from someone who made him forget about all of it.

He hadn’t expected you. Not just the sharpness, or the way you fit in so seamlessly, or how you never once treated him like he needed to be handled. It was the way you challenged him. Matched him. Made the air feel lighter, even when the work was heavy.

And tonight— he’d heard it in your heartbeat. That shift. That hesitation. The quiet hope. It mirrored something in his chest he didn’t want to name. Because if he named it, it would be real. And real things could break.

He ran a hand down his face, exhaling slowly. He’d been careful. Always careful. With you, maybe too careful. Always toeing the line between professional and personal, between harmless teasing and something far messier.

But tonight? Tonight, the line blurred. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way you said this place felt like yours. Like you’d claimed it. Like you belonged here— next to Karen, Foggy... and him.

Matt had spent most of his life believing that the things he loved either left or got hurt. And yet, here you were. And he was terrified. Because the thought of you staying scared him more than the thought of you leaving.

Because for the first time in a long time, he wanted something he couldn’t fight for in court. Couldn’t earn by bleeding for it.

He just... wanted you.

And wanting had never ended well.

He leaned back in his chair and turned his head toward where you’d been sitting hours ago, the ghost of your laughter still echoing softly in the corners of the room.

He didn’t know what came next. But for the first time in a very long time, he hoped. And that was dangerous.

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Matt had been trained to keep things close to the chest. To be quiet. Composed. Measured. He’d made a whole life out of it— knowing exactly how much to say, how much to feel, and how much to hide. But lately? He was starting to slip.

It started with small things. Lingering a second too long outside your office. Finding reasons to walk the long way around the building just so he wouldn’t pass you in the hallway. Not looking up when you said his name. Not teasing you like he used to. It was subtle. Barely noticeable to anyone else. But Foggy? Foggy clocked it immediately.

“Are you avoiding (Y/n),” he asked one day, without even looking up from his sandwich, “or just trying to die alone with dignity?”

Matt didn’t dignify that with a response. Which, of course, was the response.

He tried to get a handle on it. He really did. But every time you walked into the room, something short-circuited in his chest. It wasn’t just the way your laugh stuck with him hours later, or the way you challenged him in court, or how you always saved the last of the coffee for him without saying a word. It was everything.

It was the way being near you made him feel like maybe he was allowed to want more. And that terrified him. So he did what Matt Murdock always did when he felt too much— he shut down. Smiled less. Talked less. Pulled back.

From your side, it made no sense. One minute, Matt was your closest friend at the firm— bantering with you over contracts and flirting shamelessly during late nights at the office. And then suddenly, he was stiff. Cautious. Civil, but distant. Like someone had flipped a switch and now you were radioactive.

You asked Karen once if you’d done something. She blinked, confused, then immediately said no. Foggy just smirked and shook his head like he knew something he wasn’t telling.

It wasn’t until the case came in that everything started to unravel.

A mugging gone wrong. Client said Daredevil saved her. That wasn’t unusual, not in Hell’s Kitchen. But Matt had disappeared halfway through the intake. No explanation, no warning.

When he came back, he looked… off.

There was a stiffness in his step. His jacket was damp. You noticed a bruise blooming along the edge of his jaw, half-hidden beneath his collar. And the excuse he gave? It was nothing. Too easy. Too rehearsed.

That was the first moment you really looked at him. And from that moment on, it didn’t stop. You started noticing everything.

It started small. A scrape on Matt’s knuckles one morning when he swore he just "bumped into a railing." A bruise along his jaw two days later that hadn’t been there the night before. The fact that he always knew when sirens were about to pass. That he sometimes winced at conversations happening across the street and flinched when someone behind him opened a soda can too loud.

The way his hands sometimes trembled when he thought no one was watching. The bruises that never quite added up. The way his hearing— his attention— seemed to stretch too far, too focused. His absences. His silences.

You weren’t stupid. You were a lawyer, after all-- your entire job revolved around reading people, noticing what others missed. So you paid attention. Not obsessively. Not yet. But enough. Enough to clock that he disappeared some nights without explanation, always coming back the next day with a carefully worded excuse and that same “don’t ask” look in his eye.

And then came the clincher.

A client— a woman being threatened by her landlord— was suddenly protected. Completely. No restraining order had gone through. No legal intervention. But the man stopped showing up. Cold turkey. When you asked, she just said, “That guy in the mask. The Devil. He said I’d be okay.”

You stared at her.

Later that night, while Matt was in his office pretending not to eavesdrop, you walked in and dropped the case file on his desk.

“She said ‘the Devil.’ Not a devil. The one. Hell’s Kitchen’s own.”

Matt didn’t look up. “Lot of people throw that name around.”

“She also said he was calm. Polite. Knew her name. Said she had nothing to be afraid of anymore.”

He was quiet.

You folded your arms. “She said he didn’t sound scary. Said his voice was warm.”

That made him pause.

“You’re not even going to deny it?”

Matt finally leaned back in his chair and sighed. “...hi?”

You blinked. “Hi?”

He shrugged. “It’s concise.”

You just stared at him.

“Matthew,” you said flatly. “What the fuck.”

“I was going to tell you.”

“When? When I saw you parkour off a fire escape in a three-piece suit?”

“I— look, I didn’t want this to change anything. I didn’t want you to change how you looked at me.”

“Look, I’ve been working beside you for over a year. And you didn’t think, at any point, to maybe mention that you moonlight as a one-man SWAT team?”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“Well, good job, Matt. Really nailed it.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then leaned forward slightly, voice lower. “Listen, I know you're upset. I would be too. I didn’t tell you only because I care about you. Because this thing, what I do— it’s brutal. And if anyone ever found out how much you mean to me...”

You blinked. That shut you up. For a second.

“Oh, so I mean something to you now?”

“I think that’s been fairly obvious.”

Matt noticed the way your heartbeat changed when he said you meant something to him. He figured this was a bad time to bring it up, although he smiled to himself at what that meant.

“I’m not mad that you’re Daredevil.”

That made him pause.

You went on. “I’m mad that you didn’t tell me. That you didn’t trust me enough to know. But... I get it. I really do.”

Matt didn’t say anything. Just listened. Really listened.

“You protect people. That’s who you are. And I don’t mean the mask or the fists or any of that— I mean you. The guy who goes to court for tenants getting pushed out of rent-stabilized apartments. The guy who sits through paperwork and trials and still somehow finds time to help people when the system doesn’t. So yeah, I get why you kept it quiet. I would’ve done the same.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Whatever he expected, it wasn’t this.

You stepped a little closer. “Would it have been easier to hear it from you directly? Sure. But I also understand why you didn’t. You’re trying to keep people safe. That’s kind of your whole thing.”

“I didn’t want to put you in danger.”

You gave him a look. “Matt. I’m a defence attorney in Hell’s Kitchen. I’m already in danger.”

He huffed a laugh, tension slipping just slightly.

“And besides,” you added, “it’s not like you told everybody.”

Matt winced. “Karen and Foggy know.”

“Splendid,” you muttered. “I’m last to know. That feels great.”

He opened his mouth to explain, but you waved him off.

“It’s okay. Really. I get it. You didn’t think I could handle it, or maybe you were just scared of what it would mean. Either way, I want you to know I still look at you the same way. Hell, I think I respect you more now."

His expression softened— like something in him untangled all at once.

“And Matt?” you said, quieter now. “I'm still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

That undid him more than any kiss could have. Matt Murdock was already in love with you.

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Weeks passed. Then months.

You slipped into the parts of his life he never thought he'd share with you— quiet nights on the couch with cold tea and warmer glances, half-finished cases strewn between your desks, your voice low and steady on the phone as you helped him stitch up a gash at 2AM because Claire was out of town. You didn’t flinch at the bruises anymore. You stopped asking where they came from. Not because you didn’t care— because you knew he’d tell you if he could.

You joked that you were his unofficial dispatcher. He joked that you were the only one keeping him alive. It was good. Better than good, most nights. You were steady, sharp, present in a way that grounded him even on the worst days. You kept him tethered.

But even the strongest anchor can’t keep something from drifting if the pull is strong enough. It had been building.

After a particularly brutal stretch— three back-to-back nights of Daredevil coming home bleeding and bruised, a botched sting, a kid who didn’t make it— Matt changed.

He got quieter. Tense. He stopped calling when he was out late. Stopped dropping by your place after patrols. Stopped letting you patch him up. When you showed up with food one night and found his apartment dark, he didn’t even text to say thanks. You let it go. Once. Twice. Then you stopped letting it go.

It was almost midnight. The city was soft and silver around you, the streetlamps humming like old secrets. You’d waited for him— on the pavement outside the office, case files abandoned inside, takeout cold and forgotten. When he finally turned the corner, hoodie up, bruised along the cheekbone, your blood was already simmering.

You stood before he could say anything.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?”

Matt paused. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Bullshit,” you said. “You’ve been dodging me for weeks. You come back barely stitched together, and suddenly I’m a stranger? What, I only exist when you need to be sewn back together?”

“You knew what you were getting into.”

That hit harder than it should’ve.

You crossed your arms. “I told you I could handle this. That I was here because I wanted to be. You don’t get to push me out every time things get hard.”

Matt’s jaw tightened. “I never asked for your help.”

You stared at him. “Wow.”

“I didn’t,” he said, voice lower now. “You inserted yourself. You wanted this. You stayed.”

“Because I care about you, you idiot,” you said incredulously.

He looked away. “If this isn’t working for you—”

“Don’t,” you warned. “Don’t turn this around on me.”

“You don’t have to stay.”

You flinched. “So that’s it? You’re just giving me an out?”

“I’m saying,” he said, sharp now, “if you don’t want to keep doing this, you can stop. I’m not going to hold you here.”

Your chest burned. “Right. Got it. Loud and clear, Murdock.”

“Good. Glad we're on the same page.”

"Fine."

“Fine.”

You turned. He turned. The silence between your retreating footsteps felt louder than anything either of you had said.

You made it maybe ten steps before you turned on your heel. At the same time, Matt doubled back from the other end of the block. You both stopped mid-step.

“This is stupid,” you said.

“I know,” he echoed.

You walked back to each other like it hurt to be apart even for that long. Stopped just a few feet shy of touching.

Matt ran a hand through his hair, exhaling hard. Then, after a second— calmer now, but still visibly unraveling— he said, “You do realize what’s going on, right?”

You tilted your head. “You mean us shouting at each other in the middle of the street like deranged theatre kids?”

He gave you that small, crooked smile, the one he only let slip when it was just you. “I mean this,” he said, gesturing to the space in between you.

A beat. Then you laughed, soft and breathless. “Oh yeah. For two Ivy-educated lawyers, we are extremely oblivious people.”

“Painfully,” Matt said, taking one slow step closer. “Embarrassingly.”

You looked up at him, heart thudding. “Do we keep pretending? Or...”

“I don’t want to.”

“Oh, thank god,” you whispered.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t hesitant. Wasn’t cautious. It was months of built-up tension, late nights, shared space, quiet devotion, and almosts finally snapping into something real. His hands cupped your face. Yours gripped the front of his jacket. He kissed you like he’d been waiting for permission— and now that he had it, he wasn’t wasting time.

Before you could breathe, your back hit the wall. The brick was cool, sharp against your spine— nothing compared to the heat of him. His mouth crashed into yours, rough and hungry, all the restraint he’d held onto suddenly gone.

You gasped, and that was all he needed. His body pressed flush against yours, arm braced beside your head. One hand slid down, catching your waist and holding you there like he wasn’t letting go anytime soon. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your fingers threading into his hair, tugging. That made him groan— low and quiet and right against your lips.

The kiss deepened— messier, more desperate. He was everywhere. Warm mouth, steady grip, chest rising hard against yours. You barely registered the moment your hand slipped beneath his jacket, over the fabric of his shirt, just needing to feel something more. When you finally pulled back— barely— your forehead rested against his.

“That was…” you started, still catching your breath.

Matt laughed, voice rough and low. “Yeah. That was.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering shut for a second. “We are going to be so annoying now.”

He grinned, thumb brushing along your jaw. “We already were.”

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inkdrinkerworld · 2 months ago

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Matt Murdock is the type of boyfriend who’s very stern, but not in the typical sense.

Sure he’s got an opinion, but he knows how to work his tone so you don’t feel backed into a corner.

Like when you’re up late, reading and you strut to the kitchen for another cup of coffee and another chocolate but Matt knows, he knows what happens. You won’t sleep because of the caffeine and sugar, so he intervenes.

“Sweetheart, how about a hot chocolate instead?” It’ll satisfy both your cravings, a warm drink, and something sweet, but will eliminate the caffeine and give you both a chance to sleep tonight.

“But Matty, that new coffee tastes delicious. Just one more cup?”

He shakes his head, stretching till his joints crack and then he stands from the dining table. He’d been going over some files for his and Foggy’s latest case.

“I’m sorry darling,” Matt comes up behind you, hands in your hips as he presses his lips to your shoulder. “We both know you won’t sleep if that happens. Let’s do the hot chocolate, baby.”

He’s a sneaky bastard. His lips coast your shoulders as he speaks, his sweet touches on your hips, and his rarely used ‘baby’.

Matt is a master at you, if he says so himself.

“Okay,” you sigh, but it’s all wistful and lovely. “But I’m having my biscuits.”

Matt laughs, “Oh, I could never deny you, sweetheart.”

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allllium · 5 months ago

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Perfect for Me

~ Matt Murdock x insecure!reader

~ omg two posts in two days 😮 this is not edited at all so ignore my mistakes

~ Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, WC: 1,679

- Matt comforts insecure reader -

Dating a blind guy is very different from any other relationship you've had for very obvious reasons. Not only is it an adjustment going out with and even living with someone that can't see, but Matt is different. He has senses that other blind people don't which makes things even harder. You love Matt but that doesn't mean it's not an adjustment.

Obviously he can't see you but he knows everything about you. He knows the basics of how you look but not the details. Sometimes that's hard. Only because you fear he has some other idea of you in his head. Like the real you can't match up to the look of you he has in his head.

It's silly, you know, but it's not like you can just get rid of the thoughts in your head. Matt can tell something's wrong, a bonus of his super senses. So far though, he hasn't asked about it. He's learned over time to give you a little bit of time to process your issue before he tries to get involved.

It's not his fault, simply your insecurities getting the best of you. It'll be fine you tell yourself, wondering around the apartment you now share with Matt. Maybe that's where it's coming from. You guys have always spent a lot of time together but now your space is his, and when you want space to yourself, you don't have a separate apartment to hide in. You certainly don't want that but what if he does?

You turn on some music to fill your rattled brain. Nothing loud but enough to distract your thoughts. You soon turn from wondering to cleaning. It's become a daily habit since Matt rarely has time. You have no problem doing it because you know it makes Matt feel slightly better. Not as much dust and grime for his senses to focus on.

You're very ingrained in your scrubbing of the counter when you hear the door shut.

"Hey, Matty." You call out to greet him, not taking your attention off the counter for a second.

"Hi." His faces lights up as he sees you. "How was your day?" He asks, planting a soft kiss on your temple.

"Not nearly as eventful as yours I imagine." You smile, turning around to meet his beaming face. He has already taken off his suit jacket while walking towards you and has began loosening his tie. Giving him that slightly casual look that you know and love.

"I actually think that's true today, though the most amusing part of it was hearing Foggy fall out of his chair not once but twice within a twenty minute period." You listen intently to his words as you finish wiping off the counter. His words get quieter as he slowly makes his way to the bedroom for more comfortable clothes.

You know Matt feels a great pressure to keep the city safe by going out every night, but your favorite night of the week is the one where you've both agreed he stays in. One of the few requests you had when moving in.

"How the hell did he manage that?" You chortle, imagining it in your head. You can hear Matt's laugh from the other room.

"I have no clue, you'd think he'd learn after the first time." He comes back into the living space wearing black sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. After you got together, you had to take Matt shopping for new, plain, clothes considering most of the ones he owned had something stupid and possibly embarrassing on them due to Foggy, bright colors and big slogans. "I heard him whine about it for the rest of the day."

"At least your days aren't boring like the other lawyers."

"That's definitely a plus of partnering with him."

This is the best part of your day. Talking to him about your days and gossiping about the people you know, plus all the people Matt hears about during the day. The only problem seems to be the words that won't leave your head.

"How do you feel about spaghetti for dinner?" You ask him as he grabs a water out of the fridge. Usually, he'd grab a beer but out of fear for his liver you haven't bought any in a week.

"Sounds perfect. How can I help?"

"I can do it, you worked all day."

"Worked is a loose term." He laughs to himself. You and he both know a lot of their work consists of finding new cases.

"You can boil the pasta if you want to be helpful."

"Oh that's easy. It's almost as if you don't believe in my culinary skills."

You turn and give him a stare that makes him smirk. "Matthew, I know what you lived on before I moved in."

"Okay water it is." He gives you get another kiss before searching for a suitable pot.

You hum along to the soft background music as you and Matt work on your tasks. Once he's done with his, he stands right beside you in silence.

"So." He starts.

"So?" You repeat.

"I didn't want to bring this up but I think it's important-"

"That sounds scary."

"For me, yes. I talked to Karen today."

Oh fuck. To say Karen knows your deepest darkest secrets would be an understatement. For Matt to start a conversation like this about her, she told him something. Something you're know wracking your brain to figure out.

It's not that you think Karen would sell you out. But Matt is very charming and sometimes you find yourself telling him things without even realizing.

"I would hope so." You try to play it off like you're not immensely worried about his coming words. "She is your secretary."

"I don't think she'd appreciate that title." He laughs nervously. You know he's nervous because his glasses are still on. He's trying to make sure you can't read him at the moment.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want it to seem like I was invading your privacy."

"Matt, you always do that. You hear literally everything I do."

"Yes but this feels different."

"You wouldn't have started this conversation if you didn't have something to say so please get on with it."

"I heard you talking to Karen the other day when she was over. And I tried not to read too much into it but then I talked to her today and I'm officially reading into it."

"Karen and I have talked about a lot of things, that doesn't really help me understand."

You try to seem nonchalant by stirring the pasta sauce.

"I heard you telling her how you don't think you live up the version of you I have in my head." He whispers the words as if that'll make it easier. Of course. Out of everything he could've heard, it was the one thing you really, really don't want to talk about. You know Matt isn't going to let this go until you answer all his questions.

"That was over a week ago." You whisper over the sauce.

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. But I only heard a part of what you said and I couldn't handle not knowing the rest."

A heavy sigh escapes you. It's not his fault. You are still adjusting to how much he can hear from so far so you didn't even think about that when he came home that day. You also can't fault him for wanting to know more, if the roles were reversed you would've gone to Foggy to know more almost immediately.

"You obviously weren't supposed to hear that." You turn off the stove top and look at him. "I don't suppose we can keep acting like you know nothing about that?" Your words come out with a hopeful tone.

"No we can't. Sweetheart, how can you feel like that? Have I made you doubt yourself like this?" He pulls you away from the kitchen and pushes you to sit next to him on the couch.

"You have done nothing Matt. You're perfect. I just can't get it out of my mind that every time you're complimenting me, it's not actually me. It's the more beautiful version of me you have in your head." He already knows enough, might as well tell him the rest.

"I know what you look like. Maybe I can't see every detail but I know enough to know every compliment I've ever given you, has been for you. I can't see everything on your face but I can sort of see the shape of you."

You're just now realizing you've never actually asked Matt what he can see. Knowing he was blind you always figured he couldn't see anything.

"What do you see?" You ask now.

"It's difficult to explain. I see certain figures but not all the time. It's kinda like flames that prevent me from seeing things but they don't always stay in the same spot."

"So how are you so confident I'm the same that you think I am?" He moves closer to hold your hand and lean more against you.

"Because I've had everyone describe you. Foggy, Karen, even Frank at one point. And I've felt your face a lot, enough to understand the shape of everything. Your eyes, lips, nose. Everything that makes you, you."

"Feeling is different than seeing."

"For other people yes. For me, this is the only way I know a lot of things. It's the way I've learned to know things so I'm better at it. I don't need to see every detail when everything I've felt is beyond perfect."

You feel tears appear in your waterline. Leave it to Matt to know the perfect thing to say. Always.

"When I say you're perfect for me, I mean it. More than anything."

He wipes the tears off your face the second they begin to fall.

"You're perfect for me too, Matty."

"Good." He states. "You're gonna be with for the rest of forever."

"That's a nice plan."

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spider-stark · 5 days ago

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KAFKA

pairing | matt murdock x reader

summary | matt made the mistake of telling you how loud electricity is—now Franz Kafka's invaded your thoughts

warnings | mention of bugs, domestic matt, reader and foggy are totally besties, no beta so if there's an error just kick me in the face

word count | 700+

Sometime after you moved in together, Matt told you how electricity buzzed.

“Like a bug in your ear,” he said.

You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that. Living in a world where you could never escape something so constant, so pestilent.

Which is exactly why you spiraled.

“Honey, relax.” Matt laughed as you bombarded him with rapid-fire questions about how loud everything was: the TV, the Keurig, your phone charger by the bed. “I’ve dealt with it most of my life,” he assured you. “I can tune it out most days.”

Great! Fine. Dandy, even!

Except it actually wasn’t great, fine, or dandy. Because while “most days” was objectively better than “no days,” it was still drastically worse than “all days.”

You didn’t want Matt to just ignore the buzz.

You wanted it to stop.

But, since he lovingly asked you to, you dropped it. Let him shift the topic to his day at work—how Karen kept burning the coffee and Foggy had gone full mother hen, nagging him about setting up a doctor’s appointment for that kink in his lower back (which turned into you nagging him, too).

Knowledge of the buzz lingered, though. Festered in the back of your mind like a scab you couldn’t quite reach, desperate to pick.

It became an obsession. Then a complex.

Eventually, you couldn’t even turn on a light without going full Kafka, envisioning some giant bug that you set loose skittering around your boyfriend’s head.

So, you did what any normal person would.

You got rid of your lights.

In a single afternoon, you traded all your lamps for beeswax candles, unscrewed the bulbs from every overhead light, and replaced your nightlight with a heaping dose of Grow The Hell Up.

By the time Matt got off work, you were in the kitchen finishing up dinner. A certain giddiness flooded your veins as you heard his key turn in the lock. Again, you wanted to bombard him with questions. Did he notice a difference? Had the world finally gone quiet?

But you held your eager tongue.

Matt took off his shoes, loosening his tie as he came up behind you at the stove. You were stirring a pot, biting your lip to keep from grinning as strong arms slipped around your waist. Between chaste cheek kisses, he mumbled his usual greetings. Did you have a nice day?—a devilish curve of his lips—Did you miss me?

It wasn’t until several moments later, when you asked him to pull some plates down from the cabinet, that Matt stopped and tilted his head.

Bemused, he asked, “Are you cooking in the dark?”

You loudly objected. Not just because you really weren’t, but because Matt’s mouth didn’t always have an off-switch around his best friend, and cooking in the dark was the sort of breach in Kitchen Safety 101 that would send Foggy—with whom you’d recently Grouponed a beginner’s culinary class—into cardiac arrest.

“I have candles,” you assured him. “And the billboard!”

Oh, the billboard… The one hitch in your pursuit of silence.

Posted right outside your apartment, the big digital billboard shined through the windows day and night, painting your living room like a technicolor dreamland. You used to not mind it—maybe even liked it, once. But ever since the buzz-talk, all you could think was how loud something like that must be to Matt’s hyper-sensitive ears.

Disregarding plates and dinner, Matt held a hand out in your direction. You took it, letting him pull you in for a hug.

You melted into him. He smelled like soap and city streets, like salvation and eternal spring.

Matt kissed your forehead. Once, twice—a third time to prove you were real, here, his. “I love that you care so much—” another kiss, on the tip of your nose this time “—I love you,” he said. “But I don’t expect you to live your whole life in the dark.”

He wasn’t talking about lamps or nightlights, you knew, but real darkness. A soul tangled in sin. A man with the devil inside him.

But when you looked at Matt, you saw none of that.

All you saw was light.

All you heard was a sweet, calming buzz.

“I won’t,” you promised him, tightening your arms around his waist. “Not as long as I have you.”

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

a/n | would you believe me if I said this was originally over 3k and a frank fic? (istg, matt is always losing his girl to frank in my writing.) but it pissed me off, so I decided to keep it short and let matt be happy for once in his life.

anyways, thanks for reading! I'm gonna go write about mighty ducks now

#matt murdock imagine #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #daredevil imagine #daredevil imagines #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fic #daredevil x you #daredevil fic

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r3ita-g4zette · 2 months ago

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Could you write a small oneshot of Matt Murdock x reader where you help him shave?? 🥺🥺 like where you’re on the bathroom counter with him between your legs just letting you shave him??

Of course!! I love the idea of Matt trusting you with something so intimate, even if it is a small act.

Helping Matt shave

Matt Murdock x GN!reader

Matt’s hands ran along your thighs, tracing shapes that didn’t even seem to make out anything. Mornings like these brought a sense of assurance in his life, a way to ground himself in who he really is. Yes, he is the man who goes out at night and “saves the city”, but he’s also just a man, a man who is desperately in love with you.

He wasn’t the kind of man to fall this hard, but he couldn’t help himself. It was the little things you’d do for him, like now.

You sat atop the bathroom counter while Matt stood between your legs. You had a hand on the bottom of Matt’s chin as you dragged the razor along your boyfriend’s shaving cream covered face. Matt’s eyes were open, staring, but unable to see. He craved more than anything to see you, to admire your beauty.

The way the razor swiftly dragged along his jaw earned a content sigh from him. Matt’s hand was still on your thigh, slowly moving up your leg as you shaved his face. He liked being pampered, and the way you had him wrapped around your finger was making him fall apart at the seams. He bit his lip at the thought of how much control you held over him before he opened his mouth to speak.

“You’re doing a good job.”

He spoke with that smooth tone that sent chills down your spine, his voice a bit raspier from tiredness. He was so soft for you.

“And how would you know?” You retorted, a gentle smile painting your lips at the joke. It was common, the two of you to joke of his blindness.

A smirk tugged on the corners of Matt’s lips as he let out a soft chuckle, his thumb gently rubbing your thigh at your comment.

“Oh, I just know.”

He quipped back, shifting his neck so you had better access to shave below his jaw. He let out a sigh when the razor glided over his skin, his tone suddenly softer as he added, “Keep going.”

You dragged the razor along Matt’s neck, the white shaving cream on his face and neck soon disappearing. “There, I’m all done.” You whispered, pecking his nose as your hands cupped his face.

“Now you feel all soft,” you tenderly cooed. Matt smirked at your touch, the corners of his lips turning upwards at your praise. As you finished up shaving him clean, Matt leaned just a bit closer, his body pressing up against yours. He loved having you this close to him, your proximity was like a drug he couldn't get enough of.

“All thanks to you, sweetheart.”

He murmured, his voice low and gravelly as his smirk turned into a soft smile. You couldn’t help but kiss him, hands sliding up to the back of his neck as you pulled away and admired him, and despite the fact Matt couldn’t see, he opened his eyes eagerly.

In typical Matt fashion, he cupped the bottom of your thighs and picked you up, guiding you through the house with ease to your shared bedroom.

A soft noise escaped your lips as Matt’s lips locked with yours. This is gonna be a long night…

wc; 504

#matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil x reader #daredevil #matt murdock daredevil #daredevil fluff #matt Murdock x reader fluff #X reader #matt murdock x gender neutral reader #marvel x reader #matthew murdock #matthew murdock x reader

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xoxoavenger · 1 year ago

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! 🎁🎈🎂🎉🎊 I loved Try Me (Matt Murdock x Reader), I was wondering if maybe you could write a sequel? I could see an intimate moment where she’s feeding him the soup she made and taking care of him, potentially with the hilarity of Foggy finding out he’s got two super powered friends

thanks! hopefully this is what you were looking for, I had fun writing it!

Ask Me

pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

word count: 1099

warnings: none

part 1

birthday masterlist main masterlist

"I can't believe you're Daredevil." She mutters as she ladles the soup into a bowl. She made a broth more than a soup because she didn't have time to cut the vegetables, but it'll do the trick. She also didn't know the extent of Matt's injures, and she didn't want him to have trouble eating anything. "Does Foggy know?" She asks as she brings the bowl over to the couch.

"Yes," Matt chuckles, but his teeth are clenched in pain. She kneels next to the couch and she is still shocked by his injuries, even though she's already seen them. He has a large cut across his chest, and resists the urge to touch it.

She watches Matt try to sit up, but he's clearly in too much pain. She puts the soup on the ground in favor of helping him up. She tries not to let her pulse rush as she touches his bare back and bicep, pulling him up gently until he is sitting up enough to eat.

"Here, let's get you some food." She tells him, spooning some broth and then carefully helping him eat some. It's so quiet in the apartment that she swears she can feel her own heart race as she feeds Matt. They're close, and her brain is reeling with the thought of how Matt, and blind man, can be a vigilante.

"I think that's good." Matt groans when they're about three fourths of the way though the bowl. She gets up to put the bowl away and grab a warm, wet cloth.

"How are you Daredevil?" She asks, sinking down to her knees again and beginning to wipe off the blood around his wounds.

"Are you asking if I'm actually blind?" He questions, but he's smiling, so she can tell he's joking.

"I know you're blind, Matt." She says with a small sigh. She's seen his unfocused eyes too many times to think he was just preteneding.

"All my other senses are heightened." He tells her, tensing as she begins to wipe a big, deep cut. She hopes that soon her healing food will kick in; she's never seen it help on this level, and she's worried it won't work as well as Matt is hoping it will.

"So, you can hear really good?" She asks, wondering what exactly that means. He shrugs, smiling a little bit.

"And smell, and taste. And feel. I have to have specific sheets because of how sensitive my skin is." He's feeling better, she can tell, and it makes her smile.

"How did figure it out?" She asks quietly. She's had these powers ever since she can remember, but she'd never told anyone and no one ever figured it out either. This is a first, sharing a gift, and she can't help but feel a little scared.

"That your food could heal people?" He clarifies. She almost nods, but then catches herself.

"Yeah," She confirms.

"You asked me what happened again the day after you first gave me the croissant, as if you knew it should have gone away. And I usually have accelerated healing anyway, but not that fast. You wouldn't have known that." He's starting to relax more, and she knows he needs to get some sleep soon.

"You wanna move to the bed?" She asks, putting the cloth down and preparing to move him. Before he can answer, Foggy comes stomping back in.

"So both of my best friends are super heroes?" He yells, throwing the drugstore bag in their general direction. Y/N's eyes widen as Foggy walks to them.

"I am not a super hero." Y/N clarifies.

"I wouldn't classify myself as one either." Matt interjects, a hand out to stop Foggy's rant. It does nothing, and Foggy soldiers on.

"You can feel, hear, and smell things no human should be able to feel, hear, and smell." He points at Matt, who raises an eyebrow. "And you can heal people with your food, that you've been feeding me for months!" Foggy moves to Y/N, and she just shakes her head.

"Have you ever wondered why you haven't gotten sick in months?" She asks, and he just scoffs.

"That proves my point!" He screams. Y/N and Matt shake their heads, Matt smirking.

"Foggy, neither of us are superheroes. You don't need to freak out." Matt tries to calm him down, but Foggy just gets more worked up.

"Are you kidding me? You could be Avengers for all I know!" Foggy grabs the bag that he had thrown and begins to get some of the bandages and Neosporin out to help Matt.

"Oh my God," Y/N groans, rolling her eyes and putting her head in her hands. Honestly, Foggy freaking out was kinda funny, but she isn't sure if he's being serious now or not.

"We're not Avengers, Foggy." Matt chuckles, and Y/N begins to put bandages over Matt's injuries.

"Well I just don't know that, do I?" Foggy looks over at the pot on the stove, walking over there quickly. "What did you make?"

"Just a quick broth. I wanted to get Matt something quick." She tells Foggy as she begins to focus on the task at hand.

"Is this why I haven't gotten paper cuts?" Foggy asks as he ladles a little soup out for himself.

"It doesn't make you skin extra strong, Fog." Matt tells him as she continues bandaging him up. Her hands brushing his skin make Matt want to crawl out of his skin in a good way, which didn't make sense until this very moment.

"Did I hurt you?" Y/N asks softly when he tenses.

"No," He mutters, putting a hand on her wrist to stop her. "It's okay, I think the big ones are taken care of." He just wants to lay down and sleep it off now, but he wants to ask her one more thing.

"Let me help you to your room." She offers, and together, with him leaning on her, they make it to Matt's room.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asks as they sit down. He can feel the heat begin to flush her cheeks, her heart beginning to race. He's worried still that maybe she feels uncomfortable until she responds.

"Working." She thinks she's funny, and Matt chuckles.

"Do you want to go to Josie's with me tomorrow night?" He asks, and she ducks her head and smiles.

"As long as my boss lets me off on time." She says, nudging him with her shoulder.

"I'll talk to him." He tells her, both of them smiling hard enough that their cheeks hurt.

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler @thefandomplace @mcueveryday @icequeen1371 @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch

#matt murdock imagine #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader fluff #matt murdock #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #daredevil

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luffyssa · 6 months ago

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i got bored so here's a meme

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elseishollow · 4 months ago

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heartbeats - matt murdock

synopsis: someones heartbeat is giving it away

pairings: matt murdock x reader

warnings: none

notes: knocking out three requests in a row i’m on a roll. this can be based off matt in the earlier seasons idk

Matt isn’t trying to notice. Really, he’s not. But it’s hard not to when your heart starts racing the second he leans in.

You’re sitting side by side on his couch, going over some case files, when he reaches past you to grab a pen. His arm barely brushes yours—just a light shift in the air, his warmth lingering for half a second. And yet, your pulse jumps like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

His lips press together, fighting back a knowing smile.

You clear your throat, shifting slightly, but you don’t say anything. Just keep your eyes on the papers in front of you like they’re the most interesting thing in the world. But then he does it again—leans in, close enough that he can hear the hitch in your breath, the way your heartbeat stutters, a little too quick, a little too obvious.

And then there’s the warmth—subtle at first, then blooming. Across your cheeks, down your neck, that slow creeping heat that tells him everything.

Yeah.

You’ve got a crush on him.

And now, he knows.

"Something wrong?" he asks, casual, like he doesn’t already have the answer.

You sit up straighter. "Nope. Why?"

His lips twitch. "You’re fidgeting."

Your fingers freeze against the paper. "No, I’m not.”

"You are."

A pause. You let out a slow breath, clearly trying to keep yourself in check, but your heart betrays you again—one sharp little thump against your ribs. Matt leans back, smiling now, pleased in that quiet, infuriating way of his.

You swallow. "You’re doing that thing."

"What thing?”

"That smug thing."

His brows lift, feigning innocence. "I have no idea what you mean."

You groan, burying your face in your hands. "I hate you."

His laughter is soft, warm. "No, you don’t."

And he doesn’t have to see your face to know you’re smiling, too.

#something short and sweet 🫶#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #fluff

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago

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Matt: what’re you in jail for?

Frank: the fuck you think I’m in here for? Playing nice?

Matt: you’re right, how stupid of me. (Name) what’re you doing here? You usually keep your head out of trouble.

You: I hugged a manatee!

Frank: …

Matt:…

You: apparently manatees are a threatened species due to habitat loss and such, so human activity with them are heavily regulated regarding them, but I’d gladly do it again because what do you mean I can’t hug the manatee that’s clinging onto my leg?! That should be illegal in my opinion!

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to-thelakes · 1 year ago

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sleepy

pairing; matt murdock x fem!reader

summary; re-adjusting to anti-depressants was never an easy task but you have your vigilante boyfriend to help.

warnings; fluff, just pure fluff, reader is on anti-depressants and very very sleepy, also a cheese lover

notes; this one-shot is definitely at least a few months old, i think i wrote it when i originally switched my dosage so it's a little chaotic. i feel like there's a lack of fics talking or discussing antidepressants so i like filling in the gap to comfort anyone who was suffering the sleepiness and shitty feelings like i was those first few months. also this is my first matty one-shot i'm releasing so please enjoy <3

masterlist

You were so tired. The first two weeks of antidepressants, you were told, would be the worst but it hadn’t prepared you for just how exhausted you felt. You had spent most of the first three days, curled up in bed and sleeping the day away. By the fourth day, your snack supplies had already begun to dwindle which is the opposite of what you needed right now.

And by the fifth day, you had to venture out to the store. And that had killed you off. You had gotten back, grabbed a bag of chips and curled up on the couch. Within a few hours you were asleep and you stayed like that for another four hours. The TV had suddenly seemed to get astronomically loud and it woke you from your slumber.

So, with a little huff, you rolled off the couch and began to make something proper to eat for dinner. But you felt exhausted. It clung to your mind, hovering over you as you tried to make cheesy pasta. Everything felt impossible and slow and it was frustrating but it was made better when you heard the familiar tap-tap-tap on the fire escape window.

A grin spread across your face as you left your pasta to heat up the cheese, pulling the window open as Matt Murdock climbed through. He was still in his Daredevil costume and you thought he looked rather silly but he already knew that’s what you thought of his costume. He liked hearing you tease him.

But rather than saying anything, you just wrapped your arms around his torso and hugged him. Your eyes fell closed as you snuggled into him making him chuckle softly.

“It’s nice to see you too, darling,” He greeted softly. All you had the energy to do was hum in vague acknowledgement. His arms wrapped around your shoulders for a moment before he softly reminded you about the food on the stove. So, you reluctantly pulled back and went over to the pan. You split the pasta into two bowls and turned around just as Matt pulled his helmet off. He placed it down on the counter before cautiously walking over to you.

“I’m sleepy,” You mumbled softly as you passed him the bowl. He took a hold of it, searching for the fork before he began to eat it. You had added a little bit of seasoning, salt, pepper, garlic powder in hopes of giving it a little more flavour. But you knew within the first bite and from the look on Matt’s face that you had gone overboard with the garlic. A huff escaped your lips and you placed the bowl on the side, “I’m going back to bed,” You declared, giving up for the day. Matt chuckled, listening to your footsteps as you walked across the apartment to your bed.

The air moved around you as you face-planted and he couldn’t help another chuckle as he turned around. His gaze landed somewhere near you but you weren’t even paying attention. Sleep was desperate to crawl up your spine and take you in but Matt was here now and you wanted to see him for a bit.

He managed to place the bowl on your side before he navigated his way carefully through your apartment. He could smell a bowl of hummus on the floor somewhere, you had a habit of leaving random crockery on the floor so he was being careful before he reached your bed. He crawled onto it before he sat cross-legged across from you.

“How long have you slept today?” He asked curiously. You mumbled in vague response but he didn’t catch a single word of it. He reached out towards you and gently pushed your head back so that you would tilt your head to the side, “What was that?” He had a teasing lilt to his tone and it made you want to smack him.

“A while but I’m sleepy,” You muttered. Matt knew that you were on new medication. You had tried to hide it from him a few days ago but he could smell your body going haywire. It was the same with everyone he had known who switched medication. Body’s went haywire while they adjusted before eventually settling back into routine.

That’s all this was but he still found your sleepy-grumpiness adorable. Matt held his hand out towards you and you reluctantly dragged yourself so you could curl into his lap. His fingers began to run through your hair but the strands were getting caught on his gloves. You let out disgruntled noises before he decided to take his gloves off. Then his fingertips began to massage your scalp and you hummed happily.

“You feeling better?” He asked. You ‘mhm’d in response and he could tell that you were going to fall asleep in his lap, “I need to change, darling. Need you to get out of my lap.” There was an amused lilt to his voice and another disgruntled noise fell from your lips. You moved out of his lap before dropping onto the top of the bed. Matt always found your mood while sleepy to be not all that dissimilar to a cat. You hated being disturbed when you were curled up and comfortable and when you were, you gave the offender the evils.

You assumed Matt didn’t know that you did that but he could sense it. He had always been able to feel your gaze boring into him.

“In the usual place?” He asked. You let out another hum of agreement before you burrito’d in your covers, snuggling your face into the pillow. He changed silently, listening to your heartbeat and breathing to see if you had fallen asleep. But it seemed you weren’t falling into it quite yet. Once he had changed, he walked over to the bed and lay on top of the mattress.

And that was when you unburritoed yourself and crawled on top of Matt. You practically curled up on his chest, burritoing both of you with the covers as you snuggle into his neck. Matt’s arms wrapped around your back.

“Much better,” You mumbled under your breath. He chuckled softly at your words and you let your eyes close. Your breathe evened out relatively quickly, “Much better.” You snuggled up to him, peppering kisses across his neck before you nuzzled there. Matt grinned and pressed a kiss against your hairline.

“Glad I could be of service,” He teased. You grumbled against his chest but he merely continued to grin, kissing your hairline again before he let his eyes fall closed.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #reader-insert #reader insert #daredevil #matt murdock fic #matt murdock x reader fluff #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfic

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matt-murdockk · 2 months ago

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I can fix him (no really I can)

They shake their heads saying, "God help her" When I tell them he's my man But your good Lord doesn't need to lift a finger I can fix him, no, really I can And only I can

college!matt murdock x fem!reader | fluff— a whole lotta fluff | sorta friends to lovers? | fic from reader's pov, then a pov switch to third person

Matt Murdock famously doesn't stick around for longer than a month, tops. You were determined to change that.

Pre-law golden boy with an aura that exudes confidence, Matt was the person everyone either wanted to be, or wanted to be with. He knew that, and his faux modesty only made it worse for the masses desperate to get a piece of him. Am I one of—? Please, I'd fuck a tree before I fuck Matt Murdock. Not that I hate him or anything. I'm just not on the bed anyone with abs and a personality bandwagon. Good for him for all that attention he's getting, but my ties with him start and end in class. He's just a classmate.

Okay, maybe not just a classmate.

We share notes. Sometimes. Only when he forgets his, which is rare, because apparently being hot and capable is a combo this man insists on wielding like a goddamn weapon. Once, he offered to buy me coffee as a thank you and I made the mistake of saying yes. We ended up talking for an hour. One hour. And somehow I left that conversation knowing his middle name, his favourite diner his dad used to take him to, and exactly what kind of espresso he drinks before a big exam.

It was fine. It’s fine. People have conversations all the time. I’m not spiraling.

We became friends. Real ones. That was the problem.

Because here’s the thing: Matt Murdock is a disaster.

Not on paper. No— on paper, he’s perfect. He’s top of the class, charming when he wants to be, a little cocky, but in a way that makes you laugh instead of wanting to push him down the stairs.

But spend enough time around him and you start to notice things.

Like how he never lets anyone get close. Like how he flirts with half the campus but every single one of his flings ends in vague silence and awkward glances the next day. Like how he knows exactly how to listen to someone but refuses to let anyone hear him.

It’s not a red flag. It’s a goddamn red parade.

So of course I did what any completely normal person with an ounce of self-preservation would do.

I caught feelings for that bastard.

Of course, it's the emotionally unavailable mess with enough red flags to decorate a fucking carnival that catches my attention. Just my goddamn luck.

And, in a moment of sheer lunacy, decided I could fix him.

No really, I could. Just needed time. And patience. And maybe a crowbar for emotional extraction. Whatever. I’ve done harder things. If I can survive Mr Vasquez's class, I can survive whatever this is.

I just have to make sure he never finds out I like him. And also make him like me back. And maybe heal years of trust issues in the process.

Easy, right?

Well, it wasn’t.

Because what started as some deranged attempt to break into the fortress that is Matt Murdock turned into something else entirely. We became friends. Real friends. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being about fixing him and started being about just… being there.

And God help me, I think he needed that more than anything.

It wasn’t just me and Matt anymore, either. Foggy came into the picture fast— bright-eyed, effortlessly funny, with an incredible ability to sniff out bullshit in under five seconds. The three of us? Unstoppable. Study sessions, lunch breaks, late-night coffee runs before an exam. They were my people.

So yeah. The plan backfired. Spectacularly. But I had friends for life now, so I couldn’t exactly call it a failure.

It didn’t mean it stopped hurting, though.

Matt’s life… it wasn’t easy. I could see it in the way he shut down when he was overwhelmed, how he buried himself in work instead of letting anyone in. Some nights he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, but he’d still crack a joke just to make Foggy laugh.

And when he was with other women— when he flirted like it was a language only he spoke— it hurt. Even when I told myself I didn’t have a right to feel that way. He wasn’t mine. I made sure of that.

I’d smile through it. Tease him, even. Make some stupid quip about his tragic taste in women and let the ache settle where no one could see it.

Except Foggy noticed.

He always does.

One afternoon— study session turned snack break in our usual booth— Foggy caught me staring too long. Matt was across the room talking to a girl from one of our electives, charming smile and all.

“You okay?” he asked, nudging me with his elbow.

I blinked. “Yeah. Fine.”

“You sure? Because that definitely wasn’t your ‘fine’ face. That was your ‘I’m swallowing feelings and pretending to be emotionally stable’ face.”

I sighed, resting my chin on my palm. “He’s not doing anything wrong.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I turned to him. “Foggy, I’m not gonna pull a dramatic ‘what are we’ in the middle of a group project. Matt may be a lot of things, but you really cannot force him to be something he doesn’t want to be.”

Foggy frowned. “But do you think he doesn’t want—?”

“Matt would probably suck at relationships,” I said, more tired than bitter. “Like, actual long-term ones. He likes the chase, he likes the moment. And that’s fine. He’s allowed to live how he wants. I just… I’m happy being his friend. Genuinely. Give it time. I’ll get over it.”

Foggy was quiet for a second. “That was… wildly mature.”

“Yeah well, personal growth is a bitch.”

He grinned. “Still. If it helps, he’s not as smooth as he thinks.”

I snorted. “No, but he is absurdly pretty. That makes up for a lot.”

We let the topic die after that. I figured that was the end of it.

I didn’t know Matt had heard.

—————————————————————————————————

Third Person POV

Matt had only come back for his notebook.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He hadn’t meant to hear that.

But he had.

He stopped just shy of the hallway corner, heart thudding loud in his chest. The way her voice dropped when she said “I’ll get over it.”

The words hit harder than he expected.

She thought he’d be a bad boyfriend.

Worse— she didn’t even think he was worth trying.

And Matt knew— he knew— he hadn’t been great. He had a lot on his plate, a whole goddamn feast of mess, but he never once thought she saw him like that. Not undeserving.

She didn’t know he stayed up wondering what it’d feel like to kiss her. For real. Without laughing it off or playing it cool. She didn’t know how often his fingers hovered near hers and didn’t reach. How badly he wanted to.

But if she thought he wasn’t capable of it? Of loving her the way she deserved?

He had to change that.

Not just for her. For him. For the version of himself he wanted to be—the kind that could love someone, openly and fully, without messing it up.

“Jesus,” Foggy muttered when he saw Matt later that night. “You look like you saw a ghost. Or rather... felt a ghost? I don't know, man.”

“I heard something,” Matt said, collapsing onto his bed, voice low.

“Define ‘something.’”

“(Y/N) said I’d be a bad boyfriend.”

Foggy blinked. “Okay. Context?”

Matt dragged a hand over his face. “She was talking to you. In the booth. Earlier.”

Foggy raised his brows. “You, uh, you were there?”

“I forgot my notebook.”

Foggy held up his hands. “Alright, okay. First off— she didn’t say you’d be a bad boyfriend. She said you’d probably suck at steady relationships. Big difference.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, because you’ve never tried a steady relationship. Which is kind of the point.”

Matt groaned. “I need to fix this.”

Foggy stared. “Okay, I’m gonna need you to walk me through your version of fixing this.”

Matt sat up. “I’m gonna prove her wrong.”

Foggy blinked. “You’re gonna… ask her out?”

“No,” Matt said quickly. “I mean— yes. Eventually. But first I need to become the kind of guy she thinks could be a good boyfriend. You know. Change her mind.”

Foggy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Just fuck already.”

Matt frowned. “What?”

Foggy threw his hands in the air. “You like her. She likes you. I have seen you two. Why do you think you want her to stay longer after we're done studying? Why do you think you linger? Why do you think you bring her coffee and save her a seat and remember her deadlines better than your own?”

Matt opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

“She fell first, you fell harder,” Foggy said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You know the drill, man.”

Matt stared.

“…Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. My brother in Christ, you’re in love.”

Matt exhaled.

“…Shit.”

——————————————————————————————————

Matt didn’t sleep that night.

He lay awake, headphones in, a lecture playing that he didn’t hear, the words echoing over and over again in his head.

“She fell first.”

“You fell harder.”

He didn’t even realize when it happened. Somewhere between her snorting at his awful Latin puns and handing him half her sandwich because he forgot to eat again— he’d fallen. And now she thought he was incapable of loving her the way she deserved.

It felt like a punch to the chest.

But instead of wallowing, he decided to do something.

Starting now.

The next morning, Matt showed up to your apartment with coffee. Your exact order. No text beforehand. No heads-up.

You opened the door in pajama shorts and a hoodie, one sock on and a pen still tucked behind your ear.

“Matt?”

He held up the coffee like it was a peace offering. “You mentioned your 9 a.m. was with Vasquez today. I figured you’d need a hit of caffeine and a minor miracle.”

You blinked. “…That’s weirdly thoughtful of you.”

He smiled. “I’ve been working on that.”

And then he left. Just like that.

No flirting. No lingering.

Just… left.

You stared after him, cup in hand, completely thrown.

It didn’t stop there.

Matt started walking you to class. All the time.

Not just when you happened to be heading the same direction. On purpose.

He’d show up at your building with some excuse— “I needed air,” or “Foggy wasn’t ready yet”— and fall into step beside you like it was routine.

Then came the favors. Printing your notes when the Wi-Fi was down. Fixing the broken strap on your bag. Letting you drag him to that awful late-night diner when you were too wired to sleep.

You didn’t get it.

This wasn’t how Matt Murdock operated.

Matt Murdock flirted, ghosted, and moved on.

This? This was effort.

It was also torture.

Because the more he did it, the more you started to hope. Stupid, dangerous hope. Maybe he did like you. Maybe this wasn’t one-sided after all.

But every time you thought about asking, about saying something— he’d flash that same unreadable smile and change the subject.

So you kept your mouth shut. Kept watching. Waiting.

Hoping.

Meanwhile, Foggy was losing his mind.

“You can’t just— Matt, you cannot boyfriend her without telling her.”

Matt frowned, folding his arms. “I thought this was the part where I prove myself.”

“To who? To her? She already likes you. You’re not proving anything except that you’re allergic to communication.”

“I’m building a foundation.”

Foggy looked pained. “You’re building a bad sitcom plot. Just tell her.”

Matt hesitated. “She said she didn’t want that. She said she’d get over me.”

Foggy sighed so hard, his soul probably left his body.

“Matt. Listen to me. She said that because she didn’t think she could have you. You have ghosted every girl before her, remember?”

Matt winced. “Not every—”

“Every.”

“…Fair.”

Foggy ran a hand down his face. “You’re gonna lose her if you don’t speak up.”

Matt didn’t respond.

Because deep down, he knew it was true.

——————————————————————————————————

It started with Foggy texting you.

Which was already suspicious, because Foggy never texted first unless Matt was—

foggy: hey can you swing by the quad after class?

foggy: matt’s planning something

foggy: i’m scared :,)

Now, when someone like Foggy— sweet, unshakeable, usually-down-for-anything Foggy— is scared, you listen. You changed your route and headed toward the quad.

And promptly stopped dead in your tracks.

Because what the hell were you looking at.

Matt Murdock stood on a bench.

On a goddamn bench. In broad daylight. Holding what looked like a beat-up portable speaker above his head like he was channelling John Cusack in Say Anything.

Button-down rolled to the elbows. Hair tousled like it’d been run through about seven too many times. Foggy was standing off to the side looking like he was actively regretting every life decision that brought him here.

“Oh no,” you whispered. “Oh no.”

A group of students was already watching, phones half-raised. Matt didn’t seem to care.

You watched, frozen, as he raised a hand and cleared his throat. Actually cleared his throat. Like he was about to deliver a valedictorian speech. You saw Foggy mutter don’t do it, like a prayer.

Matt did it anyway.

“I, uh… I know this is weird,” he began, voice carrying over the quad, “but I have something to say. Something important.”

The crowd murmured. A few giggles. One guy yelled “Murdock, you proposing?” which earned a sharp shut up from someone else. Foggy, probably.

Matt ignored it. His face was dead serious. “There’s someone I’ve been an idiot about. Someone smart and stubborn and too good to waste time on someone like me. But she did anyway. She does. And if she’s here—” his head turned slightly “— I want her to know I’m sorry. And that I like her. A lot.”

You blinked.

Foggy made frantic eye contact with you from the sidelines and mouthed stop him.

But you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Matt continued. “I was scared, okay? I thought I’d ruin it. Ruin her. But then I realized I’d rather screw up trying to be with her than let her go without even trying. So, (Y/N),” he called, voice way too confident for a man committing this level of social suicide. “This one’s for you.”

A soft click, followed by the unmistakable synthy intro of Truly Madly Deeply by Savage Garden.

Savage. Fucking. Garden.

You clapped a hand over your mouth.

Someone nearby went “What is happening?”

Matt? he looked hopeful.

And you— stupid, stunned, wildly endeared— were just about to take a step forward when—

Cue the sprinkler system turning on.

Every. Single. Sprinkler.

They sputtered, then blasted to life across the quad like a synchronized ambush. A collective scream rose as people scrambled away, books and phones held over heads.

Matt? Got hit square in the chest, earning a strained Jesus from him.

Foggy somewhere in the periphery muttering “I told him” like a man in mourning.

You? Soaked. Wide-eyed. Laughing.

You actually had to cover your mouth, you were laughing so hard.

Matt stepped down, water dripping from his sleeves. He looked around like he was being personally smitten by the gods. It was like the universe waited for maximum dramatic tension just to drop the punchline.

The song cut out with a strangled sputter as the speaker died a wet, heroic death. Students screamed. Matt cursed under his breath as he was immediately soaked. Foggy, who had clearly seen this coming, was already power-walking toward the nearest tree, muttering “I’m too pretty for this.”

You stood there in shock as water poured down on everyone.

And then— you burst out laughing.

You couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop it. You doubled over, drenched, laughing so hard it echoed louder than the chaos around you.

Matt stood on the bench, blinking water from his lashes, the speaker dangling uselessly from one hand. He looked like a wet, confused puppy. A hot wet confused puppy. Weird analogy. But still.

You pushed your hair from your eyes and walked over, completely soaked.

“This was your grand romantic gesture?” you asked between giggles.

He ran a hand down his face, sopping. “It was supposed to be better.”

You looked up at him, the pathetic speaker still crackling faintly in his grip. “It was absolutely ridiculous.”

A pause.

You smiled. “It was perfect.”

Foggy squelched up behind you both. “Okay, you’ve both had your romcom moment, can I go home now? My socks are... squishy.”

Matt turned to him, still trying to catch his breath. “Thanks for… whatever part you played in this.”

“I want that thank you in writing,” Foggy muttered. “And a refund for emotional distress.”

You turned back to Matt.

“Do I get to keep the boombox?”

He grinned. “It’s mostly water now. But sure.”

You took a slow step closer. “So… boyfriend material yet?”

He reached out— careful, gentle— and brushed a piece of wet hair behind your ear. “Getting there.”

And then you kissed him.

In the middle of the quad. Soaked to the bone. Surrounded by students who definitely started applauding and whistling, because of course they did.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Foggy just shook his head.

“Seriously. I hate you both.”

You smiled at him. “Love you too, Fog.”

And Matt?

Well, he didn’t run.

Not this time.

a/n: alright so the fic took a detour from what i had originally planned, it was going to be angst, reader was going to be fwb with matt, and well it's a whole thing, a lot of changes happened but i didn't change the title because well i got attached. i know it doesn't really make sense now with how the story turned out, but i'm leaving it in the story anyway, hope you liked it!

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writingdumpster · 1 year ago

Text

first impressions

pairing: Matt Murdock x reader (no pronouns used)

warnings: none I think

summary: i wrote this purely bc i know matt murdock is excellent at meeting people’s mothers. after impressing your parents matt gets to thinking about his future.

word count: 1.6k

“I’m nervous.” You sat next to Matt in the restaurant he had chosen for the evening. It was fancy. There was a pianist in one corner of the room and linen tablecloths. It was nicer than the hole-in-the-wall joints that you and Matt usually preferred. He wanted to impress your parents though, so he had made a reservation at a swanky restaurant in midtown Manhattan.

Matt was in his court suit and you had donned the blue silk dress he bought for your anniversary. It was by far your favorite dress. Beyond being a treasured gift, it fit you perfectly and the fabric always felt soft against your skin. Karen had helped Matt pick it out, but she had told you that all she did was describe the dresses and that he had completely ignored her opinions. She had strongly recommended a yellow dress but he had refused her suggestions, insisting you would like the one he picked better. Never having seen the yellow one, you knew he was right. If he picked it, you loved it. You would have him choose between options you put out when you got dressed in the mornings by describing them to him and he always had you match his tie to the rest of his outfit.

“It’s going to be fine,” Matt said and kissed your temple.

“I only ever introduced Caleb to my parents,” you told him, not that you hadn’t said it before. Matt knew that Caleb was not someone you had pleasant memories of. He had heard the stories from you and he was the one who helped you get over many of the fears that Caleb had struck into you. Matt was remembering those stories while he heard in your heartbeat how nervous you were.

“You know I’m not like Caleb,” Matt reminded you.

“I know, Matt. I just…this is a big deal for me,” you said.

“It’s a big deal for me too, sweetheart,” Matt told you. “It’s just an exciting big deal for me.” You inhaled deeply. Matt smiled. “You have nothing to worry about. Moms always like me, angel. It’ll be great,” he assured you.

“All women like you,” you said. Matt laughed lightly.

“Then that will include your mom, won’t it?” He asked rhetorically. He gave you a light peck as he tangled his fingers with yours beneath the table. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he cooed. You sighed.

“You’re right. I know they’re going to love you. I just…” You hesitated.

“Caleb was a mistake and you think it’s bad luck,” Matt said, always knowing what you were thinking.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“This isn’t a mistake, sweetheart. I promise. It’s just the next step,” he told you. You nodded and Matt gave your hand a squeeze. You looked up at the doorway to the restaurant.

“They’re here,” you said. You rose from the table and greeted your mom and dad with hugs. Matt was standing by your side with a charming smile across his face.

“Hello, Mrs. y/l/n,” Matt greeted with a smile. Your mom held her arms out to Matt and pulled him into a hug. He returned it kindly.

“Oh, please, call me y/m/n,” your mom said. “Y/N has told us so much about you. I think we can be on a first name basis,” your mom said. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as your mom told Matt how you spoke about him. Matt simply turned to you and smiled. He loved that you told your parents about him. He wished he could tell his dad all about you. Your father held out his hand for Matt to shake. Matt stayed still, not wanting to give up his powers. You took Matt’s hand and pulled it to where your father’s hand was waiting.

“Oh, sorry about that,” your dad said in embarrassment as he shook Matt’s hand. Matt chuckled lightly.

“That’s alright, sir. Took y/n months to stop answering me with nods,” Matt joked.

“It was not months,” you said sharply.

“You still do it sometimes,” Matt teased. You pursed your lips, biting back the comment about how you knew he could tell. The four of you sat down, Matt pulling out your mother’s chair for her before doing the same for you and taking his seat.

Matt was right about mothers loving him. He charmed your mom with his dry sense of humor and enchanting smile. He won your dad’s approval when he mentioned he owned his own law firm. Your father didn’t need to know that Nelson and Murdock was nearly always on the edge of bankruptcy. Your parents told Matt stories about you from your childhood, despite your protests that they were too embarrassing. Matt loved the stories. All he could do was smile at you. The night was perfect. Matt was perfect. Your father refused Matt’s attempt to pay for the meal before the four of you left. You said your goodbyes in front of the restaurant before getting into different cabs and going back home. Matt’s hand was resting innocently on your leg while the two of you sat in the back of the cab.

“I told you it was going to be fine,” Matt teased you. You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, you were right, Murdock,” you agreed. Matt chuckled.

“Doesn’t happen that often. I have to brag when it does,” he said. The cab pulled up outside of your apartment and the two of you got out. You made your way up the stairs and walked through the sliding door. The glow of the billboard outside of your window was blue. A new advertiser had taken over a few weeks earlier and the red light that usually filled the room had been replaced with a blue light, making it seem like your apartment was bathed in moonlight. You were looking through the mail that you had collected on your way up.

You realized you didn’t know where Matt went when music started playing. You smiled to yourself as you tossed away the junk mail. Suddenly you felt hands on your hips as Matt pulled you away from the counter. He spun you around and moved one of his hands to the small of your back. The other went to cup your hand in his. You giggled before moving to wrap your free arm around his shoulders, fingers tangling in the hairs at the nape of his neck as the two of you began swaying back and forth. Matt loosened his hold on your waist and moved to let you spin beneath his arm before pulling you back into his body and dipping you.

When Matt pulled you back upright you leaned up on your toes to press a kiss to his lips. Matt smiled against your lips. You stared into his eyes when you leaned away. His eyes were so beautiful. You never cared that his eyes didn’t see you the way yours saw him. He saw you in so many other ways.

“You really impressed them,” you said as you leaned closer to Matt, tucking your head against his neck.

“I told you moms like me,” Matt said.

“My dad liked you too though,” you said.

“Yeah,” Matt agreed. “We just can’t let him visit my office. He won’t be impressed anymore.” You chuckled.

“I certainly hope he won’t ever need a lawyer,” you said.

“If you hadn’t needed a lawyer we never would have met,” Matt reminded you.

“Yes, and that worked out very well,” you agreed. “But when we tell our kids how we met I think we should make something up.” Matt beamed.

“Our kids?” He asked. Your heart dropped for a moment and your face went blank.

“I mean, umm…” You started stuttering.

“We’ll have to get married first,” Matt interjected before you could start backpedaling. Your panic turned to excitement. You grinned.

“You obviously have my parents' approval now,” you said. Matt smiled.

“And you’ve certainly gotten Foggy’s approval,” Matt replied.

“Foggy likes me better than you,” you said with a laugh.

“Yes, I know,” Matt said flatly. “He’s very clear about that.” You held back your giggles.

“If you came into the office with cookies instead of bruises like me he might like you more,” you joked.

“I do bring in cookies,” he grumbled.

“Yes, but Foggy knows I made them,” you said. Matt sighed.

“He wouldn’t like me at all if I brought in cookies that I made,” he said. You giggled at the memory of Matt trying to make your birthday cake and causing the building to evacuate after setting off the smoke alarm.

“When we have kids I bet he’ll like them better than both of us,” you said. Matt smiled.

“That’s alright. We can use him as a babysitter that way,” he said.

“Maybe if Karen’s there too,” you said. Matt chuckled.

“You don’t trust Foggy with our kids?” He asked.

“Matty, you have told me far too many stories about you dragging Foggy back to your dorm after a frat party for me to trust Foggy with our kids,” you said. “He will most certainly let one of them do something stupid.”

“And you think I won’t?” Matt asked.

“You won’t let them do something stupid, you’ll do it for them,” you said. Matt spun you around in his arms once more as the song came to an end. He kissed your forehead when he pulled you back against him. Matt’s heart was full at the way the two of you were so casually talking about your kids. He hoped it wouldn’t be long till they were real. He knew what he wanted. He didn’t want to wait for it anymore. There wasn’t anything stopping him now.

“You want to go ring shopping tomorrow?”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock x gn!reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader fluff #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock imagines #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #charlie cox x reader

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