#roscoe sweeney

[comicwaren]

From Avengers Vol. 9 #011, “A Grand Tradition”

Art by Ivan Fiorelli and Federico Blee

Written by Jed MacKay

[schaeder]

Söndagsserien med Buz Sawyer

Buz Sawyer (som på svenska ofta fick heta Buzz Cooper) var en amerikansk äventyrsserie som gick på vardagarna i dagspress. Men det fanns också en söndagsserie, som var en skämtserie, eller humoristisk äventyrsserie. Och serien på vardagar och söndagar var alltid olika, utom en gång, 1946-47, när söndagsserien med Buz Sawyer hade integrerat samma äventyr som dagsstripparna. Ett urval källor Ett…

[justdealingwithsomeissues]

an incredibly well done series of panels showing that moment that would cost Jack everything, when he refuses to take a dive...

[that1fangirrl]

Make her opposite of Elektra I think it would be interesting maybe like she was in love with Matt but he was in love with Elektra a love triangle🤧

That's a good idea. I could definitely work with it. one triangle is super interesting. Especially if he doesn't realize it until later on.

I keep having this idea that Elektra manipulates her sister too. maybe they went around killing people or something during that time. maybe she even realizes after awhile, tries to warn Matt but he's too entranced by Elektra to listen. The whole Roscoe Sweeney thing happened and he tries calling her about it and telling her she was right, but she's already cut him off. and then they see each other after the 10 years or whatever.

How does that sound so far? I'm definitely going with the polar opposite sister and love triangle idea.

[usaigi]

Mexican Matt Murdock Headcannons

Yay my meta was well received thank y'all. Here are some hc as a treat :)

Jacobo "Jack" Murdock is from Monterrey 🤠🇲🇽 Super Norteño, he sounds like a cowboy. Has the thickest accent, it embarrass Matt so much

Jack never went to high school and tells Matt to copy how the people on TV talk. They speak "proper" Spanish.

Dad's great great great... granddad was an Irish soldier in the Saint Patrick's Battalion. Hence "Murdock"

He was boxing in Mexico when he met Roscoe Sweeney. Sweeney promised he'd sponsor Jack's work visa and help him immigrate to the US

Sweeney never followed through with the sponsorship. He'll get around to it, don't worry. But as long as Jack's undocumented, he can't box for other promoters/organizers

He would go back to Mexico but he's making more money here than he could back home. Plus he met someone.

Margarita "Maggie" was training to be a nun until she saw him

Baby Mateo Murdock takes after her. He has her eyes, red hair, and pale skin Maggie worries will burn in the sun.

(TW Intrusive thoughts/Post Partrum Psychosis) Maggie worries a lot. About Matty choking on his blanket, about SIDS, about how she betrayed God, about how her child carries her sin, about how the devil possessed her husband, how maybe she should borrow Mario's car with Matty in the back seat so she can drive them off a bridge so at least one of them gets the change to go to Heaven

She nearly kills him.

Jack calls Father Lantom and their marriage is annulled. Maggie leaves to get help and doesn't come back.

Jack still misses her. Matt never knows.

So many nicknames: Matty, Canelo (Cinnamon), Chiltepin (Small Peper), Rojo (Red), Tomatillo (Tomato), Chapulín Colorado, Diablito (little devil), Irlandés (Irish. Later takes a 23andme and finds out he's only 5% Irish)

Jack doesn't speak a lot of English. Matt becomes his personal translator by 1st grade

After the accident, Matt even has to translate what the nurse says for his dad. There's an interpreter when the doctors need to talk to his dad. It hurt hearing about his diagnosis and treatment from the doctor. It hurts all over hearing the interpreter repeat it to his dad.

Matt feels so guilty he can't help translate documents for his dad anymore.

His dad's funeral is the first time Matt meets his extended family. One of his Tia offers to take him in but that would mean leaving New York/the USA and going to Mexico.

He says no. New York is his home.

Sister Maggie is one of the few nuns who speak Spanish. And the only one who will read him poetry. She reads him Jose Marti, Juana Inés de la Cruz, Miguel de Cervantes. Matt likes her. Even if she's strict and doesn't tolerate his sass.

Nina Rosario from In The Heights Kinnie

Almost cried the first time he heard "Breathe," no song has even spoken to him more

NINA: They are all counting on me to succeed I am the one who made it out The one who always made the grade But maybe I should've just stayed home... When I was a child I stayed wide awake, climbed to the highest place, on every fire escape, restless to climb .... I got every scholarship Saved every dollar The first to go to college

Takes a 3000-level Spanish for Elektra. Should have thought this through, Elektra speaks it with an Ethpañol accent. Cringe.

But the class is interesting. So he takes another. And another. And soon enough he has enough credits for a Spanish language and literature major.

Eavesdrops on a lot of conversations. Both because no one assumes he knows Spanish and because of his senses

Foggy: Do you have health insurance?

Matt: of course *pulls out his Vick's Vaporub*

Can't eat spicy food. This face turns as red as his hair :( The other Defenders/HFH tease him for this

Dislikes Spanglish because text to speech/screenreaders don’t recognize it

Calls La Virgen de Guadalupe Mom

Drinks Corona :D

[booksapphic]

Toy rosaries? 👀

I’m on mobile so sorry about the formatting in advance but —

YES Toy Rosaries by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup is a fic based around if Jack had lived, and Roscoe Sweeney had taken Matt instead. It’s legitimately everything to me—it’s a close third person perspective, and the way that the author writes Jack’s narration is just chefs kiss. This author KNOWS how to write tension in a way that makes me drool—Matt is present in the story, but not necessarily to Jack’s knowledge. It’s like a perfect “undead haunting of the narrative” if that makes sense. Everyone is so wonderfully in character, and there’s the Fogwell guys, and Maggie, and Father Lantom, and even a Brett Mahoney cameo. I don’t want to give to much away of the actual plot, besides it’s Jack trying to find Matt some 15 years after he was taken after getting out of jail for killing Roscoe Sweeney. It follows kind of ish along the plot of Daredevil Season 1. The focus here is on Jack, much more than Matt, but that’s part of what makes it so delicious is what feels like a super authentic look into the life and thoughts and relationships of someone we only got a glimpse of in the show.

Again, the tension is just off the charts—Matt is there. Matt knows this is his father. He knows his father is searching for him. Jack doesn’t know this is Matt. GOD it’s… the exact emotion of the post that you saw that prompted this ask lmao. If you haven’t yet, GO READ IT!!!!

full disclosure tho, it’s unfinished and the author hasn’t uploaded since January. On tumblr they said they plan to complete it, but we still have two chapters to go and again it makes me………… unwell waiting for it

EDIT: I mentioned that Maggie is also in this and I want to make clear there’s a scene where it’s just Matt, Maggie, Jack, and Father Lantom. In that scene, it’s only Father Lantom who holds all the cards in understanding exactly who is in that room. But it’s told from Jack’s POV but the writing is SO FUCKING GOOD so you can tell that Father Lantom understands and is trying to act accordingly, even tho no one else does. It, again, makes me want to bite something

[outshinethestars]

Five Times Matt Murdock Wanted to Die (and One Time he Didn’t)

1.

It snuck up on him at first.  You don’t understand these things when you’re a kid, or maybe it’s just that you don’t understand them until you do, until the amorphous thought coalesces into something solid, and once it is solid it’s there, ready to be picked up again whenever you want it.  Matt didn’t know he wanted to die at first, after the accident, and then after his dad.  He just caught himself thinking.  He thought about hell and he thought about heaven.  He wondered if hell could be worse than this, his world of pain and confusion and sensory chaos, and he wondered how that was possible, and what it was like.  He wondered if anyone really actually believed in heaven and that they were going there, and if they did, really actually believed in it, how any of those people were still alive.  

It wasn’t until after Stick that it came to a head.  After Stick left Matt felt torn open, pulled inside out, so that all of his soft bits were exposed and cold.  He thought about Stick saying he was too soft, that he’d never survive, and he thought why should I care?   And he thought about his dad who was dead, and he thought about his mother who left before he could remember, and he figured that there wasn’t anyone who’d be worse off without him.  And then he thought it for the first time out loud in his head.  I wish I were dead.  I want to die.

And then he just sat there for a long while with his knees folded up tight against his chest, and let himself be empty and turned inside out and cold, and mostly felt nothing at all, until Sister Agatha came and told him that St. Agnes’s didn’t suffer layabouts, even if they were blind.  So then Matt went with her and put Stick’s training to good use by changing diapers without passing out from the smell, and he tried not to think about death for a while.  It didn’t seem like an appropriate thing to think around babies.

2.

The first and, depending on how you count it, only time Matt actually tried to kill himself he was sixteen.  There wasn’t any sort of trigger, no one thing.

Living is hard, is all.  Matt got tired.

It didn’t matter, though, Matt tried but it didn’t work.  (Sister Maggie found him.  He doesn’t remember much from right after, but he remembers her heart pounding like it was about to come out of her chest, remembers how panicked she sounded, and he remembers wondering absently why she cared.)

Afterward, Matt didn’t die, and he hated how freaked out everyone was.  Matt just tried to ignore everyone and focused on applying to colleges and applying for scholarships.  And in the end he got accepted to college, and he got his scholarships, and the whole trying to kill himself thing wasn’t a big deal really.

3.

After Elektra it was bad, the worst it’d ever been.  When he was with her he was running high all the time, full steam ahead, no looking where you’re going or what you might crash into.  And then, inevitably, he crashed, inevitably, Elektra left.  He felt like he was dead already, like he could suddenly feel all countless tons of air pressing down on him, like the darkness had finally swallowed him up.

He didn’t think about ending it, though, because if he’d given up on valuing human life he’d have to kill Roscoe Sweeney first, and he didn’t have the energy.  He didn’t have the energy for anything.

But Foggy was there.  Foggy was there, kindly bullying him to get out of bed, to shower, to eat something.  Before long he was getting Matt to class, getting him to talk to his professors, managing, somehow, to help Matt salvage his grades.  Matt made it through that time, by some miracle.  But, well, thank God for Foggy Nelson.

4.

The only thing that saved him after Foggy found Daredevil lying in a pool of his own blood, after Foggy left, was that he could feel every one of the stitches Claire had put in him, and it seemed rude to kill himself after she had already put so much work into keeping him alive.

5.

First, to give some background (let’s call it 4.5) when Matt stayed under Midland Circle it wasn’t on purpose, he didn’t do it because he wanted to die, he did it for Elektra.  He did it because he wanted to save her, because he had to try, and yes, objectively he knew there wasn’t much hope of that succeeding, but when had that ever stopped him before?  He did it to save Elektra, and barring that, he did it so she wouldn’t have to die alone.  He didn’t do it because he wanted to die.  But then, as it was happening, all he felt was relief.

He didn’t save Elektra.  He didn’t even die with her.

He was some kind of cosmic joke, broken beyond usefulness, cursed to live on past the end of his own tragedy.

He hurt, his back and his hip, and he couldn’t even stand up right, couldn’t even fight, couldn’t hear for shit, couldn’t smell.  He wasn’t even scared, the prospect of living the rest of his life like this was horrifying, but he didn’t even have it in him to be scared anymore.  He was done.

He was alive and fucking furious about it.  It wasn’t just that he wanted to be dead, wasn’t just that he wished he was.  He wanted to die with a burning sense of injustice, wanted to spit in God’s face and ask Him why, why the fuck did He make Matt Murdock, why did He make him only so He could break him over and over.  Hell, why’d He make the whole damn world if it was only to watch it burn and laugh.

He was scared anyway, though, when he knelt in the street with the metal pipe poised over his head, and he asked forgiveness anyway.

God did not forgive him, not for that particular sin.  He granted him grace instead, in the form of sirens loud enough even for Matt’s fucked up ears to pick up, if only too late.  Grace was a thing far more difficult for him to accept.

+1.

Matt’s new office has a window.  Matt had objected when they chose the place, but all the rooms in the new office have windows, and Foggy insisted that their clients would appreciate it.

Now though, the sunlight is pouring in warm and kind, and Matt tilts his face towards it.  He feels the warmth of it seeping into him, like calm drenching his soul, and the window isn’t wasted on him at all.  

Karen is humming softly to herself one room over, and Foggy is tapping his foot to a separate rhythm in his own office, but Matt imagines there is a harmony between them anyway.

It isn’t an easy matter, living.  It isn’t something you can argue into yourself or decide.  Some days are better than others, some moments easier to hold on to.  

But right now the sunlight is warm.  Karen is humming, Foggy has started playing broadway tunes again, music ringing out tinnily through his headphones.  Some kids a block over are playing on the sidewalk, yelling and laughing.

It’s not a loud feeling, happiness, quieter than despair.  Quiet, like sunshine and the heartbeats of his friends surrounding him.  Quiet, with the threat of being ephemeral.  There’s a reassuring certainty to the abyss, an eternity that makes it easier to live in.  But no one ever said living was easy, no one ever asked it to be.  Murdocks know how to do things the hard way, always have.

Some days are better than others, some moments easier to grasp, sometimes the warmth is easier to feel than others.

But in this moment, Matt is full up with gratefulness for being alive.

[the-l-spacer]

lmao i found a snipped of an idea i had where foggy has to pick up matt post roscoe sweeney incident

[constantineinhell]

[daresplaining]

Have people forgotten that Roscoe Sweeney (the guy who killed Jack Murdock) is still alive and kicking? He is supposed to be imprisoned somewhere, but he still knows a lot about Matt. Like the fact that Matt doesn't really need a stick to walk, that Matt's a good fighter, and even has a connection to Elektra. And Roscoe's name has to be all over those files Fisk has on Matt...

    This is a great point, and we agree that it’s possible he could come back as a key source for Fisk. If we were to put money on it, we’d guess that either Elektra or Stick killed him after Matt’s failed test, just to take him out of the picture. He was a bad guy, an inconvenience, someone who hurt Matt, and he’d already been beaten half to death and seen things he shouldn’t have. What would be the point of keeping him alive? But barring any actual confirmation of this, we can assume that he– or his information, anyway– might factor into Season 3. That would be really interesting. 

[dracox-serdriel]

Daredevil/Mattelektra

Okay, back in college when Elektra was trying to tempt Matt to the dark side, she hunted down Roscoe Sweeney.

I understand that the facts are overshadowed (if not overlooked) because Elektra brings him to Sweeney’s house under false pretenses and encourages him to kill the man. (She’s apparently following Stick’s plan, which he thinks will result in Matt joining the Chaste. To be completely honest, I’m not sure how that makes any kind of sense. But let’s just go with it for now...)

Elektra hunted down the man who murdered Matt’s father. And when he refused to kill him, she walked away and left Sweeney alive--which is what he wanted.

Nobody on the show has said this out loud. Matt hasn’t even acknowledged it. That doesn’t change the fact that Elektra helped Matt get justice for his father’s murder.

[amberlynnmurdock]

Library Series (Pt. 20)

Pairing: College!Matt Murdock x Reader 

Summary: You finally get the word on your article. Matt isn’t picking up your calls. 

Genre: FLUFF!!!! light angst 

A/N: HERE IT IS TUMBLR WORLD a new update! Thank you all for sticking around for this story and if you are just discovering my fic, welcome! I hope you enjoy this chapter :) 

Archive of our Own Link 

You were beside yourself sitting in your dorm.

The very first thing you checked after coming back from the library was your email. Thinking about Matt’s father was too much; it was making you sad. And you didn’t have Matt at your beck and call to talk to. So instead, you decided to focus on things you can control and see what was going on with your article.

At the top of your inbox was an email from the Editor-in-Chief of the Columbia Daily Spectator. You paused in your movements before clicking the email open.

The subject of the email read: PERMISSION TO PUBLISH - TIME SENSITIVE.

Dear ___,

Thank you for your article submission. It is wonderfully written and contains a lot of exclusive information not even the New York Times has. We would love to publish this article with your permission. This is a front-page news article. Please come by the staff room Monday at 10 am, or whenever your last class is. I want to offer you a position on the board.

Have a great weekend.

Regards,

Joey Brennan

Editor-in-Chief

You squeal with excitement and cover your mouth. Getting your article published in the Columbia Daily Spectator was all you needed for a shoe in a future in journalism. You can’t stop smiling as you frantically reply to Joey’s email.

Dear Joey,

Thank YOU for considering my article. Of course, I would love for it to be published. Please do! I will be there Monday at 10 am. Looking forward to meeting the staff.

Sincerely,

___

You took a deep breath as you hit send. You closed your eyes and smiled. Everything was falling into place.

You pick up your phone and dial Matt’s number first. There was so much you wanted to talk to him about, from your article to finding out about Neil and Roscoe Sweeney.

After a few rings, the call goes to voicemail. Thinking nothing of it, you call Marci instead.

“Hey babes,” Marci answers, “I’m at dinner with Foggy-bear.”

“MY ARTICLE IS GOING TO BE FRONT-PAGE NEWS FOR THE COLUMBIA DAILY SPECTATOR!!!”

Marci screams on the phone. In the background, you hear Foggy panic thinking something serious has happened. Technically, something serious has!

“AHH! I’m not surprised, though. You worked hard on that thing. Did you tell Matt?”

“Matt didn’t answer, I’ll reach him soon, though. Enjoy dinner with Foggy and tell him I said hello.”

“I will babe. Hey after dinner me, you, Foggy, and Matt should hang out on the rooftop of the dorm and celebrate your big debut.”

You smile, the thought of the four of you hanging out bringing you joy. You hoped and wished there’d be more before winter break came. “I’d love that.”

“Talk to you later.”

Scrolling through your contacts, you find Camila’s number and call her.

“Hello?”

“Guess what Camila…”

“YOUR ARTICLE IS GOING TO BE PUBLISHED?”

“YES!”

Camila was ecstatic on the phone, and her reaction to the story being published was the most important to you for many reasons. This was her story, not just yours or a story on crime in New York.

It was more than that. It was the beginning of a journey of taking down these people one article at a time. It was the beginning of holding Neil and Roscoe Sweeney accountable after all these years.

The only person left to call was Matt, perhaps the second most important person to hear from, and he still wasn’t picking up his phone. It’s his day off. Could he be sleeping?

~

Cold, hard cement.

Tiny pebbles digging into what was once soft skin, skin kissed by your lips. Ragged, ruined, bleeding.

Matt gets back up from being knocked down and swings at the robber. The robber stumbles backward and lunges for Matt again. Matt dodges the man and grabs his arm, twisting it around his back and breaking it.

The shop owner of the store that was just robbed comes running around the corner.

“I called the cops! They’re coming!” His thick New York accent is loud.

Cold sweat sticks to Matt’s shirt. He can hear the cop cars approaching from two miles away.

He runs off.

~

Despite the good news about your article getting published, something was tugging on the back of your mind all day. Matt hasn’t responded to any of your calls or messages. Your initial feeling is that you did something wrong, but you couldn’t think of anything that you may have said to him recently that could have made him upset. Why was he ignoring you? Has he even reached out to Foggy?

Whatever it was, you were going to set some boundaries with Matt. Since this was only the beginning of your relationship with Matt, you weren’t going to let yourself get too upset. You’ll just simply tell him… responses are fucking important.

If it was something simple, worrying and stressing was NOT worth it. You knew this.

Hopefully, you’d see him tonight. You know there will be alcohol when you get to Foggy’s dorm with Marci, so you decided to switch up your outfit and wear something… different.

You blushed… you felt bad thinking Matt wouldn’t be able to see what you decided to wear, which was a cropped black sweater and leggings. But the outfit made you feel sexy and that’s all that mattered.  

You spritzed your favorite perfume on about 15 times all over your body and threw your jacket on to brave the cold on the way to Foggy and Matt’s dorm. You texted Marci: “be there soon. Still no message from Matt. :(.”

You hated walking the campus at night alone. There was always something going on, whether a stupid party or a bunch of kids just running around for no damn reason. The smell of marijuana was faint in the air as you passed the freshmen dorm building.

Although the campus was suspicious sometimes, you couldn’t help but admire the beauty it did have. Twinkling lights were thrown on the trees and it gave Columbia University a charming, warm look. The paths to all the dorm buildings and classes were woven together with gardens to fill the grass spaces. Soon enough, all of this would be covered in snow… or, you hoped it would be.

“Hey, you,” a confident yet demanding voice caught hold of your attention. You abruptly stopped in your tracks to follow the sound of the voice, which was now walking over to you.

You can’t help but roll your eyes and sigh.

“Hi,” you reply to Tristan as his smooth skin glistens in the dim lighting outside. His dirty blonde hair was sticking to his forehead–he must’ve just been working out. Perhaps if Tristan wasn’t such an asshole, you might find him attractive.

“Don’t be too excited to see me, ___,” Tristan smirks.

“Can I help you?” You ask in a polite voice. You didn’t want trouble tonight. You weren’t going to put up a fight. Guys like Tristan only need one thing to be satisfied: attention. No matter genuine or not. Just to get him away, you might play along… but at his expense and so you and Marci can laugh about it later. Loser. You can hear her voice now.

“Hey, hey,” he says in a cooing voice, “I just want to say hello. I haven’t seen you since the party last week.” He smiles. Even his teeth are perfectly white. For some reason, that annoyed you.

“There’s a reason for that,” you quip. “I don’t want to see you. I literally don’t even know you, other than that you’re in a frat and you’re annoying.”

“Aren’t journalists supposed to keep their opinions to themself?” Tristan squints his eyes.

“I’m off the record,” you fire back. What the fuck was his problem… or interest, with you?

He holds his serious gaze with you for a minute and then bursts out laughing. He places a hand on your shoulder which you immediately shrug off in disgust.

“I’m kidding, ___,” he calls you by your last name. No respect. “I honestly just wanted to say hello and apologize for how I acted when you came to get your friend that night.”

The tone of his voice softens and for a moment, you think he is telling the truth and apologizing to you. You’re not sure if you should trust him, but the look in his eyes and his deviously charming smile almost makes you believe him. Almost. You have a habit of easily giving people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe this was one of those times. Like you said before… all you wanted was peace tonight.

You raise your eyebrows suspiciously but accept his apology. “Well, thank you, I guess. It didn’t keep me up at night, the way you talked to me, but I appreciate the apology now.”

“I also wanted to ask you something,” he starts, tilting his head to the side.

Here it comes.

“Since you’re in my American History class, I was wondering if you wanted to study for the final that’s coming up next week at the library,” he asks you with a smile. You shake your head immediately.

“I already studied for that a few nights ago. It’s just a Gen-Ed class for me, so it’s not a priority for me. Besides, I don’t think Matt would be pleased with the idea of us studying together,” you tell him.

“Matt,” he repeats, “that’s the blind kid you’re dating, right?”

You get defensive at his comment. “Will you stop referring to him as ‘that blind kid’?! His name is Matt Murdock and there’s more to him than that. You have no idea how disrespectful you just sounded.”

“Well first, there’s nothing wrong with a guy and girl hanging out as friends.”

“I’m not your friend.”

He rolls his eyes at your comment, “okay. Understood. Second… fine. His name is Matt Murdock. Whatever. I’ll remember it, though.”

“While you remember that, try to forget me, okay? Have a great night,” you push past him and walk away as fast as you can, but Tristan still catches up and stands in front of you again.

“I can’t forget a face like that, first of all,” Tristan says. “Second, why won’t you just give me a chance? I don’t take no for an answer,” he smirks. His idea of flirting was failing, and he was truly making you uncomfortable. Leave me alone, was all you wanted to scream.

“Tristan,” you start, “I am in a relationship with someone I care about. There are no chances with anyone except him. Please get this through your head. I don’t find you attractive and I don’t like you.” You were being so mean to him and he still was interested in you. Why?!

Tristan could have any girl on this campus, but he can’t have you. You were beginning to think that was triggering for a toxic guy like Tristan. Something about the way he was standing before you felt almost territorial, in a bad way.

“Being in a relationship doesn’t mean anything to anyone on this campus. So many people cheat on their boyfriends and girlfriends because college relationships aren’t serious.”

“I’m not like your frat brothers and sorority girls you hang with. I’m here to actually make a difference with my studies and meet meaningful people. You wouldn’t know because all you do is spend your time partying and only care about being seen by these people. After all, people talk. And you love when they talk about you. We’re not the same. There are no chances for a guy like you, even if I wasn’t with someone already.” If that monologue didn’t get him to leave you alone, you didn’t know what would.

Tristan is silent for a moment, taking in what you just said. After a moment, he purses his lips and shakes his head. “All right, ___. You’ve made your point. I’ll see you in American History, though.” He winks. And he walks off in the opposite direction.

Finally.

Although that encounter was anything but relieving.

~

It’s late in the night, around 9 pm. After Matt stopped that robbery from happening and grabbed his bag and changed at Fogwell’s, he was finally back on campus. Battered and bruised, but all in one piece.

Sometimes, hitting the bag wasn’t enough. Matt wasn’t sure if it will ever be enough. His latest decisions are proving him to be right.

Matt was wrestling with this thought in his head on the entire bus ride back. His urge to look after Hell’s Kitchen has only grown over the years, but this time, it’s with a burning passion. It’s a darkness inside he doesn’t think will ever find peace. Maybe this was the reason God made him this way, but the reason felt more like a burden than a blessing. A blessing and a curse–maybe.

He’ll never know for sure, he thinks.

The Catholic guilt washed over him as it always did late at night. It was all-consuming, as were his thoughts. Perhaps a talk with Father Lantom was long overdue. Yeah, he thinks he might make a trip to church tomorrow.

All that mattered to Matt was this: some very bad people need to be stopped. The law takes too long for them. Matt doesn’t waste time.

Besides, Matt hasn’t felt this satisfied in months. The fact of the matter was this: no matter how hard Matt tried, he couldn’t push these feelings away. He can’t go on knowing about so much corruption and not doing anything about it when he’s perfectly capable.

The pavement skids under his shoes. Matt walks slowly down the corridor leading to his dorm, head hanging low, bag draped over his shoulder. He’s in pain, but not too much. All he can think of now is a hot shower and sleep.

The bandage on his cheekbone falls to the ground, the same moment Matt realizes his phone has been buzzing in his bag. Just as he is about to pick up his phone for the first time in hours, someone approaches him from behind.

Matt’s on defense mode still. He jumps back and drops his bag until he realizes it’s you. Your lavender and vanilla smell is stronger now–you must’ve sprayed your perfume for something. For him?

He’s intoxicated by your scent, as he usually is. There’s something else burning inside him, besides the guilt. It’s desire.

“Matt?” Your voice hitches in your throat. The sound of your heart beating is pounding in Matt’s ears. You’re worried.

“H-hey, __?” Matt stammers, “I’m sorry I missed your–“

“Are you okay?!” You ask frantically, placing caring hands on both of his shoulders, “Jesus, what happened? Were you attacked?” Despite hearing the concern in your voice, Matt almost melts to your touch. It’s the softest thing he’s felt all day. He finds himself craving more, after a night like he had tonight.

Matt shakes his head, “no, no…” Matt places his hands on your upper arms and gently releases himself from your grip. He slides his hands down the length of your arms and sneaks his hands in yours. He pulls you close. “I’m fine, ___.”

You furrow your brows. You’re shaking in Matt’s hands.

“Where were you? Where’s your cane?” You ask inquisitively. The concern leaves your voice. Instead, suspicion is all Matt hears. Like an alarm going off, Matt immediately perks up and regains composure. He does have an act to play.

“I was… at Fogwell’s. I had the day off and decided to work out. I was just punching bags, that’s all. My cane is in my bag,” Matt explains.

The moment Matt says Fogwell’s, something in your demeanor changes. He notices it as fast he can notice a paper clip dropping on carpet. Silent to everyone else, but loud in his ears. Your hands tense in his, something Matt’s never felt before. You take a deep breath–not in relief, but discomfort. There’s something wrong, Matt thinks.

Now it’s his turn to worry.

“Did the bags punch you back?” You ask in a low voice.

Matt half-smiles, “no, I–I tripped and fell as I walked out. It’s okay, I’ve done that before.”

You bite your lip and study Matt’s face. His grin almost melts your worries away, but you can’t shake the uncanny feeling you got when he mentioned Fogwell’s. It’s been tugging on your mind all day.

“Okay, just–let me know next time. I’ve been trying to reach you for hours,” you tell Matt. You are urgent in your words, demanding almost. Matt isn’t sure if he should feel guilty or flattered for how much you care about him. The thought made him feel selfish immediately. And then guilty.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be more responsive next time,” Matt promises. You lean in and embrace Matt tightly, breathing in his scent. You didn’t care he was sweaty. All you cared about was that he was safe. An extra tight hug is all you can offer him, even after finding out something big about his life.

“I’m… so happy you’re okay,” the words slip out of your mouth.

Matt cocks his head to the side and pulls back. He studies your breathing for a moment. He studies the way you grip his hands a little tighter. “Is there something wrong?”

You look away from him, Matt can tell. Your heart picks up again, but this time it’s not in worry.

You’re about to lie to him.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

Matt holds his gaze on you for moments longer, playing tug of war with the thought of prying or keeping his facade going. He clenches his jaw. Why would you lie to him, especially about something being wrong?

Then again, why would he lie to you?

“I wanted to tell you something all day,” you finally break the silence. “My article will be front-page news.”

In those few words, it almost feels like Matt’s world comes crashing down on him. The words hit him harder than any punch could. The cold sweat hits him again. Neil. The boss. Camila. Your name, out in the public for all of New York City to see. He didn’t care if the Columbia Daily Spectator was just a school paper–CDS was a well-recognized paper and a candidate for students into getting real jobs in real newspapers. With your name out there, everyone will know who you are, including some very bad people. Matt was already thinking of plans to keep you safe, to make sure no one was going to hurt you. The thought seemed impossible but Matt felt that familiar burning passion inside burning even hotter, for your sake.

Maybe he was meant to protect you.

As your boyfriend, he should feel happy and proud of your accomplishment. A normal boyfriend would be whopping and hollering, picking you up and spinning you around this very moment.

Instead, as your boyfriend with a secret life and burdened with more knowledge of the world of crime, Matt, is uneasy. He’s frozen. He’s anticipating what could happen next.

But to close the silence that fills the two of you, because he can tell you’re growing more anxious by his silence, he speaks.

“That’s amazing,” Matt says, “I’m happy for you.”

And in an instant, any sign of doubt or anxiety disappeared from your movements. At that moment, Matt knew he affected you just as much as you affected him. He was important to you. What he said mattered to you. It was strange to Matt in a way, to connect to someone like you. It was like exploring unknown territory for him: scared shitless but curiosity overcomes you so much, you can’t stop walking further and further down the beaten path. The beaten path always leads to something more beautiful.

“Really?!” The sound of your voice was lighter, something Matt wanted to hear more in your voice rather than worry and anxiety… something he thinks he causes you. Realizing this, Matt’s heart grew heavy in his chest.

Matt smiles, “yes, really. I am worried, but yes.”

You sigh and kiss his cheek. “I know it, Matt. Don’t worry, it’s crossed my mind, but I have to focus on what this will do for my future. You know? And maybe a lot of other’s futures, too.”

Matt can’t help but smile. You wanted to help people just like he did but in very different ways. He has to admire that. He does. He admires you, in so many ways. Ever since he first met you in the library–you were always so captivating, and you still are. Matt could be in a stadium full of people and he’d only listen for the sound of your heart.

For months now this semester, Matt has gotten used to the sound of your heartbeat, memorizing the pattern and the way it gets faster only when he’s around you. Only now has he realized the true beauty of your heart; the true beauty of what’s inside you. An ache in him settles as he accepts the fact that he’ll never actually see your beauty. Only hear it. Only feel it. Perhaps… that had to be enough.

Will he ever be enough for you? He wonders.

“I know, sweetheart,” Matt replies. He breathes in your sweet scent and brings you closer by your waist, kissing you softly on your forehead. “Where were you off to just now?”

“Oh!” You exclaim like you snapped out of a trance, “I was actually on my way to meet Foggy and Marci. They wanted to celebrate my article getting published. You’ll come, won’t you?”

Matt laughs, “I have to go back and take a shower anyway but even if that wasn’t the case, I’d still want to.”

You hold out your arm for Matt to take. “I’ll lead us.”

~

Coming back to Matt and Foggy’s dorm, you knew something was going on with Foggy and Marci.

Matt opened the door and the two of you were greeted with loud, drunken hellos and hugs. Foggy kissed Matt on the cheek, and Matt was relieved that Foggy was too drunk to notice the bruises on Matt’s cheekbone. Marci gave Matt a quick hug and gave you an even longer one.

“The reporter of the hour, Ms. ___!” Marci screams with a bottle of champagne in her hand. You laugh and take the bottle. You wrap your lips around the glass and take a swig of the champagne.

Matt raises his eyebrows, smiling at the fun you all are sharing. He takes a quick shower and comes back out to see you’ve caught up with Foggy and Marci’s drinking.

“Matthew, come here,” you call for him, and he reaches out to find your hands to lead him to your warmth. Matthew. He happily sits down next to you in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, crossing his legs. His right knee is touching your left. It feels like a jolt of electricity.

“Now that Matt is FINALLY here…” Marci starts, “we can officially celebrate our girl. A round of applause please,” Marci starts clapping, followed by Foggy and Matt. You look over at Matt and blush, with a smile.

Marci pours everyone a glass of champagne and cheers with their glasses up. You smile and settle back, so you’re leaning against what you assume is Matt’s bed. It felt so good to be surrounded by your friends. It felt like a moment like this was long overdue.

You glance at Matt and see he has joined you in leaning back. You notice his cross necklace is outside of his shirt. It’s something you haven’t seen until now.

“I didn’t know you were religious,” you say to him.

Matt seems to be caught off guard, then realizes what you are referring to. “Oh, uh… yes, I am. Catholic.”

Before you could start your next sentence, Marci calls for your and Matt’s attention.

“We should play some music and play a game with alcohol, of course,” Marci states. Foggy gets up and puts on a record on the player. The opening track to Nevermind by Nirvana starts playing. Matt bursts out laughing.

“Foggy, you’re obsessed with this album. He hasn’t stopped playing it since he scored this vinyl at a store recently,” Matt says.

“And for good reason! It’s one of the best albums of the century,” Foggy exclaims.

“The century, he says,” you repeat. “Okay, Marci. What are we playing?”

“I was thinking we could do truth or dare but that’s no fun… so I came up with something else. It’s pretty much truth or dare, but if you choose truth, you have to take a shot. As long as you do the dare… you’ll be golden,” Marci squints her eyes and smiles.

“I’ll go first!” Foggy raises a finger. “Wait. Who should I pick first?”

“We can go clock-wise,” Marci states.

“Okay, um, ___!” Foggy shouts your name. You smile and perk up.

“Truth or dare?” Foggy asks.

“Hmm… dare,” You reply.

“I dare you to take three shots of this tequila,” Foggy laughs as he pulls the bottle from the mini-fridge.

“I thought dares were supposed to be hard!” You laugh, “give me the bottle.”

Foggy also passes you a shot glass that says “Columbia University” in light blue letters. You pour yourself one shot, then two, then three. And you take them all with no remorse.

Matt raises his eyebrows in pleasant surprise. He hasn’t seen this… rebellious side of you, ever. Not that drinking alcohol was “rebellious” or a big deal but… it was a different side he hasn’t got to know. You’re letting loose. He listens closely to your heartbeat and realizes you are completely relaxed. It might not be just because of the alcohol, but because of the company.

“Wow, taken like a champ,” Foggy says. “Okay, ___. Your turn.”

You turn to Matt and smile, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “Matty. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Matt answers easily.

“I dare you to… brush Foggy’s hair,” you say giggling.

“You dare me as if I haven’t done that before,” Matt laughs.

“Come over here, butterfingers!” Foggy exclaims while handing Matt a brush.

“Hey, can I still take a shot even if I pick a dare?” Matt asks.

“Of course, Mr. Murdock!” Marci says. You hand Matt the bottle of tequila and the shot glass.

After Matt is done brushing Foggy’s hair, you help Matt pour a shot into the glass and watch as he takes it. Something about his mouth touching the spot where yours was on the glass gave you chills.

“Not bad,” Matt says, “but I do prefer whiskey.”

Whiskey. You make a mental note to yourself. He likes whiskey.

“What kind of whiskey?” You accidentally wonder aloud. Matt looks over to you and smiles.

“Macallan,” Matt answers.

“Okay, Matt, your turn,” Marci says.

Matt finds his way next to you again, this time sitting closer than before.

“Marci, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Marci answers, “I’m planning on drinking tonight.”

Marci sips her glass of champagne.

“Okay. What is your favorite thing about Foggy?” Matt asks.

“If I could list them all, we’d be stuck on my turn forever. But, I have to say my favorite thing is how selfless Foggy-bear is and of course, his snuggles are like no other,” Marci answers, looking at Foggy lovingly.

“Aww, thank you, baby,” Foggy and Marci nuzzle their noses. Their love was so sweet. You blush and look away. Your eyes land on Matt, who is smiling to himself as well. His gaze falls to the ground.

“My turn!” Marci says. “Foggy, truth or dare?”

Foggy pretends to think for a moment and then says, “dare.”

“I dare you to give me a kiss,” Marci says.

“That’s too easy!”

Foggy leans in and gives Marci the longest, biggest kiss on her lips. She runs her hand through his blonde locks and pulls away after… 30 seconds. You and Matt are blushing together, laughing to break the silence. You could never be as straightforward as Marci was right now. Unless you took more shots of tequila.

“Alrighty, my turn. ___, truth or dare?” Foggy looks at you and smiles.

“I wanna drink too tonight so, truth.” You take a shot of tequila before Foggy asks his question.

“Wait, wait,” Marci interrupts, “can I just say I am so happy we are finally getting ___ to drink. She has studied and worked so hard this entire semester, not letting herself ONE NIGHT let loose until now. I’m just… so proud of my baby girl!!” Marci shouts, the alcohol hitting her. You laugh.

“Thank you, Marci. It’s only because of the people I’m with tonight,” you say, looking at Matt. Matt feels your gaze and blushes–he can’t help it.

“Okay, okay, umm,” Foggy starts, “___, what was your first impression of Matt?”

“My first impression of Matthew…,” you can feel your words starting to slur so you try your hardest to mask your obvious tipsiness. “It was at the library. I saw him a few times before I mustered the courage to ask to sit next to him one day. Matt, you had this mysterious aura that I was so attracted to. I wanted to get to know you more. And when I did, you were and are the sweetest guy ever. And yet, you’re still a mystery to me in some ways. And my journalist heart absolutely cannot put that to rest.”

Matt looks at you through his red-tinted glasses, not a smile on his face but a look you can’t quite decipher. It’s not a bad look, but a look of longing. A look that says more than any word ever could.

“Thank you, __,” Matt replies. “That’s very sweet.”

There’s only one thing that’s stopping Matt from reaching over your lap and kissing you, and it’s just one more dare.

“Matt, truth or dare?” You ask him.

“Dare,” he replies deeply.

“Sorry, ___,” Marci interrupts, “I know exactly what Matt’s thinking after what you said. Matt, I dare you to give ___ the longest kiss ever.”

And in an instant, Matt drops his glass of champagne and dives toward you, hands first to hold your delicate and beautiful face, as he places his lips on yours. His feelings for you wash over him as he takes both your wrists and holds them to your sides. This only makes you want to grab him even more. His lips brush against your chin before they find your lips again, Matt deepening the kiss. Heat rises between your legs. His hair tickles your forehead. You feel his cross necklace dangling over your heart. After what felt like an eternity, Matt pulls away slowly, the feeling of his lips tingling on yours.

“You’re quite the daredevil, Matt,” is all you can say.

Matt laughs, along with Marci and Foggy. You are flustered by the kiss.

He’s never kissed you like that before. You ache for him to do it again.

~ 

Foggy and Marci fell asleep together on the floor, sprawled with blankets and pillows. They were past the point of moving to the bed. Foggy’s snores were a dead giveaway, and from the way Marci was latched onto Foggy, you know there was no point in waking either of them up.

You fall back into Matt’s bed from leaning over to make sure they were asleep and let out a quiet laugh. Matt is smiling.

“What’s so funny?”

“This whole situation. We are all just drunk off our asses falling asleep on each other,” you giggle.

Matt takes your hand in his and squeezes it, “there’s no other place I’d rather be right now than in this bed with you.”

Your heartbeat speeds up–you’re nervous Foggy or Marci might still be slightly awake and heard what Matt just said to you. You blush.

Matt’s brows furrow. He asks, “Is there something wrong?”

“No,” you quickly say, “God, no. I’m just worried they might still be awake.”

Matt pauses for a moment. “They’re asleep.”

You smile mischievously, “how can you know for sure?”

“By Foggy’s snores,” Matt laughs.

“Okay, then,” you reply, turning your head to face Matt. His gaze is on the ceiling. You loved seeing him without his glasses on. There was something so vulnerable about him right now. “There’s no place I’d rather be than here, too.”

Matt turns to face you, his eyes falling short of your chin. He takes his other hand and places it on the side of your face, caressing your cheekbone. Matt leans in and kisses you gently.

“I am really happy for you about your article,” Matt tells you. “I don’t want you to think differently.”

“I don’t,” you reply, “I believe you, Matthew.”

“I like when you call me by my full name,” Matt admits.

“I’ll only call you Matthew from now on, then. The occasional Matty, too.” You smile.

On Matt’s chest, his cross necklace is peeking out from under his shirt. You were curious about his religious beliefs before but didn’t get to ask him about it.

“You’re Catholic?” You ask again.

Matt seems surprised by your question. He nods, and mindlessly holds the cross between his fingers, playing with it.

“Yes. I know you were curious about it before. I don’t know if you want me to get into it because I’m a little intoxicated and it’s a long story,” Matt chuckles sheepishly. You sit up a little and lean on your elbow, looking down at Matt.

“Tell me,” you demand quietly. You weren’t sure why you were so curious about Matt’s faith. Perhaps it was another mystery you wanted to solve about him. You wanted to know everything there was to know about Matthew Murdock.

“Well, I was born and raised Catholic my whole life. My grandma was a hard ass,” Matt chuckles, “she instilled the fear of God in me when I was a kid. It’s just always been a part of my life. From when I was with my dad, before the accident, going to the orphanage.”

“You grew up in an orphanage?” You ask.

“After my dad passed, yes,” Matt replies. “Saint Agnes Orphanage in Hell’s Kitchen.”

You were silent in your response. You didn’t have the right words to say. You still haven’t told Matt about the newspaper clippings…

“So, catholicism has been a part of my life every waking second since I was a kid. And it still is today. It can be tough, though.”

You sigh, looking at him. He has a slight smile on his face. He knows you’re thinking a lot right now. The silence is everything.

“What is it?” Matt asks.

“What’s so tough about being religious? I wish I was more religious. Not that I’m not… I’m not sure what I am. I definitely believe in God, but I don’t have a specific way of practicing. I kind of just live my life and hope for the best,” you say, “but I want to do more. I would think having religion makes life easier, not tougher.”

Matt raises his eyebrows and smiles. He wishes he had that point of view. No, his situation was much more complicated.

“You think I’m silly,” you say, given his silence.

“No,” Matt answers quickly, “not at all. It’s just more complicated for me,” Matt voices the thoughts he had before.

“How so?” You question.

You weren’t going to let up. You take the cross necklace from his hands and begin to play with it yourself. It’s a sterling silver cross on a matching chain. It’s cold to the touch. You hold the cross between your pointer finger and thumb.

“It’s the guilt, mostly. You navigate life feeling as though your actions, for any situation, are not enough.”

“You’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t,” you say out loud.

Matt smiles, “I guess you can put it that way.”

“But, Matthew,” you enunciate his name, “what do you have to feel guilty about?”

Matt is quiet for a long moment. He takes a deep breath and gently takes the cross from your fingers. He wishes he could tell you. And for that, the guilt settles in him. He’s not sure he ever will be able to tell you, everything. Maybe one day.

“That’s the part I can’t explain, sweetheart,” Matt says in a gentle voice.

Your cheeks heat up, “Okay, Matthew. Well, if it means anything, I’d love to get to know about Catholicism more. If you go to church soon, I want to come.”

Matt leans up and kisses you. “I’d love to take you to the church I grew up in.”

Your face is inches above his, your lips dangerously close to his. Like your facial features are a rosary, Matt traces his fingers over every detail of your face, from the side of your face, over your brow bone, over the bridge of your nose, to gently placing his thumb on top of your lips. You open your mouth to suck on his thumb.

Matt lets out a low hum. You take his thumb from your lips and kiss him.

“I wish we were alone right now,” Matt confesses to you, “I wish, I wish, I wish,” he says like a prayer.

“Well… we can certainly make plans to arrange that, Matthew,” you smile.

He can feel your smile against his lips, and God, does he wish he could see that smile.

“I want to be with you every moment God gives me,” Matt says.

“You mean that?”

“I swear by it,” Matt whispers.

With that, you kiss Matt one more time on his lips, and then his jawline. You tuck your head in the crook of his neck. There’s something else Matt whispers, perhaps it was a real prayer, but you’ve already fallen asleep to make out what it was.

[arixwrites]

Matt Murdock x best friend!reader pt.4

A/N: I had a really cute gif planned out for this part, but I just couldn't resist this one of Matt throwing his cane away and bookin it!!! Omg, it makes me laugh every time. Pls excuse mistakes it's just me and Grammarly editing, and I really wanted to get this out ASAP.

Thoughts are in bold

Word count: 1450

Matt has been pretty much MIA since the New Year’s party

Matt hasn’t been going to classes at all and (from what you hear from Foggy) he spends all day and night with Elektra.

Matt’s bloodied knuckles were still pulsing from the beating he gave Roscoe Sweeney. He was sat atop the roof of a neighboring house to Sweeney’s to make sure that he was taken in by the police, but it was hard to hear anything over the pounding of his heart.

He felt completely betrayed.

Matt had been having so much fun with Elektra these past couple of weeks. He thought he had finally found someone he could be his true self with. However, tonight showed him that he and Elektra were more different than he thought. She had gone too far by bringing him to Roscoe Sweeney tonight. But, he knew their relationship would never be the same once she tried to push him to murder his father’s killer.

Of course, he wanted retribution for his father’s death, but not like that. Who was Matt to decide who lives and who dies? Even Roscoe Sweeney doesn’t deserve that.

Matt felt so stupid for letting himself get wrapped up in Elektra, now that their relationship has ended in such a way. How could he be so stupid to push away from you and Foggy, the best friends anyone could ask for. Matt realized that you two were the ones that knew the real Matthew Murdock. You and Foggy didn’t have to know about his abilities or his fighting skills to know that the real Matt Murdock is not a murderer. Both of you know that Matt is a selfless man who will do anything to help others.

Once Sweeney was being driven away in the back of a police car, Matt knew he had to go and see you. He’s been avoiding you since the New Year’s party, and he felt horrible (this realization making him feel ten times worse). He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to say to you yet. Hell, who knows if you’ll even talk to him with how shitty he’s been treating you these past few weeks, but he really hoped you would because he has a lot he needs to get off his chest.

Elektra left him in the suburbs, so he had to call a cab to get back to the city. Once he heard the first signs of the city, he threw whatever money he had in his pocket at the driver and jumped out of the cab and into the nearest alley. He threw his cane into the piles of garbage on the side of the building (he had more canes back at his dorm so who cares) and began running full speed at the fire escape of the building to gain some momentum. He jumped and grabbed hold of the ladder and quickly climbed his way up the building. Once at the top of the building, he used his abilities to find out where he was in the city and the quickest route to your apartment. He stuck to the rooftops, jumping and diving from one building to the next. He did this because he knew this was the fastest way to you but also because his adrenaline was still running high from his encounter with Roscoe Sweeney. He needed to burn off some steam.

Matt stood outside your door, and he could hear your even breaths coming from your bedroom. He knew you were sleeping, but what he had to say couldn’t wait.

The rational side of him told him that this truly could wait and that he was definitely going to regret the dramatics tomorrow, but with the excitement of Roscoe Sweeney being arrested, he wasn’t listening to his rational side at the moment.

He called your phone, rather than knocked because he didn’t want to disturb your roommate with it being so late at night. On the fourth ring, he heard you groan and grab your phone off of the bedside table.

With a scratchy voice, you answered, ‘Matty? Why are you calling so late? Did something happen?’

Matt chuckled and thought, I can’t even begin to tell you what happened tonight. Instead of telling you what actually happened, Matt responded, ‘Yeah, sorry it’s so late, but nothing happened really. I just really need to talk to you. I’m outside your door.’

‘Oh!’ You quickly sit up straight in your bed, ‘Okay, I’ll be out in a bit. Hold on.’ You frantically try to make yourself somewhat presentable. You put on an oversized hoodie to hide your ratted sleepwear, tame your bedhead, and brush your teeth. Matt couldn’t care less about how you looked. I mean he’s the one who is waking you up at two in the morning, but nonetheless, he waited patiently outside your door (snickering when you stub your toe on your dresser and swear profusely).

You open your apartment door to find Matt leaning up against the wall across from you. You breathlessly greet him, ‘Hey! It’s two in the morning, Matt. What could you possibly need to talk to me about that can’t wait until the sun is out.’

Matt sighs and rests his hands at his hips, ‘I know, I know. It’s just I’ve been thinking… and I want to apologize. I’ve been a real asshole and a real shit friend, so I’m sorry.’

You smirk, ‘Thank you, for finally realizing you’ve been an asshole,’ Matt laughs, ‘But, Matt, I’ve been a shit friend too,’ Matt furrows his eyebrows, so you elaborate, ‘On New Year’s Eve, I kissed you even though I knew you had been seeing Elektra. That was a real bitchy thing for me to do. I’m sorry I put you in that position,’ you look down shamefully and pick at the skin around your nails anxiously.

Matt moves forward and grabs your hands, ‘No, there’s no need for you to apologize. Elektra and I weren’t exactly together, not exclusively, and either way that’s over now. I’m done with Elektra. Anyway, what about you and Danny? I heard that you kiss-’

You quickly interrupt him to set the record straight, ‘No! I did not kiss him, at least not intentionally. He was wasted and forced me into that,’ you roll your eyes and scoff, ‘said he was just getting his New Year’s kiss.’

Matt’s jaw drops, ‘Are you serious?’ Matt was experiencing so many emotions at once. How dare that asshole force himself on you. Danny might be getting a visit one of these nights. That should put him in his place. How awful am I that I’ve been avoiding Y/N over something that was forced on her

You squeeze his hands to bring his attention back to you, ‘Hey, it’s alright. I’m alright. I made it very clear to him that I never wanted to see him again, so we don’t have to worry about him.’ Matt still seemed pissed at Danny, so you tried to change the subject, ‘So, what happened with you and Elektra?’

Matt sighs, ‘It’s a long story, but I finally realized that we are two very different people who want different things. It just wasn’t going to work out.’

It seemed like a touchy subject, so you didn’t pry, ‘I’m really sorry about that, Matt.’

‘It’s okay, really. Being with Elektra made me realize that I already have someone who knows the real me, who understands me. I have you, Y/N.’ he slowly reaches his hand up to softly caress your face. Your breath catches in your throat. This is not how you imagined your night going, but you weren’t complaining. ‘And, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say for a while now, but never caught the right moment, so I’m just going to say it: I don’t regret that night we had sex and I don’t regret our kiss on New Year’s,’ You’re stuck in a stunned silence. Was this really about to happen at two in the morning? Here we go. ‘How about you?’ Matt asks.

You shake your head no, but then remember to respond verbally, ‘No, I don’t regret them either. Not at all.’ Both of you can hardly contain your smiles now that the truth is finally out. ‘So,’ you whisper ‘What now?’

Matt chuckles, ‘Well, I guess this is the part where I ask you if you want to be my girlfriend. So, will you be my girlfriend, Y/N L/N?’

‘Yes, I will be your girlfriend, Matthew Murdock.’ Matt places his other hand on your cheek and pulls you into a searing kiss. A much better kiss than the ones you shared during your one-night stand and on New Year’s Eve because now it was official. You were finally his, and he was finally yours.

When you pull away from the kiss you realize, ‘Hey, where’s your cane?’

Matt chuckles nervously, “About that…”

A/N: This is the end, guys!!! Yay! I am very surprised I finished this lol. I hoped you guys enjoyed it. Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and reblogged! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

I do have one or two more parts that I’m working on set during scenes from season 2 (cuz I love season 2 so much 🥰), but if you guys want to see more of this, whether it be scenes from the show or pre-show stuff, let me know!

Part 5

[justdealingwithsomeissues]

There is gonna be a lot of "did we already know this, or was it just in the DD Zeitgeist and so we assumed it was already known." but this is showing us how Jack fell in with the mob in the first place, having them threaten him and Matt unless he runs protection and collection for them.

[that1fangirrl]

I have another question for the whole Elektra's sister thing. Would you prefer her to be like her sister or a polar opposite. Like I was thinking polar opposites kinda like Mileena and Kitana(weird correlation, but it makes sense). What are we feeling for that?

Also I've been brainstorming. Maybe Matt only knows a little about Elektra's sister from past conversations or something. The two of them meet 10 years after the Roscoe Sweeney incident and he doesn't know. I don't know. But I had another idea were they have met a few times and then after 10 years see each other again for the first time. Tell me what you think.

[ohlovxr]

thinking about getting fucked by matt and elektra on that kitchen counter in roscoe sweeney’s house <33