Matt Murdock Imagine - Tumblr Posts

Marvel Masterlist

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- Secrets & Sleepovers

- ‘tis the damn season

- The Moment I Knew

- Stay, Stay, Stay

- The Last Time

- Catch Me

- Trust Your Senses

- You've Got This

- See You Again

- The Story of Us

- Teardrops on my Guitar

- Last Kiss

- Golden Cage is still a Cage

- Best Lazy Day Ever

- Coldness & Cuddles

- Finding Your Way Back (Part One)

- Finding Your Way Back (Part Two)

- We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together

- Finding Our Way Back

- Innocent

- Timeless

- My Devil, My Shadow

- Again and Again

- Stitches & Shivers

- I'll Always Find You

- Always

- Lucky

- evermore

- Sparks Fly

-  Look How Far We’ve Come

- Safe in Your Arms

- Everyone Deserves A Second Chance

- Love Story

- I Can’t Lose You Again (Part One)

- I Can’t Lose You Again (Part Two)

- I Knew You Were Trouble

- Speak Now

- Nurse Parker Makes Everything Better 

- Medicated 

- Home at Last

- One Life for the Two of Us, Mr Stark

- New Year’s Day

- He Was A Hero

- No Way Home

- I Gotchu

- Not Getting Rid of Me

- The Only Thing I Care About

- No Promises

- What Are Neighbours For?

- I See You in My Dreams

- I’ve Been Waiting For You

- The Terrible Talk

- Moment in Time 

- You Look Like a Museum to Me

- August

- Wherever We Want

- Candy & Cuddles

- Give a Little Whistle 

- Exam Day Stress

- Enchanted To Meet You

- Girls Like You

My Devil, My Shadow

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Prompt - ‘Because losing her would mean losing yourself.'

The first thing Matt took notice of as he walked back into his apartment was the pulsing on the neon from the billboard outside before he focused in on you. He could hear your heartbeat and your breathing both keeping a steady pace that let him know you were asleep. Hearing you shift as the door shut gently, Matt chuckled to himself, no idea how you could fall asleep with the light show outside seeping into his living room.

He hadn’t been gone long either, only stepping out for five minutes to walk Claire down to the street after she had, once again, helped him out. The two of them exchanged words before he headed back up to you.

The Devil and you had crossed paths long ago, first before Fisk had been arrested and since then the two of you teaming up happened regularly enough that a friendship had been formed…ok so maybe Matt wanted more than just a friendship but how could he not? How could he listen to your laugh, a laugh that was able to flip his mood in a matter of seconds, a laugh that felt like a summer's day, how could he listen to you ramble on for hours on stake outs and not fall for you?

He didn’t need to see you to know you were beautiful. Matt didn’t have a mental picture of you in his head, not one like he wanted as he hadn’t had the chance to trail his fingers delicately across your features, the chance to cup your face in his hands, a chance to feel the way you smiled under them. He couldn’t even ask Foggy what you looked like as every picture captured of you showed the suit you wore, like him your face was hidden from the world, the all black fabric helped you blend into the night so the media had, rather creatively, dubbed you Shadow.

Matt remembered the first time you had been written about, how you waved the paper in his face as you told him the name you’d been given.

“Shadow?” You laughed as the two of you sat together on a rooftop, legs dangling over the edge as the sounds of the city passed. “I mean out of all the names they could have chosen, Shadow? A bit on the nose, right?”

“I don’t know,” Matt said, grinning ahead, “It does suit you, I mean now that I think about it you are like my own shadow.”

He was fully prepared for the smack to the chest he received for that one but Matt didn’t need to see you to know you were smiling too.

Tonight had been bad.

Matt hadn’t heard from you for a few days, the two of you had burner phones with only the other's number saved to it. Most nights you found each other in the middle of a fight or perched on a rooftop. After three or so days Matt had begun to worry that you had gotten hurt, surely you would have called him though?

After a bit of digging he finally got a lead, apparently you were investigating a human trafficking ring that had recently popped up in the Kitchen and they didn’t like that you were getting too close.

Nobody had seen you since.

It hadn’t taken Matt long from there to get a location, panic running through him but he pushed it down and focused all his senses on finding you. He couldn’t lose you, not when he had gotten so little time with you. His blood ran cold at the thought of finding you dead, no grounding heartbeat for him to listen to, no laugh or small touches.

Frank’s words about Matt being one bad day away from turning into him seemed to hit a bit too close right now and he forced the words from his head.

Matt shook his head, forcing himself to focus as he took out the guards at the front of an abandoned building. He could count at least ten more heartbeats inside and froze for a moment, titling his head as he listened to each one, desperately hoping that one of them was yours.

There, he thought, it was unsteady and weak but it was yours. You were still alive but Matt could hear your breathing was also laboured and with that he made quick work of taking out the rest of guards before following your heartbeat.

Matt found the room you were in and didn’t hesitate to push the door open with a loud bang, shocking the lone guard who had been left with you. He used the man's shock to his advantage and with a quick few punches the man was out cold.

He didn’t waste any time turning his attention to you, kneeling down in front of you and untying your hands. At this point you could barely keep your eyes open, it hurt to breathe but you pushed through the pain to look at the Devil who rescued you.

“It’s good to see you, D.” You whispered, voice strained from screaming.

Matt let out a wet chuckle as he heard your breathing, determining you had at least three cracked ribs. He finally let his hands trail your body starting at your wrists and wincing at the cuts, he gently ran his hands up your arms, feeling more cuts and forming bruises, before he came to your shoulders.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again.” He said just as softly, voice thick with emotion as he let himself touch your face.

He started by placing his hands on your jawline before moving up to cup your cheeks. He felt your lips twitch into a smile followed by a hiss of pain and a metallic smell that told him you’d reopened your split lips. Before he pulled away he let his thumb trace your cheekbone, smiling himself as he felt you lean into the touch.

“Let’s get out of here.” He said, gently helping you to stand before taking your weight as he led you from the building, burner phone already in his hand as he called for Claire.

“Didn’t I stitch you back together yesterday?” She asked as soon as she picked up the phone, causing Matt to smile.

“It’s not me this time,” Matt told her, frowning as you let out a soft groan.

“You found her?” Claire asked.

“I found her,” he confirmed, “my place is closer if you-”

“I’ll meet you there.” She told him before saying goodbye.

Thankfully it wasn’t a long walk and the fresh air was helping you come to faster. Once you were completely aware of your surroundings you froze causing Matt to stumble slightly as he still had you leaning heavily against him.

“Shadow?” He asked in concern, tilting his head as he tried to determine if you had aggravated any of your injuries.

“My mask,” You said, still looking at Matt. Matt’s eyes widened under his own mask as he too realised that you thought he could see your face. “You know who I am.”

And what was Matt supposed to say? Actually your identity is still a secret because I’m blind but please don’t freak out, yeah that’d go down well. Though part of him did want to tell you who he was, part of him had been thinking about taking the mask off for a while now. He liked you and he didn’t just want to know you as Shadow or have you only know the Devil, he wanted you to incorporate yourself into every part of Matt Murdock’s life and him into your life, he wanted to know everything about you, starting with your name.

Once you were better, Matt promised himself, once you were better he’d tell you who he was. Now his only priority was getting you back to his apartment and into Claire’s hands.

“I’m fine really.” You insisted, watching as the Devil smiled and Claire rolled her eyes.

“If I don’t stitch the wound, it’ll just keep bleeding and you’ll get an infection, trust me you want to deal with this now.” The nurse told you, ignoring your pout as she leaned closer to you and began closing the wound.

You let out a cry of pain as the needle did its work but Matt sat on the floor next to the sofa, your hand in his, and kept up a steady one-sided conversation that helped distract you.

“A couple of blocks away there’s a group celebrating a birthday, it’s the boys 21st. They’re all singing to him and it’s not bad considering the amount of alcohol in their system,” Matt felt you shift on the sofa so that you were facing him and smiled to himself.

“Two floors down a baby is crying, she’s hungry but her mom is really stressed out. She doesn’t know what to do so she’s trying to rock her to sleep. About five blocks to the right a group of students are out drinking after finishing their finals, one of them is sober and making sure another doesn’t wander off.”

This was something the two of you had done since you found out exactly what Matt’s abilities were. On the quieter times of your shared moments together you always asked him to tell you about the city and Matt was always more than happy to comply, the two of you laying on a rooftop somewhere and the words whispered only for you to hear. He felt your breathing soften, no longer focused on Claire stitching your torso but solely on Matt’s words, he couldn’t fight back the smile as he squeezed your hand.

Claire watched on with a raised eyebrow. It had been so long since she’d seen Matt like this, oftentimes he was far too stressed and pushing himself to the limit but since this Shadow, since you, came onto the scene Matt had started taking it easier, still doing his job but there was a softness to him now. So when he showed up bruised, beaten and bleeding but determined to get back out there she had been scared for him. Finding out you had gone missing was enough to send Matt spiralling so she hated to think just how he’d react to finding you dead.

She wasn’t sure Matt would survive that.

It wasn’t long before Claire was pulling off her gloves and giving you care advice that she just knew you wouldn’t follow, not if you were anything like Matt.

“Keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t rip her stitches.” Claire told Matt as she packed her bag.

“I’ll keep her safe.” Matt told her and she didn’t doubt those words for even a second. As far as she was concerned you held a lot of power over Matt, if something happened to you that might be the push he needed to cross the line he never wanted to cross.

She watched as you smiled up at Matt, it was a tired smile but my god was it blinding. Claire knew then that as far as you had gotten Matt wrapped around your little finger he was just as tightly wound around yours.

“I’ll walk you out,” Matt told her before turning to you, “Will you be okay?” He asked softly and Claire almost felt bad that Matt couldn’t see just how you were looking at him.

“For the few minutes you’ll be gone, I think I can manage to stay alive.” You grinned up at him causing him to roll his eyes. “Thank you, Claire.” You said, waving at her as the two of them left the apartment, leaving you alone to sink further into the sofa.

You shut your eyes tightly as thoughts of the men who attacked you filled your head and accidentally ended up falling asleep.

“She likes you, you know?” Claire told him as they walked down the stairs.

“You think?” He asked, sure he could feel your heartbeat and the way your cheeks flushed but could you like him, was it possible for you to feel the same way he did? “Trust me, if you could see the way she looked at you, you’d have no doubts,” Claire said and the steady beat of her heart showed she meant the words, filling Matt with hope. If Claire didn’t think he stood a chance with you she would have told him no matter how much it’d hurt. “You ever going to show her the person under the mask?”

Matt stayed silent as they descended down another flight of stairs before speaking.

“When she’s better. She’s been through enough. The last thing I want is for her to panic over the whole,” Here Matt paused to wave a hand in front of his face, “blind thing.”

“She knows what you can do.” Claire told him and Matt nodded because sure you knew his abilities but finding out a blind person could do the things he could, it would come as a shock and then you’d panic over him before calming down.

“She does,” he agreed easily, “but even without that I can’t just go up and tell her now, she can’t get up and walk out of my apartment if she wanted to.”

“Matt, listen to me,” Claire said as they came to the door, turning to face him as she spoke, “She isn’t going to leave when you take the mask off, I promise you. Plus she’s going to be a pain when it comes to healing and cleaning her stitches so she’s going to need something to take her mind off it. I say you tell her first chance you get. You deserve to be happy, you, Matt Murdock.”

Matt gave her a shaky smile because it was exactly what he needed to hear. There was a part of him that felt selfish but Claire was right, he deserved to be happy and nothing could possibly make him happier than you.

“Thank you, Claire.” He said softly.

“I’m glad you found each other.” She told him, tone matching his, and with that she left the apartment building leaving Matt alone with a grin on his face.

As he reentered his apartment, taking in the neon pulsing through the billboard outside and your soft, even breathing, he paused in the entryway, leaning against the wall and just let himself listen to you for a moment. He listened to you breathe, letting him know you were alive, he had saved you before they could do anymore damage. Despite the stitches and the bruises you were ok, you would be ok.

Matt would make sure of it.

With soft steps he made his way over to the sofa and picked you up in his arms, smiling as you curled into him, murmuring words he couldn’t catch. He was gentle as he placed you on his bed and wrapped the blanket around you, hesitating for only a moment before he allowed himself to lean down and kiss your head.

Claire was right because of course she was and Matt vowed to show you the man under the mask, vowed to tell you how he felt because he had come too close to losing you.

-

The next morning you woke up with a groan, hand going to your side before pausing and remembering the stitches. As you shifted your eyebrows knitted together as you felt the softness of the sheets and opened your eyes to see what was most definitely not your bedroom.

Hadn’t you fallen asleep on the Devil’s sofa?

With a shrug you pulled yourself into a sitting position, wincing at the ache in your torso, before the smell of food invaded your senses and it hit you just how hungry you were. It took a few attempts for you to stand up but you managed and padded out of the bedroom and saw the Devil cooking breakfast.

“Morning.” You said softly.

The Devil turned to smile at you, that smile always made your heart beat faster and never failed to put a smile on your own face. It was one of the first things you’d loved about him.

“Good morning,” He said as he placed the pan on the counter before making his way around to you, hand hovering over your wound before you nodded at him, that was the permission he needed to gently examine the stitches before he pulled away and pulled a chair out for you. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”

It wasn’t long before you and Matt were sitting next to each other with a plate of food in front of you. You dug in, not having eaten anything of substance for however long you were captured.

Matt made light conversation though he knew you had picked up on his nervousness. He figured it was best to rip the bandaid off and tell you as soon as possible.

“There’s something I wanted to tell you, something I should have told you months ago, something that shouldn’t have taken me nearly losing you to admit too.” He began and he felt your heartbeat quicken as he did, he didn’t know whether it was a good sign or not but he’d started now. “I really like you, Shadow, I have for a long time now. Being with you makes everything feel so much better, you make everything easier. I want you in my life, not just the Devil’s but in mine.” And with that Matt let his hands reach for the mask, your eyes widening as he did, before he gently pulled it off and placed it on the table.

It was silent for far too long in Matt’s opinion, your heartbeat hadn’t settled down yet and he could sense your mouth moving but no words came out. He was just about ready to jam the mask back on and pretend all this hadn’t happened when you spoke.

“Y/N,” You blurted out and Matt could tell it wasn’t what you had meant to say but still you continued, “My name’s Y/N.”

“Matt.” He told you and, God, didn’t his smile look even better now that you could see his whole face, see the way his eyes crinkled and his face lit up. “So,” Matt began but you cut him off.

“Sorry, sorry, I like you too, Matt. I have done for so long and I-I’m so glad it was you who saved me last night, I wanted it to be you so bad.” You told him, smiling as he leaned forward and cupped your cheek in his hand.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, feeling you nod and with that he leaned forward softly pressing your lips together.

The kiss started off slow and soft but eventually it heated up, the kiss conveying all those months of hiding your feelings, making up for all the times you could have kissed but didn’t.

Eventually Matt pulled away but didn’t didn’t go far as he rested his forehead against yours. The silence spread for a long while, the two of you more than happy to stay in your own little bubble where the other was safe.

You broke it though once something clicked in your head now that you had gotten the confession out of the way.

“You’re blind.” You told him watching as he pulled away from you.

“So I’ve been told.” He chuckled, feeling slightly self conscious now that he didn’t have the mask to cover his eyes but hearing your laugh was enough to push those feelings aside.

“Shut up,” you laughed, “Matt I’ve seen what you can do-”

“And you know how enhanced my other senses are,” He told you, gently cutting you off. “I don’t need sight to see, my other senses make up for it. Like right now I don’t need to see you to know that your eyebrows are furrowed together or that you're biting your lip to hold back a smile. I don’t need to see you to know that your cheeks are flushed making you look even more adorable.” He said, taking great delight in both your giggle and the gentle smack to his chest.

“You really can’t see?” You asked in amazement.

Matt was right you had seen what he was capable of, the man could do things that people with fully functioning sight couldn’t do. His enhanced senses allowed him to easily beat groups of people up without a single gun. You were in awe of his fighting style before, how he always seemed to be two steps ahead of his opponent but now you were even more amazed.

“Not conventionally.” Matt said, causing you to laugh.

“You’re incredible.” You told him before leaning in to kiss the smirk off his lips.

“You know I’ll keep you safe right?” Matt asked softly as the two of you pulled away, Matt’s face shifting with the words, he felt you reach up and cup his cheek, recalling the words Foggy used, Matt Murdock wore his emotions on his face. You could see how determined he was to keep his promise, how much it had scared him when you’d gone missing.

So instead of telling him you were more than capable of protecting yourself, something you had always told him when you’d first met before you finally let him past your walls, you nodded.

“You watch my back, I watch yours, right D?” You questioned back instead because that was the way things were between the two of you, had been for as long as you’d been working together. You protected your Devil and he, well he would…

“Always protect you, my shadow.” He murmured before pulling you in for another kiss that conveyed just how much he meant his words.

_______

Matt taglist - @janesofia7, @cinderellacauseshebroke, @black-rose-29, @runawaywithmyghost, @ppgrayson, @alexxavicry, @battinsonn, @lokismidnight, @benhardyslut, @baconlover001, @jasontoddthezombie, @qfton, @buckysnumberonegirl @lazysheepperfection, @parkershoco, @call-me-a-fool, @father-violet, @lizamango, @urbestgrrl

Again and Again

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Febuwhump Prompt - head wound

Prompt - ‘No matter what I'll be there to patch you up time and time again.'

A loud thud had you blinking awake in confusion. You lay still for a moment, not moving and silent as you listened, waiting for another sign of movement. When none came you groaned softly and scrunched your eyes together, blindly reaching your hand out for your phone and squinting against the bright light before letting out another groan at the early morning hour.

As you threw your phone onto the bed you reached a hand out to the other side, frowning as it was still as empty as it was when you had fallen asleep - Matt wasn’t home then.

Another thud had you sitting up, looking from the empty side of the bed and then back towards the door leading out into the living room. Since finding out about Daredevil you were used to Matt sneaking in at odd hours but he was usually silent, hardly ever waking you as he changed out of his suit and climbed into bed with you.

This was the first time you’d woken up to quiet bangs echoing through the apartment.

Reluctantly, you let the silk sheets fall from your body, wincing as your bare feet touched the cold floor. You blinked harshly against the neon lights that flooded the living room before your eyes fell on Matt who sat sprawled out on the foot of the stairs.

“Hey,” You called softly, making your way over to him and crouching down so you were face to face. “What happened?”

Matt didn’t reply. You watched as his head titled before letting it fall back against the bannister with a soft thud causing you to frown.

You reached forward, hands running gently along the mask before you made quick but careful work of pulling it off, wincing as a trail of blood became visible to you.

“Shit Matt.” You said quietly, more to yourself than him, unsure of what to do.

He was obviously concussed, the way he was swaying slightly and the way his eyes kept falling closed told you as much. The blood, you paused as you looked at it, there was a lot of it, too much. You hadn’t seen Matt hurt before, nothing more than some bruises here or there, the occasional stitches that were already taken care of by the time you saw him.

You watched as Matt shifted, trying to pull something out of his pocket but you quickly stopped him, not wanting him to make any other injuries worse.

“Claire.” He slurred out, sounding drunk.

“Claire.” You repeated in relief, fishing the burner phone out of his pocket yourself.

You listened as the phone continued to ring, praying that she would answer and almost sobbed in relief as you had the unfamiliar woman’s voice.

“Please don’t tell me you’re dying when I’m out of town.” Now you could have sobbed in disbelief, she wasn’t in Hell’s Kitchen and Matt was bleeding, badly.

“Matt?” Claire said into the phone when she received no reply, her stomach filling with dread as the seconds passed by.

“He’s bleeding.” You managed to say after taking a deep breath.

“Who is thi-” Claire began but cut herself off, “Y/N?” She asked instead.

“Yes,” You said quietly, not taking your eyes off Matt. “He’s bleeding and I don’t know what to do.” You told her again.

“Okay, where’s he bleeding?” Claire asked, her voice firm but gentle. How often had she heard Matt talk about you like you were something the world had never seen before? She knew he tried to keep you out of Daredevil business as much as he could, patching himself up at her place rather than doing it where you could see. She knew you must be panicking right now and she was not looking forward to trying to talk you through how to patch the man up.

“His head, I don’t know if he’s bleeding anywhere else.” You couldn’t see any damage to the suit and you just prayed that this was the worst of it.

Matt let his eyes fall close and as his breathing slowed down you felt yourself slip further into a panic.

“Hey, hey,” You said, shaking him, “Don’t you dare go to sleep.”

Matt managed a weak nod and you listened as Claire spoke again.

“Ok, you’re doing a great job not letting him sleep. Now listen, I need you to grab his med kit and tell me what he has, okay?”

Claire listened as you rummaged around before pulling out the first aid kit and making your way back over to him, giving him a panicked shake as you saw his eyes closed.

“M’okay baby.” He slurred out, giving you a reassuring smile that did little to calm your fears.

You listed all the things in the kit off to Claire who nodded and began to walk you through it.

“Ok, I need you to put some gloves on and get some cool water in a bowl,” You didn’t want to leave Matt alone for even a second but you knew you had to listen to Claire so put her on speaker before going to do as she said, one eye on Matt the whole time.

“I have it.” You told her softly, brushing your gloved fingers along Matt’s knuckles as you did.

Matt managed a weak smile in your direction.

“Okay, good. Now you have to clean the cut and as much of the blood as you can.” She told you, causing you to frown but you listened to the woman at the other end of the phone and brought a clean, wet cloth up to the cut.

Matt winced, you mirroring the movement as he did.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered as you tried to clean the cut as gently as possible. It took a few minutes until you managed to clean most of the blood, though some still pooled around the wound.

“It’s clean.” You said in the direction of the phone that rested on the ground next to the first aid kit.

“You’re doing great, Y/N.” Claire told you, “Is it still bleeding?” She really hoped it wasn’t because then she’d have to talk you through how to stitch him up with a needle and she really didn’t think you could handle that.

“Yeah, a little bit.” A little bit, Claire could work with that…hopefully.

“I need you to apply pressure to it, alright? Just for a few minutes to see if we can stop the bleeding.”

Your eyes widened in sympathy as Matt let out a hiss of pain, using your free hand to take one of his in yours and giving him a gentle squeeze.

“You’re okay,” You told him, hoping you were right but you knew Matt trusted Claire and so all you had to do was trust him. “I’ve got you.”

You continued to whisper comforting words, not sure if they were for Matt or yourself at that point as you pressed the cloth against the wound.

“Is it still bleeding?” Claire asked after five minutes had passed, letting out a sigh of relief as you told her it wasn’t. “Good, that’s really good.”

Claire directed you to the butterfly stitches and you made quick work of finding and unpackaging them, feeling uneasy as you looked from them to Matt.

“Pay attention now, ok? You need to push the two sides of the wound together, close as you can.” You did as she told you, apologising as Matt let out a pained breath, “Good, now you have to put the stitches on…”

You listened carefully as Claire walked you through it, watching as Matt winced in pain causing you to frown but you carried on like Claire said.

“That’s it, you’re done,” Claire said, causing you to deflate in relief. “You did good, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” You said, pausing to take a shaky breath, “Thank you for helping him.”

“It’s what I do,” Claire smiled, “He should be good to go to bed now, just keep a close eye on him and call me if you need anything.”

“Thank you again, Claire.” You said, glad that Matt had her in his life.

“You’re welcome.” She said before hanging up and leaving you to deal with a concussed Matt.

It took more than a few tries to get him upright before you practically dragged him into the bedroom. Getting the suit off him was a struggle but eventually you managed to pull it off, smiling in relief as you saw nothing but a few bruises on his torso.

“Let’s get you to bed.” You said as you guided him onto his side and pulled the sheets around him before heading back to your side.

Any tiredness you had felt when you had first woken up was gone as fear and adrenaline ran through your veins, determined to stay up all night to make sure Matt’s breathing stayed steady.

You watched as Matt turned his head toward you, his eyes fighting to stay open, as he reached for your hand before bringing it up to his lips.

“Thank you,” He whispered against your knuckles, causing you to smile.

“Go to sleep Matt.” You said, voice as quiet as his.

“You shouldn’t have had to do that.” He told you, clearly struggling to speak clearly but somehow managing to.

You let yourself smile at him, smile at the fact that he was the one bleeding out not even ten minutes again, the one who was clearly involved in something terrible before, the one who was risking his life to make his city safer and the one who was more concerned for your wellbeing than his own.

Matt Murdock really was an idiot, but he was your idiot.

“I’d do it again and again.” You told him honestly, not even surprised by how much you meant those words. Sure when you first started dating Matt you hardly expected all this to come with it but even now you wouldn’t give him or Daredevil up for the world.

“Too good for me.” Matt mumbled as he shifted, pulling you closer to him so your head rested on his chest.

“Sleep.” You commanded with a soft laugh.

“Love you.” Matt murmured against your hair before pressing a lingering kiss there.

As you listened to his breathing even out you couldn’t help the soft laugh that left your lips, feeling safe in the comfort of his arms, glad that he was safe.

“I love you too.” You whispered into the darkness, ready to spend the night making sure he was okay.

You didn’t remember falling asleep but you woke up in the morning to fingers gently brushing up and down your arm, the room lit up softly as the morning sun shone through the window.

A smile spread across your face as you stretched, shifting so you were looking up at Matt who smiled down at you.

“Good morning.” Matt said quietly, looking better than he had last night.

“How’re you feeling?” You asked, voice thick with sleep causing Matt’s smile to widen as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Better, thanks to you.” He said honestly, “You shouldn’t have had to do that.” Matt told you again, feeling guilty for letting you see him like that, for forcing you to be the one to patch him up.

“Oh yeah, you’re totally right,” You told him with an eye roll, “I should've just left you to bleed out on the staircase.”

“Come on,” Matt chuckled, “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” You told him, leaning up to kiss his jaw, “I meant what I said last night, Matt, I’d patch you up a thousand times, though I won’t be mad if you’d rather go to Claire.”

“I don’t know you’re a pretty cute nurse.” Matt murmured, leaning down and softly connecting his lips to yours.

Matt shifted so that he was hovering over you, keeping the kiss soft and slow. He felt you smile into the kiss and felt himself fall further in love with you, something he didn't think was possible.

“I love you so much,” He whispered against your lips, pulling back enough to do so, smiling as you giggled.

“I love you too,” you told him, leaning up to capture his lips against yours again, content to spend the day in bed with Matt and if he pouted and whined dramatically to gain some sympathy from you then neither of you were complaining.

________

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Stitches & Shivers

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Febuwhump Prompt - Hypothermia

Prompt - ‘But we only ever need you, Matt.’

Notes - I'm sorry this is late but I'm so sick so this isn't one of my best

Matt didn’t remember much from after he dove out of the window, leaving behind a burning Nobu, Fisk and his men. He remembered his body hitting the water and remembered the cold, it was so cold. He remembered hearing his own heart beating so loudly in his ears, remembered thinking it was going to beat right out of his chest. He remembered the pain that spread through his whole body as water mixed with the cuts.

What he didn’t remember was just how long he stayed in the water for, feeling lifeless, he didn’t remember dragging his bleeding body out of the water and he didn’t remember how he managed to get home.

He didn’t remember Foggy leaning over him, pulling his mask off, he didn’t remember you watching from behind, he didn’t remember your gasp in shock and horror, didn’t remember Foggy’s confused call of his name or fighting him against calling anyone but Claire.

What he did remember was waking up the next morning, shivers racking his body, sending shots of pain through his stitches. He remembered feeling what must have been every single blanket in his apartment wrapped tightly around him doing little to protect from the coldness that ran through his veins.

You, however, remembered every bit of that night.

You remembered going to Matt’s apartment with Foggy after spending most of the night in Josie’s. You remembered Foggy calling for Matt through the door, telling how they couldn’t lose hope now.

Then you remembered the bang that sounded from inside, remembered the look you shared with Foggy as you both ran up the stairs, using the roof access to enter Matt’s apartment. You remembered Foggy picking something up as you both assumed an intruder had broken in.

You remembered the figure, dressed in black, standing for a second before he toppled over, falling onto the floor. You remembered looking at him, something familiar you couldn’t quite put your finger on and then you watched Foggy pull the mask off to reveal Matt.

You let out a choked gasp, taking a step back and hitting the wall behind you as you looked down at Matt, more than half dead and still bleeding out.

“Matt?” Foggy asked, voice soft in confusion as he looked up at you questioningly. You shook your head, eyes not leaving Matt.

“You need to call an ambulance,” You said shakily, “Now.”

Suddenly Matt shot up, catching Foggy’s wrist in his hand when the man pulled his phone out again. Both you and Foggy froze, watching the pain spread across Matt’s face.

“No hospital,” He managed to grit out, his free hand somehow pulled the burner phone from his pocket, “Claire.” Was all he said before he promptly passed out and caused you and Foggy to shoot each other looks of confusion.

You and Foggy waited for Claire in silence, not knowing what to say. What could you say when you’d just found out your boyfriend and best friend was The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? You watched as Matt’s body shivered against his wet clothes and wondered just what the hell had happened tonight.

Eventually there was a knock at the door and Foggy was the one to stand. You continued to sit on the chair, not letting your eyes leave Matt, focusing in on the way his breathing seemed slow, too slow, the rise and fall of his chest was barely there.

Foggy seemed to ask a million questions when Claire stepped into the apartment, helping her get Matt onto the couch as she knelt next to him, starting in on the stitches like she’d been doing it forever.

All of Foggy’s angry demands for answers were ignored, Claire stayed silent other than to tell you that it wasn’t her place to say anything.

“Matt can tell you when he wakes up.” She had said, causing you to finally look away from Matt and to her.

“Will he wake up?” You asked, voice small, barely there.

Claire’s face softened as she looked at you before she focused back on Matt.

“He always seems to pull through.” She told you.

She worked for another forty or so minutes before she leaned back and looked at him questioning, watching how the shivers hadn’t subdued. At first she’d chalked it up to shock, those wounds weren’t regular knife wounds afterall but now she noticed how pale he was, which again could’ve just been a factor from the blood loss, but there was also the fact his lips had a blue tinge to them.

“Shit,” she said, causing you and Foggy to look to her, fear flooding your system.

“What?” Foggy asked urgently, “What is it? Is he ok?”

You watched as she scanned the room before settling on Matt’s wet pile of clothes and cursed again.

“Did neither of you think to tell me he was soaking when he showed up?” She snapped.

“Sorry I was a bit more concerned with the blood loss.” Foggy replied sarcastically causing her to roll her eyes.

“I need every blanket he has, now.” She told him before turning back to finish the stitches.

You were on the edge of your seat as you looked at Matt in fear. The urgency in Claire’s tone and the movement of her hands had you desperately begging anybody who would listen to just let him be ok.

“What’s wrong with him?” You asked as Foggy returned.

“Hypothermia,” She said, biting her lip as she stitched one of the smaller cuts.

“Hypothermia?” You asked, looking up at Foggy and seeing he looked just as worried as you.

“He probably would have been fine if it was just the water, he’d have a hell of a cold but he would’ve been fine but you mix the coldness of the water with the freezing air and you're practically asking for the hypothermia to set in. It’s what's causing him to shiver so bad, well that and the blood loss.” She explained but you just huffed in disbelief as you settled further back onto the chair.

Claire worked in silence from there, none of you knowing what to say after that.

Once she was done she sat back and tugged her gloves off, looking Matt up and down before she grabbed the bundle of blankets Foggy had found and started placing them on top of him, making sure he was wrapped up tightly before turning to the two of you.

“I have to go,” She told you, raising her hand as the two of you went to protest, “I have a shift at the hospital, I can’t stay here all night. He should be fine but if anything changes, call me immediately.”

“He should be fine?” Foggy asked, raising an eyebrow at the nurse.

“He’s shivering, right, that’s good, it means his heat regulation systems are still active. We can’t put him in the shower because of the stitches so you need to make sure he stays warm, keep him covered, when he wakes up give him hot drinks, soup, energy drinks. Something tells me one of you is gonna have to run to the store whilst he’s out.”

And with that Claire finished packing up her bag and left you and Foggy alone with an unconscious Matt.

Hours passed but eventually Foggy stood up, telling you he was going to grab some supplies for Matt. You nodded, not really listening to him as you continued to look at Matt, with the bundle of blankets you couldn’t see the rise and fall of his chest but you still refused to look away.

Foggy patted your shoulder sympathetically before heading out.

At some point you ended up sitting on the floor next to the sofa, your hand finding its way under the blankets and taking Matt’s in yours, brushing your thumb against his skin periodically. You relaxed a bit as you could hear the soft breaths telling you he was still alive.

“How can you be him?” You asked softly, eyes running across Matt’s face before resting on his closed eyes. “I always said you could see more than most people could but shit Matt.” You trailed off, remembering all the things you had seen and heard about The Devil.

“Wake up Matt, please just, just wake up.” You whispered, letting your head rest against the sofa as you tried to hold back tears.

Foggy quietly entered the apartment on the off chance you had managed to fall asleep but smiled sadly as he watched you sit on the floor whispering quiet words he couldn’t make out.

“I got some stuff,” Foggy said, still keeping his voice quiet as he sat on the chair and began putting drinks and tins on the table. “Soup, some hot chocolate because chocolate is meant to-”

“Why didn’t he tell us?” You asked, cutting Foggy off.

Foggy looked at you, frowned at your red eyes before sighing and slipping off the chair to sit next you.

“I don’t know, Y/N/N,” He told you honestly because that was one of the thousands of questions that kept running through his head - why? Why hadn’t Matt trusted him, why hadn’t Matt trusted you? The three of you had been friends since college and now Foggy was questioning everything. “I really don’t know.”

Hours passed in silence, Foggy closed his eyes next to you but neither of you could fall asleep despite how tired you were. The fear that something would happen to Matt whilst you slept had you forcing your eyes open every time they blinked shut for longer periods of time.

The neon lights were replaced with a golden glow as the sun rose. Foggy groaned as he stood up and headed to the kitchen. You heard the fridge open and then the sound of a bottle lid being popped off before the sound of water splashing against Foggy’s face filled the silence.

You tensed when you felt Matt’s hand tighten on yours before he shifted and tried to sit up.

“Wouldn’t do that if I was you.” Foggy told him before you could say anything and you watched as Matt looked around the apartment, trying to pinpoint where the voice had come from whilst a violent shiver ran through his body. “Then again, maybe I would. The hell do I know about Matt Murdock?”

“Foggy,” You started softly but Foggy cut you off with a glare.

“Don’t Y/N,” He said, voice frighteningly calm, “don’t you dare defend him right now.”

“Y/N,” Matt asked, tightening his hold on your hand once more, you returned the squeeze before pulling your hand out of his and stood up, sitting on the arm of the chair.

“You stitched me up?” Matt asked, looking in Foggy’s direction.

“Nope, that was your nurse friend.” In all the years you’d known Foggy you had never seen him like this, it was eerie and you found yourself looking away from him.

Foggy and Matt spoke about Claire before you shook your head and asked quietly, eyes tearing up at the question,

“Are you really blind?” You hated to ask it but the things The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen could do, there was no way it could be Matt but you had the proof laid out before you.

“Y/N,” He said softly, turning wide eyes onto you.

“Answer her, Matt.” Foggy demanded calmly.

And Matt did, he told you all about his senses, a world on fire, how he got his heightened senses. He told you everything and you and Foggy could do little more than sit there and listen to his every word.

“So you can see?” Foggy asked after a moment of silence passed.

“Foggy,” He sighed, “you’re not listening to me.”

“No I am, world on fire, I got it.” Foggy snapped and you frowned between them. “I thought we were friends, Matt. You lied to me since the day we met, you lied to Y/N, hell you’re dating her and you didn’t even tell her.”

“What did you expect me to say, Foggy? Hi, I'm Matt. I got some chemicals splashed in my eyes when I was a kid that gave me heightened senses.” Matt said sarcastically causing you and Foggy to roll your eyes.

“You don’t lead with it, Matt,” You finally spoke up, voice soft as you did, “But at some point you should’ve known you could trust us.”

“I didn’t even tell my dad, Y/N/N.” He told you, eyes begging you to believe him.

“But you told the nurse.” You said, raising an eyebrow at him, sure he could sense it.

“I didn’t tell her, she found me in a dumpster, all right? Half dead. She didn’t tell you anything about all this?” Matt asked as he shifted, freezing despite the blankets but doing his best not to focus on that right now.

“She didn’t say anything, refused to tell us.” You told him.

“She seemed nice,” Foggy added with a smile and shake of his head.

“Did you blow up all those buildings?” You asked after taking a shaky breath.

Matt huffed out a pained breath as he looked at you with watery eyes.

“Do you really even need to ask that?” He said, hurt bleeding into his voice.

“Yeah, Matt, I think we do.” Foggy said coldly and Matt started talking about Fisk and Nobu and ninjas. Foggy blew up at him again but was interrupted by the ringing of Matt’s phone.

Karen, Karen, Karen.

It took some pleading from Matt and a nod from you before Foggy caved and lied to her.

“You tell us everything, Murdock and don’t leave a damn thing out.”

Matt spoke for what felt like hours telling you about Russians, the Chinese, how Fisk was working with all these people to build his empire. He told you about a man called Stick, a war that was coming, he told you how he was trained. As you listened you just shook your head. You didn’t care about Fisk or his plans.

You cared about Matt.

Matt who was running around the city, no protection, no amour, nothing but his fists going up against gangs and ninjas.

You looked at him as you spoke and hated feeling like you were looking at a stranger.

“...you haven’t showered since yesterday morning but you rinsed your face in my sink. Y/N’s wearing the perfume I got her for her birthday last year and she was crying before, there’s smudges of mascara under her eyes. I know the more I say the faster both of your hearts beat.”

You looked over at him with wide, scared eyes as you took in his words.

“Oh my god, that means,” You said, trailing off but Foggy seemed to pick up your train of thought.

“Everytime we lied to you, you knew and what you just played along?”

“Basically.” He said, causing you to let out a huff of disbelief as you stood up.

“If you weren’t half dead, I’d kick your ass, Murdock.” Foggy told him and you couldn't help but agree with the sentiment but at the same time all you wanted to do was make sure he was ok.

You hated the fact he lied to you but you couldn’t imagine the burden on his shoulder from carrying that secret.

Foggy looked at you, he could tell you were going to forgive Matt a hell of a lot quicker than he deserved but he couldn’t blame you. Since you started dating you and Matt had been closer than anyone he knew. He could see how it was taking everything in you to stay away from Matt right now, wanting to be angry at him but seeing the shakes and remembering the blood…well even Foggy had to admit it was hard to be angry.

When Matt told them about the little girl and her father you felt your eyes tear up and shut them, not letting any tears fall but you made your way over to Matt and took a seat back on the floor. You watched as Matt relaxed as you took his shaking hand in yours and rested your head on the blankets, careful not to catch his stitches.

“Did you ever stop to think about what would happen if you went to jail? Or worse?” Foggy asked, causing you to take a steadying breath because you couldn’t think about that, not after seeing Matt laying there last night looking like a corpse. “You really think people would think I didn’t know? That Y/N didn’t know?”

“This city needs me in that mask, Foggy.” Matt told him, tears welling up in his eyes just like they did in Foggy’s.

“Maybe it does,” He told him whilst shaking his head, “But I don’t, Y/N doesn’t, we only ever needed you, Matt.”

The silence passed for a moment or two at his words because what could Matt say when he knew Foggy was right.

“I wouldn’t have kept this from you, Matt, not from you.” Foggy said quietly and coldly.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

And with that Foggy headed out of the door with a resounding slam leaving you and Matt alone in silence.

“Y/N,” Matt said but you shook your head and pulled away from him.

“You need something warm,” You told him, standing up and busying yourself with making some soup.

Matt closed his eyes and listened to you, fear, regret, shame, all those emotions and more filled his stomach and for a second he feared he’d throw up but managed to swallow it  down.

You helped Matt sit up when he asked and took over feeding him when his hands shook too badly.

“It’s not that I didn’t trust you,” Matt said once he was done and the two of you sat side by side, Matt shaking like leaf, “I just, Y/N, you mean everything to me and if you knew- I couldn’t bring you into this side of my life, couldn’t risk you.”

“I get it, Matt, I do but I’m allowed to be pissed at you.” You told him but your tone was soft and gentle as you shifted the blanket around him.

“You are.” Matt agreed, hissing as his body shivered violently, sending a wave of pain down his body. Now that there was no arguing, no telling his version of events, nothing to focus on except the pain that was his whole body.

“Can you help me to the bedroom?” Matt asked and you raised a worried eyebrow at him.

“Claire said-”

“Please Y/N, I promise once I’m there I'll stay.”

Despite the warning from Claire you helped Matt up from the sofa and slowly made your way over to the bed, settling Matt on it before heading back to the living room to grab one of the energy drinks and the pile of blankets.

It wasn’t long before you had Matt tucked up and held a bottle up to his lips.

“Thank you for staying.” Matt told you quietly, fiddling with one of the blankets.

“As if I’d leave,” You smiled, “I might be scared for you, might be hurt you didn’t tell me but like hell I’d leave you.”

“I really am sorry.” He told you, eyes wide and watery.

“I know.” You replied, blinking harshly against your own tears.

“I know I don't deserve to even ask but will you lay with me?” He was right, he didn’t deserve to ask but you found yourself carefully crawling into bed next to him, wincing at the coldness of his body before you ran your hand up and down his arm, making sure to avoid cuts and stitches.

Matt practically melted as he felt your body heat, moving closer to you and wincing as the cuts on his back shifted against the silk sheets.

“Careful,” You murmured as you lifted your hand and brushed some of Matt’s hair from his forehead, smiling despite yourself as he leaned into the touch.

You and Matt sat together in silence, Matt’s head resting against your chest as you wrapped your arms around him, trying to provide as much warmth as you could. He had long since closed his eyes and you started to think he’d fallen asleep until he spoke.

“Are we going to be ok?” He asked, voice quiet and small.

You didn’t respond for a good few minutes, the silence hanging heavily in the room as Matt waited for your answer.

“I don’t know,” You eventually told him honestly, “I don’t know, Matt.”

But for today you’d stay with him because you couldn’t bring yourself to leave the bed, to leave him.

_____________

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I'll Always Find You

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Febuwhump Prompt - Kidnapped

Prompt - ‘Some things you don't have to promise. You just do.’

The city lights blurred together as you sat in the car, unsure exactly how you ended up there, unsure how you had let Karen talk you into heading upstate with her and Ben. She hadn’t told you much, told Ben even less from the sounds of it, but you knew it involved Fisk and that was enough for you.

Ever since that man had come onto the scene it felt like everything around you had started falling apart. Matt had become distant, everytime Fisk’s name was brought up he’d turn away from the conversation and shut himself off. You knew something was wrong with him, hell it didn’t take a genius to piece that together what with all the bruises and cuts and the sneaking around.

Maybe that’s why it hadn’t taken much convincing on Karen’s half to get you to tag along to some care facility.

Meeting Fisk’s mom wasn’t what you had expected from the visit though, neither was finding out that Fisk had murdered his own father but you knew the information was useless, whilst Karen excitedly chattered on about how this was the edge you needed to bring Fisk down you sat in the back of the car knowing full well the information from an old woman with dementia was unusable.

That didn’t mean you were going to give up but you knew that getting anything on Fisk wouldn’t be legal and as much as you loved Matt and Foggy you didn’t believe in their plan to take fisk down using the law. It was shockingly easy to find the right people hanging around in shady areas, even easier to get them talking, though the firm of Nelson and Murdock would definitely be seeing an influx of criminals seeking their promised legal representation.

You already knew a fair bit about Fisk from what Ben had collected with the help of the Man in the Mask and even though the people you had spoken to tonight hadn’t given much new information, they had fit a few of the missing pieces together for you.

Night had fallen, the streets of Hell’s Kitchen felt eerily silent as you made your way through them. On the walk back to your apartment you frowned but resisted the urge to turn around when it felt like somebody was following you.

You took a deep breath in an attempt to control your breathing before making a detour and decided to head to Matt’s apartment instead, it was closer than yours and you knew he wouldn’t mind you showing up, especially if he knew you didn’t feel safe.

As you walked you pulled your phone out of your pocket as casually as you could and typed a text to Matt, if you were being followed you didn’t want them to know you were onto them.

I think somebody is following me - five minutes from your apartment.

You hadn’t passed a single person and nothing seemed out of place but yet you couldn’t push the feeling of being watched away and practically melted in relief as you ran across the street over to Matt’s building.

Just as you grabbed the door handle you let out a hiss of pain as you felt yourself being pressed against the door, somebody grabbing your arm and bending it painfully behind your back before placing a gun on the small of your back.

“Let’s take a drive,” A voice said in your ear before you were dragged back and a piece of white cloth was being held to your mouth and try as you might all you could do was breathe it in.

You didn’t know how much time had passed from you being drugged to waking up though you had yet to open your eyes, trying your best to figure out your surroundings without alerting anybody who was in the room that you were awake. It was impossible though, the room was silent, no groans of pipes, no echos for you to try and figure out what size room you were in.

Finally you opened your eyes, blinking harshly against the sudden dizziness.

“You’re awake,” A steady voice said from opposite you causing you to pry your eyes open to see the man who had come to Nelson and Murdock however long ago, the man you now knew to be Fisk’s right hand man.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, trying to show you weren’t scared but not doing a great job hiding it, desperately hoping Matt had gotten your text and realised something had happened.

“You’ve been very,” Wesley said, trailing off with a wave of his hand, “troublesome regarding my employers- excuse me Mr Fisk’s cause.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at that, long nights researching into Fisk, getting files that weren’t exactly legal and noticing money trails, hell if Karen hadn’t found those files on his mom first it was only a matter of time before you found them yourself.

“Can’t say I’m disappointed to learn that.” You told him smugly, moving your hands against the restraints tying you to the chair.

“No, I didn’t suppose you would be.” Wesley told you, “You realise there isn’t a version of events where you leave this room, don’t you?”

You chuckled to hide your fear because though he didn’t look like much there was a calm in Wesley’s eyes that set you on edge. Fisk trusted this man for a reason and you really didn’t want to find out just how far Wesley would go to protect Fisk.

Come on, Matt, you begged silently, not exactly sure what Matt could do to help but knowing he was your only way out of this situation.

“I like my chances.” You told him boredly, desperately shoving your fear and anxiety away.

Wesley chuckled at you, he had to admit you were pretty convincing but he could see the terror you were trying so hard to hide. He watched as your eyes widened, barely noticeable but he was watching closely, as he pulled a gun and placed it on the table, watching you look from it to him.

“Let’s have a chat, shall we?”

Matt had finally finished convincing Melvin to make him a suit, promising protection he hoped he could keep before he finally made his way home, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. It didn’t take long before he was entering his apartment from the rooftop entrance and pulling the mask off.

He grabbed his phone from the bedside table where he had left it to charge before heading out in the mask and clicked through it, sitting on the bed and having a text message read aloud to him.

Y/N, 11:42PM, I think somebody is following me - five minutes from your apartment.

Matt felt his heart stutter as he practically smashed his hand on the talking clock on the table, his heart practically stopping when the clock told him it was currently 12:30 AM.

“No, no,” Matt said, standing up with a shake of his head as he wracked his brain for where you could be and hated that he was coming up empty.

Since the Fisk business the two of you had drifted apart and Matt took full responsibility for that. He knew Foggy was right, knew you deserved to know about the Mask but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you and now you were gone.

“Foggy,” he said into the phone, desperately hoping his friend had any information.

“Matt, wha’time is it?” Foggy asked groggily, squinting his eyes closed as he tried to wake himself up.

“Where has Y/N been the last few nights?” He asked.

“Y/N, I don’t know man, um-” Foggy began but Matt cut him off.

“Think Foggy!” He snapped, feeling bad but also more worried about you than anything.

“Matt, calm down, tell me what’s going on.” Foggy said calmly, sitting up as he did.

“Y/N’s gone, Foggy, and I don’t know where.” Matt told him, breathing unsteadily as he paced the room.

“Shit,” Foggy cursed, suddenly feeling more awake, “Um, ok, well I know her and Karen went somewhere the other day but Karen didn’t tell me where and I thought it was odd because you know they don’t get on but I figured maybe they were-” Foggy told him, rambling slightly.

“Foggy,” Matt cut him off, “She was with Karen?”

“Yeah, crap you think they did something to piss Fisk off?” Foggy asked in fear, knowing how determined the two of you were to get something on Fisk.

“Yeah I do,” Matt said, fear and rage running through him, “You should go to Karen, make sure she’s safe.”

“What will you do?” Foggy asked, already moving off the bed and throwing some shoes on.

“I’m going to get Y/N back.” Matt said in a cold, determined tone.

“So who were the people you took on your little adventure?” Wesley asked calmly.

You swallowed again, there was little doubt in your mind that Wesley knew exactly who had visited Fisk’s mom but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of confirming it.

“It was just me,” You told him, easily lying with a shrug, enjoying the way his face darkened for a second before falling back to its neutral position.

“Yes, well, Mrs Vistain remembers you which is rather surprising considering her illness.” Wesley said with a sympathetic nod, “she also remembers the pretty blond lady and a man.”

“I was the only one who had the pleasure of meeting her,” You said, fighting back a smile, “You know how it is, memories get muddled around and she thinks she remembers more people than there were.”

Wesley chuckled as he brought his hand to the gun, toying with it as he looked at you. You took a steadying breath as you began to twist your wrists against the restraints, trying to find a way to slip out of them.

Then all you had to do was grab the gun even though the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

“She was quite sure, actually,” Wesley said, “I’d take a guess that you were there with a Ms Karen Page and Mr Ben Urich, am I correct?”

You smiled at him, suppressing a wince as your wrist cut against the restraints.

“I assure you, I don’t go anywhere with Karen Page and as for Mr Urich was it? Well I’m afraid I’m not acquainted with him but I do know of his work, I was especially fond of his piece on Union Allied.” You told him, watching as he shifted in his seat, hating that he wasn’t getting what he wanted out of you.

“Well as a precaution I’ve already had them dealt with.” You felt your blood run cold at that, not sure if it was just a bluff or whether Karen and Ben really were dead.

“What do you want with me, Mr Wesley?” You asked, shifting in your seat and feeling blood trickle from your wrists.

“What do I want?” He asked back, raising an eyebrow at you.

“You said yourself that I don’t leave this room alive and yet here I am, still alive. I’d be dead if you didn’t want something, so tell me what do you want?”

You didn’t know how long you’d been here now but you knew you didn’t have much time left before Wesley realised that you weren’t giving him whatever he needed. You needed to buy yourself time, time for Matt to do something from the outside and time for you to free yourself from the restraints and find a way out of here.

“I did say you won’t leave this room alive but perhaps that wasn’t true. You’re determined, skilled and you could be a worthy ally.” Wesley told you and this time you couldn’t control your facial expressions as you raised your eyebrows at him with a scoff before realisation set on your face.

“Fisk doesn’t know,” You said with a laugh, “you haven’t told him I went to see his mom.” It wasn’t a question and you watched as Wesley's eyes narrowed as you laughed again in disbelief.

“He doesn’t know you’re here.” You realised and you fought not to let your eyes flicker over to where Wesley had left the gun on the table again.

You rotated your wrists, feeling the blood that was rushing out of the cuts, almost got it.

“He does not,” Wesley forced out through a fake smile. “And he doesn’t have to know you were involved, should you agree.”

“You want me to work for that man? The man who wants to see Hell’s Kitchen, the real Hell’s Kitchen, burn to the ground? I think I’ll take a pass on that offer.” You said, trying to keep the pain off your face as you pulled at your wrist, feeling whatever was holding them to the chair cut deeply into your hand, just below your thumbs.

“Mr Fisk loves this city,” Wesley told you, “Me, I don’t care for it much though, the crush of the unwashed garbage stacked on the sidewalk, the air that seems to adhere to your skin, the layer of filth you can never completely wash away but Mr Fisk he loves this city and I would do anything to help him accomplish his goals. The only thing that comes close to his love of this city is perhaps the love he has for his mother. So I will give you one final chance, pick a side.”

As Wesley was talking, distracting himself, you bit your lip and with a harsh tug managed to free your hands. They bled and ached but you knew you had one chance and you couldn’t mess this up.

As his speech came to an end you quickly reached out and grabbed the gun, aiming it at him, pushing yourself out of the chair and standing up, looking around the room without taking your eyes off of the man opposite you who looked shocked before he relaxed his face.

“You really believe I’d bring a loaded gun in here?” He asked you with a raised eyebrow.

You jutted your chin out as you clicked the safety off, fingers on the trigger.

“Yeah, I really do.” You said, tone hard as you swallowed around the lump in your throat trying not to show him how scared you are.

“I promise you, Y/N, there are no bullets in that weapon so you might as well just drop it,” Wesley told you, trying to look bored.

“Not happening,” you told him with a huff of laughter, taking a step away from the table and watching as he went to stand. “One move and I pull the trigger.”

Matt lost count of how many people he’d punched and threatened that night, becoming more and more desperate as the minutes ticked by. Eventually he found somebody, who knew somebody who heard about a place Fisk had.

Matt practically flew over to the location, bounding across roofs and leaping over gates and a few blocks away he heard a voice causing him to pause and tilt his head as he listened to the words.

“I did say you won’t leave this room alive but perhaps that wasn’t true. You’re determined, skilled and you could be a worthy ally.” No doubt that was Wesley, Fisk’s right hand man.

Matt felt the fury coursing through his veins as he went to move again but was frozen in place as he heard you.

“Fisk doesn’t know,” He heard you say in disbelief before you laughed, “you haven’t told him I went to see his mom.”

You’d gone to see Fisk’s mom? Matt finally started moving again, quicker than ever as he thought about all the ways he was going to kill you himself once he finally got you back.

As he ran across rooftops he continued listening to your conversation, fear spreading through him, scared Wesley would kill you at any moment, terrified he’d be too late.

Just as he made his way down the fire escape he heard the sound of the safety clicking off a gun and felt his blood run cold. He quickly but quietly made his way over to a window, climbing through it and making his way over to the only door in the room, thankful that there were only two heartbeats.

“One move and I pull the trigger.”

Wesley clearly wasn’t afraid as he stood up and took a step towards you.

Matt was quicker though and had Wesley on the floor just before you pulled the trigger, once, twice, three times. He didn’t look over to you as he made quick work of punching Wesley several more times than needed in order to knock him out and only then did he stand and turn to you.

You were still standing there with the gun raised, both hands clutching it. You felt like all the blood had drained from your face as tears filled your eyes and you let out a panting breath as you stared ahead, not even noticing the Man in the Mask until he was in front of you and placing his hands over yours.

“Hey,” He said, soft and low, “You didn’t kill him.”

Matt felt his heart ache as he listened to you gasp for breath, your heart beating so fast Matt was worried it’d be right out of your chest. He heard you choke on a sob as the tears fell down your face uncontrollably and he could smell the blood from your wrists.

“Look at him, Y/N/N, you didn’t kill him.”

You did as the Mask said, looking over at him and choking out a relieved sob as you let the man take the gun out of your hands slowly and placed it on the table before he turned back to you and pulled you into his chest, thoughts of secret identities out of the window as he felt you against him, sobbing into his chest.

“You’re good, I’ve got you Y/N, you did good.” He continued to murmur praise until you had your breathing under control and pushed away from him to rub your eyes and you sniffed.

“You ok?” He asked softly.

But you didn’t answer. Instead you looked up at him with furrowed brows and calculating eyes, tilting your head slightly because even without the Man in the Mask using your name, how many times had you been held against that chest, how many nights had you spent curled up against that chest?

Your mouth opened with a silent gasp as you looked up at him in disbelief before you lifted your hands, grimacing at the blood caking your wrists and fingers before you rested them on the edge of the mask.

Matt tensed, his own hands coming up to rest on your arms, not wanting to touch your wrists. He cursed himself for not being more careful, cursed himself for completely disregarding his identity but you were safe and that had been the most important thought in his head.

He felt you shift under him and he let you pull the mask off of his face, listened to you huff of disbelief as you stared up at him without saying anything. Moments passing in silence before Matt spoke.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” He began but you cut him off by wrapping your arms around him, tighter than you had before and began sobbing into his chest again.

Matt froze, unsure of what was happening because out of all the outcomes he had pictured over you finding out he was the Man in the Mask this reaction was never one of them.

“I knew you’d find me.” You whispered against his chest and Matt’s heart fluttered at the words that were spoken with such sincerity.

“I always will.” He promised as he let his hand come up to rest on the back of your head, holding you close until you had calmed down again. “We have to get out of here.” He told you as he gestured towards Wesley.

“Thank you for getting here in time.” You told him quietly and Matt had no words for that, so he just kissed your hair before he pulled away and grabbed the gun that was covered in your prints.

It wasn’t long before you and Matt got back to his apartment. There were barely any words spoken between the two of you as you made your way back but Matt’s hand rested in yours, his thumb gently brushing against the skin that wasn’t cut.

“Take a seat,” He told you, gesturing to the sofa as he grabbed the first aid kit.

He cleaned the cuts as gently as he could, whispering apologies as you winced against his touch and didn’t speak until he was wrapping your wrists.

“What were you thinking?” He asked softly, causing you to hum questionly at him. “Going after his mother.” He clarified and heard your heart speed up as you stared at him.

“How do you know I went after his mom?” You asked him, pulling back slightly.

“I heard you and Wesley talking,” He told you quietly, finally realising this is when the other shoe dropped and you gave him the reaction he was expecting.

“You heard that and you waited until I had the gun to come in?” Your voice was shaky as you stared questioningly down at him.

“No,” Matt said, clearing his throat as he sat back on his knees, “I heard you from two blocks away.”

“Two blocks?” You asked, watching as he nodded. “Impossible.”

Matt felt his lips twitch into a smile at your statement but quickly dropped it as he began to explain himself.

“It’s true, I heard him tell you that you could be an ally, work for Fisk and I heard you tell him exactly what he could do with that offer.” Despite everything Matt couldn’t help the pride he felt for you, how well you’d held your own against Wesley.

“How could you have possibly heard that from two blocks away?” You asked him, thoughts running wild.

“You know how I told you about the accident,” He said, gesturing vaguely up to his eyes and he waited for you to nod before he carried on, “It did more than just blind me, Y/N. It gave me these…abilities. Suddenly it was like, I don’t know, I was blind but I was seeing the world differently, I could hear everything, I could smell everything.”

“What does that mean, you can hear everything? You heard a conversation two blocks away, what else can you hear?” Confusion and fear were the two main emotions you were feeling right now and they only got worse as Matt carried on talking.

“I can hear more than two blocks away, I would have heard you sooner but I was more focused on getting there than listening. I can,” Matt began but cut himself off as he remembered Foggy’s reaction to him being able to hear a heartbeat.

“Matt,” You prompted gently, hesitating before taking his hand in yours.

“I can hear a heartbeat from across the room,” He confessed quietly, hearing your own get quicker and quicker. “Helps determine threats in the room or when I need information I know if they’re being honest.”

“You know when people are lying?” You asked, voice small as you thought back to all the times you hadn’t been honest with Matt, “You knew every time I was lying to you and you never said anything?”

“Yeah.” He told you honestly, his own eyes welling up with tears.

“Matt,” You breathed out but nothing else came out.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He managed around the sudden lump in his throat.

“I’ve heard about what the Man in the Mask does, Matt. Are you-” You started but had to pause to push down more tears, “Are you really blind?” You finally managed to ask.

“I’m blind,” He told you, not going down the world on fire route he had with Foggy because that didn’t end well, “but my other senses, they allow me to see more than any seeing person could ever hope to.”

You let out a shaky breath as you nodded, taking in his words. Yes, you were shocked and you were so, so scared for him but ultimately you were really glad it was him in that mask tonight because you don’t think you would have managed without him.

“Does anyone else know?” You asked him quietly.

“Foggy, he-uh he found out recently,” He told you with a nod, “and um-Claire knows, she’s a nurse and she found out when I landed in her dumpster, half dead. She’s been patching me up ever since.”

You nodded too, glad, relieved, that Matt had somebody looking out for him. You were shocked Foggy had only recently found out but then again you knew Matt and you knew the guilt he carried around and that made it easy to figure out why he hadn’t told either of you.

“I’m really glad it’s you in that mask.” You told him quietly and he heard your heartbeat settle into that steady rhythm that never failed to ground him.

He couldn’t help but smile up at you, huffing out a small laugh as he did.

“You’re taking this better than I thought you would.” He said, shifting so he was sitting next to you on the sofa instead of on the floor.

“I nearly killed a man tonight, finding out your Daredevil is second on my list of things that I should probably freak out over.” You told him, leaning into him and relaxing as his hand cupped your cheek.

“You did good.” He told you again, leaning down and giving you plenty of time to move away before he brushed his lips against yours.

You happily kissed him back, soft and slow, feeling the stress melt from you as you did.

“You did good,” He repeated as the two of you pulled away, him resting his forehead against yours causing you to smile.

“I knew you’d find me.” You told him and he smiled as he listened to the comforting drum of your heartbeat.

“Always,” He promised, “C’mon, you need to sleep.”

It wasn’t long before the two of you were wrapped up in silk sheets, your head tucked under Matt’s as he held you close, not planning on letting you out of his sight any time soon.

_____________

Matt Murdock Taglist (Link in bio to add yourself!)- @janesofia7, @cinderellacauseshebroke, @black-rose-29, @runawaywithmyghost, @ppgrayson, @alexxavicry, @battinsonn, @lokismidnight, @benhardyslut, @baconlover001, @jasontoddthezombie, @qfton, @buckysnumberonegirl @lazysheepperfection, @parkershoco, @call-me-a-fool, @father-violet, @lizamango, @urbestgrrl, @lazysheepperfection, @lucyysthings, @morganaah, @sylvies4ever, @taylordidsomthingbad, @multifandomgirllol, @lucyysthings

Always

It was rare that you used the spare key Matt had given you all those months ago, in fact you could count the number of times you’d had to use it on one hand and all of them had to do with your boyfriend’s secret identity. It was the same reason as to why you were using after countless calls gone unanswered and news sources reported that Daredevil had been seen attempting to rescue children from a human trafficking ring but it had turned nasty leaving no survivors.

Your blood turned cold as you listened to the news and you called Matt more times than you could count before sighing and shoving your shoes on, making your way over to his apartment.

You were quiet as you entered the apartment, not wanting to wake him up if he had managed to fall asleep. You’d watched him over the last few days, watched as his movements became sluggish and it took a few calls of his name before his attentioned settled onto whoever was trying to talk to him.

As you stepped further into the apartment you frowned as you stayed the Daredevil suit discarded on the floor, obviously ripped off hastily like Matt couldn’t stand to be in it a second longer than he had to be. You walked over to it, picking it up and noticed the blood staining certain parts of it before you lay it over the back of the couch and listened.

You heard the sound of the shower running but under it you heard something else, something that sounded like…Matt was crying.

Your eyes widened as you walked over to stand in the doorway of the bathroom, the door had been left open slightly and you listened to the cries became louder frowning to yourself as you decided whether Matt would want you here or not but decided to throw caution to the wind as you walked further into the room.

You could see Matt’s head resting against the wall as water ran down his body, mixing with blood to turn the water red. His whole body looked tense as you used his arms to prop himself up against the wall and you could just about see tremors running through them, causing his shoulder blades to twitch.

Your frown turned into a sad smile as you slipped out of your shoes before you pulled your clothes off, not wanting to get them wet and knowing that afterwards you could slip into one of Matt’s shirts. It was a testament to just how tired he was when he didn’t acknowledge any of the small sounds you made, startling as your fingers brushed against his shoulder before you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly from behind.

“It’s not your fault.” You told him, the words muffled as they were spoke into his back but clear enough that he heard them, his body something going more tense that it had been before a sobbed brokenly made its way past his lips and you felt your heart ache, hating that you could do nothing but try to hold the man together as he fell a part.

Tears were washed away by the water pouring from the shower head and you didn’t know how long you stood there listening to Matt’s cries. They were the kind of cries that made anybody who heard them want to fall apart, filled with the heavy burden of the weight he carried, the impossible situations he found himself in. They were the kind of cries that went straight to your heart and you wanted to do anything you could to fix the situation, to take it away, take those cries away.

But you couldn’t, all you could do was be there for the man as he broke down, cursing and blaming himself as he ran through scenarios about how things could have been different, how if he made a different move here or there then those children would still be alive.

Matt didn’t consciously turned around but he found himself twisting around and burying his head in your shoulder and you didn’t hesitate as you brought your hand up to run it comfortingly through wet hair, keeping up your steady stream of reassurance, promising that he wasn’t to blame for the events of the night.

Matt listened to your voice letting it wash over him and soothe him without registering the words you were saying, he knew you were wrong, he could see every scenario where things could have been different but he also knew it was too late to go over what ifs.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” You said softly once the water started turning cold, shutting it off and gently guiding Matt out of the shower, holding a towel out to him before drying him off yourself when he didn’t move.

You wrapped your arm in his and walked out of the bathroom, guiding him into the bedroom and sitting him down on the bed before making your way over to the closest and pulling out two pairs of underwear and a shirt for you to wear.

You made quick work of putting his clothes on yourself before you walked over to him, smiling as he held his hand out and got dressed.

“Lay down,” You ordered softly, pulling the blanket back and smiling sadly as he climbed in without a word. “Can I get you anything?” You asked him, watching as he shook his head before tugging the blanket down and gestured for you to lay down with him.

You quickly shifted and did as he asked, smiling into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly against him. From the close you could hear his breathing, it was still shuddering and sounded like he was forcing tears down.

You let your fingers trace meaningless shapes against his stomach, avoiding the cuts that he had patched up and felt the tension begin to slowly ease from him as he relaxed enough to start to fall into a light sleep.

“Thank you for being here,” He murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your head before he let himself give into sleep.

“Always, Matt.” You promised the sleeping man, determined to keep it as you cuddled closer to him, hating that he put so much pressure on himself, focusing solely on the bad things he could prevent rather than all the good things he did. You knew it was your job to remind him of those times when things got bad. “Always.”

_____________

Matt Murdock Taglist (Link in bio to add yourself!) @janesofia7, @cinderellacauseshebroke, @black-rose-29, @runawaywithmyghost, @ppgrayson, @alexxavicry, @battinsonn, @lokismidnight, @benhardyslut, @baconlover001, @jasontoddthezombie, @qfton, @buckysnumberonegirl @lazysheepperfection, @parkershoco, @call-me-a-fool, @father-violet, @lizamango, @urbestgrrl, @lazysheepperfection, @lucyysthings, @morganaah, @sylvies4ever, @taylordidsomthingbad, @multifandomgirllol, @lucyysthings , @sadblueberry721, @freeshavocadoooo, @writeroutoftime, @loki-laufeysons-wife, @am-wd-ma, @srhxpci, @jelliebeanss, @black-cat-hardy, @mrslizzyolsen, @kosmic-klouds (sorry if you've already seen this, tumblr messed up:))

Lucky

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Requsted - No, just wanted to write for Matt because we've finally got him back

Prompts -  'I'll be there to patch you up.'

You thought the day your whole life had changed was the day you woke up with superpowers, strange abilities that allowed you to not only move things with your mind but also let you move faster and jump higher, abilities you’d realised and nearly had a heart attack over when you ended up on top of your building and nearly ran into a wall at the new speed. Not only that but you always seemed to know the next move your opponent would make, a perk of your powers that you hadn’t discovered you had until your first fight which you had won. At first you figured you were just lucky but after testing it out it seemed you couldn’t lose, though there had been times when you’d been up against more than one attacker at a time and were still working on focusing on more than one attack.

You remembered the day so clearly, waking up feeling strange, head bursting and your entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out. You remembered wanting the bottle of water on the other side of your room and then suddenly being slapped in the face with it. You remembered the fear and the excitement, you remembered thinking this was going to be the most life changing day of your life.

And it was but only partly. If you hadn’t had that day then you never would have had the other most life changing day. If you were to give people the choice between these two days and ask them which one was bigger, more life altering, they would have said, without a moment's hesitation, the day you got powers. You were different though, you loved your powers but loved them more because it led to meeting him.

It had been a chance meeting, the two of you both just happened to be in the same place at the same time. At first he had been annoyed at your presence but that hadn’t put you off, you had been tracking these people too, you knew how dangerous they were and how the man wrapped in black wouldn’t be able to take them alone.

The sigh he gave had you grinning at him as he relented and the two of you worked together like you’d been doing it your whole lives, fighting back to back, moving so in sync with one another that the others didn’t see you coming until it was too late. You could tell, after you had all the gang members tied and unconscious, that the man was ready to fight you on what to do with them, clearly not used to anyone agreeing with his methods but you cut him off before he could really start. 

You remembered his silence before he nodded towards you, telling you he would take care of it. You knew a dismissal when you heard one but hung around anyway, not wanting to leave just yet. You had just helped take down one of the worst gangs Hell’s Kitchen had and yet you stood nervously to the side, a question on the tip of your tongue but too hesitant to ask.

Eventually the man turned to you, his full attention on you and you were glad for the darkness of the night as you were sure you were blushing, who could blame you? A few hours with this man had you intrigued. His head tilted slightly, like he was hearing something you couldn’t and maybe he was, everyone had something these days. He had told you the police were coming, that the two of you should put as much distance between yourselves and the warehouse as possible. 

“Wait,” you had called out to him when he turned away. He had paused for a moment before turning his head to you, “we made a pretty good team back there.” 

“I guess we did.” He chuckled and you couldn’t help but grin at him. “I’ve never met a fighter like you, you didn’t miss a single hit.”

“What can I say, I’m pretty lucky.” You didn’t want him to leave but now even you could hear the sirens and knew he was right, you both had to go. “We should do this again.”

“I’m sure we’ll meet again,” He had told you and you wished he was right, pleaded with anyone that would listen that this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him. “See you around, Lucky.”

The memory still made you grin, the name, terrible as it was, still in place despite the fact that after months of knowing each other you had finally told him your name. He hadn’t shared his and after knowing the man for so long you hadn’t expected him to but hearing your name fall from his lips was the best thing you’d ever heard.

It hadn’t taken more than a month until your paths crossed again and from there, after a few more run-ins with each other, you started to work together. It began with you telling the Devil about a group that was trafficking girls and then he came to you about a notorious gang that had moved in from Brooklyn to Hell’s Kitchen. That particular one had taken a few weeks of working alongside each other and you were glad for it, not only because it led to the arrest of the gang, but because you got to spend days at a time with the man, learning things about him that he usually tried to keep guarded. 

It was safe to say in the months you’d known the masked man you had fallen for him quickly, from that very first night you’d known there was something about him, something intriguing telling you that you had to get to know him. You’d watched as he grew more confident, watched him go from doubting his decisions to being sure that he was doing the right thing. You’d watched as he left behind his black, defenceless outfit and replaced it for an outfit that was fit for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. You watched as he became more and more comfortable with you until it was like the two of you had been friends since childhood.

The night started like any other, it was fairly quiet and you had no gangs to take down just yet so instead you sat on a rooftop, listening for any signs of trouble. You didn’t turn your head when you heard a soft thud to your right or when footsteps made their way over to you. After all this time you still didn’t know how he managed to find you wherever you were and whenever you asked him he would just smile at you, refusing to share his secrets. 

You hadn’t expected the Devil tonight, you knew he was working on taking down Fisk and hated that he wanted you out of it. He had begged you to stay away from Fisk, warned you of what a man like him was capable of, of what he had seen him do. You wanted to help the Devil but had to admit you were scared of Fisk, not only because of the Devil’s words but other people had plenty to say that all seemed to confirm what the Devil said.

It was only when the man didn’t say anything after a few moments that you turned to face him, a curse falling from your lips as you took in his busted lip and the way he was clutching at his side, blood on his hands despite the suit that was supposed to protect him though it looked worse for wear right now.

“What the hell happened?” You asked, already on your knees beside him and pulling his hand away to see the damage for yourself.

“You should see the other guys.” The man managed to choke out, somehow still managing to give you a charming grin despite the blood leaking from his lower lip.

You didn’t do more than shoot him an unimpressed look causing him to grin wider and cause more blood to pool from the cut. You manage to look through the damage made to the suit and saw a deep slash on the Devil’s side.

“It’s pretty bad,” You told him with a wince, knowing it was going to need some stitches. “Give me your cell, I’ll call your nurse.”

“She’s out of town.” The Devil chuckled though it cut off as he coughed, some blood leaking from his mouth as he did. “I’ll be fine.” He tried to assure you and your unimpressed expression didn’t shift as you let out a scoff.

“Sure you will. Come on, I’ll patch you up but I can’t promise it’ll be good.” You stood first, holding a hand out to help him up but he made no effort to move so with a sigh you focused and almost lost concentration when a laugh fell from your lips at the startled noise that left him as you lifted him from the ground with nothing but your mind, quickly wrapping him around you to help him stay upright.

Since jumping from the building wasn’t an option with the Devil’s current state you slowly made your way from the rooftop to the ground floor before having to practically carry him back to your apartment. Thankfully it wasn’t too far a walk but by the time you were putting the key in the door you were exhausted, sweat pooling on your forehead with the effort of carrying the man’s weight.

You got him settled on your bed and darted around the apartment, medical supplies never where they were supposed to be but eventually you were back in the bedroom, carefully removing the suit from his body which took a lot of effort on your half as the Devil himself just lay there, letting out groans of pain as you moved his body. 

“I’m sorry.” You said softly and even in his pained state he managed to send you a smile. You let your hand lift to his face, thumb brushing just below the cut of his lip causing him to wince. “I need to know if you hurt your head.” 

You wouldn’t take the mask off him, not without permission, not unless it was life or death and you knew he knew as much but you didn’t want to leave him with a head injury, if he was hurt you’d just have to figure out a way to work around the mask.

“Not my head,” He assured you, his own hand coming up to rest on yours, his thumb gently brushing across your knuckles. “Just my side.”

“You’re sure?” You asked and the Devil nodded causing you to sigh in relief before pulling your supplies closer and getting to work.

As you started in on the stitches the man winced causing you to freeze, you hadn’t had much experience stitching anyone up, a few times when you were in a real bind you’d had to stitch yourself but never another person.

“I’m sorry, I’ve only ever done this on myself.” You told him, watching as he groaned in pain. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“You’re terrible at this.” The man told you through gritted teeth as you were halfway through the stitches, you wincing each time he did, not meaning to cause him more pain but you needed to stitch him up.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the Devil, quit complaining.” You told him, causing him to chuckle, the sound quickly being taken over by a groan as his side hurt even more.

“Matt,” He managed to say once the pain passed and you were so focused on his stitches that you almost missed the single word but when it registered your head shot up causing the needle to tug painfully at Matt’s skin causing him to cry in pain.

“I’m sorry!” You apologised for what felt like the fiftieth time. “I’m really sorry but in my defence that one was your fault.”

The man let out a sound that was a mix of a laugh and sob and you couldn’t help but huff as you finished the last few stitches, the man wincing his way through them. 

“So, Matt?” You said once you’d pulled away, looking down at the gauze covering the fresh stitches, hoping you’d never have to do that again.

“Y/N,” he replied, your name easily falling from his lips as he shifted on the bed, reaching for you. 

You let Matt take your hand in his, let him pull you down next to him on his uninjured side and tried desperately to slow your beating heart, knowing full well that the Dev- that Matt could hear it clear as day.

Matt lifted his hand to your face, knuckles gently grazing cheek before stopping at your lips, his thumb gently brushing your lower lip as you looked into the eyes of the mask.

“Thank you for patching me up.” He said softly, feeling the way your lips pulled into a smile. “Even if you did do an awful job at it.”

“Hey!” You protested with a soft laugh, knowing full well he was right. “See if I patch you up again the next time you come crying to me, Matt.”

At the sound of his name from you his smile widened and it was times like this you wished the mask wasn’t in your way. His smile was beautiful and you wished you could see the rest of his face, wished you could memorise and trace each feature.

“What happened tonight anyway?” You asked him quietly, knowing that it was Fisk related and Matt was always so hesitant to tell you about Fisk, not wanting you involved with it.

Matt shook his head, silent for long enough that you thought he was going to ignore the question entirely.

“I had a run in,” He told you, leaning down and letting his masked forehead rest against yours, close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips. “With Fisks’ men. I found out what I needed though, it should help with taking him down.”

“That day can’t come soon enough.” You muttered, smiling as Matt chuckled. “You’re doing the right thing, I’m proud of you.”

Matt was silent again, pulling back a small bit as if to see you better before he leaned back in again, this time closing the distance between the two of you, slotting your lips together as he kissed you softly.

You didn’t hesitate to kiss back, having been waiting for this moment for so long. Weeks after you’d met him you knew you had a crush on him but figured nothing would come of it, now you intended to savour this moment.

“Thank you.” Matt murmured against your lips as he pulled back, resting your foreheads together again and you reached a hand up, letting your fingers brush against his jawline, pulling him back in for another kiss.

When you pulled away Matt winced and your eyes fell to his lips, seeing blood pool at the cut there and you were quick to apologise but Matt cut you off with a grin that didn’t help the cut.

“It was worth it.” He told you causing you to roll your eyes before glancing down to the blanket that had gathered towards the end of the bed and you used your mind to bring the blanket up, watching as it wrapped itself around you and Matt causing the man to chuckle and pull you into his arms, feeling his eyes getting heavier as the exhaustion took over the adrenaline.

You smiled as you heard Matt’s breathing begin to even out, your own eyes falling shut on their own accord. You leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his jaw causing him to smile softly down at you, tightening his grip on you slightly.

“Goodnight Y/N.” He murmured, tucking you further under his chin.

“Goodnight Matt.” You replied just as soft, a wave of happiness running through you as you let yourself drift off in his arms.

__________

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evermore

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Prompt - ‘And I couldn't be sure I had a feeling so peculiar this pain wouldn't be for evermore.’

You and Matt had been sitting together on his rooftop, neither of you donned your costumes, content to just sit together under the mid-morning sun, your hands playing with Matt’s and sharing soft kisses. It wasn’t until you pulled away that you saw, off in the distance, a spaceship suddenly appear, the round ship causing your eyes to widen as you listened to Matt and headed downstairs into the apartment, switching on the TV you insisted he have and watching the events play out.

The Avengers, or whatever was left of the Avengers honestly you weren’t sure who was a member and who wasn’t anymore, seemed to have it covered. There was footage of a wizard or two who you didn’t know, Tony Stark was there and you recognised Bruce Banner, then there were the aliens. Whilst there was no sound you could see one of them talking, Tony Stark not looking impressed and cutting him off before the wizards used their powers and suddenly they were fighting.

“Hey, is that Spidey?” You grinned at Matt when you saw a familiar figure swing into frame and Matt raised an eyebrow at you before shaking his head.

“Isn’t this above Spider-Man’s paygrade?” Matt groaned and you laughed before turning back to the screen.

Both of you knew Spider-Man fairly well at this point, neither you or Matt had shared who you were under your masks and neither had Spidey but sometimes he swung by the Kitchen and he was always fun to fight alongside.

You continued to watch the screen, narrating what was going on as it happened, laughing about how insane the camera people were, literal aliens were tearing the streets of New York apart and they were still getting the money shot.

“Wait…” You said, sitting straighter in your seat and leaning forward, Matt raising an eyebrow as he waited for you to continue. “Spider-Man’s on the spaceship…and the spaceship’s gone.”

“Spider-Man was on it?” Matt asked, feeling a wave of worry for the kid because at the end of the day that’s all he was, a kid who put way too much responsibility on his shoulders.

“Iron Man’s heading up too so he should be good.” You said, leaning back into the sofa and letting out a deep breath before cuddling into Matt’s chest, his arm going around your shoulders.

“Aliens.” You grimaced, years of living in New York, years of playing vigilante and you still didn’t think you’d ever get used to everything that happened here.

“Let’s just hope they don’t come back.” Matt chuckled as he pulled you closer, placing a kiss to your head and you nodded before reaching over to turn the TV off, not needing to see reruns of the fight.

It was only a few hours later, you and Matt were back on his rooftop, Matt was talking about the people of New York and what they were doing. It was amazing how everybody was able to simply snap back and carry on with their lives like aliens hadn’t invaded this morning. It was truly ridiculous really and you couldn’t help but smile as you cuddled into Matt who was telling you about a business meeting happening right next to the clean up where cars had been tossed around the streets.

“There’s a school field trip, not too far away, a bunch of kids at MOMA still talking about the spaceship whilst their teacher tries to get them to focus on the trip.” Matt told you as he ran his fingers through your hair, yours trailing along his stomach. “He’s not having much luck.”

“Aliens invade the Earth and everything continues on as normal.” You laughed softly and felt more than heard Matt’s chuckle as it rumbled in his chest. “I think I’ll stick to criminals and the occasional ninja.”

“Not ready to take on the aliens yet? Join the Avengers?” Matt asked and you turned to muffle a laugh into his chest causing his smile to widen.

“I think I’ll stick to our little corner of Hell’s Kitchen, leave the aliens to someone else.” You said because as much as you liked fighting at Spider-Man’s side, especially on the few occasions you’d joined in a bigger fight, you couldn’t stomach the thought of going up against aliens, against powers you knew nothing about.

“Yeah,” Matt sighed softly, tilting your head back gently with the hand in your hair. “I like our little corner.”

You smiled into the kiss as Matt leaned down and you met him half way, the kiss wasn’t hurried, there was no urgency in it. It was soft and lazy, both of you taking your time, not in any rush, both content in each other’s arms.

It was only when Matt pulled away with a frown did you feel a sense of urgency, not quite sure why yet but if Matt was making that face then something was definitely wrong. He stayed silent for a few moments, crease apearing in between his eyebrows as he tilted his head, listening for something you couldn’t hear and you hoped it was just him deciding if a situation needed Daredevil’s intervention.

But when Matt shot up into a sitting position, forcing you up with him from your spot on his chest, you panicked. Matt’s face had gone pale, paler than you’d ever seen with the only exception being when he’d lost too much blood. His head tilted further to the side like he was straining to hear something before his mouth fell open with a silent gasp and you could see his eyes widen.

You trusted Matt’s judgement and for him to look this scared, this worried and confused then you knew you should be scared too.

“Matt, what’s happening?” You asked and it seemed to pull Matt’s attention back to you, shaking his head almost in disbelief but he didn’t answer for a long moment. You could tell he wasn’t ignoring your question, could see the way his mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. “Matt please, you’re scaring me.”

“Something’s wrong.” He told you, his head shifting in every direction like he was hearing too much at once. “The city, it’s…”

In all the time you’d known Matt, from first time meeting him when you were both hidden under your masks to the time you’d spent together as Matt and Y/N, you’d never seen him like this before.

It was terrifying.

“Matt, please tell me what’s happening.” It had to be the aliens, it was the only explanation but you couldn’t see any giant spaceships, no aliens ascending from the sky. As you glanced around it just looked like a regular day.

“It’s, I don’t know, it’s like people are disappearing. I can’t hear- Y/N, I can’t hear their heartbeats, they’re just gone, they’re going out.” Matt told you, turning his attention back to you as his voice trailed into a whisper and you stared back at him with wide eyes.

“What do you mean, gone?” You asked as a wave of anxiety flooded through you and Matt shook his head, turning back towards the streets as he listened.

“I don’t know, I just-” Matt began but cut himself off, his head snapping around to face you, wearing an expression you’d only ever seen once on his face.

It was the expression he wore when you had been shot, he could hear everything and he barely got you to Claire before your breaths came few and far between. Claire had barely managed to bring you back to him but you still remembered that haunted look on his face and swore you’d be more careful because you never wanted to see it again.

And now here it was and you didn’t know why.

Not until you looked down anyway, a strange sensation running through your body and you let out a panicked cry as you saw your hand breaking off and separating into tiny specks of dust.

“No, no, no..” Matt’s voice had you snapping your head up to look at him, tears stinging at your eyes and you could see them pooling in his.

“Matt, what’s happening to me?” You asked, the tears slipping down your cheeks and Matt let out a choked sobbed, pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly like he could keep you in one piece. “Matt, I’m scared.”

“No, no, shh, you’re ok, you’re ok.” Matt murmured, his lips finding their way to your forehead, letting them linger there and you could feel his tears wetting your skin.

“Matt, plea…” Your voice trailed off into nothing and Matt was slumping over, you suddenly not in his arms and your breathing, your sobs, your heartbeat was just gone, like it hadn’t been there to begin.

The tears fell past Matt’s eyes, heartbroken sobs leaving him as he stayed hunched over on the roof of his building and as he cried he heard so many in the city doing the exact same thing whilst more and more heartbeats faded into nothing.

The Blip.

That’s what they were calling the damn thing. The thing that took you had a name and Matt despised it.

It had been eight months, eight months since that warm, sunny day in spring, eight months since you had been taken from him. Now it was November, the sky was grey and Matt could still hear the fear in your voice as you pleaded with him. Eight months without you, eight months where he had become nothing but a shell of himself.

Eight months of replaying every memory he had of you because the thought of forgetting you sent an ache through his heart. Eight months of thinking about all the words he should have said to you, words he would never get to say to you.

Matt stood by the window, the weather seemed to match his mood. He could hear the rain smacking against the window and the pavement, could hear the rumble of thunder, could feel the coldness on his skin but he didn’t care.

He’d been numb since that day all those months ago. At first he put on the Daredevil suit every day and found bad guys to take his anger, his pain, out on. Frank’s words had run heavy in his head, letting him know he was only one bad day away from being him and Matt knew he was right, he just didn’t think the bad day that would push him over the edge would be losing you.

It had seemed so unimaginable months ago that it never even crossed his mind. When you put on your mask you were always with him, fighting side by side, he always had your back so he knew you’d be safe.

But now you were gone and Matt was left alone. It had been months since he put the suit on, it didn’t feel right anymore, like it suddenly didn’t fit but he knew it was because you weren’t there with him. Daredevil had worked alone for so long before you showed up but then you had refused to leave and he found he actually liked working with you.

Matt couldn’t even remember why he used to put on the suit, couldn’t remember what he used to fight for. Everything seemed so pointless without you. How was he expected to just go on about his life? How could he pretend that he was ok when he felt like a piece of him had been ripped away?

He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t fake it until it didn’t hurt anymore because it would always hurt, he knew the pain and heartbreak and the rage he felt would be for evermore.

Somehow five years passed, five long painful years. Matt was surprised he was still alive in all honesty because he had completely lost himself. Considering how reluctant he had been to let you into his life at all back in those early days, he had to hand it to you, you really had wormed your way deep into his life, entwining yourself around every part of it and making it impossible for him to move on.

Not that I ever tried to move on, Matt mused to himself as he walked the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. He was practically catching his death, the cold was bitingly chilly and the rain was almost painful but still he hadn’t bothered to grab a coat on his way out of the door. He just needed to be out of the apartment.

What had once been an empty place had been filled with lots of little trinkets and all the things that made it feel like a home. Sometimes Matt thought about moving, there was too much you in the apartment but ultimately he never did, he couldn’t leave behind something that was a part of you.

It had been five years and Matt hated himself for forgetting the sound of your laughter, he hated that he knew your favourite song but couldn’t remember how you sounded as you sung it whilst dancing around his kitchen, he hated that his sheets and his sweaters didn’t smell like you anymore.

It had been five years since you died and five years since Matt Murdock became a ghost, still alive but really he had died that day with you. Some days he thought about doing it, about ending his pain but he could never do it, catholic guilt and all that.

He knew he’d feel this loss until he took his last breath and some days he longed to put the suit back on, to pick a fight and not fight like he used to, to let the other guy get the hits in until Matt felt himself slipping away from the world.

It was tempting but he couldn’t bring himself to do that either. So instead he was doomed to this life, for the pain to last for evermore.

He was so lost in thought that he missed it at first. It wasn’t until he bumped into somebody that definitely hadn’t been there moments before that he took notice, his eyes widening, breath catching as he heard it.

Heartbeat after heartbeat, it was almost overwhelming and Matt couldn’t stop the strangled sob that left him. More and more heartbeats returned, Matt could hear every single one of them, could hear the excited yells and confused murmurs.

It had been five years, five long, lonely, heartbreakingly exhausting years since you died. Five years since Matt Murdock last felt happy but here in the streets of Hell’s Kitchen a grin broke out across his face, tears pouring from his eyes and he didn’t hesitate to turn around.

He ran, he ran like his life depended on it because it did. As he got closer to the apartment he paused, nearly tripping himself up because there, that was a heartbeat Matt Murdock knew, one he had forgotten the sound of but now he heard it again it was hard to remember how he could have ever forgotten.

He kept running, he ran all the way up the stairs and through his apartment before he was on the roof and there you were. It was really you.

“Matt?” You asked and Matt felt his knees buckle beneath him, barely managing to hold himself upright as he forced his feet to move towards you.

He had to know you were real and when he lifted his hand and cupped your cheek he couldn’t stop the heaving sobs that escaped him and he buried his face against your neck, holding you tightly against him.

“Hey, it’s alright, you’re ok.” You murmured, rubbing your hand up and down his back whilst the other wrapped around his waist. “You’re ok, what happened?”

You didn’t know, Matt thought. He had gone through the worst five years of his life and you had no idea what had happened. Matt was going to have to be the one to explain that five years had passed without you, that the world had somehow carried on without you.

But that didn’t matter right now, Matt wasn’t sure he was capable of words at that moment. The tears and sobs weren’t slowing down but he didn’t care, it had been so long, so damn long, he never thought he’d have you back and now that you were here Matt was never letting you go again.

“Matt, baby,” You whispered, kissing his hair and pulling him closer.

You were so painfully confused, mind fuzzy and unable to remember anything. One minute it was sunny and you had been on the roof with Matt, the next it was pouring down and Matt was nowhere to be seen. You’d only been out in the rain for a few moments before Matt had burst onto the roof like a mad man, staring straight at you like you were a ghost.

“Hey baby, can we go inside, I don’t want you to get sick.” You said softly, noticing how pale Matt had been before he hid himself away in your neck. You had seen the dark circles that were practically black eyes and how gaunt his features were, it looked like you weren’t the only ghost on the roof.

Matt didn’t say anything for a long moment but then he nodded into your neck, placing a kiss to your skin causing you to shiver before he pulled away, his hand coming up to cup your cheek again and he brought your foreheads together.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He whispered brokenly and despite having no clue what was going on you felt your heart break for him.

It wasn’t long before the two of you were in dry clothes and Matt had you tucked under the covers on the bed, pulling you against his chest and holding you tightly in his arms, terrified that you’d disappear again.

“Think you can tell me what’s going on now?” You murmured as your fingers drew random shapes into his chest, from where you lay you could feel Matt’s heart hammering against his chest and though he had managed to stop the sobs there were still tears falling down his face.

It wasn’t long before you were in the same position, tears pouring down your cheeks as you held Matt close to you, heart breaking as you listened to him describe what had happened five years ago and all the time in between. Hearing how lost, how broken and lonely he was, hearing that he had been ready to join you years ago, God you were a sobbing mess by the time he was done and the two of you could do nothing but cry and hold each other close.

And yet even with the tears falling down his face Matt felt better than he had in years, somehow you were back from the dead and he would never take a single day for granted again. Matt had thought for sure the rest of his life would be filled with pain and nothing else, yet here you were and Matt knew the pain wouldn’t be for evermore.

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Sparks Fly

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Prompt - ‘I run my fingers through your hair and watch the lights go wild.’

Warnings / This fic contains smut - you can skip it if you want, you won’t miss anything!💜

Notes - Happy Speak Now month! Request a fic for any of the remaining Speak Now tracks, click my masterlist to see which songs are left!!💜

The problem with Matt Murdock was that you had known from the moment you had met him that he was a bad idea. At first he had been all pleasant smiles and soft words but once you had gotten to know him his words turned flirty and his smiles were charmingly attractive. You were glad for the fact he couldn’t see you, glad for the fact he could never witness you blush under his gaze, see as you shifted in your seat or watch the way your breath hitched when he stood too close.

Everything about Matt was a bad idea, falling for him was the worst one though. As much as that man loved flirting with you and everyone else in his general vicinity, you knew at the first sign of real feelings he would run and hide, ignoring it because he was so scared of something you didn’t understand.

You’d met Matt by chance, running into Foggy first after your boss rented out the office space opposite theirs and he invited you inside. The two of you were fast friends but meeting Matt, letting his hand wrap around yours as he introduced himself, feeling sparks between you, you had known then and there it was a bad idea to stick around Nelson and Murdock and yet after that first day you seemed to spend more time in their office than you did your own.

It went on for months, Matt oblivious to how you felt whilst you silently pined. You couldn’t count how many times you’d lost yourself in a daydream, your traitorous thoughts creating all sorts of impossible scenarios where Matt would just grab you, pull you close and kiss you until your lips were swollen and you struggled to breathe.

You knew Matt was a good person, even if he did have a reckless streak, one you’d bore witness to yourself and heard about in length from Foggy. You knew that he would never date somebody seriously, preferring to sleep around rather than stay with one person, you knew you should let go of your crush for him but it was impossible.

Some days you were convinced Matt knew how you felt. When the three of you went to a bar together after work and he sat a little too close to you, his knees brushing against yours and your arms rested against each other. You knew he couldn’t see the way you glanced at the way he sat so close, knew he couldn’t see your smile as you resisted the urge to shift close and yet you always caught a smirk on his face aimed in your direction, some flirty comment following it.

It didn’t matter because you knew for Matt it wasn’t nothing but a fun little game to flirt the night away with you. It didn’t matter how much you told yourself it was just a crush when you knew your feelings went beyond that because nothing would come from them.

“Let me walk you home.” Matt insisted like he did after every night spent at the bar. It had been over a year since you’d met him and he had never once failed to make sure you got home safe, despite your insistence that you’d be fine.

“You don’t have to.” You told him, a scripted response that Matt had come to expect in the time he’d known you and you didn’t need to see him without the red tinted glasses to see he was rolling his eyes behind them.

“I’m gonna walk you home.” He grinned at you causing you to laugh as he headed off in the direction of your apartment, you following him straight away.

Matt walked by your side, close enough that if you were brave enough you’d be able to reach out and brush your hand against his, thread your fingers together and feel his hand against yours. He was close enough that if you turned to face him and leaned up you could press your lips to his.

He was close enough to touch and yet the distance between you seemed wider than ever.

“Everything ok?” Matt asked softly, startling you out of your thoughts and you prayed that he hadn’t somehow been able to tell what you had been thinking about.

“Sorry, lost in my own head.” You chucked, hoping he’d let you brush it off and change the subject but Matt was never one for letting the people he cared about suffer, always wanting to do something to make it better.

“Seems to happen a lot.” Matt stated and you tensed slightly, Matt noticing straight away but he didn’t let it show. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

Did you know that? Sure, of course you did, you could talk to Matt about anything, anything except for the fact you were in love with him, anything expect for the fact that all you could think about was him kissing you right now on the sidewalk, how you wanted nothing more than for him to tell you that he felt the same way.

“I know.” You smiled, letting all the things you most desperately wanted to say go unsaid. “But there’s nothing to talk about.”

Matt clearly didn’t buy it if the frown on his face was anything to go by and as much as you hated putting it there, as much as you hated lying to him you knew it was easier this way. Losing Matt would hurt infinitely more than silently wishing for him.

Matt knew what was eating you up, he knew that you were as desperate for him as he was for you. If it had been anyone else, if he had met you years ago he wouldn’t have hesitated to cup your cheek and drag you in for a kiss, he wouldn’t have given a second thought to taking you to bed, he wouldn’t have wasted any time in making you his.

But it wasn’t years before, it was now and now he had Daredevil in his life. He couldn’t risk another person getting hurt because of him, he was already risking more than he’d like with Foggy knowing but you…he couldn’t risk anything happening to you because of him.

And yet he wanted you. He wanted you so bad. Hearing your heart rate speed up when he brushed his hand against yours, feeling the heat spread to your cheeks when he made a suggestive comment, hearing the way your breathing hitched when he wrapped his arm through yours, knowing you wanted him was driving him crazy.

He felt like a man starved when it came to you, barely holding back from his desires to just give in and kiss you, to feel how good you felt for him, he wanted you. He knew he had feelings for you and all he wanted to do was act on them.

The rain started to fall when you were five blocks from your apartment and began to pour down by the time you were two blocks away. Matt’s hand found yours and you felt the same familiar sparks you always seemed to feel whenever he touched you shoot through your hand.

Matt took off in a run and you had no choice but to follow after him, the two of you laughing and gasping for breath by the time you stood under the small roof at the door of your apartment complex.

The rain had stuck Matt’s suit to him, his hair flat against his head as droplets fell down his cheek and nose. You wanted to reach out and brush his face, wanted to follow the path of the rain drops and trail kisses all the way down to his lips.

Matt could hear the way your heart had sped up even more, having nothing to do with the rain and everything to do with whatever thoughts were running through your head. He wanted to know what you were thinking, wanted to give you whatever you wanted, he was torn, so close to throwing everything out the window and giving in.

The two of you went silent as you turned to each other, your eyes drawn to Matt’s lips and you watched as he ducked his head, watched as he went to lean in before you closed your eyes.

“I should go.” Matt breathed out and you bit back a huff of disappointment, letting your eyes open to look at his sad smile.

“Okay.” You murmured, debating on whether you should be the one to take the risk and close the distance between you, suddenly so sure that Matt wanted you, but you weren’t brave enough.

You knew you’d spend the rest of your life regretting that.

You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life regretting it though, even if Matt couldn’t give you what you wanted you knew he wanted at least one night with you and you’d do anything for it, anything to feel how electric Matt’s kisses were, anything to feel how good his hands running along your body could feel, anything to run your fingers through his hair to pull him into a kiss.

You watched as Matt stepped out into the rain, watched him walk to the end of your street before freezing. You decided you were going to be brave, didn’t let your mind become overwhelmed with all the reasons this was a bad idea and instead followed him out in the rain, feeling a shiver run down your spine and not knowing whether it was from anticipation or the cold.

Matt seemed to have the same idea, turning around on his heel and meeting you halfway, cupping your face in his hands and practically smashing your lips together in a rushed and messy kiss, your noses knocking against each other as your hands gripped his wet suit.

The kiss was everything you had thought it was going to be, if you thought Matt brushing against your hand was enough to send a rush of electricity through you then it wasn’t nothing compared to the sparks flying as he kissed you.

The two of you stayed out in the rain kissing until you had to pull away for air, both of you drenched through but not even noticing as Matt rested his forehead against yours, the two of you breathing heavily against each other.

Matt gave you a second longer to catch your breath before his lips were on yours again, this time his hands found your hips and he nudged you until you were walking backwards towards your apartment, Matt managing to pull himself away so you could open the door before he attached himself to you again, the two of you somehow managing to get up the stairs without breaking apart.

Matt slammed your back into the door, pulling away from your lips to nip at your neck, trailing kisses and pausing to suck bruises into the skin causing you to muffle soft moans as you tried several times to open your apartment door.

Once you were inside Matt wasted no time moving you both to the bedroom, by the time the two of you got there you had both been stripped off your wet clothes and left only in your underwear. Matt sat down on the bed first and pulled you on top of him so that you were straddling him, feeling how hard he was for you.

You moaned as you ran your fingers through his hair, he wet locks tangling around your fingers and you tighten your grip to pull him into another rough kiss, Matt groaning into as you grinded against him, his hand moving towards your hips and dragging you closer, bucking up into you.

“Fuck Y/N, need you so bad.” Matt grunted into your neck when you finally pulled away from each other, his hands running up and down your body causing you to moan.

You shifted down Matt’s body, trailing kisses down his chest until you settled in between his legs, wasting no time in removing his boxers and moaning at the sight of his hard cock, already leaking with pre-cum.

Matt couldn’t stop himself from thrusting into your mouth when your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, forcing his dick half way into you before he restrained himself, listening as you choked and moaning loudly, his hands gripping your hair as you took a breath before you started sucking on his cock like you were made for it.

Matt felt himself hit the back of your throat, moaning even louder as he felt you relax and take him even further. You were making such a mess, he could feel your drool all over his cock, leaking from your mouth and down your chin, he could feel your gaze on him, knew your eyes would be bright and wide especially when he stilled you with the hand in your hair and took over, letting himself lose control as he thrusted himself deep into your mouth.

He had to force himself to pull out before he made an even bigger mess on your face, tempting as the thought was, he needed to be inside of you, needed to feel how good you felt on his cock.

Matt shifted you so that you were laying underneath him, as he settled in between your legs he dipped his head down to smash his lips against yours and feeling the mess you had made had him groaning into it before he pulled away.

You moaned loudly when you felt the head of Matt’s cock pushing at your entrance, spreading you open and stretching you wide. Your hand gripped the bedsheet as you felt him push deeper into you, already feeling fuller than you’d ever felt before he was fully inside you.

Matt kissed you again as he pushed his cock fully inside you, feeling the way you stretched perfectly around him, unable to stop the moans and grunts that escaped him. You were so tight on his cock, the little gasped breaths that left you as he stretched you out ran straight to his cock.

The way he could hear your heart hammering against your chest had him thrusting into you after giving you a minute to adjust to him and you were crying out in pleasure as he set a rough pace, slamming in and out of you like he couldn’t control himself, his fingers rubbing against your clit causing your toes to curl and back to arch as you fisted the sheets and moaned mindlessly.

Matt trailed kissed down to your neck, tasting sweat against your skin as your head fell to the side and he wasted no time in covering your skin in even more bruises, marking you as his whilst he slammed into you, whispering praises, telling you how good you felt, how perfect you were, how much he loved feeling you on his cock.

Eventually it was all too much for you and your hands found Matt’s shoulders, fingers digging into his skin as you felt yourself come apart, practically seeing sparks fly as you came on his cock whilst he continued thrusting into your sensitive pussy, his fingers still rubbing at your clit causing you to whimper and gasp.

Matt continued thrusting into you, feeling like he was in heaven when he felt you cumming all over his cock and lasted only a few moments longer before he stilled, burying his face in your neck and cumming inside you, giving a few lazy thrusts before he managed to pull himself out of you.

You felt a trail of cum leave your pussy, groaning at how empty you felt now that Matt had left you, the man laying on top of you and trailing lazy kisses along your chest, your hands moving up into his hair, running your fingers through it gently and smiling as he leaned into your touch.

“What is this?” You couldn’t help but ask after a while, keeping your voice soft so as not to disturb the peace between you.

Matt knew he couldn’t leave now, not now that he had had you. He wanted you to be with him, he wanted to be with you in every way possible. He’d do everything he could to protect you, to keep Daredevil and the trouble that seemed to follow the masked vigilante far away from you.

“I love you.” Matt confessed, smiling as he felt your heart stutter before speeding up. “I was scared but I love you, Y/N/N, I want you to be mine.”

“I’d like that.” You murmured, letting your lips press against his hair. “I love you too.”

You were ecstatic, for so long you had thought you would never know what it would be like to have Matt feel anything other than friendship for you and now he was here, in your bed, telling you he loved you. It was better than all your wildest dreams, holding Matt close and falling asleep in his arms, glad you had been brave enough and knowing you wouldn’t have to live the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you’d just kissed him in the pouring rain.

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Thank you so much for reading!!💜

So this is the first chapter in *hopefully* a series! Let me know what you all think!

**To Love in Silence**

{Matt Murdock × Gender neutral reader}

{Slow-burn/angst to comfort/ miscommunication/a slight pregnancy trope. Karen × Foggy}

The fog clung to Hell’s Kitchen like a heavy coat, weighing the city down with the kind of damp chill that seeped into your bones. It was a suffocating mix of gasoline, rain, and something uniquely New York—garbage left too long in the summer heat, mingling with the faint, greasy scent of food vendors hustling to make a buck. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was home, in the way that Hell’s Kitchen was always home. It was rough around the edges, a place that constantly smelled like it was on the verge of either decay or rebirth.

Josie’s Bar was a testament to that. It was the kind of dive that hadn’t seen a proper cleaning in years, where the dim lights buzzed faintly overhead and everything seemed to be coated in a thin layer of cigarette smoke, even though smoking hadn’t been allowed in years. The booths were sticky, the red leather cracked and worn from years of use, and if you leaned back too far, you’d catch a whiff of something sour, like spilled beer that had soaked into the wood and never quite dried. The floors, perpetually grimy, clung to the soles of your shoes, and every step felt like a battle against the faint but ever-present stick of spilled liquor.

It was noisy, too—an endless hum of conversation underscored by the clink of glasses, the dull thud of pool balls colliding, and the occasional burst of laughter from the back corner where a group of regulars always seemed to be locked in an eternal argument. The jukebox played half-forgotten rock songs, muffled and distorted, as if the music itself was too tired to put up a fight against the constant chatter. Every sound echoed in the tight space, bouncing off the stained walls and low ceiling, creating a cacophony that somehow felt familiar, comforting even.

Foggy slid into the booth across from me, his usual smile in place but not quite reaching his eyes. He smelled like he always did—like cheap aftershave, something bright and sharp that clung to him even after a long day in court. There was a hint of fabric softener, too, a faint clean scent that contrasted with the mustiness of the bar, but underneath that was the smell of sweat and city grime, of long hours spent hustling through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. He looked tired, like all of us, his tie loosened and his hair slightly mussed from where he’d run his hands through it one too many times.

“You look like you could use a drink,” he said, flagging down Josie with a wave. I watched her shuffle over, wiping her hands on a dirty rag before slamming two beers down on the table. The glasses were slick with condensation, leaving damp rings on the worn wood.

“I could use a lot of things,” I muttered, staring into the foam as if it held answers I couldn’t find anywhere else.

Foggy leaned back, the leather squeaking under his weight. “What’s eating at you?”

“It’s Matt,” I said, unable to keep the frustration from bleeding into my voice. “He’s… different. Distant. I feel like I’m losing him.”

Foggy nodded, his expression darkening as he took a long sip of his beer. “He’s got a lot going on,” he said, but the words felt hollow, like he was tired of saying them. He smelled faintly of the cheeseburger he’d inhaled on the way over, greasy and comforting, mingling with the stale air of the bar.

“I just don’t understand,” I said, picking at the label on my bottle, my fingers sticky with beer residue. “He used to tell us everything.”

“Used to,” Foggy echoed, his eyes drifting to the empty spot beside me. “Matt’s always been good at keeping secrets, but lately… I don’t know. I don’t think even he knows what he’s doing.”

I glanced at the TV above the bar, where Wilson Fisk’s face loomed larger than life. The screen flickered, showing scenes of destruction—burned-out cars, crime scene tape flapping in the wind, cops huddled together like they were preparing for war. Fisk’s name was everywhere, a dark cloud that hung over the city, and behind it all, whispers of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen—the masked vigilante who’d been tearing through the crime rings, leaving chaos in his wake.

“You ever wonder who that guy is?” I asked, nodding toward the screen. “The Devil?”

Foggy followed my gaze, his brow furrowing. “Sometimes,” he said, a hint of unease creeping into his voice. “He’s out there every night, taking on Fisk’s men like he’s got nothing left to lose. You gotta be a special kind of messed up to do that.”

I thought about Matt then, about the bruises and the bandages, the way he winced when he thought no one was looking. There was a smell to him when he was hurt—like copper and antiseptic, sharp and medicinal. On his good days, though, he smelled clean, like the cedarwood soap he favored, mingling with the faintest hint of coffee and old books, something warm and familiar. It was a comforting scent, but lately, even that had been tinged with something darker, like smoke and sweat, as if he was constantly fighting battles I couldn’t see.

“Do you think…,” I started, but the thought died on my tongue. I couldn’t bring myself to say it, to voice the suspicion that had been clawing at my mind for weeks. That maybe Matt knew more about the Devil than he let on. That maybe he was closer to the danger than any of us realized.

“Do I think what?” Foggy asked, giving me a curious look.

“Nothing,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Just… nothing.”

But the doubt lingered, festering in the back of my mind as the night wore on.

It was late when I finally got home, the city quieting down to the dull roar of distant sirens and the occasional shout from a street corner. I fumbled with my keys, my fingers numb from the cold, and stepped inside my apartment, greeted by the faint, musty scent of old wood and the slightly metallic tang of the radiator that never quite worked right.

I had barely kicked off my shoes when I heard a knock—a soft, hesitant tap that sent my heart lurching. I opened the door, and there he was, leaning against the frame, looking every bit as battered as I felt. His suit was rumpled, the collar of his shirt stained with something that looked suspiciously like blood, and his hair was a mess, sticking up at odd angles like he’d been running his hands through it all night.

“Matt,” I said, the surprise evident in my voice. He smelled like rain and the faint, acrid scent of city air, layered with something distinctly him—cedar, sweat, and a trace of something metallic and sharp. My throat tightened at the sight of him, all messy and undone, like he’d been fighting shadows I couldn’t see.

“Hey,” he said, his voice rough around the edges, like he’d been shouting over the noise of the world. “Can I come in?”

I stepped aside, and he brushed past me, his movements stiff and unsteady. I could smell the sweat on him, mingling with the faintest hint of blood, though he tried to hide it beneath a weak smile. He sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands, and for a long moment, we sat in silence, the air between us thick with everything we didn’t know how to say.

“You look awful,” I said, half-joking, trying to cut through the tension. But it was true. Up close, I could see the bruises blooming along his jaw, the cuts that hadn’t been there last week. He smelled like pain, like antiseptic and bandages, and something else—something darker, like smoke and gunpowder.

“Long day,” he muttered, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You’re never a bother, Matt,” I said, though the words felt fragile, like they might shatter if I looked at them too closely. I moved closer, hesitating before reaching out to touch his shoulder. He flinched, just barely, and I drew back, my hand hovering between us. “What’s going on with you? I feel like you’re a million miles away.”

He didn’t answer right away, his head dropping into his hands. I could hear his breathing, ragged and uneven, and the faintest catch of something like a sob caught in his throat. It was the first time I’d seen him this vulnerable, this… lost. And it scared me, more than I was willing to admit.

“It’s Fisk,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Everything’s getting worse, and I… I can’t fix it. Not the way I want to.”

“Matt,” I said softly, trying to catch his gaze. But he was somewhere else, staring through me like he was seeing ghosts. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

The way he wanted to. The words hung heavy, loaded with all the secrets he was too afraid to share. I watched him, the faint tremble in his hands, the way his shoulders hunched like he was trying to hold the world together on his own. And maybe he was.

He lifted his head, and for a split second, I saw something break in him, something raw and real and utterly heartbreaking. He smelled like rain, sweat, and exhaustion—like a man who’d been running from someone, or something..

Chapter Two: A love in the dark

Matt Murdock × Gender neutral reader

{Slow-burn/angst to comfort/ miscommunication/a slight pregnancy trope. Karen x Foggy}

I watched him, the faint tremble in his hands, the way his shoulders hunched like he was trying to hold the world together on his own. And maybe he was.

“Matt,” I said softly, trying to catch his gaze. But he was somewhere else, staring through me like he was seeing ghosts. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

He lifted his head, and for a split second, I saw something break in him, something raw and real and utterly heartbreaking. He smelled like rain, sweat, and exhaustion—like a man who’d been fighting his own demons for so long he’d forgotten how to stop.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, the sudden ring of my phone cut through the quiet. The sound startled me, and I glanced at the screen, my heart stuttering when I saw Matt’s name.

I blinked, looking at the empty spot beside me on the couch where he’d just been. Only, he wasn’t there. The apartment was still, and suddenly, I felt every ounce of the emptiness pressing down on me. I picked up the phone, my voice wavering as I answered.

“Matt?”

“Hey,” came his voice, rough and low, the words distorted by static. There was something off about it—an edge that made my skin prickle, like the ghost of a snarl hidden beneath the surface. It was Matt, but it wasn’t. It was harsher, darker, tinged with an anger that wasn’t usually directed at me. “You home?”

“Yeah, I… I’m here,” I said, looking around the empty apartment, my confusion mounting. “Where are you?”

There was a pause, just the sound of his breathing crackling through the line. For a moment, I thought he might hang up, but then he spoke again, quieter this time, almost hesitant. “I’m close. I’ll be there soon.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving me staring at the screen, the silence suddenly suffocating. I stood up, pacing the length of the room, my mind racing. Something was wrong. Something had been wrong for a long time, and now it was right on the edge of boiling over.

Before I could think too hard about it, there was a soft knock at the door, so gentle I almost missed it. I opened it slowly, and there he was, drenched in rain and shadow, his cane folded neatly in his hand. He slipped inside without a word, his movements fluid and deliberate, like he already knew every corner of the room without needing to look.

Matt didn’t bother with his usual pleasantries. His steps were deliberate, purposeful as he walked further into my apartment, each footfall soft but assured, like he was gliding through the dark. The cane folded in his grip felt more like an afterthought, something he carried not out of necessity but routine. He knew the layout of my space better than anyone—better than me, even. He’d memorized every table leg, every uneven floorboard, every creak and groan of the old walls.

But tonight, he was different. He carried the weight of the city with him, the air around him heavy with the scent of rain, sweat, and something darker—something sharp and metallic, like the echo of a fight that hadn’t yet ended. His hair was wet, plastered against his forehead, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low and ragged, stripped of the warmth I’d come to know. It was the voice of someone used to giving orders, not asking questions.

“I’m sorry for calling like that,” he said, but it didn’t sound like an apology. His voice had an edge to it, something deeper, grittier, that sent a shiver down my spine. It was like he’d brought the city’s darkness with him, dragging it through the threshold and spilling it onto my worn carpet. “I just… I didn’t know where else to go.”

“It’s okay,” I said, though it wasn’t. None of this was okay, and the way he was looking at me—like he was seeing something but not quite there—made my chest tighten. “Are you hurt?”

He shook his head, but I didn’t believe him. There were bruises creeping along his jaw, a faint trickle of dried blood near his ear that he hadn’t bothered to clean. Up close, I could smell it—the iron tang of fresh cuts mingling with the faint musk of leather and sweat. It was the scent of the city at its worst, of late nights and alleyways, of battles fought in places no one was meant to see. I reached out instinctively, my hand hovering just over his cheek, but he pulled back, stiffening at the contact.

“Matt,” I said, my voice breaking at the sight of him. “What the hell is going on with you?”

He turned away, his grip tightening around his cane, knuckles white against the dark wood. I watched as he leaned against the wall, his shoulders slumped, a man teetering on the edge of something he couldn’t name. The air between us was thick, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid, and I felt like I was grasping at smoke, trying to catch hold of a man who was slipping further and further away.

“Fisk is getting bolder,” Matt said finally, his voice low and laced with something that bordered on a snarl. “He’s… He’s tearing this city apart.”

I flinched at the venom in his tone. I’d heard Matt angry before, but this was different—this was rage, pure and unfiltered, the kind that didn’t just come from frustration but from something deeper, something personal. I knew Fisk was bad news—he was on every channel, his smug face plastered across every screen in Hell’s Kitchen. But this… this was something else.

“What does that have to do with you?” I asked, my voice small in the dim room. “Why are you always in the middle of this?”

His silence was answer enough. Matt clenched his jaw, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring ready to snap. I could see the conflict warring in his expression, the shadows under his eyes deepening as he struggled to keep his secrets buried. It was like he was on the brink of telling me something—something that could change everything—but fear held him back. Or maybe it was pride.

“I can’t tell you,” he said finally, each word dragged out like it hurt to say. “I want to. God, I want to tell you everything, but I can’t. Not yet.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest, feeling the weight of his words settle like lead in my stomach. There was so much he wasn’t saying, so many cracks in the façade he’d spent years building, and I was terrified of what lay underneath. But more than that, I was scared of losing him—of watching him disappear into the darkness he’d been dancing with for far too long.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Matt,” I said, stepping closer, my hand reaching for his despite the chill between us. “Whatever it is, whatever you’re fighting, let me help you.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, I saw the mask slip, just a little. There was something broken in his eyes, something fragile and desperate that he couldn’t quite hide. He reached up, his fingers brushing mine in a touch so light it was almost a question, and for the first time that night, I thought he might actually let me in.

But then the mask was back, the walls slamming down as he pulled away, retreating into himself like he always did. “I can’t,” he whispered, the words barely audible over the sound of the rain against the window. “Not yet.”

And just like that, the distance between us stretched wide again, the unspoken things building a wall I couldn’t see over. Matt turned, folding his cane with a practiced flick of his wrist, and headed toward the door, his shoulders hunched against the weight of his own secrets.

I watched him go, feeling the ache of his absence before he’d even left the room. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I needed to hear, but the words wouldn’t come. Matt paused at the door, his hand resting on the knob, and for a moment, I thought he might turn back, that he might finally tell me the truth.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he glanced over his shoulder, his face half-hidden in shadow. “Stay safe,” he said, his voice raw and jagged, like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world. And then he was gone, swallowed by the night and the storm outside, leaving me alone in the dim glow of my apartment, surrounded by questions that I didn’t have the answers to.

I stood there long after the door had closed, staring at the empty space where he’d been, my heart heavy with the weight of all the things we never said. Whatever was going on with Matt, it was bigger than me, bigger than both of us. And as much as I wanted to help, to fight alongside him, I knew that some battles he would have to face alone.

For now, all I could do was wait.

---

**Flashback:**

The first time he showed up like this, it was raining, too. I remember the soft patter against the window, the way the city seemed to hold its breath as he stumbled inside, dripping and bruised. I’d never seen him look so small, so utterly defeated, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if the man standing in front of me was Matt Murdock or the ghost of the vigilante he’d tried so hard to keep hidden. His suit was torn in places, blood seeping through the fabric, and his hair was a matted mess sticking to his forehead. There was a wild, desperate look in his eyes, like he’d been running from something that still had its claws in him.

“Matt?” I’d whispered, the question hanging heavy in the air between us. He didn’t answer, just stood there, water pooling at his feet, his hands trembling as he struggled to pull off his mask. I’d never seen him like this—so vulnerable, so raw. It was like watching a dam break, the weight of everything he’d been carrying spilling out all at once.

“Sorry,” he’d muttered, voice cracking as he finally let the mask fall to the floor. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he didn’t know what to do with them. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

I didn’t ask questions. Not then. I just took him by the arm, guiding him to the couch as he sagged against me, the strength in his legs giving way. He winced when I touched his side, the sharp intake of breath telling me more than words ever could. He was hurt—badly. And yet, he’d come here. To me. When he could barely stand, when his body was a map of pain and bruises, he’d chosen my door.

I’d gone to grab a first aid kit, but by the time I’d returned, he was already trying to clean his wounds, his movements stiff and shaky. I watched him struggle, stubbornly pushing through the pain like it was a challenge he couldn’t afford to lose. I sat beside him, taking the cloth from his hands, my touch gentle, careful not to push too hard.

“Let me help,” I’d said softly, and he’d nodded, too exhausted to argue.

.

As I wrapped his ribs, I couldn’t help but notice the faint tremor in his hands, the way he clenched his jaw like he was holding something back. He’d always been good at that—at hiding. But that night, in the dim light of my apartment, it was like the mask he wore had slipped, just a little, and I could see the man beneath. The one who bled, who hurt, who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders even when it was too much.

“Thank you,” he’d said quietly when I was done, his voice barely above a whisper. It was the kind of gratitude that came from a place of deep, unspoken pain, and it hit me harder than I expected. There was something in his eyes then, something vulnerable and raw that he rarely let anyone see. And in that moment, I’d realized just how much he was fighting—not just the criminals, the shadows of Hell’s Kitchen, but himself. His past, his guilt, the unrelenting need to do more, to be more than just the blind lawyer or the devil in the dark.

“I’m here,” I’d told him, my voice steady despite the tremor in my heart. “Whenever you need me.”

He’d nodded, but there was a sadness in his smile, a flicker of something that told me he didn’t believe it could be that simple. And maybe it wasn’t. But I’d meant every word. Because Matt was more than just the man who kept coming back bruised and battered. He was the one who fought for the voiceless, who stood up when no one else would. And even though he never said it, I knew that, in his own way, he was fighting for me too.

But as I watched him disappear into the night once more, a shadow among the rain-soaked streets, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were both losing a battle we didn’t know how to win. That no matter how many times he found his way back to my door, we were still trapped in this endless dance of secrets and silence.

Now, standing alone in the dim light of my apartment, I thought of that night—the first time he’d let his guard down, the first time he’d let me see the cracks in his armor. It was a memory that haunted me, one that lingered in the quiet moments when I was left to wonder if there would ever be a day when Matt didn’t feel the need to fight alone.

And as I stared at the door, hoping against hope that he might come back, I realized that all I could do was wait. To be here when he was ready. To love him in the silence, even if it meant loving a man who might never be able to love himself.

*flashback end*

*The next morning*

I stood there long after the door had closed, staring at the empty space where Matt had been. The silence was overwhelming, filled with questions that spun wildly in my head. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to make sense of it all, but every thought led me back to the same place: Matt was in trouble, and whatever he was facing was bigger than anything I could handle alone.

I grabbed my phone, my fingers trembling as I scrolled through my contacts. Foggy’s name stared back at me, a small comfort in a sea of uncertainty. If anyone could make sense of this, it was Foggy. He was Matt’s best friend, his anchor, the one person who’d always managed to pull him back when the darkness threatened to consume him.

I hit call, pressing the phone to my ear, pacing anxiously around the apartment as it rang.

“Hey, what’s up?” Foggy’s voice was light, but there was a tiredness beneath it, the kind that came from too many late nights and too much worrying.

“It’s Matt,” I said, the words rushing out before I could stop them. “Something’s… something’s really wrong.”

There was a pause, and I could almost hear the shift in Foggy’s demeanor, the lightness gone in an instant. “What happened? Is he hurt?”

“He’s…” I hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “He showed up here, bruised and bleeding, and he wouldn’t tell me what was going on. He said Fisk is tearing the city apart, but it’s more than that. It’s like he’s… unraveling.”

“Shit,” Foggy muttered, his voice laced with a mix of anger and fear. “Where is he now?”

“He left. I tried to get him to stay, to talk, but he just—he wouldn’t let me in. He’s shutting everyone out, and I don’t know what to do.”

Foggy sighed heavily, and I could hear him moving, grabbing his things. “I’m on my way. I’ll call Karen too. Meet us at Josie’s in ten.”

He hung up before I could respond, and I was left staring at the phone, feeling the weight of what was happening settle even heavier on my shoulders. I knew this wasn’t the first time Matt had gone off the rails, but something about tonight felt different, like he was teetering on the edge of something dangerous, and there was no pulling him back. Not without help.

I grabbed my coat and headed out, the cold night air hitting me as I made my way to Josie’s. The streets were slick with rain, the city lights reflecting in the puddles like fractured stars. It felt fitting, somehow—everything just a little broken, a little off.

When I walked into the bar, Foggy was already there, pacing near the entrance. His expression was a mix of worry and frustration, the lines on his face deeper than I remembered. Karen was seated at a table nearby, her eyes flicking anxiously between her phone and the door. She looked up when she saw me, her expression softening, but the concern was still etched in every line of her face.

“I got here as fast as I could,” Karen said, her voice quiet but urgent. “What’s going on? What happened with Matt?”

I slid into the seat beside her, feeling the warmth of the bar’s dim lighting chase away the chill from outside. “He’s falling apart, Karen. He came to my place tonight, bruised and bloody, talking about Fisk, about the city tearing itself apart. But he wouldn’t tell me anything real. He wouldn’t let me help.”

Foggy sat down across from us, rubbing a hand over his face. “He’s been pulling away for weeks now. Every time I try to get through to him, he shuts me out. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. That maybe he’d get it together, that he’d let one of us in. But it’s like he’s on some kind of self-destruct path, and he won’t stop until he’s—”

He trailed off, the fear in his eyes saying more than his words ever could. I knew what he was thinking, what we were all thinking: that one day, Matt might not come back from whatever fight he’d thrown himself into.

Karen leaned forward, her voice a whisper as she tried to piece it all together. “Did he say anything about Fisk? About what’s going on?”

“Just that Fisk is getting bolder,” I said, the memory of Matt’s snarled words still fresh, still raw. “He’s acting like this is his fight, like he’s the only one who can stop it. But he’s not just angry, he’s… he’s scared. I’ve never seen him like this.”

Foggy slammed his fist on the table, startling both of us. “Goddammit, Matt. Why does he always think he has to do this alone? We’re his friends, for Christ’s sake. We’re supposed to be in this together.”

Karen placed a hand on Foggy’s arm, her touch gentle, but her voice firm. “We need to find him. Before he does something reckless.”

“But how?” I asked, feeling the weight of the question settle heavily between us. “He’s not exactly easy to track down, and even if we do find him, how do we get through to him?”

Foggy looked at me, his expression softening just a little. “We just… we keep trying. We keep showing up, no matter how many times he pushes us away. Matt’s stubborn, but he’s not invincible. He’s still human, and he needs us, whether he wants to admit it or not.”

Karen nodded, determination flashing in her eyes. “We start with what we know. We dig into Fisk, figure out what’s got Matt so spooked. And we keep reaching out, keep reminding him that he’s not alone in this.”

I glanced between them, feeling a surge of something close to hope. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough to keep fighting, enough to keep believing that maybe, somehow, we could pull Matt back from the edge before it was too late.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “We’re in this together.”

And as we sat there, huddled in the dim light of Josie’s, I felt the faint stirrings of resolve, the beginning of a plan. We weren’t going to give up on Matt. Not now, not ever. Because no matter how far he fell, no matter how deep the darkness, we were his light. And we were going to find him, to stand by him, to love him through the silence.

i neeeeed a part 2 of this

I Heard Love is Blind (Matt Murdock x f!Reader)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

A/N: Soooo sorry this took so long. I’ve taken the last week off from writing to travel for the holidays. As for this fic, I’m well aware that this isn’t how visual impairment typically works but being that I’m writing in a universe where superheroes exist, I’m asking y’all to suspend your beliefs for a few minutes. The end of this fic was just a little fun idea that I had as I was writing it. It's short and sweet (around 1.3k words). I hope y’all enjoy!

Request: Hello! So, the reader is becomes blind because of a disease or something... whatever... and she in hospital room with matt with her, then doctor comes and tells them she cannot be able to see ever again. She doesn't want to cry while matt is there because she thinks he can be offended or something, but she cannot help herself and matt tries to comfort her? What do you say?

Summary: Matt helps you sort through your feelings after you have an accident and lose your sight. You struggle with opening up to him fully because you don’t want to hurt him.

(Warnings: female!reader, references to (but no detail of) an accident, newly visually impaired reader, angst, soft!matty, protective!matty, references to a possible female daredevil towards the end)

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It was an accident, really, but the overwhelming feeling of dread hadn’t left your system since you’d been hoisted into the ambulance that brought you to the hospital. Matt was right behind you, of course, arriving at the E.R. entrance at the same time you did, lurking in the corner of the hospital room as doctor after doctor examined you.

You couldn’t help but jump when a new set of hands began to poke and prod around your eyes. You couldn’t see them, hadn’t been able to see anything since the accident, and they didn’t announce themselves. Or maybe they did, and you weren’t listening. You didn’t know. The world around you had become a blur of noises, an overwhelming rush of sensory overload that you were too exhausted to try and figure out.

Your name had been murmured by countless doctors, but your ability to respond was muted by the pounding of your heart in your ears. A firm, warm hand rested on your shoulder, and Matt’s cologne wafted into your nose. The outside world once again became background noise as Matt lightly squeezed your shoulder. You had the sudden urge to giggle at how backwards this predicament was. Normally, it was you grounding him when the noise became too much to bear. Now, he was fulfilling your position – providing a distraction to focus on until everything – the world, it’s chaos – settled.

“No pupillary response.” One doctor muttered in a melancholy, but professional tone. The scribble of a pen on paper sent goosebumps down your spine.  

When the words “possible permanent blindness” passed through hushed whispers around the room, you didn’t flinch, all too aware of the blind man you’d fallen in love with sensing your every move. Your lack of reaction was cause for concern from everyone in the room, most of all Matt, who hadn’t uttered a word since the accident.

“Can she have a second?” He murmured softly, ushering the nurses and doctors out of the room faster than should’ve been possible. He always did have a way of making people do what he wanted them to do, though you didn’t think he was aware of the effect he had on people. Not completely, at least.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed in your ears, and you got the sense that every bad feeling you’d been ignoring since this began was about to force its way out of you. Matt’s sigh as he sat down next to you snapped you out of it, and you blinked away the tears that had begun forming.

It wasn’t fair to cry over this in front of him. You shouldn’t be mourning the loss of something he had lived without since he was a kid. Not in front of him, at least.

“You’re handling all this remarkably well. Better than I did.”

Matt didn’t say this with malice or malcontent. Rather, an astute observation on his part. Almost entirely lawyerly if you had to pinpoint his tone.

“You were nine, Matt, and we don’t know that it’s permanent.” You muttered, the first words you’d spoken since you’d lost the ability to see.

“Still.” You felt him shrug. You reached out your hand, feeling around the sheets until your fingers met the skin of his wrist. He didn’t miss a beat, intertwining his fingers with yours as soon as your skin met his. He lifted your hand, planting a small kiss on your knuckles.

“You’re allowed to be upset about this.” He mumbled against your hand. “I can feel the energy in you. Let it out, sweetheart.”

“Matty, I can’t just– It’s not fair to you that I– It wouldn’t be right.” You groaned, blinking back the fresh wave of tears trying to force their way out of your eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. Even if it’s not permanent, this is still a big change for you. You’re allowed to mourn this.”

A few tears escaped as he spoke, and the only thing keeping you from furiously wiping them away was Matt’s hand, already there, softly stroking your cheek as you tried your hardest not to fall apart in his hands.

“What if it is?” You mumbled, sniffling.

“What if it’s what?” He asked, ghosting over your eyelids with his thumb.

“What if it’s permanent, Matty?” You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Furious tears cascaded down your face, and you let out an ugly sob as you revealed the horrible thoughts you’d been trying so hard to hide.

Matt allowed you to sob into his chest, cradling you against him as he rested his cheek on the top of your head. His dress shirt, the one you loved so much, the one he wore to work today because you wanted to see him in it, was soaked with tears before he finally spoke.

“It’s not fair that you’re going through this, sweetheart. I’m so, so sorry. I wish I could change it. But I know you can handle it, okay? You’re strong enough to do this, and you’ll have help. We’ll figure it out, baby.”

You nodded into his chest, unable to form a coherent sentence in response.

“Sweet girl,” Matt cooed, kissing your hair, “You don’t have to hide how you’re feeling from me, ever, okay? I know it’s frustrating – trust me, I know better than anyone what you’re going through right now – but it does get easier. I promise.”

You wiped the tears from your face, careful to avoid your eyes. Goosebumps bristled on the back of your neck when the sound of a car horn loudly echoed in your ears. You couldn’t keep your hands from clamping over the sides of your head in response.

“The world is so loud, Matt. I don’t know how you handle it all the time.”

Matt lifted your hand to his face so you could feel the indents of his cheek as he smiled.

“You get used to the noises after a while. They become a sort of…white noise, I guess you could call it. Is the beeping of the heart monitor bothering you?”

“No, it’s the cars. This city is so loud.”

Matt stiffened, tightening his grip on your hand.

“What do you mean?” He asked, breathing into your palm.

 Another loud honk blared in your head, and you couldn’t stop your body from cringing into a ball.

“Don’t tell me you can’t hear that.” You mumbled, shaking your head to try and rid the echo of the horns from your ears.

“No, I can hear it. How are you hearing it? We’re on the 18th floor.”

“What?”

It was your turn to stiffen. You didn’t quite understand the curiosity in Matt’s tone. You weren’t entirely sure you believed what he might be implying. You cocked your head to the side, mimicking the thing you’d seen Matt do a million times when he was trying to follow a specific noise, and focused your attention on Matt.

He was at least a foot away from you now, pacing across the floor. You couldn’t figure out how you knew he was pacing. You focused on the way his shoes tapped on the linoleum floor, the way his hands fiddled with his cane, tightening and untightening in a rhythmic dance, the way his heart was pounding in his chest, even though there was no possible way you could actually be hearing his heartbeat from this far away.

“Matty…” You murmured, lifting your hand from its place in your lap and reaching towards him.

“Yes, dove?” He asked, clearing his throat. He was closer to you now, and for the first time since your vision had gone, you weren’t surprised when his hand grasped yours. It was eerie, knowing where he was even though you couldn’t physically see him in front of you.

“What’s going on?” You asked, tightening your grip on his hand. He reached his other hand towards you, brushing his knuckles across your cheekbone in a soothing motion.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but we’re going to figure it out, okay?” You nodded, leaning your head into his hand. “Okay, Matty.”

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Now I feel like I’m wrapped up in that warm blanket with a Matt to scare all my worries away with a forehead kiss🥹

make amends

pairing: matt murdock x reader (gn pronouns)

rating: t+ (mugging, assault, canon-typical injury)

word count: 4,344

one-sentence synopsis: matt isn't there in time to stop you from getting hurt, but he has all the time left in the world to help ease your pain.

author's note: sweet matt....... i will manifest daredevil season 4 with my own fucking bare hands if i have to

read on ao3!

You’re still trembling by the time you arrive home.

You aren’t really entirely sure what to do first. For a while, you just stand inside the front door with it locked firmly behind you, doing nothing at all. It’s not until you hear a scrape in the hallway outside your apartment door that you jump, your heart skyrocketing into your throat in an instinctive, automatic fear response. Your terror is bubbling just under the surface, waiting for the moment of your collapse.

It could have been worse. You keep trying to tell yourself that mentally: it could have been so much worse.

The mugger found you walking home alone— even though you only had to walk two blocks from your bus stop to your building, even though you’ve walked it a million times before. Cornered in the darkness at the mouth of an alley you’d been passing by, you only had a moment to hope that Matt would be nearby, that somebody would hear, that this wasn’t really going to happen right now.

You had real fear, fear that you would actually lose your life at this person’s hands. You’ve been stolen from before, and even mugged twice, but this time was different. You’d watch this mugger brandish a knife, and your heart had galloped up into your throat, all thought and logic leaving you.

When the mugger had demanded you turn over your things, you hadn’t been able to make your body move fast enough. They had grabbed you, yanked you forward, knife held tight against the bones in your collar. The blade scraped your skin, and you’d cried out, and they’d grabbed for the bag you were carrying without hesitation.

You let it go, unthinking, and tried to throw a punch to fight them off, just like Matt taught you. You caught them under the chin, and they’d grabbed you up by the throat, tight under your jaw, before they shoved you back against the nearest wall. You could feel your skin split, scratched up on the brick, and your head hit the stone.

Though you lash out again, the blow you land doesn’t do much. You split your knuckles, and they kick your arm back. Finally, you covered your face, and they’d— sprinted away, taking up your bag and running with it.

For a while, you’d just sat there, shaking, trying to think. The only things left in your coat pocket were your keys and your phone, which, thank fuck, at least you had that much. Your wallet and your umbrella and the groceries you just got and the gift you had for Matt and the book you’re reading and— and all your things, your daily necessities, were in the bag, and that’s fucking gone, but you’re alive and you can get home.

You’d shoved upwards, then, and though you wanted to run, you’d only managed to shamble home. It was like your brain and body weren’t processing it properly.

When you’re home, though, and you’ve been standing stock-still for a while, and you finally hear that noise in the hallway, you jump. You end up snatching the nearest chair and wedging it up under the doorknob, just for the extra layer of protection the furniture affords.

It’s over. It’s over, and done, and it could have been so much worse, and there’s nothing you can do right now.

Your trembling becomes a full-body shaking, a teeth-chattering, constant shiver that feels like it’s leaking down into your bones. Your breath starts coming fast of its own accord, hyperventilation in a delayed panic response. Your heart thunders in your chest, its movement so fast it practically feels still.

Your phone rings. You hear the sound before you understand it, the sharp ringing before you actually think to reach for your pocket. You pull it up and out and see Matt’s face on the screen.

Matt.

He sees so much worse on a daily basis. He gets hurt all the time. He wasn’t there to save you when you needed him. He—

He’s calling again, when you didn’t answer the first one in time. You do manage to make yourself move, this time, reaching to swipe to answer, bringing the phone up to your ear. Your hand is shaking so badly the edge of the plastic keeps connecting with the corner of your jaw.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Matt says in a rush the second you pick up. “What’s happening? I started heading towards your place and I can hear your heart, are you okay? Is something happening?”

You shake your head. You don’t know why you are, or what it’s in answer to. He doesn’t know you’re doing it; he’s not even here, and he couldn’t see you if he was, even though he’d probably tease you anyway, say he could hear your hair or your muscles or something like that—

Matt repeats your name, and you try to focus, your mind bleary and constantly drifting as it tries desperately not to think about what just happened.

“Sorry,” you say softly. Your voice sounds strange, even to your own ears.

There’s a beat, and then Matt’s bewildered, concerned voice asks, “What’re you sorry for?”

“I should’ve—” you start to say, then exhale in a gust. You’re standing in the middle of your living room, and that’s where you sit, kneeling right there on the floor. You curl into yourself, pushing your knees into your chest, wanting to feel the solid gravity, the earth beneath you. Your eyes are finally burning over. Your voice breaks when you tell him, “I should’ve tried harder, I should’ve fought— I didn’t fight, I didn’t, I just gave up—”

“What are you talking about? What happened?” Matt demands again, a frantic edge starting to leak into his voice.

You’re turning yourself over to the rising hysteria in you, unable to fight it back now that Matt’s talking to you and you have no choice to acknowledge what’s happened. Your mind is whirling, struggling to process your terrified emotions. “Someone— Someone stopped me and took my stuff—”

“Where are you?” Matt asks. You can hear his breathing shift, changing into a heavier, steadier pace. He’s running, you realize.

“Home,” you whisper. You press the phone tight against your cheek and your ear, feeling the heat blazing off of it just for something to feel. “Matt, I need— I need—”

You can’t manage to get your plea out, begging cut off as your cries start to take you over in earnest, becoming full panicked sobs. Matt says something on the line, but you can’t hear him over the rush of blood in your ears.

You have this foreboding feeling that you just can’t shake, like you’re still being followed, like it’s somehow not over, and it’s making you feel frenzied, deranged, your body only now responding to a threat that’s long gone. You don’t know when you drop the phone; you only realize that you’re not holding it, that you’re holding onto your own hair instead, head bowed into your arms, trying to keep yourself together in one piece.

When Matt comes, it isn’t through the front door. You don’t know if he tried it and gave up or not, belatedly remembering the chair you’d wedged there— but, either way, he gets in anyway. He eases open the window in your living room, and then he’s kneeling next to you, his hand finding the center of your back.

You exhale all at once in a shuddering punch that bursts out of you. You try to say his name, to say, “Matt, I’m sorry,” but it doesn’t come out as anything more than incoherent sounds in the midst of your tears.

Matt just sits down on the floor and pulls you into his arms. You cling to him with numb fingers hooked in the joints of his Daredevil armor, and he doesn’t stop rubbing your back, clutching you close to his front. He’s taken his cowl off, the helmet abandoned nearby, one of the sharp horns leaving a small scratch on your floor.

You stare at that tiny scratch as you struggle to get a grip on yourself. Matt’s presence is helping in leagues, but you’re so far into your frenzy that it takes a while to come back out of it.

You make yourself focus on the even sweeps of Matt’s soft touch as he strokes your back; on the strong hold of his arms around you, keeping you safe; on the press of his lips to your hairline where he keeps murmuring reassuring echoes of the same thing; on the slowing thud of your own heart as you come back into yourself in fragmented pieces.

His hand moves to grip the back of your head, his cheek dragging along yours when he starts to pull back. Your heart kicks up, panic seizing you again, but Matt shushes you.

“I’m not going anywhere, it’s okay,” Matt tells you. “I can smell blood. Is it yours?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. Matt’s hold tightens, and you tell him, voice breaking once more, “I’m sorry—”

“No, no,” Matt cuts you off. He kisses your hair, says, “No, don’t be sorry. Don’t. Just— What happened?”

“I don’t know, I just— I got mugged, I think,” you tell him, embarrassed and terrified and hurt and upset, starting to fall apart. “I wasn’t— I wasn’t thinking, I— I should— I should’ve fought b—”

“I should’ve been there,” Matt says firmly, his tone inviting no argument. “(Y/N), I am— I am so sorry—”

“Matt,” you start to interrupt him. You want to tell him not to be sorry, that he can’t be everywhere at once, that it was over so quickly he couldn’t have done anything.

You can’t make the words come. You just start to dissolve again, repeating, “Matt,” and he kisses your temple hard, letting his forehead drag along yours. The physical touch of him is grounding you, grounding him. He won’t stop touching you, hard presses to make sure you’re still here and alive and okay.

Matt reaches and lifts your hand. You can see him as he’s taking stock of you, cataloguing your injuries through touch and scent, tasting your blood in the air, hearing the tiny noises you make when his gloved fingertips brush an injury.

He removes one glove, then gently touches the edge of your split knuckles. You wince, and he brings the back of your hand to his mouth, kissing it softly.

“I’ll fix it,” Matt tells you.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting him to do, but it’s not for him to start pulling his glove on and separating himself from you. He’s moving to pick his horns back up; your breathing quickens instinctively, fear gripping your lungs all over again.

He must hear the changes in your body, because he pauses, head tilted to the side a bit before he inclines back towards you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks you. Without waiting for an answer, he’s already saying, “I’ll call Claire, she can come while I’m gone and help you w—”

“No,” you finally get yourself to say. Matt’s brow furrows, frustration and confusion striking across his face. “Matt, n— No—”

“Would you rather I call Foggy?” he asks. “Or Karen? They would—”

“Don’t leave,” you beg him. You can’t stop the shattering of your voice as you speak. “Matt, please— Please don’t leave, I can’t— I can’t—”

The words won’t come out of your mouth before your breath is catching up in your throat again, choking off your next breaths. You fold into yourself again, trembling; Matt reaches for you, pulls you back into his lap. His hands have their gloves back on, the leather rough on your skin. You can’t bring yourself to let him go, clinging to him tightly, chest rattling apart.

Matt readjusts, leaning back against the coffee table behind himself so he can take your weight without tipping, focusing on you. His face comes back down to meet yours, cheek brushing yours, his hair soft against your skin.

“You’re okay,” Matt murmurs, voice soft. “Just breathe with me. I’m not going anywhere, you’re okay. In and out. Come on, in and out.”

You have to focus, and it takes pretty much all of your concentration to do it, but you start to steady and calm and slow again. There’s obvious tension roped through every muscle in his body, coiled and ready to spring into action to take down your attacker the second you give the word, but you can’t get yourself to give the word.

You barely saw them; you don’t know anything useful. All you know is that you were terrified, and hurt, and you needed Matt, and now he’s here. You don’t think you can let him go, not even for him to get revenge for you—

—or for himself, you realize, seeing how terrified he is, how angry he is, churning just beneath his surface as he struggles to keep the reins on himself. He grapples to hold his grip, determined not to make this worse for you than it already is by losing control of his emotions, but it’s— it’s fucking hard. You, you, are the person he loves most on this planet— and he dedicates himself daily to protecting people— and when you needed him, he wasn’t there, and you got hurt.

He can’t stop thinking about everything that could have happened. The things he witnesses on a daily basis are just— atrocities. If you were one of those people, he doesn’t think he could take it. If you had been unlucky enough to be one of those poor nameless, faceless fuckers that he’s not fast enough to save, one of those countless people who weigh on his soul, but more, worse, a million times worse, because none of them were you.

None of them are the reason he comes home at all, some days. None of them are the ones who take care of him when he’s hurt, and doesn’t think he needs help healing. None of them are his home, his heart, the person who consumes his every breath and still he wants to give them more.

None of them are you, and he couldn’t take it if it was. He couldn’t.

Matt’s hold on you is nearly tight enough to bruise, but you want it that way. You’d even ask him to hold you even tighter, if you didn’t know it would start to hurt your blossoming injuries.

“Matt,” comes out of your mouth, broken and harsh, jagged in your throat, catching on your tongue. “Matt—”

“I know,” he replies. You can feel it, goosebumps rising all over your arms. He does know, in his bones, coursing through his blood— he knows, what it feels like to hurt like this. It’s stabbing him in the chest, too, the pain of knowing you’re feeling what he tries so hard to protect you from. “I know. I know.”

When you can breathe again, Matt holding you and stroking your back while you press your face to his hard armor and cry until you’re exhausted and empty, you slump against him, letting him hold you up.

“Let me help,” Matt asks, voice low near your ear. Your hands shake, and he hurries to say, “No, I’m not leaving. Just—” He shifts, says, “Here,” and starts helping you to stand.

You let him guide you, assisting you in rising to your feet before he drops to scoop you up into his arms fully. You protest, about to argue that you’re not hurt so badly you can’t walk, but the look on Matt’s face stops you. It doesn’t matter if you can walk; right now, he wants to protect you, and take care of you— and you want to be protected, and cared for.

“You’re okay,” Matt repeats occasionally, when he hears your heart jump or your breath catch. “I got you. You’re okay.”

He doesn’t put you down until you’re in your bedroom with him. He lays you down in bed, then pauses a moment beside you, stroking your hair back from your face. His eyes settle somewhere near your throat as he listens— you don’t know to what.

After a beat, he straightens up and tells you, “I’ll be right back,” then adds before you can protest or even begin to feel the encroaching spike of panic, “I’m just getting the first aid kit. I’ll be one minute.”

He kisses the center of your palm, then vanishes from the room, moving impossibly quickly in his haste. You gather the covers around you, tugging them up, heedless of the fact that you’re still in the clothes you’d been wearing outside, shoes still on. You just want to be wrapped up, comforted, safe, protected.

When Matt returns, he’s shucked off most of his Daredevil armor, leaving him bare-chested and plain-faced, dark red armor covering only his legs now. He sets the first aid kit and a bowl on the side table before he returns his focus to you.

His hands find your hip, then skate up until he’s able to search out the edge of the covers. As he works, he doesn’t speak, though you can see from his expression that he appears to be seething with rage. You can feel it, working its way through his teeth into yours, metal-scrape-sharp, surging through you in jags.

“Here,” Matt murmurs, his tone with you easy even as his words come out hard. “Let me—”

He tugs the covers back, and his fingers drift down to your ankles. When he finds your boots on, still laced up, he nimbly unknots them, tugging them loose. One is removed, then the next; his bare hands, rough though they are, are soft and gentle as he removes one article of clothing from you at a time. He sets them aside in strips, a neat pile on the floor.

His hands seek out your wounds when he has you lying bare on top of the covers. He tilts his head, listening to the swell of your blood as it pools under your skin. He can taste in the air the places your blood rises and breaks the surface, beading with a heavy metal tang in the back of his throat.

You watch his face while he works, unable to look away. It’s so comforting, the familiar expressions that spread as he thinks. His eyes are so warm; you can see your own injuries and his hands reflected in them in the street lights from outside. You hadn’t even managed to turn a light on when you got here, and Matt hasn’t thought of it. Instead, you take comfort in the near-darkness, letting Matt envelop you in it.

He finds first the wound at the back of your head. A frown works its way onto his face, twisting down the corners of his pretty mouth in such a way that makes him seem both impossibly melancholy and incredibly enraged at the same time.

“Will you turn over for me?” Matt asks, his voice soft, low.

His hand finds your shoulder, and he helps you shift to turn onto your side, letting him see the back of your head. He brings the basin of warm water close; you can feel the heat and steam get nearer to your bare skin.

The corner of a warm, damp washcloth meets the very edge of the mark at the back of your head, and you flinch at the unexpected touch.

“I’m sorry,” Matt murmurs.

You close your eyes, saying, “It’s okay,” so low it’s little more than a whisper.

Matt’s fingers stroke through your hair before he takes hold of your shoulder. His other hand drifts up to start gently cleaning again, his touch even more delicate as he endeavors not to hurt you any further.

“No,” he tells you. “It’s not okay.”

Your eyes open again, and you stare at the darkness of the wall opposite, letting your vision swim in the shadows. The backs of them burn, your nose prickling; you take in a shaky breath, willing the tears not to fall.

They well up and start to spill anyways. Your hand drifts up to swipe at your face, but Matt can feel the pull of your muscles, can smell the salt in the air.

“Does it still hurt?” he asks. “I’m sorry—”

“No,” you whisper back. “I’m sorry, I’m just—” You don’t know what you mean to say. You don’t know what you’re feeling, really. “I’m sorry, I don’t know,” you repeat, your voice breaking.

“Don’t be sorry,” Matt says. He finishes cleaning the small injury at the back of your head, helps ease you into sitting up. His fingers drift up to graze your jaw before continuing up to cup your cheek. He hesitates, frowning, then lets his touch skim back down.

You can feel him exploring the swelling of the place just beneath your chin, below the strike of your jaw, where the mugger had grabbed you and forced you up against the wall.

Matt’s brow furrows and creases, his face crumpling as he tries to keep a hold of his emotions. You can feel your own composure splintering again, too, what you had managed to build back up so quickly falling to shreds.

“I should do— something,” Matt says, hands shaking. He traces down to the thin cut left behind by the blade, at the center of your throat, faint over your jugular. His breathing becomes something careful, measured. He keeps moving, hands skimming down over the scrapes cut into the backs of your arms and your calves, and further, the bruise where your arm was kicked, the bloody split skin of your knuckles where you’d landed the few punches you’d managed to throw at all.

He takes stock of you and your injuries before bringing the washcloth to your skin again. In tiny sweeps, he clears the blood away, removes any infinitesimal trace of dirt or germ or grit. Your arms come next, his face focused down.

As he works, barely keeping himself in check, he tells you again, “I should do something.”

“What would you do?” you ask him, voice shuddering a little. You’re not sure what to expect in response.

“I…” Matt starts, then stops. He has an answer ready, you can tell that much, but he’s considering whether or not it’s true— whether or not he wants to tell you about it. After a beat, he decides on honesty, violent though it is, confessing, “I’ll kill him.”

“Matt,” you breathe.

“He cut your throat,” Matt bites out, his jaw so tight you can see a muscle jumping in it as he’s trying to get a grip. “He could— He could have killed you. He w— One— If he had gone one inch deeper, right here,” he says, his fingertip against your pulse where it rabbits in your throat, “You would be d— You would— You would have died. I would have found you in that fucking alley—”

“Matt,” you repeat, voice breaking again.

“No,” he says quickly, then, “Fuck, no, I’m sorry, I fucking— I shouldn’t have said that, I don’t— Fuck,” he cuts out again. He draws his hands to his lap, tight around the washcloth as he wrings pink water out into the bowl again.

He reaches back out to take your hand in his. Gentle between his calloused fingers, he leads your hand down into the water, guiding it until your knuckles are submerged.

“I’m sorry,” Matt repeats to you. “That— I’m sorry.”

“I was so scared,” you admit to him tearfully. His thumb strokes along the back of your head, his head dropping in so he can press his forehead to yours, letting you breathe his air, letting you ground yourself in him. Your other hand flies up to grip his hair hard, threading at the back of his head, hanging on. A sob comes up and you confess, “Matt, I was so— I was so scared, I didn’t— I should have fought back and I know you’ve taught me better but I couldn’t think and I just let him do that and he could have killed me, you’re right, I don— You’re right, I just— I couldn’t—”

“Hey, shh.” Matt takes the dish of water away, setting it aside on the nightstand so it won’t spill. When he returns to you, he takes your wet hand in his, heedless of the water, guiding you up so he can press his lips to the center of your palm. Buried in your touch, he tells you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I should’ve—”

“No,” Matt cuts you off. “This is not your fault.”

You can hear the knife’s edge under his words, and you tell him, “It’s not yours, either,” voice vibrating just under the edge of noise.

Matt’s eyes prick with water, red starting to shoot through the feather-fine veins at the corners. You drag yourself in closer to him, and he wraps both arms around you, holding you tight in his strong grip.

You bury your face in Matt’s throat, and he kisses your temple in a hard press.

“Please don’t go,” you beg him, unable to stop yourself. “Please, d— Don’t.”

Matt reaches up to cup the back of your head in his hand, letting you be enveloped entirely by him, held close, embraced so fully you just fold into him.

“I won’t,” he promises you, and you believe him. He won’t— for now, anyway. He kisses the space beside your eye, your cheek, your jaw. You close your eyes and ignore the sting of pain when he does it; it feels better than it did before, better than when you were still alone. You’d rather have it this way, him here with you, holding you, keeping you safe, a protector who is as prepared to kill for you with his bare hands as he is ready to hold you close in those same hands and never let you go.

-

requests used:

"hello my dear heart I have thoughts and dark machinations that must be released into your inbox: im thinking thoughts of matt murdock and y/n being hurt physically by some random crime and just so down emotionally and matt coming to the house/apartment and having to try look after you and not leave you while wrestling with his need to find who hurt you. help me I need support I need matt cleaning wounds and hugging and his rage just under the surface" (@hellomrreaper)

That last line??! It’s everything

Hiii

I LOVE your work, and I was wonderful if you could write something with hurt/comfort with Matt Murdock?

Like you were coming home late and someone was following you home, and Matt hears you heart beat and comes to find you juste before the creepy person makes a move on you? And the reader is like “I’m fine, I’m okay” even tho she crying very hard and can’t breathe and Matt is like “no you’re not, but it’s okay I’ll take care of you” and then he takes care of reader and it’s fluff and comfort?

Thank youuuuu

Savior (Matt Murdock x Reader)

A/N: Hiiii! Thank you for reading! It's a short ficlet, but I ended up really liking how it turned out! Also, Charlie Cox is so, so PRETTY. A special thank you to my beta reader @wheredidiputmyfish for being so great! <3 (Word Count: 1.0k)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

You didn’t fully comprehend the predicament you were in until it changed from sketchy to dangerous. Hell’s Kitchen was especially quiet that night, though the argument could be made that it never fully went to sleep. Bodegas, laundromats, and diners stayed open late into the night, and it was the light spilling from their fogged windows that lit your route home.  

You knew Matt wouldn’t be happy with your decision to walk home alone. He’d warned you time and time again to wait for him, or get a taxi if he wasn’t around, but taxis were expensive, and he hadn’t answered your call earlier. Now, you cursed yourself for not waiting. 

The man behind you had been following you for thirteen blocks – you'd counted in nervous breaths – and he was gaining on you. You walked at an increasingly rapid pace, heart thundering as you blindly dug through your bag for the pepper spray Foggy had gifted you when you’d moved to the city. It was big and a stark blue, with the words “I Heart NY” stamped around it, but your hands were shaking so badly that even if you could find it in the black hole that was your tote bag, you weren’t sure you’d be able to use it.

You turned the corner, nervously glancing at the stranger out of the corner of your eye, and almost yelped at the proximity he had gained. He was within ten feet of you, and you didn’t give yourself a chance to hesitate before you took off running. 

“Hey!” He called. 

You ignored him, pushing your legs to move faster. You could see the entrance to your building, a tiny speck in the distance, and you prayed Matt was close enough to hear your racing heart. The man’s feet pounded on the concrete behind you, and you let out a wild shriek that you hoped would alert someone nearby. If it was heard by anyone, they didn’t make it known. You were alone, and the man was so close to you now that you knew you’d be grabbed by him before you could make it to the safety of your building.  

Arms wrapped around your middle, hauling you into an alley. You began shrieking at the top of your lungs, if only to make it harder for your attacker to get away with whatever he planned to do. 

“Leave me alone! Stop!” You fought with all your might, swinging and kicking wildly in front of you in a last-ditch effort to get away. “Get off me, you fucking creep!”  

Hands cradled your face. 

“It’s me. It’s me, sweetheart.” Matt’s smooth voice coaxed your eyes open. You hadn’t even realized they were closed. “You’re safe, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 

You blinked up at him in relief. Your heart thundered in your chest, making it hard to breathe. He wasn’t in his Daredevil suit, but the way he clenched his jaw told you that the Devil was itching to come out and play.  

“There was a man,” you started, voice scratchy from the screams you’d let out, “He was following me. I-I know I should’ve waited for you to come get me, but I didn’t want to bother you and then this guy showed up and I was trying to find the pepper spray but-” You were rambling now, gulping in air and waving your arms around as you explained.  

“Are you okay?” Matt asked, softly caressing the curve of your cheekbone.  

“Yeah.” You nodded. The lie tasted ashy on your tongue.  

“You’re crying, sweetheart.”  

“I-I’m fine.” You stuttered, attempting to blink the tears away. “I’m fine.” You tried again, but your voice wobbled as the words left your lips. You couldn’t tell if you were trying to convince him or yourself at that point. Matt nodded along with you, kissing your temple.  

“Let’s get you home, okay? You’re safe now. No one will ever hurt you again, okay? I’ve got you.” He led you to the apartment you shared with him, only letting go when you sunk into the cushions of the couch. “I’m going to make you some tea, okay?” 

“Okay.” Your voice was wispy, barely audible to anyone besides Matt, who had tuned himself to you so thoroughly that you sometimes felt like he could read your thoughts. Like right then, as the thought entered your brain, and he responded before you could even finish the thought. Some Chamomile tea would be grea- 

“Is Chamomile alright?” He called, clinking the mug against the counter. 

“Yeah, Matty. Thank you.” You breathed through your anxiety and wondered what happened to the man who’d been following you. 

- 

Later that evening, after he’d drawn you a bath and tucked you into bed, the Devil finally got what he wanted. Matt hadn’t mentioned it to you, but he’d been diligently tracking the stranger’s heartbeat since he’d intervened earlier that evening, and as soon as your heartbeat evened out, suggesting your deep slumber, Matt was jumping across rooftops towards the irregular heartbeat he’d been listening to all evening.  

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do once he got his hands on the guy who had followed you earlier. The blood curdling scream you’d let out was indication enough of your fear, and it echoed in Matt’s ears as he got closer to his target. 

He wouldn’t kill the man. That wasn’t a line Matt was willing to cross, but the thought certainly crossed his mind. If he’d put his hands on you, touched you with his filthy awfulness, Matt might’ve been angry enough to do it, though, and that terrified him. He’d never been so close to murder before, besides maybe with Fisk, but no one fucked with you and got away with it. He wouldn’t kill the guy, but he’d hurt him. Badly.  

Matt took a deep breath and let the Devil creep out. May God have mercy on the stranger’s soul, because the Devil surely wouldn’t.

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @soft-emo-enby @purple-amaranthe @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @alina02 @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @thedevilwearsblack @merleisapartygod @legocity2 @violet-19999 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @shoxji @layazul @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @lazyxsquirrel @honeysucklepotter @m0nster-fvcker @matthewmurdockswhore @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @scoliobean @infinityisbright @myguiltypleasures21 @thegirlwiththeeyes1297 @goddesspsyche @mxxnligxt @ladamari68 @dnxgma @evyiione @twsssmlmaa @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt

If a blind man can find the clit, then you should be able to

Who do i write for?

Pick and choose (you can also try luck and ask for someone else and maybe MAYBE i forgot about them and can write you something)

MARVEL AND DC

TV characters (and some films too)

Anime characters

Singers and actors

F1 drivers (ONLY DRIVERS, i see you coming)

Marvel and DC

Druig (Eternals)

Peter Parker (TASM)

Garfield Logan (Titans)

Matt Murdock (Daredevil)

Red Windows - Matt Murdock X Reader (Soulmate AU)

Another Day writing your Soulmate thesis for work, nothing else. That's what you thought. When the Morning dawns and a Devil ends up in your apartment, the same song stuck in both of your heads - what could go wrong? When your Soulmate ends up being a vigilante, the answer is easy to find: everything.

Set in a world, where even after Electra's Death and Daredevils partial hearing loss, Nelson & Murdock & Page are still together and never departed. This is partially due to my own stupidity and confusing the lore, but also simply because of I love the plotline but goddamn, I just want them to stay together.

Proof Read? Yeah, no.

Warnings: None. This does say Matt Murdock X Reader,can however also be seen in a platonic way. Also, maybe like Part 1? Idk, not sure tbf. Hate the ending, but here goes nothing. No use of Y/N or any placeholder

Soulmates. A thing everyone was talking about, sometimes singing so their Soulmate could hear it. Talking to someone else, one didn't know, someone far away, somewhere on this world. Or universe you guessed, considering the recent outing of a bunch of aliens, gods and more. Someone had to be their Soulmate, you guessed.

A lot of people thought Soulmates meant something romantic and were disappointed whenever they found out it was usually a platonic relationship. You should know. After all, you were studying philosophy with a focus on Soulmates. It was a topic that had interested you for a long time now and the older you had gotten, the more you had been fascinated by the mechanics of Soulmates and what the existence of these even implied. You would have preferred to go into the science field of things, however, since progress has been stagnating it was cut out of a lot of universities. So philosophy it was.

You had turned 29 a while ago, yet, had never heard your soulmate sing. Maybe whoever it was just wasn't that into it? Sometimes you sang a little tune to them, to this day to no avail. You were currently working on a thesis about Soulmates and the indications of the inevitability of future and choices and consequences, barely being able to write down all the rapidly passing thoughts on your sheet, when your best friend barged in. "It's Break Time for you and for me. Pack your things. We have an hour and I will not stand being in this office building for longer than five more minutes!"

You laughed slightly, grabbing your stuff and leaving the building right after them. They didn't wait until they started rambling to you, but you were content to listen. "So I met this girl yesterday, she was like, really cute. Short hair, ripped jeans, a flannel? Undeniably incredible taste in fashion. Also, the way she verbally decimated those guys? Absolute slay. The Guys were like trying to hit on a girl or something and wouldn't leave her alone, a real shame to be honest. She was really cute, asked her out." You smiled "That's nice, what did she say?" "That she already has a girlfriend. God, why must all the good Partners always be taken? It's so unfair!" You smiled lightly "Wouldn't know about it" Your friend gasped. "Exactly! I can't understand it, how no one sees you and wants to go out with you! Like, none of the good ones that is. I would totally try." You laughed. "Oh I would as well" "Dating yourself?" You looked at her "not my point, but totally yes."

The Break was over faster than you expected, but the work even longer. You sighed, when you looked at the clock, finally being allowed to get off. You closed your Laptop and said goodbye to the man behind the counter, who had just arrived and wished him a good and peaceful workday. Hell's Kitchen hasn't been the same for a while now, after Daredevil disappeared, the crime rate skyrocketed again, and a lot more Mutants were involved in it as well. You guessed because they didn't feel like they fit in, you couldn't blame them. The glass doors swung close behind you, the cool air of the evening of approaching fall nearly sending shivers down your spine, only nearly though. You fished out you phone and earphones out of your pocket, plugging them in and putting only one on. It was way too dangerous to walk around nearly deaf. You resumed the playlist you were listening, enjoying the song that came next, one of your all time favourites.

Take me to a light show before we go

Chemicals inside us line our bones

Your steps echoed through the street, the dark orange sky darkening slowly but surely fading into blue. The Bus station wasn't far away, and since your workplace didn't provide you with a parking spot, you took the bus. It roughly took the same time anyways.

Everybody's wasted, on their phones

Digits on the dancefloor, then our clothes

Next to the bus station there was a bakery, which you went to all the time while waiting for your bus. It wouldn't arrive for another 15 minutes, plenty enough time to buy yourself whatever you wanted. You usually opted for the same, but sometimes you felt like switching it up, like today. You asked for your order, waiting for the kind cashier to pack it.

Even if it blinds us

I'm reaching for the light within the fever

I'm reaching for your hand

You payed the cashier, taking your order and going back to the bus station.

The space between our fingers

Sparks, I feel them linger on

The bus arrived and after scanning your monthly ticket you sat down, thanking your work for not letting you get off in the middle of rush hour. The drive was quiet and you arrived home safely, deciding to get out of your work clothes and make yourself comfortable. You relaxed a bit, before deciding to head to bed, humming the melody of the song stuck in your head.

Next time let it go

Break my skin, Red Windows

So I'll know

.................…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

It wasn't morning when you woke up, and it wasn't your alarm that woke you. The crashing of a window, heavy breathing and pained groans. Despite yourself, you stood up after you heard another crash - glass, maybe your table or a glass you just hadn't put in your dishwasher yet. You armed yourself with the first thing you could find - a belt - and stalked to your living room. The man had stopped trashing around, leaning heavily on a counter, shattered glass on the floor. He was still panting, but definitely trying to hide it. It was Daredevil. Daredevil stood in your apartment. Sure. yeah. Just a normal Tuesday Night. Not to mentioned he was supposedly gone.

You didn't know what came over you, but the only thing your brain was able to scamper together was a breathy "Hi" to the Vigilante. A pained smile graced his features "Hey." You stood there for a second, before remembering that he was leaning on a counter, just shattered a glass and was probably in a lot of pain. "Oh my god, wait, let me-" You vanished to get the Frist aid kit from the bathroom, returning to him in a matter of two minutes. You never thought you'd really have to use it, you didn't really expect a crime fighting Devil to appear injured in your living room. You hadn't seen any blood in the darkness, but you were sure to turn the lights on to take care of the man.

"Alright, just sit in the couch and I'll prepare... I don't know, what do you have? Bulletwounds? Were you stabbed, slashed?" The man laughed slightly but didn't move an inch. "Do you even know how to treat wounds?" "No, but that doesn't mean you can't guide me, you must me very well versed in this field." He still didn't move. "You gonna come over here?" He hesitated but pushed himself off the counter and waddled towards you, totally not noticing the couch and swaying harshly against it. He cursed under his breath and felt along the backside until he found the seating part. "Damn, you must be really out of it, not seeing the couch like that." He chuckled nervously. "Yeah, rough night" "Did you get hit in the head?" "No" Phew, thank god. One least thing to worry about. "Okay, could you like, get rid of the suit?" "Want to see a Vigilante naked so you can give it to the press?", He joked, you laughed. "No, but maybe I want to be able to keep a secret just for myself"

He got rid of the suit, wearing a thin black shirt and pants underneath, they reminded you of those that ice-skaters wore while training sometimes. His left leg was soaked, and not in sweat or water - in blood. You bunched the thin Leggings over the injury and came face to face with a red leg and a white structure, that looked way too much like a bone to be anything else, exiting his skin. "Fuck." "Yeah" "You walked with that?" "I did more with that then walk." "And you're human? Not just Thor in disguise or something?" "Pretty sur einem, yes" "That's wild. Okay, anything else?" I got shot and stabbed in the side, don't know how they got through the suit." "Alright, alright. Yeah, sure, we can.. we can work something out. I think" He laughed again, a charming laugh, you noted. "What do I do?" "Is the bullet still inside?" You pulled him forward from his leaning position, pulling up his shirt and seeing a matching hole in the back. "No" "Okay, that's good. Now you'll have to-"

You got more comfortable with him guiding you, knowing and feeling that he knew what he was doing. Sometimes he needed to help you a bit and in the end, you were done and he was still lying on your couch, his pantleg was still bunched up and his shirt was off - it had just been easier than him needing to hold it up while also guiding and helping you. While he was putting his shirt back on and sipping on some water you had brought him, you were already cleaning up the mess. You couldn't help yourself humming that song, calming yourself down why you did so, passing by Daredevil to clean the table and floor, the couch was something to worry about later. You weren't gonna throw an injured man off of your couch just to clean his blood. "My Soulmate sings that song all the time." You looked up from the puddle of blood, mixed with water and bleach you were scrubbing at and observed the man. He had a small smile on the lips that were visible. "Your Soulmate?" He nodded "Yes, she keeps singing this song, always at the same time on weekdays. I guess she gets off of work then." "Why are you telling me this? I could use this against you." "Doubt it. You would've called an ambulance or police if you would go against me" "Maybe I'm building trust to betray you."

"Why do you want me to distrust you so badly?" You stayed silent. "It's not about me", you started after a while, "it's about you. You need to be careful. Not all are as friendly as I am" "That, I only know too well." Silence. "My Soulmate doesn't sing. Never." "Never?" "No. Not even humming. Or jingles, absolutely nothing. I heard him once, back a few years ago. He was drunk, singing something very badly. He was practically screaming." "That must have been exhausting." "It wasn't. I was absolutely ecstatic. I had heard him for the first and only time that night, while he hears me on a daily basis. Sometimes I wonder if I am bothering him, because he doesn't sing at all, or if he died. I just hope he is a good man." "I am sure he is." Before Silence could settle in again, you spoke up "When your Soulmate sings Red Windows a lot, it shouldn't be hard to find them. Only round about 200 people listened to the original on YouTube, where it came from. 200 people in the entire world, shouldn't be hard to find. Not only that, but some of these probably don't even like the song." "Could you play it for me?" You were startled. "What?" "I couldn't find the song. Could you play it for me?" "Uhh" you stood up, washed your hands thoroughly with soap and got your Phone. "Sure." You typed in the name of the song, letting it play and setting the phone down on a clean surface.

In Time let it show

Feel that scarlet Undertow

As it flows

You hummed with the song, swaying a bit to the beat and going back to cleaning. The stranger on your couch watched you.

Even if our bodies start to burn

And our passion starts to turn

I don't want our night, the night, tonight to end

So

Daredevil shifted on the couch, getting up while mainly using his uninjured leg and grabbing another cloth to help you clean the blood, sitting on the floor instead of kneeling like you were.

Next time let it go,

Break my skin, Red Windows

To my soul

So I'll know.

He grabbed your wrist mid-cleaning. "You should go to bed. This is my mess, I'll clean it. You have work tomorrow, so you should definitely get enough sleep" "But you need to rest as well" "I've had worse, you should really go to sleep. I will sleep in a bit as well." "You can stay as long as you need to. And you need to rest. Leave the cleaning to me." "Of course."

After waking up, you understood that that was a stupid request from you, seeing that he cleared the shattered glass, and that every surface was clean - the Couch still had some stains but it was mostly clean. There was breakfast on the table and a man, back turned to you, helmet off, sitting and eating. "Good Morning. I see you didn't rest like I told you." "And you did" He didn't turn his head and you didn't look at his face, when he pulled his mask over his head again, hiding his black hair. "Don't you have work to attend as well?" "I.. I do." "Then you should take a cab to work and get a coworker or friend to help you." You sat down and started to eat - scrambled egg with bacon pieces mixed together with some herb you had lying around. You didn't know what it was, your mother had brought it over when you had moved - but he seemed to know. "Shame about your window" You looked at the pieces of cloth and wood (where did he get that stuff from anyways?) covering the busted window. "Yeah, that's not gonna sit well with my wallet, I'm afraid. A shame, indeed" After the Breakfast was finished, and he was back in his superhero suit, he looked back, before walking out the fire escape. "Go to a Lawyer named Matt Murdock, he will help you" "Don't think I have money, big guy" "He doesn't take money. He takes whatever you are willing to give"

And just like that, you sat at work, sitting over a half-finished sentence in your thesis and pondering about this being a dream. The Fact you had been so unfazed probably was a sign of - no. You didn't believe you'd think his, and that this was the reason that convinced you, that it had all happened. You don't even remember what you did with the belt you were holding, it seemed like a big blurr, the moment you had seen him. You clearly remembered patching him up and all that, but God damn did you want to tell someone. And tell someone you did. Your new lawyer for a case that wasn't even a case. You didn't even know why exactly you looked him up and called him, but oh well.

"Matt Murdock, Attorney at Law. What is the reason for your call?" You gave him your name, hesitating before continuing. "This may sound weird, but Daredevil crashed into my window yesterday evening and told me to call you to get that situation sorted out." The Lawyer chuckled. A familiar voice, a familiar chuckle, you realised. It was slightly different, but you couldn't shake the feeling as if you were talking to Daredevil again. Stupid Vigilante crashing into your window and your mind. You desired emotional compensation, even though he had no negative effect on you. The Lawyer chuckling was having a lot more negative impact on your mood. Of course he wouldn't take you seriously. "Do you happen to have insurance?" You nodded, then sighed, remembering you were on the phone. "Yes, but I don't think it covers crashed window because of a Vigilante type of Damage" Another laugh "Come in with your contract and I'll see what I can do" "What about Payment?" "You don't need to pay me, if you have no money. I am only here to help" Damn. So it really was whatever you were ready to give, sure.

Since a Memory is locked in tight

Even in our dreams we'd never find

Any hidden Details, not one sign

Not even your dial tone, if not mine

Making your way to the lawyer's office, your trusty Google Maps as your guide, you silently sing the song to yourself. You took off one of your earphones when you reached the building,riding the elevator a few levels up to the designated one. There was a door with a metal tag on it. In bold, pretending letters it read Nelson & Murdock & Page. You knocked beside the tag.

But I heard it in surround sound

In a private space between that only we found

Like a feeling we can't shake

They are watching through the keyholes

Wishing they could be this close

When a blonde woman opened the door, you completely took off your headphones, stopping your music effectively. She seemed surprised. "Didn't think we'd get someone today, come on in!" You entered, slightly confused. "Uhm, I called earlier, and I was told to come in whenever I can in business hours." The Woman nodded. "Who did you speak with?" "I think it was uh... A man, Murdock, I think?" She lit up. "Ah, yes, let me just check with him really quick!" She disappeared in one of the doors, the one to the left, and reappeared a few second later. "Sorry I didn't think of you, I was on break so Matt took your call, if you could wait a minute, he will call you in." You thanked her and sat down on one of the free chairs.

You were singing under your breath, just loud enough for your ears only, when you heard you name being called by a very familiar voice, a man standing in the door that was previously unoccupied, a small, smug smile on his lips. You stood up, noticing his red tainted glasses. Unusual, you noted. "Good Day, Mister Murdock, thank you for seeing me" "I just want to help, come on in." You followed him into his office, noticing how he kept one of his hands on a surface at all times, making his way to sit at his table, a bunch of thick books laying in one corner, and - you noticed - Sheets of Paper with bumps on them. Braille. You sat down at the chair in front of the desk, while he set up a recorder. "Would it be alright if I record the conversation?" "Yes, of course." "Okay good. Then, let's start." He pressed play. "Please state your name and the reason you are here." You gave him your name again, before elaborating "Yesterday night or this morning, i didn't look at the clock, but I had already gone to bed, I was woken up by a crashing sound. I went to investigate and found the Vigilante Daredevil had crashed through my window, severely injured. I helped him and just before I went to bed he told me to call this office." "About your insurance?" "Yes." "Okay, do you happen to have the contract with you?" You affirmed once again. "What kind of contract?" "It's an Appartment I had to take because of my workplace, so it's an insurance contract with them, they pay for round-about normal insurance. Don't think those cover Superhero or Vigilante Damages"

You ended up reading the entire thing to him, not even understanding half of the stuff you were reading. He did though, obviously. You ended up staying well past opening hours, tomorrow was your free day so it was fine for you - and apparently also for the lawyer. Karen Page had left around half an hour ago, so you volunteered to find the kitchen and make some coffee and a small snack, while he worked through some of his Texts in Braille, saying something to the recorder from time to time to keep it on his mind. Quietly singing the song to yourself while searching in the small kitchen for the coffee beans.

Next time, let it go,

You found the coffe beans and put them in the grinder, positioning the first cup underneath and letting the coffee run.

Break my skin, Red Windows

After that one was done, you did the same with the second cup. Bringing the two cups back, you stopped singing under your breath right in front of the office. You opened the door with your elbow and sat down the two cups p, settling back into the chair.

"You really like that song" You didn't think he'd heard you, so you were slightly surprised. "Oh, sorry if I was too loud" Matt Murdock smiled "It doesn't really matter how loud you are, it's a good song, I've heard it on loop thelastfew days" Oh, so he already knew the song, weird coincidence, considering how unknown it was. "I have been too, it's a wonderful song." "Well, I didn't really have a choice, but definitely better than other songs I had to listen to." He didn't have a choice? "Has your Soulmate been singing it?" He didn't answer, instead sipping on his coffee, giving you a fairly cheeky smile and focusing back on his work. A few Minutes passed, when you heard him hum. You heard him hum twice.

One was in you head and the other was, well, right in front of you. You were baffled. "What?" He stopped, his eyes shielded behind the red glasses, still looking straight ahead. He gave a questioning hum. "Uh... Sorry, i just had a thought" "About us being Soulmates?" You faltered. "What? How did you know?" "Because I knew since you came in. He went to take of his red glasses, unfocused eyes looking in your direction, but feeling like they still looked past you. "I didn't want to rush, but I admit, it was a pleasant discovery." "Huh".

You eyes fell to the red tainted glasses, like Red Windows.

To my soul

Icy Adventure || Ice Skating For The First Time AU

Words: 942

Warnings: none

SUMMARY: Ice skating is your life. Matt, as your friend, wants to try it with you for the first time.

Author: Cass

A/N: AU written for @caplansteverogers​ writing challenge.

You and Matt were friends many years now. He was a great lawyer and you were a young promising figure skater. You two were really close, he was your only real best friend. Despite the fact that Matt was blind, he still was coming to see your trainings or shows and to take you back home. You could always see his smile.

It was really sweet of his, until he got this crazy idea.

You were tying up his skates. "Matty? Are you sure about that? You know you don't have to do this."

He was leaning against a balustrade separating you from the ice rink.

"Hey. I've told you before. I'll try at least. Who doesn't risk, doesn't gain success."

Matt were already having his skates on. He was waiting at you to finish with your skates.

"It may be funny."

You shook head and laughed.

"The man without fear, huh?" You said as you finished. "Okay, now we can go, Matty. Grab my arm."

slowly entered the ice rink with Matt. It felt like home, but you looked at your friend worriedly. "How is it for you?"

"Hehe hehe..." he laughed shortly and within second he ended up on the cold ice hitting himself hardly in the back. "Oh Lord! I didn't think it's gonna be so slippy!"

He slowly rolled on his tummy and knelt carefully.

"Y/N, can you?" he questioned reaching his hand. "I won't get up by my own. Not this time, haha!"

You jumped a bit when Matt fell down. "Oh God, Matty. You see? That's why I didn't like this idea. This isn't your thing." You said and took his hand to help him up. "Now slowly... one foot... now the second one."

You smiled happily when he was standing on both feet. "There you go." You grabbed both of his hands tightly. "Do you trust me, Matty?"

He was trying to stop his knees from shaking but failed, in a result his legs again started to separate.

"Let's say I do.. To be honest, in my current position even if you'd be my enemy I'd have to trust you." He laughed making few little steps to put his legs back together. "Gosh. I can't catch the balance."

You waited until he catched some balance. "I told you it's a stupid idea, Matt. Now, take few breaths and stay calm." You ordered and pushed yourself off, pulling him slowly behind you.

"I got you, Matty." You whispered and started picking up on speed a little bit.

He couldn't help. He yelled loudly, but soon his yells turned into pure laughter.

"Aaahhh! This! Is! Awesome, Y/N!"

He was holding your hands strongly securing himself from falling down again.

You laughed loudly, observing his every reaction.

"You see, Matty? This feels so amazing, that's why I love it so much. I feel free." You explained and changed your direction. "How do you feel? Do you enjoy it?"

"I do!" He let your hands to clap his own. Matt completely forgot he had to hold on you and because of the previous speed you both got, he slided furter on ice

"Y/N! Look! LOOK! I'm standing! I'm sliding!!!" he laughed happily.

Unfortunately, taking Matt was blind, it didn't help him at all in avoiding obstacles. He hit in the balustrade with the full impetus, falling down.

You watched him and hissed covering your eyes when he hit the balustrade.

You rushed to him and got on your knees. "Matty? Hey, are you okay?" You asked taking his face into your hands. "I think we should end this for today."

"One more lap! Please!"

Matt caught the balustrade and pulled up getting back onto his feet. "One last time! It's the best fun I've ever had!"

You blinked surprised. "Okay, let's go."

You used balustrade to pull yourself up, then took his hands in yours.

You took him for another two laps, but after that, you walked off of the ice.

"I hope you didn't hurt yourself too much, Matty." You asked as both of you sat down on a bench.

"Trust me, Y/N, I went through worse things than that" he giggled happily. "It was worth all of this."

He leant down to take off the skates.

"Can you take me here more often, Y/N? I would like to learn ice skating. I think when I'll practice it'll be my another attribute."

"I can... only if you will stop hit the balustrade." You said with a soft smile and leant down to take off the skates.

After few minutes you left the building holding Matt by his arm.

You nuzzled to him softly on your way to his flat.

"It was really great, Matty. You were good but you need to be more careful.

"I know. I bet with you by my side I'll learn how to bw careful."

When you got to his flat he gave you a tight hug. "Thank you once again for today, Y/N." He muttered opening the door. But before he got inside, he turned to you and grabbed your hand. Matt pulled you to him and kissed you briefly.

You blinked but kissed him back, purring quietly into the kiss and wrapping your arms around his neck.

You broke the kiss and looked at him "W... What was that, Matty?" You asked shyly with a big smile on your lips.

"Just... Something" he said blushing. "Do you want.. Come in maybe? Of course if you don't have other plans.." he offered.

You took his hand and walked Inside with him. "No... I don't have other plans." You said, closing door Behind you.