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#matt x claire
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Omg, I was just browsing through Paul Anthony Jones's "The Cabinet of Linguistic Curiosities", and did you all know flirting is technically ILLEGAL in New York??? 👀👀👀 (*** See below)
The real question is whether Mr Summa Cum Laude, officer of the law, Matt Murdock, is in fact well aware of that and has just been insouciantly going around committing more acts of criminality than just vigilantism all this time. 😂
I'm sorry, but you can't look at this shameless hussy and tell me he doesn't know exactly what he's doing! 🥴
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He's relentless! You just can't take him anywhere! 😅💗
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Not to mention Mr Sounds-Like-We're-Getting-Married/You're-Not-Gonna-Kiss-Me/Cross-My-Heart over here.🥰💕
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And where to start with these two? I can't even. 😏🔥
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Okay, he wasn't in New York here, so we'll give him a pass this time...
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In summary, the gentleman is a tramp. 🤭
I love him, Your Honour. 💋
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Don't let the innocent act fool you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury -- that is the handsome face of a shameless flirt!! ☝️☝️☝️
*throws panties the book at him*
(***)
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So he's really only innocent of fault in the case of Claire, because they weren't in public, but he's guilty as sin in all the other cases. 🤣
(Sorry, but I have a nerd's sense of humour, therefore this is very funny to me, if not necessarily anyone else. *shrug* 😅)
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florianlaurila · 1 year
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Daredevil ships but make it polyamorys
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do i think this would work out? absolutely not. is it fun to think about? yes.
(if you are curious i am a foggymatt and jennmatt type of guy myself)
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acharliecoxedfan · 1 year
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But this kiss was 🥺💕
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ibreathhere · 1 year
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*Daredevil meets people*
*Daredevil fuck people*
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takoscribit · 10 months
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@domaystic: #22, s/o on the local news Fandom: Daredevil, Matt Murdock/Claire Temple
“I. Want. To. Die.” Claire said, discarding everything on the floor.
“I heard your interview last night,” Matt greeted her from the bedroom as he heard her slump into the couch. “Right, the interview! I didn’t tell you, did I?” “Nope.” “Sorry,” she babbled tiredly, sinking into a pair of velvet cushions. “Managing a clinic is so exhausting.” “I think you're keeping up pretty well, and I must say, it was nice to hear your professional tone.” She snorted and shook her head against the backseat, making a mess of her ponytail. “You’d love it even if I were to read the subway lines timetable.” “That’s also true,” he confirmed shamelessly.
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murdock-and-co · 1 year
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going on a matt x claire bender, partly since i love her character in any appearance but also bc i love her’s and matt’s relationship: constantly sarcastic yet constantly, mutually caring. i get why in terms of character and plot development they didn’t end up together but it’s a massive shame imho
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thecrownnetflixuk · 4 months
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Let’s be real, the most exciting thing about this trailer is new (old?!) footage of CLAIRE My-name-is-Elizabeth FOY and MATT She-could-get-on-her-knees SMITH.
The Crown Season 6 Part 2 Trailer
Final Episodes: Netflix | Thurs 14th Dec 2023
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mordredisacoolname · 6 months
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yoo please do more dex headcanons, there’s a severe lack in content for him nowadays. i appreciate your work!
Hey I'm so happy you like it, thank you
Here's some more DD headcanons
DAREDEVIL CHARACTERS COMING BACK FROM WORK TO YOU SLEEPING NAKED
GN READER
Characters: Matt Foggy Karen Frank Elektra Claire Dex Ray
CW: implied smut, nothing too serious tho
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MATT- he'll probably sense you sleeping naked before he even enters the house. Smiling to himself Matt will enter the flat, stripping of his clothes and quietly entering the room not to wake you up. As much as he likes the idea of doing other things with you he knows you're tired, and he is too, so he just lays down next to you, hugging you from behind and kissing your forehead.
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FOGGY- he'll be (pleasantly) surprised, walking up to you and kissing you awake. Will tell you how hot you look, asking sarcastically if you were waiting for him. If you're up to it you two can have fun, but if you're tired or not in the mood he'll let it go immediately and cuddle next to you.
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KAREN- she'll smile to herself, eyeing you. She'll take off her heels and go up to you gently stroking your shoulder to tell you she's home. Karen will quickly kiss you, strip of her clothes and will join you in bed, asking how was your day. As you kiss her temple and hold her in your arms she'll drift off to sleep, as you are too.
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FRANK- he'll smirk, coming up to you, and cupping your upper body with his big arms. "Hey (nickname)" he'll say kissing your jaw and neck. Frank will laugh at your grumpy response, kissing you deeply and admiring your sleepy face. He'll leave you to it to finish some work and later will join you in bed.
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ELEKTRA- she'll smirk and strip of her clothes, getting on the bed and turning your head to her. She'll start kissing you and feeling your face and body with her hands until you completely wake up, and than sitting on your lap she'll jokingly say "good morning" continuing to kiss you.
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CLAIRE- she'll laugh quietly, setting her things down. She's super tired so she just lays down next to cuddling you closer.
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DEX- he's super tired and stressed from his job, so seeing you will make his day a little brighter. Stripping off his clothes he will go up to your bed, get in and hug your waist. Brushing your hair and tracing his knackels on your cheek bone he'll stare at your face in awe, obsessing over your beauty. You may or may not wake up to him eagerly kissing your neck and feeling your soft lips with his thumb.
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RAY- Ray is also very stressed, working in his line of jon isn't easy. Smiling to himself at your sight he'll go finish some of his paperwork and only than join you to bed, feeling your warm body and your soft breathing on his skin, instantly relaxing and feeling at peace.
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matt murdock: hey-
me: shut up. whore.
(affectionate) 
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amberlynnmurdock · 6 months
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Blind Faith (Ch. 14)
Chapter Fourteen: Revelations
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader
Summary: You have multiple revelations in your savior's room when you wake up.
Warnings: 18+ content, SMUT!!! unprotected sex, mentions of drugging, violence
A/N: OKAY HERE IT IS THE LARGEST UPDATE I HAVE EVER DONE. This bad boy is a whopping 9,678 words! Just some warnings/reminders: there is unprotected sex in this. Please read with caution and also (not to go all high school gym teacher on you) please practice safe sex in real life! OKAY LOL now that that's out of the way... ENJOY!
Tags at the end!
Ao3 Link
credit to gif owner!!!
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New York City 
Matt Murdock’s Friday nights were usually meant for patrolling Hell’s Kitchen. He always sat up at the rooftop of his apartment—he spent most nights there, whether it be to escape reality for a little and live in his own head, or to listen into the city for any trouble or danger. The case was always the latter, of course. As he paced under a dark sky, and as raindrops began to trickle over the city, he sat hunched in the corner of the roof, listening. Only tonight, he was listening for something in particular.
As soon as he heard you enter a taxi that took you all the way to Zach’s apartment, he bolted from his rooftop and jumped from roof to roof, to roof, until he was finally caught up with the taxi, and you were stopping in front of Zach’s apartment. Careful not to be seen, he slid down a fire escape and ran to the side of the building, waiting as he listened for you to enter the elevator that took you all the way up to Zach’s apartment. 
Matt wasn’t new to sneaking around. He slipped into the apartment lobby without being seen. Instead of taking the elevator, Matt took the stairs. After reaching Zach’s floor, he noticed his apartment took up the entirety of it, and there were strangely no hallway cameras. He slipped inside the hall after you entered his apartment. Zach locked the door behind you. 
The only hard part about this mission was listening to you and Zach talking. He listened from outside the door, against the wall, patiently. Waiting for any indication that this was a bad scene, waiting for something for Zach to do or say that showed he was lying. He listened as you faked not being impressed by the view of the city, he listened as Zach showed you his library, he heard your subtle disappointment at not looking at the law books, he listened as you finished your glass of chardonnay, and graciously accepted a second glass. 
And then, he did hear something that piqued Matt’s interest—as Zach poured your second glass of wine, he reached for something in the pocket of his pants. A small pill container, the size of a quarter. Matt couldn’t smell what the pill was. He couldn’t tell which glass he let the pill dissolve in. Maybe it was a prescription for Zach. The two of you continued on with conversation—Matt’s heart jumped when you mentioned him and Foggy’s name—and his hands created fists at Zach’s answers. Everything seemed okay—maybe the pill was for Zach, but Matt needed that confirmation. 
The next few minutes happened so fast, as Matt was trying to piece it all together and make sense of the scene he was listening in on. 
“You okay?” He heard Zach ask. Matt’s brows furrowed underneath his black mask, and all his heightened senses were focused on you. Your hands weren’t moving—they were sweaty. Your breathing was beginning to get heavier. Your throat was dry suddenly. You could barely move, and you were struggling to find your voice. And when you did, Matt’s heart dropped, and he broke into a cold sweat. 
“Something’s not right,” he heard you utter weakly. Matt wanted to barge in there now, but he needed to make sure that what was happening was true, and with every bone in his body he prayed to God that it wasn’t what he thought. He listened as Zach offered to help you lay down on the couch, but it wasn’t until Zach whispered those words you wanted to lay down that his fears were confirmed true. 
Zach must’ve not heard Matt’s first attempts at kicking his door down. With all his might, Matt rammed his right foot at the door handle, kicking and kicking until he finally made a dent in it, and he was able to knock the door down. 
An all-encapsulating rage filled Matt’s bloodstream, it felt like—it felt like he wasn’t even in control of his body. The rage was controlling his movements. He stomped over to where Zach hovered over you, as he was unbuttoning his pants, and gripped Zach’s shoulders so hard he threw him onto the dining room table. 
Without thinking, he began to punch Zach in his stomach, in his arms, his jaw. Everywhere. 
“YOU DO NOT TOUCH HER!” Matt shouted as he gripped Zach’s shirt by the collar and yelled in his face. Pulling a punch back, his knuckles met Zach’s cheekbone, again and again and again. 
“CAN YOU HEAR ME?” Matt hollered above Zach’s groans in pain. “CAN YOU HEAR ME?!” Matt hadn’t yelled this hard since the last time he ever was in the same room as Wilson Fisk. Matt’s hands were trembling with rage. 
“Y-yes,” Zach cracked, coughing up some blood. Matt threw him back on the floor and knelt on his chest, pressing on a bruise Matt’s fists had formed. 
“Listen carefully,” Matt seethed, holding Zach’s face. “You will be disbarred,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ll find your pill bottles, and tie you to this overpriced dining table, and leave you until someone finds you.”
Matt punched Zach in his chest once more before asking, “Do you like how it feels to not be in control?”
He doesn’t let Zach answer. He throws him to the ground once more and does exactly what he said he would—instead of sensing for the pills, he sensed for the containers. After finding them, Matt dragged Zach’s beaten body to the table and tied him with the dining room tablecloth so tightly, that his arms would probably lose all sense of feeling in an hour. Matt threw the pill bottles in his lap. 
Feeling that cold sweat over himself again, Matt immediately ran to your side. You lay unconscious on the couch.
He whispered your name. 
“It’s me,” he said, even though he knew you couldn’t hear him, “I’m here.” He placed his fingers on your pulse—it was there, but it was slow and faint. 
Without wasting time, Matt took you in his arms and escaped Zach’s apartment down the stairs. There was nowhere else to go but his own. 
⠋⠁⠊⠞⠓
Matt busted down his rooftop access door and immediately rushed to his bed with you in his arms. Gently laying you down, he ripped off his mask and searched for his burner phone on the nightside table. 
“Claire,” Matt said hurriedly on the phone, “I know it’s late, but I need you.”
“Hi Matt, it’s nice to speak with you too,” Claire said sarcastically over the phone. 
“I have an emergency,” Matt said in a hushed tone. With one ear pressed to the phone, the other focused on you. You were lying so still, and your heartbeat was faint. He could tell your body temperature was rising into a fever. “Could you come to my apartment?”
“What’s wrong?” She asked with worry in her voice. “Are you hurt?” 
“Not me,” Matt shook his head, “it’s a young girl. Twenty-one. She was drugged and now she’s unconscious and I think she’s got a fever now.”
“Jesus, twenty-one? Why didn’t you take her to the hospital?”
“I—I can’t,” Matt said, “I’ll explain when you’re here. Just please come. I’m worried. Her heartbeat it’s… it’s slow. Like, really slow.”
“I’ll be right over.”
Matt clicked his phone shut and immediately went to kneel by your side. He took your delicate hand in his and held it to his lips, eyes closed. Your heart was so faint, it was a struggle for his senses to focus on it. Closing his eyes, Matt whispered a prayer against your hand.
“Be near her in time of weakness and pain, sustain us by your grace…”
Your skin felt so hot in his—it seemed your temperature had spiked. 
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “This shouldn’t have happened. Not to you.” And when he spoke these words, he wasn’t sure what exactly he was sorry for—he couldn’t narrow it down to one thing. He was sorry he lied to you. He was sorry you didn’t know the truth. He was sorry he broke your heart and you needed mending and this is what happened. In every single way, he blames himself for what happened to you tonight. He’ll blame himself forever; forever beg for your forgiveness. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, against your knuckles. 
He stays like this for a long time, kneeling next to you and holding your hand, until he hears Claire’s knock at his door. 
Matt lets her inside immediately—he can sense she has her usual first aid kit along with a bigger suitcase, one he wasn’t familiar with. 
“Thank you,” Matt breathed out. “She’s in my room.” 
Claire began to unpack her kit and suitcase. Matt listened from the corner of his room, giving her some space. She had a stethoscope and thermometer, and inside the larger kit was a portable IV drip. Matt listened as Claire unpacked the IV drip, standing it next to the bed. She pulled out an IV packet and laid it on the side table. She placed the stethoscope on your chest, right over your heart. It was still very slow. Matt felt a tightness in his chest.  
“She was drugged?” Claire asked.
“Yes,” Matt affirmed. 
“Do you know who did it?” 
Matt tightened his fists. “Yes.”
“Looking at your bloody knuckles, I don’t even have to ask what you did to him.”
“He’ll be disbarred.”
“Disbarred? Wait—a lawyer did this to this poor girl? Matt, how do you know her again?” 
He sighed and ran his hand over his face. Obviously, he hasn’t told anyone about you. He’s wanted to talk to someone about it, but never found the strength to—not even in confession. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, I’ve got all night.” 
Matt moved to sit at the edge of his bed, near you. By how Claire was kneeling and looking at Matt, he knew there was no escaping the situation. She had such a way over him that he ended up confessing more than he intended to. It was just the way things were between them. 
He sighed again before he spoke. 
“I saved her one night,” Matt began, “at the beginning of the summer. She was out with her friends. She went back to the bar she was at to get her wallet. She was alone. A few guys stopped her on her way home, with ill intentions, but I saved her.”
“Okay,” Claire gently urged, knowing it didn’t stop there. 
“I…I didn’t expect this to happen. She started talking to me, and I ended up walking her home that night. I didn’t think I’d run into her again. But then, I did. Another night. This time, she was saving another girl from some asshole boyfriend. She was almost attacked again.”
“Seems like you have a type,” Claire said with irony in her voice. 
“I saved her again. She asked me to teach her self-defense, so I did. And then… I just kept coming to her. Every night this summer, on her roof. I wanted to be with her.” 
She was silent for a moment. “Does she know who you are?” 
“No,” Matt shook his head, “and that’s the worst part.”
“Jesus, Matt,” Claire shook her head. “Why wouldn’t you tell her who you are if you felt something for her? You just kept this lie going?” 
“Because she ended up getting hired at my firm. I—I didn’t know she applied. Karen interviewed her and wanted to hire her. I couldn’t tell her.”
“You could’ve,” Claire argued, “you so could have, Matt.” Claire’s exhale said it all—it was a sound Matt was used to hearing from his friend: a sound of disappointment, exasperation, one that asked what were you thinking?
“She’s…young, Matt.”
“Age has nothing—“
“That’s not what I mean. I mean, I don’t know her, but when I was her age, I was naive as hell and thought everyone around me had good intentions. So when someone you think is close to you, someone you trust, hurts you, it hurts a thousand times more than it should. A thousand times.”
“I know, Claire,” Matt said, “I know.”
“Then, why lie?”
“I didn’t want anything to ruin what we already had. Like, her finding out that the person she’s been seeing is actually her boss,” Matt said, and he never really spoke these thoughts aloud. When he did, he once again, realized how fucked up the situation really was—his lying, in both parts of his life. 
“Sounds like you selfishly withheld the truth so you wouldn’t lose her.”
“Right,” he digressed. 
“But something tells me now, you may lose her either way.”
“I already lost her. One night, she tried to take my mask off while we, you know, and I—I lost it. I yelled at her. Told her I wasn’t ready. She told me she never wanted to see me again. She told me she loved me, and it wasn’t fair what I was doing to her.”
“She was absolutely right,” Claire said. 
“She was wrong about how she thought I felt about her, though.” 
“I know how you are, Matt,” Claire said softly, changing her demeanor from before. “You push the people you love away. It’s a terrible habit.” 
“I didn’t want to push her away,” Matt argued. “I wanted her, more than anything. I was afraid to lose her. I thought that keeping the secret would afford me that luxury. The truth is, I don’t deserve her.” 
“Stop,” Claire said. “Enough with the Catholic self-loathing. That alone is enough to push people away. If you want her, you tell her the damn truth, and you fight for her! If you already lost her twice, it sounds like you have only one chance to make it right.” 
He stayed silent. If only he was so lucky to still have one more chance with you. 
He listened as Claire took your temperature and placed the back of her hand on your forehead. 
“Jesus,” Claire uttered. “She’s burning up. 104 degrees.” 
“The side effects?” 
“Rohypnol is a very strong sedative, hypnotic drug. Just one pill can knock you out for hours. She’s—it’s not good, Matt. I think he gave her a high dose to burn up like this.”
Matt shut his eyes tight, in an attempt to control his anger. “How long will she be out? What does she need?”
“It depends. She’ll definitely need you by her side because she may be really anxious when she wakes up. It’s another side effect. Plus confusion and nausea. You’ll need to talk to her calmly. She needs sleep, plenty of water, and this IV I’m putting in now.”
“Okay,” Matt nodded. “Do you think she’ll be out the whole night?” 
“I don’t know,” Claire shrugged, “but you need to make sure you are here with her, or else if she wakes up to an empty room, she’ll panic. She needs you here.”
“I’m not leaving her side.” 
“She needs you, Matt. As in, Matt Murdock. Not vigilante boyfriend.”
“I know,” he breathed. “I know.” 
“I didn’t know what to expect so I brought some clothes for her. She can change into them when she wakes. Otherwise, just make sure she drinks water. It’ll have to be flushed out of her system. It’s going to be rough if she wakes up earlier than six hours after the drug, and it’ll take another 12 hours for it to be out of her system. I think she should stay here for the weekend.”
“That’s fine,” Matt nodded. “She’s safe here.”
“I know she is,” Claire said. “I’ll leave the kit so you can take her temperature—unless your abilities can do that. Otherwise, you know what else to do.” 
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After Claire left, Matt stood in his room for a moment, standing over his bed with you in it. Tuning out the light rain that had begun, he listened to your chest as it gently rose and gently fell. You made no movements at all except to breathe. He sensed that your shirt was still more than half unbuttoned. Careful to not touch your skin, he buttoned it all the way back up. 
He closed his eyes and focused all of his senses on you. Your body temperature was still high. You’d likely get chills from it. He threw his silk blanket over you and found some more blankets to put at the foot of the bed, in case you wanted more. He fetched a glass of water and placed it on the nightside table. With one final pause, Matt retreated to his living room and to his couch.  
For a while, he just laid there, hand over his heart, the other under his head. He listened to you through his sliding doors, sleeping. A great part of him was concerned for you, but the other part of him was wondering how you would react when you woke up. From waking up in his bed to realizing what had happened—would you remember it all, or would the side effects be too strong? And of course, when he decides to tell you who he is, how will you react? The one thing he has been trying to avoid this entire time will now be reality. He wonders, if he had told you from the beginning, would this all have ever happened? 
He’s imagined having a relationship with you as Matt Murdock. He imagined late nights at his apartment, with you studying and him coming home from a late-night patrol. He imagined talking about law with you, drinking with you, kissing you, leading you to the bed he’s imagined laying you in countless times. Yes, he’s wanted you in his bed, but not like this. Not like this. If the guilt he felt was bad before, it was nothing compared to now. 
An hour passes. And then two, and then three, and Matt’s counted each breath you’ve taken. Your heartbeat was steady now, not slow like it was before. Your fever was still high, and you’ve begun to shake in your sleep. He almost wants to get up and put more blankets on you but— he pauses—you’ve shifted in bed. Your heart starts pounding loudly in your chest, in his ears—you’re awake, and you’re scared, like Claire said you would be. 
Matt sits up from the couch and listens as you reach for more blankets. You’re breathing is shaky and your heart is still pounding so hard in your chest. He knows it’s now or never. Slipping his black mask on over his face, one last time for you, he walks slowly to his room and slides the doors open. 
“M-Mike?” Your quivering voice feels like a million tiny pricks in Matt’s heart. It’ll be the last time you ever call him Mike. “What—you brought me here?”
“Yes,” he answers, and he realizes this is the first time he’s speaking to you as your savior in a long time. God, it made him realize how much he had to say to you. So many things were limited to work, to be cordial, to pretend he doesn’t miss how you feel against him, and now that he has another chance, he knows he can’t mess this up. This moment is so delicate for the two of you, but especially you—he’s walking slowly and pauses immediately when he senses you flinch in bed. The reaction breaks his heart.
“It’s me,” Matt reassures you, “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know,” you quivered, pulling your knees to your chest. “I don’t know why I flinched.”
It’s no time for Matt to be angry right now, angry that that piece of shit has given you trauma. Matt packs his anger away in a box and mentally shoves it in the back of his mind. He needs to be soft with you right now. Gentle. That’s what you need. And he wants to be that for you. 
“It’s okay,” Matt whispers, and now his own heart is beating hard in his chest. He’s not used to you being so…small. Vulnerable. A lump forms in his throat. He needs to be near you. “Can I sit next to you?”
“Yeah,” you squeak, and Matt can hear the desperation in your voice. “Yes.” 
“Okay,” he quickly says, and he sits on his bed near your knees. You’re still shaking. He wants to wrap his arms around you—tell you it’s okay. But it’s not. “How do you feel?” He asks, even though he knows it’s a stupid question. Truthfully, he’s not sure where to begin. 
“I can’t stop shaking like I have a fever,” you say through chattering teeth. Your body is twitching from the chills. “My head is pounding. My throat is dry.”
“You have a fever,” Matt says, “but the IV is helping bring it down.”
“Did you hook me up to it?” 
“No. A friend did,” he said. 
“Mike,” something in your voice changes: you sound uncertain, scared, confused. Everything Claire said you would be, you are. Anxious, frightened. You can’t remember. “What happened to me?” Your voice cracked as you asked your question. Not even Matt’s mask could cover the fact he was nearly trembling too. Matt swallows his pain away and clenches his jaw. 
“Nothing happened to you,” Matt tries to reassure you, but he knows there’s more to unpack. Later. “I didn’t let him.” 
“Did he… I felt like everything was fine and then suddenly I couldn’t walk. Did he slip my drink something?”
Matt only nodded. “You’re experiencing the side effects now. It’ll be in your system for 12 hours, but the IV is flushing it out.” 
“Oh my, God,” you cried. Tears welled so fast in your eyes, that they pooled down your cheeks, and the room smelt overwhelmingly like salt. You cried and cried, and Matt thought that while he was well-prepared for the darkness of life, the heaviness that this curse he has brings him, nothing could prepare him for the sound of you in pain. Nothing. He never wanted to hear you like this again. You weren’t supposed to know this pain. This shouldn’t have happened. 
Honestly, being in this mask around you made Matt feel sick. It suddenly felt so tight on his face, like he was being suffocated. He couldn’t do it anymore—he couldn’t hide from you. He couldn’t hide his feelings anymore. He didn’t want to console you as your savior. He wanted to as Matt Murdock. 
He says your name, ever so softly. “You’re with me.”
And slowly, Matt unties his mask and pulls it over and off his head. 
For those few short moments, he doesn’t know what to make of your reaction.
⠋⠁⠊⠞⠓
“Matt,” You could barely form syllables, let alone words, when you squeaked out Matt Murdock’s name. You didn’t even truly believe you said his name when you saw his face. A tornado of thoughts swarmed in your head: Matt? How is this even…he’s blind—your boss?! Your savior is Matt Murdock? It’s been him all along? 
It’s as if the sight of him alone took away every chill in your body, and you felt even more hot than you did before. Your heart started to pound again, and your tears dried on your cheeks. You weren’t sure for how long you were speechless, but in those moments you tried to put together the puzzle in your head of how this could be possible, but you couldn’t get the pieces to fit. Nothing made sense.
You ran a hand over your face and blinked really hard before opening them again to still see Matt Murdock sitting on this bed—his bed—with you. Concern was etched over his hazel eyes—you were still reeling in this revelation. Your boss, Matt Murdock. Who gave you daily tasks at work, who you helped write briefs with, who you went over his cases with, Matt Murdock who you went out after work with to Josie’s, Matt Murdock who got mad at you for putting yourself in danger, Matt Murdock who you desperately wanted approval from so badly because you admired his work, Matt Murdock who you shared early mornings with at the office, Matt Murdock who took his coffee black, Matt Murdock who encouraged you in your legal career…
And then it dawned on you—like, really dawned on you, all at once. 
This wasn’t only Matt Murdock, but this was your savior, too. Your savior who saved you all those months ago on your way home from the bar; your savior who walked you home that very first night; your savior who saved you again, your savior who met you on your rooftop and taught you self-defense; your savior who kissed you on your rooftop, your savior who has touched you—oh my fucking, God. 
“I’m going to throw up,” you felt an overwhelming fullness in your stomach and chest, and your mouth suddenly became very watery, that familiar feeling of your body preparing itself to vomit. Without hesitation, Matt immediately ran to the bathroom and fetched a garbage pail. You grabbed it from his hands and leaned over his bed, throwing up bitter bile and liquid. The nausea you felt compared with the shock was a lot for you right now. You felt Matt reach to pull your hair back but you swatted his hand away, in surprising frustration. 
God, you felt so fucking angry right now. And you wanted to yell at him like he was your savior, but then again, he was also your boss, and that didn’t feel right either. Coupled with anxiety and nausea and that strange dryness of sadness you felt all over your body, you placed the pail on the ground and fell on your back, trying to focus on not feeling nauseous. 
“Nausea is a side effect,” Matt says softly. A side effect of what? The drugs, or finding out you’ve been my boss this entire time? 
“Is it,” you breathed. You really didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t know how to talk to him. You couldn’t even look at him. You lay on your back, facing up at the ceiling. His ceiling. 
“Do you need—“
“I don’t know what I need,” you cut him off. You leaned up on your elbows, looking at him. He looked concerned, worried. Like he didn’t know what to say either. “I don’t know how to talk to you,” you began to shiver again from the chills. “I don’t know if I should talk to you like my savior or my boss.”
“Just talk to me,” Matt furrowed his brows. 
“You? Talk to you?” You questioned. “I—I don’t even know who that is. I’m—I’m infuriated right now. I’m confused how this is possible. You’re—you’re Daredevil? I don’t understand.”
“It’s a long story,” Matt started to say, but you cut him off again. 
“A long story, like how you ended up being both my affair and my boss?” 
He was silent for a moment, his gaze falling short of your chin. Something flashed over his face—realization. 
“You’re upset,” he plainly states. 
“I’m not upset,” you frowned, “I feel…I feel betrayed. I feel like a fool. I… I feel like an absolute mess right now. I wake up, in your apartment, feeling grateful you saved me again from a predator, and then, I finally find out who you are, and all over again I feel like a fucking idiot. Like this is some sick joke.”
“It’s not,” Matt said, “you’re not an idiot.”
“Clearly you think I am,” you argued, “for you to pretend like you didn’t know me this whole time.”
“I didn’t pretend until after your interview.”
“After my interview,” you repeated, “right at the beginning of the summer.”
“Yes,” Matt answered. “I didn’t know you would apply to the firm. I didn’t know we would have this connection before. I didn’t know.” 
“But…you still kept coming to me,” you said in disbelief, “you kept coming to see me, knowing you were my boss now, and the things we did—I feel—I feel so violated. I feel gross. Now that I know it was my boss—you—who I was doing those things with. You… you touched me,” you squinted your eyes at him. “I—I told you that I love you.” 
“I know,” Matt swallowed and looked away. “I know.” 
And that’s all he had to say. You scoffed at him and shook your head. 
“Did you think revealing yourself to me would change anything?” 
“I didn’t know how you’d react. But I wanted you to know because I’m done pretending around you.” His calm demeanor didn’t match your uncertain, upset one. 
“And it took me nearly getting raped for you to finally make that decision,” you jabbed. You were still shaking, but now you weren’t sure if it was from the chills you had or anger. “I wasn’t worthy of it before.” 
Matt furrowed his brows, lips parted—you struck something in him. He shook his head. “__,” he said your name, “that’s not at all why. I care about you so much more than I’ve ever cared for anyone.”
“You lied,” you whispered, ignoring his reasoning. “You lied to me. You sat in your office every day, knowing that at night we’d meet at my rooftop and you’d touch my naked body and kiss me and you showed up the next day like nothing. You—God, and this is the worst part—you knew how badly I was hurting when we fought that one night and you came in every day asking how I was. I—God, I even confided in you about… you… and I didn’t even know it. And you gave me advice. You even lied then.”
“You’re right,” Matt nodded, “I lied. __, I haven’t felt a connection with someone in a long time. You changed that. You changed so much for me. And what we had was—is—special. I didn’t want anything to mess that up. If you had found out after the fact that I was who I was, I was afraid to lose you. I—I didn’t know what to do. I admit it. I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I lied. I will never forgive myself for it.” 
“I’m not sure I can forgive you,” you whispered in return, feeling your heart beating fast. You started to feel nauseous from sitting up and began to lay back down, too weak to continue to argue, too anxious to look at him. It felt like a gate was closing around your heart. Thick chains wrapped around it, with one single lock holding it shut. Once, he may have held the key. 
“You don’t have to,” Matt said after a long pause.
“I know I don’t,” you said obviously. Tears welled in your eyes and your throat suddenly felt very tight. “God, this is so weird and fucked up,” you said as the levity of this revelation fell all over you. “When I didn't know who you were, moments before, I might’ve heard angels sing when I realized you were the one to save me from that awful man. But now, I feel tricked all over again. I want you to go away, but at the same time, I want you to never leave me again.”
“I won’t leave,” Matt said with a quiet urgency, his brows furrowed. “Not ever again.” 
“Maybe you should,” you said.  
You didn’t know what else to say. The man you were pining after for months turned out to be right under your nose the entire time. The man you lost sleep over, the man you cried over, was sitting next to you and he was your boss. You felt anxiety creeping on your skin, and you couldn’t stop shaking. 
“I’m so cold,” you tried to turn on your side avoiding moving the IV in your arm. You closed your eyes, the heavy feeling of exhaustion in your eyes. You felt Matt put more blankets over you before he got up and did as he was told. 
The weight he had on the bed disappeared as soon as he stood up. When the weight of him was gone, you felt instant regret. He walked outside of his room and slid the door shut again, leaving you alone. It was then you finally cried yourself to sleep. 
⠋⠁⠊⠞⠓
The loudest crack of thunder shook you awake. One of those sounds that sends you into a mini panic until you get a sense of your surroundings. Heart pounding, eyes searching for a threat in your room. Then you realize this isn’t your room, it’s Matt’s. 
Still feeling the side effects from the drugs, you weakly reached out to grab the glass of water that sat on the nightside table. You finished the whole thing in a few gulps. Settling back down on Matt’s silk sheets, you looked around his room as the rain started to fall hard on the roof. 
The roof made you think of all the times he’s met you on yours. So many late nights you spent with him, lost in kisses and touches. You could imagine it now. His half-covered face, dark silhouette waiting for you, arms open for an embrace. The person you longed for all this time turned out to be Matt Murdock, the person you had so much respect for. Now, things were strange because those two people ended up being the same person. It was Matt you were kissing. It was Matt you loved. It was Matt you exiled and it was Matt you missed, all this time. It was Matt who saved you tonight. 
You felt another urge to cry, and you did. Tears fell on his silk pillowcase. You were upset, but not at him anymore. Flashbacks of the night before reeled in your mind. Zach’s devilish smile, his gentle urgency at offering you wine, leading you to the couch, and… 
A cold shiver went down your spine. You couldn’t remember anything else, and that terrified you. Your skin started to crawl—you wanted to rip this IV out of your arm but knew that wasn’t an option. You lay on your back in frustration, staring at Matt’s ceiling. 
Why did this happen? Why did you feel this pain? Why did Zach drug you? Why did Matt lie? Why did this happen? Why? Why? Why? 
Your eyes welled with tears again, that thick feeling only sadness could bring all over your body. It was a suffocating feeling, to feel so attacked in many parts of your life. All you wanted was your savior to be honest. All you wanted was help with law school. Your tears stained the silk pillow you lay on. 
You felt an overwhelming feeling of not wanting to be alone. Alone in this room, alone in this bed. The one person you wanted to see was your savior, and that turned out to be Matt. And you didn’t want to see him right now, but it was hell to lie to yourself like this. 
“Matt,” you weakly called. He was probably sleeping, what was the use? “Matt…”
Not even a moment later the sliding doors were opened, and in came Matt without his mask on, worry all over his face, brown hair tussled like he was just lying down. He immediately knelt beside you. A warmth spread over your chest at the sight of him. 
“I’m here,” Matt whispered. “What’s wrong?”
Another crack of thunder and you jumped from the noise. 
Everything about him was starting to become familiar, like a blurred image coming into focus. The more you looked at his lips, the more you thought how obvious it should’ve been. You ignore his question. Everything is wrong. 
“Just stay here,” you whispered, “please. The thunder.” 
He nods, and sits patiently, waiting for another command from you. He looks so worried. You stare up at his senseless eyes, wondering if he really was blind. Of course he was, you push the thought away. You didn’t understand it, but he was certainly blind. His gaze fell on your right shoulder. You’ve never been this close to him before, as Matt Murdock. 
“I keep trying to imagine you with the mask,” you reach up suddenly and place the back of your hand over his face, just above his nose, like a mask. He takes your hand off his face and instead holds it, smiling sadly. It’s then you see how bloody and bruised his knuckles are, and the picture becomes even more clear. All those times you saw him with wounds, the times you’ve offered a bandaid, were from his activities as Daredevil.
“What did you do?” You found yourself asking. “To him?” You were mesmerized by the way his knuckles looked a mix of purple and red. It looked painful. 
He shook his head at first. It felt wrong for you to know the lengths of violence he was capable of. “I hurt him badly,” Matt spoke evenly, “for what he tried to do to you.” His hazel eyes were soft, eyelids half moons. Even to hear Matt’s voice gave you shivers. 
“It looks like some of those hits might’ve ricocheted to you,” you commented, holding his hand in the dim light of his nightside table. “And this is just from tonight, huh? I don’t know how you deal with this pain every night. I can’t even handle it now, and I didn’t take anything physical.”
“People like you aren’t supposed to know this pain.”
“And neither should you,” you gently argued. 
Matt pressed his lips together. Something behind his words made you think of all the times he’s told he is Catholic. 
“It was hard,” you felt your tears well again, “to be in that position. I didn’t think I’d make it out there unharmed. Thank God you were there. I keep replaying it in my mind, and these images of him over me keep intruding, and I just get scared again.”
“I could hear it,” Matt said, “in your heartbeat. That something was wrong.” 
“What do you mean? Like your heightened senses?”
“Yes,” Matt nodded, “I can hear your heartbeat. It can tell me when you’re lying, excited, nervous, or scared.”
You were quiet for a moment, realizing Matt probably listened to your heartbeat during the entirety of your affair, and you had no idea. You felt a pang in your heart this time, realizing how unfair it was he could hear if you lied, but you never knew he lied to you. 
“Tell me,” you whispered, “did you ever catch me in a lie?”
“No,” Matt answered, understanding your message. “Never.” 
“I still can’t mesh the two of you together,” you thought aloud, “That the person I fell in love with is the same person who’s kneeling next to me. It’s weird. And you’re the person I spent mornings with, making small talk. Making you coffee. Seeking your approval.”
Matt’s eyebrows lifted at your last sentence. “My approval?”
“If it wasn’t obvious before Matt, I happen to have respect for your work. When you got mad at me that one time, I was crushed. It was like being scolded by a favorite teacher, or mentor. Now, it makes a whole lot more sense to me why you reacted the way you did. You were reacting as my savior, not as my boss.”
“There’s nothing you needed to do to prove yourself to me,” Matt said. “I knew from the moment I met you you were a pure, kind person. Smart. With a tendency to talk back,” he let himself laugh. “You’re going to make an amazing attorney one day.”
“And at night,” you choked up at your words for some reason—you were emotional all around. You felt stretched thin and your emotions felt intense, like you didn’t know what to feel first. “At night, you were the one I always waited for. The one I needed to be held by. The one I needed to—to kiss, and touch and be with. The one I grew so attached to,” your voice quivered. “God, the things we did together,” you shut your eyes tight, cringing at the memories of your savior—Matt—making you shake from an orgasm, wet from his touch alone, his lips on yours… it was all with him. 
Matt shifted as he listened to you speak. He didn’t know what to say. 
“That’s why you never let me return the favor,” you realized. While you were still reeling in you did sexual things with your boss, part of you was thankful he never took advantage of you like that. He could’ve. He absolutely could’ve. But he didn’t. Did that make it better? You weren’t sure. You were still lied to. 
“Do you regret it?” He asked. “Doing those things with me?”
“No,” you said, after some thought. “If you’re the same person I fell in love with, then no. Do you regret it?”
“I only regret not telling you it was me sooner,” Matt answered. “But I can never regret those moments we shared together. More than the physical things. Everything with you, I hold to my heart,” he took your hand and placed it on his chest, so you could feel his heartbeat. It was beating fast. 
“I can’t read heartbeats,” you said, “what are you feeling?”
“Afraid,” Matt replied. “I’m afraid to lose you. Again.”
“Then help me understand,” you whispered, tears in your eyes. “That it really is you.”
Your hands lay folded on your stomach. With his gaze softly on your neck, Matt reached his right hand and covered it over your hands. He felt warm and strong—a feeling you knew all too well. You gasped at the contact, even though it was so small. You knew your savior and Matt was one and the same from his touch alone. You looked at him through bleary eyes. 
“It’s me,” Matt whispered. “It’s always been me.”
“This is strange,” you said softly. “I watched what I said around you at work. I wanted to impress you so badly. I wanted to learn from you. At night, when I didn’t know it was you, I just—this is going to sound weird—I just wanted to feel you. Be near you. You made me feel so safe. And I can tell you anything and be myself.”
“You can still feel all of that,” Matt gently said, reaching the back of his hand to caress your face. “It’s me.”
“That’s going to be a tough threshold to cross, and I can’t do that alone.”
“What do you need, then? Anything, and I’m there with you.”
You took a deep, sleepy breath. There truly only was one way to cross this threshold of uncertainty. 
“I need you to kiss me,” you said. 
Matt listened to your heartbeat for a few moments to make sure that you weren’t lying. He wanted to be certain that this was what you needed. Truthfully, it's what he needed, too—desperately. 
With his one hand still on your stomach, and the other brushing your hair out of your face, Matt closed his eyes, and slowly filled the small space between your faces. You closed your eyes as well. Just as the hint of his lips was on yours, barely a millimeter apart, Matt paused, let your lips brush for a moment, before he put his lips gently on yours and kissed you ever so softly. You melted in the kiss like you always have. Yes, it was certainly him—your savior. 
He kissed you with a gentle urgency, his nose pressed on your cheek. Forehead to forehead. You placed your fingers on his chin, like you always did before you were going to kiss him. You gently moved his face to yours and leaned in again to kiss him softly. Matt closed his eyes and with a new urgency kissed you again, placing his hand on your neck. He breathed in your scent, and felt your velvety skin under his fingers. You opened your mouth, inviting Matt to enter with his tongue, and at the contact, you gasped. 
“Oh my, God,” you said, and Matt pulled away from you like he’s been burned. 
“What’s wrong?” He asked out of breath. 
“It really is you,” you breathed, chasing after his lips with yours. 
“It is,” he said against your open mouth. 
You pull away again, that uncomfortable feeling of knowing it was Matt. Was it uncomfortable, or was it that thrill you felt the very first night you kissed your savior? 
“We can stop,” Matt offered, lips wet from your kiss. You ran your fingers through his brown hair, your fear of letting him in slowly fading the more you looked at him. This was your savior, this was Matt. You shook your head. 
“I don’t want to stop,” you said softly. “Kiss me again, and make me understand.” 
Matt wasted no time in doing as he was told. He shut his eyes and focused his senses on all of you. Your heart was beating in his ears, and he was grateful it was from excitement and not fear. Finally, he could kiss you without hiding. He licked your bottom lip and gently placed his hands on the back of your neck, lifting you to meet him more comfortably. When he felt you tug at his hair, Matt lifted himself on his bed with his knee. He felt your legs spread under the silk blanket and felt you wrap your arms around him, bringing him closer to you. You placed both hands on his face, Matt kneeling between your legs now. It felt dangerous to be this close to you, closer than he ever has before. Your legs were spread, and he could already sense your wetness pooling in your panties. He could smell your delicious scent. You started to shake again, and Matt stopped. 
“Are you okay?” Matt pulls back and places both hands on your shoulders. “You’re shaking.” Your legs started to shake around him.
“Yes,” you said. You leaned up and met him for a kiss, lips clashing and torsos touching. Wrapping your legs around him through the blanket, you brought him closer to your body, and felt him through the sheets. Matt’s whole body, on yours, fully clothed and separated by blankets. There’s no denying and no stopping what’s about to happen between you. 
“Closer,” you pleaded. Matt stepped off the bed and pulled the sheets from off of you. You took your skirt off but struggled with your shirt from the IV. Matt chuckled, and that familiar smug smile on his face made you want to wipe it off with a kiss. 
“Let me help,” he said softly. You laid your arms flat on the bed and watched as Matt leaned down to slowly unbutton your shirt. You shut your eyes, pushing the thought of that awful man away. This was Matt leaning over you, your savior touching each button slowly, Matt’s gaze falling on your chest. The thrill of it being Matt was a lot, but you realized you’re nothing he hasn’t touched before. 
When your shirt was fully unbuttoned, Matt slipped it off your arms easily. You watched as he also took off his shirt, and you raised your eyebrows in shock. You knew he was built from the times you’ve touched him, but nothing prepared you for his toned and muscled naked torso. 
“Can I take this off?” Matt tugged at the loop of your skirt. You nodded. 
“Please.”
Matt unzipped your skirt and slowly dragged it down your legs, leaving kisses on the way. You couldn’t stop shaking.
“You’re shaking, sweetheart,” Matt said softly, and God, the flips your heart did when he called you that nickname, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes,” you breathed, “yes, Matt.” The more you said his name, the more comfortable you felt with knowing he was your savior, this whole time. 
Matt leaned over you again, moved the hair out of your face and kissed your forehead. You ran your fingers over his bare torso and wrapped your legs around him, putting pressure on where you needed it most. Matt kissed your forehead, your nose, back to your lips. When he heard your heartbeat pick up again, he whispered in your ear. 
“It’s me,” he whispered, “It’s always been me.”
“Okay,” the feelings you felt were overwhelming now. Your chest felt full when Matt leaned down to kiss you slowly again. He began to pepper kisses on your cheek, your jawline, your neck. And he kissed you for a long time on your neck. You lightly moaned at the contact. 
“Mm,” you moaned softly as Matt kissed your neck again. Goosebumps formed all over your arms and back, and you shivered against him. Matt missed hearing you like this as much as he missed kissing you. He felt your nipples harden against him. Your sex was wet through your panties, aching to be touched. 
“Can I touch you again?” Matt asked in a deep voice in your ear, pulling back from the neck kisses. 
“Please,” you whispered. Matt’s eyes were half moons as his gaze fell on your chin. First, he slowly ran his hand from your neck to your right breast, gently squeezing and kneading it. He felt your nipple harden in the palm of his hand, and he had to stifle his moan. Matt leaned down to kiss your collarbone before he kissed the supple skin of your breast around your nipple. You bit your lip and closed your eyes. Matt could feel the heat pulsating from your pussy, but he wanted to take his time. 
“Matt,” you whispered. He liked hearing you say his name. His real name. 
“Matthew,” he gently corrected against your skin because God he needed to hear you say his full name. 
“Matthew,” you whispered again. Matt wrapped his lips around your nipple, and a jolt of pleasure spread all over your back as he began to suck the sensitive bud. His tongue began to flick your hardened nipple back and forth, back and forth, and you curved in the bed. 
“Oh,” you chanted as he kept licking and sucking your nipple. He played with your other nipple with his fingers before he pulled back and kissed you between your breasts. 
“It’s me,” he says again. He begins to kiss you down your stomach and stops right at your panties, which are soaked with your wetness. Before he does anything, Matt kisses either of your thighs and slowly pulls your panties off. He takes off the rest of his clothing too, so you are both naked. Though he can’t see you—he can only feel you. And God, do you feel so soft and wet. Your skin has goosebumps all over. You haven’t stopped shaking. Matt can hear your heartbeat in his ears, can sense how wet you are in his bed. 
The ache for him is too much, your pussy is throbbing to feel him inside you. Matt leans down and you tug on his brown hair. Matt breathes in your scent before he places his tongue on your pussy and licks up slowly to your sensitive clit. 
“Oh, God,” you breathe, “Matthew.”
Matt groans against your pussy and begins to lick your wetness faster. He spreads your pussy with his fingers and licks your sex. He presses his lips gently on your clit and sucks, and the intense feeling of pleasure leaves you wanting more. You thrust your pussy onto his face as he continues to lap at your juices. He takes your hand and holds it. 
“Mm,” you moan in a sensual voice, enough to almost make Matt leak on the bed. His hardness is throbbing as it aches to find that sweet relief inside you. He continues to lick at your wetness before he pulls back. 
“How do you feel, sweetheart?” Matt asks. 
“Really good,” you answer, your heart hammering in your chest. 
“Do you really want this?” He asks again, concern laced in his voice, despite the situation at hand. 
“So badly, Matt,” you reply. 
Matt moves up and kisses your lips. You feel your wetness all over his stubbly face as he kisses you deeply. When you closed your eyes, you could see your savior, but when you opened them, it was Matt, your boss. The two were the same. The two were slowly forming into one image. You both pull back at the same time. 
“There’s no going back after this,” you whisper.
“I don’t want to go back if it’s not with you,” Matt says. 
“Don’t lie to me,” your voice cracks, and it surprises you as much as it surprises him. Matt’s brows furrow as his gaze looks down on you.
“Never again,” he says. 
You spread your legs wider in return and the feeling of his hard cock rocking between your pussy lips causes you to moan. Matt balances himself over you, gently sliding his hard cock over your wetness, back and forth. His cock was completely covered in your wetness as it slipped over your pussy. The pressure of his hardness on your clit caused you to feel a tightness in your stomach. 
“You’re so wet,” Matt whispers, “like always. So wet.” He could feel his cock aching for your warmth. 
You kissed Matt. His lips molded to yours as it always did. And suddenly, Matt pushed the tip of his cock into your warm, tight pussy. 
“Mm,” Matt moaned as he tried to push into you more. Your toes curled at the attempt. Matt snaked his arm under you and adjusted you so you lay further down on the bed. Matt leaned down to kiss your neck and it was then you felt the revelation rock your body as his fully pushed his cock inside you, filling you up with every inch. 
“Oh, God,” you moaned in his ear as Matt paused with his cock inside you, letting you adjust to his size. He closed his eyes and began to thrust slowly. He felt your velvety pussy wrap around his cock so tightly, it took a few thrusts to fully push inside. 
“That’s it,” Matt chanted softly, “you feel so good. Dear, God,” he moaned in your ear. You wrapped your legs entirely around Matt as he continued to thrust inside your pussy. You felt so full with his cock inside, and the more he thrust, the more you wanted him deeper. 
“Please,” you begged, “Matthew.”
Matt began to thrust faster and harder into you, knowing he was reaching your sweet spot with every thrust. You just felt…so… good…he kissed your neck to suppress his moans as he continued to thrust harder into you, that sweet relief coming over his cock. The pressure and the need was being melted slowly with your warm and wet and tight pussy. 
“You feel so good,” he says again, because it’s all he can say. “So good.”
“Matt,” you said with urgency, knowing you were about to come, “Come inside me.”
Matt paused at your request but continued to thrust into you. Out of breath, he looks up at you. “I’m so close,” he breathed. 
“Come inside me,” you say again, this time with moan at the end, begging. “Please, Matthew.” 
Matt continues to thrust inside you, every wave of pleasure washing over him as he listens to your moans and hears the sound of how wet you are and his cock slamming into you. He wanted you to come first, and he felt you were on the way as your pussy began to clench his cock harder than before, your toes began to curl and your stomach began to tense and suddenly—you were washing all over his cock as you moaned his name. This wasn’t your savior, this was Matt. 
“Matt!” You screeched as you came and your pussy convulsed in orgasm and Matt was thrusting even harder into you. You could feel the tip of his cock all the way inside you, each time it hit your sweet spot you moaned in his ear and came all over him. 
Matt took a shaky breath as he let those familiar waves wash over him, his throbbing and aching cock soon to feel the relief he’s been wanting and needing this whole time. From your tight wetness around him to you moaning his name, Matt isn’t far behind. With one last hard thrust inside you, he stays inside your pussy as his cum completely fills your warmth and you clench his cock. Matt comes inside you and continues to thrust with each pump of cum he spills in you. One, two, three… his warm cum feels so good inside you, as it spurts in your pussy. 
“Oh, God,” he breathes in your ear, “Oh, oh, my God.”
Breathless, he stays on top of you for a moment, both your bodies slick with sweat. It’s your wetness and his pooled together as his cock stays inside you until he’s strong enough to slowly pull out, and when he does you feel the absence of his size immediately. His cum spills out of you slowly and Matt is on his way to get a warm towel. 
You lay there, breathless, as he cleans you up and your heart returns to its normal pace again. He brings the silk blanket over your naked body and kisses your bare shoulder. 
“Stay here,” you give him one last command. Matt's eyes are soft and he smiles a little. He joins you in his bed, under the silk covers, and brings you close to him. He hopes you’ll be this close for a long time. 
TAGS: @starry-night-20 @sumsytee @queerqueenlynn  @mattmurdocksstarlight @marvelcinematiquniverse @hailey-murdock @yeonalie (please let me know if I missed you!)
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farfromstrange · 6 days
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Do No Harm
CHAPTER ELEVEN: He's Not The Sun
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Summary: Claire puts one and two together, and she confronts Matt when he climbs through her window that night.
Warnings for this chapter: Angst, Claire is a bit "mean" in this one, self-hatred, brief description of injury
Word Count: 3.2k
A/n: At first, I thought about writing Claire's POV, but I didn't like it, so I circled back to Matt. Be patient though, things are purposefully moving very slowly. We all love Matt, but Claire cares for Reader, so she is being overprotective (which we can't blame her for!). Just don't hate me for this, 'kay? (Also, I hope at least some of you get the references I put in this one).
Read Chapter 11: He's Not The Sun here on AO3
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The wooden frame of the window creaks as he slides through the opening. 
Matt has been all over the city tonight. He tried to channel his anger and frustration into his fists and out into the world; he tried to make sense of the chaos that surrounds him everywhere he goes, but he didn’t get very far tonight. 
Bloody and bruised, he crawls home to the one person he knows won’t turn him down.
Something feels off tonight though. It isn’t the lack of hopelessness he has been experiencing ever since he heard your voice for the second time that day. That, as unusual as it is for him, doesn’t feel all that odd. He has embraced it. He likes it. Something else is in the air, and a looming sense of doom threatens to constrict his airway.
You’re a bad idea, a lapse in judgment, but no one consumes him more. When everything burns too brightly for him to breathe, you supply him with fresh oxygen. When he’s spiraling, your voice brings him back from the cliff's edge.
Matt is irrevocably obsessed with you. After that phone call—after you dared to ask him out again—he felt his chest fill with a new sense of hope. You gave him something to look forward to. Something good. Something pure.
The prospect of getting to know someone who seems to be a very guarded person is the most valuable. It means that you consider there to be a certain level of trust between the two of you. It may be dangerous, and acting on the feelings he keeps having may be the worst idea he has ever had, but Matt couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. 
Hell’s Kitchen has seemed a little less like a dead end tonight. His fists are bloody now, his ribs are bruised, and the old stitches on his chest have torn the first hour in, but the world isn’t ending. Usually it does whenever he fails. Not tonight though. He thinks of you tonight, and his chest gets a little lighter with each breath of fresh air he takes to calm himself.
He’s in good spirits when he climbs through Claire’s window, but that is where it ends.
Matt enters, and he instantly can no longer shake the feeling that something is, indeed, very wrong. 
Claire has been pacing. The echo of missed calls and text messages hangs in the air. And when he takes a deep breath in, the lingering scent hits him like a truck.
Sliding the mask off his face, he tilts his head.
“How bad is it?” Claire asks from the doorway to the kitchen. 
The guilt drips from her tongue, but it has nothing to do with him. Anger and worry spike her blood pressure; she can’t fool him, no matter how hard she tries. 
“Someone was here,” he deflects. 
“Can’t be that bad if your voodoo senses still work.”
“Just a bruised rib. I, uh, popped my stitches.” Matt takes a step forward, hissing. “I told you not to tell anyone where you are.”
On any other day, in any other case, he would have lectured her, but his voice lacks power this time.  
Matt wants to protect his identity—needs to—but he can’t even keep Claire safe. She didn’t have to pull him out of that dumpster, but he was the one who told her he would be coming back. He’s burning everything and everyone around him to the ground like an old church at first contact with a tipped-over candle. 
He’s unable to stop. He wants to be a savior; protecting the city, protecting his family, and protecting everyone else. Matt wants to be a hero, as much as he claims otherwise. To him, that is the purpose God gave him. 
He grew up believing he was nothing but a soldier. Stick taught him that. Then, he left, and Matt eventually gave up hope. He was just a child then. A little boy, lost and alone. The mindset Stick forced onto him stayed, and it is a resilient bastard. It’s like a parasite that feeds off of him and refuses to leave. 
He has no idea what to believe in anymore. The one person willing to take him under his wing walked out on him years ago, and he has accepted that it’s all he will ever be good for.
Experiencing all the injustice in the world in every sense but his eyes have given him no other choice but to leave the path of lawfulness and take a different turn—a turn he is now facing the repercussions for at a very dead end. 
You’re getting close to him, and that means you’re inevitably in the line of fire too, just like everyone else Matt holds dear—but he never holds them close enough to allow himself to get hurt. The thought of you getting hurt remains to kill him like a dangerous toxin in his bloodstream. 
Your scent is glued to the walls of the apartment, and Matt is roughly brought back to reality. The love-sick haze he had been in all night dissipates.
Catching himself on the back of the chair she keeps next to the couch, he groans. His side screams in protest. He’s bleeding; he can smell the copper in the air, mixing with Claire’s sweat and her previously shed tears that are still thick in the atmosphere. And perhaps it is your tears, too. 
You.
Olivia Clarke. He truly does believe there is more to it, and that something else is going on, but too many thoughts crowd his mind at once, and he can only think about one. 
He imagines her standing with crossed arms in front of him, her stance wide and her eyes empty, wiped clean by the storm of her emotions. The fire begins to burn a little brighter, swallowing her whole. All he can think about is the fact that you have been here. Neither Matt nor Claire can deny that. 
“Who did you meet?” he asks, his voice low and rough as he takes another unsteady step forward.
“You tell me, Mike,” she counters. “Or should I call you Matt?”
The blood freezes in his veins. “How did you—”
But Claire cuts him off. “I was hoping to be wrong.” She shakes her head, and under her breath, she whispers to herself, “She was so happy. God, why does this always happen?”
The alarms are blaring at full volume in his head. Matt bares his teeth. “Who are you talking about, Claire? Who told you–” he grunts.
She knows. 
“Who told you my name?” he asks. 
“I hate being right sometimes. You wanna know who was here?” Claire pauses. “I have a friend who I happen to work with. You may know her,” she says. “Olivia Clarke? Yeah. She’s the one you’ve been lying to about who you are behind all of—” she points him up and down, “This. A blind, masked vigilante who likes to get himself on Russian ganbangers’ bad side.”
His face falls. Hearing it out loud puts things into perspective. Hearing it out loud makes it real. 
Your scent fills his nose again. Your heartbeat pounds in his ear, a very vivid memory of this afternoon, and your voice echoes.
“Fuck!” he curses. “It’s not—” he was going to say that it isn’t what it looks or sounds like, but that would be the most unbelievable lie. “It’s not like that,” he says. 
“Then what is it like? Tell me, Matt—if that’s even your real name.”
“I… okay, listen. We bumped into each other at the hospital the other night and hit it off. I didn’t know—” His face contorts.
“Didn’t know she had feelings?”
Claire breeches the distance between them. She glides her fingers along his clothed torso, lifting his shirt to see the damage for herself. The skin is slick with his blood, the stitches long gone. 
Her usually so calculated movements are a lot more disoriented tonight. She’s tense, shaking. 
Matt sucks in a sharp breath when she starts working on cleaning the wound with a cotton swab from her first-aid kit. “No,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t know you two knew each other. Let alone that you were friends. If I had, I wouldn’t have…” he trails off. No matter what he says, it will only prove her right that he is, in fact, an asshole. 
“What did you think?” Claire sneers. “You tell me to turn my whole life around while you act like nothing’s wrong during the day, flirting your way through Hell’s Kitchen and landing on someone who works at the same hospital as me? She’s my best friend!”
“We had coffee. That’s all.”
“Don’t lie to me. You gave her your number twice, and you asked her out. She came to me, panicking because you were her first date in years, and I gave her advice like the idiot I am.” She scoffs. “Don’t act like it was just coffee because if it had been, you wouldn’t have said yes to dinner when she asked you.”
Claire pours the disinfectant directly onto the cut, and he howls in the back of his throat. “Sorry,” she says, but it lacks sincerity. “I couldn’t even answer her texts because I feel like I’m complicit in lying, even though I never signed up for this.”
Matt adjusts in his seat. The medicinal alcohol burns through his bloodstream. 
She sticks three butterfly bandages over the cut, one after the other. “To think I told her you were a good guy because I was hoping someone had finally come around for her who wouldn’t hurt her.”
“I would never hurt her,” he answers without missing a beat.
“Then why did she tell me about how she met this handsome lawyer, but not that he runs around in spandex at night, throwing fists at bad guys?”
“Because…I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t.” Taking a deep breath, his eyes stop darting around. He wraps his hand around her wrist, stopping her desperate attempt to patch him up. 
Right now, Claire hates him. She’s furious with him and worried about you, and she doesn’t quite know where to with herself, but she also can’t let it be. Matt’s hurt; after saving his life, she feels responsible for making sure he’s okay. Her movements are muscle memory, but he can’t focus, not like this. 
“You see the situation you’re in, Claire.” Her pulse quickens at the mention of her name. “If I tell her,” he explains, “she’ll be in danger, and I can’t… She’s too good for that. And so are you, but you chose to pull me out of that dumpster.”
“Don’t act like it’s my fault for not wanting to let you bleed out,” she claps back. 
He tightens his grip, urging her not to slip away. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh, I know what you meant. And I agree, Liv’s too good for you.”
The second she has finished bandaging his wound, she breaks free from his grasp and steps away. Being close to him seems to hurt her. He can hear it in the way she breathes, brushing her hair away from her sweaty forehead. Her temples must be pounding. 
Matt lowers his shirt again, sighing. “She has something about her. The way she talks, the way she carries herself, I just… she draws me in. And she’s good to me.”
A million reasons why he can’t stay away from you, but he can’t voice any of them in the way he wants to. The words just won’t come.
Claire wipes her hands on a towel nearby. “She doesn’t exist to make you feel better,” she says. “She doesn’t exist to make anyone feel better. She thinks she does, but she isn’t. I thought you, out of all people, would understand that.”
No one exists for the sake of another person.
“I know she’s had a bad childhood,” he says.
“It’s not just about her bad childhood. It’s everything. She deserves better.”
“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I’m aware that I’m bad for her? That everything I do has a tendency to backfire on the people I care about?”
She avoids looking at his face entirely. “I want to believe you, but I can’t,” she says.
“Claire—”
She shakes her head. “You need to cancel that dinner.”
The words take a very long moment to register. “You want me to break her heart?” he asks.
Matt imagines that—hurting you, breaking your heart, and never seeing you again—and it crushes him. Over his dead body, that is what he thought when you answered the phone earlier that evening. Now, Claire is begging him to kill himself so that you can be free of him. She finally sees him through the same mirror he views himself through, and it is terrifyingly isolating.
The floorboards creak under the weight of her steps as she begins to pace. “I don’t know,” she admits. “Maybe? Yes? All I know is that you can’t see her again.”
The wave that comes at him threatens to pull him under. She met the Devil first, but he was so broken then that a glimpse of Matt was already peeking through. He wants to disappear.
Claire’s view of the world has always been sober, but now that he is in the spotlight of it all, he wishes he would have never come to her again. He was alone, and she was there, but it should not have happened.
Subconsciously, he matches her labored breathing. “I get you, Mi—Matt,” she murmurs. “I do. And I keep telling myself it’s twisted, but I can’t help it. You’re hurt, and I know how to take care of that. God knows I shouldn’t have got involved with you. I don’t regret it. I’m not trying to make you feel worse than you already do, but Liv’s safety is something I can’t risk. I won’t. Endless devotion is the only way she knows how to love. And if you go out with her—if you make her fall for you—she will get herself killed.”
You. Dead. The combination tastes sour. No amount of bleach could remove the blurry imagination of you, dying because of him. His chest tingles, a thousand lightning bolts at once. If he goes along with it, he fears her words might become real. But who’s to say they won’t either way? The fear settles into his bones like a chronic ache.
Matt gets up. His knees buckle, but he tries to stand strong. The question is, who is he trying to fool? Claire knows better, and he can’t even believe himself anymore. It’s pointless. 
“I know you care about her, but after the Russians are taken care of—” he begins.
Claire raises her hand. The wind brushes across his cheek, stopping him in his tracks. “Doesn’t matter,” she says. “You won’t stop.”
“I…” he sighs. “You know I can’t. Not when I have to listen to the law fail every damn night. This city needs me in that mask.”
“I’m not telling you to stop. I know you’ve made up your mind, and that’s your choice, but Liv can’t be dragged into this. If it’s not the Russians, it will be something or someone else trying to get a piece of you, and they will drag those close to you down with you.” Claire crosses her arms again. “We both know I’m right,” she says. 
“You’re asking me to break her heart. That’s not fair,” the sentence hangs in the air, a helpless breath on his lips as he tries to reach for a way out of this hell. 
Her fingers dig into her biceps. “Can you promise that she won’t get hurt?”
He opens his mouth. Not a single sound escapes him. And Matt realizes that if he wants to answer that question, he has to lie. The truth will prove her right. It proves him right.  
She nods. His hesitation speaks volumes. “If you let her down easy now, you won’t do any irreparable damage. You both can move on.”
But he doesn’t want to move on. Again, nothing but a strangled grunt in the back of his throat slips past his lips. Matt loathes himself more than anything. Death seems kinder than whatever this is supposed to be.
If he had chosen to go home and stitch himself up tonight, maybe he could have still been pretending by now, and he wouldn’t be on the verge of losing you.
She sniffs. She isn’t crying, but her nose is still running from the presence of the very persistent cat, who has been watching them ever since Matt climbed into the window. 
“She’s like family to me,” Claire tells him as calmly as she possibly can. “I can’t let you do this to her, not after I’ve got a taste of what it’s like.”
If you were there with them, you would tell her to mind her own business. Knowing you, you wouldn’t allow her or anyone to control you. You are in charge of your own destiny, but as she said, you would go into it blindly and sacrifice yourself if he truly means that much to you, and if that were to ever happen, he might lose you. Claire might lose you. You might die, and that is a thought that Matt can’t even stand to form, but he has no choice as the voices come crashing back in. 
rough his shirt to touch his wound. It’s not a gentle caress, not at all.
“Promise me she’ll be okay?” he asks. 
Claire nods. “Of course, she will. You’re not the center of her universe,” and although she probably meant it to sound snarky, a certain softness follows through the sound of her voice.
Maybe in another life, he could be. In another life—another universe—he could be your sun, or perhaps the moon that shines at midnight as rain falls. Just not in this one.
He slips through the window back into a reality that is much different from whatever fantasy he could possibly conjure up to soothe the hot ache that spreads through his heart, and when his feet hit the wet ground, he knows he has a decision to make. 
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Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia @writtenbyred @echo-ethe @kezibear @peterbarnes
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stcverogers · 2 years
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AUGUST FIC RECS 1!
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what i’ve been reading and obsessing with over the first half of august
this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them.
F: fluff A: angst S: smut
𖥻 - series
masterlist
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STEVE ROGERS
F: before you go by @world-of-aus 𖥻 steve is a trucker who is stuck in a snowstorm and has to seek refuge in a small inn. one week in the quaint town and he's found himself falling in love with the inn's owner.
F + A: the night we met by @avengerofyourheart 𖥻 one night, that was all you got with steve. years later, he returns and realise that much has changed since.
F: airport scenes always make me cry by @demonpoxballad you and steve watch love, actually
F + A: mirrors by @bonky-n-steeb 𖥻 you're the new PA for steve rogers and as much as he wishes to make a move on you, his ex wife is holding him back.
F + A: no questions asked by @pellucid-constellations steve does what he does out of love
F + A: love and medicine by @just-dreaming-marvel 𖥻 what happens when you start your first day as an intern in your local hospital, only to find out that your one night stand from last night is your new superior.
F: losing composure by @marvelettesassemblenow you lose a bet to bucky and have to dress up as an USO girl
F + A: brooklyn, thursday night by @intrepidacious when the blip happens, steve can't find a single thing to be thankful for on thanksgiving
F: birthday escape by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend the avengers have planned a surprise party for steve and he is determined to not attend it
F + A: by the strength of his heart by @irisofeden hercules rewritten with steve rogers
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SEBASTIAN STAN + CHARACTERS
F + A: the last name by @demonpoxballad 𖥻 your last name is all bucky has to remember you by. his memories come back in hitches and he is determined to find you again.
F: new teacher on the block by @galaxy-siren 𖥻 the teachers in midtown high have a wager on whether the english and physics teacher will admit their mutual feelings for each other.
F + A: the two of us by @bucky-bucket-barnes 𖥻 you and bucky investigate the strange occurences of westview. however, you find yourselves getting sucked into the hex.
F + A: no such thing by @sanguineterrain 𖥻 bucky barnes is the absolute bane of your existance. after you interview him for your school's newspaper, he seems to show up everywhere you go.
F: first look by @atlasbarnes bucky never believed in love at first sight till he saw you
F + A: cold by @wvintersoldat you absolutely cannot stand bucky barnes. never have, never will.
F + A: wrong choice, right places by @mvtthewmurdvck 𖥻 falling in love with you was not a part of bucky's job description
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FRANK 'THE PUNISHER' CASTLE
F: easy early mornings by @fanboygarcia waking up to frank next to you is the best feeling in the world
S: the game by @chrisevansredbelt two can play that game
S: cute by @jaceyneedsabetterusername to frank, you have always been just a next door neighbour. when you become neighbours again years later, you've become the girl next door
S: kiss it better by @lordabovehelpme frank castle is a gentle lover
S: sit around and miss you by @ohcaptains you would stay at home looking pretty for frank any day
S: west coast by @mrsswaino frank proves just how much he loves you
S: honey by @babybugwrites just. like. honey.
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MATTHEW 'DAREDEVIL' MURDOCK
F: large black coffee by @daring-the-devil 𖥻 you own a small cafe in hell's kitchen
F + A: bruises by @goldustwomun no matter how battered and bruised, you will always be there for matt
F: the seven stages of matt murdock’s jealousy by @alrighty-matty matt murdock was not a jealous person. absolutely not.
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PIETRO 'QUICKSILVER' MAXIMOFF
F: lumea mea by @tommiruewrites you know pietro loves you, even if you may not be able to understand what he's saying
A: the perfect distraction by @ficnacs you are sucked into wanda's hex
F + A: at the end of the day by @acciopietro pietro reminds you that at the end of the day, you should always put yourself first
F: hidden treasures by @haunteddelusiontale pietro was supposed to be dead, right?
F + A: truly, madly, deeply by @mendesxruel no matter how severe of an argument, pietro still manages to show you how much he loves you
F: seven evil exes by @inpraizeof you recount all seven of your exes to the black widow
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ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD
F: welcome home by @anna-phora bob is utterly and fully in love with you
F: things one, two, three, and four by @callsignbob there are four things bob looks forward to everyday
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JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN
F + A: see you soon by @sunnysidevans you see hangman for the first time in years
F + A: getting even by @lass-that-is-gone jake seresin makes your job ten times more difficult than it should be
S: basic training by @welld0nebaku jake seresin is a sharp shooter
A + S: small doses by @purelyfiction stationed at top gun, you encounter a ghost of your past
A + S: fucked up by @twinklelilstarkey seresin needs to be put in his place
S: make me a... by @sunderlust hangman with a breeding kink
F + A: all bets are off by @rolycolysficrecs guys like jake don't like girls like you
S: competition by @enchanting-eloquence everything is a competition between hangman and rooster
F: caught by @heytheredelilah333 what the hell is jake seresin doing in your bath
F: do you love me by @wishfulwithwine hangman was full of surprises that night
F + A: we're only human by @obsessedasusual where you give jake the reminder that he is only human
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MICKEY 'FANBOY' GARCIA + JOAQUÍN TORRES
F: since when? by @callsign-squints since when did fanboy have a wife
F: meeting the team by @peterman-spideyparker this was not how you intended to meet sam and bucky
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hamartia-grander · 6 months
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When your party's rogue rolls a 32 on her stealth check and completely uncovers another player's tragic backstory three chapters too early and now you've gotta improvise for the next two hours
Loosely based off of this screenshot from the Mighty Nein campaign (Matt is the DM and Laura is a player):
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sunfairyy · 2 months
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Does anyone remember or know of the post that consisted of screenshots from a PowerPoint where they discussed the racism and orientalism in daredevil in regards to Elektra and Claire???? Also spoke about how they were always compared to Karen and put in a love triangle but Karen wouldn’t be seen as someone actively competing for Matt.
I’m trying to find it but I’m unsuccessful and I really want to go through it again 😭😭 if you know, please let me know
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anyway matt x reader coming in (hopefully) a few hours
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takoscribit · 11 months
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@domaystic: #6 under the same umbrella Fandom: Daredevil, Matt Murdock / Claire Temple
Claire picked up her pace as more raindrops fell.
She wasn’t far from home but, if those dark clouds could talk, she knew she’d hear them joke about whom, among all the people out in the street without an umbrella, like her, would be the first to start running for their life.
And because she didn’t want to give the weather such pleasure, she did not.
Until a white cane under an umbrella crossed her view.
Maybe…
She ran, but just a bit.
“Were you in the neighborhood?”
“Just met a client.”
“Will it pour?”
“Umm, let’s take our time.”
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