Series of X-Reader One-shots

That Damned Devil || Matt Murdock

"You've seen this, right?"

There's a flick of heavy paper mere inches away from Matt's face, drawing him to move his head upwards to acknowledge your presence from where you stand in front of his desk. A smirk pulls at the edge of his lips.

"You know I can't see that," while he might not be able to see the paper's contents, he doesn't need sight to know that you're rolling your eyes.

"Heard, seen- whatever! Karen reads the newspaper aloud every morning, does she not? So you at least know what it says," you lift yourself to sit on the edge of the desk, the paper crinkling in your hands as you give it nearly all your attention.

Matt only finds the need to hum while leaning back in his chair with one leg crossed over the other and his hands folded lazily on his lap. Of course he knows what the paper says and he also knows what you're about to say about it, but frankly, he doesn't care to hear it. Nevertheless, if he dismisses you now, you'll leave in a pout and he'd rather bite on his own sour annoyance than loose even a second of time around you.

As predicated, it doesn't take long before you begin gushing," isn't it wonderful to have our own personal superhero here in Hell's Kitchen-?"

"-I wouldn't say he's a superhero."

"He could be, though. I mean, he has to have some sort of power to take out the number of badies that he does."

"That or he's just plain strong."

"You think so?" You blink, studying the blurry picture printed on the front of the newspaper. The photographer had only just managed to capture Daredevil as he disappeared off some building above a recent crime scene," I suppose he does look like he could have a lot of muscle under that suit."

Matt only presses his lips together in a thin line.

"Well, either way, he's a hero. He managed to save that little girl before the police could even finish the missing person's report! If it weren't for him, who knows what would've happened to that poor thing. I bet she's more than grateful. I sure would be. If anything ever happens to me, I hope Daredevil will come save me; I know I'd be safe then."

"Let's hope it never comes to that," there's a skip to your heartbeat, one that causes him to curse internally at the realization that his words packed more venom than intended. He can't help it. Not only do your praises leave a bitter taste in his mouth, but so does your body's reaction.

Every time you discuss Daredevil, your heartbeat increases and heat races to your cheeks as you tend to fidget with whatever you can. In this case, you keep curling the corners of the newspaper. It feels Matt's stomach with envy, which is utterly ridiculous because he's Daredevil. They're one in the same so if anything he should be happy to have you obsess over his alter ego instead of someone else. Maybe that's the problem; you don't know it's Matt. To you, you are obsessing over someone else, completely unaware that the person of your interest is sitting within arms length.

Before you can acknowledge the clear irritation mixed in his voice, Matt sits up quickly and basically smacks his hand against the braille papers lining his desk," has Foggy come back yet? I need to talk to him about this case."

Of course he knows Foggy isn't back from his coffee run, but it's a change in subject; a distraction.

"No, you know he likes to flirt with that barista," you answer, striking temporary hope in Matt before it's immediately demolished by your next words," do you think Daredevil is okay after last night?"

He tries not to sigh," why wouldn't he be?"

"Well according to witness testimonies, he seemed pretty battered. He did take on an entire gang of traffickers after all," Matt can feel your eyes burning into him, causing him to bow his head more while pretending to read the paper under his touch. He prays his hair and the shadows of the room are doing enough to cover that nasty cut above his left eyebrow and the deep bruise along his cheekbone. You've already asked him about them this morning, no need for you to bring them up again; not now.