fear of god [Matt Murdock x F!Reader]

Bright Light.

"Hey, Karen," you grin, setting your laptop down on your desk. You're a little on edge - when you walked down the hall, everyone in the office was sort of watching you. It had been a long time since you've been at work. Well, it's been two weeks, which isn't long in theory. But when you work at the Bulletin, you're up to date with every single thing going on in the world around you. So for everyone watching you, it must feel like you've missed a thousand things in those two weeks.

Karen pulls her frown from her notebook, looking up at you. "Y/N," her mouth is agape before it settles into a smile, "I didn't think I'd see you in the office today!"

"Yeah, well," you shrug shyly, sitting at your desk opposite hers, "Felt like I should try doing my job again. My two week breaks up." You give her a pout as if you actually enjoyed being away from work. In reality, it felt like you never left.

"Good," she smiles, giving you a kind nod, "It's good to see you."

"Yeah, you too!" You cheerfully agree, "You're looking good today, I like your earrings."

"Oh!" She scrunches her nose, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, "Yeah. Thanks." When she looks down at her notebook, a black pen in her slender fingers, you notice the blush that's crept up into her cheeks.

"Where'd you get them from?"

She looks up again, her blue eyes flicking around as if trying to remember, "Just some shop, thought they looked pretty."

"Right," you hum gently, "So, they're not from an... admirer of some sorts?"

Karen lets out an airy chuckle, shaking her head shyly, "No, definitely not."

"Alright, had to ask!" You just give her a knowing look, turning your laptop on. There's a silence that settles in your shared office. It doesn't feel like it normally does. And when you look up, you meet her curious eyes. "You're staring."

"Sorry!" She lets out an awkward laugh, "I just... Before you left, when you tried to pitch that piece, I should-"

"It's fine," you shake your head at her, seriously, "seriously."

"No, I..." she sucks in a deep breath, pausing to gather her words. You already know what she's going to say. When you pitched your story, no one had backed you up. She knew how important it was to you, you'd talked to her countless times since she started working at the Bulletin. It was hard not to be friends with someone as lovely as Karen - especially since she took the desk opposite to yours in Ben's old office. "I should've backed you up, I-"

"Look," you shrug it off, honestly, "you were kinda still new here. And you didn't really know me. And Ellison can be kind of... an acquired taste," you give her a small shrug.

"Yeah, he can be."

"It's okay," you brush it off, "in any case, he might've been right about it. I think I'm actually getting somewhere with it now."

"I knew you'd never really take a break," she smirks knowingly, "tell me about it."

"Nah, you'll have to read about it like everyone else," you joke back, giving her a comical shrug.

"Oh, come on," Karen sighs, her face falling gently, "you can't give me anything?"

Seeing her expectant expression, you cave, "Okay, fine. I think there's a link between Richard Deacon and his father. Like they're in on the murders together - something like that. But I think it might go deeper than just two people, we don't know yet."

"We?"

You pause. Shit. You haven't told anyone about Matt's incredible help. You know the history between them, the work and some of the relationship stuff - only that it didn't work out for whatever reason, and that in the last few months, they've gone their separate ways. You're not sure they even talk anymore.

"Yeah."

"Who's 'we'?" Her voice is airy, with a hint of curiosity.

You open up google, prepared to do some digging. You avoid Karen's mischievous gaze. "Someone's helping me with the case."

"An admirer of some sorts?" She hums, resting her head in her hands as she looks at you.

"No, no," you shake your head, freeing your mind from the idea, "No."

"Who is it? A guy? A girl?" She wonders. Meeting her eyes for a second, your expression is plain and serious.

"It's confidential."

"Oh, come on!" Karen exclaims, letting out a giggle, "You don't have to be such a closed book."

"Okay, fine," sucking in a deep breath, you answer, "it's Matthew Murdock."

There's a silence, short but heavy. She sits up straighter, face falling slightly before a knowing look washes over her face. "Oh, he's... Well, he's really excellent at what he does. I'm glad he's by your side in this, Y/N."

Karen doesn't look upset or betrayed, she looks rather content. But there's something in her expression she tries to hide away, something close to pride but closer to understanding.

"Yeah," you nod, taking her words in, "Thanks, Karen."

She gives you a smile before she's typing away at her computer too, "Of course."

Someone stands in the doorway, "I heard whispers around the office about a ghost. Good to see it's you they were talking about, Y/N."

"Morning," you smile at Mitchell, watching as he crosses his arm comfortably. There's a paper in his hand, and he places it on your desk.

"Good to have you back," he admits sweetly, "here's today's itinerary."

"Itinerary?" You tilt your head at the content outline, "This is-" you look over it, "You're giving me pieces to write now?"

A look crosses Karen's face, "What happened to us pitching our own?"

He looks at Karen, wordlessly. Then he gives you a curt nod, something tells you not to test your limits. "Until you're back on your feet, this is how we do things. I don't want you running into fires when you were just pulled out of one."

"I thought the two week break was me getting back on my feet," you respond, cringing when you see some of the articles, "We're really printing about this stuff?"

"Absolutely," he feigns enthusiasm, "The first one needs to be done by the end of tomorrow. Can you handle it?"

"Uh, yeah, I think I can," you let out a sigh, looking up to meet his expressionless face, "I mean, of course. Yep. Good to be back. Thank you."

He just nods, backing up and leaving your office. Karen rises to her feet, flipping the paper to read it. Her lips press into a tight line, holding back a giggle.

"Don't." You narrow your eyes at her, also trying not to laugh.

Karen raises her hands in surrender, making her way back to her seat without another word.