Matt Murdock x reader imagines & one shots

Cherries & Toasted Cinnamon ~ Matthew Murdock

In this chapter, the reader isn't really one for much conversation, and is consequently rather shy, but her unspoken intelligence enchants Matthew. Very soft :)

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x

SECOND PERSON:

Friday mornings were always quiet at Nelson & Murdock, the pale light of 8am bathing the little office. You had worked there for about a month, never saying much more than was necessary, but always polite. They found you very quiet, but no malice could be detected in your ways, it appeared you just weren't one to be close with many people. However, as the month progressed, you always brought such an air of gentle kindness with you, it appeared more as if you wanted to be their friend, but didn't quite know how to go about it. There was a silent sadness in your ways, like you were holding a secret yet painful past in your wandering eyes.

You worked as an assistant, mainly for Matthew, although it wasn't technically your title to work solely for him, it just sort of happened, as Karen had ended up working more for Foggy, and it just sort of developed from habit within the office. They didn't know much about you, just that you always smelled of cherries and toasted cinnamon, and always brought them morning coffee with a gentle smile. The three decided that they should engage you more in conversation, and did so that Friday morning.

"Okay Matt, thoughts on this." Foggy slapped the news paper dramatically on the desk.

He waited expectantly for Matts reply, who managed out through a laugh, "Foggy, I- I cant read it."

You let out a soft laugh to yourself as you were setting coffees down on the desks, and there was a moment of shock in the room that was masked almost immediately. Matts lips held a small smile, as if proud he were the one to cause it.

"It's that guy, the one in the black mask. Daredevil, they're calling him now."

Matt shifted and smiled, "What, you're asking my opinion on him?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I think he's pretty brave, all things considered. Bit dark and moody with the whole mask thing, and he breaks the law a lot, but he's saved my life and countless others." Karen interjected, beaming. And then, out of the blue, she smiled softly and said,

"What do you think, Y/N?"

You looked up almost hopefully from the papers in your hands and said quietly, gesturing lightly as yourself,
"Me?"

"Yes you, silly." Foggy added in a happy tone, eager to aid Karen in their attempts to make you feel more comfortable around them. Foggy had always enjoyed the act of making other people feel wanted and listened to, it was just another part of his charming, sunshine of an attitude.

"I-I-I guess I'd be lying if I said that  if I could fight like that, I wouldn't go out and do what he does." You offered cautiously, looking down at your hands. Matt tilted his head at your sweet voice, the one he'd barely heard since you began working there.

"How so?" Foggy added, wanted to somehow telepathically tell you that you didn't need to be shy, they enjoyed listening to you.

"Well, although what the law can do is incredible, on the occasion that there isn't time call the police and a split second decision has to be made there isn't time to wait for someone else to do something, and I think he knows that. He's a hero, even more so that he accepts that not everyone sees him as one, because that shows that he's not doing it for the public gratification of being recognised as saviour of sorts, he's doing it because someone's hurting and he can help. I mean, I assume it isn't as simple as that, but if-if we're rounding down." You bit your lip, realising you'd spoken way more than usual, mind whirling at the thought that they must think you're so boring, or worse, a creepy fan of the vigilante, given that your answer seemed so thought out. Matt could hear your heart racing with nerves within your chest, and wished he could thank you.

"Woah, to be honest I've never thought of it that way. Why aren't you a lawyer?" Foggy laughed, and relief clouded your features. He stand and puts an arm around your shoulder,
"To be honest, until now, I hadn't even noticed you were British!"

The change of tone in the room made you feel almost as though you finally belonged somewhere, but willed yourself not to jump to conclusions. You glanced over at Matt, who was smiling in a sort of daze, as if reminiscing on something, little did you know it was the tone of your voice. It was soft, not too loud or grating to his senses. Hell's Kitchen sometimes held so many separate sounds that together, they were a horrific symphony that he couldn't escape, but your voice somehow managed to float above the noise, each rough edge and smooth vowel deconstructing the grating wails of sirens and car horns.

Later that day, as everyone departed to a small run down café that offered brilliantly low prices, Matt held his bent arm towards you, smiling, and waiting for you to tentatively curl your hand around it. As you led him slowly towards the door, a soft smile graced your features, alongside your rose dusted cheeks. Matt sighed deeply, his senses enchanted by the warm presence of cherry and toasted cinnamon.