summary: after years, you finally find one of the spots where the people who destroyed your life have been hiding. and, despite God’s wishes, you intend to make them pay for what they did to you. however, your plan goes off the rails when you need to save The Devil’s life.
warnings: no use of y/n. even with the reader being referred to by they/them, people will also refer to them as a woman because of the period, so sorry. description of violence, blood, injuries, and bruises. mention to death. use of guns. misogyny. explosion and mention of loud sounds. writing about chemistry even if i know zero about chemistry (so sorry, chemists). two idiots in love, picking on each other.
prologue: God must hate the damned ones (1,96K)
tonight was supposed to be another night where you’d search for revenge against the ones that destroyed your life. however, things drastically when you find the infamous and mysterious vigilante close to death.
chapter one: What do we know about The Doctor? (5K)
matt had heard about the doctor and their skills. about what they could do once face to face with their nemesis. so, when the vigilante wakes up and senses the presence of his savior by his side, he tries to understand the face behind the plague doctor’s mask.
chapter two: Nothing is as simple as a deal with the devil (3,3K)
you and the devil of hell’s kitchen need to have a talk if both of you wish to take down the serpents. even if you guys want to do it in different ways (and that's a good reason for this conversation). and what a better place to discuss “not vigilante and vigilante’s business” than at josie’s?
chapter three: The one who doubts is like a wave of the sea (6,3K)
you expose to matt all the information you have about the well-known baron zemo. and, accidentally, how this part of your life still affects you in many ways. including your duty.
a request with Matt x Reader!officer maybe a detective like Brett Mahoney, and she's also one of the few honest ones in the department and has conflicting opinions about Daredevil, as she kind of disagrees with vigilantism but deepdown recognizes he's making a difference to the city. And has no idea that the Devil of Hell's Kitchen she's been investigating so much is her lawyer boyfriend? And of course, Matt afraid as hell to tell her.
A Brush with the Law
Pairing: Matt Murdock/GN!Cop!Reader
Word Count: 8.1k
Summary: Matthew Murdock is the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, an identity he's kept secret from everyone.
On occasion, he works with you, a detective who probably shouldn't be taking information from the masked vigilante they're supposed to find the identity of.
Matt's balancing act of being with you while keeping his identity a secret can only last so long.
Notes: Ngl I kind of "messed up" in my opinion on this one. I started writing this fic from Matt's POV without thinking and eventually realized I wouldn't be able to fully incorporate Reader's POV properly if I put them both in one. As a result, there isn't a lot of Reader's thoughts, feelings, and inner dialogue here, BUT I have decided that I'm also going to write this one from Reader's POV as well. It'll be a couple of weeks until it's out and I don't know if it'll be as long as this one, but be on the lookout for it!
Read on AO3 || Masterlist
Matt couldn’t stay away. He tried; he really did. At first, coming to you with information about certain criminal activity was merely business. He recognized a goodness in you that few people in your department had, what with most of them being either in Fisk’s pocket or some other crime boss's.
He listened to your heartbeat, followed your actions as a police officer. He knew you were a good person. So, he kept coming to you, giving you information when he could, asking for it if he thought you were in a generous mood.
“You know, I’ve been put in charge of finding out who you are,” you said one particularly dreary night, rain soaking your clothes and making them stick to your skin.
“And how’s that going for you?” Matt asked with a smirk.
“Your clothes are soaked,” you said, apparently changing the topic. “I have a spare outfit in the back of my car if you need to change.” He could sense your eyes roam over his body, the tight black shirt and pants not leaving much to the imagination.
“Trying to get me to take off my mask?”
“Well, the rest of you wouldn’t be bad to look at either,” you said with a shrug, a smirk of your own gracing your face.
“Careful,” Matt said, the word coming out as a low rumble. He tells himself he hadn’t meant it as an invitation.
“You be careful.” Your tone changed from playful and flirty to serious, but Matt didn’t miss the heat spreading throughout your body. “I haven’t found anything about you yet, but if I do, I'll have to come for you.”
“Then why help me? Why let me help you?”
You looked away from him, glancing around at your surroundings, trying to spy any shadows that shouldn’t be there. Trying to decide if you should answer.
“I can’t say I exactly agree with what you do, but sometimes…” you trailed off, your hands clenched into fists. “I’ve been a cop long enough to know that there are some things I can’t do, even when I know I’m right. There are lines I can’t cross. There are loopholes the bastards I bring in weasel themselves through,” you said through gritted teeth. “Sometimes the law isn’t always enough.” You said the last part quietly like you didn’t want to admit it, like you're finally admitting to yourself that it was true.
Matt nodded. He knew exactly what you were going through. When he looked back, he’d point to that night as the one where everything changed for him.
It was a bad idea, but from then on, between the look you gave him and your conflict with the law versus justice, Matt was well and truly hooked.
A few days later, when he and Foggy had to go to the police station to meet with a new client, Matt told himself he wouldn't look for you. He just got lucky that you happened to be the detective interviewing his client.
“You should know better than to interrogate someone without their lawyer present, detective,” Matt said as he walked into the room. You and he had never met like this before, so he couldn’t help but test the waters as he felt for the chair Foggy guided him to. He wanted to see how you felt about lawyers. Professionally speaking, of course.
“I’ll have you know we were just talking about the new episode of a show that was on last night. Nothing to worry about, Mr…” you said, fishing for his name.
Matt was pleasantly surprised to hear your heartbeat remain steady. You hadn't lied. Just another thing he appreciated about you, not trying to pressure his client into saying something incriminating to use against him.
“Matthew Murdock,” Foggy answered, and Matt realized he was so caught up in you that he forgot you were asking for his name. “And I’m Franklin Nelson, Detective…”
You gave your name and even shook Foggy’s hand when he held it out to you.
Throughout the rest of the interview, you were nothing but respectful, unlike some of the other detectives he’s dealt with. He could tell you didn’t think his client was guilty just because it was the most convenient answer. Matt already had an idea about how you operated as a detective, knew you were always determined to get to the truth. He wouldn’t have picked you otherwise. But this, interacting with you not as the Man in the Mask but as Matt Murdock, felt different. He couldn't explain it, but he wanted to be around you, get to know you. Matt saw himself in you and he wanted more.
After the interview, Foggy guided their client out of the station. Matt stayed behind for a moment longer.
“There a problem, Mr. Murdock?” you asked when you noticed him still standing in the middle of the station.
“The opposite of one, actually,” Matt said, turning to you.
“Oh?”
“I’m just…surprised at how well that went.”
You gave a small smile. Matt knew it was genuine. Even though he couldn’t technically see it, he could sense the muscles in your face moving, heard it in the tone of your voice when you spoke.
“Not all of us are assholes. Besides, I know an innocent man when I see one.”
“Then I hope you know the same can be said about me—and Foggy,” Matt quickly tacked on at the end.
“About not being assholes or knowing who’s innocent?” you teased.
“Both.” Matt smiled at you and held out his hand, telling himself he was being friendly, professional, and not because he wanted to touch your hand. “It was nice meeting you, detective.”
“Nice meeting you, too, Mr. Murdock,” you said, voice soft as you shook his hand.
Afterward, when he and Foggy returned to their office, Matt flexed his hand, replaying the sensation of your skin brushing against his. He thought about what it would sound like if you had said Matt instead.
.
.
.
A couple of weeks later, after the business with his client was settled and there were no worries about an arrest, Matt’s thoughts drifted back to you. He hadn’t seen you since, either as Matt the lawyer or the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. He hadn’t had any clients whose cases you were on and he’s yet to have any useful information to give you.
Perhaps, then, it was fate that you were at Josie’s when he, Foggy, and Karen walked in. You were facing the bar, waiting for your drinks. Foggy hadn’t noticed you with your back to the door, but Matt recognized the sound of your voice, the feel of your presence.
He volunteered to get everyone’s drinks and then took the opportunity to stand right next to you while he waited for Josie to finish with another customer. The bar was packed. Matt brushing your shoulder with his was unavoidable. Definitely not an excuse to touch you in any way he could.
“Murdock?” you asked when you noticed him.
“Is that you, detective?” Matt, of course, had to pretend he didn’t know that he happened to be beside you.
“Might want to keep your voice down,” you whispered, leaning toward him, your face so close to his he felt your breath brushing across his cheek, making him shiver. “I don’t think some of these folks would appreciate a cop crashing their bar.”
Matt tilted his head toward you and said your name, barely above a whisper even though the sounds of the bar threatened to drown it out. But you smiled, letting him know you heard. When your heart rate spiked, a thrill went through him. The two of you were so close. He didn’t move away and neither did you.
“Mind if I ask why you’re here, then?” Matt was basking in your presence, enjoying the feeling of you being so close, speaking only to him.
“Friend’s birthday,” you answered, unconsciously jerking your thumb in the direction of a group crowded around a table, forgetting for a moment who you were speaking to. “You?”
“Regular hangout.” Matt hardly noticed when Josie set his usual order in front of him.
“Good to know.” Matt smiled. It grew wider when he felt your fingers graze his wrist resting on the bar. Then someone called your name. “I have to get back,” you said regretfully after giving your friend a wave. “I‘ll see you around, Matt.”
It was his turn for his heart to skip a beat. The sound of his name on your lips was even better than he imagined.
.
.
.
Matt was out as the Devil when he found you waiting for him in the usual spot for your meetups. You were leaning against your car, looking everywhere but up. He observed you for a moment, taking you in and ensuring nothing was wrong.
Satisfied, he slowly, quietly, made his way down to you. He stepped out of the shadows when you turned your head in the opposite direction.
“Detective,” he greeted. Your head snapped toward him while one hand started reaching for the gun at your side. You quickly realized who he was, though, and relaxed.
“I was just about to give up,” you said, pushing off your car and taking a step closer.
Lie.
“No, you weren’t,” Matt said confidently, a barely contained smirk gracing his lips.
You only rolled your eyes. Then you went silent for a moment, some thought crossing your mind. You reached out, trying to quickly jab Matt in the stomach with a finger. He easily brushed your arms aside.
“And here I thought we were friends,” Matt lamented.
“A notion I reconsider every day.”
Lie.
“What’ve you got for me, detective?” Matt asked softly. Fondly.
The next time Matt spoke with you, it was at Josie’s. Upon noticing you, Matt was convinced you were waiting for him.
“Please tell me you didn’t do anything to piss off a cop more than usual, Matt,” Foggy said as their group made their way to the table closest to the pool table.
“What? Why are you saying that?” Karen asked.
“Because that detective from a couple weeks ago is at the bar, staring right at him.” Karen started to subtly look around the bar, spying you instantly. You weren’t trying to hide the fact you were staring.
“I suppose that means I should go over there then,” Matt said, taking off his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves.
“Should one of us go with you?” Karen asked.
“I’m a lawyer. I know my rights.” Cane in hand, he was about to start walking toward the bar, eager to speak with you, before he remembered Foggy and Karen didn’t know about his abilities. “Which way?” he asked, and Foggy grabbed him by the shoulders to point him in the right direction.
“Good luck, buddy,” Foggy said, giving a solid slap to Matt’s shoulder.
Matt said your name when he reached your seat. He noticed you had a drink in front of you, though it was barely touched, the condensation forming a puddle on the bar.
Matt knocked his cane against the empty stool next to you before pulling it out and sitting down. He folded up his cane and set it on the bar.
“What brings you here?”
“I wanted to see you,” you said, finally picking up your drink and taking a sip.
Matt smiled, a pleasant flush rising to his cheeks. “How long have you been sitting here, waiting for me to walk through the door?”
“Not long.”
“And yesterday?” Matt asked, taking a shot in the dark.
You sputtered but quickly recovered. “Doesn’t count because you didn’t show up.”
“You could’ve come to my office if you needed me. Or called.” Matt slid his hand over to brush the tips of his fingers against your wrist.
“I figured this was a better way to give you my number.” He could sense the heat rising in you, hear the quickening of your heartbeat. You were nervous.
“And what would I need your number for?” Matt was playing dumb on purpose, a tactic that didn’t slip past you based on your raised eyebrow, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to hear you say it.
“To ask you out. If you’re interested,” you said, moving your hand so Matt’s hand was practically resting on top of yours.
“I’m interested,” he said and you smiled.
Neither of you spoke for a moment, just enjoying each other’s company, the feel of your hands together.
“Well, hot shot, are you going to get your phone out or what?” you teased.
Matt’s face flushed red as he gave you an embarrassed smile and took his hand away from yours. He patted his pants pockets, searching for his phone before remembering he left it in the pocket of his suit jacket.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised. “I left it at the table. Don’t go anywhere.” He fumbled for his cane as he stood up. You chuckled as you watched him go.
“Everything okay?” Foggy asked when he came rushing back to the table like he hadn’t been watching you and Matt like a hawk.
“Perfect,” Matt said, quickly digging his phone out of his jacket before throwing it down and going back to you.
“He’s got it bad, doesn’t he?” Karen leaned over and whispered to Foggy.
“Oh, yeah.”
.
.
.
When your first date rolled around, Matt was nervous. Though not, it seemed, as nervous as you.
You were…distant the entire time. Not as talkative or playful as you usually were, either with the lawyer or the Devil. Matt had a hard time trying to get you to open up at dinner. Afterward, the two of you went to an orchestra performance. The tickets, you said, were discounted for police officers, so they weren’t quite as expensive as they usually would have been.
Matt hadn’t told you how much he loves listening to live music like that, so he was pleasantly surprised when you’d asked him if he’d like to go with you instead of just the usual dinner date. Unfortunately, the date wasn’t turning out as romantic as he’d hoped.
In the theater, while the soft notes of a single violin played, Matt reached for your hand, not only because he wanted to hold it, but because he wanted to see if you were even okay with him touching you. When his palm slid against yours, however, you froze. Only for a second, but still too long for Matt to be comfortable with. He got a sinking feeling in his stomach even as you squeezed his hand.
Afterward, when the performance was over, you and Matt were in your car on the way back to his apartment. But when you reached the building, Matt didn't get out.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked quietly. He could tell how stressed you already were. At his question, it only grew.
“No!” you said vehemently, finally turning to look at him properly for the first time since the start of the date.
“Then what is it? Because I thought,” his breath hitched. “I thought we had something.”
“That’s what scares me,” you admitted, voice quiet.
Truth.
Matt turned to you. “I don’t understand.”
“I thought that this was going to be fun. I think you’re funny and charming, so I said ‘what the hell’ and asked you out. But I didn’t think I’d like you so much. So soon, especially.” You stopped talking and turned away from Matt to stare out the windshield, your hands still on the wheel. “I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you.”
Truth.
Silence filled the car. Then slowly, quietly, you lifted a hand off the steering wheel and started reaching for Matt, though he wasn’t sure why. Technically, he shouldn’t have been able to know what you were doing, but he didn’t care. He grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles.
“You could never do anything to hurt me,” he said and he heard your breath catch. He tugged on your hand, pulling you closer. You didn’t resist when Matt brought his other hand up to your face.
You melted into him when he kissed you.
.
.
.
“What the hell happened to your face?” you asked when Matt opened the door to let you into his apartment a few weeks later, after making things official after that first date.
You and Matt had another date planned. Nothing fancy, just a home-cooked meal at his apartment. Matt was dreading it because, as were the first words out of your mouth, there was a large bruise on his face. Not quite a black eye, but paired with the split lip, it was obvious something had happened. It had been a few days since he got it, since he last saw you, but it hadn’t healed as much as he hoped. Matt tried hiding it under his glasses, which he stopped wearing around you, but it clearly didn’t work.
He stepped aside to let you in. Before the door was even closed, you were gently pulling his glasses off. Your fingertips then grazing the bruise, his lip, your eyes scanning his face, then the rest of his body for other injuries.
“It’s nothing,” he said, grabbing your wrist and kissing your palm. “I just had a minor bike accident.” It was the excuse he gave Foggy and Karen. They weren’t happy about it and somewhat doubtful, but they’d accepted it. Poor blind Matt, always getting into trouble. He hoped it would work on you as well.
“A bike accident?” you questioned.
“Yeah. The guy wasn’t paying attention and,” he gestures toward his eyes, “I didn’t even know he was there.”
“Bullshit, Matty,” you said softly. Matt flinched, not because your words were harsh—they weren't—but he was afraid that you found out about him. Even though the two of you have been dating for a while now, Matt still hadn’t told you about being the masked vigilante running around Hell’s Kitchen. He hadn’t told anyone.
“I know what it looks like when someone gets punched in the face.” You glared at him, even though you knew he couldn't see it.
Matt stood unmoving for a moment, trying to think of something to say while you waited, arms crossed over your chest, his glasses still in your hand, expecting an explanation.
“The food’s burning,” Matt blurted, rushing past you to get to the kitchen.
You let him past, letting your arms fall to your side as you slowly followed him. Matt quickly stirred the contents of the pan on the stove as he turned the burner down. You silently observed him all the while. When Matt started reaching for the cupboard to grab the plates, you stepped in to help, finally setting down his glasses that you had been holding hostage.
But even though you weren’t saying anything, Matt knew the discussion wasn’t over. He told himself he couldn’t tell you. You may have understood, but he doubted it. You were a cop. The one specifically assigned to find out his identity and bring him in. If you found out, Matt was sure that no matter how much you cared about him, you would do whatever you had to.
The two of you filled your plates and sat down. Matt started taking small bites of his dinner, but you didn’t touch yours. You didn’t even pick up a fork.
“Are you going to tell me who punched you, Matt?” Your voice was steady, but your heartbeat was anything but, beating hard and fast, barely contained within your chest.
Matt breathed out through his nose. “I told you—“
“You lied,” you cut him off.
“I’m fine,” Matt said, his voice raised though not quite yelling.
“You’re clearly not!” You were yelling then, not able to contain your emotions anymore. Of course you wanted to know who did this, wanted to defend him, shelter him. But Matt was tired of people pitying him.
He slapped his hand on the table, making the dishes rattle. “I don’t need you to protect me!”
You were stunned into silence. Matt had never yelled at you. The two of you never even fought before. Granted, you hadn’t been dating for all that long, but it still stung.
Then, without saying anything, you rose from your chair.
Matt said your name, reaching for you, but you stepped away. “Wait, please. I’m sorry.” He hadn’t meant to hurt you, he just wanted you to understand.
You grabbed your things and headed for the door. Matt followed close behind, but he didn’t try to grab you again.
“I didn’t mean—“
Your hand was on the doorknob, but you didn’t turn it.
“It’s not that I’m trying to protect you or that I think you can't handle yourself. I’m worried about you. I love you, you…idiot.” With that, you ripped open the door, running through it before slamming it shut in Matt’s face. Matt didn’t do anything, just stood there where you left him, processing what you said.
You loved him.
You hadn’t said that before.
Truth.
.
.
.
Over the next few days, Matt tried calling you, but you never picked up. The voicemails he left went unanswered. He had no idea if you ever listened to any of them—all filled with apologies and offers to talk. He didn’t want to let you go. But even still, Matt still couldn’t bring himself to tell you. There were never any offers for the truth, which was probably why you never called back.
He still went out every night, though he hasn’t seen you in that capacity very much since the two of you started dating. He never thought much about it. Before, he looked forward to your meetings. Not because of the exchange of information, but because he got to see you. It became more of a pleasant surprise if he saw you on his nights out. After the two of you got together, you didn’t appear to wait for him quite as much as you once had.
When Matt found you waiting for him after your fight, he felt conflicted. Of course he was going to speak with you. If you were waiting, it was probably important. He didn’t know how to handle the situation when you and Matt weren’t talking, but you and Devil never stopped being friendly.
Matt dropped down into the alley. This time, you didn’t flinch, probably used to him dropping in from above by then.
“Detective.” His usual greeting. Your meetings were never conducive to ‘how are you, ‘nice night,’ or anything else. Each meeting was usually a straightforward exchange of information broken up with a few friendly barbs and lingering looks.
“Devil,” you said with a sigh and pushed yourself off your car. You sounded defeated, disappointed.
“Everything okay?” he tentatively asked. The two of you didn’t usually ask after each other, but he couldn’t help himself. If it was out of character for the Devil to care about you, then so be it. If you weren’t speaking to Matt, this was the only way he had to make sure you were okay.
You stared at him for a moment. “Guy trouble. Anything you can do to help with that?” Your tone suggested you weren’t expecting a real answer.
Matt bit his cheek, debating whether or not to answer. “Depends on what he did.” He stepped toward you.
“He’s keeping something from me. When I tried asking about it, he got angry with me.”
Matt did get angry with you the night of your fight, but he wasn’t anymore. He led others to believe the version of him that was clumsy, an alcoholic even, desiring that above them finding out the truth. Did he have any right to be upset with you when you believed what he wanted you to?
Matt just wanted to keep you out of this life. Sure, you were more or less in the thick of it, telling Matt about all the instances where your job as an officer launched you into trouble. But the things he did as the Devil were more dangerous than what you normally dealt with. And hell, you were supposed to be stopping him. If anyone at your station found out you were meeting with him like this, helping him, then you’d be out of a job at best. Things would only get worse if they found out you were sleeping with the enemy. Matt decided it was better for you to never find out about his double life.
“Some secrets need to be kept,” Matt said, the words heavy in his mouth. “You think I let anyone know who I really am?”
You frown at him. “That nurse friend of yours knows who you are,” you said, bitterness coating your tongue.
Ah. Matt had forgotten you knew about Claire. One night, before you ever met Matt Murdock, you’d asked him how he survived getting the shit beat out of him on a regular basis. He mentioned offhand how he had a nurse on call, even if she was unhappy about it.
“That’s different,” Matt said weakly. For supposedly being a good lawyer, he was at a loss for words.
“Sure,” you said under your breath, angrily shoving your hands into your coat pockets.
“Do you mean to take this out on me when you’re mad at him?” Matt asked. He deserved your anger, but you didn’t know who he was. He had to play the part of the vigilante.
You almost said something but held back. Instead, you sighed and rubbed a hand down your face.
“What do you think of Wilson Fisk?” you asked, changing the subject. Matt bristled at the name. The man he was set on taking down had just gone public, claiming he wanted to give back to the city. Only Matt, Foggy, Karen, and a reporter, Ben Urich, seemed to know the truth about the so-called philanthropist.
“He’s not what he seems,” Matt growled. That was putting it mildly, but this wasn't the time or place to elaborate.
“I’ll see what I can find about him then,” you said, turning around to open the car door.
“No,” Matt said, taking a step toward you. You looked back at him, brow furrowed.
“‘No?’ I thought this was my job, why we’re even working together in the first place.”
“Fisk is….” Matt paused, licking his lips, trying to find the words. Yes, Fisk had to be taken down, but he couldn’t risk you being set in the man's crosshairs. If Fisk caught wind of you looking into him, it would end badly. “He’s dangerous.”
“That’s nothing new,” you said, unimpressed.
“Before he went public, I couldn’t even get anyone to speak his name.” Matt took another step forward, just inches from you. He needed you to understand. “And when I did, the guy preferred shoving a metal spike through his eye rather than be alive for Fisk to find out who gave him up.”
“Shit,” you said, concern filling you.
“He’s got officers in his pocket. I'm sure if any of your coworkers find out you even think less than the best of him, they’ll come for you. Maybe they’ll offer you money to change your mind, maybe they’ll find another way. Regardless, I need you to stay out of it.”
For all the time you’ve been working with Matt, this was the only time he ever warned you away from something. He could tell you were at least a little tempted to ignore his warnings, to go through with your private investigation anyway.
“What about you?” you asked, voice quiet, trying to cover your concern for him by looking away, but it still leaked through.
“I’m willing to take the risk. I have to, for my city.” Matt didn't leave any room for argument in his tone. He didn’t care what happened to him. He was going to do whatever it took to make sure Hell’s Kitchen and the people in it—you—were safe.
You wanted to argue, but you respected Matt’s desires, his concerns, his abilities enough not to. Instead, you grunted, stepping into Matt to pull open your car door, your back briefly brushing his chest. He tilted his face toward you as you did, his lips brushing against your head, light enough that you wouldn't notice before stepping away from him to get inside your car.
“You need to look into getting body armor or something. I can see your nipples through that shirt,” you said from the seat, your tone lighter, teasing, trying to cover up the worry you felt.
“You like it,” Matt said with a grin.
“Doesn’t mean I want to see you getting stabbed,” you said, so quiet that a normal person likely wouldn’t have caught what you said. Before Matt could respond, you said, “See you around,” and closed the door, driving off.
.
.
.
Mrs. Cardenas had just died. Or rather, been killed.
Officially, it was a mugging gone wrong. But Matt knew better.
Fisk wanted her apartment building, but she was the last holdout. So, he solved the problem.
Matt was working on his next move, ignoring Karen’s and Foggy’s calls, when his phone started ringing, repeating your name in that monotonous voice. He hesitated. It had been days since you asked the Devil about Fisk and he hadn't met with you again in the meantime. This would be the first time you reached out to Matt since your fight. He considered ignoring it, letting it go to voicemail. Maybe it would be better this way. After all, Matt could never tell you about himself. He tried convincing himself that the two of you would never work out anyway. Not just because he was a vigilante, but because a lawyer dating a police officer would only complicate each of your jobs. You wouldn't be able to work any case with a client of Matt's, and Matt would never be able to represent someone you were investigating. Sure, there were other stations in the city so the two of you might not cross professional paths often, but Matt's work took him wherever people needed help. One of you would always have to be giving in to the other, and Matt didn't want you to sacrifice the job you loved even though, at times, it frustrated you.
But he missed you. So much. He missed spending evenings and weekends with you, hearing the sound of your voice, your laugh. Taking you to your favorite cheap restaurant after a rough day and you just wanted to eat greasy food and drink cheap alcohol. He’d never get the feeling of your lips against his out of his mind.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he answered on the last ring, snatching his phone and quickly putting it to his ear.
Your name left his mouth as a desperate whisper, unable to conceal his feelings.
“Hey, Matty,” you said, your voice soft, loving. His heart clenched at his nickname. It told him all it needed to know about how you felt about him. But knowing that he couldn't give you what you wanted broke his heart. What you deserved. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“Of course,” he said without thinking, caught up in the sound of your voice and so not quite catching what you wanted to talk about until the words were already out of his mouth.
“In person.”
Matt knew he wouldn’t be strong enough if you were right in front of him. “Today’s not a good day…” he lied.
“Tomorrow then,” you offered.
“Or we could do it right now, over the phone." Rip the bandaid off now so he didn’t give you false hope by waiting to meet face to face.
You were silent for a moment and Matt knew you weren’t happy.
“So what you’re really saying is that you’re still going to lie to me.” The disappointment in your voice, the brokenness, was nearly too much for Matt.
He said your name. “I’m sorry.”
And he was. He didn’t want to do this to you, but he had no choice.
“That’s what you said in all your messages, but I guess you weren't actually telling the truth then, were you?” Your words stung, but he didn’t blame you. “God, Matt, I thought—“ you cut yourself off with a bitter laugh. “I thought we had something.” Matt fought back tears as he heard your voice shake, repeating the same words he once said to you.
“It’s better this way…if you don’t know.”
“Matt—“ He ended the call before you could say anything. Then he turned off his phone so you couldn’t call back.
So he wouldn’t break and tell you everything.
Matt threw his phone down and wiped his eyes, trying to calm his breathing. He needed to focus. He had a murderer to find. Had to figure out their connection to Fisk.
.
.
.
Matt could barely walk, let alone jump from roof to roof. Thinking back on that night, he could never quite recall how he managed to pull himself out of the river and back to the top of his apartment building, but he did. Maybe God was watching over him after all.
Matt managed to shove the door open and stumble inside. He thought he heard voices but couldn’t tell where they were coming from. He lost a lot of blood. He couldn’t hear straight, couldn't think straight. As he stumbled down the stairs, he could tell someone was definitely yelling somewhere. But he couldn’t worry about that right now. Matt needed to stop the bleeding—he needed to call Claire.
There were hands on him. Nobu must have survived, sent others after Matt to follow him home. He swung a fist, trying to fight off his attacker, but he missed and fell down the last few steps, landing face-first on the floor.
Hands were on him again, on his face, trying to take his mask off. He groaned and tried lifting himself up to fight whoever it was.
Then, “Stop it, Matthew!”
He knew that voice. He loved that voice.
He obeyed.
Matt stopped trying to get up and fight. Instead, he laid back down as you pulled his mask off and, with the help of someone else, he realized, flipped Matt over onto his back. Matt cried out as a hand dug into his side where the gash from Nobu's weapon was.
“Jesus. We need to get him to a hospital.” Foggy. What was Foggy doing here? For that matter, why were you in his apartment?
“No hospitals,” you said in tandem with Matt, though his voice came out as a strangled whisper.
“Clearly he’s insane, but you?!” Foggy shouted. “You’re a cop! What do you mean ‘no?’”
“How the hell do you plan on explaining this to a doctor?” You looked Matt over, finally noticing the deep slash on his side, the puddle of blood forming beneath him as you knelt at his side. “Oh, shit…”
You sounded so scared, your voice shaking on each word. He could taste the saline in the air from your tears. Matt tried reaching for you, but you brushed him off, pressing a cloth you had gotten from somewhere into his side, trying to slow the bleeding.
“Then what the fuck are we supposed to do?”
“Call Claire,” Matt managed to say and tried reaching for the burner phone he had in his pants pocket.
“Who?”
“She’s a nurse,” you said, realizing what Matt was doing and grabbing his phone, tossing it to Foggy, covering it in blood as you did so. “He talked about her once. Apparently, it’s her job to patch him up.”
Foggy shook his head in disbelief before calling the only number saved on the phone.
Then Matt passed out.
When he woke up, it was just him and Foggy. He didn’t remember Claire stitching him back together. He didn’t remember you leaving.
Matt tried listening for you, but you weren’t anywhere to be found. Then Foggy noticed he was awake, and he had the most painful conversation he’d ever had. Accusations of lying and manipulating flew from his friend’s mouth. Foggy couldn’t accept Matt being the Devil.
As Matt sat on his couch, crying, begging for Foggy to come back, he thought it was probably for the best you left when you found out. Your absence couldn't hurt him nearly as much as your words.
Matt didn’t sleep, didn’t even move from the couch. He just laid there, steeping in misery and failure.
He set out to kill Fisk and almost died himself. He lost his friend. He lost you. God only knew what Claire would say to him when they saw each other next. That is, if she ever wanted to see him again.
Matt buried his face further into his arm and curled his legs up tighter to his chest even though his side screamed at him as he pulled at his stitches. So lost in thought, he didn’t notice when the lock on his door rattled and then opened. Nor did he notice as the person started creeping closer. It wasn’t until they came out of the hall that Matt realized they were there.
He tensed, ready to leap up, but then—
“Matty?” you whispered, coming to kneel by the end of the couch where his head was.
Matt gasped before sobbing your name. He started to reach for you but stopped himself, unsure if he'd be allowed to touch you. But then you kissed his forehead, stroked his cheek, and said, “It’s okay. I’m here.”
Matt threw out his hand, twisting it in the fabric of your shirt.
“Don’t leave,” Matt said, a new wave of tears falling from his eyes. The hand that was on his cheek started brushing through his hair.
“Don’t push me away.” A gentle demand. No harsh words or steely tone, but firm enough that Matt knew not to disobey.
You now knew he was the Man in the Mask and yet you were still there. Perhaps he was wrong about you, but he still couldn’t stop the doubt from clinging to his thoughts.
“Why did you leave before? You were here when I came back, but when I woke up, you were gone.” For now, he was bypassing the questions about why you and Foggy were in his apartment, instead needing to know why you weren’t around when he came to.
“I needed a change of clothes. I took my time doing it and stopped to grab some food for breakfast. I knew Foggy needed to talk to you, so I wanted to give you two space.” Matt closed his eyes as you finished, staying silent as you kept running your fingers through his hair, basking in your touch.
You sat there and watched him for a moment, eyes drifting over every cut and bruise on his face before moving to his side. You heaved a heavy sigh through your nose, and Matt flinched. You frowned, and even though he figured you were upset, angry, disgusted, he tugged on your shirt, trying to bring you closer still.
“You’ll be okay here if I go make breakfast?” you asked softly.
Matt wanted to say no. He wanted you right there with him. He wanted to hold onto you and never let go. But he had never been so desperate around you before. He wasn’t sure how you’d react to him being so…needy. And the two of you still had to talk. About him, about your relationship. God, were you going to arrest him? Is that really why you were gone? To go tell the other officers at your station, have them come and get him?
You flicked his forehead, and his eyes shot open automatically.
“Quit overthinking,” you said. “I just asked if you'll be alright on the couch while I’m in the kitchen. I’ll still be in the apartment. I’m not leaving.”
“Okay,” Matt conceded.
“Okay,” you repeated softly. You stroked his cheek again before standing.
You were both silent as you puttered around the kitchen, apparently going all out and making almost everything you could think of. Matt couldn't help but smile. You wouldn’t go through the trouble of making all that if you were mad, right?
Eventually, you returned to the couch, setting two plates filled with food on the coffee table. Matt was just about to get up when you turned toward him and pushed your arm underneath him.
“What—?”
“Let me help you,” you said. “Please."
Matt paused for a moment before nodding. He threw his arm around your shoulders, and you helped slowly lift him up until he was sitting. Matt winced at the tugging on his stitches, but that was unavoidable. When you started pulling away, Matt tightened his hold on you briefly before letting you go. He wanted you to stay by his side, but he didn't think he was allowed to ask that of you quite yet.
Then you handed him a plate and fork and sat beside him on the couch, the two of you eating in silence. He barely touched his food even though he probably should have made an effort to eat more after losing so much blood. You managed to clear your plate without any problem, though.
“Done?” you asked, noticing that he didn’t appear to have much of an appetite. Matt nodded.
You took his plate and started cleaning up the kitchen while Matt just sat and waited for the other shoe to drop.
When you finished, you again went back to the couch. Matt tensed, ready for whatever you were going to say.
“Do you want a shower? …Or a sponge bath?” Well, he wasn’t ready for that.
“What?” Matt sputtered. Why weren’t you yelling? Getting angry?
“Claire said to try not to get your stitches wet right now.”
That wasn’t quite what he was referring to, but…
“You met Claire?” He thought of how you sounded when you mentioned her to the Devil just a few days ago.
“Of course I met Claire. I don’t know how to sew a person back together. She’s nice, by the way.”
Matt just nodded, still a little wary.
“Alright, come on,” you said a moment later. You grabbed the zipper on his jacket and started tugging it down. Matt grabbed your wrist, stopping you. He didn't want you to see. You couldn't see what he looked like, covered in scars and other remnants of his double life. “Matt?”
He floundered for what to say, his mouth opening and closing, unable to find the words.
For all the time you’ve been dating, Matt had carefully avoided showing his body to you. He didn't know what you’d think. Would you pity him? Feel sorry that he’s been hurt so many times? You would have undoubtedly asked what had happened to him, and the excuse of being hit by a stray cyclist would only explain away so many scars. But that was before. Now that you knew…
“Tell me what’s wrong,” you insisted. Your hand was still on Matt's zipper, his hand still wrapped around your wrist.
“You’ll see me,” he whispered. He didn’t know how to deal with being so…exposed. Despite what Foggy might think, Matt hadn’t been with anyone since putting on the mask. The only person who’s ever seen him was Claire, but their time together was never romantic.
You leaned forward, pressing your lips lightly against his in a gentle kiss. Matt only just got over his shock and managed to reciprocate when you pulled away before pressing your forehead against his.
“I’ve already seen you, Matt. I’ve seen you for a long time.”
That…didn’t make sense to him. His brow furrowed, about to ask you what you meant, but you spoke again.
“I held you while Claire stitched you up. I’ve seen all your scars. And…” you trailed off. You pulled back, your forehead leaving Matt’s, though you still stayed close. Your hand switched from holding his zipper to pressing against his chest, right above his heart. “I’ve known about you for quite a while now.”
Matt jerked back, though not so far that your hand was forced to leave his body. You moved it with him as he leaned back, firmly pressing against him, reassuring him of your presence.
“How?” he asked, and you gave a dry chuckle.
“I may be a cop, Matty, but I’m not stupid.” You smiled at him.
And then Matt reflected on those first meetings with you as Matt Murdock. He didn’t recall you reacting in any significant way during that first meeting when he was representing a client nor when you two met at Josie’s.
But then he thought about how you had explicitly waited for him at the bar, determined to talk to him again, give him your number. Your first date, when you were so distant that Matt thought something had happened or that he had done something to offend.
“I mean, come on.” You rolled your eyes. “The skin-tight clothes, the fact you let me get up close and personal with those lips of yours even before we kissed. Hell, Matt, you never even tried to disguise your voice! If anything, I’m half-convinced you were using your bedroom voice on me when you were dressed up in that black outfit.”
Matt’s face flushed red at your last comment. It wasn’t that he tried to seduce you as the Devil, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the way you shivered whenever he spoke to you with a lower, huskier tone to his voice.
“You never told anyone?” Matt asked, trying to control the heat in his face.
“I won’t lie to you,” your tone turned solemn. “I thought about it. I really did. I went back to Josie’s to try to confirm it for myself.” You looked down. “And on that first date… I kept fighting with myself. I kept saying I didn’t know why I was going out with you when I was supposed to be turning you in. But then, a part of me didn’t want to stop you. I admire you, what with everything you can do, even though I have no clue how you do it. And I care about you. Have from the very beginning, I think. I don’t know that I could have done anything to hurt you if I’d tried.”
Truth.
Matt’s emotions were overloaded, his mind not knowing how to handle the feeling of abandonment from Foggy to the acceptance and love from you. And then Matt thought back to how he treated you.
How he had yelled, had assumed that you thought him weak and pitiable. When really, he realized, you had known the whole time, and you just wanted him to come to you, be open and honest. Instead, he had hidden and pushed you away even though it killed him to do so. But even with all of that, you hadn’t stayed away.
“You came here last night to confront me,” Matt realized. “To catch me coming back as the Devil.”
“I did,” you admitted, the thumb of the hand on his chest stroking back and forth as you kept your hand in place. “I knew you were being stubborn. I figured we could both tell each other the truth.”
“And Foggy?”
“Bad luck, I suppose,” you shrugged. “He was outside your door when he heard me freaking out and let himself in with his key.”
Matt nodded, his heart breaking a little more when thinking of Foggy’s reaction. But then he focused on you, your hand pressing into him, feeling his heartbeat. He raised his own hand and covered yours.
“I’m sorry,” Matt said, more tears starting to pool in his eyes. “For trying to keep this from you. For trying to push you away. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.” He was sorry he hurt Foggy. Matt was sorry for so many things.
“I forgive you,” you said, leaning forward to once again press your forehead to his. Matt let out a shuddering breath and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep the tears from falling, but it only served to make them fall.
Then, with his hand on yours, he guided you back to the jacket zipper, and together the two of you pulled it down. Matt bared himself to you, every stitch and bruise, all the broken pieces of him on display for your judgment.
He waited for you to say something, anything, about how he looked, ask about all that had happened to him. Instead, you kissed him, soft and loving, and said, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
i just remembered that next chapter of false god is going to have FRANK!!
False God | m.m. | 18
Matt Murdock x Avenger!reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: Language. Mild violence. Matt’s a punk ass bitch
Author’s Note: Woops
Series Masterlist | Talk to me!
Matt had tried calling. Every day, for nearly a week. He called. And called. And called. He left messages every single time, apologizing. Explaining. Never begging; even if he wanted her back, he never told her did. He just..he needed her to understand his motives. That somehow, the explanation would justify the end.
He called in the morning, when he first woke up. He'd call in the evening --right before he would go hunt down her shooter. That mission was going terribly, with Elektra always on his heels. He called whenever he left after seeing Elektra. Something about how that woman made him felt when they were alone also made Matt feel like he was being eaten alive.
Eventually, however, the message was no longer her voice greeting him but an automated one.
The number you're trying to reach in unavailable. Please hang up or dial one for more options.
A few times, he dialed one. But he drew the same conclusion each time:
She'd blocked him.
Rightfully so.
That didn't stop him from trying to call. Or asking
Foggy about her. Though Foggy insisted she hadn't talked to him either ("Listen, she doesn't.…she knows I'll tell you. So she blocked me too. Maybe leave her alone"). Matt should leave her alone. But he just…he couldn’t.
Even after a rather late night visitor, Matt didn’t think he’d be able to.
*****
Someone was in the apartment.
He heard them, just barely. They were light on their feet; trained to be quiet. But Matt was stealthier. Or, he thought he was at least. He slid into his apartment through the back window, feet hitting the ground just as lightly as the person in his home. He didn’t recognize the sound of their pulse, nor the smell of their body wash or soaps. But he could hear them rummaging through the drawers, as if looking for something.
They stopped, suddenly. Matt slipped through apartment silently, listening closely as they moved to his closet, digging through it and pulling out things. Just as he approached the open bedroom door, though, a hanger flew less than an inch from his head. Then another. And another, before a swift kick hit him in the stomach, knocking him back.
“I guess the Devil isn’t all that scary.”
Matt laid on the ground for a moment, processing the voice. It was familiar; like a memory that wasn’t his. An annoyed sigh left his lips.
“Agent Romanoff,” he stated plainly, slowly sitting up.
He felt her eyes on him before she returned to the bedroom. As if she hadn’t just knocked him on his ass in less than two minutes. Matt was smart enough to pick his battles; Black Widow was not someone he wanted to fight. Not tonight, anyway.
“I’m getting her things,” Natasha explained as dropped various items of hers into boxes.
Matt trailed his hand over the bed, counting the boxes silently. “Where is she?”
“Far away from you.”
Matt pulled his mask off, throwing it to the bed. “That’s not an answer.”
Natasha ignored him as she moved towards the bathroom, snatching a box off the bed. Matt followed close behind.
“She blocked me.”
“Actually, I blocked you,” Natasha corrected, gathering various make up tools and beauty products. “After the ninth call, I would have taken the hint.”
“I just wanted to explain —“
Natasha whipped the hairbrush at him, but he caught it with ease. “Explain what, exactly?”
Natasha dropped the box on the counter, stepping towards him. The tension in the air shifted, and suddenly Matt knew why they called her Black Widow. He didn’t need to see her to know that Natasha was giving him a thousand yard stare. He knew she was probably determining how many ways she could kill him and make it look like an accident. The way she stalked towards him, for the first time in his life —Matt was intimidated.
His half step back proved it, as well.
“Explain what, Murdock?” Natasha repeated, still prowling closer to him. “Explain that you brought an assassin into your shared home? That you lied to her about it? Covered it with forced affection because you knew it was wrong?”
Matt continued to step back until he was pressed into a corner. For the first time since he dawned the title of Daredevil —he felt fear.
“Or, that you’re still seeing Elektra? Because you chose her; we all know you chose her, Matt. Maybe just admit it.” Natasha pressed a well manicured finger into his chest. “You should be sad, Matthew Murdock. Because I know men like you. And let me tell you.” She suddenly grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look at her. The fiery silhouette was even more threatening. “You are not half the man you think that you are.”
She shoved his face away and returned to the bathroom without another word.
“Get out of my apartment,” Matt finally ordered, but he was breathless.
“I’d love for you to make me,” she countered as she packed up the remaining tools.
They both knew he wouldn’t. Maybe even couldn’t.
Natasha stepped out of the bathroom, setting the box with the rest of the things she’s packed. Her eyes caught a picture on the nightstand; of her and Matt. A silly selfie that was printed and framed. Natasha picked up, looking it over and picking out details. The smile that was on her friend’s face was the brightest she’d ever seen it be. Glancing back at Matt, Natasha frowned deeply.
Then she simply dropped the picture on the floor; letting it shatter.
*****
Their thoughts were what caught her attention first. A mixture of the same violent, loud slaughtering from her shooter’s mind. A voice so vaguely familiar but she just couldn’t put her finger on it. But then it was him; it was Matt. He was vengeful, but trapped. He wanted to hurt this man, but he was trying to figure out how to escape his chains. But his thoughts were just as violent as the shooter’s. Just as loud. Just as insistent. But he was chained to a pillar on a rooftop.
The thought made her laugh out loud for the first time since she’d left the hospital.
She stood on the street, listening to their thoughts mingle into one another’s. There wasn’t an exact pinpoint but she huffed in frustration as she realized she had to do something to help. It simply went against what she was trained to do; against what she believed in. Even if Matt was at the stop of her shit list.
When she managed to figure out what building the two were on top of, she pushed her way into the elevator. Just because she felt like she had to help didn’t mean she had to be quick about it. She hummed to the elevator music as each floor dinged, rocking back on her heels as she checked her texts.
Got your stuff from Murdock’s.
Hey!! May wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow!!
I can’t believe you left the hospital, Deja vu. Reckless. I’d never do something like that. Ever.
The elevator dinged to the top floor, and she slipped out. A man was hustling down the stairs to the roof, mumbling about the crazy woman in 214. He gave her a dirty look but ignored her as he walked passed her. She slipped up and opened the door, casually. Her eyes stayed glued to her phone.
The gun to her head didn’t even phase her as she shut the door behind her. She held her finger up as she finished her message to Peter.
“Well shit.”
She finally looked up, and a surprised smile came to her face.
“Castle?”
The gun dropped from her head and he holstered it, grinning at her. “And here I thought you’d finally kicked it after the robot shit.”
She waved him off. “Me? Please. That was child’s stuff compared to the shit you and I have seen.” She motioned to her body though, giving him a look. “You shot me, by the way. Fucking hurts.”
“That’s cause you’re a dipshit who jumps in front of bullets.”
“It’s sort of what I do.”
“What the hell is going on?” Matt suddenly demanded, and her attention switched to him.
“Frank’s our killer.”
“Clearly I didn’t pick up on that myself —maybe you should arrest him,” Matt snapped at her.
“Not my circus, not my monkeys,” she aptly pointed out. It was the first thing they’d said to each other since she walked out of his life. And good god, it was not what Matt wanted to hear. “I’d tell you to stop but you don’t really listen to reason. Never did.”
“As smart as you are pretty,” Frank commented, grinning at her. “Always did like that about you.
She scoffed. “You liked that I could take a grown man down with just my thighs.”
Frank nodded thoughtfully, grinning still. “That was quite a sight that I liked to see, you’re right.”
“If you two done flirting,” Matt seethed, pulling against his restraints. She glanced at him, noting the gun duct taped to his hands. It was an odd sight but she didn’t care enough to question it. “You need to take him down. Now.”
“And get chained to a wall like you? I’ll pass.” She kept her attention on Frank. He made a face then gave her a pointed look as she pried into his thoughts. Her brow furrowed as she saw his memories; his motives. And her heart…even Matt heard her heart just break. He wondered what she was seeing that hurt her so bad suddenly. “Oh, Frank…”
“Get the fuck outta my head.”
“Frank, this isn’t how to solve the problem —“
“It’s only way. You can’t stop me,” he warned her, pointing down at her. “You got a taste of what happens when you try.”
She shook her head though, putting her hands up. “I’m not gonna stop you. I told you that.”
Matt watched as Frank returned to his position on the roof, taking his aim once more. She watched him closely, walking over to sit on the wall above where Matt was trapped. Feeling her so close was agonizing for the vigilante; there she was. But she was so far away still. But he felt that familiar tingle at the based of his neck as she popped a thought into his head.
“You look like an asshole,” she told him silently, eyes trained on Frank.
“You need to stop him,” Matt demanded back.
She simply shook her head. “He’ll go willingly if we let him finish.”
“Who is he to make this call? Won’t you feel a little guilty?”
“Will you?” She asked, out loud. Frank glanced at her, frowning. But she waved him off as she returned to Matt’s mind. “I didn’t think you were capable of feeling guilt.”
“This really isn’t the time to talk —“
“Your sixty something phone calls suggested you wanted to talk.” A thought flashed across his mind of him and Elektra, kissing. It wasn’t voluntary; it was a guilty thought. One that only appeared because she was just so close and he felt like hell for choosing Elektra. But she sucked in a breath and casted her eyes down. “I guess I was wrong.”
The gunshots rang through both their heads, and she closed her eyes for a moment. Matt pulled against the chains once more, screaming out at Frank angrily. As the gang members stormed from the club, Frank made it clear it was him. Antagonized them; yelled at them to come get him. That’s when she decided this was a bigger problem than she anticipated.
“They’re coming up here,” Matt yelled out loud now.
“That was the plan,” Frank responded idly, grabbing his more portable weaponry.
She didn’t have anything other than her fists, and a refusal to use a gun.
“Move your legs,” Matt snapped at her. She hopped off the wall without question, and grabbed a metal pipe that lay on the ground, twirling it in her fingers. It would have to do in a pinch; it wouldn’t be the first time. A shot rang out and she turned to Matt, who had shot the locks on the chains with the gun forced on him.
“Are you going to help me?” He asked, holding his hands up.
She hummed for a moment, resting the pipe on her shoulder. Then, with a very insincere smile, shook her head. “No, I don’t think I will.”
“Are you fucking kidding me —“
“Maybe if you weren’t such a self righteous ass —“
“I’m sensing some tension between you two, but I’m gonna suggest you figure that shit out later,” Frank snapped at them. “We have company.”
You were correct when you said that daredevil has angst at its core. Nothing exists without it.
False God | m.m. | 17
Matt Murdock x Avenger!reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: ANSGTTTTT. Matt is still a punk ass bitch.
Author’s Note: Listen. Listen. I’ve been writing these chapters for WEEKS now. You’ll also recognize dialogue from this post (it’s mine, truly, I am plagiarizing myself don’t call me out on it). Have I mentioned I’m on a fuckin roll?
Series Masterlist | Talk to me!
Tony had only found Matt by chance, really. And it wasn’t even because he was tracking the guy’s phone.
Pepper had forced him into a questionable party, noting something about business partners of Stark Industries. He wasn’t really even listening when she explained it. Just said okay and agreed like he always did. A tuxedo and a couple drinks later, and Tony was sidled up to the bar of a small party, making small talk with various people who he didn’t actually care about.
It was at this point that he turned around at some commotion —someone yelling, wine being spilled and a glass shattering. He almost offered his help —but then he realized what was happening. Sort of, at least.
That was most certainly Matt Murdock; and that was most certainly him walking away from spilling that wine. Tony watched closer, frowning deeply as a very beautiful woman took his arm, whispering in his ear.
Tony didn’t need to know anything else. Didn’t need to ask any questions, or even follow him. Because it didn’t matter if that was Elektra or not. It didn’t matter who the woman was; all that mattered to Tony, in that moment, was that Matt Murdock was at swanky goddamn party, with a woman who wasn’t his girlfriend, while she suffered alone in the hospital.
Before he texted her, he made sure to send another important message.
*****
He’s with her.
That’s all the text said.
That’s all it needed to say.
*****
She tried to stay in the hospital. She really did. But the morning after Tony texted her, she was getting antsy. Matt was out galavanting around New York with his ex girlfriend, but she was sitting in a hospital gown eating jello. Waiting. Foggy stopped by in the morning with a bagel and coffee, smiling at her reassuringly as he sat down.
By mid afternoon, she was seemingly getting restless, trying to force herself to sleep. But she tossed and turned for hours, hurting her left side as she tried to keep her mind off of Matt. Peter visited next, telling her about how Ned found out he was Spider-Man. She reminded him that secret identities were sort of the key to being a superhero but he insisted Ned was his “guy in the chair.”
That was a ridiculous notion, but it got her through the rest of the day until the sun was starting to set. Then she caved, ripping the heart monitor off her chest. This alerted the nurses, and Claire stormed into the room while she was pulling the IVs and tubes from her arms.
“What the hell are you doing?” Claire demanded.
“I’m going home,” she answered simply, yanking the hospital gown off and grabbing the clothes Karen had brought for her.
“You can’t just go home,” Claire argued, snatching her pants so she couldn’t put them on. She slipped her shirt over her head with a huff.
She gave Claire a pointed look, but there was something worse going on. Claire could tell. “I sure as fuck can. I’m fine. I can walk, and I’ve recovered.”
“What’s going on?” Claire asked, tone shifting towards being soft now.
The two watched each other and she looked down. “Matt hasn’t come to see me because he’s running around New York with his ex. According to Stark, anyway.”
“Oh shit.” Claire let out a breath, looking down for a moment. “You think…you really think Matt would cheat on you?”
“I think he’s lied to me, and hasn’t come to see me while I sit in the hospital,” she offered. No. She didn’t think Matt was cheating on her. But she knew him well enough to know the effect Elektra had on him; he’d shown her himself. “I…I need to go home, Claire.”
The nurse hesitated for a moment before she handed over the jeans with a slow nod. “Before you came along, I used to warn him that martyrs end up bloody and alone.”
She sat down and slid her jeans over her legs slowly, taking a moment shimmy them up. “I guess you were right, huh?”
“I had hoped I wouldn’t be, when he told me about you.”
She scoffed, looking down for another moment before she stood, buttoning the jeans. They hung close to her hip, and she flinched from the pain, but it subsided quickly enough.
“Matt…Matt is so many things, Claire,” she started, sitting back down on the bed. She looked out the window. “I thought he was a hero, but I think he’s just…I think he’s just an idiot that can’t stay out of trouble.”
Claire couldn’t help but laugh, nodding in agreement. “I think most people look at heroes like that.”
But shook her head. “I don’t know,” she continued, biting at her lip. “I think…at the end of the day, Matt is not a martyr; I think Matt’s a problem.”
Claire leaned in and took her hands gently. “I think…I think you know what you need, at the end of the day.”
She nodded once, standing. “I do know, yeah.”
*****
Matt didn’t think she would be discharged from the hospital so quickly. Truly, based on the severity of the injuries, he thought she would be there at least another week. It was the only reason he willingly brought Elektra back to the apartment; she wasn’t supposed to come home. Maybe if he had visited her —or called her or anything he would have known better.
“You have company,” Stick announced, pushing the door to Matt’s bedroom open. “It’s the Avenger. I’m surprised she’s not dead, honestly.”
Matt hadn’t heard her open the door. Hadn’t heard her walking up the stairs, or turning the key. He wasn’t listening like he should have been. He was just focused on Elektra, and the poison that was creeping it’s way through her bloodstream.
“Matt, what the actual fuck —“
The shift in her voice from his name to the curse of her sentence —it went annoyance to anger very quickly. It was betrayal, tying it all together. He knew the moment from when she walked in that he was fucked. But hearing her heart falter as she slid to a stop, staring at Elektra in his bed —in their bed was worse than he anticipated.
“I can explain —“
He didn’t need her to think he was cheating on her. That was the last thing he would do. But the scene before her was clear as day, and suspiciously well presented.
She put her hands up, shaking her head as her hands trembled. “I…there’s no need. I don’t want to hear your shitty excuses, Matt.”
“Please —“
The memories that Matt had shown her of Elektra were flashing through her mind as she stared him down. He could hear her heart racing; the blood rushing to her cheeks as she only got angrier. She trusted him so much. But something about his history with Elektra was too much for him or her; he was drawn to Elektra no matter how much he loved her. She knew that; and the tingling in the base of his skull said she was seeing it for herself.
“Get out of my head,” he murmured, voice low.
“I was shot,” she said with a motion to the left side of her body. Her movements were slow, painful as she moved into the bedroom further and started to yank her clothes out of her drawers. She was holding back tears. “I was shot twice, Matt. I had a bullet lodged in my fucking hip. And I called you. I called you over and over and over again. Foggy and Karen called. Fuck, even Claire called. Do you know who came to visit me when you didn’t?” She demanded, pointing at him angrily. “Fucking Tony Stark. Someone who I genuinely didn’t think ever would want to see me again. How come he could make sure I was okay but you fucking couldn’t?” She motioned to Elektra and Stick, shaking her head. “But here you are. That’s why, huh? Just…just playing fucking house with your ex girlfriend.”
Her attention turned to Elektra and it was in this moment that Matt heard her heart falter. Skip a beat. He glanced at Elektra, and he realized what he had done.
Elektra was wearing one of her shirts.
That was the final blow to their crumbling relationship. And Matt knew it as she took a trembling breath.
“You know what?” She whispered, looking back at him. Her voice was calmer than the rest of her body. “She can keep my shirt. She can keep the bed, and the apartment. Fuck, she can even keep you. Because…because fuck this.”
“You have to understand —“
“You were already going to break up with me, Matt! Why are you arguing? Isn’t this what you wanted?” She started stuffing her clothes haphazardly in a bag that sat on the floor next to the dresser. Matt didn’t try to stop her. “I’ll…I’ll send for my shit. Just…don’t call me. Ever.”
He tried to follow her out, body shaking as he reached for her. But she snatched her hand away from him, turning to him. Around him, the sight of her appeared. Rage, hurt, betrayal. It was all there, in plain sight.
“I can hear what you think, Matt! You don’t want this anymore! You think you’re this fucking bad guy who got me shot but I chose this life long before I met you. But…but that’s not really why you’re leaving. We both know why.” She yelled at him, turning to face him fully. “You’re screaming it. You love her; you want her. You never stopped. And I will not live in that shadow. I may fucking hate myself, but not enough to live like this.”
“I’m sorry,” he managed to say, but his voice was broken as he looked at her one final time. Matt was suddenly realizing that this was a terrible idea; this sudden hole in his heart from where she used to occupy was consuming him. But it was too late. “I-I really am.”
Just as she turned to leave, she paused and looked between him and the bedroom. “I hope you see my face when you fuck her, Murdock. I hope it makes you sick, and makes you hate yourself even more than you already do,” she seethed, pointing at him. “And I hope, when you realize you fucked up and you crawl back to the one real thing you’ve ever known, it kills you when I slam the door in your fucking face.”
Without another word, the vision of her disappeared and with it went her.
“It was nice meeting you!” Stick called after her as she slammed the front door. “Well she’s a bitch.”
Matt looked at him with a deep frown, listening for her voice as she stormed out of the apartment building. He caught what she was saying; hearing her voice one more time —it trembling as she made a phone call.
“Foggy?” She said into the phone, voice shaking as she finally started to cry. “I-I need somewhere to stay.”
Matt already hated himself.
*****
“You know, I wasn’t expecting a text from you. Or from your spider child.”
Tony leaned against his car, outside Peter’s apartment. The kid had mentioned she returned to subbing at his school, and that she looked worse for wear. Tony knew he had played a part in that.
“Yeah, well, I figured you’d want to know about your coworker, Romanoff.”
There was a pause on the other line. “You know where he lives?”
“Well that depends,” Tony countered, looking around as Peter ran out of the building. Tony opened the door, motioning for him to be quiet and get in. “You gonna kill the guy?”
Natasha hummed on the other line, as if she wasn’t actually sure. “No,” she settled on saying. “But I am going to pay him a visit.”
“There’s something off about him,” Tony remarked, shutting the door of the car. He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder, opening his door now. “He moved quick for a blind guy in an unfamiliar place.”
“Maybe he’s not actually blind.”
“I feel like she would have definitely known if he wasn’t actually blind though.”
Natasha hummed again. “Let me see what I can dig up. I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.” Tony hesitated for a moment, then continued. “And Romanoff? Make sure you go see her if you come around. She…she needs us, I think.”
warnings: some tickling and kissing but none other than that i don’t think
here’s some sleepy fluff i wrote this weekend because there is nothing i want more than to wake up in this man’s arms and then just lay in bed all morning <3
you woke to a gentle, calloused thumb rubbing at your shoulder, and your lover’s warm body pressed against your back. the quiet rumble of the city outside further pulled you out of your sleep. when you finally cracked your eyes open, it was clear the sun was long risen, golden rays streaming in the window.
you smiled thinking back to last night. for once, all had been calm in hell’s kitchen. matt had taken the night off from everything, and the two of you had spent the evening together. it wasn’t anything special, but it’d been wonderful. matt had been busy with the firm lately, and even busier with everyone causing problems for the devil of hell’s kitchen. last night, you’d finally gotten him to yourself, and the way he tugged you closer as you woke up told you he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
“morning.” his chest rumbled with his sleep laced voice, stubble grazing your neck as he kissed behind your ear, then your shoulder. you smiled, pulling him closer by grabbing the hand on your arm and wrapping it further around your body. matt continued to kiss up and down your neck and shoulder, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
eventually, you turned around in matt’s arms, wanting to see him. he immediately pulled you close again, kissing your forehead. “good morning.” he could feel your cheek tilt up in a smile as your voice was muffled by his chest, where you had curled up.
you had just closed your eyes again when you felt him start to move. unwilling to get out of bed just yet, you wrapped your arms tighter around him. “it’s nearly 11, sweetheart,” matt chuckled.
“matty,” you pouted, yanking him back toward you. “wanna stay here.” he sighed at your whining, but obliged, pulling the silk sheets back over the two of you. you hummed in content, closing your eyes yet again. matt’s hands settled on your back, as he held you close, chin resting on top of your head.
after a few minutes of silence, save for matt’s gentle breathing and heartbeat, he started running one of his hands up and down your back. you gave a small shiver as one of matt’s fingers traced up your spine. moments later, matt ran one of his fingers over your ribs, just a little too close to your side. your breath hitched, and his hand stilled.
“ticklish?” he asked, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.
“no,” you lied, knowing that if your lover listened to your heartbeat, as he always did, it’d give you away instantly.
matt chuckled, pulling you closer with the other hand. he ducked his head down, so he was right next to your ear and whispered. “liar.” the tone of his voice sent a chill up your spine, and caused you to scrunch your neck at the sensation. before you could do anything else, the hand that had given you away was skittering over your side.
“mahahatt,” you whined, trying to sound serious through the small giggles he was drawing out of you. you squirmed, though not as hard as you could’ve, but knew that you weren’t going anywhere. matt was far stronger than you were, and seemed determined to keep torturing you.
your body jolted as he dug his fingers into the back of your ribs, pulling a small squeak from you. with that, he let his fingers come to a stop, leaning down to kiss you on the nose. “you’re adorable,” he said, and his expression told you he meant it. “now, c’mon. you ready to get up?” you whined, wanting more of this soft and playful side of matt that you’d been missing recently.
instead of giving him an answer, you just nuzzled yourself further into his chest, keeping the silk sheets pulled over your body. you unwrapped one hand to trace over a scar on his chest, the other curled under your body.
matt took his own arm from where it was tucked underneath you, and grabbed your wandering hand in his own, placing a kiss on your knuckles. you closed your eyes as his fingers entwined with yours, missing the smirk on his face.
with your free arm in his hand, pulled away from your body, matt was free to dust his fingers over your side again. between his legs, which he had entwined with yours under the covers, and your hand in his own, you found yourself unable to squirm away.
“m-matty, nonoho!” you whined through sleepy giggles. he just smiled at you, drinking in the sound of your laughter that he loved so much.
after a few moments, and a few pinches at your ribs, he let his hands still once again. you laid there, catching your breath, yet made no move to get up. “alright, sweetheart,” matt said, “you ready to get up now?”
you groaned, squeaking as he squeezed your side in a wordless, playful threat. “or do i have to continue?”
“no!” you laughed, untangling your legs from his.
“no? no, i don’t have to continue, or no, you’re not getting up?” matt teased, grin on his face.
“i’m getting up, i’m getting up,” you promised, matching his smile with your own. “but only if you’ll make me breakfast?”
he fluttered his fingers over your ribs one last time, pulling another string of giggles from you, before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “i suppose it’s the least i could do.”
matt stood up and took you in his arms. you immediately curled into his chest, snaking your arms around his neck. “i love you, matty.”
“i love you too, sweetheart.” you grinned, and he smirked, hearing your heart start racing again. as he carried you the kitchen to start the day, you kissed him softly on his collarbone.
this was your favorite kind of morning, you decided.
hello, i had this thought earlier about being with matt and foggy and you know, the gang, when the power goes out. you don't know about his abilities, but when you hear some sound that makes you jump, you subconciously reach for matt and he just tries to act like it's not a big deal but inside he's losing his mind that you got scared and instantly wanted to be protected by him of all people
Yes yes yes yes yes
————
Just the thought of protecting you makes Matt so happy and giddy on the inside.
Okay but yes, so you’re at the office and suddenly the power goes out. You’re like
“What the hell? Now I can’t microwave my burrito.”
Lmao and foggy is also pissed bc now he can’t play the google dinosaur game on his computer. Karen is pissed bc she can’t read articles she was reading for research and Matt is just like 🧍🏻♂️🧍🏻♂️ tryna figure out what was the source of the power outage
You’re trying to walk into Matt’s office bc you’re lowk scared of the dark lol. You keep running into things (same), but then you hear this like, crash right down the hall. That’s when you reach out for Matt’s hand.
“Matt? Matt? Where are you?” You ask, your voice shaking with fear.
“I-I’m right here.” He walks over to you no problem and you immediately slip your hand into his. You wrap your arms around his arm, hugging him close. “Sorry. I’m kind of afraid of the dark.”
Ugh and as cute as you are rn, he’s freaking the hell out. He’s like pretty girl is holding my hand. Pretty girl is holding my hand. PRETTY GIRL IS HOLDING MY HAND!!!!!!!!!!
Omg and since you’re so close to him, he can smell your perfume and shampoo which also drive him insane. And your hand fits perfectly with his and your skin is so soft and warm. He just wants to hold you and try to ease your anxiety.
UGH but he also is freaking out bc you wanted to be protected by him. Like out of all people, him. And you don’t even know abt him enhanced abilities and martial arts background, so it’s even more of a surprise to him. But ahhh he’s literally screaming into the void in his mind bc he can’t believe you feel safe with him. Like literallt that’s all he ever wants if for you to feel safe and protected, and if he gives you that feeling, then he doesn’t need anything else in this world
summary:dating the devil of hell’s kitchen has it’s ups and downs, especially since you’ve got the power to heal your boyfriend who insists on going out night after night to keep your city safe. you’ve seen each other through dark times but nothing can prepare you both when your body reaches its breaking point. trigger warnings for illness, injury care and a guest appearance from matt murdock’s catholic guilt
You had seen Frank in bad shape before, but nothing compared to this. When your boyfriend stumbled into your apartment last night, you could barely see a single part of him not drenched in blood. A lot of it was his but most of it was not. You had done your best to help clean him off, patch him up, and ease his pain but you were not an expert when it came to knife wounds and gunshots. All things considered, you thought you had done a pretty decent job.
Yet a few hours after he showed up, he began to develop a fever. You weren’t sure if it was an infection from his wounds, his system just off-kilter from all the blood loss, or if the weapons had been laced with something. But whatever the reason, he was soon suffering from more than just external wounds.
You didn’t know what had happened, however, it must have been big, but you knew better than to ask. When he had first revealed to you that he was The Punisher, the two of you decided that he wouldn’t talk about what he did or who he went after. But you had seen enough news reports lately to get an idea of what he was up to. And you should have known that taking on one of the city’s most notorious crime families by himself would result in something like this.
His fever was currently at 103.2˚F and didn’t seem to be coming down anytime soon. As he lay in bed, constant shivers raced up and down his large frame while a thick sheen of sweat covered his body. You placed cold compresses on his forehead and covered him with blankets, but nothing seemed to help. He slowly slipped into unconsciousness and nothing you did could rouse him. So, you did the only other thing you could do. You just held his hand and prayed.
After a few hours, you noticed he was bleeding through one of the bandages you had applied to his side. As you began to change the dressing, Frank suddenly grabbed your wrist. Your head snapped to his now open eyes, which were clouded and slightly unfocused, yet it seemed as if his gaze was boring into you.
“Hey,” you said softly, running your free hand across his face as a smile spread across yours. “It’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling? Your fever still hasn’t broken but the fact you’re conscious is a good sign.”
However, he didn’t answer. He just continued to stare at you, his deep brown eyes full of some emotion you couldn’t place.
“Frank?” you asked hesitantly.
“Maria….” The name passed his lips like a prayer.
Your blood ran cold and your heart tore in two. Frank had told you about his wife before. How they had met, about their two kids, about how all three of them had been murdered which led him to become the Punisher. You knew that he still grieved them all and blamed himself for their deaths. Yet the fact he seemed to be seeing you as her hurt more than it probably should.
“Maria, I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered as he grazed his fingers across your skin.
As kindly as you could, you said, “Frank…. I’m sorry, but I’m not her. It’s just the fever. Maria’s gone.”
But he didn’t seem to hear or understand you. He simply reached up, grabbed your face between his hands, and pulled you down until your forehead rested on his. You tried to struggle free, but even in his injured state, you were no match for Frank Castle’s brute strength.
As you watched his tongue run lazily across his lips, you knew what was about to happen. “Frank, don’t do this. I’m not Maria. It’s me, ok? I know the fever has you all confused and probably a little delirious right now, but you don’t want to do this. Not like this.”
But before you could stop him, he pulled you down, crushing your lips into his. You tried to pull away at first, but after a few seconds, you stopped struggling. The kiss was unlike any you had ever experienced before. There was a fire, a passion, an intensity that had never been there when he kissed you in the past. It felt as if he were trying to devour your very soul. And even as your brain screamed at you this was wrong, your body wouldn’t let you fight it.
You sank into his embrace, your tongue slipping past his lips as he drew you closer into him. His skin burned to the touch with fever, and you felt his blood seeping into your shirt where you hadn’t finished changing his bandage on his side, but you didn’t care. You had never felt this desired, this loved before in your life, and you never wanted it to end.
But eventually, you both had to separate to catch your breath. Frank wrapped his arms around you as you laid your head gently on his heaving chest, eyes closed in bliss. That was until he whispered, “Maria….”
You had known that kiss wasn’t for you, but hearing her name right afterward felt like he had stabbed you through the heart. You fell backward, wrenching yourself from Frank’s grasp as a shuddering sob tore from your lips. He reached out for you, his face confused, and he called out to her again. You knew it wasn’t his fault, that the fever was playing tricks on his mind, but every time he said her name, the blade in your heart was driven deeper. It was one thing to fear you would never live up to another, it was a completely different feeling to get confirmation of that fact.
You turned to flee the room, overcome with the wave of feelings that were flooding through you: pain, guilt, betrayal, shame, heartbreak. But just as you reached the door, Frank called out anxiously as he struggled to sit up, resulting in loud grunts of pain, “Please…. don’t go. I can’t… I can’t lose you again. Stay with me, baby.”
Baby. You were never baby. It was always sweetheart. You wanted to run sobbing from the room. You wanted to curl up into a ball and cry yourself to sleep. You wanted to get as far away from Frank as possible at that moment. Yet, you knew he needed you. He was still severely injured and battling his fever, and if this was what he needed to fight through it, so be it.
Cautiously, you returned to the bed and Frank settled back down. Then, steeling yourself with a deep breath, you lay down next to him. One of his arms immediately wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest. As he began whispering words of love and affection to another woman’s name, you bit your lip to keep from bursting into tears. Soon the taste of iron filled your mouth, but you just bit down harder, ignoring it and the pain it brought. Right now, focusing on that pain was the only thing helping you maintain even the smallest trace of control. After about ten minutes, you heard Frank finally grow silent and his grip around your waist loosened slightly. It was only then when you knew he was asleep, that you allowed your tears to fall.
You remained in bed with him for about twenty minutes once he fell asleep just to make sure not to wake him. Then, you slipped from his arms and ran sobbing into the bathroom. You knew he still loved his wife, but after almost two years of dating, you had just expected him to love you nearly as much. But that kiss told you otherwise.
The logical part of your brain tried to remind you that maybe the passion and fire in his kiss was from the fact he thought he had his dead wife back. That this was a goodbye kiss they never got or one that contained all his regret and heartache over what happened. But the emotional part of your brain couldn’t help but replay every moment, every caress, every whispered name. Whatever the reason, Frank had never been that vulnerable, had never shown you that level of affection before. And it was something you weren’t sure you could get past. But for now, you could suck it up and put on a brave face. Frank still needed you and no matter what you decided, you still loved him.
It was another hour or so before his fever finally broke, and he woke up for the second time. You were curled up in the chair in the corner of the room reading when you heard him starting to stir. You watched cautiously as his eyes flickered open and scanned the room. When they landed on you, he smiled. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Your lips twitch upward just slightly. “Hey, Frank. Good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
“Like I was shot and stabbed multiple times. The same as usual.” He grunted.
“Do you…. do you remember anything from last night?”
He thought for a moment then shook his head. “The last thing I remember was you patching me up. Then everything got fuzzy.”
“You were running a 103˚F fever all night. It got pretty bad. Shakes, sweats…. de-delusions. I was afraid you might not pull through.” You hoped he didn’t notice how you stumbled on the word “delusions”.
But luckily, he didn’t seem to pick up on that. “Huh. Well, I feel okay now. Maybe a little weaker than normal. But thank you for taking such good care of me.” He held out a hand, obviously wanting you to join him in bed. But you remained curled up in the chair. Slowly, he lowered it as he asked, “Everything alright? Did I do something I shouldn’t have last night?”
You tried swallowing the lump in your throat as you choked out, “No. It was just a long night. But I’m glad you’re doing better.” You stood up from the chair and started walking towards the door. “Why don’t I go make us some breakfast? Probably just toast or something for you at least until we see how you do with it. Or maybe cereal. Then I can always make something else. You know, if you’re still hungry. Or I can just wait and make a bigger lunch later. Still probably something a little bland because we don’t want to push it. But whichever you prefer.”
You both knew you tended to ramble when something was wrong. Frank studied you carefully, searching your face as he tried to decipher what it was. But you refused to look him in the eye. Not yet at least. You still needed time to sort through everything that had happened last night.
And as you opened the bedroom door, Frank called out, “Hey sweetheart, you know I love you, right?”
You managed to give him a small, sad smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I know you do, Frank. I know you do.” However, as you ducked out of the room, you couldn’t help adding to yourself, But you’ll never love me as much as you still love her.
A/N: heyyyy. I’m still on the Matt train. This can be read as a sequel to Bath time but it’s doesn’t have to. This is very self indulgent because I have these problems in my life and it’s a lesson I’m trying to learn so I’m hoping that if I imagine Matt saying it, it will sink into my brain. I hope you enjoy. sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.
Genre: fluff, angst
Warnings: fem!reader (she/her), soft Matt, not sure what else
Matt drew in slow and deep breaths as he tried to focus only on the sound and the feeling of the hot water pattering on his bruised skin. He didn’t want to think about anything else. For once, he just wanted to relax. He didn’t want to be aware of anything else other than what was happening in that moment.
He was so relaxed that he missed the front door opening and closing. He also missed the sound of footsteps approaching the bathroom. The sound of the door opening and closing. And the sound of clothes being discarded.
He did however hear the shower curtain being pulled back and he felt a presence behind him. It was a warm presence. A comforting presence. A pair of arms wrapped around his waist and a cheek pressed against his back.
“I thought you were going to be working late” he muttered.
“I was” she said “but I decided spending my night with you is a better use of my time”
“You didn’t have to come in the shower. I was going to get out in a bit” that was partly a lie. He didn’t have any plans to leave the shower anytime soon. “Is this payback from when I joined you in the bath?”
She laughed at his comment “no” she drew out “I know how much you love to save water and I needed one anyway after the day I’ve had”
Matt stood up straight and turned around. He brought his hands to her shoulders, tilting his head down a little. “What happened?” He asked her.
“It’s just been a long day. That’s all” she gave him a less than convincing smile even though he couldn’t see it. But he could hear in her voice that that wasn’t all.
“(Y/N)” he said in a lower voice “what is it? Is everything okay?”
She looked into his eyes. And just looked into the for a moment. She was trying to think of what to say. She didn’t want to lie to him. But she didn’t know if what she wanted to say would make him feel bad or not.
“(Y/N)” he said again “you can tell me anything. If it’s hurting you or upsetting you, I want you to get it off your chest”
She took in a deep breath and wrapped her arms carefully around him again and rested her cheek on his firm chest “I just feel so…awful” she admitted “I get so angry and upset about things that happen at work. Things that are insignificant. And I think about you. What you do both day and night. How resilient you are. How strong you are. How you don’t complain about any of it. I admire you so much. And it makes me feel so guilty to think about what you and so many others have to go through and here I am complaining that…I’ve got a meeting or a presentation to do. It all seems so pathetic in comparison to you…I just feel so useless and…pathetic”
“You are not pathetic” he said sternly “you are not useless either. You are so far from being anything like that. You are the most amazing person I know. You are the strongest person I know. You are the reason I am so resilient and strong. Having you in my life gives me a reason to keep going. To keep doing what I do. Because I want to make a world that is safe for you. I want to protect you. I want to create a world where we can have a beautiful and bright future together” he pressed a kiss to her head and pushed her away slightly so she could look back up at him.
“It’s okay to get angry or upset about things that happen to you. Don’t compare your problems to mine or anyone’s. If I had your job and your manager, I would probably complain a lot too. Your manager is a bitch and I hate her for always making you suffer. But I know you enjoy it. But the issues you have are relevant and angering to you. That’s what you have to remember. Yes, maybe me going out fighting bad guys is a little different and little harder than you having to go to a meeting, but the fact is, that’s scary for you. That’s hard for you. And just because it’s different to me, doesn’t make it mean any less than it does. Your problems are hard for you the same as mine are hard for me. There is no shame in complaint about it. Don’t compare yourself to me. Or to anyone else. You are you. And I love you”
“Matty. I love you so much” she said, her voice was shaky and tears were falling down her cheeks. Matt pulled her back into his arms and held her tight.
“Tonight, let’s just not think about the outside world. Tonight I don’t want to think about anything else other than you. And I don’t want you to think about anything else other than me”
“I want that” she nodded “but you’re always on my mind anyway Matt. You’re the only reason I can make it through the day”
“You are for me too” he smiled and pressed another kiss to her head. “Heres the plan. We’re going to get you clean and de-stressed from today. Then we’re going to order pizza and stay in bed for the rest of the night”
Gwen : “So, I asked Miles, who asked his Foggy, and I think I know what’s happening to Murderdock."
Y/N : "Good… What ?"
Gwen : "Well… That’s his father’s… The day he died. The Nice Matt is always sad during that day. Well, that week actually. He doesn’t go to work, stay alone at home, cry in silence, and sometimes accept to go see his dad’s grave."
Y/N : "Hmm. And, so, the whole ‘I scream, destroy everything and hate everyone’ is our version of Matt mourning his father."
Gwen : "I guess. Murderdock is weird."
Y/N : "He’s not. I mean, yes, he is, but don’t say that, it’s mean."
Gwen : "Nice Foggy said to hug him. It helps."
Y/N : "Our Foggy is nice too."
Gwen : "Whatever."
*later*
Matt : ”… What are you doing ?”
Y/N : “I’m hugging you."
Matt : ”… Why ?“
Y/N : "You know why."
Matt : ”… I don’t need your fucking pity.“
Y/N : "I’m not pitying you. But I can stop if you want."
Earth 65 Soulmate AU - Kingpin Matt Murdock x secretary Y/N
Could we say that Matthew Murdock, The Devil, The Kingpin, Western Sun of the Hand, was in a relationship with his secretary ?
No.
Yes.
It was complicated.
There was something, no one could deny that. Mutual respect, even admiration, affection. Matt cared a lot about her. He loved her, at least as much as he was capable of loving, and certainly more than he loved himself.
And Y/N seemed to love him too.
They had never talked about it. They hadn’t used that word. It didn’t seem necessary. Actions were worth more than words.
They had fucked, several times. But that was not all.
Y/N was always there for him. She wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t judging him, though she knew perfectly well what he was doing when he wasn’t playing the nice blind lawyer. She kept all his secrets. She was obedient, but not stupid, or weak, or a liar.
It was the thing he loved the most about her, Y/N never lied to her. Even before she knew he could listen to hearts, she hadn’t tried to lie to him.
And all of this wasn’t just because she worked for him and was afraid of what he might do to her if she disappointed him.
When he asked her, she replied that he was coming before everything else, and before everyone else.
Even her soulmate.
It hadn’t pleased Matt at all when he found out she had find her soulmate. He had had many questions, and very few answers.
Yes, she knew who they were, they weren’t dead, and she loved them.
But she was not with them. At least, when he had asked her, she had said, without lying, that she was not with them.
And, again without lying, that she would choose Matt no matter what.
It was certainly the nicest thing someone could say. The greatest proof of love.
Matt was more important than her soulmate.
He could have been content with it, lived with it. But Matthew Murdock was a cautious man. He was curious too.
And terribly jealous.
"You really don’t want to give me a name, darling ?“
"That again.” Y/N sighed, concentrating on her computer, writing important emails to their clients. “No, why ?”
"I know you love them. I get it. And I promise again not to kill them, but… Do they know ?“
"Know what ?”
"For me. For us. Do they realize that you belong to me and that if they try to take you, they will be in deep trouble ? Because either they are really stupid, which seems unlikely since they were chosen by fate to be bound to you, or they have a great excuse for not having accepted you yet. I don’t see which one, but a very good excuse, which one day might not be valid anymore, and then they might try something, and it would be terrible. For them. And for you, because you will certainly be sad. For me, it would be fine.“
"It’s very kind of you to warn me, Mr. Murdock. You have nothing to worry about. I’m with you.”
"Hmm. A hint then. When did you two meet ? Before or after you started working for me ?“
"I have to finish this email, it’s important.”
She still avoided answering.
For the rest of the day, when he didn’t have work, Matt continued to circle around her desk, growling and resting his head on hers, to “mark his territory and assert his dominance” according to Y/N, who let him do it, not shaking once.
It was the same when he followed her home, not leaving her for a second as she cooked, ate, showered, then went to bed.
Playing with her didn’t work. Making her cum until she passes out either. Ignoring her would have been pointless. Matt didn’t want to threaten or hurt her.
But he wanted to know. After all this time, even though everything seemed to indicate that Y/N was his and that she wouldn’t leave, there was still some doubt. A possibility that his soulmate decide to come and take her from him.
Because even if she had sworn, and had meant what she said, Y/N could still change her mind. After all, she loved her soulmate. She had used that word about them.
Not knowing his enemy was driving him crazy. He couldn’t prepare.
Matt wondered if it would motivate her if he met his soulmate.
It wasn’t something he particularly needed. He had thought about it, like everyone else, when he was a child, but Stick, then the Hand, had made him understand that it wasn’t useful, that it was even a weakness.
Some could believe that Y/N was a weakness too… But it wasn’t the same.
He couldn’t explain why, but it wasn’t the same !
First he announced to his dear darling secretary that he wanted to find his soulmate, to see her reaction, and try to make her jealous.
It seemed to work, a bit. Her little heart beat faster, nervously, and she hesitated before answering him, saying it was a good thing. In her voice he could hear her wondering why, why when he already had her, and what did it mean, and what would happen if he found them.
The news did not please her at all. Which made Matt very happy.
But he decided not to be cruel.
"I think it’s better for me to know. So I don’t get caught off guard. But nothing’s going to happen between us, and I’ll make it clear. I’m even thinking of locking them up somewhere, and even let them die there.“
"Charming.”
"I could put your soulmate with them. Oh, they could end up together. It would be poetic ! An exchange, to rectify the mistake made by destiny. For that, I just need a name and an address.“
"Mister Murdock.” Y/N sighed, and he knew she was smiling slightly, finding him amusing.
Again, he didn’t get what he wanted. That didn’t stop him from insisting.
After all, it would really be a proof of love if she gave him her soulmate, if he found his, and together they got rid of them, proving once and for all that they didn’t care at all and that they were perfectly happy together.
Matt was totally ready to do it.
He was a bit upset that Y/N didn’t want to do the same.
"We’ll see when you find yours.“ she simply said once. "Then I will give you a name.”
"You swear ?“
"I swear.”
Calm heart. No lies.
It was progress, great progress. Matt accepted this, and actively searched for his soulmate.
It wasn’t as simple as he had hoped. The fact that he was blind didn’t help, but it was more about how to find the right person. They could be anywhere on Earth.
You could perfectly see your soulmate on video, watching them and ta-da, you would see colours. Then you had to run to find them, tell them the good news, and allow them to no longer see the world in black and grey in turn.
Matt could therefore make a video, post it and wait.
But that wouldn’t mean his soulmate would see it. Maybe they didn’t have internet access. Maybe they didn’t watch videos, or they wouldn’t be interested in his.
Maybe they were also blind. Oh God, that would be so boring.
Maybe they’d be afraid Matt wouldn’t believe them when they came to see him. Because Matt didn’t really know if he would feel anything upon meeting his soulmate.
According to studies, blind people unfortunately remained blind, they had to content themselves with taking the word of the person who claimed to be their soulmate. To avoid scams or bad jokes, the government had created a service that they could call, in order to verify that their soulmate could really see colours. That wasn’t a huge evidence, but it was a good sign.
He wasn’t going to say it on video, but Matt didn’t need that. He would know if someone was lying to him.
Some fools contacted him, claiming to be the one he was waiting for. No one ever saw them again.
Matt took his time with some of the less annoying ones. He mostly used them to try to make his dear Y/N a little nervous, even though he already knew they weren’t his soulmate. But he claimed not to have checked yet, presenting his secretary to them.
"Pleased to meet you.“ she would say, shaking her head. Lie.
"I still have to call the agency to check, but chances are that sweet Cathie is my soulmate. Oh, darling, can you imagine ? That would be wonderful.”
"My name is Karen, and… Darling ?“
"Yes yes, come on Cathie, I’ll show you my office.”
He heard Y/N chuckle as he closed the door behind him, while the idiot got annoyed, asking him what he was playing at.
It might have seemed mean to do it multiple times, but Matt wanted to check something.
Even though she wasn’t happy, Y/N didn’t seem worried. As if she too knew perfectly well that the impostors weren’t going to stay. Was it so obvious that Matt was joking ? That they weren’t good enough to be his soulmate ?
Or did she totally trust him when he said he would always prefer her ?
It made him a little ashamed, since he didn’t trust her that much. He didn’t like it.
Still, Y/N couldn’t be so serene, as she had no way of knowing that he hadn’t lied, or that he wasn’t going to like his soulmate.
And it wasn’t because she didn’t care, her heart was speaking for her.
There was something else.
"…When did you meet your soulmate ?“ he asked again as he lay in bed, his head resting on her shoulder.
"I already promised to tell you everything when you find yours.”
"Hmm. But you think I’ll never find them, do you ?“
"Never say never.”
"Why aren’t you with them if you love them ?“
"It’s complicated.”
"They don’t like you ? I can’t imagine that they don’t like you. Even if they’re already married, or if they’re having problems, or whatever, they should be with you. It’s absurd. It makes me want to kill them.“
"It’s not their fault.” Y/N sneered, stroking his hair. “I didn’t say anything.”
"Didn’t say anything ? Did you pass each other in the crowd and leave before you could talk to each other ?“
”…Something like that.“
It wasn’t quite true. Not entirely a lie.
So the soulmate didn’t know ? It seemed a bit unfair to them, but at least Matt could relax, they had no way of finding his Y/N.
Still, there was always the fact that she knew who they were, that she loved them, even if she hadn’t told them. Matt wondered why.
He was wondering…
"Was that before or after you started working for me ?”
"You asked me that before.“
"And you didn’t answer.”
"I… I don’t see what that would change.“
Lie.
Big lie. Her heart had made a masterful leap.
Matt didn’t really dare think about what that could mean. What if… No, it couldn’t be. That would be too beautiful. Too crazy. Too cruel of his darling.
"Is it…”
He felt Y/N freeze against him, before shaking a little. She knew what he was going to ask.
Was it him ? Since all this time ?
That would explain a lot. Little things, which he had sometimes found strange, and charming, without ever really paying attention to them. More important things too.
It would hurt him, and make him happy, and change everything without changing anything. Why hadn’t she said anything before if it was him ? Because he was her boss ? The Kingpin ?
Maybe. It made sense. Careful. Y/N was careful, and smart, and already his.
Matt licked his lips, hesitating to finish his question.
And if it wasn’t him, then what ? The possibility frightened him. A ’no’ would be definitive, and would make him as sad as angry. It would mean that even if she stayed with him, even if he killed them, someone, somewhere, had a claim on her.
But she had chosen him. She had said she had chosen him. It was enough. They didn’t need more.
"Is it true that if you had to choose between your soulmate and me, it would be me ?“
”… Yes, always.“ she replied confidently.
"Hmm. I think I love you.”
"I think I love you too.“
"More than them ?”
"At least as much.“
Matt growled and bit her neck, which made her laugh. Right away, she was totally relaxed, running her hands through his hair again and pulling him even closer to her.
In that moment, Matt decided that no matter what the universe had planned, Y/N was his soulmate, he didn’t need to check, she didn’t need to tell him, and nothing could separate them.
Story about a Dark Matt Murdock, future Kingpin, in College, and in love with a sweet oblivious Y/N.
"He’s a little devil. No, wait, the actual Devil.“
"Come on Franky Bear, he can’t be that bad. Plus he’s blind.”
"You can be blind and awful. He is, trust me ! A blind, very handsome, demon. With his friends, they won’t stop saying mean things to me. They call me Foghorn ! Foghorn !“
"Calm down Nelson.”
"I don’t want to come back to my room, never ! Can I stay with you ?“ begged Franklin, joining his hands like a prayer.
"Nope.” said Karen. “Ask Marci.”
"I would love to share my bed with you, but I’m not sure Y/N here would be pleased.“
"Why ?”
"Please Y/N, think.“
"Did you tell him you hated the nickname ? Maybe he’ll just stop using it if he knew it hurt you.”
"… Y/N, baby, Murdock knows, that’s the whole point. God, you’re too good for this world.“
Y/N didn’t believe she was too good, and she couldn’t believe that someone would be that mean. They only started college last month, and Franklin Nelson was a very nice guy, so certainly there were a misunderstanding somewhere.
Maybe this Matthew Murdock was a bit pissed because Franklin was too noisy during the night. That was not a reason to be rude, and they needed to talk about it like adults.
He would really be a devil if he refused to listen, and to stop this nonsense. But Franklin was too scared to even look at him in the eyes. As if Matthew would know and think it was disrespectful or something.
As Marci said, he was blind. It didn’t mean he was a saint, but maybe he was tired of be taken for someone fragile and he was playing bad guy.
Y/N was sure she just had to treat Matthew like the normal person he was and everything would be fine.
She couldn’t know that he was not at all a normal person. Almost no one knew, about his adoptive father, the Kingpin. About him having super senses and a ninja training. About his cruel tendencies. Matthew Murdock was certainly not a good guy, and maybe Nelson was not that far from the truth when he was calling him the Devil.
But Y/N couldn’t know. And so when she spotted him on the campus the next day, she directly went to him without any fear.
"Hello Matthew.”
"Hi ? Do I know you ?“ he said, putting on his most charming smile, not knowing if the girl would be a nuisance or a toy yet.
"My name is Y/N. I’m Franklin’s friend.”
"Franklin ?“
"Nelson. Your roommate ?”
"Oh. Him. Yes ? What can I do for you ?“
"Well… He told us that you were a bit… mean to him. Calling him names. I’m not saying he’s perfect, I know how he can be, but he’s a great guy, so… Could you stop, please ? With the names and all ?”
"Hmm. I guess I could. But what do I win ?“
"Win ?” asked Y/N, a bit surprised.
"Yes. I was having fun with my friends. What do I win ?“
"A new friend. Or new friends ? Franklin is very nice as I said, and you could come drink with us.”
"You’re for real now ?“ Matt could tell she was. She was not lying, her heart was very calm. It was weird. "Well, why not. But it’s not enough. As a future lawyer, I need to find a better agreement. Maybe a kiss.”
"A kiss ?“
"Yes.”
"Okay.“
Matthew was mostly joking. Testing the water, to see how she would react, what she would do. Not only she accepted without any hesitation, but she kissed him right away. On the cheek. On the fucking cheek. Who does that ? It was not everyday that he was offering someone to kiss him, men and women would kill for that, and she went for the cheek.
It was too fucking sweet. The girl was the sweetest thing he ever met.
"What ?”
Oh shit, he said it out loud ? Not good.
"I was not really thinking about this kind of kiss, but it was nice. Fine, we have a deal. I won’t annoy Foggy anymore. It was really for fun, I’m sorry he took it the wrong way.“
"Foggy ? It’s… cute. I guess he’ll like it better.”
"It suits him, he can’t escape it now.“
"Thank you Matthew. ”
"Please my dear, call me Matt.“
_______________________________
After that, Y/N didn’t see Matthew, or Matt as he insisted, that much. She was mostly pleased to learn that he was not messing with Franklin anymore.
But her friend was still suspicious about him. Saying he was creepy, with his smile and passive aggressive attitude. There was something about him, something dark. Same with the people he was hanging out with.
She met Elektra Natchios and Frank Castle first.
Not that she really wanted to, but they were talking with Foggy (they all started to use the nickname, Franklin even liking it a bit), and Y/N could tell that he was… nervous. Hoping for some help. So she went, as the good friend she was.
Foggy didn’t seem pleased. Well, he mostly seemed afraid for her. Maybe he wanted help, but he didn’t want her to be hurt because of him. He quickly explained that they were all waiting for Matt. Elektra didn’t say anything. When she asked Frank how he know Matt, he told her to ‘shup the fuck up, none of your fucking business’.
Matt arrived at this moment. He heard everything.
Very calmly, he put a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, a finger touching her neck, and he smiled.
Y/N understood a bit what Foggy met about the creepy smile at this moment.
"Elektra, Frank…. Frank, Frank, Frank. Let me introduce you to my very dear friend Y/N.”
"Ah…“ sighed Frank, who already knew what was going to happen to him.
"Honoured to meet you.” just said Elektra.
"Foggy, I’ll join you at the library later, I have something important to do first. Y/N, I hope to see you soon. Well, see, you know what I mean.“
The next day, Frank came to her with a broken nose and apologises. He told her he felt in the stairs, no need to worry. He deserved it in a way, he was acting stupid.
Her friends were right to say that Y/N was too pure for this world because he decided to believe it. She didn’t like the others possibilities and preferred to ignore this red flag.
As the next ones.
Like when she met Matt’s others friends.
This time, they came to her, or mostly to Foggy, again, who was sitting with Y/N, Karen and Marci in a pub. The poor guy almost hide under the table when the came in.
"Hey Foghorn !” screamed the woman of the band.
"Foggy. Matt told you to call me Foggy.“
"Yeah, whatever. He’s not here and we’re looking for him. Do you know where he is ?”
"No.“
"You’re sure ? Luke here would be happy to have a little chat with you outside to know if you are sure.”
"Hey, leave him alone !“ hissed Karen.”
"Stay out of it bitch. So, Foghorn ?“
"Please, don’t call him like that.” asked Y/N.
"Now listen to me, you little…“
"Wait !” said the last member of the group, a short guy with curly hair. “Wait wait, Jess ! Let’s ask for the ladies names first.”
"What the fuck are you talking about ?“
”Please !“ He was shaking a bit. "Hello ladies, I’m Danny. This is Luke, and this is Jessica. And you ?”
"Well, Danny.“ answered Foggy, to protect them again. "They are my friends, Marci, Karen, and Y/N.”
"… Fuck.“
"Jess, this is Matt’s girl.”
"I heard. Fuck.“
"We will leave you be.” said the big guy, Luke.
"Yeah ! Sorry about that ! Very sorry !“ said Danny, only looking at Y/N. "We didn’t know. Jess… She didn’t know, she’s sorry.”
"… Okay ?“
"Great !”
After they left, everyone tried to understand what just happened. Because clearly it was not normal. Foggy was mostly worried about this 'Matt’s girl’.
He explained that Matt asked him a lot of things about Y/N, a lot, he wanted to know everything. He wanted to know if they were more than friends. He was pleased to learnt that Foggy was seeing her as a little sister.
“Don’t worry, big bro, I don’t want to hurt her. Not at all. She’s a sweet angel, I’m just curious.”
Foggy hated this answer, but he decided to not think too much about it, since Matt was not often near Y/N. Maybe he was just a bit curious.
_________________________
Of course he couldn’t know that no matter where he was on the campus, Matt was always listening to her heartbeat. He was asking others to look after her. He was visiting her room when she was not here, or during the night.
If Foggy was a Foghorn, Marci was worst.
Yet Y/N was sleeping like a baby and he found it impressive. She really was an angel.
The first time he touched her face was when she was asleep. Matt took his sweet time, smiling like an idiot the whole time. He hated himself for that.
The next time, he asked her politely. He was asking it to a lot of people, to flirt or annoy them, but with her it was special. He already knew what she looked like, he didn’t need to touch her again. He just wanted to. Needed to.
Matthew Murdock never experimented love before.
Well, maybe with his parents, when they were still alive, but it was not the same type of love and he was too young to really remember. He didn’t even remember their faces. They both died because of this truck, leaving him blind and alone.
At least he got his super senses like that. Stick found him. Stupid, stupid Stick. He was only useful to train him, until he was killed and Matt tried to avenge him. He was ten. He was not strong enough. But he impressed the Kingpin, who decided to take him, teach him.
Raise him like a son. An heir.
His future was clear. He would be the next Kingpin. He didn’t really need to go to College or to find a job. But Matthew Murdock was clever. He was careful. He knew he couldn’t trust anyone around him. So he decided to become a lawyer. To act like a normal blind guy. And to be able to defend himself in court if it was needed. And if one day he was not good enough in front of a judge, he would have other way to win any trials.
Matt never loved his new father, who didn’t love him back. They were just using each other, nothing more. Business.
He didn’t love his 'friends’, only calling them like to avoid questions. They were more his associates, his bodyguards. Or his slaves sometimes.
He had some lovers, but it was nothing serious. He was bored.
Y/N was different. Matt couldn’t explain why. He loved having her around. Just be with her. Hear her heartbeat. Her voice. Her laugh. Smell her. Touch her.
She was his polar opposite, way too naive and nice. A true angel. A wonder.
A part of him wanted to destroy her, corrupt her. Another part wanted to protect her from everything, even himself.
It was weird. It was disturbing. It certainly was love.
Matt was not sure to appreciate the feeling. But he was sure of one thing : Y/N was his, and his only.
Foggy got the memo. He was only the 'big bro’ after all, and he was a clever little guy, he knew better. Karen and Marci were not real treats either.
All the poor souls who were stupid enough to come near her were taken care of.
The fool who put something in her drink during a party disappeared. Y/N wasn’t sure what happened to her. She didn’t remember much, only that she opened her eyes in a room she never saw. Matt was holding her, worried and caring, asking if she was hurt, if she needed some water. Promising that nobody will never hurt her ever again. He called her 'sweetheart’ several times and even cried a bit, but she didn’t say that to anyone.
To Foggy, Matt said later that his father took care of the man, making sure he was kicked out of college, then arrested by the police. He had connections. No need to talk about it any longer. No need to look for him.
Just in case, Elektra and Jessica were spending a lot of times near Y/N and Marci’s room, and when she was cornered by the Karen about it, Jess, being a bit drunk, spoke too much. Saying that Luke saw the dude. Matt was not here. Matt hated parties.
Luke helped her, bringing her to Matt, while Frank took care of the asshole.
"Wait, why not go to the infirmary ? Or the police ? Or here ?“ asked Karen.
"Who cares ?”
"I care ! We care ! I was not Murdock’s business !“
"Please K, it’s fine. Matt was very nice. I should thank them all.”
Not knowing anything of Matthew’s jealousy, Y/N indeed went to thank them, hugging them both. Then hugging Danny, who was also here, looking at her with a sad puppy face.
The three of them knew they were dead after that. Of course Matt discovered quickly, with his weird senses, that they touched her. They were certainly not saved only because they swore it was friendly, nothing else, despite having a soft spot for the lady.
No, it was mostly because Jessica took the blame to save their ass, as Danny saved hers once. They were even now.
Her argument was clever. Of course Matty’s girl, being the sweet bubble of love she was, was going to hug her saviours. But Matt was still her favourite at the end, she said he was 'nice’, she took his defence against her friends.
The Devil was pleased to hear that, even purring a bit. The boys saved their head, this time.
They were also saved the next time, when Y/N offered them home made Christmas cookies, only because she made some for everyone, and maybe just a little bit more for Matt.
She still had no idea how jealous he could be, it had nothing to do with it. She just started to like him. Like like him.
He knew, of course. Matt always knew everything. He could tell only by her little heart beating faster when he was talking to her. The most charming sound he ever heard. He wanted to hear it forever.
When he was a kid, Stick told him that having loved ones was a weakness. His father, despite being in love, said the same thing to him. Maybe they were right. People could try to reach him through Y/N. It would be necessary to protect her. Lock her in a bedroom sounded like a good idea.
But Matt knew her heartbeat would changed if he did that. She would hate him. Be scared. Suffer. That was not what he wanted. So she mustn’t find out what he was, what he was doing, ever.
He would be the nice, innocent, blind Matt Murdock, little lawyer, only for her. Great friend, best husband. And in the dark, the Kingpin, ruling the city, some part of the country, even of the world, as he ruled the college. Angel by day, Devil by night. Avoiding suspicious, at least from his dear Y/N. Only her opinion mattered at the end.
Not being that good, Y/N sometimes noticed weird things. She listened when Foggy and the others were afraid of her boyfriend. But Matty was so nice and charming, always listening…
“No need to deny it, Murdock. And don’t pout like this, it’s not my fault. You did this to yourself.”
For weeks now, Matthew Murdock had followed Y/N. Everywhere. He had followed her down the street, he had visited her at work, and he had waited at her place, continuing to treat her as if she were his.
No, worse, as if she were his cat.
When Y/N suggested he just find a new cat, a real cat, and not a cursed human or something, Matt growled, patting her gently on the head, saying ‘bad’, to punish her for her stupidity.
Then he started scratching the back of her neck again, asking her if she wanted some milk.
He also insisted on coming with her in the shower, and he had obviously decided that her bed belonged to him now.
At least he didn’t force her to crawl, it was better than nothing. Pet play could be fun, but Y/N absolutely didn’t want it with him.
Her relationship with the Kingpin was bizarre.
Now that she knew all his secrets and why he was like that, she understood a little better, she felt a bit sorry for him and she had to admit that she didn’t hate him. Not all the time.
He still managed to be nice, even if he was less nice than when she was a cat. It was certain that Matt was more comfortable with animals than with humans.
Well, there were still times when Murdock didn’t treat her like a cat. Especially when they were in bed. Anyway, Y/N hoped he wasn’t doing that sort of thing with animals.
She really had no idea what their 'relationship’, if you could call it a relationship, was.
Because she was still a journalist, who even though she wasn’t going to use what he told her, kept looking for a way to prove he was the Kingpin, and he was… well, he was the Kingpin, besides being a lot of dangerous and weird things.
So it didn’t really seem possible that they could get along. Not like when she was a little cat.
Obviously, he missed it a lot, since Matt had had the great idea to go get the artefact that had transformed her in the warehouse. He’d taken it home, presumably hoping to turn her into cat again, and that fool’s plan had backfired, as evidenced by the ginger, blind cat now standing in the middle of her living room.
"Do you realize that I don’t know how to help you at all ? And therefore that you’re going to stay like this for at least a week, if things go the way they did with me ?“
"Meow !”
"I’m warning you, I’m not going to call your friends, they might hurt me, thinking I’m lying, that I killed you and hid my body somewhere. Or they might take advantage of it to kill us both ! And don’t bother thinking about real love’s kiss. I don’t love you, and you kissed me all the time, it didn’t work.“
"Meeeeeee !”
"What ? I don’t understand what you want. If you’re trying to be intimidating, it’s not working, you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Don’t hiss at me, Mister !“
If she had been cruel, and had a death wish, Y/N would have kicked Matt out and she would have enjoyed her last week of freedom.
But she wasn’t cruel, and cat Matt was just too cute, so she took care of him, hoping he’d turn back to human soon.
She also tried to treat him as much as possible as if he were still human, so that he wouldn’t get offended. Which often happened, Matt taking on an annoyed look, which made him even more adorable. It was really hard.
There were also times when he himself forgot he wasn’t a cat. Y/N understood that, she remembered very well when she took advantage of the warmth of his chest, or when she adored his hand on her head.
If she purred loudly, Matt Murdock was a real engine, a purring machine. Probably because he really wasn’t used to being touched like that at all. Thinking about it, it was pretty sad.
For a few moments he was perfectly relaxed, then he seemed to remember who he was, he realized what was happening and he would bit her hand before jumping off her knees to go to sleep somewhere else.
As discreetly as possible, Y/N took pictures. She hoped he would never find out. He couldn’t see them anyway.
Until he turned back, there were a few calls on his phone. Some people wondered where the lawyer was. But it happened that Murdock disappeared without warning from time to time, so no one really panicked, and especially no one thought to look for him at Y/N’s.
It was still a relief when she woke up with a sleeping human Matt in her bed. Naked. Who held her firmly, preventing her from getting up.
He growled all morning, refusing to talk about what had happened, and making a little pout almost as adorable as when he was a cat.
At the same time, he continued to behave a bit like a cat, coming to lie down on the sofa, resting his head on her legs, waiting without saying a word for her to scratch his hair.
So he hadn’t totally hated the experience.
But between being a cat and having a cat, Matt seemed to have a preference.
Everything went perfectly fine for several days, things were back to normal, as normal as possible with a ninja mafia boss adept at strange magic who had decided that she belonged to him.
Y/N had thought that after the incident, he got rid of this cursed object.
"Ah. That’s much better.”
“What ? What’s much… But… No !” Y/N cried, opening her eyes, discovering that she had shrunk. But her cries, like her words, were meows.
"Darling, I’ve missed you so much.“
"Asshole ! Motherfucker ! Son of a bitch ! Murdock, I hate you !”
"Come back here. It’s my turn!“
"Your turn ?! You’re sick ! If you touch me, you’ll regret it !”
If anyone could have seen this scene of a blind man chasing a cat in an apartment, no doubt they would have found it funny and cute. It wasn’t, at all.
Of course, Matt eventually grabbed Y/N, and he wouldn’t let go, even when she bit his hand until he bled. He didn’t react, continuing to cuddle her, smiling, rubbing his face in her fur.
After a while, Y/N accepted her fate, she calmed down, enjoyed the caresses and gave him the purrs he wanted. Matt was very happy.
He didn’t let her go for a second, to enjoy his dear kitten as much as possible, taking her everywhere with him, to his work, in the street, and even to court.
Normally someone should have said something to him, but the judge seemed to like cats too. Or the judge liked Murdock. Or was scared of him.
Wasn’t that against the rules ? Because almost no one listened during the trial, too busy watching the animal sleeping in Murdock’s jacket, only her little head sticking out, which he nagged with a finger from time to time.
Y/N could have disrupted the trial if she wanted to, by meowing and jumping out of his shirt to run around, but she was too respectful of justice for that, even though she knew Matt would win no matter what.
Besides, she was tired and Murdock’s chest was warm. She snored a little, which made the jury laugh, and when she yawned, everyone was certain that the Devil’s client was saved.
Even though it wasn’t all that bad, Matt treated her like when he found her the first time, and even better, a bit like a little princess, and even though she knew she was soon to find her body, Y/N was still furious and she decided to take revenge, behaving totally like a princess.
A very capricious princess. Climbing up the shelves where he couldn’t reach her without having to use a chair. Sitting on his face when he slept. Peeing on his shoes. Biting the end of his cane.
But Matt found it all amusing. He didn’t scold her once, snickering and saying she was a little bratty darling. Shit.
When she becomes human again, he was sad and disappointed, pouting again. But he didn’t immediately try to change her into a cat.
"You’re not that bad like this either. I missed our conversations.“
"We never talk.”
"We could. Tell me about yourself, my kitten.“
Either it was a real step towards her, or it was a technique for Y/N to let her guard down and accept Murdock as her lord and master.
Remaining cautious, she agreed to lie down with him and they discussed for hours. He had already told her almost everything, and Y/N was sure that he had researched her for a long time. But it was fun.
Several weeks later, they still had this weird relationship, Murdock coming over to be hugged, or to cuddle her silently after a long day, not caring at all that she was still looking for proofs to send him to jail.
Well, Y/N was almost certain that she was still trying to send him to prison. That was what she repeated to herself as she kissed him again and again on the neck.
That was what she swore to herself when she found out that Matt still hadn’t thrown away that stupid magic thing, and they both woke up transformed into cats.
"Oh. Again ?”
"Murdock ! Why ?!“
"No idea. I didn’t do anything. Well, I just thought I missed being a cat. And hearing you little purrs. Then maybe I thought it would be fun that we are cats at the same time.”
"Why ?!“ she repeated, struggling, as he lay on top of her.
"I don’t know. To see. You smell good. I’m going to lick you now, so you smell like me.”
"No !“
"I wonder how it feels when two cats do it.”
"Do what ? You… NO !“
"Darling, stop moving. Alright, I’ll just wash you, I get it. We’ll do it when we’re human.”
"Okay. Uh, wait… No, not okay !“
"Too late. I know you’ve wanted it for a long time anyway, no need to deny it.”
Y/N continued to meow pathetically, unable to escape Matt who licked her head before falling asleep on top of her, purring. Again, she finally accepts her fate, purring along with him.
On the other hand, even if she couldn’t escape him, as soon as she could, she would destroy this stupid artefact for good !
Matt Murderdock, Kingpin, has a soft spot for cats. Too bad, this cat is not really a cat.
It was a bad idea.
Everyone told her this was a bad idea. Her boss, her co-workers, her friends, Spider Woman, the guy she’d passed on her way to the warehouse who had looked at her with a look that said ‘Poor darling, what are you doing here ? This really isn’t the place for you if you don’t want any problem, turn around and get out of here quickly’.
But no, Y/N was stubborn. She was a good journalist, the best, and if coming here would allow her to prove that Matthew Murdock was the Kingpin, then she would.
In fact, she already knew that the blind lawyer was the real Kingpin. Spider Woman, who sometimes helped her during investigations, and who she defended in her articles, had more or less confirmed it to her.
But before accusing someone, proof was needed.
Especially against someone like him.
Well, even with proof, she might have a lot of trouble, but those were the hazards of the job. If anything happened to her, it would only prove even more that she was right. And if the police weren’t totally useless, or corrupted, they would protect her.
Upon discovering that several abandoned buildings in the city belonged to Murdock, Y/N decided to take a look, to find out something. It wasn’t easy, there were a lot of weird people patrolling around, but she knew how to be stealthy and discreet. Like a cat.
The problem was that Y/N was also curious like a cat, and the adage was true, especially when she saw a strange, very beautiful object, which she suddenly wanted to touch.
Luckily, it hadn’t killed her. No, it had only made her shrink, or so she thought, until she tried to speak, and a pathetic mew escaped her mouth.
Now she really was a cat, and she was screwed.
Panicking, which was a perfectly normal reaction to what was happening to her, Y/N started running in all directions, overwhelmed by all the sounds, smells, lights. In her desperate race to find an exit, she caught the attention of several guards, who tried to grab her.
She found refuge under a desk in a tiny, dark room.
She had to think, she had to find a plan to get out of there, and become human again, if it was possible. Oh my God, she hoped it was possible !
For several hours, Y/N remained in her hiding place. She was cold, a little hungry, thirsty, and she was shaking with fear, but at least she was alive and her pursuers seemed to have forgotten about her. Well, that was what she believed.
"…no one, but we saw a cat.“
"A cat ?”
"Yes, Master. We don’t know where it is, it’s gone to hide somewhere.“
"Hmm. I see.”
That voice sounded familiar, and Y/N hesitated between having a heart attack and rolling her eyes when Matt Murdock walked into the room.
This fool loved to make jokes about his blindness. He couldn’t see anything at all. And at the same time, he seemed to have very good eyesight. Spider Woman had advised her to be very careful around him. He was dangerous.
So Y/N didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. The others hadn’t found her, so Murdock couldn’t either. He stood by the door, holding his cane with both hands, and flashing a small smile.
"Little cat, come here. I know you’re under the desk. Come.“
"Oh no, you’re dreaming Murdock.” she thought. “By the way, what cat ? There’s no cat here, go away.”
"I can hear you breathing. I hear your little heart racing, and your skin shaking with cold, and your stomach growling with hunger. Come on. You’ll have hot milk and maybe I’ll let you sleep in my bed. I don’t use it.“
”…He hears my heart ? What ?“
"I don’t have all day.” he growled dangerously, slamming his cane hard on the ground.
Y/N thought, very quickly. It was obvious that Murdock knew she was there, even if she didn’t understand how. It was also obvious that even if he was blind, he could catch her just fine, and it wouldn’t be pretty.
Her journalistic mind was curious again. If he brought her home, she could observe him, listen to compromising conversations, find out how he managed to hear hearts. Maybe she would also figure out how to become human again too, and then she would have everything to bring him down.
Slowly, not quite comfortable with this new body and small legs, Y/N got out from under the cabinet and approached Murdock. Not sure he knew she was there, she mewed weakly. This made him smile.
"A clever little cat. I’ll carry you. Scratch me, bite me, and you’re dead.“
"Noted.”
"Hmm. You’re frozen, little thing.“ he remarked, taking her in his arms.
He then opened his coat to slip her inside, against his chest, one hand holding her and the other stroking gently.
For a moment, Y/N forgot that she wasn’t really a cat, that she was in danger and that she was supposed to be gathering evidence against the Kingpin who was fiddling with her neck.
But it was sooooo goooooood !
She closed her eyes, what, a minute ? Anyway she thought it was only a minute, enjoying this warmth, and these caresses, and his smell, he smelled really nice… and when she opened her eyes again, she was already in a car, with Matt chuckling.
"You’re purring so loud, Cat. Not used of receiving affection ?”
No. Y/N lived alone. No lover, not for very long and never really serious. She didn’t have many friends and they didn’t touch each other. Her family wasn’t really tactile. She was a bit lonely, but didn’t think about it, focusing on her work.
"Me neither.“ Murdock continued, passing his hand over her head. "Or so I forgot.”
He then looked a little sad, slightly, his lips tightening and his face twisting into a grimace, then he regained his composure, continuing to caress her until they got to his place. Weird. He had forgotten ?
Matt Murdock’s apartment was as big as it was empty. Almost no decoration or furniture. No picture.
If he kept compromising things, he had hidden them well. Y/N had checked, several times, exploring all the rooms, climbing everywhere and slipping under all the tables, desks, bed.
Murdock seemed to find this amusing.
He followed her, smiling, even opening some doors for her to explore. He was answering some of the questions she seemed to be asking, like 'why are the sheets silk’, 'why are there mirrors when he doesn’t use them’, and all the other odd little details.
If he really was the Kingpin, and a murderer, and an asshole, Matt Murdock was obviously very kind to animals. Anyway, he was kind with her.
Every day he checked that she had food and milk. He didn’t get mad if she put it all over the place. It wasn’t her fault, Y/N wasn’t used to lapping. Matt just thought it was adorable, laughing and saying that she was a messy little thing.
It was the first time that Y/N had heard him laugh. Well, she had listened to interviews where he laughed, but not like that. It was sweeter. More sincere. He also had a beautiful smile. Almost adorable.
He was touching her all the time. As soon as he got home from work, he would look for her, take her in his arms, and keep her close to him for hours, often without saying anything, while sitting on the sofa or working at his desk. With a distracted hand, he caressed her, making her purr and this sound, in addition to the vibrations on his chest, seemed to soothe him.
He wasn’t offended the few times Y/N was so relaxed and comfortable that she dug in her claws affectionately, ruining his shirt.
Sometimes Matt would talk to her. About his work. About him. His childhood, the accident, his parents, Stick, the Hand, the training in Japan, the assassinations, the Kingpin.
Everything.
He told her everything.
Taking off his red glasses, his empty eyes seemed filled with grief though, and he looked so fragile, as he continued to talk, touching her little head, with his killer hands that could snap her neck in a second.
But he was not violent with her. Not once did he hurt her. He didn’t scream either.
He smiled when she started banging her head against his neck before licking his chin, purring loudly, and he seemed to forget about all those things that tormented him. It made him happy. It was obviously the only thing that made him a little happy.
All of this made Y/N forget a bit about what she was there for in the first place. Find evidence to send him to prison, and also a way to become human again.
It was hard to remember that she wasn’t a cat. This life was so nice. She liked that. When she forgot who he was, what he had done, knowing what he had been through, Y/N only saw Matt, kind and affectionate, who took good care of her, and she wanted to make him happy, as much as possible.
"You are a sweet cat. My sweet cat.“ he whispered as he fell asleep, holding her close, after a long day of defending guilty people and killing innocent ones
Yes. Stay with me, stop all this bullshit and let’s go live by the sea together.”
Of course, that was not possible.
And of course, things couldn’t stay as they were, and one day, without knowing why or how, Y/N became human again.
This happened while Murdock was away, which gave her time to panic, find some clothes, and a way to escape the building before he returned, trying to avoid the surveillance cameras.
After all, maybe he would never know she had been there. He didn’t have her name. Nor her face.
Well, he had her scent. After more than a week of living with him, and everything he had revealed to her, Y/N had understood that Matt Murdock was a ninja with the smell and hearing of a radioactive dog, mixed with the sonar, intelligence and cruelty of a dolphin. Because yes, dolphins were little assholes.
So he was bound to feel that someone unknown had been in his place. And had taken his clothes. And anyway, he would notice that his cat was no longer there.
He would certainly be furious. Maybe a little sad ? But it was just a cat, he could find another one, and Y/N hadn’t taken anything important, and he wasn’t going to be able to track her down by sniffing the air to her home, right ?
"You will tell me what you want, and where my cat is.“
Ah, fuck, he could. Two days later, in the middle of the night, he was on top of her, in her bed, a blade against her neck, looking very displeased, waiting for her to tell him the truth, and ready to kill her if she lied or answered something he didn’t like.
"I… I’m sorry.” she squealed, trying to stay calm.
"It’s too late for apologies, you should have thought of that before, little journalist. Where’s my cat ? You think you can use it against me ? You idiot. I’m going to make you scream until you tell me where you put it, then I’ll get it back, and I’ll bring it home. If my cat’s hurt, you’ll pay. If it’s dead…“
"It’s… It’s me ! I’m the cat. Sorry.”
The knife left her neck, and for a moment Matt Murdock was very quiet, his face unreadable. It was worst, in a way.
Y/N lost her calm. She told him everything, the warehouse, the weird magical thing that had turned her, she swore it wasn’t on purpose, that she wasn’t going to use what he told her, that she wouldn’t do it again, and please, please, she didn’t want to die.
Murdock’s hand replaced the weapon, which startled her. He pressed a little, before starting to move his fingers, kneading her skin. By reflex, Y/N closed her eyes, trying not to cry, totally frightened.
Then it reminded her of when she was a cat and he was petting her. It wasn’t as nice, but it was good. One last time, before the end. Without realizing it, she relaxed a bit, concentrating on that hand, the feel, Matt’s chuckle.
Wait, chuckle ?
Opening her eyes, she saw his smile, the smile he had when she was wrapped around his chest.
"You’re still purring so much.“ he remarked, continuing to touch her.
He brought his face closer, his nose touching her cheek as he sniffed her. It didn’t seem possible that she smelled totally like when she was a cat, but his sense of smell was above average. And she must have smelled like him, too, after spending so much time in his house, on him, and wearing his clothes.
"You are still purring.” he repeated, putting his lips close to hers. “And you are still mine.”
Warnings: rated E for Explicit content (18+ only, minors DNI), female reader, written in the third person, she/her pronouns, menstruation/period sex, vaginal fingering, smut, a whole lot of Catholic guilt and some profanities. Keep scrolling if this is not your thing, no big deal<3
Word Count: 2.3k+
A/N: my thank you gift to @letterfromvienna for singlehandedly dragging me back into the Matt Murdock pit and letting me go off on my self-projecting Matt character analysis<3 ily sm. also a thousand thanks to @frannyzooey for easing my nerves and helping me to write this and make it better with her incredible craft, she herself wrote a couple sentences of this even tho she has never read for Matt Murdock. ily sm too<3
He can smell it the moment it begins, but has never dared to say a single word before.
The first time he did it was a complete accident, caused by his too sharp hearing alarming him of cries of pain coming from her apartment across the hall.
Matt nearly broke in without permission at the sound, but gathered just enough composure to remember she’d given him a key just a couple days before. When he allowed himself in, he found her curled up in her favorite loveseat, the one she liked to cuddle him in until the day was gone.
It didn’t take long for him to realize she wasn’t in any danger, and even less for him to know what was really going on. A metallic yet strangely sweet smell lingered in the air around her, making him take one deep breath, and then another just to be certain.
His cheeks went pink and warm at how creepy that was, and couldn’t stop how much worse it got once the previous panic completely dissipated from his senses, leaving behind nothing but the pure smell of her. Filling his senses with such an overwhelming want.
The want of nothing else at that moment but to bury herself in her, feel the warmth and wetness between her thighs in any way or another, and stay there as long as she let him.
But instead of giving into that almost primal need, he offered some painkillers and takeout. The relationship still too fresh, and him still too shy to ask what he needed.
Even now, Matt rarely asks for anything.
It’s not like he settles, but he’s just thankful for everything and whatever she gives him, which he feels it’s always a lot. Sometimes, he even thinks he might be getting too much.
Too much time, patience, consideration, tolerance, encouragement. Too much love.
So he gives, sometimes takes, but mostly gives, and gives, and gives.
Now though, it's time to take. It’s time for him to do exactly what he wants, to get what he’s been craving for months. Because every time that sweet, rusty, clamant smell makes its appearance once a month, he’s been good. He’s kept his hands to himself and has waited for her to be more open about how she likes to handle it when it comes and to feel more comfortable like this around him.
He could hear both his and her heart nearly beating out of their chests as he asked, the words heavy on his tongue. Something new that neither of them have ever done before, but still she accepted. Always willing, always loving.
That is how he finally got here. On his knees at the edge of her bed, between her smooth, freshly showered legs (per her request), breathing in the flowery smell of her arousal as she waits for him to make his move.
He already took his time kissing her until she went dizzy, carefully dipping his fingers into her cunt, just enough to calm her nerves and reassure her of how much he wants this. After she was as sure as he is, he wiped his fingers clean with his tongue, just a taste of what’s to come as he traveled down her naked body with gentle kisses.
Matt removes the zippered hoodie he’s wearing, the one she likes to steal and sleep in, and places it near the bed to get it when she asks for it later in the night. He licks his lips and swallows hard, the scent of her picking up as he comes closer. His cock already responding to his own excitement.
He alternates between kissing and biting her thighs as he approaches, his hands find themselves just above her knees, and trail up to her hips where his fingers dig into her skin in anticipation. Matt pauses one more time, just an inch away from her cunt, and lets out an almost nervous breath in the middle of her legs, causing her to whine and tremble. And that is enough for him to finally put his mouth on her.
The first taste is everything he’s been dreaming of and more. The mix of her slick and blood overwhelms all of his senses. His eyes nearly roll back as he takes a deep inhale, his tongue relentless as he finds himself wanting to drown in this.
The tip of his hard cock barely brushes the mattress as his hips involuntarily jerk against it. But this is not about him right now, knowing it would be greedy to seek his own release when he’s just getting what he wants. His knees are starting to burn because of how hard he’s trying to keep himself from moving, a small price to pay for his avarice.
The pain makes him moan against her, as he keeps savoring every taste and scent she gives him in that moment. Her hands move down to reach for his head, where she starts to run her fingers through his hair in a soothing motion, encouraging him to keep going, to keep taking.
Even when he’s taking it feels like a gift she’s allowing him to have, and all he wants to do is thank her for the guilt she so easily removes from his shoulders.
Matt can do nothing once he realizes he’s getting lost, any sliver of self-control out the fucking window when he finally zones out the sound of his heart drumming in his ears and listens to her moans echoing the room.
“Jesus Christ, Matt.” He listens to her breathless profanities, which he would laugh and make a quick quip at if his brain wasn’t completely shut down to anything but eating her out.
It only encourages to keep going, needy, messy and almost animalistic. Burying his tongue as deep as he can inside of her, his fingers surely bruising her skin as he holds her hips down against the mattress, as if attempting to lock her down in place even though she’s clearly not going anywhere.
Suddenly, he allows himself a moment to think, and wonders if this is what she tastes when she fervently kisses him after a long night of playing the Devil. When his lower lip is busted, and mouth is full of blood and spit. Whether it is the case or not, Matt figures it's only fair to keep returning the favor just as eagerly.
One of his hands finally lets go of her hip, and puts two of his fingers knuckle deep into her cunt while he focuses his mouth on her clit, pumping the digits in and out as she instructs him exactly how she wants it in that moment.
Just like that, fuck. Keep going, don’t stop. Don’t you dare fucking stop. The words spill out of her mouth as both a demand and a prayer, making him feel absolutely delirious, a sense of pride building up from the middle of his chest and immediately going up to his head.
His knees are dragging closer to the mattress as his cock looks for some release, knowing he’d feel ashamed about it if he wasn’t so fucked out of his mind right now. Matt’s hand drops from her hip to between his legs to palm himself over his sweatpants, and immediately shoves it inside to grab his weeping cock, stroking it just slowly enough to keep himself from cumming before she can.
He’s not entirely sure how long this has gone, but just as he wishes it could go on all night, he feels her hands, previously scratching his scalp, now pulling his head back. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum. Please, Matt. Just—” He knows she wants him to pull away, her skin burning as her orgasm builds up and her legs tremble around him, her heart rate picking up second by second. But he doesn’t move, instead he goes in deeper, eating her out like it’s the last time he’s gonna get to do this.
“I know baby, I know. I got you.” He manages to stop himself just enough to say in a breathless whisper, immediately burying his face in her cunt once again.
His name is the last thing she says before her orgasm comes down crashing, her hands gripping his hair for dear life as she comes undone all over his face. Her moans are like a symphony to his ears, one he could keep listening till the sun burns out and everyone else is left in the dark like he has been his entire life.
But not right now. Right now as he falls back on his heels, with his nose, lips and chin covered in her blood, knees aching and surely now matching the bruises on her hips, Matt lets his head fall back as he takes a trembling breath, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling, and swears he see a light in his mind's eye.
A thank you slips from his mouth as she comes down from her high, and hears her barely managing to scoff a short laugh. Ever the gentleman, she teases in a breathless sigh.
He barely thinks of himself as one in his daily life, let alone in this moment, with his face covered in her, his skin smelling of hers, and his cock dripping at the tip and pulsing. All reminders of him sinning with lust.
Matt knows this should be enough, he just drank straight from the source, God’s divine essence sliding down his throat and he’s gonna come almost untouched, but almost curls over when he grabs himself but a deeper, greedier, ravenous part of him that had been dormant until now can’t have it be over just yet, even though he just got exactly what he wanted. He needs more and he hates himself for it, his stomach tightening when his fist starts dragging up and down his erection once more.
“Sweetheart…” He manages to say, pulling himself up from his knees, quickly climbing up the bed to place himself above her. “I need to fuck you like this,” the words fall from his lips like a confession, like he’s almost ashamed of it.
“What the hell are you waiting for, then?” She says almost immediately, lifting her hips to find his erection midway, and throwing one leg over him to pull him closer. So he wastes no time burying his cock inside of her, her cunt warm and welcoming, so fucking wet from how hard she came thanks to just his tongue and fingers.
Matt crawls over her body once he’s inside, one of his hands on the crown of her head, the other on her hips as he starts rocking his as gently as he can, knowing how sensitive and overstimulated she is by how she trembles under him.
“Oh my fucking— Christ.” He hears his own voice say, but is too busy taking this moment in to chastise himself over it.
He’s not sure he’s gonna last long, not with her cries of pleasure so much closer to his ear, and the smell of their sex all around the air, and his cock snug, throbbing and covered in all of her, going in and out so hard and deep he think he’s gonna break her.
Fuck me deeper, harder. I’m yours, baby. I’m all yours. I’m yours. The groan that leaves his chest is loud and guttural when he hears her pledging herself to him, it reverberates against the walls of the room, followed by the loud snaps of his hips against hers.
“No—” He pulls himself almost all the way out, relishing her tiny whine at the sudden near emptiness, and fills her back up at a slow pace. “It’s— fuck. It’s me that’s yours.” Matt breathlessly says, pressing his forehead against hers, his eyes wide open as he wishes, for the first time in a long time, he could truly see her, even for just a moment.
All he can feel and hear and smell has always been enough, but not this time.
She throws her arms around his neck, choking back a soft cry that he can’t quite tell if it’s from pleasure or something else, and kisses him hard and deep, tasting herself on his tongue. “I love you… I love you so— so fucking much.” She whimpers between moans, trying hard to catch her breath.
Matt’s face drops to the crook of her neck when he feels tears welling up, her chest almost aching as his heart pounds against it, still not used to being loved like this.
I love you more than life itself. Goes unsaid by him.
His mind goes blank as he spills himself inside her, the hand on her hip slithering behind her waist and pulling her body towards him in a desperate attempt to bring her even closer. As if she knows exactly what he needs, she keeps her arms around him and presses her chest to his, the skin to skin contact making him sigh in relief.
After they come back from their shared high, he delicately lays her back on the mattress and just as gently, lets himself fall on top of her. Matt burrows his face on her chest, seeking the sound of her heartbeat and warmth of her body to deal with how sensitive and overstimulated he feels. He breathes in the scent of them lingering in the air around the room, and places a soft kiss on her breast, a silent way of thanking her once again.
Maybe later, when he’s washing the sheets and cleaning the blood, sweat and slick off their bodies, he’ll feel the shame of finally asking for what he’s always wanted. For consuming it so freely with such a feral drive. For letting that dark, greedy, lustful part of him take over the reins of himself. For giving into his innermost desires, and taking and taking and taking—
But that will come later. Or maybe it won’t.
He can’t bring himself to care, not while he rests upon her breast and everything she has left to give lulls him to sleep.
A/N : Matt comes with his own warnings tbh. I typically name fics after songs, song titles, or lines from a song that spark an idea for me, so ill be making an ask post of the ones I have swirling around in my head soon. :) Thank you @matt-erialgirl for my first request. <3
It had been a trap, a trap you both saw coming, but a trap nonetheless. Neither you nor The Devil of Hell's Kitchen had anticipated the magnitude of what waited for you both.
Things had gone sideways, very quickly. You remembered Matt teasing you, trying to get you to loosen up and calm your nerves. You had not been scared, but taking down a human trafficking ring was too important of a task to fuck up.
"You know I always know when you lie, so why bother?" he had scoffed, a grin playing across his lips.
"I'm not scared, I'm anxious. This is the closest we've gotten in days. It is too critical of a lead for me to -"
Your words had faltered with the perception of Matt moving closer to you, the back of his hands lightly grazing the side of your forearm. His head tilted slightly as he gave you a reassuring smile.
"You are going to be fine. We are going to stop this. We wouldn't be this far without the information you have, I have to admit I was stuck."
A light flush spread across your face, thankfully hidden by your own mask, opposite of his own. Matts covered the upper half of his, yours covering the bottom half. Two halves.
"Can I get that in writing, counselor?"
"We'll even get it notarized if you wa- "
Matts head had jerked to the side suddenly, listening.
"There's....way more than I heard initially. " he swallowed, his tongue flicking out to taste the air.
He heard your pulse increase at the realization sunk in.
"How... how many?" you whispered, trying desperately to regulate your breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth.
"Thirty, maybe forty. You ready? We have about sixty seconds. There isn't time to run now." Matt cursed under his breath, scolding himself for not hearing them sooner. He had been...distracted by you.
When you were anxious, your body temperature increased, making the scent of the perfumed oil you wore more intense. He had asked that you wore it on excursions so that he could always find you. You made it yourself, so there would be no mistaking the scent on someone else. Orchid petals, patchouli, and sandalwood ; the ratio unique and precise. What he hadn't realized is that when he had asked this of you, the scent had faded enough that it did not have the same effect as it did now. It mixed with your natural body chemistry so well, intertwining and intoxicating to his heightened senses.
You shook your head, almost involuntarily, bouncing on the balls of your feet to try and shake off your nerves.
"Matt if we don't make it out of here, I'm sorry. "
He had said something in protest, but you did not have time to even register what it was when a knife had shot through the air, Matt catching it just centimeters from your chest.
Matt woke up on the couch in his apartment, bloody, incredibly sore, and... stitched and bandaged up. Where were you? He gritted his teeth, feeling the burn in his side as he sat up. The hand that lay on his leg fell to the floor with a thump. You were on the floor, your hand had remained on him in a stubborn attempt to stay conscious.
You were on the floor.
Matt moved as carefully and quickly as he could to get to you. He could hear your pulse, steady, but slow. He could smell the blood that was dried to your skin, and the blood that was still wet underneath you. How long had you been on the floor? Matt carefully rolled you over, cradling your head in his lap.
"Sweetheart, can you hear me?" he asked, a quiet panic overtaking him.
Matt couldn't lose you. Not you too. God, he couldn't have anything could he? He placed his hand gently on the side of your cheek, stroking his thumb softly on your skin. Your eyelids fluttered and then opened, taking in a shuttered breath as you looked up at Matt. In the early morning light, he looked way worse than you remembered. Cuts and bruised littered his face, chest, and shoulders. Your eyes stung with tears as you took in the sight. Even bruised and covered in blood, the man was a masterpiece. This was your fault.
"Matty, you're okay." you whispered, your voice quiet. You reached up to touch him, wanting to confirm that this was real. The moment your hand caressed his face you gasped in pain, the motion just a stretch too far for your injuries.
Matthew let out a sigh of relief, you were coherent at least.
"Why did you do that? Why did you get in the way?" he asked, the fear of losing you pushing its way up his throat. You had gotten in the way to protect him. He wasn't worth that. This was too close, too similar to how he had lost Elektra. He could not, would not do that again.
"How did we even get back here? " He couldn't remember anything after he was knocked out.
You chuckled, trying to smile through the pain it caused. You could hear the terror in Matts voice, regardless of how he tried to hide it.
"I carried you back, Matt. You tried to get me to put you down a couple times, but I knew you were more hurt than I was. I know that because you didn't even fight me."
He drug his bottom lip into his mouth, lowering his head. He released it with a sigh.
"Let's get you cleaned up. Can you stand?"
You nodded, and then felt foolish.
"I think I can. Where do you want me? "
"The bed would be more comfortable for you, but the couch is closer."
You raised an eye brow, the thought of you in Matts bed for...any reason was enough to make you blush. He helped you sit up, you wincing all the while. Using your arm that was less injured to push yourself up and off the floor, you stood. Matt was on standby to catch you if you fell. Your legs shook and you barely made in onto the cushion.
"Ill be right back, take off your shirt so I can stitch you up."
You watched as he retreated to the bathroom to gather what he needed. You were surprised you even had energy to put everything back last night. You heard the faucet turn on and run for a minute, no doubt to warm it up. As you suspected, Matt came back with the medical kit you insisted he put together and a warm wash cloth.
"You know, if you wanted to see me with my shirt off, all you had to do was ask. " you said, trying to keep your mind off the needle matt was desperately trying to thread. You heard him exhale hard in frustration. You reached out and touched his wrist lightly, ceasing his attempt.
"Let me. It's the least I can do since this is my fault anyway. "
"It's...not your fault, sweetheart."
There it was again. Matt only called you that when the sarcasm and seriousness fell away. He was your best friend, and you almost got him killed. You turned your gaze to the floor and continued to try and thread the needle. Finally you got it and tied it off, handing it back to him. He turned to set it down on the gauze he had placed out on the coffee table, he still needed to feel your injuries and clean them before sewing them up.
"I'm sorry in advance, I know this isn't going to feel pleasant. "
"Always the victim of Catholic guilt Matthew. " you thought while verbally assuring him that you would be fine and he could do what he needed.
"Just try not to move if you can okay? Can you do that for me?"
You agreed, and held as still as you could. Matt started at the top of your head and worked his way down with his hands. Brushing lightly over your face to feel if there was just blood, or a wound that needed tending to. There was a small cut through your right eyebrow, but nothing serious. You hissed through your teeth as he brought the wash cloth to it, cleaning your face. Matts hands continued, and your eyes closed, lips parted slightly. Just having his hands on you was comforting. You felt yourself sway a bit, and quickly righted yourself.
"You okay? Are you still with me?" he teased, smiling in an effort to keep you distracted.
Mathew trailed his fingers down your shoulders and you cried out suddenly, your back arching off the couch.
"Easy, easy, I've got you sweetheart. I've got you." Matt soothed, a twinge of guilt that he had hurt you assaulting him.
"That's going to need stitches from the feel of it. "
"I'm the luckiest person alive. " you joked, tears tracking down your face without your permission. It was going to hurt like a bitch, but it had to be done. Matt positioned himself between your legs so he could get close enough to stitch it up. This was not the way he had envisioned being between your thighs for the first time, but he would take what he could get.
You took the pillow from the end of the couch to squeeze as he began. It took everything in you not to scream. You didn't want to wake anyone or make him feel worse than he probably already did. A handful of you're doing so good, almost done, an ocean of tears, and twenty-three stitches across the top of your collarbone later, he was finished. Sweat covered you, torso and all. Your breathing was heavy as you reached over, hand trembling to feel the work.
"Not bad for someone who cant see what they're doing."
He shook his head, smirking.
"Don't thank me just yet, I still have to get your side." he hadn't felt for it yet, but that's were the scent of blood was heaviest.
For once, Matt was grateful he couldn't see, at least not in the traditional sense. You looked down at your side and wished you hadn't. The curve of your waist was sliced opened, and it was horrifically painful. You were relieved he couldn't see it as well. It was the strike you had taken to save him. All that would accomplish was making him feel more guilty for you taking the hit that saved him. You knew him well enough by now to know exactly where his line of thinking would go. You couldn't help but let out a soft sigh as his hands roamed down the front of you, one that would have been barely audible to anyone else without superior hearing. Matt had never touched you, not like this. His hands on your body, even though it hurt, felt exactly like you had imagined.
But someone like Matt would never want someone like you. You were too used to the darkness, and he was made of light. Whether he recognized it or not. You savored his touch, because this was all you were allowed...at least until he got to the laceration on your side. You cried out again as he began to clean the surrounding area, unable to stop yourself. It was caked with blood, both dried and some still slick. Matt heard your heart rate spike at the adrenaline rushing through you. Hopefully that would dull the pain. Relief rushed through him as he found that the sword has only separated your flesh, not punctured through it like...like how Elektra had died. It was also a completely different location, the wound stretched from the top of your pelvic bone and up to your waist. You would both have matching scars now. You had never been more grateful that you had a little bit of extra padding on your side. It was likely the only thing that saved you. You saw the look on Matts face when you passed the needle back to him, rethreaded for the second time, his blank gaze falling to the floor.
"Matthew. Look at me."
"And how would I do that-"
"Stop it. " your voice broke, no longer caring that tears stained your face. You had gotten him hurt, and he was sitting there feeling guilty. You couldn't stand it. His head tilted upward towards the sound of your breathing.
"This is not on you. This is on me. I pushed to do it last night before we had more information. I was impatient-I was so desperate to get them out of there I tool no consideration for my safety. Or yours. I hurt you. You are hurt because of me. I'm so sorry Matt, Im sorry. "
He said nothing in response, holding his words for a distraction while he closed your side.
"Lay on your other side." he instructed, moving a pillow to support your head.
You did as he asked, grateful that your shoulder wound was on the same side as the one on your hip. You wrapped your good- well. better- arm around the pillow and held it against your face to muffle your cries as he began. Matts words were forgotten as he tried to go as quickly as it was possible. He hated every second of this, you being hurt, hearing you scream and cry while he could do nothing.
When it was finally, blessedly over, your stitches finished and your shallow wounds cleaned and covered, You raised your head from the pillow, searching for him. He had begun to clean up, and he still had not acknowledged your plea for forgiveness. You sat up, moving closer to him.
"Aren't you going to say anything? Please Matty, I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault, I'm not upset with you so there's nothing to forgive. But we are not doing this again. I will not let you put yourself willingly in harms way again. You're done. "
"You have no room to talk, you "willingly put yourself in harms way" as you put it, almost every single day. I made my own choices, my actions are my own. If I hadn't done what I did tonight you could... you could be dead matt."
"How many times are you going to do that for me? What happens when you end up dead?! I couldn't live with myself if I lost you." he snapped back. Matthew was desperate to make you understand. He had to make you understand.
"You don't get to decide for me, Matthew. If I die protecting someone I care about then that's a great way to go." You shot back, honest venom covering every word.
Matt scoffed, knowing you meant it.
He cursed himself, knowing that it would change everything if he admitted it. But there was no sense in denying it anymore. He wrapped his arm around your uninjured hip, the other around your lower leg. Matt rested his head on the top of your thigh.
"When I found you on the floor, when I thought I might lose you... I felt hollow." Matt realized that he had said nearly those exact words to Elektra. He hadn't registered until this very moment just how much he loved you. Elektra gave him to freedom to be exactly himself, no judgement, no hiding. You did that for him as well, but you also didn't lie to him, not like he was lying to himself.
You sat there, guilty. So you had hurt him, just not in the way you thought.
"I'm sorry I hurt you like this. I don't want to lose you either, what you just said- that's how I felt last night on the roof. I didn't think -I just moved. I don't- can't, live in a world without you. "
You stroked his hair, loving how dark and feathery it was. The light from the window making the little strands of auburn hidden in it shine.
"You don't get it, do you? " he whispered, vulnerable. Fighting criminals at night? easy. Admitting out loud that he loved you? That was difficult.
Matt sat up, and you continued to stroke his hair and run your fingers down his arms.
"I love you, sweetheart. I love how you challenge me. That you sing in the shower. That you demand that there's tea in my apartment for when you're here late because you hate coffee .I love hearing your voice when you read aloud, and don't realize you're doing it. I love how much fire you have in you, that you don't quit. I love that you can hold your own, and that you let me protect you, even when you don't need me to. I love that you tease me back, that you can take what i give you and give it right back. You are never afraid to be unapologetically yourself, and you extend that grace to me. I don't have to hide anything from you, or lie to you. "
You stopped moving, stopped breathing. You watched as Matts beautiful brown eyes moved once, twice.
"Are you...sure?" you finally breathed out, unsure if this was real or not. Your eyes filled with tears again, but for a different reason than physical pain. You had been hurt so deeply before, you almost didn't believe him. He knew how badly people before him had damaged you, regardless of how confident and aloof you sometimes seemed. It was a defense mechanism to keep people away. If they stayed at an arms length, they couldn't hurt you.
Matt came closer, gently taking your hand and placing it against his chest.
"I'm about to lie to you, so you know what it feels like. My name is Matthew Murdock and I am six feet tall, with blonde hair and green eyes. "
You felt the jump in his chest.
"Did you feel it? Now I'm going to tell you the truth. Everything I said is true. I do love you. I am terrified to lose you. "
His pulse stayed steady, strong, and true. Even the man without fear, feared something.
"I believe you, Matty. I do. I'm just scared. I can't sit at home and wait for you to come back and worry the entire time. At least if I'm with you, I can watch over you."
"Like a guardian angel?" he mused, relieved that you hadn't pushed him away.
"I am way more attractive than a ball of light with a million eyes and wings. "
"Yes you are. You're my Angel. " Matt agreed, placing his hand on the side of your neck.
You cocked your head to the side, thinking.
"I wouldn't go that far. I'm not that holy, and I'm definitively more bite that bark. I'm more like a hellhound to be honest, if were going for religious imagery."
You both laughed, the volume slowly fading away as Matt moved even closer to you.
"Can I kiss you?" he asked gently. As good as he was at reading people, you were sometimes a challenge. He never wanted to violate your boundaries.
You nodded, and then laughed at yourself once more.
"I nodded, I'm sorry. It's hard to remember you're blind sometimes."
You felt his hand slide up into the back of your hair, and he heard your heart rate climb. You tried to stay still as still as possible as his mouth finally met yours. You softened instantly, yielding to him. He could do this forever, take hours if he wanted, and you would let him. Dear gods his mouth was perfect. You had wanted his unreasonably perfect lips on you since the day you fought him on the roof of the parking garage you had both been waiting to bust a drug dealer on. Fuck, it was like he was made for you. You ran your hands up his shoulders and buried your fingers in his hair once more. You did not pull, but the action alone made Matt more fervent. Your mouth parted for him as you leaned back on the couch, Matt standing halfway to follow the motion. Your teeth grazed his lower lip, and Matt responded in kind, nipping lightly at your own. This pulled a quiet moan from you, your fingers tightening in his hair at the sensation. Matt went absolutely feral inside, needing to be closer to you. He moved to place his legs on either side of you. Everything was fine until his knee brushed against your hip in the process. You gasped in pain against his mouth. Matt broke away from your lips, placing his forehead against yours. You were breathing hard, and you wanted more, but unfortunately you both knew it would have to wait until you were healed more. As stoic as Matt was, you knew he was also in pain.
"I'm sorry, I got carried away. Are you alright, little hellhound?"
"And here I was thinking you were going to continue to call me angel because I complained about it. I'll survive. I guess well have to wait for the extracurricular activities till my stitches come out. Shame, really. I was enjoying myself quite a bit."
"So I heard. And that sounds like something I would do, there's still time for me to change it. " he smirked, pleased with the effect he has on you.
" You can call me whatever you want, as long as one of those things is yours."
"Mine." he agreed, placing a kiss on your temple.
"In the meantime, we need to discuss a compromise. You can't keep me out of the night with you. I can't do that. Someone has to protect you."
"I know. I don't even know why I said that. I couldn't make you if I tried, short of tying you to the bed. " he admitted, somewhat tantalized by the thought.
"Don't threaten me with a good time, counselor. I have come up with a solution. You remember your red suit, right? What if I made you something similar to go under your shirt so you still had protection and flexibility? I'd make one for myself as well and well both wear them."
He mulled it over, and eventually nodded in agreement.
"That sounds fair. The red suit was a little extravagant."
"I prefer the original anyway..." You trailed off, glancing at where you had thrown the mask and shirt.
You moved closer to Matt, kissing his forehead, his cheek, and then back down to his mouth. It was a light kiss, barely touching. You smiled widely against his lips.
"I prefer it on the floor."
You felt his head tilt, and his jaw tighten beneath you.
It was going to be hell to wait for your stitches to come out, but at least he had you, the devil and his hellhound. More bite than bark indeed.
