i can't stop thinking about matt and biker girlfriend, so pls enjoy this shitty blurb
matt, who never leaves the city until his girlfriend convinces him to climb onto the back of her bike one saturday morning.
matt, who has never understood why people disappear for “a drive” until you take him down an empty highway on the coast with nowhere to be.
matt, who hates car rides, his senses don't help him in the slightest in an enclosed environment like that. but a bike? he can feel everything.
matt, who reaches your apartment after that first ride with wind tossed hair and flushed cheeks. who immediately kisses you senseless in the hallway and quietly asks, “…can we go again tomorrow?”
matt, who learns every tiny shift in your body language through the bike. the absentminded tap of your shoe on the foot peg when you’re about to change lanes, the way you lean into corners, how you squeeze his hand on your waist at red lights.
matt, who has a near heart attack the first time you suggest he tries riding.
matt, who spends the first week just sitting on your bike in the parking garage. hands on the grips, learning where every switch is. and memorizing every inch until he doesn’t have to think anymore.
matt, who pulls into an empty parking lot late at night after his first real ride. he takes off his helmet and just laughs, full on, breathless, disbelieving laughter.
matt, who absolutely, according to him, does not have a speed problem. “it doesn’t feel like ninety,” he says when you scold him.
matt, who rides with the same fluid grace he fights with, and it’s almost impossible to remember there was ever a time he couldn’t make the bike feel like an extension of himself.
notes: can u tell i wrote this sitting in my car after making eye contact with a hot guy on a motorcycle earlier today
Warnings/tags: 18+; canon typical violence, friends to lovers, mutual pining, road trip with the Devil, fake honeymoon, eventual smut
After your client disappears in the middle of a case, you suddenly find yourself targeted by the opposing side. With nowhere safe to hide in New York City, your only option is to go on the run. But Matt insists on coming with to keep you safe, so you both set out on a road trip under the guise of a honeymoon. Because you are the one person the Devil would leave Hell’s Kitchen for.
During the 1920s, Hell’s Kitchen (also known then as Clinton) was a working-class, impoverished neighborhood on Manhattan’s West Side, notorious for its extreme poverty, gang violence, and bustling docks. Prohibition profoundly impacted the area, turning it into a hotbed of organized crime.
In 1923, organized crime changed your life forever. Violence between gangs and the Mafia, fueled by bootlegging, reigned on the streets you used to frequent.
Clinton Church had existed since 1843. In 1923, the gang that followed the corrupt Owney Madden was preparing for their leader’s departure and decided that the church should join the network of corruption they controlled.
The convent refused to be part of the corruption that permeated Hell's Kitchen.
The attack happened on the night of May 23, 1923.
May 23, 1923, was the night you died and were reborn.
Humanity had abandoned you to harbor a darkness beyond human understanding. You were no longer like the others. You were thirsty, thirsty for blood.
The gang was reported missing. The truth is, they all died at your hands.
You grew up at Saint Agnes Orphanage; that was your home, the nuns, Father Steven.
It was your duty to accept what God had given you.
Father Steven and Sister Grace made sure your secret remained hidden, that the demon of Saint Agnes would remain just a rumor.
Deep within the Clinton Church, you willingly locked yourself in a room containing only a coffin, which would become the bed of your eternal sleep.
By 1934, you were completely dried up and kept as Father Steven's best-kept secret.
By 1955, your skin had clung to your bones. The former vitality of your skin had vanished. You looked like what you were: a dead being.
94 years later, you awaken from what seemed like a sleep that would last until the end of days.
It is 2017, and you remained frozen in time, only to be thrown into the arms of a new world.
Under Father Lantom's tutelage, you must learn to live in this new world.
In 2017, months after Midland Circle, Matt Murdock finds himself in the same convent.
summary: After what happened at Midland Circle, Matt's life had changed forever. In the arms of the convent that had nurtured him after his father's death, he decided to take refuge there and consider the man he used to be dead.
As much as he longs to leave the Daredevil mask behind, a new wave of murders is terrorizing Hell's Kitchen.
These aren't ordinary murders. It's not revenge, settling scores, or a robbery gone wrong. They resemble attacks by an animal.
The bodies found share the same pattern: a lack of blood and deep, large bites from sharp fangs. Every single one of them belongs to someone who was part of a gang, the mafia, or committed a serious crime.
What's attacking Hell's Kitchen isn't organized crime, but rather a bloodlust seeking to be satiated after years of neglect.
Matt will have to understand that he isn't the only demon Saint Agnes has spawned.
ㅤㅤㅤACT ONE: wake up dead man
warnings: this series will feature graphic depictions of daredevil's violent world, as well as graphic sexual scenes. minors dni.
notes: well, i've been a vampire fan my whole life, and i've also been in love with matt murdock for a loooooooong time; it was obvious i was going to try to blend these two worlds.
this is a fanfic i used to write a few years ago but never quite finished. i have several chapters, but i left it in the basement, lmao.
it's been years since i've written a series, so i want to start with this one to regain the confidence i used to have.
if you're interested in the series and want me to notify you when it's updated, please let me know in the comments. <3
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artist!reader x sugardaddy!matt
chapter summary: Dani receives an unexpected call during your layover.
series warnings: 18+ for smut, canon-typical violence, age gap, huge wealth gap, AFAB reader, slow burn, semi-retired daredevil
notes: Dani POV yesss
word count: 2.9k
"Dearest, I beg of you, sleep properly and go for walks."
-Franz Kafka
It's entirely possible that Heathrow airport was the physical manifestation of hell, specifically after seven hours stuck in it. Dry air, bad coffee, crying babies, and fluorescent lighting designed specifically to make your eyes twitch.
By hour six, you’d completely crashed. Emotionally. Physically. Everything. You were curled sideways across two airport chairs wearing Matt’s hoodie with your backpack tucked beneath your head while soft snowfall drifted beyond the massive terminal windows outside. Dead asleep.
Dani sat nearby scrolling aimlessly through her phone, one airpod in while guarding both your carry ons like an exhausted raccoon with a crumpled up takeout bag from the trash. She glanced up occasionally to check on you. You looked heartbreaking. Mascara faintly smudged beneath your eyes, and your hands tucked into the sleeves of the hoodie. Completely dead to the world from emotional exhaustion. Her chest tightened every time she looked at you.
Then her phone buzzed. Unknown number.
She almost ignored it, but paused when she recognized the New York area code. Dani frowned slightly before answering quietly. “Hello?” It was silent on the other end for a minute. Then, "Dani.”
Her eyes widened immediately. Oh, this fucking man. She looked instinctively toward you sleeping nearby before standing quickly and moving farther down the terminal. “You have some nerve calling me,” she hissed quietly. On the other end of the line, Matt absorbed the hit without hesitation. He certainly deserved it, whatever it was that he did. "I know."
“No, I don’t think you do.”
Silence. Dani glanced over her shoulder toward you still sleeping across the chairs. “I don’t know what you did," Matt’s breath caught, “And honestly? I don’t care right now.”
“You know what I can’t figure out?” Matt said nothing. “What exactly you thought was going to happen when you called me," a muscle jumped in her jaw, “Did you think I was gonna help you?” The silence on the other end answered for him and Dani let out a short, humorless laugh. “Seriously. Walk me through the plan.”
“Dani-”
“No. I’m curious," her voice dropped, “You call me. Her best friend. The woman currently sitting next to her while we're stranded in this airport for hours." she swallowed hard. “And then what?” Dani shook her head. “You thought I was gonna be on your side here?”
“No.”
Dani blinked. “No?” His voice was soft when he spoke, almost deferential, "No, I didn’t think you’d be on my side.”
“Then why are you calling?”
It was silent for a moment. Finally, “…Because you’re with her.”
Dani opened her mouth. Then closed it again. Damn it. For the first time since answering the phone, she didn’t have a comeback ready. Because there wasn’t really anything to say to that, he wasn’t asking her to take his side, and hadn't even tried defending himself. Every shot she’d thrown at him he’d taken without argument.
The line stayed quiet as on the other end, Matt seemed to be waiting, possibly anticipating more yelling. She didn't. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded rough. “…Is she okay?”
Dani almost rolled her eyes. What a stupid question. Of course she wasn’t okay. She'd cried herself to sleep in the middle of Heathrow wearing his hoodie. But the irritation faded almost as quickly as it appeared. Because geez, he sounded awful.
Dani leaned against one of the walls outside the gate and rubbed a hand over her face. “She’s exhausted,” she admitted finally. “She cried basically the entire flight." The line went quiet again, and she heard him exhale shakily. “She hasn’t really eaten,” Dani continued reluctantly. “She’s mostly just... quiet.”
“She gets that way when she’s overwhelmed,” he said softly.
Dani was silenced for half a second. Because of course he knew that. Of course he did. In that moment she understood something horrifying, these two idiots were catastrophically in love. Great. Fantastic. She shook her head, focusing back on the call, and glanced at the departure board nearby. “And this stupid layover is making everything worse.”
“How long is the layover supposed to be?”
Dani blinked. "Twelve hours.”
Silence. Then Matt muttered a curse. Oh my god. Dani actually laughed once in disbelief. “Matt, are you seriously getting mad about a layover right now?”
“She gets migraines when she’s tired and dehydrated.” Dani shut her eyes slowly. Insane. This man was insane. “And Heathrow’s too loud-,” Matt continued quietly, more to himself now. "must be so uncomfortable. She hates sleeping sitting upright because her neck always hurts afterward.” Dani pinched the bridge of her nose. “You are unbelievably irritating.”
For a moment, all Dani could hear was his breathing. When he spoke again his voice sounded strained, “Please.”
The desperation in that single word softened her despite herself. “What?”
“Don’t tell her I called.”
Dani frowned immediately. “…What?”
“I mean it. I don’t want her thinking I’m trying to pressure her.”
God. She should hang up on him. There was a muffled sound on the other end of the line, and when Matt spoke again, his voice sounded oddly careful. “Can you check your texts?” Dani blinked. "Why?”
“I fixed the Athens flight.”
Oh my GOD. Dani looked down at the phone in her hand and sighed, brows furrowing. “…You already knew about the layover.” It was comically silent on the line. Dani closed her eyes. “You cannot be serious.”
“I am serious. She shouldn’t be in coach for another four hours after a twelve hour layover.” The offense in Matt’s voice at the concept of you being uncomfortable was so genuine Dani almost laughed, “There is something seriously wrong with you.”
“Probably.”
Dani opened her messages. And there it was, two first class boarding passes for the Athens leg. Good lord. “There’s a lounge access code too,” Matt added quietly. “She needs actual sleep.”
Dani stared through the terminal glass at you, still curled up asleep in Matt’s hoodie. And despite every instinct telling her not to, Dani’s annoyance finally cracked just slightly into reluctant sympathy. “She’s really hurt, Matt.” The silence on the other end of the line went uncomfortably heavy. Matt’s voice cracked when he answered, “I know.” Dani looked down at the upgraded tickets again. Then quietly, “What am I supposed to tell her?”
Matt was silent for several seconds. Finally, “Anything, a raffle, your parent's miles. I don’t care.” Then softer, "Just let her rest.”
By the time Dani gently shook your shoulder awake, you felt half dead. Your body ached from sleeping curled awkwardly across airport chairs and your eyes still burned faintly from crying so much on the flight out of New York. For one disorienting second you forgot where you were entirely. Then Heathrow’s fluorescent lights came back into focus. Right. London. Leaving. Matt. Your chest tightened instantly.
Dani must’ve seen it happen on your face because she immediately spoke before the spiral could start. “Hey." Her voice softened. “I got us an upgrade, and lounge access.” You blinked sleepily at her. “What?” Dani waved her hand. “My parents’ loyalty points thing. I think it was some kinda raffle? I don’t know.”
Normally you would’ve questioned that immediately. Tonight, you barely had enough energy to keep your eyes open. “Oh,” you mumbled softly. Dani stared at you for half a second looking almost pensive. Then quickly, “Come on. You need real food.”
You followed her numbly through the terminal wrapped in the warm hoodie with your backpack hanging loosely from one shoulder. The lounge doors opened. And immediately everything changed. Quiet. Warm lighting. Soft chairs. Actual calm. You nearly cried on sight.
Dani watched you carefully while you wandered farther inside looking dazed. Then your eyes landed on the refreshments table and immediately lit up for the first time in almost two days. “Dani.” She turned. Your voice sounded small and almost surprised.
“They have my tea.” Chamomile vanilla. Your comfort tea, and you were already moving toward it sleepily. “And look-” You picked up a wrapped chocolate with genuine soft delight. "My favorite." You didn’t notice anything strange about it at all. Why would you? This was your first time in any kind of luxury airport lounge.
You settled heavily into one of the chairs afterward with tea curled between your hands while Dani watched you slowly come back to life. Enough that your shoulders loosened slightly for the first time since leaving New York.
“You okay?” Dani asked quietly.
You nodded after a second, speaking honestly. "I think I forgot human beings need actual sleep.” Dani smiled faintly. “Yeah. You’ve been kind of going through it.” Your eyes drifted tiredly toward the terminal windows. Snow moved softly through the London night outside. For one terrible aching second you wondered what Matt was doing right now. Then immediately pushed the thought away before it could hurt too much.
The boarding announcement for Athens came almost too soon afterward, and somehow things got even more ridiculous from there. You stared blankly at the first class cabin when you boarded. “Dani.” She refused to meet your eyes. “What?”
“This is insane.” They looked less like airplane seats and more like tiny private hotel rooms. You turned slowly in disbelief when a flight attendant immediately offered you both champagne. “People live like this?" Dani snorted, “Apparently.”
You collapsed into the seat in absolute exhausted awe while an attendant whisked your carry on away before you could even process what was happening. “Where did my bag go?” you whispered. “It’ll be under the plane,” Dani assured you quickly.
Eventually more luxuries began appearing. First hot towels, then a blanket softer than your actual bedding. Then came the unbelievable food. “This feels illegal,” you muttered at one point while staring at a dessert tray.
You finished before curling beneath the blanket. And for the first time since finding the hidden room, you relaxed a little. The attendants dimmed the cabin lights while you put on headphones and started one of your comfort movies. After about only twenty minutes in, your eyes drooped heavily. Dani looked over from her seat beside you. “You should sleep.”
You nodded weakly. Then quietly, “This is really nice.” You settled deeper into the blankets after removing the headphones, bundled beneath first-class blankets while soft cabin light glowed around you. You were out in just a few minutes.
Athens greeted you with cold sunlight. The city was spread beneath dull, gray winter skies like something ancient and half asleep, all pale stone and distant hills and soft seafoam colored air. You stared out the taxi window silently the entire drive from the airport. Exhausted. Jetlagged. Heart sore in ways you still didn’t know how to touch directly.
Dani mostly let you be. She occasionally pointed things out quietly, a cafe tucked between buildings, bitter orange trees lining sidewalks, and cats curled in storefront windows. But mostly she just sat beside you while the city passed by around you both.
Then the taxi stopped, and you immediately frowned. “Dani.” She avoided eye contact instantly. “This cannot be our cheap hotel.” The building looked elegant in that understated expensive European way, with cream stone, arched windows, warm lighting glowing behind the glass doors. The kind of place where people honeymooned.
Dani coughed awkwardly. “The website upgraded us." You stared at her. “They upgraded us from what? Our cardboard box?”
“Europe’s weird,” Dani muttered quickly while grabbing her suitcase. You were too tired to fight her on it, so you sighed and grabbed your own luggage. Besides, the second you stepped inside the suite, your brain stopped functioning anyway. “Oh my god.”
The room was stunning. Not gaudy offensive luxury but warm and intentional. Soft neutral fabrics. Tall windows. A balcony that was overlooking the distant Acropolis. The entire suite glowed gold despite the winter early morning clouds. You walked farther inside slowly like you were afraid touching anything would cost extra. “Dani.” She dropped dramatically onto one of the beds. “I know.”
You wandered toward the balcony in a daze. Outside, Athens stretched endlessly beneath the pale winter sky. And there towering above the city was the Acropolis. Ancient. Massive and timeless. Your throat tightened unexpectedly.
Suddenly you were picturing Matt kneeling in front of you crying again, and your chest hurt immediately. No. Not now. You pressed your palms against the cold balcony railing and forced yourself to breathe. Behind you, Dani quietly unpacked, thankfully pretending not to notice you trying not to cry again.
The first two days in Athens passed in a thick haze. Like your body needed time to remember how to exist again. You slept. A lot. The jetlag mixed with emotional exhaustion so heavily that sometimes you woke up disoriented, forgetting for a few blissful seconds that your life had cracked open in New York. Then reality would settle back in all over again. Still, the distance helped.
The hotel became a cocoon almost immediately. Mornings were spent wrapped in blankets drinking coffee, beside the enormous windows while winter light spilled across the room. The afternoons required you take long baths, warm and cozy foods from room service, and many half asleep conversations with Dani. Evenings were full of tiny cocktails in the hotel lounge while live musicians played softly.
You'd started wearing your own clothes again instead of Matt’s hoodie by the time you'd arrived on the first day, though at night you still slept in it.
And outside, Athens waited patiently. On the third evening, you finally left the hotel properly. Just a walk, nothing particularly ambitious. The ruins near your hotel glowed pale gold beneath the setting sun while cold air drifted softly through olive trees nearby.
Winter Athens felt strangely intimate. No massive tourist crowds or chaos. Just ancient stone and quiet footsteps echoing through the pathways. You walked beside Dani silently for a long time. Your coat pulled tight around you against the chill. Then finally, “I think I’m still in shock.” Dani glanced toward you gently. “Yeah,” she admitted, “I think you are too.”
You stopped briefly near a crumbling marble column. The Acropolis rose above everything in the distance. Ancient, and watching. Your eyes burned faintly, “I miss him.” The confession slipped out before you could stop it. Raw. Honest.
Dani didn’t answer immediately. Instead she just moved closer beside you and slipped an arm around your shoulders while cold wind stirred through the ruins around you both.
Your best friend watched as you slowly swam your way back up to yourself. The city helped because it demanded your attention. Athens wasn’t delicate, it was loud and layered and and full of life tucked between ruins thousands of years old. And eventually you started participating in it again.
You and Dani wandered everywhere. Tiny cafes tucked into winding streets. Tavernas and flea markets. Stone stairways lined with cats sleeping in sunlight. You took pictures constantly. At first it was mostly absentmindedly. Then with genuine effort. And Dani noticed the shift immediately. Because creating had always been the clearest sign of you returning to yourself.
The first time you stopped dead in the middle of a street to photograph an alley because of the way the shadows hit the buildings Dani nearly cried from relief. You looked up from your camera, “What?” She smiled, “Nothing.”
Athens loved you back. Local shopkeepers flirted with the two of you shamelessly. Old women complimented your hair and cafe owners always gave you both free extra pastries. One bartender called you a 'prinkípissa' and you laughed so hard you nearly choked on your cocktail. It was the first real laugh Dani had heard from you since New York.
Matt didn't bother you or make any attempts to reach out. The restraint was honestly making Dani’s job harder because she wanted to hate him. Instead she kept finding herself watching you heal inside the space he'd quietly arranged for your comfort.
It happened another three days later, when you were asleep again. You’d come back from exploring Plaka late one evening flushed from cold air and carrying an array of tiny shopping bags. Postcards, handmade beaded jewelry, and other random trinkets you absolutely did not need.
After walking almost 20 thousands steps through Athens photographing the cats, olive and eucalyptus trees, and tiny stalls, you’d crashed face first into the hotel bed sometime around sunset. Dani stepped quietly onto the balcony when he called. Athens glittered below beneath the winter night.
“You lasted almost six days,” Dani said by way of greeting. Matt was quiet for a second. “…I was trying not to bother you.”
“Funny. That’s not usually your strongest skill.” Dani could practically hear his embarrassment in the silence that followed. Then he asked, “…Is she asleep?” She glanced through the balcony doors. “Dead to the world.”
Matt hesitated briefly. “…How was today?” It was surprisingly vague. Like he couldn’t bear hearing directly about your emotions quite yet. Dani leaned against the railing. “She’s better when she’s distracted.” Matt went quiet. Then, “Did she eat?” Dani laughed despite the serious tone, “You are such a dad.”
“Well... she forgets when she’s upset.”
Dani closed her eyes briefly. Because again, he knew you too well. “She ate,” Dani admitted. “And she took about four hundred photos today.” He spoke soft enough Dani almost missed it. “Good.”
That single word held devastating relief inside it. Dani glanced back through the balcony doors. You were sprawled diagonally across the massive hotel bed barefoot, still in your clothes, while your camera sat abandoned on the nightstand beside you. For the first time since New York, you looked peaceful.
And suddenly Dani understood something, Matt really wasn’t meddling because he thought luxury would win you back. Loving you had become something instinctive to him. Automatic. He literally did not know how to stop taking care of you. Meanwhile you remained blissfully unaware.
notes: imagining Dani's face when she first realized it was Matt calling sends me into a fit of giggles.
also just picture matt having karen read him the flight number from the selfie/figuring out what airport they're in so that he can meddle 🤭
thank you for the tag @eternal-sunflowers mwahmwah
last song: honeybee by olivia rodrigo (tbh the whole new album has me in a chokehold 😭)
last series: B99 (I'm currently watching friends for the first time as well :D)
last movie: the notebook!
current obsession: matt murdock ofc <3 and OLIVIA'S NEW ALBUM OH MY GOD I LOVE IT TO BITS.
currently reading: white nights by fyodor dostoyevsky
currently working on: A LOT OF FICS, but specifically the chapter three of my mermaid au with matt, and the surprise project based on the new olivia album :D, but other than that i'm also working on my design portfolio!
last search: prosaic
tea or coffee: coffee (specifically cold coffee) but also i love tea too (mostly iced tea)
favorite fruit: PINEAPPLE also mangos
favorite flower: forget me nots and sunflowers
favorite color: red, blue, and yellow :>
npts: @nohugsallowed @aamtreeanalogy @bitchy-bi-trash @cloudmurdock @angelmurdock + anyone who wants to join
Last Series: One Piece (Luffy is fighting Kaido alone for anyone wondering where I’m at)
Last Movie: Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning
Current obsession: One Piece, Outlast franchise, Daredevil series
Currently reading: Matt Murdock fanfic & Dracula written by Bram Stoker
Currently working on: Multiple fics (Thomas Hewitt, chapter three of Tarhos Kovács/knight dbd & a Trafalgar Law fic)
Last search: how to get of the mature content filter on Tumblr (I forgot to add my age to the account after all these years somehow) just to continue reading a chaptered Matt Murdock fic (by the lovely tagged person). I’m not joking that’s actually my last search.
Tea or Coffee: both! I drink both often
Fav fruit: raspberries
Favorite flower: black dahlias
Favcolor: a deep purple or red!
Tag: @lilacmurdock
(I don’t talk to people on here often I’m sorry 😞)
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s while Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.
chapter masterlist
Words: 4.6k
ao3 link
He dreams of hands.
They are soft and delicate, but they do not treat him as such. They wrap around his throat, tightening and cutting off his air until he is left gasping and wheezing - nails dig into him, breaking his flesh and drawing up dots of blood.
But the hands do not hurt him. They do not cause pain.
They only bring him pleasure.
They make him feel Desired.
Wanted.
They claw desperately at him, not holding back as they squeeze and tear at him. He isn’t treated as something delicate - something that will crack and break under the slightest pressure. He arches into them as he is marked with thin lines of scratches - begs with what voice he can muster for more.
More.
He’s teased to the point of almost too much before the hands reset.
Whatever they plan for him, he submits so easily to it.
He yearns for it when one leaves his neck to force open his jaw. He is in bliss as his lips are pushed back so his teeth are exposed like he’s an animal in need of inspection. A thumb tests the sharpness of his canines before more digits are added to completely fill his mouth. His head is tilted and guided so he can be thoroughly examined and he prays the fingers will gag him - be shoved down his throat so all he can taste is their saltiness.
But they don’t. They retract until only the tips remain, keeping him from being able to close his mouth. A low whine escapes his throat in protest, something weak and pathetic and needy, and the response he gets is more pressure to his windpipe until he’s struggling to breathe.
As his lungs become desperate for oxygen, something viscous begins to drip into his waiting maw and he wastes no time drinking down whatever the gift is. It is tangy and musky, but sweet and he wants it to coat the inside of his mouth.
He wants to drown in it.
As he begins to overflow and get his wish, the hands holding him down begin to fade into nothingness and he is left floating in the abyss.
But he is not alone.
He is wrapped within the drumming of twin beats - one is stronger than the other, but they are both steady. They are both warm. They call to him and the beast inside his chest trills out in response - he wants to be with them. To be a part of them.
Soon, the smaller beat begins to morph - it’s firm ‘thuds’ stretching and bending until they are words.
“Daddy, wake up.”
Matt’s eyes blink open.
Despite their uselessness in terms of sight, the act still helps him wake up and fight off his grogginess as he begins to process all the inputs he is receiving. The most obvious and important of the signals he is getting is that of his precious daughter, standing next to the bed, just by his chest.
She does not seem distressed in any way, so he does not panic. He lets himself yawn and for his brain to catch up to being awake before he responds.
“Yes, princess?” he asks, voice still thick with sleep. He doesn’t move, hoping that whatever has his daughter out of bed is trivial and he won’t have to get up just yet. He has no idea what time it is, but he gets so little rest that even an extra few minutes will do him wonders.
“Daddy!” Minnie’s voice is filled with absolute delight at his acknowledgement, but is also a fraction above a whisper - like she is just barely breathing out the words. Matt’s lips turn up into a soft smile as he realizes she’s trying to be quiet so she will not wake the other person sleeping in his bed. You are deep in Dreamland, but you have a Mother's Ear. If you hear Minnie up and talking, you'll jump to attention, and neither he or his princess want that.
He rolls so he is on his side facing his little one, and reaches out to run the back of his index finger over one of her full cheeks, “Why are you awake, baby?”
Mouse preens at the affection, a wide smile taking over her face as she leans into his touch, “I needs help, please thank you,” she starts, her soft voice coming out a little rushed as she tries to tell him everything at once. “I gots up all by myselfs and went pee in the toilets. All by myselfs. Buts, Daddy, I can’t…I can’t reach the sinks. I trieded but it's too high and I can’t reach it. I tried really really hard! Mommy says, Daddy, she says, Mommy says if I can’ts do it myself I gotta ask for help. So I need help, please thank you.”
Matt takes in the information slowly, letting it roll in his brain and combine with everything else he senses.
He can hear the toilet gurgling and refilling after being flushed. He can smell the traces of urine on Minnie’s fingers from her efforts to clean herself. The world begins to bloom around him as he processes what is being asked of him.
A small amount of Pride fills him at her attempts to take care of herself. She wears pull ups to sleep because she is still learning to control her bladder at night, but since Matt has known her, there have been no accidents he is aware of - even in this new environment. It isn’t her fault he has a tall pedestal sink with no step stool for her to use so she can wash her hands.
Rest is important, but his little girl needs him, so Matt rolls himself out of bed.
As soon as he is up on his feet, Minnie is holding up her arms to be picked up, so she is scooped up onto his hips, and her tiny arms go right around his neck. His shirt covers the bruises and cuts that make up his entire torso, but it does nothing to cushion the pain of thirty pounds being bumped into him. He's far too disciplined to wince or grunt, but he reminds himself this is why he needs to work on his defense.
He can't play with his daughter with broken ribs.
As he carries her to the bathroom, he becomes more and more awake and Minnie’s attempts to turn on the sink become more and more obvious.
The faucet is dripping the smallest amount of water, one drop at a time - the handle has just barely been nudged to turn on - and something semi solid has been dragged over to be in front of the sink. Only when Matt is right in front of it and can feel the item with his foot does he realize it’s his empty laundry hamper, but tilted over to be on its side.
He huffs a soft laugh as he imagines his daughter trying to figure out a solution to her hand-washing problem. He loves her cleverness and outside the box toddler thinking.
“Did you try to climb up on the hamper to wash your hands?” he asks, curious as to what the response will be. He's curious about her logic and curious if she'll admit to moving the hamper.
“It’s not strongs enough to hold me,” she grumbles into his shoulder and Matt does nothing to suppress his grin. He likes the answer. He likes how honest and direct she is.
He likes that she follows the rules her mother gave about washing her hands. He likes that she realized she had a problem and attempted to find a solution, and when that didn't work, she came and asked for help.
Matt loves her so so much and he loves all the values you have instilled into her. They are the values that you hold, that you cherish, and think are the most important. Every time he thinks about what a wonderful mother you are, his heart swells and he can't believe God is being so gracious with him.
He thanks the Lord everyday for you and the precious angel you have brought into his life.
Matt gets his foot under the hamper and lifts it back up right with ease, explaining as he does, “It’s made of wicker - that’s a type of tree. It’s hollow inside and that means it can’t support any weight. It’s only meant to hold clothes, not people.” He wants her to understand why her problem solving didn't work. He selfishly wants to encourage this type of behavior. If she can get up at night and wash her own hands, he gets more sleep.
“But I’m a peoples.”
“You are a peoples. But Daddy overlooked not having a step stool for you,” he says, owning up to his oversight. He admittedly has not been around too much during waking hours, unfortunately. The firm has been busy, so Matt has been getting to work at seven thirty in the morning and Minnie gets tired around eight at night. That doesn't give him a lot of time when he gets home at six in the evening. “I’ll get one for you today, okay?”
“Can it be pink?”
Matt agrees to the request as the hamper is returned to its usual home, and once that is done, he assists Minnie by holding her up to the sink so she can thoroughly wash her hands. He is no longer surprised at how seriously she takes the task - his angel always wants to follow any rules her Mommy gives her and he knows first hand how overwhelming dirty hands can be on the senses - and the combination results in Minnie scrubbing enough to make a surgeon jealous.
As his daughter focuses on her task, he lets his hearing open up to the world outside the apartment. He gets the feeling it is still a few hours until sunrise - there is a distinct stillness the city gets between four and six am, and that is just beginning to waiver. In his quick scan, no one gives him an exact time, but he knows well enough that however early it is, his day has started. By the way his little girl is humming while she works, he knows there is no chance of getting her back to sleep. She is up and about and there is no way Matt is going to rouse you from your slumber when he’s perfectly capable and taking care of his angel.
He’s used to working on no sleep and he’ll happily sacrifice a few hours of rest to be able to be with his daughter. Plus, he’ll be in court all day, supporting Foggy as second chair - with all the breaks and waiting around that normally occurs, he can sneak in a few power naps.
He’ll be fine.
As for his morning with his sweet girl, Matt has been wanting to cook with Minnie for a while. Despite his diet of take out and leftovers, he does know his way around a kitchen and he knows for a fact Mouse is the best sous chef New York has to offer. She will be thrilled to help him do something special for her favorite person in the world.
And she will be even more thrilled when Matt tells her the plan is to make her Mommy breakfast in bed. He very much wants to spoil you after you took such good care of him the night before and letting you sleep in will just be the tip of the iceberg.
You deserve the Sun, the Stars, and the Moon, and while he can’t manage that at this exact moment, he can wrangle up a few physical reminders of his adoration.
Minnie gets the last of the soap off her hands and Matt pivots so she can reach the towel to dry herself off. As he does, his mind refocuses to the morning routine and the steps he needs to take before he can enact the first steps of his plan - he needs to get his daughter ready for her day. That means getting her dressed and doing her hair.
He sees no reason to beat around the bush, so he bluntly asks, “how do you want to do your hair today, Princess?”
Mouse gives a tiny gasp and looks up at him with what he can only guess is wonder, “you’re gonna do my hair, Daddy?” Her little hands shoot up and she begins patting around her bed-head curls and he can practically hear the gears turning in her mind as she determines what she wants. You’ve told him a few times that you have been letting her make this big decision in the mornings, so he waits patiently, understanding the need for independence.
“A ponytail!” is the final verdict and Matt is slightly relieved it is nothing complicated.
“We can do a ponytail. Can you pick out some clothes that will go nice with a ponytail?” he asks, knowing the answer will be an enthusiastic ‘yes’. Hair is something he can deal with, but picking out a toddler approved outfit is beyond his skill level for obvious reasons. Minnie is a little fashionista with all her tulle and party dresses and he would hate to make her look like a jester instead of the royalty she is.
He adjusts his hold on her before leaving the bathroom and as he makes his way back to the bedroom, he drops his voice low, “we need to be quiet so we don’t wake Mommy, okay?”
“Quiet,” Mouse breathes in agreement, her face scrunching up with determination as she does. “So we don't wake Mommy.” He knows then that she will try her best to obey him and it makes his heart swell.
He has the sweetest little girl in the world.
He sets her back down just outside the doorway, and to his great surprise, she instantly pushes up to be on her tip toes. She is a bit wobbly, but she has far more control than he expected for a four year old. She turns to him, and in the most authoritative voice he’s heard in a while advises, “we gotta be quiets” before sneaking into the room.
Her steps are exaggerated - she lifts her foot up way too high to be practical before setting it down again and between each movement is a pause to check for noise. He is reminded of an old timey bank robber and he guesses that must be the reference she is mimicking - some Bugs Bunny or Scooby Doo cartoon where silence was crucial. Her antics make him smile and he takes a moment to observe them - noting how she is true to her nickname. She makes no excessive noise and he’s sure if he didn’t have his superior senses, he wouldn’t be able to detect her.
It is amazing to him that something that took years of training for him to master comes so naturally to Minnie. She truly is his miracle, and if he thinks about it for too long, he gets overly emotional and philosophical, so he tucks all his awe away for another time and follows her into the bedroom.
While Mouse follows her mission of picking out some clothes, Matt grabs the bucket of hair supplies from his dresser. He doesn’t know what all the different bottles and products are for, but he takes them all anyway. He is hoping a few more sessions will have him graduating out of the novice category of hair styling and he will be able to do more than the basics.
Apparently, asking Minnie to pick out clothes while being quiet also made her focus, as she selects something from her suitcase in record speed. She exits back into the living room the same time he does, a big smile on her face as she holds up her prizes to present to him. He's pretty sure she's showing him a pair of leggings and a t-shirt dress, but such small clothes are a little harder for him to figure out.
“I wanna wear these.”
“With your ponytail?”
“Yes, please! Thank you!”
With the hard decisions made, he guides Mouse over to the couch and that begins the process of changing her into her day clothes. He’s so very lucky that she finds novelty in him being the one to assist her, because she wants to show him all the right way to do things and that she can get dressed all by herself. He’s only needed to help straighten everything out and to tell her she looks perfect in her apparently pink dress.
Her hair is almost just as easy - Matt finds joy in running his fingers through her bouncy little curls and Minnie can't soak up the affection quick enough. He’s gentle as he manually detangles any knots and he forgoes the brush completely in favor of pulling her hair up with his hands. It is far from the smoothest of ponytails, but as soon as his hands are away from her head, Mouse is running to the nearest reflective surface to examine herself.
She twirls and poses, pretending she is in front of a camera while declaring, “Daddy made me extra pretty!”
He does not need anymore ego boosting, but the compliment goes right into his front pocket and he will be telling Foggy about his accomplishments.
He lets her spin around and have her fun, in no rush to move the morning along. He knows better than anyone that these types of small moments are what his Soul and Heart need and he will cling to them as long as he can. He does wish he knew how to get his phone to take video and pictures, because he knows how much you would cherish them. It is something he plans to work on - not only for you but for him as well. He has daydreams about attending dance recitals and spelling bees and he wants to be the proud dad in the crowd filming everything. He wants to be able to go back to those moments and listen to them anytime he wants to.
But until he actually has the energy and patience to learn more about his phone, he will treasure this time only in his memory.
Minnie gives a final peace sign to her reflection, then she turns and hurries over to Matt with her arms held out to be picked up.
“I’m a kitty!” she eagerly tells him as he once again swings her up onto his hip. She not-so-gently headbutts him in the shoulder, then starts rubbing her cheek against his shirt. “Meow meow meow!”
Her gleefullness is infectious and Matt is quickly grinning while he begins to exaggeratedly pet at her back, “Well, Miss Kitty, I was thinking about making some scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast and I was hoping to have an assistant. Since my daughter seems to have disappeared, do you think you can help me?”
Minnie pulls back so she can look at him, then she reaches up, fingers curled up to make a paw, and starts playfully, but so gently, batting at his cheek. “Meow meow, scrambled eggs and toast? Meow meow. I knows how to make those, I can helps, meow meow!”
“You can help?” He confirms and she nods so hard her curls bounce around behind her. “And you won’t get any fur in the eggs? This is an extra special breakfast.”
“Meow meow, extra special breakfast, meow meow?”
He hums in affirmation and begins to carry his little girl towards the kitchen. “Extra special breakfast. You see, someone I love very very much is still asleep and I think it would be nice to wake her up with breakfast in bed. What do you think, Miss Kitty?”
Matt gets another light bop to the face just as Minnie asks, “Meow meow, is it for Mommy, meow meow?”
“It is for Mommy.”
He sets her on the back counter, away from the stove, and starts to pull out everything he will need to complete his task. As he does, Mouse begins to swing her feet.
“Meow meow, Mommy likes red stuff on her eggies. Meow meow meow,” she tells you, but he has no idea what she is talking about. He’s never noticed if you add something to your eggs, but he’s not entirely sure if you have eaten eggs together. Most of your meals together have been lunch or dinner, and he doesn’t recall any breakfast for dinner scenarios.
“I don’t think I have any red stuff,” he advises as he takes out the milk, eggs, cheese, and butter from the fridge. She is completely nonplussed by the update and keeps up her kitty-time play.
“Meow meow, she likes cheese, toos. Meow meow.”
That makes him chuckle and instead of putting the bag onto the counter, he offers it to his daughter, who eagerly hugs it to her chest. “Do kitties like cheese, too?”
“Meow meow, kitties love cheese! Meow meow meow!”
“What about whisking eggs, do kitties love to do that?”
He doesn’t get a verbal response and he gets about a quarter of a second of warning before Minnie is leaping down from the counter. He darts forward, catching her by the waist as her feet miss brushing the floor by a centimeter, but his hold is no match against a wiggly toddler and she’s running out of the kitchen before his mind can process what just happened.
He stands slowly, his heart slamming in his chest with adrenaline over his sweet girl jumping off something twice her height. She had no fear or second thoughts about it, but all he can imagine is her little body crumbling to the ground in pain.
Is this what he puts Foggy through everytime he puts on his helmet?
He pales at the thought.
“Sweetheart, it wasn’t safe to do that. You could have gotten hurt,” he tells her, feeling like the biggest hypocrite in the world. He’s only very recently started caring about his own well being and he’s thrown himself in danger without thought so many times that he’s pretty sure even God has lost count.
“Kitties land on their feets!” Minnie tells him from across the room, rummaging in her bag of toys. He has no idea what she could possibly be looking for and at the moment, as long as she is safe, he doesn’t care.
He drags a hand over his face, very suddenly understanding why being a parent is a full time job. He is definitely going to add on to his plans to spoil you - Minnie is a sweet angel but you need more than praise for raising her.
She finds whatever she was looking for and runs back towards him with it held high over her head - it is plastic and by the smell of it, he’s pretty sure it came from her kitchen playset.
“I knows how to whisk, meow meow!”
Matt takes a deep breath to reset himself, then lets his affection and love for his daughter take over, “you do, do you?”
“Meow meow, yeah, I can whisk lots of things!” She waves the toy at him, clearly proud of herself, and he chuckles at her sweetness and eagerness. He wanted her help in the kitchen and he is certainly going to get it.
“Okay, then, Chef Miss Kitty, let's make some eggs.”
First thing first, he gets the coffee going. He switched to the brand you prefer the morning after your first time in his apartment and he’s made sure to memorize exactly how you take it so he can give you the perfect cup every time.
Next, he cracks eggs into a bowl while Minnie watches like a hawk, her toy whisk clenched tightly in her hand and waiting to do her job. He adds a dash of milk and as soon as he sets down the carton, his shirt is being tugged on so he can lift up his little angel - so he does.
Determined doesn’t even begin to describe what Matt witnesses. Minnie takes the task as seriously as a professional chef, hunched forward and silent as she works. There is a little pout on her lips and he has to latch onto his own professionalism so he won’t laugh.
There is no need for him to direct her - she was not telling tall tales about her abilities. She blends the eggs beautifully and when Matt senses there is no point in continuing to whisk, he kisses her cheek.
“I think you got them, sweetheart. They are perfect, thank you.”
“I love whisking,” she whispers to him like it is a secret and he takes note of it. He’s sure that when Minnie finally gets to meet Foggy’s parents, there will be lots of desserts in his future. Anna loves baking and loves grandkids and letting her have an afternoon with a toddler who loves to cook will probably be like an early Christmas.
She stays on his hip as toast is started and butter is dropped in the pan to melt. She keeps surprisingly quiet, only piping up to ask to switch her whisk for a spatula. She gets a real one as the time comes to start cooking the eggs.
“You have to let them bubble a little and start to become firm,” Matt directs, hoping his directions make sense. “When the parts touching the pan get solid, you have to push them out of the way so the liquidy part can cook, too. Got it?”
“Meow meow, got it, meow meow.”
He doesn’t know if she really understands what he is saying, but it is clear that you have let her stir the eggs before. She is gentle as she nudges things around, like she is aware too much will make a mess and again, she stays sharply focused, seemingly wanting to make your breakfast in bed as perfect as possible. He is quickly learning that tomfoolery is not tolerated in Chef Miss Kitty’s kitchen and he is more than fine with that. He thinks it is absolutely charming that she is so dedicated.
She sits up straighter when the eggs begin to firm and form into a runny scramble and Matt hums out soft praise, “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.”
“I knows how to make eggies, meow meow.”
“You sure do. Do you want to add the cheese now?”
“Meow meow, yes, please. Meow meow.”
He gives her another kiss and a minute later, Minnie is telling him the newly cheesy eggs are done and he sets her down so he can transfer everything to plates. She stays in his shadow but out from under his feet as the toast is buttered and cut, and coffee is poured. It is only after everything is ready to go that he realizes that he does not have a tray to properly present breakfast in bed.
He considers his options, then decides on just bringing the plate as is, with a dish towel under it to keep you from burning your hands. He’ll make sure he has the correct set up for the next time he does this - because he knows very well there will be a next time, and a time after that, and many more after that.
The moment Minnie steps out of his small kitchen area, her demeanor changes completely. She is back to being an excited toddler and Matt lets himself throw his head back and laugh as she takes off towards the bedroom. He follows after her, his heart swollen and glowing with love for both her and the woman who changed his life for the better. He prays this is one of the moments he will remember for the rest of his time on Earth and can replay in his mind over and over again.
This is literally one of the best things I've read about Matt. I'm in bed wishing I had a daughter like Minnie and that her father was Matt Murdock. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.
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Words: 4.4k
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It is a beautiful Sunday morning at the Bronx Zoo - the sun is shining, the weather is warm, and there is hardly a crowd to speak of. Tourist season is over, and the school year has just started, so all the locals who would be here with their kids are otherwise preoccupied. Navigating through the pathways has been a breeze and there has been no one to block your view of the animals.
Another perk from the lack of patrons is the opportunity for a unique interaction at one of the exhibits Minnie was the most excited to visit.
“You has…you have very pretty fur,” Mouse whispers to the massive lowland gorilla that is mere inches from her face. There is a thick glass barrier between them, but you can’t help but feel a little bit nervous, especially with how the great ape has her full attention on your daughter. Large soulful eyes are focused on your little one as she gives compliment after toddler compliment.
“It's a lot of colors and it looks really really soft,” Minnie continues on, nose practically smooshed flat against the glass. “I bets you gotta brush it lots. Mommy brushes my hair, but I can do it myself. Like a Big Girl.”
The gorilla responds by chewing on some leaves that she has in her hands. It is what she has been doing since she came down from the trees to sit right in front of you five minutes ago. This, of course, doesn’t deter Minnie at all and she asks, “Does your Mommy brush your hair, too?”
As she has her imaginary conversation, you steal a glance at Matt.
After you learned about his senses, you thought joining you at the zoo would be torture for him. Even though the exhibits are kept clean, you know they must smell awful and there are loud birds screeching everywhere. It is completely different from the city noises he must be used to, and you even packed ear plugs and ibuprofen for if it became too much, but to your surprise, he seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself.
Minnie has taken on her role as his Guide, excitedly explaining what each animal is and what they look like, to the best of her abilities - making you oh so proud. You’ve noticed that as your daughter takes in the sights, Matt will tilt his head minutely - his tell that he is intently listening to something. Occasionally, he’s asked a question - usually pointing to an animal Minnie did not describe and asking what it is. You’ve found lots of hidden creatures that way.
You cannot imagine what inputs he must be receiving from the gorilla in front of him. You know humans and great apes are closely related, but how does that come across to Matt? The smell must be different, but is he able to distinguish between her heartbeat and the heartbeat of someone observing her? Do her lungs sound human?
Can he tell if she’s sick or well taken care of? Is that something he can determine in an animal he has no history with?
He must sense you looking at him because he tilts his head towards you and grins. Your heart squeezes in your chest and your stomach does a sort of funny flip.
He is so handsome and charming, and you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. You weren’t prepared to get into a physical relationship with Matt, but you don’t want to roll back on it.
You like how touchy he has been all morning. It hasn’t been anything obscene or inappropriate, but his hand has found its way around your waist more than once. On the subway, standing in line, or even just watching the animals, if you were next to him, he’d wrap you up and pull you a little closer. His hand would rub up and down your side and each time you’d feel like a little picture-perfect family on an outing.
You haven’t kissed in front of Minnie, but you have both been sneaking them in - when you woke up, when you were making breakfast, when Mouse was preoccupied getting ready.
You feel giddy and like you belong in a teen romance movie. This is something you haven’t had in such a long time - or ever really - and you don’t want to ruin it by overthinking.
You made a deal with yourself that morning - you were going to enjoy your trip to the zoo with your family and you were not going to overanalyze sleeping with Matt. It will be a tomorrow problem.
Right now, you are going to soak in all the goodness that is happening - including the pleasant ache in your core from getting thoroughly fucked.
You break yourself out of your own head and take a small step, so you are properly beside Matt. You reach up and wrap your arm around his bicep, leaning into him a little as you ask, “Who would win in a fight - you or the gorilla?”
“Oh, the gorilla,” he whispers back. “She’s all muscle and teeth. One good whack would easily break bone and even I’ve heard the stories about angry primates. I’m not that reckless.”
You have to bite your lip to keep from smiling too much, then you lightly squeeze his arm and tease, “Exactly how reckless are you?”
You don’t realize the innuendo until the words leave your lips and then you can’t take it back. Matt’s grin only grows, and he ducks just slightly so he can nuzzle into your ear to purr, “would you like to find out?”
Your face heats up and you have to hide your face in his shoulder, so you don’t die from absolute embarrassment. He gently pulls his arm from your grasp so he can instead wrap it around you and hold you firm against him. He rocks you slightly and you conclude that yes, Matt is very much enjoying his time out at the zoo.
In front of you, the gorilla stuffs the last of her leaves in her mouth, chewing slowly as Minnie babbles away about hair care.
“..and if you braids it, it makes it super-duper wavy after,” she wisely tells her new friend, “You could be really poofy. Like a flower.” She pauses, then you watch her as she watches the great ape stand back up and start to walk away. You expect her to be sad, but instead, your sweet girl just calls out, “Okay, bye-bye, I love you!” before whirling around to beam up at you.
“Can we go see the mices now?” she asks, all sunshine and rainbows.
To your great amusement, Minnie is dead set on following the plan she made. She only wants to visit certain animals and she must see them in a certain sequence. She brought the map of the zoo you bought her all those months ago - the one she’s drawn all over and has practically memorized - and they are your marching orders. You and Matt are more than happy to follow her lead - especially because she does not want to see any of the birds, which saves you a lot of walking.
“Let’s go to the Mouse House,” Matt agrees.
You have to pull away from him to be able to walk and your little Mouse goes right for your hand so she can hold it. She has been extra good all day about holding your hand and staying by your side - loudly saying she’s a Big Girl and can follow all the rules. You’ve been very impressed with her determination and definitely plan to reward her for her behavior.
Matt falls into line beside you as you begin to lead the way, lightly grabbing at your elbow. You feel a tad bad for taking up so much space on the path, but luckily there is no one around.
“What did you think of the gorillas?” you ask as you make your way to the next exhibit.
“They’re amazing!” Mouse says with the biggest little grin, “She was really big and pretty and soft and went…she went,” she proceeds to make soft little grunts like you imagine a monkey would make, but you didn’t hear the gorilla make any noises beyond chewing.
“She really liked you, huh?” Matt teases with a little hum, his own smile as large as his daughter’s.
“She did!” Minnie absolutely preens, “She’s my favorite!”
Every animal has been her favorite, but you do think, for the moment, the gorilla does take the cake.
“You’re favorite, huh?” You muse, “I don’t know, I think the tiger was really cool.” The cat had been much larger and vibrantly colored than you expected, and you had been a little bit starstruck by the apex predator. You might just see if there are any tiger shirts in the gift shop.
“He was sleepy!” Minnie proclaims, and it is true - the tiger was enjoying a midmorning snooze.
“What about you, Matt, who has been your favorite?”
He makes a show of tilting his head back and forth as he thinks, “My favorite? I liked the elephants - I didn’t expect them to be that large and using their noses like that is…unique.”
“It’s called their trunk!” Mouse eagerly tells her father, repeating what the zookeeper told you. “They can use it…to… to …to… grab things and drink water!” To emphasize her point, she raises her free arm up to her face and mimics an elephant’s trunk waving around.
“That is impressive,” he says, “can you do that with your nose?”
Minnie halts, then screws up her face to try to wiggle her nose. She purses her lips and pushes them around, but she does not succeed in independently moving her cute little nose. She does not give up right away, proceeding with multiple attempts before declaring rather cheerily, “Nope!”
You both laugh at your daughter’s antics as you start walking again. As you get closer to your destination, your little one gets more and more excited - she takes bigger steps, and you can tell she wants to run towards the building.
At first, she thought one giant mouse lived in the Mouse House, but you explained it held lots of little houses for different types of rodents. Now, you think, she is determined to make sure all her tiny brethren are happy in their homes. She takes her role as Mouse Princess very seriously, after all.
Like the Congo Forest, the Mouse House has a scarce population of humans. You let go of your daughter’s hand once in the darkness of the building so she can run up to view the first set of new friends. Once she is thoroughly distracted and talking to the little creatures, Matt moves.
He lets go of your arm to slip behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. You rub at his forearm as you pull your phone out - you don’t want to miss any cute moments of Minnie with her subjects. As you bring up the camera app, Matt nuzzles at your neck, placing a sweet kiss there.
“Good day, so far?” He asks against you, and you can’t help but smile and duck your head a little. You aren’t used to affection, let alone public affection, and his attention makes you a bit dizzy.
“So far, so good,” you whisper in response. To distract yourself from how solid Matt is against your back and how he’s practically wrapped around you, you start tapping at your phone to get it to focus in the low light. “Are you having a good time?”
He hums into your skin, then gives another kiss, “the best time. Doesn’t smell nearly as bad as I thought it would and the animals seem well taken care of.”
“It’s AZA accredited,” you instantly chime, and he huffs against you. You did so much research about the zoo beforehand, so that you could answer any questions Minnie had. So far, she’s had zero.
“I don’t know what that means.”
You angle your phone to get a picture of Minnie and the enclosure she’s looking into, and whisper back, “It’s like the board that makes sure the zoos are humane and everything is done properly.”
He hums again, then buries his nose into the crook of your neck. You try to not shiver, but you do end up pressing back into his hold as you watch your daughter. You fall into a pleasant silence, swaying slightly in Matt’s arms, as Minnie moves between the different displays. She has no apparent interest in learning the types of animals she’s looking at - she goes right into talking to them. When she gets a little too far away, you gently guide Matt down the hallway, all while he stays wrapped around you.
“I like your feetsies,” Mouse tells an elephant shrew, and you turn on your camera to record her interrogate the little creature. “How many toes do you have? I can…I see…I see three toes. Do you have three toes? I gots five. But they go in shoes. You don’t haves shoes. Where are your shoes?”
You and Matt follow Minnie all through the Mouse House for almost thirty minutes. You let her take her time - you are in no rush to go back out into the heat, and you want her to not only enjoy herself, but tire herself out. She’ll get a burst of energy after lunch, but by the time you leave for the day, you hope to be a zonked-out toddler.
At the last of the exhibits, Matt gently nips at your throat before mumbling against it, “I have a surprise after this.”
You have no idea what he could possibly have up his sleeve, but whatever it is, it is making him start to grin and get a bit of cockiness to his voice. So, to tease him right back, you play dumb.
“After this?”
“After the Mouse House,” he confirms, squeezing you and rocking you in place. You start to smile at his teasing and let yourself enjoy it.
You hum, then begin to trace your fingers over one of the hands on your hips as you question, “A surprise? After the Mouse House?”
“A surprise after the Mouse House.”
That, of course, gets Mouse’s attention. She whirls around, eyes going wide with toddler excitement as she asks, “A surprise?”
“After the Mouse House,” Matt repeats, a mix of pride and smugness in his words. You can tell he is enjoying this interaction and that funny feeling in your heart and stomach return.
“Is it a pony?!”
You pull away from Matt just as he starts to laugh, and as you do Minnie hurries over to take your place. He scoops her up into her arms, and with all the fondness in the world, tells her, “No, it’s not a pony.”
She dramatically flops over his shoulders with a big pout, then, like it was all a joke, hurriedly moves to hug him around his neck and with pure toddler innocence tell him, “You’re better than a pony!”
Always ready for their sweet moments, you snap multiple pictures as Matt hugs his daughter back tightly and you just barely hear him whisper back, “I think you’re better than a pony, too.”
As always, it takes him a few moments to release Minnie and set her back down. She instantly latches onto his hand and begins to shake it vigorously, “I wanna know the surprise!”
Matt is quick to concede to her demands, “Okay, okay, sweetheart. Let’s go to the surprise.”
You put your phone back into your purse so you can slip over to the pair and offer your arm to Matt. He takes it just above your elbow, and you start towards the exit of the Mouse House, Minnie skipping along on the other side of Matt.
You’ve not walked with Matt before where he is the one to lead you, but you are sure to be in step with him, so no one takes a second look. His cane is folded up and tucked into your purse, so you don’t think anyone would guess he is blind just by looking at him, but your anxiety tells you someone is always watching and one little slip up will have people questioning you.
Once out in the sunshine, Matt directs you back towards the gorillas again. You are confused about what could possibly be back that way that you don’t already know about, but you trust him.
“For your surprise,” he says to Minnie as you walk, “you have to be quiet, okay? We can't be loud and attract other people because this surprise is a secret.”
That has you even more curious about what could possibly be going on, but you focus on your daughter’s reaction to the request. You know she knows what a secret is, but you don’t remember if you’ve ever asked her to keep a secret before.
Mouse’s free hand goes into her mouth as she thinks over Matt’s request, and you try to not gag. Her fingers must be covered in all sorts of germs, and you should have been more on top of sanitizing them. A nice lesson in hindsight.
Moments later, she drops her hand, and she looks up to Matt and squints suspiciously, “can Mommy know the secret?”
Pride streaks through you at her question and you might get a little bit teary eyed. She never fails to amaze you with how her mind works and what information she takes in. The fact she’s aware she shouldn’t keep secrets from you is probably the highlight of your week - Matt eating you out included.
“Of course, Mommy can know the secret,” Matt tells her instantly, “We should not keep any secrets from Mommy. It’s important she knows everything so she can keep us safe and happy.”
As he says that, he squeezes your arm a little and you know he is talking about himself as well. You remember all the times he’s told you he doesn’t want to keep anything from you, and you know he’s telling the truth. He’s been very open with you about everything, even if it has taken some time for everything to rise to the surface. You don’t blame him for that at all - the things he keeps close to the chest are pretty important and you more than understand him not telling you on day one.
But he did tell you, and he has been honest about not being ready to divulge everything just yet, and that is what matters.
“Mommy keeps us safe and happy,” Minnie mimics and you have a feeling that is going to be added to her repeated phrases.
“Mommy keeps us safe and happy,” Matt repeats, then adds, “Can we be quiet, though, so other people don’t know?”
Mouse nods and you have a feeling that whatever Matt has planned is going to get her extremely worked up.
You end up in a very secluded inlet, away from the main path, surrounded by trees, and part of you wonders if you are meant to be able to come to this spot. There is no one else around and you don’t know what sort of surprise Matt could possibly have that requires you to come here.
Your questions are answered only seconds later, when a friendly voice comes from above you.
“Hi, there!”
You jerk your head up, and hanging there upside down from a tree, is Spider-Man.
Your daughter loses her fucking mind.
It’s like it is in slow motion - Minnie gasps with her whole body before dropping Matt’s hand. She turns to latch onto his pants, instead, and begins to pull on them over and over with enough force you think she’ll rip them. You don’t know if she remembers that she’s supposed to be quiet or if she’s so excited she can no longer vocalize, but she starts to whisper-scream.
You try to not go slack-jaw in your own amazement as the vigilante lets go of his web and drops to the ground right in front of your daughter, doing a backflip in the process.
“That’s me!” Spider-Man declares, and he sounds way younger than you thought he would. “I heard it was your birthday, so I had to come and say ‘Hi’!”
You rip your eyes away from the hero to stare at Matt and he looks like he is trying to not look smug as hell. You have no idea how he pulled this off - this is the real Spider-Man. The fake ones can’t hang from webs and sneak into zoos.
Does he work with Spider-Man when he’s out as Daredevil? And did he actually request for the man to come say Happy Birthday to Minnie? Does that mean he knows who Spider-Man is behind the mask? And vice versa?
“It’s my birthday!” Minnie chokes out and she sounds like she is about to start crying. You know she loves the hero, but you did not think he would get such an intense reaction. You turn your gaze back to her, your own excitement growing in your belly.
“Happy Birthday, Minnie!” Spider-Man tells her in the cheeriest voice, before crouching down and throwing open his arms, “Do you want a hug?”
He barely finishes getting the words out before Mouse is letting go of Matt to launch herself at him. He wraps her up in a hug and she just clings on. You want so badly to take a picture, but you respect that this is a secret meeting just for your baby.
You’ll just have to commit every moment to memory.
Matt has let go of your arm, so you turn so you can grab onto his bicep again. You lean against him and let yourself grin like an idiot as you watch your daughter with her hero.
“Your Dad told me that you’re really smart and like to learn new things,” Spider-Man says to the top of Mouse’s head. You wonder exactly how much information about your family was exchanged, but that’s something you can review later.
Minnie just barely nods against the man’s chest, and you can hear her start to talk, muffled against his suit, “I knows my ABCs and how to count ands I can do one plus one.”
“You can do one plus one?!”
“Elmo taughts me,” she explains in the sweetest and watery voice, “Its two.”
“That’s amazing,” Spider-Man tells her, “Keep watching Sesame Street, it has a lot of good lessons. Do you like Beaker and Dr. Honeydew from the Muppets? They were my favorites when I was little like you.”
Minnie squirms against Spider-Man and you expect her to pull away, but apparently, she is just getting more comfortable, because she nuzzles back into him and goes, “Meep, Meep.”
You laugh into Matt’s shoulder, overwhelmed with how sweet she is. Matt gently pulls his arm from you so he can yet again hold you close. You hand moves from his bicep to his chest, and you curl your fingers into his shirt, over his heart. You can’t tear your eyes away from your daughter to look at his expression, but you have a feeling it is a lot like yours.
“That’s right, ‘meep, meep, meep, MEEP,’” the vigilante does a good Beaker impression, causing a round of giggles. “Well, because you are so smart and your Dad is a pretty cool guy, I got you something I think Dr. Honeydew and Beaker would approve of.”
Your eyes go wide at the statement, and you cannot believe what you heard - Spider-Man, the famous New York vigilante, got your daughter a birthday gift?
Apparently, Minnie can’t believe it either, as she pulls back just a little so she can look up at him, and asks in the tiniest voice, “A presents?”
“A present!” He explains, then, so fast you barely see him do it, he flicks out a hand and shoots a string of web up into the trees where he has been waiting. Then he pulls and a box comes flying back at him. He expertly catches it, and you can see it is wrapped in blue wrapping paper that has white sparkly snowflakes all over it - clearly Christmas themed. You don’t think Minnie cares at all, because when it is held out to her, her little brown eyes just get so big.
“For you! Happy Birthday!”
Mouse looks back at you for permission and you quickly nod. She delicately takes the gift and once it is fully in her grasp, tears into it. As soon as it is free of its prison, she holds it up in triumph, “A mibo-scope!”
It is indeed a miniature microscope - at least that is the main picture on the box. You think it is one of those ‘Baby’s first science kit’ type things and you just know you are going to spend so much time over the next week hunched over it with Minnie.
“What do you say, sweetheart?” Matt gently prompts and she instantly throws herself back into Spider-Man’s chest. She drops the box in the process, but the vigilante has lightning-fast reflexes and catches it before it hits the ground. He sets it aside before properly hugging your daughter again.
“Thank you, Spidey-Man! You’re…you’re the bestest! Bestest-bestest! I loves you!”
“Aw, thank you! I love you, too!”
There is a gentle pressure to the top of your head, and you realize Matt has turned his so he can press his lips there. You shuffle even closer to him, tightening your grip on his shirt.
As you watch your daughter hug her favorite super-hero, you realize you have never been this happy before in your life. Everything in this moment is perfect. You would not change anything at all, and you do not think you would change anything that lead up to this moment of time. You wish and pray you could trap the day in a bottle and hold it in your heart forever.
You and your precious Winifred Love are blessed that not only is Matthew Murdock a good man, but he is also a good father.
---
a/n:
And that concludes Season 1 of 'and then I met you'!
Next, we are onto Season 2 and diving into the Sokovia Accords and how it will affect our perfect little family.
Special thanks to @ebathory997 for their help with information about the Bronx Zoo and special shout out to @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @she-likesorchids and @loveroftoomanyfandoms for all of their amazing support <3 You guys are amazing and I could not have written any of this without y'all.
okay so you know how Matt's other senses are heightened cause he can't see?
Well like... what if his sense of touch is super heightened .. down there. Like he gets overstimulated in bed super easily and becomes a whimpering mess because he's so sensitive even through his own clothes.
Just an idea I thought was fun jjjjjj
♥️
Matt Murdock x fem!Reader • 18+ MDNI
𝒮𝑜 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Explicit Sexual Content: Oral Sex, Sexual Overstimulation.
•
Summary: You explore for the first time just how sensitive Matt really is.
Word Count: 2,188 • Masterlist
You’d been dating Matthew Murdock for a while now.
He was nice. He was caring, thoughtful, sweet and definitely easy in the eyes.
He took you on dates around the city, made an effort to host you at his apartment, cooking for you.
You liked him. A lot.
One thing you noticed very quickly was that Matt was very receptive to touch.
It made sense, you supposed, the other senses start overcompensating for losing one, but something about the way Matt reacted was different.
You noticed it when you first started going in dates, how he’d always freeze a little when you accidentally brushed your skin to his, which would have maybe offended you, if it weren’t for the fact you felt him suppressing an actual shudder when you kissed him for the first time.
Then, one night, after a cozy night in with wine and take away, you ended up sat on his lap on his sofa.
Both of you were kissing deeply, tongues tangling and tensions rising, and your hands went up to curl in his hair. This time, Matt moaned. Just a small, deep sound he tried to hold back, but you heard it clear as day.
Matt froze, embarrassed and cleared his throat as though trying to pretend that was why he made such a noise, so you did it again. Lightly dragging your nails over his scalp this time.
He had nowhere to hide as his body involuntarily shuddered, eyes starting to roll back as he moaned again, louder this time.
He couldn’t hide the way his sensitive cock was rapidly filling out underneath you either.
The two of you had yet to sexual together, but you could feel this was becoming the night you’d start to.
The pure tension between the two of you was rising and the fact you kept using his weakness of touch to your advantage didn’t seem to be helping.
“Fuck” Matt breathed out lowly as you softly bit his bottom lip between your teeth, the slight sting making hip buck his hips up into you.
The feeling of his rough underwear being pressed firmly against the leaking, flushed tip made him let out a little whine in the back of his throat.
“You’re so sensitive Matty” you whisper sultry voice, before starting to kiss along his stubbled jaw, and Matt bucks his hip again when you suck at his pulse point, already breathing hard.
All he can do is whine again at your words, and nod harshly in agreement as his head falls back against the couch.
Slowly, your fingertips dip underneath the hem of his shirt, featherlight touches gliding over the tensing abs, higher and higher till you took the shirt off completely.
Matt’s own hands were fisted tightly in your top, as if trying to ground himself while you attack his senses with pleasure.
Returning your hands to Matt’s chest, you explored his sculpted body with your fingers and lips, tracing along the scars and ridges of him. The supposedly intimidating man beneath you was openly panting now, hips rocking like he couldn’t help it in a slow steady rhythm against your rapidly warming core.
His sounds, god his noises. He’s so whiny, whimpering and moaning as you touch his perked nipples, letting out loud gasps when you rock your hips ever so slightly against the bulge between you both.
Suddenly, Matt’s hands fly to your waist to still you as you rock just once on his lap a little harder.
“Fuck- wait- I’m- I’m gonna come” Matt whimpers out, barely managing to get the words out between his heaving breaths.
You can’t hold back the little giggle that escaped your lips at the sight of him. He already looks wrecked.
“I’ve barely even touched you Matty” you tease gently, continuing your motions again anyway.
Matt whines again, loud and high pitched this time at the friction on his ungodly sensitive erection. His hips are twitching at the sensation, half wanting to go towards it and half wanting to pull away, already overwhelmed. He’s gonna come in his fucking pants any second.
“I-I’m- fuck- I’m so sensitive baby- please” Matt whimpers, his hands dipping underneath your shirt to hold your waist tightly instead, so tight it makes your skin bulge between his fingers slightly. He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for at this point.
At the same time, you pinch his nipple and rock your hips down hard into him, and your reward is wonderful.
Matt keens, mouth open wide as his orgasm rushes through him, a deep groan which tapers into a whine as you keep moving through it, even after he’s stopped filling his own underwear with his hot spend.
Even just the feeling of his own come against his overstimulated flesh makes his body jerk as it’s trapped against his overstimulated skin, and he’s a complete mess now. You hadn’t even gotten naked yet.
As Matt’s chest heaved, trying to come down a little from his high, you strip your own top, and large, calloused, scarred hands waste no time slipping up your waist to play with your breasts. One grabbed a handful of your flesh, while the other teased your hardening nipple, making you hum in pleasure.
Leaning forward, you kiss Matt again, which he heatedly returns through his rough breathing, his hands exploring all the newly uncovered skin.
Pulling away, you duck to whisper in his ear.
“Bedroom Matty” you say, before pressing a kiss behind his lobe.
“Fuck- you’re gonna kill me sweetheart” Matt groans deeply as he drops his head to your shoulder, a contrast to the pretty high pitched whines he was just making.
Lifting you like it was absolutely nothing, Matt carries you to his bedroom. He gasps slightly as the material of his clothes brushes against his still overly sensitive dick. He needs to take these fucking clothes off.
Gently laying you down on his soft, silk bed, Matt stands above you before pulling down the sleep shorts you had on, along with your underwear.
The way he drops to his knees makes your breath hitch, heat rushing to your face as you watch him inhale your scent right from the source.
“You smell so fucking good” Matt groans out roughly, his cock throbbing as you filled his senses.
“Matt-“ you start, before you cry out as he lurches forward, burying his face in your wet cunt like he can’t resist it anymore. Your back arches as your head slams down into the bed at the unexpected pleasure rushing through you.
His tongue is everywhere at first, tasting anything you’ll give him before he slowly starts to thrust the muscle into your core, his nose brushing against your clit. Deep groans are escaping him as he eats you like no man has ever done before.
Where you can’t see, Matt has shed his own trousers, finally freeing his raw cock from the confines of his underwear. Even the cold air feels like too much against his overstimulated length, steadily leaking pre come still, onto the floor between his knees.
Under Matt’s magic tongue, you come with his name on your lips in no time, hands gripping his hair harshly which makes him moan into your dripping cunt, the vibrations making your toes curl.
As you try to even your breathing, Matt eventually detaches himself from your heat and stands again, with the intent to crawl onto the bed over you, but you move towards him unexpectedly.
“Sit” you order as you spin him, before firmly pushing him backwards till the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he falls down onto it. You know you wouldn’t be able to move this brick house of a man without him wanting to go, even if you tried.
Matt swallows roughly as he sits on the edge of the bed, his hands coming to rest on your waist as you step between his legs.
“You’re driving me crazy” Matt all but whispers as his hands move up and down your body. Your own hands run through his hair again, tugging slightly to make him groan, before you drop to your knees.
As much as you were wanting to fuck him when you were sat on his sofa, now your only goal is to make him lose his mind. You’re so ungodly intrigued by his reactions and you want to see what else you can do to him.
The sight that greets you is sinful. Matt’s heavy cock is flushed dark, leaking obscenely, half covered in his previous release and is twitching under your attention.
“Baby you don’t have to-“ Matt starts but you cut him off with your hand wrapping round the base of his length. The breath catches in his throat at the sensation, before letting out a little moan.
“I want to” you say like it’s obvious, because it should be, before you press your warm tongue to his sensitive, leaking tip, tasting his musky pre on your tastebuds.
Matt’s whole body jerks immediately as he collapses fully onto the bed, with his back meeting the sheets, as another one of those pretty little whimpers escapes his mouth.
Wow, he really is so sensitive. You hadn’t even started yet and the way he’s throbbing in your hand makes you think he’s about to come again.
Just to test your theory a little, you pull back and gently blow cold air over the flushed head, and Matt chokes on his next sound, before his hand flies down to wrap around you’re at the base of his cock and squeezes, hard.
“Baby, please” he outright whines, hips thrusting a little, despite the fact he was the one who cut off his own orgasm. He’s already sweaty, flushed down to his chest as he fists the bed sheets so hard with his free hand that his knuckles are white.
“Please what Matty?” You ask innocently, moving his hand away, which swiftly returns to the death grip on the sheets.
As he opens his mouth to answer, you press your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, right against that bit that’s sensitive on most guys anyway, but it’s clearly even more intense for Matt.
His whole body goes tight, abs tensing, his back arching like he’s just had electricity running through him as a broken whimper comes from his lips unrestrained.
The rest of your mouth encloses over his leaking tip, tongue massaging the underside and within seconds, before he can even warn you, Matt moans roughly as he comes in your mouth. Warm spend coats your tongue, hitting the back of your throat as you swallow it down, able to react quick enough to work him through his orgasm.
Matt breathes heavily at his release, but you don’t stop.
The prettiest broken whine you’ve ever heard comes out of his mouth as you continue to move your mouth up and down his cock even after he came, taking him in deeper and deeper till he hits the back of your throat.
He’s trying so hard to stay still for you, to take it, but he can’t help the way his muscles are jerking and twitching at the intense, painful pleasure sensation of your mouth.
Noises are falling from his lips now in a way he can’t control, whining and whimpering as you assault his most sensitive part with your tongue.
The words fuck, please and your name are the only words you’re able to pick up from the sounds coming from him.
As you hollow your cheeks around his throbbing length, Matt starts to breath fast and heavy, whining high on every exhale.
“Fuck- fuck- fuckfuckfuckfuck- oh g-god” is all he manages to moan out before he’s filling your mouth once again, coming with loud, broken cry.
This time, you’re merciful and you pull off after working every drop from him, letting Matt relax into the bed again.
He’s breathing heavy, borderline hyperventilating as he tries to catch his breath. His entire muscled body is covered in sweat, and his face is flushed red. His hair is sticking to his forehead and he still hasn’t let go of the intense grip he has on the sheets. His cock slowly starts to soften against his stomach.
“I don’t- don’t think I can go again, ’m sorry” he pants out, swallowing between words as his voice cracks, mouth dry. You smile softly as you climb up the bed and lay next to him, hands playing with his hair but comfortingly this time.
“I know baby, you did so good, such a good boy for me, I wasn’t expecting you to keep going after that” you smile before pressing a sweet kiss to his warm cheek.
Matt hums at your words, before lifting his arm and pulling you against him. You lay there in the afterglow, listening to his breathing and heart beat even out, and before you know it, he’s already asleep.
Tomorrow night, you plan to having whimpering and whining again, but underneath you as you ride your good boy’s overstimulated cock till he cries.
This is my first request so thank you I hope it’s okay! 🫶🏻 this was not supposed to be this long lmao, I only meant to do a little drabble and it just kept going, and I meant to only focus on Matt in this but I fear it’s not Matt Murdock smut if he isn’t a munch 😌 Thank you anon for your idea, I love overstimulated Matt sm ❤️
okay so you know how Matt's other senses are heightened cause he can't see?
Well like... what if his sense of touch is super heightened .. down there. Like he gets overstimulated in bed super easily and becomes a whimpering mess because he's so sensitive even through his own clothes.
Just an idea I thought was fun jjjjjj
♥️
Matt Murdock x fem!Reader • 18+ MDNI
𝒮𝑜 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Explicit Sexual Content: Oral Sex, Sexual Overstimulation.
•
Summary: You explore for the first time just how sensitive Matt really is.
Word Count: 2,188 • Masterlist
You’d been dating Matthew Murdock for a while now.
He was nice. He was caring, thoughtful, sweet and definitely easy in the eyes.
He took you on dates around the city, made an effort to host you at his apartment, cooking for you.
You liked him. A lot.
One thing you noticed very quickly was that Matt was very receptive to touch.
It made sense, you supposed, the other senses start overcompensating for losing one, but something about the way Matt reacted was different.
You noticed it when you first started going in dates, how he’d always freeze a little when you accidentally brushed your skin to his, which would have maybe offended you, if it weren’t for the fact you felt him suppressing an actual shudder when you kissed him for the first time.
Then, one night, after a cozy night in with wine and take away, you ended up sat on his lap on his sofa.
Both of you were kissing deeply, tongues tangling and tensions rising, and your hands went up to curl in his hair. This time, Matt moaned. Just a small, deep sound he tried to hold back, but you heard it clear as day.
Matt froze, embarrassed and cleared his throat as though trying to pretend that was why he made such a noise, so you did it again. Lightly dragging your nails over his scalp this time.
He had nowhere to hide as his body involuntarily shuddered, eyes starting to roll back as he moaned again, louder this time.
He couldn’t hide the way his sensitive cock was rapidly filling out underneath you either.
The two of you had yet to sexual together, but you could feel this was becoming the night you’d start to.
The pure tension between the two of you was rising and the fact you kept using his weakness of touch to your advantage didn’t seem to be helping.
“Fuck” Matt breathed out lowly as you softly bit his bottom lip between your teeth, the slight sting making hip buck his hips up into you.
The feeling of his rough underwear being pressed firmly against the leaking, flushed tip made him let out a little whine in the back of his throat.
“You’re so sensitive Matty” you whisper sultry voice, before starting to kiss along his stubbled jaw, and Matt bucks his hip again when you suck at his pulse point, already breathing hard.
All he can do is whine again at your words, and nod harshly in agreement as his head falls back against the couch.
Slowly, your fingertips dip underneath the hem of his shirt, featherlight touches gliding over the tensing abs, higher and higher till you took the shirt off completely.
Matt’s own hands were fisted tightly in your top, as if trying to ground himself while you attack his senses with pleasure.
Returning your hands to Matt’s chest, you explored his sculpted body with your fingers and lips, tracing along the scars and ridges of him. The supposedly intimidating man beneath you was openly panting now, hips rocking like he couldn’t help it in a slow steady rhythm against your rapidly warming core.
His sounds, god his noises. He’s so whiny, whimpering and moaning as you touch his perked nipples, letting out loud gasps when you rock your hips ever so slightly against the bulge between you both.
Suddenly, Matt’s hands fly to your waist to still you as you rock just once on his lap a little harder.
“Fuck- wait- I’m- I’m gonna come” Matt whimpers out, barely managing to get the words out between his heaving breaths.
You can’t hold back the little giggle that escaped your lips at the sight of him. He already looks wrecked.
“I’ve barely even touched you Matty” you tease gently, continuing your motions again anyway.
Matt whines again, loud and high pitched this time at the friction on his ungodly sensitive erection. His hips are twitching at the sensation, half wanting to go towards it and half wanting to pull away, already overwhelmed. He’s gonna come in his fucking pants any second.
“I-I’m- fuck- I’m so sensitive baby- please” Matt whimpers, his hands dipping underneath your shirt to hold your waist tightly instead, so tight it makes your skin bulge between his fingers slightly. He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for at this point.
At the same time, you pinch his nipple and rock your hips down hard into him, and your reward is wonderful.
Matt keens, mouth open wide as his orgasm rushes through him, a deep groan which tapers into a whine as you keep moving through it, even after he’s stopped filling his own underwear with his hot spend.
Even just the feeling of his own come against his overstimulated flesh makes his body jerk as it’s trapped against his overstimulated skin, and he’s a complete mess now. You hadn’t even gotten naked yet.
As Matt’s chest heaved, trying to come down a little from his high, you strip your own top, and large, calloused, scarred hands waste no time slipping up your waist to play with your breasts. One grabbed a handful of your flesh, while the other teased your hardening nipple, making you hum in pleasure.
Leaning forward, you kiss Matt again, which he heatedly returns through his rough breathing, his hands exploring all the newly uncovered skin.
Pulling away, you duck to whisper in his ear.
“Bedroom Matty” you say, before pressing a kiss behind his lobe.
“Fuck- you’re gonna kill me sweetheart” Matt groans deeply as he drops his head to your shoulder, a contrast to the pretty high pitched whines he was just making.
Lifting you like it was absolutely nothing, Matt carries you to his bedroom. He gasps slightly as the material of his clothes brushes against his still overly sensitive dick. He needs to take these fucking clothes off.
Gently laying you down on his soft, silk bed, Matt stands above you before pulling down the sleep shorts you had on, along with your underwear.
The way he drops to his knees makes your breath hitch, heat rushing to your face as you watch him inhale your scent right from the source.
“You smell so fucking good” Matt groans out roughly, his cock throbbing as you filled his senses.
“Matt-“ you start, before you cry out as he lurches forward, burying his face in your wet cunt like he can’t resist it anymore. Your back arches as your head slams down into the bed at the unexpected pleasure rushing through you.
His tongue is everywhere at first, tasting anything you’ll give him before he slowly starts to thrust the muscle into your core, his nose brushing against your clit. Deep groans are escaping him as he eats you like no man has ever done before.
Where you can’t see, Matt has shed his own trousers, finally freeing his raw cock from the confines of his underwear. Even the cold air feels like too much against his overstimulated length, steadily leaking pre come still, onto the floor between his knees.
Under Matt’s magic tongue, you come with his name on your lips in no time, hands gripping his hair harshly which makes him moan into your dripping cunt, the vibrations making your toes curl.
As you try to even your breathing, Matt eventually detaches himself from your heat and stands again, with the intent to crawl onto the bed over you, but you move towards him unexpectedly.
“Sit” you order as you spin him, before firmly pushing him backwards till the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he falls down onto it. You know you wouldn’t be able to move this brick house of a man without him wanting to go, even if you tried.
Matt swallows roughly as he sits on the edge of the bed, his hands coming to rest on your waist as you step between his legs.
“You’re driving me crazy” Matt all but whispers as his hands move up and down your body. Your own hands run through his hair again, tugging slightly to make him groan, before you drop to your knees.
As much as you were wanting to fuck him when you were sat on his sofa, now your only goal is to make him lose his mind. You’re so ungodly intrigued by his reactions and you want to see what else you can do to him.
The sight that greets you is sinful. Matt’s heavy cock is flushed dark, leaking obscenely, half covered in his previous release and is twitching under your attention.
“Baby you don’t have to-“ Matt starts but you cut him off with your hand wrapping round the base of his length. The breath catches in his throat at the sensation, before letting out a little moan.
“I want to” you say like it’s obvious, because it should be, before you press your warm tongue to his sensitive, leaking tip, tasting his musky pre on your tastebuds.
Matt’s whole body jerks immediately as he collapses fully onto the bed, with his back meeting the sheets, as another one of those pretty little whimpers escapes his mouth.
Wow, he really is so sensitive. You hadn’t even started yet and the way he’s throbbing in your hand makes you think he’s about to come again.
Just to test your theory a little, you pull back and gently blow cold air over the flushed head, and Matt chokes on his next sound, before his hand flies down to wrap around you’re at the base of his cock and squeezes, hard.
“Baby, please” he outright whines, hips thrusting a little, despite the fact he was the one who cut off his own orgasm. He’s already sweaty, flushed down to his chest as he fists the bed sheets so hard with his free hand that his knuckles are white.
“Please what Matty?” You ask innocently, moving his hand away, which swiftly returns to the death grip on the sheets.
As he opens his mouth to answer, you press your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, right against that bit that’s sensitive on most guys anyway, but it’s clearly even more intense for Matt.
His whole body goes tight, abs tensing, his back arching like he’s just had electricity running through him as a broken whimper comes from his lips unrestrained.
The rest of your mouth encloses over his leaking tip, tongue massaging the underside and within seconds, before he can even warn you, Matt moans roughly as he comes in your mouth. Warm spend coats your tongue, hitting the back of your throat as you swallow it down, able to react quick enough to work him through his orgasm.
Matt breathes heavily at his release, but you don’t stop.
The prettiest broken whine you’ve ever heard comes out of his mouth as you continue to move your mouth up and down his cock even after he came, taking him in deeper and deeper till he hits the back of your throat.
He’s trying so hard to stay still for you, to take it, but he can’t help the way his muscles are jerking and twitching at the intense, painful pleasure sensation of your mouth.
Noises are falling from his lips now in a way he can’t control, whining and whimpering as you assault his most sensitive part with your tongue.
The words fuck, please and your name are the only words you’re able to pick up from the sounds coming from him.
As you hollow your cheeks around his throbbing length, Matt starts to breath fast and heavy, whining high on every exhale.
“Fuck- fuck- fuckfuckfuckfuck- oh g-god” is all he manages to moan out before he’s filling your mouth once again, coming with loud, broken cry.
This time, you’re merciful and you pull off after working every drop from him, letting Matt relax into the bed again.
He’s breathing heavy, borderline hyperventilating as he tries to catch his breath. His entire muscled body is covered in sweat, and his face is flushed red. His hair is sticking to his forehead and he still hasn’t let go of the intense grip he has on the sheets. His cock slowly starts to soften against his stomach.
“I don’t- don’t think I can go again, ’m sorry” he pants out, swallowing between words as his voice cracks, mouth dry. You smile softly as you climb up the bed and lay next to him, hands playing with his hair but comfortingly this time.
“I know baby, you did so good, such a good boy for me, I wasn’t expecting you to keep going after that” you smile before pressing a sweet kiss to his warm cheek.
Matt hums at your words, before lifting his arm and pulling you against him. You lay there in the afterglow, listening to his breathing and heart beat even out, and before you know it, he’s already asleep.
Tomorrow night, you plan to having whimpering and whining again, but underneath you as you ride your good boy’s overstimulated cock till he cries.
This is my first request so thank you I hope it’s okay! 🫶🏻 this was not supposed to be this long lmao, I only meant to do a little drabble and it just kept going, and I meant to only focus on Matt in this but I fear it’s not Matt Murdock smut if he isn’t a munch 😌 Thank you anon for your idea, I love overstimulated Matt sm ❤️
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artist!reader x sugardaddy!matt
chapter summary: Matt just wants to make sure you're okay.
series warnings: 18+ for smut, canon-typical violence, age gap, huge wealth gap, AFAB reader, slow burn, semi-retired daredevil
word count: 2.2k
"I'm tired, can't think of anything and want only to lay my face in your lap, feel your hand on my head and remain like that through all eternity."
- Franz Kafka
The apartment was unbearable without you in it. Matt accepted that sleep would not come sometime around 3:17 in the morning.
It was still noisy. Traffic outside. Radiators humming incessantly, the noise only worsening his migraine. Distant sirens. Neighbors arguing three floors down. The problem was that the apartment no longer sounded alive, and your heartbeat wasn’t there.
Even Dilly sounded confused. The kitten had spent most of the night wandering the penthouse looking for you, her tiny bell jingling softly through empty rooms before eventually curling into your side of the bed.
Every time he closed his eyes all he could remember was you sitting on the bed, the hidden room open behind you, and the muscles pulling your face into that pained look when you asked, would you have just retired one day and never told me about any of it?
By noon the next day, Matt finally broke. He told himself he only wanted to know if you were okay. That was all. He wouldn’t corner you. Wouldn’t push or manipulate the situation. He just… Needed to know. So eventually he found himself outside walking to your bar with winter air biting sharply against his face while snow drifted lightly through Hell’s Kitchen. You'd told him the day before that you had the opening shift today.
Matt almost turned around twice. Because what if you got upset? What if you saw him come in and hid? Oh, God, what if you cried again? He didn’t think he could survive that right now. He remained lost in his thoughts the whole walk over, and eventually he stepped inside anyway.
The familiar warmth of the bar hit him immediately along with citrus, alcohol, and polished wood. And underneath all of it was a certain absence. Matt felt it instantly. No heartbeat he knew better than his own. No laugh. No movement towards or even away from him. Nothing. His chest tightened painfully with absolute dread.
The bar itself sounded off without you there. Quieter somehow. Less bright. A couple staff members greeted him with familiarity. Matt answered automatically without really hearing them. He moved toward the bar slowly and sat down in his usual spot like muscle memory dragged him there against his will.
For several seconds no one said anything. Then Luis approached. Matt could hear the hesitation in his footsteps immediately. Concern laced with a careful curiosity. “Hey, man.” Matt swallowed once. “Hey.” God. He sounded terrible. Luis definitely noticed too because his tone softened immediately afterward. “You okay?”
No. Matt almost laughed. Instead he just nodded once automatically even though they both knew it was bullshit. Luis watched him quietly for another second before finally asking, “You want the usual?” Matt stared blankly ahead. “…Please.”
A quiet pause. Then the familiar sounds of Luis building the drink, ice, glass, the liquor pouring, orange peel being twisted. Matt listened to it numbly. You should’ve been here. You should’ve been correcting Luis’s measurements dramatically while making comically large but presumably beautiful garnish pieces and laughing at your own jokes. The grief hit him so hard suddenly that he had to grip the edge of the bar.
Luis set the drink down gently in front of him. Some consolation. Matt’s throat tightened unexpectedly at the presence of it. “Thanks.”
For a while neither of them spoke. Matt didn't touch the drink. Mostly he just listened helplessly to the shape of the room around him trying not to think about how different it sounded without you. Then finally Luis sighed softly. “…Dani took her outta town.”
Matt went perfectly still. His pulse slammed into overdrive. “Look,” Luis added quickly, “I don’t know what happened between you two. And I’m definitely not gonna ask.” Matt swallowed hard. But your name, and the confirmation you were gone, already felt catastrophic. “Is she okay?” he asked quietly. The words slipped out before he could stop them, his tone betraying how desperate he felt.
Luis hesitated. Matt heard the uncertainty immediately. “…She seemed really upset when she called.” That physically hurt. Matt looked down hard at the untouched drink in front of him. Because of course you were. You’d sounded shattered walking out. His chest ached.
“Did... Did she say where she went?” he asked after a moment. Luis leaned against the counter slightly. “I think overseas?”
Overseas.
Jesus.
Not just space, but an entire ocean between you two. Luis must’ve heard something in Matt’s sharp inhale because his voice softened again afterward. “For what it’s worth…”
Matt looked up slightly and Luis sighed. “It's obvious she still loves you.” Matt stopped breathing. Hearing someone else say that after last night felt almost unbearable. Luis rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “She wouldn’t even let anybody imply you cheated. She got so mad at me when i asked,” he chuckled dryly. Matt shut his eyes immediately. God. That hurt worse somehow. Even now, heartbroken, you were still protecting him.
A long silence stretched between them. Then quietly, almost too quietly to be heard Matt admitted, “I think I ruined everything.” Luis didn’t answer immediately. Just slid the drink a little closer toward him.
“Then fix it.”
Matt almost laughed at that. If only it were that simple. Instead he picked up the glass for the first time and stared sightlessly into it , and for one horrible pathetic moment Matt almost started crying again right there at the counter.
~16 HOURS EARLIER~
Dani opened the apartment door about 3 inches, barefoot and the TV droning in the background. At first she just blinked at you. Then her expression changed instantly, “Oh my god.” She swung the door open immediately.
You hadn’t cried this hard in years. Eyes inflamed and red, your chest physically hurting from holding it all in on the cab ride here. Your overnight bag slipped from your shoulder the second Dani pulled you inside.
The apartment smelled like candles and leftover takeout and familiarity. That almost made you cry harder. “Hey, hey-” Dani shut the door quickly behind you. “What the fuck happened?” You shook your head immediately before she could even finish the question. Because you couldn’t answer it. Not yet. Your body felt numb and oversensitive at the same time. You could still hear Matt’s voice in your head.
I love you.
Too late. Too late.
Dani guided you toward the couch carefully like you might collapse. Honestly you might’ve. The second you sat down, exhaustion hit you so hard it made your vision blur and your head spin. You folded in on yourself instinctively and Dani crouched in front of you immediately.
“Are you hurt?... Did he hurt you?”
Your head snapped up fast. “No.” The answer came instantly. Sharply. Dani blinked slightly and you swallowed hard. “No,” you repeated quieter this time. “God, no.”
And despite everything, despite the heartbreak flaying you completely open, you knew that much with absolute certainty. Matt would never hurt you like that. Never.
Dani sat beside you more carefully after that. “Did he cheat?” Again, an instant, "No.” Almost offended. The word left your mouth before you even thought about it. Even destroyed and crying on yours and Dani’s couch your instinct was still to defend him. Dani noticed and her expression softened slightly, her brows furrowed as she seemingly tried to think. “Okay,” she said carefully. “Then what happened?” Silence.
You stared blankly at the floor for several seconds trying to figure out how to answer that. How did you explain, the man I love is Daredevil? How did you explain that you found a hidden room beside your shared bed full of weapons and masks and more than twenty years of secrecy? Your throat tightened painfully.
Finally you whispered, “I found out something about him.” Dani stayed quiet. You rubbed shakily at your face. "Something huge.” The tears came again immediately. “And I can’t stop thinking about how long he kept it from me.”
That got Dani’s full attention. No more assumptions now. No more normal breakup logic because this was clearly something bigger. You could see the realization dawning on her face as pathetic, hiccuped sobs continued to shake your whole body.
“Okay,” she said softly. Then after a beat, “Do you wanna tell me?”
You thought about Matt kneeling in front of you crying. About the hidden room gaping open beside the two of you. Your chest caved inward all over again and you shook your head once.
Dani studied you for another quiet moment. Then abruptly, “Okay. Then we’re getting the hell out of here.” You blinked at her. “What?” Dani was already standing. “I’m serious.” She grabbed her phone immediately. “You look like you’re about to have a nervous breakdown- Actually, it's definitely already started. We’re leaving.”
Despite everything, despite the ache swallowing your entire body, a tiny watery laugh escaped you. “Dani-”
“Nope.” She pointed a finger at at you while already scrolling on her phone. “We are not doing the pathetic crying in the apartment thing. Absolutely not. You need distance, fresh air, another country maybe.”
Another country. The words hit strangely. Far away. Far enough that Matt’s absence might finally stop twisting the knife in your gut deeper every second. You stared numbly at the floor while Dani scrolled aggressively through flights beside you.
“Okay let's see," She squinted. "Not a lot of cheap direct flights right now... but I have no problem with a layover. Thank God for mileage points."
That almost made you laugh again. Almost. Suddenly she announced in a near squeal. "Oh! Here's a flight with only one stop." Then your eyes landed on a photo over Dani’s shoulder. White buildings. Dark ocean. Ancient stone.
You should’ve said no. You should’ve picked literally anywhere else. But instead you just sat there exhausted and heartsick while Dani booked two seats on a red eye out of JFK.
Leaving in six hours.
Nelson, Murdock & Page had never felt this tense before. Usually, no matter how stressful things became, Matt remained a careful level of composed. Controlled. Even when he was angry, Matt knew how to wear calmness like another one of his tailored suits.
This afternoon he was a disaster. Foggy noticed it first. Then Karen. Then every poor assistant within a ten foot radius was feeling his wrath. Matt wasn’t completely cruel, every snapped response was followed immediately by visible regret. Every clipped answer sounded like his nerves had been sanded raw.
“Mr. Murdock, Mrs. Alvarez rescheduled-”
“I heard you the first time, Maria.”
Silence. Then immediately, “…Sorry. I apologize.” The receptionist practically ran away fleeing afterward. Foggy stared across the hallway from his office openly. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Matt pressed a hand hard against his forehead. Because the truth was everything hurt. The city was too loud today and the apartment too empty last night. Both grated his nerves. You were gone. Every instinct in his body strained constantly toward your absence like a phantom limb.
Karen emerged from her office holding a coffee just in time to hear Matt snap on another phone call. “You can either send the signed paperwork today or stop wasting our time.” Click. Silence.
Foggy and Karen exchanged a look. “…Jesus Christ,” Foggy muttered. “You’re like if seasonal depression became a person.”
Matt exhaled shakily through his nose. Normally he’d have some dry comeback. Today he just felt exhausted. Karen watched him carefully over the rim of her coffee from her space in the doorway. Beneath his apparently visible irritation was something else. Panic. Real panic. Matt was holding himself together by threads.
Karen sighed, eyes then darting down to her phone in her hand. Her breath hitched after scrolling for a few minutes. She glanced up automatically. And froze. “Oh.” Foggy looked up immediately. “What?” Karen stared at the screen again for another second before slowly looking toward Matt. “…I think I know where she went.”
The entire office went silent and Matt’s heartbeat slammed into his rib cage. “Dani posted something.” Karen spoke slowly. “It’s just a selfie with her at the airport.”
Matt stood immediately. Too fast, his chair scraping harshly across the floor. Karen’s expression softened instantly at the sound of sheer desperation in his voice when he asked, “Can you describe it?”
Karen looked back at the phone carefully. “She looks tired,” Karen admitted quietly. “Looks like they're waiting at their gate. Athens is on the display in the background.”
Matt sat back down, his knees suddenly felt weak. Foggy and Karen exchanged another look, both of their heartbeats picking up in concern. Because something about Matt’s face right now was genuinely painful to witness. Karen softened first. “Matt…” He shook his head once. Then quietly, almost to himself he murmured, “She went to Greece.” Like it meant something enormous. Like it broke him. Foggy leaned carefully against the desk. “So what are you gonna do?”
Matt stared sightlessly ahead for several long seconds. Then finally, “Fix it.”
The conviction in his voice startled both of them, pure resolve. Karen studied him carefully. "Do you even know if she wants to hear from you?”
No. He didn’t. And forcing himself into your space right now could destroy whatever fragile thread still existed between you. Matt looked down at his clasped hands. Then after a long silence, "Not her.” Karen frowned slightly as Matt pulled his phone slowly from his pocket. And for the first time all day, a tiny bit of strategic calm returned to his voice.
“I need to call Dani.”
notes: matt povvvv always love these. did anyone else miss Luis a little?
SUMMARY: Matt Murdock is still wearing his wedding ring and still watching over the woman who left him from the rooftops, half a block back, for "no particular reason at all."
You think the marriage ended because he cheated, and he let you believe it, because the truth was the one thing he could never let you carry.
Then one ordinary night, one ordinary act of violence, and you finally get close enough to recognize exactly who's been keeping you safe.
I was inspired by @peterftpercy ’s Divorce Papers and @nghtwngs ’s I wasn’t there when you needed me and I’m sorry prompt for this fic!
"Are you cheating on me?"
Nelson, Murdock & Page had kept Matt until eight. The rest of the night had kept him considerably longer than that, and he’d used the walk home to settle into the right kind of tired before he let himself in. His jacket went over the back of a chair, and his keys went into the bowl before he spoke. “Where’s this coming from?”
“You’ve come home at four in the morning three nights in a row this week, and I called Fogwell’s. They told me you haven’t been in for four days, Matt. Four days, and you’ve told me three different times this week that’s where you've been.”
He opened his mouth, but there wasn’t anything he could say to you in this moment that would make this better.
“I called the office, too,” you continued. “Foggy said you left at eight. So I’m begging you: where do you go, every single night, for hours, when it’s not the gym and it’s not the office?”
“Work ran into something I had to handle –”
“That’s not an answer, Matt.”
He felt relief that you were still sharp, and hated himself for finding anything to be grateful for in the middle of it.
“I’m not cheating on you.”
You let out a long, slow exhale. “Then what is it? I’ve spent half of our marriage trying to figure out why you’re not home until almost dawn some nights. The only story that ever adds up is the one where there’s someone else. So either give me something that actually makes sense, or stop making me feel crazy for believing the only explanation that does.”
"You think I'd do that to you." His voice came out sharper, defensiveness rising before he could stop it. "You really think the answer is someone else?"
"I don't know what to think. That's the entire problem, Matt. You won't give me any alternatives."
"Because there's nothing there to give you."
"Then where do you go?" Your voice cracked finally. "Every night for hours, sometimes even on days you have court. If it's not her, if it's not the gym, if it's not the office, then where are you at night, Matt?"
This was it. The door, wide open, exactly the way he'd imagined it a hundred times in the dark. It left him nowhere to go but toward the truth or away from you for good.
Just this once. She’s owed this.
"If I told you I’m –" He caught it by the throat before it could finish forming and rearrange both their lives permanently. “Sweetheart, I promise it’s not what you think –“
“Save it,” you said.
He heard the small clatter of your wedding ring against the counter, and then the swish of papers, set down one after the other. He reached for the counter and found them; the first set was ordinary paper under, and then the second – Matt’s hands went still as they felt over Divorce Decree.
Even when handing him the end of their marriage, you’d thought about how he’d need to read it. That small act of consideration was the thing that almost undid him where nothing else had.
“Matt. I know you’ve been cheating on me. I saw the scratches on your back and chest when you changed your shirt yesterday morning.”
He signed where you put the post-it on the official copy after reading through the divorce documents – the prenuptial agreement would go on as is, and the two of you would figure out the rest later in mediation.
“Need me to sign anywhere else?” Matt asked you, waiting for a no from you before setting the pen down on the counter.
The door didn’t slam when she took the papers and left the room. You weren't that kind of angry, but Matt wished you were, because that would be easier to digest than this.
He stood at the kitchen counter for a long time after, fingers resting on the braille copy. Then he turned his own ring, once, twice, three times around his finger before he took his glasses off and set them on the counter.
Even when he’d been faithful, and even though it absolutely devastated him, he owed you that much.
After all, this was for your own good.
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned." The words came out by muscle memory. "It's been a week since my last Confession."
"It must have been an eventful week."
The priest let him have the silence until Matt was ready to put something into it.
Somewhere behind him an elderly woman quickly worked through a decade of the Luminous Mysteries. The pang in his stomach reminded him hadn't eaten that day, hadn't really eaten the day before either.
"I let my wife believe I was unfaithful," he said finally. "I wasn't. I'm not, I want that on the record, for whatever it's worth, because some part of me wants credit for the one thing I didn't actually do. It’s its own kind of sin, probably, in the middle of everything I did do."
"And what did you do?"
"I let her ask me a direct question, and I gave her a lie shaped like an answer." He turned the ring once on his finger before he kept going. "The truth would put her in danger, Father, but I don't think it's the only reason I didn't say it."
"What's the other reason?"
The rosary kept moving behind him, click against click.
O my Jesus, forgive us our sins. Save us from the fires of hell. Lead all souls into heaven, especially those in most need of thy mercy. Amen.
"If I told her, I would be putting her in danger. I think some part of me wanted it to end like this," Matt said. "Where I get to be the version of myself that lost her instead of the version that told her everything and watched her decide I wasn't worth staying for.” Matt took a deep breath in and caught the notes of myrrh and frankincense from the incense in the air. “Father, I'd rather be the liar she left than the man she might have left anyway."
Silence.
"That's not protecting her," the priest said.
"No," Matt took a minute to reflect on the last year; he’d watched you build a smaller, quieter version of yourself around a question he wouldn't answer. He thought about the small things you did for him, like narrating the news to him while you made coffee, like he couldn't already hear the television fine on his own. He missed the feeling of you when you were asleep against his arm, on nights when nothing in the city was on fire.
"I'm still wearing my wedding ring," he said. It came out quieter than the rest.
"Why?”
"Because it's the one piece of penance I get to choose myself."
"That's not what I asked." The patience in the priest's voice wore thin for just a second, just enough to let something sharper through. "Did you actually believe pushing your wife away was a selfless act? Or are you justifying being selfish?"
Matt didn't answer that. His penance was to reread and reflect on 1 Peter 3:7 and to take action on being honest with his now ex-wife.
Likewise you husbands, live considerately with your wives, bestowing honor on the woman, since you are joint heirs of the grace of life, in order that your prayers may not be hindered.
Routine became the only architecture Matt had left, after that.
The wannabe mugger on West Forty-Second didn't know he'd already lost when he clocked your pulse spike as the man followed you home from work one night.
Matt was three rooftops over, and he didn't think about it. He dropped down ahead of the man's route and said boo, and watched the man find an excuse toward the bodega instead.
It wasn’t anything dramatic, he’d just rearranged a street before you knew it needed to be.
You walked past four minutes later, headphones in, laughing at your phone. He stayed until he heard your door lock, then left before the yearning could build into something worse than it was.
Most nights went like that, some nights there wasn't even a mugger to redirect – there was only you, walking home from a late shift, too tired for the performance you kept up during the day. He went with you anyway, always half a block back, roof to roof, listening for your pulse to drop from city-alert to almost-home.
One of those nights, a man on Twelfth Avenue had been three blocks behind you for too long.
He was patient. Too patient. Patient in a way Matt's senses flagged faster than conscious thought ever could. You had earbuds in, already composing whatever text you planned to send once you got inside.
You were entirely unaware that twenty feet behind you, a man with very specific intentions had just had his night ended.
Matt didn't make it quick, and you never heard a thing over your music.
You let yourself into your building four minutes later, the same as always, while Matt stood over the man on Twelfth with his knuckles split open inside the gloves, breathing hard. He didn't feel a single thing close to guilty about it.
It wasn't much, any of it. It wasn't a marriage or honesty or anything you’d have wanted if you knew the shape it actually took. But it was the only version of taking care of you Matt still had access to, and he took it every time.
He told himself it could go on like this indefinitely. He told himself that right up until the calendar handed him a date he couldn't talk himself out of.
Your wedding anniversary fell on a Thursday.
Six years ago, your wedding day was on a Saturday, and he'd stood at the front of a small chapel and promised a version of forever he'd started lying inside of before the ink dried.
You had been out with friends that night, somewhere loud enough that it took him a full minute to find her heartbeat in all the others. He told himself he had no reason to be anywhere near that part of the city, but he went anyway.
A decent man would have stayed home. He wasn't being decent tonight – he was just a man, still in love with his soon-to-be ex-wife on the one night of the year he had the least right to be.
He'd spent the better part of four months arguing himself out of it and lost every time, to the same plain fact underneath it all: Matt loved you exactly as much as he had the day he married you. Maybe more, with the specific uselessness of something he'd ruined himself and still couldn't put down.
He swept past the block at eight. Again near ten. Once more closer to eleven, for no particular reason at all – except that the particular reason was the only thing he'd thought about since he heard what the day’s date had been.
He gave himself thirty seconds of just listening for you before whatever was left of his self-respect made him leave e
Matt didn't get far.
Two hours later he picked you back up at the corner and made sure you got safely home from half a block out. You made it inside fine. You always did.
He found a perch across from your kitchen window anyway. He'd stopped manufacturing reasons for that part somewhere around his second loop past the bar.
Your voice on the phone came through before the words did – it was a little loose with drink, still trying to hold steady.
"...no, I'm fine," you said. "It's just a day."
Matt couldn’t make out what the other voice on the phone was saying, but his heart dropped when he heard what you had to say next.
"I don't know. I think I always knew, actually. I just wish he’d have told me our sex life was boring before he went and found himself a dominatrix. Some of those marks looked really nasty." A small, wet sound, not quite a laugh escaped your lips. "Anyways, it's just a day."
He pulled his gloves off and found his wedding ring with his thumb – even months after the kitchen, he still hadn’t taken it off. He pressed into it and held still.
You believed it. The whole wrong shape of it, built out of a lie he'd chosen for you, and there was nothing he could do about that from a rooftop three buildings over except stand there and feel exactly what he'd built.
He put his gloves back on and stayed until your light went out.
The divorce itself wasn't even final yet – New York didn't move fast for anyone, not even people in a hurry to be done with each other, and the paperwork was still grinding through a system that measured itself in quarters, not weeks.
You kept the apartment, and Matt had gone back to his old place where the neon sign glowed at night. The last of your boxes were gone, and the prenup he'd written years ago, back when forever still felt like a reasonable thing to put his name to, had done exactly the job he'd built it to do. Legally, you were two people efficiently becoming strangers. Everything else about it was taking considerably longer.
He'd told himself the watching would taper off eventually. Five months in, it hadn't.
He was three blocks from your building, route memorized down to which manhole cover rattled, when your heartbeat changed.
He heard the particular spike of your pulse. He'd know it inside a crowd of ten thousand, but then he heard the men in the alley. He covered the distance faster than his back would have liked and didn't slow down to negotiate.
He didn't redirect this one – three men had you backed into a corridor that smelled like motor oil and old piss, and whatever had kept him careful for the past few months simply wasn't there anymore.
It cost him.
A fist caught his jaw early, hard enough that the world tipped sideways for a half-second he couldn't spare. A knee found the ribs that hadn’t set right since spring, and his next breath came out more sound than air. He kept moving through it anyway – his body wasn't taking votes, not with you four feet away and nowhere left to retreat into.
Somewhere in the scramble, the glove on his left hand tore loose on a buckle or a blade, gone before he registered the loss. He finished the rest of it bare-knuckled, which cost the closest man considerably more than it cost his own knuckles.
It was over. Matt won, though that was never really in question, but it hadn't come free this time. His jaw throbbed in time with his pulse. His ribs were doing something he didn't have a clean word for. None of it registered as more than background noise. You were four feet away with your back against the wall, breathing hard, and nothing happening south of his own ribs was getting priority over that.
He turned toward you, his instinct outrunning any rational thought, loud enough to override even his own body's very vocal objections. For half a second, Matt froze when your eyes dropped to his hand.
His bare left hand.
Matt noticed your breathing calmed some after he registered his exposed wedding ring.
"Are you hurt?"
His voice came out, nothing like the lower, raspier register he used for anyone else. He reached for your face with both hands, carefully. He used the same care he'd have used checking for a fracture, except his palms knew your face for entirely different reasons. He tilted your chin, checked your jaw, the same path his hands had taken when nothing in the city was on fire and there was nowhere else either of them needed to be.
"Did they hurt you –" he started before noticing a sudden uptick in your pulse.
"...Matt?"
Everything in him wanted to stay exactly where he was. After months of rooftops and half-blocks and a ring he couldn't take off, and here was the door he'd spent every single one of those nights telling himself he'd never get to hold your face again.
Your hands were still loose at your sides, like you hadn't decided yet whether to reach for him or step back.
He could say it. One word, the only word that mattered, and the whole architecture of the lie he'd built years ago would come down in the time it took to nod.
The men on the ground reminded him there were more like them out there who'd be very interested in a name to go with the mask – or any names connected to the mask. And nearly six years of careful, deliberate cowardice reasserted itself just long enough to win one more time, and he was gone before you could get your bearings.
As it turns out, the man without fear was afraid of exactly one thing:
He got back to his apartment and got the cowl off and sat on the edge of the bed in the dark, letting his body feel as destroyed as it was – the ribs, the split knuckles, and to top it off, he was exhausted.
None of it touched the one thought sitting underneath everything else, on a loop: you knew.
Matt’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, your name chiming into the dark, and he let himself imagine what answering the phone would actually cost.
He wasn’t afraid of the conversation, or even your anger, which he'd earned a hundred times over and would have welcomed at this point like a kindness. He thought every enemy who'd ever made a project out of finding the man under the mask, every one of them patient and resourceful and utterly without restraint about who they hurt to get there.
He thought about what it would mean for your name to end up on that particular ledger. He'd spent a year keeping you out of it by inches, and he wasn't about to undo all of it over one phone call, no matter how much some reckless, starving part of him wanted to.
It rang out, and Matt sat in the silence with his hands on his knees, his thumb finding the ring on his left hand, still exactly where he'd left it, still meaning exactly what it had always meant.
It buzzed again. Your name chimed out again, but he let that one ring out too. He loved you enough, even with the divorce and distance he caused, that some nights it felt like the only fact left standing. Now, he was using that exact love as the reason to keep doing the one thing guaranteed to make you hate him for the rest of both their lives, if you didn’t already.
He understood, distantly, how insane that sounded. He didn't have a better option.
A third time his phone chimed out your name in the dark.
He thought about the night of what would have been your sixth wedding anniversary, about your voice doing that careful, wet thing while you told your friend you’d always known he found your sex life boring – even though he’d never been bored once – and that you'd spent a year waiting for him to say it himself.
The fourth call came. Your name chimed out in the dark one more time, and this time he reached for the phone, thumb hovering over the power button just long enough to feel the full weight of every reason not to before he hit it.
The screen went dark. The apartment went quiet. Somewhere across the city, a call rang out into nothing at all, and the silence it left behind was the sound of the same choice made twice by a man who loved you exactly as much both times, and was exactly as afraid, for exactly the same reason, still wearing a ring he didn't have the right to keep and couldn't bring himself to take it off.
I can't believe 200 people liked Kitty Cat 😭😭😭 I started writing again recently and I really didn't expect so many people to like what I write. Thank you so much. 🫶🏻🥹
i need to read a good friends-to-lovers story, one where there's suffering at the beginning and then matt is groveling to win the reader/oc's love. or something where matt just messes up at the start and then he's groveling. i need matt to grovel because it's good for my heart.