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pedrito-friskito · 2 years

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cinnamon spice and everything (not so) nice - matt murdock x vigilante!reader

summary: the holiday season puts you in a baking mood before duty calls, and coming home tastes better than ever.

warnings: canon-typical violence, possessive!matt, unprotected p-in-v, shower sex, hints of what’s to come for our sweet kitten and devil

a/n: uNEDITED I’m lazy I’m sorry but this one was interesting to write!!! hints of what’s to come (not for a while but it wILL HAPPEN SOON I SWEAR) - my askbox is always open if you have theories 😏

🍂kay’s autumn adventures🍂

Matt’s pretty sure he can count on one hand the number of times he’s used his kitchen.

Since you appeared on the scene, however — swooping your way into his life and deciding to stay, despite everything you’d both been through — the apartment is a test lab of sorts. Every night you’re over at his place, you’re trying out some new recipe, greeting him at the door with a wooden spoon coated in something, pushing it towards his mouth and telling him to taste. It’s only after he gives you his honest opinion that he gets his hello kiss, a smile on your mouth more often than not.

Spaghetti is a staple and is always a hit, along with all your variations and sauces. Same goes with pad thai, broccoli cheddar soup, and a ridiculously good ravioli thing that Matt’s still not sure you made correctly, but was delicious either way. He’s joked more than once that it’s a good thing you both spend your evenings taking down criminals and running across rooftops, otherwise he’d have traded his muscles for a paunch a long time ago.

“And I’d still want to fuck your brains out,” you’d chided, poking him in the stomach before grabbing his belt and hauling him towards you for a kiss.

He can always smell your cooking before he even steps out of the elevator, even more so when he takes the stairs, the scents mingling with the building air and hitting his nose as soon as he’s inside. He’s made a game of it, trying to figure out just what you’re making for dinner before he gets to his floor. Sometimes he’ll text you his guess from inside the elevator, waiting for your triumphant no! or confused yes? how did you guess that? once he steps through the door.

But today, he’s…confused.

The smell is different today. There’s nothing savoury about it, no salt or pepper or — your favourite — garlic powder permeating the air. No, no, today is different. Today is…sweet.

Matt inhales deeply as soon as he steps into the building, and the flavours explode on the back of his tongue. Cinnamon, nutmeg, brown sugar, maple. It goes on and on, and he’s too distracted to even think about hitting the button for the elevator, keeping his cane handy in case he encounters anyone on the way up. No one crosses his path, however, and before you can even shout hello, he’s through the door and into the kitchen, sniffing the air like a hound dog, licking his lips as the flavours and smells grow more and more intense.

“You’ve been busy,” he laughs, and you just shrug.

“I had the day off,” you reply, and Matt steps up behind you, slipping his arms around your middle, setting his chin on your shoulder while you continue to roll out cookie dough. Everything just smells so good, he can feel the drool pooling on his tongue, and coupled with the familiar scent of you, he’s nearly a goner. “Foggy called earlier,” you continue, sucking a stripe off cinnamon off your knuckle before turning in Matt’s grasp, draping your arms around his shoulders. “He wants us to come over for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Uh-huh,” Matt mumbles, leaning in to kiss you. You taste like sugar, your already sweet mouth made doubly so. It sends him reeling. “So you decided to turn my apartment into a bakery?”

“I bake when I’m nervous,” you sigh, tilting your head back, accepting the kisses he drags down your throat. “And you know what tonight is.”

Matt stops short, trying to comb through his sugar-hazed mind. Tonight? Tonight, it’s late October, it’s Wednesday, it’s not your birthday, it’s not his birthday, and you don’t necessarily have an anniversary to speak of, not yet anyway, so what is tonight…?

Oh.

“I do know what tonight is,” Matt grumbles, the words spoken directly into your jugular, followed up with a little nip that makes you whine and smack his shoulder.

You are nothing if not persistent. In everything you do; your vigilantism, your day-job, your friendships, your love for him. He’s tried his best to keep you at arm’s length with what you both do in the dark, but he knows your patience has waned thin. For a while, taking it in shifts was the easiest, swapping out each night, the other staying behind, ready to tend to wounds and kiss bruised egos back to life. It worked, for a time, but the waiting, the pacing the apartment (his or yours, it didn’t matter) and just waiting for the other half of your heart to come back through the door — or window — it became too much. It was too hard, simply waiting, praying to whoever was listening to bring them back. Whole. Unbroken. Alive.

“Remind me again why we don’t cut the bullshit and protect the Kitchen together?” you’d asked, ever so casually, over breakfast one morning. You were nursing a nasty black eye, and Matt sputtered on his cereal, his cracked rib sending a twinge of pain up his spine.

“What?”

“If we did this together,” you continued, sipping your coffee. “If we worked together, instead of just waiting up for each other, we could actually get things done. Put the bad guys in cells. Protect our city.”

His hand turned into a fist on the table. “Kitten, don’t. You know what I—”

“I know exactly what you’re going to say,” you countered, reaching over and curling a hand around his wrist. “You’ve said it a million times, Matty. So, I have a proposal. One month from now, we go out on patrol together. You watch my back, I watch yours, for one night. One night, Matthew. And if anything goes wrong, I’ll drop it forever. But if it works, if we make as good of a team as I think we will, then you stop pushing back at me.” You squeezed his arm. “Deal?”

He bit back his objection. He knew you wouldn’t drop it otherwise, knew you didn’t care what else he had to say. It was obvious in the consistently steady beat of your heart; you hadn’t let yourself think about this turning into a fight. Your mind was made up, your proposal was perfectly logical, and there was no lawyering himself out of this one — not if he didn’t want to sleep on the couch for the foreseeable future.

“Deal.”

For a beat, Matt wishes he could go back in time and punch his past self in the face. It might hurt less than the instant knot of worry and fear that makes a home in his stomach, the sugary taste on his tongue turning sickly sweet. He buries his face further into your neck, inhaling the familiar scent of you that lurks beneath the cinnamon and brown sugar.

“We had a deal, Matthew,” you murmur, lifting one hand and threading your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You promised.”

“I did,” he replies, the words spoken into the hollow of your throat. “We go together. I promised.”

It’s late by the time you head out into the city. The kitchen is mostly clean, the scent of baked goods still drenching every inch of the apartment, and Matt can still taste the toffee from the cookies you made, the sweetness lingering on the back of his tongue. He’s stoic and silent as you prepare, suits zipped and weapons fastened, masks donned and courage mustered. He’s antsy as you head up the stairs to the roof entrance, the sounds of your footfalls echoing loud in his ears.

You reach for the door handle, and Matt grabs your wrist. “You stay close to me, understand?” he murmurs, squeezing his fingers lightly. “And if I tell you to run, you run.”

“Matt, this isn’t—”

“Kitten,” he chides, his grip growing tighter. “I promised you. Now it’s your turn.”

He hears the hard swallow you take, the huff of your breath before he feels the heat on his chin. “Fine. I promise.”

Everything goes fine, really.

Until it doesn��t.

Until you’re pinned down in an alleyway, both of you with your backs to bricks, multiple guns pointed in your direction, more thugs than you’ve faced alone crowding you further down the alley. You’re both worse for wear, busted knuckles and a few ribs, a steady drip of blood down the side of your face, and Matt’s lip is split in at least three places. He’s positioned himself in front of you, his body angled in such a way that he’s mostly blocking you. Your heart is in your throat, and you’re sure he can hear it.

This is bad.

You know Matt’s faced worse, at this point. Everything that happened at Midland Circle, everything leading up to it. Your resume pales in comparison, and you’d never dream of trying to take down an operation like this on your own, but you didn’t anticipate this many men. Or this man guns.

You’re fast, but you can’t outrun a bullet. You’ve tried, and you have the scars to prove it.

“The fire escape,” Matt murmurs, so low you can barely hear him. “To the left. When I signal, you run.”

“But—”

“Kitten.”

The tone sends a shiver down your spine. It’s the same one he’d used when you started to protest back at the apartment. Everything in you is screaming not to go, but before you can, he’s sprinting towards a dumpster, using all his weight to push it towards the group of men. Bullets start to fly, ricocheting off brick and metal, and, knowing Matt is safe enough tucked behind the dumpster, you curse under your breath and sprint up the fire escape, just as he’d asked.

You don’t look back, heart in your throat and blood thundering through your ears as you sprint up the steps. Metal clangs beneath your boots, and as you near the top of the building, you have enough wherewithal to realize that there’s a second set of footsteps below you.

Please God, if you’re listening, let it be Matt. Please, please. please.

You roll onto the gravel roof as soon as you’re over the edge of the fire escape, scrambling against the brick, heaving breaths and trying to suck down more oxygen. You hear another panted breath behind you and spin to your feet, reaching for the weapon at your belt.

Before you can make another move, a large hand wraps itself around your throat, hauling you up and to your feet, boots scraping on the gravel, your back shoved hard against brick a moment later. “You think you can outrun us, little bitch?” the man spits. You’re scrabbling against his grip, trying to claw at his wrist, his arm, his face, anything you can reach. Your feet kick like mad, vision blurring at the edge as his grip goes tighter. No, no, no, no, please God, no. All you can hear is the sound of your own choked sputtering, see the gruesome face of your attacker, feel the life slowly draining from you.

This cannot be the end. Not after everything. Not like this.

The grip goes slack, and you fall to the gravel in a heap, your body immediately trying to get as much oxygen as humanly possible, the blurriness giving way to little black dots that dance across your vision. You lay there for a moment, palm pressed to your chest. You’re alive.

There’s shouting, from the other side of the roof, and you struggle to sit up, head turning in time to see Matt being shoved to his knees by your attacker, punch after punch delivered to his face, blood pouring down his cheeks, staining the front of his suit an even darker shade of red. His billy club lies on the ground a few feet from the pair of them, and you scramble forward on your knees, your body quaking in protest as you haul yourself up.

You shout loud as you crack the club across the back of the man’s head, but he barely flinches, large frame turning from Matt and back to you. You try to will the fear away, but the feeling of his hand around your throat comes back, a phantom ache that makes your breath come shorter.

“Little bitch!” he shouts, and goes to lunge for you, but before he can, Matt swoops in from the side, shoving his shoulder into the man’s middle, sending him wheeling backwards.

Right over the edge of the roof.

You both face each other as the sound echoes up from the alley below. Your chest is heaving, breaths wispy and thin. You feel lightheaded, and Matt notices, moving to step beside you as you collapse into him, curling your hand into whatever part of his suit you can. He slips an arm around your waist. “Home,” he breathes out, the word thick with blood that he spits onto the gravel. “Now.”

You can’t bring yourself to voice your agreement, nodding as you lean your head on his shoulder. He smells like copper.

“Is he dead?” you ask as he pulls you across the roof.

A pause, head cocked to the side. “He’ll live.”

“Matt.”

“He will.”

Something feels different as you slowly make your way back to Matt’s apartment. It’s not tension between you, per se, but something different, something more tangible, something almost desperate as Matt nearly carries you through the rooftop entrance. He stops at the bottom of the steps, forces you to sit, and pulls your feet into his lap one at a time, unlacing your boots and pulling them off, setting them aside.

Blood is still leaking from his nose, and you’re worried it might be broken, but he doesn’t flinch when you reach out to wipe the red from his cupid’s bow. “You took the brunt of it,” you say, your voice hoarse and scratchy, and he tosses your second boot to the side, reaching up and pulling his helmet off.

“I had to,” he replies, hair a mess as he lets the helmet fall to the floor. “He was trying to kill you.”

There’s a glimmer in those bottomless eyes as they move in your direction, something feral and uncanny that you’ve never seen before. His lashes flutter as he blinks slowly, gaze turning glassy as he reaches for your hand, takes it between both of his, swipes his thumb across your busted knuckles.

“I won’t let that happen.”

His voice nearly cracks on the last word, and you hook your fingers in the front of the suit, leaning up with what little strength you have left and brushing a soft kiss across his lips, careful of the splits in his skin. “I know you won’t, Matty.”

He’s quiet as he helps you to your feet, quieter as he leads you into the bathroom, turns on the shower so hot that the steam fills the room quickly. Silent as he undresses himself, bloodied suit laying in a heap on the floor, your own — dirty and dust-covered — joining it a moment later. Noiseless as you step under the spray together, take turns washing the dirt and blood from each other. The steam eases the ache in your chest, makes your breaths come a bit easier, and after you’re both clean, Matt pushes you against the tile, pushes your knees apart with his thigh, and kisses you hard.

You squeak in surprise, one hand grabbing his shoulder, the other threading in his hair as his body moulds itself against yours. You can feel every inch of him, scars and muscle and wet skin. The prod of his cock against the inside of your thigh, the gentle scratch of his body hair against you.

He kisses you hard, and his tongue tastes like toffee. It makes you laugh, the awful juxtaposition of the duelling sides of your life. The light and the dark, the normal and the uncanny. But there, no matter where you look: Matt Murdock, Daredevil, man of your dreams, owner of your heart.

“Kitten,” he whispers against your lips, hands roaming your body gently. He skims your thigh, hooks his hand around the back of your knee and hikes your leg over his hip. Pleasure spikes as he rolls his body into yours, friction in all the right places, and your head tips back against the tile. “Please, I…”

“Tell me, Matty,” you reply, breathing fast as his other hand glances down your front, tweaking your nipple before fitting into the curve of your waist. “What do you need?”

“I need you safe,” he groans, dropping his hips enough that his cock slides between your folds, the water easing his thrust, teasing and slow. “I need you beside me.” He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping lightly before releasing it, mouthing along the edge of your jaw. “I need to be inside you.”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble out, bliss climbing, replacing whatever fear you’ve encountered, whatever stress and tension you’ve accumulated dissipating as your body screams: Matt, Matt, Matt, Matt, Matt. “I want that too.”

“Such a good kitten,” he murmurs, the tip of his nose dragged along the underside of your jaw. He’s pointedly avoiding your throat, and you can tell, but you don’t mind. He squeezes your hip. “My perfect girl.” Another teasing thrust, making your breath hitch high, hand moving from his shoulder to his bicep, squeezing tight. “Let me fuck you, please.”

You just nod again, your head falling forward, jaw hinging open as he angles himself and pushes deep into you. It’s slow, like the rest of it, drawn out and almost excruciating, the drag of him inside you sending your nerves into a frenzy, rushes of pleasure just teetering on the edge of pain.

A few thrusts, and he’s reaching for your other thigh, holding one in each hand, lifting you against the tile as he starts to drive into you. You throw your arms around his neck, cheek pressed to the top of his head as his lips attach to your collarbone, teeth scraping and lips sucking.

It’s a moment before you realize he’s talking, his voice low and husky.

“Mine.”

The word, over and over and over again, your name interspersed, in perfect time with his thrusts, the sound of his skin against yours barely audible over the rush of the water. The heat is almost too much, and you can feel yourself teetering on that edge already, your exhausted body leaping towards the peak of pleasure.

A particularly deep thrust has the ridge of his stomach glancing against your clit, and you’re a goner. He’s not far behind you, growling his way through his orgasm, that familiar warmth only he can provide spreading through you. The water’s starting to go from hot to warm, cold not too far off, as you come down, Matt slipping out of you with a groan and letting you down, holding you close as you right yourself on shaky knees.

Just as the water starts to go cold, he grabs your jaw, turns your face towards him, kisses you rough.

“Mine.”

—————

matt murdock taglists will be rb’d!

#matt murdock #kay’s autumn adventures #cinnamon spice and everything (not so) nice #my fics #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x vigilante!reader #daredevil x you #daredevil smut #daredevil x reader #daredevil #the kitten and the devil

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farfromstrange · 11 months

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Can I suggest something with angst (because angst with no comfort is my forte) like a daredevil x vigilante teen reader (?) They are like siblings by blood. (The reader is treated by Matt like family, and he is so overprotective of them.) They have been together for a long time. Then something came up: the reader got caught by their enemies, and the daredevil was on the run to save the reader, or something like that. (I'm bad at explaining things, but I hope you get it.) Thank you in advance. I hope you're having a great day! love u

I am so sorry for the long wait, nonnie! I feel like I owe you for making you wait so long. Since you said angst with no comfort, I decided to completely shatter you with the angst, and I hope you're okay with that! I felt a shorter piece for this request would do better to convey the emotions. I'm nervous to post this, but I hope you like what I did with this!

Slipping Through My Fingers | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x teen!vigilante!Reader

Summary: You get hurt and Matt fails to save you.

Warnings: ANGST, TW: Death, hurt/no comfort

Word Count: 1.5k

A/n: Not tagging for this fic because the topic isn't for everyone.

He’s running. The city sounds, the noise, the sirens and the blood-curdling screams follow him everywhere. The stench in the alleyways seems to cruelly try to distract him from what he’s focused on, but he can’t give up now. He is close, so close.

Matt Murdock lost the only family he had when he was just a boy and he believed he was alone, truly alone, for a very long time. And then, one day, you stepped into his life. He was at the police station when he ran into you. Well, you weren’t running, you were stuck in a holding cell. When he found out why – you were caught punching a guy to a puddle for attempting to hurt an elderly woman – and when he asked Brett for your file and confirmed that you were, in fact, only a teenager, he chose to help you out. It could have been him, after all. In his mask, getting caught by authorities, and he would have wished for someone to bail him out, too. Besides, your sassy nature when he told you he was your lawyer drew him in. You tried pushing him away at first, but then you went out again the next night, and there he was, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, and he taught you a lesson or two about being smart when it comes to being a vigilante. That was the day you started working together, and you have become his family. You’re like his little sibling, and he’s never had one, so it feels right. He can mentor you, protect you and make sure you don’t get yourself in too much trouble, and in return, you breathe some fresh air into his life. It works, and he doesn’t feel as alone now anymore. You even moved in with him.

Last night, everything seemed normal. You went out on parol together, busting up a drug ring you had been investigating long before that, and you seemingly succeeded. Though when Matt came home after work a few hours ago, he found the apartment empty, your suit still at home, and he couldn’t make out your heartbeat. When he called, you didn’t answer your phone. You didn’t text back. And you made a deal at the beginning of this that you would always call back. If you don’t, you told him, not even after five tries, and he can’t hear your heartbeat across the city, something isn’t right. But Matt doesn’t need to remember your deal to know that something happened; he can feel it in his bones.

His chest contracts as his heart grows heavier. The fear is etched deep into his bones. He has gotten so used to the sound of your breathing, not being able to hear it is torture. Like minuscule needles drilling into his brain, the agony wraps its claws around his soul and drags him down into a dark hole.

He’s running, and he won’t stop until he finds you.

Something must have gone wrong last night. Someone must have remembered he isn’t working alone anymore and grabbed you to get to him. He has an inkling, but he can’t say for sure. He’s simply following the clues that are smaller than a grain of salt, and he’s struggling to keep up. For hours, he has been running, and you are no closer to being back home than he was before.

At this point, you could be dead. You could be bleeding out in a ditch. These men could have shipped you off to Russia, enslaved you, used you– He can’t think about that now or he will stop and smash someone’s head into the nearest wall, maybe even his own. He swore to protect you and he failed, he always fails. If anything happened to you, he once told himself, it would be his fault, and it is. He should have been more careful the night before. He should have paid more attention to his surroundings. Things always end badly when he’s involved, and he believes he has doomed you. Yes, he must have doomed you and now you’re gone because of him, possibly even dead, and he is going to have to live with that for the rest of his miserable life.

Then, he smells it. The wind comes in from the right direction and he catches the slightest whiff of your shampoo, your clothes, and your blood. The latter is what causes all fuses to blow in his mind. His already burning vision turns redder, his senses blaring with the alarms in his brain and he runs even faster. He jumps rooftops, chasing after your scent – and then he hears it. The faintest hint of your heartbeat is in the distance, but it is weak, and you’re losing blood at a pace that is weakening your body.

He’s not sure for how long he runs, but eventually, his feet are sore and his muscles ache, and he can finally hear your voice calling out for him, “Matty!”

He finds you on a rooftop. Your body lies limp between two blocks of cement. The gash in your side is large, and the pool of blood that surrounds you keeps growing by the minute. Your breathing sounds labored. You reach out when you see his silhouette, barely conscious, but you have gotten used to his presence.

“No,” he chokes out and gets on his knees beside you. He pulls off his mask, pulling your head into his lap. His hand flies to your wound, but it’s not the only spot you’re bleeding from.

Bare fingers glide over your face, checking for more injuries. He finds a cut on your lip, your eyebrow has been cracked, as has your skull, and you look completely destroyed. Your life is in his hands, and you’re slipping through his fingers.

“Who did this to you?” Matt growls.

“They’re gone,” you whisper. Even though you are injured, you don’t sound scared, you’re not in pain – you have accepted your fate. A fate Matt refuses to see.

“I’ll get you out of here. You just have to hold on a little longer, and then we’ll end them together. I promise. We’ll come home tonight and we’ll have Tacos and–”

“Matthew,” you reach for his face, “It’s okay.”

But it’s not okay, he thinks. You’re bleeding out, you’re dying, and you’re too far from the nearest hospital for him to even try to make a run for it. Even an ambulance won’t make it here in time. It’s not okay, no matter how badly you want to convince him of that, and just like that another wave of blood gushes out of you and into his hand. It feels heavy, like your life’s essence is trying to escape but he doesn’t want it to. You can’t die, he promised he wouldn’t let you.

“No,” he says again, more sternly this time. “Don’t even talk like that, okay? You’re gonna be fine, you hear me?” He calls your name.

You feel yourself getting dizzier by the minute, but you’re oddly content. “I– I won’t make it–” You’re cut off by a cough, and you taste the copper on your tongue now, too.

“Shh, yes you are. Stay with me, sweetie, stay with me!”

He can say it all he wants, it won’t change the brutal reality of the situation.

You’re dying, and he can’t save you.

You pull him down by his sleeve. “Promise me,” you breathe into his ear, “That you’ll– you’ll take that trip to Eu-Europe. Promise me, Matthew. Promise me you’ll l-live.”

“Stop talking like you’re dying, I–”

“I am.”

“No. We’ll get you an ambulance and then you’ll be fine.”

A tear slips from his cheek and onto your face.

“Matthew, please, just…”

“No…”

“Thank you,” you whisper, “for everything. For- for being my brother.”

He calls your name, but the noise fades into the background.

“I love you,” and these are your last words before the dark void grabs you and hands you over into the hands of the Grim Reaper.

You look over your shoulders on your way to the light, the last thing you remember being the tears on Matt’s cheeks and the scream he lets out as you leave, your life slipping through his finger like the sand in an hourglass.

You’re gone, and he couldn’t save you. The one thing he promised to do, he failed at. He failed, and you paid the ultimate price for it.

He stands alone at your funeral. Just like him, you didn’t have anyone. He made the men that did this to you pay for what they did, and the bruises on his knuckles still burn as the sun shines down on him. It doesn’t rain, which he sees as a sign from you, a silent encouragement that it is okay for him to move on and find the light as you did, but he can’t accept it. He can’t accept that you’re gone.

You were too young to get dragged into this, and now you’re gone. It’s his fault, and beating the ones responsible to the point they fell into a coma still didn’t feel enough.

He sends a silent prayer up into the sky, but God doesn’t listen, and he doubts he ever will. Mercy is something he doesn’t deserve, and he will carry the guilt with him until the day he dies.

#request #tw: death #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x vigilante!teen!reader #not a ship fic #gender neutral #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock imagines #human disaster matt murdock #matt murdock angst #hurt/no comfort #angst #like a lot of it

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amhrosina · 2 years

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The Four Times Frank Almost Asks You to Marry Him, and the One Time He Does. (Frank Castle x Reader)

MASTERLIST // TAG LIST REQUEST FORM

A/N: I love Frank Castle so much, I just want to cry. I'm currently watching the Astros lose to the Mariners, so here's some soft!frank to make everyone feel better. This is just a reminder that if you get a response from @yourfriendhenrywinter, that's me on my main account! They're linked together so I can't reply to comments as amhrosina atm!

Summary: I feel like the title of this makes the summary self-explanatory. This is four times Frank almost asks you to marry him, and then the one time he actually does it.

(Warnings: vigilante!reader (similar to Black Cat, but not actually Black Cat lol), socialiate!reader, mentions of cuts/blood/bruising - the usual Frank stuff, mentions of grief/death, guns, soft!FrankCastle, a wild Matt Murdock briefly makes an appearance)

The first time Frank almost asked you to marry him was after he’d shown up on your doorstep, beaten and battered to high hell. You’d ushered him in the door, still wiping the sleep from your eyes. It was almost four in the morning, and you had to be up in two hours to get ready for a meeting with your agent, but you didn’t complain to him about it once.

You did, however, tear him a new one for patrolling without backup. He tried to hide his grin as you stitched a particularly nasty cut up, being so gentle with your hands and so stern with your mouth.

“Frank, it’s dangerous. I mean,” you shook your head and grabbed another piece of gauze, “you could’ve called, you know? I would’ve met you somewhere. Watched your back. Shot a few guys.” You shot him a pointed look as you focused your attention on a small cut under his jaw.

“I didn’t want to bother you unless I had to. You have work soon, sweetheart.”

“I don’t care. Better for me to be tired than for you to be dead in a ditch somewhere.”

He watched you as you moved from injury to injury, cleaning, patching, and even suturing a few cuts. Your fluidity was graceful and enamoring, something Frank adored about you. How it looked like you flowed from room to room, barely placing your feet on the ground before you were already taking your next step. How you could take out a team of trained gunmen without ever having to touch the ground. And when you turned that graceful attention on him, he was a goner. He had never felt something as gentle as your hands, except maybe your love for him.

You began to clean up your bathroom counter, scooping empty gauze packages into your trash can. He rose to help you, but your stern gaze had him promptly sitting back down.

He murmured your name, intent on grasping your full attention so that he could tell you just how much he loved you. How his heart ached for you when you weren’t with him. How your love had burrowed its way into his soul, healing the missing piece of his heart. He would always love Maria and his kids, but he also knew he couldn’t sustain himself on anger and vengeance forever.

A knock sounded at the door before he could figure out where to begin. You made your way to the door, grabbing your gun off your side table before looking through the peephole. Frank was right behind you, hand resting on your waist, ready to pull you aside if the person at the door meant any harm.

You sighed, uncocking your gun and opening the door.

“Hey Devil Man.” You smiled. Frank narrowed his eyes at the man dressed in red.

“I smelt blood.” You nodded, like Matt’s timing wasn’t completely inconvenient, and opened the door wider, inviting him in.

“Since the whole gang is here, I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”

You walked into the kitchen, tinkering around for coffee mugs and creamer. Frank continued to glare at Matt, who was grinning wide like a cat.

“Cockblock,” Frank grumbled, rolling his eyes.

The second time Frank almost asked you to marry him, you were standing over an unconscious Russian mob member, panting because you had just whacked said Russian in the temple with your gun.

“That’s what I thought you said,” you huffed, stomping away from the guy, who was tied to a chair and missing most of his clothing.

Frank hadn’t expected you to lash out the way you did. The Russian was going on and on about Maria, Lisa, and Frank Jr., saying they deserved what they got, calling them weak. Frank was beyond letting some mobster rile him up about his past, but it apparently didn’t sit right with you.

You had stalked towards him, predator stalking prey, and asked him to repeat himself, a little louder so you could hear him. The guy had said three words before you raised the gun and smashed it into the side of his head.

Frank grinned, watching you stomp around and mumble to yourself. He heard parts of your rant; picked out words like “common decency” and “how dare he”.

“What’s so funny, big bad punisher?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“’s nothing, sweetheart. I just love you.” He averted his eyes from yours out of habit, but you didn’t mind. Frank’s been betrayed so many times in his life that allowing himself to be vulnerable and trust anyone was a feat, let alone confessing his love for you so openly. You returned his smile, leaning over to poor a bucket of water on the Russian, who came to kicking and sputtering.

‘Right,’ Frank thought, ‘back to work.”

The third time Frank almost asked you to marry him, he was sitting on the floor of your apartment, watching you answer questions on the morning news. You were pretty well known around New York. Your parents, who were wealthy real estate investors, had left you everything they owned in their will, which skyrocketed your status among New York socialites. If only they knew what you got up to once the sun went down.

A photo of the two of you holding hands outside of a bar was leaked online, causing all kinds of controversy among the elites. Your relationship with Frank had been kept from the public, which served both of you guys well, but when the photo had been released, your agent demanded that you make a statement, denying any type of relationship with him.

Frank had walked you to the door that morning, kissing you on your forehead and telling you to do whatever you needed to do. He wouldn’t let elite assholes hurt his feelings or his relationship with you.

You walked on set confidently; chin held high as you were bombarded with questions about your relationship with the vigilante Frank Castle. You cleared your throat, silencing the questions.

“I know you have many questions. I wish I could say I cared enough to answer them,” you paused, “My privacy has been violated. A private moment that I was sharing with my partner has been turned into a...a shitshow, really.” Your voice was crisp as it came through the tv speakers. The corners of Frank’s lips turned up. You had just cursed on live television, and that wasn’t even the worst thing you had done yet today.

“Frank Castle is not a bad man.” Your firm voice boomed across the silent set. “Frank Castle was abandoned by his country. The country that he served, with honor, for eight years. The country that slaughtered his family in broad daylight.”

Frank swallowed thickly. This was not on the script your agent had sent you.

“I think most of you don’t even care that I’m dating Frank. You just want a story that will sell papers.” You rolled your eyes. "Anyways, my point is, if any of you went through what Frank went through, you would wish you had the courage to do the same thing he did.”

The questions started up again, and you sent a sympathetic look towards someone off camera, no doubt your agent who was likely fuming.

“My relationship is my business, but for those who are wondering,” you slightly paused, making eye contact with the camera, “I’m in love with Frank Castle, and I don’t really care if anyone has a problem with that.” Your voice was soft, flittering through the speakers directly into Frank’s chest.

He knew that this would likely damage your reputation with the elites, but it was clear that you didn’t care. He let out a hearty laugh, sipping his coffee and getting up to make you breakfast. If he had been able to go with you to the news station, he would probably be on his knee right now, begging for your hand.

‘Another time, then,” Frank grinned, ‘another time.’

The fourth time Frank almost asked you to marry him, you were knelt down, knees in the soft ground, cleaning a particularly difficult glob of sap off a gravestone. He was not expecting to find you here, among his family’s graves. He certainly wasn’t expecting to find you cleaning the gravestones.

Frank had come by to talk to Maria, which always grounded him. He wanted to apologize to his kids for not protecting them when he should have. He also wanted to ask Maria for her forgiveness for loving someone else after her passing. It wasn’t a conflict in his head; he knew that Maria would have wanted him to find happiness, but that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty about how deep his love for you ran.

He inhaled sharply when he realized what you were doing. Your voice carried down the hill a little bit, hitting him squarely in the heart. You were talking to Maria.

“Was he always this grumpy?” You asked her, smiling bashfully. “He likes to act tough, but I know he’s a big teddy bear inside.” You wiped the top of the gravestone off, sitting back on your heels to observe your work. Sighing, you leaned back, moving into a crisscross position.

“I’m so sorry this happened to your family, Maria.” You paused, resting your chin on your hands. “I hope it’s okay that I love him. I really do. He’s...happier than he used to be. When I first met him, I mean.”

Frank blinked the tears that had gathered in his eyes. Overwhelmingly, and simultaneously, grief and love passed through him like a wave, nearly knocking him over.

You tilted your head, looking at the two graves next to Marias; Lisa and Frank Jr.’s resting places.

“Your dad misses you. You probably know that, but I see it in him all the time. The way he lights up when he gets to talk about you guys. I hope he never stops. Weirdly, I feel like I know you, even though we never met.”

You leaned back, searching through your bag for something. It nearly broke Frank when you pulled out a bouquet of peonies, Maria’s favorite flowers.

“I’ll take care of him,” you promised, setting the flowers down at the base of Maria’s grave. You ran your fingers over her name, etched beautifully into the stone.

Frank’s knees almost gave out. He fumbled with the little black box in his pocket, vowing to ask you to marry him as soon as he finished talking to Maria.

Your phone began to ring, startling both you and Frank. You held the phone between your ear and shoulder and began to pack your things away, chattering to whoever was on the other end of the line about a contract you hadn’t signed.

Frank was a little ashamed that he hid from you as you made your way towards the exit of the cemetery, but he figured that your conversation with Maria was something you didn’t want him to know about. He was so sure about his decision that it choked him up. He was going to ask you to marry him very soon. That he was sure about.

When Frank asked you to marry him, you were being coaxed awake by a soft voice, hands wondering over your back and brushing the hair from your eyes.

“Sweetheart,” Frank’s voice was like honey to your ears, “I’m sorry for waking you, but this is too important to wait until morning.”

You rubbed your eyes and clicked the lamp closest to you on. Frank was crouched down by your bed with a small smile on his face.

“What’s wrong, Frankie?” You asked, sitting up and checking him for cuts or bruises.

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.” He let out a soft laugh. “I just wanted to ask you to marry me, that’s all.”

He slowly set an open ring box on your lap. Your eyes went wide, searching his face for deception.

“What?” You gasped. This was unexpected, to say the least.

“I don’t think I could take another day without putting a ring on your finger...” he searched for the right words, even though he had been practicing this speech for hours, “I don’t have much to offer you, but I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

Your eyes grew teary as you smiled, palming his cheek.

“Oh, Frankie,” you mumbled, “Of course I’ll marry you, you beautiful, beautiful man.”

Frank let out a sigh of relief, tension leaving his shoulders, and smiled wide. Your grin matched his.

He plucked the ring out of the box, grasping your left hand and pushing the ring onto your ring finger. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into you and kissing his cheek.

“I love you so much, Frank,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

“I love you, Sweetheart.”

Frank’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as you jumped out of bed, hurriedly running towards the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” He called after you.

“I have to call Karen and tell her!” You responded, voice carrying across the apartment.

“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” he said, laughing, “Can’t it wait until later?”

End Note: I love the idea of Frank finding someone who he can trust and fully love after Maria's death. I hope if we ever see him in the MCU again, he'll be happy and healthy :'). Thank you for reading!

Requests are open!

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@alexxavicry

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petertingle-yipyip · 1 year

Text

MAD AT GOD - MATT MURDOCK

Season Three - Aimed To Kill

tags: @mayasaurus--rex @americaarse @dusstory @johnmurphys-sass @ironprincessstranger @astrobees @woowwwee // four // six // masterlist

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Word Count: 10,424

Summary: Pages turn and bridges burn as Ex realizes the extent that she’s behind. When sentiment thrives amongst the chaos between her and her first love, question becomes whether they can fix their hearts with the lips that have left scars on each other.

Ray sent you home after your conversation. A team remained for cleanup and analysis, and you offered to help, but you were told to go home. He said for you to take care of yourself, write down whatever important things you didn’t want to forget, and he’d see you in the office for a debrief tomorrow. You tried to wait for Karen or Foggy, but Ray said if you wouldn’t leave on your own, he would walk to your car himself.

You thought about going home, about sleeping off the whole ordeal. But your mindless driving took you to the church. Once you pulled up, your feet guided you through the rod-iron gate out front without hesitation and through the heavy wood doors with your chest growingly inexplicably tighter with each step.

Your feet seemed to know where to go more than your head because before you knew it, you were just around the corner from the gate. You took a deep breath and built the pressure in your chest to a pinnacle. You let it out as a controlled exhale and felt the thrumming of your pulse slow to its usual pace.

“You’re missing the point! He didn’t just find someone to wear my suit.” Matt argued so you stayed around the corner to listen in, hiding your presence behind a bubble of indifference. “He’s as fast and skilled as I’ve ever seen, and I couldn’t take him. He found someone to kill me.”

“Matthew.” Sister Maggie tried.

“I was stupid enough to think that I had Fisk cornered. He knew I’d find the witness and I just brought the sheep to the slaughter.”

You shook your head slightly, feeling that slap of guilt.

“Jasper Evans is dead. He’s dead and he leaves a son behind and that’s on me! … I was so sure that I was finally out in front of this bastard. God, and I was stupid enough to put Y/N in the middle of it.”

You stepped inside quietly and stood beside Maggie. Her head snapped towards your sudden presence, but she offered a small, thankful smile. You gently took the cloth from her hand and moved towards Matt. He jerked away from your touch but you grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. He huffed in annoyance and you quietly rolled your eyes.

“Fisk knew I thought that I had him. He was waiting for me.” Matt’s rant continued, though his anger was now wavering between that heat - a heat that so familiarly blasted from him - and suffocating guilt. “Of course he was waiting for me.”

You worked calmly and quietly as you began undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“Foggy and Karen could’ve been killed.” Matt tried.

Your movements paused at the last button when you realized he was right. But your head cocked in thought when you also realized that they weren’t killed. He hardly touched them… Why kill everyone else but them? “And there would’ve been nothing I could’ve done to stop it. Nothing.”

“You’re losing blood. Let me stitch you up!” Maggie insisted and Matt’s brows furrowed slightly, clearly having assumed the person touching him was the familiar nun.

“I listened to you. I listened to you and they almost died.” Matt continued, though one bloodied hand reached forward and found your face.

You couldn’t hide the smile as his thumb traced your features. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh, his mouth threatening to reveal a smile. That prior tightness in your chest dissipated almost instantly when you saw that you still meant something special to him. While their conversation continued, you were thinking of an old memory from college.

————————————

“Does that even work?” You giggled and dropped on the bed beside Matt. He turned his head in your direction with a content smile. “They do it on TV but is it actually a thing?”

“It helps, yeah.” He nodded. “You don’t have to though.”

“Do you want to?”

He gave a small shrug. “Foggy’s pretty much told me what you look like. The guy couldn’t stop talking about you for a week after we first met. It was always ‘how did we not know she was in our classes?’ and ‘how is a girl like that trynna be a lawyer?’.”

“Huh.” You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I’m gonna kick Franklin’s ass.” You laughed before sitting up fully and patting Matt’s chest. “C’mon, get up.”

“Why?” He asked, though he did as he was told.

“So we can do this.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

You could tell he was trying to keep down his smile as his hand hovered near your cheek. You felt a twisting in your stomach and realized for the first time in a long time, you had butterflies. Your skin was buzzing with excitement as you waited for Matt’s gentle touch. He giggled quietly and pulled his hands away.

“What’s wrong?” You laughed.

“Nothing.” He insisted with a grin. “Nothing, I swear.”

Your brows raised expectantly and he licked his lips with a smile as he raised his hands again. You laughed to yourself and grabbed his wrists to guide his hands. You slid his fingers into your hair at your temples and his thumbs ran along your forehead, following the path of your hairline.

You watched his expression shift, though there was always a smile on his face. His brows raised and furrowed as his thumbs continued to travel your face, skimming over your eyebrows as his fingers traced the curve of your ears. You giggled slightly when he got your eyes and the touch against your lashes made your eyes close.

“Can you smile?” He asked softly when both palms slid to your cheeks.

Your eyes opened and you saw the soft expression he wore. That look alone was enough to bring out an honest smile, thinking about how sweet and honest Matt was. He gave you a chance to be soft in a way you never had before. You had always thought yourself synonymous with bloody knuckles and gun powder. You wanted to be something to fear, to make people afraid to hurt you. But when Matt was around, all your jagged edges seemed to be rounded out.

His thumbs traced your cheeks to the bridge of your nose. You bit down the smile as his pointer fingers made their way to your lips, gingerly tracing the shape. One hand fell away while the other gave your cheeks a gentle squeeze, making you laugh.

“What was that for?” You asked and he laughed with you as he pulled both hands back to his lap.

“Nothing.” He answered innocently. “You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Matt.. So are you.”

“Yeah?” His brows raised as a slight pink tinted his cheeks.

“Yeah…” You smiled softly. “Y’know, I’m really glad we met.”

“Me too.”

————————————

Maggie tapped your shoulder and you pulled back into the present moment. You turned to see her handing you a bowl with the supplies to stitch him up. She offered a quick nod before disappearing and you blinked the pink tint from your vision.

“I don’t know if I can beat the man he sent to kill me, Y/N/N.” Matt confessed softly as you moved across the room to wash your hands.

“Have you forgotten everything I taught you?” You asked simply.

“I’ve thought about everything between us a lot lately.” He said softly, all anger fading to the back for a moment as he appeared at your side. “Good and bad.”

“And there’s been a lot of both.”

“Mostly my fault.”

You turned to him with a clean wet cloth in hand. You gently grabbed his jaw and turned his head down towards you. He snorted a quiet chuckle while you gently cleared the blood from his nose and mouth.

“Well I’m not exactly a cake walk to have around… Just ask Marc. Or Billy. Or Frank. Or either of my cousins.. Hell, you could ask Karen.” You laughed slightly.

“I’m serious, Y/N/N.” He offered a small, lopsided smile.

“Y’know, I thought you might've turned off your heart, cause that just wasn’t you last time I saw you, when we were at Jasper’s.. But this guilt makes more sense.”

“You don’t seem very fazed that our friends could’ve died.” He commented as your hands returned to their place in his chest and began stitching him up.

“Yeah...” Your brows furrowed as you thought back to your realization from just moments ago. “They could’ve. But they didn’t.”

“He knew from the start, since I went to the prison. He knew I’d find Jasper.”

“Shut up for a second.” You shook your head, pausing your hands to let your brain work through your thoughts. You slowly began tapping your finger against his chest and he looked down at you with raised brows. “So why didn’t he kill them?”

“What?”

“The imposter could've killed them both. You were down and I had barely gotten to my feet, which was after he had already pulled a trigger on Jasper.” You stopped and turned your head up to face Matt again. “He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to give chances. So why not kill them too? Why not kill all of us?”

“Cause that wasn’t the plan.” Matt finished.

“No… He wasn’t sent to clear the place. The journalists and whatever damage he did from that was his own idea, probably only killing people that fought back. He was sent to send a message. To me and you, to the public, and every crime syndicate in New York. If he can wreck your public image, it shows that the people can’t trust you anymore. And by making it look like you’ve snapped and you work for him now, criminal groups across the city will see him as untouchable.”

“FBI protects him inside. Daredevil protects him outside. Makes it look like not even Exodus can’t touch him.”

“Untouchable. Like she’s fighting a losing battle…” Your fingers continued the steady movements to stitch him up. “We’ve gotta find this guy sooner rather than later.”

“I couldn’t stop him, but you could.” His brows furrowed but you ignored the look he gave you and focused on finishing the stitches. “How’d you know how to beat him?”

“His first instinct was to throw the club, which told me pretty much everything I needed to know.” You explained, though it was partially a lie. “He was strong, sure. But it was easy to tell his advantage was with distance and projectiles. When you two were going at it, he had trouble blocking everything which showed a lack in hand to hand experience. I saw a fighter that relied on brute strength or distance. The way he carried himself reminded me of the military, and in my experience, military men can’t defend against me very well. He couldn’t get me until I let up or got distracted.”

“Your experience.” He chuckled. “How many military men do you have experience with?”

“I don’t owe you that answer.” You said simply.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that’s not a very discreet way to ask who I’ve been sleeping with.”

“What?” He feigned innocence.

“I know you were at the apartment. What gave it away?”

“I could smell the colognes in the bedroom.” He admitted.

You let the silence settle for a moment until he began fiddling with his fingers.

“Four.” You finally answered and his brows raised in mild shock. “Two of them would’ve been recent enough that you could tell but they were just to pass the time. Well that’s kind of a lie. I was starting to like one of them until he turned around and shot me. The other two of them actually mattered, but one of them’s like my family. They’ve never been in the bedroom like that.”

“Hmm… Couch?” He tried to joke.

You smacked his arm.

“Neither of them have been in the apartment.” You specified.

“Your math is wrong, by the way. That was five.”

“No, it’s four.. There’s some overlap.”

“Would I uh… Would I know any of them?”

“Names, yes. Actual people, some. And to answer that other burning question that’s stamped on your forehead, no. I never slept with Frank.”

“I didn’t-“

“You assumed the only military guy we had in common… You were dead. What else was I supposed to do?” You gave a small shrug and dropped the supplies to the sink.

“I know.”

“Y’know, I really thought we could make it..”

“We still can.” He said softly, as if the words would break him. As if admitting those words in your presence was the last crumble of his resolve to stay away in the name of your protection.

And maybe they did. All you knew for sure was that whatever hard casing had shattered in your chest earlier that night, it would never fully solidify again. You were each other’s greatest weakness. The clearest vulnerability, but your greatest strength came from each other. Your best feats came when you two were together. Fisk knew that, and that’s why he wanted to separate you two.

Matt waited for you to turn back towards him and when you did, he took your hand and guided you to the small bed tucked in the corner.

“The suit he was wearing...” You remembered, hoping to redirect the conversation to the fight.

“Yeah, it was perfect.” Matt agreed.

“I think we’ll need to see Melvin.” You sighed and turned to him.

His brows furrowed as his head tilted, listening in on something. Your head cocked as you watched and waited for him to talk about it.

“Are your ribs bothering you again?” He asked suddenly. “It sounds like the bones are rubbing together.”

“Probably. He slammed me a few times and I took a tumble down the stairs earlier but it doesn’t hurt.” You sat up taller to prod the area but Matt’s hand was already pressing against the bones while the other was against your back for stability. You winced sharply and grabbed his wrist. “Yeah, they’re busted. I’ll deal with it later.”

“I can’t really feel it. Can I…” He gestured to your shirt.

You shook your head softly but stripped off your jacket and button-up. You gave Matt a side eye as you undid the velcro straps on your vest but he held a look of innocent concern. You pulled the vest over your head with a wince, leaving you in the black compression top that was underneath.

“Don’t think you're gonna get me out my clothes that easy anymore, Murdock.” You teased and he smiled as you guided his hands back.

“Guess I still got it.” He answered lowly as he pressed against your rib cage. You let a sound between a whine and a groan, which made Matt quickly turn to face you. “Never heard you make that sound before.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes in amusement.

“What about your hip? Where the knife went in?” His fingers slid down and pressed the joint of your hip.

“It’s fine, should be just a scar by now.” You looked down at his hand and saw the dark purple shapes on the back of your forearms from where you blocked the baton earlier that night. You hummed in acknowledgment and lifted your arms to better see the bruises.

Matt was quick to reach up and run his fingers along your skin, feeling the slight swelling of the discolored area. He sighed slightly and leaned forward, sliding his hands to have a better grip on your hips. He offered a quiet, pleading expression and gave your body a slight pull. You hesitantly scooted closer, lifting a leg to rest on his lap.

“My last fight was a lot worse. Still got out better than you did.” You said softly, brushing your fingers across his forehead to move his hair back. “You feeling okay?”

“Careful, Y/N.” His eyes closed and a small smile crossed his lips. “I might start to think you still love me.”

“I wouldn’t be down here if I didn’t.” You confessed quietly. “I had to make sure we didn’t lose you again.”

He shifted back on the bed slightly and pulled your hips again, this time pulling you over his lap. He draped your arms over his shoulders before his hands ran up and down the sides of your thighs. You leaned your forehead to rest on his and he tilted his head back so his lips brushed yours.

“You know there are some things we need to talk about.” You said quietly.

“I know..”

“And I can’t stay down here forever.”

“Yeah, just… Just let me hold you for a little longer.”

You nodded slightly and his arms snaked around your waist, allowing you to wrap yours around his shoulders. You leaned forward to drop your head against his shoulder and his chin rested on top of your head. He took a deep breath and his arm held you a little closer. In turn, you felt a rattling in your chest. The sensation was true for what you and Matt felt about your current relationship. Uncertain, shaky at best with a cracked foundation. But there was a familiar tug as well, like a string tied from his heart to yours.

“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me anymore.” He mumbled against your shoulder before he pulled back. “I can’t keep you with me.”

“I can protect myself.” You answered with a small smile. “And I can feel that you want me here, Matty. You can say whatever you want but you can’t hide that longing in your chest.”

He hesitated to go any further, though his hands held you a bit tighter. You let your own hands run up the back of his neck and your fingers pushed into his hair. He let out a chuckle in relief and pressed his lips fully against yours.

Your lips moved together as if no time had passed. You let out a soft moan when he gently pulled you closer and you let all your guards crumble away.

Suddenly, Matt could feel her pulse against his skin with the small noise she made. He could hear more than just the bones rubbing together in her chest. He heard the way her heart was pounding and her breath was growing shallow. He slid his hands up to the exposed skin of her sides and he loved how he heard her heart pick up and the gasp that fell from her lips. He continued to push his hands under her shirt until his fingers found the hem of her bra.

His head was screaming for him to let her go, to force her to leave and keep her safe. He was yelling at himself to say something hurtful, to break her heart and send her off hating him. He knew she’d be safer that way, as far away from as she could get. But Matt recognized that she wouldn’t go for that. She’d never leave his side if she had a choice, and she wouldn’t let Matt take that choice from her.

She pulled her lips away just enough to offer a small, silent nod. She helped him remove her shirt and to stifle the groan. Once the fabric was gone, Matt gently switched positions so she could lay on her back. He carefully climbed on top of her and felt her hands trail down his chest. His eyes closed as her fingertips ghosted over the various scars across his abdomen, as if she wanted to see if they were still there. Maybe that was how she could convince herself it was real, that he was real. He felt her hands falter on one that she wouldn’t know, one that came from Midland Circle. But he knew she wasn’t feeling it in a bad way. She was feeling it to remember it, to add it to the memory she kept of his body.

He had added a few new scars of hers to his memory as well. The tattoos at the back of her neck. Deep lines around her wrist that were interrupted by a shallow circle on either side, a short but raised mark near her belly button. The newest one at her hip that he had yet to feel. He felt the slight divot along her jaw earlier that night. Whatever she had gone through in his absence, she’d never be able to forget it. He still wondered what happened, but in those moments where he had her hands and lips on him, he couldn't bring himself to stop and ask. He decided it would be a story for another time.

The moment only broke when Y/N gently pushed his chest away.

“Maybe this isn’t a great idea..” You said gently.

“Yeah..” He answered simply, as if that was the reaction he expected from you. “You’re probably right.”

“I still wanna stay.” You offered as he moved to lay beside you.

“I thought you couldn’t.”

“Tell me to go and I will.”

“And if I want you to stay”?

“Tell me and I will.”

You woke later that night - or maybe it was early morning - when your phone was ringing on the floor. You freed yourself from Matt’s arms and slid from the small bed to the floor. You found your phone in your jacket and leaned your back against the bed while you answered.

“Yeah?” You mumbled, eyes still closed and sleep dripping from your voice.

“Hey.” Dex’s voice answered and it felt like you were slapped awake. Every muscle in your body tensed as you expected an accusation of your alter ego. “Just callin’ to see if you’re home. I wanted to come by.”

“Isn’t it kinda late for that?”

“I was just hoping we could talk.. I heard about what happened at the Bulletin.”

“They’re talking about it already?” Your brows furrowed.

“No, not really.” He said carefully and it was clear he was fabricating his lie as he went. “Ray told me you got a little banged up and I should check on you.”

You knew you had to redirect the conversation quickly or else he might realize that he didn’t see you there, if he hadn’t realized already.

“You don’t have to. I’ve gotten worse than a few bumps and bruises. But hey, while I got you, I wanted to ask if there was any word on your leave? I didn’t get a chance to see if Ray knew anything.”

“Uh… No. No, I haven’t heard anything. No.”

“That’s too bad.” You feigned disappointment. “Tonight probably would’ve been different if you were with me.”

“Yeah…” He paused on the other line and you knew you still had some hooks in him you could pull. “Well, I guess I’ll let you go. Sorry to wake you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Hopefully I get you back with me soon, yeah?”

“Yeah… Yeah, soon. Back with.. with you.”

When you walked into work that morning, you were immediately blasted with familiar feelings from Karen. You followed that calling and ended up in the conference room with Foggy and Karen on one side and Ray on the other. Karen let out a tense sigh and jumped to meet you in a tight embrace, so tight you had to swallow the groan when she squeezed your ribs. Foggy was next, a short embrace followed by a tap on your arm.

“Y/L/N. Glad you’re here. How do you feel?” Ray asked when you stood beside him.

“Little banged up.” You gestured to the still red cut on your forehead. “But I’m not sitting this out. I get you had to pull me from the Murdock investigation but you’re letting me stay on this thing.”

“Yeah.” He gave a small smile. “Wouldn’t do it without you.”

“Great.” You nodded and took a seat beside Ray. “Fill me in.”

“We were addressing that, according to her own paper, Ms. Page has met Daredevil at least twice.” He explained and slid a paper across the table, citing the articles Karen had written.

“That psycho’s not Daredevil.” She countered and shoved the paper back.

“I got a pretty good look at him, too. Could’ve fooled me.” Ray countered, not acknowledging that you had told him something similar the night before.

“Do you think every fat guy with a white beard and red suit is Santa Claus?” Foggy countered and you had to smile.

“If he comes down my chimney and leaves presents under the tree.”

“Devil’s in the details there, Ray.” You added carefully. “That guy would’ve acted like Santa. If he did all of that, this guy didn’t act like Daredevil.”

“Based on how many encounters?” Ray turned to you.

“Couple.” You shrugged.

“He doesn’t kill people, ever. It’s not Daredevil.” Karen insisted. “Did you ever look into Felix Manning? Red Lion Bank?”

“They’re on my to-do list.”

“This is bullshit.”

“Look, Karen, he dropped your name.” You added but you weren’t speaking to her an FBI agent. You were speaking to her as her friend, as her vigilante friend, and she knew that. “He had a chance to kill you, but he didn’t. You were the one person left untouched. I know this seems like bullshit but we need to get these pieces to line up somehow.”

“It won’t.” Foggy cut in. “Not until you two start asking the right questions.”

“And what are those, Mr. Nelson?”

“How about this? Where’s Matt Murdock?” Ray interjected, looking at Foggy and then you.

You simply shrugged.

“Yet another fine example of a question that’s besides the friggin’ point!”

“You were supposed to deliver him to us-“ He gestured between the two of you. “-but there are zero Matt Murdocks in my custody.”

“And zero Jasper Evans left alive.” Karen added. “He killed the one person who had dirt on Fisk, but you knew that already. Is that why you don’t wanna go there?”

“Ms. Page.” You warned.

“What? That nut job did Agent Nadeem a huge favor. Now there’s no one left to tell the world what a fool Fisk is making of the FBI.” Karen continued.

“Did you know Daredevil was-“ Ray began.

“Daredevil imposter.” You cut in, earning a look of disbelief from Ray. “I’ll show you later.”

“Regardless.” He turned back to Karen. “Did you know he was gonna attack the Bulletin? Is that why you brought your gun?”

“Oh, come on.” You groaned as Foggy announced “We’re done here.”

Your friends were quick to leave the room, leaving you and Ray.

“What are you doing? I thought you didn’t get a good look at him.” Ray said lowly, almost angrily.

“No but you know who did, other than Karen?” You reached into your pocket and pulled an old thumb drive. “Outside my door this morning. I already checked it and it’s clean. No malware, no viruses, no tracking. Just a comparison of this Daredevil and the real Daredevil.”

After you left Matt the morning before work, you downloaded the footage from your mask. You found a few shots of Dex in the suit and downloaded those frames as pictures. You found a few old shots of Matt in the suit that matched the same framing and downloaded those as well.

“Do I wanna know who gave this to you?” He asked as he carefully took it.

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” You shrugged. “Could be an amateur photographer. I know Jameson at the Bugle is always looking for freelancers. Just give me a chance to explain it all, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You hurried out of the room and found Karen and Foggy not too far across the office.

“Evans wouldn’t have come to Bulletin if I hadn’t threatened his son.” Karen said sadly.

“His son will be alright.” You said honestly as you joined them. “My cousin is gonna get in touch and let him know, give him some money and help him start over. It’s not ideal but he’ll be okay.”

“We need to find Matt and-“ Foggy tried.

“No, I’m gonna head to the hospital.” Karen cut in, her voice weak with regret and guilt.

“Call me if you need anything.” You offered on her way out and she nodded. You sighed softly before facing Foggy again and speaking quietly, pulling him a few steps to the side. “Matt’s okay. I checked on him last night.”

“You know where he is?” His brows furrowed.

“Yeah, I guess I always had a feeling. I took a chance and it worked out.. Anyway, he’s a little worse off than me but he’ll be fine.”

“You guys have anything?”

“Sort of.” Your head tilted back and forth. “I’ve got some ideas and a basic construct, but we’ve gotta go to the guy that made the suit in the first place.”

“Think he’ll talk?”

“Yeah, he’s a good enough guy. Fisk had to have twisted his arm to get him to go along with it.” You nodded. “I’m gonna look into it on my lunch, assuming he doesn’t go rogue and do it without me.”

“I’m glad you two are working together again. What does it mean for you two?.”

“I don’t know yet, but my priority is keeping you three safe. I don’t care what I have to do.”

“Y/N.” He sighed.

“Y/L/N!” Ray called from down the hall. “Back to work. Let’s go.”

You patted Foggy’s arm and headed back into the office, following Ray towards a meeting with the warden. Ray filled you in quickly on the walk that you two were going to figure out how Jasper got out in the first place.

Apparently fake books wasn’t the most obvious solution.

You sat on the edge of the desk while Ray handled most of the conversation.

“How did some just check the wrong box?” You chuckled. “If you can’t give me a legitimate path to investigate, it’s gonna fall on your head. Forging federal documents is a crime and you will be serving time if you don’t give us answers. And something tells me those prisoners would love to spend some time with you.”

He stared at you and Ray and you felt the panic. He knew he was cornered, but he was also a coward. Whatever Fisk held over him, it was worth a jail sentence.

“I want my lawyer.” He said finally.

You two were then sitting in the SAC’s office and running over what had just happened. You were quiet while Ray went over everything. He told her what happened with Karen, what Jasper was supposed to say, what happened with the warden.

“You believe Evans?” She looked to you.

“Why would he risk his life for a lie?” You shrugged. “And if the warden had nothing to hide, why bother with lawyers?”

“Alright. We gotta kick this up the chain. I’m calling the ADIC.”

“And tell him we don’t know all the facts?” Ray questioned quickly.

“There’s a damn good chance Fisk is manipulating us.”

“I warned you guys this would happen.” You muttered and crossed your arms.

“Shut it.” She pointed firmly to you.

“We need two days. Let us get all the facts.” Ray tried and you had to admit, you admired his determination. “When we can prove Fisk had been playing us, we can bury that son of a bitch together.”

“Leave him to fend for himself against all the people he’s burned.” You agreed.

She shooed you two away and said that you had forty eight hours. You and Ray went back to his office and were comparing the images from your thumb drive.

You pointed out the height differences. Dex had at least two inches on Matt. You showed the difference in jaw shape. Dex’s was more square compared to Matt’s rounded chin. The facial hair difference was clear. Dex stayed clean shaven while Matt opted for light scruff. Their builds were different too, slightly broader shoulders and a narrower waist on Matt. With the photos in front of him, Ray couldn’t deny that they were two different men.

Throughout the day, you learned that the FBI had raided a workshop where Melvin Potter was working, a man who had helped make suits and protection for Fisk. But that was the same man that made yours, Matt’s and now Dex’s suits. You heard talk of a second man there, but only Melvin was in custody. You felt terrible, knowing that when you went to Melvin on your own for help he was more than willing. Now, there was nothing you could do for him because Matt went without you.

You skipped going with Ray to talk to Fisk that night. You told him you didn’t want to see or hear anything from him. You didn’t feel like dealing with more lies so you just headed home. Ray asked if you wanted to come to a small promotion party, just so you didn’t have to be alone, but you politely declined.

You were just getting to your building when you got a call from Maggie asking if you knew where Matt had gone. You answered honestly, that you had no idea but you’d find him. You opened yourself to his emotions and found him, still on his way to wherever he was going. You hurried across town, stopping a few houses down from here you thought you tracked him to. You stripped off your jacket and button-up, threw on your long-sleeve top, and grabbed the mask and Bites from your glove box before hurrying to the right house.

“I’m Daredevil.. The real one.” Matt said when you got into the room. You hurried across and pulled him back by his shoulders to get him off Ray.

“Are you insane?” You asked quietly.

“You don’t look like-“ Ray began.

“I buried the red suit.” Matt cut in. “The man who attacked the Bulletin, he resurrected it.”

“You do, however, match the description of a guy who’s been tuning up FBI agents. Does Agent Y/N Y/L/N ring a bell?” Your head snapped to Ray as he continued. “Heard she kicked your ass so bad you ran off. Maybe I should call her.”

You smirked slightly and Matt threw a discreet elbow into your arm.

“It was the last thing I wanted, but you people-“ He pointed a finger in Ray’s face. You reached over and pulled his hand down, bending his finger back slightly to earn a groan. “-didn’t leave me any choice. If you’d just wake the hell up instead of playing into Fisk’s hands. He’s using you, and I think you know it.”

“You went after the guy at the Bulletin.” Ray turned to you. “You didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even look at the other agents in that stairwell. Why?”

“Because I know who my partner is.” You put a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “And I know who my enemies are. He would’ve killed you too, Agent Nadeem.”

“Who do you think the real danger is here?” Matt added. “Me or him?”

The conversation paused for a minute while Ray had to redirect his son back upstairs.

“Let’s say I believe the two that just broke into my house.” Ray said tightly. “What do you got?”

“The man who attacked the Bulletin dressed as Daredevil… He’s in the FBI.” Matt answered and you felt your blood rush down to your feet.

“What?” You asked quietly. “How do you know?” Matt looked over at you. “How do you know?”

“I found the man that made the suit. He told me that he didn’t know his name, but he knew he was in the FBI. So tell me, which of your agents has Fisk been especially interested in?”

You zoned out for the rest of the conversation. When you got a chance, you snuck out the door. You were quick to change and get back in your car. Instead of going home and ignoring it, you drove to the church. You headed downstairs and waited on the small bed until Matt got there.

“You already knew, didn’t you?” Matt challenged as he stepped inside, tossing his mask across the room while he went to wash his hands.

“You were supposed to wait for me.” You countered.

“Who is he?”

“Why would you think I know?” You stood.

“Who is he, Y/N?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.” He turned to face you.

“Am I?” You tilted your head with a slight squint. “Or is it that you can’t tell so you’re trying to trap me?”

“Why are you protecting him?” He shouted and your jaw clenched. The worst part was that you didn’t know how to answer that.

You didn’t know if you were or if it was to protect Matt. If you took down Fisk, Dex would go down too. Start at the top and the bottom crumbles. Matt couldn’t face Dex on his own. He’d already proven that. He needed your help, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“I’m trying to protect you but you won’t listen to me!”

“Listen to you? Listen to you? Y/N, you’ve been lying to me! Why should I listen?”

“Cause you already know you can’t beat him without me.” You said simply, trying to gain some composure. “Whether or not you know his name, he will beat you every time. Next time, he will probably kill you.”

“Why didn’t you stop it?”

“How was I supposed to do that?” You scoffed.

“You know how. It gets you everything you want, doesn’t it?”

“What, this?” You raised your brows and pulled fear to Matt’s surface, watching him cough and choke slightly before clearing it away. “I can’t control everyone.”

“That’s how you knew how to beat him.” He continued and you didn’t bother arguing. “Because you know exactly who he is.”

“I have an idea.” You said carefully.

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. You know.”

You didn’t know why you were protecting Dex, but you couldn’t bring yourself to throw his name out there. Maybe it was your own pride. You wanted to take him down yourself. Maybe it was just some loyalty to him as a partner or some pathetic hope that some sliver of a redeemable man was left.

“I don’t have any proof.” You said, which wasn’t a lie. But you did know how to get it.

“Y’know, I knew you were a good liar, but I didn’t think you’d lie to me.”

“Are you seriously talking to me about lying?” You laughed in disbelief. “You lied for how long about being dead?”

“That’s not the same!”

“No, you’re right. It’s worse!”

“My lie didn’t kill anyone!”

“It almost killed me.” You admitted. His brows furrowed as he faced you, trying to figure out what you meant. “The night after Midland, I thought about drowning myself in the tub. Almost did it, too. And the scar on my wrist that you were so interested in last night? Gunshot, nearly bled out from it. I almost died at the carousel because I didn’t care what happened to me.”

“I didn’t make you do that.” He said quietly.

“You didn't make me… You’re right. You didn’t. But you weren’t here to stop me either. And that was your choice. You always knew where to find me, Matt. But you hid out down here.”

“I’m not the one that can make people feel what she wants. You could’ve stopped them from trying to kill you. You could’ve stopped all of this!”

“You aren’t listening to me! You never listen to me!” You shouted and pushed him by his chest. “I only let my powers go so far, because if I don’t, then nothing‘s real.”

“How far did they go with me?” He asked suddenly, and the question seemed to shock him as much as it did you.

Matt realized it immediately after he said it. That was what he was looking for the night before. When he was thinking of what to say that’d be hurtful enough to break her, to push her away for good. It was the idea of challenging the validity of the relationship they had. He let out a small sigh when he realized that what he said had done more than hurt her. It shattered whatever was left of her heart, whatever had just been putting itself back together.

“What?” You asked softly.

“Was it ever real? My feelings for you.” He didn’t know why he kept going, but he did.

“Did you love me when I wasn’t around?” Your eyes fell to the floor as you backed away, a sharp pain stemming from your chest. “Did you still care about me before I came back?”

“Yeah…”

You swallowed the stinging sensation that was climbing your throat and lifted your eyes to Matt, taking careful steps forward. “Did you ever question it before you knew what I could do?”

He shook his head.

“There’s your answer… The worst part of my powers is not really knowing if I’m messing with someone or if it’s real. But I guess I know what it is with you. And I really wanted everything with us to be real. I was as honest as I knew how to be when it came to you, but you still can’t trust me.”

“Y/N, wait.” Matt realized he couldn’t go through with it. He couldn’t let her leave with that kind of hurt, not when it was his fault.

“No. No, you don’t get to try and pull a punch you’ve already thrown. You can’t backtrack this time..” You shook your head and turned to leave.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N, please.”

“You always say what you mean, Matt. After everything I’ve done, I thought you would’ve trusted me by now. But y’know what, fine. You wanna be alone? Be alone.”

You turned on your heels and were storming towards the stairs to leave when you felt his hand on your wrist. You reached over with your free hand and twisted his arm over as you stepped underneath and behind him. You kicked out his front knee and forced him down, quickly moving one hand to press at the base of his shoulder. You pulled your knee back and as you drove it forward, his other hand came up to block it. You pulled your foot back again but threw it for a kick this time, only to have Matt catch it by your ankle.

He yanked your forward and you went stumbling, releasing his arm so your hands could catch yourself on the nearest marble statue.

“Would you just listen to me?” He tried as he got to his feet.

“Like you’ve been listening to me?” You laughed. “Like you listened when I begged you not to stay under Midland?”

“How many times do I have to apologize for that?” He asked loudly, throwing his hands to the side.

“I don’t want your apology. I want you to admit you were wrong.”

“I did what I thought would be better for you.”

You let out a loud sound of frustration and moved at him. You threw a roundhouse that he leaned away from but your momentum carried you around so you spun and shot a back kick that landed against his chest. As he stumbled, you did a quick shuffle to replace your feet and reset yourself to face him. Left jab that he knocked away. Right hook that he ducked. A small growl sounded from deep in your throat as you walked in a small circle around him. He kept his hands up in anticipation as he spun with you, trying to keep you in front of him.

“You think all of this is easy for me?” You asked plainly, feeling every inch of your skin burning with your newly soaked anger. “Easy having you alive. Easy having to go against someone I work with, someone who helped save my life. Karen and Foggy and Lantom and Maggie, all of them wanted me to build bonds and create relationships with people so I wasn’t alone anymore. Well, look where it got me!”

“This is why I stayed away, Y/N.” He tried.

“Bullshit.” You scoffed. “You were being selfish.”

“I knew you had a good life. I knew I would only mess it up.”

“You didn’t mess up my life by coming back. You messed it up when you left, when you betrayed me.”

His hands faltered and you used it to your advantage. You moved quickly and slammed a knee against his chest. It forced him back and he grabbed both of your upper arms to keep you close.

“I couldn’t have betrayed you.” He spoke with a gentle firmness, an honest plea for you to believe him. “I never meant to-“

“What we do isn’t an accident! You don’t accidentally stay under a falling building for your ex-girlfriend. You don’t accidentally stay away from your actual girlfriend for months. You don’t accidentally tell someone that you never really trusted them!”

“You think I ever wanted to hurt you?” He countered. “After knowing where you came from, what you were supposed to be and what your mission was, I thought it was only a matter of time before you hurt me.”

“You think I never sat there and wondered if you were pretending? I never thought I was worth anything more than a bullet.”

“I’ve cared about you since we met, Y/N. You were always worth that.”

“I wasn’t!” You placed the other foot against the wall and kicked off , turning you two so you could slam him to the ground. “I loved you!”

“And I still love you! It was real. I know it was. I know it because you brought something to my life that I can’t stand the thought of losing.”

“Then why would you ask if it was real?” You asked softly, heart twisting in your chest.

“I don’t know.” He admitted with a sigh.

“Liar!” You shouted and slammed a fist down.

He moved his head so your fist hit the ground and the impact jolted up your arm. You threw the punch again and again, hitting the same spot in the concrete until Matt rolled you two up to a sitting position. He put his hands on either side of your face in an effort to force your attention to him. He made a small noise of discomfort when his palms met your skin, likely due to the heat still radiating off you.

One hand was shaking, knuckles bruised and bloody from assaulting the hard ground, while the other gingerly held your injury. Reluctantly, your eyes met Matt’s and even though it seemed like he was looking through you, you knew he was focused on you.

“I was convinced…” He began softly and the gentle tone made the heat slowly dissipate. “I thought that I had to hurt you so you would leave. But I… I couldn’t do it, Y/N. I just couldn’t.”

“But you did.” You answered, your voice small and distant. You leaned away and got to your feet, ignoring the disappointment that you could feel coming from him.

Without another word, you left him on the floor.

The next day went about as expected. Ray was looking into a few agents, but he wouldn’t tell you much. You watched from the media room as he flipped through files before pulling the camera log from the wall behind him. You knew he had to have found the time when Dex had turned the cameras off, likely finding a time when you went in after him. You waited until Ray hurried out of the room before you followed. You claimed you were feeling dizzy from the head injury you had gotten at the Bulletin incident so no one tried to stop you. Instead, you grabbed your duffle from the trunk and took off.

You changed your work shirt for your vigilante top in the closest alleyway after following Ray’s car, waiting to watch him for a minute while you fitted your mask into place. He stood in the alley by himself for a minute, but you and Matt joined him at the same time.

“What’s his name?” Matt asked simply, turning his head towards your presence but saying nothing.

“I need to be sure about you two. You guys have a history of hurting people.” Ray said firmly, looking between you both.

“I want Fisk in prison.” You said honestly. “I don’t want to kill your agent, but if he insists on being in my way, I will go through him.”

“I’m not handing you a federal agent if you’re gonna kill him.”

“I’ll get to him whether you give him to me or not.” You stepped closer to Ray but Matt grabbed your wrist. You turned to face him as your skin grew warm. “Get your hand off me.”

“What happened to partners?” Matt asked quietly.

“That would mean you trust me.”

“C’mon, Ex. If this is about last night-”

“If you’re right about him, taking Fisk down is our job.” Ray cut in.

“Oh really?” Matt said flatly so you yanked your arm back. “Because we all know where he’s sleeping these days. But I understand.. If there’s one thing we agree on, Nadeem, it’s the greater good. Like house incarceration in exchange for good intel.”

“Not everyone will like the choices we make.” You added, keeping your voice level. “But it’s up to us to make those choices.”

Matt turned to you. “Sometimes you have to hurt one person to save them, and others.”

“Oh please.” You scoffed. “Just tell us the name, Agent.”

“I need your word that you won’t touch him.” Ray tried and you felt bad.

Dex was someone that Ray had trusted, someone Ray had worked with for a long time. Dex knew Ray’s family and they were friends. They were supposed to look out for each other. But now they found themselves on opposite sides of the law with vigilantes going after them. You wished there was a better way but you had to get Dex away from Fisk, otherwise you’d never lock the bastard back up.

“Our word can’t mean anything to you.” Matt reasoned.

“But I need to hear you give it.” Ray insisted.

“I need him to testify against Fisk, so you got it.” Matt said simply. “Her, too.”

“You don’t speak for me.” You countered. “But you won’t convince him to switch sides. Fisk has played too many games with him. One more switch and he snaps.”

“You know who he is?” Ray asked you and you gave a small shrug.

“It’s not hard to connect dots if you pay attention.”

“We’ll slip into his place, look for any evidence that ties him to the attack on the Bulletin and to Fisk.” Ray offered, clearly looking for a way to save Dex. “If we find any, we leave it where it is.”

“You can get around a search warrant if we set off the fire alarm.”

“Exactly. But if we don't find anything, the guy goes on with his life.”

“Spit it out.” Matt said plainly. “Who is he?”

You wondered if this attitude was due to your most recent conversation or if that was just who he was, and the softer night you two had was just a lapse in judgment. His accusations from the night before made you wonder if, subconsciously, you had manipulated Matt into that tender moment. Maybe the man you met in college truly was gone.

Maybe only the Devil remained.

“Special Agent Ben Poindexter.” Ray said tightly and you let out a small sigh.

Matt turned towards you and you knew there was accusation in his expression. He had to have remembered the name from when you talked about Dex before Midland Circle, when you were at Anvil and waiting to hear from the FBI. It had to have clicked in his head why you hid his identity.

Dex was your partner, your friend. He was there for you while Matt was gone. He wanted to fault you for it, and while he didn’t appreciate you hiding that from him, he wasn’t going to bring it up then.

Later that night, you were waiting for Matt on Dex’s fire escape.

You slid open the window when he got there and he moved to let Ray in the front door. You let them wander the apartment while you moved towards the safe in the closet. If he was keeping the suit in his place, that’s where it’d be.

“I can’t call a crew to crack that.” Ray sighed.

Matt moved forward and got to work on it.

“I know the combination. You don’t have to-” You spoke loudly, but Matt ignored you. “And you’re doing it anyway, Great.”

“Wait, he can do that?” Ray asked with wide eyes.

“Not if you two keep talking.” He answered tightly.

You mocked him quietly and tapped your mask. You let it load up before leaning closer to the safe. Your eyes searched each shelf but found nothing out of the ordinary.

“It’s not there.” You said quietly as Matt got the door unlocked.

The boys looked through the safe and found nothing they could use. You were turning to leave when you heard the click of a tape player. Turning back, you saw Matt with Dex’s cassette player in hand as one of his old therapy tapes played.

You sighed slightly and felt a sudden spike of panic.

“What did you leave Poindexter doing?” You asked Ray when you realized it was coming from the direction of the bureau. Your implant pinged in your head and you had a feeling it was Dex. But you couldn’t answer it in front of Ray, so you had to leave it alone.

“Talking to an attorney about a wrongful termination suit. Why?” Ray answered as Matt went through more tapes.

“Because something is going very wrong. He’s about to break.”

As they listened to more and more tapes, you paced the apartment anxiously. The longer you were there, the closer that panic and instability got. When Matt looked towards the door, you tapped your mask and saw Dex coming down the hall.

“Убирайся.” You told them, giving Matt a shove. “Both of you. Out, now. He’s here.”(Get out.)

“You should go.” Matt told Ray.

“No, we had a deal. No evidence means you two don’t touch him!” He insisted.

“I found evidence.” Matt tried.

You groaned slightly as the two argued back and forth. You cracked the door slightly and saw Dex pulling glass adornments off the nearest light fixture. You cursed yourself quietly and shut the door again before grabbing both men by the collars and shoving them out the window.

“Go, now.” You said firmly. “I’ve got the best chance if we’ve gotta fight him.”

“What- Fight him? You said-“ Ray tried but you raised a hand and forced fear to the surface to get him to run.

“Make sure he gets out of here.” You told Matt when he hesitated. “Don’t make me make you.”

“Ex, don’t.” He tried but you did the same to him. But instead of fear, you pulled his betrayal to the surface.

Matt knew it was you. He knew what he was feeling wasn’t that serious. It wasn’t enough to make him abandon you, to leave you to stand against Poindexter on your own. But that didn’t make the urge any easier to fight. So he ran.

When you heard the door sneaking open, you moved the fire escape and pressed your back against the wall. You pulled a knife from your belt and angled it so you could watch his movements. He crept through his apartment carefully, noting the misplaced items and tapes scattered across the table.

“Show yourself.” He called out and you glanced above to find Matt and Ray, but you found no one. It made you wish you had stuck Matt with another comms piece, but blind faith would have to do for the moment. “I know you’re out there.”

One of the glass sticks came flying out and bounced off the railing in front of to knock into your blade. You gasped slightly and stuck your foot out so it landed against you rather than the metal of the fire escape.

“I can see you.” He called as you knelt to pick it up.

“How can you see me from over there?” You answered as you stood carefully. With a blade in one hand, you pulled your gun with the other.

“I was lying. Did you really fall for that?” He replied and you made a face to yourself before stepping out.

Your gun was raised and the hand with the knife braced your wrist. He stood tense with another piece in hand and ready to throw.

“Well done. Not many people are bold enough to lie to me. What’s your name?” You asked.

“You first, then maybe I’ll do the same.” He nodded towards you.

“Nice try.” You smiled. “But two can play this game, and I have a feeling that I’m better at it than you are.”

“Don’t be so modest. I know you’re that vigilante. Let’s be honest here. You’re Exodus.” His body language relaxed a little as you stared him down, picturing the tension fall away like melted snow. “Badass out in Hell’s Kitchen. Unmatched so far, witty, and brains behind some of the best strategies he’s seen.”

“If you’re looking for a mentor, Dex, I can make sure your time is well spent. I can put you to better use than Fisk can. I’ve never been to prison so it’s not like I’ve gotten caught.”

“That’s your plan?” He chuckled in disbelief. “You and me, best friends?”

“We’ll see how it ends.” You shrugged.

“Okay.” He scoffed. “Wait.. How’d you know my name?”

“I’ve done my research. Ever since you attacked the Bulletin a few nights ago but didn’t kill me and you bragged like you knew me. Like you knew my story with the real Daredevil. I wanted to know who I would be up against. You’re good, I’ll admit it. Fisk made a good choice in picking you, an elite FBI SWAT sniper. And your partner, Y/N. She had some nice words to say, but she’s worried about you.”

“Y/N?” His brows furrowed and the tension rose again. “What did you do to her?”

“We just talked. She wants to save you from yourself.”

“That why she didn’t answer her phone? Did you hurt her?”

“No. But she is a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” You offered a wicked smile and his anger grew sharply.

“Leave her out of this.”

“Should I leave Julie out of it, too?” You mocked.

“What did you do to her?” He shouted.

“Nothing.” You answered innocently. “Yet.”

His head cocked as he silently questioned if you were serious. You took the chance to fire a bullet just over his shoulder, close enough to graze the material of his jacket. When he dropped to the floor, you rushed up the fire escape and slipped into the apartment above. You found Matt and Ray and were able to get them to the ground just as the bullets came in.

“The shot came from across the alley.” Ray said through heavy breathing. Looking over, you saw he was hit.

You were quick to kneel beside him and pull off a glove. You looked to Matt and took in his anger so you could push it to the palm of your hand. You pressed the palm against Ray’s side and he groaned loudly as the faint smell of burnt skin permeated the apartment. It wouldn’t heal the wound but it would at least slow the bleeding.

“I think it came from downstairs.” Matt countered.

“He’s ricocheting the bullets.” You confirmed, ignoring the look Ray gave you. “I’ve seen him do it a hundred times. If he can see you, he can hit you.”

Matt threw a newspaper and rolled to the other side, hiding behind a bookcase. He was talking to you about how many shots Dex had left and the fact that the cops were called when you looked around and realized something. Even from your angle behind the sofa, you could see Matt in the mirror on the door.

“The mirror.” You said to yourself and Ray noticed it at the same time.

You looked around and found a book on the coffee table. You pulled your arm back and threw it as hard as you could against the mirror, watching the reflective surface shatter when the next round of bullets came in. When Matt said to run, you helped Ray out the door before sliding to sit under the window sill. Using your mask to see the floor below, you saw Dex moving to the fire escape.

You pushed Matt out first and as you were climbing out, you saw Dex coming up the steps. You grabbed both railings and kicked both feet against his chest to send your partner tumbling back down. Matt turned around but you pushed for him to keep going. You heard the climbing stop below you just before Matt grabbed your arms and switched positions so he could block the glass sticks being thrown with a trash can lid.

You two were reaching the roof when one piece came up and cut the strap of your mask, nicking your ear in the process. You grabbed the railing and leaned over to catch it, only to make eye contact with Dex. His arm was already drawn back to throw another one but he froze, eyes wide as he saw you.

You could see him mouth your name but you were too far away to hear it. But you weren’t far enough to miss the heavy hit of betrayal against your chest. You didn’t know what to do but when you saw Dex’s features illuminated by the police flashlights, you snapped from your daze and hurried onto the roof. You paced the area in a panic with your mask tightly in your fist.

“Hey.” Matt said when he realized what was happening. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“He knows.” You said quickly. “He knows who I am.”

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americancowgirl19 · 2 years

Text

Stumbling Along the Edge

Summary: You lose something close to you and it pushes you over the edge, but you have two people who care about you and pull you back in.

Warnings: depression, this shit gets dark, doing vigilante activities drunk, some fluff

Reader: Gender Neutral

Pairings: Frank Castle x Gender Neutral Reader x Matt Murdock

Word Count: 2906

A/n:

Masterlist

It was all too much. There were too many emotions swirling in your chest and too many thoughts crowding your mind. You felt as if everything was overloading. It was simply - yet so complicatedly - too much.

It first started with the constant fighting between you and your lovers, Matthew Murdock and Frank Castle. If you were being honest with yourself, you had no idea why the three of you thought this relationship would even work. It started out as casual sex, mind-blowing sex but still just sex - and then somewhere in the pillow talk the three of you thought that being something more than just each other's release would work.

How could the three of you be so naive? Matt is a devout Catholic with a firm no killing rule that Frank gave zero shits about. Not only did Frank refuse to hold back his violent slaughters he had the emotional baggage of someone who lost their entire family. He had days where he would let you and Matt close and others where the guilt of moving on would cause him to push you both away.

The two of them alone had a lot of shit to work out but the relationship wasn't just them; it was all three of you. You were no saint either and carried your own baggage. You had no problem putting a bullet in someone's head. Sometimes the situation called for it. You weren't gung-ho like Frank but when push came to shove you pulled the trigger.

You were also a private person. It was hard to be open and let them into your personal life. Only when your relationship miraculously lasted three months did you begin to tell them about your family. By then you practically knew everything about Matt and Frank. As brash as Frank is, when it comes to you and Matt, he’s an open book. He’ll grumble about a lot of things, but he’ll tell both of you anything you want to know. Matt doesn’t always wait for either of you to ask about his life, he likes to share. He doesn’t always share the more... traumatic details openly but he’s certainly more open than you are.

The killings, you keeping your life private, and all of your other differences were starting to put a strain on the relationship. Lately it felt as if you were arguing more often than not. The sex was always rough and angry. You were always down for some rough sex but the lack of gentle touches and whispers of sweet nothings afterword’s were taking it’s tole on you.

On top of your relationship problems were your work problems. Your job had started out swimmingly. You loved it and looked forward to every day. That is until new managers were promoted, you being constantly looked over, and the assholes they hired to take the place of those that were promoted instead of you. Now the job you loved is now the one you loathed. Every morning you debated on whether you wanted to stay in bed and say fuck you to the world or man up and go to work.

But what pushed you over the edge was the news you got today. Your mother had called and told you your grandma passed. Your grandma was hands down the sweetest woman to walk the Earth. She was sweet and innocent. She had lived through so much shit; the depression, the second world war and every war to follow, but she swears the worst thing she lived through is the death of her husband. Your grandpa has been dead for years and you can see the pain in her eyes every time she would talk about him. She missed him dearly.

The only silver lining in this situation is your hope that she made it into the Heaven she believed so much in and is not enjoying a hot cup of coffee in a rocking chair right beside your grandpa. You hope they’re both young and with family that passed before them waiting patiently for the rest to join.

You imagine that all the family in Heaven is together enjoying a big BBQ. You know they’re bullshitting, drinking their poison and smoking their fat stogies. When both of your grandparents were alive, they had BBQs regularly. Now, you were lucky if your family came together for Christmas.

The news of your grandma’s death was a harsh blow to your shitty month. It was the icing on you shit cake.

With how estranged your nearly ten-month relationship is becoming you didn’t know if you were welcome with Frank and Matt. You didn’t want to add another problem to the list. They knew of your closeness with your grandma, it was one of the few things you had chosen to disclose to them. You didn’t want to tell them about what had happened and risk them turning you away.

The three of you haven’t talked in a couple of days. You feared that it was simply over, just like that. Even though the three of you seemed to argue like cats and dogs you cared for both of them deeply. You wanted to find comfort in them. You wanted them to hold you and put the rest of the world on pause. But you were afraid to reach out. You were afraid the relationship was just too broken.

Everything was too much. There was so much anger and sorrow, so much anxiety and pain. You felt as if you were suffocating. So, with as much strength as you could muster, you shoved everything down. You became numb.

For the first time since the beginning of your relationship you go back to your apartment. The three of you normally gravitate to Matt’s place. His apartment just had a feeling of home to it. Even when the three of you were so angry at each other and refused to talk, you found yourself sleeping under the same roof. During those times you hardly shared a bed, but you were always in the same vicinity.

Tonight, however, you couldn’t handle it. You needed to be alone just as much as you needed them to wrap you in their arms and never let go. You didn’t know what you needed and trying to figure it out just brought on another level of anxiety.

Without realizing it, you finish your bottle of Vodka and move onto the Tequila. At some point you begin to wonder if you’re feeling too numb. You become overwhelmed with the need to feeling something... anything. Allowing your emotions to resurface was too scary for you to face. That left one option.

You take a few more swigs of your Whiskey and finish slipping into your nightly outfit. You fumble with buckling your thigh holsters before stumbling to the window. You pull on your mask and slip into the night.

Within seconds you’re soaked in the pouring rain, but you don’t bother to even notice. Your mind is hazy, and your steps are uncertain. You walk along the rooftop and when you almost slip off you just laugh.

Commotion in the ally below catches your attention. There’s a mugging happening. Instinct tells you to go help and you try. You kick into gear and try to gracefully enter the situation.

When you’re sober your as quiet as your lovers. Nobody hears you coming unless you want them too. You move through the shadow’s unseen until the proper moment. Your aim is deadly, and your fighting skills are new level of violent.

You’re not sober. Tonight, you’re three sheets to the wind and anything but graceful and deadly. Instead of scaling down the fire escape you fall. The mugging pauses at the commotion and they all watch your body fall flight after flight until you hit the ground.

Your almost positive you’ve broken something, and it nearly sobers you. You were believed to be dead until you let out a long groan and try to push yourself upward. One of the muggers leaves the poor victim to their partner to see what you’re doing.

“Leave ‘er ‘lone,” You slur, swaying on your feet. The mugger laughs at you.

“What the hell are you gonna do, pal? Vomit on me?” He asks, shaking his head.

“Well, now that you mention it...” You mumble bringing your first to your mouth. He instantly steps back to avoid you if you do vomit. There’s a tense moment before you let out a sigh. “We’re good,” You assure him. “But Imma need you to get your buddy and leave,” you tell him, your finger gesturing to the other guy.

“Oh, we’ll leave,” He nods pointing a knife at you. “After he’s doing getting her money and I’m gone getting yours,” You look at the knife wondering how he has three hands.

“Money?” You mumble as his words click in your mind. “Well, shiiiit...” You laugh patting yourself down. “I’ll help you look... I’m broke as fuck,” You mumble checking yourself out. “Oh, what’s this?” You ask quietly. In a flash you try to pull your gun out, but it gets caught in the holster. “This was cooler in my head,” You say out loud.

“What the fuck?” He whispers, lowering the knife in utter confusion.

“Ah!” You shout, successfully pulling the gun out. You instantly point it at him. “Get your buddy and leave,” You threaten.

“You’re not even aiming at me, bro,” The man in front of you says.

“I’m aiming at someone,” You mutter. “Wanna find out which one of you it is?” You ask before pulling the trigger. The bullet whizzes past the man in front of you and somehow hits his partner.

“Ah! Son of a bitch!” He shouts.

“Ha! Told you I was aiming at someone!” You shout, smirking proudly.

“You’re dead,” The man snarls stepping towards you. He doesn’t get two steps before a thick looking stick flies out of the shadows and into his head.

“Ah shit, you’re fucked now ma dude,” You laugh as Daredevil, and Punisher emerge from the shadows.

“I’ve got them, go make sure that lady is alright,” The Devil mutters to the Punisher. They both walk in separate directions. You watch Frank drag the man Matt knocked out away from you two.

“Anyone ever tell you that you look very sexy in red leather?” You ask flirtatiously.

“You do all the time, sweetheart,” he says, giving you a cautious smile. “Why don’t you put the gun away?” He suggests softly. You hum and look down.

“Oh, yeah,” You whisper holstering the weapon. Once it’s away Matt moves even closer to you. He raises his hand and lights brushes his fingers against your cheek.

“What’re you doing out here, baby?” Matt asks, his other hand slipping around your waist. You let him pull you close using him to keep yourself steady. Matt sighs smelling your salty tears, tears you don’t remember shedding, and the overwhelming scent of alcohol.

“They alright?” Frank asks Matt knowing you were too out of it to answer yourself. Even he could smell the alcohol. Matt takes a moment to listen to you.

“They have severe bruising on their side and back, a couple of fracture ribs but nothing is broken,” Matt tells him.

“Alright, honey, time to go home,” Frank swoops you off of your feet. You whine feeling the bruises Matt was talking about. Frank kisses your head in a silent apology.

You weren’t far from Matt’s place, so the journey didn’t take long. By the time you returned you were shivering in Frank’s arms and completely exhausted. Together, Matt and Frank undress you. Frank helps you into the shower while Matt works on getting some food prepared for you.

“What the hell were you doing out there tonight?” Frank asks. There’s obviously anger in his voice, but he keeps his tone quiet. “You could have gotten yourself killed... or someone else,”

“Killing doesn’t bother you,” You whisper, resting your head on his shoulder. Frank breathes in deeply and holds you close.

“No, but if you had hurt someone innocent or killed someone it would have bothered you in the morning... I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” He whispers, gently petting your head. “I... care about you. You’re important... important to me and Red... Why were you out there like this? Why didn’t you come home?”

“I did go home,” You whisper. Frank shakes his head.

“This is home, honey... Right here, in my arms. That’s home. Home’s with me and Frank,”

“Still?” You mumble.

“Always,” He responds, kissing the top of your head. “I know thing haven’t been easy and maybe they never will be but that’s just who we are. We’re all too strong headed and we all need a challenge. That’s why we work because we push each other... And yeah, it’s been a little rougher these last few weeks but Red and I, we ain’t goin nowhere,” He promises you.

Your hands claw at his back becoming desperate to keep him as close as possible. Frank was hardly ever this open, it was usually Matt pulling the three of you back together. Somehow, with it being Frank, made his words seem more real and true.

One second, you’re desperately holding onto Frank and the next you’re releasing heart wrenching sobs. All the emotions you’ve been feeling come crashing to the surface.

“That’s it, baby,” Frank whispers. “I’ve got you,” He promises.

Soon, Matt is slipping into the shower and pressing himself against your back. He’s gentle, not wanting to aggravate your bruising, but firm enough for you to use him to ground yourself.

One of Frank’s hands is petting your head while the other is rubbing your shoulder. Matt’s hands gently glide up and down your hips and upper thighs. He leans his head above Frank’s arm and lightly kisses your neck. He whispers in one ear, Frank whispering in the other.

By the time the three of you step out of the shower you’re all pruney and your skin is slightly irritated from the heat of the shower. Matt pats your body down with a soft towel while Frank grabs some comfortable clothes for all of you. When he comes back into the bathroom, he has a t-shirt and grey sweatpants on. He hands Matt his own pjs before focusing on you.

He guides your legs into the holes of your underwear and guides them up. He does the same with a pair of his black sweatpants before standing back onto his feet. He pulls the drawstring to help keep the pants on your hips before lifting your arms. He slips Matt’s sweatshirt on your upper body.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get some food in you,” Matt whispers, leading you into the kitchen. Frank sits at one of the chairs first before pulling you onto his lap. The actions brings the first smile of the night to your lips. The sight helps Frank relax and he kisses your cheek.

Matt sets a light snack in front of you. You don’t bother rejecting it knowing he would feed you himself if he had too.

Once you had some food and water in your system your boys took you to the bed. They kept a small nightlight on in the corner knowing it helped to not be consumed by the darkness during nights like these.

You laid between the two of them. You were on your back with your head resting on Frank’s outstretched bicep. Matt was cuddled into your side low enough to where you could thread your fingers through his hair. The action helped soothe both of you.

When you didn’t come home both of them had gotten worried. Were you finally done with them? Were things just too difficult? Yeah, things have been intense the past month, they both could admit to that, but they didn’t mean to drive you so far away. They could see, especially after tonight, that even though being open with each other could be hard it was necessary.

They almost lost you. Something had happened to push you over the edge and the tenseness between all of them was so great you didn’t feel comfortable enough to confide in them. This couldn’t happen again. You terrified them tonight. When Matt heard the gunshot go off a couple of blocks down, they knew it had to be you. When they realized you were not only shooting but drunk as well? Something was terribly wrong.

They got lucky tonight. They were able to reach you before something irreversible happened. Now you were safe. You were in bed with them. You were with them, and you were safe. They felt like they had to keep reminding themselves that you were there with them.

In the morning you would explain to them what happened tonight. You would tell them about your grandma and just how much you loathed your job. You would spill everything to them because they deserved the truth. They needed to know everything about you. You wanted them to know.

For tonight, you just wanted to be with them. You wanted to listen to Frank’s quiet snores and feel Matt’s soft hair. You just wanted to be in the present with two of the most important people to you. Tomorrow you could face the music but tonight you just wanted them.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #Frank Castle x Matt Murdock #Matt Murdock x Female Reader #matt murdock x male reader #frank castle x reader #Frank Castle #Frank Castle x Female Reaer #frank castle x male reader #vigilante!reader #Punisher x Daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil #the punisher x reader #punisher

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rogueonestan · 2 years

Text

a surprise visit

pairing: matt murdock x reader

word count: 1k

summary: after not seeing each other for months, you're surprised to see matt show up in your apartment randomly one night. to your surprise, he asks you the one thing you thought he never would.

notes: this was inspired by this clip and i wanted to write for matt after being in a writer’s block for a long time. this is also loosely taken place during s3, but it’s up to your interpretation. enjoy!

main masterlist | ao3

Most people would be freaked out by the sound of their window being opened late at night.

It was something that always made your heart race when you heard the faint click of your window being closed shut. You always would grab the nearest blunt object you could find, hoping to stop the intruder before it’s too late, but your heart rate begins to go back to normal the moment you see who the intruder is. Just like right now, you grab the closest thing you can find, which really is just a glass of water on your nightstand, but that same familiar dreadful feeling you have rises from the pit of your stomach to your throat can be felt.

There’s complete silence in the apartment when you open your bedroom door. There’s not a single sound that echoes in your entire apartment, only your heavy breathing and the hardwood floor creaking underneath your toes can be heard.

The first thought that crosses your mind is the man you’ve longed to see for several months now. Maybe he’s finally decided to show up after all this time, you think to yourself but immediately disregard the thought. No, he would’ve shown up earlier if that were the case.

Maybe it was someone who finally discovered your secret identity or your relationship with a certain vigilante, and they want to do who knows what with you. That thought comes up in your head late at night more times than you like to admit. Being involved in the vigilante lifestyle is nothing short of being scary and risky, so maybe that thought isn’t as far-fetched as you think.

Then, when you finally come around the corner that separates your bedroom from the living room, ready to throw the cup in your head at whoever entered your apartment at this ungodly hour, instead, a scoff leaves your lips when you finally see who it is.

“Hi, little bug.” Hearing the familiar nickname from the familiar voice you’ve been longing to hear for so long now brings a feeling inside your stomach you can’t quite place.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Unlike in the past where you begin to finally calm down once you see the familiar masked man, but right now, his presence is doing the complete opposite as your heart continues to race.

“I need your help.” Matt tells you when you saunter over to your kitchen table to place your cup down, only a few feet away from the now unmasked man.

A scoff of disbelief leaves your lips. “My help? That’s why you finally decided to show up? Because you need my help?”

“Yes.” He simply tells you.

You’re not sure what overcame you, maybe it’s the pent-up stress and rage that you’ve felt for months now, but your body moves on its own accord. Your hand reaches out for the cup you placed on the table only a minute or two ago and then throws it in Matt’s direction. In the back of your mind, you can barely hear Matt’s pleads for you to stop, but you don’t.

When the glass falls in Matt’s grasp (thanks to his quick reflexes), hands grab whatever is within reach, a book you’ve been reading recently, the silverware you forgot to put away earlier, the random condiments you got with your takeout, the salt and pepper shakers that rest on your tabletop. None of the items you’ve thrown hurt him in any sort of way, mainly just catching him off guard with your sudden outburst, but the anger you’ve held towards him is finally released when he’s standing here in your living room, acting as if nothing has changed between the two of you and everything is normal.

“You don’t- you can’t just show up here out of the blue like nothing happened and ask for my help! You lost that right when you walked out that door months ago!” You yell at him.

“You know why I did!”

“No, I don’t! You never told me!”

“I would’ve if you let me.”

“So, it’s my fault that you left?”

“Don’t twist my words around.”

“Then why did you leave? I’m all ears.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Of course you can’t. You were never able to tell me anything when we were together, so why start now?” You can’t help but let the bitterness in your voice to return, matching the nauseous feeling you have in your throat.

“I told you I was DareDevil.”

“Because you had no other choice. That doesn’t exactly count.”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“That’s why you left?” You ask as Matt simply drops his head to the ground. “I already put myself in danger every night when I go out. How much more danger could I possibly be in?”

“The people I've been going up against, they’re a danger, even to you.”

“How dangerous are they?” You ask.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“So, let me get this straight, you want my help but you can’t tell me who these people are?”

“If I do, then I’m-“

“‘Only putting you in danger.’” You both say simultaneously.

“I know, you’ve told me that a million times before, Matt.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important.”

Of course not, why else would you be here? You think to yourself, not wanting to argue any further with Matt. He never asks you for anything, in fact, it’s a rare occasion such as this when he would. It shows that he still trusts you, maybe the only person he would trust with something as important as this, so you don’t vocalize this.

Seeing him here, standing in your living room just like old times, like you’re living a memory in the past. It brings back all the memories you have together, all the good and the bad, all the screaming matches and the impromptu dates you’ve had in your living room, all of it. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the very thing you’ve been longing for since the morning after he left.

“So, what did you need help with?”

#this is my 4th attempt of uploading this so im hoping it will actually pop up in the tags this time #my writing #daredevil #daredevil x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fic #matt murdock x vigilante!reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x vigilante!reader #daredevil x you #daredevil fic #daredevil imagine

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hart269 · 2 years

Text

Charlie Cox Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Matt Murdock

Series -

Velnias

Oneshots -

His Saving Grace (Earth-65)

A dreary night

A savoury moment

Ready for Work

Partners in Vigilantism / Partners in Life

An Enchanting Voice

As I Perish

Casualties

Irked

You are Evil

Headcanons -

Matt Murdock x teen!vigilante reader (platonic)

Tristan Thorn

A Timorous Task

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whoreofdilfs · 2 years

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re-watching daredevil is not enough, i need Daredevil to fuck me

#daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matthew murdock #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x vigilante!reader #matt murdock smut

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demigoddessqueens · 2 years

Text

My husband has returned from the war

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skyfallslayer · 5 months

Text

The Darkness In Me || Story 3: Kingpin & Daredevil

-Kingpin!Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Reader-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🖤 Series Summary: You were shocked to find out your childhood friend turned out to be the Kingpin of the underworld, but you had to put those thoughts aside to bring him down. You were Hell’s Kitchen vigilante, its protector. There's no valid reason not to stop him. However, when your hidden feelings for him start to surface once more, how will you be able to even think about bringing him down?

🖤 Story Summary: Your night trying to save a kid takes a dangerous turn. Now fighting to stay alive after a possible life threatening injury, you soon find yourself face-to-face with the man that runs this city’s underworld: The Kingpin. Aka… your childhood friend.

🖤 Date: 12/06/23

🖤 Rating: Mature

🖤 Word Count: 12, 842 (Damn o-0)

🖤 Warning: Blood; Gore; Talks of Child Abuse; Child Death(s); Child Manipulation; Mental Break; Murdering and Allusion to Murder; Non Consensual Touching(?) Looks like it but its not); Seductive Talk; Implied Seductive Manipulation; Slight Karedevil; Implied Frank/Karen: Past Killing of a Love One; Talks of Betrayal; Death of a Love One; Dark!Matt; Yeah, Matt gets a fucking warning in this one (I mean, he ain't the Kingpin for nothing); Russian & Japanese Via Google Translate (not super accurate, I apologize). READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

-Let me know if I missed anything-

🖤 A/N: Oh boy, this was tough but fun to write! Hopefully nothing is too overwhelming for y'all. Alrighty then… we're finally getting to Matt's POV of things, which I honestly think I enjoyed writing more than reader's (*le gasp*). But yeah, here's a bit of the flirty and charming Matt Murdock we all know and love with a dash of darkness. Enjoy!

There’s no fucking way this was real. Was the first thing you thought. Maybe it was the next one. Or the next one, or– Oh, geez. You really didn’t know what to think.

Here you are thinking the whole time that he’s the same as you; That despite your rough childhoods, you both managed to put the nightmares aside and build the life you guys wanted. You both had your hopes and dreams, you both got the jobs you desired, you both made a friend that had your back. But now…

You don’t know when or where or how this even happened. You don’t know why he’s on this route. You don’t know why you just watched him kill a man for screwing up his ‘responsibility’. You don’t even know what to think of this situation, what to think of…

Him.

Matthew Murdock, Your childhood friend; The person you were starting to feel more for. The person that was none other than–

The King of Darkness himself.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| Four Days Ago ||

The doors slammed simultaneously, the both of you sighing as you laid back in the chair as your partner, Frank, rests his forehead against the steering wheel before lightly tapping it a few times. Your mornings had started off with a call of distress from an elderly man claiming that he had been robbed. Turns out, the poor man just had dementia. So after a talk with his son who stepped out to run an errand, they ended up back her with slight annoyance.

Frank sighs again, finally bringing his head up. “I know he has health problems, but still… you think your stuff’s gone and you call 911?”

“Yeah…” You rub your eyes, dark circles dusting them. “This is going to be a long day.”

“Of course it will be.” He starts the car, sitting up straighter. “Breakfast?”

“Please.” Like you could turn that down after not eating anything for a few hours straight.

He pulls away from the curb, driving in the direction of a local diner that he’s mentioned a few times. “So, Y/N… how are you adjusting to the move?” He said at his attempt at small talk (he didn’t speak much if he didn’t need to, you noticed, so I guess you could say this was a good sign).

“Me? I’m actually doing pretty good. I know how Hell’s Kitchen ticks so–” You shrugged. “Except for when some of the places I’ve been to have disappeared, I didn’t really need to adjust to anything.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been to Hell’s Kitchen before?”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Oh, shit. I guess I didn’t tell you. I was born here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I lived here till I was eight.”

“Damn. So it’s been awhile.”

“Yep.”

“What made you move away in the first place?” Frank asked, making you pale. But he didn’t seem to notice since his eyes were on the road. “Y/N?”

“Uh, well…” You frown thinking about that day. You sigh, trying not to play with your hands like you were a kid. “My parents passed. Car accident, uh– Truck ran a red light and hit up straight on.”

“Oh, my god.” He begins, and you hold your hand up.

“Before you apologize for asking, don’t. You didn’t know.”

“Yeah, but still.” He frowns worriedly. “You were… eight? That’s rough.”

“It was, but I had to accept it pretty quickly when I moved to California with my Aunt and Uncle.” You explain, feeling your heart clench at one of the names.

“Quickly?”

“My Aunt wasn’t the nicest woman.”

Frank scoffed, but not at you, but at everything else. “I got to hand it to you, Y/N, you turned out pretty well. To me, your story sounds like the makings of a villain’s origin.”

You chuckled. “So I’m not the only one to have that thought.” You reply, half joking as the car pulled into an open spot.

“I mean it though.” Frank says, turning the engine off. “You’re strong. Stronger than you think. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost my family like that.” He opens his door. “Alright. Enough depressing shit. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

You snort. “What? Did you not eat before your shift last night?”

“You think I know how to cook?” He smirks. “I leave the cooking to someone else.”

“I could see that.” You teased, following him inside.

“Well it’ll be dinner when our shifts are over. We should get burgers.”

“I wish I could. Unfortunately I got dinner plans with friends.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Oh, Y/N!” Foggy shouts as soon as he spots you, standing up and waving you over. “So glad you could make it.”

“Well thanks for the invite.” You said, with a smile, hoping the makeup you put on hid how tired you were (Seriously, why did you talk yourself into being a vigilante and a cop at the same time?).

“Y/N, this is Marci.” He said, gesturing to his lovely wife, who shakes your hand.

“Hello, Marci. It’s finally nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Marci said as you guys took a seat. “I swear, he talks about you more than Matthew does.”

“Hey, she gives me all the juicy details my dear friend leaves out. That’s all.” Foggy defends, making her roll her eyes playfully.

You chuckle. “So, speaking of the devil. Where is he?”

He frowns, almost feeling like it was somehow his fault. “Unfortunately, poor Matty can’t make it tonight.”

“No?” You copy his expression. “How come?”

“Says he’s got something important to do.” He sighs dramatically. “I swear he’s got some weird night time hobby. He’s always disappearing.”

“Sounds like something he would do.” You smirk as the joke rolls off your tongue. “You think he’s a secret mob boss or something?”

“Honestly, I was thinking more like Batman, but wouldn’t be surprised with that either.” Foggy said with a shrug, before picking up his menu. “Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“Never heard that one before.” Marci said, hiding her laugh.

“Hey.”

This was nice. You finally made some acquaintances that you could now call your friends. Although this dinner would be a bit bittersweet without Matt, you couldn’t complain, you were just glad you were here, living the moment.

However…

Deep down…

You still wonder what he’s doing.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Punch. Punch.

“Is something going on with you? You know you can always talk to me.” Foggy said, clasping his friendly hand onto his shoulder with a warm smile.

Punch. Punch.

“I thought you were supposed to help me.” Wilson Fisk said as he stared in disbelief from across the table; his hands were aching to strangle his lawyer as they stayed handcuffed to the metal flat top.

“But I am helping you.” Matt replies, his calm complexion suddenly morphed into something wicked that even made the ex-mob boss shiver in his seat. “The Defense is just doing a better job than me.”

Punch. Crack. Punch.

“You’ve done a wonderful job, Matthew.” The older woman, who happened to be the leader of assaination group that took him in, Alexandra Reid, smile so proudly at him as she grasps his shoulders. “You… are the most perfect soldier I’ve seen in a long time.” She chuckles. “Go spread chaos, my love.”

Punch. Crack. Pain. Whine. Punch.

“You fight well, kid.” His old and blind mentor said, making his heart skip with pride until… “But not well enough. You disappointment.”

Punch. Pain. Pain. Whine. Pain. Punch.

“Is Mama really gone?” Matt croaked as held his father’s hand, laying in bed as his head started to go numb from the medicine. But he didn’t need sight to know what expression his dad was making.

“Yeah, Matty. She is.”

Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Crack. Punch. Punch.

“You really are leaving?” He asked, watching his best friend’s face morph into hurt and sadness.

“Yeah. I am.” You could feel yourself starting to cry. “But I don’t want to.”

He grabs your hand, holding it tight. “Then don’t. I don’t want to lose you. Don’t go.”

“Matty, I don’t have a choice. I have to go.”

Matt lets out a low growl as keeps pounding his fists over and over into his ‘sparring’ partner. In the boxing ring he had the man backed into one of the corners, flat on his bottom as blood sprayed everywhere; small bone fragments starting to stick out of his bruised flesh too, But he didn’t care. This was just someone he could easily replace, so he picked up the speed, turning the dial full. Striking over, and over, and over, and over again. And again. And again. And again. And–

“If you don’t stop you’ll cripple him. Or worse.” The blond Karen Page, his advisor, said as she entered the room, making him pause for a second.

“Should I care?” Matt snipped, voice sounding like acid that could melt anything it touches.

Karen’s jaw clenched, but she kept her composure. “You should care, seeing that our number of men is declining. Fast.”

Matt groans and punches the man again, surely KO-ing him this time. “I turn my head away for one second, and my men just disappear in a blink of an fucking eye. They’re all ending up on police departments’ doors so fast, It’s not even safe enough to let them go without some suspicion. Fuck!” He kicks him in the shin, getting a crack. “It’s all because of that fucking asshole in a mask! Do you have any idea where he came from?”

“No, sir. I asked around. Nobody knows. And the reports I… ‘borrowed’ shows that there’s no reports of a mutant, or superpowered individual other than Ghost-Spider in the last ten years or so.”

Matt pauses, thinking. “You think they come from out of state?”

“It’s a possibility.” Karen quickly notices his silence. “Someone comes to mind, sir?”

“No. I was over stepping.” He sighs, holding out his hand as he’s thrown a towel. “Did the delivery arrive smoothly like I asked?”

“It’s on its way. Should be there soon.”

“Good.” He throws the towel around his neck. “I need a shower, and send someone to bandage him.”

“Shall I tell the driver the penthouse or regular?”

Matt pauses again for another second. “Regular. I need to go to work tomorrow.”

“Very well then. I’ll call him now.” Karen bows his head. “Goodnight, Sir.”

“Likewise.” He says, while exiting the ring and into the locker room, still burning with rage that keeps on growing.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Stretching out in your new pajamas, you casually let yourself float around your apartment, excitement (or I guess pride) ran through your veins as you read the next article about your alter ego ‘Daredevil’. The local news lately has been flooded with nothing but articles about you. The next one made you grin, some twenty year old blogger was geeking out how fast you were in some reports and sightings.

You chuckle, lips curling in a smirk. “Damn right, I’m fast.” You didn’t have enhanced speed for nothing. Besides that, you were also cursed gifted with levitation, superhuman reflexes and stamina, and lastly, psionics; Something that you can manipulate in many different ways. It wasn’t as glorious as when your mother would do it, but you were trying.

I wonder how Uncle Pietro would have felt if he knew I had his speed. You frown, shaking your head when a gruesome memory crosses your mind.

Gosh. Why am I living so much in the past all of sudden? Why is everything flooding in quickly? You’ve been pretty good about not reliving your past over the years, but now… you can’t seem to get away from it.

I wonder why? You perk up when a knock comes from your door. You rotated slowly and gently landed on your bare feet, trekking across the room.

“Coming!” You call out, fixing your top before opening the door. You were met with a familiar sight, just like when you had moved in you saw the white vase at your feet filled with the same color and number of Roses. Looking around with caution again, you saw no one before picking it up, plucking the note off one of the stems. This time it just had a single word which was–

‘Sorry.’

You furrow your brows. “What the fuck?” Did whoever sent them know that you were down to your last rose? Did this person know that getting these was intriguing to you? Did they know that this was secretly creeping you out as well?

You scoffed out loud.

Hell…

Why the fuck were you hanging onto the roses if they were driving you crazy anyway?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt does his best the next day to hide the cuts on his hands, and bruises lingering on his body. Although he’s grown used to the smell of blood staining his flesh, he knows everyone else around him is not (And being a blind man certainly didn’t help his cause). He got dressed like usual, skipping the red suit for his normal, freshly pressed, black one. He slips on his shades, grabbing his cane and briefcase by the door before stepping outside; One of his men standing there just like always. Dressed in what looked like a ‘caretaker’ outfit, he puts on the bubbly personality he was instructed to do.

“Morning, Mr. Murdock.”

“Morning, Anthony.”

“Taxi’s here like you requested.”

“Perfect.” Matt starts walking with his men a quarter step behind. Now since they’re out in public, it’s time to start speaking in code. “Still having dinner with the family later?”

“That’s the plan, but you know Brently and his boys are. They’re probably out adventuring around here, waiting to give me a scare.” His response made Matt mentally smile.

His bodyguards were in their posts like they should be. “Well, we wouldn’t want that for you.” He plays along, feeling for the door handle before pushing it open to the outside world.

“Oh, and don’t forget, you have a doctor’s appointment tonight. A follow up.”

A meeting. He almost forgot about the meeting he set up weeks prior. “Ah, almost slipped my mind.” Matt admits, opening the taxi door to get in but—

The smell is what threw him off. This scent was completely different than what he was used to.

“Where ya heading to, sir?” The driver spoke, which was another unfamiliar thing.

He frowns, hiding his worriedness. “Mr. Richards?”

“Mr. Richards’ sick. I’m taking his place today.”

And that makes Matt grow quiet, letting his other senses kick in. Other than the scent, he could hear the steady heartbeat slowly start to spike, the knuckles tightening their hold on the steering wheel, and the smell of ink lingering on the man’s neck. Now he’s realized what’s going on.

Sliding back outside, sensing his bodyguard looking at him with concern. “It’s a shame, Mr. Richards is sick.” Matt said, acting like he was scratching his neck but in reality was a signal. His bodyguard trails his eyes subtly inside, confirming what Matt thought the tattoo was.

A logo for a rebel gang in the area. A real pain in his side, always gutting for him. I guess he should have seen this coming sooner.

“It is. I hope he feels better.” His bodyguard said, still with a smile. “Will you be taking a stroll instead?”

“I will.” Matt pushes away from the vehicle, heading in the direction he needed to go. “Just make sure you take out the trash for me.”

“Of course. I’ll see you later Mr. Murdock.”

Matt listened as his bodyguard shut the back door before getting in the passenger, and took out his side arm, politely telling him to drive. He wishes he could go back and laugh in his ‘kidnapper’s’ face. He’s been in this business long enough to know who he trusts and who he can gut. Even though it can be tiring…

The monster inside him sometimes enjoys the thrill of it all.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

He sighs when the knob doesn’t turn, and starts fishing around for his keys; His pocket was like a void sometimes. He brushes off your scent and footsteps as being part of his tired mind, so it still surprised him when you suddenly appeared next to him.

“Wow, look who’s late.” You say, with a cheeky look.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked, pausing his actions (guess he should stop brushing the thought of you off).

“Thought I stopped by on my patrol of the neighbourhood. I brought bagels.” You hold the piping hot food up. “And if you’re wondering why the door’s still locked, Foggy had… lots to drink last night.”

He raises an eyebrow. “How hungover is he?”

“Well, not sure on that, but he did call me three times in the middle of the night to talk about the Yankees and how Darth Vader would be great at the sport.”

He chuckles. “Oh. So he’s that drunk.” He finally unlocks and opens the door. “I’ll make coffee.”

You smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

He started the machine and you walked around again, being nosy as usual. The office still had its characteristics about it, enough to know what side was Matt’s and what side was Foggy.

God, I’ve spent too much time around them. You spotted a stack of papers nearby, printed on it is what looks like an ad and you let your curiosity get the best of you on this one.

“You going to start standing on street corners and pass these out?” You asked, before realizing you didn’t phrase it right. “Sorry. The fliers, I mean?”

He smiles. “I thought that’s what you meant. No, Foggy thought it’d be a good idea to get the word out more.”

“Is business not good or something?” You asked, worriedly. For being in a building like this you thought they had to be doing good.

“Don’t worry, we are. But we want to branch out more. Marci’s job allows her to travel around New York City, so we’re going to have her put some up whenever she gets the chance.”

“Well that’s good.” You look back at it, admiring the work until something catches your eye. You noticed that each of the men had signed their names on the bottom right above the printed version of it, a nice warm idea to show how ‘cozy’ this place was. But that’s not what was stopping you; There was something… oddly familiar about Matt’s penmanship.

Where have I–

“Coffee’s ready.” Matt announces, coming out from the kitchenette with two cups.

You smile, subconsciously folding the paper and tucking it away. “Thanks.” You take a sip, the cheap coffee actually tasting pretty good this time around. Then, you noticed something else about him, something more troubling as you jump into action. “You’re bleeding.”

That catches him off guard. “What?”

“You’re bleeding.” You set your cup down before he could speak and roll up his sleeve. You noticed the deep gash on his forearm, not too big, just deep. You furrow your brows concernedly. “How’d you get this cut?”

Matt keeps his cool, the lie he tells rolls off his tongue with ease. “Curse of a blind man. Can’t see where I’m going.”

“Let me fix you up. Where’s the first aid kit?”

“Y/N, you don’t have to.”

“I want to. Where is it?”

“Y/N–”

“Don’t be a brat, Matty.” You slap him in the shoulder, holding back a laugh. “Where is it?”

Now he seems like he was trying to do the same thing. “Really? You’re bringing that name back?” He asked as you hum and nod. “Well… peaches, it’s under the sink.”

“Pfft.” You slap him again as you pass and mumble, “Can’t believe that name is still haunting me.” You grab the kit and examine his arm again, taking a better look. “Looks deep. I could stitch it up?”

“Nah, don’t bother. It’ll heal.” Matt says, trying to calm the nerves he could hear in your voice.

“But it’s deep. I really should.”

“Y/N, it’ll heal. Trust me. Just bandage it.”

You comply against your better judgment, and start cleaning it up first. “You got some superpower I don’t know about?” You asked, ironically.

“Hmm, maybe, I don’t know.” He grins. “Wouldn’t little peaches like to know that.”

“Oh, my god. Stop.” You blush a bit. “You’re never going to let that go.”

“What? Like I said the last time, I think it’s adorable.”

“No, it’s not.” You shake your head, all embarrassed as you start applying the bandages. “What would you think if I started calling you ‘Bratty-Matty’ again?”

He chuckles, making your heart flutter. “You already did a few times.”

“In public.”

“Oh, well—”

“See? You’ll hate it.”

“No, not necessarily.”

You pause. “Huh?”

“Well, you know, in today’s environment it’s kind of–” His free hand tugs on your badge around your neck, getting closer. “Kinky.”

“Kinky?” You said, with a flush face and slightly intrigued (completely unaware that he could hear your heart racing with excitement). “I didn’t think little… Catholic Matthew Murdock would be into those things.”

His pulse skipped a beat, feeling your hand gently brush the injured one. “Well, we were just children so… we wouldn’t talk about adult stuff now, would we?”

“Oh, certainly not.” You feel his chest press against yours as he closes the gap. “You… like to talk about that stuff?”

“Only with the people I really admire.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” His hand creeps up to the back of your neck, gently bracing you.

You couldn’t help but moan a little from it, drawing a seductive smile from him. “Matty…”

“I kind of want to share that with you.” He whispers, trying to lock his lips to yours and–

Your walkie suddenly crackles, an order coming through.

You blush. “Sorry.” You reply, trying to unclip from your belt as he steps away to give you space.

“It’s okay.” He says, listening to you ask the operator to repeat and you to take it.

You sigh. “Geez, I’m sorry, Matt. I’ve got to go.”

“No, no. It’s okay. You’re still on duty.”

“Okay. Thanks.” You start to leave, until you feel him get close to you again (and looking flustered once more).

Matt rubs the back of his neck like a nervous tick. “Hey, uh… would you like to… catch up some more? Just the two of us? Like… over dinner?”

Now it was your turn to be caught off guard. “Dinner?” You asked, making sure you heard that correctly. “Like uh… like a date?”

“I was thinking more of a play-date, maybe?” He replies with a half shrug.

“A play-date, huh?” You raise your eyebrow, grinning. “And where would this play-date partake?”

“Oh, I was thinking maybe that Sicilian place in that hotel off 5th?”

“That’s quite the restaurant. You sure?”

“My treat.”

“Alrighty then, hot shot. I’ll see you seven. I’ll wear something nice.”

“You could wear pajamas and I wouldn’t care.” He listens to you laugh a wave goodbye, standing in the doorframe of his office until he hears you no more. His expression fades away into something more serious now. “Brently.”

The office across the way, which was ‘up for lease’, opened up to one of his bodyguards who was awaiting a task. “You called, Boss?”

“Call Karen and tell her to move the meeting I have tonight to tomorrow.”

Brently’s face stays the same, but his tone shifts to concern. “Sir, would that be wise? I mean, they’ve been waiting weeks to have a word from you. You sure they won’t lash out?”

“They should know enough to not even try that. If not, handle it. Understood?”

“Understood.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Did Castle disappear again?” You asked an officer as you entered the office, noticing that he was not lounging around where his desk was.

“Probably. I haven’t seen him all morning.”

“Figures.”

Seriously, where does he run off too? You should probably ask him, I mean he trusts you enough to tell you, right? You head into the women’s locker room, heading to the row in the back. You quickly examine to see if your lock has been tampered with before putting your bag inside. It’s kind of sad you had to watch you back here, a place you should feel the safest but you don’t. You lock it back up as you hear the door being opened, sounding like two officers coming inside, chatting.

“-surprised she’s not dead yet.”

“I know, right? I’m still amazed.”

You roll your eyes at the gossip and how they sounded like they were teenagers in high school. “Oh, boy…” You whisper, and start to leave, but–

“I wonder what Lieutenant Y/N did to the Boss for him to spare her so far.”

You froze, breath caught in your throat.

Wait, what?

“I mean, how long has she been here with us? A month? Two?”

“That sounds about right.”

“I mean, she’s survived a lot longer than we expected. Remember Captain Trevor? He refused to follow the program and guess what? A day and a half later he was dead. Bullet embedded in his skull and they ruled it a suicide, but we all know what it is.”

“Yeah.” A sigh, and the next words were like a knife to your heart. “I feel bad for Castle. A hardened soldier like him still felt guilty about doing it. You could see it in his eyes.”

“Yeah. Poor Trevor too. He was young. Castle probably saw his own son in him.”

“Man, this sucks. How has the Lieutenant been living this long?”

“That’s what I’m saying. There’s got to be something to it.”

“I believe it.”

You continue to listen as they talk about something else before grabbing something out of their lockers and leaving. The whole time you had your hand cupped over your mouth, your face went pale. Frank had told you briefly about his ‘program’ kill but…

You didn’t think it would hit so deep. Now all you could think about now was–

Why were you still alive?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You wore a cap sleeve red dress for your date, accompanied with black heels and a purse. You kept your makeup kind of light, and decided to style your hair long today with an exception of a clip for looks. Just as you finished putting some perfume on, you were surprised when you found Matt already at your door.

“Matty?” You said, taken back.

“The one and only.” Was his response, hold out his arm for you to take. “Ready to go?”

You knock yourself out of your trance (that of shock and how good he looked tonight) and lock the door. “Yeah, of course.” You take his arm and you both guide each other around down the apartment stairs.

“You smell good, by the way.”

You blush. “Thanks.” Then you mentally slap yourself. “I just realize you can’t see what I’m wearing.”

“I can feel.” He fingers brush the fabric. “Silk?”

“I got it years ago when my precinct was doing this charity-gala event, and haven’t worn it since. It’s red by the way.”

“Ah. I always liked that color on you. Cherry?”

“Apple.” You answered as you get to the last step when the thought from earlier comes back. “Hey, how did you know where I lived?”

“You told me one time.” Matt replies, masking his panic pretty well (God, how did he forget that?).

“I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” Maybe it was all those third shifts you’ve been doing lately. “You must have a better memory than I do, ‘cause I don’t.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The restaurant was… way more fancy than you thought it was going to be. I know Matt said he’d treat you but Jesus H. Christ this place was way above your pay grade. The materials they used and decorations you could see knew they were attached to triple digits, and when a menu doesn’t bother showing you the price for something, you knew you were out of your league.

Now I feel kind of guilty mooching off of him. You thought, knowing he was a lawyer but still. Could he really afford this?

“Here’s some glasses for the wine.” Your server said, gently placing them on the table. You quickly now noticed the the brace on his forearm and out curiosity, you asked,

“Your hand okay?”

“Oh, this? Yeah I’m fine. Lucky actually. I was getting mugged the other day.” He says, and you suddenly realize why he looked so familiar.

“That’s awful. Sorry to hear that.” Matt replies, as the waiter shrugs.

“Like I said, I was lucky. Thank god that vigilante was nearby. Saved my ass. Just wished I could have thanked him.” You couldn’t help but smile a little while Matt mumbled something incoherent as he continued tracing his fingers over the braille menu.

What’s up with him? You wondered, before tuning back into what your waiter was saying.

“-So, have we decided what we’re eating tonight?” He asked, and the two of you placed your orders before handing the menus back. “I’ll have that out for you shortly.”

“Still not sold on Daredevil?” You asked, pouring a glass of wine for the both of you.

He thanks you before answering, “Like I said, I just want the right guy to pay.”

“And you think he’s not doing a good job?”

“Well the media thinks he is. I’m not so sure myself sometimes. But I’ll admit, I admire how persistent he is.”

You pause before tilting your head, confused. “Persistent? What do you mean by that?” You took note how he looked like a deer in a headlight just as your waiter came out with the appetizers. By then the subject was changed, something less ‘intense’ and more lighthearted. And by the time your main courses came the two of you were laughing and enjoying yourself, feeling like you two were kids again.

“Oh, man. I can’t believe you guys actually did that.” You said, mixing around your carbonara with your fork. “How did you and Foggy not get expelled?”

“Good…” He chuckles. “Good question. We really should have, to be honest.”

You hum, staring at him for a minute before feeling a twinge of guilt. You wanted to ask him something that’s been bugging you for a while, and you were not sure if it was the appropriate time or not. You set your utensil down, nervously. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“It’s… kind of a debbie-downer.”

“You know I’ll answer it, Y/N.” He says, reassuring. “Shoot.”

Backing out crosses your mind, but you managed to encourage yourself to finally ask, “Why did you stop writing letters to me?” And then you saw his expression again, one that you didn’t know how to place. Why was he so surprised you were asking him certain things tonight?

You watch him set his own fork down, eternally debating with himself as he takes a deep breath.

“Listen… Y/N, I–”

The sound of something shattering caught both of your attentions, followed by hush voices before it got really loud.

“I know he’s in here! I recognized his cars outside! His people!” A man shouted, his thick accent lingering. A worker shouted at him to get back as he entered the dining hall, catching everyone’s eye now.

“What’s going on?” You said, missing the way the brunette clenches his fists (‘Cause unlike you, he knew exactly who this was).

“I know you’re in here! Тащи сюда свою задницу, ублюдок!” (*Get your ass over here, Bastard!)

“What the hell is babbling about?” You asked, recognizing it was Russian, but didn’t understand it. You watched him get pulled away by a few people, still shouting and kicking like a child throwing a fit. “What do you think that was all about?”

Matt’s hands twitched and ached in his lap, unbeknownst to you. “Um… I don’t–” But then his phone rings, this time you could see the bit of annoyance on his features as he pulls it out.

[‘Brently. Brently. Brently.’]

The automatic voice chimed over and over until he picked it up.

“Sorry. Let me take this.” He says, before you have any say. “Hello?” You watch him talk, the annoyance on his face seemed to progress that was starting to rub off on you. “Alright, then.” He hangs up with a sigh.

“Who’s Brently?” You asked, slightly irritated (and you would be more if he knew he was going to lie next).

“Uh, client. Um, he’s in some legal trouble, I, uh… gotta go bail him out.” Matt replies, scooting his chair back.

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I gotta take responsibility for this.”

“To bail your client out?” He shakes his head, causing you more confusion. “Doesn’t he have a family? Why did you call you to bail him out?”

“Well, I’m… his lawyer, and he calls me so it falls on me.”

Now that just sounded like a load of bull to you. You frown. “So? Make him wait, or call Foggy then. We’re–”

“Foggy’s out with Marci. Don’t want to bother him.” Matt says, cutting you off.

“And we’re not… out? Together? Like him and his wife?”

“Y/N, I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, but this is important.”

Now that got your blood boiling. “And this is not?” You asked, standing up yourself and walking away with him calling out your name like a broken record.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt was really surprised that you let him even open the taxi door for you, but he knew you weren’t looking his way with your arms cross and head down with rage (he honestly couldn’t fucking blame you for acting like this). He then walked around and told the driver your address, and told him to drive safe which he complied.

“You Mr. Richards son?” He asked in a low tone that you couldn’t hear.

“Yes, I am.”

“Is he doing better?”

“A little banged up, but he’s alright. Should be back in a few days, Sir.”

“Good.” Then he made a face that makes anyone’s skin crawl. “You make sure nothing happens to her, or I’ll gut inside out and mail it to your dad as a ‘get well’ gift. Understood?”

The driver pales and nods before driving away. Matt then gets in a black tinted SUV, fuming in his seat as his bodyguard rolls the privacy screen down to talk.

“Page has Mr. Anatoly, Boss.”

“Where are they heading?” He asked, hands aching again as he bounces his leg to confine his anger inside.

“Usual spot. Shall I drive you over there?”

“Yes.” A grin. “Please.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Here’s a twenty.” You said, as the taxi pulled up to your apartment. “Just keep the change.”

“Uh, no need, uh… Your date paid for it.” The driver explained, waving it off.

You roll your eyes. “Of course he did.” You mumbled, getting out of the vehicle quickly as he bid you goodnight. Well…

That had to be one of the worst dates you’ve ever been on (and you’ve been on a lot). You threw your purse on the kitchen counter, kicking off your heels somewhere in the dark hall before sliding down to a sitting position against the wall. You get that he had an important client, but did he really have to take priority over him rather than spending a nice evening with you? Or better question… Why did he look like you caught off guard so many times tonight?

What are you hiding, Matt? And that was a question that was burning like candle light.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Karen was sitting in the back of another SUV listening to how Anatoly, the Russian mob member, went on and on about something (to be frank, she was only half listening).

“You were right to reach out to us, although, since we’re being truthful, a call would have been more appropriate.” Karen explains, feeling slightly sorry about what was going to happen to this man.

“Look, I… I wanted to speak with him in person. Try to put the past behind us.” The Russian said, getting a hum which was right on cue for the vehicle to stop. “Why are we stopping?”

“They say the past is etched in stone, but it isn’t. It’s… smoke trapped in a closed room, swirling, changing. Buffeted by the passing of years and wishful thinking.” Karen starts poetically saying. “But even though our perception of it changes, one thing remains constant. The past can… never be completely erased. It lingers. Like the scent of burning wood. And it’s my job as his advisor to make sure everything just… lingers.”

Anatoly gives her a strange look, which Karen ignored to answer a call.

“Sir?” She said, listening closely. “Yes, passenger side.”

“Was that him?” The Russian asked, hopeful.

“Yes. He’d like to have a word with you.”

Anatoly nods and mumbles something in his native tongue seconds before the door flies wide open. To his shock, an angry Matt Murdock reaches inside and yanks him out, throwing him viciously on the ground.

“You embarrassed me.” Matt snarls, even with his shades on you knew there was bloodlust in those blind pupils. “You fucking embarassed me infront of her!” And throws a punch.

They both exchange some hits, equally spilling some blood, however, at one point, Anatoly pulls out a knife, swinging it defensively. What thought could do some damage, he ends up seeing the Kingpin’s suit was barely touched by the blade.

Surprising him again, Matt had him pinned against the vehicle, breaking his wrist the weapon was in. “Мне бы хотелось, чтобы ты просто позвонил. Я бы дал тебе пропуск. Но нет…” He hisses, cradling the sides of the Russian’s head (*I wish you had just fucking called. I would have given you a pass. But no…). “Ты только что выкопал себе чертову могилу.” (*You just had dug your own fucking grave.)

He then starts banging his head on the side of the car a few times before tossing him back at the ground. Anatoly desperately tries to crawl to the car, begging Karen to help in Russian, but Matt’s advisor made no movements that she would at all. Instead, Matt drags Anatoly by his hair, laying him between the floor and the door…

Then slams it hard.

And over.

And over again.

As blood bathed the concrete with its glorious red color, Matt never stopped until his enemy’s head was completely taken off.

Inhaling heavily, body still tense as Karen walks over carefully, offering her Boss her handkerchief.

“Tell Mr. Potter, I’ll need a new suit.” Matt said after a moment, and wiped his face clean.

Karen nods with a hum. “What about this?” She asked, gesturing to the body behind them.

“Keep it. Freeze it. Let his brother worry for a few days, and will pull the cards if we have to.”

“Which cards, if I may ask?”

“Send it to Vladimir to show who really runs this city, or…”

“We blame it on Daredevil.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Alright, listen up. Last night, a father was driving home with his son until they were surrounded by unidentified men.” Your police chief said as you all were gathered around the office. You knew by how tense he was this was going to be some tough news to swallow. “Those men beat the poor dad and kidnapped the kid. Griffin Banks. Eight years old, he has curly brown hair and brown eyes; about 5 feet tall, 86 pounds, and was last seen wearing his little league uniform. Your jobs are to find him quickly and bring him home safe. Understood? – Great. Off you all go!”

And then all of you scattered like ants, hopefully to get some kind of lead, some kind of evidence of where he was but…

“This shit’s going nowhere.” Frank complained, after a few hours of tiredly searching. You couldn’t blame him for complaining about this, because you too were feeling the same way.

If only I had heard about this last night when I was on the street. I could have been looking already. You went out as Daredevil last night to clear your head after that disastrous date and didn’t come across any crime or hear anything to spark your interest. You thought that was a good thing, you thought maybe the criminals finally understood that you weren’t leaving, but now you realize that the reason was entirely different.

Did everyone in the underworld know about this kid? Was this an act of war or treason? You still weren’t a hundred percent sure how everything ran, but you did know that not everyone in the shadows worked or agreed with the Kingpin, so maybe this was a way to get back at him.

But why an innocent kid of all things?

“Let’s try around the park again.” You said, heading back for the car.

“Again? Y/N we just came from there.” Frank said, as you shake your head.

“Maybe we missed something. I want to check.”

“Y/N. Hey, wait. Y/N–” He grabs you by the shoulder to stop you from entering his car. “Wait. Look, I know you want to catch this guy, I get it, but we can’t keep going back to the same place over and over again, it’s not doing us any good.”

“Yeah, but what if we’re missing something?” You asked, forming a look of desperation in your eyes that means so much more. So much more that he actually understands it.

His face softens. “Y/N, I know that look, you’ve been through this before haven’t you?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, breaking eye contact. “I just want him to be alright. I couldn’t save the last one.” You explain, voice quivering at the end.

“Hey, I get it. We all have a similar case every once and while, and it gets to us. I understand how you feel. However, if you keep running in circles, and getting inside your head, you’re not going to be able to do much. You’re going to make the same mistakes.”

“I know, but–”

“Go take a break. Go clear your head, then come back to the precinct.”

“Frank–”

“There are a hundred or so other officers looking for this kid. You can take a rest.”

“Frank–”

“Please.”

And how could you say ‘no’ when Frank reminded you of your old partner Max here? He was making the same thoughtful, worried expression that made you want to break and asked for a hug.

You wanted to say ‘no’, to show them both that you could handle it, to show that you’ve grown but… You can’t.

You haven’t grown one bit since then.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Fancy seeing you here.”

You take your face out of your hands, looking up from your spot in the waiting area. You decided on getting a quick bite before you head back. “Foggy?”

“Thought I get some grub myself.” He said, sitting down next to you, waiting as well. “Rough morning?”

I guess he could tell how messed up you felt. “You could say that.”

“Is it because of that missing kid?”

“Yeah.” You said, as you laid your head against the wall. “Guess word got around quickly.”

“You guys will find him.” He gives you a reassuring look. “I have faith.”

You scoffed. “You have more faith than I do.”

He looks proud of himself while replying, “Hey, It’s what I do best.”

“What about you?” You cast him a glance. “Did you and Matt sort out that client issue?”

Foggy tilts his head, eyebrows scrunched together. “Issue? What issue?”

“The client issue.” You realize he didn’t know what you were talking about and continue trying to specify. “Matt and I went out last night but he cut it short; Told me he had to leave because of work. An issue with a client.”

“Issue with a client? I don’t recall a current issue with anybody.” Foggy says, honestly, as he scratches his head to think. “Are you sure that’s what he told you?”

“I’m dead serious.” You sit up straighter. “You seriously have no idea what I’m talking about?”

“No, I’m sorry, Y/N. I would know if we had an issue, I mean, we’re partners; Fifty-Fifty, you know? But if he comes into the office later I’ll ask him about it.”

You let his words sink as he excused himself to grab his food. You were… baffled. Completely fucking baffled. Did Matt really lie to you last night? And for what? He didn’t want to be there with you anymore? Did he think you were being nosy? Did he not like you in the way you thought he did? Whatever the reason was, it didn’t matter…

You were going to be pissed off anyway.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Take the bag off.” Matt snarls as he enters the freezer. His bodyguard complied, showing their enemy off for him to ‘see’. “If you’re smart you’ll make this quick. Where’s the kid you took?”

The Russian grinned, his teeth stained red with lips full of blisters. “Like hell I’ll tell you. Not until you agree to meet with Vladimir like you promised!”

“Where’s the kid?” He tried again, patience thinning out already.

“Fuck. Off. 3асранец.” (*Asshole)

Matt hums. “So not smart? Not a shocker.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who backed out at the last minute. I don’t know what was so important last night that you just had to miss it.”

“Well, all of us have lives, you know.”

He laughs. “A leech like you? Have a life? I find that hard to believe.” Another chuckle. “We know you so well that Vladimir had us on standby to take a kid.” And another. “We know you have a little soft spot for them.”

But Matt stays calm, eerily calm that could make anyone’s skin crawl. “Just Vladimir? So did his brother not have any say in that?”

“What?”

“You know, Anatoly paid me a visit last night. He actually interrupted my important event. If your bosses had such a… grand plan, how come one of them came looking for me?”

He scoffed under his breath, mumbling, “Цифры. Анатолий всегда был нетерпеливым.” (*Figures. Anatoly was always the impatient one.)

This makes Matt grinned. “Ah, so you guys have no idea? Do you?”

“Know what?”

“Что я тоже нетерпелив.” Matt says while snapping his fingers (*That I am also impatient). The meat hooks were shifted around until it was a headless body that appeared, but that didn’t shake the Russian too much until someone pulled out the body’s severed head from a box of ice.

The man paled. “O Боже…” (*Oh God…)

“Понимаете?” Matt asked, the same expression staying (*You see?). “Мне плевать, какой у тебя статус. Ты меня злишь, я убью тебя.” (*I don’t care what status you are. You make me angry, I’ll kill you)

“You really are a monster.” He says, trying to keep it together.

“Yeah, I know. And with no regrets too. Now…” Matt’s face falls. “Where’s the kid?”

“Like I’d ever tell you after what you just did! 3асранец!” He snaps before spatting in his face. (*Asshole!)

Matt stays quiet, and calmly wipes the red spite from his face. “Otomo.” He calls out to the deepest part of the freezer, a person dressed in an all black ninja outfit. “Kare o korose.” (*Kill him). The assassin nods, unsheathing his blade which was enough to get the Russian to wiggle in his restraints and start begging.

“W-Wait! Wait! Wait! What about– No. No–”

“Dispose the body anyway you can.” Matt orders as he turns to leave the cold, until…

“Ты хочешь остановить Сорвиголову, верно?!” (*You want to stop Daredevil right?!)

As soon as those words were spoken, the Kingpin stopped in his tracks. It was only until he turned back around, the Russian started laughing with hysteria and joy.

“I know you do. We all do.” He pants and swallows. “Этот парень... он поможет любому. И я гарантирую, что он захочет спасти ребенка. Пусть все это ускользнет…” (*This guy... he’ll help anyone. And I guarantee he’ll want to save the child. Let this all slide…) He chuckles with a painful smile. “Я-я упущу это, и вместе мы сможем поймать Сорвиголову. Разве это не было бы красиво?” (*I-I let this slide, and together, we could trap Daredevil. Wouldn’t that be beautiful?)

The man prayed that this would work, and his spirits seemed to be lifted when the King of Darkness smiled.

“No one else saw you take him?” Matt asked one of the guards who shook his head. “Huh. You know…” He shifted the weight on his cane. “I like that idea. It is beautiful. Slightly risky, but beautiful.” Then he flickered his blind gaze back to his assassin. “Kare o korose.” (*Kill him)

Then he spun on his heels again and left, the door shutting behind the screams that his sensitive ears could still hear. He maneuvered around the place, listening to his adivisor’s heels click around behind him at the pace he told her to as he finds a sink to clean his soured face.

“So you’re going forward with his suggestion?” Karen asked, hands behind her back, waiting.

“It’s a little far-fetched, but if Daredevil catches wind of the kid, we actually can kill two birds with one stone.” He said, running the very idea over and over in his head. “Any updates?”

“Your phone’s been blowing up. The personal one.”

“Calls?”

“Texts mostly.”

“Who’s it from?” He asked her, as she pulled it out of her pocket and reread it over.

“Foggy.” She replies, watching him stop drying his face.

“Is it important?”

“Might be.”

“Might be?”

“He wants to know what client issue you had last night, and says you should contact Y/N.” She frowns. “Apparently she’s pissed at you for leaving last night.” He mutters something under his breath that she didn’t hear before she decided to take a step forward. “Forgive me if I’m stepping over a line, and I know she’s a long time friend, but she’s also a cop; A cop that hasn’t been linked with your program yet, and has been begging for you to tell her yourself, which I know you won’t.”

“Your point is, Karen? Matt asked, throwing the towel aside.

“What if this works out like you hope, and you reveal to her that you’re the Kingpin, then what? You expect her to be okay with it? Expect her to accept it without a little blackmail on the line?”

A brief pause. “No.”

“Exactly. She’ll try to take your ass to court, better yet she’ll try to shoot you dead. I just don’t want a repeat of last time.”

And the haunting memory flashed before him. He didn’t think it could still hurt so much. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll figure that out later. But what about you? How’s your task going?”

“Still growing strong like you asked.” Karen said as he cups her jaw with a smile. “He trusts me a lot.”

“Good. Good. I’m glad to hear that.” He says, while slowly tracing her red lips with his thumb. “Even if, and that’s a big if, Castle ever thinks that he’s out of my control, he’s not, not if you’re on him like a thorn in his side. Right?”

“Right.”

He hums, and lightly ghosts her arm with his fingertips drawing a small sound from her. “Bet you’re imagining me as him. Hmm?” He pulls her head down closer, his lips right next to her ear. “Keep seducing Castle for me, okay? I don’t care if you catch any feelings either, as long as you know he’ll still be between my fingertips, then I’ll let that slide. Understood?”

She makes a sound again, eyes half lid. “Understood.”

“Good.” Then he gently bites the side of her lower lip, kitty licking the bruise before pulling away. “Tell the driver to bring the car around while I make a call.”

With a shaky breath she says, “Yes, sir.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The voicemail still buzzed in the back of your head as you came bursting through your window, barely having the mental strength to lock as you started shedding your DD suit as you walked towards your bathroom.

*Beep*

[ ‘Hey, Y/N. Look, I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but please just… Can you just call me back and just listen to what I have to say? Please? I just… I know I messed up. I’m sorry. Please call me back when you get the chance.’ ]

*Beep*

You kicked off the last pair of clothing as you crawled into the shower turning the hot water on, letting it run on your hunched over back with your forehead against the tiles.

These few days have sucked. First your date leaves you high and dry, then you find out he lied, and now you can’t even find a missing kid whether your Daredevil or Detective L/N. It…

It really hurts.

This task… hits… close to home.

You hold back the tears you felt, and hold back the urge to sob as you let your fingers trace the scar on the base of your neck, remembering how it got there.

It was stupid mistake.

You should have waited for your partner instead of running off on your own.

You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot. You should have waited. You should have waited. You–

You honestly thought the universe would grant you this. To grant you a chance to catch the man you’ve been hunting for weeks; To catch the man that’s been stealing those kids and doing heinous things with them. You needed to catch him, you begged to catch him but…

No.

No you can’t.

As soon as you spotted him you ran like hell after him, ignoring as your partner Max yelled your name. You had blinders on, you’ll admit, but you don’t want that man to take another kid, to steal yet another kid’s future. No.

Not on your fucking watch. However–

He catches you by surprise, and suddenly your whole world is on its side as you free fall, hitting something sharp and painful on the way down. Now you’re laying on the ground, your spine feeling funny as you feel the pool of blood grow around your head, your ears ringing like they’re dying out.

Damn it. You thought. You really thought you had this one in the bag as you started to fade to black just as your partner’s voice broke out into a scream. A scream that you know was–

“Fuck!” You yelled, and swiped off all the bottles off the shelf and let it rattled to the tub floor (you know you probably just woke up your downstairs neighbour but you couldn’t care less). You sigh heavily, holding the sides of your head.

Tonight was going to be a long night for you.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Frank’s fingers glided over his phone for the millionth time this morning. You haven’t arrived at all this morning which was so not like you (Especially since you were so desperate to solve this case). He waited a few minutes before texting again:

[ Forget what precinct you work at or something? Where are you? ]

He just wants something from you, even if you respond with an emoji that he’ll have to decipher.

Come on, Y/N. At least tell me you’re staying home. One of his fears right now was you doing something drastic. After his conversation with you yesterday he decided to look up what was scaring you, and that was the case you took just a few years out of the academy, the same year you became a detective. A criminal that had been taunting you and your partner for months, and when you finally had him, the night ended with you getting a near death injury… and another kid getting killed.

Poor girl. I just wish you didn’t have to get demoted here. You’re too good for this place. His thoughts were interrupted when his phone finally dinged with a message from you.

[ Detective Stubborn: Ate something bad last night. Stomach’s killing me. ]

He sighs with relief, whether that was true or not, he’s just glad to know you’re away from here.

[ Feel better. ]

He just really, really hopes you stay home and clear your mind.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

But of course… why would you?

After planning all day and looking over very little evidence you had you decided to go out as soon as the sun started to set. You had to rough up a couple of street thugs to get some more solid evidence, but eventually it was enough for you to figure out where they took the boy.

The warehouse district.

You floated through one of the skyline landing without a sound, and the rest of your mission honestly became a bit of a blur. Why? Well… as you rushed around through each warehouse undetected until you actually found the kid, your enemies, when they finally noticed you, didn’t seem very fond of you poking your nose in their business. Now you’re running like hell, a kid in your arms as you tried shielding him from every bullet that came your way. You tried levitating a few times when you found yourself up high and trying to cross a beam or a walkway, but you’ve never actually flown with someone in your arms so you’re out of practice.

Come on, Y/N. Remember bootcamp, Remember your first rescue mission, you know how to carry someone to safety. Which was true, but all those other times weren’t with you being pelted with bullets from an angry mob.

You felt the kid grip your outfit tighter making you say, “It’s okay. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” You just kept repeating that comfortingly as you made three small crates float and fly to knock the men out of your path. You kicked one of the guys in the head when he tried to get up, sprinting again. If you can just get to the edge of the building, you’ll be home free.

Trekking across a catwalk, you used your abilities to conjure up a quick shield to block before surging the power outwards, knocking the gunmen off his feet and over the railing, plummeting into the overly packed room of wooden crates from overseas (you’re not sure if you really wanted to know what the Russian mafia was importing). You fought a few more guys that dared to intervene, dared you to stop and surrender and be killed.

You could see the finish line, you could feel the boy relaxing your arms as he sees it too; You were finally going to complete the mission that’s been haunting you for so–

You heard something rattle and roll behind you.

You just had enough time to look at what it was before putting a shield up, the tiny thing exploding your whole world.

When you came back around, an excruciating pain ran through your body, a pain that was so unbearable that you didn’t want to move. The explosive you managed to shield took out the catwalk you were on and everything close by. You fell all the way down with debris dusting your face, still holding onto the kid before blacking out. Now… you laid on the floor, your head shaking as you urged yourself to look down, finding what was causing the pain.

A metal bar was sticking out from your abdomen.

You somehow didn’t scream, maybe because you felt like you were going into shock, or maybe you were shouting and haven’t noticed yet.

Oh, god, I’ve– wait… the boy… Trying not to black out when you turn your head to look, and about a foot away was the boy who had bounced off your body during the fall. Your heart would have caught in your throat if he didn’t see his chest moving, but it was.

He’s alive. You sighed with relief, but here comes the tricky part. How are you going to move and save him with this pole in your stomach? You groaned loudly as you tried to move, arm reaching out in the attempt to at least shake him awake, trying to tell him to run if you’re truly stuck.

“Uh, Gr-Griffin… g-get up. W-Wake… up. Please…” You croaked, yet it doesn’t seem like the sleeping boy can hear you… but someone else could.

But as you shifted again, pain shooting out as the metal shifted with you, that’s when you noticed someone coming over in the corner of your eye. One of the Russians had come over, checking if you were still alive which was plain as day now. You watch his eyes go between you and the child for a few seconds before grinning like a maniac.

Your eyes widened when you saw the gun in his hands. “No.” You whimpered with your fingertips glowing red, right as he shot a bullet into the kid’s head. “No!!!” You couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed. Would this have happened if it didn’t–

Then he pointed the weapon at you, out instinct or adrenaline your abilities shifted the gun towards him, firing his own bullet into his own skull.

His body dropped like it was made of bricks, the gun sliding inches away from him, causing you to nearly throw up in your mouth. I mean, you were a cop after all, so of course you’ve had to shoot a person or two but this was…

Messing with your fucking head.

You could hear shouting in the distance, which was enough for you to kick it high gear again and try to move. First things first was trying to get this damn bar out of your stomach.

How the fuck– wait– let’s see– You concertrated the best you could as you redirected all the energy you had into yanking it out (doing it quickly probably was the best idea but you didn’t have much time). The bar rattled next to you, a pool of red oozing out as you rolled to your side feeling the blood rise to your throat. You quickly moved to all four, pulling your mask down to cough up the rest of the red. Sweating and heaving, you felt like you had no energy left to move, but you needed to. You could hear them coming.

As you got up to your feet, your knees nearly buckled but yourself forward where you noticed some stairs going up. Ripping and pushing your hood against your wound as you started to climb, hoping you weren’t leaving too much of a blood trail.

Just as you got to the top you heard the voice grow near, and you managed to slide yourself into a place that no one could see from below. You just needed to stay hidden long enough for them to leave to make your escape (whenever that was). However, you never thought after searching for a few months that you would actually get to see the man they call ‘Kingpin’.

You peaked out watching two very different groups of people arrive. The Russians looked slightly surprised when the Underworld’s Ruler showed up, dressed in the red suit that you’ve heard about on the street. He walked like he owned the place, his black cane with gold trim was like the piece that tied his whole look together. He stopped with his back towards you, with many of his men standing around as, what you tell was, the Russian mob’s leader came face-to-face with Kingpin.

“3асранец. Now you show your face.” The leader, Vladimir snaps (*Asshole).

“Well, seeing how this is my turf now, I have to show my face.” Kingpin said, making you perk up with confusion.

Why does his voice sound–? But your thought trails off as you watch Vladimir scoffing in disbelief.

“Your turf? You think we just… ‘mess up’ and you take over?”

“Well, I certainly don’t need to see that–” Matt points to the mess the explosion made. “You pretty much destroyed most of your cargo.”

Vladimir frowns, shifting his weight. “I’ll admit, I wish my men didn’t blow up half the warehouse. But I will give him a pass because he was trying to stop our rat.”

He raises an eyebrow. “A rat?”

“Yeah, a rat.” Vladimir smiles a little. “I had a feeling Daredevil would come for the kid. Why wouldn’t you if it makes you feel good?”

Matt clenches the top of his cane, keeping his composure from the neck up. “Daredevil was here?”

“Still here, I think.” The Russian points to the bloody puddle on the floor. “There’s a pipe laying next to a large amount of blood. In my experience, getting impaled you don’t get very far.”

His frown deepens, grip tightening. “And the kid? I smell two bodies with no heartbeats.” Then his whole aura changed into something darker, suffocating. “Tell me, are those your men?”

Vladimir paled, and tried to keep the discomfort off his face. He didn’t want to answer, even he knew staying silent wouldn’t be a good idea. “One of them.”

“One of them?”

“Why do you care? It could have been Daredevil! She could have pulled the trigger!”

Matt didn’t say anything as he cast his blind gaze at the corpses before saying, “No. His scent is the only one on the gun and its bullets. So the kid’s death is in your hands.” But then he pauses, realizing something. “Wait. She?”

“Yes. My men said they saw Daredevil upclose, says the stature’s too small and not burly enough to be a man.” Vladimir replies, making Matt hum in response. “I guess something good did come out of this after all. We finally have more evidence of what we’re up against.”

And those words were his signature for his own death.

The room got really cold, and energy felt suffocating. Everyone present began praying that they’ll be spared.

Matt grits his teeth, shaded eyes growing hungrier. “First you embarrassed me, now you insult me? I’m not even sure what to say anymore.” He says, snapping his fingers as his bodyguards shoved Vladimir to his knees, the end of a barrel being pressed in his face. The other Russians tried to make an advance, but they were outnumbered, making them slowly raise their hands over their heads.

“Давай, мужик.” Vladimir said, as Matt made a tsking news (*Come on, Man).

“Don’t ‘come on, man’ me. You brought this upon yourself. I mean–” Matt chuckled dryly, lowly, scary. “All you and your brother had to do was just wait the next day for our meeting. But no, you had to go out and throw a tantrum, you had to go out and kidnap a kid that has no meaning to any of us.”

Vladimir scoffs. “No meaning? It always has some meaning to you. Don’t act like you haven’t kidnapped someone’s kid before.”

“And I’m not. I know what I’ve done. But unlike you, when I kidnap someone there’s meaning to it, a purpose. Like when I… ‘picked up’ our DA’s lovely daughter after soccer practice, and said we were good friends. And like any child, she believed it.” Matt smiled just a little before it faded in an instant. “However… she never ended up like that.” He gestures to the body on the floor. “You get what I mean?”

The Russian growls. “3асранец.” (*Asshole)

“You can keep calling me an asshole all you want, but you know I’m right.” Matt sighs. “I just wish your brother was like you.”

Vladimir’s breath caught in his throat. “What did you do?”

“Nothing that your brother didn’t deserve. He did interrupt a very important date I really care about. I’m honestly surprised he found the restaurant I was in.”

Brother? Interrupted? Restaurant? You thought, wondering why this sounds so familiar.

“What. Did. You. Do?!” Vladimir shouted, baring his teeth as the King of Darkness lips curled into a mischievous grin.

“Like I said, nothing he didn’t deserve.” Matt snaps his fingers again, this time summoning someone over who was holding up a duffle bag. He reaches inside and pulls the brother’s head out by his hair (You had to hold back from gasping loudly at the sight).

Vladimir nearly broke down on the spot. “Anatoly…”

“I really wished he had just called, I wouldn’t have resorted to such manners.” Another sigh. “I even had to lie to my date that I had to go bail him out.”

And that’s when your whole world collapsed.

No. You thought, shaking your head as everything started to click in place.

No. No. This has to be fake. I have to be sleeping. This can’t– But you can’t deny what was plain as day. You didn’t have to see his face to know it was him. I mean, he had a cane you thought was just for fashion, he had shades on that you thought was just part of his look, but you can’t deny that his voice is the same, you can’t deny that the missing pieces had formed a whole.

But then his name rolled off your lips as you stared with disbelief.

“Matt…” You whispered, and as soon as you did, his head snapped your way.

Tensing up and pushing yourself further into the shadows, you slapped your hand over your mouth as your heart pounded in your ears.

There’s no way he heard me… right? However, that couldn’t be a coincidence. There’s no way you just mutter his name and then look your way. It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be true. But does that mean–

Can Matt… hear anything? Does he have abilities like me? You didn’t know what to think as he went back to his conversation with the Russian mob leader.

His perplexed expression changed back to the grin as he continued to taunt the man before him. “Now do you understand why people don’t cross me?”

“You’re a monster.” Vladimir replies, voice filled with venom. “You’re a fucking monster.”

“I know.”

“You won’t get away with this. When people hear about what you’ve done, there’s no way the others are going to let this go.” The Russian clenched his fists. “My people, even if I’m gone, they’re not going to put up with this. Same with the Doctors, S.I.L.K., the Chinese, the Japanese–”

“The Japanese?” Matt said with a laugh. “Oh, they work for me.” And he almost laughed again when he saw his prey’s face pale again in shock. “Yeah. You see, they raised me. The Hand taught me everything I know, and helped me rise to this position.”

What does he mean he was raised by the Japanese? You managed to think after slowly coming over your shock. You knew his mother died in the accident that blinded him, and he mentioned his dad pasted as well, and–

Wait…

Matt never told me when his father died. Does that mean he was young enough to be taken in by someone? Someone like… You couldn’t even finish the sentence. You’ve heard bits and pieces about The Hand on the street. You knew they were hardcore, highly skilled and basically an assassination group; People you didn’t want to mess with.

So does that make Matt… an assassin?

“You really have power in everything.” Vladimir said, head hanging low.

“Pretty much.” Matt said, proudly.

“Then I guess… I’ve got nothing else to do than follow you.”

“Follow me?” The blind man scoffed. “Oh, Vladimir, you lost your chance at that. You’ve already proven to me that you have no loyalty, that you only think about yourself.”

“Mr. Murdock–”

Matt cut him off by holding his hand up, and staying quiet for just a moment. “I really wanted to like you Vladimir, that hard head of yours I could have used for so many things but…” He sighs and stays silent again.

And then you watch him plunge his sword into the side of Vladimir’s head.

Your pupils shrunk and you felt all the air get sucked out of you. You–

Matt slowly pulls his weapon out, letting his bodyguards drop the body to the floor. He just stares again, almost like he was basking in what he just did.

Oh, my god… he just… Then you watched him sheath the blade back into his cane and says,

“Kill the rest.”

And that’s when you knew you had to move. Using all the strength you had left to bolt away as Matt’s men started firing at whoever was left of the Russian mob.

You’re not sure how you’re even going to get home, but fuck…

There’s no way in hell you’re going to stick around here.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You practically crawled to the bathroom when you got back to the apartment, black spots started dancing as you ripped open the first aid kit. You shake off your top, turning the shower on for a few seconds to remove the excess blood.

“Matty… would you still be friends with me if I was a freak?” You asked him as the two of you sat on the fire escape of his apartment. The question has been gnawing at you for quite some time, and you weren’t sure how to express it so.

“A freak?” Matt said, confused. “Why would you ask me that?”

The pole didn’t go all the way through, which was good, but damn… that was going to leave a nasty scar when it did heal. You had to bite on a rolled up magazine as you started sewing up the wound, the pain keeping you awake.

“Well…” You nervously shifted your weight, looking in his direction. “What if I told you… that my parents are special?”

“Special? In what way?

You placed the gauze over the wound, then bandaging it up. You then cursed as you pushed yourself to a stand, running your blood soaked hands under the water, watching it swirl down the drain.

“Like… what if they had abilities? Like superheroes?”

“Like superheroes?” Matt perked up a little. “Do they?”

“It’s just a question.” You shrug and look away. “Would you be okay if I was a freak too?”

Your eyes shifted from the bathroom to your kitchen, remembering something. You flicked off the faucet, wobbly walking towards the very thing that’s been peaking your curiosity for the longest time.

The vase of roses.

With a shaky hand you grabbed the note, opening up to reread the one sentence on the paper.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Matt said, with a smile. “I’d think it’d be cool.”

You blink in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. You would be like an actual superhero. Like the ones you see in the comic books. I’ll admit though, I’d be kind of jealous if you did.”

“How come?”

Now you were back in your room, rummaging around for the outfit you wore to work the other day. You know you still have it, you have to. You needed the chance to compare the two.

“Because–” Now it was his turn to shift in his seat. “My best friend has powers and I don’t. Everyone would be in awe with you but with me? Nothing.”

You frown at his words. “Don’t say that. I think it would be nice to have someone different than me.” Then smiles. “Keeps me from not going completely crazy.”

He chuckles. “Well it would be my job to keep you from going nuts. I wouldn’t want you to be the villain of the story.”

You smirk a little at that, scooting closer. “Is that a promise?”

Your (Y/E/C) eyes widened with disbelief for the millionth time tonight. In one hand you had the note from the vase, the other? It was the ad from Nelson and Murdock, the ones they were going to pass out, spread the word.

The one that had their penmanship on the very bottom.

A perfect–

Perfect–

Match.

You held out your pinky. “Promise me. Promise me that as long as we’re together, we won’t become villains in this world. Will always be each other’s light.”

He stays quiet for a second, like he’s thinking. Then he raises an eyebrow, saying, “Superpowered or not?”

“Superpowered or not.”

“Okay. Deal.” He interlocks his pinky with yours. “I promise I won’t do anything crazy while you’re here.”

“Thank you, Matty. I’ll hold you to it.”

You snagged everything that was off the counter, marching over to the window, ripping it open. Without even looking you just tossed it out, letting it drop and shattered on the dumpster lid below.

You just couldn’t believe it as you sank to your knees.

You just couldn’t believe it.

You just…

Couldn’t believe your whole life was in a lie.

(TBC)

-Taglist Is Open-

@utterlynuts @etanordoesbullsh1t @mattmurdocksstarlight @l3xiluve @lunaticgurly @margoo0 @swift-enchanted @athenniene

@up-in-space-reading @itwasthereaminuteago @lazyxsquirrel @yeonalie @scoliobean @kayden666

@nkmblackhyuuga @nk1023 @queenofnigthdarkness

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years

Text

no control - matt murdock x vigilante!reader

summary: matt’s been thinking too hard, and needs you to…help.

warnings: mentions of canon-typical injuries, sub!matt, religious mentions(?), oral (f receiving), p-in-v sex, reader bends matt to her will a little and here we are

a/n: no thots head empty matt murdock on his knees (putting this under the kitten and the devil cuz technically it is but this is mostly just smut, not a lot/zero plot 😋)

| series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 |

Matt feels like his brain is on fire.

He can’t stop thinking, can’t stop worrying, can’t stop running through ten million different what ifs and scenarios in his mind. The state of his city, the state of his world, the state of his life. It’s overwhelming, making his throat go dry and his knuckles tense around whatever he can get his hands on; his cane, a cup of coffee, your hips. He can’t sleep, he can’t eat. He paces the apartment while you doze in his bed, worn out from your own patrols and general bad-assery. You’d come in early, clutching your arm, the coppery taste and smell of blood lighting Matt’s senses.

It was a shallow cut, nothing major, and you’d whined more about the hole in your suit more than the gash in your arm. He’d stitched you up anyway, kissing your forehead when he was done and tucking you into his bed.

Then he’d paced the apartment, chewing at his nails, the scent of you back home easing him slightly but doing little to stop the madness of his mind, the anxiety in his gut. Eventually, he fell asleep in the living room chair, neck twisted at an awkward angle. You’d been too tired to notice he hadn’t come to bed, but when he woke, there was a blanket draped over him, and the familiar imprint of your lips on his cheek.

He can hear you humming a familiar tune — Sinatra, he’s pretty sure, Fly Me to the Moon — and it rouses him as he puts the blanket aside, gets to his feet on aching joints. Then he pads into the kitchen to find you standing at the stove, your back to him, spatula in hand. The savoury scent of hash browns fills the air, your favourite spice mix invading his nose, and there’s fresh coffee in the pot.

You’re wearing one of his button ups, none of the buttons in their rightful places, the sides hanging open and just barely covering your chest. It makes his cock jump in his sweats just hearing the rustle of the fabric against your skin. As soon as he’s close enough, he puts his arms around your waist, reaching up to pull the shirt collar away from your neck so he can bury his face there, stubble scraping your skin and making you hum, the song forgotten and replaced with the pleased noise.

“Forgive me, kitten,” he whispers against your pulse, “for I have sinned.”

He closes his teeth around your neck then, sucking a bruise into your skin, eyes rolling back at the taste of you and the way he hears your heartbeat stutter in time with his ministrations. He lets both hands go wide, one resting against your stomach, the other moving lower, sliding down your thigh and then squeezing the flesh, feeling your muscle jump.

He hears the curve of your grin, playful and sweet. “You realize we’re not in a church, Matthew,” you say quietly, reaching up and turning the stove off. You turn slowly in his arms, and he lets his hands slide across your body as you move, his palm coming to rest at the small of your back, fingers settling in the notches of your spine. His other hand reaches up, tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, nails scraping lightly down your jaw. “Most of the things we’ve done within these walls are anything but holy.”

Matt grins, pushing at your back, closing the small distance between your bodies. You make a mewling sound when his hips press into yours, the clothed outline of his cock against your stomach. “True,” he admits, and slides his hand into your hair, gathering it in his fist and tilting your head to the side with his newfound grip. “Even so, I need…help.”

“Help?” you repeat, your breath hitching when he lowers his face into your neck once more, mouth working at the bruise he’d already left, making it bloom further. “Tell me what you need, Matthew.”

Matthew. How is it that something as simple as his full name can render him so vulnerable to you? He’s still trying to figure that out. “I need,” he says against your pulse, “to stop thinking. I need to stop trying to be in control. I need you to do it for me. Just for a while. Please, kitten.”

You slide your arms around his shoulders, hands roving his bare back, tracing his scars and kneading his flesh. It makes him moan against you, gathering you closer to him, finally feeling that knot of worry start to unravel within him. “I can do that,” you whisper, and he lifts his head, mouth not leaving your skin, travelling up the curve of your chin until he reaches your mouth, kissing you roughly, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip. “Just for a while.”

He melts into you, drinking down the taste of you like a man dying of thirst on a deserted island. Your hands start to move, tracing his outline, finding more scars to trace, more muscle to outline, more flesh to press. You move backwards, guiding him away from the still-hot stove, towards the small wall between the kitchen windows. He hears your back impact, shoulders shifting against the brick.

You plant both hands on his shoulders then, your nails digging into his muscle just enough to make his lips part. You push gently at first, just enough for him to take the hint, and then the push grows firmer. He’s slow to sink down, using his hands on your hips as leverage.

“On your knees, Matthew,” you whisper, your voice husky with lust and like honey to his ears. “Kneel.”

It’s exactly what he needed. You catch his chin in your hand, thumb rubbing across his stubble, up and over his bottom lip. When you push the tip of your thumb into his mouth, he moans, closing his mouth around the digit and sucking, revelling at the taste of your skin. Then you push on his shoulders again, and he goes.

He worships you all the way down, pushing away the fabric of his shirt on you body, dragging his tongue down the middle of your chest, over your sternum. Your nails dig in deeper when his knees finally hit the hardwood, his face level with your underwear, and he ghosts his mouth across the fabric, sighing into you when your scent intensified, thighs quivering as you adjusted your stance.

“Take them off,” you whisper, “like a good boy.”

He can’t stop himself from groaning, pushing his face closer to your core, cock throbbing between his legs when he feels the fabric grow wetter, the taste of you tainted by the barrier between but delicious all the same. But you stop him, one hand moving to the crown of his head, knuckles locking in his hair, yanking his head back. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to remind him what he asked for. He grips your hips tighter, instantly drunk off the feeling, eyes rolling back as your nails drag along his scalp.

“I said, take…them…off.”

He obeys, the worry unravelling completely, unspooling through his body and leaving only tingling nerves behind. It’s a miracle he doesn’t shred the fabric, and though all he wants to do is dive in when you’re bared to him, he stops, tilting his head back, waiting. Asking.

You reward him with a smile, your grip on his hair loosening. “You know what I like.”

God, does he ever. Permission granted, he slides between your parted legs, hooking one shoulder under your thigh until your knee bends over him, heel dragging down his spine. Your scent overwhelms him now, his brain going empty of all thought as he puts his mouth to the inside of your thigh, lapping at your skin, swallowing down the wetness already gathering. You’re always so wet for him, so pretty, so perfect.

“No teasing,” you chide, your hand tightening again slightly. He nods dumbly against your skin, lifts his jaw, and drags his tongue up your slit. His tastebuds implode with the combination of your scent and taste, and he moves up slightly so he can suck at your clit, rejoicing in the moaned echoes of his name falling from your lips and the way your heartbeat picks up when he gives you just a little bit of teeth.

Your body folds in half when you cum, choked moans of his name reaching his ears and both your hands wrapping around his head, holding him buried in his favourite place on earth. He takes whatever you give, licking you through it, hands wandering around to squeeze your ass.

He can hear the heave of your chest when you start to push him away, nudging his head and pulling your leg from his shoulder. He goes, almost unwillingly, daring one final swipe of his tongue from your still-dripping entrance to your clit. It earns him a harder nudge to the centre of his chest, but Matt doesn’t care, leaning back on his knees, tilting his head towards you, licking the taste of you from his lips and chin.

“On your back,” you demand, pushing at his shoulder, and he goes, twisting his knees under him until he’s flat on his ass. You lower yourself, his shirt landing in a puddle of fabric on the counter as you go, and he feels your knees either side of his ribs, wet hot heat hovered above him, messing with the temperature of the air in the most perfect way, leaving him itching to touch himself, to give himself some sort of relief.

You do it for him, reaching back for the waistband of his sweats, pushing them down his hips until his cock springs free, smacking against your ass. It makes his whole body jolt, every nerve doubly sensitive. You adjust, dragging your drenched core along his length, and he keens up into the touch, hands reaching for your body, your hips, your ass, anything he can grab onto.

But you beat him to the bunch, fingers curling around his wrists, and you force them back, over his head, pinning him down, leaving him at your mercy. His head is empty, save for the scent of you, the feel of you, the taste of you. “I’m in control, Matthew,” you purr, your mouth close to his ear, and he arches up into the sound, jaw going tight. “It’s my turn.”

You have good aim to start with, and he’s grateful for it now, with the way you nudge your knees slightly wider, curve your back, and slide right onto his achingly hard cock. It’s an easy slide, your wetness guiding him into your heat, still tight and delicious and making his eyes roll back so hard it’s a miracle they don’t fall right out of his head.

You feel like heaven, just like this, your hips flush with his, cock buried deep inside you, your strength keeping him pinned in place. He’s wanton with his moans, praying to God that you’ll kiss his mouth, his neck, his chest, anything; he just needs to feel your mouth on him somewhere.

You feel like heaven, but then you start to move.

It’s an uninterrupted pace. You find your rhythm and run with it, hips lifting and falling onto his so hard he actually sees stars, white dots shooting across his flame-tinged vision. Every slam and he’s that much closer, every deep grind and he’s straining in your grip, but it’s exactly what he needs.

No control, no control, you’re in control. He doesn’t need to be, not right now.

“Matthew,” you call, pulling him back to himself, his name high-pitched in your throat. “Baby, I’m gonna cum.” You release his hands, straightening your back, and there’s only one thought in his head: you’re gonna cum, and he’s gonna help you get there.

One hand reaches for your chest, grasping your breast, pinching your nipple between his knuckles, while the other moves down your body, falling into the curve of your hip while his thumb lands on your clit. A few tight circles, a hard press, and you’re gone again, body going taut and your core so tight around him it makes him cum, surprising you both.

He gathers you into his chest in an instant, fucking up into you with what little stamina he has left. He cums so hard he forgets where he is, for a moment, teeth sinking into the meat of your shoulder while you sink a hand in his hair and tug.

You both collapse onto the floor a moment later, chests heaving, hands still half-clinging to each other. You blow out a breath, head lolling towards him. Your eyes flutter shut, and you tilt your head, pressing your mouth to his shoulder in a soft kiss.

“Let’s just stay here,” you whisper, “just for a while.”

—————

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iguana-eyanna · 1 year

Text

The Villain You'd Thought I'd Be

Pairing: Matt Murdock x villain reader

Summary: You thought you'd have enough time with Matt when you two escaped, but happiness comes with consequences

Warning: violence, weapon use, death

a/n: This took so long to write! this will be the last part of this series, so I hope you enjoy!

Matt breathes in and out his nose, lying on a bed. The sun that warmed his face lets him know it's about breakfast time. He hears a soft grunt next to him, moving their hand closer to his naked chest.

He kisses your forehead, making you snuggle closer to him.

"Morning." He whispers.

"What time is it?" You ask, groaning in his chest.

He chuckles a bit, feeling his chest vibrate.

"I think it's almost ten?" He guesses.

You turn around and see your clock on your night stand to make sure.

"9:50 a.m., You must be a wizard." You joked, making Matt hold you closer as he laughed more. You were then both at eye level with each other, taking in each other's presence.

"I'll make us breakfast" he whispers, kissing your temple. You groan a bit, but you feel hungry. Sitting up, you see him get out of the bed as you see his toned body while wearing sweats. You smirk, throwing yourself in his pillow. You suddenly hear a ping from your phone and reach out to see a text on your home screen.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, seeing it was from Wesley.

Fisk is getting impatient.

You straighten yp, trying to think of a response.

Ever since your disappearance last week, you told Wesley that you wanted more time and you'll return with Daredevil yourself. You and Matt haven't talked about it since not wanting to pop the bubble you two have made together.

I'll give you what you want Saturday night.

You see that he read it, but didn't reply. He knows that you're able to deliver, or else your life depended on it.

As you get out of bed and head to your kitchen, you caught a whiff of pancakes and eggs.

"I wanted to serve you in bed." Matt says, as he's still flipping food on the skillet.

"I'd rather be here with you." You said, hugging him from behind.

Soon, you two ate by the dining table and lounged around in your living room. You haven't gone out of your luxurious apartment, fearing that Fisk's spies would catch you in public.

For the past few days, they were either full of passionate nights as you drank white wine in your bedroom or the picket fence life when you two would mindlessly dance around your house listening to your record player.

Each moment was blissful.

Now you were on the couch, kissing every inch on Matt’s face as held you tightly.

“I gotta ask... when you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?" Matt asks.

You hum in thought, biting your lip.

"A music teacher."

"Really?" He asks as you two sat up.

"Yeah, I always loved music at a young age. During college, I had to find an internship in order to graduate. I saw a flyer for a part-time job at a public school. I think they just needed the kids to join a curriculum after school so their homeroom teacher wouldn't burst into flames. I applied and got the job as a music teacher for the rest of the school year playing piano, ukulele, and guitar. Guess those kids made an impact on me 'cause I loved it so much."

"Wow, that's pretty cool." Matt says.

"Yeah, took me back to simpler times. Guess you can say I'm in the wrong profession." You chuckled, hoping he'd join in.

But there was dead silence.

"Don't, don't go back to them." Matt says.

You look down at your lap, as the uneasiness of this topic was hard to avoid now.

"If I stay, they're going to find us. I can't let that happen." You said.

"Then we go to the feds, I know some people who can help." Matt assured you, but you get from the couch.

"You know damn well no one escapes from Fisk."

Matt gets up as well, feeling the anger build.

"Then we'll find another way, together." He says, holding your hand

You look down, your heart breaking. This was the man you've been hunting down, but also the person you've been falling hard for. He's wanting to give everything up, for you.

"I know what we could do, but that means ending him... for good."

Matt feels helpless. He's tried his hardest to do what's right, to not submit to the sins he has already left behind.

But being here with you was his saving grace, as he never felt more alive in his life than with you.

He closes in the gap between you and holds you close, as his features crumble down.

"I would choose forever only if it’s with you."

You hold his face in your hands as you connected foreheads.

"We'll finally get that happy ending, together..."

You two then planned to get Fisk offguard. You'll lull Fisk into a vegetative state with your powers while Matt fights off anyone that stops your way. The only way to start this plan was if he got backup. So when he appeared at the office with you by his side, Foggy and Karen were upset. Matt and you told them of how you got your powers and that you've been working for FIsk all of this time.

"You broke my friend's heart, tortured him under the orders of your boss that's been trying to kill him, took him away for days without us knowing, and you want us to help you?" Foggy asks in a rage.

Karen looks at you, betrayed.

"Taking out Fisk like this isn't right, you know it too, Matt."

Matt held your hand as he speaks up to his friends.

"The last time I went after Fisk, I thought I lost an inch of my life. I am here, asking you to help us and end this fight for good."

You look at them as the guilt began to crawl on your back.

"What I did wasn't right, but I had no choice. Fisk thought he could form me into something sinister, but not anymore. I'm done with fighting, we're done with hiding."

Foggy looks at Matt, worried. When he realizes that you never let go of Matt's hand, he saw that you were worried too.

"Damn it." Foggy mutters as he lightly punched the desk in front of him.

He looks at you two, placing his hands on his hips.

"What do you want us to do?" Foggy asks.

"I'll deliver Matt to Fisk at a new shipping port, we'll sail across the bay and we'll take him out before the ship anchors. You'll wait for us at the destination and drive us out."

Karen crosses her arm, unimpressed.

"Fisk will know if Matt is at full strength. I'd think he'll notice he's not beaten to a pulp." Karen says.

You give Matt a side glance as he tightens his grip on your hand.

"That's when you come in. My powers have no limitations, so I need you to stop me if I hurt Matt by placing him under a spell."

She shoots up from her seat.

"You are not doing that to him!" She says, overprotectively.

Matt takes a step forward.

"It'll be the only way Fisk will know I'm not at full potential. She said it will only last about an hour and I'll return back at full strength. I trust her."

Karen shakes her head and left the office, not speaking to you or Matt. Foggy chases after her.

"Well, that was better than I expected." Matt said.

You huff when you sat down on the desk, staring out at the window.

"They don't want to lose you, I'd react like that too."

Matt joins you on the edge of the desk and lowers his head to the floor.

"We thought this out, right?" He asks.

You scoff and give a dry laugh.

"Only you could make a joke at a time like this." You said, nudging his shoulder.

You look at him, feeling a sort of guilt.

"Did you mean that you said? That you trust me? I mean, I almost killed you."

Matt moves his head to your direction.

"I do. More than you know."

You place the side of your head on his shoulder.

"We really didn't think this through." You said.

"They'll come around. I promised I'd come to them first if I wanted to take down Fisk, they have every part in this fight as we do. Then, we can live the lives we always wanted, together. "

You smile at the thought of a provincial life with Matt, making your heart shed off the ice it was once protected by.

"Together." You said, intertwining your hand in his.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wesley and Fisk come out of the car at the meet up. They both look slightly irritated as they await you.

Soon, they see a car drive up and see you dressed in dark attire. Your leather heeled boots echo onto the pavement.

"Where were you?" Fisk asks.

"I thought to have fun with the devil himself, wanted to see what was all of the trouble since your guys can't catch him."

Wesley walks up, his jaw locked.

"Survivors said that you left them to die when you let him escape." He says, joining his hands in front of him.

Your gaze darkens, but you scoff.

"You really going to trust them? They were sloppy: made his restraints lose so he fought his way out. It was their fault, so they had to pay the price."

Fisk didn't reply when Wesley turned to him, trying to see your game.

"Where is he?" Fisks asks.

You turn around and walk towards the trunk of your car. Fisk motions to Wesley for him to follow you. When you open your trunk, It reveals a body bag, but Wesley isn't impressed.

"Open it." He demands.

You show no emotion and unzip it, revealing the masked Daredevil.

"Used my powers, he's pretty useless if you want anything out of him." You said.

Wesley turns to Fisk and nods his head.

"Zip him up and we'll have someone take him in. We need to talk, privately."

"Fine." You said. You left the car as you followed Fisk and Wesley to a private room on the ship. The room was small, but very elegant for Fisk's comfort. Windows surrounded the area as you see the front deck and the night sky. Once you settle, Fisk pours you and him a drink.

"I have to admit, you surprised me." Fisk said, cooly.

"You know I always deliver." You said.

"That is true. Some had doubts." Fisk said, giving a side eye to Wesley.

You cross your legs, giving an innocence look. Wesley never liked you before.

"Oh really?" You ask, taunting him.

He doesn't display much emotion, but you know he's biting his tongue.

Fisk gets out of his chair and walks around the room.

"Don't place the blame on him, some doubt came from me as well. I know how rebellious you can be, including your... love affairs."

The hairs on your neck started to stick like pins. You remember getting your powers for the first time. You felt invincible, wanting to lure men you attracted and left them for dead. Wesley had to clean up the mess like he always does for you. Fisk told you that caving into your powers is a dangerous thing, especially when they're driven by desire.

"I'm not like that anymore, you know that."

He gives a dry chuckle as he puts down his cup.

"Yes I do. You changed a lot. But I need to know where your loyalties lie."

A light brightens outside. You get up from your chair and peer down, almost gasping.

Dozens of bodyguards surrounded an unconscious Daredevil that was chained to the ground. He was forced on his knees, his head lulling side to side.

"I'm surprised you didn't unmask him." Fisks asks.

"I didn't see the fun in it." You said in a small voice, your eyes still locked on him.

Fisk comes closer to you, coldly smiling.

"I want you to do the honors." He says.

You swear you felt your heart dropped in your stomach as you look up, almost horrified.

You didn't have time to respond as Fisk gave you a box.

"A gift from me. What better way to use it then on the devil of Hell's Kitchen?"

You forced yourself to fake a smile.

"It'll be an honor."

Once you walked away to the staircase, you try your hardest not to waiver. Everything was set in slow motion. You arrive on the deck, as all eyes were on you. You uncover the box's lid and see a gun sitting on the cushion like a diamond necklace.

Typical of Fisk, dramatizing everything he did

Your eyes centered on Matt who still looked unconscious. Your cold hands lifted the gun from inside and you lifted it up in the air, slowly raising your arm and facing it to the one you loved.

"Hey." a whisper called out to you.

You look down and see Matt lifting his head, grinning in a small manner.

"Still have faith in us?" he asks.

You couldn't help but smile in relief.

"Still do, keep your head low."

You twirled around to the guards and let out a scream. Everyone is forced on their knees, trying to cover their ears but it was no use. They were powerless under your voice.

You know their will be more guards coming your way and helped Matt out of his bonds.

"We really need to stop meeting like this." he joked.

You chuckle, as you try hard to not kiss him when he throws quips like that. You help him to his feet and hear more coming.

"How many do you think are on the boat?" He asks.

"Maybe 30 tops." You said.

"I handled more." He said, ready to throw his punhces.

"Apparently, you don't know me well enough." You said. The first guard that came charging at you both, you dodged down and swooped him from under his legs, knocking him out as you strike him with your knee.

Matt was impressed, but shortly stopped as he punched another guard.

You two were almost invincible, fighting side by side. You turn around, thinking it may be over, but Fisk looms over you with fury in his eyes.

You were about to open your mouth, but Fisk grabbed you by the throat and lifted you in the air.

Matt turns around as he hears you struggle and ran towards you, but Wesley stepped in his way, pointing a gun at him.

"Not your turn yet." Wesley said in a monotone voice.

All you could do was try to wriggle out of Fisk's grip but it got harder to focus.

"I gave you your gift, I gave you a career, and this is what you give back to me? Betrayal?" Fisks screams.

All you could do is smile wickedly at him with hysteria.

"Guess I'm not the villain you'd thought I'd be."

You found a pocket knife in your pocket and took it out, slicing Fisk's arm. He lets go of you, screaming in pain. You landed on the floor, already feeling the bruising around your neck. When you look up, you see Matt trying to get to you. Little did he know, Wesley was pointing his gun at him.

"No." you whispered. With your last strength, you got up and drew in a breath, releasing one final song.

Fisk falls on his knees, trying to shut out your voice as well as Wesley. But the gun went off, and you only had enough time to hold onto Matt as you pushed yourself and Matt overboard.

You felt the impact of the water as your body hit it, and swim upwards. You gasp for air, trying to look for Matt. You see him struggle a few feet away from you, so you scream out for him so he could hear your voice.

He holds onto you tightly as you grabbed him firmly.

"Don't- let go" You stammered as you helped him steady himself in the water.

Fisk and Wesley get up and look over the ship, as they lost you and Daredevil in the darkness of the night.

"What now?" Wesely asks.

"Right now, we'll assume they're dead. There's bigger fish to fry." Wilson said as the two make their way back inside.

As morning rose, Foggy and Karen were sitting in a rental.

"They should have came hours ago." Foggy says.

Karen looks down at her phone, trying to see if any of you texted or call.

"Still no reply."

Foggy shakes his head and unbuckles his seat belt, getting out of the car.

"I need to get out, I can't stand not doing anything."

They were parked by the opposite dock of where you promised to meet them, and Foggy decided to walk down the rocky path that connected the water. He looks casually over the water, thinking he sees an abnormal rock that the water pushed forward. But somehow, it looked more round and red, with two pointy ears sticking out.

"Karen!" Foggy yelled out, as he started running towards the helmet. Soon, he sees his friends' bodies as they washed up on shore. Matt still clung out to you as both of you appeared unconscious.

Foggy tears Matt off of you and performs CPR.

"C'mon man." Foggy whispers, as he keeps pushing down.

Karen runs over and sees what's happening and begins to pale. She resumed running as she tries to perform CPR on you.

Soon, Matt coughs out water and tries to breathe.

"Matt buddy, we're here," Foggy says, trying to calm him down.

"Where- Where is she?" Matt asks as he was still coughing. Foggy was about to point out that Karen was trying to resuscitate you, but his face fell. Karen could only look down at you with blood on her hands, seeing the bullet wound in your side.

Matt could smell the blood, that was all he was smelling.

"No, no no no no." He murmured, trying to crawl to you. Foggy tried to help but pushed him aside.

Matt held your cold body in his arms, as he tried to heart beat or hear you say something, anything to him

"Come back to me." Matt begged, rocking you in his arms.

He screamed out in pain as his two friends stood behind him, looking at their friend who lost everything.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matt walked along the sidewalk, smiling to himself.

He finally came to his destination at a busy entrance to a catholic school. Matt took out his visitor's pass and walked along the hallways.

"Hi Mr. Murdock, we've just prepared the room for you." Shelly, the middle aged receptionist said as she took his arm.

"Thanks for having me come, Shell." Matt said.

"Of course, the kids love you. Especially since you're dating their music teacher." She said, opening the door.

"-now everyone! I'd like you to welcome Mr. Matt Murdock from Nelson, Murdock, and Page: Attorneys at Law!" A voice said out loud to busy kids.

They all cheered as Matt enters to the front of the room, folding his walking stick.

"It's great to be here! I work at a law firm that I and my friends made together..."

He talked about his job and had a few questions from the kids. But the last one that made him slightly turn was when he was going to marry their teacher.

The dismissal bell finally rang and all the kids left, saying goodbye to their guest speaker and teacher. A pair of heels goes up to Matt, smirking at him.

"I hope I didn't bore them." Matt said.

"You didn't, they loved you." You said, smiling.

You survived the incident from the boat two years ago. You didn't know if it was your powers or if the bullet go through all the way: you were still alive. Matt could hear a faint heartbeat and told his friends to drive you to the nearest hospital.

You woke up a few days later, seeing Matt by your side. Since then, you two became closer and you found a great place to restart your life, working as a music teacher at a catholic middle school.

"Shall we head out?" Matt asks.

You hum in agreement as you and Matt planned to get something by the cafe next door and have a small picnic.

"Yep, I'm starving. Anything else planned?" You ask jokingly.

Matt chuckles as he had a ring in his pocket as he wanted to propose to you.

"Eh, Got a trick up my sleeve. Nothing too special."

You roll your eyes as you hold Matt's hand as you walk out of your classroom.

"Be careful, Mr. Murdock... I'll torture it right out of you. I always have a lasting effect on you."

Matt grins before kissing you as you made it outside.

"That you do, my siren... that you do"

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x vigilante!reader #dare devil #dare devil x reader #matt murdock #marvel #oc marvel

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