#matt murdock au

[cellophaine]

Shy

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: Abs riding – a hint of sub/dom dynamic, sweet talk, praise kink, cum eating.

Author's Note: I finally got around to writing this prompt that was on my list for forever! I just want to go 😖👹 on his delicious yummy abs holy crap somebody take the wheel 😵‍💫

*Everything in italic is flashback*

GIF made by me.

You knew how it went. It always started out innocent until one of you wanted something from the other. 

… damn him and his abs. 

Matt was shirtless, reclining on the spacious couch with you lying on his side, your head on his chest. He was laughing at a joke on the TV, but you couldn't register what was on since you had tuned it out a while ago, ever since you placed your hand on his midriffs. You leisurely caressed the dibs and ridges, feeling the smooth skin with little bumps of tiny scars. Your legs squeezed together to relieve the tension of something that was missing. You squirmed a little in your position; your mind wandered far away from the cozy living room, wondering if you could make yourself come on his–

"What are you thinking about?"

You blinked, lifting your head to look at him. His unsighted gaze had turned to where you were, a small grin on his lips that softened his face with all the faint wrinkles. 

"You seem distracted, and you're squirming a lot."

You put your hand on his chest, moving it in a soothing pattern to ease his concern.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to distract you. You can go back to–"

"No no, you can tell me. What's wrong?"

His hand gently squeezed at your side, imploring you to be honest with him.

"Nothing's wrong. I just … I wonder if– you know what? It's really stupid."

You tried to sit up, but his hand stopped you. Instead, Matt pulled you closer so you would sprawl on top of his sturdy frame; his other hand gripped your chin to keep you facing him, making it impossible to hide.

"Tell me."

You took a deep breath, knowing there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

"I want to … ride your … abs."

Matt didn't say anything for a moment, and you felt your stomach drop in anxiety over a stupid proposal.

"Never mind I said anything. It's–"

"I'm surprised you didn't ask me sooner, sweetheart."

The smirk on his face was sinful, and you knew you were in for a day spent in bed with him. Or on the couch. Either way, you wouldn't mind.

And now, here you were, moving on top of him fervently like there was a fire you couldn't put out. Your arousal painted a sheer coat of translucent essence on his abdominals. You moved back and forth, swivelling your hips, revelling in the effortless glides of your wet folds on his smooth skin with all the pronounced definition underneath. It tied a knot in your lower belly in a foreign style, and you eagerly worked yourself up to unravel it. His hands grabbed at either side of your thighs, helping you move with ease. The grasp wasn't painful but tight like a pair of shackles, anchoring you to his heavenly body. Matt was laid back, completely in control, while you lost your mind over the strange feeling, your head thrown back with needy moans spilling out of your mouth. You repositioned yourself to move your hips just right, making your clit rub on the dibs and rise. The repeated friction drew more arousal from your core, leaking juice all over his muscles with your frantic movement. That fresh wave of pleasure hit you, causing your face to burn with the embarrassment of doing something so filthy. So debauchery. Your hips slowed as you held back your moans, and your head dipped slightly in self-consciousness. Matt's hand came up and searched for your face. He gripped your chin, pulling at your bottom lip so it would relax. 

"Don't get shy on me now, sweetheart. Get what you want from me."

As if he could sense your hesitation still, he persisted.

"Don't think about it too much. Stay with me. Can you do that for me?"

You shyly nodded, which earned you an approving smile from him. You resumed the motion, working yourself up again. Matt's hand slipped underneath your sweatshirt, covering one breast and kneading with his calloused palm. The rhythm of your breathing became short and heavy, unsteady with each glide of your sensitive bundle of nerves on his abs. His fingers teased your nipple, playing with the aching nub. You whimpered, feeling overwhelmed with your senses being toyed with under his influence.

"That's it. That's my good girl."

His praise went to your head, sending a pleasant wave of bliss to your core, encouraging you to chase that high. You moaned wantonly as Matt tweaked your nipple; his hand on your ass pulled you towards the definition of his abs, magnifying the sensation. Hearing you let yourself go seemed to affect Matt too. His chest and neck were flushed, and his lips parted as he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of your arousal. His cock was so hard it ached, creating a tent in the sweatpants he wore. You moved faster on top of him, and you were close; Matt could feel it. Upon your desperate whines, he flexed his abs; his hands helped you move faster and faster. The dam broke, and you came undone with a choked cry, your hands braced on his chest to hold yourself up. You caught your breath, his hand tenderly stroking at your hips, coaxing you down from the orgasm. Your eyes fluttered, feeling hazy from the exertion. But they snapped wide open when you saw Matt gathering the wetness on his stomach and bringing the fluid to his lips. You watched as he sucked on his fingers, moaning at the taste. Even after what you just did, you still couldn't help but blush. 

Matt pulled you down with him, unabashedly searching for your lips with his own. You could taste yourself on him, and you shivered at how it turned you on. When you parted to pull air into your lungs, Matt whispered against your lips, a mischievous glint hidden in his tone. 

"We should do that more often."

You felt your face heat up and couldn't help the giggle that escaped at the suggestion. You buried your face in Matt's chest, closing your eyes as you felt the rise and fall of his ribcage and the beat of his heart underneath your cheek, steady as ever, grounding you.

*Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!*

[ddejavvu]

m.list - matt murdock

blurbs:

you interrupt matt's patrol

matt's tired after patrol

you like matt's chest hair

professor!matt

showering with matt

matt + "where did your clothes go?"

prince!matt

kidnapper!matt

matt + edging

matt + enemies to lovers

stalker!matt | 2

matt comforting you after a nightmare

you're insecure during sex

matt notices your harmful habits

matt cuddles you on your period

mafia!matt

matt learns to braid

patching matt up after patrol

priest!matt

roommate!matt

matt + rivals to lovers

matt makes a better second impression

your dog likes matt's seeing eye dog

[devilfic]

Saw the previous Matt Murdock post and I can’t help but think of him as college professor dynamic???!

LIKE HOW WOULD HE BE?

❝criminal law professor!matt murdock❞

cw: law school professor matt being everyone's wet dream, brief mention of alcohol, brief suggestive content. words: 1.3k.

AHHHHHHH criminal law professor!matt who never set out to teach but got invited to a lecture held by an old lawyer friend of his and built up such good rapport with the students that when one of them came up to him after class and told him they'd sign up for any class he'd teach, the cogs started turning

only teaches one class a semester, probably one class a year

one of those professors that almost everybody wants to get in with but is prone to several dropouts after the first two weeks because of his teaching style

he's very casual most of the time but very much hands-on and will not let up on you for a second if he thinks it's a teaching moment

he's relentless. he is not an easy A but you will come out of his class better than you went in

his favorite part of the job is getting into ethical debates with the students

likes to do a lot of mock trials and very regularly stick his students with cases that test their moral judgment

it's not to make them feel bad or play at having the higher moral ground if they make a "wrong" decision, but more so to force them to consider what they're willing to compromise on to win a case

and whether winning cases is the best thing for them or for their client

he's the type of professor who will gladly stay an hour or two after class just chatting it up with students over cases he's done in the past or answering questions about practicing law professionally

he grades hard but he always offers ample feedback to make his students do better next time

has a saying that he'll never turn down a coffee from a student trying to butter him up

and immediately follows up with "it won't make me change your grade but it will help me remember your name"

this motherfucker definitely likes to sit on the edge of his desk while teaching, too

undoes his tie a bit when he gets passionate about a topic, rolls up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, has to stop himself from pacing the room without his walking stick when he feels particularly excited about a discussion

does not care about late work like at all

as long as you get it to him before the end of the semester, you'll be fine

you'll be panicking, emailing him about how you're so sorry but your laptop got stolen on your way home and that you'll have to rewrite your entire paper from scratch in the school lab tonight so it'll be a day late and you'll get a response back in 4 minutes that just says "No problem, stay safe - Sent from my iPhone"

and... your laptop is mysteriously returned a few days later. apparently whoever stole it had a serious change of heart. you also got a 98 on your paper

(he may not be swayed to change your grade with coffee but he is a bit of a softie when it comes to stuff like this)

he's also just the hottest professor on campus. do I even have to say it at this point

comes to class everyday in a nice button-up, very form-fitting trousers (none of his students have ever seen him in a pair of jeans nor will they), glasses perched on the tip of his nose, a leather messenger bag at his side that is mysteriously well-stocked with first aid supplies, and a loose red tie around his throat

do you see the vision

cancels class often because of daredevil business and treats these as days to work on papers

tries not to cut class short because of daredevil business

it actually makes him a bit sad when he has to, and so he makes it an open invitation that if students catch him out in the wild or walking around campus, they can bother him as much as they want

his TA is a little (a lot) exasperated with him but he makes up for it by buying them food. it has actually put a dent in his budget at this point but their appeasement makes it worth it

he has an office on campus but he very rarely uses it for office hours, you can pretty much find him anywhere BUT his office

he likes to meet in coffee shops or lecture halls or parks on campus because he feels like it's less daunting for students to just sit and talk out in the open

he's very popular on valentine's day

students and faculty alike will shower him with chocolates and mini bottles of wine and roses and proposals to go out for drinks sometime and he always accepts the gifts graciously

and then passes them onto his TA, karen, or foggy

although he'd be lying if he said he didn't keep some of the wine for himself

he has a strict rule against dating within the university, he'd just rather it not be awkward

now,,, a one night stand with a fellow professor maybe? no strings attached? he's not opposed to that

let's just say that tie and office are getting put to good use-

if you're a student and want a piece though, you're gonna have to wait until you've gotten your degree, sorry

he happens to like his one class a semester/year and he'd very much not like to deal with the legal repercussions of getting caught with a student. repercussions of which he is well-versed in

but alright. I mentioned that he sometimes has to cancel class because of daredevil business and so I MUST tackle the big question: does anyone suspect him

yes and no

it starts out simple. sometimes he shows up to lectures with cuts and bruises, some bandaged but fresh, and swears that it's nothing to worry about. you might catch him wearing the rare sweater on those days, even

when he gets questioned about it, he sort of spins some half-baked lie about boxing being his part-time hobby

and then people start noticing that he's never around when there's a daredevil sighting

now, he doesn't always cancel class for daredevil business. sometimes it's because he's got a client to take care of!

but he also loves to invite his students to sit in on the less serious cases so. what gives

one student starts a rumor and then it kind of becomes a joke in class that professor murdock is secretly daredevil

most of them don't take it seriously because how could their sweet, chill, blind professor murdock be a crime-fighting vigilante? it just wouldn't make sense!

and you know what this bitch does? he feeds into it

student: yeah, professor murdock is daredevil. that's a good one

matt: what do you mean?

student: oh, it's just a joke! we know you couldn't be daredevil

matt: but I am

student: hahaha that's funny

matt: no, I really am daredevil. haven't you noticed? same build, never in the same place at the same time, devilishly handsome

student: uh-huh, sure thing professor

matt: is it cause I'm blind? that's pretty insensitive, don't you think? you don't think blind people just read braille all day and get walked across the street, do you? is that what you think?

student: well I mean no but like... I mean.... uh....

matt: nahhh I'm just fucking with you. I am daredevil, though

student: hahaha for sure man, definitely

matt:

he does fly too close to the sun one day though when one of his students tries to debate him in class about it for shits and giggles and accidentally comes up with such a compelling argument for why he could definitely be daredevil that he sort of just nervously laughs and stops making jokes about it for the next four weeks

also keeps a flask in his desk drawer to pour into his mug after a rough night on patrol. but if anyone asks, no the fuck he didn't. mind your business. you have a C in his class

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

[softevnstan]

pairing. matt murdock x gender neutral! reader

summary. you have a tendency of nightmares due to one reason or another in your life. one night, when spending the evening with matt, you have a nightmare. matt, your loving boyfriend, is straight to the rescue to help ground you.

warnings. pet name here is used as a gender-neutral time - angel. deals with nightmares, but nothing too heavy. standard religious mention given it is matt - not mainly focused and no religious imagery, just briefly mentioned.

a.n. some fluffy matt x reader while i've been having nightmares and while i'm still working on a few requests as asks - i know it's not spicy but i still hope it makes people smile

words. 1.5k (shorter side)

You recognize your childhood home; standing out on the curb and feeling small at the front of a place that now holds an eerie air to it. Something about it feels wrong, but you can’t place it. The sun is peeking out over the top of the roof, casting you into a dark shadow that adds a gloom to a place that once felt so secure and protected. 

The rising bubble of anxiety in your stomach wells more and more. Deep in your gut, you can feel it. How everything feels uncomfortably silent - not so much as a passing car or a bird in the air. When your eyes lift to squint at the sky to search for clouds, you see it. The slowly sliding disk that is overtaking the sun. The star sustaining life to your planet slowly dying as it’s devoured by the endless abyss, sending the world into a quickly spreading darkness. It spills over the land and while someone else could argue it’s a solar eclipse, there is a more sinister energy to it. Evil.

You can’t breathe. Your body feels like lead when you turn to race away before you can be swallowed into the dark – despite your best efforts you can’t outrun it. You can see yourself running. Moving as fast as you can, feel your heart hammering in your chest and your lungs aching for air. You’re running for your life, but it’s not enough, it’s gaining on you–

You jump up in a cold sweat; sucking in a shrill gasp with a tremor through your body. Fingers white-knuckling the sheets as you jerk upward – confused and startled, you’re immediately brought back to reality by the familiar voice calling out to you.

“Angel? It’s me, shh... Yeah, it’s me, Angel,” your boyfriend’s voice – Matt’s voice.

“Shh, it was just a bad dream… I’ve got you, sweetheart..” His voice was rough from sleep but he'd sobered himself of his exhaustion enough to sound warm and inviting. Composed and fluid. Making himself into something stable and firm for you to lean on at that moment.

The panic of being nearly engulfed by the ebony black blocking out the sun still feels like a genuine threat. Your heart drumming in your ears and leaving you short of breath like the bumps in the car that take you unexpectedly and your stomach swoops. Matt notices the crossroads you’re at between fight or flight and tries to coax you before your body can react too harshly.

“Breathe with me, angel.” His voice is even, thick like honey as lips coast the shell of your ear. Typically it’d give you chills, but right then it feels comforting to be surrounded by someone else.  Matt is sat up with you, tight against your side and arm wrapped around you. The other comes to lay his hand flat on your sternum. You feel the warmth of his palm; the weight of it feels grounding in an odd sense. A comforting pressure.

You practice deep breaths with Matt – in through the nose, out past chapped lips. Your throat feels tight, and a bottle of water is absolutely in your future.

Matt doesn’t ask - he knows you’ll talk about it when you’re ready. And given the way he’d heard your heart pounding in your chest like it was about to burst free of its cage goes to show it was an intense dream. That’s not even counting the light rustling he’d started to feel and what had initially stirred him. Could hear every struggling, quivering breath. The near silent whimpers that pulled from you. Matt is more than relieved that moment has passed; pressing an encouraging kiss to your temple.

“There you go, that’s right.. I’ve got you.” Rubbing his hand sympathetically up and down your arm from where it rests on your shoulder farthest from him. You gravitate to Matt naturally, leaning your weight into him to feel small and protected. Matt would protect you from anything; Maybe even God himself. 

Tucking away, you hide against the crook of Matt’s neck. Still deliberately trying to focus on your breathing and quell the deep unease from within. His hand on your arm lifts, letting knuckles softly brush the slope of your jaw. “You’re tight, sweetheart… Can you unclench your jaw for me? Yeah, just like that, perfect…” Going out of his way to assure that you’re not holding anything unnecessarily tight.

So intune with your body, it’s one of those things that always made Matt so considerate and gentle to you. His attentiveness, to the way he goes out of his way to listen for any discomfort or unease.

By the time he’s done with you, you’re jelly in his lap. Soft sniffles from tears you hadn’t even realized you’d almost shed. You were lucky enough they only watered; no need to suffer the embarrassment of crying over a nightmare that wasn’t even all that scary looking back on it. It was just the energy it emitted. How sick it felt; an imminent doom. It was scary. After a moment of calm quiet and deep breaths, Matt speaks up. “Do you want to try laying back down, angel…? Or are we staying up?” We. Matt really was with you for better or for worse, even in little insignificant moments like these.

You swallow hard around the lump, searching for your voice: “I… I don’t want to go back to sleep. Not yet…” You don’t mean to sound so quiet or rough; Matt picks up on it and his lips can’t help but curl into a soft smile. “Sounds like you need a drink anyways… How about we make some tea? I think we still have a box in the cabinet.”

You’re out in the living room with Matt. Both of you on the couch, Matt is more towards the corner seat so he can prop his elbow up on the arm. You, on the other hand, are pressed right against his side. The plaid throw blanket from the back of the couch draped over your lap - your legs are tucked up to keep your body closed up. Leaned right against Matt, where he has an arm stretched around you. In both your hands you nurse mugs of warm tea. 

Fidgeting quietly with the tea bag – steeping it to make sure it’s thoroughly flavored.

“I didn’t believe Karen when she said these teas would change our lives,” Matt jests softly with an airy chuckle, lifting to take a languid sip from his mug.

“I still think it was a sweet gift; she knows you have a hard time sleeping,” You reply quietly - the corners of your lips curling into a delighted smile all the same as you watch the liquid in your cup.

“Seems I’m not the only one, though.”

That sours your mood briefly - eyes lifting to look at Matt’s dead eyes that stare at nothing. 

The lights from across the road bleed in and dance across his skin, but even in the dark you make out the dusting of freckles. His dark ginger hair is a mess from bed head and having no one else to look presentable for. No reason to comb it out with his fingers.

“Yeah, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Cheek squished against Matt’s shoulder as you peer up at him.

“Don’t worry about that; I don’t ever want you to struggle alone. I’d rather lose a little sleep if it means I get to make you feel better…”

The words melt your heart. You can feel the genuineness dripping from the statement. Matt never makes you feel like a burden for your struggles; supportive and caring the whole while even if he’s not the best at doing it for himself. Who knew the Devil of Hell’s kitchen was such a sweet lover?

“...Thank you for staying up with me, then, in that case.” You amend - you’ve been trying to incorporate more positive connotations anyways, and apologizing all the time isn’t good. Thanking Matt is a better alternative.

“Always. It’s more time I get to spend with you, anyways. I wouldn’t give that up for anything…”

Matt’s fingers brush back through your hair so he can press his lips to your forehead. Tangle fingers into your hair after just to rub and massage at your scalp with his fingers. You slump against his side and the quiet evening doesn’t feel so miserable anymore with your boyfriend there.

Chit chat ensues for about a half hour. Matt tells you about the couple he can hear a few apartments over and the stray kitten they found outside and are excited to take in. You smile as you go back and forth. Both voices hushed; the calm you need to unwind again and not stay the night awake and in fear. Matt makes it easy to not be so afraid of the dark…

You both go to sleep not long after. Sleepytime tea managed to lull you back into a state of relaxation, and when Matt felt you dozing, he carefully took your empty mug from your hands. Sitting it on the coffee table, he’d then move to gingerly pick you up bridal style and carry you back to bed. Matt spoons you, crowded against your back, and arms wrapped around your waist. Nosing into your hair and always there to protect you from the things that bump in the night - even if they’re inside your head.

[madschiavelique]

𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐀𝐔

This au was first talked about on 04/11/2023 with my amazing bestie @sunflowersandsapphires and I thought it could be cute to share these thoughts !! (I'm gonna post several AUs ideas we had and discussed on throughout the months because DAMN the thoughts are delicious)

please note that english is not my first language and that there might be some little grammar mistakes here and there !

word count : 2,2k

We’re all familiar from up close or far of the myth of Medusa, also known as one of the gorgons. People often tend to forget that there were 3 gorgons on this myth : Medusa (of course), but also her sisters Euryale and Stheno. 

To give you a bit of a refresh on the myth of Medusa – just from memories okay, the versions of each myth vary in mythology and this is the one i remember best – she was in love with Poseidon and the god decided at one point to bring her to one of Athena’s temples so that they could make love there, her two sisters helping her getting in. 

The two lovers were taken during the act by Athena herself who cursed the 3 women by making them gorgons, creatures with snake hair (and body too I believe) that could turn to stone anyone that made the mistake of looking at them in the eyes.

So my mind went like “huh, wait a minute you’d have to be able to see to actually turn to stone right ? So what would happen if-” and it all clicked.

I think somehow Athena’s magic on the gorgons would make them prone to often get reached by men that are ill-intended. So who knows, what if reader is one of the gorgon sisters, hum ? 

What if men in the past have tried to come and attack you, what if men in the past successfully killed your two sisters and that you’re now all alone ? What if you lost faith in the possibility of anyone being nice to you, or of anyone not considering you as the monster that you are ?

You lived bitterly, secluded in an area people never walked by in fear of getting attacked by you. You're just so used to people coming to you with the intention of killing you that you expect everything to be a threat. You know better than to be afraid, your powers serve you well enough that you don't have to live in fear.

Until one day, Matt gets lost. He’s never passed through that area before, and the surroundings are so different to his sensitivity. There’s a certain presence, an aura that makes his senses blurry as he walks hesitantly.

Of course, you notice his presence. You’re used to living underground, and the vibrations his footsteps and his stick send through the earth are enough for you to come to the surface. You get out, ready to fight, ready to stare, ready to kill.

He hears you, turning around and simply asking “Hello ?”

But ironically, you’re the one to freeze this time : he is looking in the void, and the usual signs of petrification are not lining up on his body. You frown, and the gut wrenching feeling of fear takes you as much as the weight lifting sensation of relief.

Maybe your powers aren’t working anymore, maybe this is your last moments of torment, maybe you will join your sisters in Hell, maybe you’ll die and get humiliated once more. 

But maybe you’re finally free from your curse, maybe only the snakes remain on your head but you can’t turn anyone to statues anymore : maybe you can finally get out of this situation where you’re all alone.

You just want to make sure though, so you step forward a bit, not entirely in case he tries to attack you by surprise, and ask “Why have you come here ?”

He tilts his head towards the sound of your voice, a curious gleam passing his eyes as his eyes won’t settle on you.

“I’m lost.” he answers.

Now you scoff, thinking it’s another trick to make you fall. You’ve had wise men trying to kill you in the past, using their wits to trap you in enigmas or other stupidities that would bring your downfall. 

“I don’t fall for tricks and traps,” you say as you step closer to him.

He doesn’t seem to step back, nor does he seem afraid, not in the slightest. You tilt your head a bit until your eyes bore into his, making sure your gaze is aligned with his own.

He frowns, tilting his own head to the side, “Tricks and traps ?”

Your eyes go wide and your shoulders fall as the realisation hits you : he’s blind.

The fear dissipates, but gives its place to disappointment. Of course your curse is not lifted, of course the possibility of you going back to a semi-normal life is purely impossible. You step back, looking at him as if discovering him for a second time.

“You’re not here to kill me ?” you question as you cross your arms over your chest.

He’s the one to scoff now, placing both of his hands on his stick.

“Kill you ? Why would I do such a thing ?”

There’s genuine confusion in his tone, but you’re not ready to let your guard down about all of this.

“Don’t play ignorant, you know why.”

“I assure you I don’t.” he answers. 

Now you’re both confused.

You are mostly because it’s the first time your powers don’t act on someone, as well as the first time someone isn’t here to kill you nor is aware of your existence.

As for him, he’d just arrived here because he had lost his way, and now here he was in front of a woman that was claiming he was here to kill her. So who could she be that people came so often here with that purpose only ? 

There was something different about you, your smell indicated a strong presence of wet stone, but of something much different. Something that smelled like warm sand, like diluted metal, like scales of snakes. He wondered if perhaps you had one on you, or if the area had plenty of them he had to beware of.

You couldn’t tell if he knew of the legends, for who knows : maybe your sister’s tale had gone forgotten. If he was aware of your story however, he looked like someone pretty calm about it, which made the word ‘unusual’ turn into a euphemism for your situation.

“You’re simply lost ?” you end up interrogating.

“I never used this passageway before,” he conceded, “I wanted to use it as a shortcut, but I’ve never gone this far away from the places I know by heart.”

You continued looking at him. He was well built, enough that his physique could be considered as one of the many heroes that had tried harming you. Yet the more you looked at him, the less the thought of him being here to cause you pain and kill you faded. He only had a bag, and his walking stick. 

Your silence perplexed him.

“Why would people want to kill you ?” he asked again, pulling you back from your reverie.

The question made you feel weird, because it seemed like such an evidence to you that seeing an alternative to this interrogation seemed impossible on the spot. Why would they not want to kill you ? They had plenty of reasons anyway.

“Doesn’t matter,” you answered on the spot as this being somehow the only thing your could provide as an answer.

“I think it does,” he interjected, and your parted your lips.

In all these years of being a gorgon, never had your had much of a conversation like so. He surely didn’t care about your life, and maybe was this another ruse to lure you in and make you easier to kill.

Guessing how answering these questions wasn’t one of your fortes, he sighed.

“Could you help me find my way back, please ?”

You’re hesitant on the case of his demand. Every man before him had wronged you, had turned against you to try and bring some glory to their pathetically short lives while you remained eternal and undefeated. 

What if it was another trick by Athena ? What if this was her final resort to bring glory to humans ?

And in any case, men had taken away your sisters, how could you not be angry at them and not wish to help them ? 

But this one… He seemed kind, disinterested in any kind of glory in any shape or form, just a blind man lost in your woods.

Not daring to be closer to him or even touching him in case this could ease your way into death, you grabbed the foot of his stick and rose back up.

“Hold on to it,” you mumbled as you started walking towards the next path.

You turned a second to him, a grin plastered on his face. Not a vicious one, to your relief, but a grateful smile.

“Why’s a lady like you all by herself on this desertic passage ?” he questioned, walking at your pace as he tried to make sure by waving his arm in front of him that he wouldn’t be hitting anything.

You weren’t here to make friends with men, but you hadn’t talked to anyone in a while. The sight of him having so much trouble directing himself because of your gauche handling of his stick sent you a wave of pity. You dropped the wood, and he stopped, surprised.

“Already there ?” he asked in surprise.

But you came to him, taking his hand and have it circle your arm so that he could still use his stick.

“Thank you,” he softly smiled as you both started walking again, your mind trying to chase away the way his arm against yours felt. “So, why are you all alone in here ?”

“Because bad men chased me until there was no place other than there for me to live,” which wasn’t far off the mark.

“Exiled ?” he interrogated.

“Feared.” you breathed.

“How could you be feared ?” the question rang wrong to him.

“How could I not,” you almost laugh as your free hand comes to caress the neck of a snake.

“I don’t find you terrifying,” his lips came to form an inverted smile as he rose his eyebrows.

“It’s because you are safe from my unwanted danger.” 

“Am I holding the hand of the most dangerous person to ever be ?” he laughed, the lack of seriousness in his tone making the situation all the more ironic for you.

“You just might,” you answered, a bit less tense than you were seconds ago.

“Well, it pleases me,” he admitted and you stiffened.

Trying to play it cool and not get nervous that this could be your last conversation ever, you asked : 

“To be in danger ?”

His head turned to yours, his gaze still lost somewhere you could never be in.

“To be in good company.”

Your walk with him came to an end, and Matt had by now remembered the way to get to the path. He wished you goodbyes, and you came back to your cave thinking how much of a strange situation it had been. 

He hadn’t tried to kill you on the way, but maybe had an acolyte of some sort of his placed a trap in your cave. You meticulously made your way back to your place, but nothing different was to be found.

What an odd encounter.

And thus he came a second time to you.

“I’ve lost my way again,” he had explained.

“Have you got the memory of a goldfish ?”

But nevertheless, you had accompanied him back again, and had chatted again, and waved goodbyes again.

But still, he kept getting lost, and kept coming back to you for your guidance. 

You had the full conviction by now that he had the worst sense of orientation a man could have ever gotten.

And he had the full conviction that you were not a monster, so he pretended to not know his way although he now knew it by heart just to have an excuse to meet you again and talk to you.

“Seems like I really can’t remember my way anymore.”

“Matt, you always come to me with the exact same path, you know that right-”

“Really can’t remember it anymore, such a shame, looks like you’ll once again have to accompany me.

“It’s the second time you’ve come to see me today.”

Of course he tries to play it off and placing this on his atrocious sense of orientation, but there are some moments where he accidentally lets the cover slip.

“It’s near a huge rock.” you explain again.

“You mean the one shaped like a heart that is about 300 steps from here ?”

“Yes exact- wait a minute, if you know the placement so well, how come you always get lost ?”

“...”

“...?”

“Amnesia has taken me, what were we talking about ?”

“Matt you’ve gotten ‘amnesia’ three times this week. You need to speak to someone about that.

“You shouldn’t worry. Actually I feel like I have most of my sense in your presence lately, your company cures me of my own obliviousness-” he says as he trips over a rock immediately.

And you’re quite oblivious to this, but also the more you understand about this, the least do you complain about it. 

Maybe loneliness started slipping away from you after all.

(I could continue on this au but I have WAY too many others in mind that I want to put out there !!! I'd love to see any of the thoughts you'd have on this au besties <33)

[sgt-morgan]

Guessing Game 🦯

Summary: You and Matt have a little inside joke, turns out you’re hella right

Warnings: AFAB and female identifying reader, Mentions of g!ns, probably blasphemy, Matt’s dangerously beautiful ass. None really, v fluffy.

A/N: This is for all you girlies still waiting for Matt to show his face in She-Hulk. I’ll fill your thirst void. We are gonna get there 2gether I swear.

Pt.2 Robin Bites Back.

Pt.3 The Test

DD Masterlist

“Jesus Christ Matt!” You exclaim, dropping crumbs all over the court documents you had been diligently going over for the past forty five minutes. When your boss (technically) and the man of your dreams walked in with the biggest bruise you’d ever seen, you honestly forgot they were there.

“Blasphemy, really? Don’t worry about it sweetheart.” he chuckled as you rushed over to check him over for more injuries, trying to calm the frantic beating of your heart from the nickname.

“If Jesus could see you, he’d take his own name in vain.” Matt huffed out a laugh at that, as you gently pressed a finger to the bruise. He hissed in pain, and you hissed back in sympathy. “Sorry, What happened?”

“I got in a really gnarly bar fight.” Matt pursed his lips and flexed his-surprisingly-muscular arm. You rolled your eyes and smacked his bicep, He gave an over exaggerated ‘ow!’ And rubbed his arm with a frown. Or so you thought, in reality, there was actually a pretty nasty knife wound there from the same asshole who got his face. He got his injuries fending off a mugging just outside Josie’s.

“Haha Murdock, no way some drunk asshole is gonna punch a blind guy, nobody is that stupid.” Matt could tell you were rolling your eyes, and he smirked.

“What, don’t think I could win a fight? Is it cause I’m blind?” He grinned wolfishly and you flopped back down in your desk chair.

“No Mathew, I’ve seen you move, I bet you take after your dad. Got some sort of illegal fight ring I should know about?” You brushed the crumbs from your papers and started to work again.

“Ah, yeah you caught me sweetheart. Got a fight ring stashed in the old Fogwell’s building. It’s like poetic Justice.” He laughs, sitting opposite you and pulling his own work from his brief case. You laugh and shake your head. God, he loved that sound.

“Yeah, alright wise guy, when are you gonna tell me the truth huh? I’ll bet you’re that man in the black mask, ah what’s his name… OH! Daredevil!” You snapped your fingers and chuckled again, not noticing Matt’s whole body go rigid in panic. He listens to your heart beat for any sighs you weren’t joking, but only found it’s normal steady pace.

“Yeah, I’m secretly a ninja for sure.” He chuckled stiffly, trying to play it off. Luckily, you were already wrapped up in your work, and didn’t even notice the slight flop sweat that ghosted over his brow.

“Alright DD, chop chop. Gotta make sure your day job still pays the bills.” You mumbled, and how right you were.

Matt kept coming to work with bruises, and you kept making jokes about them. He knew you made them because you worried, and if he could joke about it, you figured he was fine. He loved that about you, you had the ability to bring levity to any situation. He was grateful for it. What he was not grateful for, was how close those jokes sometimes hit to the truth.

“Woah! What happened this time DD? Catch that mugger?”

“Whoa there Devilman! You and Spider-Man catch a cat burglar?”

“Jeez man without fear, you’d think with skills like that they would have made you an avenger already.”

Matt laughed at every single one, but that Spider-Man one was just uncanny. Sure, it was a guy robbing a bodega, but it was close enough. You kept up the running gag, and it was honestly surprising Foggy and Karen had never heard you. One day though, you almost caught on to how right you were because his dumb friends were no good with subtlety.

You, Foggy, and Karen all happened to be in the break room one morning, when Matt stumbled in after a rough night. “Hello Daredevil, you give somebody the horns last night?” You said it with such serious nonchalance, that Karen gasped and Foggy spit his coffee across the room. Matt smacked a hand to his forehead and just pictured the cartoonish shock on his friends faces, conjuring memories of Looney Tunes and Scooby-Doo. You turned to look, and Matt made silencing motions behind your back to a wide eyed Foggy and Karen, who were gaping in horror at your joke. “Jeez guys! It was just a joke, right Matty?” You turned just as Matt stoped his wild gestures and he laughed, shrugging off his suit jacket.

“Yeah guys, what. You really think I’m Daredevil or something?” He laughed awkwardly, and Foggy and Karen caught on.

“Oh! Haha! No! Of course not!” Foggy started chuckling awkwardly, and Karen joined him.

“Yeah! Good one!” Karen giggled almost manically, but you didn’t notice, too busy obliviously cleaning up Foggy’s spit take. It was moments like these that Matt was glad that you were a bit of a social ditz.

When the shock wore off, Karen and Foggy found your little inside joke to be hysterical. They joined in on your little jokes as well, cracking off some really good ones, much to your delight.

“Jeez buddy,” you started one morning. “Have a rough evening being Justice?”

Foggy cackled and did a growly Batman voice. “I am Justice, I am vengeance, IM BATMAN!” You laughed and he grinned. Making you laugh was quickly becoming a competition in the office, and by god was he determined to win.

Karen was not to be beat either, she was getting in some real zingers herself.

“Good lord Mathew! Tell the criminals of the Kitchen to stop damaging the goods!” You grimaced at the cut on his cheek.

“You think my face is the goods?” He grinned waggling his eyebrows to an empty corner and you rolled your eyes.

“It’s not the criminals that need to take a break,” Karen scoffed, “It’s all that pent up Catholic guilt.”

You cackle and Karen grinned. You however, not to be beat in this battle of wits, got the last laugh. “You know Karen? I think you’re right! I’m honestly surprised he doesn’t piss holy water.” Matt looked like a wet cat, but Foggy and Karen had tears in their eyes.

Then of course there was the Christmas Sweater incident. “What’s that?” You asked, watching Matt stuff a red piece of clothing back into a brown paper bag.

“What’s this?” Matt tilted his head with a frown, like he always did when he was curious about something. You did what you always did when Matt did this and kissed his up turned cheek and patted it twice. “My sweater for the holiday party.”

“A sweater devil boy? for the holiday party at Josie’s?” You nodded with satisfaction. “The one we planned with Karen and Foggy not three weeks ago?”

“The very same,” Matt nodded, “Yes. We’re also playing Secret Santa. I’ve already got a gift for my pick.” He grinned.

“Good boy!” you grinned and Matt preened, “I’ve got mine as well. Now all we have to do is turn up in one piece, think you can manage Devilman?”

“Only for you.” Matt grinned and he could feel the heat of the blush rising in your cheeks, hear the way your heart rate stuttered at his flirting.

“Cheeky,” you chuckled, and set down the paperwork you copied over to Braille for him with two pats to his right hand. Your little substitute for a wink. “Keep talking like that and I’ll have to find some mistletoe.”

The fabled holiday party came, and Matt did indeed manage to get to Josie’s without a scrape. He could hear you and the other’s whispering in your booth and grinned. He got to your table and you gasped.

“Mathew Murdock, where did you find such ghastly reindeer ears!?” You cackled.

“Peter got them for me, I asked him to pick up my secret Santa gift and he brought these along with him.” He shrugged with his roguish lopsided grin that made your insides turn to jello.

“Well they’re awful, I must have a pair.” You laughed, scooting to make more room for your friend, but first he folded up his cane, and pulled off his jacket revealing his great secret. “MATHEW MEREDITH MURDOCK!” You exclaimed with uncontrollable mirth, Foggy laughed at your presumed and nonsensical middle name. “What is that!?” Pulled over his signature too-tight button up, was a red sweater with holiday trimmings that read ‘IM NOT DAREDEVIL’ in bold print. He smiled in victory as he heard the laughter from his table of friends. Could practically taste your tears of joy, heard the wheezing, and the way you all struggled to catch your breath.

“Oh god, I’m gonna pee myself.” You chortled, clinging to his arm and wiping your tears. Foggy was staring at the thing in shock, and Karen was trying (and failing) to hold back her giggles. He had beaten you all at your own game. “Mathew Murdock, I could kiss you.”

“Please do!” Matt laughed, finally plopping into the empty seat beside you. You smacked his arm and he winked.

“Oh god, let’s start drinking. I’m already exhausted and we haven’t even exchanged gifts.” You sighed with a laugh.

You all laughed, and drank, and sang Holiday tunes until midnight. You also exchanged your gifts. Mostly joke things. Matt bought Karen a ‘half cup’ mug, that was like a sawed off mug with a flat back. “So you can cut back on the caffeine!” He had chuckled. Karen bought Foggy a pack of un-clickable pens, and a rock’n’roll Santa tie. “There, now I won’t strangle you when you play with the pens in your office, no noise!” Foggy bought you a pet rock for your desk, that had little tiny devil horns and google eyes, “you needed a friend,” he grinned, “and what better friend than your very own deskdevil?” You chuckled as well, pulling out the last gift of the night and passed it to Matt, a devil shaped re-freezeable ice pack. “So you can ice your face!” Matt laughed heartily and thanked you, chuckling as you helped him run his hands over the cartoonish horns, and described the color.

When the evening came to a close, Matt left around an hour before you all did, claiming he had court documents he needed to sign and return to a client by tomorrow. Foggy and Karen nodded, and you went with it because you didn’t know the man’s work load, and frankly you were burgeoning on too drunk to care. You had another round of shots, and then the rest of you left. You parted ways with a very inebriated Karen and Foggy at the corner, and headed back to your apartment (also very inebriated). About halfway to your apartment, you got a very uneasy feeling, as if someone was following you. You knew you should have called Matt to come get you.

You kept steady down the alley way, hoping that by subtly walking faster, you’d get back into the streetlights quicker so whoever it was, if there even was someone, would let you go without a fuss. What you didn’t realize, was that when you’re as drunk as you are, subtly speeding up announced itself as a sprint. Then you felt hands jerk you back suddenly, one over your mouth and one jammed something that felt suspiciously like a gun into your back.

“Gimmie the bag and nobody gets hurt.” A voice slurs from behind you. You raise your hands and drop the bag, congratulating yourself mentally for putting your wallet in your front pocket with your phone earlier. You hope that if he takes the bag and you run fast enough, he won’t notice. Thank god it’s just one du-

“Now empty your pockets!” Well, shit. That’s no good. You should have known that shitty drunk assholes traveled in packs. That way, if shit head numero uno forgets, shithead two will inevitably pick up the slack, that’s street slime 101. “You hear me bitch? Pockets!” Shithead number two reaches for your front pocket when-

THWACK!

Oh Merry FUCKING Christmas to you, a vigilante, now shithead one is gonna be jumpy and you’re gonna bleed out in an alleyway from an overzealous trigger finger. God has a sick sense of humor after all, you bet it’s Daredevil, that would REALLY prove God to be a comedian.

“I know you don’t have a gun, let the girl go.” A blur of motion and then in all his glory, the Daredevil. (Because of fucking course.)

“H-how do you know?” Shit bag squirms and grasps you tighter. You roll your eyes, this is gonna take all night, and all you wanna do is drink another beer and imagine Matt’s ass in the new suit you helped him buy, you’re over it. You strike while he’s distracted. “I could have a g-OOF!” You stomp on sleezebag’s foot and head but him in the nose. Yikes, that shit hurt, how do these super dorks do it. Once you were released, you ran behind Daredevil and let him finish knocking the guy out. From behind though, you noticed something very strange. When he finally turned to you, you voiced your assumption.

“You got a familiar ass.” You slurred, scrunching your brow. Daredevil let out a bewildered chuckle.

“Oh? And what might a familiar ass look like?” Matt shook his head, picking your bag up from the sidewalk with a breathy chuckle. You’re drunk, surely you won’t figure it out.

“Peachy, round, hot, very uhhh-“ he nodded and put your bag back on your shoulder, cocking his head to the side with a grin. Just like- “LAWYERLY! OH MY GOD! M-“ he clapped a hand over your mouth shushing you, you squealed and pointed and flailed around.

“Sh! Yes! Baby, you called it! You were right!” He shushed frantically pulling you into the darkened alleyway again. He was stunned, you really managed to figure it out. You recognized him… by his ass. He’s never gonna let you live this down, at least, if you live through this. You locked his palm and he let go of you with a disgusted sound.

When he finally released your mouth you whisper yelled. “Oh my god!? I was right!? Holy shit! You’re! And then I’m- and god! I don’t know where your hands have been DD ew! Gross!” You made spitting noises and blew raspberries, and then went to start shouting again, he frantically shushed you long enough to get you to listen.

“Yes! You’re very clever! Let’s get you home yeah?” He nodded slowly, steering you in the direction of your apartment. He got you there in relative silence, keeping you occupied by jumping from building to building following you. You giggled when he would perch on the rooftops, laughing about him being a ‘poser’ or as ‘blind as a bat’, leading you to sing a drunken rendition of Meatloaf’s bat out of hell much to his amusement and frustration. He had honestly never been more endeared to you, you were taking this whole vigilante thing like a champ, he wondered faintly if it was the booze, but now was not the time. It was slow going, but you made it. He climbed through the window you opened once you got in, and flipped on your couch. To his shock, you plopped into his lap. “Hey there sweet pea!” He laughed, curling his arms around you. Your drunken stupor made you affectionate, he would file that away for later.

“Wow Matty! You’re a hero!” You crow, pulling his mask from his head with a flourish and plopping it on your coffee table. “You got horns and everything! We gotta talk! I know you’re really blind, cause I switched all your socks with My Little Pony socks that one time and you didn’t see,” Matt spluttered at this, but you shushed him with your fingers before he could get more details. “Also, who would go through all the trouble of learning Braille if they were lying. Psh- I wouldn’t for sure! So you gotta have like super smell, or touch, or hearing, or something! Oh Jeez! Super smell! I gotta smell like Josie’s! And that smells real bad! I’m sorry!” You tried to get up and almost fell, so Matt pulled you back onto his lap.

“I do have all those things,” he chuckled, pushing your hair from your face, brown eyes vacantly moving around the room. “But you always smell good! The gross is there, the trash cans outside your building, Josie’s, the homeless robber, but overtop of all that is your skin, and your perfume, and coffee.” He scrunched his nose adorably and you coo and stroke it with a finger.

“Oh Matty, that’s so nice!” You sniffle, “you’re really good at flipping on stuff, are you a ninja?” She gasps, whispering conspiratorially.

“No,” he whispers back, “but my dad was a boxer, and I trained with a guy called stick.” He answered all of the questions you came up with and held you in his lap, he wished that he could live in this moment forever. He wished that he could hold you like this all the time; breathing in your shampoo and talking with you about his life. It was a balm to his aching heart, and a real relief to no longer be lying to the woman he suspected more and more would be his forever.

“Wow Matty, you’re so cool.” You sighed, burrowing into his suit and coiling around him tightly. “I was right all along! You really are Daredevil! Foggy and Karen knew! They suck ass! You should have told me you big meanie, I coulda been helping! I could be your sidekick!” He nodded and chuckled as you start to nod off, muttering about Batman and Robin.

“Yeah, yeah honey, you can be my Robin.” He grinned, kissing your hair.

“Well, you told me a secret, now I gotta tell you one!” You jolted awake suddenly with urgency, and leaned into his ear. “I think you’re really hot, and I wanna kiss you all the time.” You then leaned back and put your finger over your lips tapping the back of his hand twice. “Ok! That’s all! Night Matty!”

Matt sat frozen in shock as you stood, he could feel the currents shifting, hear the soft clothing rustle against your skin as you got undressed and flopped onto your bed. Within seconds you were snoring, and Matt was beaming. He couldn’t believe it, you liked him after all, he’d see how you felt sober. The Daredevil thing is fun for now, but when you’re sober he didn’t know how true that would be.

In the morning, you awoke with a groan, your head aches and you felt like you’d been hit by a bus. Then you remembered you’r really hit boss is a vigilante, and you suddenly felt very awake. You turned your head to check the time, and saw that Matt had left you a glass of water, some Tylenol, and had recorded a voicemail on your phone, his name blinking on your screen over and over. You took the medicine and listened to it with nervous jitters, remembering the nights revelations.

“Hey sweet stuff, I left you some meds, figured you’d be pretty worn out. When you wake up, shoot me a text and we can go get some food, and I’ll fill you in on all the other stuff. If you need anything, let me know. Since you wanna kiss me all the time, you can pay me with those, I hear Daredevil loves being paid in affection. Talk to you soon, bye.”

You stood there again, shocked but grinning. Matt liked you, and now you knew it, but most importantly, you screeched into your empty apartment…

“I WAS RIGHT!”

The sequel

[pinkiebieberpie]

social media au: college!matt murdock x reader

i'll put all characters from marvel's netflix shows in this one because i can, some fluff, some flirting, mostly reader simping over boyfriend matt 😌 enjoy <33 feedback and reblogs are appreciated!!

matthewm

liked by yourusername, foggy_n, karenxx, jjones and 32 others

my girlfriend's dog is so cute 🐶 @ yourusername

yourusername: you both are cute

jjones: he likes me more

matthewm: @ yourusername maybe, but you are the cutest

yourusername

liked by matthewm, foggy_n, frankcastle and 57 others

little photo dump 📚🌻 1) foggy took this pic of me and matt ❤️ 2) trust me, he looks even hotter in person 3) reading time

foggy_n: i'm the best photographer

danny_danny: daily y/n posting about matt

matthewm: ❤️❤️❤️

jjones: you have more books than i have will to live

jjones

liked by matthewm, yourusername, luke_cage and 41 others

am i third wheeling or stealing your boyfriend? @ yourusername @ matthewm

yourusername: 😠😠😠

matthewm: @ yourusername i'm all yours

yourusername: @ matthewm i know 🥺 but jessica is unpredictable

jjones: @ yourusername we are best friends, i'd kill him for you, not steal him

matthewm: @ jjones that's illegal

matthewm

liked by karenxx, foggy_n, luke_cage, yourusername and 40 others

time with friends

karenxx: we have to do this more often

foggy_n: miss you guys

matthewm: @ foggy_n i'm in the same room

yourusername: love you all!!!

matthewm: @ yourusername i'm taking you with me next time

yourusername: @ matthewm or we can spend some time alone?

matthewm: @ yourusername that's even better idea 😌

yourusername

liked by luke_cage, jjones, danny_danny, matthewm and 28 others

study date first, dinner date second

jjones: no pics of you two studying so it never happened

matthewm: foggy told me you are posting photos of me again

yourusername: @ matthewm because i love you

foggy_n: that's true, i told him that

luke_cage: i bet y/n's camera roll is 90% photos of matt

social media au masterlist

[farfromstrange]

Total Eclipse Of The Heart | Matt Murdock

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!vampire Reader

Series summary: The suspicion of a new drug epidemic follows a series of suspicious murders and bloodbaths on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, and the police can’t seem to find the answers. On the search for the truth, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen makes a shocking discovery – vampires are real, there are entire covens of them hiding in plain sight, and they’re not all heartless monsters; they actually have feelings.

Series Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, for Dark Themes, Canon Typical Violence, Blood & Gore, Vampires, Language, Angst, Smut, Dub-Con, BDSM, Dom/Sub Dynamic, sub!Matt, dom!Reader, Blood Play, Choking, Biting, not canon compliant™️

a/n: Here it is! What turned out as a silly little thought is now an ongoing fic. It probably won’t be as long as Foreigner’s God since it doesn’t follow the storyline of the show at all, but it’s still something. The title is inspired by the Bonnie Tyler song, not because of the song itself but because we have a musical in Germany called “Dance Of The Vampires” and they reimagined that song in the musical. It’s my favorite musical of all time (and I’ve seen many) and this work is heavily inspired by the songs. Additional warnings will be added before every chapter!

PART ONE — Matt meets a strange woman at a work gala. From the start, he can tell that she means trouble.

“There are those who curse their fathers and do not bless their mothers. There are those who are clean in their own eyes but are not washed of their filth. There are those—how lofty are their eyes, how high their eyelids lift! There are those whose teeth are swords, whose fangs are knives, to devour the poor from off the earth, the needy from among mankind. The leech has two daughters: Give and Give. Three things are never satisfied; four never say: “Enough”.” - Proverbs 30:11-18

Growing up in a catholic orphanage, Matt Murdock learned how to wear his religion on his sleeve. He believed in God; he was taught this undying version of faith that was supposed to sustain his body, and he was told to live by it even long after he was old enough to make his own decisions.

He never questioned it. He went to school, read the Bible up and down and when he was finished, he would start anew. He prayed until his knees were bloody and even then he only got up momentarily to relight the candle, and then he went back to dig his knees into the hard wood of the benches in Clinton Church, and he would pray again. He wasn’t sure what he prayed for if it was guidance or forgiveness, but the nuns at the orphanage told him that praying always served a purpose and that he was to do it as often as he possibly could. 

He spent every breathing hour of his life devoted to God, not expecting anything in return. As a boy, he craved answers, he craved the comfort of someone, anyone, even if it was just a faceless deity in the sky, though as he got older, he realized that some voices just won’t be heard. God can only do so much. There are limits even to his power. To some, he comes, to others, he doesn’t. Some prayers meet deaf ears and no matter how much you pray, it’s never enough. 

Still, he returned to the church he grew up in and he gave his heart to the cause. He prayed, he confessed and every time the world beat him down, he would light a candle at the altar to offer God his sacrifice. 

Matt didn’t fear much. He jumped head-first into danger and returned with his fists bloody. He had seen the bottom of humanity, stared down the endless pit of despair, yet he always came back. There wasn’t much he feared, at least not the things a normal human being should cower from. 

He wasn’t sure what exactly irked him about her though.

About the woman standing at the bar with a glass of Scotch in her hand - the expensive kind, he could smell the stench from miles away. The liquor rested on her lips, overshadowing even her sweet perfume and the scent of the dry cleaner’s sandalwood and rain laundry detergent left in the fibers of her equally as expensive dress. 

What color was it? He wanted to ask. Not that he cared, but the curiosity drew him closer to the stranger. It was a curiosity that came with a heavy feeling in his stomach as if mountains of stones kept him from moving. He was paralyzed. The tiny hairs on his neck stood up, his hand clenched around his cane and he couldn’t help but lick his lips one too many times. 

Cold sweat pooled in his palms. His senses reeled; as they always did at huge gatherings, too overwhelmed with all the new sensations and unable to focus on anything in particular which made him feel even more out of control than he usually did, but the second he caught onto the woman at the bar just standing there in all her confident glory, radiating so many red flags, he lost count, his blood pressure spiked and he went pale.

He had never met her before, but he instantly knew that there was something inherently wrong about her presence. She didn’t fit in.

The invisible hammer hit him suddenly. She was looking at him, he could tell. Her head tilted ever so slightly, eyes narrowing at his sight. If she could tell he was analyzing her or if she merely found him attractive, he couldn’t tell. 

Judging by the way her body language shifted from the elegant, confident woman to an almost dangerously cocky predator, he suspected it was the former. How could she have possibly caught onto that? Were his stiff posture, the position of his head, and his right grip around his cane that obvious? He usually made a habit of hiding his abilities, and he considered himself good at it. She seemed to look right through him though, and it felt humiliating to have her eyes bore right through his soul as if he were an open textbook. 

A hand found its way onto his shoulder. “Matt?” he heard his friend call out for him, but the cotton in his usually so sensitive ears kept the voice distant. 

He was hypnotized by the stranger on the other end of the room. It didn’t seem healthy to be so caught up on someone he had never met and couldn’t even see. Who knew who she was? She smelled of danger and despair, but at the same time, his body jolted with excitement at the prospect of her coming over after realizing he was trying to subtly check her out in his own special way. The rational part of him told him to run while the other urged him forward. He needed to get to know her, he needed to satisfy his curiosity and heal his suspicions. 

Matt wouldn’t give in, no. Dangerous people had their tricks to get people like him to fall for their charms, and she reeked of danger. Even without knowing her, he could tell that she was nowhere near the well-put-together woman she pretended to be around the men yearning for her, trying to buy her drinks and gain her attention by talking smart. She used them, she didn’t care. She thrived off of the attention, which was exactly why she turned to him when she felt his metaphorical eyes on her. 

“Matt!” Foggy’s voice grew louder. He tore the cotton from his ears, redirecting his attention. 

She slipped from his grasp as he turned to his friend, cheeks red and shocked at his inability to control his thoughts for only just a moment. 

His tongue darted out to wet his quivering bottom lip. “Yeah,” he said. “Sorry, I got distracted. What were you saying?”

Distracted was an understatement.

“Henry’s here,” he told him.

“Henry?”

“From college. Henry Verlice.”

He raised his eyebrows behind the red glasses that adorned his face. The light of the chandelier fell on him just right, tinting his pale skin a soft yellow and underlining the dark color of his glasses. He adjusted them on his nose and said, “Henry ‘the Hunk’ Verlice?” 

Foggy clapped. “Exactly!”

“Wow,” he pretended to sound as if he hadn’t heard their old classmate enter the gala about twenty-five minutes ago. “Didn’t he drop out of college in the fourth semester because he knocked up Sarah McKinley, our civil rights professor’s wife?” 

“So they say.” He sipped his drink, a mixture of vodka and cranberry juice, with just a little more of the latter to make up for the bitter alcohol. 

Foggy was an avid beer drinker. He didn’t like Scotch, he preferred Whiskey, but the choices they offered at this particular gala made even Matt’s stomach churn, and he drank cheap German beer for a living. 

He ordered a Macallan, neat. He always did. 

Matt toyed with the ice cubes in his drink. “Why do we care about Henry all of a sudden?” he asked.

“Haven’t you heard? He joined this huge law firm,” said Foggy. “Even bigger than Landman & Zach. They make a shit-ton of money. Now, remember what he said to us? That we were never going to make it?”

“Ah,” he chuckled knowingly, “you’re afraid he might remember us and when he finds out our law firm doesn’t make any money…”

“Imagine the talk, Matt! We just proved everyone who didn’t believe in us back then, right.” 

Matt pointed at his glass. “How much of that have you had?”

“Too much.”

“Okay,” he huffed. “We should be proud of what we do, Foggy. These people…” he motioned to the crowd of lawyers and judges around them, “they are only in it for the money. People like Henry do this job solely because they want to profit from the misery of their clients, possibly make them even more miserable. We don’t do that. We’re better than them. We take care of the little guy, no matter the cost. Why should we feel guilty for making this dream – our dream a reality?” 

Foggy looked at him as if he had just told him he didn’t know what cows were. “Because we’re broke, Matt!” he said. “We don’t have any money to flaunt around as they do.” He hit his drink back. “We don’t belong here.”

“I don’t disagree with anything you’re saying, but may I remind you that this was your idea?” he challenged.

“I didn’t expect us to run into so many of our old acquaintances.”

“What did you expect, a room full of strangers?”

“Would have been nice for a change,” he said. 

“Look, Foggy,” he grabbed his sleeve, “maybe you’re right. Maybe we should just leave.”

Much to his dismay, he shook his head. “We can’t pull out now, Matt. That would be even worse. For our reputation and my ego. Besides,” he said, and his giddy grin returned steadily with each passing second, “Where else would we get an open bar?”

In the distance, Matt heard the doors open again. Heels clacked against the floor. 

“Oh, finally! Marci’s here.” Foggy straightened his bow tie. “How do I look?”

“I don’t know, I can’t see,” he deadpanned back at him.

“Right, my bad,” he said. 

“I’m sure you look great.”

“Thanks, buddy! Appreciate the effort. If you need anything, just call, okay?”

Matt sighed deeply into his Macallan. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” he said. “Go and have sex with your very obnoxious girlfriend in some random bathroom like two randy teenagers.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s what I’d do. We’ve all been there. Now go, before Marci changes her mind and leaves you who earns the amount you have in college debt in just a month.”

Foggy pulled the loose strands of his unruly blond hair behind his ear. “I’m sure you’ll find an eligible partner here somewhere,” he said right before he left. “You always do, blind act and all. Stay strong, buddy. Marry a rich woman. You can do it.”

It was as good of a pep talk that he could come up with in his crush-induced haze. 

It wasn’t often his friend who stepped out early with a girl. Usually, Matt was the one with a woman or a man on his arm and back on the way to his apartment where he would indulge in several hours of great sex — he knew how to pick them and how to please them. Sex became his favorite coping mechanism, his senses finally being able to shut down and allowing him to breathe as he gave himself fully to someone else. His endeavors were entirely physical and they didn’t end in breakfast. 

What Foggy always told him he wanted, he hated most about himself. He enjoyed the meaningless encounters and the benefits that came from them, but it didn’t help with curing the deep loneliness in his chest, as if something or someone was missing.

Once his friend was gone, he became painfully aware of the same Scotch-scented lips he had lingered on only moments before. He couldn’t hear her heartbeat, he only made out the faint scent of her perfume. 

“So you didn’t come here alone,” her voice sounded like what he imagined the sirens of the sea in the several lore books he had read growing up to sound like whenever they sang. His toes curled, a chill ran up and down his spine, and somehow the sweet tone shot straight to his very touch-deprived cock. 

He flinched, turning around on the heel of his shiny dress shoes. 

“I’m sorry, did I startle you?” she asked. “That wasn’t my intention.” The curl of her tongue at the top of her mouth told him that she was lying. 

He started to doubt his hearing abilities. Her heartbeat was so faint, he almost missed it. It was slow, almost like the dying flame on a candle. She breathed in intervals, something he couldn’t possibly consider healthy. The closer she got, the colder her skin felt, and he wasn’t even touching her. His heart rate picked up, his brain secreted cortisol into his bloodstream. Any second now, his fight or flight instinct would kick in. He had a choice, but he couldn’t move. She had him under some kind of spell.

He clenched harder around his cane. “I- I’m sorry,” he breathed. 

She tilted her head. “Sorry for what, exactly? Stalking me or not coming up to talk to me when I caught you?”

Matt chuckled. Not even his mouth was under his control anymore. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t?” she said, eyelashes batting innocently. 

Her finger touched the sleeve of his tux, purposely avoiding his skin. He could feel the low temperature radiating off of her, but somehow he was hotter than ever in the gigantic room. His bow tie seemed to suffocate him, and the buttons of his shirt wound too tightly around his torso. 

“And here I was, thinking you’d be interested in me.”

He swallowed.

“Am I wrong?” The woman stepped closer to him. Nothing else mattered but her scent and the intoxicating feel of her hands touching the fabric of his clothes. He lost control of himself, feeling his grip on reality loosen and slip into the abyss. 

He sucked in a sharp breath when her hand wandered to his neckline. She popped the button on the top. Matt sucked in the welcomed air instantly. He could taste her on his tongue now, sweet and salty and full of liquor. 

“You don’t even know my name,” he said. 

She shrugged, her red-painted lip curled into a smirk. “You don’t know mine either,” she said.

His eyes fluttered shut as her breath fanned over his face. “I believe that could be considered unethical, not knowing someone’s name before making advances.”

She chuckled, one of the softest tunes he had ever heard before. 

“I mean, that’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? You came here to see if you could get me into bed?”

She eyed him up close and personal, her head twitching to the side to take in the sight of his bare neck. His Adam's apple popped as he swallowed the lump threatening to choke him once more. His aorta bulged out of his skin. She watched as his pulse hammered against it even faster at her proximity. 

She licked over her lips. “More or less,” she rasped. 

He leaned back into her. The magnetic pull threatened to snap his neck and send him straight to hell. 

“Why, is that something that you’d want?”

“Is it something that you want?” he retorted. 

The glint in her eyes grew. She shoved the empty glass of Macallan aside, placing hers in his hand. “Have you ever tried Scotch that’s a century old?” 

His eyebrows shot up. The different aspects of her very unique scent were starting to cause a headache. He couldn’t differentiate between who he wanted her to be and who she truly was. 

Realizing he wasn’t quite present, she guided his hand to his mouth. His lips wrapped around the brim of her glass, tasting the slight cherry tint of her lipstick and her saliva mixed with the third portion of the same liquid. 

The Scotch burned down his throat. It was strong, sharp, and tasted musky. He wondered how expensive a bottle of this was, let alone a glass. Her eyes stayed on him the entire time, stronger when he licked his lips and subconsciously inched closer to her. As cold as she was, her body screamed for him to take her. He must have blacked out. This had to be a dream bordering on a nightmare. The mask he put on every time he went out as Matt Murdock was starting to slip into the one he put on at night. The darkness in his mind wasn’t his, it was the devil’s, and the snake that she was, she was compelling him to bite into the apple and give in. 

“Taste good?” she asked. 

Matt swallowed again. “It’s Scotch,” he answered. 

“Aren’t century-old things just beautiful? And they taste and smell absolutely…” she sniffed at the brown liquor, “ah, divine.”

“You have experience with that sort of thing?”

“I have experience with a lot of things.”

She placed the glass back down on the tabletop. Her heel nudged at his calf. He couldn’t move, not sure if it was her or himself this time that had him trapped close to her. He wasn’t lucid, couldn’t be, though at the same time he had never felt more aware of someone.

The world didn’t matter, his senses focused entirely on her, and even then they were lulled by everything that she had and had not. Trying to understand her had his mind in a painful twist, but his nerves didn’t respond to the stimuli. He felt nothing but a strange pull in her direction that made the blood run from his cheeks between his legs, the last place he wanted it to be. 

He buried his teeth in his bottom lip, glad that his glasses hid the inability to keep his eyes open or rolled forward in her presence. He didn’t want to give the stranger the power she wanted. He smelled the danger before, and it became even clearer now, only this time, the fear was replaced with an inappropriate, down-right filthy, and animalistic feeling. 

It had to be her fault he was feeling this way. She was cold, yet his body was on fire. Her heartbeat was faint, almost silent, yet it screamed in his ears. With anyone else, he would have already run, put on his Daredevil suit, and solved this the right way. But no, Matt Murdock couldn’t move a muscle that he wanted, only those he couldn’t control. 

“How much harder do you plan to try to get me to fuck you?” he heard himself breathe out.

He swallowed the grunt in the back of his throat. Her leg was completely between his now. The fabric of her dress shifted, sliding further up her thigh. 

She laughed quietly at his choice of words. “I think you got it all wrong, darling,” she said. “I don’t need anyone to fuck me.”

He huffed, “What do you take me for?”

She shrugged. Her finger switched from his arm to his chest, using her whole hand to feel the abs that were undoubtedly hiding underneath the tight dress shirt. His muscles hardened under her touch, the low temperature even clearer through the thin fabric. The hairs on his body stood up. He shivered, the heat in his veins multiplying with her wandering hands. One grabbed at his bicep, the other continued to explore his torso. 

Her lips tickled at his ear when she whispered to him, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

The worst part was, he didn’t want her to. The gala was crowded, but he couldn’t have cared less. If people wanted to pry, they should. 

She ghosted over his belt. The fog that surrounded him thinned a little, the prospect shooting the first thrill of fear through him ever since she stepped into his personal space. 

Matt almost broke the glass in his hand, a groan passing his lips, as two of her fingers shamelessly stroked over his hardening cock. His hips bucked into her touch before he flinched away, realizing how wrong this was. She was a stranger in the middle of an overcrowded room; she had no business touching him like that. 

He set his mind on telling her to stop, though instead, what came out was, “I’d like to get a name first,” he said. 

That still left the prospect of them going further open, if only he knew who she was. 

Her hand came back up, nail extended to scratch over the scruff on his jawline, following the poorly shaved hairs down to the distracting vein that kept pumping the blood through his body. Not once did her skin touch his, only her nail dug into his throat. He stopped breathing. 

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell. Besides,” she purred, “when I am done with you, you won’t even be able to scream my name. So why bother with theatrics when sounds are already such powerful communicators?”

She looked down between them, his hot crotch close to hers. The blood on her fingertip trickles down into her palm. She considered wiping it on his pants, but that would have been quite a waste. 

“If the next time we see each other I get the same reaction, we are going to have so much fun together.” 

Matt slowly returned to his body. He tasted the copper in the air, his hand reaching up to trace the scratch right over his aorta. He felt the pulsating of his cock, the missing attention leaving him with nothing but blue balls. His heart punched against the inside of his ribcage. The sharp pain in his neck burned through his skin. He hissed, playing with the blood in between his fingers. It was hot and sticky, and the consistency was thin enough to let it travel down with gravity down his heated skin.

He was more focused on the clarity that came back to him than on the sound of the stranger’s heels distancing herself from the table. When he realized she had gone, it was already too late for him to act. Back in control of himself, the shame was greater than the arousal had been. 

The voice in his head chided him for being so foolish, for letting that happen to him. He was no smarter than before. The darkness she brought with her infected him and he had realized too late what it was doing to him and the other side of him, too, that had been sleeping soundly while waiting to be unleashed when it was time. 

He pushed down on the cut again, partly because he felt as if he deserved the torture, but also because that woman left her mark in more ways than one and that was something his mind still couldn’t wrap itself around. 

She sucked her index finger into her mouth, tongue swirling over the small drop of blood she had drawn. Her eyes rolled back into her head. 

Soon enough, she was no longer alone. “Everything okay, boss?” the man to her left asked.

She halted, pointing her finger at the distraught figure at the opposite end of the ballroom. “I want to know who he is,” she said. 

“Know as in-“ he didn’t voice his thoughts, though he made a grabbing motion at his neck. 

“No,” she shook her head, “I just want his name and… well, what else I want from him is none of your business.”

Her bright eyes turned a shade darker. 

“Nevertheless, I’m starving. I think we should abandon this establishment to go somewhere that best fits our needs, don’t you think so, Talon?”

He smirked knowingly. “The others have been asking the same thing,” he said.

“Then you better get them together. We only have a small window of time before what we’re doing arouses the suspicion of certain law enforcement agencies. Or, Lucifer forbid, the Avengers.” She scoffed, “Now that would just be embarrassing.”

Talon held the door open for her. However, she couldn’t possibly leave without throwing another longing glance in the direction of the object of her attraction. 

She licked over the sharp teeth that poked out of her mouth, tasting the remains of his blood all over them. The sensation was stronger, and much more detailed. It wasn’t just copper, it was sweet and heavy, almost like the whipped cream, sauce, and sprinkles on an ice cream sundae. It was the cherry on top, a dream to taste, an orgasm to her tastebuds, and fuel for her never-ending hunger. 

Watching his more-than-human form, she willed the fangs to shrink back to their usual size. There was no time for that, at least not yet, maybe not ever. She wasn’t sure what to do with him just yet. Until she knew how to proceed, he was nothing more than a handsome stranger she met at the bar. 

Matt had folded his cane and bent over the table slightly, trying to catch his breath and figure out what happened. The tissue he held against his throat displayed a small drop of blood that had seeped into it.

She stared at the crimson remains on her fingertip, her smirk only deepening and the darkness in her eyes taking over.

Talon crossed his arms. “Everything okay?” he questioned.

She was tired of being asked the same question over and over again.

“I’m splendid,” she said. “I just realized that I’m not quite ready to leave New York just yet, nor am I satisfied.”

She could have sworn he turned back to her when the big, golden doors started to close around her. He tilted his head, she joined him. 

“Not until I get what I want, at least.”

And what she wanted would no longer be there in a century or two – he would be gone and she would return to a changed city with nothing to go back on. 

That was her curse, after all. The people she cared about slipped through her fingers the same way that the sand slipped through her lifetime's hourglass. But in her case, there was no top or bottom, the clock just kept on ticking and the sand kept on falling. 

Even when everyone else was long gone, she would remain as a stranger on a reformed planet and be forced to look upon the ashes of the life she once led. 

The lives she had lived were somewhere in the hundreds, but only a handful of those had been filled with people she adored, and every time it happened, she had to watch them pass as the sand of passing time swallowed them whole.

Humanity’s hourglass was limited to a minimum and maximum lifespan. She was stranded in a never-ending quicksand. Humans knew that once their clock ran out, their time was over and they could finally rest.

She wished she could do that too. She wished she could stare into the hourglass and watch her time run out, to know she could rest after an eternity of running from everything and everyone. Instead, though, she had to watch as life took everyone she ever cared about, and with every new decade or century or millennia, the cycle would repeat itself the same way it had from the beginning. 

She must have been an awful person in her past life because if God were as merciful as every believer on the planet claimed he was, he wouldn’t have sent her down the spiral in the first place. 

There was a reason people worshipped the devil; he would have thought of many ways to torture a sinner, but cursing them with eternal life he wouldn’t have as he had been condemned too, a long time ago, to be someone he never wanted to be. 

She became something she never wanted to be and never asked to become, and there was no one to blame but the almighty, all-merciful God in heaven and his hopelessly false righteousness, that steals more lives than it saves.

[elgrandeavocados]

dissolution (part 15) | matt murdock x ofc

Story Synopsis: Elizabeth 'El' Herrera and Matt Murdock have been together for four years but have been friends since college. Yet, their relationship is hanging by a thread, and the two are desperate to make it work. 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: Well, hello there. A new chapter of 'Dissolution' is finally here. It's a lengthy one, so grab a snack, some water, and maybe even a blanket to cuddle with because there's some angst in this one. Enjoy! 💗

Read Part 15 of 'Dissolution' HERE.

Excerpt from Part 15

“I like it here.” I placed my hands behind me and leaned back. The rubber ropes from the boxing ring brushed against my head as I slightly tilted it back to look up at the ceiling. “It’s a good place to think.” “That’s why I like it,” Matt said, making me turn my head to look at him. He turned his head and faced me. A small grin crossed his lips. “It’s also a great place to blow some steam,” he said. I groaned. “Like when your lame professor suddenly cancels an exam you studied all night for and changes it to the following week?” Chuckling, he nodded. “Exactly.”

I leaned forward, unzipping my boots and letting them drop to the floor. I stood up, stepped through the ropes, and entered the boxing ring. “I still can’t believe my professor did that. I pulled an all-nighter.” Laughing, Matt turned around. “I know. You called me at one point.” “I had to vent.” “And venting, you did.” I turned around, watching him slip his shoes off. “I never did ask— Did I wake you that night?” Standing up, Matt held onto the ropes. With a small smile and his shoulders lifting in a half-shrug, he said, “Yeah, but it’s fine. I’ll always answer when you call. No matter the time.”

[fluffyprettykitty]

Devil's Own

Pairing: devil! Matt Murdock x angel! reader (no other specifications)

Word Count: 700 words

Outline: A devoted angel knows how to hide from the devil. What about an enamored angel?

Warnings: dark themes, implied manipulation, mild violence & death.

Author’s Note: This was supposed to be my Halloween fic, based on a request I got for this pairing. Sorta Poetic.

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics // banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・Matt Murdock Masterlist

His hands are strong, his grip tight on you, squeezing your bones. 

One crack and you will be gone—his, forever. 

You try to fight the tears that pooled below your eyes. Because you know it would only make him happier. He is sadistic, with his horns shining bright in the dim moonlight. Your white dress is drenched in your blood as he twists your wing in his hands trying to break them. 

“You don’t need them anymore, my love.”

His voice echoes through your head, making you nauseous.

But you know you can feel something else as well.

Darkness loves the light so much that it wants to devour it.

This was never about hatred. This was never about opposite sides. Just a declaration of love however twisted to a virgin’s eyes might look.

A young lover’s song.

Devils love their angels. 

Devils chase the angels.

Devils devour their angels.

Until they capture them forever deep inside the earth.

Caged. 

It would be a nightmare to be someone’s possession forevermore…

Madness. Really.

Living forever in his cage.

You knew that. There’s nothing that you didn’t already know. But now it wouldn’t matter anymore. You didn’t have long left. His fist pushes your wing down and all you can feel is love.

Why?

For centuries you had learned how to hide, how to walk only in the light, obey the sun and run alongside him. You have been hiding from the night, from them, the devil, the thieves with shining smiles, their velvet robes, their strong aroma. 

You tried to stay away. 

At least that’s what you told your elders.

Did you try to stay away?

The clock can’t turn backward.

Did you shield your face from the eyes of the devil?

Or did you cut strands of your hair with golden scissors savaging them through the darkest alleys?

You were a traitor and that you knew.

You were a traitor from the moment your eyes met his. 

And you’d never regret it.

At night he’d whistle and call out for you, calling you his, repeating your name like a chant and a prayer. Creating such soft music, filling your heart with lustful thoughts that occupied your head until you couldn’t tell reality from a daydream anymore.

You wanted to look at him.

To follow his voice, touch his hand, lay on his naked chest.

You longed to become the devil’s own.

But can the devil truly love?

What does the devil know about love?

He just wanted your wings and your light.

You dreamt of his lips on your skin, fire on fire, engulfing you and turning you into his own. In his warm embrace, dress begone, fingers intertwined, his grip on you. Touching your body, caressing your skin.

And that’s where you were now. 

Right under his spell.

You could have sworn you were deep in the woods protected by old magic but somehow he had pulled you out. Dragged out in the streets and now he was holding your wing. 

You had to put on at least a little bit of a show. 

Did you hide? Or did you lift the spell? You were a clever one, weren’t you?

He must have known how easily you would have fallen for him, he would smell the desire on your skin, your lust growing on you.

But you can’t let him have that easy, could you?

You keep your head away from him, don’t want to see him, don’t want to meet his gaze and most importantly you‘d never want him to learn just how much you had been praying to get captured by him. 

One breath.

Two breaths.

The pain is no more. Your wings are laying on the dirt and all you feel is free.

A strange sensation overfills you and the feeling of something soft and velvety is evident on your lips. You open your eyes and see him, the devil himself, kissing your lips, touching your skin with a wondrous delicacy that makes your heart beat again.

Rebirth.

In his arms, you were born again as the devil’s very own. 

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

for updates please follow @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on post notifications!

[cellophaine]

i dont know if you listen to lana del rey but MATT MURDOCK AND SAD GIRL BY LANA DEL REY

i need a fic based on this like i have been listening to it non stop and i cant stop thinking on him so a matt murdock angst fic with fluff with a lil smut?

Sad Girl

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, angst, smut.

Author's Note: This fic is brought to you by delusion and denial. The song has a big influence, but I made a few tweaks. Italics are flashbacks.

To Anon: yes I do listen to Lana! Quite religiously 🫣 If you read through the fic names in my masterlist, you'll see some of Lana's song titles.

Share and feedback are welcomed!

GIF Credit

"Sooo … how's it going with the guy you're seeing?"

Over the rim of your cup, you cast your watchful eyes at your friend as you took a sip of your steamed drink. Mindy's inquisitive gaze bored into you, pawing and prodding at the film of protection you projected on the particular topic. You had expected her to ask about Matt since that was where you left off the last time you saw her three months ago, even though she was your closest friend. The way you left it wasn't positive in your friend's eyes, so this time, she was adamant about the two of you catching up. You couldn't hide from her anymore, even if you tried.

You bit into the side of your cheek before releasing it; your eyes briefly darted away from Mindy's face before answering.

"It's… good."

Mindy arched a brow at your drawn-out 'good', waiting patiently as she expected you to divulge.

"It's really good. Same old, you know?"

She nodded, her eyes slightly narrowed in a way that seldomly meant something good.

"Does that mean you're still stuck in the … grey area?"

You placed your drink down a little harsher than necessary, striking a sharp sound on the delicate saucer.

"I'm not 'stuck'. It's not even a grey area; it's black and white. I chose this."

She had struck a nerve, and you didn't want to admit that to yourself.

"So you chose to be in an ambiguous relationship with a man who doesn't seem to care that much about you? Who only hits you up when he needs someone to warm his bed?"

Your casual, friends-with-benefits relationship with Matt had gone on for well over eight months. At the very beginning, you both agreed on strictly no strings attached. He would come over, you would fuck, and at the end, he would leave. It started out as a once-in-a-while thing, then once a week, and now it had almost become a nightly basis. Your closet stored some of his comfy and formal clothes, your bathroom cabinet held his own hygiene items, and your pantry was stocked with his favourite teas. Matt had slept over so often that you felt like your place was his, too. Even your first aid kit got an upgrade as you equipped it with stuff you wouldn't need yourself so you could be more prepared for any injuries he might have. You knew Matt was Daredevil, knowing the danger he might face every night. It wasn't something he could hide from you. Not for as long as Matt tried to, anyway. After your discovery of Daredevil and Matt's acceptance of the fact that you knew, you started patching him up when his nights got rough, and he began to ask for your help more often. On those nights when his injuries weren't so grave, his fucking would get rougher as the extension of his waning wrath.

"No! You're wrong. It's not like that at all. He cares about me …."

You trailed off when the doubt crept in, making you unsure of yourself. Mindy caught on to your hesitation and gave you a concerned gaze. You couldn't help it, but you wanted to prove your friend wrong. After all, it only happened three weeks ago, and the memory was still fresh in your mind.

Your boss was in a particular mood that day. He scrapped the entirety of your careful research and made you go down the police station all the way in Brooklyn to obtain the paper documents yourself. You barely made it out of work and into a cab before eleven, slouching in the back seat as the toll of the day took over. Your feet ached from the heels, and your body was riddled with tension. You were so exhausted that once you came home, you headed straight for the shower to wash off the grime and sweat; the melody of your wind chime outside on the fire escape didn't even register in your ears. After the much-needed cleanse, you settled on the couch with greasy takeout and put on your show. You didn't even notice how the wind chime had gone quiet, turning into a gentle tune momentarily before three dull knocks on the window pane startled you.

Your attention turned to the window, recognizing the silhouette outside. You only realized then that you had forgotten to take the wind chime in – the form of communication you used to signal that you were waiting for him. The melody had almost become a permanent fixture on your fire escape. You hurried to the window and ushered Matt in.

"Sorry, I totally forgot that you were coming."

You felt guilty of your own forgetfulness for giving him a false signal, but a small part of you didn't. You wanted him to stay, but you couldn't bring yourself to ask him to. It felt like a violation of your agreement. And yet, you desperately did not want to be alone that night. All the turmoil in your head quickly evaporated as Matt closed the distance, discarding his mask before he reached you and pulled you in by your waist. He planted a hungry kiss on your lips, slowly smouldering to a lingering touch. You would be lying if you said his impatience didn't turn you on. You pulled away from him, feeling embarrassed when you remembered the chow mein you had, but Matt didn't seem to mind.

"What was that for?"

Your eyes drank in the messed up hair, the glossy unsighted eyes focused a lower point on your face, and the easy smile tugged at a corner of his plump, just-kissed lips. Everything added to the boyish charm you had come to love.

"It's been a while since I last saw you. I missed you."

His confession and the way he said it with a soft smirk made you melt. Matt wasn't one for sentimental statements, but when he was in the mood for it, he always knew how to make you weak in the knees. No matter how true the admission was, he knew you knew that this was no more than a casual arrangement. Crossing the boundaries was something of a figment.

"It's only been three days."

"I know. And I still missed you all the same."

He stepped even closer, slotting one leg between your open stance before slanting his lips over yours. You couldn't help but lean into the kiss and moan; your body arched into his embrace out of second nature. His soft lips found the pulse on your neck and sucked, marking the smooth skin there as if he deemed that it was missing his mark. His hands started pulling on your clothes, making your mind run wild with the possibilities of the night. But your muscles' cry for rest was louder. For the second time that night, you gingerly pulled away from his warm embrace, and the crestfallen look on his face once you had distanced yourself almost made you regret it.

"Is something wrong?"

He asked gently. None of the whining and all of the genuine concern. You sighed, running your hands over your face.

"It's not you. It's me. I had a pretty … shitty day at work, and I … I don't feel like doing this right now."

You quickly added.

"I hope that's okay."

His immediate response untied the knot in your belly.

"Of course it's okay. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You know that, right?"

You lowered your gaze to the ground; your voice was small and quiet.

"I do, I just don't want to disappoint you, that's all."

Matt placed a hand under your chin, lifting your face so you could look at him.

"You could never disappoint me, no matter what."

You clasped a hand around the wrist that was hovering over your collarbone. With all the courage you could muster, you begrudgingly gave voice to the inescapable outcome of the night.

"Well, I guess I'll… see you later?"

His brows furrowed as if you were speaking a language he didn't know.

"What do you mean? You're not getting rid of me that easily."

In a fell swoop, Matt picked you up. He walked to the couch, gently laid you down on the plush surface and told you to stay still. You watched with wide eyes as he disappeared into your bathroom. You heard the water running, then shutting off, and Matt appeared only to vanish into your bedroom. You peeked over the couch as you heard him rummaging around what sounded like your bedside table, helping himself to its content. Eventually, he left the bedroom with your body oil mist. You braced yourself on your elbows, apprehensive and confused, when Matt asked you to remove your sweats.

"I'm just going to give you a massage. No funny business, I promise."

He urged you to lay back as he carefully folded your clothes and put them on the armchair nearby. He loosened the knots in your muscles, kneading at your sore limbs. His hands worked with so much tenderness and patience, smoothing the oil over your skin, making sure you were relaxed and comfortable. You practically melted into the couch once he was done with you, feeling the tension had long ebbed away.

You sighed happily; the touch of appreciation sweetened your voice.

"Thank you for that."

"You don't have to thank me. I'm here for you."

Matt smiled fondly at you, which deepened the crinkles around his eyes. And then, there was a brief moment of hesitation, as if he didn't know if he should say what he wanted to say.

"Do you want me to leave?"

He finally asked, his voice soft. The question seemed so small, yet, it made your heart soar, sending a familiar serotonin rush through your veins.

"No. Stay with me, please."

Matt slid onto the couch with you, cuddling you from behind. The space was a little cramped, but you were grateful for it for the way his body pressed up against you underneath the cozy blanket. The two of you watched your favourite show together. Still, you didn't pay much attention to it as your mind tried to soak up as much of this feeling as possible until you fell asleep. When you woke the next morning, he wasn't there. Yet, something felt different now that you had a taste of what it was like to be on the other side of the thorned fence.

Despite the "developement", you still felt unsure. And Mindy could tell that.

"If he cared about you like that, why haven't you made it official? Is there something holding you back?"

You bit your lip, your head lowered as you still tether at the edge of acceptance of your situation after an even more recent event.

"Actually, yeah …"

You thought you knew him better than most people did, but maybe, it was you who knew the least of all. You thought about last week when you were tasked with writing a piece on the new up-and-coming law firm in the middle of Hell's Kitchen that took down Wilson Fisk.

It was all a coincidence, but you didn't mind getting to observe Matt on a professional level. The business plate on the wall outside looked new and polished, contrary to the inside. The building was a little dingy but functional. When Foggy Nelson welcomed you into the small office, the sight you saw was all but welcoming. The glass panes did nothing to conceal the view of Matt being awfully cozy with a gorgeous woman, who you knew was Karen Page. She straightened his tie, and Matt was saying something to her, his soft lips close to the crown of her head. Karen laughed at his words, and in return, an easy smile spread across his face. The intimate scene made you feel like you were intruding on the two of them just by looking in. A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down. It was no time for personal feelings and thoughts.

Still, the unpleasant feeling simmered and stayed with you throughout the interview until the very end. When the photographer showed up to take their photos for the newspaper, you bore witness to their intimacy once more. It was obvious to anyone that there was something between them, whether it was in the past or present. The way they held each other before your observant eyes manifested into something tangible that you could touch and couldn't compare. Their bond was something deeper than your relationship. That only aggravated your stubborn jealousy and how ashamed you felt afterward for feeling such fierce possessiveness over someone who wasn't even yours. He never was, never had been, and never would be. What you had was a casual agreement, and that was all to it. But you had to go ahead and fall for him.

The look on Mindy's face after you told her about Matt and Karen was one you knew too well. It was of pity, and you hated being on the receiving end.

"It sounds like he might have something going on with that woman. After all, you didn't agree to be mutually exclusive."

She took hold of your hand, giving it a squeeze as if to soften the blow she was about to deliver.

"I think you should reconsider your relationship. Being the other woman is not worth it, no matter how good in bed he is."

You couldn't stop the frown that formed on your lips, but you could control the trembling that almost broke in your lower lip. You jerked your hand away as if Mindy's touch seared you with shame. Your voice shook as your defensiveness raised itself around you.

"You don't know him like I do, okay? Stay out of it. I don't need your sage advice."

I don't need you to tell me how wrong I am. You wanted to say. You knew that already. Saying that out loud would mean admitting you were wrong about Matt, about the two of you, and about everything.

You grabbed your bag from the chair and walked out of the coffee shop, ignoring Mindy's calls. Your nose felt stung from the unshed tears, from the weight of your friend's words. You knew she only wanted good things for you, but she was wrong. She must be.

Even then, in your heart, you weren't so sure.

That night, you didn't think Matt would come. But you were thankful that he did. The moment you heard his familiar steps on the stairs, making his way up to you, you were already at the window, practically pulling Matt in once he reached you. You didn't even wait until he got even footing on the floor to kiss him senselessly, drawing a surprised gasp from him. He didn't seem to mind and quickly reciprocated. Moments later, your clothes were shed, letting your bare skin and laboured breaths fill the silence. Matt's hands ran all over your curves appreciatively, his lips tangled with yours fervently. He whispered on your lips when you parted to breathe.

"I missed you."

You heard that, Mindy? He said he missed me.

"I missed you too."

Your words drawled into a soft moan as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled slightly. His hand settled on your ass, urging you to jump into his arms like you always would, and you did. The proof of his need for you pressed against your stomach, hard and unyielding. Matt shifted you in his arms, and you used the movement to graze your slick core around his shaft. Your arousal smeared on his length, and you couldn't stop the gasp at the feeling of him so close to your entrance. Matt found your bedroom easily and fell onto the soft sheets with you. You scuttled back to make room, and he followed you. You held yourself up by your elbows; a shiver ran through your body as you watched him stroke his cock a few times before teasing your entrance. His tip touched your wet folds, dragging and spreading the slickness along the slit. He stimulated your clit with his velvet head, and you whimpered at how good it felt. As you parted your lips to tell him to stop teasing you, he plunged in without warning, and the complaint from your throat became a blissed moan.

Matt stopped for a moment after fully sheathed inside you, his face tilted towards yours, allowing you to drink in the pure euphoria on his face. His mouth was open-slacked, his brows curved up in an acute focus of relief, his unsighted eyes lost in the heaven you shared. You rocked your hip to meet his, only to be stopped with his hands on your waist, his hold tight, but not enough to leave bruises.

"If you keep moving like that, I won't last very long."

You nudged your heel against his ass, and your thighs squeezed his hips like an invitation.

"I don't care. I need you. Please."

Something shifted in him when you begged, and your prayer was answered with a withdrawal and hard thrust of his hips. You cried out, letting yourself fall back on the mattress and allowing Matt to pound into you. Each delicious thrust brought you closer to the edge, but you used all of your willpower to hold on. You wanted to finish with him. Matt's body covered yours as he nudged your head to rest on the crook of his arm. He caged you in, encompassing you in a cocoon that was him. His fingers wove into your hair, pulling the strands slightly to draw out your moans. His face hovered over yours, and with the barely-there distance, you felt like you were observing a piece of art reserved for your eyes only. Matt was all-consuming, demanding your attention and submission in every sense possible. All you saw was his beautiful face, all you heard was his lustful cries, and all you felt was his fullness inside you, stealing your breaths. You succumbed to him fully, worshipping him with everything that was attached to your mortal shell.

Your cries of pleasure intertwined with his created a beautiful melody of primal desires. Your hands clawed at his back, without a doubt making marks. Matt only groaned louder at the claim you made on his back, enjoying the pain you inflicted on him. As you neared your end, your core clenched hard, and his thrusts only got rougher at the tell-tale sign of your finish line. You could feel how close he was with the way his pace stuttered. You took hold of his chin, and Matt took a brief moment to kiss your thumb.

"Let go. I've got you."

You whispered breathlessly as his deep strokes made it hard to talk. Matt drew your thumb into his mouth and bit on it, but it did little to muffle his grunts of release. The feeling of him filling you up triggered your own orgasm as you came with him. The white-hot pleasure made you arch your back, making your pebbled nipples graze his broad chest. Matt's hand came down to grope at one breast, massaging and playing with your nipple, making you gasp, moan, and writhe at the sensation. He dipped his head to the hardened peak and soothed its ache with the warmth of his mouth as if to apologize for the lack of attention he paid. When you finally came down from the high, Matt whisked you into a breathless, lingering kiss as if he never wanted it to end. You happily reciprocated, and at that moment, it really felt like he might have feelings for you.

A little while later, after Matt had helped you settle in bed and fetched you some water, he slipped into the spot beside you, nudging your head to rest on his chest. His fingers caressed your arm, raising goosebumps on your skin. You played with the ridges of his abs; your blissful mind ran wild with all the possibilities and hypotheses. You felt something different tonight, just like that night when he cuddled you to sleep.

"Hey, I was wondering …."

He hummed in reply, waiting for you to continue.

"We've been doing this for a while, and I … I wonder if anything has changed."

His hand still kept a steady rhythm on your arm.

"What has changed?"

"Us. Our relationship."

Matt turned his face towards you, and your heart chipped a little at the confusion. He took a moment before answering you.

"We both agreed on being strictly casual. So … no, nothing has changed."

The crack on your heart turned into splinters that kept falling down like a flimsy house of cards, and you weren't fast enough to catch all the pieces. Of course, Mindy was right. You were such a fool. How could you hope for something different after all this time?

"Where was my memo on this thing?"

Matt chuckled softly, seeming to please with the little joke he made. Even though his body was warm, you only felt colder than ever. You slowly removed yourself from him as if Matt had grown thorns, and every movement hurt. Once you left the bed, Matt braced himself on one elbow, an easy, nonchalant, suggestive air about him.

"Are you freshening up for round two?"

You sighed heavily.

"No, I'm tired, and I would like to go to bed."

When Matt didn't say anything, you quickly added.

"Besides, I have to get up early tomorrow."

It was not exactly the truth, but a half-lie would do just fine. It seemed like Matt got the hint as he got up and searched for his scattered clothes on the floor. Once decent, he made his way to you at the window sill; his hand reached out to touch your elbow.

"Are we okay?"

He asked with a touch of hesitation. You huffed an indulgent chuckle.

"Yes. We're okay. I've had a long day, with a lot to think about."

You forced yourself to smile, even though he couldn't see it. It was more for you, so you wouldn't physically surrender to the turmoil inside. Matt kissed your cheek softly, and you did everything not to avoid his affection.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

He left your apartment with the promise, one that you wouldn't blame him for not keeping. You stayed up until the morning, and throughout the day, you allowed everything Mindy said to torment you, driving and twisting the knife further until your heart was a mangled, broken piece of decoration in your chest. And you knew you deserved every single cut. You weren't stupid; you knew that you were in the wrong. You were blinded by the possibility of Matt reciprocating your feelings that you were all too happy to be the other woman despite all the red lights. But the answer he gave you last night was definite. There was no future for the two of you that wouldn't end in a crash and burn.

That night, your fire escape was dead quiet for the first time in months. You were home; Matt could tell by the rhythm of your heart inside your cozy place. No matter how many times he called your name and knocked on your window, you wouldn't welcome him in like you usually would. Matt left the bundle of flowers he brought you at your fire escape that night. They would stay where they were as he felt them wither away every night until they ceased to exist.

*Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!*

[ddejavvu]

sooo mei I was reading through your matt murdock ml and stumbled across the mafia one and pleaseee that is so cute, would you ever expand on that au? like maybe r’s flat is broken into and before she can even go to the cops there’s a bunch of matt’s guys there like don’t worry we’ve got it handled and she’s just ???

mafia!matt is the last thing i thought i'd be writing in the year 2024 but i can work with what you gave me <3

--

You're not sure whether you'd consider yourself lucky for escaping the bank unscathed, or unlucky for having been in the bank during an active shooting in the first place. Either way, the entire ordeal leaves you unsettled for weeks. You're bordering on agoraphobic, but food is a must, so you set out to brave the streets of Hell's Kitchen in search of something quick and dirty.

Upon your return, you know you're unlucky. You'd locked the door when you'd left, but evidently that doesn't stop someone who's desperate enough to break into a place that's barely up to code. You stare into the gaping, dark recess of your burgled apartment, noting that several electronics and appliances are out of place, but none of them appear to be missing. Your television is cracked, but you suppose your computer will be a suitable replacement until you can manage to afford a new screen.

You back away from the door just in case there's still someone inside; you're not stupid enough to investigate for yourself. However, the moment you step back, you ram into someone behind you, and your mottled nerves make you nearly shoot out of your skin.

All you can manage is a muffled, 'mmf!' when a hand clamps itself over your mouth, but the voice accompanying the hand is quick to assure you, "Easy, tuts, we're not gonna make it worse. We're with- uh, the cops. Okay? We got a call from the neighbors, 'said they heard someone breakin' in. We've got it handled, alright? Just relax. You can head back inside, that creep is long gone. We'll have someone stand guard outside, got it?"

You're only let go of when your captor deems you calm, but your heart is still racing in your chest when you turn to face him. He doesn't look anything like a police officer, but he does look menacing. He shows you a badge and I.D, and they look authentic enough for your arrythmia to settle.

"Go on," He ushers you towards the door, "Get in there, we'll take care of it from here."

You adjust your grip on your plastic bag of frozen meals, passing a couple other men that are now posted at the front door of your apartment. Each attempts a kind smile at you, and you're glad to shut the door on them once you get inside.

There's a man on your couch.

You don't notice until you flick the light switch on, but he's sitting there, clad in a suit and sunglasses. You shriek, and briefly consider whether or not your frozen ravioli could be used as a suitable projectile.

"Relax," The man stands, an easy smile on his face, one that drips with sympathy, "I'm Matt. I'm here to stand guard."

"Why were you sitting in the dark?!" You demand, now doubting the validity of the police badge you'd seen earlier, regretting the decision to trust these less-than-official men.

"It doesn't matter to me whether it's light or dark," He chuckles, and your face flushes momentarily when you realize what his sunglasses are for.

"Oh. Well- well you're not doing a very good job of making me relax, Matt. I feel like I'm more in danger of you than I am of someone else breaking into my house."

The man's smile is gentle, but not weak, "Sorry. Just go about your business, okay Y/N? We'll replace your damaged property and be out of your hair as soon as we can eliminate the threat.”

"Eliminate...?" You echo cautiously, "How long does that take?"

"Depends. A day. A week. Months, maybe. But this is all for your precaution, Y/N," He stands, making his way over to you and carefully feeling out the broken glass on the floor with the toe of his shoe. He places a hand on your shoulder, "Just trust me, I'm here to help. None of this will ever happen to you again- not on my watch."

[akariamai]

Chamomile Tea

Part 1

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Black Widow!Reader

Word Count: 1112

Steam seeped from the porcelain cup, filled to the rim with your Chamomile tea, as you waited for your neighbor to arrive. The table you choose was not made out of thoughtlessness. It was deliberate and precise. The chairs near the table held the same preference. You needed to see the exits of the room, the people walking in and out of the coffee shop, and be slightly hidden away from the world. 

The Red Room taught you to be hyper vigilant. To be aware of your surroundings every waking moment of your life. Danger can lurk at every corner of the world. Slowly whisking you away from the little sanity you clasps to.

Last night left you vulnerable. You lost your head for a second, yelling at the woman you’ve all but forgotten. Forgetting the world around you, the man beneath your floor. Facing her was so unexpected and so painful. She was there for a moment and then gone the next. She should’ve never come back to reconcile when there was nothing left to fix. The pieces left were far too small to mend. 

Matt, once she had climbed out of your window, came to comfort you in such a way where you wouldn’t feel unease. He sat closely to you but not so close that his shoulders could touch yours if he wasn’t comfortable. He waited for you to reach out to him. Matt truly was a saint. He was patient with you. He didn’t pressure you to talk unless you felt you could open up to him.

You saw him through one of the semi-dirty windows near the front of the building. He was making his way towards the sliding doors of the coffee shop. Tilting his head before heading towards the line to order. He must’ve smelled your Chamomile tea or the fragrance you generously sprinkle onto your body because once he ordered, he walked straight towards your direction. Although there were other ways where he could’ve found you, his sense of smell only being one of them. He could’ve merely asked the staff once he finished ordering if a person similar to you was waiting in the shop and pointed him in your direction. 

He made his way towards you, careful not to go too fast, without knocking into anything or anyone. His hands made it towards the chair in front of you and asked, “[Reader] is that you?”

Your first natural response is to nod but nodding will do nothing but make him laugh. You reassured, “Yeah, it’s me.” Taking a sip from your tea, the gentle touch of the notes of apple and a mellow sweetness exploded your taste buds with flavor. “What’d you get?” It was a blatant attempt at ignoring the vulnerability you’d shown last night.

“I ordered a cup of coffee and a glazed donut.” He knew not to push where he shouldn’t. He spent months comprehending the slight substantial changes in your body and registering them to how you were feeling. It was quite difficult especially when he couldn’t read you like others. You were a complete mystery and you so readily intrigued him.

There were questions he wished to ask. ‘Who was she?’ ‘How do you feel?’ ‘How can I help you?’ ‘Why do you push me away when you clearly need someone?’ Granted he was not the best for accepting help nor was he the best at keeping his feelings in check. He wanted to do right to the world, bloodying his hands to do it, and keep the people he cherishes safe from harm. Somehow you had wormed your way into his heart and carved a place there for only you to fill.

He’d never tell you this, however, his past relationships had never held on for too long. He’d either lose them due to his extra-curricular activities or in the death of his beloved. Heartbreak always awaited him in the end. It was like he was cursed to walk the path of vigilantism alone.

“She was someone I considered a sister…” You paused, “when I was younger. More naive to the world around me.” She suffered the same fate as you before she left without warning. The hurt did not come from leaving suddenly or being left in the dark but for not sending help for the rest. The inability to begin the complete and utter annihilation of the Red Room. “I was taken to a vile place when I was a child. Too young to remember the face of my mother or share any memories of anything but blood and weapons.”

His heart ached for you and your lost childhood. He could feel the wave of sorrow spilling out of you and you confessed to him snippets of your past. It was more than he had hoped for. 

“One day, she vanished without a word. It was a place where hope could not enter but when word spread of an escape, it rushed in like smoke. That pinch of happiness was all we had. Someone might finally save us but no one ever did and that happiness disappeared like it was never there.”

He could feel tears pooling into your eyes but they refused to fall. He could tell you were holding them in but he stayed quiet. “I’ll never forgive her for not trying. For giving up on us the moment she tasted freedom.”

Matt placed his hand, palming facing the ceiling, waiting for you to choose to take his hand. It was the only way he knew how to comfort you. A gentle smile worked his way onto his lips as he felt your hand inch closer to his. Your hand was rough, the bumps of scars littered all over, and your grip was light. You had suffered all this time and had only now had the time to process such a revelation.

“You don’t have to.” He believed in forgiveness but could not pressure anyone to come to that resolution. It was a path walked alone. The road to be able to forgive is not an easy one. It was taxing and tiresome. Even he, a self-proclaimed man of god, still found it hard to reach the absolution of forgiveness. 

“Thank you.” Your lips whispered into the air almost silent enough for his ears wouldn’t pick it up without his senses. He slightly tightened his grip, letting you know he could be someone you could depend on. That you were not alone in your journey to recovery, whatever form it takes. He wants to stay by your side through it all and maybe even learn more of what remained of your past.

Masterlist

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

Dealer’s choice for the character, but could I please request prompt 21 from “the list”?

i could’ve easily done this for any character but had to stick to my roots so i chose matty baby!!!!

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 ~ 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝 𝙼𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚡 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎) 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟹.𝟺𝚔

𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝟸𝟶𝟶 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔 *𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴* 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝! [ the requested prompt is in red ]

The moment Elektra came back into the picture, you knew it was only a matter of time before things began to go downhill. After all, she was the reason you and Matt didn’t speak for that large chunk of time in college, why should it be any different now?

But the sad part was, your heart and your head went in 2 different directions. Your head was once again filled with doubt, worry, anxiety, and every other negative emotion that you could think of. You were right back to that place where you questioned if Matt loved you like he claimed he did. Your heart, however, tried to give you just a sliver of hope. Back in college, you and Matt were just friends. Now, you’d been together for years. Surely that meant things would be different, or at least that’s what you initially thought anyway.

You’d been the second one to find out he was Daredevil, after Claire who’d saved his life. And that drove you apart for a while, Matt pushed you away because he was so sure that you knowing would only put you in danger. That time apart only lasted a week, and then you stubbornly showed up at Matt’s apartment on the verge of tears, angrier than he’d ever heard you. You walked right past him and went inside, going on a rant about how dare he decide for you, what’s too dangerous. How dare he end your friendship and act like it’s on your behalf, as if he’s doing you a favor?

As he sat there and listened to you pacing back and forth while you went on and on about how you cared about him and you loved him and he shouldn’t get to make that big decision for you, it dawned on him. Yes, he loved you. That much was very clear, and it had been since the day he first heard your voice. But it dawned on him now, he didn’t just love you. He was in love with you. And him pushing you away was also a defense mechanism, because a small part of him was afraid that if he confessed his feelings, you either wouldn’t return them now that you knew his big secret, or you’d say you felt the same way at first but then you’d grow to resent him.

While you were throwing your hands up and saying once again, I’m an adult and I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions— he stood up and pulled you into his arms. You resisted at first, trying to step back as you said that he didn’t get to just hug you and make all the hurt that he caused go away. But he continued to hold you close, and after a moment, your resistance turned into soft cries.

Then, you’d wiped his tears that had fallen. “You have been my best friend for so long. And I love you too much to just let you push me away like this. I know what you do is dangerous, but I’d rather remain in your life and help in any way that I can, instead of letting you push me away and then spending every moment wondering if you’re alright. Don’t make me leave,” you had whispered.

It was then that he placed a hand under your chin, tilting your head up. That night he confessed his true feelings, and the 2 of you stayed up talking until the sun came up. He apologized for all the pain and sadness that he knows he caused you, and he even brought up Elektra. He said that he was stupid for not saying this sooner, but he loved you, as so much more than a friend. And that he needed you more than he wanted to admit.

When he asked if you were sure you wanted to stick around, and that he was worried that he was too much to handle, you just put your hands on either side of his face, standing taller to give him a kiss on the cheek, and said “of course I’m sticking around. I love you. And you take care of everyone else, you save lives, who takes care of you? I’d like to be that person, if you’ll let me”.

From then on, Matt knew he would do whatever it took to keep you in his life. You told him that you needed him just as much as he needed you. When he asked why, your heart broke for him. He genuinely couldn’t understand why someone like you would even glance at someone like him. As the sun began to rise, you sat up and leaned against the headboard on his bed. He laid with his head in your lap, one hand lazily tracing circles on your thighs. You did your best to explain all the reasons you loved him, and why you knew that despite what he thought of himself, he was the very best person that you knew. And there was no one better to love you, he was your person, and it was as simple as that.

Throughout the entire time that you’d been together, things were nearly perfect. The occasional argument about his recklessness when he put on that red suit and went out at night, sure, but it never got too far. Matt knew that deep down, you only argued or got upset because you loved and cared about him. And you knew that Matt was just doing what he thought was right, and he wasn’t doing anything to intentionally harm those he loved.

She was never once brought up, and why would she be? That is to say, Elektra remained out of sight and out of mind, until she was literally back in the picture.

One night after you and Matt returned home from an impromptu date night, you’d walked back into his apartment to find her lounging on one of the chairs in the living room, just casually sipping beer from his fridge like she owned the place.

“The hell are you doing here?” Matt made no effort to hide his anger. Your eyes had widened when you saw who was there, and you knew that Matt would be able to tell who it was, you didn’t have to whisper her name.

“You’ve never been hard to find.”

Oh God you wanted to smack the smirk off of her face. Matt squeezed your hand, noticing you tense up and hearing your heartbeat quicken by just a little bit.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“At least your furnitures improved.”

Your heart sank. Not even 30 seconds of conversation and you already knew she was about to walk down memory lane and speak about their time together. Matt made a show of putting his arm around you and pulling you closer as he placed a kiss on your forehead. He wanted to send a clear message to Elektra.

“I don’t know, I quite liked his futon,” you shrugged, leaning against Matt for (moral and physical) support.

“I did too. We had a lot of fun breaking it in, didn’t we, Matthew?”

You had to hold your breath, and avoided saying what you really wanted to say. “Didn’t Matthew ask you a question? Why the fuck are you here?”

She looked at you, giving that little smirk as she said “would you believe it if I said I missed him?”

“Not even a little,” you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

Next to you, your boyfriend responded to her question too. “No.”

“I’m in New York for a meeting and I thought I would pop by.”

Your first thought, was that she was silently asking to spend the night. Matt came to the same conclusion, and knew what was running through your mind. “Well you’re not staying here.”

“Fine,” she sighed as she stood up, “my penthouse in Midtown will just have to do then. We spent some nights there.”

Unable to take another moment of her presence, you stepped aside, pulling yourself from Matt’s hold. “Alright bitch, if you came here to walk down memory lane, I’d rather not be here for that.”

Matt could hear that you were already holding back tears. Elektra was probably the only person who could make you question things, given that you knew their history and that he ditched you back when she first entered his life. His only goal now, was to get rid of her as fast as possible so that he could make sure you were alright.

Once you had grabbed a change of clothes and slammed the bathroom door, the shower could be heard turning on a moment later. It was then that Elektra began speaking again.

“I spent years trying to convince myself that things happen for a reason. That you and I were not meant to be. But I know now that wasn’t fate. It was a choice. I’m alone in the world Matthew. Do you know what that feels like? Of course you do.”

You’d been standing at the door, your ear pressed against it as you did your best to eavesdrop, to try and hear what she was saying. You trusted Matt, with your life. It was her you didn’t trust. But as she started going on about needing his help getting money back, that was when you decided to just let him handle things. As you tried to wash away the icky feeling you were now left with, your mind couldn’t help but wander. Out in the living room, you were missing the tail end of their conversation.

“You’re the only person I can trust.”

“Oh no, you don’t break into my house and then talk to me about trust.”

“Don’t overthink it. It’s just a bunch of guys in business suits, they won’t know what hit them. It’ll be fun, like old times.”

“Oh you and I, we have very different ideas of fun.”

“You can say whatever you want. But I know you—”

Now he’d had enough. “You don’t. Not anymore. Not ever again.”

“That’s disappointing…”

Matt motioned towards the door. “Just so we’re clear, she,” he pointed towards the bathroom door, “means everything to me. You’re not gonna waltz in here and mess everything up because you’ve decided that you’ve missed me or that you want my help with my fancy degree. You drove us apart once, that’s not happening again. Now get out.”

A few minutes after she left, you exited the bathroom and went straight to the bedroom. Matt knew how upset you were, because you never went to bed without saying goodnight.

He cautiously entered the bedroom, heart feeling like it was going to shatter once again as he heard your near silent cries.

“I’m sorry” you sat up once you felt the weight of him getting in to his side of the bed. “I have no right to be upset, you haven’t done—”

“You have every right to feel upset, I would never blame you. I’m sorry it took me so long to get rid of her.”

The next half an hour was spent with you laying in his arms, as he did his best to reassure you that she meant nothing to him, and that you meant everything to him. He’d even held your face in his hands as he leaned down and whispered “I don’t care about anyone else but you sweetheart. I love you, so much”.

He said he wasn’t going to give her another thought.

Maybe he meant it… at the time. But her words wouldn’t leave his mind. And so he lied, he went to go see her and he asked questions. You don’t even know if he would’ve told you. The only reason you found out he’d just been with her was because the afternoon after his visits to her, you were cuddling on the couch when his phone vibrated a couple of times. Matt was exhausted, and he’d fallen asleep. You yourself were also on the verge of closing your eyes. But you picked it up and glanced at the screen, only so that if it was Foggy or Karen and it had to do with work, you’d be able to wake him up.

Instead, what you saw made you feel like your heart stopped. The number wasn’t in his contacts, but it was very clear who the messages were from.

Thanks for coming by and helping me last night.

And for our little catch up this morning. We make a great team, don’t you think?

You swiftly pulled yourself from Matt’s embrace, ignoring his confused ramblings as he woke up and asked what you were doing. As he trailed after you into the bedroom, and he realized you were packing a bag of your clothes, he began to panic.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on, talk to me—”

“Where were you last night? And this morning?”

His silence was all you needed to hear. As you put a few more pieces of clothing into your bag and zipped it shut, you shoved past him and began to make your way towards the door. Of course he followed after you, gently grabbing you by your left wrist as your right hand unlocked the door.

“How did you—”

“She text you. God, I look like a fucking idiot right now!”

“No you don’t, please just let me—”

You didn’t even care that this was the third time you interrupted him in less than a few minutes. “Explain? You deliberately lying to me and going off to go visit your ex-girlfriend? Please, spare me the sob story Matthew.” His name was said laced with venom, with you mockingly imitating Elektra.

Now he was really desperate. “Please. You have every right to be angry with me. I just need ten minutes to explain. Ten minutes, and then if you still want to leave, I won’t stand in your way.”

You sighed, quickly running through your 2 options in your mind. Part of you still felt like you should leave. The toxic part of your brain was telling you that the only reason Matt wanted to explain, was because he got caught in the lie. But your heart, once again, told you something else. You’ve known and loved Matt for years. Surely, you should at least hear him out?

In the end, you went with your heart. But you were still incredibly hurt, so you simply said “you have five minutes” before dropping your bag and sitting on the couch.

When Matt sat next to you, you made a big deal of getting up and moving from the couch, to the chair just a few feet away. His expression changed into one of sadness, but he knew he had no room to argue or to ask you to move back next to him.

And then he told you. What he did instead of going to work like he said he was going to (though he did try to justify his actions by saying that he really had originally gone in to work, and he eavesdropped on Elektra’s meeting for legal reasons), then how his mind wouldn’t let him rest, so he told you about going to visit her and the conversations that ensued. When he began telling you about all the men they had to fight, and how she readily had his Daredevil suit, you felt like you were on the edge of a cliff the entire time.

“Are you going to help her?” You asked softly, still unable to look at the man who sat across from you. For the second time that day, his silence spoke volumes. As you once again stood up, intending to grab your bag and leave, all you could do was let out a bitter laugh. Unlocking the door, you turned around to say one more thing to Matt before leaving. “She ruined you. She ruined our friendship back in college, but I thought you know what, you’ve changed, you’ve grown, so I let you back into my life. And I fell for you. But the fucking second that she calls, you go running. I was stupid to think that things had changed. You’ve made your choice, I already know you’re going to help her. But I won’t stand by and watch you become the person that I couldn’t recognize. Good luck with whatever she’s managed to rope you into.”

“Please,” Matt was once again begging, just seconds away from getting on his knees. “I know you hate me but if any part of you still loves me or cares about me—”

“If? How dare you question my love for you. I don’t hate you, I never could. But loving you is killing me So as much as I don’t want it to be… this has to be goodbye. You may not remember because you were off doing whatever the fuck with her, but you broke my heart back then, so easily choosing her not just over me, but over your friendship with Foggy too. I worked really hard to pull myself out of that dark place and I cannot go back there again.”

You tried (and failed) to fight back a sob as you reached into your bag, taking the key to Matt’s apartment off of your keychain. When you reached for his hand and placed the key in his palm, closing his fingers around it, you finally allowed yourself to look up at him.

“I hope this is all worth it to you.”

It’s been 3 days since you walked out of Matt’s apartment, and every second somehow manages to seem more miserable than the last. You weren’t picking up Karen and Foggy’s calls, knowing that you’d burst into tears the second you heard their voices. You wondered what Matt told them, if he bothered with the whole truth.

Luckily, your job allowed you to take a few days off. You didn’t go into details, just that something personal had come up and that you needed to step away for a bit.

You knew that that excuse would only buy you a few days at the most, though, and it was only a matter of time before someone on the team would show up at your door demanding to know what was wrong, and depending on who showed up, who they needed to kill.

Being a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent had its perks, one of them being that you were one of the few that worked closely with the Avengers. You were quite good with hand-to-hand combat, and a certain former Black Widow and Winter Soldier both trained you in the ring for the rare occasions where you were needed with the team in the field.

But with the perks, came the negative side. And it wasn’t really a negative, but they were all fiercely protective of you. It was a miracle that you managed to keep Matt’s other identity a secret all this time. You knew that as angry and hurt as you were, you still couldn’t tell them any of what really happened. Digging into Matt’s past and Elektra’s identity would only lead to trouble.

A series of loud, sharp knocks at your door forces you from your thoughts, and causes you to freeze.

You know it’s not Matt. Despite his many calls, voicemails, and texts, he respects you too much to show up at your apartment and force his company on you. You know that he’ll keep trying to contact you, but you’re grateful that he at least respects you that much. Still, though, who the hell would be showing up at your apartment now?

Of the team, it would most likely be Bucky, Sam, or Yelena. But they had spare keys and definitely wouldn’t knock like that.

As you look through the little peephole, you’re filled with a mixture of dread, confusion, and once again… anger.

“What are you doing here? How did you even get my address?”

Elektra walks in to your apartment, and you’re so stunned that once she’s inside, you simply close the door and follow after her as she walks to what she somehow already knows is your bedroom. She lays the long black garment bag on the bed, and opens the large bag that she’d been carrying, pulling out a pair of heels.

“Umm… what the fuck is this?”

She sighs, and turns to face you. “Believe me I know you’ve got no reason to trust me, or even allow me in your apartment right now. But I need your help. Matthew does too.”

what a weird place to end it. i was going to just stop after “i hope this is all worth it to you” buuuut hehehasdlfjasdg;lj looks like you’ll be going with matt to the gala! part 2? possibly if this gets enough love + people are interested! also i had to throw in my avengers babies hehehe (to set something up for if there is a part 2).

200 follower celebration tags: @hatred-love — @glowstick-lesbian — @moonlarking

matt tags: @starry-night-20 — @spectorfilms — @thegreengoop

all character tags: @jaywalkingape

if you’d like to be added to my tag list(s), let me know in a comment, or send something to my ask / messages! you can specify upcoming titles, a character name, or if you’d like to be tagged for every character!

[donottouchredbutton]

this might be the weirdest idea i’ve ever had but hear me out: life is strange au but with college!matt murdock

[sgt-morgan]

Angst related to season 2 with elektra coming back and current gf struggling with insecurities regarding her relationship with Matt

Deserving ❤️‍🩹

Summary: You and Matt are in a situationship, and Elektra seems to spell trouble for your budding romance.

Warnings:AFAB & Female identifying reader, angsty, hurt comfort. I am not super versed in the art of angst, and I don’t know what to tag. If you want a warning here it is.

A/N: I hope this satisfied your ask, I want more of them! I hope this is what you wanted!

Daredevil Masterlist

Jesus sweet Christ. She was back. Long black hair, Hot as the ninth level of hell, knows how to kick ass, clever, rich. Not a lot to compete with there, you supposed, she’s just… hotter? It just… didn’t make sense to you, if Matt had access to all… that. Why in the name of all hell was he choosing to date an obnoxious, mouthy, poor, accident prone lawyer with no notable features to mention. It made exactly no sense. You weren’t that serious you supposed, you sort of dated, three real dates, patching a lot of bruises, snuggles on couches, you supposed that you were considered his girlfriend. Maybe not though, I mean Jesus, she is both named and dressed like a mortal combat character. On a good day all you could compare yourself to was someone from street fighter two. How were you to compete? Someone was clearly winning here, and you didn’t feel like it was you.

They had totally fucked too. The body language, the smiles, the communication? They knew each others bodies. No denying chemistry. You were confused about all your feelings too. Was this jealousy? No, it felt more like… resignation? Like okay, hot boyfriend has a super, SUPER hot ex, there’s very obviously some unrequited feeling, you are a worm and they’re bald eagles. Eagles don’t date worms, they consume them then fly off to their hotter eagle-y girlfriends and sometimes maybe reminisce about how good the worm was, before remembering how much cooler their girlfriend was. God, this sucked. But, then again, you remembered them dating in college, and she made Matt miserable for a time. You remembered stories from college, you remembered how long putting Matt back together took for you and Foggy. You remembered how hard he fought being loved. Remembered his belief that he was a terrible person. Remembered the long road back to happiness. Surely, you thought, surely there was no love lost there. She just needed his help, Daredevil’s help. They didn’t want each other. They were like oil and water. It would be fine. You decided to give Matt the benefit of the doubt.

You two worked and acted as if nothing was wrong. However, while for you it was an act, for Matt, he saw it as a sign that he could lean in on what he was trying to accomplish with Elektra. It was taking its toll, but Matt was yet to notice. It was horrible, you felt miserable, and you had no other choice but to simply wait it out. You knew he would make the right choice eventually, but when?

Sometime in the middle of this you’re approached by Jeri Hogarth. It’s a good offer, smart, pays good, right in your wheelhouse, and with a shining endorsement from Jessica Jones. (Or as shining anything Jessica says can get.) It seems tempting, but you don’t accept. You can’t, not when you Foggy, and Matt have built so much. Then he doesn’t show to court.

“Mathew! You can’t just bail on this case! There’s no way we can do it if you’re not-“

“We’re sorry, you’ve run out of time.”

“Damn it!” You slammed your phone down and continued to pace, waiting for Matt but he never showed. You knew about the Roxxon Gala, but with him putting all of your necks on the line for Frank fucking castle, you expected him to show. Not only that, but he’s bailed on dates, she’s staying in his apartment, she looks at you like you’re garbage and Matt just… lets her. Jeri’s offer weighs. It gets more attractive by the hour.

“I’m here!” He cries, finally bursting through the first set of doors, you usher him in, and witness the whispered argument between him and Foggy and don’t really think much of it. One time mistake, he will do better, besides, we’re saving the world here.

Things keep spiraling though, and you’re having to do friendship triage. You have to take the brunt of his and Foggy’s headbutting. It’s obnoxious, when you built this practice, you did it to make your lives better, not ruin your friendships. It’s weighing on you. Matt can tell, and the guilt he feels is unmatched. He just can’t stop. This feels too big too… important. Then one ninja battle too far puts you over the edge.

“Matt! Are you here? We need your he-“ there she is. In his bed. In your clothing. “Oh.” Your voice comes out strained and small. Matt has never heard it that quiet. That defeated.

“Honey it’s not-“ but he doesn’t get that far. Your whole body just… deflates. He can hear the silent tears, feels the shuddering. You’re done. This was the last straw. He can tangibly feel you slipping through his fingers, hears the shatter of your heart and that’s when he knows he’s been a fool. “Oh. Oh my love.” He coos, reached for you, desperate to put back all that he’s broken, trying to stop the sand spilling out the hour glass. You flinch away. His whole heart shatters. Breaks to a million pieces and falls there at your feet.

“Matt I-“ you shrug, a mirthless laugh shudders through your tears. “I don’t even know what to say here.” He drops his head and nodded, properly scolded.

“No. I- I don’t blame you.” He nods, gesturing towards the bedroom. “She was stabbed, it was poison- I… It’s not about that though. I know.”

“Do you?” You sniffle. “I don’t think you do. Matt I-“ You sighed and gathered your things. “I had to help put you back together with my own two hands Matthew, she ruined you, and you’re letting her do it again. I don’t even recognize you anymore. That’s sad Matt, because I was just starting to love you. I’m… I’m done.”

Then, you were gone. Your letter of resignation was on their desks promptly by 7 am, you accepted the job with Jeri Hogarth, and that was it. Matt fucked it all up. He kept fighting, but there, all day every day was this immense pain. He has lost You. You, the woman who every day smiled at him, and made him a coffee, and joked about his night life, you who never once required him to give up a part of himself to save your friendship, you, who had loved him. Loved him completely. He’d lost it all. Then, he lost some more. Frank castle had disappeared, and they had lost the case. Foggy and Karen left, Elektra died. He was all alone.

Then like the warm sun after a long winter, you came. It was the day of Elektra’s funeral.

“You’ve gotta let ‘em all go Matty. It’s time. I’ve told you, over and over, going have to let go of your emotional ties. You’re weak with them.” Stick shrugged, “without them, you could accomplish so much more.”

Matt chuckled bitterly, “No. You’ve taken too much from me already, but you won’t take my heart. Elektra is dead, we defeated the hand for now, but I never would have even thought it was worth it if it weren’t for them. For Elektra, Karen, Foggy. They are worth it. My love for them is worth it.” He shook his head, and tears welled in his eyes. “Y/N was worth it too, and you took that from me, you and Elektra and your little games. You took it from me, and Y/N may hate me. God! I hope she does hate me! She was the one good thing I had Stick, she put back together all those little shattered bits, and built me back into the man I am today. Then, I repay her with this.” He gestures to Elektra’s grave, to the city at large, to himself. “She was beautiful, and kind, and perfect. She made me happy. She made me want to keep fighting for this stupid city, and now Elektra is dead, you’re still here ruining my life, and Y/N hates me. Even with all that, it was worth it. Because if for one second, she is safer than she was before I made this sacrifice. Then fighting to the death, for this city, for her, is worth it. I love her Stick, that’s the only thing that keeps me going. I love her, and now she’s safe. Safe from the hand, safe from Frank Castle, and she’s safe from me. Knowing that Y/N has a chance to flourish and grow, that’s what makes all this fighting, this pain, the devil. It makes it all worth while. If I give that up, what is it all for?” Then he sat in silence, and stick went away.

At first, sitting there at Elektra’s grave, he thought the smell of your perfume was a hallucination. Another stray temptation, another ghost of a memory come to haunt him. He treasured it though, even the idea of you was a beautiful thing. He embraced the memory, though it was painful. Then he was enveloped on it, the smell surrounded h, then he realized he was no longer alone. He froze. Then his senses started to catch up to his reeling mind. The smell, the faint taste of the sweat of your brow in the breeze, the sound of your breath. You were there. You were there, sitting and staring at Elektra’s grave, holding flowers. Then you reached out a hand, and stroked his cheek. He pushed his face into your palm, starving for your touch. He whimpered, the tears he was holding finally let loose. Then you were speaking.

“I don’t hate you Matt. I couldn’t if I tried.” You sighed and bundled him to you. Placing the flowers on the bench and holding him as he cried. You had heard everything.

“I never got the chance to tell you.” He cried, “you were gone- I let you go. But I never told you.” His sobs wracked his body, and you ached with their severity.

“Tell me what Matty?” You shushed, drying tears and attempting to coax him to an answer.

“I never told you I loved you.” He sighed and clutched your face in his hands. “It’s you, it’s always gonna be you. I love you, I love your humor, your laugh, your smell, the touch of your hands can cure my every wound. It’s always been you. I was just too stupid to see you slipping away. I never wanted to loose you. You’re my everything, I just never said anything because- because you deserve so much better than me. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh Matthew,” you began to cry as well, “My sweet, imbecilic devil man. You always deserved me, every day you throw your life on the line for us, for this city. I always thought you deserved me, and I deserve you. I didn’t see that at first, and I should have fought for it. I left you when you needed me, and I’ll never forgive myself”

“No!” He cried, pressing your foreheads together frantically. “You will never take the blame for this. I was wrong you deserved the best of me, and I didn’t give it. I gave up? I was a fool.”

You laughed and nuzzled your noses closer. “Then let’s call it a draw and say we were both foolish. We can be fools together. We deserve each other.”