#and Matt Murdock??? No one wants to know. seriously it's getting to a point I have experienced since I was a teenager. Thats how I think ab | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

farfromstrange · 11 months

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Hellooo. it's been a while since you posted your stories but im willing to wait! just hope you're doing fine but here's my request, when the reader is Matt's sister and they have an argument one night and she suddenly leaves Matt's apartment, After that, she is taken by human traffickers and gets hurt or something like that (angst pls hehehehe) thank you so much love u. and I hope you're doing well!

Thank you for your request and your kind words, Lovely! This took a while for me to even get to and I am so incredibly sorry for that. This is my first time writing Matt with a Reader that he is not in a romantic relationship with, but I love a good challenge. I hope I got it right the way you imagined it and that I did your idea justice. I'm doing so much better, by the way. I hope you're doing okay and I love you too :)

Brother | Matt Murdock x Sister!Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Sister!Reader

Summary: After a fight with your overprotective brother, you find yourself taken by human traffickers and it is on Matt to save you before something worse can happen to you.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of human trafficking, graphic descriptions of blood, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.7k

A/n: I wasn't sure if this was supposed to be angst with hurt/comfort or without, so I just did it with comfort because I felt like it fit with the direction this story was taking. I hope you like it, nonnie, and I hope the rest of you enjoys it as well. I only have little sisters so I don't really know what it's like to have a brother, but this is fiction and I see Matt as a very protective person, so... enjoy!

Having siblings isn’t easy.

Having an older brother who takes his overprotectiveness as seriously as having a full-time job even less so. It’s not because you had to compete for your parents’ attention as children - Your father passed and you never knew your mother. You grew up in a catholic orphanage and while for some siblings, that might have been the death sentence to their relationship, you and your brother never lost sight of each other. You two are the only family you have left and after suffering the loss of your father, you needed to catch each other. You both felt so alone, your brother more so than you; he’s always been different, which is something that he’s not at fault for, and you’ve been his rock, always being there for him because not many people were able to understand what he went through as a child. It’s a lack of understanding that’s dragged on into his adult years, and while he often told you before that he envies how perceptively “normal” you are, without you, he would have no one. It’s why he is so protective of you, and you get it, you do, but it’s hard and sometimes his behavior can get a bit too overbearing even for your liking - and you can take a lot.

Matt Murdock carries the burden of a dark past and a dark present, a constant reminder of his past that has changed his life forever. At eight years old, he got into an accident that took his eyesight and heightened his other senses to the point it became almost unbearable. And he had never told anyone but you when you were old enough to understand.

You’ve been carrying his secret for as long as you can remember, so when he came to your apartment one night, bloody and bruised and dressed in a black get-up that might as well have been pajamas at that point, you were pissed, of course, but you weren’t surprised. It’s just another secret you have been carrying for him. and perhaps it’s also been for your sake because having to explain to people why your blind brother does rooftop parkour in the middle of the night dressed in a clad black shirt and some jeans is not a discussion you want to have.

That’s why you’ve never considered yourself anything but normal. You are the normal Matt needs, the normal he has needed especially as a young boy, and in return, he’s made sure to protect you from harm every day ever since you were born. It has nothing to do with heightened senses or disability; he loves unconditionally, and he’s so afraid of losing the last family he has left, he does everything in his power to make sure it doesn’t happen.

At first, you didn’t mind, and you guess you still don’t, but it’s only natural to feel like you’re being controlled at times with a brother who perceives everything, hears and smells everything, and senses danger in every corner of life, even if it’s not real. That’s what gets you, that’s what annoys you and that’s essentially what led you into his apartment that night, frustrated beyond compare. You know he’s your brother and you should be thankful for his support, but some lines should not be crossed, not even by family - and he has really knocked it out of the park this time.

“I was trying to protect you,” Matt says and you’ve heard the same excuse so many times before, it makes your blood boil.

“Protect me?” you snap. “By showing up to my date’s workplace in the middle of the night in your silly little Devil suit? Is that what you think protecting someone means? Stalking an innocent guy your sister has been on two dates with and hasn’t even said anything about taking things further than that and putting the fear of God in him?” Your voice is loud and echoes through the apartment. He flinches, the volume hurting his sensitive ears, but you couldn’t care less.

It’s not the first time he has successfully scared a possible suitor away by being his intimidating himself, but he has never done it in his suit before, let alone threatened a man who has done nothing to you with violence. You were merely experimenting with him, going on a few dates after meeting him online, and he had been nothing but nice to you from the moment you first laid eyes on him in person. Last night though, you received a text from him, telling you that he can’t do this anymore and that you’re over, and it didn’t take you all too long to figure out why he doesn’t want to meet with you anymore. He’s scared, rightfully so, and he hasn’t even done anything to prompt any kind of punishment from the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. But the vigilante is your brother and to him, anyone who even dares to touch you is the enemy in person.

You accept his lifestyle, you care and you want him to be safe. You’ve never tried to change or stop him the way other people have, but he has also never done anything this extreme before. You know your anger is justified, but the look in his eyes, the stern expression, and the way he places his hands on his hips as if you’re a condescending child make you feel small for no reason; he is the one who should be ashamed, and you refuse to stay down this time. You’re a grown woman and you can take care of yourself.

Matt raises his eyebrows slightly. “He sounded like bad news,” he says. To him, that is an explanation that suffices. To you, it’s the opposite.

“And how would you know that?”

“The way you talked about him… I did some research and I got a bad feeling, so I paid him a visit. I just wanted to make sure you were in the right hands, and it didn’t feel like you were.”

You let out a low groan, “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!”

“Language,” he retorts.

“No, you listen to me, Matthew! I know you care about me, but that doesn’t mean you get to control every aspect of my life as you please,” you say, and your words hit hard. “I’m your sister, not your property, and I deserve privacy. I deserve to make my own mistakes and date people from the internet however the fuck I please, so no! I’m not caving. You were wrong with what you did and you ruined something that could have been possibly beautiful, and I hate you!”

The last part of your speech is harsh and part of you wants to take it back as soon as you’ve said it, but your vision is blurry red with anger, and taking it back is not something you do, you never have.

Matt swallows and he calls your name softly.

“Dad would turn in his grave if he saw what you’ve become.”

“Hey,” he calls your name again, but the steam coming out of your eyes turns you deaf to his pleas.

You shake your head and grab your back. The adult conversation you planned to have with him went straight out of the window the second you saw the determination in his unfocused eyes, and he’s taken one step too many.

With a loud huff and a promise to kick his ass if he even thinks about contacting you anytime soon, you storm out of his apartment, the door falling shut behind you.

Matt is left behind with an aching hole in his chest. He’s angry, he can’t deny that; your words have cut a little too close to him. You know what buttons to push to elicit a reaction, but this was new, even for you.

You sounded so happy when you told him about this guy you had met online. You went on a few dates and the smile in your voice had been evident as you talked to him on the phone. He told himself he wouldn’t make any hasty decisions, but the more you talked, the more he wondered who this guy was, so he did his research and visited him. He was just trying to be the best brother he could be, and the guy you were talking to seemed a little too perfect. People aren’t perfect. But perhaps he misjudged him.

Ever since he could remember, his sister’s safety has been Matt’s number one priority. Losing his father so soon and being left with his little sister at Saint Agnes, blind and overwhelmed, had been the worst part of his life, but he made it through. He pushed through the pain because of you. Without you, he wouldn’t have survived. He owed you so much and yet he has failed time and time again to properly show you how grateful he is. Instead, he makes the same mistake over and over again, and now it feels as if he has truly lost you.

He wanted to keep you safe, but instead, he pushed you away. He hurt you. He broke your heart in a way not even a guy from the internet could break your heart, and it hurts him to even recall the sound of your voice or the words you threw at his face. You had every right to do it, but it still hurts him just the same because you were right - if Jack were here right now, he would be the last person on Matt’s side.

Having siblings is hard, but being a big brother with trust issues who tends to go overboard to take care of his sister who is more than capable of doing it on her own is even harder. And there is no one to blame but himself.

He calls out your name to his phone several times that night. He listens for you in the bustling core of the city. He searches Hell’s Kitchen from his apartment for your scent and anything familiar, but he receives no answer. You’re gone. You left him. The one thing he once asked you to never do, you’ve done and the realization becomes frighteningly clear; he has probably lost you over something as small as your dating life, and it’s the most stupid thing he has ever done.

You leave his apartment with determined steps, deep down knowing you will come back as soon as you’ve both calmed down. You avoid the subway or calling an Uber, reveling in the feeling of the cool night air on your skin. When you cross a particularly dark corner into an alley to take a shortcut, you can hear Matt’s voice in your head telling you to turn around and take a familiar route, but you’re angry and you want to go home. You need to get out of your head, so you take the road less traveled - In hindsight, you should have listened to Matt’s voice in your head because even though he is infuriating, he is often right, even if he’s just taking the form of your common sense.

The way out of the alley is suddenly blocked by two large men, their shoulders broader than two of your heads next to each other. You grab your bag, reaching for the maze Matt always insists you carry with you. You’re an idiot, you realize; you switched your bag that morning, forgetting to transfer the small bottle from your old to the new one, and your bag is empty when you reach into it.

You try to remember the self-defense techniques from your training at Fogwell’s, but soon enough, there’s an entire crowd of men in that dark alley and you swallow. You should have listened to your brother.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath.

There is no way you are going to make it out of this one.

By lunch the next day, Matt still hasn’t heard from you. He’s pacing his office, he fans out his hearing, he tries to reach you through email, even, but there is no sign of life from your end. The number of times he has texted and demanded that you get back to him, and just let him know you’re okay, is probably in the hundreds. By the time the clock strikes twelve, he grabs his coat and storms out.

Foggy shouts after him, but he doesn’t turn around. He takes the subway to your apartment and knocks. No answer. He climbs over the fire escape onto the roof and tries to get into your apartment that way. You lack security, he knows that. When he reaches your apartment, the place is silent. Except for the steady dripping of the broken faucet, there is nothing that would suggest someone is even living there. You didn’t pack any clothes, your suitcase is still in your closet and the fish you insist on keeping haven’t been fed in a whole day. Considering you came to him straight from work the other night, he makes the connection between you leaving his apartment and never even reaching yours in the first place, and that’s when the panic officially sets in.

With one swift motion of his hand, he wipes your dining table clean. The mail you’ve kept on it falls to the floor and he lets out a frustrated shout. Everything smells like you, but your heartbeat is missing. You’re gone, but you didn’t leave - you’re gone and you haven’t come home, your friends don’t know where you are, and when he calls into your work, they say you haven’t come in all day; you’re gone and it’s then that he knows something is terribly wrong and you are very likely in danger. A danger he has put you in by being the oaf of a brother you often call him. You’re in danger because he chose to interfere with your life once again, acting as if you’re a teenager and not a grown woman, and that made you so angry, you felt the need to leave the safety of his home, and now you’re gone because of that, because of him. He tears at his hair. Damn it, he thinks, and he instantly starts to hate himself again. But is it really again if he’s never stopped hating himself?

He answers Foggy’s call with his chest still heaving and he tells him what happened in one short sentence, and except for your name and that you’ve possibly been kidnapped because of his enemies, there’s not much else he needs to give his friend the day off. He tells him to find you and call as soon as he’s found you and knows you’re okay. Because Foggy cares. Foggy is your friend, too. But Foggy isn’t Matt, and he isn’t made for the fight his friend is about to embark on as soon as the sun starts to set.

Matt sees red. He’s not even sure where to start, he only knows he needs to find you. He needs to make up for what he did because he refuses to lose you. A fight can’t be the last conversation he has ever had with you, and he definitely couldn’t live with himself if the life he leads on the side somehow gets his sister hurt or worse, killed even. He loves you more than life itself and he owes it to you and his father to make sure you make it back safely to him. That’s what he promises all those years ago, and this is anything but your fault.

Twenty-four hours have never felt longer. You wake up with the cold metal of a pair of handcuffs digging into the sensitive skin of your wrists. The pain that spreads through your skull is sharp and you can feel the heat of blood dripping down your scalp.

“What the-” you groan when you lift your head.

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the stench of blood and sweat. When you open your eyes, your vision is blurry. For a second, you wonder where you are, then the realization sinks in; the men in the alley, their disgusting grins, and then the blow to the back of your head that has left you incapacitated for God knows how long.

You struggle against the chains that keep you bound, but the metal is strong. Bruises adorn your body. Your clothes are torn in various places, but you’re still dressed and it seems like no one has touched you, which settles your nerves a bit, but the fear still bubbles up in you and fills the air with the scent of your sweat.

As minutes turn into agonizing hours, your bones start to ache from the position, and you're tired, but sleep is the last thing on your dizzy mind. You have lost all track of space and time, no one has come to see you, you haven't received any water or food and all of your screams for help have met deaf ears or no ears at all. Your voice is sore at this point, and you give up on yelling because it is of no use, and Matt has taught you better.

Your mind races with thoughts of finding an escape, but the truth is, you are not your brother and he once told you never to do anything stupid. You're not as trained as him, you're not a vigilante and you shouldn't even be in this position, but you are, and it sucks. You never thought it possible that you would truly end up in front of the gun at some point, even though Matt has warned you many times before and it's the part of his superhero life that has him worry even more than a normal brother. Perhaps that is why he overreacted, and perhaps you should have thought about it twice before shouting at him and being mean to him, knowing your words will stay with him for a long time; he likes to blame himself and you gave him material for days. Knowing you might die makes you regret your words and the tone of your voice because damn it, you love your brother and you can't bear to leave him alone, let alone leave him with the guilt of your possible death at the hands of people you don't even know or understand why they have taken you in the first place.

The reality of the situation weighs heavily on you. Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Though you bite your cheek, shake your head, and try once again to break free of your chains. If you want to get out alive, crying isn't getting you anywhere, and you wouldn't be a Murdock if you weren't ready to fight for your freedom. You are a tough son of a bitch, but a lot of people underestimate that. If you can be tough now, you're not sure, but you have to try.

Just when you think you can't bear it any longer, the creaky door to your holding place creaks open, revealing the silhouette of a man. It's the same man from the shadow in the abandoned alley Fear clenches at your heart, fear you try your best to swallow as he approaches you with his steel black boots, his footsteps echoing ominously in the room. The man kneels to your height, meeting your sour gaze that you throw him, and his eyes bore into yours, both of them filled with pure malice and mocking curiosity.

“Such a pretty thing,” he coos.

God, you want to bite him, but not in a friendly way.

He smiles, his teeth yellow in the dim lighting of the room - you now suspect it’s an abandoned warehouse at the docks, hearing the soft waves of the Hudson outside through the door he just came in through. Men, a young woman, and a warehouse at the docks can only mean one thing, and it makes you shiver.

“You know how much money I would get for a pretty face and body like yours?” he asks, and his laugh at your shocked expression sends even more shivers down your spine. He grabs your chin and you hiss like a snake, trying to bite his finger off, but he is strong and he’s more amused than scared. “Feisty, I like it. Tell me, has Daredevil taught you that?”

The name catches the breath in your throat.

“You’re mixed up with him, aren’t you? That’s why he cares so much?”

How he knows, you’re not sure. Your smart remark gets lost in translation when he grips your face tighter and seethes, “Answer me!”

You hate this man with a passion.

“Fuck you!” you spit back.

His palm lands flat across your cheeks and you flinch. “Let’s try this again. I know you know Daredevil. Now, the how is not important here,” he says. “What's important is that you tell me the truth or this thing gets real ugly real fast and you're gonna be on a ship to Russia in the next thirty minutes. I suggest you don't waste my time. Tell me, sweetie, how well do you know him?"

You stay silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. You can't sell out your brother, even if it would save your life and a journey to Russia to be sold into sex slavery, most likely. Telling them about Matt would blow your cover, too, and that would cause even more problems. Besides, you hate this man and you are not going to play his games, no matter how scared you are. Still, his words hit a nerve. A big one.

"I don't know him," you say. "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you." You’re surprised your voice sounds as steady as it does, but you’re glad because it shows you’re not scared, making you a worthy opponent and stalling, which is exactly what you need.

You have never been as religious as Matt, but this time, you pray to the God you were taught to believe in that he will let the devil out to find you, and that soon.

The man’s breath reeks of cigarettes and whiskey when he leans down. "Oh, I think you will," he slaps you again, "You see, we have ways of making people talk. And trust me, sweetheart, you won't enjoy it."

The palm of his hand soon turns into his fist. You whimper but stay quiet. Your defiance earns you a kick with his steel boot right to your ribs, and you momentarily lose focus and ear, and you can feel consciousness slipping from you as something seems to burst inside of you. Blood trickles from your split lip as your vision turns into a stormy ocean and a dull throbbing echoes through your head. With each question that goes unanswered, another body part becomes the target of his torment. Your bones ache, your throat hurts and the blood covers half of your face now. He's broken your nose in several places, that much you know, and you're sure he's managed to break your little finger. Your ribs are bruised if not fractured, too, and something inside of you is screaming as it burns through your organs. You're sure there is blood in your stomach. Even through all of it though, you stay quiet. You don't answer, you simply endure.

“Is that really how much you care about him?” the man pants, his fist raining down on you once more. “That you’d die for him?”

Your eye is swollen and tears gather in both of them as you look up at him. You hold his gaze, the blood from your mouth landing in a pool of spit at his feet.

“I’m far from dead,” you croak out.

His fist lands on your temple this time. The liquid multiplies. Hot blood trickles down your face and your neck, painting a gruesome picture on the floor below you. You can barely see with the broken flesh of your face, barely move with your broken bones, and your muscles ache from trying not to fall over. You can’t pass out.

You remember the one time as a child when you accidentally knocked your head after falling off of your bike and Matt was there, telling you to focus on your surroundings so you won’t lose consciousness. You do so. You refuse to let the man win, you refuse to let them take you. You need to win.

With each hit, it gets harder to stay awake. You force yourself to count the dirt on the walls, but as your eyes start swelling shut completely, the first tears start to fall. You are so tired, you can see the light behind your eyelids. You can see your dad and the faint silhouette of your grandma. You’ve missed them. They tell you to fight, but at the same time, their arms are wide open and telling you it’s okay, you won’t be alone. You can’t fight forever, and in some wars, you just can’t win. At least if you die before they can ship you off, you won’t end up in Russia and they will never find Matt.

Just as despair is starting to consume you completely and you are more than ready to give up, there is a clanging sound at the other end of the room, metal on metal. Something hard hits the floor, followed by a series of grunts that travel from the docks into the warehouse. The man's grip on you vanishes, replaced by the sound of more bodies hitting the floor, hard. You blink through the haze, suddenly wide awake again, your eyes widening as you recognize the shadow in the distance. Your fear of death subsides, replaced by the dull feeling of relief as salvation stands before you.

“Oh, thank God,” you say.

He rushes to your side, calling your name in a hushed yet hurried tone. He's worried sick, you can tell. He can smell the blood and hear your erratic heartbeat. Your breathing is labored as the broken rib digs into your flesh, and you're sure your lung is about to collapse with all the fluid inside, but you don't care. He's here. He's found you.

"Matt?" you ask as if you can't believe it when he touches you. The lower part of his face turns into a smile, but something wet trickles down the inside of his mask and onto his lip. A tear. His tongue darts out and he licks it away, trying to hide the fact that he is both dying inside and relieved to have found you.

His touch is gentle as he carefully frees you from the handcuffs with a simple tug at the metal. He catches you when you lose balance, wrapping his arms around you. “I’ve got you,” he says, his voice almost as hoarse and broken as yours.

He has found you, but the state you’re in breaks his heart.

“You’re safe now. I’m here.”

Feeling his arms around you instead of the hands that were set out to hurt you before breaks the dam you've been holding up all this time. The tears start streaming down your battered face as you cling to him. Your strength descends into vulnerability.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you sob into his shoulder. “I was so scared. They wanted to get to you and I refused to tell them, but I was so close… Oh, God, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He holds you even tighter, feeling your skin for the injuries that lie beneath. “Shh, don’t apologize,” he says. “You didn’t do anything wrong. This is my fault, not yours.”

You shudder.

Matt holds you tighter, his voice choked with his own tears. "I'm so sorry. I should have protected you better. I shouldn't have invaded your privacy and I shouldn't have let you leave. If I hadn't... You mean everything to me. I'm so sorry."

“No,” you whimper, “don’t say that. It’s okay.”

“It’s not. You’re hurt. Jesus-” He can feel your broken ribs, the shifting of your nose, and smell the copper of your blood.

“Language.”

For a moment, he chokes on his tears and chuckles before holding you close again. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me, Matty.”

“Never.” He moves so he can hold your face in his hands, pressing your forehead together. “You’re my sister,” he says, “and I’m always going to protect you with my life. I promise you, I won’t ever let this happen to you again.”

You nod weakly.

“Over my dead body,” he says.

“Please don’t say that,” another fresh wave of tears escaped your eyes.

He wipes your bloody cheeks. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

You shake your head as you respond, “It’s okay.”

“It’s only okay when you’re okay, and you’re not.”

You feel so fragile in his arms, he cradles you like broken glass to his chest. "We're getting you out of here," Matt says softly, "I won't let them hurt you anymore. Just hold on a little longer. We'll get you out and then I'll get you to the hospital, I promise."

You nod weakly. He carefully lifts you into his arms, mindful of your injuries, and begins to navigate through the warehouse, relying on his instincts entirely.

A few hours later, you find yourself draped in an uncomfortable hospital gown and forced to stay the night. Matt is often reckless with his own injuries, but for you, he would even threaten the safety of his identity. He got Claire to catch you in front of Metro General, and she was more than nice to you. Now though, you're alone in the poorly decorated hospital room, and the loneliness creeps up your spine like a parasite. You curl into a ball and stare at the door, waiting until the clock strikes a full hour for the person you need the most to strut through the door.

He is right on time. Matt made a promise and he's made sure to keep it. There he stands in clothes that nowhere near resemble the suit he left at home. It's just him in his red glasses, but the poor yellow lighting casts a sad glow onto his face.

His steps are heavy, burdened by the weight of his perceived failures. As he enters the room, he removes his glasses, and the gates open wide. You extend a trembling hand toward him. "Matthew," you say softly, "Come here." His sobs are silent, but they shatter your already bruised heart. He takes your hand and you pull him close and to your side. "I know you think you're a bad person, but that's not true," you tell him, trying your best to keep your tears at bay, but seeing him so broken makes it an impossible task. "You're my brother, and I love you more than anything."

The pain in your voice stirs something within him.

"This is not your fault, okay? Listen to me! When I said Dad would turn in his grave," you continue, your voice barely above a whisper and it cracks straight through when he whimpers behind his closed lips, "I didn't mean it. He would be so proud of you," you say. "I get it now, why you did what you did. I'm so sorry... you're not a bad person, you're my hero."

Tears still streaming down his face, Matt climbs into the hospital bed beside you. Back at the orphanage, he would do it every time you were sick. He would find his way into your room and climb into your bed, holding you close, sometimes even receiving the same stories your father would tell; they weren't all that creative, but they were the memories of your childhood that have stuck with you. Matt cradles you gently, seeking comfort in the familiar embrace, and you do the same. Your tears mingle with his as you hold each other, crying silently in each other's arms, both because guilt is a treacherously heavy feeling and because you have never been more relieved to find yourself in a hospital bed than you are at that moment. It means you're safe, and safe is what you want to be.

You sniffle eventually and squeeze his hand. "I love you," you say, and then add, a bit more sheepishly, "Bro."

Matt finds a low laugh deep in his chest and lets it out. "I love you too, sis," he says, and he mimics the tone of your voice.

As your tears begin to subside, you find solace in the warmth of Matt's embrace. The hospital room, with its sterile walls and fluorescent lighting, fades into the background as you focus on your brother's heartbeat beneath your ear.

Time stands still, and the weight of the world seems to lift ever so slightly. Just for a moment, but a moment is enough for you to finally breathe. You take a second and just breathe, just for a moment. You need it.

Eventually, you both find the strength to pull away slightly, though your hands remain intertwined. Matt makes sure you are comfortable, tucks you in, and kisses your forehead. It's your childhood all over again, but it's the kind of nostalgia you need to stay alive, stay sane, and push through the hell you've endured. Matt's red-rimmed eyes meet yours. "We're going to get through this," he says, "Together." It's the same thing he has said many times before, and somehow he has always managed to be right, so you don't doubt for a second that you can believe him.

You nod. "Together," you agree.

The hospital room may be devoid of comfort and familiarity, but it's better than the warehouse Matt rescued you from. Lying side by side, you find solace in the presence of your brother, your hero. He has always been your hero, sometimes you simply forget.

With a final squeeze of your hand, Matt whispers, "Rest now. You have a lot of healing to do."

But it's not just you, it is both of you. Together, as you said. The sounds of the hospital start fading into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of your breathing and you slowly but finally find yourself drifting into the abyss of sleep.

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bellaxgiornata · 11 months

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Falling For the Devil [Part forty-one: "The First Half of the Trip"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Matt begin the first half of your Christmas road trip towards Chicago.

Both of you try to stay entertained in a car for six hours.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 2.5k

a/n: A fun, fluffy piece that covers the first half of Matt and Reader's Christmas roadtrip! The next piece is a smupdate featuring some angry hotel sex. You can find all the installments for this series on tumblr here, and if you're enjoying it, let me know!

Two and A Half Hours Into the Drive

Looking over your shoulder and changing lanes, you laughed lightly at Matt beside you. “That is literally the weirdest road trip snack I’ve ever seen by far,” you teased him.

“What?” Matt asked, his mouth full of banana as he shrugged. “You have a problem with fruit?”

“No,” you countered, shaking your head. “But I’ve never known anyone to pack apples and bananas to eat on a road trip. It’s like the perfect time to binge on junk food–we’re stuck in a car after all.”

“Well fruit is better than the processed cheese crackers you like so much,” he teased back.

Glancing over your shoulder at him, you saw him raise the banana to his mouth and take another massive bite of it. You couldn’t fight the grin that spread on your face when he smiled back at you. His cheeks were stuffed with banana and he looked like an adorable chipmunk as he smiled. Your attention returned to the road, your music lightly playing over the stereo.

“First off, Cheez Its are amazing," you told him. "They're the best road trip snack. But you make a fair point,” you conceded. “I know you’re not a fan of processed foods, but that’s why I made that trail mix. Unsalted nuts and plain dried fruit with no added sugar. I even threw in some fancy dark chocolate. There's nothing overly processed in it.”

Matt’s hand reached across the center console between the two of you, his warm palm landing on your upper thigh. He squeezed your leg lightly and your heart fluttered in your chest at his touch.

“And I appreciate that more than you know," he replied. "That trail mix is honestly addicting. You’re going to have to make more of that for me when we get back.”

“You enjoy it that much?” you asked him curiously.

“I will do anything you ask if you make a big batch of it for me,” he stated seriously.

“Oh?” you asked, raising a brow.

He chuckled, shaking his head as his hand removed itself from your thigh. “You’re thinking about the black suit again?” he asked. “Aren’t you?”

Flushing, you shrugged a shoulder. “I mean, I am now,” you admitted sheepishly.

“Sweetheart,” Matt began, readjusting himself in his seat, “I will fuck you in the black suit if it gets me more of that trail mix. Granted, I’d do it even without the added incentive.” He shot you a sinful smirk that had you squirming in your own seat. “The way your body gets all worked up over it is definitely something, and I quite enjoy it,” he said, his tone lowering.

Swallowing hard, you shyly admitted, “There was something I wanted to do if you ever wore it again.”

Immediately Matt shifted in his seat, facing as fully towards you as he could with the seatbelt restricting him. Your left elbow was resting on the armrest of the door beside you, your thumbnail quickly slipping between your teeth. You chewed it nervously as Matt’s sightless gaze lingered on you.

“And does that something,” he asked slowly, his eyes scanning you carefully, “have anything to do with whatever is hiding in your suitcase that had you so flustered last night?”

Eyes widening, your teeth gnawed your thumbnail even quicker. You had hoped Matt had forgotten about that, even though you knew he wouldn’t have. Thinking about how Matt might react to the lingerie you had hidden in there, along with the fact that you’d packed the gifts from the Secret Santa game, your heart raced a little in your chest. Out of your peripheral, Matt’s head snapped down towards your chest.

“Is there a podcast you want to listen to?” you asked quickly, changing the subject. “Or a certain album? We’ve been listening to my music for a bit now.”

Matt settled back into his seat beside you, your pulse slowing down a little with his attention off of you.

“No,” he answered lightly. “I don’t mind this music, it’s relaxing. But don’t worry, sweetheart, I can spot a diversion when I hear one. But I do intend to find out what’s in your suitcase before we get back to Hell’s Kitchen.”

Once again you shifted awkwardly in your seat, cheeks flushing. The sound of your music settled over the pair of you as you fell silent.

Four Hours into the Drive

“How do you manage to burn ready-to-bake cookies?” you asked Matt in shock, laughter bubbling out of you. “They’re basically already made! They give you the instructions right there on the package!”

Matt was laughing hard beside you, shaking his head. “My dad was the worst baker. And I was five , sweetheart,” he laughed out. “He just really wanted me to leave cookies out for Santa. Though really I think he just wanted to eat them himself." Matt chuckled lightly as he added, "But we burnt those to a damn crisp.”

You wiped a hand across your eyes, drying the couple of tears that had fallen during your laughter. The windshield wipers of the rental were on, snow gently falling down as you continued to drive along the interstate. It was near two-thirty in the afternoon now and you were both quite far from New York and getting closer to where you'd be stopping in Ohio for the night.

“He never tried to make them again with me,” Matt finished. “Instead we left out–” he paused, cracking up, “–a bowl of chicken noodle soup for Santa.”

“ What ?” you asked, immediately falling into another fit of hysterics.

Matt fell back into another round of laughter beside you. He was nodding his head as he recalled the memory. “Yes, that was what I picked out from our pantry. I thought Santa might’ve wanted something to warm him up. Figured he hadn’t had dinner yet, either. Just tons of cookies and milk.”

You shot Matt a look over your shoulder. “Aww, that’s so sweet. Little Matty looking out for Santa,” you half-teased, half-cooed.

“Don’t make me bring up your suitcase again,” Matt shot back, a dangerous smile on his face.

“Okay, okay,” you said quickly, dropping the tone. “So how did you usually spend Christmas mornings when it was the two of you?”

He exhaled a long sigh, the smile dulling to something soft on his face when you glanced over at him. His expression had you smiling lightly and wondering what his father would have been like to meet. He sounded like an amazing father with the way Matt spoke about him–always with a sort of gentle reverence–whenever he did talk about his dad with you.

“Usually I woke up before the sun,” Matt finally said, voice quiet. “I’d wake him up. Jump on the bed, drag him out of the sheets. Beg him to let me open presents before he’d even had a cup of his morning coffee.”

“And did he let you?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he answered softly. “Yeah, he did. Every year.” He paused for a long moment before he added, "And we always had blueberry pancakes on Christmas mornings. They were always his favorite and it eventually became mine, but I…usually never got those at St. Agnes."

A heavy weight felt like it hung in the air at Matt's words. You chanced a look at him beside you and he appeared lost in his thoughts. Chewing the inside of your cheek, your right hand shifted over on the center console, grabbing Matt’s hand that had been resting beside yours. Immediately his fingers curled back around your own. Clearing his throat, he glanced over at you.

“How’d your Christmas mornings often go?” he asked.

You smiled, remembering many different memories as your eyes remained on the road. Beside you, Matt was watching you with a curious smile.

"I was usually the last of my siblings to wake up," you told him. "Which meant they were always dicks when they woke me." You laughed lightly, recalling a particular memory as Matt chuckled. "One year, Nate and Amber actually dumped me out of my bed. Just the two of them picking up one side of my mattress," you explained, "and then just rolling me right onto the hardwood floor." Your brows furrowed as you added, "I think that was the year I actually had a bloody nose before we opened presents. Because I fell on it." Matt laughed as a grin formed on your face. "My mom was so pissed at them. So of course they did it again next year. But they were smarter–" you said, fighting down a laugh of your own, "–they put some pillows on the floor for me to land on that time. So our mom wouldn’t find out."

Matt was laughing behind his hand, and the sight of him so happy in comparison to how he’d looked on the flight you'd both taken for Thanksgiving was easily worth the soreness in your ass a hundred times over.

"Okay, so I have to ask since we're on the topic of Christmas," you began, Matt's laughter dying down beside you. "Eggnog–yay or nay with the fancy Devil senses?"

Instantly he made a face, his nose scrunching up as he shook his head. "Absolutely nay. It's disgusting," he told you.

"But hot chocolate is a yay?" you asked curiously.

"The way you make it, yes," he answered, a charming smile slipping onto his face and lighting up his eyes. "Even more so if I get to taste it on your lips. Though,” he continued, his tone turning into something sultry that rose the hair along your arms, “I quite enjoy tasting other things..."

You cleared your throat, focusing back on the road and not the handsome man beside you. "I'm trying to drive here, Matt," you murmured. "You should–should probably not try to distract the driver lest I crash the car."

"Well the driver is quite distracting," he said, his gaze falling away from you.

You tried to take a deep breath, focusing on the road before you. If you let yourself think too hard about his charming presence and what it did to you, you'd be needing to pull over and have him on the side of the road. And that was an unnecessary detour you both didn’t need.

"Being trapped in a car with you when I need to focus is going to be difficult, isn't it?" you mumbled.

"Trust me," he said beside you, "I know. Your scent is everywhere. Kind of hard to ignore."

"Sorry…"

Five and A Half Hours Into the Drive

“Fortunately there are other ways to get to Illinois from New York than by plane,” you said.

Thankfully the flurry of snow had come to an end about a half an hour ago. You were glad the weather wasn't as bad as it definitely could have been for this drive. You didn't feel like driving through a blizzard.

“Unfortunately the only other option is a more than twelve hour drive,” Matt added.

"Well…" you continued, thinking for a moment, "fortunately I have a driver's license."

"Unfortunately your co-passenger is blind and can't help you drive," Matt countered quickly.

"Fortunately I just grabbed that coffee when I got gas," you answered.

"Unfortunately that coffee might give you gas," he replied, amused.

Your head snapped in his direction, jaw hanging open as your eyes widened. He was shaking with laughter as your cheeks burned.

" Matt !" you shrieked.

"I'm only kidding, sweetheart," he managed out between laughs. "You wanted to play that game."

You waved a firm hand between the pair of you, shaking your head. "Okay, no more fortunately/unfortunately for you, Murdock," you stated. "You have officially ruined that game."

"Alright, alright," he replied, grinning. "I'm sorry. But I was only kidding. Though–” he said, fighting down a laugh, “–everybody has gas, sweetheart."

You ran your hand along your forehead, wishing you weren't driving right now so you could bury your face in your hands. Or bolt. You didn't want to talk about passing gas with Matt–especially since he had heightened senses.

"And this is the part where I change the topic before I push you too far past your comfort zone," Matt pointed out. "So…how much longer until we get to the hotel? I still don't have a functioning watch so I can’t tell."

"About forty more minutes or so," you answered. "Why, did all that talk about gas make you need a bathroom stop?" you teased.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, but I uh, I can hear how tired your body is getting. From all the driving. Was wondering when you'd get a break," he answered.

"Oh," you said softly. "Honestly, I’m fine. I think the way I broke up the drive was pretty decent, considering. But I’m curious, is this more preferable to flying then?" you asked him. "Because you seem to be having a significantly better time, but I can’t tell if you’re somehow just really good at pretending since we’re not in a plane."

“Vastly more preferable,” he answered. “The car isn’t remotely as loud as the plane and neither is the traffic. I’m mainly able to just focus on the both of us, not all the people they had jammed into a plane with all their scents and perfumes and detergent clouding the air." He paused, his attention shifting downwards to his lap. "It’s mainly just your scent and mine, sort of mixed together over the faint scent of the rental car and I…kind of like it, actually."

Your stomach practically somersaulted inside of you at that information. "So the hotel we are stopping at I already booked ahead of time," you told him, changing the subject before your mind started going down those thoughts again. "I researched it and checked out all the reviews so hopefully you won't have a hard time there. Figured we can grab food nearby first for dinner before checking in. And maybe just relax for a bit before we sleep, unless there's something you want to do?" you asked, glancing over at Matt.

He was smiling back at you, shaking his head. "That sounds great, sweetheart. It'll just be nice for both of us to stop sitting in here," he answered. "If my legs are cramping up then I'm sure yours must be, too."

"Yeah," you agreed easily, "I could do with getting out of here for longer than the few minutes it takes to get gas or take bathroom breaks."

Matt snickered beside you and you shot him a curious look. He was fighting back a laugh, shoulders shaking.

"What?" you asked him.

"Just resisting the urge to make a joke about gas again," he answered, shoulders shaking.

“Matt,” you whined.

“I said I was resisting the urge to!” he countered, grinning.

You ran a hand over your forehead again. "I am so glad I'm almost done driving for the day just in time for you to revert back to making fart jokes," you muttered. "You really do need to get out of this car."

In the seat beside you, Matt burst into a laugh that filled the car with the warmth of the sound. You rolled your eyes, grinning.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem reader #matt murdock series #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil x female reader #daredevil x reader #fftd

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ellephlox · 2 years

Text

Mimicry

Summary: You, Matt, Foggy, and Karen play Description Charades. The evening gets competitive, especially when you have to act out a certain someone of Hell’s Kitchen. Read the story on AO3 here.

Set sometime in S2 so Karen’s the only one out of the loop about Matt.

Warnings: Some profanity, a little suggestive dom/sub conversation at the end.

A/N: Fun fact!! So I’m starting an internship in a couple weeks, and I just realized that the company is literally in Hell’s Kitchen. I’ll be working remotely so unfortunately I won’t be able to go there, but I thought it was highly amusing that of all the places in the world to have landed a job, it’s in Matt’s city. I mean seriously — what are the odds of that??

Also - just learning how tumblr works but submit requests if you want!! I’m fairly sure I set it up so that people can submit things, and I need to know if it’s working lol

Description Charades, Foggy called it. According to him, he and Matt had first played it during one very drunken night after their first year final exams back at Columbia.

“It’s an art,” Foggy insisted. “It’s all about the control of vocabulary. Anyone can be a good actor, but it takes delicate skill and thoughtful articulation to actually win. And I should know because I have the credentials.”

“Credentials?” you asked.

“Matt and I have crushed every single team we’ve ever played,” he said proudly. “We’re a powerhouse.”

Matt was smiling widely. He wore a simple gray tee shirt and sweats, and was stretched out on his armchair. “Foggy, we’ve only played Description Charades twice.”

“Yeah. And might I remind you that we won both times by quite a bit?”

“Wait,” Karen said. “Explain it again. So there’s two teams—”

“Right. So, for example, Matt and I are a team. He goes around the corner and only I can see him doing his charade thing. He acts it out, and I describe it to you. If you two can guess it within a minute, Matt and I get a point. Then we switch.”

“What’s stopping you two from acting and describing poorly so we can’t guess it?”

“Honor system,” Foggy declared.

“Alright, then.” You stood up. “Karen, you think it’s time we desecrate their perfect record?”

“I’m already searching for charade prompts online,” she said. “Oh — and I just got a notification that the pizza’s here. I’ll go pick it up.” She left the room, slipping her shoes on and exiting the apartment. You turned to Matt, who was sitting there with a knowing look. Little shit.

“You know exactly what issue I’m seeing here,” you said, giving him an accusatory stare.

“What?” he said mildly. “I see nothing. Literally nothing.”

“Foggy!” You rounded on Foggy, who shared the sheepish expression. “When it’s you and Matt’s turn to guess, you’ve got an advantage! If I’m acting something out around the corner, Matt will just recreate it in his world-on-fire or whatever—”

“In our defense, the last time we played this, I didn’t know he had x-ray vision,” Foggy said, his hands in the air.

“Number one,” Matt cut in, “I don’t have x-ray vision. And number two, I won’t focus on your movements. Only Karen’s description of what you’re doing.” He crossed his heart. “You have my word.”

“I don’t trust you for one second, Murdock. You said that I had your word last week that you wouldn’t eat the rest of my pretzels, and lo and behold, the next day I found an empty bag with nothing but sea salt at the bottom.”

“That was a moment of weakness. I’ll buy you more pretzels.”

“If I feel like you’re guessing too accurately for even one second, then I’m going to—”

“Got the pizza,” Karen announced, coming back in. “So who’s going first?”

Five minutes later, you sat on the couch, alertly chewing your pizza as Matt got up from the couch and went down the hall where you and Karen couldn’t see him. There was a soft sound as the door opened and closed while he stepped out of the apartment to have the voice reader on his phone read the generated prompt to him.

He reentered ten seconds later. “Considering the last time I saw this was when I was a kid, I don’t think this is going to go too well.”

Foggy shushed him. “You’re giving them hints, Murdock!”

“Keep talking, Matt,” you said from your seat on the couch. “Where did you see it as a kid? At an amusement park? In school? On an airplane?”

“Nope. Keep your mouth shut, Matt. Ignore your girlfriend. She’s a Siren, trying to lure you in so that we lose.”

“Okay. Fine,” Matt said. You could hear soft rustling in the hallway, then a thud. “Um. Something like this, I guess?”

“Matt, the whole point is to do it non-verbally,” Karen said, laughing as she took a bite of pizza.

“He’s sort of... running in place?” Foggy said. “Like, not a panicked I’m-running-for-my-life run. More like a bouncy jaunt.”

You snorted. “Matt Murdock is doing a bouncy jaunt? You should record this, Foggy. I don’t think I’ll ever feel at peace if I don’t get to be a witness of that.”

“Okay. Now he’s swatting at something. Like he’s trying to kill bugs? Stop shaking your head, Matt, you’re not allowed to do that. Wait. Maybe not swatting at bugs. Spanking something?”

Matt let out a frustrated groan. “Foggy, I don’t know what I’m—”

“Suck it up. We have a winning streak to preserve here,” Foggy said lightly. “So, assuming that you’re spanking something—”

“I’m not spanking anything!” Matt’s indignant voice carried down the hall.

“I’m flipping the hourglass for another minute,” Karen said. “You two have spent half of the time talking. We need more descriptions, Foggy.”

“Right. Okay. He’s jumping now, punching the air. Triumphantly? Happily? I mean, he’s sort of smiling, I guess, if that’s what smiling is on Planet Matt.”

“A sports fan?” you suggested. “Or an athlete? I need more specifics, Foggy. Is it spanking or swatting?”

“Based on the death glare I’m receiving right now, I’d say it’s neither. Chucking something, then. Jumping again with one fist in the air. And either throwing a temper tantrum or stomping on something to kill it. Basically he’s jogging — again with the cheerful sort of flare to it, I guess? — jumping with one knee in the air, then stomping.”

“Okay.” Your mind raced. “Basketball player? Layups are done with one knee in the air, right?”

“A singer,” Karen said. “Or a rock star. Some sort of celebrity.”

“Wrong, wrong, and wrong. And time’s up,” Foggy said, gleefully whirling around to make a note of their score on the paper you’d taped to the wall. “Nelson and Murdock, one.”

Matt emerged from the hallway, his cheeks slightly red. “It was Mario,” he said. “From what I remember, he does a goofy jump with a knee and fist in the air, right? And stomps on the turtles or whatever?”

“Fair enough. Good memory,” you said, standing up to take his place and squeezing his arm. “I should’ve thought of that.”

A total of five rounds passed, with you and Matt alternating as actors and Karen and Foggy narrating each time (since Matt had no way to describe Foggy), when you were finally tied for the final point.

“Sudden death?” Karen suggested. “If you guys guess this one, then you win. If not, we win. Losers have to take everyone out for dinner tomorrow night.”

“It’s on,” Matt said, grinning, and you shot him a look that he couldn’t have missed. Feel the sharp motion of my head, Murdock, and know that I will have my revenge if you cheat. Whether or not he was listening to the motions of your acting, or just listening to Karen’s description as he’d promised he would was unknown, but so far the game had been evenly matched. You picked up your phone and refreshed the generator.

The name “Daredevil” flashed back at you. Immediately your heart rate surged and you had to fight to stay cool, seeing Matt’s head immediately swivel towards you.

“It’s a tricky one,” you complained, to cover the sudden increase in your heart rate. “I don’t know how to do this.” Which was true enough.

“You’ve got this.” Karen followed you to the hallway. “Come on, we need this win.”

How on earth were you supposed to act out Daredevil? From what Karen knew, Daredevil had no affiliations with Matt, so merely acting out blindness was out of the question. Attempting to mimic his fighting techniques would have to do. Hesitantly, you threw a couple of punches into the air.

“She’s punching something,” Karen reported. “Kind of fast, like repetitive motions.”

“Like Dash from the Incredibles?”

“Well, not that fast. Okay, now she’s kicking at something.”

“A mercenary. Or soldier,” Matt said, his voice suspiciously amused, and you felt certain that he was constructing an image of your stupid movements in his world on fire. No doubt you looked like an idiot, you thought, as you jumped up and did a pathetic kick into the air.

“She jumped,” Karen said. “And kind of stuck her leg out like she was trying to not fall, maybe? I’m not sure.”

You repeated the motion, this time getting your leg a bit higher in the air.

“Okay, jumping and kicking,” Karen amended. “And now punching again. And throwing something.”

“Captain America!” Foggy said suddenly. “Iron Man, Black Widow, Hulk—”

You bit your lip and approached the wall of the hallway, pretending to push off of it as though using it like a gymnasium.

“I think she’s attacking the wall,” Karen said. “She’s... running into it? No, now she’s climbing the wall.”

“Spider-Man!” Foggy continued, but the silence from Matt was making you even more wary now.

“Fifteen more seconds,” Karen warned. “Okay, now she’s putting her hands over her head, like ears? Rabbit ears, maybe? Pointy ears. And ten seconds left.”

“Come on, Matt!” Foggy demanded. “I don’t know! Falcon, Black Panther — shit, I’m blanking, who are the other Avengers?

“Eight. Seven.”

“Scarlet Witch, Dr. Strange! Damn it — um, Ant Man!”

“Six. Five. She’s still just... kicking and punching and stuff,” Karen said. “Four.”

“Matt, help me out here!”

“Three.”

Foggy was shouting at this point. “Hawkeye!”

“Two.”

“Maybe Daredevil?” Matt suggested at the last second, his tone far too nonchalant, so that even from in the hallway you could hear the smirk on his face.

You stormed out from behind the hallway, hands on your hips. “Seriously? You waited until the last second?”

“I didn’t wait until the last second,” he said innocently. “It just came to me, right at the end.”

Karen was grinning. “That’s a good one. I love that someone put Daredevil into the generator; he deserves so much more attention.”

“I don’t know,” you said, staring resolutely at Matt. “The new red suit is a bit cocky, isn’t it? Those horns and everything are just a cry for attention. He seems like he’s probably an arrogant guy.”

Foggy shot you and Matt a look. “I guess I should’ve thought of that with the jumping around on the wall. Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat to change the subject, “what do we want them to buy us, Matt? Thai? Italian? Or maybe we could go to that new steakhouse over on 45th.”

“We should’ve won that game,” you grumbled. “Last second answers should be discounted.”

“Ah, but the Nelson-Murdock power couple is just too strong to take on,” Foggy said. “Oh! We could go to that hibachi place.”

Matt’s arm snaked around your waist. “Tomorrow night at 8?”

“Yeah, whatever,” you said, allowing Matt to draw you in closely to him. “Tomorrow we’re going to play Scrabble, though. And I intend to dominate.”

Matt only responded once Karen and Foggy instantly began chatting about the hibachi restaurant, his whisper a soft tickle in your ear. “Sweetheart, I’ll show you tonight what it means to dominate.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil x reader #marvel

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returnsandreturns · 7 months

Text

assorted stray lines while i clean out my novlr account because i forgot i was paying for it oops

“It’s good, buddy,” Matt says, voice soft and faintly shaking, fingertips skimming over Foggy’s hair. “You’re doing good.”

[soft soft college praise kink]

---

“You’re really not gonna take that thing off?” she asks, amused, reaching up to flick gently at one of the points.

“I can’t,” he says, sighing. “If you know who I am, things will be more dangerous for both of us.”

“So you’re saying that I’d recognize you,” she says, fingers running down one of his cheeks slowly, tracing his jaw, gripping his chin. “Local celebrity?”

[i almost wrote a battison fic lol]

---

“. . .how did we end up in bed together, exactly?” Matt asks.

“You kissed me twice,” Foggy says. “Once accidentally and once on purpose.”

“. . .and then you kissed me,” Matt says, faintly, leaning back in his chair. The memory of Foggy pressing up against the wall outside of Josie’s suddenly smacks him in the face.

“Yep,” Foggy says.

[a wake up naked together fic]

---

“Foggy, I know that we should talk about this,” Matt says, running his hands down Foggy’s side, slipping underneath his shirt when he hits his hips, “but I don’t—I don’t wanna—”

“Talk about this?” Foggy asks, amused.

Matt has a dark look on his face before he backs Foggy up and presses him up against the wall, bodies pressed together, electricity between them.

“Stop,” he says, kissing him, breath hot when he angles his head toward Foggy’s neck. “I don’t want to stop.”

[unknown context]

---

“I don’t know why you like me sometimes,” Matt says, almost casually, in the middle of a movie night where they’re pressed up together in Foggy’s bed—something distracting enough that it takes a few seconds before that sentence hits Foggy in the head.

“What?” he asks, sitting up.

“Uh, nothing,” Matt says, laughing softly. “I just—I know you kind of have to hang out with me because I’m your roommate but the fact that you actually want to is—it’s nice. And surprising.”

“What?” Foggy repeats, gaping at him. “It’s surprising that I like you? What the fuck?”

[foggy compliments matt everyday until eventually one of them confesses their ardent love]

---

"Are we going to own up to the fact that something's happening between us?" Foggy asks, quietly, leaning into Matt a little more. There's not a lot of room in the storage closet that Marci trapped them in after a week of them fighting but he's not letting Matt get away.

"No," Matt says, equally quiet.

"Seriously?" Foggy asks, laughing. "We--we fucked, Matt. You're just gonna act like we didn’t?"

They weren't even that drunk. It just. Happened.

[internalized homophobia matt, my beloved]

---

“I feel like I should just shut up and let this happen, but—I mean, are you—gay? Bi? Do you actually want the sex part?” Foggy asks.

“I don’t know, but—I want to get on my knees for you,” Matt says, smiling faintly. “What does that mean?”

“That God is real,” Foggy says.

[gentle bro dom foggy heals matt with his dick: a storied genre]

---

“have i done the research,” casey says, scoffing as she hauls a totebag up from the floor and dumps two huge binders onto her bed, neon post-it notes poking out of every corner. “i almost drowned in microfiche, you son of a bitch.”

“don’t say true things about my mother,” alex says, with absolutely no heat, dropping onto her bed and picking one of them up, making a soft oof noise. “jesus, you did this over a weekend?”

“no rest,” casey says, darkly. “four thousand shots of espresso. i also figured out who the zodiac killer is and attempted to seduce the cute male librarian.”

[witchy teen novel]

---

“You know you have to go back to class eventually, right?” Matt asks, on the second day, placing a hand on Foggy’s bed and waiting for Foggy to take it before he climbs up to sit next to him.

“Or—get this, Murdock,” Foggy says, letting Matt pull him close to his side. “I drop out and become a wandering troubadour. How fast do you think I can pick up guitar?”

“You can’t leave me here alone,” Matt says, warmly, kissing the side of his head. “I wouldn’t make it.”

“Nah,” Foggy says. “You’d be fine without me. We’ll get you a guide dog or something.”

[BIPOLAR FOGGY, MY BELOVED]

---

“You think I should worship you,” Guillermo says.

“Well. . .” Nandor says, gesturing at himself like it’s an obvious answer.

[no clue where this was going but presumably smut]

---

“They got Betsy Wallace,” Jake says, before she’s even got the door fully open.

“Hot evil talking head Betsy Wallace?” Emma asks.

Tobin makes a noise like he forgot how to speak and they both look over at him to see that he looks nothing short of terrified.

“What just happened in your beautiful mind?” Emma asks.

“That’s my ex,” he says, faintly.

“Your ex,” Jake repeats.

“I. . .dated Betsy Wallace,” he says, nodding. “For, like, a year.”

“You dated a Republican?” Emma asks, making a face.

“I dated an opportunist,” he says. “She’ll go to whoever pays her the most.”

“I mean, good for her,” Emma says, absent-mindedly, googling Betsy’s name and laughing when her picture pops up. “God, she’s blonde. Like, very blonde.”

“She dyes it,” Tobin says, darkly.

[the senate race fake fiancee romcom]

#mattfoggy #my fic

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 11 months

Text

Salvation Chapter 7: Reader

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Story Summary: Reader is walking home one evening and gets attacked in an alleyway... until the Devil of Hell's Kitchen himself comes to her rescue. After passing out during the ordeal, she wakes up in the apartment of one Matthew Murdock, a kind and handsome lawyer who treats her injuries. As she and Matt get to know each other and grow closer, will someone from Reader's past tear their happiness apart?

Warnings/Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Sexual Assault, Past Domestic Violence, Stalking, Kidnapping (Y'all, seriously, please mind the tags)

Word Count: ~31k total

A/N: None.

"Foggy, Foggy, Foggy, Foggy…"

What the hell is that? Y/N thought as she was pulled out of the best sleep she had gotten in years.

"Foggy, Foggy, Foggy, Foggy…"

She realized that the noise was coming from Matt's nightstand. "Matt, baby, your phone is ringing," she mumbled. "Please make it stop."

"Mmm," Matt sleepily replied, his chest rumbling underneath Y/N's head. "'Kay."

"Foggy, Foggy."

Y/N nuzzled Matt's chest, sighing happily as blessed silence filled the room.

"Foggy, Foggy, Foggy, Foggy…" Matt's phone started up again.

"Shit," Matt muttered.

Y/N raised her head and cracked a bleary eye open as Matt reached towards his nightstand. "It'd better be murder or else I might be committing one," she joked.

Matt chuckled then answered the call. "Yeah, Foggy. No, I'm awake. What's up? Uh huh. Uh huh. Okay. Okay, I'll be there as soon as possible. Yeah. Yeah, I'll tell you about it later. Okay, bye."

He huffed out a laugh as he hung up. "You were right. Emergency client, wrongfully accused of murder. Meeting at the office in an hour."

Y/N stretched luxuriously, pleasantly sore in all the right places. "Mmkay. Gimmie just a minute and I'll get up and get going."

Matt looked torn. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. This isn't how I planned the morning after our first night together to go. I wanted to treat you right -- wake you up properly, make you breakfast in bed, maybe give you a massage since you like my hands so much…"

Y/N's face heated at both Matt's insinuation and the memory of what exactly he did with those hands the previous night. "It's okay. You can make it up to me later… As long as I get a repeat of last night too."

Matt grinned and gave her a kiss. "Mmm. Deal."

Y/N ogled him shamelessly as he got out of bed. "Shower together? It'll save both time and water. No funny business, I promise."

Matt grinned. "Oh, I think we have time for a little bit of funny business."

Y/N laughed. " Fine , but don't blame me if you're late."

They took a quick shower, (mostly) keeping their hands to themselves, then moved to the sink to brush their teeth before heading back to Matt's bedroom to dress.

Y/N pulled on the outfit she had intended to change into the evening before while Matt put on one of his suits.

Matt came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Mmm, I can smell myself on you," he said, nuzzling her neck. "I kind of like it -- the perfect blend of the two of us."

"Careful, Matt, your caveman is showing," Y/N replied with a laugh, tilting her head to give him better access.

Matt nosed at her pulse point, his stubble scratching deliciously along her skin. "It's intoxicating."

Y/N shivered. If someone's life hadn't literally been on the line... "Matt, honey, you're definitely going to be late if you keep this up because I'm about two seconds away from dragging you back to bed."

"Yeah, okay, good point." Matt gave her a quick kiss on her neck and let go. “We probably should get going.”

They exited Matt's bedroom and headed back into the main area of the apartment.

Y/N grabbed her purse then walked over to the door, where Matt was waiting for her, cane in hand.

"What time is it?" Matt asked.

Y/N checked her phone for the time. "Mmm, 7:33, why?"

"Because I should have time to at least walk you home on my way to the office." Matt held out a hand. "Shall we?"

Y/N took it with a smile. "We shall."

They walked together to Y/N's house, making it quickly down the mostly-empty streets.

Soon they stopped in front of Y/N's door.

Matt smiled. "I'll call you after I get done with this client. Maybe we can grab brunch? Or possibly a late lunch or early dinner, depending on how long this takes."

Y/N smoothed down Matt's tie and gave him a kiss. "Sounds great."

She bit her lip. "By the way, I had a really great time last night."

Matt grinned. "So did I. Looking forward to our re-do."

"Me too." Y/N gave Matt one last kiss. "Okay, Counselor, go help your client."

She unlocked her door and let herself in. As much as she would've loved to just stay in bed with Matt all day, she knew the people of Hell's Kitchen needed him.

She set her purse down then moved to the kitchen to grab a drink before heading upstairs to her office.

She plugged her phone in to charge and powered on her laptop, scrolling through her emails and flagging the ones from repeat clients with new jobs to reply to later before checking her freelancing account for new client requests. She rolled her eyes at the numerous term paper and college admissions essay requests and marked the few remaining as potentials.

She was considering starting on the latest web journal article one of her regulars had requested when her phone rang.

She smiled. "Hi honey, done already?"

"Hey, sweetheart," Matt replied. "No, Foggy and I are on our way to the police station to interview our client, but I just wanted to give you a heads-up that it'll definitely be closer to dinner by the time we hang it up for today."

Y/N could hear Foggy saying something in the background.

Matt chuckled. "Foggy said he'll definitely need a drink or twelve tonight, so we could do dinner at the office and maybe Josie's after?"

"Yeah, that sounds good. Tell Foggy I'm in."

"Will do. So granted nothing else goes sideways… dinner around 7?"

Y/N laughed lightly. "Sure. Want me to pick something up?"

"Yeah, that'd be perfect. I gotta run for now, but I'll call you back later? We're here."

"Ok, honey. Good luck!"

"Thanks, sweetheart. Bye."

"Bye."

Y/N hung up and stretched. Well, since my day is now free I might as well use it to get a jump on work.

She popped in her earbuds and put some music on, then got busy, managing to knock out most of the projects she had already lined up for the week before she needed to get ready to go.

She chuckled to herself as she marked her final task of the day off of her to-do list, pleased with her accomplishments. Who knew that being happy and in love would do wonders for my productivity?

She, Matt, Foggy, and Karen had wound up settling on Mimi's when Matt had called her earlier to work out dinner details, so Y/N showered and changed then headed out to pick up their food.

"Hi, Y/N. Mr. Murdock working today?" Abby asked when Y/N walked up to the podium.

Y/N nodded. "Yep, the law never sleeps, or however the saying goes."

Abby nodded then retrieved several to-go bags from the counter behind her. "Here's your order. Nonna also included dessert -- she's thinking about expanding the menu and is trying a few new recipes. I think she made panna cotta today."

"Oh, cool. Tell her thanks."

"Oh, and she also said to tell Mr. Murdock thank you for recommending us for that catering gig. That really helped business pick up."

"Will do. Thanks, Abby."

Y/N also stopped by the liquor store to pick up a couple of six packs of beer and bottles of wine before heading to Nelson & Murdock. "Knock knock!" she said as she let herself into the empty reception area.

"We're in here!" Matt called out from the conference room.

Y/N headed down the hall. "I come bearing food."

"And you even brought wine and beer," Foggy said as Y/N entered their conference room and set the bags down. "Bless you. See Matt, I told you she was a keeper."

Y/N laughed. "Aww gee, thanks, Foggy. That's nice to hear."

Y/N wrapped her arms around Matt, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Hi, honey. Hey Kare."

"Hey, Y/N," Karen replied.

"Hi, sweetheart," Matt said, turning his head to give Y/N a proper kiss on the lips. "Thanks for picking up dinner."

"Yeah, thanks," Foggy added. "We really appreciate it. Today's been a day ."

Y/N shrugged as Karen began to unload the bags. "It's the least I could do for the hardest working legal team in New York. By the way, Mrs. Morelli sends her thanks for the catering recommendation as well as some panna cotta . Abby said she's testing out new desserts to potentially add to the menu."

"I will happily be Mrs. Morelli's culinary guinea pig," Foggy declared. "Everything she makes is excellent."

"100% agreed," Karen added, handing Y/N her food. "Here's yours, Y/N."

Y/N took her to-go container from Karen. "Thanks, Kare. Matt, honey, you want beer or wine?"

"Mmm, I'll take a beer," Matt replied. "Thanks, sweetheart."

Y/N sat next to Matt after pouring herself a glass of wine and handing him a beer. "So, how's the case going?" she asked as they all dug into their dinner.

"Well right now it's not looking too good," Foggy replied. "But we just started going over the files that the previous defense attorney had gathered. Turns out our client's former attorney was arrested on Friday for taking bribes, so let's just say that his files weren't exactly the most detailed or organized."

Y/N grimaced. "Yikes."

"We're basically starting from scratch," Karen added. "There's witnesses to be re-interviewed and discovery to try to track down, not to mention a major backlog of old cases that still need to be input into the new computer software. Plus I wanted to try to get started on updating our filing system tomorrow, but that's definitely not going to happen now."

Y/N took a sip of her wine. "Want some help?"

"Seriously?” Karen replied. “That would be great."

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, I had a really productive day today and don't have any major projects or pressing deadlines at the moment, so I can at least help get started on the data entry and filing stuff while you all focus on this case and whatever else that happens to come up in the meantime."

She grinned. "I mean, as long as Matt and Foggy don't mind the free labor."

"You're hired," Foggy said immediately.

Y/N laughed. "Well okay then."

Foggy shook his head with a grin. "No but really, Matt and I have desperately been needing to hire another office assistant to help Karen, so you wouldn't be interested in actually coming to work for us, would you? I mean we couldn't pay you a lot but I'm sure we can work something out."

Matt nodded. "You know, I was thinking the same thing. Of course I'd never ask you to give up any of your clients, sweetheart, so feel free to say no if you're not interested, but we really could use the extra help."

Y/N bit her lip as she thought for a moment. "You know, business has been steady enough to where I was thinking about taking on fewer one-off clients and just focusing on clients with more regular assignments anyway, so how about I do full-time to start since my schedule's open then drop down to part-time once everything gets organized and you guys get this case under control?"

"That sounds fine to me. Foggy? Karen?"

"Yeah, that sounds great," Foggy added.

"That's super helpful," Karen chimed in.

"Okay, then it's settled. When do you want me to start?"

Matt grinned. "Is tomorrow morning too soon?"

"No, tomorrow's fine."

"Okay, great," Foggy said. "We'll finalize your schedule and everything when you get here."

"Sounds good."

Foggy tapped his hand on the table. "This calls for a toast. I think it's time to open the Jameson."

"I agree," Matt added. "I'll go grab it, be right back."

"Foggy, hon, why don't you go help him?" Karen chimed in as Matt left the room.

"Oh, I'm sure he's got it," Foggy replied.

Y/N bit her lip to keep from laughing as Karen shot Foggy a look. "I think Matt needs some help," Karen said pointedly.

"Oh… Oh, right! Right, I should go help Matt with that." Foggy stood. "Yeah, I'll be right back too."

Karen turned to Y/N as soon as Matt and Foggy were both out of the room. "Ok, so spill."

"Spill what?" Y/N replied innocently.

Karen rolled her eyes playfully. "You know what, missy! You're absolutely glowing and Matt looked more relaxed when he walked into the office this morning than I've seen him in years despite having been called in before 8 am on a Sunday, so something happened."

She gasped and dropped her voice to a whisper. "You two finally slept together, didn't you?"

Y/N grinned even as her face heated. "Now Kare, you know a lady never kisses and tells."

"You did! No wonder you're both in such good moods today."

Y/N huffed out a laugh. "Ok, ok, you got me. I stayed over at Matt's place last night."

"How was it?"

Y/N grinned slyly. "Which time?"

"Which time -- How many were there?"

"Well, there was the first time, which was perfect -- it was soft, and slow, and just… Well, 'earth-shattering' is really the only way I can describe it . There was a second time -- in the shower, I might add -- which was also amazing, then later on there was a third time, which… well, honestly probably ties with the first round as the best sex of my life." Y/N's face heated at the memory. After dinner Matt had made her fall apart twice on his fingers and tongue before making love to her again. "I tell you, Kare, the things that man can do with his hands and mouth… Not just good for arguing cases. Mmph."

Matt was by far the most generous and caring lover Y/N had ever had. Sex with Colin had mostly consisted of making sure that Colin's needs were met and had almost always left Y/N unsatisfied; on the other hand, sex with Matt, however limited it was so far in Y/N's experience, had been very satisfying. Not only did Matt make sure Y/N's needs were fulfilled (and multiple times at that) before his own, but he also seemed to instinctively know exactly what Y/N needed without any guidance.

Karen winced. "Oh, shit, so Foggy's call this morning then…"

Y/N shook her head. "We were still sleeping and even if we hadn't been someone's life is literally on the line, so it's totally okay."

She grinned. "Besides, Matt promised me a re-do."

Karen laughed. "You go, girl."

Y/N took a sip of her wine. "So since we're talking about really great sex, what about Foggy? I bet he's no slouch between the sheets either."

Karen grinned. "Not at all. Let me just say that his mouth also isn't only good for arguing cases."

Y/N raised her glass of wine. "To Nelson and Murdock, aces in both the courtroom and in the bedroom."

Karen laughed and clinked her beer bottle against it. "Cheers to that."

"Hey, ladies, what are we toasting to?" Foggy asked as he and Matt returned with a bottle of whiskey and 4 glasses.

"Oh, just to another job well done," Karen said.

Y/N snorted out a laugh before turning towards Matt.

She frowned. "Matt, honey, are you feeling okay? Your face is really red."

Matt shook his head. "What? Oh, uh, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

Matt nodded as he set the bottle of whiskey he was carrying down on the table and sat. "Yep. Just a bit warm in here, that's all. I'll be fine in a minute."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"Mmhmm."

Y/N gave Matt another quizzical look before turning back to Karen. I hope he's not coming down with something. "Yeah, Kare, wow, very interesting story about that case. Impressive. Good job, all of you."

"Anyway, time to celebrate," Matt jumped in, opening the bottle of scotch and pouring them each a glass. "To the newest official employee of Nelson and Murdock -- welcome to the team, Y/N. Glad to have you join us."

"Thank you, thank you," Y/N said as they all clinked their glasses together. "Happy to be here."

The four of them finished dinner and moved on to dessert, all agreeing that Mrs. Morelli's panna cotta was the best thing they had ever eaten.

"Alright, I think I'm gonna call it a night," Y/N said after they had finished all of the beer and wine and half of the bottle of Jameson. "I can't do Josie's on top of all this, especially if I have to function in the morning."

Matt nodded. "I'll walk you home, sweetheart. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow, so I'm gonna call it too."

Karen stood and began to clean up. "Yeah, same. I'm exhausted."

"Me too," Foggy agreed. "Thanks again for picking up dinner and drinks, Y/N."

Y/N gave a shrug. "No problem. Glad to help in any way I can."

They quickly cleaned up and headed out, Karen locking the door behind them. "See you two tomorrow," she said.

"See you tomorrow," Y/N agreed.

"Good night," Foggy added.

"'Night," Matt added.

Y/N took Matt's hand as they made the familiar trek to her house, Matt not even bothering with his cane since he had Y/N to guide him.

"You're sure it's okay if I come to work for you?" Y/N asked as they walked. "I really don't mind just helping out temporarily until everything gets organized or you guys hire someone else."

Matt nodded. "Honestly, sweetheart, I'm thrilled that you'll be an official member of the Nelson and Murdock team. Not only do I really appreciate the extra help but it'll be great to be able to see you more often, even if we'll both be working."

He paused. "Unless you've changed your mind?"

Y/N shook her head. "No, of course not, I'm just thinking… How are we going to handle our personal relationship while at the office? I know Karen works for you guys and she and Foggy are dating, but they got together way after you hired her. You literally just gave your girlfriend a job."

"Technically, Foggy gave my girlfriend a job. I just agreed to it."

Y/N playfully tapped him on the arm with her free hand. "You know what I mean."

Matt chuckled. "Yeah, I do. We're a private firm, so there's no rule against nepotism, and either way, it's not like we hired you solely because you're my girlfriend. You're more than qualified for the position. Besides, now that you're an official employee of the firm I can discuss cases openly with you, including our latest. You might have some insight that the rest of us haven't thought of."

He bit his lip. "By the way, thank you again for being so understanding about this morning."

Y/N shook her head. "Seriously, it's not a big deal. What you do is important and I can handle having the morning after date night interrupted on occasion if it means possibly saving a client's life."

Matt gave her hand a squeeze. "I still want to make it up to you as soon as I can."

They paused outside Y/N's front door.

Y/N grinned. "You know, I'd invite you in but I'm starting a new job tomorrow and I really want to impress my bosses -- well, one of them, anyway. You see, he's this badass lawyer who really cares about helping people in need, and he's smart, and caring, and kind, and very handsome, and he looks great in a business suit…" Y/N trailed a finger down the lapel of Matt's suit. "Looks just as good out of it too, or so I hear. Hell of a good kisser and fantastic in bed, knows exactly how to please a woman."

Matt smirked even as his cheeks turned pink. "Oh really now?"

"Mmhmm." Y/N then reached up and traced the sides of Matt's glasses. "Oh, and he wears these red tinted glasses, which actually kinda give him this sexy air of mystery in addition to just being really cool."

Matt huffed out a laugh and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Sexy, huh?"

Y/N nodded. "Oh yeah. Very sexy."

"Kinda sounds like you're into him. Should I be jealous?"

Y/N pretended to think. "Nah, he already has a girlfriend and seems to be pretty devoted to her. Besides, who needs him when I have a smart, caring, kind, and incredibly hot and sexy boyfriend of my own to whom I'm 100% devoted?"

Matt laughed. "You know, maybe I should walk you to work anyway. Show this new boss of yours that you're spoken for, just in case."

God, Y/N loved him. "Yeah, okay, if you insist . But didn't you tell me that you just hired a new office assistant? Maybe it's me who should be jealous."

Matt pretended to think. "Hmm… well, my new office assistant is very patient, and understanding, and kind, and caring, and she's also beautiful both inside and out… but I'm pretty sure she has a boyfriend."

"Aww, gee, well that's too bad."

Matt shook his head. "Wouldn't matter anyway since I have a patient and understanding and kind and caring and very beautiful girlfriend of my own to whom I'm 100% devoted."

Y/N grinned. "Lucky girl."

Matt shook his head. "I'm definitely the lucky one."

Y/N's face heated. "Matt…"

Matt gave her a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be by around 8:30 tomorrow morning?"

"Sounds great." Y/N tilted her face up and gave Matt a slow and tender kiss. "Good night, honey."

She bit her tongue to keep from adding I love you . As much as she felt it, this wasn't the right moment to say it for the first time.

Matt nuzzled her nose with his before giving her one last peck. "Night, sweetheart. See you in the morning."

Y/N headed in and closed and locked the door behind her. Life can't get much better than this.

#lotmf writes #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock x yn #Salvation Masterlist

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pastafossa · 2 years

Note

So I promised earlier that I would be back after reading the chapter to give some love for Pasta and I am here to deliver.

Because frankly? I don’t know how you do it.

How did you take a part of a story that I already had a vague idea of what was going to happen (based on the tv show) and have me on the edge of my seat, legit making me feel emotions of suspense?

I don’t know man, there was just something about this last chapter that made me remember how absolutely in awe I am of your talent as a writer as if I ever forgot but you get my point.

I knew that Matt, Jane, and Elektra were going to get out of the encounter with all the guards for story reasons, but the way you were able to entangle these characters into a brand new suspense encounter as they fought their way out had me blown away. Your words. The tension that you built. The way Matt and Jane were able to create this thickness in the air that only they shared together. Immaculate.

There’s just so many emotions and feelings that I have about the red thread that I just don’t know how to put into words, my friend. You’ve taken the Daredevil show and made it new. I dare say, better.

I know I’ve found myself on multiple occasions wishing that TRT is what we could be experienced on our screens instead.

I’ll just end by saying this, my dear Pasta-

As a writer, your work is the type of work I read because seeing how amazing it is makes me want to push myself to be better in hopes of having the honor to reach it one day.

I hope you know just what you’ve given us.

i need a minute

OK I'M OK NOW.

This was wonderful to hear, thank you so, so much. 😭 I'm always a little nervous about doing action scenes because I love reading them to death but they're also hugely intimidating to write, so knowing I hit the mark with the rising tension and suspense is HUGE, especially when I was also trying to weave the psychic world and the real world together in between. On top of that, one of my big things is even when TRT bumps firmly into something canonical like the Gala event, I want to make sure you guys get something new. The presence of a character is like a chemical, and adding it to an event, a scene, a moment, a mixture will always change the chemical composition even if some similarities to the old mixture remain. It's also admittedly one of the things I enjoy about fanfic - throw a new element in, then shake the whole batch up and see what pours out. And Jane's element includes her intimacy with Matt, the way they've learned to communicate during a big fight (which I've been building to for a while now as their team-up style), and their now-understood dual-acceptance of the other's darker side, so that influenced a lot of what happened. There was a lot to weave together and I'm just glad it all came out like it did, I was nervous.😅

And thank you for that, too! TRT on the screen would be AMAZING hi feige and marvel i have very competitive rates if you would like to do a jane hind and matt murdock comic or show series

As a writer, your work is the type of work I read because seeing how amazing it is makes me want to push myself to be better in hopes of having the honor to reach it one day.

scuse me i did not plan to cry today. fr though, I have read your work and I absolutely believe in it and you, it's good, I've seriously enjoyed it! all either of has to do is keep going, keep writing, keep improving and we can get there. <3

#ask response #the red thread #pasta talks to friends #THIS MADE ME VERY EMOTIONAL OK #and ironically it hit on a lot of the things i was worried about with this last chapter/current little arc #i am *very* careful when i bump into canon in TRT #so that things are either different or changed or they happen *waves* over there but we see the unseen aftermath #i knew there'd be elements of the gala that were unchanged because there's no other way for them *to* happen #but i knew i wanted to change it and also work to have just as much suspense and danger #while also showing how the two of them are learning to work in situations like this #this happening so soon after the Let the Devil Out arc and there being a lot of this primal intimacy in their thread #just after all that happened #and while they're both in a firefight is not a coincidence #so hearing all of this was LOVELY thank you so so much my friend!

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littlerosetrove · 2 years

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I already knew it before this last episode, but She-Hulk was a miss for me. I didn’t hate it, but I didn’t really like it either. I am a Marvel fan, but a critical one.

Let me try to keep my overall thoughts brief, and keep in mind that this is how the show and characters came across to me.

The writing and storytelling was generally sloppy and kinda disjointed.

The only fully formed character was Jen while literally everyone else was a walking stereotype of some sort, and just one dimensional caricatures. Even so, I still didn’t learn all the much about Jen. What I did get was: she’s a lawyer (not a great one either), I think she wants to date but is satisfied with hook-ups I guess, kinda self-centered, honestly a bit dismissive and belittling towards her cousin Bruce, and......????

Clearly part of the story was supposed to showcase Jen coming to terms and peace with living her life as Jen and She-Hulk. To me her “acceptance” wasn’t executed well. Her only inkling to even be a superhero came up in the second to last episode when Matt Murdock, a stranger, told Jen she can do good as a lawyer and as She-Hulk. Until that point, Jen had no interest in being a superhero. She only used She-Hulk to get attention. Even by the end of the series, and in the last episode, where She-Hulk/Jen says something about being a lawyer and a superhero, I just.... didn’t buy it. The show, to me, did a poor job of convincing me that Jen 1) wants to be a superhero, and 2) is on her way to being a superhero.

She-Hulk never cared or thought about property damage the entire time, nor did she seem to think about the fact that 99.9999% of the people she was confronting are human and easy for her to kill or seriously harm. My favorite example is her throwing a fucking car at Daredevil when she had no clue if he is super-powered or not.

The “pairing” (re: they had a little banter I guess and slept together once) of Daredevil/Matt and Jen didn’t work for me. It felt very contrived and forced. While the actors themselves have some chemistry, that doesn’t make up for the fact that the writing for their characters coming together or whatever, just didn’t work for me. I do not care to see more of them together in the future of the MCU.

The writers really used the fourth wall break in the last episode as a cop out to actually concluding some storylines and the show as a whole in any satisfying way. In some way the fourth wall break of Jen/She-Hulk saying, “No no, let’s do this ending differently” worked for me, but mostly not. Just *sighs* nothing really felt like it mattered.

I also never cared for the show’s constant “men bad” approach.

To reiterate, I don’t hate this show, but I don’t particularly like it either. I also don’t hate Jen, but the show didn’t really endear me to her or She-Hulk despite the actress playing her trying her best. If there’s a second season I don’t know if I’ll watch it. At most I’ll read spoilers about it just to keep up with the MCU overall.

EDIT: I was reading reviews on this show and someone made a great point: She-Hulk/Jen legit got out of criminal charges by demanding to speak with the manager. Holy shit.

#She-Hulk spoilers #She-Hulk criticism #if anyone reading this DID like the show that's great!#I'm not being sarcastic #you're allowed to enjoy what you enjoy #just as I am allowed to not like something #and I'm also allowed to be critical of the media I consume #and again I'm a Marvel fan #but that doesn't mean I have to like every #storyline or every character ya know?#anyway

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sovaharbor · 2 years

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title: underdogs rating: G words: 3,078 pairing: matt murdock/warren worthington iii characters: matt murdock, warren worthington iii, scott summers, emma frost, dani moonstar, josh foley summary: Emma looks down at her nails, inspecting them (presumably) meticulously.

Are you seriously trying to flirt with our lawyer, Warren?

He grins. Are you seriously questioning if I’m trying to flirt with our lawyer, Emma?

-- or, warren is called to the school to meet a new student he’ll be mentoring. there, he also meets the school’s newest lawyer.

also additionally tagged with ‘meet-cute.’ :) this is my crackship and i’m yeeting it out into the universe, thank u. an excerpt of this fic is below, but to read the whole thing, [ click here! ]

“There’s a new student,” Scott starts, and Warren’s immediately holding a hand up.

“Joshua Foley. Sixteen. Healing mutation, right?” At the furrow of Scott’s brow, Warren grins. “Emma called ahead with the details. You know, if you’re going to pull me out of work , Scotty, it really helps for me to know exactly why. There’s no point in being so hush-hush.”

“Enough with the Scotty, Warren.”

“Warry.”

Scott grimaces. “Enough. I didn’t give you the details because, quite frankly, we were still trying to convince Josh to stay here when I called you. I’m obviously very appreciative you were able to get out here on such short notice, even without the details, but—”

“—but you called me out here not even knowing if the kid was going to stay. Do you even know now?”

“We have a lawyer here,” says Scott, as if that explains anything.

Warren shifts on his feet. “Okay? What does that have to do with this? Am I being sued ?”

“No, Warren,” Scott says placatingly, like he’s talking to a student. “We know Josh is staying, because he’s not going to have anywhere else to go soon. Our lawyer is talking with his parents, their lawyer, Emma, and Dani right now, because they’re giving us — the school — custody.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Warren says out loud. “Well…shit.”

“Yeah.” Scott’s smile is small, wry. His arms cross over his chest. “Your timing’s pretty impeccable, though. We haven’t told him yet. It’ll probably help to see someone he knows he’ll be working with, give him something to look forward to.”

“You’re bribing a kid into staying by using me?”

“He got mixed up in some bad stuff,” says Scott. “He’s…confused. Upset. Doesn’t feel like he should be here. It’s not so much bribery as it is…”

“Giving him someone he can relate to,” Warren finishes for him, a bit deadpan. “Right. Well. Might as well use the sometimes-blue-and-metal-winged person. No doubt he’ll be thrilled to have me show him the ropes to healing.”

“It’ll be fine,” says Scott. “You’ll be fine. The both of you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Warren waves a hand dismissively. When it comes to Archangel, Warren has preferred the tactic of ‘avoidance’ lately. That means it’s easy for him to just continue on, completely changing the subject: “Anyways, which lawyer even came up with this idea? Was it one the parents brought on? I can’t imagine one of ours—”

“It was theirs, but ours didn’t exactly balk at it, either.”

Warren’s own brow furrows, very much mirroring the way Scott’s was moments ago. “I’m sorry, what?”

“He’s new,” says Scott, as if that absolves this crazy new lawyer of this very crazy idea, “but it was with good intentions, believe me. There really wasn’t any better way to solve this. His parents would not have been good people to send him home with. You know the type: virulently anti-mutant, and suddenly finding out their own kid is one doesn’t do much to change that. I wouldn’t trust them with him even if they did want to take him home, especially considering the type of people they let him run around with.”

“Still — separating him from his parents? The school having custody of him? Dani being his legal guardian? Scott, that’s…”

Scott holds his hands up, empty and in defense. “Look, at this point? Out of my hands. Paperwork’s being filled out as we speak. Dani volunteered to step up, and I’m telling you, this is the best decision for him. He wouldn’t be safe at home, and he’d be even less safe out on the streets when his parents inevitably kick him out if he did go home with them. You have a problem with it? Go talk to Matt and Dani.”

“Matt,” Warren repeats, wrinkling his nose. “The hell kind of a name is ‘Matt’ for a lawyer?”

“Matthew Murdock.”

Again: oh.

Warren blinks. His brows raise high. “Matthew Murdock? Of Nelson and Murdock?” Warren is blonde, and rich, and he may act like he’s stupid sometimes (okay, a lot of the time), but he does know a few things. Being a businessman, getting tangled up in all the webs throughout New York, there are certain names that float around that nobody ever wants to mess with. Nelson and Murdock are definitely two of them. “Why is he helping us? ”

“A sadistic streak, maybe? He’s working pro-bono.” Scott shrugs his shoulders, smile growing a little less wry. “Besides, he’s from Hell’s Kitchen, right? Maybe he’s got a soft spot for the underdogs, too.”

#matt murdock #warren worthington iii #daredevil #x-men #nobody look @ me. nobody say anything.#it's my crackship and i can post it if i want to :)#summer's writing tag

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obsoleteozymandias · 1 year

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Hello! Im pretty new to your blog. (I was just scrolling down on some matchups tags and i found your blog). Can i get a Marvel matchups with a male. Please? :)

•Im an INTJ 4w5

•Im a gay male (He/Him)

•My hobbies are drawing and playing video games (Sometimes i don't think video games is even an hobby... But whatever)

•Friends and some acquaintance told me that i always look angry all the time (Even though I didn't feel any anger at the time. My face is just like that.)

•I love making satirical offensive jokes with my friends and doing silly little trolling to someone just to get a laugh from my friends.

•Because of these things, sometimes my friends doesn't take me seriously when I need help or getting sad.

•My bad traits are ghosting or doing a silent treatment when im being stressed out. Sometimes even yell at them. Yeah.

•When i get comfortable with someone... I tend to vent to them about personal stuffs, sometimes even cry to them. Gets a bit clingy.

I think that's all... Thank you! 🐡

You’re very welcome King. Here ye go.

== Marvel ==>

I match you up with…

Matt Murdock

You need someone as intense as you, someone who can keep up with you, and by god is Matt that person. He’s a whirlwind of a person who rarely ever slows down, but he’ll make an exception for you.

He can see right through fake or fraudulent people, so he’s quick to point out anyone with a joke about their falseness. He rests easy knowing that you can pick up on these little intricacies about people too - he never wants you to feel betrayed or lied to.

That comes with a lot of dangerous territory, of course. He’s got a rough job, and he’s always trying to protect you, but you make it clear that secrets are non-negotiable. That’s okay though, you’re always there to patch him up and listen when he speaks.

Matt understands people’s feelings like few others, and knows instinctively when you’re having a bad time. He’ll simply sit by you, wrap his arms around your waist, and let you speak until you’re feeling better.

PLEASE introduce him to some non-violent hobbies. He need it good lord.

He can’t see everything you draw, but you’ll guide his fingers across the pages of your work, tracing the lines like a maze. He finds this so meditative, and will sometimes do the same when you’re not there, just to calm himself.

Overall, you two are the only ones in the world who understand each other. You won’t always know everything about the other person, but the love you share connects you in an unbreakable bond.

#oz’s requests #marvel #marvel matchups

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farfromstrange · 1 year

Text

Foreigner’s God | m.m

series masterlist

Matt Murdock x avenger!OFC

Chapter forty: Monster

Summary: She has a tendency to get herself in trouble for the greater good. This time though, she goes a little too far. Matt feels responsible to put a smile back on her face and restore the faith in herself.

Warnings: ANGST, attempted sexual assault (read at your own risk), Canon typical violence, vigilantism, knives, blood, use of mutant powers, heavy make-out session, SMUT (18+), nipple play, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, dry humping (?), degrading, dirty talk, praise kink, choking, multiple orgasms, basically sex doesn’t always go according to plan and sometimes stuff goes wrong, Matt Murdock’s ever present catholic guilt, crying, religious imagery and symbolism

a/n: Before you ask, yes this is inspired by a Frozen (The Musical) Song. Do I regret it? No. After being sick for an entire week, I have finally finished this goddamn chapter… it’s not my best work, so I apologize in advance. I reread it so many times, but it still feels rushed even though I incorporated every last plot point I wrote down. There’s just so much and now I’m insecure I screwed this up. But oh well, it won’t get any better than this. I tried. I can’t get anything better down. And I tried something… new? With this, so that’s kind of exciting, and I hope y’all like it anyway, even if it might not be what you expected and were so excited for.

Also, Melvin was always one of my favorite characters because he’s adorable and Eliza deserves this. (Also go Matt for being such an amazing boyfriend!!) posting the graphics for this chapter tomorrow or smth…

18+ MINORS DNI

The streets were dark and gloomy. She walked down the road to Matt’s apartment - her apartment with her head hung low and her keys clutched tightly in her fist. The other hand held her phone close to her ear as she listened to the voicemail announcement of the man she called.

“This is the third time I’ve called now. If you don’t call me back soon, I have to assume you’re dead somewhere,” said Eliza, taking a peek over her shoulder, “I read Tony’s letter, Happy. I can’t reach him and Pepper won’t answer her phone either. We need to talk. Call me back!”

She couldn’t reach Tony. His phone was off or disconnected, she wasn’t sure, so Happy was her last resort. Though no matter how many times she blew up his cell, he didn’t answer. His mailbox was full of missed messages now, but as long as it got him to call her back, she would gladly annoy him. The fear something might have happened nagged at her chest. He was known for not answering his texts or his calls right away, and she usually didn’t mind if he decided to take his privacy seriously, but she had seen what the world was capable of and how much pain it could cause to good people, and she wanted to prevent him from getting hurt again. Not receiving an answer to her pleas made her uneasy and she had to refrain from jumping into the closest cab and driving to the compound.

“Let me know you’re alive, at least,” she added before hanging up the phone for the third time and shoving it back into her pocket. “Asshole,” the curse slipped from her lips into the darkness. She had grown more vigilant over time and his lack of communication twisted her stomach into an uncomfortable knot.

She swore, after she almost died, she would not get herself into reckless trouble again. She swore she would be smarter.

Turns out, she wasn’t.

The second Eliza heard the scream of distress, her instincts sprung into motion.

“Don’t do it,” she whispered to herself.

The last time she acted on the scream of a distressed woman, she walked straight into Hydra. It was a deja vu of the bittersweet kind. She could call the cops and move on. Though by the time they arrived, whoever was attacking that woman would already have gotten what they wanted.

“Goddamn it!”

Matt would lose it.

She pressed against the wall right before the alley. She could make out two voices; a man and the cries of a woman begging for mercy.

“Fuck me,” she groaned. “I’m gonna do it.”

If she could prevent a woman from suffering the worst fate she possibly could, she had to do something. She had the strength to fight, and it was because of that that she chose to jump in.

The man turned to her when he heard the sound of her boots on the asphalt.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” she said.

The woman’s eyes widened at the sight of Eliza’s red eyes, and she cowered further against the wall. There was no light on her face, so recognizing her face was nearly impossible. She stepped out of the dark slowly and into the moonlight, hoping to instill some fear before this could get ugly. It didn’t work. They were too stupid to recognize her.

He chuckled darkly. “Today seems to be my lucky day,” he said. “Two for one. I’m sure we’d have so much fun together, but I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait your turn.”

“Oh, shut up!”

“Uh, feisty. That’s even hotter.”

“How about I shove my foot so far up your ass, it comes back out of your mouth?”

“Damn, didn’t your parents teach you any manners?”

“My parents are dead,” she deadpanned. “And I don’t have manners.”

“Are you really going to make this harder for me?” The man sighed. “I was having such a great time. And she was, too.” He pointed to his crying victim. She shook her head, the rest of her paralyzed, and she held her hands in front of her body as some form of protection.

Eliza bared her teeth. “You disgust me,” she spat. “Leave her alone. She didn’t do anything. If you want to get your hands on someone, do it on me.”

“Did you just ask me to do you?”

“Why is it that men can’t grasp the concept of a simple no?”

“Look at that skirt,” he retorted. “You can’t say you’re not asking for it. And her?” He pointed at the young woman. “Hers is even shorter, I can already see her ass hanging out.”

“No,” her soft cry filled the alley. “I didn’t… please, I just want to go home.”

“You heard her,” said Eliza. “Let her go. If you want to ruin someone’s life, you can ruin mine. Take your shot! See where this gets you.”

“Aw, where’s the fun in that?”

He wasn’t just drunk, he was born cruel. The man reached down to grab the woman’s shirt and haul her up,

Her hands started to glow, as did her eyes, and she turned into the thing she had tried to push down the past couple of weeks. She let the darkness consume her, let the foreign energy take control, and rise to her true potential. She hadn’t discovered the truth just to keep the stone hidden. It was there and lying in wait for a reason. What she didn’t expect was for it to feel so strong - it felt strong to the point it bordered on overwhelming, and she was no longer in control; she was a stranger in her own body watching from the outside as her instincts took over. It was a raw force, something to be reckoned with, but no one could win against her. The more she felt the fire in her hands, the more her common sense began to panic.

“Don’t touch her,” her voice had dropped several octaves, “Or you’re gonna regret it.”

When the man looked at her this time, all color faded from his skin and he stopped, frozen in place and eyes widened at the sight of her glowing frame.

Eliza turned to the crying woman on the ground. “Did he touch you?”

She shook her head. “N-no. Not yet,” she said.

“Then go! Run as fast as you can. Save yourself.”

She didn’t move a muscle. Her body remained stiff and pressed against the brick wall.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” Eliza raised her voice. “Run, now!”

Her heels clicked against the floor as she ran out of the alley, crying and sobbing uncontrollably, and undoubtedly calling the police on her way.

The man’s instincts kicked in as soon as they were alone. He feared she might kill him if he didn't resort to more serious measures. Lifting his fists, he attempted to attack her.

Tilting her head, she sighed. “Don’t,” she said, but he did it anyway.

He went after her. She tried hard to control herself, using her fists instead of the monster inside of her, instead of being who she truly was, but as soon as he hit her, she exploded. Her hands came up and he flew back, hitting the stone wall at the other end of the alley.

Her hands continued glowing at her sides. He lifted his split skull. Tears glistened in his eyes.

“Please,” he begged.

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” she said. “Not being in control. Telling someone no but the other person won’t listen. Almost humiliating, wouldn’t you say? Offensive, abusive, stripping you of your honor?”

“Please, I didn’t mean to- I thought she wanted this, I’m sorry!”

“You thought she wanted this? She said no! Does no mean nothing to you?”

“No, but-”

“What is it with you thinking you can take whatever the fuck you want without consequences?”

“It won’t happen again, I promise! Please…”

“Rest assured that I do this only because your behavior has been so inviting. You provoked me. I had no choice. Your behavior was misleading. You tempted me. I thought you wanted this with the way you kept flapping your hands around. That is not my fault.”

“No, God, don’t kill me, please! I didn’t mean to- I won’t do it again, I promise, just please… please, spare me!”

“Oh, I won’t kill you.” Her grin was empty, as was her voice. “Death is too kind for people like you,” she said. “You deserve to suffer. Not even hell would be kind enough for you, where you surely will be going. But no, not yet. Not before I haven’t made you see God over and over again while you’re screaming for my mercy the same way you’ve made that woman scream for mercy.”

He reached into his jeans. Eliza picked up on the blade in his hand too late. He threw it with a loud yelp, landing it in her upper arm. She hissed, reaching for the handle that stuck out of her skin. During that time, he used the moment of confusion to scramble to his feet and run. He had attacked her, threatened her, and made her bleed. She saw red. Literally and figuratively, she saw red.

She tore the blade from her skin. It squished, burn, and squirted some blood, but she didn’t care. She was angry, she was feral and she couldn’t help the way her mind reacted before she could grasp control over the ruthless animal inside of her.

Her powers pulled him back, soaring through the air, across the alley, and back into the wall.

She slapped a hand in front of her mouth. She only wanted to restrain him. In her head, keeping him in front of her would make it easier to keep him present until the police would come and arrest him. Instead, though, she had to watch in horror as the smoke in her hands carried him straight through the wall, tearing the stones apart, ripping a hole into the alley, and burying him underneath the bricks.

Her hands stopped glowing. She stared helplessly at the destruction she caused. She couldn’t hear, see or feel the man. Had she killed him? She wasn’t sure. His feet poked out of the smoke and his toes seemed to twitch, but she wasn’t sure, and the shock kept her tied to the ground. Her hands, now seemingly normal, were capable of such awful things. There was a reason she hadn’t used them for anything other than changing Matt’s perception. She should have kept it this way, and used her fists instead - what had she done?

The soft call of her name behind her broke through the alarm sounds in her head. “Eliza,” he said softly. A familiar voice.

Eliza pressed her back against the nearest wall, hands in front of her. “Don’t come near me,” she panted. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

She shied away when he tried to touch her again. He stopped halfway, his hand at level with her head, just lingering in the air. She stared at his fingers, his glove removed, and he offered his hand for her to take at her pace.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

She looked up through teary eyes, meeting his brown ones. The red mask lay next to him, his hair disheveled and sweaty as he smiled. He could tell what she had done, but he didn’t shy away. Still, the energy was hot in her veins and she was sure that if she felt threatened again, her hands would do the same to him. She wasn’t in control, the stone was. Her heart raced in her ear and she shivered, slouching against the bricks.

“Tell me, is he dead?” she asked.

He tilted his head in the man’s direction. “No,” he told her.

“Is he… dying?”

“No, he’s just got a few broken bones. Nothing serious or life-threatening. You didn’t kill him. He’s okay, but most importantly, you’re okay.”

His hand came closer. She winced, “No! Don’t- please, you’re just gonna get hurt. I can’t… I’m not in control, Matt. If you touch me, I might do the same thing to you. I can’t stop it.”

“Yes, you can.” Matt knelt before her, hand still extended and waiting for her to take the lifelines. “Look at me! Take my hand, let me prove to you that this is real. You’re not gonna hurt me, I just need you to calm down. I’m not mad,” he said, still smiling, “I’m here for you, okay? I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Her shaky hand slowly found its way into his. She took it, squeezed it, and held it tightly. His skin was warm and clammy, just like hers. His pulse beat strong and steady under the skin. The world didn’t end when she touched him. They were both still alive and it was real, no matter what her mind kept telling her.

“You feel me?” he asked.

She nodded, “Yes.”

“Good girl. There you go, see? Nothing happened. Told you, you’ve got this.”

He smiled, squeezing her hand again. Three times meant I love you. Another three translated to I have you. She wasn’t alone, not anymore, and there was no reason to be afraid anymore.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Eliza turned to look at the broken-down wall and the man underneath, but then Matt was suddenly there and pulled her head to the side, forcing her eyes back on him. The destruction site was fully covered by his broad frame.

“Look at me,” he reminded her, “are you okay?”

She nodded, the cut on her arm beginning to thud with the fading adrenaline. “I think so.” Her teeth ground and she hissed, “Ah!” Perhaps she wasn’t entirely okay.

His nostrils flared. He sniffed. Smelling the blood, he crawled forward. He took off the other glove as well and pressed both of his hands against the cut on her arm. He felt the skin and the bone shift. The flesh squished where he pushed down as the wound secreted more blood right into his hands. The scent of the copper was something all too familiar to him, and it was scary. Every time he smelled her blood now, he got flashbacks that brought the feeling of her lifeless weight in his arms right back to the front of his consciousness. If he tried hard enough, he could still feel the remains of her blood on his suit, and if he took a good whiff, he could smell it. No bleach in the world could remove the ghastly picture from his mind, and whenever she was hurt, he was only reminded once again of how badly things could turn out and how he had almost lost her not so long ago because of one reckless decision.

A soft breeze ran through his hair, pushing the sweaty strands back and to the side. He blinked the tears away, banning the memories and forcing them back where they came from. “You need stitches,” he stated. His jaw clenched, she could see it. He applied more pressure, an attempt to stop the bleeding. “Probably not that many, but you’re still losing a lot of blood, so…”

“I’m okay,” she reassured him. Physically, she was, at least.

“I know, just… if we wait any longer, it might get worse. And we need to get out of here before the cops come and see you like this.”

“You mean what I did.”

He still sat right in her line of vision, but she could imagine the sight. She imagined what it looked like behind him and what the police might think. She would become a criminal again, and this time she would let them arrest her. She deserved it. The Department Of Damage Control would come as soon as they saw her, but perhaps it was for the best.

Matt shook his head, tilting her chin up with his finger. Some of the blood got on her chin and he wiped it away, silently apologizing. “I won’t let them take you,” he said, “No matter what happens, they won’t touch you.”

“If you could see what I did,” she prompted.

“I still wouldn’t care. This has nothing to do with my blindness or how you think my love for you might make it worse. No, you did nothing wrong. You saved someone’s life and defended yourself. No one has the right to prosecute you for being yourself. They don’t know you, not like I do, not like your friends do.”

He brushed her hair back, followed by a careful tilt of his head in the direction of the Main Street. Her wide, teary eyes were on him, regret and shame dancing in them as if it was a competition. He pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering on the cold skin for a little longer than he planned, feeling her heart jump and the clench of her fingers around the fabric of his suit. She was scared, not just ashamed. But she wasn’t scared of him or the police, she was scared of herself, which was a far worse fate to suffer because she knew she wasn’t the only one feeling that way. She had seen it twice that night, and she could bear it no more.

“C’mon,” said Matt. “Let’s get you home. I’ll stitch you up, get you some dinner, warm you up… Can you stand?”

One of his arms wrapped around her waist already.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice monotone, reserved and possibly even dead inside.

He sighed softly, helping her limp body back to her feet. As soon as they stood, she wrapped her arms around his waist and placed her head against his chest. He hugged her tight, ignoring how her blood got onto his suit again. She was afraid if she didn’t hug him and he didn’t hug her back, she might fall apart.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

Eliza shivered against him. “I’m not sure if I’m okay.”

“I know, but that’s okay too.”

“How long have you been here?” she asked, every word coming with a labored breath in tow.

“Not long, five minutes, maybe,” he answered. “Heard the screams, smelled you and had to see if you’re alright.”

“Why didn’t you… step in?”

“Plain and simple, I trust you.”

“Oh.”

Maybe he had underestimated the situation. He applied more pressure to the wound. She hissed in response. “C’mon.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s get you home now.”

Walking through the roof access to his apartment, Eliza realized how tired she truly was. Her feet dragged over the wood of the stairs in a state of exhaustion. Her knees buckled. “Woah, easy,” Matt caught her just in time. He slipped an arm under her thighs and chose to carry her instead.

He set her down on the couch, silently searching for the first-aid kit and a towel. Feeling her skin shift again, he gnawed on the inside of his cheek.

While he stitched her up, she stared straight at the wall. Her head was empty, her body hulled in a fog. She couldn’t pinpoint what she was feeling. The shock had subsided. Instead, she felt nothing, not even guilt. The numbness hurt to the point she wanted nothing more than to feel the pain of the needle in her skin, but Matt was too good at what he did. Other than a few pinches, she felt nothing.

“He could have seriously hurt you,” he murmured as he threaded the needle through her parted skin. “This could have gone much worse. I can’t…” He swallowed. “I can’t lose you again.”

She didn’t answer.

“You need to be more careful. Short-sleeves aren’t fighting material.”

“I don’t have a suit anymore,” her answer came flat.

“I know.”

“I’m not an Avenger anymore.”

“I know that, too. But you can still help people,” he said, “That isn’t determined by-”

“I snapped,” Eliza blurted without trying to. The voice that had once been void of emotions started to display the true weight of the words on her soul.

Matt opened his mouth, but he wasn’t sure what to say.

“He attacked me and I just… snapped,” she said. “I hurt him because I wanted to. I hurt him because I was angry. I did this. If he had died, his blood would have been on my hands tonight.”

He shook his head, patting down the wound with a cotton swab. His eyes remained soft, though he swallowed harder than before. “I’m sure you knew what you were doing,” he said.

“I didn’t. I wasn’t in control. Or, I was. I was in control of my anger and I just let it happen because I felt like… I felt so… I’m scared, Matt.” She doubted ‘scared’ cut it close, but it was the word that made the most sense. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I can’t control my powers when it comes down to it, when I know I should but I don’t. I thought I could control the anger, I thought I could control the extent of what I’m capable of, but when I feel threatened or angry and am convinced that the other person deserves punishment, I… I need to balance it out. God, what is wrong with me? I’m not a fucking judge or executioner! I’m a person.”

“Hey, no. Nothing’s wrong with you. You didn’t kill him, you only knocked him down pretty good. You did nothing worse than I would have. This wasn’t… this wasn’t a vile or evil act, baby. Far from it. You saved a helpless woman from suffering a terrible fate tonight.”

Her lip quivered and a tear slipped down her cheek. The dam opened a crack, at first, but it soon broke in two when he spoke again.

“Hey,” Matt cooed, finishing the last stitch to take her head into his hands and hug her tightly to his chest. “Don’t cry. Nothing happened.”

“No, but I’m a monster!”

“Stop it. You’re not a monster.” He used his free hand to run it through her hair. “You didn’t hurt him any more than he deserved. Deep down, you knew that he would never get what he deserved if he went through the system, so you allowed yourself to let go a little more. You let the anger take over because he deserved to be punished, but you didn’t kill him. You wouldn’t cross that line, not again. Deep down, you know what you’re doing. I know you do. You’re far from being a monster, sweetheart. Monsters act only to be vile. They hurt good people. The man you fought was a monster. You're not.”

She shook her head, trying to escape his grasp. Her attempts were to no avail. He held her tightly until she stopped struggling and fell into his arms completely.

“You saved that woman’s life. You saved her from getting raped by a man that would have done anything to get away with it, including stabbing her to death. You are a hero. You saw someone who needed help and you decided to jump in. That’s selfless, you understand? It’s not evil, it’s a good thing. It’s something only someone with a good heart can do.”

“I wasn’t in control,” she whimpered. “Not really. My anger was, I… I can’t…”

“I know, and that’s okay. We’ll find a way. I don’t know much about your powers, but we’ll find a way to make this easier for you. We’ll find a way to help you gain some sense of control. You have friends who can help you, you have me, and we have Fogwells to train. I just… you’re not a monster. You’re still a fighter, a hero, and a good person.” He tilted her head up, brushing her wet cheeks. “Don’t think that way about yourself. You’re so good, baby. So good.”

“No…” she sobbed again. “No, you’re wrong.”

“I’m not wrong,” he said. “Trust me, I love you so much, and nothing you do could change that. Even in the eyes of God, you are good because you chose to save someone’s life while putting your own in danger. It’s what saviors do. You are a savior.”

“I didn’t mean to do what I did. I didn’t mean to hurt him like that. I didn’t care what happened to him, which is the scary part, not my powers themselves. I don’t know what’s happening to me, Matt, and it’s scary. I thought I had it all under control,” said Eliza, “but I don’t, and I don’t understand why because it worked when I made you see. And it worked beyond that. I haven’t exploded ever since… I haven’t exploded like that ever since I reconciled with my father before everything went to shit. I just… I’m so tired and my arm hurts and it scares me that I don’t even feel fucking guilty for any of this. I shouldn’t act out. It’s dangerous. My powers are dangerous, especially in the hands of someone who doesn’t know what she’s dealing with. I know everything and nothing at all. I… I…” she hiccuped and the breath got knocked out of her lungs. The oxygen started to burn away the skin in her chest and she wheezed again, her body riddled with aftershocks.

Matt shook his head, pressed a gauze to the wound and she took it while he searched for a bandage in the kit. “One step at a time,” he said. “You’re not a monster, Eliza, and you’re not dangerous. In the hands of anyone else, your powers would be catastrophic, but you? You’re a good person, and I know you can control it. The stone is in your blood, your body knows what to do. You’re just too much in your head, you have been ever since you came back, and that’s okay. You need to get used to this again, I know you can because I know you, baby, and no one’s as strong and capable as you are.”

She sniffled. “How do you know?”

He wrapped the bandage around her bicep and secured it with tape. “I have a feeling. We’ll find a way to learn more about your powers somehow,” he said, “but not now. Not today. Today was a lot and you need a break.”

“I need to be in control of my mind to be in control of what’s inside of me, but I don’t… the anger is so strong, Matthew, and it makes everything so much more powerful.” Her fingers tingled. “Even now, I feel lightheaded.” The color traveled from her palms to her fingertips. She sighed, knowing her eyes had changed color again.

Matt felt the air shift and the familiar jolt of electricity his senses sent rolling through his body whenever she used her powers around him traveled from his neck down his spine.

He reached for her hand, but she shied away. “Don’t,” she said, her voice tired instead of a warning, and she got up. Her feet pointed toward the bedroom door.

Her mind reeled with unspoken thoughts that sounded less like English words and more like gibberish. Her heart was racing in time with her breathing and the more she thought about it, the harder it got to keep her hands where they were. She wanted to run to him, but she caught sight of her reflection in the milky glass and she knew that if she touched him, she would hurt him. At least her head kept telling her so, and so she chose to be cautious. She chose to keep him safe, the one promise she would always keep, no matter how far gone down the rabbit hole she was. There was no one, not even Happy or her therapist that could understand what possessed her, the power she held in her hands, and the cravings it caused within her. She didn’t crave drugs, she craved the world, she craved things she couldn’t quite understand, and it brought her back to all those weeks ago when she had been just as clueless. The state of helplessness was exhausting.

He made a pained sound in the back of his throat when she ushered away and back into her cocoon.

“I thought we were over this,” he said.

Eliza crossed her arms. “I don’t want to hurt you. Why don’t you get that?” she said.

“You won’t hurt me, sweetheart.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You’re not as out of control as you think you are.”

“You don’t know that!” The billboard outside of the apartment complex flickered. It reflected red instead of the purple it had been before. She stared at her hand and then at the plain red picture that was projected onto the big screen. The change in static made Matt cringe, the sound sharp and piercing through his eardrum.

She sighed. Part of her did it on purpose, the other part wasn’t sure what came over her. She tried to fight the urge to push him away, but it was getting harder by the minute.

He got up. “Eliza…” he reached for her, but she wasn’t where he expected her to be.

“I just need to be alone right now,” she whispered. tears clouded both her vision and her voice. “Don’t come too close to me or I might hurt you, too.”

She burst through the bedroom door and closed it behind her, just in time before the tears burst out of her and she landed sobbing on the mattress. He could hear everything and it shattered his heart to pieces. He pressed his palm against the glass, then his forehead, and he listened as she ran out of breath again and again as she cried into their shared pillow.

“Please, sweetheart,” he said. “Don’t shut me out again. Don’t close the door.”

He could have easily opened the door, but she didn’t want him to. She locked herself away for a reason, and he had to grant her the privacy she required. At least for an acceptable amount of time, but not too long as if to agree with her that it was okay to push him away. He didn’t want her to, and she promised she wouldn’t, not again. All he could do at this point was hope that his words would do anything.

She shuddered and disappeared underneath the covers, hiding from herself like a scared little girl.

When she didn’t answer, he sighed. “Alright, I’m just gonna stay here,” he said and slid down the stone wall next to the bedroom door. “You let me know when you’re ready to talk.”

“Go away, Matt,” he heard her cry from the other side.

Matt chuckled. “Not a chance, baby. I’m not leaving you. You know why?”

She gave a disapproving grunt.

“You don’t scare me. You’re just scared, and that’s okay. I’m scared too, all the damn time, but we can fix this. I know we can. You just have to let me in. Tell me what’s bothering you other than this stupid fight so I can try to understand why you’re so sad.”

He was met with a heavy silence. Her breathing had slowed, but the occasional sob still wrecked her body and she shivered heavily every time it did.

“I read the letter,” Eliza admitted eventually. “Tony’s letter, I mean.”

“And?” he asked.

“Tony’s an asshole.” She chuckled, a tear slipping down her cheek, and she added, “But I was the bigger asshole.”

“Do you want to forgive him?”

“I know I want to make things right, but I don’t know how. I don’t know a lot of things,” she said.

“You don’t have to know everything. That’s not how life works.”

“How did I end up like this then?”

“Like what?”

“Broken and screwed up.”

“We’re all a little screwed up,” he said.

“I’m a lot screwed up,” she said.

“Yeah, me too.”

Another tear slid down her cheek. “The storm inside of me is real. Are you sure I’m not just a monster locked in a cage of her own making?”

“Yeah,” his palm landed on the milky glass again, “I’m sure. I know you, I know what the woman I love is capable of, and evil is not something I would use to describe you. So you’re not a monster, you’re a hero, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says because I see you better than anyone else can, Eliza. You keep telling me I’m good… well, you’re better. So much better. You’re good at heart and that cancels out everything else.”

“But how can you be so sure?”

“Let’s just say, there has to be a reason you were born with such great power. God… no, the universe chose you to survive the exposure for a reason. I’m sure of that. You just need to learn how to live with yourself before you can control this storm you’re talking about. That’s a big burden to carry, and you’ve just started to figure it all out, so just grant yourself some more time.”

The mattress shifted. Her bare feet patted against the floor and stopped before the door. Instead of opening it though, she slid down the glass and pressed her back against his, only a small barrier between them now. She pressed her palm where his lay, sighing at the way his shadow visibly tensed.

Eliza ground her teeth. “Tony gave me the key to my father’s apartment. The one I, uh, found after I wrote you guys that letter,” she told him. “He said there are things my father wanted me to find. In case of his death, he had this fail-safe that sent Tony all that was necessary, and he did, so he forwarded it to me. I just… he’s trying to make up for it, but I can’t even think about that. I’m angrier at my father right now for twisting Tony’s views, but I’m also… I want to know what he left me. I need to know. But I’m so angry. I’m so fucking angry, Matt. All I could think about tonight… fuck! I was weak tonight.”

“I should have never let you leave alone,” he said.

“Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. Sister Maggie caught me before I could make a serious mistake.”

“Yeah, but it was my job to be there for you and I wasn’t.” He wished he could touch her. “I will be forever grateful to Sister Maggie, but that doesn’t change the fact that I left you alone.”

“It was my choice, Matt. Stop putting all the blame on yourself. I can’t… I can’t do this right now. So please, just… don’t.”

She leaned her head back against the glass and he did the same, whispering the softest apology into the dark of the night.

Goosebumps erupted on her skin. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to be herself anymore. “Matt,” she murmured.

He tilted his head in the direction of the door. “Yes, love?”

“Can you stay with me?”

He sighed. “Of course, I can.”

“I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts.”

Because her thoughts were far more terrifying than her powers ever could be.

“You don’t have to be,” he said.

She sighed, reaching out a hand to rest on the glass again, turning so she could lean against the door completely, and she listened to his breathing and heartbeat faintly on the other side. It was the most she could do. He was so close yet so far away. She wished she could ignore the looming voice in her head and just be normal, but she was afraid of what might happen if she ignored her most primal nature and told the stone to shut up. The last thing she wanted was for Matt to suffer because of her.

“Matt, do you think,” she began again, “that everyone’s in danger as long as I’m alive?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “God, no,” he said.

“You think I was born to be a monster?”

“No.” He couldn’t even put pressure behind his words. He was so in pain from hearing her ask these questions, not sure what to do, what to say or think. He just sat there, hoping she took his words to heart.

Eliza traced the condensation of her breath on the glass. “Then why did I end up with this… this curse?” she said. “Because it doesn’t seem fair that I get a frozen and broken heart while my mother died and everyone else… Everyone else is normal.”

He sighed, taking the same position she had, his temple pressed against the door and his hand to the glass. “You said it yourself that the infinity stones were creations of the universe, right?”

“Yes.”

“So maybe you survived because one day, something big might come for us, something a man in an iron suit or a Hulk can’t fight and only Someone as powerful as one of these stones can fight that threat. Maybe you are the universe’s fail safe. You’re a protector, not a destroyer. You survived for a reason, and that reason may come one day. When it does, you’ll know. Until then, you have to believe me that God and the universe have their reasons to be giving only certain people special abilities. Our accidents both had deeper meanings, I think,” he said, “and we’re both on the right path to figuring that out, but especially you, my love. I’m convinced that you will do big things one day, and the world will thank you.”

She was quiet. She didn’t even breathe for a moment. He listened in. A soft sob broke from her chest, then another salty tear rolled down her cheek. She exhaled, clenching her fist and holding tighter onto the glass door. “Okay,” she said, her voice the softest tune of a pretend-whisper. “Thank you.”

He smiled. Her breathing slowed, as did her heartbeat and her sobs seemed to subside with every passing second that she listened to him on the other side.

“You think you can sleep now?” he asked. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do much more tonight.

“I think so, yeah. But not on the bed, I want to stay on the floor. It’s harder here. The mattress feels too soft.”

“That’s okay, I just want you to rest. Can you do that for yourself?”

Eliza nodded. “And Matthew?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” she said.

Matt chuckled, tracing his fingers over where he could feel her warmth through the bedroom door. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

Even in her current state, she would never go to sleep without telling him how she felt, and her love for him was ever-present and never-ending.

She stirred back to life when she felt a hand on her thigh, rubbing gentle circles over the bare skin to coax her out of unconsciousness. Eliza scrunched her nose, shifting on the bed. Once again, he had carried her in the middle of the night. Her back was more than grateful.

As she blinked the sleep out of her eyes and against the sun streaming in through the window, she realized that she was no longer wearing her skirt but Matt’s Columbia shirt, freshly washed and dried, and a pair of shorts he got from her collection.

Her hands reached above her head as she stretched her aching muscles. The cut on her arm screamed. With a hiss, she brought the limbs back down, pressing a hand to the bandage.

Matt sat at her feet where they were pulled up to her chest, a blanket draped over her. He took such good care of her, always, it made her so incredibly thankful for having him. No one else would have done it for her. He got her changed, put a blanket over her, let her sleep in until he finished with coffee and breakfast, and only then did he wake her with gentle touches.

He smiled, though his head was tilted in her direction and his nostrils wider than usual, suggesting he was taking a whiff of whatever was in the air. Copper, blood.

“You opened the cut on your arm,” he stated.

She looked down at her now blood-soaked fingers from where the bandage had turned red. The pain turned thudding and burning. She hissed, “Fuck!”

“I was gonna say good morning, but that didn’t age so well.” He chuckled softly, his voice still gruff from waking up and the lack of caffeine in his system. He put the coffee mug with her favorite beverage down and reached for the first-aid kit that was still laid next to the table. “Sit up for me,” he said. “Let me check your stitches.”

He removed the bloody bandage, placing his palm flat next to the cut. The skin shifted, but it was only in one place. She had healed enough to be removing the stitches, so that was what he did. She winced when he pulled the first one out. He gave an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, I wish you could have had time to properly wake up, but the damage is pretty extensive.”

“Do I need new stitches?” she asked, her voice even groggier than his.

He shook his head. “Butterfly bandage will suffice if you don’t make any fast movements and tear the cut open again. You gotta be more careful when you’re hurt.”

“Yeah, I tend to forget I’m not a vampire who doesn’t bleed.”

Matt dabbed the wound down with some disinfectant, placing the butterfly bandage on top, then returned with a cold towel for her to press against it to help with the swelling he could feel around the bone.

“That’s ‘cause vampires are dead,” he said with a cheeky grin, “Can’t bleed when your heart isn’t beating.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“I’m just saying. You’re not dead, and I prefer it that way. Now,” he replaced the bloody tissues in his hand with the coffee mug and handed it to her, “I’ve made you some coffee. Take it as a peace offering for making you pop your stitches.”

She chuckled. “Thank you, very considerate.”

“Breakfast’s on the table. When you’re ready to get up, we can eat.”

Her forehead dropped forward against his. He caught her by the back of her neck, holding her close to him. They breathed into each other’s mouths, connecting on a much deeper level than was visible on the outside.

“I’m sorry about last night,” said Eliza.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I- I have no idea what came over me, but I promised not to push you away again and last night, I did, so I’m sorry about that.”

“You needed privacy,” he said, “I’m the last person who’d deny you some time for yourself.”

“It wasn’t just privacy, Matt, I was scared and I still am and I… God, I don’t even know anymore.”

He captured her lips with his, telling her, “Don’t talk, it’s okay,” before he deepened the kiss and knocked all air out of her lungs.

Happily, she sighed against his lips, leaning further into him. Their kisses soon grew heated and Eliza swung her leg over his lap. One of his arms wrapped around her hips to get close to him faster. She rolled her hips, chest against chest, and her hand began to stroke over the white shirt that adorned his torso, feeling the muscles underneath his shoulders and his pecks.

He broke the kiss to ask, “What do you want?” Breathless and his cock already straining against his sweatpants.

Her chuckle sounded dark in his mouth. “What does it look like?” she said. Their lips clashed again, as did their teeth and tongues. They fought for dominance, but Matt was bound to win the battle.

“I don’t know.”

She snorted, grinding her hips down on him again, his cock brushing against her hot core that hid beneath layers of fabric. He growled.

“Then what does it feel like?”

He bit down on her bottom lip, pulling it toward him as she leaned back slightly to look into his hazel eyes. She had no choice but to lean down and kiss him again, hard and needy, returning to the sloppy movements of her hips against his. His fingers were sure to leave bruises on her hip from how hard he held onto her, but she didn’t mind. If anything, she wanted him to hold her even tighter and leave as many reminders of him as humanly possible. She would gladly carry him around with her anywhere she went, not just his cum but the imprints of his hands and mouth as well. The beard burn from the night before was still heavy on her thighs, and it would stay there, she decided, even long after she healed because he would do it again. She needed that part of him more than she needed to breathe. With him, her body was alive either way, and her mind finally found peace.

When his kisses traveled to her neck, Matt finally moved from grabbing her hips to the hem of her shirt. “Off,” he instructed.

She lifted her arms and allowed him to pull them over her head. The Columbia shirt hit the floor, the cold air hitting her nipples. She gasped which quickly turned into a moan at the stimulation. He wrapped his lips around one of them, sucking at her breast as if his life depended on it, and his hand went to squeeze the other one, massaging and pulling at the neglected nipple every once in a while. His tongue managed to find spots on her breast that drove her crazy. Her panties were soaked at this point and she kept rutting against his clothed cock like a maniac, the kisses, and licks to her nipples almost too much. She clenched around nothing. He pinched the sensitive nub between his fingers and she cried out, holding onto his hair.

He knew exactly where to use his mouth for the lord’s work. She was the queen laid upon the altar and he worshipped at her feet, doing what his religion told him to do with divine beings - worship them. There was only one God every time they laid together, and it wasn’t the catholic one he prayed to, the one far up above; no, she was his Goddess in moments like these and he did what any catholic good boy would do. He gave her the attention she deserved and did anything she wanted. He couldn’t help himself. Making her feel good seemed like his version of forgiveness, and he would indulge in that kind of penance for as long as he still could.

The scent of her arousal was thick in the air. He chuckled at the uptick of her breath, the small moans, and her hands clawing at his shoulder.

“Fucking- God, Matthew,” she panted into his ear this time and he shivered, cock twitching and hitting her core again with every grind of her pelvis.

It felt so good, she stared into the abyss and the sirens sang for her to jump. She was high off the feelings; his lips around her nipple, his hand squeezing her breast, and the almost non-existent friction on her cunt other than a soft breeze of air - her legs shook as she held onto what she couldn’t quite believe was a real orgasm.

“Sweetie,” he purred against her skin, wet from his saliva.

She gasped when he squeezed the other nipple again, turning it at an interesting angle that made her whimper once again. “Matthew,” she said.

“Don’t think too much about it, just feel good. Do it for me, I’ve got you.”

With a particularly skilled twist of his tongue and with that, her nipple, she dug her nails into his shirt and cried out his name in the most delicious, orgasmic tone. He held her by the waist as she jumped off the precipice, letting him give her another push before her muscles locked up and she was a moaning mess in his arms. Riding out her orgasm against nothing but his lips pressing gentle kisses to the skin around her nipples now, paying close attention to giving her breasts some much-needed love, she slowly stepped out of the fog.

“Oh,” Eliza sighed.

Matt grinned cheekily, smacking the tit he didn’t suck on before he straightened back up to kiss her. “You didn’t know that was possible, huh?” he said.

She shook her head.

He forced the shorts down her legs. The panties she wore ripped with one tug from his side. She gasped again when his hand collided with her bare ass cheeks. She was completely naked now while he was still dressed, his hair disheveled, lips swollen, and his smirk was never the less enticing.

He pressed his lips to her ear, whispering sweetly, “Can I make you feel good one more time?”

“Yes,” she answered.

He slipped his middle finger into her hole. She shivered, her walls wet enough to welcome him with open arms. He thrust the digit in once and buried it to the hilt inside of her.

“That’s my girl. Always so wet and needy. Was that enough for you? You think you can take my cock now or do you wanna cum on my fingers?”

Her hips bucked, trying to get his finger to move against the spot she could feel him resting against.

She whimpered into his ear, “Want you.”

“You have me. Tell me, what exactly do you want?”

“Your- fuck!” He curled his finger.

Matt chuckled into her ear. “What was that?” he said.

“Not your fingers,” she managed to choke out, though she kept grinding on his hand.

“Alright then.” His finger slipped out of her cunt and shoved it into her mouth. She tasted her arousal off his skin, gagging when he pushed down on her tongue to get deeper down her throat. “Don’t choke,” he mused, “Suck.”

She breathed through her nose. His skin began to taste bitter, but she didn’t care. She sucked on the digit until tears were streaming down her throat, and he decided he had teased her enough. He pulled out and her eyes rolled back, lips glistening with saliva and what was left of her juices.

“Beautiful,” Matt whispered before forcing her down by the hair and kissing her.

Their tongues met, teeth digging into bottom lips. There was no telling where one began and the other ended. They became a tangled mess of lips, spit, and limbs. Her hips ground against his clothed rection and he met her feverish movements, matching the desperation in her touch and the way her body ached for him.

“Matt, please…” Eliza could only whine when he nibbled at her jaw.

“What do you need?”

“I need you to fuck me,” she said.

“Oh, yeah?”

He pulled his pants down enough to release his aching cock. She licked her lips. His leaking tip rested against his stomach and she ground down on him, sliding along his shaft to coat him in her wetness. He stilled her movements with his hand on her hip. “Let me do the work,” he told her.

Matt rolled her onto her back, connecting their lips in a heated kiss. He lined himself up with her entrance, hooking her leg around his waist, and thrust forward. He buried himself to the hilt inside of her, not a single inch left. She gasped, back arching into him, and his lips slipped from her mouth to her neck.

He stilled, waiting for her approval, and she squeezed his biceps in reassurance. He took that as a sign to start moving.

Her hands wandered with shallow gasps. Her nails raked down his clothed back and under his shirt, pulling it up and off by the hem. The white shirt hit the floor and she dove in without wasting a second to taste his skin everywhere she could.

He rocked his hips back and forth in a steady rhythm, meeting all the spots he knew drove her crazy in the best way to pull soft whines and moans from her lips that were attached to his shoulders and neck, licking a long stripe over his pulse point.

She pulled at the strands of his hair, forcing him down to meet her desperate tongue. His fingers left crescent moon indentations in the Skin of her thigh as he pulled it further up, angling his thrusts so deep, she cried out and followed the wave of stars into the oblivion of what she suspected to be heaven. She had been there a couple of times before, always in his arms, and every time she found herself so blissed out, she missed nothing but his touch.

There was no rush as he kept pounding into her at a gentle, reserved pace. He made love to her in a way Matt never thought he was capable of. Their lips stayed attached and their hands began to wander over the other’s body, touching every inch they would find with their fingers. He memorized her skin, every stretch mark, scar, and crevice and she did the same, tracing her fingers over his scars and the faint hairs on his chest that had grown significantly but not yet long enough for her liking.

His kisses traveled from her mouth to her face, licking and biting over her skin. She tasted sweet as always, slightly salty with sweat and tears, and the scent of his sheets lingered on her, transforming into a distinctive scent that he stored away in his brain. He kissed her forehead, cradling her head into the crook of his neck as he picked up his thrusts, the tension in his stomach too much to bear, and with how hard her cunt was squeezing around the sensitive veins of his cock as he kept hitting her most pleasurable spot, he could tell she was just as close.

She moaned into his shoulder, biting down on the skin, and he reached between their bodies to catch her clit. He started with slow circles, wanting to savor this as long as possible. Slow and steady wins the race, and the movement of his fingers felt far more intense like this, with him being so gentle and attentive as he took care of her body as if she were holy. He worshipped her, put her pleasure first, and made sure to drag every last sound out of her mouth before he even thought about himself.

Eliza licked her lips, forcing his concentrated face in height with her own. His eyes were hooded and slightly closed, but she didn’t care. She kissed him, nibbling at his bottom lip, and traced the sweaty brown hair out of his beautiful face. His thrusts faltered and he drove in at a different angle, massaging her g-spot and her inner walls perfectly with the tip of his cock, and she felt him twitch again. He was holding off, trying not to be the first to cum, but then she started meeting his thrusts and moaning directly into his ear and he had to grab the headboard for support. His self-control started lacking.

“Matthew,” she breathed his name, lips moving from his to his ear.

He grabbed her face forcefully and kissed her instead. The tone of her voice made the tingling in his stomach and the intense pressure in his balls even worse. She was so warm and tight, wet and clenching around him like a vice that held him as a form of protection from the world, and the more he thrust, the faster his orgasm seemed to approach. He had it right there. He held his long-awaited release and it was starting to grow painful. She needed more and he had to give it to her. If he came now, he wouldn’t forgive himself. But damn her, he thought, because they had sex so many times, she knew his signs and his body and he couldn’t keep the truth from her. He couldn’t deny that his strength wasn’t as great as before and that he would disappoint her; she knew.

She locked her legs around his hips, clawed her nails into his ass, and clenched around him. She was telling him silently that it was okay. Her body invited him to give her his all, but he tried not to let the selfish voice in his head tell him to give in.

She moaned his name again, shivering under his touch and the soft caress of his lips on hers. His finger still drummed against her clit, but he had lost momentum and pressure.

Eliza wrapped her hand around his throat, squeezing slightly and forcing him deeper. “It’s okay,” she said.

“No,” Matt shook his head.

“Yes.” Her heel dug into his lower back, giving him no space to escape. “Let go,” her voice reverberated in his ear. “Now.”

He tried not to, but she left him no choice. He couldn’t have pulled out even if he wanted to. His hips stuttered and he buried his head in the crook of her neck to muffle the whine that slipped his lips when he came. His cum spurted out of him and painted her walls with his seed. The fog overtook him. The endorphins and pure pleasure of his orgasm rendered him useless. He held tightly onto her, needing his lifeline to keep him grounded or he would have fallen. It was intense. It was amazing but it was intense, and his legs gave out.

He clawed at the sheets. The orgasmic haze cleared, hyper-aware of his cum that started to trickle out of her and down his shaft, and the hot sensation made him hiss. Even the silk of the sheets seemed to burn into his skin.

“I’m sorry,” he panted and he pulled out, flopping down on the mattress next to her and turning on her side.

The shame was a cruel monster inside his head, and it paired with the guilt that tainted his bloodstream. His muscles still twitched and he started to burn even brighter, his vision turning into an inferno and the sweat on his skin turning into acid. He wasn’t sure where it came from, but suddenly, his throat tensed up, he couldn’t swallow, and then the tears started to make their descent down his cheeks. The wave crashed in without warning, the shame wrapping a noose around his neck and the guilt scraping the skin of his bones. He felt every last cut of the knife, and the contractions of his soul as he kept whispering the same apology over and over again, “I’m so sorry.”

He was sure he cursed God. He was sure he prayed and thanked him at the same time that he couldn’t see, but he was sure he could smell and hear how disappointed she was. She was hot, her skin sticky and her heart beat fast and loud. She hated him, he was sure of that. He put himself first without asking. He went over her head and put her pleasure second, and then he turned away and cried like a coward. His head hated him and so he started to loathe himself. He promised to be good - he hadn’t been good. He wasn’t good.

“I’m so sorry, forgive me,” he cried, his arms curled under his head and the rest of his body curled into a tight ball. He was shivering, but not from the orgasm.

The silky fabric of the blanket found its way over his body. It stuck to the sweat on his skin, but he pulled it further up nonetheless.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

Eliza wasn’t sure what happened, but as he cried and apologized as if he had just done something terrible, she could only watch in horror as Matt folded in on himself. He was riddled with catholic guilt, she knew that, but she never thought it would extend this far. She had never seen him like this before and it was scary as much as it was heartbreaking - she wasn’t scared of him, she was scared of what his mind might have told him to make him feel this way. He recoiled from her because he was ashamed. He refused her touch because he was ashamed, and he apologized because he was ashamed. He hadn’t done anything. She wasn’t mad, far from it. He was too caught up in his mind to listen to her signs.

She reached out slowly, not sure if he wanted her to touch him. “Hey, no,” she asked, “What are you apologizing for?”

He flinched when she touched him.

“You don’t have to…” he swallowed. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… God, I’m so sorry.”

When he didn’t pull away, she wrapped her arms around his back fully and hugged him. “Matthew, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything.”

“No, I-”

“Matt, please, nothing happened. Don’t…”

His body was wrecked by another set of sobs. She whimpered.

“Don’t cry, please. There is no reason for you to be ashamed.”

“I used you,” he said.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I used you for my own pleasure and I didn’t even have the guts to finish it. I have every reason to be ashamed. I…”

She hugged him tighter. At first, he fought, but then he took her hands and melted into her touch further, not sure if he liked the fire she lit within him or hated it, but he knew that he needed her touch because it kept him alive when he felt like dying. He needed to hold onto something or he was sure he would slip away. She cooed into his ear, stroking her hands over where she had his forearms trapped, and nuzzled her nose against his cheek.

“I don’t need to cum to enjoy sex,” she murmured into his ear. “I enjoyed myself anyway. Matt, I…”

Eliza pursed her lips, gently rolling the man onto his back. He hid behind his hands, wiping at the tears that just kept coming. She smoothed her hands over his tense biceps. “Sometimes, sex doesn’t work the way we plan it to, and that’s okay. I don’t think I have to tell you that.”

He hiccuped.

“Have you never…” Her eyebrows furrowed when he said nothing. “You’ve never allowed yourself to cum first?” she said.

Matt shook his head weakly. His cheeks flushed, the embarrassment clouding his mind and his senses, and he tried to pull away from her again. She forced him to look at her, holding his hands close to her chest. She smiled, suddenly relieved, and the softest of laughs passed her lips.

“Are you crying because you feel guilty that I didn’t cum?”

“Let no one seek his own good, but the good of his neighbor,” he recited.

“Yes, but… Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

He scoffed.

“Point is,” she said, forcing his face in her direction again, “There is no reason for you to feel ashamed or expect me to resent you just because you couldn’t hold your orgasm. I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me, you didn’t do anything. In fact, I encouraged you to let go, Matt. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself just because your good catholic brain thinks he needs to serve everyone but himself. I don’t always need to cum first or at all, baby. I would mind if you didn’t care,” she told him, “but you’re literally crying right now, which means a lot to me that you care this badly, but please stop beating yourself up over something so… so normal. You do not have to please everyone all the time, Matthew. It’s okay. Shit happens. Sex goes wrong, and plans change, but that’s okay. And, I mean, I wouldn’t call this gone wrong. I liked it.”

His eyes fluttered close at the gentle touch on his cheek. The tears stopped falling, but he was still shaking.

“Hey,” she kissed one of the freckles on his chest, “Can you talk to me, at least? So I know you’re okay.”

Matt sniffled. “I’m sorry,” he said.

She scolded, “Stop apologizing.”

“No, I’m sorry you didn’t cum, and I’m sorry for pulling away like that.”

“It’s okay,” Eliza shushed him. “Just don’t scare me like that again, okay?”

“I just feel so guilty…” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat before he added, “I love you so much. I really don’t deserve you.”

“That’s not true. You have no reason to feel guilty.”

She laid down on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her in an instant when he felt her close to him.

“I love you too,” she said. “More than anything.”

The pulse between her legs drummed against his thigh. He stiffened. His hand slid lower, over her shoulder blades and ass cheeks, before he slipped it under the sheets to find her neglected cunt, still wet and sticky from his cum. She smelled like him.

“Matt,” said Eliza, catching his hand in the act. This was not what she intended. “I told you, it’s okay that I didn’t…”

“You were so close,” he stated. “Let me finish what I started.”

“It’s okay, I’m not even that horny any- fuck!”

He dragged a finger through the wetness between her folds, his cum and her arousal coating his tips, then rubbed it over her clit and slipped it right into her tight, abused hole.

Matt kissed her temple, his fingers beginning their expert thrusts. “Let me take care of you,” he said.

“I suppose I could…”

His thumb joined her clit as the other two digits scissored her, stretched her out, and pushed against her g-spot whenever he curled them. Her hips lazily matched his strokes. The position seemed uncomfortable, especially for him, but he reignited the desire in her stomach and since he stopped crying and offered like the gentleman he was… all Eliza knew was that she needed to cum. Now that he was already on it, she didn’t want him to stop. She could have easily lived without an orgasm before his fingers slipped back inside of her - now she had no choice but to comply with the magic of his hands as she kept grinding her pelvis against his fingers.

“Keep rocking your hips like that, love. There you go. Make yourself cum. You deserve it.”

His cum moved even deeper inside of her with every thrust. Her hips grew more desperate, she started moving faster and so did his thumb, applying more pressure to her clit. He listened to the blood rushing under her skin and her heartbeat picking up the pace again. Her nails clawed into his skin in need of leverage and she moaned, sucking one of his nipples into her mouth. His free hand moved to her hair, giving her the comfort she needed to let herself go completely.

Her lower stomach moved along his cock and he was getting more than hard again with every sweet sound that reached his ears. He grunted when she applied more pressure, the tip of his cock as sensitive as ever when it got caught against the blanket.

She stopped grinding on his fingers. “Wait,” she exhaled.

He stopped. “What? You okay?”

“Yeah, fine, just…” She sat up, sliding the covers off his body. “Do you think you can, uh, go again?” she asked with a glimpse at his hard-on.

Matt swallowed.

“I just want to feel you inside of me. Please, Matthew.”

His fingers slipped from her cunt. He took them into his mouth, tasting her and himself on the tips of his fingers. He sighed. Her hands rested on his thighs, wide eyes looking up at him expectantly. Her walls pulsated, desperate to feel his cock inside of her again, desperate to cum with him filling her up again.

Hesitantly, he nodded. He would hold back this time, no matter how much it hurt. He would let her cum again and again, as many times as she wanted before he would even think about letting himself cum.

He angled his hands on her hips to help her move up and over his pelvis, lining his cock up with her entrance. She threw her head back when she finally sank down on him. She didn’t need to adjust, she only lowered herself down on him until he was all the way inside and instantly started to rock back and forth with his cock deep inside of her.

He pushed his head into the pillow. His thumb moved back to her clit and he continued the gentle abuse until her thighs shook around his hips and her movements grew sloppy. Her palm rested flat against his scarred chest, the other holding onto the wrist that was between her legs, stimulating her in all the right ways and places.

She could grasp the orgasm again, it was right there, right where she needed him most, and he started to thrust into her from below. He hit her g-spot.

“Fuck, Matthew, I-”

Eliza couldn’t possibly finish her sentence. He caught her by the neck, her thighs locking around his hips and her cunt squeezing his cock tightly. She came, crying softly, and his fingers tightened around her pulse point. She shook, quivering, and her clit pulsated from where his thumb still rubbed against it. Her voice got lost on her, she could only whimper and whine. The thrust he met hers with eased up, her orgasm dragging on for minutes before the wave finally started to subside and retreat back into the ocean of pleasure that left her lightheaded and happy, all tension having fallen off her shoulders, and the minutes before only a distant blur in her head.

She sighed happily.

“Was that penance enough?” he asked. The flush on his cheeks had traveled to his chest again, the sight of his something to be photographed and hung up on the wall as an artistic masterpiece.

She chuckled, stroking his abs. “Partly,” she said.

“What do you mean partly?”

“Well,” she lifted her hips as much as possible, “someone’s still hard.” His cock slipped out of her and slapped against his stomach, emphasizing her point.

“Sweetheart, I already…” Matt swallowed thickly when she sat back down on him, his tip bumping her clit, and they both jolted at the overstimulation. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, but she had already started using the wetness between them to her advantage.

She slid back and forth on his cock, granting herself the sweetest friction of his shaft against her clit and her puffy folds. The swollen bundle of nerves twitched with every stroke and it added to the knot that was quick to build again.

“Give me one more and we’re even,” she purred sweetly, picking up the pace and his disapproving grunt turned into a strangled moan. His pre-cum added to the cum trickling out of her and all of her arousal, causing an obscene cacophony of sounds to fill the room that already smelled of sex, tears, and catholic guilt.

“You know I can deal without a second o-oh, fuck!”

“Two for two. It’s only fair. Now,” she grabbed his hand and forced it back around her throat, “choke me with those beautifully thick fingers of yours while I fuck myself on your cock.”

He growled, tightening his fist so tightly around her throat, she gurgled and saw stars. Matt didn’t even hesitate this time.

“Whore,” he choked out, her hips growing sloppy and her cunt clenching around the air.

She chuckled, nails digging into the area around his nipples as she tugged at them to make him moan. “Yours,” she said.

“Mine,” he said.

“God, I love you so much.”

She shivered.

“My good girl.”

Her body locked up and she came long before he did, his cock disappearing between her folds momentarily as she spasmed over him, coating not only his length but his stomach in her wetness.

His fingers squeezed again, knocking the air out of her lungs. In an instant, he had pulled her back down on him, his cock buried deep in her cunt and he thrust upward two more times before his stomach and balls tensed up and he came hard inside of her, his cum coating her walls for the second time and making her feel so incredibly full, she moaned. She clenched to keep him inside, to feel him mark her forever and keep the reminder of him deep inside of her.

His grip loosened and she toppled over, head landing on his chest, and she panted heavily into his chest. She felt like a used, wet towel covered in cum and sweat and some of his tears. He held her, not quite trusting himself just yet either. His entire body shook with the aftershocks of his orgasm and hers combined, chest heaving and aligning with hers.

After a moment of regaining power over their minds and limbs, Eliza lifted her head, cheekily staring into his eyes. “Guess we fixed that,” she said.

He took a deep breath before he laughed, pulling out of her and rolling them over until she was on her back and he could slot himself between her thighs. She yelped. His grin reached from one to the other ear, diving down to capture her lips in a loving, heated kiss that had her sighing into his mouth.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” he said. “I overreacted.”

As he traced her hair out of her face, she returned the gesture with another kiss. “Don’t overthink it,” she said. “As I said, shit happens. Sex doesn’t always work flawlessly.”

“I know, but… I don’t know, no one’s ever been this attentive to my needs before and I just… I can’t believe that you’re still here with me.”

“You better start believing then, counselor, because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

“I’m starting to think you’re right.”

“About damn time.”

Their fingers intertwined over her head and their lips found back home again.

The clock kept ticking, but for them, time had long stopped being real. They enjoyed each other’s company with lazy kisses under the warm blankets, the sun shining through the closed curtains and turning the brown in his eyes into the color of honey. His lip glistened with her saliva and hers were swollen from the many times he had buried his teeth in her bottom lip. His hand rested on her sternum, fingers resting just above her aorta where he felt her pulse steadily thrumming against the skin from below. She was alive, he was alive, and they were together, right where they belonged. There was no reason to worry. There was no reason to feel ashamed. She didn’t run or curse him, she stayed. If he had to keep his hand around her neck forever to remind him of that, he would gladly do it and she would let him.

After a prolonged shower, the couple feasted on the pancakes that had long gone cold. With a glimpse at the clock, Eliza realized they spent more than three hours tangled in bed together, and he had already let her sleep in which put the time somewhere around noon when they finally had breakfast and coffee.

It was a domestic sight; Matt did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen while she sat back and watched him move around in everyday clothes and a content smile on his face. The happiness bloomed in her chest like a young flower, still fragile and not at her full size, but it was growing and blooming with each passing sunray. He was her sun and her love was growing more and more every day, as did her happiness. The field of positive emotions was expanding and she couldn’t wait to tell someone, anyone, about how happy he made her. Eliza was sure she would combust. Even during their darkest times, they held each other’s hands, and she would never pull away from him again.

The harsh ringtone of her phone tore her out of her dreamy haze. She flinched, reaching for the device at the edge of the table. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered under her breath when she read the caller ID.

Matt frowned. “What?” he asked, his lips pursed in the most adorable, most curious pout she had seen in a while.

Eliza shook her head. “It’s just… Happy,” she said.

“And? Aren’t you waiting for a call from him?”

“I’m waiting for Tony to call me back, not his forehead of security.”

“Forehead of-”

“Doesn’t matter. I gotta take this.”

“Oh,” he hummed, “Okay.”

Closing the door behind her, she swiped left. She answered without wasting a second on pleasantries, “About fucking time you picked up your phone to call me back,” she said.

“I’m sorry, I was busy,” Happy retorted. Behind him, several voices kept screaming at each other. “Stark Industries doesn’t sleep, not even on weekends, you know that.”

“I’m well aware, but I called you because it was urgent and you what, didn’t even listen to my fifty voicemails until now?”

“Listen, Liz, I didn’t even think you’d still read the letter. I tried to talk to Tony, but he won’t let anyone into his office, as usual. I talked to Pepper, but he hasn’t talked to her either. I tried his cell, but he won’t answer. I don’t think it’s personal. He’s shutting us out, too.”

“Did you tell him, at least?”

“Of course, I did. I told him you wanted to talk, but I got nothing. No reaction, no sign of life, nothing. You know, maybe you should come over and talk to him in person.”

“Talk to him in-” She bit down on her fist, trying to calm the quiver in her voice. “I left him ten voicemails. If he doesn’t answer them, that’s his problem. I made a step toward him. I told him I’m open to negotiation. If he’s not willing to talk to me, he can take his letter and shove it up his fucking ass! Tell him that. Maybe that will wake him up.”

“You know he hates confrontation,” he said.

“By God, that is not my problem.”

Happy sighed. “Did you go to your father’s apartment yet? You said he left you the key in the letter, right?”

“I don’t know if I will,” she said, her answer truthful and vulnerable but at the same time incredibly angry. “I remember what he wrote in his letter, but I don’t know many things right now, so it’d be nice of Tony to get his shit together and talk to me like a normal person. He started this. He has to find the guts to talk to me. I won’t take another step before he doesn’t crawl out from under this depressive stone he’s crawled himself under. I respect he’s struggling, but he wasn’t there when I was struggling, so I will not cave. I did my part, now it’s his turn.”

“Look, I’m trying, okay? But I can’t promise anything. Hell, I don’t even know what he’s thinking. I can’t help you with this, Liz. You and Tony need to solve this yourself. I can’t be the messenger,” he said. “I’ve got enough on my plate with the work Pepper has left me with since she doesn’t have you to help her anymore, and I just… I’m drowning here, so I need you to reconcile with Tony and get back here.”

Eliza let out a high-pitched laugh. “No,” she answered plainly. “I have a job, I have a life and I won’t be roped back into being a servant. The Avengers are over and I’m done. I’m willing to talk to Tony but only if he shows that he still cares about what he wrote in that letter. That is my condition. If you won’t… if you don’t want to play the messenger, that’s fine,” she said, “I still love you like family, Happy. This is not your weight to carry, you’re right. But if Tony doesn’t answer me, I guess you will have to deal with the fact that I won’t return. That’s my condition, that’s the deal. Tony comes to me or I won’t come back at all. There is no negotiating a peace if neither parties are willing to make a truce.”

He challenged her with, “Are you?”

She nodded, her jaw set in stone. “I am, but is Tony? That’s the real question. If I don’t get an answer, that only means he doesn’t care about reconciling, or he’s changed his mind about me, I don’t know. I don’t care. I just want to move on. Tell him that. Let him know where I stand one last time, and that’s it. If he still doesn’t act, that’s his problem and I won’t bother you with this anymore. But I won’t come around for someone who doesn’t care about putting effort into getting our relationship back on track. I need him to take the bait first before I take that road. He doesn’t deserve the cab money I’d spend to get to you, not yet.”

The line went eerily quiet before he gave a weary sigh. “Alright, I’ll tell him. One last time,” he emphasized, “and then it’s on the two of you to figure this out.”

“Thank you!”

“I only do this because I love you.”

“Thanks, Happy, appreciate it.”

“And because you’re both very dear to me, but that’s it.”

“I get it, thank you.”

“Yeah.”

“And Happy?”

“What?”

“I’m, uh, planning to have a funeral for my father. I don’t… You’ve never met him but maybe, if I end up deciding that I want this… maybe you want to come? Would that- would that be something you can do?”

“Oh,” he stuttered. “I… yes, of course. If that- if you want this, sure. Tell me the time and place and I’ll be there.”

Eliza nodded slowly, her eyes trailing out onto the street below the apartment and the Billboard that stood before it. “I haven’t my mind up yet,” she said. “I might not do it, I don’t know. I guess I’d have to go to his apartment first, see what he left me, but I can’t… if Tony and I can’t even get our shit together after he wrote that letter and I realized I made mistakes too, what use would it have to try and make amends with what Anton left me? He’s the reason all of this shit went down in the first place. He forced Tony to make an impossible decision. And I still…” Her fist hit the window quietly. “I still love him like a daughter would love a father who was there. It’s… it’s twisted. So please, Happy, tell Tony to call me back, at least. I need to know where we stand,” she said. “And I’ll tell you the rest over a cup of coffee, okay?”

He seemed to scramble something on the other end. Paper rustled and he pulled out a pen. “How about tomorrow at…” he flipped a page, “Ten?”

She chuckled. “Can’t. Uh, Matt is making me go to Sunday Mass with him.”

“You’re going to church?”

“Yeah, mostly because I need to talk funeral arrangements with the father because you know, my dad was Russian catholic, so a catholic funeral is the closest he can get here, and Matt said Clinton Church actually does these really nice services… I don’t know, I’m coming with him to find answers and some guidance on what to do, I guess,” she trailed off.

It sounded as if he nodded on the other end. “You want me to come?” he asked.

“What?” Eliza sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “No, I…” she shook her head. “Would you?”

The question was useless. Even though Happy was far from being a catholic or a church-goer, he would do it for her. He would pack his stuff and come to church with her. She didn’t need to ask to know the answer he would give.

“Where is it?”

“Clinton Church,” she told him.

“I’ll be there.”

“Wait, maybe I should ask Matt-”

“Oh, no, he offered,” said Happy.

“Wait, what?”

“Not this Sunday mass, of course, but he asked me if I wanted to join him for some church gatherings someday. When we were texting, I mean.”

Her eyes almost bulged out of her head. “You texted?”

“We do every day, yeah.”

“How did I not know this?” She looked over at the closed bedroom door.

“Well, he said he wants to get to know me because you guys are pretty serious and he wants to make sure you have a good support system.”

“He… he said that?”

The glaze of unshed tears wiped over her eyes. Her heart grew even heavier with the pure love that weighed like a brick of gold. She was so thankful, it almost hurt how in love she was with him. She was sure she picked the right one.

Matt was the kind of man who would care about her always, and make sure she wasn’t alone when she needed someone. She was the first and last thought on his mind all day, every day, and he used every chance he got to take care of her with all he had, even if he had to wear himself thin for it. He dedicated his life and his soul to the people he loved, and now she was the one thing he cherished most in life and she got everything he had to give, no matter how scared or insecure he was. He held on even when she couldn’t. He was afraid she might leave him again, afraid of getting hurt, afraid of losing her - he held on because he loved her and he showed her that in all the ways he could, in all the ways he only knew how. She didn’t deserve even half of what he did for her.

“He’s the one,” she murmured.

The tap in the other room turned on and she hoped the water concealed her words enough for him to not pick them up.

“I’m gonna marry him, Happy,” Eliza blurted out, her head turned far away from the door.

He gasped. “Wow, okay,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t… but I needed to tell someone. Because if he comes to you to ask for your blessing - and he will, I mean, that man is highly catholic and you’re the closest thing I have to a father right now - I want you to say yes because him? I’m not letting him go again, no matter what it takes. Even if I have to propose to him myself.”

She knew she couldn’t give him the kind of traditional family his religion saw fit, but she wanted to give him everything else she could. She wanted to be his family and she wanted to grow old with him. And if she was already so sure about that, she was certain she wouldn’t change her mind again. The feeling was overwhelming and it needed to be said out loud, and the more she admitted it to herself, the bigger the flower of happiness in her chest grew. it overshadowed all the pain and the fear that once consumed her. With Matt, she had hope, and she was sure she could one day be happy and careless just with him. Him and her, for all eternity, because he was the only man she truly needed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Happy said suddenly. She had missed about half of their conversation.

She blinked, tearing her eyes away from the streets of New York. “Sure, yeah, tomorrow,” she said.

The line clicked and she was left alone in the buzz of love and her thoughts putting a blanket of comfort over her.

Matt, who seemed laser-focused on cleaning the cupboard with his spice collection, jumped a little when he felt her arms around his waist. “Hey there,” he chuckled softly, her face buried between his shoulder blades.

Eliza breathed him in. She could not be waivered in her decision - she loved him. He was home. “Thank you,” she said.

“For what?” he asked.

“Everything.”

He got off his tiptoes to turn around, holding her in his arms now. “Everything?”

“I love you.” She leaned up to kiss him. “So much.”

He chuckled. “And I love you so much, too.”

“Did you hear us talking on the phone?”

“No,” it wasn’t even a lie, “Why?”

“No reason.”

“Is there something I need to know?”

“Not yet,” she told him.

“What’s that mean?”

“Nothing. I’m just glad you’re here with me.”

He kissed her again, then engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug that took all of the air out of her lungs.

Eventually, he loosened his grip to feel his wrist, checking for his watch. When he couldn’t find it, he sighed. “What time is it?” Matt asked.

She kissed his empty wrist, eyes switching to the oven clock. It came with the apartment, most likely, but didn’t benefit him in any way. “Six,” she answered.

He could tell by the change in air density and the fading tourist sounds that were replaced by music and limousines driving the streets of Hell’s Kitchen toward Manhattan that it was already dark outside.

“Is it dark?” he checked to clarify.

“Almost,” she said. “Why?”

“Get dressed,” he then told her. “We’re leaving at seven.”

“What’s going on? Why are we leaving?”

“I have a surprise for you.” His lip twitched. “Just do as you’re told, sweetheart. You’re gonna love it, I promise.”

“What kind of clothes?”

“I don’t know, clothes.”

“Matt.”

“Honestly, you can wear a trash bag. I don’t care.”

Eliza huffed, but she distanced herself from him against all reservations and returned to the bedroom. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt - the most basic outfit choice she could think of. In her mind, they were going for a walk or breaking into a museum to have a date night. She didn’t think much of it. Matt loved to take risks and he loved spontaneous arrangements even more. She wondered if he would take her to have some street food and ice cream, perhaps return to the Lavender Haze park that she had grown to love after their shared dance. Maybe he would take her dancing. Or he would do something unexpected and they would end up in trouble. She wasn’t sure and she hated he refused to tell her.

When she got out of the bedroom, dressed and ready, and she caught sight of him, she settled on the latter suspicion.

He was wearing his Daredevil suit, minus the cowl, standing at the foot of the couch waiting for her. “Hold up,” she said. her heart dropped, her face paled and her fingers started to itch. She had been angry and sweating before during the phone call, but… she didn’t like this. Whatever idea he had, it was a bad one.

“Do I need to wear fighting equipment, is that- what are we doing?” Eliza gave him a questioning and suspicious look. “You know I can’t… it’s dangerous for me to be out there, Matt. You can’t just take me out after sunset all ominous with a secret surprise in your Daredvil suit, not after what happened yesterday. Dark alleys are no great surprises. Being a vigilante is not my thing.”

Matt grabbed her shoulders to bring her face-to-face with him again. He smashed their lips together to shut her up, her heartbeat loud and clear and about twice its usual speed. “Relax,” he said, “We’re not doing that.”

“Then why are you wearing that fucking suit?”

Even her body was shaking.

“Shh,” he stroked his thumb over her cheek, “The surprise is waiting somewhere I can’t be Matt Murdock, but that’s it. We’re not jumping head-first into reckless danger. I’m not trying to push you to use your powers or anything like that. I would never do that, baby.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, bottom lip between her teeth.

What if she hurt someone again?

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

She couldn’t say no to that, so she answered truthfully, as always, “Of course, I do,” she said.

“Then let me take you there and you’ll see that it’s only half bad. Hm?” He tugged at her lip. “Can you do that for me, Angel?”

Eliza shivered. “I don’t…” she looked into his sparkling eyes, the small smirk on his lips, and the trust she had for him exceeded her expectations. “Okay,” she said, caving. “I can do that.”

“Good ‘cause we have to leave now if we don’t want to be late.” He pecked her lips. “Let’s do this, huh? Let me surprise you.”

“I hate surprises.”

“You’re gonna have a love-hate relationship with this one, trust me.”

Eliza pouted after him as he jogged up the stairs to the roof exit. “That somehow makes it worse.”

He chuckled, opening the door and waiting for her to follow in his footsteps. “Are you coming?” he said.

She clutched the necklace he gifted her.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” she grumbled, “I’m coming.”

“That’s my girl.”

He didn’t miss the death glare she shot him as she passed by him.

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Matt slapped her ass, “It’s not a good look on you.”

“Stop slapping my ass,” she retorted.

Clicking his tongue, he chuckled, “Never.”

He took her down dark roads over dark rooftops and alleyways until they reached a particularly dark dead end. It seemed like a driveway in an alley somewhere in Hell’s Kitchen, the space leading up to the door of a garage.

Matt placed a finger against his lips when she opened her mouth. “What are we doing here?” she asked anyway.

“Trust me,” he mouthed back. He reached for the lock on the door.

“Wait, are we breaking in?”

“Eliza.”

“That’s illegal.”

But he didn’t break the lock, thank God, he only took it and banged it against the metal. It was a rhythm of two thuds, a small pause, and then another three. She stared at her boyfriend, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen in all of his glory with the moonlight falling on his red eyes, and then at the metal door that separated them from whatever place they found themselves.

She grabbed his arm when they received no answer, whispering into his ear. “We should go. Whatever we’re doing here, this can wait until the morning, can’t it?”

After everything, she was a bit queasy about cops. She didn’t want to be a suspect again. That didn’t end so well the last time.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he assured her. “Just… wait. Sometimes it takes a moment.”

Matt knocked again, this time with his clothed fist. The same rhythm filled the quiet night. For a few seconds, the world went deathly quiet. Then, finally, the lock twisted and turned and it clicked. His lip twitched into a satisfied, knowing smirk. He opened the door, holding it open behind him so Eliza could step into the dimly lit garage after him.

She kept her head low, her heartbeat steady but with goosebumps on her skin. She wasn’t sure what to think of this place if she was supposed to trust it or be weary. Matt seemed more than comfortable, but that didn’t mean anything. The person this garage belonged to could turn out to be her worst enemy for all she knew, he wouldn’t even have to know.

“I was wondering when you’d come,” the male voice somewhere on the other end of the room behind wooden palettes and mannequins said. “Thanks to the measurements you gave me, I got finished much faster than usual. It’s not perfect, but you said it was urgent so I focused more on the practical components than the aesthetic ones. I hope that’s okay. Although I’ve been wondering why you’d need such a small suit.” The man chuckled, his voice now resembling the sound of a child’s laughter.

He stepped out of the darkness of the other half of his garage, bald-headed with a mustache and wearing a blue flannel atop a v-neck and a pair of jeans. His boots scratched against the floor. He held a towel in his hand, another over his shoulder. When he saw Matt in the comfort of the dark, he didn’t shy away, he only smiled.

“You didn’t lose weight,” he stated. “Oh, but the holes in your suit…” The stranger approached him and Eliza’s fists clenched at her sides, ready to attack him even though he screamed anything but dangerous in the way he carried himself, and he spoke like he couldn’t consciously hurt a fly. He looked strong, but only physically, his mind seemed to be a little more twisted. “What did you do, get shot at?”

“Melvin,” Matt interrupted him instead.

“Yes?”

“I want you to meet someone,” he said.

He stepped aside to reveal her. She frowned, looking between him and who she suspected was Melvin. He looked confused at first, then his eyes widened and he stepped back.

“Woah, man, I told you…” he reached for the screwdriver on his workbench. “No new people. You promised. For me, for- for Betsy. You were supposed to be my friend!”

Eliza instantly lifted her arms at the smallest hint of fear in his voice and demeanor. “No,” she said, “No, I’m not a bad guy. Far from it. I’m just… Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing here, but I’m not here to hurt you. He didn’t bring me here to hurt you. Melvin, was it?” she asked.

He nodded.

“You seem like a good guy, Melvin. Good intuition. Tell me, am I lying?”

Melvin eyed her carefully, his grip on the screwdriver loosening, as did Matt’s shoulders. He looked at the Daredevil, his lips pursed. “It’s for her?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Matt.

“Is she like you? A superhero?”

“Do you watch the news?”

“No, Betsy won’t let me.”

“That’s… understandable. Doesn’t matter. You’ve heard about the Avengers though, right?”

Melvin nodded, surer this time.

“Well, she’s one of them, and she’s my friend. So in some ways, she is like me, but in most ways, she is better. Now, I didn’t come here to hurt you. We have a deal, you’re right. I asked you to do this for her.”

“You’re an Avenger?” he questioned, eyeing her up and down again. His shoulders straightened and he stepped closer. “Which one?”

“Well, I’m not the Hulk,” Eliza said. She shrugged.

He looked at her more closely, then his lip cracked up and he laughed. He laughed loudly, eyes crinkling at the corners, and only then did Matt ease up completely and she sighed, somehow more relieved that he didn’t run away screaming than anything else.

“I’m Eliza,” she told him.

“My name’s Melvin. Potter,” he said.

“Nice meeting you.”

“I make his suits.”

“You-” she turned to Matt with raised eyebrows. “That is oddly interesting,” she said.

“D saved me and Betsy from Mister Fisk. I owe him my life.”

Matt chuckled awkwardly, waving his hand. “It’s not… it doesn’t matter,” he shrugged it off. “It was nothing. Fisk deserved to be locked away.”

“According to Melvin, you are a hero.”

“That’s because he is. Daredevil is a hero,” said Melvin. He scrambled back to reach for a box he put on the shelf that separated both halves of the room. It was a brown wooden box with a bow.

Eliza eyed the bow curiously.

“So I help Daredevil out,” he continued, “and he helps me out. Today though, I’ve helped him by making this.”

Matt removed his glove and stopped him, a bare hand on the box. “Thanks, Melvin,” he said.

“You want me to give it to her now?”

Eliza stepped into the light of the lamp that hung from the ceiling and shone its light on the workbench. “Give me what?” she asked.

The two men shared a look. He toyed with the bow.

“When you got hurt last night, I thought… you said you didn’t have a suit and that you need to be in control of yourself so you can control your powers. I know that doesn’t even begin to cut it close,” he said, “but I asked Melvin to make something for you so you can try again. I know how much you need the fight, almost more than I do.”

Matt motioned for Melvin to open the lid. He did.

“What did you do?” Eliza murmured.

The bow slipped off. She peeked into the dark inside. It was the same red fabric Matt had incorporated into his suit, though hers was a mix between black, scarlet, maroon and crimson, all sorted in different spots. The chest piece looked similar to a pair of feathery wings, the sleeves long with cut-outs on her elbow and her upper arms and there was a belt around the waist attached to something resembling a skirt, but it was open in the front and attached to a pair of leather pants. The cleavage was barely visible, a few leather bands attached to a piece around the collarbones and throat. They were sewn in a triangular formation, and in the middle of the amalgamation of fabric with the small slits in-between, there set a red crystal. It wasn’t real, or she figured it wasn’t, but it was formed like a rhombus or a diamond and the color fit perfectly. And when she touched it, it glowed.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. Her breath got stolen away. “D… Melvin… I- I don’t know how… Jesus fucking Christ.”

“It’s not perfect because I had to rush, but if you look at it from the outside,” Melvin told her and lifted the suit out of its confines, “It actually looks pretty good. The crimson parts can divert a bullet, the black might deflect a knife, and the other ones… well, they’re actually just fillers for decoration. So maybe try not to get shot or stabbed there.”

“The crystal,” she pointed out.

“Oh, that’s just for decoration, but it lights up under touch, so if you ever need a flashlight in the dark…” he pressed his finger down on it. The softest red glow erupted from the stone, and the glass that enveloped it glittered slightly. “One of Betsy’s necklaces gave me the idea.” he looked so adorable. He was proud of himself, there was no doubt about it, and she couldn’t blame him.

The suit was beautiful, with careful craftsmanship and he put thought behind it. It was nothing like the Avengers suit Tony made for her or the one she had to wear at SHIELD. This one was personalized, especially with the angel wings and the red. Matt must have told him all about her because the suit was hers. It spelled Red Angel. The one thing people would expect upon hearing her name laid right in her hands, and she could wear it any time. She could become a hero again, one that would be known as more than just an Avenger. It was a fever dream and Matt had made it true with just one phone call the other night. He did that for her. For her, for Eliza, not just for anyone. First the necklace, now the suit - he was planning to make her cry.

She blinked the tears away. “It’s beautiful,” her voice bordered on a whisper.

“Would you like to put it on?” Melvin asked. “I need to see if I got the measurements right.”

“I don’t doubt he got them just right,” she told him with a look at Matt. The man blushed the same color as his suit. “But yes, I’d like to put it on, if you don’t mind.”

he opened his arms toward a secluded space. “You can get changed over there if you want.”

She grabbed the suit with shaky hands, excitement and anxiety blurring together. “Thanks.”

“Meanwhile, I gotta fix the holes in your man’s suit. It’s a wonder he hasn’t been killed yet, walking around like that…”

As she kept shedding out of her clothes behind the wooden palettes, she chuckled. “I thought the same thing,” she declared.

“It’s just a few scrapes,” Matt jumped to his own defense.

Melvin went in with a needle and thread, adding some more of the fabric he found. “You should have brought this to me sooner,” he said.

“I didn’t have the time, and I’m here now, so…”

“Almost too late.”

By the time Eliza had finished squeezing into the tight fabric, Melvin had patched up most of the significant holes in the Daredevil suit. Upon his offer to do more than just add a few stitches, Matt declined. He heard her accelerated heartbeat and her steps approaching from behind the curtain.

Judging from Melvin’s stunned silence, she must have looked good. She brushed past him and stood in front of the mirror that stood against the dirty wall. “Zip me up?” she said to Matt.

His hands went to work. They would have without being asked to, but he didn’t want to come off desperate. He found the zipper and pulled it up, feeling the fabric in the process. It was similar to his but not the same. He touched the waistline and the way the entire suit fit her body perfectly, every last measurement in the right place. The top hugged her breasts perfectly and offered support even without a bra and the makeshift skirt that he told him to add gave her the same individuality she lacked in the other suits. This was her now, no one else’s, and like this, she couldn’t be confused with anyone else.

He touched the gem in the middle of her sternum. “Perfect,” he purred into her ear. “You look perfect.”

Tears sprung into her eyes. She hadn’t quite comprehended the sight of herself in such a perfectly tailored fight suit yet. Tony did his best with her old one, but no one had ever personalized it the way Melvin did before. Especially the wings that adorned the front made it look so much more epic. It wasn’t just a suit, this was like a second skin made for her specifically, and she had Matt to thank for that. Without his senses, he wouldn’t have been able to guess her measurements right. His attention to detail paid off in the end, especially around the zones that were hard to fit. She had never felt more comfortable in a piece of clothing.

“Wow, this is… thank you,” she breathed. “Thank you, Matt, really. I don’t know what else to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I told you, you only deserve the best. And maybe this proves to you that you are meant to be a hero.”

“Maybe you’re right…”

“I’ve got something else for you,” Melvin cut in from behind. He held two knives in his hands, possibly even daggers. “These are made to fit into the holsters on your thighs,” he explained. “Here.” He demonstrated by sliding the blade into the tiny pockets on the sides of her pants. “I heard you might need those.”

Knowing Matt probably told him all about her obsession with knives, she chuckled. “It’s beautiful,” said Eliza, admiring the sight of the handles sticking out of her thighs and how they blended with the rest of the suit. “Thank you, Melvin.”

He nodded. “I also have matching gloves, if you’d be interested.”

“I thought you said you had limited time.”

“There’s always time for gloves.”

He pulled them from the wooden box and handed them to her. She slid the leather gloves on, relishing the fact that even they fit perfectly, neither too large nor too small. She moved her fingers, testing the flexibility. She could easily fight like that, use all of her skills, and still be protected.

“Thank you, really,” she said again, eyeing her new outfit in the mirror. She felt comfortable in her skin, finally, like nothing could disturb her. She was invincible, almost. “I couldn’t have asked for a better gift.”

“Your boyfriend had the idea, I just executed it.”

She smiled up at Matt who seemed to try and bite back a smirk. “I know. I guess he just really loves me.”

“I guess he does,” said Matt.

“You’re crazy.”

He stood behind her again, stroking her shoulders and the new sensation of the fabric on her skin. “Someone had to give you faith again, even if it’s just in yourself. Tell me,” he said, “did I succeed?”

Eliza placed the palm of his hand over her heart. “You did,” she said, and her heartbeat was sure to underline the truth of the statement.

His teeth grazed her ear. “You know, I believe there are a few robbers in the bank down the street. I can hear them.”

She smirked, his red eyes dangerously staring into hers through the mirror. She matched his demeanor, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers at her side. “That would be unfortunate if we didn’t stop them, don’t you think?”

“Indeed it would,” he hummed. “Would you like to test the suit’s flexibility now, my Angel?”

Pulling him with her toward the door, she paid no mind to Melvin’s confused figure in their way. And she said to him, “I thought you’d never ask, my Devil.” As if she had never doubted herself in the first place, ever.

And just like that, the Red Angel was reborn and Daredevil, the man without fear, sustained her existence with a love he had never fathomed possible to conjure up for anyone but his city. The two became a team to be reckoned with, and with trouble on the horizon like every dark and twisted night in Hell’s Kitchen, New York needed their personal bodyguards more than ever.

New York City, the city that never sleeps, and a duo of vigilantes that no criminal wanted to mess with - that no one knew even existed until it was too late, and Hell’s Kitchen could fall asleep in peace (or a resemblance of that, at least) once more.

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