#daredevil x original female character

[punchdrunkdoc]

Part 4, Chapter 3

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness? Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 4 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

————–

PART 4

Chapter 3

Several days later…

The streets were quiet. Again.

Matt perched on the rooftop of one of the new residential buildings on West 49th street, and took the pulse of the city spread out below him.

It was quiet. Eerily so.

The drug pushers that usually worked the streets near the convention centre were gone. The network of muggers and pickpockets around the bus terminal had been disbanded. The smugglers and traffickers who ruled the docks were out of business.

Matt had spent the the last week intercepting the odd car jacker and petty thief, but the organised crime gangs that used to keep him busy on patrol were just…gone. According to Karen, a mysterious figure named Ronin had cleaned up the neighbourhood - and the rest of New York - soon after ‘The Vanishing’. He’d been so effective in his methods that no one had dared rekindle any sort of criminal enterprise in the years since.

Which meant Ronin had done in 6 months what Matt had failed to do in 3 years: make Hell’s Kitchen safe.

Unfortunately, he’d done it through a whole lot of brutal slaughter and intimidation. And no matter the end result, Matt could never condone those sorts of means.

Besides, he knew it wouldn’t last. Not now that all of the career criminals and would-be underworld rulers who’d disappeared five years ago were back. Once they figured out the lay of this new land, they’d start trying to claim their piece of it. They’d fill the voids left by those before them, undeterred by urban myths about a hooded samurai. Criminals would once again infect this city, and Matt would be there, ready to stop them.

Including Landon Cross.

All the money and influence in the world hadn’t stopped him from falling victim to the random fate of Thanos’ snap. He’d disappeared five years ago, upending the entire timeline of his grand plan of revenge against his family. The criminal empire he’d been building had tumbled down without him at the helm…but he’d be back too. Once he licked his wounds and found his new footing, he’d be back. Men like him - entitled, narcissistic sociopaths - didn’t have the capacity to admit defeat and slink off into the night.

He’d be back. And in the meantime, Matt would wait. And use the time to re-familiarise himself with his home.

His first venture out as Daredevil had been disorientating. He was used to New York real estate changing - it was constantly in flux, with buildings being demolished and new skyscrapers being erected all the time - but those changes were slow and gradual. Easy to adapt to.

They didn’t usually happen in the blink of an eye.

Right now, Hell’s Kitchen felt like a stranger. The streets he’d grown up on, lived on, worked on, walked on…they were all alien to him now. Storefronts were boarded up. Dozens of new businesses had replaced the ones he’d frequented his whole life. The silhouette of the skyline had drastically changed, as if someone had picked up buildings like they were lego blocks and shifted them around. 

Earlier tonight, Matt had ventured beyond the streets of his neighbourhood, too ‘see’ for himself how much New York had altered. Citi Field - once home of the Mets - was now weather-beaten and crumbling, with hundreds of rusted cars abandoned in the parking lot around the vacant stadium. The harbour around Ellis Island was filled with boats, their waterlogged cabins sloshing with the tide, and the rotted wood of their hulls creaking. The normally manicured gardens of Central Park were overgrown jungles. Times Square - normally buzzing with tourists and the sounds of thousands of neon lights - was vacant. Silent.

Everywhere he turned, there was decay and neglect. As if life hadn’t moved on at all after 2018.

As if the whole world had ended, instead of just half of it.

Matt found it all depressing as hell. This wasn’t the resilient, irrepressible city he knew.

Where was the fight? Where was the tenacious spirit? The unbeaten strength?

Had everyone really just…given up…five years ago?

———

There was one bright spot among the grey and lifeless remains. A small beacon of vitality and warmth that had escaped the apathetic, subdued and defeated air that seemed to permeate the rest of the city. It was the house that Karen shared with her daughter, Izzy, in a quiet residential area just north of Brooklyn.

Matt visited for the first time just over a week after his return. He stood on the porch, gift in hand, shifting on his feet as he waited for Karen to answer the door. He touched the paper in his pocket, smoothing his thumb over the now barely perceptible ink as if needing to take strength from the words. And he did need a bit of strength - he felt nervous as hell.

Which was ridiculous. Karen was one of his closest friends. They’d had dinner numerous times over the years. And when she’d called him up yesterday to invite him over for a home-cooked meal, the offer had been a casual one.

But he was still nervous. Because he wasn’t just having dinner with Karen - he was meeting her daughter for the first time. And, for some reason, it felt vitally important that the almost 2-year-old girl living in this house liked him.

The door opened before he could psych himself out any further.

“Hi! Welcome!” Karen’s happy greeting sounded a little too forced, her voice pitched a touch higher than normal. To his relief, Matt realised she was just as nervous as he was.

“Hey, Karen.” Matt stepped closer and brushed his lips against her cheek. “Thank you for having me over,” he replied.

Karen frowned. Then she covered her face with her hand and laughed. “This is weird, isn't it? We’ve had dinner so many times, and we’ve been in each others’ apartments loads other times, but suddenly we’re acting all formal with each other.”

Matt shrugged as she ushered him inside. “This isn’t like before. Not really.”

“I guess. But I want it to be. I don’t want there to be any weirdness between us. I want us to be friends again.”

“Hey,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll always be friends.”

“I know. I didn’t really mean it like that. I just…I feel like we need to re-learn our rhythm. To get back to how we used to be.” She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m not explaining myself very well.”

“No, you are. I get it.”

He did get it. And ‘re-learning the rhythm’ was a good way to put it. It described the way Matt felt about the whole world these days - like he was slightly out of step with everything around him.

Off kilter, and out of place.

Dancing to a beat that hadn’t been heard in five years.

He touched the note in his pocket again, knowing it was part of the reason he felt so disoriented by this new reality. One of the other reasons - the literal personification of the changes that had taken place in his absence - chose that moment to make her presence known. “Momma?”

Karen looked up as the small voice called out to her. She smiled. “Someone’s awake from her nap.”

Matt swallowed, the nerves returning. He’d faced off against gangs of thugs and an army of ninjas. He’d taken down a cabal of immortal tyrants, and a Kingpin who’d terrorised the city. And yet he was scared to meet one little girl. “I’ll wait down here while you see to her,” he said.

“Don’t be silly,” Karen replied, grabbing his arm. “Come on.”

She led him up the stairs to the small nursery at the front of the house. She pushed open the door, and an excited squeal sounded from inside. Matt could sense a crib up against the wall and a tiny figure gripping the bars, bouncing up and down on her little legs. “Momma!”

“Hi, Izzy-Bizzy,” Karen murmured lifting the little girl into her arms. “Oof, you’re getting so big.”

“Big!” Izzy repeated.

“Soon you’ll be able to climb out of this thing yourself, and then what will I do?” She nuzzled into the toddler’s neck and Izzy laughed. The two of them seemed lost in their own little world, a world of coconut-scented hair, and stuffed bears, and the stars that spun on a mobile above the crib.

Matt felt so out of place, a lumbering shadow in the corner of the room. He tried to edge towards the door, but Karen noticed before he could escape. She turned around and brought her daughter closer. “Izzy, this is a friend of mine. He’s called Matt. Can you say ‘hello’?”

Matt expected the little girl to shy away. To bury herself in Karen’s arms, safe from the dark figure looming over her. But she was as fearless as her mom. She reached out one arm and waved at him. “Hello! Hi!,” she greeted him, not a hint of fear in her piping little voice.

Matt smiled and touched the tip of his finger to her outstretched palm. “Hi.”

She grabbed his finger and wiggled it up and down. Karen laughed. “She just learned about shaking hands,” she explained.

“Oh, in that case” - Matt arranged their hands until they were clasped together properly, his large hand swallowing her fragile little fingers, and gently shook up and down - “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Isabelle.”

The little girl burst into giggles, and Karen joined her laughter, pressing a kiss to her sleep-tussled curls. Karen shook her head at Matt, and smiled. “Another female charmed by Matt Murdock.”

Matt smiled, knowing he was the one who was thoroughly charmed.

———

The charm offensive continued throughout dinner, and afterwards when they all retreated to the cosy living room. As evening bled into night, and as Matt reclined in one of the softly-cushioned sofas, comfortably full from Karen’s cooking, Izzy toddled over to him. “Read?” she asked, thrusting a large book at him.

Before he could respond, she scrambled up onto sofa and wriggled into the space beside him, getting comfortable for what must be her nightly routine.

Matt smiled ruefully as he turned the book in his hands. “I can’t read this to you, I’m afraid.”

“Why?”

Karen saved him from having to try to explain the concept of blindness to a toddler. She entered the room, coffees in hand, and noticed his predicament. “Oh honey, Matt can’t read books like that. His eyes don’t work like yours and mine do.”

Matt could sense Izzy looking up at him. Then she clambered into his lap, reached up and removed his dark glasses. Pudgy little fingers pressed against his face as she tilted it one way and another, inspecting the eyes in question.

“Izzy!” Karen admonished. “Sorry, Matt, she hasn’t grasped the concept of personal space yet. Let me get her off you.”

“She’s okay,” he replied, submitting to the little girl’s scrutiny. He didn’t mind the weight of her on his lap, or the none-too-gentle exploring fingers. Warmth radiated from her skin and her breath smelled like the tinned peaches she’d had for dessert, and he had the sudden urge to take her in his arms and cuddle her close.

He’d never seriously thought about having children. Growing up, it had seemed like too far-off a possibility to contemplate. Then, when he reached the age of contemplation, his lifestyle had been too dangerous and chaotic for children. And when he discovered Calina couldn’t have kids, he’d put any and all thoughts of fatherhood away.

But sitting here, with this bundle of energy and sweetly mischievous innocence in his lap, he finally understood the impulse. She was a little miracle. He could sense fragments of Karen’s character within her, but she was her own little person, bravely exploring the world around her.

Having finished her exploration of his ‘different’ eyes, the little miracle grabbed the book from his hands, and turned around to face Karen. “Momma?”

“You want me to read instead?”

Izzy nodded.

“Do you want to come sit with me?”

She shook her head, and flopped back against Matt, settling into the crook of his arm.

“Okay then,” Karen smiled. She sat back in her own chair and started reading the tale of Kevin the Koala. Her voice took on a soft, slow, lilting tone - one which had a dramatically soporific effect on the little girl in Matt’s arms. Within minutes, her eyes fluttered closed. Her little breaths got deeper and her negligible weight got a little more tangible as she drifted off to sleep. 

“Is it always this quick?” Matt whispered. The only thing he knew about babies and sleep was that it was usually a struggle.

“Not always. But she had a swimming lesson this afternoon and that tends to wear her out.” Karen’s voice was shaky as she replied. A little broken. As if she was holding back tears.

“Are you okay?”

She laughed quietly. “Just a little overwhelmed, I guess. Seeing you two together, it’s kind of surreal. I thought about this so much when I was pregnant, and when Izzy was a baby. Of how you and Foggy would be with her…I just never thought I’d get a chance to find out.”

Matt smiled sadly, the spectre of those missing five years raising its head again. It was impossible to escape, even for a moment. Everything around him was a haunting reminder of the time he’d lost. From this house, and the journey here earlier tonight - down streets he didn’t recognise - to the toddler asleep on his lap, and the note burning a hole in his pocket…

“How are you adjusting?” Karen asked, as if sensing the direction of his thoughts. “We haven’t had a chance to really talk about that - Izzy takes up a lot of the air in the room.”

“In a good way,” Matt smiled.

“In a very good way - it’s hard to be depressed or worried when she’s around. But I want to know how you’re doing.”

Matt huffed out a laugh. “I’m still waiting to wake up, if I’m honest. It doesn’t seem real.”

“It’s a lot to take in. But it’s only been eight days - it’ll get easier.”

Matt wasn’t so sure. He felt like there was only one thing that would make this easier, and it wasn’t time.

“Have you heard from Calina?” Karen asked, reading his mind again.

Matt sighed and fished the note from his pocket, careful not to wake Izzy. He held it up to show Karen.

“What is that? Braille?”

Matt nodded. “I found it shoved under my apartment door a couple of nights ago.” He rubbed his thumb over the raised dots on the piece of paper. He knew the pattern of those dots - and the short message they conveyed - by heart now. “‘Calina is alive and safe. She’ll be with you in a couple of weeks’,” he recited.

“Why does that sound like a badly written ransom note?”

Matt laughed. “I’m hoping it was written by one of the more…socially inept…Widows, and it wasn’t meant to come across so-”

“Vaguely threatening?”

“Yeah.”

“But its good news, though. Calina’s alive. She’s safe.”

That had been his first thought too, when he’d discovered the note in his hallway after returning from a night of patrolling. He’d collapsed to his knees with relief, his head bowed as he fought back tears. The confirmation that she was still out there, still breathing, her beautiful heart still beating…it was all he’d been praying for after returning to this strange world to find her gone.

But over the next few days, as he carried the note in his pocket - his fingers constantly drawn to it like a talisman - he realised the message carried with it far more questions than answers.

“If she’s so safe, why didn’t she contact me herself?” he asked Karen, voicing one of those questions.

“She could be on a classified mission, way off the grid. That wouldn’t be unusual for her.”

Matt nodded. It was one of the possibilities he’d considered. Although the idea of it just served to remind him how different her life was now. She’d been on missions - dangerous ones - multiple times over the past five years. She’d risked her life God-knows how many times.

And she was still off somewhere unknown, instead of here with him.

“What was she like, after it happened?” he forced himself to ask, not sure he wanted the answer.

Karen sighed. Then she was silent for several long moments, as if trying to order her thoughts - which made Matt even more hesitant to hear the truth.

“She struggled at first. A lot,” Karen finally replied. “I worried about her those first couple of years. She tried to hide how much she was hurting, but not very well. Then…”

“Then what?”

“Something changed. She seemed to get better. Stronger.”

Something in Karen’s voice worried Matt. “What aren’t you saying?”

“She became…not cold, exactly. But…more reserved. More remote. She was still kind and caring - you should see her with Izzy, the two of them adore each other - but a large part of her seemed walled off. I think she took all her pain and grief and buried it so far down inside that that she ended up burying some of her heart along with it.” Karen winced at what she must have seen on his face. “I’m sorry. I’m not saying this to hurt you-”

“I know.”

“But I think…when you do see her again, you need to be prepared for the change in her.”

“I don’t care how much she’s changed. I just want to see her. Talk to her. I need to. I miss her so much, Karen.” He felt like he was floundering in this new world. Adrift without his anchor. He could put on a good act when he needed to - like tonight - laughing and talking as if he was adjusting to this upheaval. But in reality, it felt like only his body had returned a week ago…

His heart and soul were still missing.

————–

Chapter 4 coming soon...

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @sio-ina-bottle @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy @chezagnes

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

[madschiavelique]

did an edit for bestie @gracethyomen of her cutsie fic Arm’s Length Away !! go check their stuff out ✨

i am still very new to editing but hopefully it’s okiii

[hollandorks]

saved

matt murdock x original female character

chapter eighteen

Summary: Fleeing from an abusive relationship, Grace St. James goes to the only place she still has a friend: Hell’s Kitchen. She’s forced to live in her car and beg for a job from the law firm Nelson, Murdock, and Page all the while making sure her past doesn’t catch up to her. Enter Matt Murdock: cocky, handsome, and willing to let her live with him for free until she can afford to get a place of her own. Grace is drawn to Matt in a way she’s never been drawn to anyone, causing sparks to fly as they inevitably grow closer and closer.

a/n: phew, made it through being sick and the holidays and now I have time to post again! This chapter is...a lot. Literally. It’s over 10k words. I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not! There wasn’t a good place to break it up, and I don’t think anyone would want a cliffhanger where I’d debated ending the chapter, so here you go! A nice, huge chapter! 

***This chapter is NSFW. 18+! *** 

Series Masterlist 

word count: 10,409

She’d been stupid, naive, prone to giving in to his apologies.

She wasn’t that girl anymore.

She took a deep, steadying breath, and finally started working on the paperwork piling up on her desk.

Matt’s POV 

The day was over before Matt knew it. He’d been buoyed all day long, his three favorite people in the world surrounding him with laughter and light for the entire day. He hadn’t laughed so hard or so much in…well, a long time. 

They managed to all leave at the same time for once, Foggy wordlessly clapping him on the back as they left. Matt knew what his best friend meant with the motion–he was happy for Matt, for Grace. 

Karen’s phone chimed as she locked the office door behind them. “Ellison has something.” 

“Send it to me,” Matt said immediately. 

“Yes sir,” Karen said sarcastically, but her fingers tapped the phone screen anyways. 

Matt inserted an earbud to listen to the text Karen had copied and sent to him, frowning as he walked. He was aware of Grace standing next to him, her warmth a steady comfort as she talked to the others. 

At the intersection where they usually parted ways, Foggy hesitated for a second after saying goodbye. “Feel free to um…come in late tomorrow,” before he hastily walked away. 

Matt could feel Grace’s heart beating more quickly. Her skin temperature rose as she blushed. He loved when she blushed and he unconsciously leaned into the extra warmth. 

“Well, if Foggy’s alright with it,” she joked as they crossed the street. 

Matt didn’t respond. He was lost in thought. He was already planning on going out as soon as he got back to the apartment. He needed to move quickly if what Ellison had discovered was true. 

“Hey, want to stop to eat first?” Grace asked. 

“You can pick up something. I’ll meet you at home. I have something to do real quick.” He needed to get home and get to the warehouse now owned by the same security company the men supposedly worked for. 

“Are you okay?” she asked softly. 

He turned to face her, expression softening into a smile. “Yeah, just thinking about this case. I’ll see you at home.” The lie rolled off of his tongue easily. He hadn’t meant to lie, it simply…happened. He didn’t want her to worry, and he knew he could be there and back before she even went to bed for the night. 

Matt went inside the apartment with guilt weighing him down. He would tell Grace the truth when he got back, he decided. It was too late now. He wanted things to work with her, though, so he needed to be open. She’d already blown him away with her easy acceptance of his secret. Why would this be any different? 

The guilt worsened as he changed out of his work clothes. 

He shouldn’t have lied. He cursed at himself as he pulled on his armor. He really shouldn’t have lied. He’d worked for the past several years to reach a place of trust and honesty with Foggy and Karen, and he’d sabotaged that work with Grace the first chance he’d gotten. 

He paused as he started pulling on his boots and mentally berated himself. 

He missed the sound of the door unlocking and opening behind him and froze as someone entered the apartment. 

Grace’s scent and familiar heartbeat reached him a split second later and he relaxed a bit. 

“Oh,” she said, her heart stuttering in her chest. “I…got you food.” 

Matt tilted his head, several expressions flickering across his face before he settled on a carefully neutral one. “Thanks. I…have something to take care of.” The guilt worsened, heavy like lead in his veins.

“Oh,” she said again. “What is it?” 

“I’m–I–” he stammered. He’d planned on telling her the truth when he got back, but here she was, catching him in the lie. It was somehow so much worse than he’d thought it would be. He braced himself for the blow, for her anger, for her disappointment. 

She sighed. “You’re getting pretty familiar with this hook I keep letting you off of,” she told him. “At least eat real quick before you go do…whatever. Ninja flips.” 

Matt cracked a small smile. “I’m sorry, I know I said–” 

“It’s fine,” she said before he could dig himself even farther into the hole he was making. “Really.” 

“You’re lying,” he said softly. He didn’t need to hear her heartbeat to be able to tell. The tone of her voice was enough. Though her heart was evidence enough, too. “It’s not fine. You’re disappointed. I knew this–” 

“Matt, of course I’m disappointed. But it’s really okay. I don’t expect you to drop everything for me.” She held out the paper bag with his food. He could smell the grease and breading from one of his favorite fish and chip places. “Besides, you could have just told me you were going out. You didn’t need to lie.” 

He muttered something curses darkly to himself as he took the food. He’d brought this on himself. He always did. 

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t have to hear what you said to know it was more–” 

“Self-flagellating bullshit.” He sighed. “I just–this always gets in the way of my relationships. Every time. And I’m sorry it does, but this is important, and–” 

“Matt, I’m disappointed we don’t get to have sex immediately after we eat, not that you’re going out as Daredevil.” 

His head snapped up. “What?” He stopped breathing for a second as he parsed her words. 

Grace smothered a laugh. “Was I lying? No. Because it’s okay. I know what you do is important, and I won’t stop you or try to make you feel bad about yourself.” He heard a rustle as she shrugged and a crunch as she popped one of the fries in her mouth. “I may have been with an asshole for a really long time, but even I know you can’t just expect a partner to drop everything they do and tailor their schedules to you and your relationship.” 

Matt was still frozen in the same position. She…didn’t care that he was going out as Daredevil. And she wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. After a moment, he laughed, a low sound that she felt more than heard. “You are–constantly surprising me.” 

“Refreshing, isn’t it? I already told you all of this. Looks like it only took–” She paused. “–roughly eight hours for you to forget it.” 

Matt strode forward and kissed her lightly. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m–I’m trying. I swear. And to show you that I’m trying, I’m going to tell you that I’m going after those assholes who came here last night, to try to get some information out of them.” 

“They were released?” she asked. He heard a note of fear in her voice. A trace of moisture in the air as her palms began to sweat. Her heart raced. 

Matt’s hands traced her jaw, her neck. “I’m not going to be gone long,” he said. “I promise.” He inhaled her scent even as though it was tainted with fear. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He’d never meant a promise more in his life. He would protect her, no matter what. And what he was about to go do was the first step in that. 

She took a deep breath and her heart calmed almost immediately as she breathed. “Sorry, I just–” She shrugged again. Even the sweat on her palms dissipated. 

“You’re…weirdly good at that.” Matt listened intently as her body calmed further. He’d noticed her calming herself quickly before. 

“I’ve lived with fear for a long time,” she said softly. Anger stirred at her words. Fear of that man that she’d been with. “Now, here. The man behind the counter gave me a funny look when I asked what your order was. He thinks I’m stalking you, probably.” 

Matt didn’t comment on what she’d said. All he did was take the bag from her and say, “I won’t be long. I swear. And I’ll try to keep an ear out for anything happening, okay?” He would be on high alert for anything and would do a loop around the neighborhood first, just to make sure nothing suspicious was happening. 

“Be careful, please,” she said. Her next words almost knocked him off of his feet. “I still plan to pay you back, you know.” 

Matt groaned because he knew exactly what she meant by that. “Stop trying to get me to stay home.” 

“I’m trying to get you to come back,” she said. 

Matt was quiet for a moment. “I will,” he said earnestly. “Don’t worry about me.” 

She kissed him again, and then he was gone, out of the roof door without looking back, slipping the devil’s guise over his face as he went. 

–

Despite Grace’s words, guilt plagued Matt as he moved across the city. His gut reaction had been to lie to her about what he was thinking about, about what he was doing, and she’d caught him anyway. He didn’t know how to do this, how to be with someone who knew his secret and accepted it. He still wasn’t entirely convinced that she did accept it. 

Matt was convinced that, even though things were starting off well, Grace would eventually come to resent him, to resent his time as Daredevil. 

Because he had learned one thing in his years being a vigilante–he didn’t want to stop. He couldn’t. It was as much a part of him as his DNA was. He had come to terms with that fact and it had taken a lot of work to find peace with it. 

But God, did he want to do right by Grace. Not just because she’d been with an abusive asshole for years, but because she deserved someone to treat her well. Matt knew he wasn’t up to the job and yet she still wanted to try with him. 

The hope that Matt felt overshadowed every other emotion. 

Matt’s mind might be a thousand miles away–or, more accurately, about a mile back in his apartment–but his focus was still on those men. 

Anger quickly rose on a wave and washed away his thoughts about Grace. Those men had broken into his home to take her. To take her back to her asshole of an ex, the man who had beaten her, the man she was terrified of. 

Ellison’s work had been quick and thorough. He’d tracked the security company the men had claimed to be a part of, and had somehow even used his many connections to find out where the men went after being released. 

When Matt had gotten the information from Karen, he hadn’t been surprised. 

The security company had recently bought the warehouse that Grace had told him about. 

No doubt the security company was a shell that Dean Bennett owned. 

Matt would dig into all of that later. Getting a paper trail to connect nefarious things to Dean Bennett was a problem for another day. 

Right now, he had a score to settle with the men who had broken into his home. 

The warehouse was mostly empty. From what he could tell from his perch on the roof closest to the building, they were setting things up to make it look like an actual security company was running it. No wonder it had been empty when he’d first investigated–Dean Bennett was using a legitimate business to cover up his crimes. Or something that was going to look as close to a legitimate business as it could get. 

He heard at least six people inside, one of them moaning loudly about being forced to work late. Four of them were the men who’d just been released. 

Matt’s blood heated. A calmness washed through him as he straightened from his perch. 

He was going to get some answers. 

It was easy enough to find the breaker box for the first floor of the warehouse. It wasn’t quite sunset yet so he needed all the darkness he could get. He’d been in a rush to get to the men before they disappeared. 

He could hear cursing from most of the men as the warehouse was doused in shadows. 

The first man went down quickly and quietly. Matt stashed him in the office, which was now actually being used as an office. 

The second man came to investigate. Matt couldn’t believe his luck–out of six men, the first two he took out weren’t from the group who’d broken into his apartment. He pulled the second man’s unconscious body into the office too, divested them of their guns and phones, and stepped back out into the shadows. 

He focused on the echos in the building to locate the other four. Two were talking amongst themselves, completely unconcerned. A third was headed his way. 

He almost missed the fourth, who had snuck up behind him while he’d been taking care of the first two. 

The first gunshot was so close it rang in Matt’s ears. He’d moved right before it had gone off, the whisper of air moving around the barrel alerting him to the man’s presence just in time. His aim was true and his fist connected with the man’s wrist. The gun clattered to the ground. 

Matt struck again, quickly, knocking him out as another gunshot rang out from behind him. He ducked and rolled out of the way. 

The three remaining men surrounded him. 

Anger rose in him again, blinding him momentarily. These men had broken into his home and had been trying to take Grace back to the man who had hurt her for years. 

Matt shouted as one of the men got a good hit to his ribs as he whirled and kicked at another. Four down, two to go. He received another blow, to his mouth this time, and he spat blood without losing momentum. He was too angry to feel the pain and simply used it to fuel his anger. 

There was only one man left standing, his arm hanging at his side, shoulder dislocated. 

“What do you want with Grace St. James?” Matt demanded. He could have gone about it more carefully, but he didn’t want to. It didn’t matter–he wanted word to get out that the devil of Hell’s Kitchen was protecting Grace. Then maybe that asshole Dean Bennett would think twice before trying anything else. 

“Who?” the man asked, clearly confused. He wasn’t lying either, wasn’t faking. 

Matt paused, fists still raised. “The girl you were sent to kidnap. What did you want with her?” 

When the man didn’t answer, Matt hit him. Then he kicked his knees out from under him and grabbed him by the shirt. He leaned in close, letting the guise of the devil stare the man in the eyes. He could scent the man’s fear as clearly as if it were his blood, pouring from his body in waves. 

“What were you going to do with the girl?” Matt shook the man. 

“I–I don’t know, I swear! We just received an address and a payment. We were supposed to bring her back here and wait for the man to come back! That’s all! He gave us a cover story and bailed us out, I don’t know anything else I swear.” 

“Who hired you, then?” 

The man coughed and Matt scented blood. A few of the man’s teeth were loose from the blows Matt had delivered. 

“I don’t know his name, the payment came from a shell company. He gave us a burner number, that’s all! We don’t care where the money comes from, we just–” 

Matt’s fist cut off any more words. He dug through the unconscious man’s pockets and took the cell phone. 

Now he had to figure out how to connect it all to Dean Bennett. 

Matt went home with disappointment lodged in his chest. He’d hoped for more tangible answers to take back to Grace. 

His blood warmed at the thought of Grace waiting for him back at the apartment, at not having to hide. As he leapt over rooftop after rooftop, Matt allowed himself a small smile. 

Grace’s POV 

True to his word, Matt wasn’t gone long. He was back within two hours. Grace was sitting on the couch, a book in hand that she wasn’t reading, when the rooftop door clicked open. 

As soon as she heard it she jumped up. Matt was…limping as he came down the stairs.  

“Are you okay?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. He waved a hand at her as he made his slow way down the stairs. 

“Fine,” he said gruffly. “Just took a couple of hits.” 

“How the fuck did you ever sneak around like this with me living here?” she asked as he toed off his boots at the bottom of the stairs and then let his helmet thunk to the ground. She tried not to ogle him in the Daredevil armor as he moved about the apartment. But God, it was hot. 

“I waited until you were asleep,” he said, as if it should be obvious. “And when you caught me a couple of times, I lied. Sleepwalking, insomnia…” 

Grace made a face. “Oh. Right. I forgot about that. I was so worried you’d sleepwalk right off the roof, too.”

He grinned at her. “You’re a pretty heavy sleeper, you know,” he said as he fumbled at the back of his neck for something. There was a slight noise, and then he was tugging a zipper down, revealing the muscled expanse of his back. 

Grace couldn’t help the little breath that escaped. “Please tell me you’re not wearing underwear under that thing.” Her blood heated even further. She’d had a bit of a crush on Daredevil ever since her first encounter with him, and knowing he was Matt, and knowing what Matt could do with his mouth and his hands…

Matt coughed and laughed. “Sorry to disappoint. It chafes pretty bad without it.” 

He turned to face her and she gasped for a different reason. One side of his ribs was bruised. She noticed, too, that the corners of his mouth were bloody. 

“Jesus,” she said. “You said you were fine!” Matt tried to brush past her to the kitchen but she caught his arm. He sighed but stopped. She grabbed his jaw and tilted his head to the light, making sure he didn’t have any hidden head wounds or anything. Then she stooped to look more closely at his ribs. “So does ‘fine’ mean you actually got the shit beat out of you? Your ribs might be broken or something, Matt.” 

“You should ask Foggy about what I looked like when he found out I was Daredevil,” Matt said in a dry voice. “This is nothing. I would call it a typical night, but it’s actually a lot better than that.” He tilted his head slightly and pressed his hand lightly against his ribs. “Nah, they’re not broken. Just bruised.” 

“How can you know for sure?” she asked. “Pain levels?” 

“No, I–someone once told me I have x-ray fingers.” 

Grace snorted. “Really?” 

Matt grabbed her left hand and brushed his thumb across her skin. “I can tell this wrist was broken. It didn’t heal quite right, either. The bones shift against each other more than the ones in your right hand.” 

Grace yanked her hand away as if shocked. “A parting gift from my ex.” All of the heat had left her blood at the reminder. 

Matt gently took her left hand again and placed a soft kiss right where the fucked up bones were. Her pulse stuttered. He was half-in his Daredevil outfit and treating her as if she was made of glass, something delicate to be taken care of. The contradiction between the two things did something strange to her that she didn’t dislike. 

“We’re going to take him down,” Matt said in a quiet voice. 

Grace had to glance away from his intense expression. “I’m not so sure it can be done.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

Grace scoffed. “Matt, the stuff he’s been getting away with, for years…He’s powerful. He has connections. He’s basically untouchable. I mean, those guys already got released–” 

“Grace, did you ever hear about a man named Wilson Fisk?” Matt interrupted. His fingers were drawing distracting but soothing circles on her hand. 

“Of course. You guys had him locked up, he got out, caused chaos, and then put him away again.” She shrugged. “The FBI was even involved or something. Everyone heard about it.” 

“Trust me, I doubt this guy is as powerful as Fisk ever was. And we got rid of him. For good. He’s locked up so tightly he doesn’t see another living person except when they drop off his meals through a flap in the door.” Matt raised his eyebrows. “Do you understand what I’m telling you? It might not be easy, but it can be done.” 

She sighed and rubbed her free hand over her eyes. “Okay, okay.” 

“And if I can’t get to him as Matt Murdock, then Daredevil might have to make a special trip outside of Hell’s Kitchen.” 

“Okay. I’m still not convinced we shouldn’t just send a hitman after him, but…Okay.” She squeezed his shoulder and stepped around him to get an icepack from the freezer. She gently held it to his bruised ribs. Matt’s large hand covered hers. She cocked her head as her words brought back a memory. “Who is Mank Trastle?” 

Matt gave a loud, surprised laugh. “Well, do you remember the Punisher?” 

Grace’s mind was blank for a long moment. Then it clicked. “Oh. Frank Castle? Wait–Karen’s friends with him? Wait–isn’t he dead?” 

“Yes, Frank Castle. And I don’t know if I’d call it a friendship, but they’ve helped each other out. And no…he’s not dead.” Matt’s hand tightened as he gently extricated himself from her and went towards the bedroom. “God, there’s so much you don’t know–” 

“Well, I mean…I at least know the basics right?” She trailed after him as he kicked the suit off the rest of the way. She watched his muscles with fascination but her eyes kept snagging on the rapidly darkening bruise on his side. God, he looked good in nothing but his underwear. But she really needed to stop focusing on that. “You’re Daredevil, and a lawyer, and you put Fisk away, and Frank Castle isn’t dead.” 

“I also fought ancient ninjas and had a skyscraper dropped on top of me, pretended that I didn’t make it out alive, and tried to kill Fisk before my better nature won out.” Matt’s voice was bitter as he yanked open a drawer and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. 

Grace’s eyes snapped from her inspection of his ass to his face. “You–what–a skyscraper?” 

Matt sighed tiredly and sat on the edge of the bed. One of his hands dragged across his face. His knuckles were bruised. She was pretty sure it was from the night before. “I…want to preface this by saying I'm not trying to go through the self-flagellation thing. But I always struggled with this…darkness in me. And there was a time that I wanted to give up. To give in and let Matt Murdock disappear. I finally got to a place where I accepted that I want to be both, that I have to be, but that darkness still…it still consumes me sometimes. And I want to be up front about that with you. So you know what you’re getting into.” 

Grace sat next to him, their shoulders touching. “Do you know what I was thinking today as I was going through all of those photos, looking for evidence to back up the absolute worst years of my life?” 

“What’s that?” 

“That that life…it was nothing but shadows with brief flashes of light. And no matter how hard I try to forget it, it’s impossible. That time of darkness is…is a part of me. A part I might always struggle with. There’ll still be times where a certain scent makes me panic, or when a man raises his hand in a particular way that makes me think he’s going to hit me, or times when I wake up thinking I’m back inside those shadows.” She reached out for Matt’s hand. “I’m not saying I know what it’s like to be you, or deal with the kind of darkness you deal with…but I get it, to an extent. My eyes are wide open, Matt.” 

He blew out a breath and squeezed her fingers. “I don’t understand,” he finally said, slowly, as if he was choosing his words very carefully, “how I found someone like you.” 

“I believe I came into your office and begged for a job.” She bumped his shoulder with her own. 

“I mean it,” he said in a low voice. “I already told you, Daredevil has always complicated my relationships in one way or another. I don’t want that with you, but every time I bring it up, you shrug it off.” 

“I’m not shrugging it off,” she said. “I accept it. Respect it, even. I kind of even had a crush on Daredevil.” Her face flushed even though she wasn’t exactly embarrassed of the fact.  

“That’s not what I meant.” He made a frustrated noise. “I–When Foggy found out, it almost killed him. And me. Our friendship was obliterated, and it took years to get to a good place. Sometimes I can hear in his voice that he still doesn’t understand, that he still doesn’t necessarily like it. And then when I tell you, you immediately just–don’t care. Not that you don’t care, but it’s like it wasn’t a huge deal. And that’s–a lot for me.” 

“I always thought Daredevil was kind of hot,” Grace mused. She hated the idea that his longest, most meaningful friendship had barely survived the truth of him being Daredevil. But she took comfort knowing they were in a good spot now, at least. So she joked to lighten the burden for him, if only a little. “This is like a dream come true for me.” 

Matt laughed and shook his head. “Joke all you want–it’s a big deal for me, and I just–I–appreciate it. I don’t want to mess this up.” 

“So you keep saying. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know if you mess up, just like I hope you let me know if I mess up. That’s what a relationship should be.” 

“Is that what this is?” Matt asked, a different note of emotion entering his voice. He turned his head as if to look her in the eyes. “A relationship?” 

Grace’s heart fluttered. “I’d like it to be.” 

“I would too.” 

She reached up and cupped his jaw to tilt his face towards her. She kissed him carefully, aware of the blood she’d seen on his lips earlier. He made a small noise of protest when she pulled away. “As much as I’d really, really like to continue this, your ribs are busted and I don’t want to make it worse.” 

Matt sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay earlier.” 

“It’s alright, Matt, I promise. We should probably go on a proper date first anyways.” She smiled at him and couldn’t help but press another kiss to his lips. 

His thumb traced the line of her jaw. She shivered at the touch. “Mm. You’re right. I’m usually much more of a gentleman than this.” 

“Trust me, I’m very okay with you not being a gentleman.” The night after Josie’s flashed through her mind, Matt on his knees painted in red light. 

“Is that right?” Matt’s smile turned cocky. She made herself look at the bruise on his side to remind herself why she couldn’t jump him right then and there. Because she really, really wanted to. She even debated, briefly, asking him to put the Daredevil suit back on, then shook the thought away. 

“It is. But your ribs are busted, and we didn’t get much sleep last night. And I–want to do this right as much as you do.” She really did–she wanted it all with him. The dates, the getting to know each other, the late nights spent talking about nothing. All that, and more. 

He kissed the top of her head. “My ribs aren’t busted. Just bruised.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Same difference. One wrong move and they’re broken, and the mood is killed. And I really don’t want to have to be careful.” She shoved the thoughts of what it would be like to lose control with him away from her mind. 

Matt chuckled. “I guess you have a point. In that case, I’m going to take a shower.” 

Grace couldn’t help the images that flashed through her mind, unconsciously clenching her thighs together. Down girl, she told herself. She was trying not to sleep with him, damn it, but her mind was doing its best to rile her up anyways. 

Matt paused, his hand gripping the bathroom door frame so tightly it creaked. His nostrils flared, and she realized that he knew exactly what just went through her mind because of his enhanced senses. 

She flopped back on the bed with a groan. “Sorry,” she said, voice muffled from her hands covering her face. Another thought occurred to her. “God, you know every single time I have a sex dream don’t you?” She made a face, wincing. 

Matt’s jaw flexed. “Yeah,” he said tightly after a moment. “Yeah, I do. But I swear I try really hard not to notice.” 

“God, that’s embarrassing. I swear I’m not a sixteen year old with raging hormones, I just–” 

“It’s alright,” he said. He hadn’t moved a muscle. Even worse, he was still only in sweatpants, and the vision of him without his shirt on was really doing a number on her. “I–don’t usually notice so much but I’m so…in tune with you it’s hard not to…notice. Not to…react.” She noticed that his face was flushed, his breathing faster than it had been, that hand still gripping the door frame like a lifeline. 

Oh, she thought. 

Matt Murdock was really turned on, and was trying to act like he wasn’t. 

She bit her lips so hard she tasted blood. Matt still hadn’t moved. Her thighs clenched unconsciously again. 

Voice strained, he said, “You’re making it really hard to take things slow, Grace.” His voice was edged in gravel, scraping her skin raw as the words danced up her spine. 

Grace stood and walked very slowly towards him. Did she imagine it, or did the wood of the door frame creak as his muscles tensed even more? Matt looked like a man about to snap.  

And Grace wanted to make him snap. Wanted him to lose control, like he’d done to her the other night. 

There were things she could do that didn’t involve anything near his bruised ribs, after all. She turned the thought over in her mind. There were definitely ways she could pay him back without him having to move a muscle. Things she really wanted to do. 

She pressed her palms to Matt’s muscled back. A tremor went through his frame as her hands slid up his spine to his shoulders. His skin was so warm it was almost hot. One of her hands grabbed loosely at the back of his neck while the other trailed down his arm and down to the hand gripping the wall like it was holding him up. Or holding him back. 

“I thought you were going to shower, Matt,” she said in a husky voice she barely recognized. 

“I was,” he said thickly. She felt him swallow hard. She let her hands explore every inch of his back and shoulders and arms that wasn’t bruised. Another tremor went through him and she heard him exhale shakily. She pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. She wondered if stuff like this–a lover’s touch–was something his senses amplified even more. 

She wanted to find out, but now wasn’t the time. 

She gripped his hips lightly, then stepped back and ducked under his arm. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice so tight she knew he was barely hanging on by a thread. 

Grace looked back at him over her shoulder. She pulled her shirt over her head. “If you’re not going to shower, I am.” She turned the shower on so the water would warm up. 

She shimmied out of her pants then unhooked her bra. Matt still hadn’t moved. She could hear him breathing heavily behind her. She pretended she didn’t notice the effect she was having on him, even though he could tell how fast her heart was racing, how aroused she already was. 

Her underwear were lace again, a nice black pair–not that Matt would know about the color. But she was certain he could hear the difference in material as she very slowly slid those off, too. Matt gasped and she knew she was right. He knew her underwear were sexy, even if he couldn’t see them. 

She stepped into the warm spray of water and let out a little sigh. The water really felt nice. She closed her eyes and brushed her hands over her breasts, down her stomach, to her thighs. 

When she opened them, she saw Matt through the glass door of the shower. He’d finally let go of the door frame and seemed to be fighting with himself. 

Grace touched herself and was rewarded by his head snapping towards her. With a noise of frustration she could hear over the water, Matt stripped off his sweatpants and kicked them to the side. She saw how much he strained against his underwear. Her mouth went dry as he got rid of those, too, and she was finally rewarded with the sight of Matt Murdock entirely naked. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

In her haste, she hadn’t turned the bathroom light on. Matt was illuminated through the open door from behind by a soft magenta coming through the windows. Grace stared at him, and knew he knew she was staring. His head tilted to the side, hearing what the sight of him did to her, and that goddamn cocky smile spread slowly across his face. Her eyes dipped down and her entire body flushed at the sight of just how aroused he was. 

With the edges of his naked body framed in purple, Matt stalked towards her slowly, purposefully. 

“I thought you wanted to take things slow,” he said, the words half a growl. He looked almost…predatory. But instead of being afraid, Grace was even more turned on. Her heart was racing so fast she felt a little faint. 

“I’m just taking a shower,” she said, but the innocent words were breathless with anticipation. “I never said we were having sex.” 

Matt stepped into the water, closer and closer until her back hit the cold tile wall. She bit back a gasp. She glanced up at Matt, water cascading over his hair and face and his deliciously muscled shoulders. 

One of his hands moved, and she tensed at the anticipation of his hands on her body. 

When he stepped back, she blinked in surprise. Matt squirted some shampoo into his hand and started washing his hair as if nothing was happening, despite the raging hard on he so obviously had. 

Grace frowned, then reached for the bar of soap. She lathered up her hands and smoothed them over Matt’s shoulders. He froze again. She said nothing, working her way down across his abs and around to his back, careful to keep just enough space between them that no other part of their bodies touched. She was careful, too, to avoid the bruises on his side. She was determined to make him feel only pleasure, no pain. 

He was breathing heavily again, his eyes closing as her soapy hands brushed his hips and down the front of his thighs. She couldn’t help it–her hands slid around to his back and then lower, gripping his ass quickly before letting go. Matt jolted. 

“Sorry,” she said breezily. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” 

“Is that the only thing?” he asked, still cocky and sure of himself. 

In response, she reached out and brushed across his cock. His breath stuttered out of him, a pained noise coming from his throat. 

She stepped closer, their bodies pressing together, skin sliding against skin, as her hand grabbed him firmly. 

“No,” she murmured. “That’s not the only thing.” Her hand started pumping him as the other continued exploring his muscles. His hand smoothed down her back and grabbed her ass. She nipped a spot on his neck as her hand kept moving very slowly around his length. “I promised I’d pay you back, didn’t I?” 

Matt’s mouth opened, but he seemed incapable of speech as her other hand joined the first. His free hand smacked wetly against the wall as his body shuddered. 

Grace had never been so turned on, except for maybe when Matt had been on his knees in front of her. 

“Last night,” Grace said, then moaned as Matt cupped her breast. “This is what I was imagining. That you had joined me.” He panted, breath hot on her neck before he kissed her there, right where her pulse hammered beneath her skin. “I imagined–Fuck.” He’d lightly pinched her nipple, a jolt of electricity sparking down her entire body. “I imagined that night when we kissed on the counter. I imagined doing that again, but naked. You fucking me there.” 

Matt kissed her, mouth open, his tongue demanding. The hand that had been on the wall gripped her neck. She didn’t think someone grabbing her neck could be so fucking hot, but she grew even more turned on. 

But she had a plan in mind, first. 

Grace pulled away with the kiss with a desperate gasp, extricating herself from Matt, who almost whined. It took all of her willpower, but she managed to step away from him. 

He went still as she got to her knees. She looked up at him, blinking water from her eyes. His hand fumbled in the air before it came to rest on her shoulder, like he couldn’t tell where she’d gone. She didn’t think he was breathing. 

“You don’t–” he murmured, but his words cut off with a loud moan as her lips wrapped around him. His other hand tangled in her hair. Matt cursed as she moved slowly, her tongue tasting him. God, she never knew that this could be so fucking hot, either. She’d never enjoyed doing this before, but it was almost as good as if he’d been touching her, pleasing her. Her thighs clenched together again and Matt’s hips jerked in response. She choked lightly and he tried to back away, but she gripped his ass with both hands and held him there. 

“Grace,” he choked out. “Fuck.” 

The way he said her name made her moan around him and his hips jerked again, fucking her mouth like he couldn’t help it. She felt like she could come just from pleasing him. She remembered Matt on his knees, his mouth on her, the desperate noises he’d made. She understood perfectly how much he’d enjoyed it, enjoyed watching her come undone from just his mouth, because that’s how she felt at that moment. 

Matt’s movements became quicker, more erratic, and he suddenly half-shoved her away. 

His hands lightly cupped her face and he drew her upwards to kiss her roughly. His hands were all over her, like he couldn’t get enough of her, of touching her. The water poured over them, making their skin slip and slide against each other. 

He spun her around and pinned her against the wall so quickly she gasped. The tile was freezing against her aching breasts, a delicious contradiction to the heat of Matt as he pressed his chest against her back and sloppily kissed down her neck and across her shoulder. One of his hands kneaded her breast while the other slid down, down, down. 

The first brush against her clit made her jerk forward, but Matt’s hand on her chest kept her in place, pressed tightly against him. His cock was pressing against her hip and ass. 

A desperate noise fell from her lips as Matt’s fingers slipped into her. 

“Fuck,” he said again as he felt exactly how turned on she was. The hand on her breast came up to loosely hold her throat and the sensation sent another bolt of pleasure through her. She’d had no idea she liked that until he did it. And the fact that it was Matt, that she knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t hurt her, made it an even headier sensation. 

His fingers worked relentlessly, and she came hard around within minutes. Matt moaned as she clenched around him. She shuddered through the orgasm, stars in her eyes, her body tensing and relaxing as she came down from the high. 

She whirled around and went straight back to her knees. Staring up at him, she said hoarsely, “I’m supposed to be paying you back.” Then she took him into her mouth again and set a relentless pace, her tongue moving as she took him deep into her throat, one hand wrapping around the base. 

“Grace, I’m–” he tried to say, trying to pull away, but she only took him deeper, faster, and he came with a sharp cry. His hips jerked as she tasted him, almost coming again from just the sounds Matt was making. He was shaking as she used her tongue to keep him clean. 

When he finally stilled, she released him with a wet pop and then stood on shaky legs. Matt leaned his forehead against hers, panting as he tried to catch his breath. 

“I can’t stay away from you,” he said in a low voice.

“Then don’t,” she said, a challenge. Matt kissed her, lingering against her. 

“I mean it,” he said. “No one has ever made me so crazy like you. No one’s made me lose control like you. Not even–” 

It’s the way his words cut off that doused her in a cold chill as if the hot water had run out. Matt moved away, just enough, his expression troubled. Grace picked up her shampoo. Might as well finish the shower, she thought, though apprehension curled through her limbs and weighed her down. 

“Not even…?” she asked carefully. She made sure to keep her expression light, her heart steady, employing years of techniques she’d used to keep calm in terrifying situations. This wasn’t terrifying though–it was something else, an emotion she wasn’t familiar with. She ducked her head into the water to rinse out the suds. 

“Elektra.” Her name was a resigned sigh on Matt’s lips. He reached out before she could condition her hair, taking the bottle from her. Grace closed her eyes as his long fingers worked gently through the tangles. She hummed. The gesture was sweet, intimate, even more so than what they’d just done. 

“Ah,” Grace said as he worked the substance into her hair. “She the one who gave you the pink silk pajamas?” 

Matt huffed a laugh. One of his hands steadied her shoulder as he guided her head under the water to rinse. “No, though she would have been the one to buy me something expensive like that.” 

“What happened between you? Sorry–you just said before…” She bit the corner of her lip. “You said before that Daredevil always came between you and your relationships.” 

Matt didn’t say anything. He picked up the bar of soap–someone knowing that she’d been using his scentless soap instead of her own–and started lathering her body. His hands kneaded tight muscles, and she almost moaned at the sensation. It wasn’t sexual, but like him washing her hair, it was intimate. 

Right when she assumed he wouldn’t answer the question, Matt said, “She died.” 

Grace sucked in a breath. “Oh, Matt. I’m sorry.” 

“I–It was complicated. We weren’t…together at that time. But we could have been, if things had been different.” There was a tortured look on Matt’s face. She could see the pain in the tightness in his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. She didn’t want to press but the urge to know was almost overwhelming. It was all over his face, the love he’d had for this woman, the pain he still felt over her death. It was consuming her, this new, unknown emotion, dark and twisted and sharp in her gut. 

“I’m sorry,” she said again as the soap washed from her body. 

Matt switched off the water and reached out for their towels. “I should probably…tell you about her.” 

Grace suddenly had a name for the emotion. 

Jealousy. 

Matt touched her cheek with the back of his hand. He followed her into the bedroom. Her heart had picked up a bit and she hated that he could hear it. She didn’t want to care so much about a dead ex of Matt’s, but she did. 

“Only if you want to,” she said as she pulled out some pajamas. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.” 

Matt stood there, bathed in soft blue light from the sign outside, his head tilted to the side, towel slung low on his hips. Listening to her heart. To her lie. The light shifted to a darker blue. Water glistened across his chest. 

“You want me to,” he said, and it wasn’t a question or even an accusation. Merely a fact he was stating. 

Grace made a frustrated noise. “Stop–eavesdropping,” she said, which earned her half a smile. “Of course I do, but I respect your boundaries.” 

“I want to tell you about her,” he said. At the words, something within her eased and settled. 

“Then you have to put clothes on first.” He seemed confused, a little wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. “You’re too distracting,” she said, waving a hand at his body. 

Matt chuckled, but went to the dresser and pulled out underwear and a t-shirt. The droplets on his skin darkened the material of his shirt after he tugged it on. “Better?” 

“Much better.” 

Grace went back into the bathroom to finish her nighttime routine. Matt followed her and leaned against the open door, his arms crossed. She didn’t press, merely waited for him to tell her what he was going to tell her. 

“Elektra and I met in college,” Matt said after a couple of minutes. “We met at a fancy party Foggy and I were crashing. I left with her in a car she’d stolen, even though she was the daughter of diplomats and could have bought any car she wanted. She was…chaotic. Full of life. Unafraid. She had a mean streak, a sense of darkness and violence in her that took me a long time to see. I stopped going to class and almost flunked out. Our relationship ended with her taking me to the house of the man who’d ordered the death of my father. She tried to get me to kill him.” 

Grace’s breath hissed through her teeth in a sharp inhale. Questions brimmed at the tip of her tongue but she kept silent. 

“And when I didn’t give in, she left me.” Matt laughed without humor. “She left me, and it broke me. Foggy was the one who picked up the pieces, really. And then one day she showed up in my apartment here after Karen and I had gone on a date.” Matt rubbed at his hair with one hand, flinging water everywhere. Grace watched him, rapt, leaning back against the bathroom counter. “She tricked me into helping her, into getting involved with the Hand, and doing the one thing I’d sworn never to do–join Stick’s stupid holy war.” 

“I’m sorry,” Grace said, unable to help herself. “I just–Stick? The Hand?” 

Matt hummed and took a deep breath. “Sorry there’s–so much you don’t know. I don’t want to overwhelm you, but so many of the things that have happened to me, especially since becoming Daredevil, are all tied together. Stick is the blind man who trained me as a kid after I lost my dad. He taught me to fight, to use my abilities, and to do the two together. He actually trained Elektra too, but I didn’t know that until later. The Hand was…remember how I mentioned ancient ninjas? The Hand was this secret, ancient organization that Stick was training me to fight.” 

“That is…so you are a ninja?” Grace decided to joke, because maybe that would ease the shadows that were so clear on Matt’s face. He was in pain still, from all of this, from everything that had been done to him. She hadn’t missed that he said this Stick guy had trained him as a kid. 

“Something like that.” Matt’s jaw twitched. 

“Elektra was a ninja, too?” 

“Something like that,” he said again, softer. “Stick showed up in the midst of all of that, convinced that I had to join his cause with Elektra against the Hand. So I gave her a choice. To do things my way, to be with me, to be good, or lose me and fight in Stick’s war and give in to the violence inside herself. Because she–she enjoyed killing, and when I realized that–” He swallowed hard. “I knew she could be better, and she chose me. She and I understood each other, understood the violence that drove us both. And I wanted her to see that she could choose that path–to fight, but to do it in a way that wouldn’t break her. But the Hand–the Hand killed her when we fought them, before we could find out how things could be.” 

Grace covered her mouth with one hand. To love like that, and to lose someone you loved, someone who chose you over everything they’d ever known–she could see why Matt said he struggled with that darkness, and still struggled. “What happened to the Hand?” she asked after a moment. “Earlier you said the Hand was.”

“Well,” Matt said slowly. “This is where it gets hard to believe.” 

“Harder to believe than an ancient organization of ninjas and you being a blind ninja?” she asked skeptically. “It can’t be much harder to believe than that.” 

Matt walked away and sat at the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, head bent as if praying. It was her turn to lean in the doorway, watching him lay himself bare to her in a wholly different way. 

“The Hand brought Elektra back,” he said so quietly she was sure she’d misheard. 

“Back?” she repeated. “Like, they saved her after that fight?” 

Matt was shaking his head before she was finished. “No. We buried her. We had a small funeral, Stick and I. And then–I don’t know, they did some kind of ancient ritual or magic or–I don’t know what. But they brought her back somehow, without her memories, turned her into a perfect weapon they called the Black Sky.” 

Grace shut her mouth quickly when she realized it was hanging open. “I–You’re right, it’s pretty unbelievable.” 

Matt scoffed. “Yeah. It is. I saw it–well, experienced it–and I still couldn’t believe it. I held her as she died, and then, weeks later, she was trying to kill me.” 

“But what happened to the Hand? And she–you said she died.” Grace rubbed at her temples. “I’m sorry, it’s just–” 

“No, I know how it sounds. Trust me. The Hand built a skyscraper at Midland Circle.” 

“Oh,” Grace said as several pieces clicked into place at the name. She remembered seeing the collapse of the building all over the news. It had been sensationalized, although no one had been reported dead. For weeks, there had been debates of terrorism, a coverup, versus what they said had happened, which was a fault line causing the collapse. “Is that…the skyscraper that almost killed you?” 

“Mm. Yeah. I’m getting to that part. Long story short, I had the help of some…other people with abilities to fight the Hand throughout all of this. Elektra killed Stick and kidnapped Danny Rand–” 

“Danny Rand?” Grace said. “Sorry, I swear I don’t mean to interrupt but–billionaire Danny Rand?” 

“Yeah. He’s a ninja too, basically, but there’s more to it that isn’t relevant to this.” Grace blinked at Matt as he spoke, dazed. Danny Rand was also a ninja, which seemed less believable than Matt being a blind ninja. “They took him to Midland Circle, and what they were trying to accomplish was going to obliterate the city. So we went to rescue Danny and to stop them. They planted bombs to collapse the building. We went forty stories below the building to get Danny…and I sent the others out.” 

There was another long pause. Grace thought that, even if Matt had sight, he wouldn’t be seeing what was right in front of him. His gaze and mind were far away, down below that building and whatever had happened down there. 

“I didn’t expect to make it out alive, but I had to try. Elektra recognized me, and I had to try to appeal to her, get her to see that she could be good. With me. But–” His voice cracked slightly on the word. “The bombs went off, and the building came down. I–somehow, I made it out, but her body was never found. And the Hand…the rest of them were wiped out down there, too.” 

Grace sank on to the bed next to him. She hesitantly reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Jesus, Matt,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry for everything you went through.” 

Matt bobbed his head in a nod. “Yeah. Me too.” 

“I can’t believe–I mean, the woman you loved died twice, a building fell on your head, and–and you’re still living. You aren’t just existing, you’re living. You’re…if not happy, you’re getting there. You…amaze me.” Her gaze was hungry as it roved over him. Matt Murdock was a walking, talking miracle. A man who had faced every kind of darkness, who had faced death, and had come out on top. 

“Some days, yeah,” he said. He blinked and seemed to surface from the memory as if coming from deep water. “Foggy and Karen–they’re the ones who got me to see the light again, so to speak. After Fisk was released, we tried and tried to take him down and it didn’t work. And that darkness–the very same darkness that made me want to die in that building–it consumed me. I was going to kill him. Up until the very last moment, I was going to kill him. But I didn’t. And Foggy and Karen–they saw that goodness within me, and they kept me from going down that path.” He swallowed hard again.  

Her hand slid down his arm to lace her fingers with his. “I’m so, so glad.” 

He tilted his head to face her. “Me too,” he said softly. “Because it all led to you.” 

Her breath caught. “It’s–I’m not that special.” The words stuttered out of her as warmth settled in her cheeks. She wasn’t like this Elektra woman, who Matt said had been like him, who had understood him. Grace was just…no one. A girl who’d been dating the wrong guy, who’d ended up in Matt Murdock’s orbit by sheer chance. 

“Grace,” Matt said, her name a soft protest. “Do you not remember how this conversation started?” 

She blinked. All her mind conjured up was what they’d done in the shower and then his gentle hands washing her as he talked. “I’m sorry, the only thing coming to mind is…inappropriate.” 

He flashed her a grin but a hint of the shadows was still there. “I was telling you that no one had ever made me crazy or out of control like you do. Not even Elektra.” 

He sounded so earnest–so convicted–as he said it that she wanted to believe him. But a woman like Elektra, a woman he’d tried to save twice, who he said had understood him like no one else had understood him…It was hard to believe that she could come anywhere close in comparison.

“Please tell me what you’re thinking,” Matt finally said. “I can’t stand hearing what your thoughts are doing to your body and not knowing.” 

“I’m–I’m just normal, Matt. I’m nothing special. I’m not rich, I’m not a ninja, I’m not some secret badass who understands you on a deep level.” Humiliation washed over her like hot oil. It choked her. It stole her breath. “I just…ended up begging you for a job by chance.” 

“Grace.” Her name was almost a prayer. She closed her eyes. She fought the emotion rising within her, because it was so familiar to her–she wasn’t good enough, and she never would be. Matt touched her chin. “You don’t have to be rich or a ninja or a secret badass for me to like you. For you to be special. I’ve learned how kind and good you are, and that’s attractive to me.” 

She made a soft noise of protest that was halfway a scoff. “Besides,” she said, ignoring him. “Is it–even a good thing that I make you crazy and out of control?” 

He rolled his eyes. “That’s what you’re worried about here?” he said. “I meant that as in…I’m crazy about you. And you make me–want to kiss you every second I’m around you. You make me make bets with you when I’m drunk just so I can touch you.” 

A small thrill went through her. “You can touch me whenever you want, Matt,” she said softly. “I just–sorry. I’m new to the relationship thing, believe it or not.” 

Matt smirked. “Me too. My last serious girlfriend left me in college because I wouldn’t kill a man, then died, was resurrected, tried to kill me, and died again.”

“Elektra was your last serious girlfriend?” she asked, surprised. 

“If you can even count it as serious. I loved her, if that’s what you mean, but our relationship was never…conventional. It wasn’t…healthy. It might have been, if things had worked out, but…Otherwise I had a few dates here and there, one night stands…that’s about it.” He shrugged. 

“My only serious relationship was set up by our parents and it turned out he’s an evil bastard, so…” She chewed on the corner of her lip and fiddled with a thread on the sheets. “So is this…serious?” 

“If you want it to be.” His voice was so soft, so gentle, she wanted to cry. “But I want it to be.” 

“I do, too. But I don’t think this counts as a conventional relationship, either. I mean, we worked together and lived together first. Then there was the whole bet thing…And we haven’t been on a proper date yet.” Grace nudged his knee with hers. 

“I think I like it better this way,” he murmured before he kissed her. “I’ve never been friends with a woman before dating, unless you count my two dates with Karen.” 

“Matt, I think you’re a whore,” she said around a laugh. 

“A whore?” he repeated with raised eyebrows. 

“Yeah. I mean, you’ve had one serious relationship, have never been friends with a woman before dating, apparently had a lot of one night stands…You’re a whore.” She laughed again at the expression on his face. 

“It does sound kind of bad when you put it like that,” he said. 

“I’m kidding, though. It’s just funny to hear you say it like that. We’re a pair, aren’t we? We’ve each had one serious relationship and neither of them were…healthy.” Grace bit back a yawn as she talked. She wanted to stay up with Matt all night. She’d never enjoyed someone’s company so much, even when he was talking about his badass ninja ex-girlfriend. 

But of course Matt’s head tilted and he said, “You’re tired. You should sleep.” 

He went to stand but she grabbed his wrist. “You might as well start sleeping in the bed, Matt.” At his clear hesitation she hurriedly added, “If you want to.”

“I do, I just–don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“It won’t make me uncomfortable, I promise. Besides, there’s plenty of room.” She stroked a finger across his wrist. She studied him, his tension, and decided to switch tactics. “Please? It makes me feel safer with you next to me.” 

It was the truth, and Matt knew it. He immediately softened. “Of course,” he said. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before rounding the bed and slipping between the sheets. 

Grace followed his example with an excited shiver. She felt almost giddy about having him sleep in the bed with her. He wanted their relationship to be serious–something she’d never imagined could be true. And now, here he was, laying beside her like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

She curled on her side to face him. She pillowed her head on her hands and studied him openly. “I should have probably asked which side of the bed you sleep on.” 

“The middle, actually,” he said with a quirk of his lips. He was on his back, but he rolled onto his side to face her. “So I might end up on top of you.” 

Electricity prickled through her at his words. “Trust me, I would have no problem with that.” 

His grin flashed in the darkness. “I don’t think I would either.” 

“I’m just–used to sleeping on this side, is all. But I can switch, however it makes you most comfortable.” 

He reached out and with unerring accuracy brushed a strand of her hair out of her face. “I’m plenty comfortable, don’t worry.” The lines of his face had softened. He was tired too. She’d almost forgotten that earlier he’d been out as Daredevil, fighting, going up against at least one or maybe all of the men who’d broken in. 

Grace yawned. 

“Sleep, Grace,” Matt said as his hand moved from her hair to stroke the side of her face. The sensation was calming. Her muscles unclenched and her body sank a bit deeper into the mattress. 

“Mm.” He gently brushed his fingers across her forehead and over her cheek. The repeated movement was making her more tired. “Goodnight, Matt.” 

“Goodnight.” 

Within minutes, sleep had claimed her with its long fingers, pulling her under and rocking her on gentle waves.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@zaminoo​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @yanna-banana​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @bellal1 @thetrinitytest​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @harry-bowie-mercury​​​​​​​​​​ @lorosette​​​​​​​​​ @feliciab1990​

[thepassionof-joanharrow]

This is How We Walk on the Moon ~Chapter 2: Matt’s POV | Matt Murdock x OFC

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Summary: Sura Harmon works for a nonprofit foundation in NYC and goes to Nelson and Murdock to find some lawyers for the foundation’s clients. Upon meeting Matt, he seems strangely familiar. Matt instantly recognizes Sura as someone he attempted to help while in his Daredevil suit just a week ago. As they continue to work together, Sura and Matt are drawn to each other more and more.

But little does Matt Murdock know that his new colleague Sura Harmon has just as many secrets as he does.

Warnings: Eventual smut, (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), swearing, discussion of trauma, death and mental illness, emotional angst, discussion of the blip/snap.  

Word Count for Chapter 2: 1,994

A/N: This is an ongoing series and will have many chapters! Mostly Sura’s POV but will probably have some chapters be in Matt’s POV.

Also, aside from the prologue, each chapter will have a song to go with it. I highly encourage you to listen to the song to give you the vibe for some of the scenes in that chapter!

*This chapter does not have a song*

“Yes, Matt, this is Sura Harmon. She’s with the Harmon-Brookes foundation.” Karen had gently directed Matt’s body to where their guest was sitting as she made the introduction.

The woman in front of him stood up as Matt came closer.  He greeted her and held out his hand. “Hello Ms. Harmon, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Matt Murdock.”

He felt her reach out and grab his hand in hers, firmly and confidently.  “Hello, it’s nice to meet you!” She was smiling at him.

“Thank you for coming here, we’re excited to hear about your foundation.”  Matt smiled back at her.

“Oh no, thank you for having me. The foundation is very excited to possibly work with your firm Mr. Murdock”

Matt froze.

He had sensed something at first. Right when she said her first sentence. No, before that. When he had smelled her. Faint vanilla and sandalwood. This time heavier on the vanilla. But underneath all that; her unique smell was there as well.

But it wasn’t until after she said “Mr. Murdock” that he fully realized who this was. The woman from the alley a week ago. The one who had been attacked and then had fought off her attacker. The one who had been hitting the wall and crying.

How the hell….Matt thought. Okay, crazy coincidence. Just, act normal. It’ll be fine.

Matt hoped he hadn’t looked noticeably shocked. Thankfully Karen led them both into the meeting room and offered up tea or coffee.

 As they sat down across from each other at the table, Matt thought back to that night. It was a most interesting experience, and not just because she had defended herself. That was explainable. But she had been upset at something, had been so frustrated and angry about something that she had been hitting the wall and crying. He knew that the injuries to her hands had mostly come from herself.

Logically he knew that the most likely answer to this was that she was upset that she had been attacked to begin with. Maybe she had been attacked before and felt ashamed at being targeted again. He had talked to enough women that he knew some of them felt intense shame over being attacked, even though it wasn’t their fault and there was nothing that could have prevented it.

But somehow, he didn’t feel like this was the answer. And that’s the real thing that had made the encounter so strange.

Matt had thought about that night a good deal in the week since it happened, a lot more time than he usually spent thinking about his patrol efforts. He had realized that she hadn’t seemed to be concerned with the man who had attacked her at all.  Most people in that situation would at least describe what had happened, how the person had attacked them or what they were after, etc. Even a “he came from nowhere, I didn’t see him!” was something he commonly heard. But from Sura? She had barely acknowledged her attacker, just remarking that he would be fine.

And she had been snarky with him. Sarcastic. Who’s sarcastic to someone right after they’ve gotten attacked? Someone just trying to help them? Wouldn't she just be scared or relieved?

Again, maybe it was shame turning into snark as a defense mechanism. But…

It didn’t add up and it was driving him mildly crazy.

Who is this woman?? He wondered, right as he realized that she had been staring at him. Well, time to get to know her a bit.

“Didn’t expect to find a blind lawyer at this meeting Ms. Harmon?” He smiled at her slightly.

He could feel her heartbeat jolt. “What?…oh…no….”

Yup, classic response. “Hey, its okay, I’m used to people being surprised. I could tell you were staring.”

Sura’s voice was steadier this time. “Oh I apologize…I was looking at you but not because you’re blind….”

“Oh?” He grinned a little. He wasn’t used to strangers actually saying the word “blind” so freely to him. Most people tip-toed around that word.

“You actually look familiar to me. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I was just trying to figure out where I might have seen you before.” Her heartbeat was still faster than normal but it had steadied a bit.

Matt froze again. Familiar? Does she recognize me?  How could she recognize me? No one ever recognizes me. Well, Frank but….that was after a lot of time….she saw me once. We barely talked. It was dark. My suit was on, my mask was on. What the hell? Did she actually see me somewhere else?

Sura interrupted his frantic thoughts.  “Have we met before?”

He cleared his throat. He had to shoot this down, right now.  “Uh,..no…Ms. Harmon, I don’t believe we have. Unfortunately I can’t say whether or not you look familiar.” 

Just make her laugh, be charming, funny Matthew Murdock, attorney at law. “But you don’t sound familiar, no”, he finished.

“Ah.” Sura said and he could practically hear her brain turning things around. “Well maybe it will come to me later. Or maybe you just have one of those faces?”

“Maybe so.” Or maybe you have an uncanny ability to recognize someone from just their jawline and mouth. In the dark.

She smiled at him.

Hopefully she will forget about it. Chalk it up to seeing me at the courthouse or something.   

Sura began asking “So, Mr. Murdock, how long have…” but Foggy had come into the room.

He had to talk to him, now.

After they had greeted each other, he motioned to Foggy and asked him if they could to speak privately.

Foggy was definitely taken aback by this request but he quickly realized that Matt would not have interrupted a meeting to talk if it wasn’t important. He told Sura that they would just be a moment and Matt closed the door after they left.

 “Foggy.” He whispered. “She recognizes me.”

“Huh?” Foggy was a bit lost. “Okay, you worked with her before?”

Matt opened his mouth but Foggy’s breath rose and he suddenly whisper-screamed “Wait, did you sleep with her Matt???”

“No, Foggy,…” He gave an exasperated sigh. “She recognizes me.”

Foggy was silent.

“The other me.” Matt added.

Foggy’s eyes grew wide. His mouth opened in an O of surprise. “What!? When? Where?”

“Look I can’t tell you all the details now but it was about a week ago, nothing much happened. And it was dark, I had the full suit on.”  Matt put his hands on his hips.

“So how would she recognize you?”

“Exactly. I felt her staring at me and she said I looked familiar and then asked if we had met before.”

“And what did she say to that?”

“What did you say?”

“What do you think I said? I said that we hadn’t met before and that she didn’t seem familiar!”

Matt chuckled a bit “Heh, but we are definitely not too busy and we actually need clients Foggy. I think she would be able to see through that lie. Something tells me.” He bit his lower lip for a moment as he thought.

“She just…” Matt rubbed a couple fingers on his forehead. “She just said maybe I had one of those faces.  I dunno, maybe she believed me and thinks she saw me in court or something.”

“Okay well….let’s hope so. Do you want to go through with this? If it’s too risky we can cancel. Say something like…we are busier than we thought and can’t take any more clients.”

“No its okay, I don’t think it’s too risky. We just have to play it safe.”

“You mean, you, you have to play it safe.” Foggy pointed at him. “You know my lips are sealed Matt. And I’m not the one running around at night with devil horns saving the city”

“Yeah, yeah, I know buddy.” Matt laughed and put a hand on his back. “Let’s go back in I don’t want her getting suspicious.”

Why does she think she needs to apologize? I’m loving this. She….and the foundation, sounds amazing.  I want to hear all about it.

 Throughout the meeting, Matt had a hard time reconciling the Sura he had encountered in the alley with the one who sat before him. This Sura was confident, speaking with a steady, sure voice.  He noticed that she chose her words carefully, sometimes a slight pause before she finished a sentence or settled on a final word. Her only moments of unsteadiness came when she talked about herself, sometimes apologizing for rambling.

She was also undoubtedly sure of the foundation’s work, and passionate about it. Her heart beat a little faster when she described what the foundation was trying to do for the people of New York.  And when he complimented her passion and the foundation’s success, she blushed. 

Adorable.

She seemed so business like; professional and to the point at first. But these moments when she talked about her own efforts, or when she was complimented, something began to fall. Like a curtain being pulled aside a bit, revealing who she was behind the successful business woman. A glimpse of the Sura he had met in the alley.

That woman had definitely been equally as passionate, but it was a passion let loose, exploding with fiery, angry emotions.   And yet, when she confronted him about being the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, it was with that same blunt surety she displayed here.

Matt really didn’t need to listen to the whole thing to realize that he definitely wanted to work with this foundation. With Sura. This group seemed to be exactly on his level. Their goal was his goal: help the people of this city, whatever the need.  And he couldn’t deny that her passion was exhilarating.

“Then I think that settles it. We’d love to work with you all.” Matt told a beaming Sura. 

Foggy looked in his direction with a raised eyebrow. He just smiled back at him.  Foggy sighed a bit, realizing that the decision had been made and there was no need to discuss it privately. When Matt was this sure of something, there was nothing Foggy could do to talk him out of it. 

 After Sura had left, Matt was beaming.

“I know that look Matt.”

Foggy looked at him with a “give me a break” expression. 

“What?” Matt laughed.  “Oh come on Foggy”

“Look, how often do we have nonprofit foundations come in here with zero bougie attitude and tell us they are just trying to help New Yorkers? I’m excited.  Think of all the people we can help by teaming up with Brookes and Harmon.”

“Hey, I really like her passion. And her foundation seems amazing. I’m excited to work with them.”

“Yeah, I bet you are.”

“Oh, I know. But you definitely think she’s the most amazing part of this all.”

“From us, from the world, everything. I don’t know. It’s odd.”

Matt chuckled sheepishly. “Look, she’s…intriguing. She’s so different from when I tried to help her a week ago. I don’t know what’s up with her though.” He rubbed his chin.  “She seemed so…honest and earnest about everything she said. But at the same time I can tell there is something she is hiding.”

“Hiding from us?” Foggy asked.

“Okay.” Foggy mused for a moment, looking at the door where Sura had recently exited. “What do you think, think she remembers where she knows you from?”

“Well do you think this is a good idea to work with them or not? I don’t want to get mixed up in something…”

Matt cut him off with a hand held up. “No no, the foundation is fine. And she was telling the truth about everything. It’s just something else about her. Something personal I think. But I get the feeling its not tied to her work. This will be a good collaboration!”

“No, I don’t think she has a clue.” Matt said. “And let’s keep it that way.”

[yarrystyleeza]

Too Sweet!!!

Just a sweet little thing exclusive for my tumblrinas bc you're special to me!!! 💖💖💖💖💖

Bonus:

Full page:

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God Masterlist

PAIRING: Matt Murdock x OFC

AO3 — Spotify — #foreigner’s god

❝ Sometimes, the greatest power lies not in what we can control, but in what we can uncover within ourselves. In the depths of darkness, secrets await, and it is our choice to embrace them or let them consume us. Together, they embarked on a journey to unearth the truth, unaware that love, like a tempest, would shatter all their plans and rebuild their world anew. ❞

⤹ SUMMARY:

She was born with the ability to manipulate reality and the world around her. Hydra raised her and turned her into their deadliest weapon until the Avengers saved her and offered her a chance at a better life. A dark past often comes with secrets that demand to be uncovered. There might actually be more to it than meets the eye, a kind of power that’s been sleeping deep within her, waiting to be discovered. But how does one get over losing everything without losing themselves?

One reckless night on a rooftop, a bad decision leads the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen right into her arms, and he decides to tag along on her journey down the past.

As it turns out, Matt Murdock is a man unable to take no for an answer when he has set his mind to something, and once she decides to let him into her heart, all the plans she made for the future fall apart.

Or, in which a troubled Avenger forms an alliance with Daredevil to fight a common enemy and save their city, but they end up saving each other instead.

⤹ CONTENT WARNINGS:

SLOW BURN, Canon typical violence, ANGST, EVENTUAL SMUT, light BDSM, Oral sex, daddy kink, praise & pain kink, blood & cum play, Switch!Matt, toxic behavior, language, severe mental illness, PTSD, implied/referenced torture, substance abuse disorder, self-harm, mentions of sexual assault, Hydra, age gap, religious imagery and symbolism, eventual romance, some fluff, mutant powers, mentions of child molestation, near-death experiences, catholic guilt, NOT TONY STARK FRIENDLY (at least until chapter 40 or so), turning good characters into bad guys, not completely canon compliant

-> There will be chapter-specific warnings before each chapter because they tend to vary with each one!

⤹ AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hello everyone! I didn’t expect this to blow up the way it did, so I decided to edit the entire Masterlist and repost it while I continue editing the chapters on AO3 and here, too. Welcome to everyone who’s new here!

Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

I’m trying not to describe any specific physical traits like body shape, hair color, etc. (although I think I called her skin “pale” once or twice in reference to her lack of sun exposure) in any of the chapters. The character was assigned female at birth and also identifies as female with she/her pronouns, but other than that, I do not give her any traits other than her name – Eliza Bennett. Her looks are entirely up to your imagination! So you can view this as a reader insert or not, whatever you want. It’s up to you how you interpret this story.

-> Series takes place in early season 2 and continues from there on.

-> This work is 18+ ONLY!

[the asterisk (*) indicates explicit sexual content; (^) indicates the chapter has been edited to fit the new style]

— ACT ONE: HYDRA —

chapter one: I Did Something Bad (^)

chapter two: Raise A Little Hell (^)

chapter three: I Think He Knows (^)

chapter four: This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things (^)

chapter five: Hold Me While You Wait (^)

chapter six: Ivy (^)

chapter seven: right where you left me (^)

chapter eight: doomsday (^)

chapter nine: Block Me Out  (^)

chapter ten: 1 step forward, 3 steps back (^)

chapter eleven: New Invention (^)

chapter twelve: It’s Nice To Have A Friend (^)

chapter thirteen: Devil Town (^)

chapter fourteen: Family Line (^)

chapter fifteen: So it goes…* (^)

chapter sixteen: Do I Wanna Know?* (^)

chapter seventeen: Look Who’s Inside Again (^)

chapter eighteen: Anti-Hero (^)

chapter nineteen: You’re On Your Own Kid  (^)

chapter twenty: Innocent* (^)

chapter twenty-one: Green, Green Dress*

chapter twenty-two: mirrorball*

chapter twenty-three: The Avengers (pt.1) 

chapter twenty-four: The Avengers (pt.2) 

chapter twenty-five: For Real This Time 

chapter twenty-six: Black Out Days 

chapter twenty-seven: Dear Reader

chapter twenty-eight: Look What You Made Me Do 

chapter twenty-nine (Bonus Chapter): Haunted

chapter thirty: Hayloft II

chapter thirty-one: Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)

chapter thirty-two: Chasing Cars

chapter thirty-three: How To Save A Life

chapter thirty-four: Foreigner’s God(*)

chapter thirty-five: long story short*

chapter thirty-six: this is me trying*

chapter thirty-seven: New Romantics*

chapter thirty-eight: Lavender Haze*

chapter thirty-nine: As It Was*

chapter forty: Monster*

chapter forty-one: Daylight

— ACT TWO: PUNISHER —

chapter forty-two: I’ll Get The Coffee*

chapter forty-three: She Knows*

chapter forty-four: Cold As You 

chapter forty-five: Bird Set Free 

chapter forty-six: Human*

chapter forty-seven: Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve (^)

chapter forty-eight: Bad Blood (^)

chapter forty-nine: Dark Paradise (^)

chapter fifty: Meet Me In The Hallway (^)

chapter fifty-one: Demons (^)

chapter fifty-two: Say You Won't Let Go (^)

chapter fifty-three: I Will Be Your Remedy (^)

chapter fifty-four: Dancing With The Devil (^)

chapter fifty-five: Why Am I Like This? (^)

[jahayla-parker]

Matthew Murdock / Daredevil Navigation

NAVIGATION TOOLS:

FLUFF: ~

ANGST: *

Banners below sort fics based on type of work(s)

Coming soon (requests for Matt / Daredevil OPEN)

Coming soon (requests for Matt / Daredevil OPEN)

Coming soon (requests for Matt / Daredevil OPEN)

Coming soon (requests for Matt / Daredevil OPEN)

Request info (requests for Matt / Daredevil OPEN)

All My Works Navigation

[bellaxgiornata]

Made a banner for one of my Matt Murdock x Original Female Character series Life Worth Living. So far it is only on AO3 but I'll eventually transfer it over soon! It's just under 250k words as of now. If you like the Defenders (especially Jessica Jones) and a mysterious original character with her own secrets she's unraveling and lots of plot twists, you might enjoy this series! There is smut, fluff, romance, angst, and lots of surprises (but if you pay close attention I'm always dropping little breadcrumb clues...). The story is 18+ and definitely heed the tags (OC has a very traumatic past).

Summary: When Olivia Allen moves to Hell's Kitchen hoping to start over in a new city, she doesn't expect to form a crush on her charming and persistent neighbor, Matt Murdock. Plagued by her past and desperate to be "normal," Olivia must come to terms with who she is in order to protect the life she fought hard to build. But as she eventually learns, her powerful and dangerous ex-boyfriend isn't the only one she needs to worry about. After all, there's secrets about herself even she never knew...

[folkoreluvr]

return of the dragon I - the prodigal child returns

loki x fem oc (stark)

summary: eight years ago, gracielle stark was banished from new york and all but disowned by her father Tony Stark. now shes back with a hazy past and powers she cant quite control. ones that her enemy, loki odinson knows all too well. and when people from graces past return with threats grace loki offers a helping hand in order to get close to her and figure out her true intentions.

warnings (gonna put these at the start of the fic and then not on seperate chapters so heres all warnings for the entire fic): blood, gore, graphic descriptions of violence and injury, death, murder, sex, smut, sexual assult, grooming (not romantic), readers a stark so gals fucked up, tony stark, slight kink content, gay people, not very canon compliant, stick the dick

w/c: 1.8k

authors note: im posting a ton about this on tiktok and its also being published on my wattpad- both are under midnightsloki. thanks for reading

It had been eight years since the fall of Gracielle Stark, since she had fled New York and the grasp of her soul-sucking family.

She had once belonged to the inventor dynasty, the great Stark family but grace had been too different and she had no intent of being like her father or the four generations before him. She was no scientist or inventor or even capable of social situations, she was a recluse. she hated parties and politics and business and making tech. She had been 16 when it had happened, her banishment, but the wound that had been caused was still bleeding and it was too deep to stitch up and bandage and get over it. Her father had granted her the life she wanted by erasing her from his own, if he had claimed her so much on a whim she couldn't pretend to be shocked when Tony Stark had dropped her. Blood may run thicker than water but it can slip between your fingers just the same. but This time it's different, for everyone, this time when she stands in a loud room and sips on a strong drink in a dress no short of elegant she knows that her father did not place her there, nor can he dispense her. Not this time. she would take back what he stole from her, she could play happy families if it meant finally  getting revenge on her father for all the heartache he had caused her.

“We are about to be late to my own party where the hell is she.” Tony Stark murmured with annoyance, glancing anxiously at the Rolex his wife had gifted him last Christmas.

“She’ll be here Tony relax, don't scare our daughter away before we even get her back.” Pepper Potts had said whilst she fixed the bowtie on his collar. Whilst pepper had been ever so happy to get her “step” daughter back, Tony had been nervous. He knew he had been her ruin eight years ago and understood the deep hatred his daughter harboured for him because of it. Then the pair had heard the clipping of her gold tom ford heels as grace approached them holding her three year old sister Morgan. Her dress was made of soft silk, the olive green fabric flowed lightly all the way to her feet, the straps on her shoulders glimmered in gold and her jewellery was gold to match, two emerald green earrings that dangled softly. Her hands were scattered in gold rings and her wrists had small gold bangles latched on, a gold choker with emeralds floating along it completed her jewellery. Her signature burgundy lipstick was painted across her fake smile and her hair had been tied up as usual. Tonight it is part of her hair pulled back and into a twist. She looked as elegant as she always had and now that she was older she looked it even more.

“what happened to your dress” was all her dad could say as his three year old daughter ran over to him. His eldest rolled her dark eyes, the same eyes as him, and pulled her phone out of her Vivienne Westwood clutch.

“I wanted to wear this one, its more my style don’t you think?” she asked, pushing a piece of her brown hair off her shoulder as her mother gave her a quick kiss to her cheek.

“you were supposed to wear red, we need to look united and normal so people are less judging.” Tony stark was reaching the end of his short tether and as per usual his daughter was making him question his sanity. He found being an avenger easier than raising a daughter.

“ we look scarily alike dad I think people will know I’m your daughter, besides green is more my colour.”

“funny, there’s a very grouchy god who likes to say the same thing.” But a quick glance at his watch showed him he did not have the time to make digs at his least favourite avenger, “ok we need to go now, Happy is waiting in the car” and with that the wealthy family made their way to the party. The car ride was almost entirely silent with the two most stubborn starks not talking. Pepper had tried making small talk to smother the uncomfortable silence but her futile attempts had ceased after seeing the shared scowl across both of their faces. The event celebrating 85 years of stark industries was being held at the plaza. High ups at the company were invited along with family friends, potential investors and even the avengers team were to be in attendance tonight, now with their newest member. Graces hands began to shake with nerves, everyone would be watching her every move, trying to prod and poke at the mystery that is Grace Stark. With a deep breath she raised her head and straightened her shoulders and pushed open the doors to the golden hall. As she had already guessed, almost everyone turned to look at her but she did her best to ignore them and her rattling nerves as she descended down the luxurious carpet stairs and walked straight to the bar to settle her anxious stomach.

After three hours of endless, meaningless conversation and gin grace was ready to go home. Parties like these always dragged on, there was rarely anyone her age in attendance and the music was always stuffy. Natasha was drawling on about a mission she had just been on but Grace wasn’t listening, her attention was caught on the tall man stood in the corner, his black hair was slicked back and his green eyes focused on the crowd. He wore a slick black suit that almost looked like armour stretched across his godly shoulders. The man was Loki Odinson, her father’s worst enemy and the younger brother of Thor Odinson. He carried himself like a prince, with strong posture that radiated dignity and a calculated look that made him look dangerous, if the rest of him wasn’t already a giveaway. He was easily the tallest person in the room, taller than his muscular hunk of a brother even. It made him stand out like a sore thumb and she imagined he hated it as he looked as if he was hiding in the corner and she certainly  could not blame him

A woman on the terrace caught his attention, her soft curls blowing in the soft evening wind and her green ensemble drawing him to her. It was something different about her that kept his curious gaze on her. She looked familiar, like he had seen her before somewhere but Loki couldn’t place it.

“who is the woman talking to Natasha?” the god asked, turning to his brother who smirked irritatingly before answering.

“that is lady grace, she’s the new avenger that’s moved in the room opposite yours, how have you two not crossed paths already brother?” Thor had laughed loudly which made Loki internally cringe.

“she looks eerily familiar is all” his suave voice spoke, hiding the interest he had taken to the beautiful girl with the dark eyes.

“she’s starks daughter” his slight smirk had instantly faded the minute the name of that vile man had left Thor's lips. the norns were playing their cruel tricks on Loki again, the only woman Loki had taken even the slightest of interest to in the two years being on this planet just had to be the offspring of the man he hated most. The vain, greedy and horrid man could not have created such a stunning creature, it just wasn’t possible. She would probably be just as bad as he is, Loki thought with a grimace. Two starks, the norns were being cruel to him indeed.

Grace turned to look at the god lingering in the corner and caught her breath in her throat as she saw that he was already looking at her. She had stared at him until her face started to flush like a schoolgirl with a crush. Loki watched her for the remainder of the night, not thinking much of it until she laughed at a joke Clint Barton made and a nearby candle stick that had been left unlit burst to life with a flickering flame. Loki knew none of his fellow avengers possessed any sort of power that would be capable of doing that, he also knew of how rare that sort of power is. It had last been one and a half thousand years since someone had possessed power like it.

|~|~|

Dracoris was a being on Asgard who controlled and summoned fire, they rode the large, fire breathing scaled beasts known as dragons or drekki  and fought in gruesome, violent wars that people don't even dare to talk about it. Their power was almost unstoppable, being passed between people at the decision of a mysterious and unbreakable jade green stone. Odin's daughter and heir, Princess Hela had wanted this power for herself however and so she decided to take it using the only magic in Asgard that was forbidden, blood magic. When her spell had failed and her blind rage had taken over the princess had slaughtered Dracoris in her rage, killing the last dragons on Asgard too. The three unhatched eggs were stolen from their beds of fire in Asgard's north caves where dragons lived and brought back to the palace. Upon Hela’s imprisonment the eggs were placed in the Odin’s vault.  But no amount of fire made them hatch and without their queen the unborn dragons lay cold.

Dracoris never retuned not for over a hundred years and people began to worry, none more so that the great king Odin. He was on the very brink of war with the frost giants, and pure dragon fire was the very thing he needed to win the fight with laufey and his giants.

On the stormiest night Asgard had ever seen a huntched old man covered In a tattered black cape had demanded an audience with the king and queen. the man revealed a prophecy on the return of Dracoris.

it will be many years, more than a thousand but the dragon will return. The dragons will soar the skies and the realm will see peace like any other. she will not be born to Asgard but shall be brought by love and fire. Dracoris will marry the eldest child of the rightful heir to the throne and their child shall have the blood of old elementia.

Odin had been overjoyed, almost bouncing with giddy. He smiled over at his expecting wife, content in the fact that his child would bring about the return of the dragon. haggard old man said one more thing before he left: they shall call her the dragon princess then later the dragon queen. the first that has ever been.

[audreyclimbs]

Hehe ik it’s been a little bit but I’m making up for my absence with a 3k word chapter, will try to have it up tonight 🤗🤗🤗😚😚😚

foreseen in shadows: masterlist

matt murdock x fem!oc

cw: canon-typical violence, big time miscommunications the whole time lol, major character death, eventual nsfw, matt being a simp

prologue

chapter 1:

chapter 2:

[ctheathy]

Yandere Sails Headcanons

Sails x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Important information that this takes place after Knuckles the Dread got his hands on the prism shard. His insanity gets confused with Sails’ obsession and it causes the crew to fall apart.

Sails/Reader [Romantic//Platonic]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Possessiveness • Overprotective behaviour • Implied death • Violence • Attempted drowning • Isolation • Abduction • Jealousy • Assault • Forced affection • Clinginess • Threats • Greed • Demise of important character role

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙

Sails is somebody who already grew up in a habitat surrounding both adventurous and tricky situations to begin with. He isn’t one to shy away from taking risks and seems to be in constant search for another case he could deem as exciting. The fox can also be seen as quite the daredevil, not backing down from any challenge being put in his way. But aside from all that, he remains to be a good soul. He holds the kindness in his heart his original counterpart has, looking out and caring for his crew while helping in any way possible. He prioritzes the safety of his team, whom he quite literally views as his one and only family and would do a lot to ensure their welfare.

But ... There has seemingly been one weakness stated during his appearances in the show. One that cannot be healed by any method or through other means, not with his doomed fate among No Place atleast. His gruesome despise towards living the same thing over and over again. One that might be the exact little push he needs to create a brief change in the personality of the sweet fox we all grew accustomed to. And which makes him a lot more vulnerable to the idea of him living in a loop. It feels like a curse to him, traumatizing even. He just has his little need for constant new opportunities and adventure, otherwise life would get rather ... Boring to him, an empty and draining feeling eating away at the fox, unable to be cured no matter how much those around him try to cheer him up for it. Which may even be the start of where the now familiar unhealthy mindset and coping mechanisms start to become noticeable in the first place.

Even just meeting him right from the start is going to end up as one hell of a rollercoaster. Him and his crew aren’t prone to trusting those who they just met right off the bat. But in a way, Sails is going to be feeling intrigued by you. He’s never seen anything such as yourself before. You’re... A new experience. The beginning of everything seemed so innocent at first ... Sails allowed you onto the crew’s ship as he practically kept looking for whatever excuse he could get his grabby hands on to prevent you from just being eliminated on the spot. He promised his cooperation on the Captain’s desires, who was currently obsessing over the shard, and that he’d take immediate responsibility for this new scallywag. And him technically being the brains of the team, both Batten and Black didn’t have much to argue against, assuming the decision to be beneficial for all of them.

Oh, were they wrong ...

Right at the start of your temporary stay, you’d be spending most of your time with Sails around the crow’s nest. And for being a mere stranger, he was sincerely ... A curious one to say the least, and he certainly seemed on the excited side as well. He would constantly bombard you with questions for the time being, some really personal ones too ... The mobian seemed rather at ease and shameless when it came to being touchy with you. It had almost been as if personal space and private information was practically meant to be nonexistent in this universe. It made you uneasy. You may have been let onto the ship, but enough strict rules were attached to it that could have easily made it a regrettable decision. Despite figuring if you should just dip and jump off the ship or not, your thoughts were quickly interrupted by the request to meet ... Their captain. But the fox mobian you grew acquainted with in the meantime seemed strangely unhappy and dissatisfied about the fact you were going to have a proper introduction. He’d noticeably cling to your side for the entire meeting, feeling unusually possessive over you. The conduct leaving the rest of the crew to ponder whenever they made a mistake.

Taking a look at his yandere behaviour, it’s important to keep in mind any of the realistic aspects on real pirates and the traits whom they may hold; unmerciful and ruthless ... Stopping at nothing to gain whatever caught the eye. Being a pirate, he’s naturally going to feel lured in by things that could be deemed as shining, and his attraction only goes so far. Unknowingly even having turned into a predatory and power-hungry mobian over time, a part of him who he would have wished to avoid in modern times. But atlas, his greed would noticeably start to grow recklessly, to where at some point he is literally close to unrecognisable.

It’s horrifying to even witness for anyone around, to realise what affects selfishness can have on a once charming and adventurous soul. Even his crew would have no idea what to do with him, as while the growth of his violence and these new boosts of aggressiveness can certainly help during any considerable fights; he grows more and more inattentive torwards them too, finding them to be insignificant. Over time, he starts operating more on his own instead of that with his crew. His selfish and unbeneficial actions speaking for themselves as he slowly grows more distant.

He also deems the others to be delusional whenever they mention his change in literal identity. You could easily notice him growing more confrontational when the topic is brought up, leaving the crew to slowly... Lose hope on him. And the worst part is that the team considers Dread having been preoccupied by the light of the prism shard as reason behind why Sails is behaving the way he is, being the influence behind his sudden changes in behaviour. While realistically, these reasonings are far from connected with one another. But despite this;

That won’t change the fact that a life was lost that day after the abandonment .

As for harm’s sake, he is surprisingly one of the most brutal. Living amongst the ocean limits a ton of the punishments for his doings and it sure has brought in a lot of confidence in getting away with what he does. Something that he had started realising aswell is how it also wouldn’t really require much to keep any of his nemesis in their place. As he takes care of the threat, usually resulting in either just dumping the said problem overboard, leaving the sharks to deal with the defenseless mobian on their own or by simply pushing the razor sharp tip of his cutlass at their throats, being left at his mercy. But he won’t be hesitant to take a darker turn when it includes your sake either.

There’s one of the many, many events you had remembered in particular, one that had gone so unimaginably bad. One that resulted in the use of some more brutal lengths to defeat the said ‘thief’ attempt. The poor creature was being held remorselessly by the calf with Sails’ mechanical hand, an obvious way too tight grip on the leg as they were being left to dangle above the deep oceans. They were being swung around which could have easily caused the breakage of the said limb, all while they were continuously being dunked into the waters with no sign of mercy or regret being visible in the act. Every time they were forced to stay put underwater for longer ... And longer. All while you could do nothing but watch fromout the border of the Angel’s Voyage. You could clearly see the glint in his eyes. There had been a terrifying gleam of insanity in Sails’ once gentle blue eyes. One of pure joy all while he was attempting to drown the victim who was now desperately trying to free themselves from his grasp. It hadn’t been until you yelled at him on the top of your lungs that he quit the torturous deed. But that memory. That horrifying imagery of him yet continues to live on in the back of your mind.

He would likely reach a point where he’d most certainly consider you his treasure ... Making him a whole lot more possessive than his other counterparts. He deems you to be a helpless being in need of his guidance in order to survive the current circumstances you’re in. He knows you’re stuck here and quite frankly have nowhere to go to. And now with the lack of hope and distrust considering the rest of the crew and the absence of a proper captain, he makes sure going to them for help isn’t even an option for you anymore. As you were looking down upon the water’s waves below from the top of the crow’s nest, you knew.

He wasn’t gonna let you go.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙

[punchdrunkdoc]

Part 3, Chapter 23

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness? Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 4 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

Okay, this is an extra looooong chapter. But we're finally at the end of Part 3! And the last line in this chapter was written when I first started plotting this fic, over 18 months and 230 000 words ago...so I'm a little excited for you guys to finally read it!

————–

PART 3

Chapter 23

The hostess led Cross and Ranieri through the busy restaurant, and Matt tracked their movements as they weaved between tables, the scent of their mingled colognes getting stronger as they came closer to his and Calina’s corner. He had a brief moment of concern that Cross was headed straight for them - that somehow Cross had discovered that Matt was looking into him, and had come here to confront him-

But then Cross paused at the table behind Matt to greet the couple seated there. Cross obviously knew them well, launching into a recap of his golf game from that morning and laughing with the couple about the new wait staff at the country club. Cross was in his slightly smarmy, exuberant, rich-guy mode - a persona that Matt had started calling his ‘politician guise’. It was a far cry from the real Cross - the cold sociopathic monster who enjoyed torturing people - and the falsity of it grated on Matt.

After a few moments of inane chatter, Cross and Ranieri moved on, heading for the back of the restaurant where the VIP section resided, separated from the rest of the public by a locked door.

“Will you be able to hear what’s going on in there?” Calina asked quietly.

Matt shook his head. “I doubt it. There’s soundproofing in the walls.”

“Soundproofing? In an already private room? That just screams shady, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. I’m going to have to get closer - I can only pick up indistinct murmurs from here.”

“While you do that, I’ll contact Anya.”

“Anya? Why?”

“Because I think Ranieri’s presence here ties everything together.”

———

After the initial shock of seeing Ranieri had worn off, Calina realised that it shouldn’t have been a shock at all. It made complete sense. “We always suspected that the man behind the fear pheromone was the one who activated me to kill Governor Benson.”

Matt nodded. “In order to guarantee the supply of Arsonium for the pheromone.”

“Right. Aminev was the Red Room employee who dosed me for that assassination attempt, and Anya mentioned that she’d found his name in Ranieri’s laptop - Ranieri was looking for him after he defected from Volkov’s group. I’m guessing he found him - either he sent Aminev to Cross, knowing that he’d pay through the nose for a Black Widow to control, or Aminev told Ranieri about Cross.”

“Either way, Ranieri’s obviously decided to get into bed with another sociopath looking for power.”

“We need to find out what he’s telling Cross about the Widows and Volkov’s work.”

Matt nodded again, looking grim. “Agreed.” He gave Calina a quick kiss on the cheek and set off to do just that.

Calina watched Matt head for the restroom two doors down from the private VIP room, and hoped he’d be able to hear what Cross and Ranieri were up to from there.

Because this whole thing was giving her a really bad feeling.

The moment she’d set eyes on Ranieri, a pit of anxiety had opened up in her gut. It was the collision of her two worlds - her present with Matt, and her past with the Widows - and she knew it could only portend disaster for the future. Cross was powerful enough as it was, with all his wealth and influence and the fear pheromone he was using to blackmail key figures in the city. Add in mind-control serum or another Black Widow assassin to that mix and he could very possibly take over the world.

Calina grabbed her phone from her purse and sent off a message to Anya, updating her about Cross’ involvement in the serum, and the unexpected appearance of Ranieri. She’d call the other Widow later and give her more details, but she knew Anya would be intrigued enough by her quick missive to start digging and confirm Calina’s theory.

Meanwhile…she’d wait.

She was used to it. So many of her past missions were exercises in patience. In biding her time watching her marks, and waiting for the right moment to strike. But back then there were no idle thoughts to distract her, and definitely no fears or worries for her partner on the job.

This felt different. Her head was spinning with worry for what this new complication meant. And worry for Matt, who was becoming obsessed with taking down Cross.

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait - and worry - for long. Ten minutes later, Matt emerged from his stake-out in the restroom and made his way back to her.

She smiled at him - an almost involuntary reflex now whenever she saw him. She’d asked him once, if he could sense that. They’d been lying in bed, her head on his chest, his fingers trailing up and down her bare back as they filled each other in on their day. “I caught my reflection in the window today when you walked in,” she’d told him, recounting the moment he’d met her at the coffee shop around the corner from his office. “I was smiling like an idiot, for all the world to see.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he’d replied.

“No, just strange. Considering the way I was raised.”

“Well I like that you smile like an idiot when you see me.”

She laughed. Then tilted her head up to look at him. “But can you tell? When you walk into a room, can you sense that I’m smiling at you?”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then brushed his thumb over her lips. “I don’t need to sense these move to know you’re happy to see me. I know in other ways.”

She’d spent the rest of the night trying to elicit what those ‘other ways’ were, using all her feminine tricks and wiles to cajole the secret from him, but he didn’t budge.

At this moment though, if he sensed she was happy to see him, he didn’t let on. There was no smile on his face as he approached their table. In fact, there was a stiffness to his gait that wasn’t there before, and his stubbled jaw was clenched.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I need to go. They’re leaving through a back entrance, and I don’t want to lose this chance to find out what they’re up to.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at home later. Be careful.”

She went to put her hand on his, where it rested on his cane, but he pulled away from her touch. “I need to go,” he repeated, and strode for the door.

The bad feeling in Calina’s gut grew stronger.

And it didn’t let up over the next several hours, as Matt followed Cross and Ranieri all over the city, and she was left to pace his living room floor alone.

He eventually returned as dawn was starting to break across the sky. Calina was napping on the couch, exhaustion and worry leading to a fretful, interrupted sleep. As his key turned in the door, she sat upright and called out. “Matt, are you okay?”

He didn’t look okay. He trudged into the living room, footfalls heavy and slow, and collapsed on to the chair opposite her. His 5 o’clock shadow had darkened into scruff and the suit he’d worn to dinner last night was rumpled and creased. He rubbed his hands over his face then massaged his temples, as if fighting off a headache.

“Matt,” she said again, softer this time. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Hours and hours of fucking nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

Matt sighed and let his head fall back against the chair. “I caught up with Cross and Ranieri after they left the restaurant, and tailed them to a club on the upper east side - an exclusive members-only club that was harder for me to get into than fucking Fort Knox.”

“But you managed right? I mean, you’re Daredevil, a few locked doors are nothing to you,” she tried to make her comment light, to help counteract the air of anger and frustration that seemed to simmer beneath Matt’s weary state.

It didn’t work. Matt just continued to recap his night in the same flat, bitter tone. “I eventually managed to find a way on to the roof that wasn’t guarded by a camera or security guard, but I couldn’t hear anything of use - it was too loud and packed with other people to make out Cross and Ranieri’s conversation. They left the club after a couple of hours, and split up. I followed Ranieri to the Waldorf, but he went straight to his room. He didn’t meet up with anyone else.”

Calina did the math in her head, and realised that several hours were still unaccounted for in Matt’s story. He never came home for his Daredevil suit to go out patrolling…so what did he do instead?

“Then what?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been gone practically all night, Matt.”

Matt sat forward, dangled his hands between his legs and stared at the floor. “I needed to think.”

Calina swallowed, suddenly more worried than she’d been all night. Matt’s voice as he said those words…his whole demeanour…

Something was really wrong.

“What did you need to think about?”

Matt clasped his hands together and squeezed until his flesh went white. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if hesitating to answer.

“Matt, what’s going on?”

He took a deep breath and lifted his head in her direction. “Does the name ‘Eliise’ mean anything to you?”

Calina frowned, thrown by the unexpected question. Then the blood drained from her face as she realised how he would have heard that name. “It was my alias in Italy, when I was going after Ranieri. He recognised me in the restaurant, didn’t he?”

“Oh, yeah. Turns out you were really fucking memorable. I mean, he was a little disappointed you’d changed your hair and weren’t showing as much leg as before, but he took great delight in describing his night with you to Cross.”

Calina exhaled in relief, glad her real identity as a Widow hadn’t been blown. “So he was bragging to look like a big shot in front of his new associate, so what?”

“It wasn’t baseless bragging. He was regaling Cross in lurid detail about all the ways he'd fucked you. And he wasn’t lying. I could practically feel his heartbeat through that bathroom wall, and he believed every single word of what he said.”

“Wait…are you saying you think I slept with him? That I had sex with him in Italy behind your back?”

“He wasn’t lying, Calina,” Matt repeated, through clenched teeth.

“Neither was I! I told you exactly what happened during that mission!”

“Like you told me exactly what happened to the man you killed across the hall?”

Calina reeled back, as if the words were a physical blow. “So I’m always going to be a liar in your eyes, is that it? Despite the fact that I’ve been honest and open with you every single day since then? Despite the fact that you claim to love me? Doesn’t that afford me the benefit of the doubt at the very least!?”

Matt jumped to his feet. “Yes! Of course it does! That’s why I’ve been wrestling with this all night! I couldn’t reconcile what you told me with-”

“With what Ranieri said? You believed a complete stranger over me?”

“No, not blindly. But you’re asking me to ignore everything my senses are telling me-”

“Yes! Because your senses aren’t infallible, Matt. All of your goddam trust issues stem from the fact that you’ve been lied to again and again by the people you're close to, which means you can’t always tell when someone’s being honest!”

“So now you’re throwing my past back at me? I just want the truth, Calina! What happened in Italy?”

Calina didn’t answer. Instead, she grabbed her cell from the coffee table and dialled a number.

“What are you doing?” Matt asked, as the sound of the phone ringing filled the air between them.

“Well, you obviously won’t believe anything I tell you, so I’m getting someone impartial to give you the truth.”

At that moment, Anya picked up the phone, sounding wide awake despite the hour. “Calina? I’ve been looking into this Cross and Ranieri thing, and I may have found something. They-”

“Not now, Anya,” Calina interrupted. “I need you to speak to Matt.”

“Okay…about what?"

“Tell him about Italy. About the serum I injected Ranieri with - and what it does.”

“Um, it’s a modified sedative. Designed to render a mark unconscious while also allowing for hypnotic suggestions to be implanted.”

“And what suggestions did you implant while Ranieri was unconscious?” Calina asked.

“That, um, you had sex with him.”

“Did I actually have sex with him?”

“No! Of course not. Calina, what’s this about? What’s-”

“I’ll tell you later.” Calina hung up the phone and looked at Matt. He stood with his hands on his hips, head bowed. “Satisfied?”

At Calina’s question, he lifted his head. Shook it once. “Calina, I’m sorry-”

“I don’t give a shit.” She shoved her phone in her pocket, grabbed her purse and stalked towards the door.

Matt caught her hand before she could yank it open. “Wait, don’t leave. We need to talk about this. I’m so sorry for-”

“For what? For doubting me? Not trusting me? Or for thinking I'm the kind of person who would cheat on you, and lie to your face about it?”

“Callie-”

“No. I can’t deal with this right now. I need to go.”

“Go? Go where? Please don’t disappear on me again.”

“Right now, I’m going to my apartment across the hall to get some sleep. Don’t follow me. Don’t call me.”

Matt squeezed her hand. Brought it to his lips and pressed a desperate kiss to the back of it. “Please, sweetheart-”

“No. I need some space, Matt. Just let me go.”

“I don’t think I can ever let you go, sweetheart,” Matt whispered against her skin. “But I’ll give you some space.” He dropped her hand and stepped to the side.

Calina walked through the door and didn’t look back.

———

Matt hit the punching bag with all his strength, the smack of flesh meeting leather creating a satisfying sound that rang out in the empty gym.

The pain that came a moment later was satisfying in a different way.

Matt had foregone the hand wraps and gloves for a reason. He’d come straight to Fogwell’s after the fight with Calina, wanting to take out all his anger and frustration on the training equipment…and wanting to punish himself in the process.

He couldn’t believe how thoroughly he’d fucked things up tonight.

No, that was wrong. He could believe it. It was one of his core personality traits, after all: the ability to sabotage every good thing in his life.

Like his relationship with Karen. He’d fucked that up because he couldn’t stay away from the toxic pull of Elektra. He’d fucked up his career and his friendship with Foggy because he couldn’t find the right balance between Matt Murdock and Daredevil.

He really thought he’d turned a corner this year. He’d mended the rift with Foggy, found friendship again with Karen, and had rebuilt the law firm with their help…but now he’d gone and fucked everything up with Calina. Because he couldn’t trust her.

No, that was wrong too. He couldn’t trust his trust in her.

Because he knew that she hadn’t lied to him about Italy. He knew she wasn’t the type of person who could be unfaithful. He knew there must be some explanation for why Ranieri believed the things that he did.

As soon as he’d heard the smarmy Italian telling Cross about ‘Eliise’, Matt had shook his head in disbelief. He knew it must be Calina he was referring to - the timing and location of the encounter fit with the Widow’s mission, and he seemed so sure he recognised Calina, despite the change in her appearance - but Matt couldn’t believe the story he was spinning about them sleeping together. He didn’t believe it. He knew that it had to be a lie, despite what his senses were telling him.

But as the night wore on, and he had little to do but sit on a cold, concrete rooftop as Cross and Ranieri’s conversation was lost to the din of the nightclub below, insidious thoughts started to creep into Matt’s mind.

What if…?

What if Calina had lied to him? She’d done it before, after all. She’d kept the secret of her identity for months. She’d killed people, and kept that from him.

What if sleeping with Ranieri was vital to her mission to take down Volkov? He knew how strong and overwhelming the Widows’ drive for freedom had been. They would have stopped at nothing to get out from under Volkov’s thumb. Would Calina have stopped at sleeping with a mark? She’d done that before in the past, as well…

Matt had hated the thoughts as they’d formed in his head. He’d screwed his eyes shut and pulled at the strands of his hair, as if he could physically banish them. He didn’t like that even a tiny part of him could think so ill of the woman he loved.

But he couldn’t seem to shake those thoughts. They took root over the course of the night, and he spent hours walking the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, wrestling with them. Trying to conquer them with the truths that he was sure of: Calina was a good person. She’d vowed to be honest with him. She loved him, and wouldn’t betray him.

But those wretched, malignant doubts just wouldn’t go away.

And look where they’d gotten him - pummelling his fists bloody and raw because he’d hurt Calina. Because he’d ruined things between them.

Why couldn’t he have trusted his initial instinct that Ranieri was lying?

Why couldn’t he have trusted his belief in Calina?

Matt yelled in frustration as he hit the bag so hard it swung away from him, a wordless shout of anger and pain that echoed off the crumbling walls of the gym. He caught the bag as it came back, and rested his forehead against the leather, panting with exertion. Warm blood trickled from the split skin over his knuckles, and he could feel the burn of inflammation in his shoulder where he must have pulled a muscle.

But the pain didn’t help. The self-flagellation wasn’t lessening any of his guilt.

And he was at real risk of doing damage to himself that wouldn’t heal with an icepack and a few bandages. He scoffed at the irony as he cleaned off the blood from his hands and the sweat from his brow. He never used to worry about himself in that way. Not before Calina. Not before he started to see a future for himself, with her.

He just didn’t know if that future existed now.

———

Calina couldn’t sleep.

She wasn’t surprised. Sleep had never come easily to her in this new post-Widow’s life. Not unless she was next to Matt…

Matt.

She sighed and rolled on to her back, staring vacantly at the ceiling over her bed. She wished she could cry or yell or hit something to get rid of this…numbness…that she felt. She’d left his apartment in a hurry, feeling like she was on the verge of breaking down, but when she reached her own bedroom just moments later, a wave of numbness had descended, until she was left like this - feeling empty, detached from her own emotions.

As if they were too big, too devastating to bear, and her mind was protecting her from them.

Or maybe it just meant that she was done. That she knew it was over between her and Matt, and her pragmatic side had decided that there was no point in wallowing in grief and pain over the loss.

No. The thought of it really and truly being over between her and Matt caused a sharp stab of pain through her heart.

A response at last. 

Because she loved him. 

Which was its own curse. Because it meant that she knew him. She knew his past and the way it had shaped who he was today. She knew why he’d reacted the way he had tonight…and a small part of her even sympathised with his struggle to believe her.

Hence, the curse. She should be allowed to be angry. To feel betrayed by his doubts. To hate him as much as she loved him.

But instead she was...numb.

So numb, the sound of a knock at the door barely elicited a reaction, even though it was probably Matt ignoring her wishes. “I said I needed space, Matt,” she called out as she dragged herself out of bed.

“We’re not Matt, so open up,” was the response.

Frowning, Calina opened the door to find Anya and Katya standing in the hall - along with a very unexpected addition. “What are you doing here so early?”

Anya pushed passed her into the living room. “After that weird phone call, we had to come and see what was happening.”

Katya rolled her eyes. “Tactful, Anya. We’re not just here out of curiosity. We came to see how you were. We figured you and Matt had an argument.”

“Is that why you brought a dog?” Calina asked, pointing to the puppy in Katya’s arms. “For comfort?"

"Comfort?"

"Yeah. I read that petting a dog lowers cortisol levels, and can boost dopamine and serotonin neurotransmitters in the brain.”

Katya looked down at the squirming mass of fur in her arms. “That would have been a good idea, actually. But, no, we’re dog-sitting Nika and didn’t want to leave her in the house while everyone else is too pre-occupied with what’s happening over Wakanda to watch her.”

“Wait, whose dog is she? And what’s happening in Wakanda?” Calina sat on the edge of the sofa and looked up at the Widows, glad there were a couple of mysteries to uncover that would take her mind off Matt.

Katya let the puppy down to explore and joined Calina on the couch. “She belongs to Yelena. She picked her up from the pound last week.”

Calina smiled. “That’s great. She said she always wanted a dog - I just thought she was planning to wait until all the Widows’ stuff was sorted.”

“Nope. She just decided that she’ll still do all the ‘Widows’ stuff’ and leave us to look after the dog while she’s gone.”

“Where is she now?”

“In Helsinki with Sonya. They’re freeing Ana - do you remember her?”

Calina had the vague recollection of an older, blonde girl who was a couple of cohorts ahead of her in the Red Room. “Not really.”

“Well, we found her in a mansion in the Finnish countryside, so Yelena flew out there last night.”

“That’s good that you guys found someone else.”

“Speaking of finding something,” Anya said. “I was looking into Cross and Ranieri like you asked-”

“That can wait until later,” Katya interrupted. “Tell us what happened with Matt.”

Calina groaned and sank back into the couch. The puppy took it as her cue to jump up on her lap. She managed the leap with no problem, and Calina could tell she was going to be big once she reached her true size. She looked like a cross between a husky and a German shepherd, and her fur was thick and soft when Calina sank her fingers into it. She continued to pet the dog as she explained the events of last night.

“So, thank you, Anya,” she said at the end of the tale. “For being so thorough in your description of my fake sexcapade with Ranieri that he’s never forgotten that night.”

Anya winced. “Sorry.”

Calina shook her head. “No, it’s not your fault. This was probably always destined to happen - Matt finds it hard to trust people, and I have a history of lying to him. What’s that phrase? ’Irreconcilable differences’?”

“I don’t believe that,” Katya said. “You’re not irreconcilable. You’ll get past this, just like your other..hurdles.”

Calina laughed at the word 'hurdle', which felt like a massive understatement. “I’m not so sure this time.” Her voice broke, and she could feel the barrier around her emotions start to break down, the numbness start to wear off, so she quickly changed the subject before the tears followed. “But enough about that. Tell me what you found, Anya.”

Anya didn’t have to be asked twice. She launched into a detailed explanation of how she searched Ranieri’s emails and his entire internet footprint via a software program she'd designed which utilised AI…until Katya had to beg her to get to the point. “Please, just give us the bullet point summary!”

“Okay, fine. It turns out Ranieri and Cross were boarded together at the same school in Switzerland for a brief period - before Ranieri was expelled for drug use, and Cross’ family emigrated to New York.”

“So they’ve known each other all this time?” Calina asked.

Anya shrugged. “It’s unclear how friendly they were for most of it, but their communications  definitely increased over the past couple of years. It looks like Ranieri was hustling on the side with Cross. He liked being in league with Volkov, but he had no loyalty, and he wasn’t as fanatical about the mission as Volkov was. He was in it for the money and power, and he saw no problem with stealing from Volkov to help him get in with another powerful man.”

“So he was the one that sent Aminev to Cross. He basically gave his old school friend a Black Widow assassin,” Katya added.

“That was the plan,” Anya clarified. “But Aminev got greedy. He was supposed to just hand over the tech to Cross, but he set himself up as the middle-man instead, getting paid to control Calina on behalf of Cross. But he fucked that up and got himself killed instead.”

“It’s a wonder Cross trusted Ranieri after that,” Calina mused. Cross didn’t seem the type to suffer incompetence in his associates.

“It didn’t matter. Ranieri had already done enough to secure his place in Cross’ inner circle.”

“How?” Calina asked.

“By giving him an old Red Room formulation. It had been superseded by the mind control serum, so Ranieri figured Volkov wouldn’t notice when the last remaining vials went missing.”

“What was the formulation?” Katya asked.

Calina had a sinking feeling she knew exactly what it was. “It was the fear pheromone, wasn’t it?”

Anya nodded. “A rudimentary version compared to what’s on the streets now. But yes.”

“So it all started with Ranieri,” Katya said, shaking her head in disbelief. “He gave Cross the idea of the fear pheromone, the basic formula to improve upon, and he even tried to guarantee his supply of the main ingredient - Arsonium Bromide - by giving him a Black Widow. That slimy, inbred piece of Italian trash started this whole thing.”

“Well, technically, the Red Room started it all,” Anya countered. “They came up with the fear pheromone in the first place.”

Calina let out a bitter laugh. “Of course it all started with them. All the pain that Cross caused with his experiments to perfect the pheromone, all the lives he ruined and the people he killed…it all stems back to the Red Room. To us. This is our legacy.”

Katya scowled at her. “What are you talking about? This isn’t on us. This is on Dreykov, and Volkov and all those other assholes in the Red Room. Our legacy will be stopping Cross - we're going to help you and Matt take him down.”

Calina nodded. She knew Katya was right. She and the other Widows were as much victims as those Cross had experimented on. They weren’t culpable. She was just feeling extra resentful and scathing about her past and her association with the Red Room this morning.

For obvious reasons.

And she wasn’t sure how she’d be able to work with Matt again on this, or anything else, but she appreciated her sisters' support. “Thanks, guys. For finding all this out, and for coming to check on me this morning. And for letting me pet the dog - I think it helped.” She smoothed her hand over one floppy ear and scratched behind it. The puppy immediately rolled over and offered her stomach for extra pets. Calina laughed and complied. 

“Speaking of the dog, why don’t you come with us while we take her for a walk. Clear your head a bit.”

Calina nodded. “Sounds good.”

Some fresh air and a playful puppy sounded infinitely better than wallowing in her bed alone for the rest of the day. 

———

As Matt left the gym, the sun was high in the sky and the working day was starting for his fellow New Yorkers. The traffic on the streets was growing, and the sound of shutters being raised on storefronts drowned out the chorus of birdsong.

Matt checked the time on his watch. He could head to the office...but he wasn't sure he was in the right head space for work this morning. And he didn't feel like going back to his apartment - not when Calina's absence would be palpable. Not when the air would still hold her scent - that would be more of a torment than a comfort right now.

So he walked. For hours. Aimlessly. Down tree-lined streets and across concrete avenues shaded by high rise buildings. He walked, concentrating on the feel of the ground beneath his feet and the steady beat of his heart, trying not to think about the fight with Calina. About how he could gain her forgiveness. About the possibility that he might never do so.

He walked…and eventually found himself outside Clinton church. For the second time in just over 24 hours.

God, had it only been a day?

Everything felt so different now. Not just in terms of the shock invasion from above, but the tumult in his own life. Yesterday he was planning to introduce his mother to the love of his life. Yesterday he felt such a sense of hope and optimism.

But now…

It was all gone.

“Matthew?” 

Speaking of his mother…

“Maggie,” he replied.

Something in his voice must have worried her. Or maybe she caught sight of the blood staining the bandages over his hands. Either way, she came rushing over. “What’s wrong. What happened?” She took hold of his arm and guided him down the steps to the rectory attached to the church. He took a seat at the small kitchen table while she fussed over him, removing his bandages and cleaning his damaged skin with warm water.

It was strange. This church, the people in it - Maggie, Father Lantom - were the source of so much of the betrayal that had shaped him. And yet he still returned to it. Again and again. 

Was it a form of masochism?

Or was he subconsciously searching for answers? For an explanation.

“Why did you do it?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Maggie paused in the act of washing his wounds. “What?”

“Why did you let me believe I was all alone in the world?”

“Oh, Matthew.” Maggie dropped the cloth she’d been using and took the seat next to him. “I- I was so young when I had you. And I was so confused. I thought I was betraying God-”

“I’m not talking about that,” he bit out. “I know you were young. I know about the post partum depression. I don’t blame you for any of that. I want to know about later. When my Dad died, afterwards, my whole life…you let me believe I was alone. You lied to me. Father Lantom lied to me. I- I just need to know why.”

“Why are you asking this now? I thought you’d found it in your heart to forgive us.”

Matt laughed. “So did I. And maybe I have forgiven you. But the damage was done regardless.”

“What damage? You said everything you’ve been through led you to becoming Daredevil, and that you were content with that.”

“With that part of my life, yes. But the rest of my life? No so much.”

“What are you talking about. Tell me what happened.”

Matt sprang up from the chair and poked a finger in his chest. “I happened! I fucked it all up with Calina, because I couldn’t trust her. Because I couldn’t banish these thoughts that she was lying to me. Betraying me. Because that’s what I’m used to. That’s what I expect from the people who claim to care about me, and its ruining my fucking life!”

Matt turned away and gripped the edges of the sink, head bowed, as he tried to get hold of his rage. He could feel Maggie approach, then tentatively lay a hand on his shoulder. He fought the urge to shrug off her comfort, but a part of him didn’t want to undo all the progress they’d made together.

He didn’t want to do or say something in anger that would ruin this relationship too. But he was just so goddam frustrated! He could feel years of resentment bubbling up to the surface.

Maggie must have sensed it, because she finally gave him the answers he craved. “When your father was alive,” she said, in a faltering voice, “I convinced myself that coming to you, and telling you the truth would just hurt you. Confuse you too much. Then, after he died, I convinced my self that it would do more harm than good. Eventually…I realised the truth.”

“Which was?”

“I’m a coward, Matthew. I was too scared to face you, and own up to the biggest mistake of my life. To save myself from that, I hurt you instead. And I’m so, so sorry for that.” She pressed on his arm, getting him to turn and face her. When he did, she reached up to take his face in her hands. “But you, Matthew Murdock, are not a coward. You are the bravest man I���ve ever known. And the strongest. It takes both to be able to love someone - it isn’t something that weak people do.”

“I do love Calina. So much. But I just don't know how to give her that last little piece of my trust.”

“My dear boy, that’s where the courage comes into play. It’s a leap of faith to give over your heart and your trust to someone else, never knowing for sure if they’ll keep them safe. You just have to be brave and jump. I have a feeling that Calina won’t squander those gifts.”

“But will she trust me with her heart now? After the things I accused her of…”

“Only she can decide that. But you need to go and find out. Fight for her. Don’t just hole yourself up hitting bags of sand - figure out a way to win her back instead.”

Matt nodded. And then, because he was feeling so drained and emotional, and because she was standing so close, he gave in to the impulse to drop his head down to her shoulder. Maggie froze for a fraction of a second before wrapping her arms around him. He hooked one arm around her waist…and they were hugging.

His first ever hug from his mother.

He could feel in the slight tremble in her frame how much it meant to her. It meant just as much to him.

And he knew he needed to let it go. All of the resentment. All of the anger at her betrayal. Father Lantom’s lies. Even Elektra and Stick's offences against him. Everything.

He needed to truly forgive and move on - for his sake, for Maggie’s, and for Calina most of all.

Because he wanted to be a better man for her.

After a few long moments, he stepped away from the embrace. “Thanks Maggie. I, um, should get going, I guess.”

“To Calina?” she asked, in a slightly bossy tone.

“Yes,” he laughed. “To Calina.”

“Good.”

Matt stepped back out into the bright spring morning, feeling a renewed sense of hope. He wouldn’t let things end with Calina this way. He wouldn’t let things end at all. He loved her. And he knew she loved him. He just had to convince her to give him another chance.

And he was a lawyer - convincing people was one of the things he did best.

He set off back in the direction of this apartment, already mentally composing his speech to Calina. His grovelling, heartfelt and earnest declaration that would hopefully persuade her to take him back. In fact, he was concentrating so hard on what he would say to her, that he missed the first warning signs that something was wrong in the city.

Very, very wrong.

But then he heard the first scream. His head jerked up at the sound trying to pinpoint the location. That’s when another scream rang out, from a different direction. Then the sounds of multiple cars crashing all over the city. A plane going down in the distance...

And beneath all that noise, and chaos…a terrible, eerie silence was growing in the world. As if thousands of heartbeats and breaths and voices were just…disappearing. Being snuffed out at once.

That horrible absence grew and grew, and with it, Matt’s fear. He started running, that same urge from yesterday overtaking him - the desperate need to get to Calina. He barrelled past other pedestrians on the street, those who were rooted in place, looking around in terror. He felt himself run through flakes of…something. Too warm to be snow. Too insubstantial to be leaves or bits of paper floating in the air. He didn’t stop to figure it out, he just kept running.

Until suddenly, he started to feel...strange.

As if the ground was no longer beneath his feet. As if the air was no longer brushing against his skin. As if all his senses were dulled. He staggered to a halt, and grasped his chest, as if to reassure himself he was still…him. But his hand vanished before it could make contact.

There was no pain. No sensation to it at all. He    w a      s                   

j               u                       s                           t

                                    

 c             o                          

                                                         m

                                                                                    i

                                                                                           n

                                                             g              

 

 a       

                  p

                                                        a

                                                                                                      r

                                                                                                                                          

t…

————–

END OF PART 3

————–

Well, for those of you who aren't familiar with Avenger's Infinity War...the BLIP just happened! And I don't actually know for sure if Matt was blipped in canon or not, but in my story he was.

Poor guy!

Find out how he deals with it here...

Part 4, chapter 1

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @sio-ina-bottle @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy @chezagnes

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

[hollandorks]

saved

matt murdock x original female character

chapter nineteen

Summary: Fleeing from an abusive relationship, Grace St. James goes to the only place she still has a friend: Hell’s Kitchen. She’s forced to live in her car and beg for a job from the law firm Nelson, Murdock, and Page all the while making sure her past doesn’t catch up to her. Enter Matt Murdock: cocky, handsome, and willing to let her live with him for free until she can afford to get a place of her own. Grace is drawn to Matt in a way she’s never been drawn to anyone, causing sparks to fly as they inevitably grow closer and closer.

a/n: finally managed to get the next chapter uploaded! At least I always make up for delays with extra long chapters, right? Anyway, I love this one, I won’t lie. I mean I know that I say that about most of them, but it’s true. I highly recommend writing the most self-indulgent fic you can tbh. 

P.S. Thanks as usual for all the love on this fic--it means a lot to see people enjoying something as much as I am!

***this chapter has NSFW themes*** 

Series Masterlist 

word count: 8345

Within minutes, sleep had claimed her with its long fingers, pulling her under and rocking her on gentle waves.

The building was burning. There was a deep rumble underneath her feet. Grace couldn’t see anything, but she could hear echoes all around her, and knew she was underneath the skyscraper that had once been Midland Circle. 

The ground rumbled again, harder this time, and she tripped. 

She had to find–something. Someone. Her heart trembled with fear. Her breaths came in harsh, panicked pants as she hurried blindly through the darkness. Slowly, the tunnel around her illuminated. She half-turned and saw a wave of fire coming towards her in slow motion. 

Hurry. She had to hurry. Urgency sent her running faster and faster even as the ground split beneath her feet. 

The ground shook beneath her and a huge boom threw her off of her feet. She hit the rocky ground hard. 

No. She still had time. She crawled forward on hands and knees. It was as if the air had turned solid around her. She had to fight for every inch of ground gained. All the while, that wall of flame grew closer and closer. Her fingers and knees were bleeding as she dragged herself over the split asphalt beneath her. 

She rounded a corner, arms shaking with fatigue, and there he was. 

Matt, dressed as Daredevil, a faceless woman dead at his feet. Grace called out for him, his name a desperate plea, but another explosion swallowed the sound whole. 

No. No. It wasn’t too late, it–

The wall of flame parted around her. 

Matt looked up, his head tilted. 

“Grace?” he said. It sounded like he was right next to her, his voice in her ear. 

Chunks of concrete and flame started to fall. 

Another explosion and then–

The building came down on top of him. There was a flash of red as the rubble and fire came crashing down where Matt had been standing. 

She heard her name again. She could still save him. She knew she could. She sobbed out his name as her bloodied fingertips struggled for purchase. 

The air released her, and she was able to rush towards the remains of the building and start digging. Pain ripped across her fingers and palms as she dug. Pieces of concrete and glass shredded her skin while remnants of the flame that had been chasing her burned her body. 

A piece of rock fell away, and Matt’s eyes stared sightlessly upward. 

No longer blind, but dead. 

“Grace!” Matt half-shouted. 

She jerked away with a cry. 

“Grace?” Matt said. Dawn was breaking outside the windows, the sign across the street long turned off. She felt his fingers on her arms, in her hair, searching her for signs of injury. 

“Matt,” she said, and it turned into a sob. She opened her eyes, and there he was. He was fine. He was alive. He was bathed in grayscale from the rising dawn, the air washed of all color, all life. Matt’s hair was mussed and she’d never seen someone look so beautiful.

Matt yanked her into the warmth of his chest, stroking her hair as she cried. 

He had almost died, and it was haunting her even though he had survived. She hadn’t been there, but the dream–It had been so real. Grace cried harder because that terrible thing in her dream had actually happened to him, yet here he was comforting her. 

“It was just a dream, sweetheart,” he murmured into her hair. His voice was low and rough as gravel with sleep. 

Instinct kicked in and Grace forced herself to stop crying. Dean had hated her tears. At first he would be sympathetic, but if she didn’t stop within a minute, he gave her a reason to cry. Every time. Without fail. 

She’d never been so upset after dreaming about Dean dying. Those had usually been good dreams, but this–this had been a nightmare. 

“How do you do that?” Matt asked, a note of wonder in his voice. “Just–stop like that?” 

Grace wriggled her arms between their chests so she could wipe her eyes. Her breath still hitched a little, and that terrible grief was still a yawning void within her, but she wasn’t crying anymore. Every bit of Matt’s warmth, every beat of his heart against her was a comfort that eased the pain. 

“Dean used to hate when I cried,” she said. Disgust crept into her tone. “He would always be so–so sweet at first, kissing me, telling me it was okay, holding me. But the longer I cried, the more angry he would get. And he always gave me something to cry about if I didn’t stop when he said.” 

Matt’s arms tightened around her almost painfully. She could feel his heart thundering in his chest. That little muscle in his jaw ticked. “Grace–” he said and his voice was taut with pain. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “That man is the worst kind of bastard, and one day I’m going to make him pay for everything he did to you.” 

If Dean had said something like that, she would have been repulsed. Angry even. 

But coming from Matt, knowing he was saying it from his heart because he cared, it was exactly what she wanted to hear. 

Something within her hardened. “Not if I make him pay first.” 

Matt’s lips ghosted across her temple. “You can cry as much and as long as you like around me. I can’t promise it won’t freak me out, but–” He laughed but it was humorless. 

Grace almost cried simply hearing those words. “I know,” she said softly. She wrapped an arm around him so she could hold him even closer. The apartment around them was cold, but Matt was so warm it was making her sleepy again. 

Matt’s hands rubbed her back in soothing circles. She let her eyes drift closed even though she wasn’t quite ready to sleep. She wiggled closer and tucked her face into his neck. He flinched at the touch of her cold nose but only gripped her tighter when she went to move away. She smiled against his skin. 

“What did you dream about?” he asked after a long silence. 

“It was nothing,” she said, the words punctuated by a yawn. 

“Was it about…him? Dean?” She could feel his muscles tense at the name. 

“No, it wasn’t about Dean.” She yawned again. “It was nothing.” 

“You’re lying,” he said but it wasn’t accusatory. “You don’t have to tell me about it though. Only if you want to.” 

“Do you ever have nightmares?” she asked instead. 

“Mm. Yeah, sometimes.” 

“Do you ever…dream about what happened to you? At Midland Circle?” A memory of dream-Matt’s dead face flashed through her mind. 

Matt tensed all over again but still didn’t let her go. “Sometimes,” he said tightly. 

It was Grace’s turn to hold him against her. She tried to ground herself in his warmth and the steady beat of his heart, but her mind wasn’t giving the dream up. It had been so real. It felt more like a memory than a dream, like she’d really been there. 

“Why are you crying?” Matt asked so softly it almost broke her. He started stroking her hair again. 

“Because–” She had to bite back a small sob. “Because I dreamt about it, and it was so awful that–I can’t imagine living it and–” She held him so tightly he went tense again. “Shit, your ribs–” But Matt didn’t let her extricate herself. 

“You–you dreamt about Midland Circle?” His voice sounded almost awed. 

She nodded wordlessly. She couldn’t stop the tears if she tried. The dream was lingering with its sharp claws caught in her mind. 

“What about Midland Circle?” He kissed her temple again and shifted slightly, likely so she’d stop digging into his bruised ribs. 

“I–Fuck.” She maneuvered so she could wipe her eyes again and wipe the tears from Matt’s bare chest and neck. She made a face. 

“You dreamt it fell on you?” he asked softly. She could see something akin to pity in his expression. 

“No, Matt,” she said as more tears fell. “I dreamt about it falling on you.” 

“Wh–” He stopped, swallowed. “I survived, Grace. I made it out.” 

She sobbed. “Not in my dream,” she managed to choke out. 

And then Matt was kissing her. Her lips, her nose, her cheeks, all over her face. Something about it made her giggle through the tears. He smiled against her skin. 

“I’m right here, Grace,” he finally said. He kissed her again. “I’m right here.” 

“I know, I just–” There those instincts went again, drying up her tears even though she knew she was safe, knew she could keep crying if she wanted. “Sorry, I know it’s stupid.” 

“You are…a remarkable woman,” he said with a little laugh of disbelief. “You didn’t even know me then.” 

“But I know you now,” she said stubbornly. “I hate that you went through that at all.” 

“No skyscrapers are collapsing on me now,” Matt said with an eyebrow quirked. But there was still a lingering softness in his face. 

“I know, that’s why I said it was stupid.” She wanted to cross her arms but he was still holding her close. 

Matt shook his head and laughed again. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Grace,” he said. “You want to know why I like you? That’s why. I tell you a story about something that happened to me a long time ago, and you’re so worried about it that it gives you nightmares.” 

She frowned. “That makes me sound crazy.” 

“No, no. That’s not what I meant.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.” 

She hummed. “I’m sorry I woke you,” she said. 

“Don’t apologize. Not for that.” 

“Sorry,” she said, then winced. “I just–Dean always–” 

Matt’s expression darkened. “Dean made you feel bad for being a normal human being. I won’t ever do that, Grace. Ever.” 

She bit her lip. “I know,” she said. “But some habits are hard to break.” 

Matt’s voice lowered even further as he said, “I will help you break each and every one of those habits. I promise.” 

Her breathing hitched again. She snuggled closer to him. Her head fit so perfectly into his neck as he held her that it almost made her believe in silly things like fate. She and Dean had never fit, not like she and Matt did. 

“I feel safe with you,” she murmured into that safe bubble of darkness, tucked against him. “More than I ever have before.” 

She was asleep before she knew it. There were no more nightmares. 

–

When Grace finally woke again, Matt was gone. She blinked sleepily in the bright apartment. She stretched and rolled over for her phone. There was a single text from Matt that said, Be right back. 

She smiled. 

It was Saturday, so she had nowhere to be. Until now, on weekends she would leave the apartment for a while to try and give Matt some privacy. But now all she wanted to do was wait for him to get back. She shivered with pleasure at the thought of him actually coming home to her, for her. 

She scrolled through her phone as her mind slowly tried to wake. 

Of her own accord, her fingers brought up a search engine and typed Elektra diplomat daughter death. 

There were no headlines about any deaths, but the first result was a profile from several years before on Elektra Natchios, who in the description was listed as the daughter of high-profile diplomats. 

Grace clicked the link, and there she was. 

Something in her gut knew this was the woman Matt had loved. Of course, there weren’t many women named Elektra who were rich and the daughter of diplomats. But something in the way the woman in this picture smiled made Grace absolutely certain she was the right one. 

Grace typed in Elektra Natchios and was rewarded with hundreds of pictures of the woman. Paparazzi pictures, profiles, social media posts, pictures from fancy events and red carpets. Elektra had been rich and had loved flaunting it. 

No one seemed to know she was dead, though there was some deliberation about her having disappeared from the public eye. 

The more pictures Grace saw, the sicker she felt. She sat up in the bed so she could force herself to put the phone away, but ended up sitting on the edge of the mattress scrolling through even more. 

Finally she tossed the phone to the side and rested her head in her hands. 

Dean’s voice whispered across her mind. You think you’ll ever be good enough? You’re lucky to have a man like me. A girl like you isn’t going places. I’m just telling you the truth here. Without me, you’re nothing. 

Grace’s chest tightened painfully. She dug her fingers into her hair, into her scalp, trying to ground herself. 

Because really, how could she compare to a woman like Elektra? Matt might be blind but knowing what Elektra looked like–and, to a point, even Karen–Grace felt so inadequate she almost laughed. Elektra had been rich, powerful, and a fighter like Matt. He’d said himself that she had understood the darkness within him like no one else ever had. 

You have nothing, Dean whispered in her mind. A useless degree you only got to be near me. And now, without me, you have no money and nowhere to go. And for what? A man who loved the kind of woman you could never be. Not even close. 

Grace gasped and slid to the floor. She curled her arms over her head and drew her knees to her chest. 

She did have nothing. The only reason she had a place to live was because of the goodness of one man’s heart. The same man who was the only reason she had a job at all. 

Grace had never seen what her future could look like, because it had always been simple: be Dean’s wife. Have Dean’s kids. Maybe help her mom one day, but probably only stay and belong to Dean. 

Grace didn’t even know what she wanted to be, because college had only been one step in the path Dean had laid out for her. She’d gotten a degree because Dean had said it would look good to have a wife with a degree, at the same fancy school he had gone to, using the same money Dean had used. She hadn’t gotten into college on her own merit because she couldn’t. Dean had used his money and his connections.

She didn’t want to go back to Dean, ever, but she had nothing else. 

Grace couldn’t breathe. She grabbed at her hair again but she couldn’t feel it. She was dizzy even though she was curled up on the floor. 

The future spread out dark and empty and hopeless before her. She wasn’t that smart, she didn’t have money, and she didn’t have connections. 

She had nothing. 

Something touched her arm. 

She gave a startled cry and scrambled away on all fours so quickly her tailbone cracked painfully against the floor. 

Panting, she blinked and saw Matt where she had just been, on his knees, hands held out in a calming gesture like she was a wild animal. Her heart was beating itself bloody against her ribcage, the panic only slightly dissipated at the sight of him. 

“I’m sorry,” Matt said gently, again treating her like some sort of cornered animal. She realized she was still crouched, panting heavily, on the floor, cringing away from him. From Matt. 

Matt, who was good. Matt, who was kind. Matt, who was safe. Matt, who dated women like Elektra. 

Grace blinked rapidly and forced herself to relax. She uncurled and unclenched, though her heart and lungs didn’t get the memo. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” Matt said in that same slow, gentle voice. He hadn’t moved. “Are you okay?” 

She started to nod, realized he couldn’t see it and that he’d know it was a lie anyway, and then said, “No.” 

Matt edged a little closer. Slowly, as if giving her time to get away. 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. She watched him carefully. If anything, he should be scared. She was a mess. First that nightmare, now this? She wouldn’t want herself either. 

“Why are you sorry?” His chin dipped slightly as he frowned. 

“I shouldn’t have–reacted that way.” Finally her breathing was easing. The panic was ebbing away, because no matter what, she did trust Matt. She knew she was safe. 

“I scared you, Grace,” he said, and she wanted to scream at the slow way he was speaking. “You were having a panic attack. I shouldn’t have touched you like that, not after what you’ve been through.” 

Grace stood on shaking legs and strode towards him. As she moved, Matt stood in an easy, languid movement that reminded her of a dancer. 

“I know you won’t hurt me, Matt,” she said. “I’m fine.” The last word was a snap so harsh she winced as soon as it came out. 

“Okay,” he said, though he clearly knew she was lying. “Are you alright?” 

“I–” She was about to say she was fine again, that she’d just said it, but this was Matt. “No.” 

Matt merely looked at her for a second. She expected him to ask what was wrong, but instead he said, “I got breakfast. And coffee.” He nodded towards the living room. 

She could have kissed him. She fought a smile and lost. 

“Let me just get dressed.” 

When she emerged again a few minutes later, Matt was half-sprawled on the couch, nursing a cup of coffee with a small frown. 

She settled next to him and took her own coffee and bagel. They sat in quiet, companionable silence for a while. He didn’t ask about what had happened, didn’t bring it up. He caught her staring at him at one point and merely flashed a smile. 

It was hard not to stare. Not only was this man so kind, even with what he did at night, he was looking incredibly good in tight, dark jeans and a black tshirt. 

Grace didn’t want to fuck it up. This thing between them, whatever it was, felt like a fragile bud trying to bloom at the end of winter. One frost, and it would die. And Grace was made of frost, of hard winter ground where nothing would grow. 

“Think you’re up for that date tonight?” he asked softly. 

Grace opened her mouth, then paused. 

She really owed him the truth. Even though he wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t pry, she should tell him. He deserved to know how fucked up and hopeless she was. 

“I looked up Elektra earlier,” she said instead of answering. It was almost comical how he jolted. Grace plowed ahead. “And one thing led to another, and I remembered all the times Dean told me I was worthless, that he was the only reason I was doing anything in my life, and that made me realize…it was true.” 

“It absolutely isn’t true,” Matt said so vehemently she expected to see a physical spark. 

“No, it is,” she insisted. “I only got into a good college because he paid for it. I never had good grades or much ambition. My plan was always to graduate, get engaged, and be Dean’s wife someday. That was it. I got a degree in communications because that’s what he picked. And now…Matt, I’m not trying to be self-deprecating, but I’m not that smart. I’m definitely not rich. And I have…nothing. A useless college degree and a huge, wide open nothing in front of me. It’s just the truth. And earlier it…hit me harder than usual.” 

“Some people go half their lives not knowing what they want to do,” Matt said softly. He sat back against the couch but was considerably less at ease than he had been. “I’ll help you figure it out. Even if we break up. I don’t care. You deserve a good life, free of him, and I want to help you find it. If you think you like law after working with us, we’ll get you connected like we did with Karen. Or she can help you explore if you’d like to be a reporter. Or if you want to quit and try and write a novel, we can put a desk right over there.” He pointed towards the doors that hid his Daredevil suit. “We can find you art classes, pottery, a job in a bookstore. Culinary classes. Accounting. I’ll help you try it all until you find what you like.” 

Grace swallowed hard. “Damn it, Matt,” she muttered around the emotion in her throat. He looked confused. “Stop being so–fuck. So good. What kind of man does that? We just met. We’ve been dating, what, a day? Two days?” 

A corner of his mouth turned up. “You deserve everything good life has to offer, Grace. I just want to help you find it, even if it doesn’t include me, in the end.” 

She had to lean her elbows on her knees to catch her breath. 

“You’re just trying to get me to go on that date,” she said. It was too much, all of it. She might deserve all the good things life had to offer, but there was nothing she could do in a thousand years to ever deserve a man like Matt Murdock. 

“You caught me,” he said with that cocky grin she loved so much. “It’s all a bribe to get you to go out with me.” 

“It’s working.” 

“Then I’ll pick you up at seven.” 

She laughed. It was as if a huge weight had lifted from her. She had just admitted to Matt how fucked up she was, and all he wanted to do was help her find her calling. 

“Where are we going?” she asked as she set her empty coffee cup on the table and leaned back. Their knees bumped together as she got settled. 

“I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” That smile again. Her stomach fluttered and her heart flipped. 

“Can you hear that?” she asked, genuinely curious. 

“Hear what?” he asked. 

“The butterflies you give me.” She immediately flushed at how stupid it sounded. 

Matt’s cheeks turned slightly pink. “I–No. They’re not real butterflies. You know that, right?” He was teasing her, but there was something in his expression that made her feel warm all over.

“Well, shit,” she said seriously. “I thought they were.” 

He grinned, then sobered slightly. “But I can hear how your heart reacts to me. How some things make you nervous, others excited, others…happy. Sometimes I hear the changes, but I can’t tell what they make you feel, though.” 

She scooted closer. “Then I’ll just have to tell you,” she said softly. She kissed him. “Happy is definitely the key word right now.” 

“Good. I’m happy, too.” 

–

When Matt stopped in front of the restaurant for their first date, Grace laughed out loud. 

The whole walk over, she’d been nervous and distracted. Matt was wearing a black button up and those damned jeans, hair mussed and still damp from his hurried shower. It looked as if he’d tried to run his fingers through it. He looked so good it tripped her up, and she’d been overthinking her own dress, knowing he couldn’t see it, but knowing that everyone else would see him looking like that with her. 

But the sight of the restaurant made all of those worries disappear in the cold wind blowing the first traces of true autumn around them.

“I’ll admit,” Matt said as they stopped in front of the bustling building. “Not really the reaction I was expecting.” 

Grace giggled again. “You know where we are, right?” 

“The Family Vine,” Matt said slowly. “I usually have a great sense of direction.” 

Grace bent over, she was laughing so hard. “Yes, that’s where we are, don’t worry.” 

“This is also where I found you sleeping in your car.” Matt chuckled and it almost sounded…nervous. “I thought it’d be romantic.” 

“No, it is, it is,” she hurried to say. Because him saying that made her warm all over. “But you know–do you know why I was parked here? Who owns this restaurant?” 

“Ryan and Jess Parker,” he said. “We’ve helped them out with some things last year.” 

Grace bit back another laugh, feeling on the edge of hysteria. “Matt, Ryan and I were high school sweethearts.” 

Matt went very still. “Oh.” 

“He’s the only person I knew who wasn’t…connected to Dean when I left. He and Jess have a new baby, so they didn’t have any room for me. So Ryan got me a permit for my car to park in their extra spot so I wouldn’t be towed, and I used their shower and stuff when I needed it. In exchange, I paid a small rent payment.” 

Matt still hadn’t moved. There was a blast of noise and chatter as the restaurant doors opened and a big family came out, parting around them like the current over rocks. 

“Oh,” Matt said again. “I had no idea. We can–we can go somewhere else if you–” 

Grace decided to put him out of his misery. “No, this is fine! I actually haven’t eaten here before, I never really had the time. And Ryan and I–that was a long time ago. Jess is perfect for him. Plus, they’re the ones that recommended I go apply with you guys in the first place. So really they’re the ones who set us up. Doubly romantic.” 

Matt rubbed the back of his neck with the hand not holding his cane. “Sorry, if I’d–” 

“Matt, really. This is fine. It’s actually perfect.” She captured his free hand and squeezed. “Come on.” 

After a moment–no doubt listening for a lie–Matt held the door open for her. She smiled at him as she stepped into the warmth of the restaurant. It really was perfect, she thought. This place had brought them together twice, in two big ways. First, her job at Nelson, Murdock, and Page. And then that day that had started to feel a bit like fate when Matt had found out she was living in her car, and convinced her to come live with him. 

Now they were at the same restaurant, brought together for a third time. 

“Table for two. Murdock.” Matt’s voice was almost husky as he talked to the hostess. She hooked her arm in his and squeezed. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she liked being listed under his name. It was a silly thing, but it made her happy all the same. What she didn’t like was the way the hostess gave him an appreciative look when she thought Grace wasn’t paying attention. 

The restaurant was totally transformed from the last time she’d seen it. She’d been inside after closing and before opening, but never when it was crowded like this. 

Now, the Saturday dinner rush in full swing, Grace saw exactly what drew people here. 

She gasped a little as she took it all in. It was homey, yet elegant. The ceiling and exposed brick walls were covered in vines–she had no idea if they were fake or not–and loops of golden string lights wove above their heads. The entire place was bathed in a warm golden glow that went along perfectly with the delicious smells and low hum of conversation. 

She couldn’t help staring around as they were seated at an intimate nook in the back. 

“Matt, I wish you could see this place,” she said softly. “It’s got this beautiful original brick–which Ryan is very proud of by the way–and the ceiling and the tops of the walls are covered in vines like we’re outside. There are these gold string lights everywhere, which is most of the lighting and everything is so…intimate.” Matt was listening intently, smiling faintly. Grace trailed off. “What?” she asked. 

“You just immediately started describing it to me, that's all,” he said softly. He opened his mouth to say more, but a waiter appeared and took their drink orders. 

“I’ve never been in here when it’s been open,” she said after the waiter left. “It’s–really, it’s perfect, Matt.” 

He smiled and his fingers found his menu. He sighed. “I hate lamination.” 

He said the words so sadly that she couldn’t help but snort. “Because it’s…gross?” 

“Because then I can’t feel the raised ink,” Matt said with an indulgent smile. “Well, yeah I guess it’s a little gross, too.” 

“Oh, I didn’t realize you could do that.” She blushed a little. 

“X-ray fingers,” he said, which made her laugh again. She read him the menu, noting things that sounded good to her. She started reading the prices too, but he waved her off. 

“We don’t care about prices on first dates,” Matt said in answer to her questioning look that he was somehow aware of. 

“That’s sweet, Matt, but you guys literally get paid in pastries half the time.” 

Matt laughed. “You’ve got me there. Foggy and Karen always hog them, too, so it’s like I never even get paid at all.” He tapped the table twice. “But I…uh. I’ve been saving up.” 

Grace blinked. The waiter reappeared, asked if they were ready to order. 

As soon as he was gone again, Grace said, “You’ve been saving up? For a date?” 

Matt looked almost…sheepish. He rubbed his neck again. “For a date with…you.” 

“Matt, we decided like two days ago to date,” she said teasingly. She fiddled with her drink, drawing shapes in the condensation. 

“This is embarrassing,” he said with a laugh. 

“Because you only managed ten dollars in two days?” she joked. She nudged his foot with her own under the table to make sure he knew she was kidding. 

“Ouch. But no. I’ve been saving for…well, two weeks into you starting work with us.” 

Grace choked on her drink. Matt reached for her, worried, but she waved him off. When she recovered, she said, “Why?” 

“Because you’re special, Grace,” he said softly. He laced his fingers with hers on top of the table. “And Foggy said that at least the longer I waited to grow a pair, the nicer of a date I could take you on.” 

She tilted her head back and laughed so loudly that the older couple at the next table shot her a look. “That sounds like Foggy, alright. So you had a crush on me, huh, Murdock?” 

Matt’s sheepish expression turned cocky. “I thought that would be obvious by now.” 

“Not to me! I thought it was obvious I had a crush.” 

“It must have been to Foggy and Karen. Notice how they always made us do things together? Or how at Josie’s that night they moved when I came in so we sat together?” Matt leaned forward and quirked his eyebrows up. “They knew we liked each other even if we didn’t.” 

“But you can hear my heartbeat. And all that stuff. I thought–” 

Matt released her hand and gave a dismissive wave. “Not for a while. At first, you were so nervous. Afraid. You got nervous any time any of us asked you to do something. And then–God, I’m going to sound like a dick.” He shook his head. 

“Go ahead, sound like a dick,” she said. “It’s not new to me.” She pressed her lips together to hold back her laugh. 

Matt rolled his eyes but laughed. He hadn’t worn his glasses on the date, and she reveled in seeing how open his expressions were without them. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to make you pay for your own.” 

She bit her cheek to keep from laughing. “Sorry, sorry. You were saying?” 

“I was saying that…I’m used to attention from women.” He winced. “See? A dick. So when you reacted to me, to me being closer to you…I kind of tuned it out. You can’t help it. And you treated me just like Karen and Foggy–lots of joking around.” 

“Very sure of yourself aren’t you, Mr. Murdock?” Grace said teasingly. But he had a point. “The curse of the poor, hot blind lawyer. I get that. But you really couldn’t tell I was flirting with you? Like–come on. I definitely didn’t say the same kinds of stuff to Karen and Foggy.” 

Matt shrugged. “It wasn’t obvious to me until shortly before that night at Josie’s.”

Grace winced. “Oh.” She had a feeling she knew what he was talking about. “The sex dream.”

It was Matt’s turn to choke on his drink. In the deep, golden light it was hard to tell, but she was pretty sure he was blushing. 

“No, it’s okay, you already told me you could tell anything like…that happened. I had a sex dream about you, and then every time I saw you at work that day it kind of…repeated in my head. It had…been a while since anything like that had happened to me. Since I’d found someone so…” She swallowed the words. Since I’d found someone so hot. Someone I wanted so badly. Someone I would have killed to see naked, just once. 

And there was that cocky grin again, though he was blushing. “Well,” he said with a small cough. He shifted in his seat. “It was kind of hard to miss, for someone like me.”

Grace covered her face with her hands. “God, I’m sorry. That’s so embarrassing.” 

Somehow Matt’s hand found her bare knee beneath the table. “Trust me, it was more embarrassing for me. Did you notice I didn’t get up from my desk for pretty much the entire day?” 

Grace’s stomach swooped dangerously. The admission, coupled with the feeling of his callouses on the bare skin of her knee, was making her want to cut their date short. 

“Are you telling me you had a hard on that entire day, just because you could tell I was horny all day?” She unconsciously clenched her legs and Matt’s nostrils flared. 

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Exactly like right now.” 

Grace briefly debated how much Ryan would hate her if she dragged Matt to the bathroom down the hallway at that instant. Matt seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he hand tightened on her knee before sliding up her thigh just a little. A small breath huffed from her lips. 

Matt abruptly straightened. 

“Matt–hi! It’s been a while! It’s–Gracie?” 

It was as if her thoughts had summoned him. His appearance was ice water in her veins, immediately getting rid of all inappropriate thoughts she’d just been having about Matt. 

Ryan stopped at their table, looking sharp in a black button down and black slacks that befit a restaurant owner. “What are you doing here, Gracie?” 

Grace didn’t miss the way Matt’s eyebrows rose at the name. 

“What are you doing here?” Grace asked, meaning their table. 

“I own the place,” he joked, knowing full well what she meant. He glanced back and forth between her and Matt. “Oh. Oh. Sorry, I’m not trying to crash your date, Jess just said she thought she saw Matt Murdock and I wanted to say hi–” Ryan flushed and patted Grace’s shoulder awkwardly. “See you later!” 

She laughed. “Ryan, it’s fine.” He merely waved as he hurried away. 

Matt leaned in like he was about to share a secret. She leaned closer, too. 

“Between him and our waiter and a guy sitting at the bar, I’m confident you look very good tonight.” Just like that, the warmth was back in Grace’s veins and thoughts of bathroom trysts floated through her head. Matt’s voice was deep and husky and inviting. Her eyes traced his perfect lover’s lips. 

“Oh?” she said. “But Ryan–” 

“Was probably trying to respect his wife.” 

“So how do you know, exactly, that I look good? Supposedly.” Grace crossed her arms. 

Matt gave her an arrogant smile as he leaned back in his seat. “Our waiter’s pulse picked up by quite a bit when he first saw you. And I could hear him whispering with one of his friends in the kitchen about you.” His expression darkened slightly. “I won’t repeat the comments. Ryan’s pulse jumped, too, and then he got really nervous. Like he saw you, reacted, then remembered how much he loved his wife.” 

“And the guy at the bar?” She had no way of corroborating any of what Matt was saying, but Foggy had insisted that Matt had a knack for knowing women were beautiful. His eavesdropping skills were probably how. 

“Debating sending you a drink and his phone number in case your date doesn’t go well.” Matt rolled his eyes. 

Grace put her hand on his knee this time. “Good thing my date is going very, very well.” 

Matt’s breath hitched for a second. His hand covered hers, fingers flexing like he was fighting himself. 

“I know you’re wearing a dress,” Matt said after a moment. She found that she liked hearing the obvious strain in his tone, especially as her hand slid a little higher up his thigh like he’d done to her. “And it’s uh…low in the front and back. And it’s soft, like velvet. But I can’t tell anything else.” 

“It’s black,” she said softly. “I’ve only worn it one other time, and I never knew why I brought it with me when I left.” She grinned at him. “I guess it was so you could take it off of me later.” 

Matt groaned and pressed his forehead to the table for just a second. “You’re killing me, here.” 

“Then I guess I shouldn’t ask if you can tell what I’m wearing underneath,” she said. She shifted in her seat a little. Matt’s head tilted, and then he jerked back. 

“Jesus,” he breathed. “Grace–” 

“The answer is nothing, Matt,” she said in a voice she hardly recognized. 

She was starting to think she really wasn’t that hungry after all. 

And of course the waiter appeared with their food at that moment.

Matt made a convincing show of feeling around for his cutlery and plate. “What?” he asked when she continued to watch him instead of answering. 

“People are going to think I’m such an asshole,” she said with a smile. “Just sitting here, watching you fumble around for stuff like a poor blind man.” 

Matt shot her a smile as he placed his napkin in his lap. “I am a poor blind man.” 

“Sure. It’s fascinating to watch how good you are at pretending.” 

“Well, I am blind.” Matt took a bite of his food. The corners of his mouth revealed the amusement he was trying to hide. 

“Sure,” she said lightly. 

Grace decided she probably did need to eat before all the things she planned to do to Matt Murdock later. As they ate, they talked. She heard stories from his life, from his time at the orphanage, to the time Foggy moved all his stuff to the dorm across the hall from theirs, to the time he helped Foggy cheat at a pool game at Josie’s so they could win fifty bucks, which they later split.

Grace told him about how her dad used to take her on dates when she was little, just the two of them. She told him about her favorite classes in college, and how much she sometimes missed the townhome she and Dean had shared. She told him about the new software she was trying out for the firm’s website and the ideas she had 

Her raging hormones settled as they talked and ate and she found herself more at ease than she had been in a long time. She liked hanging out with Matt, just the two of them. He was funny and sweet all at once. She realized that although he hid parts of himself around strangers, he was more genuine than she’d ever realized. Other than the open flirtations, he treated her exactly how he treated Foggy and Karen, which only made her like him more. 

The restaurant was starting to empty when Matt finally asked the waiter for the check. It was as if no time at all had passed even though it had been hours. Grace couldn’t remember the last time she’d been content to sit for so long and simply talk. 

“It’s been taken care of,” the waiter said, blushing as he looked at Grace. 

Grace’s head snapped up. She caught eyes with Ryan, who was behind the bar. He winked at her and went back to his task. 

Matt seemed stunned. “Taken care of?” 

The waiter nodded, blushed deeper, then said, “Y-yeah. Mr. Parker–” He glanced around as if he wasn’t supposed to say who had taken care of the bill. “Uh–have a good night.” Then he scurried away. 

“Well,” Matt said after a moment. “Guess he’s getting a good tip.” 

Grace laughed. “Ryan’s a good guy, I really shouldn’t be surprised.” 

Matt dug out his wallet and tossed a couple of bills onto the table. Grace had no idea what the meal cost, but she was certain that their waiter was about to have a really, really good night. 

Matt stood and held out his hand for her. 

Arm in arm, they left the restaurant. Grace hadn’t had any alcohol, yet her limbs held that same kind of pleasant warmth, her mind slightly dizzy. Everything seemed brighter with Matt around. His presence was intoxicating.

So was the thought of what she wanted to do when they got home. 

“Matt, I have to say,” she said as they slowly ambled down the sidewalk. She liked that they weren’t in a hurry, that they were simply enjoying being together. “That was probably the best date I’ve ever been on.” 

Matt was smiling when she looked up at him. “Me, too.” 

Grace decided to lean into it and said, “I have a feeling it’s only going to get better once we get home.” She hoped that her words, coupled with the cues Matt would read from her body, would let him know exactly what she was hoping for. 

Matt stumbled slightly but righted himself almost immediately. 

She managed to keep it together until they got into the elevator. The doors slid closed and Matt’s scent wrapped around her, warm and masculine and comforting, and she wanted to lose herself in it. In him. 

It had been a long time since she had taken something for herself, something that made her so happy, and she wanted it all. Was it selfish, to want so much? Did other people always feel like this when they were falling in love? 

Because, she realized, that was what was happening with Matt. She was falling in love with him, slowly and surely, a little bit each day. 

And still she wanted more. 

“Come here,” Matt said softly, opening his arms as he leaned back against the elevator wall. 

She stepped into his warmth and let out a slow breath. This is what she had always wanted. What she had always needed. Someone warm and safe, someone she was comfortable simply talking with. Someone she didn’t have to worry about saying or doing the wrong thing with. 

“Hey,” she whispered, her nose almost brushing his as she leaned up onto her tiptoes. 

“Hey, yourself,” he murmured with a smirk that made her stomach swoop. He was cocky, but he was letting her lead. 

She curled her fingers into his shirt to hold him in place against her. His heart pounded steadily where she leaned against him. She inhaled deeply. She breathed him in and let her eyes close for a brief moment. 

She leaned in, teasing, her lips a hair’s breadth from his. 

Matt stayed very still as Grace brushed her lips over his. 

She stepped away right as the elevator doors slid open. 

Matt groaned and leaned his head back against the wall before following her out. 

“You’re killing me here,” he said, repeating the sentiment from the restaurant. She laughed and unlocked the door, smirking over her shoulder as she stepped inside. 

Suddenly he was right there in her space, caging her in, backing her against the hallway wall while kicking the door closed behind them. 

Grace’s heart tripped over itself in her chest. The blood in her veins went holt, molten, dragging through her body and lighting her on fire as it went. 

“I’ve been waiting all night for this,” Matt said in a low voice that sent a shiver down her spine. 

Grace opened her mouth to say something sarcastic but his lips crashing down on hers silenced the words. She moaned at the spark that lit between them. She opened her mouth readily, eagerly, wanting to swallow him whole. She wanted to inhale him, devour him, dive into him. 

His hands dug into her waist and clutched her close. She could already feel how hard he was where he pressed into her stomach. All it did was make her want more. She would never get enough of Matt Murdock, of his kiss, of his body. She wanted it all. She nipped at his lower lip as he tried to slow the kiss down. He breathed a laugh and obliged, the kiss deepening further. 

Matt’s body pressed her against the wall but she didn’t feel trapped. Instead, Grace wanted him even closer. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. She wanted to get rid of everything between them. 

He shuddered as her cold hands brushed over his bare skin. One of his hands found her thigh and drifted slowly upwards, dragging the skirt of her dress up as it went. He moaned when he found her hip. She wasn’t wearing underwear. Or a bra for that matter. 

Both of his hands were on her ass and then the world tilted slightly as he lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and let her head thunk back against the wall as his mouth devoured a blazing trail across her jaw and down her neck. 

“Matt,” she said, a prayer, a plea. She wanted more, more, more. Her brain was incapable of saying anything else, of forming any other thoughts. Her entire world had narrowed to the space they shared, to the heat between their bodies. To him, and him only. 

She moaned again as Matt’s hips shifted and his arousal pressed against her right where she wanted it. She knew she was leaving a trail of her own arousal against the material of his jeans, but she didn’t care. 

She trailed her hands down his abdomen, over scars and muscles and fine hair, until she could reach between them for the button on his jeans. She palmed him through the thick denim and was rewarded with a jerk of his hips. 

Matt pulled away, panting slightly, his sightless eyes latched somewhere near her chest. 

“I want to–do this right,” Matt said. 

“It feels really, really right to do it against the wall,” Grace said in answer. Her voice was breathless, pleading. If she didn’t get him inside her in the next sixty seconds she was either going to scream or spontaneously combust or both. 

“I know,” Matt said, lips against her throat again. He pressed a chaste kiss to the spot where her pulse pounded. “Believe me, I’m right there with you. But–” 

“You want to do it right,” she finished. She did, too. But what difference did a bed make when they were already in the perfect position? It felt like the past few weeks had been leading up to this moment–from her dreams to the night after Josie’s to the shower they’d shared. 

Matt very carefully stepped away from her and held her as her feet hit the ground. He kissed her again, long and lingering, and her blood heated all over again. The spark and fire wasn’t gone–it had merely changed to a slower, more intense burn. It was all-consuming, this fire, and still it wasn’t enough. 

“Please, Matt,” she murmured as she dipped her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and yanked him closer. “I just need you to fuck me.” 

Lust flared on his face and he made a noise halfway between a growl and a groan. 

“The condoms are in the bedroom,” he said after a moment. He took her hand and tugged her along behind him towards the bedroom. “Otherwise I would let you talk me into it.” 

Grace dropped her small purse onto the couch on the way by. It fell over and out slid her phone, skittering halfway across the hardwood floor before she could stop it. 

She giggled and let go of Matt to chase after it. 

“It’s like I’m drunk without any alcohol,” she said as she scooped up her phone. “You make me dizzy.” 

Matt smiled at her. As horny as she was, affection unfurled and bloomed in her chest at the fondness in that smile. She smiled back at him, taking him in, letting the affection wrap its arms around the lust to combine into something far sweeter than she could ever have imagined. 

She glanced at her phone to make sure there were no emergencies–not that she had many contacts these days anyways–and nearly dropped the phone again. Her heart stopped then started again. 

Three text messages, all from an unsaved number. 

But it was a number she knew by heart. 

Grace, we need to talk, the first message said when she opened it with trembling fingers. 

Matt noticed the shift in her mood, the uptick in her pulse that had nothing to do with what they had just been doing. “Grace?” he said, stepping forward with a hand out. She barely noticed the tension in his shoulders. 

A restraining order? Seriously? said the second message. 

There’s nowhere you can go that I won’t find you. You belong to me. 

Grace slowly looked up at Matt, fear and anger warring for space in her gut. “It’s Dean.”

Next Chapter

taglist:

@zaminoo​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @yanna-banana​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @bellal1 @thetrinitytest​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @harry-bowie-mercury​​​​​​​​​​​ @lorosette​​​​​​​​​​ @feliciab1990​

[aynsleywalker]

So, usually, my writing is pretty selfish. The plots, the dialogue, everything is kind of written just for me, but I'm feeling a little pumped about this scene so I thought I'd go ahead and share it.

Also, did I reference Pedro characters in a Daredevil fic? I sure did.

I am currently super obsessed with Matt Murdock and Frank Castle, and this is just a little scene with Matt that I'm liking. 😊

Loving the Devil is a Sin

(A scene snippet)

Matt Murdock x Female OOC (Finley Grey)

** Trigger Warnings ⚠️ : Panic Attack, references to past character deaths, self blame, blood, wounds, references to weapons, sorry if I missed something! **

“What happened here, Angel?  This is deep,” he murmured, his hands encircling her waist to help her up onto the table as he tried to keep himself from listening too closely to the way her tac pants slid down to her ankles, baring the length of her muscular, he was certain soft, legs.

“Bullet ricochet,” she muttered, hissing loudly when he pressed a clean cloth over the wound.

His head shot up as his eyes widened at her, his palm unintentionally pressing the white towel a little more firmly against the deep, still bleeding wound.  “You didn’t say something earlier?”

“Of course not,” she scoffed, grasping his wrist lightly to keep him from moving his hand any more.  “Matt you just pointed out earlier that I don’t speak up.  I was going to patch you up first and then hole up in the bathroom to lick my wounds like usual.  This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot, Matthew.”

“Sweetheart…” His eyebrows knitted together as his entire expression crumbled in something akin to agony.

“No!  Matt, not since… I meant before.  I’ve been shot before I came to you for help.  I would have asked you for help for a gunshot wound.”

“This is a gunshot wound!” he pointed out, his pitch rising.

“This is a ricochet wound!” she countered, her own pitch rising defensively in response.

“Finley,” he growled in warning, a sigh following.  “If you want to fight about semantics – “

“I don’t want to fight at all!  I’m sitting on your table with my pants around my ankles when I would much rather have your suit off stitching that gash in your arm, Murdock.  What do you want from me!?  This isn’t what I do, ok?  Every partner I’ve ever had has gotten killed!  I fucking refuse to let you get killed on my watch!”

She shoved his hand away, swallowing the cry of pain as the towel fibers scraped fiercely against the re-opened wound and slipped off the table.  Wrenching her pants up, she fastened the button on her way up the stairs toward the rooftop exit of his apartment, ignoring him calling out for her.

She knew this had been a bad idea from the start.  She should have stuck to her original plan.  Using him for his contacts and his knowledge of Hell’s Kitchen and nothing more, just like she had told him at the start.  Dragging him into the fights, letting him convince her to use his apartment, allowing herself to get to know him… She had given herself the opportunity and she had unintentionally taken it.

She had caught feelings for the Devil and she was going to pay for those sins now.

There was a reason she worked alone.  There was a reason she had never taken another partner.  Every one of them… Marcus, Dave, Jack, Javi…  Every one of them had been killed on missions with her.

Had she gotten them killed?

No.

Maybe.

Could she have saved them?

The Agency handlers said no, but her mind said yes.

She could have found her way back into that Minotaur’s labyrinth of jungle foliage back in Columbia to find Javi.  She could have fought her way back through those soldiers, those gunslingers, those drug runners.  She’d been young, but skilled enough to have found him in time.

She could have found more ammunition somewhere in the hallways, in the darkened rooms of those drug dens in Argentina to re-load to cover Jack instead of the other way around.  Surely somewhere there had been a loose weapon.  Loose ammo.  Jack hadn’t needed to fall back.

She could have lined up and taken those shots faster over Dave’s shoulder.  She had the sniper training.  She was fast.  Faster than she had been that day.

She could have… Marcus. 

Fuck!

Sweet, kind, generous Marcus.

Marcus had given his life to save hers.  There was nothing she could have done to save Marcus.

And now here she was, years after having had a partner for the last time and even though Matt wasn’t technically a partner and he out skilled her on so many levels, her mind had hit that loop, seen those men, remembered those recovery missions and realized this had to end.

She couldn’t work with Matt anymore.

She had fallen so hard so fast for both Matt Murdock and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, for Daredevil, whatever he was called, and she had to back out of it now.  End their agreement.  Stop asking for his help and keep rolling on her missions alone.  She couldn’t handle losing someone else she cared about – especially not someone this deeply.

The icy air of New York City at 3am in mid-February hit her like a ton of bricks and she let out the sob that was clenched in her chest, rushing out to the edge where she and Matt had watched and listened to the city living beyond them so many times.  She could feel the heat of the fresh blood from her leg gel immediately, gumming her pants right to her skin, just like the other still fresh wounds she hadn’t told him about though he obviously already knew about them.

Fuck what she wouldn’t do to have his sense of hearing right then to find a fucking fist fight out on the streets just to expend the sudden race of adrenaline pumping through her system.  The prickle of it beneath her skin like grasping an electric fence, the sensation muted by the stretch of it through every inch of her. Like the sensation of coming in from being out in the cold too long when sensation began to come back to hands and feet, tiny pins and needles skating through muscle and skin, tightening and stabbing, almost vibrating with life coming back from complete numbness.

Her gaze moved to the brilliance of the electronic billboard across from Matt’s building, forcing herself to focus on it, forcing herself to pick out and count the individual pixels in too bright colors as she desperately tried to rein in the panic rising up in her.  Her throat tightened, and that panic began physically lapping up her throat like individual waves at the edge of a lake, too quick and too shallow but stirring over rocks with enough force to erode them into sand and silt given enough time and strangling the breath right out of her.

The fight for oxygen became more real as those waves became stronger, white caps forming on the lake pushing the waves higher until blackness invaded the edges of her vision and she found herself counting and re-counting the same pixels of light over and over again.

Hands were suddenly grasping her jaw from either side, gently but firmly caging her face and firmly turning her head.  The very last of her breath left in a tiny yelp of surprise before Matt’s eyes registered, mahogany and cinnamon swirling and swimming in her vision as a single word, “Breathe,” filtered into her brain in just the right tone, just the right amount of authority, that her base instincts listened.

Her mouth opened wide, lungs filling on a deep gasp, followed by another, and another as her gaze locked on his steady, unfeeling gaze, his mouth moving, although she couldn’t hear.  Couldn’t register.

A moment, or a dozen, passed as her body re-oxygenated, the panic easing just enough for her to recognize Matt’s voice, recognize his words, the world finally surrounding her again and settling back into place around her with a dull thump.

He was still in the suit, though he'd removed the gloves, his hands somehow still warm where they held her face steady, the pads of his thumbs stroking slow and steady against the fine hairs just above her temples.

“That’s it.  There you go.  Just keep breathing for me, sweetheart.”

[yarrystyleeza]

Fixing Ties

Chapter Two snippet under the cut!!! 💕✨

In the other room, the heat was rising up his neck, he was nervous, his hands are shaking. The sound of her heels softly clicking on the wooden floor is making his heart tick faster with each step she takes. She takes a sip of her coffee, her heart beats faster and she's smiling. He's jittering with each breath she takes, she's looking outside the window and tucking her stray bangs behind her ear, her earring swings to the movement of her hand, and his heart sways with it.

He regrets not answering the phone, he wouldn't have to shake like a broken blender despite her standing in a completely different room—yet he couldn't leave her waiting downstairs.

He couldn't tie his necktie, no matter how hard he tried, his hands kept trembling and his mind kept straying. "Damn it..." he cursed under his breath, but it was loud enough for her to hear it.

"Are you okay, Matt?" she asked, still giving him privacy. He walked out of his room, tie in his hand and face is flustered.

"Couldn't tie it," he sighed. She approaches, his heart is burning and the blood is pumping wild in his ears.

"Can I help you with it?" she asks, her fingertips are softly touching his. He nods. She feels his hands shaking beneath her touch. "Are you alright?" she asks with a smile, her voice is warm with worry, "you're shaking..."

He knows, oh Hell—he knows. "I... I don't-- I don't know..." he blurts, "maybe I'm just... Tired... Yeah."

She takes the black tie and starts wrapping it around her arm. "Learned this trick a while ago," she says, "you spread the thick part along your arm and wrap the thin part three times around your wrist," she explains, "then you pull the second loop through the first loop... And we're done. You're just gonna have to put it on."

She smiled proudly at herself. "I'm just gonna adjust it a bit..." she fixes the length of each end and widens the loop. "Can I help you put it on-- unless you want to--do it yourself--"

He shook his head, "of course—you can... Thank you." he smiles with his red face as she passes his head through the noose.

"You're welcome," she responded with a grin, fixing his collar around the noose before fitting it around his neck. "It looks good," she addressed, smiling.

"I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

But now I see daylight, I only see daylight" 💕✨

Close-ups:

I can't emphasize how much I love this piece, I'm really proud of myself 🥺🥺🥺 I tried new things like working on lighting and shadow 😋 I need to study for my next exam on Tuesday tho 😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬😬

[farfromstrange]

WORDLE | Matt Murdock x OFC

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | AO3

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Summary: Eliza and Foggy play Wordle and things to a little out of hand. But what else do you expect to happen between two people who are more competitive than professional athletes when it comes to playing games?

Warnings: None. Some suggestive language maybe, but overall humor & fluff. Not proof-read. Just found this again after 5 months.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/n: This is a draft that’s been sitting here for a very long time. The idea just popped into my mind after i lost 5 times in a row BECAUSE OF ONE LETTER so yeah, have fun ig. I’ve written it with my OC’s name so I can’t exactly say you can read it like a reader insert, but you can still read it even when you haven’t read the series and don’t exactly want to. If you do though, the links are above. Enjoy!

“Franklin Percy Nelson! If you put a ‘j’ instead of a ‘y’ we’re no longer friends!”

“I’m gonna put the ‘j’. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“NO!”

Eliza’s voice boomed across the small office. Pretty sure at this point, even the neighbors were aware of their heated discussion.

The official Wordle.org page was the reason that the pair sat crammed over Foggy’s laptop on that particular morning. Eliza admitted that it was her idea. She found out about the game on social media. Everyone was playing it and she thought, why not? The worst thing that could happen was an extended vocabulary.

Foggy chose to play with her simply because he was competitive and he couldn’t stand Eliza winning all by herself. He heard her curse in Matt’s office earlier that day after her boyfriend left her to fend for herself – the good friend he was, he asked her what was wrong. All she did was show him the page. That was enough for Foggy to drag her into his office and pull up the page on his laptop.

Thirty minutes later, neither of them got any work done, but at least they’d won about fifteen rounds. The times they failed stood heavy on the piece of paper they used to keep score. Mostly, it was Foggy’s fault. Eliza didn’t take criticism on that. One letter always made them lose, and it was often Foggy’s choice to form the finishing word.

That’s how they ended up in this position. Eliza swore this was the last round to make an even twenty. Foggy agreed, telling her that he knew what the word would be. She’d never doubted anyone this badly before. His judgment was questionable, especially while playing games, and she was so not willing to lose the last round because of him.

Half of the boxes on the page were colored in yellow while the bottom line shone bright green. Only one gray letter remained.

“It’s obviously mayor,” Eliza insisted.

“Why?” Foggy challenged.

“Because I said so, duh!”

“That’s not a viable argument!”

“It is because I’m smarter! It’s ‘mayor’! They always choose the less obvious solution. ‘Major’ is too obvious.”

“No, it’s not. See?” he put the word down. “This is gonna work, trust me.”

Eliza slapped his hand away from the enter button. “Don’t you dare!” she hissed.

“Bet!” He pulled his hand away.

“FOGGY, NO!”

“Foggy, yes!”

She spun his chair around quickly, pushing him away from the desk. He yelped as he rolled across the room.

“It’s ‘mayor’, end of story!” She typed the word into the row.

Foggy came rolling back, catching her hands in the act. “IT’S NOT!” he said.

“IT IS!”

“IS NOT!”

“IT IS, YOU ABSOLUTE MORON!”

“You are insufferable.” He caught her by the waist. She struggled in his grip, hands tied to her sides. “How does Matt put up with you?”

Eliza hit him with her elbow directly into the ribs and said, without even missing a beat, “You’ve obviously never had sex with me.”

Foggy’s arms dropped. “EW!” he squeaked. “You are so gross!”

“Trust me, it’s phenomenal. Like my Wordle skills.”

“You can’t compare Wordle to sex.”

“Yes, I can, and I will.” Her finger ghosted dangerously close over the enter button. He rolled over her foot with his chair. She stumbled aside.

“Stop it, it’s not ‘mayor’!” he said. “It’s ‘major’! Do you even know what that means?”

“Yeah, I’m in a relationship with Matt,” she retorted and butted her hip against his chair.

“What?” Foggy asked.

“Yeah, because-“

“I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN, STOP IT! I DONT NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOUR SEX LIFE!”

“Who’s talking about our sex life?”

The horror in their eyes as they stared at Matt in the doorway was something he would’ve loved to frame.

Eliza’s hair was all disheveled, Foggy’s cheeks flushed. They kept each other rooted on the spot, neither of them willing to let the other gain access to the laptop.

Matt put his hands on his hips. “What’s going on?” he asked. “What’re you guys doing?”

“Nothing,” they said in unison.

“That’s not what it sounded like.”

“We were just… talking,” Foggy told him.

Matt tried hard to keep himself from smirking. “So you weren’t yelling at each other?”

“No,” he scoffed, “why should we?”

“I don’t know, I think I heard my name being dropped. I’m not sure about the context though,” he titled his head in Eliza’s direction. “Sweetheart, care to elaborate?”

He was just teasing her and she knew it. She knew Matt like the back of her hand. He was well aware of what this was about, yet she still blushed like a fool at the way his voice dropped into something that could only be described as mockery.

She did what she knew best. “Matthew Michael Murdock, get your head out of the gutter!” And she copied his stance perfectly.

He shifted on his feet. “Says the one who was talking about my-“

“MAYOR!” she pressed the enter button as Foggy was trying not to listen to the conversation.

He gasped in shock. “YOU-“ the confetti exploded at their victory. “BITCH!”

Matt’s jaw tightened. “What did you just call her?” he asked.

“Dude, you’re not part of this conversation. Stay out of it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know what,” Eliza said, glowing like a glow stick with her smile wider than anything else, “I may be a bitch, but at least I’m the winning bitch.”

“How is it ‘mayor’?” Foggy asked. “It’s supposed to be ‘major’, that’s not fair. I feel betrayed!”

“Boohoo, go cry about it to your mommy. You just can’t deal with the fact that you lost.”

“We need to play another round.”

“No, we don’t. You’re just a bad loser.”

“I’m not! This was obviously rigged. You probably used your powers to trick me. Ah-ha!”

Her eyes widened. “You take that back!”

“Nope.”

“Foggy!”

Matt looked between them, rubbing his forehead in exhaustion. “What did I just walk into?” he asked.

Eliza slapped the laptop shut. “The end of our friendship,” she said.

“You’re breaking up with me?” Foggy pouted.

“Yeah, I am.”

“No, I’m breaking up with you. You cheated!”

“I didn’t cheat!”

“Then the game cheated.”

“That’s not even a thing!”

“Who are you to judge that? Did you program the thing?”

“No, but-“

“THE GAME CHEATED, OKAY?”

They didn’t even realize that the door had closed again.

Matt distanced himself from the office. He walked by Karen on his way to his own quarters.

“What’s going on in there?” she asked him. “I only hear yelling.”

He only sighed, “Can I get a refund?”

“For what?”

“My girlfriend.“

Karen laughed. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, “just realized that I’ve got a weird one.”

The door flew open. Eliza peaked her head around the corner. “I heard that,” she said.

“That was intentional,” Matt retorted. This time, he couldn’t help the smile growing on his lips.

Her eyes narrowed. Next thing he knew, she’d grabbed his hand and pulled him into his office.

“Are you going to murder me?” he asked.

“Worse,” she smirked sheepishly.

“Oh boy.”

“You’re gonna play wordle with me.”

“What’s that?”

She pecked his lips. “Oh, you’re gonna love it.”

“Something tells me I’m not.”

He listened to her type in the password to his laptop, fingers eager and determined.

“Come here or I’m not having sex with you for a week,” she said. Her words sounded so sweet but the threat was obvious – and to some, that might not even have been a threat, but to Matt, it sounded like the end of the world.

He loosened his tie quickly, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “What are we playing again?” he asked.

She pushed him into the office chair, making herself comfortable on his lap. He grunted at her weight on his still sore body. The second she tried to leave though, he pulled her back in. Her warmth was almost comforting to his injuries.

“Wordle is like a workout for your mind, you know? You gotta guess a five-letter word by typing other words. You’ve got five tries. The letters that are in this word will show yellow if they’re in the wrong position and green if they’re in the right position. You gotta get the last word right or you lose. I’ll tell you what color they are, of course, since you can’t see them, but you get the gist.”

He buried his nose in her neck. The words passed by him, only the sound of her voice filled his ears. “Hmm,” he hummed against her.

“Are you even listening to me?” she asked.

“Hmm.”

“What’s the first word then?”

“Warm.”

“That’s four letters, Matt. Take it seriously! This is an important game.”

“What if we lose?”

“Then I’m gonna be very sad,” she said.

He couldn’t help but kiss the pout on her lips away. “I wouldn’t want that.”

“Then will you play with me?”

“Sure, sweetheart. Let’s play Wordle.”

“Fucking finally! I just know you’re far more competent than Foggy will ever be.”

“Don’t let him hear that,” he chuckled, “But I do agree.”

She kisses him, her lips tilted up into the most adorable smile. “You ready?” she asked.

He tightened his hold around her, burying his nose deeper into her neck before agreeing, “Let’s do this.”

“Good choice.”

“I love you,” he said.

“And I love you.”