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skyfallslayer · 22 days ago

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The Daughter of The (Dare)Devil - Story 11

|| Matt Murdock x Daughter!OC ||

Series Masterlist || Hiatus Recap

(Please Reread recap if needed)

Summary: Trying to rebuild the many crumbling things in her life, Kaila must keep things civil between her father and his old acquaintances. But during the trial of Castle v State, this might be proven more difficult than ever. (Set During S2E06 - E08, “Regrets Only”, “Semper Fidelis” and “Guilty as Sin”.)

Date: 4/2/25

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 19,514 (My Treat To You Guys)

Warning: The Murdocks Are Stubborn People; Frank's PTSD; Heavy Angst; Heavy Language; Allusions To Mental Illness; Bullet Wounds/Recovery; Implied Child Abuse; Talks of Mental Abuse; Talks of Violence; Talks of Death/Murder; Implied Abandonment Issues; The Murdocks Could Use All The Hugs In The World; Matt Being Overprotective (He Needs A Warning, I think?); Past Toxic Relationship(s); Elektra Could Use A Warning Herself; Suggestive 18+ Themes; Foggy & Karen Being MVPs again. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

- Let me know if I missed anything, please.

A/N: AND I COME BACK FROM THE ASHES!!! And yes, we're going to ignore the fact that I've had writers block on this story for a long time (amongst other issues, personal and computer). I bet this will be your reaction:

Like the DM I answered the other day, I just had surgery done and is on bed rest for a while, so I have no excuse to ignore my older stories anymore -- Not like I wanted to "abandon" this one. I am DETERMINED to finish this up. And thanks to DD:BA, this has really lit the fire back in me to start writing for DD again. Thank you, THANK YOU for your patience, and hopefully this was worth the wait 😄.

Also, on a side note, I decided to update all the aesthetic boards for all the stories. In my opinion, they look SO much better than what I had before. So, feel free to check them out, too. - 'Nother side note, we're getting Dad!Punisher in this because Frank deserves all the love in the world in this fic (and it'll be important later on).

The door swung open and two teenagers stepped inside. The young Murdock trailed behind her guest as she locked the door, watching him take the place in. Her emotions were mixed, and it was brewing in her stomach of nervousness. I mean how long has she been home now? Over a week? Almost a fortnight?

I don’t even know. She swallows. “Uh, d-do you want anything to drink? Or…”

“Oh, uh, n-no. No thanks. Uh…” He chuckles in amusement. “No offense, but when I think of lawyers, I think they have big fancy apartments.” He said, looking back at her.

She smirked, amused too. “Well, when you have your own business it can be a little hard. Especially when they specialize in, uh… ‘charity cases’.”

“Well, I guess as long as you stay true to your own values, it doesn’t matter where you live.”

“True.” Kaila leans against her crutch, watching him walk around the living room. “Although, for Hell’s Kitchen, it was pretty cheap.”

Jayden raises an eyebrow. “How’d you manage that?” And from there, her grin grew on cue just as the infamous billboard flipped on to blind them both. He cussed out of surprise, making her laugh. “Okay. Now, I see.” He said, while covering the side of his face from the light. “I know it’s cheap, but how did your Dad think this was a good idea?”

“Well, my Dad is blind.”

He blinks. “Your Dad’s blind?” She nods. “Oh… sorry, I didn’t know.”

Kai shrugs. “It’s fine, seriously. We don’t take it personally.” She smiles and looks around, memories flooding in. “I grew up in this place, so it doesn’t really bother me. I just tend to pay no heed to the flashing lights at night.”

“Well, you have a lot more willpower than I do. This would drive me crazy.”

The two of them laughed before being enslaved with silence. A very awkward silence. The Murdock was the first to break eye contact, looking at the corner of the room, racking her brain for things she could say. Like… ‘Sorry I got kidnapped? I know it’s making this awkward’? Eh… maybe not that. What can she say that won’t sound so strange?

He clears his throat, pulling her from her thoughts. “So, uh…” Jayden fiddles with his hands, finally taking her full appearance in. “Did uh… did y-you get hurt?”

Kaila meets his gaze before looking down at her healing leg. “Y-Yeah.” She says, frowning. “Uh, the guy who took me, uh, hurt me after I got a little lippy.”

“Ah. I-I see. Um…” He looks and sounds so uncomfortable being here, and he knows it. “I uh, got your messages–”

“Jayden.” She begins, looking a bit guilty. “I’m so sorry about all those. I know they were quite excessive of me. I… I should have just texted once and been done.”

He shakes his head. “Look, Kaila, you have every right to do what you did. I should be the one apologizing.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I do.” He pushes, remorsefully. “Look, The whole… kidnapping thing I– I was worried shitless out of mind. Everyone at work was too. And when we heard that you were safe, it was a huge amount of relief for us. We all tried to visit you in the hospital, but you know, it’s–”

“Family only?” She says, getting him to nod.

“Yeah. So when I texted you after hearing you were discharged, you just…” He sighs, his stiff form falling. “You just sounded like… that what just happened to you was a typical Friday. Even our Boss, when you told him you were taking medical leave, said you sounded like it didn’t happen at all.” He shifts on his feet. “I guess I just didn’t know how to respond myself or what to say. I mean, for all I know, you could have just been still processing what just happened. So for that, I’m really, really sorry. I’ve been a shitty friend.”

She suddenly recalls back to the conversation yesterday with her dad -- Everything finally making sense.

“He’s also probably taken back by how you responded. To him, you might have sounded… too okay with a text. It might have been different if you two would have talked on the phone or face-to face.”

Ah. So my Dad was right. I did sound too okay. Man, she really wants to slap herself silly right now.

“I… I appreciate the apology, but I don’t think it’s really needed.” Kaila says, raising her hand to stop him from saying something. “Let me finish. I should have been better about expressing myself. It’s a cross I have to bear. I’ve always been terrible at it.”

He frowns, worriedly. “Kaila.”

“It’s okay.” She shrugs again. “Seriously. I mean… I am… getting better, but I’ve been having nightmares about it. I still… have other bad things in my past that are mixing up with this new one and it’s started to take a toll.”

Sometimes, when she closes her eyes, she’s back at the warehouse with Wesley. Sometimes, she still imagines Fisk at the end of her bed, taunting her for her defensive kill. Sometimes, she still thinks she’s going to wake up and her family is going to pay the price for her sin.

It makes the everlasting knot in her stomach tighten even more.

Her expression deepens as she finishes, “And I’m trying to be strong for everyone else, but I think I’m just fooling myself at this point. I don’t know if I’ll ever be a hundred percent again.”

“That’s the thing, Kaila, No one’s expecting you to be.” Jayden replies, truthfully. “Especially after that. Hell freaking no.”

She chuckles bleakly. “That’s the thing… I… I want to be. But I know I can’t.”

He copies her, messing with his hands again. “No wonder we hit it off, you sound like me.”

She tilts her head. “Do I?”

“Yeah. Um… I told you about my parents, right?” He asks, and she nods. “Well, It was kind of an arranged marriage between them. Dad needed something from her family and it kind of just happened. Uh, he wasn’t a good person, and he wasn’t physically abusive, but–” He shook his head at the memory. “Man, he knew how to get in your head.”

“I’m surprised she actually got out of that. You told me they split, right?”

“Yeah, they did, and I’m actually surprised she did too. But, uh, my point being is, he used to use my Mom’s… flaws against her, and against me. He knew by poking around it would mess me up.”

“That’s…” Kaila scoffs in disbelief. “That’s really disturbing.”

“Yeah. It is.” Jayden agrees. “And just like you, I tried to be okay after they split, you know, be the man of the house, but… I-I knew I wouldn’t, I couldn’t be. I… I knew well enough that I couldn’t be a hundred percent. For anyone or myself. No amount of any kind of healing method can fill me back up.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah. I have to be.” His frown deepens. “And… I find talking about it does help. I’m not saying you have to specifically tell me anything, but from my experience, it is nice to talk about it with someone. Even if you don’t tell them the whole thing, just a little bit helps in the long run.” He averts his gaze. “Sorry if that was a bit of a downer…”

“No, no. I–” She smiles a little. “I think I needed to hear that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think I do need to talk to someone about my troubles.” She hugs herself, thinking. “Maybe… maybe I should start going to church like my Dad.”

He cracks a smile, too. “That’s one way to start.”

“Yep.” She feels a bit of weight get taken off her shoulders. “Thanks for saying all that. I know it was probably hard talking about your Dad.”

He waves her off. “Don’t mention it. It’s the least I do for ghosting you, you know?”

She laughs. “Seriously, man, don’t worry about it. We’re still friends, right?”

And that’s when his face fell completely and his body subtly got stiff again. He looked like he was a kicked puppy; Those olive eyes holding an emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

He grips his hands together, nervously. “That’s the thing, I… I think that’s going to be a little difficult.”

Her heart sank as she gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“Listen, Kaila. There’s another reason why I was being distant. Probably the real reason.”

Okay, now he’s scaring her (Why can’t she have any nice things?!). “And what’s that?”

“I…” He takes a deep breath as he stands right in front of her. “My name is–” He was suddenly cut off by loud knocking, startling them both. They both stay quiet for a second, puzzled (Nervous?).

“Did you bring anyone else along?” Kaila asked, turning her attention away from the door and back to him.

“No.” Jayden shakes his head, and locks eyes with her. “You expecting someone?”

“No. And everyone I do know has a key to this place.” Who the heck could be at her door now? But she felt herself grow a bit pale at the possibility of someone else trying to snatch her up again. No… not again. That can’t be possible… right?

Jayden must have seen her face, and went into defensive mode. “I’ll check. Just stay put.” He said, and walked away.

That got her to snap out of it. “Jayden–”

“Relax. I’ll get it.” He ignores her calling his name on repeat, and focuses on the next round of knocking. Carefully, he opens the door slowly to find a woman about eye level with him, sun kissed skin and dashing dark eyes. He almost seemed mysteriously captivated by her appearance; he almost forgot why he opened the door in the first place. “Uh, hello–”

“Hello, young man.” She greeted with an (un)settling smile. “Is the young lady home?”

He blinks to get out from under her ‘spell’. “Uh, who–?”

“Who’s at the door?” Kaila asked, finally managing to wobble herself over, only to immediately freeze up when seeing who it was.

“Hello.” Elektra said, chippy.

“Kaila, who’s this?” Jayden asked, looking between the two. The young girl tries to say something, but is quickly cut off.

“I’m her mother.”

“Mother?” He said, confused. “I thought you told me your mother left you when you were a baby?”

“I did. But we just decided to rekindle. Anywho–” She brushes her way in, pushing and swapping places with him. “Goodbye.” She shuts the door in his face, and turns her attention to the girl who’s backing away. “Hello, little one. Let’s chat.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Foggy nodded in the open air like his girlfriend could magically see it. He hums into his phone, patiently waiting for the coffee machine to fill up his cup. “Yes – Yes – Yes, I’m sorry, Marci. – Yeah. Yeah. Well I got a few things to finish.” He raises an eyebrow at her reply. “Then why are you complaining? You’re stuck at work, too.”

He chuckles, and smiles. “Yes – I’ll make it up to you, I promise – I promise. I will.” He smiles and grabs his cup, taking a minute to let it cool before drinking. “Yes, I will – I will, don’t worry – Awe. Love you, too – Goodnight.”

Oh, Marci. He tells himself, wandering back to his desk. He decided after dropping Kaila off he would go to the office to put together some stuff for the Castle case, which he still wasn’t a hundred percent on board with representing him -- Despite him, you know, saving his Niece. But it was two against one in this law firm and he was the odd man out.

I just don’t want us to get too screwed in this. Especially with freaking Reyes on our asses. But before Foggy could even begin sorting through the paperwork, oddly enough at this late hour, the phone rang.

Shooting straight up in surprise, and double checking what the actual time is on his watch, a million things went through his mind. Who could be calling an attorney at this time at night?

Getting up from his desk and heading over to Karen’s reception area, he picks it up. “Nelson & Murdock Attorney Firm, Foggy Nelson speaking.”

‘Huh. So I did call the right place.’

That’s not what I was expecting. And is that a kid? Foggy raises an eyebrow and skeptically asks, “Who is this?” He swears this better not be a prank call. He is not in the mood for one of those tonight.

‘Mr. Nelson, I’m only calling because I don’t have anybody’s personal number. I’m calling because I’m concerned about Kaila.’

“Kaila?” His heart skips a beat. He remembers the last call he got when it was about Kaila -- And it was Brett telling him she was taken away. Oh god, not again, please.

But he swallows his worries and stays level headed. “Wait… who is this?”

‘I’m Jayden. I’m a friend from work.’

His eyes widened slightly, remembering the name now. Oh, this is THE Jayden! Okay now. But what is he–

‘I was visiting her since I haven’t seen her in a bit. Anyway, as I was leaving a woman was at the door.’

A woman? Karen? He scolds himself. No… wait. Karen is on a date with Matt. So that leaves her out of–

‘She claimed to be her mother–’

His brain short circuited. Wait… what?!

No. That can’t be right. That shouldn’t be right. After fifteen long years Mary decides to crawl out of the rock she’s been hiding under and visits?!

That very thought made his blood boil. Why, that fucking bi–

‘But I remember Kaila telling me that her mother left her when she was young and hasn’t been seen since. The woman told me they recently had rekindled but, I don’t know… something doesn’t feel right. And Kaila looked a little uncomfortable. So–’

“A woman?” Foggy’s heart was in his throat as he nervously held onto the phone cord. “What did she look like?” He swears if he says blue eyes and reddish-brown hair he’s going to–

‘Tall, dark hair and eyes. Had an accent–’

His heart skipped another. Oh, no…

‘I was hoping you would know what’s going on, or maybe you can pass the message onto her dad? Or maybe you know what’s going. Like I said, it just seems a bit weird to me.’

‘Cause it fucking is! But he has to stay calm now. He doesn’t know all the details, he can’t jump straight to panic yet. “Shit… uh, thank you. I will call her Dad, um–”

Keep it together, Foggy! He mentally slaps himself straight. “W-What was your name again?”

‘It’s Jayden, sir.’

“Well, Jayden, thank you. I’ll take care of it.” Foggy hangs up, maybe a little more forceful than he wanted to be. “Fuck.” He starts frantically grabbing all his belongings as he starts calling up his friend’s number.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt was lazily playing with a strain of her golden hair, while Karen was softly tracing one of his fading scars across his chest. They both couldn’t keep the smiles off their flushed faces.

“You know…” She begins after a while of comforting silence. “I can finally understand the tales of College Playboy Matt Murdock.”

“Oh, yeah?” His grin grows at her cheekiness.

“Mmm, hmm.”

“Well… is that a good thing, Miss Page?”

“It is a very good thing.” She replies, leaning now on his chest.

“Well that’s good.” He brushes her cheek. “I’m glad I can live up to the stories.”

“I’m glad, too.” They lean in for a quick kiss before melting back into his arms. “Can I ask you something? And it’s a bit silly.”

“What is it?”

She hums, and looks up at him. “When did you… you know, start liking me?”

His eye brows shoot up. “Liking you?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm… yesterday.”

She blinks. “Yesterday.”

“Yep.” He nods. “Definitely yesterday.”

She scoffs playfully. “Yesterday?”

“Oh, yeah.” He hums loudly. “I just… thought I’d kiss you and see if it felt right, you know?”

“Oh, my, god–” Karen shakes her head and picks up a pillow. “You suck!” She laughs, and lightly smacks him with it.

He laughs too. “Ow… you’re hitting a poor defenseless blind man, Miss Page.”

“Defenseless, my ass, Mr. Murdock.” She chuckles, setting her pillow aside.

“I’m kidding.” Matt says, still grinning. “If I’m being honest, I think pretty early on. I think it especially started when you didn’t judge me over the whole thing with how Kai was brought into my life.”

She looks at him all confused. “People judged you on that?”

“Some did.” He shrugs. “But you, you took all the, for the lack of better words, ‘messiness’ in my life and you handled it pretty well. I think what really made me realize I like you is by what you said the other night. Is that you ‘Loved my daughter’. No one I tried having relationships with in the past has ever come close to that.”

“But who couldn’t love your daughter anyway?” Karen asked, truthfully. “She’s a lot like you, you know?”

“Oh, I know.” He nods. “Still can’t decide if that’s going to be a good thing in the long run.”

“Relax. At the rate she’s going in life, she’s going to be fine. Maybe she’ll be a lawyer? This can be the start of a generational tradition.”

“That’s something I can get behind.” He smiles. “What about you? When did you start liking me?”

“Hmm… yesterday.” She replies, making them both laugh again. “Sorry, I had to.”

“So when was it?”

“It’s…” She groans nervously, her face falling onto his chest for a split second. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Well, when was it?”

“Um…”

“Was it when you thought I was in that car accident and you came for a visit?”

“No.”

“Was it… when my fly was accidentally down that one time?”

She snorts. “What? No.”

“Well, spill it. When was it?”

“I–” She sighs into her hands. “I kind of like you right off the bat.”

“What?” He said, over exaggerated. “Right off the bat?”

“I know…” She mutters, hiding her face.

“So, right as me and Foggy walked into the holding cell, you fell for me.”

“Okay, well maybe a little bit after that. But yeah.”

“Wow.”

“I… I thought you were cute.” She says, propping herself back up.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. And…” Her fondness grows. “After I found out that you were Daredevil, that whole situation where you saved me in my apartment really added fuel to the flames. It made me realize how much you’ve done for me, in and out of that mask.”

“I’ll be honest, I’m actually surprised by your answer.” Matt says, honestly. “I really thought it was when we were playing pool at Josie’s a while ago.”

“Oh, my god!” She gasps, her face turning red as she sits up. “Oh, my god.”

“What?” He replies, worriedly.

“I just realized you could hear my heartbeat the whole time. Oh, lord…” Her face grows two shades darker. “My heart was pounding like crazy when I was teaching you how to play.”

“Karen–” He calls her name as he sits up too.

“And I was practically in your face. Oh, my god…”

“Karen–” He says, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“Oh, how can I not, Matt!” She says, covering her face. “I want to die right now…”

“Awe, well don’t do that.” He starts kissing her neck. “Who’s going to cuddle with me?”

“Matt! Stop!” She laughs, hitting a sensitive spot.

“Gotcha!” He pulls her back making her yelp, before they start making out again. But their loving moment was cut off when his phone started to ring.

[ Foggy ]

“Foggy?” Karen said, surprised.

Matt shifts around to where his phone was laying, confused. “That’s weird. He knows we’re on a date.”

“Well, answer it, maybe it’s important.”

“‘Kay.” He does, holding the phone up to his ear. “Hey, Foggy, what’s going on?”

‘I’m sorry, I know you’re on your date with Karen, but you need to get home now!’

Matt doesn’t like the urgency in his tone and sits up straighter. “Why? What’s going on?”

‘Elektra! That’s what’s going on! Apparently Kai’s friend came to talk to her and when he was leaving Elektra was at the door. He called the office because he thought something wasn’t right.’

He felt his stomach tied in knots. “Fuck.” This is seriously happening right now? “Y-You said she’s at home?”

‘Yeah. She is.’

“Shit, shit. I’ll be right there.” He quickly hangs up, gritting his teeth.

“What’s wrong?” Karen asks, worriedly.

“Elektra.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her name. “She showed up to my house. And Kai’s home alone.”

She didn’t need to hear any more. “I’ll drive you.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

For once in my life, I would like one normal night, please. The young Murdock kept her cool as she watched her unexpected guest walk around her house, looking around the place like it was a museum full of artwork (Maybe to her it really was).

Elektra hums and picks something off one of the open shelves, a picture frame was now in her grasp. “Huh. I can’t believe I missed this.” She looks her way. “Your doing?”

Kaila clenched her jaw, subtly. “My Dad’s actually. Wanted to fill the space up a bit.”

“Well that’s strange.” She sets it down. “The man can’t even see it.”

“Well, he wanted to make the space feel ‘livable’ since, you know–” Kai waves a hand over her own face. “I can see.”

“Hmm. That kind of sounds like him.” Elektra says, and starts walking around again.

This lady… Kaila thought, keeping her guard up while maintaining a straight face. “You know I could call the police. This is technically trespassing.”

“Oh, you sound like your Father.” Elektra cooed, all amused. “Are you studying to be a lawyer too?”

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point.” The woman’s eyes lit up. “You are just like Matthew.”

The teenager so desperately wanted to roll her eyes right then. “Look, if you’re just here to compare me to my Dad, then you’re going to be here all night. Which I rather you not.”

“So sassy. You got his sharp tongue too.”

“For fuck sakes, lady. What do you want? And if you’re here to wait for my Dad, then you’re shit out of luck. He’s out and about, and probably won’t be back till morning. So…” She gestures to the door. “Get the hell out before I call the police.”

Seriously, one night without any drama would be nice. And wait until her dad hears about this, ‘cause there is NO way she’s leaving this interaction a secret.

“How old are you?” Elektra asked, when she was about a foot away.

Kaila quirks one of her brows up. “Are you just here to play twenty questions with me?” She asks back, skeptical.

“If that’s what I must do, then yes.”

“Just me?” The teenager confirms and gets a nod. Well if this is what it takes for her to leave, then so be it. “What’s your question?”

“How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

She seemed taken back by that. “Fifteen?”

“Yep.” Kaila says, watching her face fall a bit.

“So…” Elektra stops to think. “Matthew was in college?”

“About the end of it, yeah.”

“Who’s your mother?”

“Some woman named Mary.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Fling-ish.” Kaila crosses her arms. “Choose wisely, Lady. You have sixteen questions left.”

“Is she still around?” The adult asked.

“No.” Kai slowly smirks after picking up her tone. “You sound kind of jealous. Is this what this interrogation is all about?”

Elektra scoffs and crosses her arms too. “You seem hostile towards me.”

“Well, you did try to kill me.”

“I thought you were an intruder.”

“Kind of like you are right now.”

“Touché.” Elektra hums, and adverts her gaze to look around the room some more.

Kaila exhales through her nose, frowning. “Alright, listen. Elektra, right?”

“Yes.”

“Just cut to the chase. Why are you here? ‘Cause I’m starting to think you came here just to see me and not my Dad after all.”

“Well, you’re right on the money.” She says, with a grin.

“Okay…” The Murdock shrugs. “Spill it then. What do you want with me?”

Elektra stays quiet for a moment, like she was gathering her thoughts up first. “You know your Father and I used to date.”

“Yeah.” She shrugs again. “He’s told me.”

“So he’s told you all about our little adventures and–”

“Look, if you’re here just to score brownie points with me in an attempt to get back together with him, there’s no chance. He’s told me enough about you, and that he’s been over you for a long time.” Kaila straightens up. “I also know about the whole thing where you tried to get him to be your lawyer to help get your Father’s company back, and how you made a large deposit to the law firm. I know all about it. So, save your breath.”

“Well…” Elektra takes a step forward. “Did you know your Father had a bit of a… ‘bad’ side to him when we dated?”

Kaila rolls her coco eyes now. “If you’re talking about the bit of darkness that’s in him, I’ve seen it. Plenty of times actually. And if you’re saying that to scare me, it’s not going to work either.”

“Wow, he tells you alot.” She tilts her head, perplexed by the teen. “None of this scares you?”

“Lady, please, I have a bit of that in me too.” Then Kai finds herself laughing quietly. “Oh, god– this is insane. Ridiculous!” She points to the exit again. “You’re not scaring me. Get out.”

Elektra smacks her lips, hands coming together. “Did he tell you I found the man who killed his Father?” And that was the first thing that actually caught the young girl off guard tonight, and it must have shown. “So he hasn’t?”

Kaila shakes her head, confused. “Wait. You’re telling me that you’re the one who found out who killed my Grandpa?”

“Roscoe Sweeney.” The adult begins and starts walking around again, this time at a slower pace. “A mobster. A corrupted boxer promoter. He loved to use blackmail on the fighter’s under his thumb. And that includes Battlin’ Jack Murdock.”

“Yeah.” The teenager says, keeping her gaze on her as she walks. “He won the fight against Creel instead of losing, and got killed over it. I know that part.” She frowns. “So you told my Dad it was this Sweeney guy?”

“Oh, I didn’t just tell him, sweetheart.” Elektra’s expression grows more. “I brought him to Matthew.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, yes. I… got a couple hits in.” She sighs blissfully as she begins circling around. “Matthew did too. And he was… oh, so close to finishing him off. I mean–” She chuckles. “I encouraged him to. I even presented a knife to do the job, and–”

“Let me guess, my Dad didn’t kill him? And I’m going to put my bottom dollar on the idea that that’s where you broke it off?” Kaila gets no reply, confirming her theory. “So I’m right on the dot, huh?” She shifts her weight around to fully look at her. “I’m never going to be afraid of my Dad, if that’s what you’re trying to do.”

Elektra looks nervous. “Listen–”

“No, it’s time for you to listen.” Kai pushes and narrows her gaze. “I know my Dad, probably not the whole hundred percent, but I do know him enough. And yeah, there are times that he’s scared me, but not in the ways you’re thinking. That part of him, that little bit of darkness, is never going to change. I accepted that.”

Yeah, it did take a while to accept. This past year and some have been such a roller coaster between her and her father, and she’s learned to finally accept the bad that’s come with the good. No matter what happens, he has been and will always be the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

The girl continues, “But you also need to understand that my Dad has worked his ass off for as long as I can remember. He’s not perfect, but the fact that a… blind man in his 20s suddenly had a baby dropped into his lap, and he still somehow made life work, which should tell you everything about him.”

He told her the story of how she came to be, and it amazes her so many times how he handled the situation. He could have easily given her up in his hard living times, but he didn’t. He made sure he did every in his power to give her the life that he never had growing up.

“Sure, it was rough a few times; Sure, he took a few odd jobs for a few months to make some extra cash; Sure, there were times he had no clue if he was doing something right in raising me, but he did it.” Kaila continues proudly. “He made a life for himself, started his own career, turned people around him into his family, he even had the chance to start changing the city for the best. And if you’re just…”

She scoffs. “Stuck with an image of what you two had. And from what I’m gathering you didn’t sit back and see the rest of him; You just saw what you wanted and that’s it. That’s not on him or anyone else. That’s on you, Lady. Deal with it.”

She might as well be playing with fire at this point, especially all the strength and/or stupidness she had for snapping at this woman; But she’s so hung up on her dad, so desperate to paint him a different way, that if the roles were reversed right now, her father would be saying the same thing.

And I’m not letting anybody bad mouth my dad anymore. The teenager held her breath, realizing how quiet everything had just gotten. Maybe I just–

With a swift kick, her crutches were knocked to the side making her immediately clinging onto the back of the couch; Her injured leg reacting to the sudden pressure. She bites her lip and meets the other woman’s intense gaze -- like the hunter had finally stopped playing with its kill.

Elektra bares her teeth. “You–”

“You need to stay away from my Dad.” Kaila snaps, stinging eyes full of anger. “You need to stay away from him, and you need to stay away from everything he’s worked for. His job, his acquaintances, his friends. Everything. And if you really need legal help, go across the street to Landman & Zack’s, I’m sure they’ll be happy to help you.”

“You have no authority.”

“Sure hell I do. My Dad has been the happiest he’s been in a long time, and I will not let you ruin it for him. So Stay. The Fuck. Away From Him.”

Before a bigger outlash of some sort could happen, the front door was slammed wide open, causing the whole place to shake.

“Kai!” Matt shouts, as he runs in at top speed.

“Dad?” Kaila says, surprised.

“Matthew–” Elektra says, before getting aggressively pinned against the wall by him.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” He hissed, as Foggy and Karen surrounded the teenager protectively.

“Matthew–”

“Answer my question!”

“Just thought I would stop by.” She says, eyes avoiding his face to the others. “Is that Franklin? Finally cut that hair of yours.”

Matt shifts his elbow higher and just underneath her jaw, grabbing her attention again. “Talk.”

Her lips fold out into a straight line. “I told you I needed help, no?”

“You told me over the phone it was over.”

“I lied.”

“Yeah, no shit.” He snaps, irritated. “You’ve been lying since you showed up yesterday. And that ends now. I want to know what you’re doing back here in the city, and why the hell you’re in my house with my daughter?”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t need a lawyer, Matthew. I just need some help from your other job.”

He quickly freezes before tightening that grip. “How the fuck do you know about that?”

“Oh, please. I know who you are because I watch the news. ‘The successful apprehension of Wilson Fisk’.”

“I wear a mask.”

“Well, you can’t mask that ass. I’d know it anywhere.” Elektra grins like it was the best news she saw. “You’ve been working out, by the way. I appreciate that.”

He pushes more. “Who are you actually fighting?”

“The Yakuza.”

“The Yakuza?” Is she being serious? “The Yakuza are a powerful organization with powerful enemies.” Matt gets a hum for a reply. “What do they want with you?”

“I guess I have a way of pissing people off sometimes.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

“Come on. Don’t be angry, Matthew.” She tells him in that sweet, seductive voice she tends to use to get her way. “I told you. My money’s planted deeply inside investments with the Roxxon Corporation. And Roxxon has ties to crime.”

“How long have you known that?”

“I didn’t.” Another shrug. “Until the meeting. I stirred the pot a little on the business side. And when I did, who came knocking on my door but the Yakuza. Their mistake, because now, they’re after me. So I need your help.”

“No.” Matt scoffs, which almost sounded like a laugh because it was all just so ridiculous. “Uh-uh. There is no us. This is your problem. Why can’t you just divest your funds from Roxxon and be done with it?”

She sighs. “That’s a coward’s way out. Someone screwed with me. I don’t like that.”

“Then get a lawyer.”

“I thought I did.”

“You fired me for a job I didn’t even take. Call the police.”

“You’re one to talk. ‘Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’.”

“What I do is none of your business, all right? Not anymore.”

“Matthew–”

“Let me tell you what’s gonna happen now.” And he makes sure she’s really listening before continuing, “When I let go, you’re gonna get up and leave. You’re gonna book yourself on the first available flight out of New York and get on it, go back to whatever spa, or resort, or five-star hotel you just came from, and stay out of my city and especially out of my house. If the Yakuza have their sights set on something bigger than your spoiled little rich ass, then I will take care of them.”

“Let me tell you. The Yakuza do have a bigger plan, and I’m not going anywhere.” Elektra says, all high and mighty sounding.

“You can’t fight them.”

“And you can?”

“I drove them out of New York once before.”

She chuckles, amused, “Oh, no, you didn’t. The Yakuza never left. They just hibernated and watched you take out all of their enemies. Now, New York is ripe for the taking, and they plan on getting to the top of the hill first. Well, we’ll scare ‘em back into hibernation. What do you say?” She sticks out her hand. “Partners?”

He only lets go of the hold on her to bat the hand away. “I don’t need a partner. Especially not with you.”

“Yes, you do.” She smiles. “And so do I. Because you have skills. You fight better than anyone I know. But I have information. I gained access to Roxxon’s servers right in front of their little criminal faces. We do it together, we take them down fast and hard. The second it’s done, I’m out of your city. Forever.”

Matt clenches his teeth, trying not to lash out. “The last time I saw you, you put a knife in my hand and asked me to slit Roscoe Sweeney’s throat. I happen to respect human life. Unlike you.”

“Matthew–”

“Get out.”

“Matthew, come on.” She begs, eagerly. “For old time sake. Forget about life for a while. Your job. Give yourself a break from being a father. Let’s drive them out together.”

He scoffs again. “You have… quite a pair on you. This may come as a surprise to you, but I’ve actually moved on in the years since you left. I’m seeing someone now, and I finally have the business I wanted with my best friend; And I have the responsibility of being a parent. Which is why I have zero interest in ever starting anything up with you ever again.”

True. Everything he said was true, which is why she seemed so hurt. She knew he was being truthful.

“Your daughter really was telling the truth.” She said, quietly. Matt says nothing, letting it really sink in. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” She sidesteps around him and starts walking for the exit. “Goodbye, Matthew.”

When she left they all felt like they could breathe when she finally left. It was like a huge weight got pulled from their chests.

“Kai–” Karen begins, squeezing the teenager’s shoulder for attention.

“What happened? Did she do anything to you?” Matt asks, going into protective mode as he is suddenly right by her side.

“She just… wanted to know where I came from.” Kaila replies, truthfully. “I’m okay. Really.”

“You sure?” He pushes.

“Yeah.” Better now that they’re here. “You guys came fast. How?”

“Your friend Jayden called the office.” Foggy replies, catching her by surprise.

“Jayden did?”

“He called because he thought the interaction between the two of you was weird. And thank god he did.” He sighs, his heart has finally stopped pounding. “Now we gotta meet this kid.”

She smiles. “I’m sure you will. We didn’t exactly finish our conversation.”

“So… are you guys good then?”

“Yeah.” Kaila says, with a nod. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

“Awe, that’s wonderful.” Karen said, happily.

“Think this one will stick?” Matt asked, happy too, but still a bit weary.

“Yeah.” Kaila said, confidently. “I think this one will. Unlike past friendships, he wasn’t turned off by the blindness.”

“Hey! That’s great!” Foggy says, clasping his hands together. “I’m liking this kid even better now.”

She laughs. “Yeah…” Then her face falls. “I’m sorry about interrupting your date.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We still had a great time. Right?” Matt asks the blonde.

“Yep. We did.” Karen agrees, just as Foggy plants his hands over the teen’s ears.

“How great of a time?” He teases, causing a bit of blushing between the adults.

“Ew!” Kaila elbows her Uncle. “I can still hear, you know?!”

“Uh, no you can’t.” He shifts his arms around her, and gives her noogie. “Goofball.”

“Hey!”

“So–” His eyes shift back to Matt. “What are you going to do? Are you going to stay the night? Or… I-I mean, I would like to point out, you did kick down the door pretty hard.”

“You kicked the door down?” Kai said, concerned/shocked.

Matt frowns. “We probably should stay somewhere else tonight. Just in case.”

“Want to stay at my place?” Foggy asked, as he got a smug look.

“Will Marci be okay with us sliding into your bed?”

“Oh, shit. Totally slipped my mind.”

Karen laughs quietly. “Want to just come back over?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“You okay?”

Her voice broke through his thoughts like a knife as he was subconsciously rubbing his knuckles while sitting on the edge of the bed (The achiness of wanting to go out and punch something/someone was nagging at him). Of course his mind was going a mile a minute, of course he was getting sucked into his own head; It was another stupid cross he had to bear. He just…

Sick of all of this.

“Every time I think something’s officially over with, it just crawls back from the dead.” He sighs. “What have I done to deserve some of this? I thought I’ve done enough good, and I thought I’ve made up for some of the bad things. But I guess not.”

“Matt–” Karen starts, as she sinks down next to him.

“Remember the story I told you about how Kai came into my life? How I almost gave her up?” He hears her shake her head. “The first year with her, there were a few times I almost went back to that. I just… I can’t see her, and despite all my other senses, I sometimes didn’t even know why she would start crying; Or if she was hungry, or tired, I just didn’t know. And… I mean Foggy was there, thank god, and so was his family, they were always so helpful, but… I was so lost. I doubted myself. There were so many times I thought, ‘Maybe her life would be better without me there’.”

“Matt…”

“And I was nervous about Mary.” He squeezes his hands together. “Enraged too. Hell, there were a lot of emotions there. And it’s not that I wanted her back in my life, yet… I still feel like she needed to be there in some way, you know?”

He still remembers their fights, the last one being pretty miserable to the point they just said ‘Good Riddance’ and went the other way.

Karen senses the hatred and plants her hand on top of his. “Who was Mary?” She asks, carefully.

Matt closes his eyes and takes a sharp breath. “We met when I was in my… ‘party boy era’ so to speak. She was smart, sharp as a tack, quick witted, and very punctual too. She mentioned once her dad had a military background, and drilled it into her head, I guess.” He felt her squeeze his hands to comfort. “She was great… but it was messy from the start. I didn’t listen to my gut, nor Foggy. What really ended it for me was the fact that I felt like I was being interrogated by her; Like she was nitpicking me to find something useful. I don’t know. Then I forgot about her, graduated, got an apartment and then the rest is history.”

“If you didn’t have the best relationship–” She tilted her head, curiosity peaked to the fullest. “Why the feeling about wanting her back?”

“I guess I just wanted Kai to have her mom.” His expression deepens. “I never had a mom growing up, she left when I was a baby, and I never really got the chance to ask my dad about her. Why…” This was so hard to talk about. “Why did she walk out? Was she ever coming back? Or… why did a hardcore Atheist like my father raised to be Catholic like my mother? Why did I do wrong to have both my parents taken from me?”

“Matt–”

“Why did God put the devil inside me? Why must all the bad things come back to me?”

“Don’t.” She takes his hand into hers now. “Don’t put yourself down like this. And you want to know why?” He starts shaking his head, knowing he doesn’t deserve her kind words. “Because despite all these horrible things, you have turned out to be a good man.” He squeezes his eyes shut as she holds him close. “You graduated at the top of your class. You made a friend that thinks of you as his own brother. You got your apartment all on your own. You were given a healthy, beautiful, and happy daughter.”

His mind starts pulling all those memories to the front stage for him to view. The graduation where Foggy’s brother, Theo, nearly plowed them over for a giant hug; Mrs. Nelson’s never ending photos before insisting Matt and her son to come over for a big feast. - Finally having enough money to afford his own apartment. - Foggy and him hitting it off immediately. - When the nurse placed his daughter in his arms for the first time, it became love at first touch. - Despite all the darkness that surrounded his heart, God had given him a few good things over the years.

He feels Karen’s thumb stroking the back of his hand as she continues her words,

“You started your own business, you’ve helped people in and out of your suit and tie; You’ve helped me and you gave me a job.” She cracks a soft smile, enough for him to hear. “And deep down, I think even if you didn’t have these abilities, I still firmly believe the day you met me, that you still would have believed me. I still believed that you would have known wrong from right even without your abilities. ‘Cause you–” Touches his chest. “Are a good man, Matthew. Someone I’m proud to have in my life. And I’m sure everyone around you would agree.”

That’s…

That’s all he needed/wanted to hear.

He envelopes her free hand into his and gives her a quick kiss on her forehead. “Thank you.” He mutters, resting his head on her shoulder. “For putting up with my… everything.”

She hums quietly. “Anytime, Matt.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

As soon as they set foot inside the building the very next morning, Matt perked up when he tuned in on something.

“Something’s wrong, Dad?” Kaila asked, trailing a few steps behind him carefully.

“Sounds like there’s someone else other than Foggy is in our office.”

“Someone… bad?”

“I don’t know. Let’s stay on our toes.” The three of them entered, Matt saying something first. “Early start today, Fog?”

Foggy looked so relieved they’re finally here. “Guys.” He begins, a bit of an annoyance in his undertone for the person sitting across from him. “Uh, this is Christopher Roth. He’s the public defender assigned to the Castle case.”

“The public defender? For Castle?” Karen asked, surprised to find out someone was already placed under Frank’s aid.

The man, Roth, seemed happy that she was here, eager for her to take a seat (which they all did). “I just dropped by to get Miss Page’s signature on this statement.” He shows off the paper to her. “So, um, Miss Page, I drew this up based on your official statement to the police, about the Metro-General shooting.”

Karen pulls it closer to her to read, while Matt was about to say something pushy; But Foggy cuts right in, poking around the man whose presence didn’t sit right with him either. “You new to New York, Mr. Roth?”

Roth blinks, confused, but answers. “Born and raised.”

“Is this your first case?”

“Second. I won my first. Domestic violence. I believe in protecting women.” His last statement seemed to be directed at the blonde who flashed him a strange look.

“That’s nice. Appreciate it.” Kaila said from the far end of the table, observing.

“Um… who is–”

“Eh, don’t mind her. She’s an intern.” Foggy plays it off, which seemed to confuse him even more.

Karen looks up briefly to say, “Uh, this says that Castle pursued me down the stairwell, but I went down, he went up.”

“Um, okay, that’s a change I can make.” Roth replies, jotting that down on his notepad.

“Also, I didn’t escape on foot, I had a car. I know I told the NYPD about that.”

“Um, car–”

“I was also not Castle’s only target. That’s just flat out wrong.” She says, stunned by what she’s reading. “What about Grotto? Where– Where did you get my statement?

“Grotto?”

“Grote. Our client, Elliot Grote.” Matt said, like it was obvious.

“Oh, yes, him.” Roth nods. “Yeah, he’s on the victim list. Ballistics matched him to one of the many guns connected to Frank Castle. Look, I just need a signature. Once we’ve got that, we’re all done.”

“Well, with this meeting.” Karen says, as she reads the last of it.

“With this case.”

She paused, along with everyone else in the room. Her eyes meet him again and asks, “How so?”

“Castle’s awake.” He explains, nonchalantly. “Soon, he’ll plead guilty, then it’s open and shut.”

“Open and shut is good. New York will sleep better knowing Frank Castle’s behind bars.” Foggy agrees, with a slow nod.

“Sleep even better when he’s dead.” Those words rolled off his tongue that made everyone grow quiet yet again.

“Uh, dead?” Matt asks, puzzled; Eyebrow raised as he sits up straighter.

“Well, lethal injection, probably, although the electric chair is a possibility.”

“New York doesn’t have the death penalty.”

“Yeah, but Delaware does. Some Dogs of Hell were murdered out there along Interstate 95.” Roth points out, suddenly making the whole room feel uncomfortable. “DA Reyes just has to link the killings to Castle, and then they’ll be well within their rights to extradite him. And you know–”

“Are you and DA Reyes friends?” Foggy cuts him off, the annoyance stirring up again. That seemed to make the other party unsettled from the way he shifted in his chair.

“I met her once.”

“When?”

“Yesterday, when the judge assigned me to the case.”

“Of course you did.” Foggy whispers under his breath, while shaking his head.

“Well, look…” Roth looks between them. “She’s the one who took down the Punisher. She’s not going through all these paces so that she can not put the final nail in his coffin.”

Matt scoffs. “Literally.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Roth, I can’t sign this yet.” Karen says, while shoving the paper back his way.

“Um, A-Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“We’ll be in touch, Mr. Roth.” Matt says, another way of telling him to get the F out of here now. He does, gathering his things in a sloppy manner and scurry out of there without another word.

“Well, he seems great.” Kaila says, breaking the ice.

Karen stands up from the chair, hands on her stern hips. “Statement he wanted me to sign? Complete work of fiction. Probably handcrafted by Reyes.”

“Totally not disagreeing.” Foggy says, hands up in defense. “We could just write an anonymous letter, and maybe the judge will assign a new public defender.”

Matt shrugs at the idea. “Yeah, or we could help Castle ourselves… like we talked about.”

His eyes widened a smidge. “No way. You guys are still on board with this?”

“Yeah.” The blind man says, Karen nodding with him.

“I was hoping you weren’t…” He mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was hoping you all wake up with a better mind set.”

“We don’t have to ‘full on’ defend him. We could just negotiate a plea deal. Without extradition, or an electric chair. And then, Castle goes away, Reyes gets her ticker-tape parade, everyone wins.”

“Everyone except us.” Foggy frowns, finally standing up. “Look, I know he helped you save Kai’s life, but do you see the front door?” He points at it. “The ‘open’ sign is up, but nobody’s walking in. If we keep messing with Reyes, we’ll be shuttered by the end of the month.”

“Look, I know we’re on a thin thread here, but come on. If we stand up to her, we could actually end her incessant bullying.”

“And possibly save this guy’s life.” Karen chimes in.

“A murderer who shot at you.” Foggy states the obvious.

“For reasons that I don’t fully understand yet.”

“Roth said Castle’s gonna plead guilty. So we get in there, we talk to him–” Matt starts.

“Ask him some questions about what really happened to his family, why Reyes wants him dead.” Karen continues.

And the brunette finishes with, “Build a fair plea, and show the DA our justice system still has a backbone.”

Foggy takes a second to rub his hands on his face and through his hair that he swears it’s going to turn gray between these two. “This is a bad idea, guys.” He scoffs. “I can’t believe we’re even discussing this! He chained you to a roof, Matt. You, of all people, should know he’s a psychopath.”

Matt frowns, but not disagreeing. “Okay, his methodology is clearly wrong, but in his own kind of way, he was trying to do something noble. I mean, you, Karen and even Kai have been to his house, you have seen his life before. There’s a reason he’s doing all this.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” He asks, then looks between his two friends. “Even you, Karen.”

“Yeah, we understand, Foggy. We really do. But he wanted justice. Like us.” She replies, making him take a deep breath.

“So we should risk everything? Our firm, our reputation, and– and let’s be honest, our safety? We should put it all on the line to help him?”

Matt shrugs again. “Kinda. Yeah.”

“He’s a person. Like you, Foggy. Like me. Like all of us. And he shouldn’t have to die.” Karen adds, making him throw his head back and sigh.

“Ugh. God, I hate when the two of you tag team me.” He admits, as he gathers his things together. “I guess we’re going to the hospital.”

“Hospital?” Kaila asked, confused.

“We got to interview Frank.” Her father says, also getting his things. “You’re still going to have to come with us. But the police probably won’t let you near his room since you’re a minor.”

The young girl shrugged. “Eh, I can probably hang out in the cafeteria. I don’t mind.”

“It shouldn’t take long. We’ll try to be quick.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After being patted down at the hospital entrance, the trio was run over by camera flashes as reporters nearly bulldozed them over as they stepped out of the elevator. Karen pretends to guide Matt as they follow Foggy up towards the front of the crowd.

“Looks like every outlet in town wants a word with Castle.” She says, getting a little overwhelmed with this many people in one small area.

“Or a report on who does.” Matt adds, continuing their way until they were stopped by a police officer.

“You press?”

“Uh, no, attorneys.”

“IDs?”

They flashed their IDs, before the officer waves for them to follow and leads them further down the hallway.

Foggy slows his steps and comes to stand next to his friends, lowering his voice. “This much spotlight concerns anyone else? I mean, we’re about to step onto a big proscenium stage here.” He throws his hands out dramatically. “And how do I know what proscenium means? Because I did theater in summer camp which is exactly the kind of thing that these reporters will find out if they start digging into me.”

Matt couldn’t help but smirk at his performance. “Come on, jazz hands.”

“What the hell are you three doing here?” Brett’s voice came through, being as ‘cheerful’ as always when interacting with them.

“Brett!” Foggy faces bloomed with a big smile. “You’re wearing a tie, and it’s not a clip-on.”

The cop purses his lips. “This ain’t a good time, Foggy.”

“How’d you get babysitting duty, Sergeant?”

“A Detective Sergeant now.”

“A promotion?” Foggy replies, like he totally did not know about this already.

“Uh, just lucky.” Brett says, shrugging and averting his gaze somewhere else for a second. “Top dogs like the press of a good collar.”

“Yeah, and the cops that get ‘em.” Karen says, smiling. “Congratulations, Detective.”

“Alright you three, enough sugar coating. This area is restricted beyond this point. You can’t be here.”

“What if we have business with Frank Castle?” Matt replies, getting a look.

“Business?” Brett almost laughs. “Guy’s barely conscious.”

“Our firm wants to represent him.”

“Man’s already got a lawyer.”

Foggy scoffs. “Yeah, we met that benchwarmer. Not the freshest fish the city could’ve drummed up, but he’s in the running.”

Matt clears his throat while readjusting his hold on his cane. “Brett, we feel Nelson and Murdock is better equipped to represent Mr. Castle’s best interests. Certainly over that of his current legal counsel.”

Brett holds his tongue. “Look, I don’t ask questions, but every firm in the city has passed this one by. Must be a reason. You’re chasing the wrong ambulance. DA wants the death penalty.”

Karen nods, before saying, “The public defender is all but ready to roll over and help.”

“They’ll even extradite Castle out of New York if that’s what it takes.” Matt adds.

“So, we thought he’d respond to our strategy of, you know, keeping him alive.” Foggy finishes.

Brett looks between the three, realizing that they are the definition of ‘Dog with a Bone’. “Come over here.” He sighs, and ushers them over to an empty corner to be more quiet. “Look, none of this is my problem. But all I know is, you go up against this DA and lose? The only funeral to attend will be your firm’s. You’re talkin’ career suicide.”

“If we walk away we’re letting him die.” Matt retaliates, making the other man sigh.

“Bags and briefcases get searched.” He says, pointing to an empty table with a few cops around. “Do not give Castle anything. Do not take anything from him. Arms up.”

The brunette raises an eyebrow above his glasses. “They already searched us when we came in downstairs.”

“Yeah? And we’re gonna do it again.” Brett quickly pats them down. “Everything’s been removed from inside the room. He’s tied down, but keep your distance and mind the tape. Do not step past it or I get to make my dream come true and arrest you.”

“Understood, Captain.” Foggy says, giving a quick salute.

“Let them check your stuff before going in. Except, Matt–” He stops the man from walking away with the other. “I need to talk to you for a quick second.”

“Okay. Um–” Matt looks at his friends. “I’ll be right there.” They leave, and Matt immediately picks up how nervous Brett suddenly was.

“I’m actually kind of glad you’re here, I was going to come see you before I got roped up into this.”

“What is it?”

“He’s dead.” The words slipped from Brett’s mouth that made Matt almost shutter.

“What?”

“The man who took Kaila. He’s dead.”

“Dead?” Did he hear that right? “H-How? Are you saying ‘brain dead’, like from his coma?”

“No. Dead, dead.” Brett frowns, almost like it was his fault the man had passed. “When I got wind that he was conscious I sent some guys out to see how conscious, to see if he could actually talk well enough to give us some info on why he took your kid. But when they arrived, he was dead.”

Matt’s heart skipped a beat, and his stomach twisted for an unexplained reason. “Natural causes?”

“I don’t know. They’re investigating it right now. But with this whole Castle thing now, the police department’s mostly focusing on that. Unless this thing starts slowing down, I’m just giving you the heads up that there’s a possibility that this might grow cold. I’m sorry.”

Well that’s not something he wanted to hear today. But, he does appreciate his honesty. “It’s not your fault. Although I want answers, I’m just glad she’s home.”

“Yeah. But–” Brett pats his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll find answers. You’re pretty good at that.”

Matt tilts his head, confused. “Excuse me?”

“Nevermind. Enjoy your talk with Castle.”

And he left him with more questions than answers yet again.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Oh, my God.” Karen said upon seeing the man again. I mean, he was pretty bruised when she saw him on the rooftop with Matt, but… Jesus. This way, way worse.

“Uh, the tape.” Foggy said, stopping the three of them from crossing.

“Frank Castle?” The sweetness in her voice finally reached his ears and made him open his half swollen eyes; His hardened gaze falling just a smidge.

“Ah. It’s you.” He croaked, his voice hoarse. “Nice to see you again, Red.”

“Nice to see you again, too.” Matt admits, and his lips curled upwards slightly. “Allow me to introduce myself properly this time. My name is Matthew Murdock. These are my associates, Franklin Nelson and Karen Page.”

Frank chuckled quietly. “Yeah. I know who you are. You protect shitbags… mostly.”

“We came here today to make you an offer.”

“An offer?” Another laugh. “You feel like you owe me, Red?”

“Well, you did help bring my daughter home. But even if you didn’t, we still would like to help you. We don’t need money, we’re not interested in fame or free advertising. Weren’t even assigned to your case. We don’t have to be here.”

“Ah.” He nods and closes his eyes again. “Then go.”

Matt frowns, worriedly at how defeated he sounds. “Look, Frank. Take a quick look around, and you’ll notice we’re the only ones who want to be here and help you. As you may well know, your list of enemies extends well beyond the gangs you’ve killed. You’re very good at making powerful enemies. And the day you were admitted to Metro-General for the round you took to the head, a do-not-resuscitate order was placed on you.”

“And a shoot-to-kill order, just a few days ago.” Foggy points out

“We know, because we heard it be given.” Karen says, frowning.

“These orders were issued by the District Attorney. And the fact that she’s had it in for us ever since we started asking questions tells us we’re on the right track.” Matt continues, jaw tightening. “Someone in the DA’s office wants you dead, Frank and we’d like to know why. You let us take your case, we can soften your sentence, and give you a shot. Maybe even find out who’s responsible for what happened to you. We’re talking about your life. We can help you keep what’s left of it.”

“Yeah.” Frank scoffs, rolling his eyes. “What’s left. You know what’s left of me, Red. Fucking nothing.”

“But don’t you want answers?” Karen pushes in.

“Karen–” Foggy begins, but she keeps going.

“We want answers too, but none of us will get them if you’re dead.”

“Eh… death’s fine.” Frank mutters. “I could use the sleep.”

“But what about your family? Matt told us you spoke about your family briefly with him. I mean, isn’t this why you started all this? To find out what happened to them?”

“Listen, Blondie–”

“Mr. Castle, we’ve been to your house.”

He froze. “What?”

“Karen–” Foggy warned, just before they all jumped at the sound of someone pounding their fist into the door.

“Who’s in there?” They asked, as a brief, incoherent explanation was passed to her. “What?!” They knocked again. “Open the door! Open–”

Karen grits her teeth and turns up the heat. “Someone is lying about what happened to your family, Mr. Castle. Don’t you want answers?”

But before Frank could reply, DA Reyes came bursting into the room

“You three, out!!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The three of them were ushered out into the hallway, trying their best to ignore the screaming woman until she was right in front of their faces.

“How can we help you, Ms. Reyes?” Matt asked, with a bit of bite.

“Get your things and go.” She demands, as they all shrugged.

“Uh, we have a little bit of business here left.”

“Frank Castle already has counsel. So, unless you’ve asked the public defender for permission to speak to his client, you are in violation of New York legal ethics.”

“We spoke to the PD this morning. To be honest, he doesn’t seem all that prepared to tackle this case. Although, he did mention the conversation that you had with him yesterday.”

She scoffs. “Matt Murdock, is it?”

“Yeah–” He flashes a shit-eating grin. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“You have a reputation of being a smart man, Mr. Murdock. And since your colleagues seem unable to grasp the hornets’ nest they keep kicking, let me direct this at you.” She puts her hands on her hips. “Leave this ward, leave this man, leave this entire case behind before you wake up six feet under the ash that was your reputation and promising legal career.”

“We have a right to a private conversation with a prospective client.”

“Not if there’s a conflict of interest.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And what conflict is that?”

“Elliot Grote.” She says, looking between the three. “You can’t represent Castle when one of his victims was your former client.”

“Alleged victims.” Foggy corrects, as Reyes gives him a glare.

“All the same.”

“Representing Grotto might have complicated matters, but then again, all evidence of our work with him and our deal with you seems to have disappeared from public record.” Matt points out, as all the color in her face suddenly drained (And his colleagues smile). “It’s almost as if someone didn’t want it known that you violated a wit-pro contract, jeopardized the safety of said witness, and then ordered a shoot-to-kill on Castle.”

“But I guess Ms. Reyes could just confess to that when she files this conflict of interest complaint. We have our case files to back up our story.” Foggy finishes, with a sassy undertone. “How’s your side looking?”

“The fact of the matter is, Ms. Reyes, the only person who shouldn’t be here right now is you.” Matt continues, with a ghost of a smile. “Seeing as it’s a breach of ethics for the prosecuting attorney to communicate with the defendant without his assigned legal counsel present. So, if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to resume convincing Mr. Castle that, unlike his current legal counsel, we can actually help him.”

“You already did.” Brett announced as he came into view.

Reyes’ snapped her head in his direction, eyes wide. “What?”

“Castle doesn’t want the public defender. Says Nelson and Murdock are his lawyers now.”

“Thank you, Detective Sergeant. If you’ll excuse us.” Matt says, holding his hand out. “Foggy, do you have my cane?” His friend quickly scrambled to grab it off the table and handed it over. “Thank you.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Finally feel like we have the upper hand against that woman.” Karen said, as they entered an empty room to regroup.

“Yeah, she bluffs well, but she’ll negotiate.” Matt sighs with his hands on his hip. “She doesn’t want this going to trial.”

“Of course.” Foggy scoffs, upset. “She wants it to end quickly, so she can move on to burying us.”

“Just deal with one problem at a time.”

“So where are we supposed to start?” Karen asks, as Matt jogs his brain.

“Let’s have the charges and evidence summary brought in here. We can weed through it and work out what terms we want directly with Frank.”

“It’ll save time.” Foggy says, running a hand through his hair. “Can’t believe this is happening.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The three of them (mostly just Karen and Foggy for obvious reasons), had giant piles of paperwork scattered in front of them. By the time they had read through everything, the sun was already starting to set.

“It’s worse than I thought.” Foggy says, breaking the ice first. “Thirty-seven separate murder charges. What about you, Karen?”

“Uh–” She recounts everything in her head for a second, before saying, “98 lesser, I mean, felony assault, burglary, criminal possession of a weapon, reckless endangerment. Any number of criminal mischief charges.”

“And that’s it?” Matt asked, as he took everything in (Maybe they did bite off more than they could chew).

“Yeah.”

“We’re so fucking screwed.” The Nelson said, as he shook his head.

“You guys ready to go in?”

“No. But considering the arraignment in a couple hours, we don’t have much of a choice.” A sigh. “Time to play twenty questions with a killer.”

After getting checked and patted down again, They made their way back inside with the paperwork, ready to go head-to-head with the lunatic.

“Frank–” Matt begins, as they make their way to the red line again. “Thank you for allowing us to be your attorneys.” Despite the genuine ‘thank you’, his client didn’t say anything. “Uh, Foggy?”

“Right. Um–” Foggy starts reading over his notes. “We’ve reviewed the charges you’re facing. It’s my understanding that you wish to plead guilty to all of them?” Nothing. “Uh, I’m gonna need a verbal confirmation if we’re gonna continue.” Still nothing. He frowns. “Look, you asked us to represent you. In order to do my job–”

“I’m guilty.” Frank croaked, as the wheels started turning in his head.

Foggy looked at his friends who smiled. “Great, uh–”

“I’m not talking to you yet.”

“Excuse me?”

Frank’s eyes traveled to Karen’s and said, “Blondie?”

“Yes?”

“You said you went to my house?”

She swallows. “Y-Yes?”

“When?”

“Um…” Karen looks at the others who honestly, didn’t know what to say. “T-Two… Two days ago.”

Frank hums, thinking. “So that’s when Red and I duked it out with the Irish. And you also mention ‘we’. Which I’m thinking is–” He gestures to Foggy. “Him. But that also was shortly after the whole thing with…” His trailing off caused the lawyers to look at one another, puzzled and worried.

“Um, Frank?” Matt begins, trying to get a good reading off him. “What are you–”

“I want to talk to your kid, Red.” And that’s how you silence a room with a few words. The father’s eyes widened a bit just as the Uncle exploded.

“Um, Absolutely not!” Foggy said, immediately. “My Niece is not–”

“I want to talk to her.” Frank locks his gaze with the blind man. “You know I won’t hurt her, Red.”

Matt kept his cool and simply asked, “Why do you want to talk to my daughter?”

“Because I know out of everyone here, that fucking Reyes hasn’t touched her yet.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“Yes.” Lie. Of course the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen could tell. But oddly enough, it sounded like Frank lied for a reason that only he could pick up.

Foggy sighs after a moment of silence and says, “Listen, Mr. Castle–”

“We’ll have to talk to the leading officer here to see if that’s even possible seeing that she’s still a minor.” Matt explains, as he feels his friends’ look of bewilderment on him. “And if it is allowed, my daughter also has to accept it.”

“Then go ask.” Frank said, resting his eyes again. “I got all the time.”

“Alright. I will.” He starts leading them away, but they manage to get between him and the door.

“Matt, are you crazy?” Karen said, in a whisper. “You’re going to leave your daughter alone with him?”

“I thought you had a soft spot for Frank?”

“I-I do! But… there’s a bit of a difference here between me and your kid.”

“Why are you okay with this?” Foggy asked, disappointed. “If I was you, I’d be freaking out right now.”

“I am.” He gets a look. “I am. Trust me. The only reason I’m even considering this is because of his background. I think…” He stops to think. “Karen, didn’t you mention you took a photo from his house?”

“Uh– y-yeah.” She sighs after realizing she didn’t have her bag. “It’s in my purse.”

“Right. Let’s go check that real quick.” They leave the room and retrieve her purse from the police. Hiding it from an outsider’s view she pulls it out.

“I’m a little confused, Matt. What are we looking at? Or for?”

“If I’m right, then…” He takes a deep breath. “Is his daughter on there?”

“Um, yes.”

“Good. Now, uh, I want you two to get a good look at her.” The two of them spared him another gaze before doing so, it only took a few seconds for him to hear their breaths’ hitch and heart rate spike to confirm what he was thinking. “You see?”

“It makes sense.” Foggy admits in defeat. “Talking to someone who resembles a loved one does make one more comforting.”

“I… I still don’t like it.” Karen replies, saddened. “But I understand. You still okay with this though?”

“If getting him to talk freely involves using my daughter then… I guess we have no choice.” Matt said, still not a hundred percent sold, but this might be their only chance at getting him to speak (Or at least open up to a point of trust). “Hey, Brett?”

“Yeah?” The cop said, turning around at his name.

“I need to run something by you.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Miss Murdock, arms up please.”

Kaila let them pat her down while handing over her crutches and purse, letting all the weight to her good leg like she’s been practicing (PT’s a bitch, but it has been helping).

“Do not give Castle anything. Do not take anything from him. Understood?” The officer explained, as she nodded. “If your leg starts acting up, we’d place a chair inside, but do not go pass the red tape.”

“Got it.” She muttered, and faced the adults. “Is that all the reports?”

“Uh, yeah. It is.” Karen said, still hesitant to hand it over.

Matt frowns, nerves starting to grow more. “Kai, you don’t have to–”

“I’ll do it.” The teenager cuts off as she takes the paperwork.

“Really? You positive?”

“You need answers. You need to build trust. I’ll do it.” Kaila looks at her Dad one last time. “And do not eavesdrop.” He opens his mouth. “Please?”

He sighs quietly. “Alright.” He feels her distrustful stare. “Alright. I cross my heart.”

“Thanks.”

The teenager takes a deep breath before entering on her wobbly feet. Upon entering she saw his dark eyes open, the only part of his body moving with his chest for light breathing. Surprisingly, she wasn’t as scared or uneasy as she thought she would be. Maybe her brain automatically accepted him as soon as he saved her back on the rooftop? Still, she doesn’t sit right away, instead she clings to the back of it, pushing it a bit closer to the red line on the floor. Her brown orbs caught his bruised hand moving and pointed at her.

“Your leg? What happened?” Frank asked, voice still scruffy, but gentle.

“Uh… I uh, got a little lippy with the guy.” She says, smacking her lips. “I, uh, hot-headed is kind of my curse.”

He laughs dryly. “That makes two of us.”

That got her to crack a smile for a split second before asking, “Um, how… how are you feeling?”

His hum sounds a bit on the edge of a growl. “Shitty. You know all they gave me was an ibuprofen?”

“That’s it?” She frowns. “But aren’t you still a patient? Shouldn’t they give you something stronger?”

“Nah. No nurse or doctor wants to come near me.” He scoffs. “I’m not the fuckin’ Hulk, I can’t break out of these cuffs with one tug.”

His words affected her a lot. Criminal or not, you should still help him.

“I heard you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yeah.” He nods, slowly. “My family. What do you know? I know you went into my house.”

“I did.” She frowns, guilty. “I apologize if we overstep. We just thought we should know a bit more about you.”

Frank stays quiet for a moment then says, “You know what they’d be saying about me? About all this? How disappointed they must be?”

Her face morphs into a surprise when she realizes who he’s referring to. “Mr. Castle–”

“Have you heard about the Police report? Complaint number 211974.” He continues, his face twisting into something she couldn’t pinpoint. “‘Victims were stopped at a traffic light northbound on Buellton Ave, when an unidentified male suspect began firing a 9mm handgun at their vehicle. Juvenile male, juvenile female, and adult woman were found dead at the scene. Adult male driver was critically wounded and taken to Metro-General’.”

Vehicle– what? She blinks and shakes her head. “That’s… that’s all bullshit. Right?”

“Yep.” He pops the ‘P’, teeth then gritting in disgust. “That’s the story that fuckin’ DA woman is running with. But you and I, and your family out there, know we were at the carousel that day.”

“How much do you remember?”

“This ain’t about what I remember.”

“But I think it is.” Kaila pushes. “From what my Father and his friends got are a lot of puzzle pieces, but trust me, this moves a lot smoother if you can tell us anything.”

Another pause. “It goes in and out.”

“Yeah?”

“The fact that it fades…” His brows pushed together as he tried to recall the distant memory. “We took our blanket down to our spot. She… my daughter was by the carousel on the lawn. Then I heard her shout. Scream. It was a grown man.”

“Who did you see?”

“I didn’t. But I found out later. The Cartel. Irish. Bikers.”

“Anyone else?”

“I should’ve seen it coming.” He says, almost between a laugh and a cry.

She gives him a worried look and asks, “How could you know?”

“What’d I just say to you?” He locks his dark eyes with hers. “I said that I heard it. I heard it and I didn’t do anything. My job was to keep them safe. I didn’t. I didn’t do it.”

This sounds something like my dad would say. Kaila looks down, trying to figure out what to say to a man who’s lost everything.

“She was never in any danger.” Frank’s voice creeped in and pulled her back.

“What?” Kai asked, confused again.

Frank’s face and voice had softened up again as he explained, “The other night. Blondie was babysitting that shit brick, running around with that Grotto. I just–” He stutters. “I-I only hurt people that deserve it. I wanted you to know that.”

She tilts her head, trying to show slight empathy for the client she never met. “You think he deserved it? Grotto?”

“I do. You know he used to do hits for the Irish, huh?” He frowns. “One time, he shot an old lady because she saw his face.” He notices the girl’s surprised look again. “I guess he– he didn’t tell your Dad and his colleagues that, huh?” She shakes her head (honestly not sure if he did or not). “Yeah. The point is, Blondie was safe, okay? I just wanted you to know that.”

“Guess I’m just supposed to take your word on that?”

“Nothin’ to do with my word, kid. Nothin’ at all.”

“No?”

“No. Look, you got any idea what a scout sniper is? You ever heard of that?” She shakes her head. “No? Okay, well, you’re looking at one. My class in Quantico was class 307. And we had a motto. It was a saying, yeah? It was, ‘One shot, one kill’. The point is, if I wanted her dead, she’d be dead. Got it?”

“I think I got it.” Kaila said, nodding. This is so bizarre.

She takes another deep breath, and continues with the questions. “Why… why am I here? Why did you ask me to come talk to you?”

“I don’t–” He swallows. “I guess I’m worried that the memories are just gonna go away.”

He’s not telling me something. What? She scans him subtly head-to-toe while mustering, “Mr. Castle–”

“Look, you…” Frank looked a little lost as he tried to recall distant memories. “You went to... You were in my house. You…”

She gives him a pitiful look. “You never went back? After your family was…?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Can I just ask you, did you–” He bites his lip for a second. “Were you in the kitchen?”

“Yeah. We came through the back door.”

“The plates, were they... Were they on the table, or did they get into the sink?”

“Um–” She starts replaying over her memories now. “Uh, I think, washed. In the rack.”

“How about in the next room, did you… Did you see that piano that was there?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He says, and finally cracks a meaningful smile. “My son, Frank Junior, he… he used to grab a handful of cookies and take ‘em and hide ‘em in that bench. You know, he’d play soldier. Guard it, protect it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Kaila asked, smiling, too.

“Then he’d fall asleep down there.” He laughs. “We’d find him, me and the wife… he’d be sleeping on a pile of cookie crumbs.”

“Yeah, I, um, when I was younger, I did the same thing.” Her expression grows at the thought. “Except it was those… animal cookies with the frosting, and, um, I’d hide them under a couch cushion.”

“Oh, yeah?” He said, amused.

“Yeah.” Then she laughed. “But I… I never could really ‘hide’ them. My Father always found out. I guess I could blame his abilities on that.”

“Abilities, huh?”

“Yeah.” Her smile faltered a bit. “Uh, when he was a kid he… pushed an elderly person out of the way, took a hit, got chemicals splashed into his eyes, rest is history.” Then she snickers. “And the dumbass thought he could keep his… ‘nightly activities’ from me.”

He hums, expression still the same. “Sounds like something I would do.” He briefly pauses again. “Kaila, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can you come closer?”

“Huh?”

“Can you come closer? Please?”

Her eyes stayed on him briefly before migrating down to the tape on the floor. She knows she shouldn’t, she knows she could be arrested if the cops walked in and saw her crossing. Yet, just by talking to him, just by knowing his past, and despite the massive criminal record he’s painted himself, she knows deep down he would do anything to her if he could.

Holding the paperwork under one of her arms, she uses the free one to help her balance. She circles the hospital bed on a slight wobble, her hand stopping a few inches from his as she meets his eyes once again. Frank studied her face for a long time, enough for his features to soften again, but there was the smallest speck of tears in his dark orbs.

“You look like my daughter. Brown eyes, hair…” He swallows and tries to get the scratchiness out of voice. “How old are you, Kaila?”

“Fifteen.”

“Fifteen.” He whispers, laughing quietly. “Not much older than she was.”

“Is that why you choose to help save me? ‘Cause I look like your daughter?”

“Nah. I mean, I saw your picture in the news, it sparked something in me, but…” He smacks his lips with a small inhale. “You’ll never understand the love a parent has for the child until you have one of your own. I saw that with your Dad when I met him.”

“Is that before or after you shot him?”

Frank snorts, looking away. “Yeah, sorry about that. He was on my ass, you know?”

“Don’t be.” She smirks a bit. “He’s definitely persistent.”

“Aren’t we all? Nah, it was when he came after me the second time. He put up one hell of a fight, and managed to keep me on my toes for a bit. But I got the upper hand. Again.” He inhales again, and says, “Now, I ain’t going to sugarcoat it for you, but I was planning on killing him after I shot up the bar full of cartel members. I knew… if I didn’t, he would just keep coming after me.”

Kaila looks away, not sure how to feel about this as he continues, “But…” She looks up and so does he, sharing eye contact briefly before his shifts to a corner of the room. “We started getting into it, I spewed my reasoning, he spewed his Catholic guilt bullshit, but every time we got somewhere, his phone would ring. Do you have a clue what those were?”

She frowns, and nods. “I can… only imagine.”

“Yeah, well…” He sighs. “I just wanted to get into his head, get him preoccupied with some other shit so I could do my job, so I played those voicemails left by his colleague and threw it in his lap. I never expected the outcome of it.”

Kaila felt her chest get tighter. She still feels guilty about their fight, and wishes they were on better terms when the kidnapping happened. Dad… I can only imagine what that was like for you.

“You see his whole demeanor changed.” Frank says, eyes still trained on the corner. “He shut up so fast. Even with that stupid mask on you could see how haunted he looked. And then you know what he did when the message ended?” His jaw tightens visibly. “He started begging. Begging for me to let him go and find you.” He scoffs quietly, eyes watering over again. “You see… I know that fear.”

He turns his head and locks their gazes together once more. “I know that feeling.” He could see the sorrow in her eyes, all just for him. “When Lisa, my daughter, was about three we went to this market. You know, fresh fruit, handmade blankets, exotic soap, stuff I hated, but my Wife loved it, so I went. We stopped at a booth, I didn’t even realize she let go of my hand, but I blinked and she was gone.”

Frank knows she could see the panic in his orbs, but he couldn’t care now; He’s been unraveling for a while already. What harm could come from more? “We panicked. I was worse than my wife, though. I was hysterical, I was yelling, nearly knocking people over, and I was fearing the worst. Did someone snatch up my girl? Out of everyone here, why my baby? After what felt like years, I finally found her. She snuck off to a booth that had these dolls and she was just sitting there, trying to find one she liked. God…” He lowers his head with a bit of shutter. “I think I might have had a heart attack.”

“I’m so sorry.” Kaila said, truthfully. “I didn’t want you to remember that.”

“Nah, it’s alright.” He sighs again, more quietly this time. “But that’s what I saw in your Father. His whole world was just… crushed by a single voicemail. That’s why I let him go, that’s why I helped him find you, because I didn’t want him to go through what I did. ‘Cause you know, we’re the fathers, nothing should happen to our family. Everything should happen to us, and not them.”

“So that’s why you became the… Punisher. Your whole world fell, and you felt like you had nothing to lose?”

“Yep. I have nothin’ to lose.”

“But don’t you want to live? Or, better question, is killing not giving you peace yet?”

“Nah.” He looks at the corner of the room again. “No peace yet. I don’t know. Maybe I haven’t killed the right person yet. Maybe there is no peace, maybe when I finally kill the right person it’ll feel different. I don’t fuckin’ know. Not like you get it.”

“I do.”

And those words slipped out before they could even register with her brain. And she knows there’s a chance, a very small chance that her dad is actually eavesdropping on their conversation and he could hear this, but she knows she can’t stop now; Those two words couldn’t just be said and done, there has to be a follow up.

She finds herself looking at her feet, feeling the tightening in her chest return as she feels his intense gaze on her. But still, she refuses to look at him right now.

She takes a deep breath, and begins, “Um, Fisk– uh, Wilson Fisk, you’ve probably heard of him, uh, he and my Dad got entangled with each other. Being Daredevil helped bring Fisk down a few pegs, but Nelson & Murdock they stepped in did the big final attack. They had enough evidence to put him behind bars, but…”

She needs to stop, stop before she spills too much; But Jayden’s voice nagged her in the background, telling her that it’ll help the pain to talk about her troubles instead of bottling them up. She agrees wholeheartedly. She just didn’t think this was going to the first person she talked to.

Kaila shifts her weight, continuing, “B-Before that, they were doing some digging, my Dad and I got into a bit of an argument, and I wanted some space so I went to Karen’s, uh–” She gestures to the door behind her. “Blondie’s. Before I got there I, uh, one of uh, Fisk’s right hand man snagged me. Apparently, he was going to grab Karen after she dug up evidence about Fisk’s mother, but I just happened to arrive first so…”

She felt her stomach now coil, nausea was coming up as the memory of Wesley slowly was creeping in. “He… was trying to blackmail me into changing the minds of everyone around me, to, uh, tell everyone and make them believe that Fisk was a good man. I refused. But then he told me I didn’t, he killed everyone I love, and make me watch… and then it would be my turn.”

Is she crying yet? Has the tears started flowing down without her noticing yet? “Before I could answer, the drug had worn off, and I just grabbed the gun on the table. I didn’t even know if it was loaded or not, but I needed leverage, you know? I told him I was going to leave, and he was going to let me, and I was going to keep this quiet for the sake of my family’s safety. I was almost free, but he just lunged at me.”

Sometimes she could still feel his hands around her throat as he threatened to throw her corpse into the Hudson (It makes her forget how to breathe sometimes). “We wrestled around, soon the gun was being passed back and forth, and…” She felt that lump in her throat now, the one she felt after she did it. “I-I didn’t mean to. It just happened. I…” Now it was her turn to laugh quietly. “I know it’s self defense but I… I still killed someone. You know?”

God, now she feels like she needs a shower all over again. A hot, burning one like she took when she arrived at Karen’s. She wants to burn his touch off, she wants to burn her sins away. She could feel her eyes stinging now, not really sure how long she stayed quiet until he started speaking again.

“Sweetheart.” His voice broke through, causing her to look his way. To her surprise there was no disgust on his face, only sadness and a tiny, tiny bit of anger that if you blink you would miss. “H-How… how’d you feel? After you did it?”

Kaila sniffles. “Um, sc-scared. I was scared, because… I knew if Fisk found out what I did to Wesley, to his friend, his genuine friend, I don’t know what he would have done… to me or my family. And…” She bites her lip. “Oh, god. If my Dad knew, I… I…”

“You mean…” Frank tries to find the right words. “No one knows?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “Well… K-Karen does, but I… I kind of have her sworn to secrecy right now. I just…” Another sniffle. “I just can’t let my Dad know…”

“Why not?” He asks, a little bit of a growl in his tone, but it wasn’t towards her; Just the situation. “If my daughter came up to me and told me she was kidnapped by a dangerous man, you bet your ass I would be hunting that motherfucker down. I’d be storming that building that Fisk was in and I wouldn’t stop until the job was done–”

“That’s exactly why I can’t tell him.” Kaila replies, with a bit of snappiness. She watches him deflate under her words and she carefully explains, “I’m selfish. I’m really selfish. ‘Cause I know if I told him the truth, a few things could happen. He could kill Fisk and get caught, and put away, and that means I lost my Dad to the prison system. Or, he could kill him and never get caught, but I have to live with that guilt that I killed another man, bad or not. So would my Dad. Or…” She feels the tears rolling down her cheeks. “My Dad ends up dead trying.”

She could feel he was looking at her with the same expression from earlier again, but refuses to look. “So, you see? I don’t want to lose my Dad. Physically or mentally. I don’t want to lose the one I have. I don’t want to lose him over something I did. So… you see? I’m selfish. I’m really fucking selfish.”

There was another pause, only this time she pulled herself out of it; Wiping her tears as she apologized for being a debbie-downer (So much for helping him through his trauma).

Way to go, Murdock. You fucked this up. She continues to beat herself up, wondering if she should just turn around and ditch. But then… she felt him touch her hand. Her head snapped back his way, and sure enough that expression was back on his face.

“Don’t cry.” He croaked, and even though his voice was rough sounding, she could hear the consideration that went into those two words. “I don’t like it when my kids cry. I don’t like it when any kids cry.”

“S-Sorry…” Kaila says, brushing her eyes again as a few tears got loose.

“Don’t be. Never apologize for that.” He replies, and squeezes her hand gently. His eyes stayed on her face for a few seconds more before trailing to the paperwork she had. “I, uh, see that they gave you questions to ask me.”

“Oh.” She nods, almost forgetting what she was actually here for. “I guess I probably should start on those.”

“Yeah?” A little warm smile creeps onto his busted lips. “If you wanna ask your questions, you can go ahead. Whatever’s on the paper, and whatever personal ones you want to ask. I’m all ears, sweetheart.”

And without more being said there…

Kaila sits on the bed, and slowly starts from the beginning.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It was really, really hard for Matt not to eavesdrop. He wants to. He really, really fucking wants to, but he needs to be better by respecting certain bountries; Especially his daughter’s. But he’s still going to be a worrier. Now, he knew Frank wouldn’t do anything even if he wasn’t strapped to the bed, and that was where the bit of trust was. Well… it’s more of a respect for the man. However, even with that respect it still wasn’t enough to keep the jitters away.

He was standing out in the hallway with Karen and Foggy, his right foot pattering like a rabbit’s foot, his fingers twitching at his side. It felt like every few minutes his hand would move to his left wrist, his thumb pad running across the braille clock to tell him the time.

Two hours. My daughter’s been in there for nearly two hours. It was making him nervous now. I mean, when it hit the hour mark it was already making him nervous, but two?! It’s literally taking all of his strength not to barge in there. So he tries to focus on something else… like Foggy’s sharp inhales while he leans against the wall, or Karen small pivots on her heels, or the sounds of reporters getting escorted out, or the beeping of a police’s walkie, or–

“I can’t take this anymore.” Matt finally says, as his friend’s look his way.

“Matt.” Foggy begins, sliding his back up the wall to stand. “You promise not to eavesdrop.”

“I’m not going to.” He shakes his head. “I gotta get inside.”

“Matt– wait.”

“You can’t go in yet.” Karen says, stopping him with her arm. “Look, I know it’s been a long time–”

“Exactly.” The blind man says, getting even more agitated. “Two hours. Two hours, Karen. Why is she in there that long? I mean, I know we gave her a lot of questions to ask, but why–”

Suddenly the door to his room opened, and the teenager came wandering out with the stack of paper and her own notes. The trio took a quick glance at each other before surrounding her with questions.

“What happened?/You okay?/What took so long?”

Matt’s nose picks up the salt on her skin, the dryness in her eyes and frowns. “Kai? What happened?” He asks, worriedly.

She nods slowly, trying to find her words. “I’m okay.” Truth. “Really. I just… we shared a lot… personally, so…” Truth. She cracks a small smile while holding up the notes. “I got a lot of information back.” She hands it to Karen, who quickly reads it over. “Hope that helps.”

“Kaila, this is… amazing.” The blonde says, as she tilts the pages towards Foggy for him to read. “It wasn’t too uncomfortable?”

“It was at the beginning, but–” She shrugs. “Despite the certain level of unhinge-ness, he’s actually a really nice guy. He’s definitely someone that loved his family with all his heart.”

“That’s good to hear.” Matt said, finally letting go of the breath he was holding. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Kaila hums. “You worry too much.”

“I worry not enough.” He pulls her in for a side hug which she immediately melted into.

“So, you gave him our opinions on how the case should go?” Foggy asks, looking away from the notes to the teen. “How is he pleading? Is it still the same?”

Kaila takes a deep breath and says, “Guilty.” Her response made everyone happy and congratulated her. Her smile grows at the compliments. “So, when’s the hearing?”

“It’s not even mid-day yet, so…” He looks over his watch. “We could get this started?” His friends nod their heads as he begins flagging the detective down. “Hey, Brett! Can I have a minute?”

“I’m not even appropriately dressed for court.” Kaila mumbles, looking down at herself.

“Well, if we have time, I can swing by my place. I think there’s a dress you can fit into.” Karen replies, after fast thinking. “It’s a dark green color if that works.”

“Yeah, I’ll take anything that’s not a hoodie and ripped jeans right now.”

“That’s very nice of you, Karen.” Matt said, showing his pearly whites.

“You know me.” She chuckles. “I try.”

“Guys–” Foggy says, getting their attention. He gives them a thumbs up. “We’re good. In a few hours everything should be A-Okay.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It was definitely NOT A-Okay.

You could hear a pin drop all of a sudden in the courtroom. Behind the defendant’s bench, Kaila stared with her big brown eyes as her father’s client repeated the words he was NOT supposed to be saying. Pinch me, I’m dreaming. Pinch me, I’m dreaming. Pinch me–

“I plead not guilty.” Frank says once more, as everyone starts muttering in the room with disbelief. “You hear that, witch?!” His eyes blow wide with rage. “I’m gonna watch you burn right along with me. You hear me?!”

The judge’s gavel hits down on his desk immediately. “Counselor, please control your client.”

“Do you hear me?!”

“Frank…” Kaila whispers, as her father gets up to his feet with an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry, Your Honor.” Matt says, bowing his head in shame as Frank came down off his rage tangent.

The judge narrows her eyes, looking between the room as she says, “The defendant has entered a plea of not guilty. Due to the nature and severity of the crimes he is accused of, bail is denied. A court date will be set upon consultation with the DA’s office. We are adjourned.”

The gavel hits again, and everyone in the room starts leaving; While officers in groups of two came over a re-shackled Frank before taking him away.

“I thought you said he was fine?” Foggy said, turning around to his Niece.

“H-He was.” Kaila said, still in shock. “He promised me he was going to plead guilty.”

“Then what the fuck changed his mind?”

“M-Maybe he just wants the truth. About Grotto, about his family, about the– the cover-up. I mean, if we go to trial, then it all comes out, right?”

“There’s no ‘if’. This is happening. Trial of the century. Everything’s about to change.” He grunts. “Fuck.”

As Karen tries to calm Foggy down, Matt had come over to sit next to his kid. He could practically feel the guilt pooling off of her.

“It’s not your fault.” He says, as she shakes her head.

“How did this happen?” She whispers. “W-We had such a good talk, Dad.”

“Kaila–”

“Do you think Reyes got to him during the transportation? Or somebody else?”

He frowns. “I don’t know, but… he seemed a lot more angry today. Nervous, too.”

“That’s an odd combo.”

“Yeah.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” He heard her sigh again, muttering an ‘ok’. His heart aches at how defeated she sounds. “Come here.” He pulls her in for a much needed hug. “Everything will be okay.”

“Dad…” She says, relaxing in his embrace like she did back at the hospital.

“Everything will be okay, baby girl. We’re going to make this work.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The court date was a few days later. The media had exploded. The good and the bad had circled around the law firm. The trio were cooped up for hours in the office, trying to figure out how to get Frank a better sentence that wouldn’t lead to death. All while this was going on, Kaila had moved on to the last few steps in PT. Now on this fateful day, dressed in a nice blouse and skirt, she practices with her new walking stick out in the halls of the courthouse, waiting to be allowed inside.

She curses under her breath when she slipped a little, muttering, “Easy, my ass. This is a lot harder than the crutches.” She was so focused on the stupid cane she didn’t even notice someone standing behind her snickering.

“You cosplaying as an old man now?” Jayden says, getting her to turn around.

Her face lights up at the surprise. “More like cosplaying my father. Wait. What are you doing here?” She asks, taking note of him dressing elegantly…? The freshly pressed suit and tie was not something she ever expected to see him in. Even his messy curls had been fixed nicely. He looks so…

“You told me you were going to be stuck all day in the courtroom. Thought you might want some company.” He explains, surprising her more.

“You… you sure?” Kaila asks, with a small frown. “These things tend to vary in time, you know? Could be five minutes, could be twelve hours.”

He waves the statement off. “Yeah, well, I don’t mind. And besides, I could learn a few things.”

She laughs. “That’s… that’s very true.” Her smile returns fastly. “This is quite the play date then.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling this now?” Jayden asks, raising a playful eyebrow.

“I think so.” She teases, copying his expression.

“Hey, Kai!” Her father’s voice broke through, her attention turning on him and the two others walking over to where she was. “It’s about to start. You sure you want to stay in there?”

“Like I said, Dad, I’ll be fine. I want to see how this goes.” Kaila says, shrugging. It takes a second for her to realize that they’re all looking at the person next to her and waiting for an explanation. “Oh, uh, guys, this is Jayden. My friend from work.”

“Hi, everyone.” The boy says, with a wave.

“Oh!” Foggy perks up upon recognizing the name. “I talked to you on the phone the other night.” He shakes the teen’s hand gracefully. “Foggy Nelson. It’s finally nice to put a voice to a face.”

“Pleasure to do the same, Mr. Nelson.”

“I’m Karen. I work with them.” The blonde says, with a smile, shaking his hand as well.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Karen.”

“And this is my Dad, Matthew, or Matt.” Kaila replies, gesturing to him.

“Hi, Mr. Murdock. It’s nice to meet you.” Jayden says, holding his hand out as Matt subtly picks up on something. It was only interrupted when Foggy whispers,

“His hand’s out.”

“Ah. Nice to meet you.” Matt plays it off like he always does, taking it in his palm and giving it a shake. Upon the physical contact and release, the feeling of something crossed his mind again immediately. It must have shown in his face, because–

“You okay, Mr. Murdock?” Jayden asks, worrying that he did something wrong.

“Uh, n-no.” He shakes his head. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind today. Um–” He moves his hand around in the air, trying to pull the right words out. “You’ve got quite the grip.”

“Oh, uh–” The teen chuckles. “Yeah. I’ve been told that. Um, so…” He looks between the four of them curiously. “What’s this case y’all defending?”

“Oh, it’s a doozy.” Foggy said, mentally cursing.

“Um, you’ve heard of Frank Castle on the news?” Kaila asks, making his olive eyes go wide.

“...Holy shit.”

“Yep.” She nods. “Perfect reaction. You’re in for a treat. I’ll fill you in on some stuff while we wait. Uh–” She gives the adults reassuring expressions. “Break a leg. You’ll do great.”

“Thanks, Kai.” Karen says, putting up a happy front as well. “That’s all we can do.”

The teenagers break away, Kaila even briefly reaching up to squeeze her Dad’s shoulder for more reassurance. Foggy and Karen both took deep breaths as they started the list of mental preparation from the top again.

“Alright, alright, alright.” Foggy whispers, and picks up his briefcase off the floor. “Let’s do this.” He waves for Karen to start the trek. “Lady’s first. Matt, let’s–” He starts reaching for his best friend’s arm, only stopping when he notices how in thought he looked. “Matt? Matt?” He starts reaching again. “Hey–”

Matt turns his head towards Foggy upon feeling the tap on his arm. “Huh?”

“You alright? What’s going through your head? Nerves?”

“No. Not nerves. It’s… It’s Kai’s friend.”

“Jayden? What about him?” Foggy starts to get worried. “Is he bad news?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s…” How would Matt explain it? “His… hand shake, t-the grip… the cadence of his voice, it’s…” Where was going with this? “He smells… familiar.” Maybe he’s just being paranoid. “But I can’t figure out why.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The first day in court went better than they expected. The opening statement went flawlessly (Unless you count Foggy nervously sweating throughout his half). They even got to present their witness(es) list, and even DA Reyes got herself into a bit of a pickle so… Yay! Jazz hands.

Now since that was wrapped up, the adults had headed over to the office to compare notes and write down their next few statements, while the two teens went over to the next block for a bit to eat.

“So… who’s this Tepper guy again?” Jayden asks, as they wait for their names to be called from the foot counter. He was trying to wrap his head around everything he’s seen today as the Young Murdock was kind enough to explain the thing’s he didn’t understand.

“Tepper is apparently the guy who did the autopsy for Mr. Castle’s family. Which Castle claims is wrong, so my Dad and them will bring that up, and hopefully bring Tepper to stand. You know, to try to get him to crack.” She replies, as he nods his head.

“Gotcha.”

“Then, they’re also going to get him an even better sentence by presenting to the court that he suffers from PTSD due to his time at war. Which was retriggered after his family was killed.”

“Gotcha. Man…” He shifts his weight around with a worried look. “They definitely got their hands full with this one.”

“Definitely.” She agrees, shortly afterwards their names were called. They soon slid into a booth with their trays.

“So, on a different note, I meant to ask.” Jayden starts, after getting comforting. “That woman who came to your house the other night. Who was she?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Kaila replies, brushing the thought of her off. “She’s an old, crazy flame of my Dad. Who apparently was still hung up on him so… yeah.” She starts to take a sip of her drink, but stops to add, “But don’t worry, she didn’t do anything to me. She just wanted to ask questions.”

“But still…” He makes a face. “Yikes.”

“Yeah.” She shrugs. “I, uh, appreciate you calling my Uncle though. He called my Dad, and they came over quickly.”

“No problem. I think anyone with the right mind would have done that.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“So, he’s your Uncle?” Jayden asks, and starts eating.

Kaila finishes chewing to say, “Not biologically. My Dad met him in college, roommates, and uh, they just hit it off. My Dad was immediately adopted into Foggy’s family so… yeah.”

“I take it he has a big family?”

“Oh, yeah.” She grins at the memories of them. “There’s my Uncle Theo, his wife, Sissy, and their three kids; And then there’s Grandpa Edward, and Grandma Anne.”

He quirked an eyebrow up at her enthusiasm. “Are they lawyers, too?”

“No.” Her grin grows. “They’re actually butchers.”

“That’s… a twist I wasn’t expecting.”

She snorts. “No one does. But hey, there’s perks of having your own butcher shop. They have the best maple ham around Christmas time.”

“I might have to stop by for a bite.” He says, as she shakes her head ‘Yes’. They fall into a comfortable silence for a sec, before he breaks the ice by saying, “This is a nice play date.”

“Yeah. It is." Another pause. "Can I ask you something now?”

“Go for it.”

“When you came to my house, before we were interrupted, what were you trying to tell me? You mentioned your name.”

“To be honest, Kai…” He shrugs. “Don’t even worry about it.”

She quirks up her eyebrow. “No?”

“No.” He pauses eating to say, “But my name is Jayden, I don’t want you to think it’s not. What I meant is my last name. I just… it doesn’t mean anything anymore if I tell you. So…” Another shrug. “I-I mean… my dad’s not around anymore, so… there’s no weight for it at this moment, you know?”

Kaila notices how uncomfortable he’s getting, to the point where he’s nitpicking at his food. And he looks way paler than a few seconds ago.

She frowns, worriedly. “Your dad really messed you up, huh?” He nods slowly, looking like a kicked puppy. “You know I wouldn’t care about your past, you know? God knows mine is a little murky, I mentioned that to you, right?”

“Yeah. You did.” He says, meeting her gaze as she tries to find the right words.

“Do you… do you think if we’re closer you would open up more?”

“Probably. Yeah.”

She stops and thinks again, the lightbulb slowly turning on. “Hold your hands up.”

He blinks. “What?”

“Just humor me.” He does, and so does she. “Okay, obviously there’s a reason we met, maybe fate put us together to just be friends, or maybe we meant to help one another, but whatever the reason is, we should try to forge a bond. You know, hanging out outside of a… courthouse.”

“What?” He smirks. “Our playdate at the courthouse wasn’t what friends do?”

She copies her expression. “Definitely not what I had in mind.”

“So, what should we do instead?”

She hums, thinking. “We could go to the movies? Do you like Horror?”

He scoffs playfully. “Who doesn’t?”

That got her to laugh before asking, “If you’re free next week, we should go see something. Let’s get to know each other… little-by-little.”

Jayden smiles. “Little-by-little. I like that. But, uh–” He waves his hands. “What’s this about?”

Now it was her turn to smirk. “Uh, keep your left one up, and use your right to cross your heart.” She demonstrates this. “That way, we can’t break the promise.”

“And if it’s broken?”

“We have permission to knock some sense into one another.” She moves her hands around in a ‘so-so’ way. “That can be metaphorical or literal. Your choice.”

He laughs. “Uh, definitely don’t want to be literal if I don’t have to. Your huge ass family might butcher me for their shop.”

She snorts. “No promise there.”

“Okay.” He nods, and crosses his heart. His soft features grew along with hers. “It’s a promise.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“So, everything’s okay? You guys got all your notes intact?” Kaila asked, while her and her dad walked home in the moonlight; The hot Summer air grew cooler as soon as the sun disappeared, leaving them to stay close for a little warmth.

“Yeah. Everything’s okay. We should be fine in the morning.” Matt replies, his mind had been elsewhere ever since they arrived at the courthouse. It was getting… concerning.

Kai waited until they crossed a busy road to ask, “What’s the matter? I know this case is obviously overwhelming, but I feel like there’s something else going on in that head of yours.” He stays quiet, almost like he was trying to find the words as she continues, “Is it Jayden?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Do you have a problem with him?”

“No, I…” He sighs. “Well…”

“Well, what?” She grows worried. “Is he actually bad news?”

“No, no, it’s just… how do I say this?” Matt was struggling to explain it like he did earlier to Foggy. “His handshake, his voice… he smells familiar.”

“Smells Familiar?” Kaila raises an eyebrow. “Dad–”

“What I’m saying is, his natural scent reminds me of someone, and I can’t figure out why.” But he ways this whole conversation off with his free hand. “But that’s not what’s nagging me.”

“Then what is it?”

He inhales sharply, deciding there was no easy way to put this, so he says, “At the hospital, before we went in to talk to Frank, Brett pulled me aside. He told me that… the guy who took you is dead.”

“What?!” She says, pulling them to a stop with her widened eyes. “Dad, why are you telling me this now?”

“Because honestly, it slipped my mind. I was more worried when Frank asked to talk to you, that I just forgot.” He frowns. “Until today when Brett called me.”

She tilts her head. “What did he say?”

“That it was in fact not natural causes. It was… morphine. Apparently a far higher dose than you’re supposed to give a patient in pain.”

She sighs, closing her eyes for a second. “Jesus. Do… do they have a suspect? A witness?”

“They don’t know. The nurses who worked with them swear that they’ve never touched that IV since he went into a coma. No one says they haven’t seen anyone go into his room that isn’t staff, but stranger things have happened.”

“Geez. No wonder your head’s in the clouds. You’re trying to play detective right now.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, the bitterness was starting to come through the cracks. “I’m just sick of this. This past month has been… shitty. Nothing is adding up. This, Frank’s family death, even… Elektra’s situation, it’s j-just all… sh-shit. I’m tired of it.”

Kaila sighs again, more quiet this time as she pats her dad’s arm. “Let’s… Let’s take this one step at a time. Let’s worry about Castle first. Let’s try to get him out of the death penalty, then, when the time’s right, we’ll tackle this whole kidnapping thing. For all we know, it was just a crazy ass dude who got it into his head that Nelson and Murdock didn’t help his brother.” She shrugs. “That’s it. Okay?”

He exhales again, and nods (Admitting she’s right) “Okay. Castle first.”

She smiles. “Castle first.” They start their walk again. “I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, same. Took our freaking landlord long enough to fix the door.”

“Surprise he ain’t charging you for it, you trashed it pretty hard.”

“I’m surprised as well.” They made their way inside the building, riding the rickety elevator up to the top floor and making it down the hallway; Matt fumbling for the keys in his pocket. “I know you ate, but if you’re still hungry, I was going to make something for myself.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m pretty stuffed.” She replies, entering the house. “I was thinking maybe before bed we could–”

“Took you long enough.”

The Murdocks froze as soon as they entered the living room. Standing just outside their bathroom was a much older man, snow white hair and bright blue eyes that seemed to look through them despite not being able to see. Kaila felt her father stiffen at her side, and that anger was pushed at full force through his protective barrier.

Stick just brushed off their silence, walking towards Matt’s room with a bunch of towels while saying, “Come on, I need your help to stop the poison.”

The father-daughter duo stayed still, both trying to process this in their own ways before in unison replying,

“What the fuck.”

-Taglist is open if anyone wants to join-

@stinkywhore @invinciblerikkai @glass-ghost

@your-not-invisible-to-me @ohtacosindrome

@mirkwoodshewolf @dreamscandys

@omniromanticbitch @987coley

@hearts4murdock @katnisspeetaprim

@astrobees @cg94 @simpingforpeterparker3000

@cg94 @mattmurdocksstarlight @wolfgirl-205 @hallecarey1 @mademoiselle-marquise-blog

@graciegoeskrazy @magsmilk @bifuriouslatina

@emodruig @skarrkiie @moon22flower @dragonflyreader @thepurpleclown @shroombloom95

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ophelia-loves-desdemona · 1 year ago

Text

This is the first time I've ever posted something hear but I do kinda need help I'm currently writing a Daredevil fanFic and I need help for a Faceclaim of my character I give you infos about her down below 🥰

- she is Matt and Elektras Daughter

- she is in her teens (so preferably a actress that fits that age)

- has dark hair eye colour doesn't matter

-would be amazing if she looks similar to at least one of her parents maybe even her Grandpa

Thank you guys have a great day 🥰

#daredevil #matt x daughter!reader #father matt murdock #matt murdock #elektra natchios #marvel #fanfic #faceclaim #send help #please help

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eykismyfav · 2 years ago

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Daredevil Masterlist

❤️‍🩹- Angst, 💕-Fluff, 💔- Self Doubt/ Insecurity

Matt Murdock

One Shots

if you love somebody, let them go matt murdock x fem!reader Part 1 Part 2 ❤️‍🩹 💕

Imagines

Preferences for being a teenager at the same orphanage Matt Murdock came from with heightened senses and being trained/cared for by him? Matt Murdock x Teen!reader 💕❤️‍🩹

I saw in the Matt x reader tag you’re open to writing some dad Matt?Dad!Matt Murdock x Daughter!Reader 💕

#matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x teen!reader #Dad!Matt Murdock x Daughter!Reader

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souliebird · 28 days ago

Text

[[and then I met you || Ch. 35]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s while Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.6k

ao3 link

He dreams of hands.

They are soft and delicate, but they do not treat him as such. They wrap around his throat, tightening and cutting off his air until he is left gasping and wheezing - nails dig into him, breaking his flesh and drawing up dots of blood.

But the hands do not hurt him. They do not cause pain.

They only bring him pleasure.

They make him feel Desired.

Wanted.

They claw desperately at him, not holding back as they squeeze and tear at him. He isn’t treated as something delicate - something that will crack and break under the slightest pressure. He arches into them as he is marked with thin lines of scratches - begs with what voice he can muster for more.

More.

He’s teased to the point of almost too much before the hands reset.

Whatever they plan for him, he submits so easily to it.

He yearns for it when one leaves his neck to force open his jaw. He is in bliss as his lips are pushed back so his teeth are exposed like he’s an animal in need of inspection. A thumb tests the sharpness of his canines before more digits are added to completely fill his mouth. His head is tilted and guided so he can be thoroughly examined and he prays the fingers will gag him - be shoved down his throat so all he can taste is their saltiness.

But they don’t. They retract until only the tips remain, keeping him from being able to close his mouth. A low whine escapes his throat in protest, something weak and pathetic and needy, and the response he gets is more pressure to his windpipe until he’s struggling to breathe.

As his lungs become desperate for oxygen, something viscous begins to drip into his waiting maw and he wastes no time drinking down whatever the gift is. It is tangy and musky, but sweet and he wants it to coat the inside of his mouth.

He wants to drown in it.

As he begins to overflow and get his wish, the hands holding him down begin to fade into nothingness and he is left floating in the abyss.

But he is not alone.

He is wrapped within the drumming of twin beats - one is stronger than the other, but they are both steady. They are both warm. They call to him and the beast inside his chest trills out in response - he wants to be with them. To be a part of them.

Soon, the smaller beat begins to morph - it’s firm ‘thuds’ stretching and bending until they are words.

“Daddy, wake up.”

Matt’s eyes blink open.

Despite their uselessness in terms of sight, the act still helps him wake up and fight off his grogginess as he begins to process all the inputs he is receiving. The most obvious and important of the signals he is getting is that of his precious daughter, standing next to the bed, just by his chest.

She does not seem distressed in any way, so he does not panic. He lets himself yawn and for his brain to catch up to being awake before he responds.

“Yes, princess?” he asks, voice still thick with sleep. He doesn’t move, hoping that whatever has his daughter out of bed is trivial and he won’t have to get up just yet. He has no idea what time it is, but he gets so little rest that even an extra few minutes will do him wonders.

“Daddy!” Minnie’s voice is filled with absolute delight at his acknowledgement, but is also a fraction above a whisper - like she is just barely breathing out the words. Matt’s lips turn up into a soft smile as he realizes she’s trying to be quiet so she will not wake the other person sleeping in his bed. You are deep in Dreamland, but you have a Mother's Ear. If you hear Minnie up and talking, you'll jump to attention, and neither he or his princess want that.

He rolls so he is on his side facing his little one, and reaches out to run the back of his index finger over one of her full cheeks, “Why are you awake, baby?”

Mouse preens at the affection, a wide smile taking over her face as she leans into his touch, “I needs help, please thank you,” she starts, her soft voice coming out a little rushed as she tries to tell him everything at once. “I gots up all by myselfs and went pee in the toilets. All by myselfs. Buts, Daddy, I can’t…I can’t reach the sinks. I trieded but it's too high and I can’t reach it. I tried really really hard! Mommy says, Daddy, she says, Mommy says if I can’ts do it myself I gotta ask for help. So I need help, please thank you.”

Matt takes in the information slowly, letting it roll in his brain and combine with everything else he senses.

He can hear the toilet gurgling and refilling after being flushed. He can smell the traces of urine on Minnie’s fingers from her efforts to clean herself. The world begins to bloom around him as he processes what is being asked of him.

A small amount of Pride fills him at her attempts to take care of herself. She wears pull ups to sleep because she is still learning to control her bladder at night, but since Matt has known her, there have been no accidents he is aware of - even in this new environment. It isn’t her fault he has a tall pedestal sink with no step stool for her to use so she can wash her hands.

Rest is important, but his little girl needs him, so Matt rolls himself out of bed.

As soon as he is up on his feet, Minnie is holding up her arms to be picked up, so she is scooped up onto his hips, and her tiny arms go right around his neck. His shirt covers the bruises and cuts that make up his entire torso, but it does nothing to cushion the pain of thirty pounds being bumped into him. He's far too disciplined to wince or grunt, but he reminds himself this is why he needs to work on his defense.

He can't play with his daughter with broken ribs.

As he carries her to the bathroom, he becomes more and more awake and Minnie’s attempts to turn on the sink become more and more obvious.

The faucet is dripping the smallest amount of water, one drop at a time - the handle has just barely been nudged to turn on - and something semi solid has been dragged over to be in front of the sink. Only when Matt is right in front of it and can feel the item with his foot does he realize it’s his empty laundry hamper, but tilted over to be on its side.

He huffs a soft laugh as he imagines his daughter trying to figure out a solution to her hand-washing problem. He loves her cleverness and outside the box toddler thinking.

“Did you try to climb up on the hamper to wash your hands?” he asks, curious as to what the response will be. He's curious about her logic and curious if she'll admit to moving the hamper.

“It’s not strongs enough to hold me,” she grumbles into his shoulder and Matt does nothing to suppress his grin. He likes the answer. He likes how honest and direct she is.

He likes that she follows the rules her mother gave about washing her hands. He likes that she realized she had a problem and attempted to find a solution, and when that didn't work, she came and asked for help.

Matt loves her so so much and he loves all the values you have instilled into her. They are the values that you hold, that you cherish, and think are the most important. Every time he thinks about what a wonderful mother you are, his heart swells and he can't believe God is being so gracious with him.

He thanks the Lord everyday for you and the precious angel you have brought into his life.

Matt gets his foot under the hamper and lifts it back up right with ease, explaining as he does, “It’s made of wicker - that’s a type of tree. It’s hollow inside and that means it can’t support any weight. It’s only meant to hold clothes, not people.” He wants her to understand why her problem solving didn't work. He selfishly wants to encourage this type of behavior. If she can get up at night and wash her own hands, he gets more sleep.

“But I’m a peoples.”

“You are a peoples. But Daddy overlooked not having a step stool for you,” he says, owning up to his oversight. He admittedly has not been around too much during waking hours, unfortunately. The firm has been busy, so Matt has been getting to work at seven thirty in the morning and Minnie gets tired around eight at night. That doesn't give him a lot of time when he gets home at six in the evening. “I’ll get one for you today, okay?”

“Can it be pink?”

Matt agrees to the request as the hamper is returned to its usual home, and once that is done, he assists Minnie by holding her up to the sink so she can thoroughly wash her hands. He is no longer surprised at how seriously she takes the task - his angel always wants to follow any rules her Mommy gives her and he knows first hand how overwhelming dirty hands can be on the senses - and the combination results in Minnie scrubbing enough to make a surgeon jealous.

As his daughter focuses on her task, he lets his hearing open up to the world outside the apartment. He gets the feeling it is still a few hours until sunrise - there is a distinct stillness the city gets between four and six am, and that is just beginning to waiver. In his quick scan, no one gives him an exact time, but he knows well enough that however early it is, his day has started. By the way his little girl is humming while she works, he knows there is no chance of getting her back to sleep. She is up and about and there is no way Matt is going to rouse you from your slumber when he’s perfectly capable and taking care of his angel.

He’s used to working on no sleep and he’ll happily sacrifice a few hours of rest to be able to be with his daughter. Plus, he’ll be in court all day, supporting Foggy as second chair - with all the breaks and waiting around that normally occurs, he can sneak in a few power naps.

He’ll be fine.

As for his morning with his sweet girl, Matt has been wanting to cook with Minnie for a while. Despite his diet of take out and leftovers, he does know his way around a kitchen and he knows for a fact Mouse is the best sous chef New York has to offer. She will be thrilled to help him do something special for her favorite person in the world.

And she will be even more thrilled when Matt tells her the plan is to make her Mommy breakfast in bed. He very much wants to spoil you after you took such good care of him the night before and letting you sleep in will just be the tip of the iceberg.

You deserve the Sun, the Stars, and the Moon, and while he can’t manage that at this exact moment, he can wrangle up a few physical reminders of his adoration.

Minnie gets the last of the soap off her hands and Matt pivots so she can reach the towel to dry herself off. As he does, his mind refocuses to the morning routine and the steps he needs to take before he can enact the first steps of his plan - he needs to get his daughter ready for her day. That means getting her dressed and doing her hair.

He sees no reason to beat around the bush, so he bluntly asks, “how do you want to do your hair today, Princess?”

Mouse gives a tiny gasp and looks up at him with what he can only guess is wonder, “you’re gonna do my hair, Daddy?” Her little hands shoot up and she begins patting around her bed-head curls and he can practically hear the gears turning in her mind as she determines what she wants. You’ve told him a few times that you have been letting her make this big decision in the mornings, so he waits patiently, understanding the need for independence.

“A ponytail!” is the final verdict and Matt is slightly relieved it is nothing complicated.

“We can do a ponytail. Can you pick out some clothes that will go nice with a ponytail?” he asks, knowing the answer will be an enthusiastic ‘yes’. Hair is something he can deal with, but picking out a toddler approved outfit is beyond his skill level for obvious reasons. Minnie is a little fashionista with all her tulle and party dresses and he would hate to make her look like a jester instead of the royalty she is.

He adjusts his hold on her before leaving the bathroom and as he makes his way back to the bedroom, he drops his voice low, “we need to be quiet so we don’t wake Mommy, okay?”

“Quiet,” Mouse breathes in agreement, her face scrunching up with determination as she does. “So we don't wake Mommy.” He knows then that she will try her best to obey him and it makes his heart swell.

He has the sweetest little girl in the world.

He sets her back down just outside the doorway, and to his great surprise, she instantly pushes up to be on her tip toes. She is a bit wobbly, but she has far more control than he expected for a four year old. She turns to him, and in the most authoritative voice he’s heard in a while advises, “we gotta be quiets” before sneaking into the room.

Her steps are exaggerated - she lifts her foot up way too high to be practical before setting it down again and between each movement is a pause to check for noise. He is reminded of an old timey bank robber and he guesses that must be the reference she is mimicking - some Bugs Bunny or Scooby Doo cartoon where silence was crucial. Her antics make him smile and he takes a moment to observe them - noting how she is true to her nickname. She makes no excessive noise and he’s sure if he didn’t have his superior senses, he wouldn’t be able to detect her.

It is amazing to him that something that took years of training for him to master comes so naturally to Minnie. She truly is his miracle, and if he thinks about it for too long, he gets overly emotional and philosophical, so he tucks all his awe away for another time and follows her into the bedroom.

While Mouse follows her mission of picking out some clothes, Matt grabs the bucket of hair supplies from his dresser. He doesn’t know what all the different bottles and products are for, but he takes them all anyway. He is hoping a few more sessions will have him graduating out of the novice category of hair styling and he will be able to do more than the basics.

Apparently, asking Minnie to pick out clothes while being quiet also made her focus, as she selects something from her suitcase in record speed. She exits back into the living room the same time he does, a big smile on her face as she holds up her prizes to present to him. He's pretty sure she's showing him a pair of leggings and a t-shirt dress, but such small clothes are a little harder for him to figure out.

“I wanna wear these.”

“With your ponytail?”

“Yes, please! Thank you!”

With the hard decisions made, he guides Mouse over to the couch and that begins the process of changing her into her day clothes. He’s so very lucky that she finds novelty in him being the one to assist her, because she wants to show him all the right way to do things and that she can get dressed all by herself. He’s only needed to help straighten everything out and to tell her she looks perfect in her apparently pink dress.

Her hair is almost just as easy - Matt finds joy in running his fingers through her bouncy little curls and Minnie can't soak up the affection quick enough. He’s gentle as he manually detangles any knots and he forgoes the brush completely in favor of pulling her hair up with his hands. It is far from the smoothest of ponytails, but as soon as his hands are away from her head, Mouse is running to the nearest reflective surface to examine herself.

She twirls and poses, pretending she is in front of a camera while declaring, “Daddy made me extra pretty!”

He does not need anymore ego boosting, but the compliment goes right into his front pocket and he will be telling Foggy about his accomplishments.

He lets her spin around and have her fun, in no rush to move the morning along. He knows better than anyone that these types of small moments are what his Soul and Heart need and he will cling to them as long as he can. He does wish he knew how to get his phone to take video and pictures, because he knows how much you would cherish them. It is something he plans to work on - not only for you but for him as well. He has daydreams about attending dance recitals and spelling bees and he wants to be the proud dad in the crowd filming everything. He wants to be able to go back to those moments and listen to them anytime he wants to.

But until he actually has the energy and patience to learn more about his phone, he will treasure this time only in his memory.

Minnie gives a final peace sign to her reflection, then she turns and hurries over to Matt with her arms held out to be picked up.

“I’m a kitty!” she eagerly tells him as he once again swings her up onto his hip. She not-so-gently headbutts him in the shoulder, then starts rubbing her cheek against his shirt. “Meow meow meow!”

Her gleefullness is infectious and Matt is quickly grinning while he begins to exaggeratedly pet at her back, “Well, Miss Kitty, I was thinking about making some scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast and I was hoping to have an assistant. Since my daughter seems to have disappeared, do you think you can help me?”

Minnie pulls back so she can look at him, then she reaches up, fingers curled up to make a paw, and starts playfully, but so gently, batting at his cheek. “Meow meow, scrambled eggs and toast? Meow meow. I knows how to make those, I can helps, meow meow!”

“You can help?” He confirms and she nods so hard her curls bounce around behind her. “And you won’t get any fur in the eggs? This is an extra special breakfast.”

“Meow meow, extra special breakfast, meow meow?”

He hums in affirmation and begins to carry his little girl towards the kitchen. “Extra special breakfast. You see, someone I love very very much is still asleep and I think it would be nice to wake her up with breakfast in bed. What do you think, Miss Kitty?”

Matt gets another light bop to the face just as Minnie asks, “Meow meow, is it for Mommy, meow meow?”

“It is for Mommy.”

He sets her on the back counter, away from the stove, and starts to pull out everything he will need to complete his task. As he does, Mouse begins to swing her feet.

“Meow meow, Mommy likes red stuff on her eggies. Meow meow meow,” she tells you, but he has no idea what she is talking about. He’s never noticed if you add something to your eggs, but he’s not entirely sure if you have eaten eggs together. Most of your meals together have been lunch or dinner, and he doesn’t recall any breakfast for dinner scenarios.

“I don’t think I have any red stuff,” he advises as he takes out the milk, eggs, cheese, and butter from the fridge. She is completely nonplussed by the update and keeps up her kitty-time play.

“Meow meow, she likes cheese, toos. Meow meow.”

That makes him chuckle and instead of putting the bag onto the counter, he offers it to his daughter, who eagerly hugs it to her chest. “Do kitties like cheese, too?”

“Meow meow, kitties love cheese! Meow meow meow!”

“What about whisking eggs, do kitties love to do that?”

He doesn’t get a verbal response and he gets about a quarter of a second of warning before Minnie is leaping down from the counter. He darts forward, catching her by the waist as her feet miss brushing the floor by a centimeter, but his hold is no match against a wiggly toddler and she’s running out of the kitchen before his mind can process what just happened.

He stands slowly, his heart slamming in his chest with adrenaline over his sweet girl jumping off something twice her height. She had no fear or second thoughts about it, but all he can imagine is her little body crumbling to the ground in pain.

Is this what he puts Foggy through everytime he puts on his helmet?

He pales at the thought.

“Sweetheart, it wasn’t safe to do that. You could have gotten hurt,” he tells her, feeling like the biggest hypocrite in the world. He’s only very recently started caring about his own well being and he’s thrown himself in danger without thought so many times that he’s pretty sure even God has lost count.

“Kitties land on their feets!” Minnie tells him from across the room, rummaging in her bag of toys. He has no idea what she could possibly be looking for and at the moment, as long as she is safe, he doesn’t care.

He drags a hand over his face, very suddenly understanding why being a parent is a full time job. He is definitely going to add on to his plans to spoil you - Minnie is a sweet angel but you need more than praise for raising her.

She finds whatever she was looking for and runs back towards him with it held high over her head - it is plastic and by the smell of it, he’s pretty sure it came from her kitchen playset.

“I knows how to whisk, meow meow!”

Matt takes a deep breath to reset himself, then lets his affection and love for his daughter take over, “you do, do you?”

“Meow meow, yeah, I can whisk lots of things!” She waves the toy at him, clearly proud of herself, and he chuckles at her sweetness and eagerness. He wanted her help in the kitchen and he is certainly going to get it.

“Okay, then, Chef Miss Kitty, let's make some eggs.”

First thing first, he gets the coffee going. He switched to the brand you prefer the morning after your first time in his apartment and he’s made sure to memorize exactly how you take it so he can give you the perfect cup every time.

Next, he cracks eggs into a bowl while Minnie watches like a hawk, her toy whisk clenched tightly in her hand and waiting to do her job. He adds a dash of milk and as soon as he sets down the carton, his shirt is being tugged on so he can lift up his little angel - so he does.

Determined doesn’t even begin to describe what Matt witnesses. Minnie takes the task as seriously as a professional chef, hunched forward and silent as she works. There is a little pout on her lips and he has to latch onto his own professionalism so he won’t laugh.

There is no need for him to direct her - she was not telling tall tales about her abilities. She blends the eggs beautifully and when Matt senses there is no point in continuing to whisk, he kisses her cheek.

“I think you got them, sweetheart. They are perfect, thank you.”

“I love whisking,” she whispers to him like it is a secret and he takes note of it. He’s sure that when Minnie finally gets to meet Foggy’s parents, there will be lots of desserts in his future. Anna loves baking and loves grandkids and letting her have an afternoon with a toddler who loves to cook will probably be like an early Christmas.

She stays on his hip as toast is started and butter is dropped in the pan to melt. She keeps surprisingly quiet, only piping up to ask to switch her whisk for a spatula. She gets a real one as the time comes to start cooking the eggs.

“You have to let them bubble a little and start to become firm,” Matt directs, hoping his directions make sense. “When the parts touching the pan get solid, you have to push them out of the way so the liquidy part can cook, too. Got it?”

“Meow meow, got it, meow meow.”

He doesn’t know if she really understands what he is saying, but it is clear that you have let her stir the eggs before. She is gentle as she nudges things around, like she is aware too much will make a mess and again, she stays sharply focused, seemingly wanting to make your breakfast in bed as perfect as possible. He is quickly learning that tomfoolery is not tolerated in Chef Miss Kitty’s kitchen and he is more than fine with that. He thinks it is absolutely charming that she is so dedicated.

She sits up straighter when the eggs begin to firm and form into a runny scramble and Matt hums out soft praise, “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.”

“I knows how to make eggies, meow meow.”

“You sure do. Do you want to add the cheese now?”

“Meow meow, yes, please. Meow meow.”

He gives her another kiss and a minute later, Minnie is telling him the newly cheesy eggs are done and he sets her down so he can transfer everything to plates. She stays in his shadow but out from under his feet as the toast is buttered and cut, and coffee is poured. It is only after everything is ready to go that he realizes that he does not have a tray to properly present breakfast in bed.

He considers his options, then decides on just bringing the plate as is, with a dish towel under it to keep you from burning your hands. He’ll make sure he has the correct set up for the next time he does this - because he knows very well there will be a next time, and a time after that, and many more after that.

The moment Minnie steps out of his small kitchen area, her demeanor changes completely. She is back to being an excited toddler and Matt lets himself throw his head back and laugh as she takes off towards the bedroom. He follows after her, his heart swollen and glowing with love for both her and the woman who changed his life for the better. He prays this is one of the moments he will remember for the rest of his time on Earth and can replay in his mind over and over again.

“Mommy! Mommy! Wake up! We made you breakfast!”

---

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#soulie writes #fanfiction #and then i met you #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #matt murdock x you

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bellaxgiornata · 9 months ago

Text

A Favor from the Devil |Chapter One|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Mom!Reader Word Count: 2.2k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; Domestic abuse, depictions/mentions of sexual assault, struggles with past trauma, canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut (possibly more warnings to come)

Summary: Between working cases at Nelson, Murdock, and Page and combating crime as Daredevil in Hell’s Kitchen at night, Matt had little time for much else. Until a new neighbor moves in across the hall and you attract his attention with your odd behavior. But when your quiet four year old doesn't just befriend the Devil–she unravels his biggest secret–Matt only grows closer and more protective of the both of you. Inevitably he learns the truth of your past, but that's not what surprises him most. It's a favor you ask of the Devil–a favor that initially leaves Matt conflicted.

a/n: This is a story I've had in my head for quite a few months now and have steadily been working on for a bit for myself, but now I've decided to share it. I've spent quite a bit of time outlining and fleshing out the story--more than I usually do. As always, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tag list: @kee-0-kee @dethspllz @a-half-empty-g1rl @senjoritanana

“And that's the end,” you said.

Closing the book in your lap, you glanced up from the brightly colored illustrations of animals on the back cover to your daughter who sat clutching Barnabas, the stuffed teddy bear that she never went to bed without. Her eyes had grown wide and hopeful as they held your gaze–a look you'd long since become familiar with. It was the same one she always gave you when she was about to stall in an attempt to avoid her inevitable bedtime. And it often worked on you, whether she realized it or not.

“Again?” Evelyn asked softly, a little hand reaching out towards the book. “Please, mama?”

“Cricket,” you replied gently, glad to hear she was stringing more words together tonight despite the excitement of this evening's move. “I've already read it five times now. I think it's time we put it away for tonight and you get to sleep.”

Evelyn's face fell at your answer and the sight pained you. It didn’t help that you knew just how anxious she'd been the entire weekend with all the big changes you both had going on yet again. She'd spent the past week barely saying more than a single word because of it.

“The book will still be here tomorrow,” you promised her. “We can read it again then.”

“Helps me sleep,” she whispered.

The growing frown curving her lips downwards and the little crease forming between her furrowed brows tugged at your heart. Especially with how she looked so small tucked inside the too-large sleeping bag you'd recently purchased at a thrift store. It looked as if she was being swallowed up by the giant purple thing considering she didn't even take up half the length of it.

Sighing, you felt your resolve fading the longer she stared up at you with her pleading eyes. With everything that you'd both been through over the past few months, and how you'd already felt guilty for all of the things you'd done wrong and hadn't been able to give her–which included an actual bed to sleep in once you'd gotten this apartment–you knew you wouldn't be able to resist that look. The very least you could do was read the book to her for a sixth time.

Leaning back once more against the bedroom wall behind you, you settled in for another few minutes on the uncomfortable floor. “Alright,” you relented. “I can read it just one more time for you, cricket. But then you've got to promise me something. Can you do that?”

The expression on her face changed, her small nose slightly scrunching up as her head turned to the side. “What?” she asked.

“Promise me that you'll actually go to sleep when I'm done,” you said, reaching a hand out to lightly ruffle her hair. “Because it's late and you've got your first day of preschool in the morning. Remember?”

“Oh,” she whispered, visibly sinking lower into the sleeping bag.

You frowned. She'd been nervous for that, too.

“Hey,” you said, your hand smoothing her hair before coming to gently rest along her shoulder. “You'll have fun there, I promise. I know it can seem scary going somewhere new, but you've been doing a great job adjusting to all the new things we've been through already. And you'll make friends, Evie. It'll be alright, I promise.”

The doleful look on her face didn't waver despite your attempt to comfort her. You hoped that beginning preschool tomorrow in conjunction with yet another move didn't set her back to nonverbal responses again. Guilt burned inside of you at the thought of how much your previous situation had led her to become so timid and quiet, afraid to use her own voice. It didn't matter that everyone at Hope Haven had tried to reassure you that none of what you'd been through was your fault, that you had done everything you could when you could. That didn't stop you from still feeling wholly responsible.

You should have seen it coming. Should have done something sooner.

But that was in the past now.

“And after work I'll pick you up and bring you back home with me,” you told her, trying to lighten her mood. “We can eat tonight's leftover pizza for dinner. And maybe I can get us some ice cream on the way home. How does that sound, cricket?”

Evelyn's hands began fidgeting with the edge of her sleeping bag, rolling it up between her small fingers. Her eyes remained downcast, avoiding yours. You knew she often fidgeted when she was anxious, a habit that just seemed wrong for a four year old to have acquired.

“Is this home?” she asked.

The ever present guilt in your stomach burned, your chest tightening at the unexpected and loaded question. You hated that she worried about things that no four year old should be worrying about, too. Another thing that was all your fault.

Expression softening, you nodded. “Yeah, Evie,” you answered, your hand dropping down to wrap around her little one that was still fidgeting with the edge of her sleeping bag. “This is home. We're staying here. Hopefully for a long, long time.”

Glancing up at you from beneath her lashes, you could see the expression on her face had yet again changed. This time she was staring up at you with a look that you absolutely hated seeing on her little face. One full of fear and uncertainty. A particular memory flashed through your mind at the sight of it and the acid in your stomach had a wave of nausea hitting you. Eyes briefly dropping down to the scar across the back of your right hand, you tried to fight back the tremble that had begun in it.

“We're safe?” Evie asked.

Attempting to swallow down the lump that had formed in the back of your throat, you nodded. You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, though it felt like your heart was shattering in that moment. Because after all, it had also been your fault that it had taken so long to get the pair of you somewhere safe.

“Yes,” you stated, your trembling hand gripping the book in your lap tighter in an attempt to calm the quivering. “We're safe here. Don't ever worry about that, alright? That's for me to worry about. And I will always make sure you're safe. You hear me? Always .”

There was a long pause before she very slowly nodded her head just once. Your left hand patted hers tenderly, sending her what was meant to be a reassuring smile. You hoped it had been, because you'd been doing your best to appear more put together than you actually felt lately. You didn't need Evie to be worrying about anything else.

“So,” you said, trying to change the topic, “I guess we should get back to finishing our bedtime story, huh?”

Evie nodded vigorously, pushing herself more upright in her sleeping bag, her expectant eyes on you. You sent her another smile before clearing your throat and focusing back down on the book in your lap. Opening it once more with your still quivering hand, you tried to push the bad memories from your mind as you began to read in an animated voice.

It wasn't until four pages later that you'd glanced up at Evie. She had leaned over to see the pictures in the book while you read, all traces of fear gone from her face. Instead, she looked enraptured in the story that you knew she had completely memorized by now with how often you'd read it to her. There was a ghost of a smile on her face as she cuddled Barnabas tightly to her chest. And in that moment your heart felt full of hope.

Running a hand across your forehead, you paced your way around the mostly unfurnished apartment you'd just moved into this evening. The sparseness of the place was truthfully embarrassing. Currently all you had was Evie's sleeping bag, a blanket and lumpy pillow set aside by Evie’s bedroom door which would be your bed for the foreseeable future, and the empty boxes tossed around what would someday hopefully be a living room. For now it was just a large, empty room beside the small, empty kitchen.

As you paced around another overturned, half-broken down cardboard box, your shoulders dropped. You'd managed to pack all of Evelyn's and yours’ belongings in those boxes now lying discarded on the floor. Just six boxes fit your entire life. You certainly hadn't had much when you'd grabbed Evelyn and ran those couple of months ago. Just one garbage bag filled with mostly her clothes and things with a few of yours mixed in. Though even if you'd had time to pack more, there wouldn't have been much else to bring with you because neither of you’d ever had much to begin with.

And now here you were struggling to afford the very little you had as it was, no matter how desperately you were trying to stretch your measly new salary. It pained you to not be able to provide properly for you and your daughter. You remembered how you’d felt that very last night you'd stayed at Hope Haven, the women's shelter that you’d be forever grateful for taking the pair of you in and helping you start your new life.

Long after Evelyn had gone to sleep on your last night there, you'd laid awake in bed crying quietly to yourself as you stared at that damn purple sleeping bag mocking you from across the room. You’d felt like a terrible mother–for more than one reason. As tears ran down your cheeks, you’d vowed to save up to buy Evie a bed, doing whatever you needed to until you could. You'd give her that at least, even if it meant skipping meals whenever you could to save the extra cash. But honestly, you found yourself already often having to skip meals just so you could afford to keep Evie fed.

Pausing in your aimless pacing, you came to a stop beside one of the large windows in the living room. Placing a hand against the cool glass, you looked outside at the city. Your eyes inevitably found their way to the massive billboard positioned on the building across the street which hung at precisely your apartment's height. But fortunately for you the eyesore was more directly across from the apartment next door to yours, making it less noticeable and disruptive from your view. Though you had no choice but to feel grateful for the hideous thing because it had been the sole reason you'd gotten such a reduced rent in the first place. Otherwise you'd never have been able to afford a place in a relatively safe area of Hell’s Kitchen.

As you blankly stared outside at the billboard, watching the advertisements change from one to the next, you hoped things would be different here. Better. Because both you and Evie needed that. Your daughter needed a stable place to live, one she felt safe coming home to for once, and you desperately wanted to provide that for her. With every fiber of your being you hoped that this place would finally become the home you'd been struggling to create since the day she was born.

Pushing away from the glass, you rubbed at your tired eyes. It was late and you knew you should probably get some sleep yourself now that Evie had finally fallen asleep a little while ago. But the prospect of sleeping on the cold, hard floor with nothing but a singular blanket and pillow didn't sound that appealing. You certainly weren't rushing to get to sleep yourself.

Making your way back across the apartment, you reluctantly picked up the blanket and pillow from the ground. Carrying both of them over towards the closed door of Evelyn's bedroom, you set the pillow down. With both hands you tossed the blanket out, splaying it wide across the floor. You realized it was probably ridiculous sleeping in front of her bedroom door like this, especially because there was another bedroom, but it made you feel better. Because laying here, you knew that you were between your daughter and anyone who might come through the front door–namely one person in particular.

Not that he even knew where you were.

Beginning to lower yourself to the floor, preparing to get some rest, movement caught your attention out of the kitchen window across the room. You stopped instantly, head spinning fully towards the window as you sat half-crouched like a startled animal. Adrenaline and fear spiked through you as your eyes caught a shadow darting across the neighboring rooftop. For a moment you could have sworn the shadow had been shaped like a person, but as you scanned the rooftop now, you didn't see anything at all.

Shaking your head, you blinked hard a couple of times as you finally sunk to the floor. You had to have been seeing things because you were overtired and on edge. That's all it was. There was no reason for someone to be running along a rooftop late at night.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #daredevil

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farfromstrange · 7 months ago

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Fictober Day 11: Girl Dad

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Girl Dad (🌼)

Summary: Your daughter likes to have tea parties with her father, and he is more than happy to play along.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of pregnancy, parenthood, slight angst, established relationship, husband!Matt

Word Count: 1.4k

A/n: I don't know about you, but I see Matt as a Girl Dad who is more than eager to give his little girl whatever she wants. And yes, she would be just like him.

Read Me On AO3!

The apartment is quiet—too quiet. Normally, you wouldn’t complain about a moment of peace; with a three-year-old around, even a minute to relax would be heaven on earth, but there is something eerie about the silence in the four walls you call home. No laughing, no crying, and no pattering of bare feet along the floorboards. No shouting, ‘Mommy!’ Until you drop everything to pay attention to your very quirky and very eccentric daughter. She’s got that from her father, too.

Silence with a toddler is hardly a good thing when she is far out of your sight. You learned that the hard way the day she got into your makeup and decided to repaint the bathroom. Despite all of the chaos, you have never loved a tiny human more than her.

When you got pregnant, it came as a shock to you—both yourself and Matt. He’s always been Catholic, and you’d been together for years at that point already, but there was something about the thought of having a baby that scared him in more ways than one. The full extent only hit you though when you peed on a stick, and it turned blue.

What if he couldn’t do this, he thought. What if he couldn’t be the father your child needed? What if he was entirely too damaged to be a father? What if the fact he couldn’t see would make it impossible for him to have a relationship with his child? He told you all of that and more. His father was good, but he died, and his mother left him, and he turned into Daredevil because the world is just so full of endless injustice; what good could that possibly do for a child, he thought.

Needless to say, the first time Matt held his daughter, he was terrified. He thought, why on earth would anyone, in good conscience hand him, the man whose fists are scared from countless fights on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, such a small, fragile, and innocent human being?

“Congratulations, Dad,” one of the nurses had said.

Dad. For nine months, he’d heard her little heartbeat in your belly. He’d felt her kick when she was strong enough to do so. It was surreal to him that you were carrying his daughter—his daughter. You were really doing this. Having a family.

Though when the air first filled her tiny lungs and the nurses placed her screaming form on your chest, reality hit him.

All those fears he’d had at the beginning of your pregnancy bubbled back to the surface. The medical equipment around him was so loud he almost had a panic attack, but you were okay, and the baby was okay, and suddenly, you were asking if he wanted to hold her, too. You, the woman who just gave birth to his daughter, and the first love of his life.

The first time Matt held his daughter, he was terrified, but when his shaky fingers brushed her delicate skin to see her face, it only took a second for him to fall in love.

“Hi,” he’d said. “Uh, I’m your Dad.”

She was looking up at him, he could feel it, and all his fears melted away again.

Grace Murdock. You knew her name before she was even born, but it hit him even more when she was finally here. In a way, she was his saving grace.

That was three years ago. Three magical, chaotic, and sleepless years ago.

Grace was the best thing to ever happen to you after falling in love with her father, but she did inherit his tendency to get into trouble; when neither Grace nor Matt is anywhere to be found, all alarms in your head go off.

You put down the towel and make your way from the kitchen down the hallway.

Faint voices start to reach you the closer you get to your daughter’s bedroom. “More tea, daddy,” you hear Grace say. It’s not a question, it is merely a blatant statement.

Matt hums. “Thank you, sweetheart. It’s delicious.”

“No, you dwink it!”

“I am drinking it.”

“No, you’re not. Dwink it.”

You peek through the gap in the door, not sure what to expect, but when you catch your husband sitting at the tiny pink table you got her last Christmas, surrounded by stuffed animals in princess dresses, you have to bite your lip not to laugh. You didn’t expect that.

Matt is draped in one of her blankets, wearing a pink crown that has certainly seen better days. His large frame barely fits on the children’s chair he seems to have been banished to, and he’s holding a teacup about the size of his pinky finger. But what surprises you most is how serious he looks as he takes a ‘sip’ from the imaginary tea to please his little girl.

He’s never going to live that one down.

Grace nods, hands propped up on her hips as her brown hair bounces up and down. She’s the spitting image of her father. “Good job, daddy,” she says.

Matt, sitting there in all his stoic seriousness, sips from his tiny teacup with the same level of focus he’d use in court. “Thank you, Your Highness,” he says.

“You’re a pwetty princess.”

He nods, dead serious. “That’s right. I’m a pretty princess.”

You giggle quietly to yourself. It’s the expression on his face—this mix of pure, unfiltered love for his daughter—that gets you. No matter how silly or extravagant, for Grace, he’d do anything. He’s making memories with her that she will remember long after she’s moved out of the house, and that, to you, is what makes you fall in love with him all over again.

Grace refills his cup with expert precision. “Mommy’s the queen,” she states. “’Cause she’s the boss of you.”

Matt pauses for a split second, his jaw slacking slightly. “Hold on, sweetie. Mommy’s not the boss of me,” he says.

Bless him, you think. He’s so wrong.

“She is,” Grace insists.

“And what am I?” He sounds almost hurt.

“A princess. Duh!”

She goes about pouring tea for her stuffed animals next, not a care in her little world. Matt’s head turns toward you. Of course, he heard you coming.

“You’re lucky she’s not calling you her peasant,” you say, your voice teasing. “You still get to be a pretty princess.”

He chuckles. “You’re the boss.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

Matt shakes his head as if he’s giving in to some long-held truth. “Apparently, I’ve been dethroned,” he says. His smile, though playful, is full of warmth as he turns his attention back to Grace.

“You’re not dethroned,” you clarify, sliding into the room. “You’ve just… been promoted to Princess-in-Chief.”

He raises an eyebrow. “It’s Pretty-Princess-in-Chief, Mrs. Murdock. Thank you very much.”

You laugh. “Apologies. Pretty Princess-In-Chief, of course.”

Grace notices you then for the first time since you’ve entered, and her face lights up. “Mommy!” she says. “I made tea.”

“For me?” you ask.

“Yes!”

“That’s so sweet.” You let her pull you to one of the tiny plastic chairs. “Thank you, baby.”

Matt instantly leans closer to you, lowering his voice just for you to hear. “You know, I’m not sure how I feel about the hierarchy in this household,” he says.

You snort. “Oh, you’re perfectly fine with it. Besides, you’re still her hero,” you say. “Even if you have to wear a pink crown to get the job done.”

He shakes his head with a sigh that’s far too dramatic to be serious. “Yeah, well… I’ll take whatever title she gives me.”

“And wear a crown,” you add, adjusting the slightly crooked plastic crown on his head. “Suits you, by the way.”

He takes your hand in his. “I’d wear a hundred crowns if it made her happy.”

The love in his eyes is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. He’s so in love with her it makes you want to cry sometimes because the man who once had been so scared of becoming a father now is the best he could possibly be for his baby girl.

Your lips ghost over his cheek, your kiss a gentle breath against his skin. “I know.”

Grace rushes back over with a stuffed bear and plops it on the table. “Mr. Bear says no kissin’!” she says.

You pull away from him. “Sorry, Your Highness.”

“Very demanding,” Matt murmurs.

From the corner of your eye though, you can see him smirk, and all you can say to that is, “I wonder where she’s got that from.”

Your daughter is completely in her element, pouring more imaginary tea and singing quietly to herself.

This is it, you think. These are the kind of moments that remind you why, despite everything—the sleepless nights, the chaos, and the uncertainty—you wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @ravenclaw617 @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock #dad!matt #husband!matt #matt murdock fluff #daredevil #daredevil x reader #lizzi's fictober 2024 #charlie cox

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aquaholicsanonymousworld · 2 months ago

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A New Devil

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fisk!Daughter Reader, Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x Fisk!Daughter Reader

Summary: The daughter of Wilson Fisk walks a dangerous line between power and passion in Hell’s Kitchen. When Matt Murdock confronts her in the bar of her father’s Presidential Hotel, warning her about Benjamin Poindexter—her latest entanglement—wearing the Daredevil suit and wreaking havoc, she refuses to play into his self-righteousness. Matt sees her making the same mistakes as Fisk, but she insists she’s always one step ahead.

Inspired by: @prince-septimus 's headcannon? oneshot? about this topic.

The city breathes like a beast beneath you—alive, hungry, always watching. Hell’s Kitchen was never yours, not really, but it wasn't his either. Not Murdock’s. Not Dex’s. Not your father’s. It belonged to the shadows in between, and you had learned to navigate them with ease.

And yet, even as you sat across from Matt in the sleek, dimly lit bar of the Presidential Hotel—now your father’s hotel—you could feel the weight of all three men pressing in around you. Your father. Your ex. Your... whatever Dex was now.

"You shouldn’t be here," you murmured, swirling your drink lazily as you avoided looking at him. "You shouldn’t have called me."

Matt smiled that infuriating little smirk of his, the one that made you want to either punch him or kiss him, depending on the day. "Then why did you answer the phone?"

You exhaled sharply through your nose, setting the glass down with a soft clink. "Say what you need to say, Murdock."

"It’s about Poindexter."

You went still. A slow blink. A measured breath. "What about him?"

Matt leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, lowering his voice. "He’s wearing my suit."

The words barely had time to settle before you scoffed. "And?"

His jaw tensed. "And he’s using it to tear this city apart."

You rolled your eyes. "Spare me the theatrics. You think I don’t know what he does? You think I don’t know what you do? The only difference between the two of you is a red suit and a self-righteous complex."

Matt exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "You don’t see it, do you?"

You tilted your head, challenging him. "See what?"

"You think you’re different from your father. That you’re smarter than him, better. But you’re making the same mistake. You’re letting a man who was made to kill whisper sweet things in your ear, and you’re pretending he won’t turn on you when the time comes."

A slow smile curled your lips, sharp and cruel. "Oh, Matty. The difference between my father and me is that I don’t pretend he won’t. I just plan for when he does."

Matt’s expression darkened. "Then you know how this ends."

You reached for your drink again, raising it slightly. "Everything ends, Matthew. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy it while it lasts."

Dex was waiting for you when you got back to your apartment. Sitting on your couch like he belonged there, a knife in his hands, flipping it between his fingers with that eerie precision of his.

"Was he convincing?" he asked without looking up.

You let out a breath, kicking off your heels. "He’s worried about you. Thinks you’re unstable."

Dex snorted. "Takes one to know one."

You smirked, making your way toward him, settling onto his lap without hesitation. He let you, hands immediately resting against your hips, firm and possessive.

"What do you think?" he asked, voice dropping lower. "Am I unstable?"

You ran your fingers through his hair, tilting his head back just slightly. "I think you’re dangerous," you murmured. "And I think I like it."

His eyes darkened, his grip tightening. "Careful, princess. You might start sounding just like your father."

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his, barely a whisper of a touch. "Then it’s a good thing I never wanted to be anything else."

Dex’s breath hitched just slightly before he yanked you down into a bruising kiss, sharp and consuming, as if he wanted to mark you from the inside out.

You wanted him to.

Because Matt was wrong.

You weren’t your father.

You were worse.

#daredevil born again #benjamin poindexter x reader #matt murdock x reader #benjamin poindexter imagine #benjamin poindexter #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil #imagine #fanfic #oneshot #mattmurdock #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock imagine #matthew murdock imagine #charlie cox #wilson bethel

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graciegoeskrazy · 6 months ago

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youve seen the new thunderbolts trailer right….

sooooooo r we gonna get new bucky fics errrrr likeeeee????

(im obviously joking i just remembered u mention it once and I just want to see what ur thoughts are tehehehehe🤲🏻)

I JUST WATCHED IT OH MY GAWDDDDDD

VAL?! STARK TOWER?! BOB?! BUCKY??!?!?!?!

The Thunderbolts was the first comic that little Gracie ever read so it has a very special place in my lil heart ❤️

And so when seeing this lineup for this cast last year I OBVIOUSLY JUMPED FOR JOY CUZ LIKE WHAT

maybeeeeee if someone wants to send any ideas…. (Send in ideas plz😭)

I have some 75 fics that are taking up a lot of time cuz they need to be long to make sence? Idk just trust me. But maybe once the next few are done the.n we can do that?

I have a thunderbolt SERIES actually from about two years ago that never made the light of day. The first at least three chapters are finished if I remember correctly but idk how I feel about releasing that.

Lowk I’m sure the bug for writing Bucky and Murdock will come back as soon as those two are released next year.

ANYWHO.

We shall see. 😉

#gg talks #bucky barnes x daughter!reader #matt murdock x daughter!reader

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 7 months ago

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weren't we the stars in heaven? | m. murdock

a/n: hi guys. so sorry i haven't posted a full length fic about matt in a while so as a sorry here's a BEAST of a fic. i have nothing much to say about this, but i will say that i am not thrilled with the ending but oh well. enjoy! i'm gonna go take a nap but i am really proud of this so if you guys like it, let me know! warnings: oh boy. so many things. cursing, use of weed, drinking, matt is married but it's an open marriage, lots of religious imagery, sex, rough fucking, unprotected sex, no use of y/n, lowkey some mean matt smut, his kid is autistic but its not mentioned a ton, reader is hard of hearing but its only mentioned once, female reader with female anatomy, age gap, nicknames, ANGST, dirty talk, hella flirting and pining, just. it's a lot. word count: 9.2k (holy moly) summary: you develop a crush on a friend of your dad's from work. the only problem is that he's married, twice your age, and you babysit his son. pairing: dbf!matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: anything - adrianne lenker "lay on your lap when i'm crying/weren't we the stars in heaven?/weren't we the salt in the sea?/dragon in the new warm mountain/didn't you believe me?"

Spring

A week at home is too long. You think about how torturous a whole summer here will be. It’s almost enough to make you sign up to be a summer orientation leader or even a tour leader. Almost. The pay isn’t that good to stay in the dorms without AC all summer.

Of course, your mother asks you to go to church on Easter Sunday and because she did your laundry and cooked you your first home-cooked meal in months, you oblige her.

And as you’re sitting there, on your knees with your hands folded, your eyes peek open, beginning to wander around the church. It’s way too hot in this church, and you are bored out of your mind.

You realize you are the only one who is bored out of your mind. Well.. Almost.

Your gaze catches onto a man who looks just as bored as you do, only, you can’t really tell if he’s looking at you. You lean your head back and roll your eyes, trying to signal how god damn bored you are to him. He just smirks, and your heart flutters.

It almost looks like his smirk widens at that.

Your face flushes and you just put your head back down, closing your eyes as if you’ve been caught doing something you’re not supposed to.

Eventually when the service is over, you’re still thinking about the strange man on the other side of the church as you sip church lemonade that is way too sweet—But you’ve been up for hours and this is the first thing you’ve had since you woke up.

Your parents are making pleasant conversations with various friends they know, and you smile awkwardly at friends from high school. You almost choke on your lemonade when you see the man make his way out of the church, his arm hooked to a woman’s as he taps a cane against the pavement, a young boy next to them as well.

And before you know it, the family of three is approaching your family and your ears are burning red.

Your dad happily shakes his hand and pulls him in for one of those weird man hugs that you don’t really understand, as your mother does one of those weird moves where she presses her cheek against his wives.

Your father gestures over to you and says, “This is our daughter,” And he gives them your name, “She’s home for spring break from school.”

You wave to the kid, before shaking the wife’s hand, and then his— His hand is warm. Your heart is racing and you just shake his hand, trying to ignore the soft squeeze that accompanies the shake.

“Matthew,” He introduces himself like your insides aren’t discombobulated, “Matthew Murdock.” You just look at him, blinking for a second, and your mind begins to wander. How did he know you were rolling your eyes in the church if he’s blind? And how is he so hot?

You think you might die—Your face is flushed, and you think for sure that you’ve been caught, and that his wife will see right through this little charade and knows that you have a huge crush on her husband, whom you just met. He must know what he’s doing because he just smirks at you and opens his mouth to say something, but your mom just looks at you with a look of concern.

“Honey, are you alright?” she asks, “You look warm,” You shake your head with a soft smile.

“No, I’m uh.. Well, I think I’m gonna take a quick walk, find some shade—Excuse me.” You say politely, but before you can leave the conversation, Matt smiles,

“I’ll come with you. I could use the fresh air.” He offers, and you almost say no, but your mom smiles like she’s trying to fucking kill you—

“What a wonderful idea, You can tell Mr. Murdock all about your studies.” She offers, and something in your stomach twists with embarrassment—the way she phrases it makes you sound so.. young. So, you just offer Matt your arm, and he hooks his hand onto it like it’s casual.

And so, the pair of you walk through the courtyard of the church, eventually finding a bench where the sun barely creeps through the leaves of the willow tree that hangs over it, and the pair of you sit down, silence overwhelming you.

“So, what’s your major?”

“Oh, uh—English. I’m an English major.” You say, almost ashamed at how boring you sound, “And.. what do you do?”

“I’m a Lawyer,” he smiles. Your dad is a security guard at the court you have in town, so there’s no question of how they know each other.

“Your wife seems nice,” you blurt out, wanting to say something nicer to convince him—maybe yourself, that you really truly are not jealous of a woman you just met.

“She is,” he answers politely, as if that’s.. the kindest thing he can say about her.

“What’s your son’s name?” You ask curiously.

“Lucas.” He smiles fondly now, and your heart melts at the thought that this man truly feels nothing but pure, burning affection for his son. “When do you go back to school?” He asks curiously.

“Oh, tomorrow.” You smile, “Thank god.”

Then, he catches you off guard.

“That’s the most genuine thing you’ve said since we sat down.” He smirks, “Not a fan of your hometown?”

You don’t know how to explain it, not really—When you were applying to college, your mom asked you if you wanted to apply to any local colleges. And while you’re persistent that there’s nothing wrong with community college, you were sure that you needed to get out of here, or else you think you would’ve died.

But, you owe Matt an explanation.. Well, maybe you don’t, but you think you do.

“It’s not that,” You promise, “There’s just something about being here that brings out the worst in people.” You sigh.

His hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, and while it’s subtle, you notice the way that his thumb rubs against your skin, and you might melt right into him.

“Don’t let anyone ever shame you for leaving.” He offers gently, and you think you just about fall in love with him. Then, his head picks up as the screechy tone of his wife calling for him interrupts your conversation. He just sighs, and makes a bold move—his hand goes to your thigh and gently, just barely, rubs his fingers against the fabric of your sundress, the tips of his fingers teasing your skin. “Well, I’ll.. see you in the summer then?” he ponders.

“Uh-huh..” You say, your eyes soft with want. Then, he walks right out of your life.

Summer

As spring melted into summer, and as you finished the rest of your finals, your dad picks you up from your dorm, packing everything you hold near and dear into his truck, and then starting the drive home.

For the past month and a half, you have heard nothing about Matt or his family. Sometimes, you ask your parents, ‘How’s your job, how’s the church’, begging for any crumbs of information about Matt. And you aren’t even sure why, because in your mind, he is very happily married.

It takes about a week. You sit, day after day, summer job hunting, waiting to be doomed to minimum wage and exhausting hours. Then, your mom comes home with groceries and a smile that you know can only mean bad news.

“I found you a job!” She declares happily, as you put the milk in the fridge.

“In the dairy aisle of the grocery store?” You question, and she laughs.

“No, no, I found you a babysitting job for the summer.” She smiles. “For the Murdocks!”

You squeeze the orange in your hand so hard that your thumbnails pierce it as orange juice drips down your hands, blinking before throwing out the orange, your hand reeking of the tangerine, fingers sticky with sugar.

“I’m sorry?” You manage to squeak out.

“You’re going to be babysitting their son, Lucas. They both work from nine to five, sometimes later. You’d get paid to just hangout with the kid,” She shrugged with a soft smile.

Oh, great. You’re gonna be trapped in the man’s house, looking after his kid. Fucking amazing.

But, you really don’t even see Matt, especially not the first day. Well, really, you barely see him over the course of the first week, but you get whispers of him, and it’s almost worse. You see his graduation photos, his wedding photos, a photo of him holding Lucas in the hospital.

You see his office door cracked open, you see a mug with his name on it, you see his wedding ring on the table—

You see his wedding ring on the table?

He’s elusive. But, from the fragmented sentences you get from Lucas, he tells you how his parents aren’t quite like other couples. Your mind is caught on the fact that Matt and his wife might not be 100 percent happy together, and then you feel guilty that you want to take it as an opportunity to comfort him, in the least Godly way possible.

Matt and Lucas’ mother will be working late tonight, she tells you in the morning, there’s money for dinner on the counter, and you can just relax until they get home.

Lucas drags you all over town that day. The park, the comic bookstore, and then you spend two hours in target, trying to find anything related to Bluey or Cars 2, the only two things he wants to talk about. Your body is sore from looking after him. He’s a very nice kid, but you recognize that he’s.. different.

Nobody in your town has a diagnosis, but you can tell that Lucas is on the spectrum, and you have every intention of telling Matt to get him a diagnosis, so he has the resources he needs to succeed in school.

But, tonight, you’re tired. Very very tired.

So, after putting Lucas to bed and enjoying a slice of semi cold pizza, along with flat diet soda, you find yourself in the backyard. Lucas’ window is open, and you can see the downstairs steps from where you’re sitting, so you’ll be able to see Lucas if he needs anything.

You’re sitting in a patio swing, letting your feet rock you back and forth. Maybe it’s unprofessional of you.. but you scrounge through your bag, finding your pen and turning it on, taking a long hit. You walk to and from work, so it’s not like you won’t be able to drive yourself home.

Then, you see Matt come in, and you freeze. Fuck.

You watch as he sets his bag down, slipping his suit jacket off after. Then, he tucks his cane somewhere safe, before his fingers begin to work at folding his sleeves up to his elbows. His fingers rub his temple for a minute, obviously exhausted from a long time. Then, he takes off his glasses and your heart skips a beat.

He pauses as soon as your heartbeats and he smirks when he turns towards the backyard door. Oh fuck.

He slides the patio door open and approaches you,

“Why are you outside?” he asks, sitting next to you.

“Uh.. Just, enjoying the weather.” And he laughs like you’re the funniest person he knows as he sits down next to you, groaning as he does, and your heart can barely take it.

“You’re a horrible lair, sweetheart.” He tells you. Does he know how desperately you want him? “What are you really—” Then he pauses, his nose twitching. “Are you smoking weed?” He questions.

“No.” You say, but as you breath out, smoke blows out of your mouth as you cough a bit.

“Oh my god—”

“Wait, wait, wait, don’t fire me—”

“Hand it over.” He says, hand outstretched, waiting for the pen. And not even for a second does your brain imagine denying him. It doesn’t cross your mind that maybe he doesn’t have that authority over you and you’re a grown adult.

In fact, you’re foolish if you ever thought he has no authority over you.

You hand over the pen sheepishly, but.. you’re caught way off guard when is fingers study the pen, finding the button and taking a hit for himself. You just watch him, mesmerized as he exhales through his nose.

“Sorry,” he starts, taking another hit before passing it back to you, “I’ll make it up to you.” he promises.

“It’s okay,” You giggle, a little bit from how comical it was, but a little bit from how fucking hot that was. Then, you take another hit, as he just rocks the porch swing back and forth, like he’s rocking you to sleep. The night is cool enough that the smoke barely rattles your lungs, and the intensity of summer has gone to sleep. Silence fills the air, as you just pass your pen back and forth, love in your eyes.

“Why is your wedding ring on the table?” You finally ask. You expect Matt to tense up, to scoff and tell you to mind your fucking business, but he just blows out more smoke before responding,

“My wife and I don’t have the most.. conventional of relationships.” He responds, “We’re in an open relationship.” He adds.

“Oh.” You breath out.

“Yeah. Oh. It’s more like.. She goes out and dates and fucks and I flirt occasionally, but that’s sort of a long title.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He takes a hit, “Oh.”

You don’t have anything to offer to that.

“Are you from here?” you ask, and he just smiles.

“No.” He says, and now there is true yearning in his voice. “Hell’s Kitchen, New York.” He responds.

“Do you at least like it here?” You ponder, as if his far away voice didn’t give him away.

“At first it’s fine. You try to fit in, just, make your way through, settle down. Then, you begin to hate it. You feel like if it sunk into the ground right at this very second, you’d die happy. Then, you become.. indifferent. You don’t mind the numbness of it all, you just stay perfectly complacent. Then, you wake up and are desperate to escape, like your own personal Truman show. The Matthew Show. Wouldn’t that be something to see?” He muses.

And again, you have nothing to offer but another piece of your soul, just throwing it out there,

“Would you date anyone?”

“Excuse me?”

“Like, if you had someone you were really into, would you date her—Them, whoever?” You ask. “Whomever?” You ask, quieter now, mostly to yourself.

He smiles.

“If someone came along, someone say, who smoked weed, got along very well with my son, and was a horrible liar? Bonus points if she—they,” You suspect he’s making fun of you, “were an English Major?”

You tilt your head with a doe eyed smile.

“You remember I’m an English major?” He coos at you like you’re stupid,

“I remember everything about you, sweetheart.” What is wrong with him? What is wrong with you? Why aren’t you saying anything more to him?

“You know, sometimes, I remember the feeling of your fingers on my thigh when I touch myself,” And he grins like he knows he’s won.

“I bet you do,” He whispers, leaning forward so that his breath was hot against your skin, “Bad, Bad girl..” he ticks, and you can’t help but blush.

“Sorry,” You giggle out as your hand comes up to his face, just to move the pads of your fingers over his scruff.

“It’s okay, sweet girl,” he purrs, his hand finding your thigh again, the twitch of your legs not lost on him. “I don’t mind,” he hums. The weed you smoked is starting to kick in, and with it, your inhibitions start to slip away, your hand reaching so that you can barely touch his hair with the tips of your fingers. He takes another quick hit of your pen before taking your face in his hands, squeezing just a bit so he can lean in and blow smoke into your mouth, and as if it’s communion wine, you inhale, wanting every part of him you can have. Maybe it’s greedy, but you’ll atone for your sins later.

When he pulls away, you think you might just die and go up to heaven.

“I think..” You think so many things. You think that maybe he’s fucking with you. You think that this is a nice little dream that you’ll think back on when you’re old and wrinkly. The deepest, darkest, most insignificant piece of you that you pretend isn’t there, says—

What if he leaves his wife for you?

And you completely understand that you’ve barely kissed the man, but you never claimed that the deep dark part of you was smart, chill or even a little bit in touch with reality, only that it exists.

Besides, the deepest, darkest, most insignificant piece of you that you pretend isn’t there isn’t something you can ignore. Ignoring it is like trying to hold a beachball underwater—Eventually it’ll pop back up and hit you in the face.

“I think that maybe I should head home.” You finally answer, and maybe it’s the weed, but you see a flash of.. disappointment cross over his features. But that couldn’t be it, you’re much more pathetic than he is, he wouldn’t be so upset over you having to leave..

Would he?

But as quickly as the disappointment was there.. It was gone. Poof. As if it had never even existed.

“That’s okay,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and handing your pen back to you so you can tuck it into your bag, until the next time you need another hit. His head picks up as you glance over to door, where his wife walks in, putting her things down. He glances over to you, “Let me walk you home.” He offers.

You smile gently, standing up with him. You don’t say much as you make your way to gather your things from the front door, making pleasant conversations with his wife as he waited for you to get your shoes on. Soon enough, you’re making the quiet walk back to your house, and you’re accepting the swirling mess that is your emotions—Sure, he’s married, technically your boss, way older than you, and most definitely able to read you like a book, but there’s something about him that makes you forget all of that.

Maybe it’s just the general look of him—the salt and pepper hair, the stubble that’s just a bit too long, the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, the way his hands have just a few wrinkles and are covered in scars (from what, you do not know), the feeling of his hand on your thigh or the way his pink lips blew smoke into yours, the way his pants hug the curve of his ass, or maybe, you pathetic college student, maybe it’s the shine of his shoes, professional but just begging you to ride them.

Jesus, you’re too high for this.

But you’re almost certain that what did you in, the roots of your delusion, is the way he squeezed your hand the first time you met. You think, with the upmost affection, that your handshake was the most intimate two strangers could get on a Sunday in the blazing sun, the hypnotic daze of the light shining through the stained-glass windows of the church finally wearing off.

You want to tell him as much, to tell him that you haven’t gone a day without thinking about him since that day, that no amount of college students who ask you out for coffee have been able to drown out the sound of his voice in the back of your head, that the deepest, darkest, most insignificant part of you thinks that he might leave his wife for you.

But the walk home is silent.

You say nothing, but you listen to his breathing, calm, steady. You’re envious. Sure, he’s blind, but there is quite literally no part of you that doesn’t betray you, that doesn’t give you away.

He stops at the end of your driveway, and you hold your breath, waiting for him to speak. You can tell he has something to say, by the way he inhales, lips just barely parted. Sure, you’ve been an English major for years, but you’ve quickly picked up a minor in Matt Murdock studies.

“If I made you uncomfortable tonight, I’m sorry.” He starts, and your brows furrow in confusion.

“I’m—You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you promise. If anything, even though you were the one who said it was time to go, there’s a twinge of disappointment in your throat.

“Still—I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or anything..” He starts, “Just.. Have a goodnight.” He smiles gently, his hand slowly, all too slowly, sliding off your arm as he steps away, but in a moment of, possibly THC induced, boldness, you grab his hand as he stands, arm outstretched to you. His sightless eyes hold onto you.

“You aren’t even gonna kiss me goodnight?” You ask, your voice vulnerably hopeful.

His lips twitch up in a smirk, pausing for a second, his head tilted in the most curious way. Like he’s waiting for the perfect moment. Then, he pulls your hand towards him so now you’re the one with the extended arm, like the two of you are dancing, pulling each other back and forth with an intensity birthed from desperation.

He brings your hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of it, something straight out of a fairytale. But just as quickly, he gently drops your hand, his eyes blazing with affection.

“We’re okay?”

“We’re okay.” You confirm with a soft smile, not wanting to dwell on any uncertainty that’s between the two of you. To accept that there is any uncertainty at all would be to accept the chance that this is as far as you two will get—lingering crushes and the ghost of a pair of lips on your hand.

He waits until you get back into your house, then walks down the sidewalk back towards his house, putting the idea of you in the trunk that sits in his armoire, only in the back of his mind, next to his old suit, his old friends, and his old life.

On Monday, you get to the Murdock’s house after Matt and his wife have gone to work, but before Lucas has woken up.

On the counter, a tiny envelope sits, your name typed onto the envelope. You tear it open, finding a freshly bought cartridge for your pen. A note falls out of the envelope, and it’s.. in braille.

You sneak into Matt’s office, pulling out a braille dictionary, and you quickly figure out that the note says, ‘We’re okay?’

In the middle of his work day, Matt gets a text.

‘We’re okay.’

When you tell your mom you got invited to go out with some friends from high school, she nearly jumps with excitement. You weren’t exactly popular in High School—that’s not really something you hide, since you’re now going into your senior year of college and you can admit that you were something of a loser in high school..

And in college. But, at your college, that’s more normal and even encouraged, so you run with it.

But your stomach churns at the idea of hanging out with the girls that you hung out with in high school—Wasn’t one of them married?

You knew from your mom, mostly, that the three girls from high school stayed very much in touch throughout their time in college. They were always closer to each other than you were with them, but you know that wasn’t really their fault. They were dumb teenagers just like you.

Maybe not inviting you to hangout outside of school was a side effect of being a seventeen-year-old, as so many things were.

You tell her that you have no interest in going out with them, but she tells you that you should have some friends at home! You want to tell her that having no friends was one reason why you went away to school, but instead, you text them back, asking what they had in mind.

So that’s how you end up in a bar two towns over, liquor burning the back of your throat, your head pounding and your ears aching. Your face twists into despair as you swallow the shot, not feeling as good as your ‘friends’. You’ve never been a fan of drinking, even feeling guilty when you took your first shot of communion wine when you were 8.

Your friends start giggling and laughing as you try to keep up with the conversation, a little lost, a sinking feeling in your stomach as you poke at the ice in your empty glass with a straw.

Then, the bartender comes over to you, placing your drink of choice in front of you, your friends pausing their conversation as she does.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t order that,” You say politely, smiling awkwardly to her. You wish you were underage, you wish you were anywhere but here, you wish—

“Actually, the gentleman at the bar got it for you,” she smiles, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, glancing at the bar and—

Warmth explodes in your chest, your heart beginning to thump loudly in your ears.

Your friends laugh a bit, shoving your shoulders gently, teasing you.

“You have to go talk to him,” One starts, and another picks up,

“He’s hot!” You smile shyly down to the drink in front of you and nod,

“Fine.” You hum, picking up the drink and walking over to where Matt sits at the bar, sipping a whiskey on ice. You sit next to him, and for a moment, neither of you say anything, and then his head turns to you.

“Why are you here with people you don’t like?” he asks, and you just blink in surprise.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your friends. You don’t like them.” He says, and you just blush, embarrassed.

“How do you know that?” You ask, and he shrugs, taking a sip of his drink.

“You’re just.. quieter than usual.” He says honestly, sending you a sympathetic smile. You feel seen in the worst way possible. It’s like you’ve spent your entire life hiding, and Matt can see you for exactly what you are. Your face burns with embarrassment, taking another sip of your drink.

“Can we just flirt and almost fuck like we usually do?” You wonder.

“That makes it sound so much more.. casual than it is.” He pouts, and you just laugh, already feeling more relaxed than you had been before. And it isn’t even because of the alcohol, or so you suspect.

“What are you doing in a bar two towns over?” You ask, unsure how to respond to his comment about the casualness of your.. relationship, although that’s a rather strong word for what you two have.

“I was meeting with a client in town,” he responds, “Thought I’d stop for a drink before going home.” He says, and all you can find to respond is,

“Won’t your wife be mad at you for getting a drink when you could be home?” And he laughs, like you said something funny or cute.

“No, when she says she’s working late, she’s probably getting a drink and hooking up with someone. I thought I’d try it.” He smirks, and your face flushes. This is not a man who has any pure or holy intentions, and that absolutely turns you on. You have so little inhibition at this point that you simply lean forward, grab his tie, and pull him in for a long kiss.

Your nose twitches at the smell of vanilla, mixed with a bit of the whiskey, but quickly followed by just a hint of lemon. His hand quickly finds your waist, causing your posture to straighten as he kisses you deeper, his other hand trailing up your thigh, just like that first day outside the church.

The bar is dingy, so no one cares when he pulls away to finish his drink, then, straightens out his tie (which might kill you), and then he stands up, taking your hand in his.

“Let’s go,” he says quickly, pulling you along to the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. On the way there, your friends whistle and hoot, and while your face flushes, Matt does not seem to even notice. He opens the bathroom door without hesitation, like he knows it will be empty.

And the bathroom is.. disgusting. It’s dingy, dirty, but the sink looks.. clean enough. As soon as the door is closed behind you, Matt has you against it, his hands exploring your body as he kisses you, your hands instinctively going to his hair, as if you’ve done this a million times before.

His kisses are gentle, but invasive, like he wants to taste every single inch of your mouth with his tongue, and you happily let him. His fingers slip beneath your skirt, creeping up, finally finding the waistband of your panties, and he hums against your lips as if to shush you when you whine at the contact, his fingers slipping right under them to touch your throbbing cunt—It’s the type of warmth he’ll chase during cold, snowy days come winter.

His lips begin to attack your skin, kissing your jaw and your neck as he rubs circles into your clit, sucking up the breathy moans that escape your lips as he touches you. You’re soaking wet, and he wonders if you’ve ever been with anyone who knows where your clit is.

His fingers don’t even slip inside you, they just rub your clit with the attention it deserves, Matt taking your moans and how your hands grip his shirt as payment. But the movement of his fingers are too much for you, and before you know it, you’re squeezing your eyes tight, hands tangled in his clothes and hair, as you reach your first orgasm of many brought to you by the man.

He continues to rub your clit as you come down from that high, your breath getting more even, despite the way your skin burns and cum drips down your thighs. Then, he kisses you, jarringly soft—

“All that over some attention from my fingers?” He teases, that shit eating grin on his face. Part of you wants to tell him to fuck off, defend yourself, but you recognize, as does he, that he holds all the power in this dynamic.

“If I say yes, will you fuck me properly?” Because ‘make love’, despite what your mother and aunts always said, doesn’t seem proper. You two aren’t in love.. you’re in lust for this man—Or at least, you’re telling yourself that because of how desperately you want his cock inside you.

“I guess you’ll have to try it and find out.” He says, as if he’s not hard, his cock twitching in his pants at every little whiff he gets of you.

“Yes.” You hum, “All that over your fingers,” And he just smirks before asking,

“Anything else?”

“…Please?” And it seems to be the magic word, because he leans forward and kisses your cheek before adding,

“Good girl.” And at how excited that makes you, Matt finds himself practically fumbling for the condom he had put in his wallet the day he met you, but as soon as you realize it, you’re grabbing at his hands, trying to take it out of his hands, and his free hand finds your chin, gripping it just tightly enough to make your brain feel fuzzy, “What? What is it, baby?” he asks, and you have to take a moment before you respond,

“I’m on the pill, we don’t need a condom,” And a part of Matt’s brain that never quite grew out of the Catholic upbringing in which he was raised wants to remind you of all of the complications that could come with that, but another, stronger and more tempting part of his brain, the devil part of his brain thinks about the feeling of being buried deep inside of you, in the middle of this dingy fucking bathroom, with your ‘friends’ waiting outside, and he literally tosses the condom on the floor.

No words are spoken as he kisses you again, his hand that was holding the condom now working on unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, his free hand simply holding yours—perhaps the most romantic thing a man has ever done for you.

Eventually, your panties are rolled down to your ankles, and he pulls you just to the edge of the sink so you’re hanging onto him for dear life, and he just kisses you, and in between kisses he says, “Shh, shh, I’ve got you, just like that,”, and you trust him.

He pulls away from kissing you, to take your chin in his hand one more time and demand your attention.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he starts, “And it might hurt at first, but we’re gonna go slow, okay?”

“Okay,” and he kisses your forehead, strikingly loving compared to the situation that you have found yourself in. You wait, anticipation dripping down your thighs, before Matt slowly pushes himself inside of you, and as he fills you up, you moan into his skin.

There’s a part of Matt that starts shaking at the feeling of how tight you are around him. He lets out a low groan, his breath hot against your neck, as he bottoms out inside of you, his finger twitching a bit, aching to fuck you so intensely you’ll forget your own name..

But he resists, waiting for your grip on him to loosen softly,

“We’re okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“We’re okay,” You breath out, ready for him to move.

“Yeah, I know, baby, we’re okay,” he purrs, before slowly, agonizingly slowly, beginning to thrust in and out of you, only encouraged by your moans as they begin to pick up, thrusting into you faster, unable to resist the way you clench around him.

Your fingers barely scrape over his skin as he thrusts into you, his lips kissing your skin. He wants to tease you, he wants to tell you that you’re so dirty, letting a grown man fuck you in a dingy bathroom, but he finds himself lost in your warmth, unable to provide you with the dirty talk that he has dreamt of giving you for months.

But.. this is better. This is a well put together man, who falls apart at the feeling of your cunt, who shudders at the feeling of your hands on his, who tears apart at the seams of his being when your lips touch his. It’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to being an artist, mending and molding him with your hands.

It’s mesmerizing, and if you could, you’d stay here forever, letting him fuck into you like it’s his god damn job, slowly becoming faster, harder, more intense, never letting up, so you decide to push him—

“Need you to come inside me,” You pant out, and Matt won’t ever admit it to you, but he almost comes right then and there, not even bothering to give you a warning. Almost.

“I will, baby,” He hums, kissing your neck as sweat glistens his forehead, trying to push himself, trying to fuck you like you deserve, like he knows you deserve, his thrusts unrelenting.

Your thighs begin to shake as you claw at him, your breath catching in your throat.

“Matt- Please, oh my god—” You whine, “I’m gon—”

“Yeah, I know, baby, You’re squeezing around me so well,” He purrs, “C’mon, you can cum, you just gotta let go for me,” He advises, “C’mon, show me how good I’m making you feel,” And as you creep closer to the edge, your heart thumps loudly in his ears- You can’t help yourself. You’re sort of taken by the fact that when he’s breathless like this, you can hear his New York accent twinge out of him..

And that might just be what pushes you over the edge.

You cum with a moan, shuddered into his ear, panting as he keeps thrusting into you. The only time your mind wanders is rather briefly, as the way the stained glass windows looked in your church on the day you met him.

He lets out a soft whimper as he bathes in the feeling of you coming around his cock, the feeling of your hands in his hair, the feeling of your breath against his neck—he’s actually falling apart, and his thrusts only stutter as he comes inside you, deep deep within you.

Neither of you say anything as your hips pathetically roll, and he leads you down from your high as he slows his thrusts. For a moment, you both need to sit in the silence of your breathing..

And then, you start to laugh.

He laughs with you.

“What’s so funny?” He asks through laughs, tracing the side of your face with his hand, and you just laugh harder.

“You’re just..” You find the words, “You just exceeded my expectations is all,” and it’s so funny to him, that that’s where your mind goes after he fucked you so well. You’re adorable, he thinks, and he needs to keep you like this forever, stuck in time with his cum dripping down your legs.

When you both come down to earth, finally, he kisses you and says gently, “Let’s get you cleaned up,” And you happily oblige him.

He helps you off the sink, steadying you with his arms as your legs shake, holding onto him like a newborn deer, unsure of your movements.

But soon enough, you’re stable enough to stand on your own and the dawning realization hits you— you just ran away from your friends to go fuck a married man. And.. there’s so little regret—really, there’s nothing much at all that you feel besides an aching in your core for more.

He squeezes your arm gently, before asking,

“Feeling okay, honey?” he asks gently. And you just grin at him.

“Never better.”

So, funny enough..

You get grounded after your night out.

“Grounded?” Matt laughs as you tell him that, not at all caring that he has you sitting on his office desk, hands wandering your thighs, “You’re twenty one, how’d they ground you?” He ponders, and you huff.

“Well, my fuckin’ friends were telling their parents about this hookup I had in the bar, and their parents told mine, and they got mad at me—So now I’m only allowed to go to work, and then go home.” You huff.

Matt smirks against your skin, kissing your neck. He pulls back and grips your chin, tilting your head up to look to him, his thumb slipping into your mouth, pressing your tongue down.

“What’re you gonna do all summer, stuck in your big bad bosses house?” he asks, and you just roll your eyes as your face reddens. “Don’t worry, pretty thing,” he says gently, planting a long kiss to your jaw, “Your old man is gonna take good care of you.”

And you know he means it, too.

One weekend, your parents go away. They trust you won’t have any boys over, not even considering the idea that you’d have Mr. Murdock over.

He has his arm wrapped around you as you lay in bed, mumbling something soft in your ear. You roll over, admiring him for a minute, the way his eyes look.. he’s so pretty. You reach out and gently touch the skin around his eyes, noticing the scarring around his eyes.

“Hm?” You question, tilting your head. You didn’t quite hear him. He looks at you for a long time before responding,

“I think you’re hard of hearing,” And you can tell by the tone of his voice that he means it. “I’ve noticed it a lot, you always miss things when you aren’t looking right at people, and you’re always asking people to repeat themselves. There’s nothing wrong with that, I just.. You should be able to get the resources you need to help with that.” He shrugs, like it isn’t the most observant anyone’s ever been of you.

You lean in and kiss him, for a long time, your hand on his cheek. When you pull away, you take a second to breath before kissing him again.

“What was that for?” He eventually asks, a smile on his face.

“I just..” You shrug, “No one’s ever really noticed anything like that about me.” You feel seen, in a way that pulls at your heart. He smiles gently to you, kissing your forehead before responding,

“All I’ll ever want is for you to feel seen.”

The end of the summer comes a lot faster than you would’ve liked. You had a great summer, you tell yourself, you spent a lot of time at work with Lucas, smoking weed, sitting under the stars, and being with Matt.

But, as your move in date for your senior year approaches, and you begin to start packing, an anxiety starts to creep into you.

How will you say goodbye to him?

Neither of you have discussed what will happen when that day comes, but it looms over you like doomsday. Each day that passes, you get hit harder and harder with the realization that summer will end, and nothing will be the same.

And eventually, though you will and pray it does not, the day comes.

It’s hot. Blaring hot, hotter than you would’ve liked. Even as the sun begins to set, there’s a brutality to the air that does not provide any relief.

You’ve already said goodbye to Lucas and Matt’s wife, so now, you just sit on your front porch, staring at the house down the street. When the door to the house opens, you advert your eyes like you’ve been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

Soon after, you pick your head up to see Matt approaching you. He smiles to you, and you try to smile back, but your heart aches with the knowledge that this will be the last time you see him until.. well, you aren’t sure when. You stand up to meet him at the end of your driveway.

“All packed?” he asks. You scoff softly.

“Something like that.” You shrug, and he smiles.

“What’re you still missing?” You answer before you can stop yourself.

“You.” You say, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. Immediately, his arms are around you, overheating you in the late August weather, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. He holds you gently, as if you’ll break when he lets go, crying into your shoulder. His hand rubs your back as he gently shushes you.

“It’s okay,” he says gently, “I’ll be here when you get back.” He promises, and you know he’s right. But for the first time, leaving your home will be hard, and you do not know what to do about it, other than buy a candle that might smell like him.

You stay like that for a long time, longer than you care to admit, before he slowly pulls away. You look to him for a few minutes, before he kisses your forehead. He hands you an old Columbia tee shirt of his, one that smells just like him, and you clutch it like your life depends on it.

“We’re okay?” He asks gently, and even if it’s a lie, you nod, and respond,

“We’re okay.”

Fall

Adjusting to dorm life comes back to you quicker than you would’ve thought, despite your heartbreak that came with living. You and your friends fill your time with studying, smoking, and doing anything you can to distract yourself from the aching in your chest.

But, you can’t deny, that on nights where it’s too hot to sleep, you scroll through Facebook—yes, Facebook of all things, looking at photos of Matt, getting just small glances into his life from two hundred miles away.

And as the time melts away, you become more and more.. numb to the pain that stung so intensely.. But you also spend a lot of time looking for the cologne that he wore, and you won’t deny that when your roommate leaves for the weekend, you spend hours in the memories of the summer, with your hand between your legs, aching for just a bit of the pleasure he gave you.

You almost have a heart attack when your mom asks you to come to church with her while you’re home for fall break. Of course you’ll go, of course it’ll be your pleasure, mainly because you’re hoping—maybe even praying for him to be there.

When that Sunday comes, you spend an hour getting ready. You know that Matt is blind and won’t care, but maybe a part of you believes you need to dress all pretty for him. You even wear the sundress you wore for Easter Sunday.

Your thighs are already slick with heat when you get there, and your eyes scan the crowd for Matt.. and when you eventually find him, your breath hitches in your throat, just like the first night you felt him inside you.

You grin as you see him, all by himself, at the back of the church. You excuse yourself from your parents, making your way back to him like it’s your god damn birthday you’re so excited.

But as soon as you approach him, someone calls his name behind you—an old friend or maybe a coworker, and Matt walks toward you, and you open your mouth to say something your eyes following him, and then—

He walks right past you, avoiding you completely. Your face falls with disappointment, your heart sinking. Maybe.. he just didn’t realize it was you. Maybe. You don’t know, but it messes with your head throughout all of the service.

You and your family are sitting more towards the back, while Matt and his family sits in front of you—You watch him like it’s your damn job, waiting, waiting, Until—

He gets up, quietly making his way towards a door to the side, one that will lead downstairs and to a restroom. You begin to count to sixty, waiting so very patiently, before quietly excusing yourself, and following him down the stairs.

As soon as you open the basement door, Matt is pulling you further into the basement, to a deep dark corner, and immediately, you’re pressed against the wall, his mouth on your neck. You moan softly as your hands find his hair, tugging on it, as his hands begin to explore your thighs like a starving man.

“Matt—” You go to say, but his hand clamps over your mouth as his free hand tugs off your panties, his hand cupping your cunt as you roll your hips, desperate for more contact than that.

“You gonna behave for me, pretty thing?” He grumbles, and you nod against his hand, so he bites down on your shoulder, “There we go,” He mumbles, his hand coming off your mouth to pull your panties down, before working on his belt and his zipper.

Your hands work at his hair, trying to cope with the fact that he is not being gentle, in fact, he seems to be purposefully mean, like he’s trying to see if you can even take it. This is nothing like when he first fucked you—this is a fucking that is making you see stars, and will leave you in tears.

Two of his fingers spread you open, making sure that you’re ready for him to fuck you. When he decides he is, still kissing your neck, he thrusts into you quickly—unapologetically. He doesn’t care about much else besides chasing that feeling of you clenched around him. He bottoms out inside you and moans against your neck.

Then, his thrusts start. He doesn’t even pretend to start slow, immediately he is thrusting into you, harder than he had in months, relishing in the feeling and the sound of his skin slapping against yours.

“Missed your tight cunt,” He mumbles into your ear, “Missed how well you take me,” he hummed, his pace relentless. He’s trying to satisfy his cravings for you, but his attempt is messy and he’s losing his mind over the idea of not being able to fuck you for another few months.

“I’m—” You whine, your hair falling into your face, your brain fuzzy, “I’m gonna—” He coos softly as he grips your chin with his free hand.

“C’mon, pretty thing, cum for me—” And just like that, you do. You absolutely do. You don’t hold back, and as soon as he feels you clenching around him, he’s coming too. You don’t know what else to do other than let him ride his high. When he pulls out, his hand comes back to your thighs, beginning to gently massage the mess the two of you had made into your thighs, pulling your panties back up so that for the rest of the service, you kind of just.. have to sit with that.

Your hands stay in his hair as he cleans the pair of you up, and you lean in to kiss him, and he lets you, but.. he doesn’t really kiss you back. And it breaks your heart. Your eyebrows furrow, as you reach for him like a child, and he just grabs your hands, “Just.. relax, okay?” He sighs.

“Why are you being like this?” You ask, “You’re..” You struggle to find the words as he buckles his pants, ignoring your gaze. There’s something inside him that’s stopping him from being affectionate towards you, that reminds him that you’ll be heading back off to school in a day or two and his heart will break all over again.

“Go back upstairs, Honey,” he says, but you shake your head.

“No, stop ignoring me—”

“Now.” He says firmly, ignoring the nauseating feeling as the saltiness of your tears fill his senses.

“Fuck. You.” you spit out, and he’s not angry with you for your reaction. It’s valid, of course. He knows why you’re angry, he just fucked you lovelessly, in the basement of the church where you first met.

He doesn’t say anything.

But he listens to the angry sniffles and foot stomps as you make your way back upstairs.

Matt’s neglect made you turn a new corner, and as soon as you get back to school, you find yourself constantly working and studying. You can’t possibly think about the intensity of his thrusts, the sternness of his voice.

You can’t talk about it, you can’t talk to any of your friends about the way you fell in love with a married man, you can’t talk to your parents about how you developed such intense feelings for the man who lives down the street..

So, you study.

On Halloween, you get a little too fucked up.

You drink an intense amount, needing to wash away the anger you have for Matt. At some point, you’re sitting in your bathroom floor, leaning against your wall.

Matt does not answer your call.

But you listen to his voicemail like it’s a sermon.

Winter

After Halloween, you begin to drink water every day, you eat more balanced meals, and you cut back on your substances. Truly, you know you need to make a change. And you do—school work becomes less of a coping mechanism and more of your job again. You mostly focus on enjoying your senior year.

But as the winter creeps in, you shop around for a gift for Lucas, fondly remembering your time with the young boy, despite your interaction with his father back in October. You store the gift away and focus on your finals. By the time you make it home, you’re exhausted.

You sleep most of the day on the 22nd, and then on the 23rd, you spend your day unpacking and helping your mom get ready for Christmas. Before you go to bed, you wrap Lucas’ present, and store it away, not caring much to deliver it any time soon.

You tell yourself you’ll drop it off tomorrow, and you aren’t sure if you’d rather come face to face with Matt, or his wife. The walk takes seemingly forever, and you feel anxious the whole way there.

You knock on the door, and wait with baited breath.. When Matt opens the door, your breath catches. He looks really good—A grey button up and dark jeans. You just smile at him.

“Hey,” You breath, “Uhm, I was just.. I wanted to give this to Lucas.. Is he here?” You question, not knowing where else he’d be on Christmas Eve.

“Oh, he’s actually staying at his moms today,” And your head darts up.

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah,” Matt says somewhat sheepishly, “We’re.. Separated. In the process of getting divorced.” He confesses.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” He chuckles, “I guess It was inevitable.”

“Well.. Then I guess you’re not doing anything tonight, huh?” You wonder, and he nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll probably just have a drink and listen to Christmas music.” He chuckles. You ache for him to invite you over. But you don’t get to tell him that before he says, “I’m so sorry about.. October.” He sighs gently, rubbing his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” You say gently,

“No. It’s not. I was a dick, and you didn’t deserve that. I really am sorry.”

“I got over it,” You shrug.

“So.. We’re okay?” He offers.

You smile.

“Yeah. We’re okay.”

“Good. Because I’d really like to take you out sometime. Like, a real date.” He offers, and your face flushes.

“Yeah, that would be really nice..” You grin.

“No more sneaking around?”

“Well.. Maybe from my parents.. And it is kind of sexy,” You grin, taking a step up further onto his porch.

“Yeah?” He laughs, his hand coming down to rest on his waist. “Maybe that could be arranged.” He hums.

“Good,” You hum, and then you open your mouth to add, but he cuts you off.

“Do you want to stay for dinner? Tell your parents you’re keeping your old man company?” He hums, and your face flushes.

“I’d really like that.”

“That’s my baby,” He hums, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

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