Clinging onto the metal bars high up, observed you, your targets. You watched at least ten men walk around the warehouse. Wooden crates were scattered around. One of the men in suits, pointed at one the crates. A slimmer man revealed a crowbar, breaking the wooden panel. Intrigued, leaned you a bit forwards to get a better look. The man was grinning, taking out a weapon. So that was what they were shipping. Of course these were Kingpin’s men. Sudden grunts caught your attention as they came from somewhere in the back. You gasped seeing an injured man being crashed against one of the crates. Kingpin’s men started shouting, drawing their guns.
It didn’t take any seconds for the warehouse to be noisy with gunshots. A dark figure came in sight, moving stealthy. From the way he was moving, knew you he was interfering. – “Oh, no you don’t!” – said you to yourself, getting up to your feet. You clamped onto the first metal bars, setting your foot on the third one. You helped yourself up, setting your two feet on top. Beneath you was the other vigilante having his way. Blocking gunshots and kicking kingpin’s men. You set yourself off, doing a backflip. Landing on your one knee, struck you a pose, cause why not. Some of Kingpin’s men shouted, pointing firmly at you.
You got up with not a scratch. Shots were fired at you, making you avoid them by staying low to the ground. Getting back up, stood you before the guy. You had taken a hold of his weapon, pointing it firmly up. He tried to work his way through your force with no help. You winked at him before throwing a blow against his stomach. Your hands releasing a bit of energy. The guy flew across the room, crashing into the wall that left a large crack from where his body hit. – “Oops.” – said you innocently, holding his gun sloppy in your hand. You threw it away with a mischievous smile. Another henchman came running over to you as you firmly grabbed him by the throat.
You easily lifted him up from the ground, his feet dangling. The devil was caught off guard, suddenly a new sense overwhelming him. He moved his head a bit to the sounds, trying to listen in. He had clearly heard the blow against the wall. He inhaled sharply, hearing another heartbeat. Steady and calm. Clenching his jaw, knew the devil that he wasn’t alone anymore. Someone had shown up, trying to steal his work. Grunting agitated, grabbed he a guy by his throat, smacking him to the ground. It pissed him off that someone else was trying to play hero.
You ignored Hell’s kitchen’s devil, working your way through Kingpin’s men. Shots were fired as you did a few backflips, avoiding them. With no way of seeing where you were going, straightened you your back again, bumping into someone. – “Sorry!” – you called out, peeking over your shoulder at the red leather fabric of a suit. You only heard a clearly annoyed sigh, followed by him grabbing a hold of your shoulders. You shrieked it out, getting thrown over his shoulder, falling onto the ground. – “Stay down!” – breathed he at you, his chest moving heavily with his deep breathing. You shuddered in pain, rolling over to your side. Damn the devil had some moves.
The devil turned himself around as you swung your leg over the floor at him. It hit his ankle, sending him falling flat forwards. He pushed himself up with a deep groan. Touché thought you. He was clearly agitated now as he was ready to teach you a lesson or two, was it not for the few remaining men of Kingpin that required his attention. They were making an escape for it with some crates. You saw him turn his head to the direction of the sounds, without actually looking it. It was more like his ear needed to see then his eyes. He spurted away, going after them as you slowly pulled yourself up. Brushing some dust of your sleeves, allowed you him to take down the last men.
You saw it coming but let him have his go on it. He pushed you with his elbow against the wall. You chuckled in pain from the impact. – “Who are you?” – called he out, pushing his arm deeper onto your throat. You weren’t letting him intimidate you. – “Who’s asking.” – replied you, moving your lips closer to his. He could feel your breath on his lips, making him shudder away. – “What are you doing here?” – asked he then. – “Same as you.” – answered you calmly. He didn’t answer back, just looked at you. observed you. He moved his head a bit to the side, so that his ear was closer to you. You swallowed a bit, finding the silence a bit tense.
He suddenly smiled, turning his head towards you again. He let go of you, turning his back on you. – “Hell’s kitchen has no place for you!” – stated he, making very clear to you that he worked alone. You removed yourself from the wall, creeping up on him. – “I wouldn’t mind dancing…” – started you, coming to stand behind him. Very close that your chest was almost touching his. Moving your hand up, wanted you to let it slide down his shoulder. – “with the devil.” – finished you in his ear, your hand hovering over his shoulder to go towards his chest. With a quick grip had he his hand around your wrist. It startled you a bit, catching you off guard. He spun himself around, a dark grin on his lips. He took a step closer to you, his face inches away from your head.
You breathed out slowly, feeling his breath on your jawline. – “Believe me…” – whispered he to you. – “You couldn’t handle a night with the devil.” – your entire body shuddered from the tension he was releasing on you. It made him smirk, your heart pounding like a maniac. Before you knew it had he reached one of the broken windows. He sat on the frame, looking over his shoulder to you. – “Stay out of it!” – called he out to you, disappearing into the night. You puffed loud, crossing your arms. – “Who does he think he is?” – called you out loud, speaking to yourself and some unconscious men. – “As if he is the only one with a vendetta against Kingpin.” – scoffed you out. Hearing sirens in the distance, took you, your leave as well. Disappearing into the night. For it would not be your last night. No one was going to stop you, not even a devil who had such dare.
***
With heavy rain in your face, were you running stealthily over the rooftops. A guy who moved like a freaking ninja in pursuit. You jumped over a metallic pipe, slowing your tempo a bit down. The guy in pursuit, almost flew over it, making you gasp loud. You ran up to the end of the rooftop, being surprised by a fall to death. You gripped onto the edge, looking down at the deep alleyway below. Of course there was the fire-escape hanging on the side of the building, but it was too low for you to reach. You quickly turned around, standing face to face with one of Kingpin’s trusty men. He pointed his knife at you, luring you out. You took a few steps closer to him, readying yourself to fight him. You motioned for him to approach you as you were ready to take him on.
Just as he was about to run over, was he suddenly gone. The devil standing in his place, grunting loud. You saw Kingpin’s man rolling over the rooftop, being hit by the devil himself. – “I told you to stay out of it!” – called he out, pointing at you as his face was still facing Kingpin’s man on the ground. – “And I decided to ignore that stupid ass decision.” – replied you, hearing him chuckle. – “I’m not going to ask you again! Back off!” – yelled he out, this time turning his head towards you. – “We’ll see about that.” – said you, running up to him. You kicked him in the stomach, releasing a blow of energy on him. The devil got throw almost across the rooftop, smacking against the other edge.
You tilted your head a bit to the side, focusing your attention on kingpin’s men. – “We weren’t finished yet.” – said you, cracking your knuckles. You readied your fist, feeling the energy flow through your veins, building up in one spot. Your hand started to glow in a shade of white. You screamed it out when you received a blow against your cheek. You stumbled down, seeing the devil hover over you. – “What are you?” – asked he of you, clearly still trying to figure you out. You got up to your feet, calling it out as you lashed out to him. He easily blocked your punch, standing face to face with you.
Pulling yourself away, went you for another round. He easily blocked it as well. You threw in a kick, making him catch your leg before it could hit his body. You hadn’t been storing any energy in those limbs, so your punches weren’t as strong as before. He suddenly pushed you away from him just as kingpin’s man waved with his knife in the direction of both of you. His knife landed in the space between you, leaving the devil to grab his arm. With a punch of his elbow, released he his grip on the knife. You gritted your teeth, not finished with the devil, throwing a punch at him. He easily predicted what you were going to do, pulling the guy before him like a human shield.
You hit him in the stomach, sucking the air out of his lungs. The devil then tossed him aside, kicking you back. You stumbled backwards against the edge of the rooftop. – “You really want a go at this?” – asked he, motioning with his hand for you to come closer. Wiping your nose with the back of your hand, got you back up. – “I do!” – spitted you back, not wanting to give him the pleasure. He curled up a smile, readying himself. You did the same, walking in a circle with him. Almost like a dance. You clenched your hand, collecting your energy in your fist.
You noticed a slight change in the devil’s body language as if he sensed what you were doing. You called it out, going for him. The devil did the same, ready with his fist. The two of you were about to clash when Kingpin’s man made his debut again. You quickly staggered back, missing his knife by an inch. The devil kicked him in the face. The guy stumbled your way as you punched his other cheek, sending him wobbling back over to the devil. – “We make quite the team.” – breathed you out. You swore you could see a tiny smile on his lips. – “Don’t push it!” – replied he, kicking the guy in his sheen. He sunk to the ground, calling it out in pain.
The devil went after you again. He wanted to make it clear to you that he worked alone. Taking much pride in it. He grabbed you by the shirt, your back leaning over the edge. – “I’m not saying this again!” – called he out, pushing your back firmer on the edge. You took a hold of his wrist, wanting to be sure that he wouldn’t suddenly let go. If he did, you would simply tip over the edge into the darkness. – “I don’t need you!” – the tone in his voice firmly as he spoke every word out slow and with a deeper meaning. Your heart rate went up at the sudden sense of danger. You were hanging on the edge, your life in the hands of another. – “Do you understand!” – continued he.
In a split second fell you weightless. Your body being held by feathers, your scream caught in your throat. Your mouth was wide open as your hands clawed desperately in the air, no sounds coming out of it. The devil had widened his eyes, feeling that his hands were empty. He came leaning over the edge, listening to your heartbeat. It was racing up in high speed, making him clench his jaw. Kingpin’s man had punched him with the back of his knife between his shoulders, releasing his grip onto you. You managed to hold onto a bar of the fire escape, breaking your fall a bit. The sudden snap made you release your grip, landing on the lower platform of the fire escape, squealing in pain. The devil jumped over the edge, landing on the highest platform.
He then made his way stealthily down, constantly focused on your heartbeat. He made it to where you were, kneeling beside you. – “Are you hurt?” – asked he worriedly. You gave him a push against his chest, not knowing what kind of charade he was putting on. – “You dropped me!” – yelled you at him. – “I…I…I didn’t meant to.” – answered he. You seated yourself down, putting pressure on your back. – “Right! How am I supposed to believe you didn’t just wanted to paralyze me, so I was out of your way.” – groaned you out, inhaling sharply from the pain.
“I’m not that cruel.” – responded he. – “Playing with the big boys is harder than it looks, right.” – added he with a slight bit of mockery towards you. You punched him in the shoulder to act out on him. You tried to stand as he quickly came to your aid. – “I don’t need your help!” – bit you at him, throwing his hand off your arm. You took a hold of the stairs, groaning in pain as you tried to make your way down. Your movement got pulled to a stop by a hand around your arm. – “Look you can’t be walking the streets like that!” – pointed he out, making you exhale deep. You spun around to him, sighing loud for him to hear. – “Well what would you have me do then?”
A large panel got slide aside as it functioned as a door. He gave you a small nudge in your shoulder, telling you to enter. You stumbled forwards as he pulled the ‘door’ to a shut. – “Make yourself at home.” – said he, walking casually around you. – “Who are you?” – questioned you, looking upon the most normal apartment. – “What, you think I lived in a cave or something with knifes hanging on the walls.” – chuckled he out, making you roll your eyes. – “No.” – answered you, stepping deeper into his apartment. – “just… different.” – you swallowed, moving slowly, biting through the pain. – “Sit!” – demanded he off you, pointing at his sofa. You limped your way over to it, letting yourself fall into the comfy seat.
You exhaled relieved, feeling some pressure released from your spine. He returned to you with a pack of ice, handing it over to you. – “You really gonna keep the mask?” – asked you curious. He pressed his lips together, turning his back to you. You shrugged your shoulders, placing the pack of ice against your back. You immediately shuddered in both pleasure and pain. He made his way over to his table, hesitating to take his mask off. He exhaled deep, bringing his hand to the back of his head. With one pull, tore he his mask off his face. Exposed and feeling a bit weird, breathed he out deep. Placing his mask down, was he still doubtful if it was a right thing to do.
Without thinking much further, walked he back over to you. He seated himself down. You noticed him, gulping silently at his handsome face. You had expected a messed-up face, scratches, and scars all over the place. Instead were you staring at a handsome young man with a clean face. - “A face! Does the face has a name as well?” – called you out loud, seeing him crack a tiny smile. – “Mine is Y/n if you were wondering.” – said you as first, letting him off the hook a bit. – “Matt.” – answered he. – “How’s the pain.” – asked he, pointing at you without looking away from the wall he was facing. – “It’s… it’s alright…” – replied you with a slight narrow of your eyes.
There was definitely something off about him. – “Why are you doing this?” – continued he to ask. – “I mean playing vigilante.” – you moved a bit uncomfortable, clenching your jaw at a sting of pain. – “I…I…” – you exhaled deep, looking down at your own lap. – “Kingpin hurt someone close to me…family… I’m not letting him get away with it that easily.” – Clenching your hand, channeled you subconsciously energy at your hand. Matt sensed it again, inhaling sharply. – “What is up with that?” – you blinked surprised, looking at your own hand as if seeing it for the first time. – “Oh…” – breathed you out. – “I’m… I’m what you call a mutant. I can channel any kind of energy through my body, releasing it with a good blow or so.”
“What’s up with you.” – shot you right back, wanting to know his deal as well. Matt swallowed slowly. – “I’m blind.” – confessed he. You hummed baffled. You leaned a bit closer holding your hand out. You wanted to poke him in the cheek with your finger to see if he truly was what he said he was. Before your hand even reached his cheek, had he his grip around your wrist. Not even moving an inch with his head. He pushed your hand down, getting up. – “You can spend the night here, but then you leave, Y/n.” – you watched him go into another part of his apartment.
Exhaling deep, sunk you deeper down into his sofa. Before the morning light were you gone already. Matt slowly awoke from his alarm. He stretched out, remembering he had let you in yesterday. He got out of his bed, walking into the grand living space. He couldn’t hear another heartbeat, making it certain that you had left. He exhaled deep, feeling a bit disappointed that you had left already. Frowning at his own thoughts, laughed he loud. He should be glad you were gone, for the devil works alone.
***
You jumped into an alleyway, thinking you were there first, but Matt landed in the same alleyway as you at the same time. – “You’ve got to be…” – mumbled you out, seeing Matt turn his head in annoyance at your presence. – “I told you to stay the hell away!” – called he out. You walked over to him, pausing close to his ear. – “I don’t listen very well.” – whispered you at him, continuing to strut away. Matt inhaled sharply, coming after you. You were making your way over to the building when a grip around your ankle, made you fall flat forwards. Matt walked past you, shrugging his shoulders.
Clenching your jaw, pushed you, your fist against the ground. Getting up quickly, ran you around the corner. Matt stood in the doorway, waving at you as he closed the door before him. It made you groan out loud annoyed that he kept getting in your way. The door wouldn’t budge as he must have blocked it. Letting all the energy flow towards your hand, clenched you, your grip. Wanting to make an entrance, punched you the brick wall. Clapping your hands together, walked you in, stepping over the crumbled bricks. – “Honey I’m home!” – called you out loud, wanting Matt to hear you.
You stood a bit lost in the dark room, wondering if there was even a fight going on. It wasn’t until you heard clear punches being sold, that you smirked. You made your way quickly up the stairs, seeing Matt already busy in the fight. He punched a guy in the face, making him stumble on his feet. You grabbed the guy by his shoulder pulling him towards you. Handing him one of your own punches, fell he to the ground. Matt turned to you stunned, like a lion that had just been stolen his piece of meat by a hyena. He turned his head swiftly to the side, listening in as someone approached him. He diverted him, allowing him to crash into you. You fell to the ground with the man laying on top of you.
“Huh, I guess not fast enough.” – joked he out with a deep chuckle. You pushed the man off you, wanting to punch him as Matt pressed his foot on the man’s stomach. He swayed his finger from side to side at you, telling you no. You called it out in annoyance that he kept proving to be better then you. You got up, walking away, letting Matt have his way with him. Matt felt a bit disappointed that he couldn’t taunt you anymore. You dodged knives and punches with such swiftness it almost seemed graceful. Matt and you were both stubborn in your fights, constantly trying to proof to be better than the other one.
Almost out of breath, delivered you a final blow. You turned your head, widening your eyes at a sudden heavy weapon. – “F*ck.” – breathed you out, seeing the weapon point at you. It was like a rocket launcher, ready to fire. Matt sprinted up to you, tackling you just when the rocket was launched. You smacked to the ground, rolling over with Matt’s arms around you. The rocket hit the wall, blowing a huge piece of the building up. Matt was laying on top of you, holding his head down, his lips close to your jawline. Crumbled pieces of building fell on top of him, shielding you from it. A wave of dust made its debut as well, coating the both of you.
Matt coughed loud, lifting his head a bit up, his lips inches away from yours. He froze, hearing your heart beat loud and clear. It was speeding up as he couldn’t ignore his own heart racing up as well. – “You okay Y/n?” – asked he, his breath against your lips which felt so intimate. You slowly nodded, answering afterwards as Matt couldn’t see what you did. He pulled himself up, leaving you breathless. He held his hand out to you as you took it, letting him pull you up. The guy with the rocket launcher threw the weapon away as it only had one hit. Matt puffed his chest up, clenching his jaw. He made his way over in a very intimidating way.
You followed close by, wiping some dust off your face. Matt grabbed the guy by his shirt. He smacked him against the wall, dragging him along it. He then released his grip onto him, sending him rolling on the floor. He made his way over, kicking him in the stomach. It turned you a bit on at how brutal he was handling him. When blood was gushing out of his nose, called you him to a stop. He stopped, his blooded fist, hovering the guy’s face. He let go of him as you moved by his side. You stared at Matt, feeling a sudden urge wanting to kiss him. He must’ve felt the same as he grabbed you.
He moved his hand to your shoulder, moving your hair up as he tried to reach your cheek, kissing you firmly. Your body shuddered at his kiss that felt so violent on your lips. Pulling him closer to your body, kissed you him deeper. Matt moved his thumb up towards your nose, trying to feel more of your features. Both of you pulled away out of breath. You nudged him with your hip. – “Does this mean we’re a team Matt?” – questioned you with a smile. Matt shook his head with a silly smile on his lips. – “I’ll think about it.” – whispered he out, cupping your cheeks to kiss you again.
A/N: Part 6 is here you beautiful people! Feedback and reblogs are much appreciated. And let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!
Summary: Imagine being an FBI agent and the daughter of Wolverine. You used to be a a black widow and Hydra assassin as well as a part of Bucky’s past, a past that he had forgotten over time, until one day, he sees your face shadowed behind the public eye, like an apparition, as if you didn’t exist. Confused over your existence and questioning whether what he saw was real, Bucky finds himself scrambling to search for clues that would lead to who you are and why he feels as if he had seen you before. You on the other hand had moved on, starting a new life for yourself and even finding yourself working with a certain lawyer. After the horrors you faced, you wanted to leave your past behind you, eventually forgetting mostly everything that ever happened. That is until the former Winter Soldier brings those memories all back.
Warnings: language, angst, blood and violence, and a slightly steamy scene towards the end. This chapter briefly mentions a crime scene that involves the assault and murder of a minor so read at your own risk.
It felt as if the world was swaying around you, shifting in and out of focus. Your head was spinning, reeling over and over with the name that was written across the card in maroon ink. That 5 letter name. Laura. There was only one person that went by the name Laura that you knew, and it was your sister. You had been too absorbed on the events before; beginning with the things that Matt had said to you, then the body of the dead girl and the vision you had of her, and now your sister. It couldn’t be a coincidence, your sister’s name written across a card right after you investigated into the murder of the girl. It had to be be him, the killer, the same man that raped and killed that little girl and left her body out in the woods to rot. You knew it the moment when you picked it up, you could smell his perfume off the small piece of cardstock. What you didn’t know was how he had managed to sneak past the other feds and officers to get to your car. And how he had come to know about your little sister was beyond you. You had worked hard to keep everything about your past a secret, and it seemed as if everything was slowly spilling out of the abyss you had locked those secrets in in the first place. First the confrontation with Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, and now that bastard who now had the deaths of 4 underage girls on his hand. Your sister’s name on that card was a threat. And you were going to get to him before he could get to her or anyone else ever again.
You arrived at your apartment after what had felt like days worth of driving, unlocking the door and slamming it behind you before hurriedly locking the special lock you had made for it.
“Hey. You okay?” Your heard Yelena’s voice speak up from where she sat on your armchair in the corner, setting her book down on the table once she saw the troubled look on your face as you went over to the window to search the streets. “Y/n?”
“Hm?” You turned towards her with a distant look behind your eyes. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“I thought we promised each other no more lies. We even made a pinky promise.”
“…….Sorry.” You shook your head, letting out an exasperated sigh and pinching the bridge of you nose.
“Y/n. Is something going on?” Yelena stepped up to you with a concerned look on her face as she placed a hand on your arm.
“I think Laura is in danger.”
“Your sister? Why? What happened?”
“Have you heard about those missing girls whose bodies were found in rivers?”
“Yes.” Yelena blinked, confused by why you were bringing this up as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I heard about it in the news.”
“Yeah well. I was called to investigate his new murder victim and when I left the crime scene I found this on my car.” You handed the card.
Yelena stared down at the card in her hands, her eyes running over Laura’s name with a clenched jaw.
“Tell me that’s not a coincidence.” You started to pace the room with your hands on you hips as sweat started to build at your forehead.
“How do you know it’s him?”
“I’m pretty damn sure it’s him. I can smell his stench off it. Clive Christian’s Original Collection.”
“Clive what?”
“It’s his cologne. I smelled the same thing off the girl’s dead body.”
“Do you know who it is?”
“Yeah, I looked him up on the way here. Some rich executive named Harrison Ross. The bastard is holding some kind of Gala tonight as if he didn’t just kill a little girl. Jesus fucking Christ……….How does he know about Laura?”
“Maybe he had someone follow you and overheard you talking about her?”
“Shit.” You shook your head, placing both your hands on top of your head, thinking back to the time that you had dinner with your dad at the pub. Considering how many people were there, it’s possible that any one of them could have been working for Ross. “This is all my fault.”
“What? No. None of this is your fault.”
“But still. If I had been more careful-” You stopped, turning towards your front door at the sound of footsteps.
“Who is it?” Yelena followed your gaze, her hand slowly reaching for her gun at her hip.
“It’s my dad, and Laura. They just got out of the elevator.” You breathed out before turning back to her. “Listen, I need you to look after Laura.”
“What, why? Y/n, what are you going to do?”
“What I have to do.”
“Am I supposed to know what that means.” Yelena hissed, making sure to keep her voice low so that your father would not overhear.
“Just promise me that you’ll look after her. My dad can’t know about this or else he’ll freak the fuck out and go on a rampage.” You grabbed Yelena’s hands. “Promise me you’ll do that.”
“……..Okay. I uh, I promise.”
“Thank you.” You gave her a hug before handing her a piece of paper. “I’m going to need you to take yourself and Laura to the address that’s on there.”
“Wait….isn’t this where-”
“Yeah I know. It’s the safest place you could be. Tell Stephen I owe him one.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’m just going to go to the Gala tonight and lock his ass up in jail and that’s it. I’ll be fine.” You reassured her, but the words seemed to hold no meaning, as if they were directed more towards you, a consolation of what tonight’s events might lead to, praying that whatever happened would lead to the better end of the alternatives. At this point, you weren’t so sure just what you were about to do.
Just a second later after you had finished your sentence, your front doorbell had rang. Taking in a deep breath and banishing the dark cloud that was held over your head, you went over to open it to see you father Logan and your little sister Laura standing out front.
“Hey kiddo.” Logan smiled at you.
“Look who it is.” You smiled back, going into his embrace as he kissed the top of your head.
“Geez.” Your father scrunched up his nose. “You smell like shit.”
“Yeah well you smell like cigars and cheap whiskey.”
“Hey.” Logan put his hands on his hips, amusement written on his face. “Sometimes the cheap stuff tastes better than that expensive fruit juice that you get.”
“I know my wines. You just have terrible taste.”
“I’m serious. You smell like you cuddled up to roadkill. The hell did you do, roll around in a cemetery?”
“I uh, just got back from a crime scene actually.”
“Sorry, sounds like shit. Who’s this?” Logan nodded behind you.
“Oh! Dad, you remember Yelena Belova.”
“Hi Y/n’s dad.” Yelena waved shyly before stuffing her hands in her pockets.
“Nice to meet you.” Logan gave her a polite nod before studying the features of your face. “Hey, you don’t look too good.”
“Huh? Yeah, I uh, haven’t been getting much sleep lately.”
“Something to do with your job huh. How’s the investigations?”
“Good. I mean, not good obviously because people are dead. But we have some leads and hopefully we’ll have the suspects apprehended before tomorrow.”
“Sounds like you need a vacation.”
“Bad guys don’t rest so neither do I.” You sighed, pushing back a strand of your loose hair before bending over to level yourself to your little sister with a soft smile. “Hey there Laura. How’s it going?”
"Laura say hi to your sister.” Logan gave her a small nudge.
You maintained the strained smile on your face, trying your best to seem as friendly as possible. You were happy to see her no doubt the less, especially since you never had much time to spend with her due to your work schedule and her being in school, but the look she gave you told you otherwise. Laura face was stoic underneath her sunglasses, and it seemed as if there wasn’t a single thought nor regard towards you in her eyes as she walked straight pass you into your apartment before plopping down on the couch without a single word in your direction, even ignoring Yelena’s little hello.
“Yup.” You popped your lips before standing back up. “She definitely hates me.”
"She doesn’t hate you. She’s just shy.” Logan quirked a brow at your pessimism before handing you her little suitcase. “Here’s all her things.”
“I’m pretty sure her eyes are filled with a deep resentment towards me behind those little sunglasses of hers. It’s like I shit in her bowl of cereal or something. Good thing she’s not Scott’s kid or else I would’ve been fucking obliterated by now.” You scoffed as you took Laura’s suitcase from him and set it to the side.
“If she hated you, we’d know. Just give her time.” Logan sighed. “She was like that towards me when I first met her. And watch your language around her. Don’t need her learning from our bad habits.”
“I’m sorry,” you sassed, holding your finger up to make a point, “but didn’t I just hear you say the poop word like two times now.”
“Yeah well I’m doing my best.”
“Well the resemblance is uncanny I’ll give you that.” You sighed as you rested your hand on your hip and turned back to see Laura sitting there with a scowl on her face. “The scowl, the brooding, the whole fuck off attitude and even right down to the eyebrows. She is 100% you’re kid.”
“Yeah and so are you.” Logan scoffed. “You nearly broke my nose when you first saw me, remember? And you’ve got a hell of a colorful language.”
“Looks like I got it from you.”
"Guess I raised you right then.” Logan chuckled. “You know, the professor position is still open back at the school. You wouldn’t have to put up with this anymore and you could finally get some damn good rest.”
"No, I know. You’ve mentioned it to me before but I just…I can’t just leave you know. Those criminals are still out there, hurting other people, innocent people.”
“What you mean to say is those badge wearing bastards have you in a chokehold.”
“Yeah well I could’ve been locked up forever for the crimes I committed.”
“Yeah, crimes you had no control over doing. Don’t those brains of theirs know those Hydra and Red Room bastards had you wired up.”
“It doesn’t work like that dad. And besides, I volunteered for this job, thought it would do me good.”
“Yeah, it’s doing you good alright. You look the same from when I first rescued you from Hydra, sleep deprived.”
“Well this isn’t exactly an easy job.” You snarked as you tried to maintain your point. “I knew what I signed up for dad. And to be honest, putting those criminals behind bars is worth every goddamn minute.”
“I know, I get it. I just don’t want you to get caught up in the same mess like I was. You’re still young.”
“Well I wouldn’t really call myself young.” You scoffed.
“I know that. There’s still time you know, for you to move on with your life and find something that doesn’t involve all this.” Logan leaned on your doorframe with his arms crossed. “I was thinking we all can move down to Canada. Build a home by the lake like you always wanted where you, me, and Laura can live in, together, as a family. You can even have all the animals you want.”
"I know. With mom gone it’s just-” You sighed, staring down at your hands and picking at the skin on your fingers. “I just….feel like I haven’t done enough for all the things that I had done, ya know?”
“If you keep letting the past haunt you and trying so desperately to go down that path of redemption you’re gonna find yourself stuck in a hole you can’t get out of.”
"Well, what can I say. We’re Howletts, it’s what we do.”
“Yeah.” Logan let a low chuckle. “You know, you could always take up boxing, or mma, go fight in the ring, make more money than you do here.”
“What, like what you did?” You scoffed with an amused raise of your brow. “You fought underground dad.”
“Yeah so. I can be your trainer and we can nickname you Iron Fist.” Logan teased.
“I’m pretty sure that’s taken.” You laughed.
“It is? What kinda punk took that name huh. Bet his fists aren’t even made of Iron.”
“Yeah okay dad.” You rolled your eyes.
“I’m serious. The offer at the school is still open.”
“…………I’ll think about.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Atta girl.” Logan ruffled your hear with a chuckle much to your annoyance. “Well I’m about to head out now.”
“So soon?”
“Yeah. I gotta get on the road.”
“Well it was nice seeing ya dad.” You smiled.
“Nice seein ya too kid. Just remember to be careful, don’t want ya to loose sight of who you are.”
“I won’t.”
“And if ya got any problems, I’m a phone call away. I’m here if you need me kid.”
You put on your best smile, trying your best not to think of the dead girl and the picture of her pale and stone-like face. After finding the card with Laura’s name on it, this new fear had suddenly overcome you, a fear that had shook you to the core more than anything you had ever experienced. The last time you were this afraid, you were captured for the Black Widow program and Hydra, but this, this was something else. Now you were terrified for the life of someone else, someone you cared about, and the thought of your sister lying dead in those cold dark woods made your blood run cold. You didn’t know what this killer was capable of, but one thing was for certain, you would rather risk your own life than let that pathetic excuse of a human come close to your sister. Logan trusted you with Laura’s life, and you were going to keep that promise. But you couldn’t let your father know about what happened, and though the thought of it irked you, it was a good thing you were trained at a young age to lie. “Thanks dad. I appreciate it, really.”
“Love ya kid.” Logan gave you one last hug and a kiss at the top of your head before saying his goodbyes to Laura and leaving down the hallway.
You watched him disappear into the elevator with a frown on your face, your fists clenching at your side before closing the door and staring into the worried face of Yelena. “You should pack a few things for yourself.”
Yelena stared back at you with a darkened look, her eyes searching yours while the ends of her lips turned down at the ends. “Y/n, I’m worried about you.”
“I know, I know. But you have to trust me on this. Please Yelena.”
“I already lost Natasha.”
“I know, I get it Yelena. But you have to trust me.”
“……….Fine. Fine. yah okay. But if you don’t make it back I swear-”
“You’ll find me and kill me yourself, I get it.” You looked at the time, seeing that it was only 3. “You should get ready to go.”
“…..okay.” Yelena sighed with a small nod of her head before going off to pack her things.
You looked down at your sister who had not moved from her seat on the couch, her face unmoving as she flipped through the channels on your TV. Going to the kitchen, you opened up the freezer to grab a small carton of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and a spoon before sitting next to her on your couch. “Hey.”
Laura did not give a single response as she flipped through various channels before stopping on a channel that was playing Shrek.
“Good choice.” You glanced at the tv with a nod of approval. “I bought you ice cream btw. Little birdie told me you like Ben & Jerry’s Strawberry Cheesecake ice cream. And since dad is not one for knowing how to shop for groceries much, especially desserts, I bought you four of these so you can eat to your heart’s content.”
Laura looked at you sideways, glancing up at your face before eyeing the carton of ice cream in your hands.
“Go on, it’s all yours.” You handed her the carton and the spoon, smiling in relief as she finally took them from you after a moment of hesitation before opening the lid and popping a whole spoonful in her mouth.
“You know, Shrek is one of my favorite movies to watch. I can quote the whole movie from front to back, but don’t tell anyone I told you that.” You sat back with a smirk as you watched the movie with her for a bit until your phone began to ring in your pocket causing an annoyed sigh to escape your lips as you picked it up. “Hello?”
“Y/n?”
“Matt?” You scrunched your nose in confusion. Your irritated tone had caused Laura to side glance at you and listen in on the conversation to figure out what could have upset you. “The hell. You tryna give me a reason to block you?”
“Wha-no, no……..Is that….Shrek in the background?”
“Yeah. My sister is staying with me for a couple of months. The hell are you calling me for Murdock.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“Whatya need Matt?”
“I uh-might need your help.”
“Oh yeah?” you scoffed. “Seems like you’re asking an awful lot of favors from me lately.”
“I know…….I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m-urgh.” You heard him let out what sounded to be a pained groan on the other end.
“Jesus fucking christ. You’re hurt aren’t you.”
“…Yes.”
“And let me guess. You need me to come over to your place to patch you up because I definitely as hell ain’t letting your ass in my apartment.”
“………yes.”
“Christ’s sake Matt. Don’t you have any lady friends of yours that are nurses or doctors? In case you didn’t know the difference, I’m a psychiatrist, not a surgeon.”
“I know. But the nurse that I know is out of town and you’re the only other person that I trust.”
You let out a frustrated sigh, running your fingers through your hair before rubbing your temples. “……..Okay. Fine. I’ll head out right now.”
“Thanks y/n.”
“Don’t mention it.” You hung up before getting up from the couch and grabbing your keys from the counter.
“Were are you going?” Yelena questioned once she saw you searching for something.
“I gotta go uh….help an acquaintance. Would you happen to have a first aid kit by chance?”
“Yeah. I put it in your cabinet there. You don’t have one?”
“Well it’s not like a need one.” You scoffed as you opened up the wooden cabinet you had by the door and grabbed the first aid kit before throwing on your shoes. “Just make sure to keep an eye out yeah. And if anything happens, call Stephen, he’ can get here much quicker than I can. His number is on the paper I gave you.”
“I can handle myself.” Yelena raised her brow.
“I know you can. But you’re also human, and we don’t know anything about the possible threat. I’ll be back in about an hour and a half to two hours.”
You arrived at Matt’s apartment complex not long after, pulling your car up to the curb and letting the rumble of the engine run for a moment as you stared up at the the windows that belonged to his place. “God damn it Matt.” You cursed under your breath before getting out of your car and heading up to his place. You tapped your knuckles lightly on his door, hearing the sound of shuffling coming from inside until the door opened to reveal a rather disarranged looking Matt.
“Wow. You look like shit.”
“Thanks for the compliment.” Matt gave you an unamused smile before letting you inside.
“I see you’ve done absolutely nothing to cheer up your place. Dull as always.” You looked around with a distasteful look on your face as you swiped your finger on one of his tables to see dust coating your fingertip. “Yikes. This place could use a proper clean too. I wouldn’t be surprised if traces of the bubonic plague could be found here.”
“Haha very funny. You here to do an inspection?”
“Um, considering I have to be here, physically in this place of yours, yes. Now get your ass on the couch and take off your shirt.” You set your purse down on the table, opening it up to pull out the first aid kit before heading to the sink to wash your hands.
“How’s your sister Laura?” Matt called out from his spot on the couch.
Your breathing hitched just the faintest at the mention of her name, squeezing your eyes shut against the image of her name written across the card in large maroon letters. “She’s uh, she’s doing good. She hasn’t spoken a word to me but she’s good.”
“That’s good to hear. At least you get to spend some time with her.”
“Yeah.” You shook your head, banishing any thoughts related to the case and the event later tonight as to keep Matt from getting suspicious. “I have your file btw. I left some notes in there.”
“Wait, you’re done?” Matt blinked his eyes with a scrunch of his nose before turning his head towards where you stood by the sink. He was surprised that you had already gone through the file and made up a conclusion, especially since he had handed it to you this morning. “That was fast.”
“What can I say.” You let your hands dry off before walking over to where Matt sat on the couch. “I’m good at what I do.”
“Which is why I asked for your help.”
“Oh yeah?” You raised a brow as you slipped on a fresh pair of latex gloves. “Is that also why you called me here now instead of I don’t know, contacting someone else like Foggy.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I just like the sound of your voice.”
You scoffed at his statement with a shake of your head, trying to keep down the blush that started to spread through your cheeks and thankful for the fact that Matt couldn’t see it. “And how many other girls have you said that to? 5? 10?”
“Ahah.” Matt let out a soft chuckle. “Well maybe one.”
“Oh? So just one?”
“Okay, so maybe 2 others.”
“2 meaning 3 or 4.” You teased as you sat yourself down on his coffee table to start on his wounds only to let out a hiss at the sight of him. Large bruises and deep gashes lined his torso, painting a picture of grisly along with a cut that went down his forehead, stopping right below his temple. “Jesus Matt.”
“Judging from the tone of your voice, I don’t look too good.”
“Yeah no shit Sherlock. The hell happened? You get into a fight with Freddy Kreuger?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
“You guess?”
“Well the guy was pretty huge…..and he had a sword.”
“A big guy with a sword. Huh, sounds like Wade.”
“Who’s Wade?”
“This vigilante I ran into once. Likes to talk a lot, super annoying, but kinda funny. Did your guy crack any jokes?”
“Nah. No my guy was pretty quiet, spoke in short sentences.”
“Yeah that’s definitely not Wade.” You opened up the first aid kit and stared at the contents inside. “He would’ve shit at your little costume. Where is it anyways? Did you forget it at the dry cleaners for this fight?”
“I uh, need to get a new one.”
“Yeah. You do that.” You scoffed with a shake of your head. “So…..you see a big guy with a sword and you think it’s a good idea to tango with him. You know, for someone with a law degree from Columbia University, you sure as hell are an idiot.”
“So I’ve been told.” Matt chuckled.
Grabbing some cotton and disinfectant, you gently swabbed at his wounds, wiping off any excess blood and making sure to get rid of any possible traces of bacteria. You felt Matt’s muscles tense under your touch as he let out a hiss, looking up at his face to see his eyes shut in pain. “Hey…..you need some anesthetic for the pain?”
“Nah, I’m fine, thank you.”
You shook your head with a sigh, focusing on your less dominant hand and causing a small fire to be ignited from within your palms, the red tendrils weaving through your fingers as you held it up to your eye level.
“Wha-what are you doing?” Matt tilted his head after sensing the sudden change in temperature. He couldn’t help but feel apprehensive from the unnatural source of heat that sprouted from your hands, afraid that it might somehow spin out of control. After all, he wasn’t used to this sort of thing, especially not in person.
“I need to sterilize the needle before I start stitching up your wounds.” You muttered as you held the needle up to the flame, watching the point of the metal turn red. “And relax. I got it under control.”
“Thought you wouldn’t read my mind.”
“Well maybe try not to think so damn loud next time.” You smirked.
“I’ll uh, do my best, Doctor.”
You rolled your eyes at Matt’s comment before distinguishing the flame, letting the needle cool down for a bit before beginning to stich up his open wounds, causing Matt to wince each time the needle pierced his skin. “You know, you really gotta be careful next time.”
“Is that-don’t tell me you care about me Agent Howlett.” Matt gave you his signature smirk behind those glasses of his, the action causing your cheeks to heat up again while you only forced to keep your heart rate the same so that he wouldn’t notice.
“You know, considering that I’m the one with a needle in hand, I’d choose my next words wisely.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Well Matthew Michael Murdock, if that’s the case, I just might have to stab you.”
“Well what if I just like to get you riled up?”
You let out a scoff, his words catching you off guard. “You’ve got a lot of confidence for someone who gets their ass kicked all the time.”
“Ouch that hurt.” Matt feigned an insulted expression to which you let out a small laugh with a shake of your head.
“Keep talking. I’ve got plenty of insults.” You joked, straightening up a little to work on the cut on his forehead while Matt chuckled, smirking at the way you reacted.
There was a short silence between the two of you, the air around you returning to it’s serious atmosphere while you worked on his last wound until you heard Matt’s voice speak up again.
“Does it hurt?”
“What?” You scrunched your nose.
“Your hands, when they come out.”
“……Every time.”
“How do you go through with it?”
“I just do. The same way you keep fighting despite being beat up.”
“What about the fire?”
“It did at first. Shit. It hurt like hell the first time because I didn’t know how to control it while it engulfed every inch of me, especially since my body kept trying to heal. But once I learned to harness it, control it, it didn’t cause anymore pain. Now it just feels like being wrapped in a warm blanket.”
“At least you won’t need a heater during the winter months.”
“Yeah. I guess not.” You laughed at his little joke, finding yourself gazing at him with a smile once you had finished up his last wound before clearing your throat. “You’re uh. You’re all done by the way.”
“Thanks for this y/n. Really.” Matt smiled at you. “It means a lot.”
“Yeah well…..couldn’t have you bleed out in your own apartment now could I?”
“No, I guess not.” Matt smirked before tilting his head towards you, bringing his hands up to caress your cheek while he did so.
You ever so slightly gasped at his touch, his thumb leaving trails of goosebumps in its path against your skin. “Matt.” You breathed out with your eyes fluttered closed. You wanted to pull away, terrified of what this would lead to and yet, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, tempted to be able to feel something for once. And though you tried so desperately to not let your feelings show, Matt knew the hold he had on you. But he also was aware of the hold you had on him, and it drove him over the edge. You found yourself reaching for him, your hand placing itself on his thigh to steady yourself while your breaths fanned each others faces.
“Y/n, about what happened before-”
“Oh shut up.” You cut him off before crashing your lips against his.
Matt sat frozen for a second, surprised by your movement before molding himself into your lips, his hands finding a way to your waist to pull you flush against him before resting a hand on the curve of your back. Matt moaned against your lips, craning his head out towards you with half shut eyes as you pulled away with a smirk at the sight of him being a mess beneath you while you placed your hand on his chest, pushing him down onto the couch before straddling his waist. Sliding your hand up to the bottom of his neck, you bent down to make out with him, your hand slowly making its way up against his skin before finally reaching the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Running your fingers through his hair, you dragged your nails down his scalp, biting his bottom lip as you did so before clutching his hair and pulling his head back, eliciting a grunt of arousal to escape from his parted flushed lips. Smirking, you placed your lips behind his ear, pressing kisses down his jaw and neck while his hands slid up your thighs to clutch at the soft flesh of your hips while you grinded down against him. Matt let out a groan, bringing his hand up to wrap around your neck before reconnecting his lips with yours.
The two of you were a panting mess, both of your heightened senses making the current moment much more intense than if you didn’t possess the abilities you had. Matt’s hands were warm against your body, leaving goosebumps wherever they went despite you being fully clothed. Yet yours were life fire against his, your body heat raising in temperature from the way you felt. You felt Matt’s hand slide away from your neck, his fingers tracing up your skin in patterns and making its way to your hair before stopping at the touch of ice cold metal meeting his fingertips. The action had felt like an electric shock running through your spine, the brief contact making you gasp in fear as you yanked yourself away, moving yourself off him and pushing yourself back towards the opposite end of the couch.
“Y/n?” Matt had sensed your emotion, noticing how your heart rate had sped up incredibly and the way you had flinched away from when his fingers came into contact with the strange metal device that was embedded into your skin right below the back of your head near the top curve of your neck. “You okay?” Matt asked, but you did not answer.
Your eyes were glossed over, your body trembling as various images flashed before your eyes. You saw yourself in an operating room, fully awake and conscious and strapped down onto the operating table while the sound of a drill filled your ears in piercing screeches before being overcome with the screams of your own as a sharp pain spread down your spine and through the back of your head.
“Y/n.” Matt’s voice called out to you in echoes muffled behind the shadows of your visions until the touch of his hands gently placing themselves at the sides of your face brought you back. Barely breaking out of your daze in an unstable snarl of fury, you knocked Matt down onto the ground, placing your body over him as your claws slipped out of your knuckles with their sharp points hovering right over where his head was.
“Y/n.” Matt breathed out, attempting to stay calm despite feeling the sharp metal just barely grazing against the skin on his forehead. Though he couldn’t see the expression on your face, nor the rage behind your eyes, something told him that he wouldn’t have been able to recognize you in this moment. “It’s me. It’s okay.”
You blinked back the tears that had formed in your eyes amidst the terrors of your visions, your brows knitted together at the situation unfurled while a choked whisper escaped your lips. “Matt?”
“Hey. It’s okay. It’s alright.”
“I-I.” You choked out as you unsheathed your claws before getting off him. “Matt, I-I’m so sorry.”
“Hey it’s okay. You’re safe.”
“I could’ve-I could’ve killed you. I could’ve-” You mumbled, staring at him with widened eyes filled with disbelief at the thought of how you were just seconds away from killing someone you cared about.
“It’s okay, I’m fine.” Matt scooted closer only for you to stop him.
“Don’t.”
“Y/n.”
“Stay back Matt.” You spoke in a firmer tone before running your hands through your hair. “Jesus fucking christ. I tried to kill you. Don’t you see that?”
“But you didn’t.”
“But I could have! What if I couldn’t have been stopped huh? What then?” You shook your head before getting up. “I need to go.”
“Were are you going?” Matt stood up with you.
“Home.”
“Y/n wait. Something’s been bothering you since I last saw you. What’s going on?”
“None of your concern Matt.” You clenched your jaw, avoiding his face as you gathered all your things. “I left your file on the desk.”
“Look, I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe.”
“Yeah well I don’t need you to keep me safe okay.” You snapped. “I can take bullets, you can’t. If anything you should be keeping yourself safe from me.”
“Y/n wait.” Matt called out for you, standing in the center of the room with concern written across his features. But you did not respond, nor did you turn back just once as you walked out of his apartment, your heart rate slowing down to it’s steady rhythm. Matt silently listened to the sound of your footsteps getting fainter and fainter the farther away you went, until the loud rumble of your car’s engine started up, echoing in the street followed the screeching of your tires as you drove off, farther and farther away until he could no longer hear whatever was left of you.
Matt Murdock x Mutant!Reader, Bucky x Mutant!Reader Part 5
A/N: Part 5 is here my lovelies! I hope you all enjoy! As always, feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated and let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list. Have a lovely day! ✨✨✨
Summary: Imagine being the daughter of Wolverine and an FBI agent. You used to be a part of Bucky’s past. A distant part of his past that he had forgotten over time, until one day, he sees your face shadowed behind the public eye, like an apparition, almost as if you didn’t exist. Confused over your existence and questioning whether what he saw was real, broken memories of you come flooding back to him, and Bucky finds himself scrambling to search for clues that would lead to who you are and why he feels as if he had seen you before. You on the other hand had moved on, starting a new life for yourself and even finding yourself working with a certain lawyer. After the horrors you faced, you wanted to leave your past behind you, eventually forgetting mostly everything that ever happened. That is until the former Winter Soldier brings those memories all back.
Warnings: language, angst, blood and violence. Trigger warning, this chapter involves descriptions of a crime scene: homicide and sexual assault against a minor, so please do not read this if you feel this may affect you. I will also input trigger warnings around the areas that this theme is mentioned.
You pulled up to the sight of the crime scene you were just called into after working on some files at the office during the morning, parking your car on the side of the road that led to a local hiking trail as the lights of the cop cars danced across your face in patterns of reds and blues. You remained in your seat for a moment, your knuckles turning white from gripping your wheel as you stared off into the distance, drowning out the sound of the police radios with deep and steady breaths as you tried to prepare yourself for what you might come across. You usually liked to keep yourself preoccupied, whether it was your work or other simple things like reading a book, it helped to distract you from whatever it was you needed to take your mind off of. But now that you didn’t have your head buried in files and reports, your thoughts began to drift off to what had happened earlier. Various speculations ran through your head as you tried to analyze the things Matt had said to you and why he had even done so in the first place. Perhaps you were overthinking it. Sure, Karen was an extremely attractive woman, and you found yourself feeling silly for even thinking of the idea as if Matt knew what she looked like. But it wasn’t so much that, it was the way she looked at him that made you doubt everything he told you. Maybe the things he said were just a ploy, one of his lawyer tactics to get you to get over the anger you had for him so that you would end up helping with his case. If there was one thing he was good at, it was his way with words. Matt almost always knew what to say and he could be persuasive at times. And if there was one thing you were good at, it was knowing whether he was being honest or just being full of bullshit. If only you could have deciphered which one if it weren’t for your emotions getting in the way.
Turning off your engine, you stepped out of your car, squinting your eyes against the glare of the sun and searching the faces of the officers nearby. After throwing on your sunglasses you spotted the familiar head of dark brown curls sticking out from behind a Buick. Upon spotting you, your partner Pedro who was leaning against his car, waved you over. “Gomez.” You walked over to him, giving him a short and polite smile.
“Afternoon y/l/n. You feeling better?”
“Yeah. So what have we got here?”
“They found a dead body about a mile off the trail.” Pedro told you before walking alongside you to the destination.
“Any witnesses?” You brought up, your eyes focused on the dirt and pieces of mud that started to coat the tops of your boots while keeping a lookout for anything that could be a piece of evidence as you trudged deeper into the thicket of trees.
“A park ranger. Said he heard something between the trees and went to check it out and that’s when he found the body.”
“And the suspect?”
“Fled the scene before anyone arrived.”
“Any identification of a vehicle?”
“As of yet, no.”
“What about the media? They haven’t heard about this yet have they?”
“No. I have a few officers stationed outside in specific areas to block off all possible access to the scene.
"Good. Not a word of this to the press. Not until we know what’s going on.”
“Got it.”
Some time had passed, though not much. The sun was still high in the sky, its rays shrouded by the dense leaves and branches of the trees that covered the grounds. The smell of pine, damp soil from the moisture left over by the morning fog, and the smell of sap leaking from the cracks of trunks filled the air as Pedro and you hiked off the trail and ventured deeper into the woods, following the two officers in front of you. When you began to approach the area of concern, there in the distance your ears picked up on the sound of people moving about, paired with the soft chatter of voices as they discussed important issues with each other that seemed to blend with the preferred quietness of some. You noticed how some of them were unsettled, their muscles stiff as they carried out their duties while the rest carried an air of composure and focus resulted by the years spent working in the field. The familiar dark blue uniforms of the police and the black windbreakers with the printed word “Forensics” in white block letters were seen moving about the area inside the yellow tape that went around the perimeter.
“Here we are.” Pedro commented as the two of you ducked under the tape while making sure to be extra cautious where you stepped. “Hey, before you go any further,” Pedro stopped you, his eyes searching the ground as he tried to find the right words to say. “this…..this one is different. It might…….upset you.”
***Trigger Warning Beginning***
You gave Pedro a puzzled look, searching the clouded look in the dark chestnut depths of his irises that were shadowed beneath his brows that were currently knitted together. Being mindful of his words, you turned your head in the direction on your left where the trees had formed a clearing, the sun shining some light onto the patch where most of the others were gathered. You had caught note of the faint smell while you were still a distance away, a smell that you could never get used to, the sharp and stinging smell of rot that burned the inside of your nose and made you want to hurl. You knew there would be a dead body before you even arrived at the scene. Having knowledge that a location had a dead body was one thing, seeing it was another. The thing when expecting corpses was that you never knew just what to expect.
Just a few feet away, towards the center, a few personnel of the forensics team were crouched near the ground with their cameras, their flashes going off in clicks and sparks of white as they snapped multiple shots involving different angles of the body that was there. It seemed as if time had slowed down as you moved closer to investigate, your feet were heavy, like someone had tied weights to them using iron chains that burned against the flesh on your ankles. You could feel the eyes of those around you, hear the heartbeats of the members of the crime scene unit as they took a quick look at your stone like face before stepping aside as you passed. You nearly gasped at the sight, feeling your heart stop in your chest and fall to your stomach as your eyes bore into the lifeless face of the girl that lied there, a child.
“My god.” You breathed out with a clenched jaw, the ends of your lips turned downwards as you struggled to get ahold of the image. The girl, of age 14 or 15, lied there unsettlingly amongst the patch of grass, her skin ghostly white and the curls of her blonde hair splayed out behind her. It looked almost as if she were sleeping, and the somewhat peaceful image that was displayed haunted you to the core because of the monstrosity that lurked behind it. She was placed on her back with her hands folded neatly above her stomach, holding a single lily between her thin fingers. She was dressed in this white georgette dress that stopped a bit above her knees, the white fabric hinting just the faintest shade of pink while flowers adorned her hair, an assortment of lilacs and daisies. One would think that after working in this field after a certain amount of time, you’d get used to seeing stuff like this. But no, it never got easier. If anything, you just didn’t vomit like you did the first time you saw one.
“There’s speculation this one might be tied to the other 3 girls that were found.” Pedro crossed his arms over his chest as he watched you get a closer look.
“The other three? You mean the other 3 girls that were found in rivers in Massachusetts and Rhode Island? I read the files.”
“What can you make of it?” Pedro asked as he pulled out a notepad and pen from his pocket, the tip of the pen hovering over the paper as he waited for your observations.
“The murder victim is female, age 14 or 15.” You stated, pulling up the fabric of your pants before crouching down to your knees while slipping on a clean pair of gloves, the dry texture of the latex sticking against your skin as you pulled it over your wrists. “This one is fresh, killed not too long ago unlike the others that were in the later stages of decomposition. I’d say the time of death was……7 hours and 16 minutes ago. There’s….some bruising on her wrists that look like rope marks, silk.”
“Silk?” Pedro quirked a brow. “How can you tell?”
“The imprint of fibers.” You pointed to her wrists.
“What else?”
“He had her locked up, tied her up to make sure she wouldn’t escape. But he didn’t starve her, no, she was well fed. It looks like the suspect put some makeup on her. Not a lot, just some blush on her cheeks and some lipstick. Her nails are clean. She was……..groomed well, there’s hardly any traces of dirt on her. She has………..” You gulped, your nails digging into your palms as you pressed the back of your knuckles against your mouth.
“What is it?”
“There’s uh, bruising………near her inner thighs and uh……….signs of sexual assault.” Your voice came out in a broken whisper. “…………Have the forensics found any traces of semen?”
“None.”
“He made sure to wash her up. Fucking bastard piece of shit.”
“Hey.” You felt Pedro’s hand on the back of your shoulder. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Can we please move further?”
“……….What do you call the cause of death?”
“There’s no severe signs of strangulation or physical trauma.” You sniffed over her body with twisted lips, using your senses to pick up on any certain smells that could be a clue before recoiling from the acidic scent that burned through your nostrils, making you cough as a result. “Nightshade poisoning from ingestion. Hang on………..she’s wearing perfume.”
“Perfume? Any idea what brand?”
“………..Eleganter Schwan 06.”
“Say what?”
“Wait…….there’s more.” You stopped him, closing your eyes and breathing in the air. “There’s……leftover traces of cologne…………Clive Christian’s Original Collection.”
“You think the suspect was wearing it?”
“Positive.”
“How did you know what brands they are?” Pedro looked intently in surprise at the side of your face, watching the way your eyes darted around as you started to put everything together.
“I was studying abroad in France the summer of my sophomore year in uni and the place I was staying at was right next to a perfume shop. I used to have this little routine where everyday after class I would stop by the shop and test out the little sample bottles, a new perfume each day until I found the one I liked.”
“Makes sense, so what’s your analysis?”
“The suspect is a male, early 40s. He’s careful, made sure to leave no witness or any pieces of evidence that could lead back to him. But this,” you pointed towards the girl. It’s like he wants to show off, like he wanted us to find her.”
“Why the hell would he want us to find her?”
“To show off. If he wanted to hide her he could’ve hid her or dumped her in the river like the rest but no. The bastard wanted to show off his twisted sense of sentiment, which explains the elaborateness. He’s also wealthy.”
“Wealthy? What makes you say that?”
“The perfume and the cologne. They’re priced at about half a thousand each. The dress is Armani which is close to a thousand dollars.”
“Jesus. Who the hell would spend so much on someone they’re about to kill?”
“Someone with a lot of money to spare.”
“What else can you make out?”
“Whoever did this……this man, sounds disgusting but I think he loved her.”
“People don’t exactly kill the ones they love.”
“Which is why he did all this, it’s……..his way of honoring her death.” You gestured to the flowers. “You see, he thought he loved her, most likely has a twisted idea of what love is. But no, this man was obsessed with her, obsessed with her innocence, which explains the color of her dress and the flowers, they represent innocence and purity. His obsession with her also explains why he fixed her up like this. See those faint markings on her throat?” You pointed to the barely noticeable purple markings that lined her throat. “He tried to strangle her, but didn’t have the heart to finish the job. He also could have stabbed her or shot her, but that would have ruined her….image, so he poisoned her. I have a feeling this was his first planned target. Probably saw her somewhere in public when she caught his eye, maybe walking home from school? But he didn’t want to get to her yet so he killed the other three to satisfy his impulses. He took care of her, in his own sick way. Made sure to use soft ropes that are somewhat gentle on the skin, fed her and dressed her, and adorned her with flowers as if she was some kind of taxidermy that needed to be prepped and displayed.”
***Trigger Warning Ends Here***
“That’s one hell of an analysis Special Agent y/l/n.” You heard someone behind you speak up.
“Sir.” You stood up, turning around to your boss, the special agent in charge of your unit, Jack Morgan. He was a tall, thin man of age 50 with scattered gray hairs that lined the ash blondes of his hair. A pair of clubmaster glasses sat on the hook of his nose, the bottom rims of the frame somehow disguising the dark circles that sat under his hollow eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
“No worries.” He waved you off with a polite smile sitting on his thin lips. “Any clue that might lead to identifying the suspect?“
"Not yet sir.” You shook your head. “I’m working on it. But I feel close.”
"Well. We better get this bastard in handcuffs fast before he does it again.” Jack nodded with his hands in his pockets before walking off to speak to one of the deputies. “Let me know if you find anything y/l/n.”
“Of course sir. I’ll let you know.”
“So what now?” Pedro turned towards you as the two of you walked away for a moment.
“I’ll look into the surrounding buildings near the school she went to including the ones around her home, see if there is a possibility he lives in one of them, or at least visits them and etc. I’ll also check into the local perfume retailers, see which ones carry the brands I mentioned and get a list of who had bought them. We also need to keep a lookout on any gardens in the area. He mostly likely has a garden set up specially for his poisonous plants.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see what I can find too.” Pedro nodded before noticing the distant look into your eyes. "You okay? I know this case mustn’t have been easy for you.”
“It’s just…..a lot to take in you know.” Your shoved your hands into your pockets as you kicked the dirt at your feet. Your voice had a slight tremble in it as a shiver ran through your body. You couldn’t tell if it was the cold breeze or the crime scene itself that wanted to make you curl into your blanket and hide. But, you were also beyond furious, disgusted, and even scared, scared of what this asshole of a man was capable of. You couldn’t even seem to get yourself to stay still. Your hands and legs were itching to throw on a pair of mma gloves and go to the nearest martial arts club and go full force on a punching bag, kicks and jabs and all, maybe even throw the damn thing though the wall. Better yet, you wanted to find the fucking bastard that did this, maybe even beat his face in a little, use him as your punching bag before locking him up. But more than anything you were furious with yourself, upset that you weren’t able to find out who this sick fuck was.
“You think you’re able to…..you know.” Pedro nodded towards the corpse of the girl. Him and your boss were the only other people, or non-mutants rather, that knew about your past and what you could do, after all, it was Charles who had recommended you to them. After you were pardoned, they needed to know just who was coming in to work for them.
“I don’t know.” You faltered. “I’ve done it before with living people, but this, this is different. I’m a telepath, not a necromancer.”
“She was killed recently.” He noted as he followed the doubtful look in your eye. “Maybe there’s a chance some remnants of her……energy or…soul is left.”
You stared into the face of the girl for some time, your lips pursed in thought at the paleness of her face that was probably once radiant and full of life, now cold and lifeless and never again given the chance to do the things that most children her age will be given the chance to experience. Everything was stolen from her. You couldn’t imagine what the parents must be going through, to hear that their little girl was lying dead somewhere due to the hands of some murderous bastard serial killer. “…………I can try. See if it works. I just………don’t know if I’m ready for what I might see.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t to.”
***Trigger Warning begins here***
“No. Whether I want to or not is not important. But this,” you pointed towards the girl. “This is important. I need to be up close though in order to see if I can pick up on something.” You walked back over to the girl’s body once the forensics team had left, crouching down on the ground where she lay while Pedro kept a lookout for you to make sure no one noticed. You breathed in a heavy sigh, taking a few reps of deep and heavy puffs of air to prepare yourself for whatever horrors you might face before closing your eyes and hovering your gloved hand over her head. Your mother had the gift of sight, just like you, and she too was able to read the thoughts of those around her. But the visions she received were different than yours, she was able to see ahead into the further, of events that have yet to come. You tried to hone in on the advice Charles had taught you. Being a telepath himself, he was able to help you with a few things in order to harness your power, like reaching out for something that had meaning, something that invoked a strong sense of emotion in you. So you followed his steps.
At first there was nothing, just the sounds that were present to the mortal ear; like the gentle breeze that whispered through the leaves of trees, the sound of footsteps against the patches of grass and dirt and mud, the chirping of birds perched in the branches of the trees around you, and the few uttering of voices discussing a mixture of the mundane and subjects related to the case. There was a certain stillness in the nature around you that one would have thought to be peaceful had they not seen the corpse that laid amongst the grass, and the feeling of it twisted your stomach in words you could not explain. It was too sunny for a day such as this.
With another deep breath, you started to zone out your surroundings, cutting out the voices and the sounds of nature until you could hear the sound of everyone’s heartbeats, and then finally their thoughts. In the beginning, it was chaos. You winced against the many voiceless words that belonged to the minds of those around you, each one thinking of something different than the other. Step by step, you cut them out, focusing instead on the mind of the lifeless body of the girl that laid in front of you. You struggled, straining to see anything, hear anything, but there was nothing, just emptiness. Yet you pushed on, desperate to find something. Your brows were knit together at the center of your forehead from your effort, the strain you were inflicting on yourself causing a vein to pop out at your temple.
And then there it was, faint, and hidden in the depths of something beyond the physical, like looking at a screen or a mirage far off in the distance. So you reached towards it, focused all your strength on that faraway image. And then it hit you like a bus. You were engulfed with screams, screams that belonged to the little girl that completely enveloped you and pierced your ears. It felt as if these invisible iron chains had wrapped around you, pulling you closer into the depths of her mind. And that is when the nature of your surroundings had vanished and you found yourself looking through her eyes. There was this room, but all you could see was the ceiling, a white tiled ceiling with designs molded into each panel and a chandelier hanging from the center. Your arms and legs were tied, constricting you of any moment on what felt like a bed beneath you. A dark shadow moved from the side of the room, and that’s when you saw him, a face of a man hovering over you, the angle of the light casting a shadow on his face that made him resemble a demon with a sickening smile that stretched from ear to ear.
***Trigger Warning ends here***
You awoke from the vision with a start, your heart pounding and your forehead beaded with sweat as you struggled to breath, choking on the air in your lungs. You felt a warm liquid run down from your nose, the taste of copper filling your lips as a sickening sensation suddenly overcame you.
“Y/n?” You heard Pedro’s voice, muffled against the ringing in your ears as if a loud explosion had damaged them. You struggled up to your feet, the world around you spinning as you swayed with each step. You heard his voice call out for you again, but all you could focus on was your vision becoming more blurry by the second with each step you took as you tried to exit the area. After pushing past the yellow tape, you held onto the tree next to you for support, the throbbing in your head getting more powerful by the second. With a cold ice-like sensation washing over you, you doubled over and vomited onto the dirt in front of you before collapsing to the ground, your vision becoming black as you lost all consciousness.
When you had awoken, you found Pedro crouched next to you, his eyes trained on your face as he pressed a cold washcloth against your forehead.
“Ugh….” You groaned, shifting your body to notice that Pedro had sat you up against the tree. “Did I pass out? And please tell me I didn’t fall on my puke.”
“You were unconscious for a good two minutes. And no, you didn’t fall on your puke. You okay?”
“I don’t know. I got dizzy all of a sudden.”
“……….You saw something didn’t you?” Pedro had stopped, lowering the washcloth down to his side as his eyes searched yours, both out of concern and out of curiosity.
You stared at him for a moment with a solemn expression, the pain you had experienced through the girl visible in your eyes. “……….She was in so much pain.” You choked out. You wanted to cry, to scream, anything to make all that you felt go away. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t so much as shed a tear or else you would risk being taken off the case for involving too much emotion.
“…………What about the suspect?”
You looked away for a moment, recounting the things you had seen. “I……I couldn’t see his face. The room was dark. She was in so much pain Pedro.” You lied. Lied about not having seen his face. You had seen every detail of that bastard’s face, and it was everything you needed. You knew what you had to do.
Pedro nodded his head in understanding before listening quietly at what you had told him about what the girl had been through, his jaw clenched in anger. He felt guilty for making you preform such a task, believing that he had endangered you in some way. “I shouldn’t have put you through that.”
“No Pedro, it’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. I agreed to do it. It was to help with the investigation, to help catch this sick bastard remember?”
“You should go home.” Pedro gave you a regretful smile. “Get some rest. You look like shit after that.”
“You’re telling me.” You gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before getting up with a grunt as he helped support you up.
“Need me to walk you back to your car?”
“Nah. I’m fine. Thank you though Pedro.” You went back to your car, giving Pedro a wave as you went while he watched you go with a look of worry written across his dark olive skin. Something was off about you, and he had a gut feeling that you had not told him the whole truth regarding the vision you had.
When you returned back to your parked car, you took out your keys and unlocked the door, opening it up to get into the driver’s seat until a small piece of paper caught your eye, falling down right beside your feet. You stared suspiciously down at the dark gray rectangular piece of cardstock that looked to be a business card, seeing no print or writing on the side that was currently facing up. “What in the?” You muttered out, taking a quick glance around before dropping down to pick it up. The card was thick and smooth, of a matte finish, and felt heavy in your hands as you brought it up to your face. Small ridges lined the surface as you ran your thumb across the texture. Something about this card seemed off, causing the world around you to feel cloudy as an unnatural feeling started to form in the pit of your stomach. With trembling hands, you turned the card around to see a five letter word hand written across in maroon ink. A name. Laura.
Fic Trade Prompt: "Sometimes the ‘Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’ just needed a shoulder to lean on.“
Notes: I only ever saw the first season of Daredevil. Also, I mostly chose to write this particular fic trade response because I wanted an excuse to write something that, for me, was a shoutout to His Dark Materials, a book series I’m enormously fond of.
I don’t actually know anything about Catholicism, however, and as a Christian myself, I realize His Dark Materials is not exactly a reliable source for learning about the topic of religion. If you are Catholic and something in here is incorrect, I implore you to inform me so that I can fix the problem. If it’s so horrendously awful that a mere edit won’t work, I’m even willing to rewrite it.
In more specific-to-the-fic information, this is one of my few fic trade responses where I tried my hardest to stay within the word count restrictions. Alas, I still went over…and trying so hard means that this really isn’t near as sensory-overload-descriptive as I would want something from Matt’s perspective to be.
A Matter of Sanity
Matt woke up that morning to a barrage of sensory assault: warm sunlight splayed across his skin; humidity from the bathroom down the hall dampened the short hairs on his face; the smell of strange perfume sticking to the semi-cooled sheets beside him and his familiar shampoo drifting through the air. Toast had been made–and nearly burned–in the kitchen sometime that morning. He could hear the medicine cabinet closing, then bare feet padding toward him. Through all these floating, fuzzy feelings sliced his injuries from the night before: cuts, bruises, blisters, maybe a sprained wrist.
“Morning, Mattie.”
Andthere was the reason he had not meditated after the fight, the reason his wounds felt as fresh as though he’d got them minutes before.
Said reason lighted on the edge of his bed and slipped soft fingers into his sleep-mussed hair. “Did you sleep well last night?”
In answer, Matt let out an incomprehensible moan. As far as he could remember, not much sleeping had taken place in the apartment the night before. Still, he wasn’t one to quibble over what he’d been doing instead. Seconds later, he sat up, forcing you to stop playing with his hair so that he could wrap his arms around your waist and put his cheek against your moist, bare shoulder.
“Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” he mumbled.
You laughed, a sound that always caused a pleasant unfurling sensation to spread through Matt’s stomach. “Sorry. A girl has to have some secrets, even from her all-knowing, all-seeing blind lawyer friend.”
“Is that what we are? Friends?” Matt chuckled himself and tightened his grip as he pressed a kiss to your skin. “You are the worst nun I have ever met.”
Another laugh, then you gently patted his cheek with your shower-warmed hand. “Well, maybe that’s why I decided not to be one anymore. What do you want for lunch?”
The weight on his mattress vanished at the same time your body did.
“Lunch? What time is it?”
Frowning, Matt turned in the direction he heard you moving–toward where you had left the majority of your clothes the night before. Whether he had pulled them off or you had, he couldn’t quite remember. Then a more important question popped out of his mouth:
“Did you say you quit being a nun?”
You only bothered to answer his first two questions: “It’s nearly eleven o’ clock. Figured if you wanted to go somewhere, we’d better head that way, and frankly, Matt, there’s nothing in this apartment but beer.”
“Eleven? It’s Thursday. I can’t go to lunch. I’m already late for work–what was that about stopping nun-ing?”
“I called in for you. Foggy whined about you skipping over a woman as usual, but–”
“[Name],” said Matt. “The thing about your job?”
You heaved a dramatic sigh. “I quit, okay? I was going to tell you when I came over last night, but after all that, I kind of figured I didn’t have to anymore.”
“Some clarification might have been nice.” Matt hadn’t felt an overabundance of guilt at sleeping with you. It took two to tango, after all, and you’d been just as willing as he had. Now some dread began to creep in. “Why’d you quit?”
A huff sounded from behind the fabric of the shirt over your face. “I met a tall, dark, handsome stranger beating the tar out of a Russian slave trader in an alley, and he made me rethink my life choices.”
“That’s a cliché.”
“So’s a blind ninja fighting slave traders in New York.”
“Not exactly.” Pressing his lips together, Matt slid out of his silk sheets. He knew his shirt was not far away, but he hadn’t started pulling it on yet when he went on, “I didn’t mean to have you quit.”
“Matt!” you groaned.
“You can’t come with me. I didn’t mean to make you to feel useless.”
“I’m a grown woman, and I make my own choices. Youdidn’tmake me feel or do anything–and I know I can’t go with you to punch Russians. I just wanted to do a little good for Hell’s Kitchen.”
“Youwere doing good for Hell’s Kitchen. With the Church.”
“Have to disagree with you there. And I’m not going back. You can’t make me. I want to experience the world. I want to helpyou.”
“I already said, you are not–“
“Iknow,” you interrupted. “There’s more to do than break people’s bodies, you know.”
Matt stared at you, or stared roughly in the direction he knew you continued to pull on various articles of clothing. Another sigh issued from there.
“When I got here last night to give you the news, you were bleeding and shaking from head to foot. There’s nothing to eat here but booze and bread. You can take care of yourself, but you’re not very good at looking afteryourself.”
He had never really thought about it that way. His work as Daredevil was vital; eating, less so. Matt already healed faster than most when he wasn’t busy deflowering ex-nuns, and what didn’t heal after that, he could plow through just fine. On the other hand…
“Are you inviting yourself to move in?” he asked.
There was an obvious smile in your voice when you answered, “Well, you are the reason I’m presently homeless and unemployed. If you hadn’t seduced me away from a life of worship and piety, I’d still be doing my holy work, Matt Murdock.”
“And you’re absolutely sure you’re done with being a nun.”
“I think what we did last night pretty much sealed the deal.”
“And there’d be more of that.”
“I’m leaning toward yes.”
“And you really want to live here. With me. With the giant blazing billboard right outside the window.”
He got a pillow to the face for his trouble, or would have, had he not caught it before it smacked him in the nose.
“Does it sound like I can afford to be picky about where I’m staying? I’m sure about all of the above. I can always move out once I find something else, if you decide you hate having me here.”
Your tone turned just a little uncertain at the end of that sentence. Matt stood and stepped carefully (in case of more pillows) over the smooth floor toward you.
“I won’t hate having you here,” he said. “Now that you mention it, it might be nice having someone here when I get home bleeding at two in the morning. To fuss over me and put me in place. When can you start?”
“Immediately.” You shoved something soft-ish into his chest. Pants, he realized as felt the hard button. “Now get dressed. It’s getting toward noon now and all that sex makes a girl hungry.”
“Right,” Matt said, and quickly started to pull on the pants.
Definitely the putting him in his place part, then. But maybe you were right. Maybe sometimes, the “Devil of Hell’s Kitchen” just needed a shoulder to lean on. He’d have to see, but he was leaning toward yes, too.
-summary; Matt comes home to find his cross missing. -warnings; blood, religious imagery. -a/n;Blue Horses, Mary Oliver
It had been a rough night. Matt could barely walk. He stumbled up the stairs, leaving a bloody trail in his wake. He was dying, maybe he was already dead. He struggled to unlock his front door. You listened from your place on his couch. You listened as he struggled.
The smell of you was the first thing Matt noticed. He breathed a sigh of relief. His apartment was warm and dry and it felt good to be home. You didn’t move. Normally, you would wander over to him, help him to the bathroom. But not tonight. Matt felt and fumbled his way to the couch. He collapsed into you. He wrapped his arms around your waist. You were familiar. Matt felt the life flow back into him, his skin warming under your hands. He could smell your perfume, your shampoo. It all calmed him. He ran his hands over your skin, mapping you out. He came up to your shoulders and then ran his fingers through freshly washed hair. His thumbs stroked your cheeks. You didn’t smile like you usually did. His hands were leaving trails of half-dried blood behind them, all over you. He dropped his touch to your neck, where he noticed something new.
You weren’t particularly religious. You never had been, not since Matt has known you. He first approached you because he could smell the lapsed-catholic guilt that radiated off of you. And he never left. Neither did the guilt. Matt had never known you to wear a cross, not like he did. You never usually wore necklaces at all. He could feel your rings digging into his thighs. He could hear your earrings chime with every shake of your head. But this necklace was new.
He took the chain between his fingers and ran them down, down until they reached a very familiar pendant. A cross, cold against his skin. This wasn’t yours. Suddenly he noticed the lack of a cross around his neck. It was his.
“You’re hurt,” you state. “You’re weak, Matt. You can barely stand.”
“I thought that’s how you like me,” he joked. “I think I look good in red, no?”
You shook your head. Blood was drying on your skin and you felt dirty, sinful. Hail Mary’s would not make up for this.
“This is mine,” he tugged harshly on the chain and your head lunged forward, your lips brushing against his.
“You forgot it here before you left.”
You unclasped it. Matt heard the cross jingle. He felt your hands behind his neck, cold metal on his chest. The chain settled around his neck. Matt touched yours again, it was bare.
You watched as Matt stood. He pulled his shirt over his head. His whole chest was covered in red. He rest on knee on the couch and leaned over you. His hand cupped your jaw, holding you still so he could kiss you. His tongue swept into your mouth and all you could taste was blood. You pushed Matt away.
“I don’t like it. Go wash it off. Patch yourself up.”
“Help me,” Matt pleaded.
You hovered your hand over Matt’s. He could feel you trembling. You were shaking uncontrollably. Matt knew what you meant. If you tried to sew him up, you’d only hurt him more. Matt nodded and disappeared into the bathroom. You scrubbed your hands and face clean in the kitchen sink. You scrubbed until your skin was raw. Matt reappeared behind you silently. You jumped at the feeling of his hands on your hips. He smelt clean. You were comfortable again, leaning back against his bare chest.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“You don’t have to make it pretty. It’s blood,” you pleaded. “it’s not meant to be pretty.”
“Everything is beautiful if you want it to be.”
“Maybe the desire to make something beautiful is the piece of God that is inside all of us.”
Summary: The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is a pain in the ass, but he’s always there when you need him. You just wished he’d let you know who he was.(fluff)
You weren’t expecting to end up at Daredevil’s apartment just two weeks after he suddenly decided to tell you his name, but there you were.
Sure, he had not much of a choice, he had a nasty gash on his back that needed stitches and his place was way closer. But Matt had also come to terms with the fact that this thing between you was something and he couldn’t keep you out any longer.
You had helped him back home and followed him when he entered his apartment from the roof. The place would’ve been pitch black if it weren’t for the flashing lights coming from the window and your eyes scanned the place with curiosity. It felt surreal to be there.
The pained groan Matt let out as he worked to take the top of his suit off pulled you back to reality, rushing to his side to help him.
“Wait, let me do it.” You started fumbling with it without taking into consideration you didn’t know what you were supposed to do, your brow creasing before you rested your hands on his shoulders and huffed. “Yeah, I have no idea how this works.”
“I noticed.” Matt huffed a chuckle as he rested his already gloveless hands on the sides of your hips. “I’ll guide you.” He said, starting to give you instructions on how to remove the suit as you went along following them.
Your eyes trailed over his scarred and bruised skin, your hand twitching wanting to brush your fingers across the scars, but refraining from it for the time being.
“Go sit, I’ll get the first aid kit.” You ushered him, guiding him to the couch.
“In the bathroom.” He let you know, pointing towards where the bathroom was before sitting sideways so his bloodied back wouldn’t touch the back of the couch.
You went to fetch the first aid kit, switching the lights on on your way to the bathroom.
You made a comment on /how absurd it was that he didn’t want you to know stuff about him but now you were literally in his apartment/ before you kneeled to look under the sink for what you wanted, your brows scrunching when you realized every item there had a small small label with raised dots on it.
No fucking way.
“So… is that braille on the hand soap refill under the sink?” You awkwardly asked, not knowing how to approach the subject after your mind just went through every image you had of him successfully fighting criminals and your new discovery about him, placing the bag down on the coffee table and sitting behind him.
Matt nodded, his masked head turning slightly towards you. “I’m blind, yes.”
“What the fuck, Matt? How do you even? What?” You tried to form a question unsuccessfully as you disinfected your hands before putting on a pair of gloves.
“Sight is overrated.” Matt shrugged and chuckled. “You already know I have heightened senses.”
“So it compensates?” You started cleaning the gash on his back, making him hiss when the disinfectant got into the open flesh. “Sorry.”
“I guess you could say that.” He nodded, even if he had his back towards you and you couldn’t see it, a small smile resting on his face when you didn’t question it further.
You felt silent after that, putting your attention on sowing the skin back together correctly. Like any other respectable local crime-fighter, you were used to tending your own wounds and you didn’t care if it wasn’t perfect, but you wanted to do a good job for him, so you needed to focus.
“I do want you to know me, by the way.” His soft voice broke the silence after a while, referring to your earlier comment, making you startle out of what you’ve been focusing on. “I was just trying to protect you.”
You took a moment to take in his words, taking a deep breath before you continued stitching, needing to be calm to be more precise with your stitches. “From what? You know if someone comes after me I’ll just ki-” you started, your tone light, but decided to rephrase. “…kick their ass.”
Matt chuckled at that, nodding in agreement knowing very well how you could handle things yourself, even if he preferred rushing to help you every time you stepped foot in the Kitchen. “I appreciate how you changed that sentence.”
You smiled behind him at the sound of his laughter, sighing before speaking again. “Y'know, I respect your boundaries but… I’ve had your tongue in my mouth and I don’t even know if you’re cute or not. Hell, we’re in your apartment! You’re shirtless! And I still don’t know! It’s getting ridiculous.” You exclaimed with amusement, finishing the stitches and cutting the thread.
“See? I can’t show you my face now, what if you think I’m ugly? You might not let me put my tongue in your mouth again.” He joked, his face scrunching under the mask at how stupid his words sounded.
“You can’t be serious right now.” You deadpanned after a moment of silence, a long gauze in your hands as you stared at his freckled, scarred back.
Matt’s chest bubbled with laughter making you laugh with him, his back muscles protesting but he didn’t care. He went silent again to bring the energy down before speaking again. “Do you picture me a certain way?”
“Honestly? Not really. In my mind this thing is your actual face.” You said lightly knocking on the top part of the horned mask.
“My best friend says I’m really good looking, if that helps.” Matt shrugged, smiling, feeling how you carefully pressed the bandage against his skin so it would stick to it. You were finished.
“It doesn’t, thank you.” You quickly answered, making him laugh again.
Matt’s hand reached behind him until he found your knee beside his hip, resting his hand there to caress your skin, a fond smile appearing on his face as he thought about something.
You placed your hand on top of his to squeeze it, leaving a kiss on his shoulder before getting up to throw all the bloodied gauze and everything you used in the trash.
You told Matt what you were doing as you moved around his kitchen, filling a glass of water after getting rid of the used supplies to bring it to him with an Advil from a big bottle you saw on the counter. He probably went through those like crazy, even if it did little to nothing to help with the level of pain his regular injuries brought him. He has sat like a champ while you stitched him though.
Matt didn’t need you to tell him your steps, he could hear it, but he still appreciated it. You were still facing the counter when he decided that you were right before. He couldn’t help but smile just thinking about what your reaction was going to be. Even if he didn’t know that much about your life, he did know you, and he was way more than fond of you.
You turned to head back to the couch, glass in one hand, pill on the other when the sight of a brown mess of fluffy hair froze you in place, letting out an audible gasp. That was his head. His actual head, not the smooth dark read mask. No horns in sight. Just fluff. You didn’t know how you didn’t drop the glass at the sight.
Matt chuckled in response, waiting for you to move, his head slightly tilting to the side to focus on you. You were just standing there, in silence. And he could feel you staring at the back of his head.
He raised a hand to wave at you to come. “C’mon sweetheart, don’t just stay there, I thought you wanted to see it.” His amusement grew as he listened to your heart go crazy inside your chest, making his beat fast with anticipation as well.
Matt’s smile widened when he finally heard you move, slowly stepping closer to him as you walked around the couch to meet his face.
You were met with his amused face. Kind brown eyes staring blankly at your general direction while his smile made the corners of his eyes crinkle.
That man was so fucking handsome. He looked so good sprawled on the couch, shirtless, mussed hair and a smile plastered on his face.
You didn’t even know what to say next. It was not only that he was trusting you with his identity and he turned out to be hot as fuck, it was the implications of him opening to you after months of fighting alongise each other, of making you furious but leaving you wanting more every single time, of inevitably and desperately making out on whatever rooftops ot alley you were at the moment, of taking care of each other.
Matt’s hand reaching outwards brought you back from your thoughts and you let out the breath you had been holding while you finally passed him the glass and the pill.
“So?” He asked before swallowing the pill with some of the water.
“Huh?” Still shocked, you went back to your previous spot on the couch, sitting facing Matt.
“Am I cute or not?” He raised a brow, a smirk forming on his lips.
“I can’t believe you just did that.” You breathed out.
“So I’m not cute.” Matt joked, turning his head towards you with that almost permanent smile he had been wearing on his face, even when he was beaten up and cut open.
"No, you’re like, ridiculously handsome.” You sighed, temptatively reaching for his face, the tips of your fingers tracing his brow, then the side of his face. Matt’s eyes fluttered close and his smirk softened into a smile.
He huffed a laugh and placed a gentle yet firm hand on your face to coax you into leaning in for a kiss.
Your lips found Matt’s and melted into a soft, slow kiss, taking your time to enjoy the gentle brush of his lips against yours. This wasn’t how it normally happened. Most of the time your make out sessions started all riled up from fighting crime and it would be all tongue and teeth and grunts and moans.
But that was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, you were with Matt now and he kissed with so much fondness and gentle passion it made you dizzy.
The intensity of his kisses grew when you hummed in delight and snaked a hand to the back of his neck, moving closer to him.
His free hand rested on your hip, squeezing the flesh as he kept kissing, softly sucking on your lower lip.
“I’m serious, Matt.” You said in between kisses but he barely let you speak, kissing you again and making you laugh into the kiss.
His hands trailed down your thigh, taking a hold on the back of your knee to make you straddle him, wanting to have you closer, but he hissed in pain when the fresh stitches on his back tugged at the inflamed skin.
You moved the hand you had on his neck down to his chest to stop him, caressing one of those large scars. “Take it easy, Devil.”
“I’m fine”. He huffed, leaning in for another kiss, but you pulled away just enough so he wouldn’t reach. “C’mere.”
You sighed watching the pout he had the audacity to give you, but you ended up carefully straddling his thigh.
Matt smiled as you sat on him, his hands landing on your thighs before moving up to your waist where he finally hugged you.
You kissed his satisfied smile, making him hug you tighter, and his mouth left yours to brush down your jaw to your neck, where he buried his face in, nuzzling against your skin to bask in your scent, humming in content. Something he’d wanted to do for a long time.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, threading one of your hands with his soft hair and smiling to yourself. “You should take me out on a date first, don’t you think?” You let out, Matt being able to hear your smile in your voice, twirling a strand of his hair on your finger, something you’d wanted to do for a long time.
He chuckled and stroked the small of your back. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m planning on it.” He said before placing a small kiss on the crook your neck, making you shiver.
“Then perhaps I should get going… or we’re never gonna get to the first date.” You proposed but made no attempt to pull away yet, your hands still playing with his hair.
“You're…not wrong.” He admitted, rubbing his face against your skin and almost purring. It was the first time you two did this in private and it was the first time he was able to feel your skin and smell you and simply appreciate you properly. And the way you were playing with his hair wasn’t helping him on having to let you go. So, even though you would be leaving soon, he wanted to indulge in this for as long as possible. “But give me a few more minutes, I promise I’ll behave.”
Matt felt you chuckle and smiled against your neck. “When have you ever behaved?” You joked, giving his hair a gentle tug, getting a delighted grunt from him as he tightened his hold on you.
“Don’t do that or I won’t be able to keep my promise…”
You ended up deciding to stay. There was no way in Hell you could just get up and leave when the other option was staying and enjoying his kisses, his beautiful face, the warmth of his body against yours and his soft hair between your fingers.
As much as you couldn’t wait for that date he said he would take you to, you were more than content with this for now.
Summary: The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is a pain in the ass, but he’s always there when you need him. You just wished he’d let you know who he was.
Word count:2224
Warnings: fluff, depictions of violence but nothing graphic, things get steamy but no smut (making out, grinding).
A/N: You guys this is a bit of a mess ksndkskfkd I’ve been having a hard time writing but I still wanted to finish this. Definitely not my best but here it is anyway.
Please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment if you enjoyed it <3
Matt was in the middle of jumping from one rooftop to the other when a waft of your smell hit him, distracting him just enough to land terribly on the next roof. Your scent was mixed with adrenaline, sweat and gunpowder. He huffed as he pulled himself up, pausing to hear closely where you were.
a/n: I thought this up randomly and I’m kinda obsessed with the idea of someone doing this for Matt. I think it’d be really cute and I needed to write it out.
word count: 1.4k
You lay with Matt resting bonelessly between your thighs, your fingers thoughtlessly running through his hair, basking in the afterglow of your previous activities.
All was peacefully silent in his apartment, the only noise being both of your calming breaths. Though that was all you heard, you couldn’t even imagine the sounds and scents that must be filling Matt’s senses. You often wondered what it was like for him to live with such a thing.
You always took notice of Matt. When he would squeeze his eyes tightly because there was just too much noise going on around him, when he would stifle a gag because there were too many mixing scents, when he would shift on the bed because there were too many differing textures. There were a number of times where you had seen Matt simply overwhelmed by the world around him.
You always tried to help as best you could.
You hear Matt inhale deeply from where his head lay, his face cuddled against your neck. You feel him smile, his lips soft.
“I think I could find you from anywhere in Hell’s Kitchen,” Matt spoke randomly, the smile still on his face. Your bodies moved as you laughed lightly. The sound of your laughter bounced around the room as it intensified from Matt nipping at your throat playfully.
“That’s random,” you replied once your laughter ceased, mentioning the previous silence. You tried to angle your neck to get a look at his face but Matt kept himself tight against you. Matt’s hand drifted down to caress his knuckles along your bare torso. You noted the warmth in his touch and the rough texture of his hands. Your fingers moved through his hair as he subtly shook his head.
“Everyone has a different scent and it’s constantly changing. It can be overwhelming. But you… you smell the same. Always. It’s become imprinted in my memory, I am more sure of it than I am of most. And I think I could find your scent anywhere,” he admits softly as he curls further against you, his nose brushing against your skin. The weight of him on you was comforting. It was as grounding as your scent was to him.
“Does it help?” You ask, having always wondered if all your attempts were in vain or not. His lips now ghosting along your collarbone, his warm breath now igniting goosebumps along your arms.
“It helps a lot. It calms me down if I’m being honest,” he admits, planting a soft kiss on your sternum before snuggling back against your throat. You sigh in relief, your body relaxing more into the mattress. Your hands slip from his hair and sweep along his back, the muscles there shifting from your touch.
“Your scent brings me comfort too,” you say back, a smile forming on your lips as well. Matt hums and it vibrates through your body like an electric current. Even the littlest thing he did to you made you feel more alive than you remember ever feeling before.
“I think you do it on purpose,” he states, making your eyes shoot open from their closed and relaxed state. Your hands stop their movements and you feel Matt jerk with a short chuckle.
“What do you mean?” You ask, making your voice light and airy. But you knew Matt would sense your increased heartbeat. Even as you tried to breathe evenly, you knew you’d fail to conceal anything.
Matt shifts and your arms fall around his waist, your arms wrapped around him. He braces his forearms on the mattress and he lifts himself off you slightly and all just so you can witness the look he sends you, lips pursed and brow raised.
“Don’t play dumb, darling,” he says, the start of a grin twitching in the corner of his mouth. Your arms tighten around him, making his expression soften. You look over his features, not truly being able to believe this man was yours.
“I notice everything, Matty,” you start softly, a little embarrassed to be admitting this to him. “Everything about you. I know this gift you’ve been given can feel like a curse… but when you’re with me, I don’t want you to feel that way,” you express, finishing strong. A hand moves to cup his cheek and he immediately falls into it, his eyes closing as he accepts its comfort. His scruff tickles your hand but you enjoy the sensation.
“So how do you do it all?” He asks, eyes still closed. Your eyes catch how his eyelashes fall against his cheek and your heart flutters. Your chest feels tight, revealing this to him. You never did it so that he would acknowledge it as if you were doing something special. You only ever did it to make him more comfortable.
“I use the same scent for everything. Body wash and shampoo, perfume, and soap so the different smells don’t overwhelm you. And I match a lot of my outfits too so no matter if you’re holding my waist or my thigh, you’ll feel the similar textures of fabric. You know, stuff like that I guess…” you share, your voice trailing off, your eyes darting to look over his shoulder.
After a few long moments of silence, you gather enough courage to look back to his face. His eyes are now open and wide, darting around uncontrollably. His lips are parted as he inhales and exhales shaky breaths. He’s speechless. And you don’t know how to take that. Worry builds within you the longer it takes for him to reply which causes your chest to tighten and your brows to furrow deeply. Your hand falls back to his waist, unsure of his reaction.
Matt doesn’t speak first. First, he moves to balance on his elbows as his hands fall to your face, slowly tracing your features. He chuckles breathlessly as he smooths out the lines between your brows. He traces the shape of your face, your nose, your cheeks, your mouth, and your chin. His hands rest against your neck as his thumbs graze your jaw. You merely scan his features as you lay there silently, waiting for him to speak. You note the disbelief on his face and wonder what he’s thinking.
“I love you… so damn much. I- I can’t believe— you do— shit,” Matt whispers brokenly and a giant exhale follows from you. You smile widely, your hands coming up to grasp his shoulders tightly. You shrug a little, knowing he can feel it.
“What can I say? I kind of love you too,” you say followed by a few giggles of laughter. A large smile breaks out across Matt’s face as he laughs heartily.
“Kind of?” He asks incredulously, raising his voice to add effect. It forces out a few more laughs before you lean up and plant a soft kiss beneath his earlobe.
“Do what you did with your tongue again and I’ll lose the kind of,” you whisper in his ear. You feel a huff of laughter against your neck before you lean back to face him.
“Alright, I’m gonna kiss you now,” he says with a grin. You shake your head, a look of faux disapproval on your face.
“Not the tongue thing I was talking about,” you say, letting the look on your face shine through your tone as he leans in closer and closer to kiss you.
“Shut up,” he says through a small laugh before his lips mold against yours. You sigh into the kiss, letting both of you fall back against the bed.
His lips are soft against yours and his tongue is smooth as it glides across your own. His hands hold you firmly. You can feel the effect of your kiss on your thigh but it doesn’t disrupt the kiss and the calmness of it. You feel his warmth surround you, blocking out the rest of the world. In this brief moment, it’s only you and him and the senses between you. No one else’s.
You only break apart once the sting of pain in your lungs reminds you that you cannot kiss Matt forever, despite your own wishes. Matt continues to lean over you, nose brushing against your own.
“Not what I was hoping for… but not bad…” you say breathlessly and with a smile on your face. Your eyes focus on Matt to see his expression serious. His thumbs reach up to swipe back and forth across your cheek.
“You are my sanctuary,” he says lowly, taking his time to say them. Your heart melts as you can feel the intensity in the meaning of his words.
a/n: I thought this up randomly and I’m kinda obsessed with the idea of someone doing this for Matt. I think it’d be really cute and I needed to write it out.
word count: 1.4k
You lay with Matt resting bonelessly between your thighs, your fingers thoughtlessly running through his hair, basking in the afterglow of your previous activities.
All was peacefully silent in his apartment, the only noise being both of your calming breaths. Though that was all you heard, you couldn’t even imagine the sounds and scents that must be filling Matt’s senses. You often wondered what it was like for him to live with such a thing.
You always took notice of Matt. When he would squeeze his eyes tightly because there was just too much noise going on around him, when he would stifle a gag because there were too many mixing scents, when he would shift on the bed because there were too many differing textures. There were a number of times where you had seen Matt simply overwhelmed by the world around him.
You always tried to help as best you could.
You hear Matt inhale deeply from where his head lay, his face cuddled against your neck. You feel him smile, his lips soft.
“I think I could find you from anywhere in Hell’s Kitchen,” Matt spoke randomly, the smile still on his face. Your bodies moved as you laughed lightly. The sound of your laughter bounced around the room as it intensified from Matt nipping at your throat playfully.
“That’s random,” you replied once your laughter ceased, mentioning the previous silence. You tried to angle your neck to get a look at his face but Matt kept himself tight against you. Matt’s hand drifted down to caress his knuckles along your bare torso. You noted the warmth in his touch and the rough texture of his hands. Your fingers moved through his hair as he subtly shook his head.
“Everyone has a different scent and it’s constantly changing. It can be overwhelming. But you… you smell the same. Always. It’s become imprinted in my memory, I am more sure of it than I am of most. And I think I could find your scent anywhere,” he admits softly as he curls further against you, his nose brushing against your skin. The weight of him on you was comforting. It was as grounding as your scent was to him.
“Does it help?” You ask, having always wondered if all your attempts were in vain or not. His lips now ghosting along your collarbone, his warm breath now igniting goosebumps along your arms.
“It helps a lot. It calms me down if I’m being honest,” he admits, planting a soft kiss on your sternum before snuggling back against your throat. You sigh in relief, your body relaxing more into the mattress. Your hands slip from his hair and sweep along his back, the muscles there shifting from your touch.
“Your scent brings me comfort too,” you say back, a smile forming on your lips as well. Matt hums and it vibrates through your body like an electric current. Even the littlest thing he did to you made you feel more alive than you remember ever feeling before.
“I think you do it on purpose,” he states, making your eyes shoot open from their closed and relaxed state. Your hands stop their movements and you feel Matt jerk with a short chuckle.
“What do you mean?” You ask, making your voice light and airy. But you knew Matt would sense your increased heartbeat. Even as you tried to breathe evenly, you knew you’d fail to conceal anything.
Matt shifts and your arms fall around his waist, your arms wrapped around him. He braces his forearms on the mattress and he lifts himself off you slightly and all just so you can witness the look he sends you, lips pursed and brow raised.
“Don’t play dumb, darling,” he says, the start of a grin twitching in the corner of his mouth. Your arms tighten around him, making his expression soften. You look over his features, not truly being able to believe this man was yours.
“I notice everything, Matty,” you start softly, a little embarrassed to be admitting this to him. “Everything about you. I know this gift you’ve been given can feel like a curse… but when you’re with me, I don’t want you to feel that way,” you express, finishing strong. A hand moves to cup his cheek and he immediately falls into it, his eyes closing as he accepts its comfort. His scruff tickles your hand but you enjoy the sensation.
“So how do you do it all?” He asks, eyes still closed. Your eyes catch how his eyelashes fall against his cheek and your heart flutters. Your chest feels tight, revealing this to him. You never did it so that he would acknowledge it as if you were doing something special. You only ever did it to make him more comfortable.
“I use the same scent for everything. Body wash and shampoo, perfume, and soap so the different smells don’t overwhelm you. And I match a lot of my outfits too so no matter if you’re holding my waist or my thigh, you’ll feel the similar textures of fabric. You know, stuff like that I guess…” you share, your voice trailing off, your eyes darting to look over his shoulder.
After a few long moments of silence, you gather enough courage to look back to his face. His eyes are now open and wide, darting around uncontrollably. His lips are parted as he inhales and exhales shaky breaths. He’s speechless. And you don’t know how to take that. Worry builds within you the longer it takes for him to reply which causes your chest to tighten and your brows to furrow deeply. Your hand falls back to his waist, unsure of his reaction.
Matt doesn’t speak first. First, he moves to balance on his elbows as his hands fall to your face, slowly tracing your features. He chuckles breathlessly as he smooths out the lines between your brows. He traces the shape of your face, your nose, your cheeks, your mouth, and your chin. His hands rest against your neck as his thumbs graze your jaw. You merely scan his features as you lay there silently, waiting for him to speak. You note the disbelief on his face and wonder what he’s thinking.
“I love you… so damn much. I- I can’t believe— you do— shit,” Matt whispers brokenly and a giant exhale follows from you. You smile widely, your hands coming up to grasp his shoulders tightly. You shrug a little, knowing he can feel it.
“What can I say? I kind of love you too,” you say followed by a few giggles of laughter. A large smile breaks out across Matt’s face as he laughs heartily.
“Kind of?” He asks incredulously, raising his voice to add effect. It forces out a few more laughs before you lean up and plant a soft kiss beneath his earlobe.
“Do what you did with your tongue again and I’ll lose the kind of,” you whisper in his ear. You feel a huff of laughter against your neck before you lean back to face him.
“Alright, I’m gonna kiss you now,” he says with a grin. You shake your head, a look of faux disapproval on your face.
“Not the tongue thing I was talking about,” you say, letting the look on your face shine through your tone as he leans in closer and closer to kiss you.
“Shut up,” he says through a small laugh before his lips mold against yours. You sigh into the kiss, letting both of you fall back against the bed.
His lips are soft against yours and his tongue is smooth as it glides across your own. His hands hold you firmly. You can feel the effect of your kiss on your thigh but it doesn’t disrupt the kiss and the calmness of it. You feel his warmth surround you, blocking out the rest of the world. In this brief moment, it’s only you and him and the senses between you. No one else’s.
You only break apart once the sting of pain in your lungs reminds you that you cannot kiss Matt forever, despite your own wishes. Matt continues to lean over you, nose brushing against your own.
“Not what I was hoping for… but not bad…” you say breathlessly and with a smile on your face. Your eyes focus on Matt to see his expression serious. His thumbs reach up to swipe back and forth across your cheek.
“You are my sanctuary,” he says lowly, taking his time to say them. Your heart melts as you can feel the intensity in the meaning of his words.
a/n im almost done with my matt x ex black widow! fic, and i really wanted to have it done before my friends come visit for NYE but im not sure it’ll happen and i really wanted to give you guys something before i disappear for my tiny reunion bc yall have been so supportive with the BW fic so here’s a very mini series idea that came to me…
i wanted to write this bc this idea has been so soft in my head for the past couple of days and ive been binging jane the virgin again so im all over the ‘even when im pissed off, i’m going to show up bc that’s what family does’ trope bc it fits so well with matt bc of all the secrets he keeps lmaoo
also the timeline for the actual show was not my priority in making this and you can kinda tell lol so pls don’t dwell on the details on who knows matt’s identity and other stuff
summary: After finding out that Matt Murdock, the lawyer you’ve been working closely with and befriended faster than you thought possible, is actually Daredevil, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to trust him again. But that doesn’t mean you have the heart to leave him to face his demons on his own. So you agree to stay around for 48 hours, because that’s the only way to assure that he won’t do something stupid (which is extortion if you think about it, but what are you going to do) Too bad the main problem with being alone with him is that it makes ignoring those budding feelings you’d been fighting against that much harder to ignore.
trigger warnings: i cant write someone being mad without sounding kinda annoying bc i only know how to be petty lmao, emotional dependency (not the healthiest relationship take lowkey lol but it gets resolved by the end of the mini-series, i promise), matt lowkey being toxic but that one’s on me (it gets fixed and kinda justified lol it just doesn’t look great without the context that you get at the end of the mini-series)
—-
Foggy and Karen left. Either my (not so) subtle jabs and dirty looks were too much or they came to the conclusion that the only person that should and could deal with the real fall out of what happened a few hours ago was Matt. What made them think it was a good idea to let such an injured man face the blunt of my anger, I have no idea. I guess it has to do with the fact that apparently Matt can take a lot more than he’s been letting on.
He’s still slumped on the couch, body wilted in on itself, broken and bruised. A strange combination of guilt and fury twist in me. I want to help him; I want to pick up the stupid vase on his ottoman and throw it at his head. How could I have been so stupid?
Matt shifts, a soft groan falling from his lips. Great, he’s awake. That’s part of the reason everyone left so quickly…they knew that I’d have stormed out of Matt’s apartment if anyone else was there to make sure that he didn’t bleed out to death on his couch. A very unlikely thing, but my conscience wouldn’t let me walk away until I saw him awake.
And now I’ve seen him awake, so there’s no point in still being here. He’s silent, and his face is turned away from me, so I can’t see if his eyes are open, but I know that he’s awake. Which apparently means he knows I’m standing here.
“I know you’re awake,” I mumble, “and that that means you know I’m here.” I scoff, crossing my arms in front of me. “Apparently.”
He twists his body against the couch. His movements are rigid, pained. I want to move. I want to help him, but all of my energy is going into staying together and not succumbing to the strangled feeling in my throat.
It’s choking me. The feeling of shock, of worry, of anger, and of–of betrayal. All of those sentiments swirl in my chest, pulsing through my body at a rate that’s nauseating.
And now he’s just staring at me–wide, brown eyes swirling with emotions I don’t understand. Emotions I don’t want to understand, because if I let myself think about it, about how alone he must feel right now, I’ll push aside everything I’m feeling.
He’s not a villain for this. He doesn’t owe you anything. The rational part of me reflects on these thoughts as he blinks at me, waiting for some kind of response. He’s in pain, that much is clear, and just standing here goes against all of my instincts. I’ve never seen him this broken before, but I guess I apparently have. I’ve helped Daredevil–I, I cleaned deep wounds for him at least three times, and I’ve aided Matt Murdock more than I can count. But apparently all of that was unnecessary.
“Can you tell what I’m thinking too or do you still need me to say that out loud?”
The corners of his mouth pull down, he’s practically wincing. “I can’t–I’ve never been able to read minds. Being able to hear someone’s breathing patterns isn’t exactly telepathy.”
I grind my teeth together. “You’re not actually trying to be funny right now.” He can’t brush this aside, smooth over this revelation with his soft little half smiles and heart torn eyes. “Because I’m not even sure if you’re actually blind or if that’s all a cover so that people don’t know that you’re–”
“I’m blind.” He moves like he wants to sit up, but the motion is never completed. Matt cuts himself off with a wince. My nails dig into my palms to stop myself from rushing towards him. “I can’t see the way other people see, but I can–there are things I sense, things I hear, things I smell.” He swallows once. “And I–I don’t tell people, obviously. But I–I’ll tell you everything, if you’ll listen, I’ll–”
“Don’t waste your breath.” I mean it, I mean it with my entire chest and a small part of me hates myself for it. And I–I resent him for making me feel this way about him. “I won’t believe any of it anyways, and to be honest, I don’t see the point in talking when I don’t even know who I’m talking to.” My voice almost wavers, his eyes turn into even deeper vats of emotion. Don’t look at them. Don’t fall for it. “So Matt Murdock, good guy lawyer, or the illusive Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, or whoever the hell you are–goodbye.”
The last word hurts the most. It’s an ending without a conclusion. A sore wound destined to never heal. I swallow the grief that lumps in my throat as I turn towards the door to his apartment.
“L/n.” My name is tired but not soft. Keep walking. I hear him shift against his couch, and once again the urge to help him is drowning me. He doesn’t need your help, if he’s capable of jumping over dumpsters and fighting crime bosses, he’s capable of walking in his own damn apartment. “Y–y/n, don’t go.” My nails dig even further into the palm of my skin. Go. “It’s not–this isn’t about me, there are people that want to hurt you and I–I can’t protect you right now.”
How hurt must he be for him to openly admit that he can’t do anything right now? My stomach knots. Stop caring. “Have you ever stopped for a second to consider that maybe I don’t want your protection? I’ve lived most of my life without you, placing myself in risky situations for my career, and I’ve managed. So just–stay here, try not to get anything infected, and leave me alone.”
“The people that you’ve written those articles about are nothing compared to the kinds of people I’m dealing with. And they’re going to go after you.”
The seriousness of his tone is enough to make me hesitate. I’m furious at him, but it’s not like I can dismiss facts. “What–what makes you think they’d go after me?”
He hesitates, expression still mortally wounded in a way that makes me desperate to comfort him. “They’ve seen you with me.”
“You mean they’ve seen me with your vigilante alter ego.” He’s silent, I cross my arms over my chest. “Who I’ve–cleaned wounds for and-and talked to about personal things, and the entire time it was actually you. And you let me come into the office the next day and you–you knew what I was thinking, what I had gone through the night before, and you didn’t–” This is such a stupid thing to dwell on. “And–and Foggy knew, and Karen knew, and–you all knew and you let me be such an idiot!” I clamp my mouth shut after those words. There it is, for both of us to see–the deepest part of my emotional wound.
Matt stills for a moment, and then all of his strength goes into him shifting into a sitting position. His expression remains hard, pained. I push down the instinct to do something, anything. “L/n.” I should run out of here. I should have run out of here the moment I realized he was still alive and my conscience was made clear by the fact that I didn’t let him bleed out on his couch. “That’s what this is about.”
“No, this is about the fact that you’re an untrustworthy liar that made me feel like I was going crazy.” My stomach knots, but its too late to back down. “And also, maybe, a little bit about the fact that I finally felt like I found people. My people, good people that I could trust.”
“You did. You have.” I scoff. “We just wanted to protect you.” The pleading behind his eyes is unbearable. “I just wanted to protect you, and I made them keep it from you.”
“You know my entire life I’ve always felt like I’ve cared more about other people than they do about me. I’ve had so many people use me for stories or my–my family, and I thought I finally found something more than that.” My voice is shaking, and I’m torn between running out of his apartment and punching him in the stomach or something else stupid and petty. “And you took that from me–and that–that really sucks.”
“I know.” He has no defense. There is no defense.
My shoulders fall. “I have an article due tomorrow night, so…” Not the ending I want, but maybe that’s for the best. I’m not in the headspace to get closure…nothing permanent will bring me peace right now. “I um–I don’t think I’ll be in the office tomorrow.”
He shifts again, with a little more force. I think he’s trying to stand. Don’t help. “L/n.” My last name again, what he’s called me most since the day I first met him. It no longer makes my stomach flutter the way it once did. Or, I guess it still kind of does, but these butterflies are different…these hurt. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Have a totally normal reaction to realizing that every important person in my life has been lying to me?” I shake my head, the irony of it all making me want to laugh. “You know I thought the biggest lie I’d have to deal with this year is finding out about all the criminal things my dad had been doing and the origin of our family money. But no, the biggest lie has to do with my dad’s enemy who happens–”
“It wasn’t like that. You know it wasn’t like that.” A lie is a lie. It doesn’t matter. “Your father lied to manipulate you into thinking he changed, I kept a secret so that you’d be safe.”
Whatever. It doesn’t matter. “I won’t be in tomorrow,” I repeat, voice a little more settled. Resigned. I wish I could say I never want to see him again. I wish I could feel like that–like I have the strength to not care about what happens to him. “If you could um–if you could text me or get someone to text me every day or every other day?” My face burns. I wipe my face with the back of my palm. “I don’t think I’ll text back, but I’ll be able to sleep, and I don’t know what you owe me, but I think it’s at least that much.”
I reach for the front door, finally pulling it open. The air in the hall feels a lot colder than it did before. Some sound I can’t name forces me to stop. It’s–it’s broken. I turn around despite myself…he’s…I think he’s crying, but there’s something more to the sound than tears. Something desperate and breathy. Is he hyperventilating?
“Matt?” My voice is smaller than I wanted it to be and my hand has yet to let go of the door to his apartment.
I turn on my heels, nervously looking behind me. He’s slumped forward, his back hunched in a way that makes it impossible to see his face. Is he–no, walk away. You don’t care. I will myself to move, to remember all the lying and the confusion I felt and…screw it, who am I kidding? I give into my instincts, rushing to his side on the couch.
My hand is on his shoulder before I can stop myself. “H-hey, you’re okay.”
He shakes his head. I catch more of the bruises on the left side of his face than I had before. Pity pulses through me. “Don’t go.” Now his voice is small. Smaller than I’ve ever heard it be. “Don’t–I don’t know what–”
“Matt…” Okay, I don’t have to be vindictive about the whole walking out on him thing right now. There will be plenty of time to be angry with him later, once he’s more stable and–and better. “This isn’t fair.” He says nothing, still too lost in his crisis. “You really hurt me, and I’m allowed to be mad at you. I should be able to be mad without feeling guilty.” I run my hand up and down his arm as gently as possible. He exhales lightly at the extended contact. I bite my tongue to avoid losing anymore self control. “I’m going to go, and you’re going to be okay.”
My fingers slowly detach themselves from him. I pull away with a patience I don’t feel. I move to stand, but at the last second his hand latches onto my arm. “Don’t go, I–I know what they’re planning.”
“Planning?”
He winces when I pull away from his touch. “They’re going to go after you because of me.” The guilt in his voice is another knife in my stomach. “You know it’s true.” My breath catches in my chest. Matt must sense it, or hear it, or whatever he does, because he shifts again. When he grabs my forearm, I let him. “Be as mad as you want, but be mad here.”
I swallow once, forcing my back to straighten. A clean, healthy break. We need it. “Matt–”
He moves again, his fingers tactfully pressing into my skin. “I need you.” The words hang there, as heavy as my heart. “And that’s not–that’s not something that I can just say.”
Oh my god…Okay, I have to get out of here. Now or never. Just stand up, just–ugh. Who the hell am I kidding? “You know you’re really good at laying on the guilt when you want to.”
“One of the many benefits of being a devoted Catholic.”
If things were any better, I’d laugh. But they’re not. “I um-I really appreciate what you said, I know that that’s not easy for you.”
His eyes are doing that terribly compelling, kicked puppy thing. How can I want to be away from him as badly as I want to be near him? He moves his hand slowly, cautiously. I let him intertwine our fingers. Matt drops his head slightly, lifting our joined hands to his forehead. I sigh, ignoring the sentiments that bubble in my chest. Okay, two minutes, I can sit here for two minutes–that won’t kill anyone. Probably.
He moves my hand again. I let him until I feel the brush of his lips against the back of my palm. Even before I was this angry, I was wary of soft gestures like that. “What are–” No, don’t ask what he’s doing, just make sure he stops it. “What you’re doing isn’t healthy and it’s not going to work.” I mean it–or at least, I want to mean it with every fiber of my being. “I can’t trust you anymore and that hurts and I–I need time to deal with that. Alone. And there’s nothing you can do or say to change that, to change what you did.”
Matt’s silence is not safe. It doesn’t feel like acceptance because that would be too easy. He’s plotting, he has to be. “Are you sure?” What kind of question is that? “I’ll do anything.” I stay still, ignoring the nerves swelling in my chest. “I’ll do anything you want, l/n. Just–just don’t go.”
I press my lips together into a hard line. His stupid, soft eyes and messy hair…and the-the needy look behind his eyes. I’m only human. I have weaknesses. Okay–I’ve hit my limit, if I don’t get out now, I may never follow through. “What I want is to feel like I can trust you.” I pull my hand away, creating the distance between us that I need to be capable of rational thought. “And to feel like you’re not going to do something stupid while all those ribs are still broken and your lung is partially collapsed or…”
“Okay.” His voice is so assured, so certain, my panic stalls.
“What do you mean okay?”
He still looks like a rejected puppy. “Stay and–and I’ll take the night off. I’ll focus on meditating and I’ll answer all of your questions if you want to ask, and–”
Is he really using the fact that I don’t want him hunting down dangerous criminals while he’s half dead to his advantage? “Are you seriously trying to extort me right now?” I sigh, anger and dread spiking in me all over again. “And–and meditating? What does that have to do with anything?”
“I heal faster when I meditate.”
Uneasy laughter cuts through me. The sound must be more nervous than I thought because Matt stalls. “I’m sorry–you heal faster when you meditate? Why did you never call Tony Stark? You have enough going on to be a freaking Avenger or something.”
His expression makes it clear that he doesn’t know whether or not I’m actually snapping. “It’d get in the way of the day job.”
“Right, the ever important separate worlds thing. That’s why you kept me around, right?” I scratch the back of my arm, discomfort settling in my stomach. “Everyone in your circle knew the truth and you wanted to feel normal and you met me and could tell how much I wanted to belong somewhere and–”
“No,” he tries to sit up further, but his body is too tired, “it wasn’t like that at all. You know that.”
“Do I?” I sit up a little straighter. “What um–what was real and what was fake?” My eyes focus on the wall in front of him. “About us, I mean, because I–I really cared about—I still care about you because I’m still sitting on this couch even though I should have left the second I was sure you weren’t going to bleed out.”
“All of it.”
“Even when you were comforting me over my father? Or were you just trying to get the information you needed to stop him?”
He frowns. “Y/n–”
“Forget it.” I wipe my hands on my jeans. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“It does.”
I shake my head once even though he can’t see it. “So you think people are after me?”
Matt hesitates. “…I know they are.”
His tone is clear–he’s not going to give me any details on how he’s so sure that I’m in danger. “And if–if I stay you’re not going to do anything stupid until you’re better?”
“I think Hell’s Kitchen will survive a night without me.”
Oh–he’s insane. I blink twice, shocked at how one person can be so deluded. “A night? No–I saw how much blood you lost.” He opens his mouth to protest, but he’s gotten his way enough today. “And keep in mind how angry I am and what you’re asking of me. You need a full recovery.”
“I’ll be honest about how I’m feeling in the morning.”
He is in no position to negotiate. “The only person in any position to make arguments here is me, and I saw you throw up blood, and–and Foggy had to say a lot to keep me from dragging your ass to a hospital.” I should have just left him outside of an ER. “72 hours–that’s standard for—“
“You don’t know what I need–”
“No, but I know that our entire friendship was based on lies.”
Now it’s his turn to press his lips together. “It wasn’t.”
“Tell that to my father, who you got arrested with information that you got from me when I thought you were just my friend.” I fold my hands on my lap. “You know I would have helped you if you had just told me the truth.”
Maybe my voice sounds just small enough to appeal to the part of him that’s decent enough to feel bad about all the lying. “48 hours. I’ll stay if you stay.”
I wipe my face with the palm of my hand, inhaling sharply in an attempt to clear my thoughts. Two days with him is the last thing I want right now. “Fine.” This doesn’t mean anything…he’s feeling panicky now, but that will pass, and then I’ll be able to walk away and deal with my own hurt. “But I’m not going to be nice to you, and I’m only doing it so that I don’t have to end up writing a news article about a dead body in a devil’s suit found in a dumpster.”
His expression is still tinged by that sad, innocent look. “The people here need me in that suit, I’m not going to apologize for that.”
“And I needed you.” Great, this is a level of vulnerability I didn’t want to reach here. “I needed you as a friend, as someone I trusted.” I grip the arm of his couch as I force myself to stand. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
These next 48 hours are going to be so much fun.
—-
if youre interested in part 2 lmk :)) and if this is really bad bc i wrote this while very tired i am sorry!! im still getting used to writing matt and even though i love him very much im still working on his voice :)
