#dark!daredevil

You come from a military background, your father and his father before both served in their youth.

You opted out to be in a dorm to save money on tuition and just stayed with your parents and drive to campus. 

One day when you come home you find your dad sitting at the dining room table laughing with a muscular handsome man his age. 

“This is Frank, I served with him when I was young.” 

He’s one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen in your entire life. 

You mutter a simple “hi” and “thank you for your service.” But he just looks you up and down carnally under your father's attention and a blush pinched your cheeks. 

Frank started coming around the house more often saying how he just moved to the area. He’d come over for dinner, or have a few drinks and sit in the humid spring evening weather at the glass patio table or play pool in the basement. 

Sometimes they’d let you play pool with them. Usually when your dad had too much to drink and became a lousy shot according to Frank. So you took over his turn.

Frank said it’s important that pretty girls know how to play pool so they can impress men in bars. 

That night your dad had gone upstairs to go to bed knowing Frank could let himself out after the two of you finished. 

Frank had you bent over, pressed against your hips, his hand on the low of your back, his affirming whisper in your ear as he guided you to line up the shot. 

Your skin was burning and you couldn’t focus on the game at hand when you were throbbing. 

You could smell the beer on his breath as his hand guided down the small of your back to your ass over your favorite daisy duke short shorts you put on specifically when he came around. 

“Now, take the shot, pretty girl.” His touch became more aggressive as he grabbed your ass roughly. 

You tried not to hiccup as you took the shot, the cue ball striking the ball and bouncing it back missing the hole. 

“Aw well, sweetheart.” He swatted your ass making you whimper and jump before pulling you back up at his hold on your hips. “Be a good girl and go grab daddy another beer while I play this shot.” 

Your expression was best described as dumbfounded as you blankly nodded in shock. Stepping away you heard the sound of him striking another ball and it landing perfectly in the socket. 

Your breath was heavy thinking about the sinful interaction, your cheeks burning and underwear ruined at him referring to daddy but not meaning the one upstairs. 

You grabbed the beer from the spare fridge in the basement, hesitantly taking it back over to him. 

“Good girl, thank you doll face. So obedient aren’t you?” His voice was rough as you stood beside him watching him drink. 

“You ever drank before?” He set his stick on the green felt despite there being a few balls left. 

You shook your head daintily. 

“Have a sip baby, you might like it.” 

“I’m only 20, I’m not old enough yet.” 

He chuckled lowly under his breath. “It’ll be our little secret then won’t it?” 

He didn’t let you pull away as he forced the tip of the amber glass beer bottle against your lips. 

You cringed and you drank what he poured into your mouth, his grip on your chin keeping you in place. 

When he pulled it away and let you breathe you let out a coughing fit. “See? That wasn’t so bad. You like the taste baby?” 

You shook your head wiping the beer that had spilled from the corner of your lips on the back of your hand. 

“Aw, maybe next time I’ll bring one of those fruity drinks you young girls like for you to try.” 

“Okay,” you muttered nervously, sitting on the edge of the pool table expecting him to finish his game and leave so you could enjoy several rounds with your vibrator. 

Instead, he didn’t pick the stick back up and just moved between your legs, his callused hand spreading your knees apart. Even on the table, he was still taller than you. “God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. I bet you have boys lined up down the block.” 

“Not at all,” you giggled nervously. 

“No boyfriend?” He quizzed and you shook your head no. “Are you a virgin?” 

You waited for a moment before shaking your head no. “No, I lost my virginity to a guy I met on a hookup app like six months ago. I just wanted it out of the way.” 

He clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Damn shame.” He grunted. “Tell me about it. Tell me about your first time.” 

“Oh, um.” You twirled your fingers around each other nervously. “I met him on a hookup app and we talked for a few days and I went to his house and we had sex.” 

“Aw, I bet you were so horny you didn’t care who it was you just wanted to be dicked down. Did you suck his cock before he fucked you?” 

You nodded, trying to mask your heavy breathing. 

“Did he make this little pussy cum all over his dick?” 

You shook your head once more. “I didn’t cum, I think I was just too nervous but he tried.” 

“Then he didn’t try hard enough,” Frank grunted as if he wanted to hunt the frat boy down. “Did he lick that wet pussy? Did you make him wear a condom or were you so horny that he talked you into taking it off?”

“He didn’t eat me out,” you cleared your throat. “He wore a condom, but he didn’t try to argue with me about it.” 

“Good girl, you knew he wasn’t worthy of feeling you raw.” His hand caressed your smooth thigh. “What happened next? Did you date for a bit or see him again?” 

“No, he ghosted me.” You tucked your hair behind your ear with embarrassment. “Guess I wasn’t very good.” 

“He’s a fucking idiot, baby. Pretty girls like you just have to spread those pretty legs and be the tightest he’s felt. I will say I’m glad he’s not in the picture anymore. You’re such a good girl I know you’d have a hard time cheating on him, ain’t that right?” 

You just nodded absent-mindedly spreading your legs wider for him. “I haven’t been with anyone else since.”

He cooed once more, his face mere inches from you as his warm hands cupped your cheek. “That’s my good girl, it was like you were waiting for me before you knew I’d be coming.” He elongated the word coming. “You needed a big strong daddy, isn’t that right?” 

You whimpered and nodded with a heaving chest. Even your naughty romance novels never felt this intense. 

“Say it,” he demanded softly. “Say you need a big strong daddy to take care of you and that pretty little pussy.” 

“I-I need a big s-strong daddy to take care of me.” You stuttered. He nodded silently ordering you to complete it. “And take care of my l-little pussy.” You whispered the obscenities. 

“Good girl.” He growled. He hungrily took your lips with his, his feral actions grabbing you roughly around the waist with one arm scooting you closer to him. His tongue quickly found its way against your lips begging to be invited. 

Hesitantly you separated your lips for him you found the taste of his beer and cigar from earlier against his tongue. He invaded your mouth in the best sense of the word. The two of you breathing heavily against each other wrapped your arms behind his neck forcing him closer to your core. 

“Lay back,” he breathlessly pulled back, forcing your shoulder to lie down. You laid against the rough green felt of the table as he dragged your hips down over the edge, pulling your shorts and panties quickly off. 

He didn’t hesitate to get on his knees and wrap his muscled arms around your hips, forcing your thighs to stay propped up against his shoulders. 

An abrupt moan left your lips as his thick tongue devoured your pussy. His hot breath ricocheted against your skin and you snaked your hands through his thick brown hair as he dragged the tip of his large nose over your clit with his tongue circling your entrance. 

Your hands swung and gripped at the glossy mahogany frame of the pool table, your chipped red-painted nails scratching at the edge as he groaned against your pussy. “Fuck, baby. Taste so fucking good, you’re so tight, it’s gonna be a squeeze getting me inside you.” 

“Daddy, don’t stop.” You pouted, your hips bucking against his face. 

“Better be quiet there, princess. Would hate for your folks to hear that I have my tongue in their sweet little daughter’s pussy.” He didn’t pull away from your heat for very long, too starved to keep himself away for longer than needed. 

“Basement is soundproof…” You rode against his face again, your hand traveling down the back of his neck to dig your nails into his sun kissed skin. “My brother wanted to learn how to play drums and they soundproofed the basement for him.” 

You felt him grin between your legs before latching his lips around your clit. You cried out once more as he began to suck the sensitive nerve, his fingers searching between your lips to slide inside. You winced as his large fingers began to stretch your out. His bony knuckles and large callused fingers pumped in and out of you. 

“Gonna…Cum…” You whined, tears brimming your eye. your back arched dramatically off the billiard table as you came on his tongue. 

After you finished he stood from the table, his face shiny with your release and a shit-eating smirk on his cheeks as he wiped his lips on the back of his hand. “God damn you taste so fuckin’ sweet, gonna give me a damn cavity, aren’t you princess?”

“Uhh, I guess…” You mumbled nervously, blushing as Frank laughed at you. 

“You are just too much.” He clicked his tongue. His hands draped up your waist, pulling your shirt off with it, tossing it on the table before undressing himself. 

“Oh,” You gasped looking down at his throbbing size. He quickly spread your legs further apart before you could protest at the intimidation of him. “Wait-”

“No, no baby.” Frank cooed, dragging the tip of his cock through your lips, his tip brushing against your sensitive clit. “Now it’s your turn to make daddy feel good.” 

“Wait, no!” You pushed his shoulders, trying to get away, the weight of the situation of your dad’s best friend just eating you out on his pool table finally kicking in. He ignored your protest and pushed deep inside you. 

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight for daddy.” Frank’s head threw back as he moaned gruffly. He forced the hands you had shoving against his chest to wrap around his neck. “You’re gonna take my cock deep in that little pussy, and you’re gonna keep your fuckin’ mouth shut unless you’re telling me how good my dick feels.” 

“But-” 

Frank grabbed your jaw in a bruising hold, pausing his thrusting hips. “I don’t care even if this basement wasn’t soundproof. No one in the entire fuckin’ world can keep me away from your fucking cunt right now. So I will not hear any protests from you, you got that dumb baby?” 

You pouted, your cheeks inflamed with shame. “Yes, daddy. I’ll be good.”

He hummed with a grin on his lips before forcing his lips against yours. “Atta girl.” 

The stubble of his carved chin irritated your cheeks as his tongue forced its way into your mouth. The smooth underside of his tongue gliding over yours distracted you for a moment before he began to drive his cock back into you. 

The taste of you on his tongue was obscene enough to take your breath from your lungs. His dexterous fingers sightlessly found their way against your clit, strumming it like a smooth record. “This little pussy belongs to me now.” 

You breathlessly nodded as he thrust harder, already filling you completely. His cock throbbed against your cervix and it all felt too much. 

“Lay back down, sweetheart,” Frank demanded once more, pushing you to lay on your back again. “Wanna watch your tits bounce as I fuck that tight little cunt.” 

“Um, okay daddy,” You murmured nervously as if he didn’t already have you on your back for him. 

Frank pulled your hips closer to the edge again before thrusting back into you. A strangled moan played from the both of you as a bead of sweat dripped down your arched back. 

His rough hands dug into your hips, bruising the skin under his hold. He was dying to mark you, even if it was under your clothes so your parents couldn’t see but you both knew it was there, that he was always on you even whenever he wasn’t around. 

“Rub your clit for me,” Frank moaned, his eyes hypnotized at your breasts as you slid your hand between your legs, hungrily guiding your fingers over your heat, shamefully already being close prior it didn’t feel like till you’d burst again. “That little cunt of yours is gripping me so damn tight baby you’re gonna make me fill you with cum. What a greedy little slut, huh? You want daddy to fill you with his cum?”

“Please cum in me, daddy.” Your voice was a desperate cry as you danced along the edge of your orgasm at his foul tongue (more than once tonight). “Fuck, daddy I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for daddy, milk my cock every fuckin’ drop, I ain’t gonna let you waste a bit of it.” 

You wrapped your hand around his burly forearm riddled with tattoos, dragging your nails into his skin, creating pink lines in the trace. 

“Gonna cum in you, dumb little baby.” He grunted, his teeth grit together as if he was holding a secret back. His oversized hand grabbed the sweat-damp hairs at the back of your neck whipping you up against his chest. “Dumb sluts like you need a daddy to put you in place. My cum is your air.” 

A demonic grunt in your ear and Frank filled you, you could feel him spilling from you and spread all over your inner thigh. “You were such a good girl for me.” 

“Please don’t tell my daddy.”

He took a breathless chuckle. “I’m your daddy now, sweetheart.”

//////////

“Honey!” You heard your dad call from downstairs and you cringed avoiding the basement like a plague and just avoiding Frank at all costs. “Can you bring us another case of beers, we’re out down here?” 

You cursed under your breath before dragging your feet to fetch their order. Your feet felt like they were glued to cinderblocks as you forced yourself down the stairs. Frank’s eyes devoured you, taking you down with him, a blush forming on your cheeks. 

You stood from the stairs reaching it down to your dad, trying to get out of there as quickly as possible. 

“Hey, what’s that stain on your table?” Frank pointed with the tip of his cue stick to the stain on the green felt of the pool table where he devoured you last week. You both knew the source of that stain.

“What stain?” Your dad asked, turning around to look at his table. “Looks like a water stain, I wonder if there's another leak in the ceiling.” He sighed with annoyance. 

“Must be from a real squirter of a leak.” 

//////////

“Say it again.” he whispers against the shell of your ear. he had to hunch forward to do so, as you sat between his legs, but he takes a moment to run his fingers through your tresses, gathering them together and pulling them to the back of your head.

you nibble on your lip. “I am the prettiest girl in the world.” you repeat, and feel him peck your ear, pleased.

“Look at yourself in the mirror, and say it again.”

you’d been avoiding the mirror. maybe you didn’t want to see what Matt Murdock had turned you into, but he was no longer giving you a choice. once he’s cinched a ribbon around the ponytail, he’s reaching around to hold your chin, angling your countenance towards the mirror on the opposite wall. you could always close your eyes, but decided that was an unnecessary fight waiting to happen. he would know. somehow, Matt always knew. instead, you allow your gaze to fall over your frame. seated on your butt, you appear a glass doll left on the floor instead of carefully set back on her display. he’d swaddled you in a top that had to be two sizes too small, cropped above your navel and breasts together and up towards the dipping neckline. a silky skirt lay in shimmering ruffles around your thighs. you had the distinct feeling that, once you stood up, it wouldn’t cover very much at all. a skimpy pair of crotchless panties made of the same, soft silk would be on full display, and offer little protection if Matt wanted to bend you over at any given moment. your eyes fall lower. creamy thigh high stockings are bunched at your ankles, and your feet were stuck into the highest pairs of Mary Jane’s you’d ever seen.

“I’m the prettiest girl in the world.” you say again, now starting to believe it, eyes flickering back up to stare at his hand. in contrast, the calloused, rough extremity looks bizarre against your angelic face. his thumb resting dangerously close to your glossy lips that smell and taste of cherries.

“Yes you are. And you’re all mine.” he purrs, running his thumb along the corner of your mouth. then, he leaned back in the chair. “Stand up for me, Bun.” you do so carefully, gripping the little rabbit in the crook of your arm, placing your hands on his knees for balance as you get to your feet. the chunky heels made you feel like you were walking on stilts, and you wobble slightly, but Matt only chortles. “I won’t let you fall, sweetheart.” somehow, you knew that to be true. Matt spreads his legs, and pats the seat between them. “Right foot.”

the shoe is heavier than you thought, and your balance wavers. you never were particularly graceful, and maybe that’s why Matt chose a pair of heels he knew you wouldn’t be able to run away in. you lift it, uncertainly, but Matt catches your ankle as soon as it’s high enough and guides it to the chair betwixt his thighs. svelte digits slowly unfurl the bunching of ivory nylon, feeling around for the hem before pulling it up over your knee. he leans in as he does so, lips grazing the side of your calf, careening over your kneecap. “Good girl.” he praises, smoothing the silicone band over your thigh. his fingers linger there, dancing along the inside of your thigh. you can tell by his hesitation that he wants to give in and push his fingers into you, the warmth from your core tickling his digit tips. you’re surprised that he doesn’t; Matt hasn’t exactly been one to restrain his lust for you since the abduction, deciding instead, that he can have whatever he wants whenever he gets the hunger for it. today, he doesn’t. his jaw tightens, pads of his fingers caressing your silken skin, before they trace the shape of your leg all the way down again, and grasp your ankle to ease it off of the seat. “Left foot.”

the same treatment.

every soft kiss on your leg adds more flapping wings to the butterflies in your tummy, and you find your hands resting on his shoulder, gripping his shirt, nearly unwilling to let go. you didn’t want to. why didn’t you want to?

“There we go.” he hums, pleased, and his hands glide upwards. you expect them to delve under your skirt and go straight for your exposed cunt, but they don’t. instead, they shape the flare of your hips, find your waist, and grip there, pulling you down to sit on the space between his thighs. your butt comes in contact with the seat, your back resting against the warmth of his chest. he sighs, resting his chin on your shoulder, and you watch him in the mirror. his fingers hooking together around your belly like a safety belt, one to keep you from going anywhere at all. “All done. My precious, little plaything. Soft and obedient, just like you’re supposed to be. Do you like your new clothes? Daddy picked them out special for his favorite bunny.”

you stare at yourself, at the outfit you never would’ve picked. it was the complete opposite of anything you wore before you met Matt, and yet you’re surprisingly… happy with it. surprisingly content to look less like a human and more like a day dream. soft, but corrupted. you nod, hugging the rabbit close, and he plants an open mouthed kiss on your cheek. “Say ‘thank you daddy’.”

…

You were so eager to play the poor lamb part, Matt would give you a reason. 

It had been exciting, he wouldn’t lie.

How he waited to fulfill his warning. 

You took a break from cases, even placed a whole security system at your fancy apartment, and wouldn’t abandon it if it wasn’t strictly necessary. When you did you brought a gun and a pepper spray can in your purse as if that would help you save yourself if he decided to go after you. 

It made him laugh every time he followed you, whether at light or beneath the darkness. 

...

Matt frequently visited your rooftop, sometimes creating specific sounds just to hear your poor pounding heart and your trembling breath at the mere sound of a rock hitting the window beside your bed at night. 

It had become a game. To keep an eye on you, spy on your habits and routines, and the challenge of designing new ways of messing with your mind. You entertained him for weeks until he decided that the anticipation was enough, and when you felt safe enough to go out once again, he decided to act. 

…

How foolish, he thought when he sensed you taking the last lap of your daily exercise around the park at six pm, the sun already setting.

Matt followed you from behind in his black clothes, deciding he wanted to play a little and fuck with your head for the last time before facing you. 

He started breaking small branches, stepping on dried leaves while following you under the cover of the recent darkness, feeling your state of panic rising. Legs speeding up in fear, the heavy breathing of your gasps leaving a thin trace of haze before fading in the air of the fresh night. 

Matt decided to let you think it was just your hysteria creating a fake scenario in your head. He chuckled when you rested your back against a tree, calming your palpitations while taking deep breaths. 

“It’s not real, ” you murmured. “Not real.” 

After hearing those words he couldn’t help it. 

He laughed. 

Loud enough so you could hear him, so you could know he was there with you.

The effect was instant. He felt you shivering, blood abandoning your face, and heart hammering in your chest. Anxiety spread through your body. 

Enough with the foreplay. 

Matt decided he had been cruel enough and that the beginning of his warning was just starting. 

The park was long empty gone when he grabbed you after you started running away from him. Adrenaline ran through his veins as you put up a fight, trying to get the gun he knew you had on your small workout bag. 

Once you found it, he didn’t give you enough time to hold it, taking it away from you and crushing it against the nearest tree. 

He held your right arm from behind you, his gloved hand on your mouth like the last encounter. But this time you did something unexpected. 

You bit his hand. 

Hard. 

He shook it, receiving a hard nudge from your elbow in your attempt to set yourself free. It amused him, that you thought your little strength could help you against him.

As a small reward, Matt decided to give you advantage, even though it was mere false hope. The grasp around you lost its force and he stepped a little back, pretending you actually harmed him and let you run a little more.

When you were close to the end of the park he captured you again, this time holding you with his full strength, carrying you inside an empty building he noticed before.

He didn’t waste time, pinning you down against the hard cold ground, surrounded by dirt exactly where you belonged. Busy trying to contain your fists and kicks he wasn’t fast enough to register your head slamming his nose. 

He groaned. Blood ran down his nostrils as he finally managed to trap your wrists above your head with his left hand and shove his legs at both sides of your body. 

Your heart rated its peak by watching him mapping the fingers of his free hand on his nose and lips, soaking them with his blood and giving you a terrifying smirk. You turned your head to the right side and shut your eyes. 

“Poor little lamb, so naïve she thought I wouldn’t come for her as I promised,” he whispered, tracing his bloody and calloused digits on your skin, slowly drawing irregular patterns from your cheeks to your jawline, chin, and throat, brushing the necklace on top of your chest. “So scared, knows what’s coming, don’t you?”

His grip tensed at your lack of words, he grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, angling it up towards him so you would look directly to where his eyes were supposed to be behind the mask. 

“Look at me,” he commanded. You opened your eyes, driving your pupils down looking at his chest instead of his face. “At me.” 

Your eyes traveled up. His bloody lips gave you a sinister smile as he got close, both now sharing your heavy breathing. 

Matt could smell the sweat, adrenaline, dirt and his blood on you mixed with your usual scent and heightened emotions. The combination raised his blood pressure, overwhelming him in the same way one gets high, or even better. 

He inhaled the air in delight.

“You know, sweetheart, I considered you wise enough to listen to my warning.” 

“Warning?” You managed to say, your chest rising up and lowering down in swift motions. Yes, you were terrified, but you also knew there was no way to escape him, and you and your idiotic pride refused to stay silent. “You mean threat.” 

Matt scoffed. 

“As you wish to call it.”

“It-it was my job! I-I couldn’t…” 

“Yes, you could’ve,” he interrupted. “You just decided to sell your soul, exchange your life for your ego and greed by working for shitty scumbags.” 

Your breath stuck in your throat.

“I didn’t-” 

Before you could finish the sentence he grabbed your mouth. The copper taste of his bloody digits skimmed your lips. 

“Lies,” his fingers left your mouth to collect a strand of hair that crossed your face. He tangled and twisted it on his forefinger before putting it behind your ear almost gently. “Such a shame, so much talent wasted protecting criminals.”

Your erratic heart resonated in his ears, the sound of guilt. 

Of course you knew some of your clients' true nature, you weren’t an idiot. But life was expensive and those kinds of clients were always generous with their paychecks. 

Who could blame you? There were hundreds who worked just like you. 

“I’m- I’m just a lawyer, why aren’t you hunting down those said criminals instead of me?”

Matt leaned to your side, placing his head beside yours, the heavy pressure of his chest on yours let you feel the beating of his own heart. His legs kept restraining you as his breath caressed your ear, a slightly soft touch of his lips on your earlobe. 

“Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves,” he recited. “Matthew 7:15.”

His husky voice echoed in your ears, your mind rushing. 

The passage from the bible.

Matthew 7:15 

The image of his stubble and red prominent lips from seconds ago. 

The steadiness and conviction in his voice. 

His voice, you knew that voice. 

Matthew.

No, it couldn’t be. 

“What?” you let out in disbelief.

His head left the crook of your neck and his face was once again a few inches up from yours, your sight quickened to his features. Sickness set in the pit of your stomach and throat when the connection you tried so hard to deny emerged in front of you.

It couldn’t.

It just could not. 

Matthew Murdock was blind. 

Matthew Murdock was a lawyer. 

A lawyer who was also involved in your case. 

But he was blind. 

Wasn’t he?

It couldn’t. 

It wasn’t happening. 

It wasn’t him.

Matthew Murdock was nice.

You were losing your mind.

He felt the change in your breathing, the realization coming to you as you lightly shook your head still in denial. His fingertips started to map your cheeks in smooth circles, a grin appeared once again. 

He whispered your name before continue speaking.

“…always hiding behind the facade of a righteous lawyer, playing the innocent woman just so you can later show your claws,” he held other strands of your messy hair, stroking it and placing it on top of your left breast, barely brushing it before repeating the action to your other side. “I already do, and as you can see it’s not enough. If I need to eliminate the criminals in my city I have to remove the poison ivy from its root. People like you, you all contribute to the corruption of this city.”

You swallowed. 

“So this is your plan?” you worked to say finding the confident voice you had on you. “Eradicate all people who made mistakes. Well, I have some news to tell you: Hell’s Kitchen, New York, the whole world is full of shitty people.”

“Mistakes?” he bitterly laughed, his tone of voice once more changing from smooth and passive-aggressive to feral enraged. You didn’t know which one was more frightening. “You even have the nerve to call your actions a simple mistake when you ruined someone’s life work and credibility in society.”

Silence. You opened and closed your mouth. 

It was the truth. You knew it.

Matt pressed his lips in disappointment.

“I gave you a chance to make this right, if only you had listened you wouldn’t be here tonight.” 

His voice sounded tired, almost resigned as if he also didn’t want to be there.

Since the first time he caught you that night you knew you wouldn't get out. You were condemned the day you decided to appear in the courtroom of that trial.

Memories of that day passed through your mind, you tried to remember the ones involving Matthew Murdock. You remembered his tensed lips. You remembered his furrowed brows. You remembered his head pointing in your direction even if he couldn’t see you. You remembered his hand grazing your arm by accident when he passed by you long before you shared a trial. You remembered the first time you two met, the ghost of calloused fingers caressing every inch of you. The same ones that were dancing on your skin just now. 

A sour taste placed in your mouth, impotence, acceptance, fear, anger; all of it pounding in your heart. 

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction even if you knew he was partly right. 

“Then what are you waiting for? Are you done with your morality speech?” 

A combination of irritation and entertainment stroked him as he chuckled. 

Maybe you did have a death wish. 

“Trying to act fearless, huh? Doesn’t work with me, sweetheart,” he told you with mockery. Matt lowered his tone, this time sounding predatory. “I can smell it in you, your fear, your powerlessness. I kept wondering, you know. All these weeks. Given the time, would you beg me to forgive you? Beg me to spare you?”

His words awakened something inside you, the sourness taste spreading on your tongue. You took a deep breath before spitting up to his face, some of it falling down your mouth and cheeks. A smug look arose on your face.

“Did that answer your question?” you said. He grinned, not even bothering to clean your saliva off his face. His hand traveled to your throat and squeezed it, but you kept talking with struggle, the small smirk you held not leaving your face. “I notified people. If some-something happens to me if I do-don’t appear they will know the De-Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was behind my disappearance.”

Matt scoffed, a trace of bitterness and grudge underneath his voice.

“And the wolf shows the claws again. Poor little lamb, trying to pretend she’s in control,” he mocked, perceiving your lips still curled up, tiny traces of fog from your struggling breathing grazing his face and vanishing up his nostrils. “Then so be it.”

...

Matt passed his fingers through one of his papers, researching for one of the new clients. At his side Foggy let out a yawn, he could sense him covering his eyes, already tired. Karen bit the tip of her pen while writing some notes too much focused to feel Foggy’s fingers pinching her arm. 

“Karen, Karen,” Foggy said. Matt detected something else in his voice, his heart was now beating faster. “Unmute the TV.” 

“Holy shit.”

Matt felt Karen’s pen falling before the loud voice of the reporter came to his ears.

“…a promising lawyer of Hell’s Kitchen. Police are investigating the last spot she was seen before her disappearance and the possible connection to Mr. John Robertson, owner of Robertson Industries, murdered a few days ago, also one of her clients.” Matt perceived Foggy covering his mouth, Karen’s unsteady breathing while paying full attention. “…an anonymous tip reported The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen as the responsible due to a previous statement from the victim feeling stalked, although the police haven’t confirmed or denied this information.”

“God,” whispered Foggy in incredulity. 

“Was that…?” your name falling from his lips left an embittering taste in his mouth.

He already knew the answer.

“Yeah, last seen running at a park before vanishing,” replied Karen before swallowing. “I guess… I guess at the end assholes get what they deserve… one way or another.” 

“Okay, that was incredibly heartless,” said Foggy. “I know she was, is, I mean. She’s practically a demon who destroyed or case and probably not a good person, but, but Christ. We need to be careful. I hope she's still alive.”

Matt nodded quietly, rubbing the necklace inside his pocket. 

A sigh unconsciously slipped past your lips. It was foolish of you to ever think you were able to deflect his worry and anger. Despite knowing that he only wanted what was best for you, you still found it difficult to simply point fingers but that was a flaw he was able to fix.

Reluctantly, you recollected the events of the morning:

"Some guy was running from the cops and he pushed me to make way for himself. Honestly, it's nothing much. It doesn't even hurt anymore."

Anymore?

For a moment, Matt's mind was hazy, filled only with the storm of blood rushing inside his head. Someone dared to treat you as a literal push-over and all you were concerned about was the fact that it didn't hurt anymore. His skin began to burn, a tingle run through his fingers.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

A car was passing by the building, the light from its headlights crawled through the dirty windows and lit up your face for a moment. During those few seconds, when your face was bright enough to be seen in the darkness of the night, it seemed as if the whole world was asking you why you would lie to the man that loved you more than anyone ever could. The guilt further gnawed on your heart. Although he couldn't see it, Matt knew perfectly well that you were biting the inner part of your lip - the longish pause told him so.

"Matt, love, you have so much going on already, I wasn't about to add more to it," you spoke softly while running the back of your hand against his face.

It angered him to hear the affectionate nickname - how could he ever be eligible for your love if he wasn't the one suffering your pains? He must have been a truly awful human to greedily accept your heart without fulfilling his duty.

"You have to tell me when you're hurt." Somehow, he managed to partially swallow his growing disdain for the unnamed culprit to give you the tenderness you deserved. Yes, he couldn't let his own anger leave a mark on your ethereal grace. "I just want to take care of you." He gently kissed the coarse scab on the side of your hand, feeling the hateful bile rise to his mouth once again when his lips brushed against the wound.

Matt didn't sleep that night - the angels of vengeance didn't let him. Inside his head, between angered screams and insults, he was playing out various scenarios regarding the demise of the lowlife that dared to lay their hand on you.

He was going to start his day by paying a visit to the police station.

"I'm sorry!" the man cried out. His swollen eyelids could barely remain open. Along with his words, blood and saliva left his mouth. Sharp inhales elicited wheezes as cold air flew through his broken nose. "I don't know what I've done but I'm sorry! I'll be a better man! Please just... Just don't kill me."

"You don't know?" Matt repeated slowly as though he couldn't believe in the words he had just heard. The bile of disdain foamed at his mouth and for a moment it felt as if his humanity reluctantly looked away in fear or shame. "You hurt someone you don't deserve to even look at."

Staring at that bloody, hardly recognizable face, he found himself reminiscing about the Beatitudes as if Heaven's angels themselves reminded him of his holy duty:

"6 Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,     for they will be filled."

And who else could he be than the beacon of justice? To punish the wicked sinners that dared to taint your grace? He might be just a hand that bears the sword but angels, too, were primarily warriors.

"Do you believe in God?" he whispered to the trembling, barely conscious man. The criminal needed a few seconds to fully comprehend the sentence he had just heard, struggling to form coherent sentences in his current state.

"N-no, sir." The blood filling his mouth, and a few teeth too perhaps, made the short sentence slurred. It could well be due to the dislocated jaw.

"Then it's high time you do."

A panicked scream tore through the nighttime traffic of New York City. Appearing like Lucifer falling out of his home, the man flew helplessly towards the ground. With the sound of bones cracking upon contact with dirty concrete, Matt's heart eased slightly: maybe the mutt's wrongs hadn't been made right but he wasn't going to hurt you again. The man's pathetic whimpers were music to Matt's ears.

He was excellent at sneaking in and so you didn't stir awake when he slipped under the covers. Matt carefully wrapped his arm around you and pulled your body closer to his. Maybe if he held you tight enough, no malice of this rotten and undeserving world could ever reach you again. When he whispered those words in your ear, he was unsure who he was making the promise to - you, God or maybe himself?:

"I can keep you safe. I promise."

Everything was going as expected with his client until you appeared.

Of course he recognized you.

You, with your bright smile, confidence, and ambition; speaking on your client’s behalf. 

Smart.

Steady.

An inconvenience.

Matt whispered your name while dropping the earphones he was using, all the words of his research about you and your past cases flooding his brain.

His fingers ran across the open page of bible on the table, the memorized verse working as a remembrance. If there was anything he hated the most it was a wolf walking in lamb's skin, and right now you were the worst of all.

The moment your voice echoed in his ears that very first day he knew you were going to be a problem. A problem he would now have to deal with outside the courtroom before things would escalate the wrong way for him.

So he made his decision.

…

You were walking alone at night, a few blocks away from your apartment.

For someone so brilliant, you were also kind of stupid for risking yourself this way at the devil’s hour. Maybe it was all the confidence you held in yourself, he thought. The way you recklessly walked as if nothing bad could ever happen to you, like you were some kind of Hell's Kitchen’s royalty.

Untouchable.

This thought fueled a well-known feeling inside him.

He would show you.

…

That night the sky was starless, a few clouds surrounding the full luminous moon, the breeze of fresh air made you tremble. As if the night couldn’t feel more gloomy, you thought.

You were now just one block away from reaching home, thinking of rescheduling the date with your dentist for next week, when a strong pair of hands emerged from the shadows.

The surprise left you shocked at first until you reacted. You tried to scream, but a gloved hand shut your mouth while an arm held you from behind, carrying you inside the darkened alley.

You fought, you kicked, you tried to punch. Distress crawled inside your bones as you effortlessly kept trying to set yourself free, all cries dying at the rough fabric that scrapped your lips. Everything was pointless. The person holding you was strong, crushing your torso harder at your attempts to escape or even scream.

“Shhh,” his hot breath caressed your ear, the dark husky tone resonating in your head. “Stop trying to fight or I’ll give you a reason to lament it.”

To prove his point, he tightened his grip. You shook your eyes in pain as you nodded furiously, thinking of all the bruises he was leaving across your body.

“If you scream, you’re not getting out of here.”

A flash of your lifeless body abandoned in that dirty alley came to your mind. You repeated the nod, fighting the tears that were about to roll down your eyes as his grasp on you lost its strength but remained to hold you straight, preventing you from collapsing. His gloved hand abandoned your mouth and began tracing a slow pattern on your skin, starting from your lips, descending to your chin, and ending in your throat only to grab it lightly as a reminder of who was in charge.

You could feel your chest tighten as well as your erratic heart hammering in your ears. A superficial layer of sweat started to cover your body when involuntary violent scenarios began to rush through your head.

“Listen to me carefully, sweetheart,” his lips met your earlobe while massaging the soft and vulnerable skin of your throat, one fingertip caressing the aortic artery. A shiver ran down your spine at the juxtaposition between the sweet words meeting your ears along with his gentle touch and the obvious threat beneath the later actions. “You’re gonna drop the case you're working on, I'm sure you know which I'm talking about. Call your client tomorrow morning and say you can’t continue, do you understand?”

You nodded again, terror shaking through your bones.

“Ah-ah,” he chuckled. His hand squeezed your throat and his thumb faintly ran across your lower lip before descending again. “Use that pretty mouth of yours. Do you understand?”

“I- I,” your voice was hoarse. “I do, I understand.”

At the moment the words left your mouth he swapped your positions. You closed your eyes when your back hit the brick wall of the alley, a sudden burst of pain striking your shoulder blades and neck. Your breath started coming in shallow gasps as your eyelids gradually opened, giving you the chance to finally face your aggressor.

He was wearing black clothes, a mask covered the top of his face, only red lips and stubble left visible. You registered all of him in seconds feeling the fierce pounding of your heart as you realized who and how dangerous he was.

The man in the mask, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

His hand captured your chin as he got closer, lips just a few inches away for yours. When he opened his mouth to talk you could feel your desperate breath mixing with his threatening one.

“This is your first and only warning, do otherwise and you’ll regret it.”

That was the last thing he told you before disappearing into the shadows, leaving you alone.

You swallowed and pressed the palm of your hands against the wall, desperate to feel the contact of something solid against your skin before you could faint due to the high adrenaline in your system. Taking one breath followed by another, you hurried out of the alley, lifting the purse you didn't even notice had fallen and running away to your apartment.

Once the door shut closed you collapsed onto your knees. Your shaky hand covered your mouth trying to calm the sobs, salty tears now freely falling down your cheeks in the aftermath of the initial shock.