Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Matt Murdock, aka Daredevil, lay bleeding on Wilson Fisk’s floor.

Security was confused on how to handle the situation. They had tried to stop Murdock from accessing Fisk in his penthouse office, but barely stood a chance. Nothing stood in Murdock’s way when he was determined. He had then pushed the doors open and promptly collapsed in a heap.

Murdock struggled to get himself up on his hands and knees as Fisk stood over him.

Fisk offered a hand and Murdock paused, before shoving it away, collapsing again. “You’re losing blood,” Fisk stated. “Let me help you. I can make it all better and you can be on your way back to Hell’s Kitchen.”

Murdock hesitated, thinking it over for a long moment. He wheezed softly as he breathed. A punctured lung?

Murdock gripped Fisk’s hand tight and groaned as he was pulled to his feet.

“Let’s get something to put pressure on your wound, then I’ll have a doctor look you over,” Fisk told him.

Murdock opened his mouth to protest, when Fisk cut him off. “They will not know who you are, I will not tell them. Your mask will remain on. And if they can heal you better than you were before you were stabbed, I consider that a fantastic job.”

Murdock only nodded in agreement, hand on his side.

Fisk barked out orders and led Murdock out of his office.

Chapter Text

Fisk hummed, watching his men trying to keep hold of a struggling Matt Murdock.

Despite the fact that Matt was his prisoner wearing cuffs and a collar in nothing but his pants, his escape attempt made it clear that he did not want to be owned.

Fisk pushed back from his desk and walked over to Matt, who was panting from his fight up to Fisk’s office.

Matt tracked Fisk with his head, before adjusting to tilt up towards his face.

“How do you want me to punish you?” Fisk asked, staring into Matt’s dark eyes. He wondered if it was the lawyer or the devil that would answer, which one would try to weasel out of this.

“Just kill me,” was the snarled answer.

“No,” Fisk told him. “I won’t give you that pleasure,” he said with a smile. “Now, decide. Do you want to be punished like a misbehaving brat, or something more…adult?” He couldn’t help but rub at his cock for emphasis, watching Matt’s face for a reaction.

Matt turned away, aware of the movement, of the implication.

Fisk could see a fierce flush blossoming over Matt’s chest and the tips of his ears, staining his cheeks. Fisk smiled wickedly and once again wondered who would pick, what would be the lesser of two evils to this man that thought he could deal out justice with his fists?

“Like–like a child,” Matt responded, half turned towards Fisk.

Fisk nodded and glanced at his men. “Hold him down,” he told them and rolled up his sleeves.

Matt protested, struggling as he was bent over the arm of Fisk’s office chair.

Fisk moved to stand next to Matt, eyeing up the man’s fit body for a moment before slapping his ass.

Matt yelped in surprise, jerking.

Fisk spanked him again and again as Matt gripped the chair in confusion.

Fisk rubbed at the tender flesh of Matt’s ass, a mocking balm before he opened Matt’s pants and pulled them down his thighs.

“Wait!” Matt’s shout died in the leather of the chair.

“You chose the punishment, I will not be straying from it if that is your concern,” Fisk told him and spanked him without pause for the next several moments, alternating hands to turn Matt’s ass a bright pink.

Fisk landed a few harder blows, making Matt yelp again, before stepping back and waved him away. “Put him back in his cell. I’m sure he’ll think about this for a while before he attempts to escape again.”

Matt was hauled up on his feet, but he looked smaller, trying to hide from the shame that was written all over his face.

Fisk smiled again. Maybe next time Matt would try harder and then Fisk would have no reason to hold back. He couldn’t wait to see what Matt did next.

Chapter Text

Matt sighed as he laid on his bed, kissing Frank tenderly as his legs were maneuvered up to expose his entrance.

Matt pulled out of the kiss, reaching for Frank’s arm. “Aren’t we going a little fast?” he asked, breathless, fingers curling around Frank’s bicep.

“Why? You’re already naked,” Frank grunted. “And don’t you want me?”

“Yes. Of course I do,” Matt answered and then gasped as he clutched at Frank as his fingers pushed in, slick with lube.

Matt ground his teeth at the burning stretch, swallowing hard. “Frank, wait,” he muttered. “You’re going too fast.”

Frank didn’t listen, didn’t stop. He pulled his fingers out and thrust into Matt.

Matt gave a choked grunt, pushing at Frank’s broad chest. “Stop, s–stop. It hurts. Frank, please.”

Frank continued to ignore him, grunting and panting as he thrust in and out of Matt’s tender hole.

Matt could only cling, biting back a whimper, face wet with sweat…or was it tears?

Matt turned his head away, feeling a deep tug at his mind, like his soul was being called to come back to himself. Was he dreaming?

Yes, he realized as Frank faded away, it was all a dream. A nightmare about someone he cared for.

As he worked his way into consciousness, the pressing of a body against his didn’t go away. But he was alone in his apartment. What was–?

“Look who’s awake,” a voice greeted Matt back to his body, punctuated by a jarring thrust.

Matt gasped and grunted, trying to move as unseeing eyes flicked around with his radar trying to focus on what was going on at the same time. Focus on who was in him, violating–

Matt twisted and turned over onto his face. His radar filled in the massive outline of Wilson Fisk reaching for the devil’s hips.

Matt whirled around, swinging out, only for his wrists to be caught and pinned over his head.

“Don’t fight me now Matthew,” Fisk said, rocking against Matt’s hole, trying to push back in. “You were so eager to let me in when you thought I was Frank Castle.”

Matt flushed hard in shame and embarrassment. Words stuck in his throat. What could he say to that? Fisk used him, used his only time to let his guard down.

Matt choked on bile as Fisk’s cock breached his sore body again.

Matt tried to fight, to kick out, but his body didn’t seem to want to respond. Just twitched and reacted like he was swimming in molasses. “Y–you drugged me,” he said, throat tight from tears.

“I did,” Fisk admitted and Matt shut his eyes, trying to keep the tears in. Fisk didn’t deserve to see him upset, to see him like this.

Fisk cradled his face and Matt’s eyes snapped back open. “Don’t hide from me now, you were already crying when I first fucked you.”

That shocked Matt into a state of nothingness. He was just a warm body, full of filth, worth…what good was he when he couldn’t protect himself anymore? To be so easily taken. He wasn’t a soldier, he wasn’t a warrior. He was just flesh.

He barely registered when Fisk came and pulled out, heading into the bathroom to clean himself up.

Matt felt the sticky semen on his stomach and between his thighs, leaking out of his abused hole.

He rolled to get out of bed and fell on the floor. He felt as cold and as empty as his apartment probably looked. He shut his eyes and hoped the darkness behind his eyes would swallow his body whole.

Chapter Text

Matt stood in an alleyway, descending deeper as he heard faint whispers all around him, beckoning him. His red suit was covered completely in shadow, vanishing into the dark as he walked.

“So you tracked me down,” a soft British voice said from Matt’s left and then right as a tall man with wild hair appeared. There was no other way to describe it. He was just there. “Not many people can say they’ve had that privilege. You are quite persistent though, aren’t you? That’s what I like about you Matt.”

“You smell of sulfur and burning hair,” Matt told him. “Voices follow you. Your voice is bitter like ice.”

The man smiled, amused. “Keep talking, I like this.” He gestured for more. “The devil of Hell’s Kitchen describing my best features is a real turn on.”

Matt said nothing and the man sighed.

“You didn’t hold up your end of the deal,” Matt said just as the man’s mirth died away when it was obvious Matt was there for something.

“No, no darling.” The man pointed at Matt. “You said you wanted your best friend back. I did that. He’s back among the billions of you humans just like you wanted.”

“He’s not here,” Matt hissed, hands clenching, itching to grab his billy club.

The man grinned, sharp pointy teeth with a flash of red eyes that Matt couldn’t see. His voice deepened for a moment as he laughed. “Did you honestly think he would want to come back to this city, to you? You’re the one that got him killed in the first place.”

Matt snarled and punched the man in the face.

The man was briefly shocked, laughter cut off as he blinked.

Matt went to punch again when the man blocked his blow, and the next one, before grabbing Matt by the throat and throwing him into the alley wall. The brick cracked under the impact and Matt groaned, pulling himself away, debris trailing after him.

“You won’t win this fight little imposter,” the man growled. “You aren’t the first and certainly won’t be the last to try before falling at my feet.” He stalked closer as Matt went to strike him as the shadows followed, bleeding from the alley into him.

Matt’s breath ghosted in the air as the man’s hand struck like a snake and wrapped around his throat.

“Or do you forget? I own you.” He shoved Matt to his knees as the fingers left his throat, but the burning feel of a twisted collar lingered like the shadows licking at his face.

“Now, are you going to behave? Or will I have to terminate our deal?”

Matt tugged at the collar, at nothing, gloves clawing at air. The man’s voice had changed back to normal. Or was this deeper version normal instead?

Matt couldn’t think clearly, his senses were telling him the things he was perceiving couldn’t be right, couldn’t be real. The man had no heart beat, he wasn’t human, he wasn’t alive.

“I have such high hopes for you Matty.” The man stepped back, looking out of the alley. “I know you could be a right thorn to this entire city.” He turned back around to Matt.

“I’m sure I can forgive this little tantrum,” he said after a moment as he knelt next to Matt. “Keep doing what you’re doing, go after the mayor and his little assassin and in the end I’m sure you’ll know what to do.” He pressed a hand to Matt’s chest and kissed him.

Darkness covered them and in the next second Matt could breathe normally and the man was gone.

He got onto his feet and turned to leave the alley, suit a burned black.

Chapter Text

Frank watched as Matt tried once again to make an attempt at picking the lock on his cage door.

“Why don’t you give it a rest, Red?” Frank grumbled. He was tired, he was sore from the beating he took from the men that put the two of them in this abandoned zoo.

“Do you want to stay here Frank?” Matt grunted, pressing his weight against his slender makeshift lockpick.

“They didn’t kill us,” Frank said with a shrug. “Which means they want something. I say we wait it out and see what they want.”

“I’m not doing that,” Matt answered, “Not when they could be hurting others…” He trailed off as he jiggled the lockpick and it stuck. He gave a harsh turn and the door opened with a screech.

Matt ground his teeth and hopped out, listening for any of the mobsters. His radar picked them up further down the overgrown path, out of range enough to notice what was going on.

Frank moved to his door as Matt got closer, to use his lockpick when there was a shout.

“Shit,” Frank cursed as he spotted the one lookout who had wandered over.

Matt tossed his lockpick at the man at the same time as he drew his gun.

The man stumbled back from the impact of metal to his face and by then Matt was on top of him, knocking him unconscious.

Matt dragged the man into the nearby brush and picked his pockets for the keys and his gun.

Matt unlocked Frank’s cage and as he emerged, he reached for the gun Matt was holding.

Matt whirled around, aiming the gun as the man who had captured them walked up with sarcastic clapping.

He was dressed in a white suit with a purple mask and sunglasses, a rose pinned to the breast pocket. “Well done,” he said. “I had wondered how long it would take before you broke out.”

Frank reached for the gun again and Matt jerked away, keeping it leveled at the man calling himself the Rose.

Even through the mask, his gaze dropped to the gun in Matt’s hand. “Do you even know how to use that? Isn’t it more of his specialty?” He gestured at Frank as more men came up to help their boss.

Matt clicked the hammer back and stepped closer to the Rose.

“Where are the others?” Matt asked, voice low.

“What others?” The Rose was amused, until Matt grabbed him and trapped him to his chest, gun to his head.

“You lured me here, you lured the Punisher here by broadcasting you had Karen Page and Foggy Nelson captive. My friends Black Widow and Spider-Man weren’t far behind,” Matt hissed in his ear.

“Red,” Frank said, trying to pull Matt away.

“Where are they?” Matt repeated as the Rose’s men hesitated in approaching.

"I think your friends aren’t here,” the Rose answered. “They have much better things to do.”

Matt frowned in confusion and shoved the Rose into his men.

“Did you really think they were going to come looking for you?” He laughed and brushed himself off.

Matt scowled and fired the gun, clipping the Rose in the shoulder. He fell back with a cry and his men swarmed Matt and Frank.

Matt tossed Frank the gun and pulled out his billy club. He had to get to lower Manhattan. Natasha and Peter had probably found Karen and Foggy, and whatever stunt the Rose was attempting to pull. They needed backup.

Matt pulled himself up onto a light pole and swung off.

Chapter Text

“Sir,” Francis called, helping Wesley limp into the warehouse.

Fisk turned away from his blueprints and caught a flash of red on Wesley’s face. Instantly he was filled with white hot rage and stalked over.

Francis stepped back as Fisk cradled Wesley, looking him over.

“I’m fine sir,” Wesley said, trying to push Fisk’s hands away.

“You aren’t,” Fisk told him. “You’re bleeding, you’re bruised. Who did this to you?”

Wesley had a split lip, his glasses were missing, a large bruise was blooming ugly on his forehead. That was just on his face.

Worry rose through Fisk to override the anger and he checked Wesley’s hands for defensive wounds, trying not to think of what else there could be that he couldn’t see right now.

“Sir,” Wesley sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“Nonsense,” Fisk rumbled, about to drop Wesley’s arms when he spotted redness on his wrist.

Fisk pushed the sleeves of Wesley’s shirt back to see matching rope burns on his wrists.

Anger burned through Fisk’s body again as he growled, “Who did this to you? Who?”

“I did,” Nobu answered, walking into the warehouse.

Fisk snarled, gently pushing Wesley behind his body. “You…assaulted my employee, my trusted confidant.”

“He is your lap dog,” Nobu said with condescension. “And he insulted me too many times. I wanted to make sure he learned that lesson. It could have been much worse and much more painful.”

Fisk took a breath, hands trembling, as he muttered, “I’m going to kill you.”

“You cannot kill what is already dead,” Nobu said as Fisk advanced on him with a yell.

Nobu was quick and countered Fisk’s blows, harming the Kingpin easily. That only enraged Fisk more.

As blood trickled down his face, he grabbed Nobu, wrapping hands around his throat.

Nobu kept fighting, kept struggling, but it didn’t matter. Fisk snapped his neck, chest heaving with adrenaline and effort.

Wesley stepped forward, staring down at the body. “Thank you sir, I appreciate your dedication to my well being.”

Fisk half turned to Wesley, dark desire on his face, pulling him in for a kiss of blood. “You’re mine,” he muttered before stepping back. “Let Nobu’s people collect him. We proceed in a new direction.” He walked out of the warehouse as Wesley and Francis slowly followed.

Chapter Text

Matt woke up in chains.

His head ached and he tried to focus on how he was bound before anything else. Chains were wrapped around his wrists and through a metal headboard.

He hated that he could count how many times he had woken chained up, but he woke faster as he realized he was bound to a bed, naked.

He tried to sit up, arm muscles straining in the process as he yanked on the chains. He arched against the bed, kicking to get leverage.

Someone chuckled nearby. “My, aren’t you feisty? I can see why Frankie likes you.”

Matt stopped and turned towards the voice. A man sat near the bed and leaned forward. He had soft dark hair and scars twisting his face, wearing a large hoodie that nearly drowned his body in it.

“What?” Matt asked, voice scratchy.

“Matt Murdock, lawyer by day, Daredevil by night,” the man said with what might have been a grin. It was hard to tell from the duress his face was under.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Matt mumbled.

The man tilted his head slightly, eyes squinting. “Don’t you? You represented Frank in court, you know what he’s like. And after he was let out, he came to Daredevil’s aid. Why? What did Daredevil do for him? Unless he knew who it was under the mask?” He sat back and Matt swallowed, trying to think of something to say.

“I didn't really talk to him much.”

“Uh huh,” was the response. “I watched the trial. I wanted to see why Frank picked you. It wasn't for the sensationalism, that was never his style. And then I realized, it's because you fit his type.”

Matt played dumb and arched an eyebrow. “I didn't know he liked men.”

There was a long pause and Matt could almost taste the anger rising in the man. “He never said, was a good soldier that way,” the maimed man spat. “But you fit his type, because I was his type. And then–”

“He got married,” Matt muttered.

The man lunged forward, sprawling over Matt. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I had nothing to do with Maria. They were happy together and I was glad to still be by Frank's side. I loved him.”

Matt told him, “I never–I never said that you did.” He kneed the man in the side.

There was a brief scuffle and Matt managed to sit up before he was tugged back down and the man had his hands wrapped around Matt’s throat.

“You don’t deserve Frank,” he snarled. “You don’t understand him like I do. He’s my everything, my brother, my–”

Matt headbutted him and when he was dazed, kicked him hard enough to toss him off the bed.

Matt turned to tug at the chains where they were locked to the headboard.

Billy rolled over and pounced on Matt, knife in hand.

Matt dodged out of the way as Billy stabbed the headboard, looping the chains around his neck.

Billy swung out with the knife, missing Matt until he was backed against the headboard.

Billy growled and elbowed Matt before stabbing him in the arm and slid out of the chains, turning to shove Matt down and his cock pressed against Matt’s unprepared hole.

Matt’s head spun as he was laid flat on his back, arm screaming from the wound and then he realized what Billy was doing.

He went to protest when he cried out, muffling himself by biting the sheets as he was breached.

He breathed in the staleness of sweat and then grunted as Billy started thrusting quickly, hands on his hips to maneuver his legs up.

Billy panted through swollen lips, one eye twitching and blinking rapidly, seeing too much as the other fought to stay open.

He laughed as Matt whimpered, fingers curled in the chains that held him, chest blooming with a light blush.

Billy leaned forward to press on Matt’s wound, making him scream.

Billy moaned and wiggled his hips. “That’s it, clench. I want Frank to see you as nothing more than a bloody mess.” He leaned to whisper in Matt’s ear. “This is how I break him, this is how I make him suffer.”

Matt felt his stomach roll as Billy jabbed at his bleeding arm and he passed out, just aware enough that he would wake up to this later. He prayed that Frank would find him first.

When he woke up, Billy was gone, the chains were unlocked, and there was cooling semen leaking out of his ass.

Matt groaned as he lowered his arms and slapped a hand over his wound, stumbling off the bed to a bathroom to tend to it.

That’s where Frank found him, having passed out again from blood loss.

Frank tended to Matt’s wound and draped his coat over him, carrying him out silently.

Chapter Text

Matt landed on his back with a cut off grunt and shoved to get up when Fisk was over him, slamming him back to the floor.

Matt grabbed at him, kicked and twisted, but the Kingpin held on and took the blows.

Matt headbutted him and Fisk snarled, blood oozing from his nose and lip.

Matt brought his hands up to disorient Fisk, except they were gathered and pinned over his head.

Matt snapped his teeth, bucking under the hold, annoyed at how easy he was held down, feet scrambling at the smooth floor.

Fisk chuckled, his blood dripped down his chin. He reached for the black mask over Matt’s face and Matt froze, panic racing through his bloodstream.

He turned his head away, ready to sink teeth into skin to protect his identity. His chest rose and fell quickly from the exertion and Fisk glanced down at their bodies.

Matt licked his lips. “W–what–?” he got out before Fisk rubbed Matt’s cock with his knee.

Matt arched, trying to pull away as Fisk laughed darkly.

“What do we have here?” He rubbed again, as Matt bit his lip to not make any noise. “The devil is enjoying himself,” Fisk muttered, leaning closer, pressing further against Matt.

“Stop,” Matt muttered, sounding hollow even to his ears.

Fisk arched an eyebrow and moved his leg, pulling back to give Matt space to think, to move, to breathe. “Admitting you have lust–desires–is not something to be ashamed of,” Fisk said and Matt barked out a laugh, head rolling back as he wiggled, quickly shifting to anger as he yanked in Fisk’s hold.

“It is when you’ve sworn to kill me and destroy my life,” Matt bit out.

“An unfortunate set of circumstances to be sure,” Fisk said nonchalantly. “But in this instant, we are just two men, drawn together by anger and passion. You would deny yourself even that?”

“Yes, when it’s you,” Matt answered quickly.

Fisk sighed deeply. “I am asking you nicely, I don’t want to force this, but…”

Matt snarled. “You wouldn’t. What would Vanessa think if she knew?”

Fisk’s grip tightened on Matt, he hissed in pain.

“You would tell her? You would ruin my relationship for what?!” Fisk let go of Matt’s wrists to wrap his thick fingers around Matt’s neck instead.

Matt bucked and pried at the digits, striking out at Fisk’s shin as he choked.

Fisk growled, only squeezing harder.

Matt’s mouth opened, he struggled for air as he could feel unconsciousness calling to him.

Then he was brought back, breathing deeply with lips pressed to his own. Matt’s mind screeched to a halt as he could breathe and start to focus again. He didn’t respond to the kiss, or mouth to mouth, but his radar was telling him something else.

Fisk had both their cocks in his hand, stroking as his free hand twisted one of Matt’s nipples.

Matt ground his teeth, pushing at Fisk, only to be ignored.

“You enjoy pain,” he said, amused. “And I enjoy giving it. Let us have this moment.” He ran his thumb over the slit of Matt’s weeping cock head, making him moan, trembling under this man’s touch.

Fisk smiled and muttered, “Let’s pull another one from you.”

“What?” Matt asked, breathless, mouth dry.

Fisk chuckled and stroked faster, slick sounds the only thing outside of Matt’s little moans as his hips rocked up to meet Fisk’s hand.

Fisk bit Matt’s nipple and he came hard with a shout, splattering over his stomach and Fisk’s.

Fisk grunted, bracing himself on one hand as he jerked, coming on Matt with a low groan.

Matt lay there for a moment, trying to reorient himself amidst the ache at his throat and the sound of two hearts beating in time with each other.

“This will be our secret,” Fisk said, using his handkerchief to clean his hands and draping it on Matt’s hip before he stood and walked away.

Matt clutched the handkerchief and hated how the thought that he did like it sounded reasonable to him. He attempted to clean his stomach and tucked everything back into place, getting on unstable feet.

Fisk’s handkerchief was securely wadded into his pocket as he wandered off.