fear of god [Matt Murdock x F!Reader]

The wrath of ___.

She's wearing a black mask, it covers a portion of her forehead and ends above her cheekbones. When she examines herself closer, she can't help but make a face. You don't recognise her, this woman in the mirror standing in front of you. Pulling up the long black neck warmer, you cover the bottom half of your mouth with thin fabric. You can barely see your face. That's good. You suppose that's what he wants.

"God," you mumble to yourself, ensuring your voice is audible behind the covering, "he's going to think you're an idiot."

Pulling the mouth part down, you let out an exasperated sigh. You can still see the skin around your eyes. It looks stupid. Taking the mask from your face, you pull your black palette out. There's no grace to it, there doesn't need to be. You smear your fingers into the eyeshadow. The pigment stains the tips of your fingers immediately, and you shut your eyes. From the bottom of your eyebrows to where the bags under your eyes end, you coat your lids in black eyeshadow.

With the mask back on, and the fabric covering your mouth, you wouldn't be able to recognise yourself - not if it were dark, anyways. And the sun left a long, long time ago.

Staring into the mirror, you take a step back. You're in black like Daredevil ordered. With a heavy sigh, you grit your teeth, "Who are you trying to be?" The woman in the mirror doesn't move, just says, "I don't know."

And with that, you head to the fire escape outside your bedroom window.

It's only a floor or two to the roof, so you climb. Past your sleeping neighbour above, and carefully past the dim light in the apartment further up. It's cold so you've layered up nicely, two pairs of socks under your combat boots to shield your feet from the chill. You let out a quiet huff, making it to the roof.

"I'm surprised you listened to me." His voice startles you again but this time you play it off. Turning to the door, you see him leaning against it. "Stairs would've been easier."

"I didn't want to be seen," you tell him. The wind brushes past you, and Matt can smell your hair, the eyeshadow, and the leather you're wearing. He wishes he could see you. He wishes he could see the sky. He wishes he could analyse the way the lights of the surrounding buildings glint in your eyes.

"Are you wearing makeup?"

You stare at him, unsure of what to say, "Yes."

"Hm."

"Some of us don't have expertly made helmets to keep our identities hidden," you shoot back, defensively, "some of us have dollar store masks and black eyeshadow."

Matthew smiles, not because he's making fun of you but because he finds it endearing, how defensive you get. "Right."

"Can we get on with it?" You ask.

He bites the corner of his mouth, failing at hiding his laugh. He walks right past you, to the side of the building where the fire escapes descend in a line, "We can. Come on."

It seems to happen so quickly, the way he climbs down the first two metal structures. You stare down at him, the frown on your face visible through the darkness. "Jesus."

He looks up at you, waving his hand for you to follow. You turn, stepping down the first escape backwards and then heading for the little, loud steps. It takes 3 minutes longer than what he did. And you feel so embarrassed.

"What, were you bitten by a radioactive spider or something?" You stare at him, heading down the third escape and he watches you as he hangs off the edge of it easily.

"It's easier this way, come here,"

"I'm not trying to die, you do know that, right?"

"Well, are you trying to waste our time?" He shoots back at you, biting his tongue when he feels your glaring eyes on him.