His Little Miracle

Your head pops up from the kitchen as you hear Matt’s voice call out from the apartment entrance, accompanied by the door creaking open and thumping against the wall carelessly. You make sure to lower the heat on the stove before stepping away, shuffling off towards the living room. The last thing you needed today was a burnt dinner and hearing Matt complain about how the smell would linger for days. “Yeah?”

Matt appears from the hallway, arms full of boxes and shipping bags. He raised an eyebrow at you, peaking up from behind his glasses. “I take it these are for you?” He asked, his voice tinged with teasing and curiosity. You felt the heat rush to your face instantly and you nodded, reaching out to take them from him. He shook his head and shifted his body away from your reach. “Just tell me where you want them.”

“The bedroom should be fine,” you replied, waving in the direction of the open doorway. “It’s just some clothes.”

“Some?” Matt questioned with a taunting smile as he moved towards the bedroom. “Seems like more than ‘some’ to me.”

“Well you try fitting into your clothes while growing a baby!” You called after him, rolling your eyes. You shuffled back off to the kitchen, smelling the fragrant aroma of marinara sauce wafting up from the pot. “Dinner should be done in just two minutes!” 

You were just plating up the pasta when Matt snuck his hands around your waist from behind, his fingers pushing up the hem of one of his shirts you’d thrown on to rub at the curve of your stomach. A pair of his sweatpants sat low on your hips, barely held up by the drawstring, and bunched around your ankles. “How are my loves doing today?” He murmured in your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender spot on the side of your neck that made you melt. 

You hummed softly, tilting your head so that he had better access to the intimate parts of your neck. “Other than my slacks digging into my hips all day, it was pretty good,” you replied, one of your hands joining his on top of your belly. “Those clothes came in just on time.”

Matt’s warm breath fanned against your collarbone. “You’ll have to show me what they feel like.”

That earned him a smile, and you turned your head to press a kiss to his temple. “Fashion show later, Mr. Murdock. The mother of your child needs nourishment.” 

Matt chuckled, finally releasing you from his hold and scooping his plate up from the counter. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t until the dishes were cleaned up that you slipped off to the bedroom. You tore open packages and tried to decide what to show Matt first. It was mainly office attire, as a lot of your casual clothes still managed to fit your growing stomach and hips due to the fabric. A pile of denim caught your attention, and you smiled, remembering the pair of overalls you had added to your cart on a whim.  Then an idea came to mind, and you searched the pile for the silk maternity bra you remembered buying a few colors in. 

You came out wearing both, and found Matt lounging on the couch, his legs spread open haphazardly, his tie loosened around his neck. He had an audiobook playing softly from his phone, and the voice was telling him information about the 15th week of pregnancy, the current week you were on. His head perked up at your entrance, and he smiled as he stretched out his hands for you. “Come here, let me feel you.”

You giggled and stepped into his hold, allowing his hands to explore the denim at your legs. You guided his hands upward, towards the elastic on both hips. “They’re a little baggy now, but it’s made to grow with me and the baby.”

Matt nodded, his brow furrowing as they came to the front of the garment, over your belly that was shielded from him with more denim. “Are these… overalls?” He asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

“They looked comfy!” You protested, arms shrugging in exasperation. “If you don’t like them, I’ll send them back.”

“No! No, I love them sweetheart,” he insisted, pulling you closer by the elastic at your hips. He rested his chin on your stomach, his unfocused eyes staring up at you. “Although I’m a little confused as to why you don’t have a shirt on with them.”

“Because I wanted to show you this.” You took his hands again, guiding him up to the silk covering your breasts, underneath the denim flap at the front of the overalls. He let out a soft gasp, and you smiled. Success. “It’s a maternity bra. It’s got these little clasps up at the top for nursing. My other bras were getting a little tight, and this material is so soft...”

Matt hummed softly, a devilish smile forming as he ran his thumbs over the fabric, purposefully brushing over your nipples, which pulled a strangled gasp from you. He loved your newfound sensitivity. “What color?” 

You kept your hands clasped over his, firmly pressing them closer, into your clothed flesh. You could feel heat start to pool at your core. “This one’s black, but I got a few other colors.”

Matt’s fingers traveled further up, and he deftly undid the clasp at the top of the cup, allowing it to drop from your breast. His smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with barely bridled lust. “Oh, I’m going to have fun with this, sweetheart.”

-

A few weeks later, on a warm Saturday morning, you woke up to the sun shining brightly through the window, casting rays of light across your face. You groaned softly, throwing up an arm to cover your eyes, blocking out the light. 

You’d been up late taking care of Matt, who came home disheveled and bloody. A knife managed to get through a weak point in his suit, and sliced open the flesh near the back of his ribs. He would have never woken you if he could have stitched it himself, but he couldn’t reach properly, and any time he tried, the pain shot jolts down his spine. 

You turned your head to the side to admire Matt’s slack face beside you, still shrouded in sleep. He had fallen asleep long after you did, the pain in his side persistent and nagging, which kept him from slumber. With the light unable to bother him, he snoozed on, his fingers curled loosely on your hip. 

You were tempted to stay with him, try to join him  in sleep again, but there was a persevering fullness in your bladder that needed urgent attention. You tried to slip out of bed undetected, but Matt stirred a bit, his brow furrowing as the warmth of you left his side. You gently shushed him and pulled your pillow down, tucking it under his arm where you had been. The warmth and scent of you seemed to lull him back to sleep, and his face relaxed again. 

After your trip to the bathroom, you padded off to the kitchen. Your first stop was at the fridge, to mark off yesterday’s date on the calendar as complete. You smiled a bit when you saw today’s date as the last day of your 19th week of pregnancy. Foggy had drawn a little banana on the next day, after Matt had mentioned the baby would be the size of a banana during that week. You’re pretty sure Matt didn’t know that Foggy had done that, but it made you laugh regardless. Your stomach had really ballooned in the past week, now sticking out more prominently than it had in the past, round with the weight of the child within.

You set about making a bowl of sugary cereal, despite hearing Matt’s protests in the back of your head. This baby had made you into a sweet tooth, and while you knew you couldn’t overindulge, cereal was the one thing you craved almost daily. Matt complained constantly about the artificial smell of the flavoring, but it made you happy, so he tried not to be so obnoxious about it. After fixing your bowl, you headed to the couch and plopped down, setting down your breakfast momentarily to plug in your headphones to listen to the latest podcast you were binging. 

You were nearly done with your cereal when you felt it. A little pop, low in your belly, just to the right of your navel. You froze at first, unsure of what you were feeling, holding your breath to see if it would happen again. When it didn’t return, you finished up your cereal and stood up to put the bowl in the sink. It was in the kitchen when you felt it again, twice, in quick succession. Pop pop. Same place in your belly, the sensation like that of a popcorn kernel exploding within a bag in the microwave.

A smile bloomed on your face as you rested your hand against the skin of your belly. You had gone to bed in just a bralette and shorts, the weather outside finally starting to get warmer as summer began. It was then that you felt it again, a single little thump against your hand. 

You hurriedly rushed to the bedroom, plopping down on the bed a little ungracefully in your excitement. You leaned down, gently brushing a stay strand of hair from Matt’s forehead. “Matt! Matty, wake up,” you whispered, running your thumb across his cheekbone. 

Matt groaned softly, pressing his face further into the pillow you had left behind when you woke up, his features scrunched on his face. “Your breath smells like fruit loops,” he grumbled, not bothering to open his eyes. 

You rolled your eyes, running your hand down the length of his bare arm. He hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt last night after you finished his stitches. Your hand grasped his and you brought it up to the curve of your stomach. You tried to position it where you felt the movement earlier, and you were quiet as you waited. You hoped you haven’t woken him up for a fluke.

Matt’s eyebrows furrowed after a moment, and he opened his mouth to ask you what all of this was about, when he felt a gentle thump against his palm. His whole body froze as he opened his eyes, disbelief painted across his features. His eyes tried to find yours. “Is that-“ 

“Baby wanted to say good morning,” you whispered, a bright smile adorning your face. 

Matt let out a shaky breath, and suddenly pulled himself closer, making you squeal as he pressed his face against your belly. A hesitant smile tugged at his lips. “Good morning, little one,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep, and a hint of emotion lurking below the surface. “You’re getting so big in there. Sorry Mommy keeps feeding you that awful sugary nonsense.”

You scoffed and batted at his shoulder, making him chuckle. “Excuse you, but your baby is the one making me want that ‘sugary nonsense’, Matthew.”

Matt hummed, feeling his own heartbeat stutter in his chest when you called it his baby. Buried underneath the anxiety and worry, underneath the guilt of this pregnancy happening without a plan, there was a part of him that loved that he gave you a baby, made you swell with his child. He loved you more than his own life, and now everyone could see that in the way you radiated, glowed with your pregnancy. Even your scent had changed slightly, your pheromones driving him wild the past few weeks, like they adapted just for him. 

Your hand ran through Matt’s hair, fingernails scraping lightly against his scalp, causing him to moan low in his throat. His senses were still a little scattered, as they always were when he woke up, and the sensation felt extra sensitive. His face nuzzled further into your belly, his lips pressing fleeting kisses to your skin. He waited patiently for another little kick, but settled on listening to the little heartbeat in the meantime. 

“What about Jack?” You asked suddenly, the thought tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop it. 

Matt stilled, then angled his head up towards you. You could tell he was trying to keep his face blank, but there was a storm of emotions just behind his eyes. “What?”

You shrugged, and your mouth pulled into a soft frown, suddenly regretting ever opening your mouth. “We can’t keep calling it ‘little one’ forever. We should probably start thinking of names, and I just… I thought maybe you’d like Jack.”

Matt was quiet, the subtle emotions hidden in his features shifting as he tried to process your suggestion. He seemed to settle after a moment, turning his face towards your stomach again. “We don’t even know if it’s a boy yet,” he settled on instead, skirting carefully around your question. 

“The anatomy scan is in 4 days,” you reminded softly, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. He hummed noncommittally, not bothering to give you a proper response. You sighed. “Just think about it, Matt. And let me know if you have any other suggestions.”

You stayed like that for a while, in silence, your hands brushing over Matt’s face and hair, soothing him through his thoughts. He kept his hand pressed to your belly, his thumb rubbing over the soft skin repetitively. Finally, he spoke up. “What if… what if we don’t find out?” 

“Hm?” You hummed, looking down at him curiously. 

“What if we don’t find out if it’s a boy or a girl?” He clarified. “What if we let it be a surprise?” 

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking up in a smirk. “You hate surprises, Matt.” 

“No, I hate when people try to surprise me,” he retorted, giving you a small smile. “Because I can always tell. I know when they’re lying, I can hear them talk about it when they think I’m out of range. Then I always have to pretend to be surprised, and it’s not fun.” 

It makes sense, you realized, and you had to wonder why you never thought about that before. He’d gone most of his life having to pretend to be surprised by people who don’t know of his senses. You knew that Foggy had even tried a few times to sneak a surprise past him since finding out about Matt’s abilities, only to be thwarted every time. Foggy was a bad liar to someone who didn’t have super senses.

“This is the one time you could be genuinely surprised by something,” you breathed in understanding. 

Matt nodded, pressing his cheek to your belly as he faced up at you. He looked, dare you say, hopeful? “As long as the doctor doesn’t immediately go gossiping to the nurses, then this could be the only surprise I get for the rest of my lifetime.”

You smiled, genuinely. “I’ll make her swear to secrecy. If this is what you really want, Matt, I’ll give it to you.”

Matt pursed his lips, reaching up to stroke his fingers against your cheek. “I don’t deserve you,” he breathed, his heart not faltering as he believed it was true.  

“Nonsense. But I’d still like to come up with a name besides ‘little one’,” you reminded, leaning into his hand, the warmth of it inviting. 

“You know, Foggy is still voting for Franklin as a top choice…”

“Absolutely not.”

-

“What about Michael?” You mentioned offhandedly as you poured his coffee Sunday morning.

“My middle name? No.”

“Matthew Junior?”

“You have to be joking.”

“It’s better than Franklin.”

“You want to know Foggy’s second choice?”

“What?”

“His middle name. Percy.”

“… Maybe Franklin isn’t so bad.”