#foggy nelson fanfiction

[flinttcanwriteipromise]

Everytime I search up Foggy Nelson to find a fanfiction, Matt floods my entire screen. I wish I could be Daredevil, so I couldn’t see this.

(Long story short: STOP TAGGING YOUR MATT MURDOCK X READER FANFICTIONS AS FOGGY X READERS, I HATE IT SO MUCH I’M GOING TO IMPODE.)

[courtforshort15]

Green is the Color

Pairing: Matt Murdock x FemReader

Word Count: 7,200

Summary: Karen Page looks flawless next to Matt in a way that you don’t. Insecurities and jealousies were bound to pop up at some point.

Trigger warnings: None. Just some angst with a happy ending.

Masterlist

You're jealous of Karen.

Beautiful, smart, sweet Karen who has never been anything but kind to you. Leggy, slender, blonde Karen who catches eyes effortlessly wherever she goes. Determined, self-sacrificing, truth-seeking Karen who seems genuinely interested in what you have to say, who seems honestly happy to see you whenever you join them out as a group.

And though you're the one who sleeps in Matt's bed more often than not, though you're the one he whispers soft, sweet things to while he holds your hand as you walk home, though you're the one he calls when he's hurt or happy or needing you with him, you can't help but be jealous of her.

They look flawless together. She's light where he is dark. She is petite in everything but height, and he is made of muscle and broad shoulders. She is sweet and open where he is charming and dangerous when you truly look at him. 

They are beautiful, standing together laughing loudly, and you are not the only one who notices.

"God, some people have all the luck, don't they?" A woman next to you at the bar says to her friend. It’s your turn to buy the drinks for the group, and you're waiting patiently as Josie helps another patron. The conversation catches your ear, and you're not exactly surprised when you notice they're talking about Matt and Karen. It's not the first time you've heard something of this sort.

"They'd have such beautiful babies," the other woman replies, and the sound of her voice and the words being said pierces into your skin. "They look so good together it almost hurts. I hate them."

The women gather their drinks with shared laughter and walk away, leaving you to yourself while you wait on Josie. Your cheeks burn in something akin to shame and sadness, the realization that you'll never look as good next to him as Karen does. And though Matt has told you time and time again how much he loves you, it's not the first shred of doubt you've felt. 

Hearing someone else echo the things that have lived inside your heart for so long drives a sharp blade into your chest, and you struggle as you work to maintain your breathing, knowing Matt will pick up on the irregularity. You're in a crowded bar and Matt is a few drinks in, so you think you're safe at your current distance away, but the second you join the group, he'll be able to tell that something is off if you don't force yourself to calm down.

With a fake grin that pulls sharply at the corners of your suddenly dry mouth, you thank Josie when she sets your drinks in front of you, and you slowly make your way back over to them where they're playing a game of pool. You set the drinks on the table next to them, and Foggy immediately dives into the beer you've brought over. 

Karen thanks you for her drink with a smile, and Matt squeezes your hand in appreciation before he plays the part of an ordinary blind man and pretends to be awful at the game. It's all in good fun for him, though you all know he could whip everyone's ass, and he gasps in fake shock whenever he sinks a ball intentionally that he pretends is unintentional for the benefit of whatever bystander may be nearby. 

Matt says something that makes Karen laugh, and she places a hand on his shoulder as he smiles. Matt is your boyfriend, the man you'd gladly spend the rest of your life with, but you suddenly feel like an intruder in your own relationship. 

With a grimace you hope no one notices, you toss your drink back, setting the glass loudly back on to the table. 

"I think I'm going to call it a night," you tell the group, already turning to grab your purse. Immediately they all protest, asking you to stay for another game, or at least another round of drinks. You try to make the smile on your face look as warm and friendly as it always is, but you know you fail on some level. But in everyone's inebriated state, they all take it as completely genuine. 

"Alright, sweetheart," Matt says easily, placing his cue stick in the rack, turning to grab his suit jacket from where it's been tossed over one of the chairs. "We can leave. Are you staying with me tonight? Or do you want me to come over to your place?"

"No, it's totally fine," you object instantly, already taking a few steps away in an effort to distance yourself. "You should stay and have fun."

He waves your protest away with a smile. "We’ve been here for a while already. We can head out.”

You let out a laugh that surprisingly doesn’t sound nearly as fake as it feels. “You guys won a big case today. You deserve to stay out and celebrate.”

“She’s right, Matt!” Foggy calls out from the other side of the table before he takes a long sip of his beer. “We deserve all the alcohol that Josie can provide us with tonight. That case was a nightmare.”

Your laugh is a little more genuine this time, eyeing the way Foggy sways when he puts his beer down. Karen isn’t faring much better, if the flush on her cheeks is anything to go by. “Stay, Matt. I’ll be okay getting home.”

The easy smile has left his face, and he makes his way over to you. You stay rooted to the spot, knowing that rejecting his advancements would tip him off to the fact that something is wrong. There's also the factor that you hate denying him any sort of affection he needs to give or take from you, so you stand still and wait for him. When he’s in front of you, he reaches a hand up and pushes a piece of hair behind your ear, rubbing a finger over your cheekbone with the movement.

“Are you alright?” He asks quietly, his voice meant for only your ears. “I can at least walk you home if you want.”

You turn your head to press a light kiss to the inside of his wrist, unable to deny yourself the warmth that his closeness brings you. “I’m just tired, and I think my stomach is a little off.” This close to you, he should be able to tell a lie from the truth, but the words that leave your mouth are honest enough. You’re tired of feeling inadequate, and your stomach is reeling with the thought of other people seeing what you see when you look at Matt and Karen.

The excuse you’ve given him is completely true, he just doesn’t know the reasons behind them.

“Then I should definitely–”

Smiling slightly, you shake your head. “I’ll take a cab home. I want you to stay with your friends and have a good time. You earned it."

Matt sighs and reluctantly agrees to let you leave without him, but not before pulling you in close and placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I’ll call you later, alright? If you’re still up, I’ll come over when I’m done tonight.”

“That works,” you say with a small shrug. A small smile slides across his face, and he pulls you in one more time to press his mouth to yours, before he takes a step back and turns to face his friends. You send Foggy and Karen a quick wave and another false smile, before making your way to the door.

You don’t miss the way the two women from before not-so subtly eye you up and down with their eyebrows raised, no doubt finding you lacking for a beautiful man such as Matt, especially when compared to the gorgeous woman that is one Karen Page.

Your cheeks burn again, but you push past the women without a word.

When you’re all settled in bed, you curl your knees up to your chest, yanking your heavy blankets over you in an effort to keep yourself in and the rest of the world out. A few tears cloud your vision, but you squeeze your eyes tightly shut to keep them from slipping out. If Matt were to stop by, he’d smell the salt of the tears, and nothing would stop him from getting an answer out of you for why you were upset.

He’d know if you were lying, no longer distracted by his friends and the loud noise of the bar, and you’d be unable to persuade him to let it go. Feelings would tumble from your mouth unchecked, and he’d either be angry or hurt at your accusations. 

…or worse, he’d admit that he feels the way about Karen that the rest of the world has decided he should.

In order to keep that from happening, you turn your phone on do not disturb in an effort to make sure you’re not woken up by his call, hopefully keeping him away for the night if he decides not to disturb your sleep.

You ignore the way your heart twists painfully in your chest.

****************

“That looks awful, Foggy,” you tell him as you step into the office of Nelson, Murdock & Page a month later, eyeing the way his face is peeling from an awful sunburn he’d gotten on a trip to Florida to visit his parents. “Do you need me to go and get some aloe for you?”

Foggy laughs, but immediately winces as the expression on his face pulls at the skin that already looks extremely painful. “I’ve got some in my drawer,” he says, motioning to the bottom part of his desk. “I’ve been told to reapply several times during the day. Thank God I don’t have any clients coming in today. I'll just be here all day working through some case items with Matt.”

“That’s good at least,” you say, walking forward and placing a sandwich on Foggy’s desk before taking a seat in one of their lobby chairs, waiting for Matt to arrive so that you can have lunch with him in his office. You’d picked up sandwiches from his favorite deli, including one for Foggy, knowing Matt won’t have time to go out and meet up with you somewhere today.

“Thanks for bringing this, by the way,” Foggy says with the biggest smile he can offer with the way the skin has tightened on his face. “Though, I’m not quite sure how I’m going to open my mouth wide enough to eat this.”

You send him a sympathetic look. “I can’t imagine. It looks super uncomfortable.”

Foggy snorts. “If I can deal with watching Matt kiss Karen in the hospital that one time, I can deal with this. Now that was uncomfortable.”

Your blood runs cold. 

“Matt…kissed Karen?” You ask, heart hammering uncomfortably in your chest, the increased speed sharp and painful as it pounds relentlessly. “When was that?”

Foggy must not hear the way your voice has changed, too busy trying to take a bit of his sandwich. “During the Punisher case. I like…turned to look at them, and bam. A full smack of his lips against hers, and it looked just as uncomfortable for me as it was for them.”

“So this…was a while ago?” 

Foggy freezes, finally glancing back up at you, a confused frown on his face. “Matt didn’t tell you?”

You shift in your seat, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, but you're not quite sure if you pull it off. “Tell me what?”

He shakes his head. “I mean, it’s no big deal, really. They only dated for a small period of time, and it’s barely even worth mentioning, to be honest. It was right as Elektra came back into the picture.”

Ah, Elektra.

The woman whose scars you’ve been steadily trying to heal ever since you met him.

“Do you think it would have gone anywhere if Elektra hadn’t come back?” You ask hesitantly, fingernails biting into the palm of your hand. Foggy looks thoughtful.

“I’m not sure,” he says, appearing to think about it. “They definitely liked each other. It could have been something, had either one of them been truthful with each other. To be honest, I kind of thought they would try again after everything with Fisk, but they’ve remained just friends.”

You glance down at your hands, struggling to take a deep breath. When you glance back up, Foggy is frowning heavily.

“Are you okay?”

Forcing a smile on your face, you nod, trying to get rid of the images of beautiful Karen and handsome Matt, standing next to each other and smiling, like they had that night at Josie’s. The picture of them together flashes through your head almost brutally. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. I just didn’t know is all,” you tell him with a shrug of your shoulders. “And I’m super hungry, so I think I’m a little out of it.”

Foggy looks at you, eyes narrowing in consideration, before his face brightens again. “I totally feel that. Like…my life is perpetually split into two sections; eating, or thinking about when I’m going to eat again. My stomach is forever calling out for food.”

You laugh, and while you find what he’s said amusing, it’s not enough to drown out the roaring in your ears. The new knowledge has sent you spiraling, and it’s like every thought you’ve had about the two of them is standing in front of you, taunting you. Matt and Karen had at one point been together. Maybe only for a short period of time, according to Foggy, but feelings had been there, and you can’t help but think that you were possibly the thing that was standing in the way of the universe correcting itself.

Foggy has thankfully turned back to his sandwich, and you pray for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

Your phone rings, and you pull it out of your purse, grateful for the first time in your life to see your boss’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” her voice greets you, “I know you’re taking your lunch, but is there any way you can come back early? Someone in accounting messed up the data you’ve collected, and I could really use some help getting it sorted back out. It needs to be resubmitted by the end of the day.”

Perfect. 

“Yes, I can be there in ten. I’ll see you soon.”

Your boss hangs up, and you’re shoving your phone into your purse as you rise up from your chair. “I have to go, work emergency,” you tell Foggy in explanation as he looks at you questioningly. “Will you give Matt his lunch and tell him I’m sorry I missed him?”

He nods with a small grin, gingerly wiping his mouth with a napkin as he swallows, careful to not rub too hard. His skin really does look painful. “I’ll tell him to give you a call later. He’ll be sad that he didn’t get to spend lunch with you.”

Your heart aches painfully in your chest. You’re sad, too, but right now the relief far outweighs the disappointment. You’re not sure you’d be able to handle sitting across from him right now, insecurities and negative thoughts spreading through your entire body like an uncontrollable wildfire. 

Matt has always made your heart pound relentlessly in your chest, the mere thought of him sending you into overdrive. His wide smile. His cocky smirk. His beautiful eyes he only lets a select few see. His soft skin.

But now your heart is pounding for a whole different reason, the anxiety ensnaring you so completely in such a small period of time, and you don’t want him around to witness the fallout that’s bound to happen.

You send one last smile to Foggy, and if he notices the panic and misery in it, he doesn’t say anything.

*****************

The final nail in the coffin happens at a fundraiser Nelson, Murdock & Page had been invited to. The fundraiser was raising money to help underprivileged individuals afford legal counsel when charged with petty crimes, and the firm is happy to attend and donate what they can to the cause. 

Matt had asked you to accompany him, wide smile on his face while he told you about the mission and purpose, and you readily accepted his invitation to join. He seemed so eager and excited, and you couldn't have thought of an excuse to justify not going if you tried.

You’d picked out a beautiful dress for the evening. Red and black, an echo of the black he wears out at night, and the red of his sharp lenses, two different personas he puts on for the world. You prefer Matt in sweat pants and a hoodie with large fuzzy socks pulled up mid-shin, but you love all pieces of him, and this dress reminds you of the person he chooses to be for his city.

He’s running late, which is unsurprising, given the long day he’d had in court. He warned you earlier that his work day may run over, but that he’d join the group as quickly as possible. 

You enter the fundraiser with Foggy, Karen, and Marci instead, taking in the way the lobby of the museum has transformed into a beautiful layout filled with cocktail tables that are covered with sleek black cloths and lit-up centerpieces. The lighting is low and almost romantic, a soft jazz band is playing on a stage directly ahead, and there are various decorations and balloons in hues of blues and purples.

It’s not necessarily a black-tie event, but people are dressed beautifully as they talk amongst themselves, weaving in and out of the crowd as they greet and strike up new conversations with people who have just walked in. It’s not exactly surprising when an older woman walks up to the group with a smile on her face, arms outstretched for a hug. Your group of lawyers is bound to run into people they know.

“Foggy,” she greets warmly, pulling him in, squeezing him to her. Foggy leans in immediately, beaming at the woman.

“Emily,” he says with a kiss to her cheek. “Always wonderful to see you.” He turns to the rest of the group, arm still around her shoulders. “Everyone, this is Emily Davidson. She is an old friend of the family.”

She smiles broadly at the group, before lifting her face back towards Foggy

“Where’s Matt?” Emily questions, arm still wrapped around his waist after a brief chorus of hellos are said. “I thought he was coming.”

“He’ll be here soon,” Foggy answers easily. He takes a flute of champagne that a waiter hands to him. “This is–”

“Oh, you must be his girlfriend,” she says with a large smile, interrupting Foggy and finally stepping away from him. Her eyes are absolutely lit up with warmth and excitement. “Matt said you’d be here with him.”

But Emily isn’t looking at you. She’s looking at Karen.

Your heart drops. 

Of course it’s Karen. It’s always Karen.

“Aren’t you just beautiful,” she gushes, grabbing Karen’s hands in what can only be described as pure joy. “That boy always sure knew how to pick them.”

“I’m not—”

“He says you’ve been together for over a year, right?” She continues, voice carrying over Karen’s immediate objection. Karen gives you a look that is extremely apologetic, cheeks turning red. “None of the other women he’s brought around have stuck. I’m so happy to know someone as sweet looking as you has decided to–”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Karen finally manages to interrupt, looking deeply uncomfortable as she shifts on her feet. The woman frowns, but Karen removes her hands from hers and gestures towards you with a smile that is kind, but also increasingly awkward.

Emily stares at you for a second, mouth dropping infinitesimally, but she recovers quickly, a wide smile once again lighting up her face. Though she is subtle about it you don’t miss the way her eyes briefly glance up and down, as if sizing you up. 

“Oh. It’s so nice to meet you, dear,” she says, taking a step towards you. Her gaze upon you is kind, but more reserved and closed off than it had been with Karen. She seems to be yet another person who expects Matt to have someone as beautiful as Karen on his arm, and the thought causes your throat to go dry and your heart to drop. “You look lovely, too. That dress is stunning.”

You force a smile, and you hate the way it’s appeared on your face more and more these past few weeks. It was once a smile that was meant for the occasional awkward conversation, but lately it’s almost found a permanent home on your face.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” you tell her, hugging her awkwardly when she pulls you in. Your body is full of tension, and your movements feel stiff. She pulls away, taking a step back. She eyes the group once more, the four of you in a semi-circle around her, before mentioning that she has some friends she needs to catch up with. Emily walks away, unaware of the turmoil that is brewing in you.

The air is sweltering around the four of you, and your hand is holding on to your clutch in a grip that would be bruising if it was someone's hand instead.

Karen abruptly turns to you, an hesitant smile on her face, “I–”

“Does anyone know where the bathroom is?” You cut her off, making a show of looking around you, trying to spot one. Your eyes land on one finally, and it’s like a lifeline that’s calling to you. “Oh, there it is. I’ll be back in a few.” Without another word, you turn on your heel and make your way towards the bathroom, shoes clacking loudly on the floor. 

You're in a stall before you know it, the bathroom shockingly but thankfully unoccupied. You lock the stall door with shaking hands, begging yourself not to cry as your face crumbles. The last thing you want is to go back out to your friends with red eyes and smeared mascara, so you bite your tongue until it bleeds.

You have to get out of here.

An idea springs up inside your head, and you yank your phone out of your purse, immediately pulling up your message chain with your younger sister. 

Text Sent 7:32pm: I need you to call me in fifteen minutes with an emergency.

You hold your breath, praying that your sister responds shortly. It’s always been a code when one of you needs an excuse to get out of something, and you’ve never relied on it the way you’re relying on it now.

Text Received 7:33pm: Is everything okay?

Sighing in relief that she’s answered so quickly, tears still pricking at your eyes, you type out a quick reply.

Text Sent 7:33pm: Not really, but I’ll explain later. Can you call me in a few?

Text Received 7:34pm: Absolutely.

You rejoin your friends with another fake smile, and make an effort to seem as put together as possible. Temporarily shoving your misery aside, you crack a few jokes, laugh at Foggy’s commentary of the people around him, and tap your champagne flute against Karen’s in a funny, random toast, ignoring the way she’s looking at you in concern. You make a show of wondering where Matt is, casually mentioning that he had said he would be arriving soon, craning your neck to glance around the room as if in search for him.

In reality, you’re hoping he’s nowhere near the event, so that you can slip out without a word.

You know you’re being borderline childish with how you’re reacting. It had been an easy mistake on Emily’s part, but it’s once again reinforcing the idea that Matt should be with someone who looks like Karen, at least by society’s standards.

A beautiful man with a beautiful woman. It doesn't matter that he's blind and can't possibly know what his partner looks like; there's still an unfortunate, unspoken rule that says beautiful people belong with other beautiful people.

You're cute, in your own way. But other people don't seem to think it's enough. And while you’d normally be the type of person to flip society the bird, you can only hear the same message so many times before it starts to sink in like a poison with no antidote.

True to her word, your sister calls at the fifteen minute mark, and you feel the way your phone is vibrating in your purse. You pull it out, sending a quick apologetic look to the trio as you take a small step to the side, and answer it.

“Hello?”

“Are you coming over to talk about whatever is going on?” Your sister says in greeting, her dry tone still managing to sound a bit concerned.

“Oh no, are you okay?” You ask in reply, placing a heavy frown on your face. The group is watching you closely, even while they make small talk amongst themselves.

“Did Matt do something?”

“I’m at an event right now,” you say, somehow managing to sound regretful, letting a wince slide across your face. Foggy looks at you, his brow furrowed, as if trying to figure out what's going on. When he wants to be, he's more perceptive than anyone ever gives him credit for. “Can I come by after?”

“Tell whoever’s there that I need stitches or something,” your sister suggests helpfully.

You sigh loudly, shifting your eyes upward in what you hope conveys a small amount of annoyance. “Okay, I’m coming.” You hang up shortly after, turning to the group with an unhappy look across your face. At least that part isn’t necessarily a lie. 

“Do you really have to leave?” Karen asks, and while she sounds sympathetic to whatever may have happened on the phone, there’s also a tiny spark of suspicion in her eyes. You ignore it.

“My sister sliced her hand open and probably needs stitches,” you say as an explanation, grimacing. “She asked me to meet her at the hospital. She’s awful with needles and is freaking out. I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”

Marci gives you a sad smile, and it looks a little too knowing for your taste. She’s the one who knows you the least, and while she’s a part of the friend group by way of Foggy, you don’t know her nearly enough to be overly concerned about whether or not she believes the act.

Foggy and Karen, on the other hand, seem to be a little more cautious with the explanation you’ve given, and you know that if you stay with them much longer, they’ll see right through the agony that’s tearing its way through you, no matter how hard you’re trying to keep it at bay.

“Tell Matt that I’m sorry to have to leave so early,” you say to Foggy as you lean in to give him a hug. Karen hugs you, too, and you try not to flinch from the touch. 

Beautiful, lovely Karen. It’s not her fault, you know. But it doesn’t stop the sting.

“You could call him yourself,” Foggy suggests as you move to leave the group. You don’t answer, adrenaline and panic finally sliding through the cracks, and you can’t be there one second more. 

You’re crying on your sister’s couch in a set of pajamas she’s leant you forty-five minutes later, bottle of whiskey on the table in front of you, your cell phone once again on do not disturb with a growing collection of missed calls and voicemails.

******************

You stumble back into your apartment the next morning, still dressed in your sister’s pajamas, evening dress bunched over your arm. Your expensive heels hang almost pathetically from your fingers, a reminder of a failed night out, having been replaced by a pair of old flip flops.

“Hey,” a voice says, and you’re not necessarily surprised to see him standing in your kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee. He looks tired, more tired than you’ve seen in a long time, and you wince, knowing a large part of it is due to you.

“Hey,” you whisper in reply. You set your shoes and dress on your kitchen table, rubbing your eyes tiredly. “What are you doing here?”

Matt’s eyebrows shoot up in slight surprise, mouth parting. “Am I…unwelcome here? Am I intruding?”

“No, of course not,” you say in a rush, disliking the way his beautiful face flashes with something that looks like hurt. “I just…wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

“You would have known if you bothered to answer my calls or listen to any of the several voicemails I left last night.”

You hang your head in shame and guilt. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I had no idea what was going on,” he tells you, placing his coffee cup on the counter and taking a slow step forward. There's a look of concern on his face, though it's buried under a level of irritation and exasperation that seems to be slowly settling in. “You were just…gone.”

“I told Foggy and Karen that my sister–”

“You’re a horrible liar, sweetheart,” Matt says with a laugh that almost sounds bitter. “They knew something was up, and unfortunately I was still too far away to know something had happened to actually do anything.”

“Nothing hap–”

“Did you miss the part where I just said you are a horrible liar?”

Your jaw snaps shut. 

“Your sister finally called me back last night after you went to bed, or else I would have had no idea where you were,” Matt says, and he sounds extremely frustrated. “You can’t…you can’t just disappear on me like that.”

You know the way people have just up and left him in the past without a word, you know the way it has continued to leave scars on him, and it makes you feel incredibly guilty. But it doesn't stop the way you begin to also feel defensive, a direct result of the weeks of hurt still flowing through you. 

“I’m not a child, Matt,” you tell him in something that could almost be construed as a snap. “You don’t need to know my whereabouts all hours of the day.”

He looks like he’s been slapped and you wince, already regretting the words. “That’s not–you think that’s what this is? Me being clingy? Or–or me trying to control what you do?”

“No–”

“Foggy said you ran out of there last night looking like you were about to burst into tears and all I could do was call and call and call and pray that you were okay. You went to your sister’s place in Jersey because you knew I wouldn’t be able to track you the further away you got, right? That I would have no idea where you were unless someone told me?"

You flinch, you can't help it. “That wasn’t the only rea–”

“And all because a woman mistook Karen as my girlfriend instead of you?” He asks incredulously. “How childish is that?”

It’s your turn to feel like you’ve been slapped. Your cheeks flood in shame, embarrassment, pain. You’re not quite sure how to respond to it, because a part of you knows how childish it had been. But the insecurity is not based on one event, but a series of them, and the chorus of voices in your head that tells you you're not good enough for him has been growing steadily louder since that night at the bar.

Matt’s words have effectively stunned you into silence, and while you open your mouth several times to speak, nothing comes out. Your shoulders sag, and you all but curl into yourself, hugging your arms around your waist in an effort to appear as small as possible.

To take up as little space as possible. 

The way Matt is still tense tells you that he had been ready for you to fire something back at him, some sort of rebuttal that he’d easily tear down as he would in court, and when you don’t, he seems confused. His brow furrows as you all but wilt in front of him. 

You watch as a flicker of realization passes over his face, and you cringe. He's caught on, and you don't like it.

“It actually…it actually hurt you,” he says, and his voice is startlingly quiet, a sharp contrast to the way he had sounded so heated and frustrated just moments before. “Didn’t it?”

You give a noncommittal shrug, shoulders rising and falling ever so slightly, but otherwise don’t have any sort of reaction. 

Matt licks his lips, and your eyes can’t help but follow the motion even in your misery. “Why…why did that upset you so much?” You shrug your shoulders again, but he shakes his head, as if refusing your lack of a response. “No-no, don’t do that. You can’t have a reaction like that and expect me to just not say anything about it, to not want to know what’s wrong or what I can do to fix it. Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes are welling with tears before you can even try to stop them, and with a quiet whine, you cover your face in your hands. 

You hear Matt swear, and before you can even take your first shuddering breath, he is wrapped around you. Your head is tucked under his chin, a hand cradling the back of your skull to keep you pressed into him, the other wrapped around your back. You leave your hands covering your face, unwilling to tear down the barrier at the moment. You’re barely holding things in as it is, and the thought of exposing yourself to him completely right now is terrifying.

He’s whispering soothing words into your ear, the same things he always tells you when he knows you’re upset, and while the words take the edge off, they’re not a match for the misery that’s got you shredded by its claws.

Eventually he takes a step back, though his body is still pressed lightly against yours. With slow movements, he removes his arms from around you, and gently tries to pry your hands from your face. You struggle against him for a moment, tears still soaking your hands, but you give in, as you so often do, when it comes to the gentle force that is Matt Murdock.

He tilts your face up and places a soft kiss onto your forehead, palms cupping your face as he gently wipes the tears that have dripped down your cheeks. His eyes dance blindly across your face, and though he can’t see the way your sadness has literally poured from you, he can feel the way the heat of the tears have scalded you on their way down.

“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart,” he whispers against your skin, still cradling your face in his scarred, calloused hands. “What happened?”

You take a deep breath, one that sounds more like a gasp than anything, and keep your eyes squeezed shut. “Everyone always…everyone always assumes you’re with her.”

“With Karen?”

You nod, fingers twisting themselves into the t-shirt he’s wearing. 

“It’s happened more than once?”

“It happens all the time,” you tell him with something that sounds suspiciously like another sob. His frown deepens. “And maybe…maybe I just hear it more now because I've become so sensitive to it, but it’s happened quite a few times. And I know how stupid it is because I shouldn’t listen to what other people say, but it still just sucks to hear it over and over again.”

“What do people say?”

You try to twist out of his grasp, but he doesn’t let you. He presses another kiss to your forehead and asks the question again, softer this time. “They say…they say how beautiful you are together. How you’ll have beautiful children together. And when they–when they see that you’re with me instead, it’s almost like it’s offensive to them.”

Matt makes a mournful sound in the back of his throat, thumb catching a new wave of tears that trail down your cheeks at the admission. “None of that matters to me. You know that. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met, and I don't need to be able to see you to know that.”

“I know,” you whimper, and the sound makes you feel borderline pathetic. “But it matters to me.”

“Why, sweetheart?”

“Because it’s like everyone is saying I’m not good enough for you,” you say, still keeping your eyes closed as you expel the root of the insecurity. You feel like you're tearing yourself apart for him, the wounds every bit as real as the ones you spend night after night patching up on him. 

“She is beautiful and kind and all the wonderful things you can think about a person. And I love Karen, she is such a wonderful person, and I'm incredibly lucky to call her a friend." You open your eyes briefly, taking in the way Matt looks just as pained at the words spilling from your mouth. "But it’s hard when everyone is basically telling me that she’s the person you should be with. And it’s–it’s not like I haven’t thought the same thing before. But hearing it come from other people just makes it worse.”

“Why would you–”

“And then Foggy told me–”

“Foggy?”

“--that you and Karen used to date,” you continue, as if the words can’t be stopped now. “He told me that you were together briefly, and that maybe it would have continued had Elektra not come into the picture. He said he had half-expected you two to perhaps get back together, or to try again. And I couldn’t help but think that maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. That maybe I’m just some placeholder until–”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he says, and though he hasn’t raised his voice, the tone is stern and it finally manages to cut you off. You lower your head, but he lifts it back up. “Open your eyes.” With a deep breath, you do so, his face coming into view above yours. His mouth is parted in something that both resembles shock and slight frustration. “I am with you because I love you. Not because I can’t have Karen. Not because it didn’t work out with her. I am not with her because I don’t want her. I want you, only you.” 

“But–”

“We went on one date, and I knew pretty early on that even though it felt nice for a moment, it was never going to be something that was sustainable, or worth fighting for because she wasn’t right for me. There is nothing between us, and there hasn’t been in years, and there won’t ever be again, because I am with the person I want to be with,” he tells you fiercely, pressing his forehead into yours, thumb tracing your bottom lip. “I am yours in every single way. And whatever you need from me to help you believe that, say the word and it’s yours.”

His tone is once again quiet and gentle by the time he’s finished speaking, and the words are a balm that rushes through your skin, putting out and soothing the heat and anxiety that has been coursing through your veins since the night before. You take shuddering breath after shuddering breath, attempting to bring your heart rate back down to normal, and at last you succeed.

“Sweetheart?” he asks gently when you’re quiet for too long. He pulls his head back, head tilted down towards you in the way you’re so familiar with. “Tell me what you need from me.”

You shake your head, contemplating the right words. “I can’t think of anything that you don’t already do, Matt,” you admit softly. “You…you already know what I need before I even know how to articulate it.”

He's quiet for a moment before he opens his mouth. "Do we need to…keep a little distance from her for a bit?" He looks deeply unsettled by the idea, and it's equally disorienting to you, too.

"God, no," you say with a gasp, jerking back as far as his hold on you will let you. "None of this is on her, at all. And I don't want her to feel like she did anything, because she didn't."

Matt looks relieved. "I didn't think it would be something you'd go for, but I wanted to throw it on the table, in case you did need some space."

You shake your head. "No, I don't need anything like that. I promise. Foggy and Karen are my friends, too, you know," you tell him, mouth tilted ever slightly at the corner as you think about all the memories you've shared over the past year. "Sure, I met them through you, but I love them. You're a package deal, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

He tucks a stand of hair behind your ear. "They feel the same way about you."

You can't help the way your smile widens slightly. "Good…I'm glad."

Matt places another kiss on your forehead, pausing again before he speaks. “I like to think I'm good at reading you,” he says softly, eyes landing on your shoulder, the color almost green in the sunlight that's pouring in from your kitchen window. “And I like to think that not a lot gets by me. But this did. And it seems like it’s been there for a while.”

You shrug, as always trying to downplay the way you’re feeling, but per usual, Matt doesn’t let you get away with it. 

“It was a miss on my part,” he continues with a sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on the fact that something was off.”

“Nothing about this is your fault, so please don’t apologize.” He opens his mouth to object, but you shush him with a soft finger on his lips. “I could have said something. I know how to use my words. I… purposefully avoided you when I was feeling like this because I knew you’d pull it out of me eventually. So that’s on me, I think.”

He looks contemplative for a second, before a small smile graces his face. You trace his mouth with the finger that’s already resting there, and he takes the opportunity to press a kiss to it. “I’ll make an effort to listen more for when something might be upsetting you, and you’ll make an effort to talk to me about it. Deal?”

Nodding, you mirror the small grin. “Deal.”

“And if I feel the need to pull you close and put my hands on you in public so that everyone knows you're mine, you'll be okay with that, right?"

You can't help but huff a laugh. "Matt–"

"Or if you prefer, you can do the same to me, whenever the need arises," he says innocently.

Your eyebrows raise. "Why do I feel like you're asking me to claim you in public?"

"It's a mutual claiming, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes fondly. "I guess when you put it that way, how can I say no?"

Matt smirks as he lowers his mouth towards yours, hand slipping into your hair so that you are angled perfectly beneath him. "Seal it with a kiss?”

“Absol–”

His lips are on yours before you’re done speaking the word.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

black friday - m. murdock

a/n: an old work i finished because i decided y'all are owed something cute and fluffy. shoutout to all my girlies who were in codependent relationships for so long that they needed to figure out who they were again after ! as always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! warnings: lots of fluff, lots of kissing, lots of talks about a bad ex, reader is rather shy at first, cursing probably but it's late and i'm probably forgetting so much im so sorry also a lot of suggestive behavior because they're in love word count: 4.5k summary: you have a list of things to do within a year of living in new york. matt helps you check everything off- oh, and you fall in love with him, too. it's not on the list, but you do it anyways. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: black friday - tom odell "i wanna go party/i wanna have fun/wanna be happy/could you show me how it's done?/ you look so pretty/pretty like the sun"

For a long time, you thought you’d never get over your ex.

For a long time, you believed that you were it for each other. You’d go the whole nine yards—Kids, a quaint house in your hometown, Sunday dinners.

And for a long time after he broke up with you, you thought you’d never let yourself love again. How could you? How would you allow yourself to be set up for failure, after letting someone know every part of you?

You had been dating him since high school and had been living with him in your first apartment when he broke it off.

Sometimes, it was amazing, and you were never happier. But most days, it had been full of anger and talking him off the ledge all the time. It was makeup sex after arguments you couldn’t remember now.

So, when he did break up with you, you decided to use it as an excuse to run far, far away from your small town. And you found yourself in Hell’s Kitchen.

You land a job at a small law firm, and at first, you just work as a meek little office assistant.

Nelson, Murdock & Page grew by the day, and for a while, you felt out of place. It wasn’t that you were abused or worked to the bone, you just struggled to make friends, and you weren’t very social while getting over your ex anyways.

So, for about two months, you did your job quietly, laughing quietly at the bickering of your bosses, thanking Karen Page for her advice, enjoying coffee with Foggy Nelson, and of course…

Never muttering a word to Matt Murdock. He was just too intimidating. Besides, you still felt like your ex’s eyes were watching your every move, even thousands of miles away, even now.

Then one night, Foggy couldn’t handle it anymore. So, he approached you quietly at the end of a long workday, with a simple phrase.

“This week’s been crazy, huh? Hey, a few of us are going to the bar tonight, did you want to come?”

What were you supposed to say? ‘No, my ex who I don’t talk to wouldn’t like that?’

Please.

“Oh, Uhm.. I don’t know, who else is going?”

“It’ll be me, my wife, Marci, Karen..” He said.

“Sure, I’ll come.” You smiled, before you could stop yourself.

“Awesome! I’ll send you the address! I’m so glad you’re tagging along!” He grins. You’re thrilled too.

“Me too, it’ll be fun.” He begins to walk away but then he turns back around with a snap of his fingers.

“Oh! And Matt is going!”

Why wouldn’t he tell you that in the first place? Why was your face burning? Why was your heart racing?

“Oh, Great.” You told him, now suddenly conscious of everything about that night.

• • •

At the bar, you wound up ordering a drink before you went over to your friends—Well, Coworkers, you wouldn’t call them friends yet, thanking the woman behind the bar.

Then, you made your way over to them where Foggy was playing his wife in Pool—and losing horribly. So, you sit with Karen and Matt, where there is conveniently one seat available, right between the two.

Karen excitedly said your name as you approach adding a, “I can’t believe you came!” Which, ouch, but, fair.

“Well, Foggy was right, this week’s been awful, so I wanted to relax.” You smiled, sitting with them.

“I’m glad,” she said, before asking, “So, why’d you move to New York?” She knew you weren’t from here, so you figured the question would come up eventually.

“Just needed a change of pace from a small town, you know?”

“I do,” she nodded, “Do you like it here?”

Did you like being alone all the time, feeling like you’re always doing something wrong? Like you should run back to your hometown and beg your ex to marry you?

“Yeah, I love it. It’s so different in a way I wasn’t really prepared for, but it’s great.” You lied.

Matt’s blind. Why did it feel like he has this burning gaze into your skin?

“Did you go to college in your hometown, too?”

“Yeah,” You smile. You loved College. You were an early education major and had even gotten your masters in your small community college. You loved teaching, and if you hadn’t moved, you’d have stayed at the school that hired you after student teaching there. But, when you got to the city, you were unable to find consistent work because the demand for teachers was so high.

So here you were, working as an office assistant for a small law firm.

Karen glanced down to her glass and frowned.

“I’m going to grab another drink, do either of you want anything?”

“I’m good, Karen.”

“No, thank you.”

Silence. Sickening silence.

Then, he spoke.

“Do you know how upset I am that you got your drink already?”

What?

You furrowed your brows, confused.

“I’m sorry?”

“I wanted to buy you a drink, but you beat me to it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” You repeated, a light blush on your face.

“Well, I figured it might be nice to wipe the slate clean, considering you haven’t spoken more than ten words to me since you started working with us.”

That was true. There’s just something that feels so wrong about it, even though you worked with him,

“I’m sorry,” you said again, and he just laughed.

“You say that a lot.”

“I’m sor—” You caught yourself, clearing your throat. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, you speak to everyone, just not me. So, I listen and I’m pretty sure you apologize more than anything else.”

Your face was beet red.

“Okay, Okay, I get it. I don’t talk a lot, especially not to you. It’s something I’m working on, I have a whole list of things I’m working on.”

That’s true. You had an actual list of goals you have before your first year in New York is up.

“A list?”

“A list.”

“May I?” He asked, and you sighed, pulling out your phone, your list nestled deep into your notes app.

“Apologize less and talk to you is at the top.” You told him. “Then it’s get a job I love,”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry, Boss.” You took a sip of your drink, “Move into a nicer apartment, and uh..” You sighed softly. “Get over my ex.”

He tilts his head.

“Your ex?”

“The reason I moved here. He broke up with me about six months ago, but we were together for so long it feels like an impossible task.”

Matt knows the feeling.

“It’s an easy enough list. We can help you.” He says, “When did you move to New York?”

“May 1st.”

“Okay, then by May of next year, you should have everything accomplished.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna help you.”

“Oh, so now it’s you and not all of you?”

Now it’s his turn to blush.

“You’re rather talkative now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like it.”

• • •

Talking to Matt is easy, you discover quickly.

It’s the apologizing that gets you.

You’re staying late at the office about a month later, while Hell’s Kitchen is amid a blistering heat wave.

You feel like you might die. You’re editing a closing argument Foggy wants to practice when Matt calls your name gently.

“Can I see you in my office for a second?” He asks. You follow him into his office, not really thinking much of it.

“What’s up?” You ask, sitting in the spare chair in his office as he closes the door behind him, going to the seat at his desk.

“Well, remember that list we talked about?”

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t heard much from you this week.”

That’s true, it’s just been sort of a hectic time with cases piling up. You can only do so much work AND talk to your favorite coworker. Yes, Matt had quickly become your favorite person at the office, even after just a month of really trying to open up to him.

He learned about your ex, your holiday traditions and that you hate peppermint.

You learned about his parents, his favorite dessert, and that he dresses up every night to go fight the criminals of New York.

Okay, you technically weren’t supposed to learn that, but you had stopped by his apartment early to drop off a file you were working on, and he had just crawled home and was still in his suit when he answered the door, forgetting completely that you didn’t know.

So now You knew how he was able to tell that you lied to Karen that night at the bar.

“I’m—” You start to apologize, but then you stop yourself. “I’m not sorry, I’ve been busy and so have you, but I do miss talking to you, though I am not sorry.” You say, and he grins.

“That’s my girl.”

Huh.

Your stomach swirls and you beam at the praise.

Wait, what?

You brush it off, before asking,

“Does Daredevil still come out to play even though it’s a hundred degrees out?”

“Will you have your window open with a few bottles of water open for me?”

“Always.”

“Then yes.”

Talking to Matt is rather easy. You have a feeling that soon the apologizing will follow.

• • •

October is the month of figuring out what you want to do with your life.

Sure, you love working in the office, but you are going crazy. You’re under stimulated and the hours are consistently long.

So, you try a lot of things.

You bake, you cook, you take exams, you work tirelessly to try and figure out where you want to work and where you’ll be happiest.

You try doing hair but find yourself uninspired.

You think you might like being a nursing assistant but turns out, you don’t like blood.

But part of you knows your heart isn’t in it, for two reasons.  

For one, you want to teach. You want to be teaching young kids’ addition and their spelling and stars. You desperately want to be a great influence in their lives.

And the second thing is..

You don’t want to leave your coworkers.

You love spending time with Karen and Foggy. For a long time, you didn’t have friends outside of your relationship, and they are the best friends you’ve ever had.

Foggy spends long coffee breaks cracking jokes with you and asking for your sandwich order, telling you that you have to stop by his brother’s deli for one of his signature subs. Then he tells you this long-winded story about how his mother wanted him to be a butcher, not a lawyer.

Karen is your favorite girl. She’s not only drop dead gorgeous and ridiculously smart, but she is also kind like no one you have ever met. She texts you when you forget to let her know you’ve gotten home safe, there is always a coffee on your desk when you get there and for your birthday, flowers are on your desk, scribbled with a cute note in her handwriting.

And then, there’s Matt.

He’s your best friend and knows you better than anyone. He loves having you right in the office where he can hear your heartbeat and smell your vanilla coconut perfume. He tells you about his dad and you tell him about your folks.

He knows your Chinese and Thai food orders like the back of his hand, always ordering you some when he gets his. You describe the movies you’re watching in detail, and he hangs on to every word. There is no one who sees you more than him, and he’s quite literally blind. When you tell him about your dream to go back into teaching, he encourages it.

“When I was a kid, I’d have benefited so much from someone like you.”

He asks you to do his makeup for his Halloween costume, no matter how badly it irritates his skin. He likes the idea of your hands so close to his face.

But you’re both critically aware of how, not only is the market flooded, but you’re dreading the day you leave your little office job.

So many people have asked if the two of you are dating. And you both always laugh, because.. because you just love each other in a way that you can’t describe. But no, you’ve never thought about dating Matt Murdock.

Until this one day.

It’s like any other day, really. You have your friends cramped in your tiny apartment and you’re just waiting for Matt’s arrival before you eat dinner for the night.

Karen, Foggy and Marci sit at your little table as you finish cooking, and Marci just glances over to you.

“You need to move to a better apartment.”

“I know, I know,” you laugh, “But she’s so cozy! I love it here!” It was, and is, all you could afford, but you grew to love it.

“Yeah, and I love having leg room.” Foggy chimes.

“You know what, Nelson? You could just, pay me more so I could move somewhere nicer?”

“Touche.” There’s a knock on the door, so you grin and head over there, opening the door for Matt.

And you need to take a second.

He’s holding your favorite bottle of wine, and he’s in these nice dark jeans and a gray sweater under his peacoat.

This thought strikes you.

This thing you thought you’d never feel again after your ex.

Matt Murdock is hot, and you have got to have him.

This is it. The thing you can’t deny any longer. You have a massive crush on the devil that disguises himself as your favorite person. To you, he is an angel.

“Hey,” you say breathily, as if you have it out for yourself. Surely he’ll know. “You didn’t have to bring wine.” You told him, a soft smile on your face.

He steps inside as you take the wine, leaning in to kiss your cheek gently, something he has found himself doing every time he enters your apartment. It’s your routine.  He loves this aspect of your dynamic because he has known that he’s wanted you for months. You’ve just been so caught up in everything that you didn’t see it.

“It’s no trouble, thank you for having us,” he says gently.

So this is it.

You just can’t deny it.

You have a massive crush on Matt Murdock, and there isn’t a thing you could do about it. Except maybe kiss him. But for that night, you just kind of relax and pretend you’re already dating him. That’s something you haven’t done in a long time.

You’re beginning to feel like yourself again.

• • •

Nelson Family Christmas celebrations are something of legend for you. For months you’ve heard about it, and you’re on your way to the deli with a handful of presents and two trays of cookies.

You’ve decided that just once, you want a holiday away from your family. Truth be told, you really don’t want to spend your holiday without your best friends.

You have on this stunning outfit—A red sweater, a black skirt and these warm black stockings. Boots to die for.

You know Matt can’t see your outfit, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to dress up for him. It’s weird. This crush thing has been getting out of control.

You’re greeted at the door of the Deli with a crowd full of blonde-haired New York Irish-Italians, and they’re all lovely. You put your presents down and place your cookies on the dessert table. And you love Foggy’s family. They ask you questions constantly, and Foggy’s sister-in-law talks to you for a while about her career in the local high school system.

It’s a joy to meet so many people so full of love.

So, you go over to Foggy as he’s yapping and say gently, “Hey, where’s Matt?”

He grins.

“Why do you want to go kiss him under the mistletoe?” He teases. Your face goes red.

“Shut up! Where is he, Franklin?” You glare and he laughs, patting your arm.

“Upstairs in the hallway.” He says, and as you walk away he calls, “Go get ‘em, Tiger!” You glare and grab a cookie on your way up.

And you find him, standing in a quiet corner of the hallway. You go to open your mouth and he turns to you.

“Merry Christmas,” he leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Matty.” You hum. “Guess what type of cookie I have.”

He sniffs the air and shakes his head. “Give me a taste and I’ll guess.” You hand him the cookie and he put it in his mouth halfway, raising his eyebrows to you.

“What?”

He gestures to the cookie in his mouth, and you laugh, realizing that he wants you to bite the other end, ala Lady and the Tramp. So you lean forward and take a bite, and he eats the rest, inches separating your face as you enjoy your treat.

People chatter down the hallway and Christmas music plays from somewhere. There are so many different foods and people, and all Matt can focus on is the vanilla coconut scent of your perfume. When you’re both finished eating your cookie, his hands find your waist.

“Matt, what are you—”

You don’t get the chance to finish because suddenly he is kissing you in the dark hallway of your friend’s family Christmas party. The kiss is wonderful. He tastes of the cookie you two shared. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

You need more kissing practice because it’s been so long. But you get the feeling that Matt won’t mind helping you out if this is another thing you want to add to your list.

When he pulls away, he’s a bit breathless but he says one thing to you.

“Chocolate chip peanut butter.”

“What?”

“That’s my guess for the cookie type.”

“Wanna kiss me again to confirm?” He grins and his hands travel down, just slightly to feel the materials of your skirt.

“That’s my girl.”

• • •

The next two months fly by in a whirl of kissing Matt, trying to find a teaching job and enjoying your first real winter in New York.

By the time March rolls around, the clock is ticking for you to be able to find a job in this school year. And then, Foggy and Matt get you the best gift ever.

“Mrs. Future Murdock,” You send Foggy a glare.

“Watch it.”

“Okay, listen—You remember that rich guy that was wrongfully accused of tax evasion?”

“Yeah, why?” You’re cleaning up your office space for the weekend, excited to go to Josie’s, have a few drinks and unwind with your very handsome boyfriend.

“Well, he’s a super intendent for a large school district in Hell’s Kitchen.” Your head snaps up to the two.

“What does that mean for me?” You raise an eyebrow.

“There’s an older teacher there who needed to have surgery and we thought, hey, we know a teacher who could sub in.”

“…Who?”

“You.” Matt says, and you grin. “Your interview is Monday.”

You gasp and hug Foggy quickly, before making your way over to Matt.

“You are the absolute best.” You kiss him quickly and his hands, as they often do, find themselves on your hips. “Thank you.”

What a lovely lovely man.

“Don’t thank us yet, you still need to get the job.” Right.

Your night at Josie’s is lovely but you spend the rest of your weekend prepping for the interview on Monday. It goes well, but something in you is telling you to stay anxious. Why? You have no idea.

It takes two weeks for them to get back to you. But you walk into the office of Nelson, Murdock & Page with a big grin. You walk right into Matt’s office, who glances up to you when you walk in, your heart racing.

“Hey, Sweetheart, I—” He cuts himself off when you walk right up to his desk and pull his chair out before finding yourself on Matt’s lap.  Your arms wrap around his neck and his arms find your waist. Before he can say much else, you kiss him quickly, and he grins into the kiss. Eventually, when you do pull away, Matt asks, “Everything okay?”

“Matty, consider this to be my two weeks’ notice.”

He gasps happily.

“Oh my god! How awful it is that you’re leaving us!” He grins, kissing you quickly. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you for getting me the interview.” You tell him, “You know if I do well, the teacher might let me coteach with her next year.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Our list is almost done, baby.”

“Your list, not ours.”

“Yeah but you’ve been helping so much.”

“You’re easy to help.”

“You’re easy to love.”

He blushes and decides to kiss his girl again.

• • •

 So, in April, a month before your year is up, you find yourself needing a new apartment. The rent is getting crazy, and it’s nowhere near the school you’re working in. Especially considering that the teacher you’re subbing for decided she wanted to retire so you’d be taking over for her full time come Fall.

Plus, your apartment is small and cramped, especially with Matt’s stuff slowly invading your place. You discuss this with him one night. It’s late and he’s covered in cuts from his Daredeviling.

“I hate apartment hunting.” You whine, and he hums, kissing your head gently. “Nowhere is good enough. Too far from the school, too far from you, too expensive.” You complain.

“Why don’t you move in here?”

Huh. Why hadn’t you thought of that? Was it too quick to be moving in with him at this point? Maybe, but something told you Matt wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“Really?”

He grins.

“Really. It’s close to the school, a good price, and rather close to me.” You grin and kiss him softly. It’s your favorite habit.

So, two weeks later, you’re hauling boxes into your boyfriend’s apartment. You take a few drawers of his dresser and some of your nicer outfits find their way into his armoire. Your mugs sit comfortably next to his in his cabinets. Your cabinets.

Your throw blanket is draped comfortably across his couch, and your shoes lay next to his.

Your lotion sits next to his first aid kit. You love dating Matt Murdock.

You love that next month will be one year since you moved to New York, and your life is sort of coming together. Glorious Matthew Murdock is your boyfriend. Your job is amazing. Your apartment is wonderful. Matt Murdock is your boyfriend, and he is amazing at kissing you.

• • •

So, Matt knows May is your year since moving to New York. He knows you guys could go to Josie’s and have a normal old time at the bar…

But he wants to do something special for you. So, he asks Foggy, Marci and Karen to get dressed up and go to a bar on the nicer side of town. Not that you don’t love Josie’s but your one year in New York calls for a special occasion.

You decide to wear a nice satin dress and he loves running his hands over the soft fabric. To Mat, you are perfect in every way, and every day he falls deeper and deeper in love with you.

So on a warm May night in Hell’s Kitchen, you sit in a bougie bar with your best friends, boyfriend and enjoy a year since you moved to this wonderful place you now call home. And a year and four months since your ex broke up with you. Truly, for a long time, you thought you’d never get over him.

Now, Matt is all you see.

At some point, a little tipsy, you kiss Matt’s cheek gently and tell him you’re going to grab another drink.

“Do you want anything?” You ask softly.

“Just for you to come back soon. I’ll miss you.” Oh, Tipsy Matt was your favorite.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” You kiss him quick and head off to the bar. You order another drink and wait patiently, taking in just how happy you are in this moment.

Then, a familiar voice calls your name, and you glance over and you can’t believe it.

Your ex-boyfriend is right in front of you, and for a moment, you convince yourself you must be drunker than you realized.

“Wow, you look fantastic!” He says a grin on his face. Was… Was your ex ever… attractive? You can’t remember if he ever was. Especially not since dating Matt.

“Oh, Thanks..” You smile softly, trying to be polite but to get out of here quickly and get back to the arms of your loving boyfriend.

“Are you here with anyone?”

“Yeah.” You told him. “Some of my good friends, and—”

“So, you’re not seeing anyone?” You furrow your eyebrows. When did you say that?

Then, there’s an arm around your waist, and you know whose it is in an instant.

“Hey, Sweetheart.. Is everything okay?” Matt asks, smiling to you. Oh, he knows. He knows big time.

“Everything is great.” You turn to your ex and grin. “This is Matt, He’s my—”

“Fiancé.” Matt ends.

Fiancé?

“Fiancé?” Your ex asks, bewildered.

“Mhm. Got engaged a few days ago, that’s what we’re here celebrating.” You said gently, leaning your head against Matt’s arm.

“Engaged, but you’ve only been here for a year!”

“Well, I wasn’t about to wait around for you to ask me to date you again.” You glance over to Matt. “Besides, when you know you know.” You say softly.

Matt leans in and kisses you gently, “When you know, you know.” He echoes.

Your ex is wildly uncomfortable.

“I thought you said you’d always love me.” He says, and he has that intimidating tone to his voice that you hate.

“Yeah… Me too.. Guess I was wrong. You have a nice night, Okay?” You smile and take your drink, turning to head back to your friends. Your ex is bummed out but leaves you alone, and Matt grins to you further.

“When you know you know.” He hums.

“Fiancé..” You echo. He shrugs gently.

“I like the sound of it.”

“Me too.” You say gently. “I love you.”

“I love you, Sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek. “So… A year in New York.”

“Yup. My list is all done.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I talk to you all the time, and I don’t apologize unless it’s necessary. I love teaching and my job. My apartment is stellar, and… I think it’s safe to say I am over my ex. I upgraded. In fact, my upgrade is so much hotter than anyone else I know.”

Matt leans in to kiss you, a grin on his face, but he mutters a soft, “That’s my girl,” Before he does.

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

organized fanfic with links to chapters, for easier access (ongoing)

Summary:

You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case. Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that? What happens when you get involved in Fisk's business and Daredevil's lies against your will?

Clash in the Court

The Losing Team

Start Of Something Better... or Worse?

Shadows of the Past

Not Again

Strange Thoughts

Into the Ring

Union Allies

Bitter Company

Innocent Get What They Deserve

Mixing Business

Coffee Delusions

Crack in the Walls

Back when it all made Sense

Karma is a...

Breaking rules is fun (and dangerous)

The Big Call

Unexpected Encounter

Things are about to change

Old Friends, New Beginnings

Jealousy, Jealousy

In the Blood

Smoking Day

Time is a Fragile Thing

King's Right Hand

Chasing Wind in the Dead of Night

Deadly Dance

Chasing Wind in the Dead of Night, pt. 2

World on Fire

I don't want to be a part of this

Grasping the Straws

Better if you Do

Lawyers, Guns and Money, pt. 1

Lawyers, Guns and Money, pt. 2

Man-Eater

Interlude

bad idea, right?

Poisonous Affair

Nelson v Murdock

running away is all I know

Guilty Crimes

Field Day

my world was falling apart

The ones we left behind

not the best lawyer, but a goddamn good criminal

Daredevil

All 'thanks' to the Devil

this might've been just a dream, right?

Another night in Hell's Kitchen

of first dates and men

Bang

Dogs to a Gunfight

[sunflowersandsapphires]

If the Sun Starts Setting

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 7

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: Swearing, family drama, characters celebrating Christmas, mom with terminal illness, crying mentions

a/n: Sorry to post this so late everyone! I have had the WORST brain fog today. I hope you enjoy! As always, comments and reblogs fuel me!

After just one semester of law school, the drive between suburban Connecticut and the Columbia campus was one you were becoming well-acquainted with. It wasn’t unbearably long, nor flooded with traffic on a dark Sunday evening. Headlights of oncoming vehicles painted swatches of light against the navy sky, a semi-urban work of art unlike anything you’d enjoyed before. Usually, it was a sight you took the time to admire. However, this particular evening you were unable to focus on anything but the tinny voice bubbling out of your phone’s speaker. 

Gritting your teeth and rolling your eyes to the heavens, you cursed the universe for a moment, tuning out the man on the other end of the line while you did so.

The sharp call of your name across the speakers regained your attention. ”Are you listening to me?“

Your father's inflection was grating on the best days. After three weeks spent waiting on him and your two ungrateful siblings while they preached about the importance of family during the holidays, you were ready to scream with every word he spat at you. The two hour drive back to campus was supposed to be the growing light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, you'd spent the last third of it arguing with your father about healthcare charges.

”Yes, I'm listening.“ ‘Unlike some of us’, you thought to yourself. ”As I said, that charge was for her brief hospital stay over Thanksgiving. I've already paid it and it might take a week or two to reflect—“

”This is a debt collection notice, hun. That means they didn't receive the payment yet. Which means they'll be coming after me when your mom inevitably cannot pay.“

Contemplating banging your head against your steering wheel just to remove the memory of this conversation, a flash of movement across the parking lot caught your eye. Expression softening, you almost sobbed in relief when you caught the two beaming expressions of your friends waving from the exterior door. Unfortunately, your father wasn't quite done arguing with you.

”Dad, I understand you don't want to be on the hook for this—“ ‘Not like you would be anyway.’

”I most certainly do not.“ He interrupted. Once again ignoring his rambling, you snatched your backpack and exited your car, slamming the door with a bit more force than usual.

”Dad, just forget about it, ok? I'll deal with it, just—“

”Well, clearly you won't deal with it in a timely fashion, which is why I'm calling...“ ‘Was he trying to kill you? It sure felt like it.’

”Ok, well I just got back to school so I need to go now.“ You tried to nudge him into polite farewells as you practically sprinted across the pavement towards your friends. As expected, he didn't take kindly to being rushed off the phone.

”Of course you do,“ He laughed incredulously. ”You know, this is your mother's livelihood we are discussing. It wouldn't kill you to be a bit more compassionate.“ ‘You're one to talk asshole.’

”You're right. I'll try to work on that this semester,“ You remarked drily. ”Gonna go inside now. Bye.“

Not bothering to listen to the screaming that answered your callous goodbye, you hung up, breaking into a strained smile as you greeted your boys. ”Why hello there, strangers.“

As if he didn't just witness you walk literally and figuratively closer to a breakdown, Foggy squealed, nearly taking you to the pavement in a tackling hug. “Welcome back, bug!”

“Christ, Fog, you're gonna crush her.” Matt laughed, hearing you grunt as you fumbled to stay upright with Foggy coiled around you like a boa constrictor.

“I missed you too, Fog.” You murmured, tears welling in your eyes at the sensation of being embraced.

You had missed them. Deeply and almost pathetically. After an entire semester at each other's sides, the few weeks in your hometown for Christmas had felt like an eternity.

After Matt and Foggy had been struck with the campus flu, the rest of the semester passed in a whirlwind. The two clingy boys had unsurprisingly infected you, meaning you were unfortunately sick for Thanksgiving and had to remain on campus to avoid passing the virus on to your immunosuppressed mother. Matt had been incredibly apologetic, and plagued with his typical Catholic guilt, so he'd stayed with you while Foggy returned to Hell's Kitchen for Turkey Day.

The next few weeks were spent cramming for finals and, eventually, celebrating the end of your first semester at Columbia—which you had all, amazingly, passed. Leaving for the lengthier winter break had been an abrupt end to the joy you felt over your grades, however.

You returned to New Haven a day earlier than expected to sit in the local hospital's oncology ward with your mother. While you were ill over Thanksgiving, she'd had a recurrence of stage 3 pancreatic cancer, which meant more frequent trips to see her doctor as well as numerous bills that neither of you could afford. Because of her declining health, your father and siblings had come to Connecticut for Christmas. The extra company meant that your holidays–which were meant to be a time for recuperation following a strenuous first semester–had been frustrating to the point of tears. Which, embarrassingly enough, Matt had been burdened with when you called him to complain.

The two of you called multiple times a week, exchanging stories and annoyances just like you did when you were living within a few blocks from each other. But it didn't stop you from missing him and Foggy fiercely for 24 excruciating days.

Swallowing a lump of pent up emotion, you huffed out a shaky exhale, your breath clouding in the frigid winter air. “Ok, Fog. You know I love you, but it's cold as fuck out here.”

“Right! Sorry.” Foggy withdrew from the embrace, blushing furiously as he scratched at the back of his neck.

Immediately replacing Foggy in front of you, Matt took a chance to hug you quickly before pulling you inside. “Glad you're finally here, I thought Nelson here was going to combust.”

Letting Matt usher you inside, you heard Foggy's baffled scoff. “Do I look like a patient man to you, Murdock?”

Matt smirked, “How would I know?”

You and Foggy both groaned loudly, looking to each other for support as Matt cackled. “C'mon, you set that one up perfectly. What's a guy to do?”

“You should've heard him over break, bug. He was driving my poor mother towards a stroke, I swear.” Foggy shook his head in feigned irritation.

“Oh please, she loved me.” Matt shoved his roommate, nearly bowling the three of you down the staircase as you trudged toward their room.

“I bet she did.” You snorted, “You probably dialed the charm up to 11.”

“Try 15.” Foggy remarked, unlocking the door and shoving it open.

Ignoring the jab, Matt held out a hand for your bag, allowing you to slip out of your coat and shoes.

“Who were you on the phone with?” His question was meant to open the can of worms in a structured way, rather than answer his own burning question. He’d bet dollars to donuts that it was–

“My father.” Came your fatigued response, confirming his suspicions. Your words were tinged with a bitterness that he’d expected, but they held a deeper upset thinly veiled by your exhaustion.  

“Is everything ok?” Foggy asked quietly, his brow pinching with worry as he studied the bags under your eyes. The blond was less informed on the hell you’d been put through over the last month or so, only picking up bits and pieces if Matt relayed them.

With a groan, you collapsed unceremoniously onto Matt’s bed beside him, leaning heavily into him as one of his arms fell across your shoulders. “Of course, it’s just…it wasn’t the pleasant send off I was hoping for.”

Your pulse jumped when you spoke, steadying out as you reached the end of your sentence. Matt already knew that things weren’t “ok” with your mom or your home life in general, but he blinked in surprise to hear the disappointment that coated your words as you referenced your father’s curt goodbye. Making a note to bring that up when you seemed more inclined to be vulnerable, he rubbed a palm over your arm in a comforting gesture.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish it had been better.”

Huffing a tiny laugh, you let your head fall against his shoulder. “Me too. How were your holidays?”

“Pleasant.” Matt murmured at the same time Foggy clapped his hands together.

“Fantastic! I forced Matt to watch all of the Star Wars movies with me and we ate our weight in cookies.” The long-haired boy explained with genuine enthusiasm. As he began to recount the escapades from the annual Nelson holiday party, your eyes flicked upwards to look at Matt, whose arm was still moving slowly across your shoulder and back as he caressed your sleeve. His eyes were trained forward, but a muscle in his jaw twitched as you focused on him, so you had a sneaking suspicion that neither of you were listening to Foggy’s story. You’d forgotten how well he could read you, until he gave you the option to pretend everything was fine with your dad.

He knew it wasn’t, and you did too. And maybe shoving that shit deep down and pretending it didn’t exist wasn’t a healthy way of handling it, but if you met Foggy’s worried gaze right now it would make you cry, which you were not prepared for. So, whether it was a wonderful coincidence or Matt could truly read you like a picture book, you were thankful for his deflection.

Smiling softly, you looked back to Foggy, listening to him talk about his drunk aunts fawning over Matt and feeling the thick tension bleed out of your shoulders.

Eventually, Foggy took a deep breath, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Woah, head rush!”

Matt chuckled, “You didn’t even stand up, buddy. You ok over there?”

“Yah, I’m fine! Just excited!” Foggy waved a hand, unfazed.

“And I can’t wait to hear about everything, Fog. But maybe we should take a break for presents?”

“Presents?” Foggy’s eyes widened along with his grin, his behavior as animated as a child’s at the mention of gifts. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

You laughed, prying yourself out of Matt’s secure grip and opening your bag. Tossing two wrapped bundles across the room and onto Foggy’s bed, you set the other two in Matt’s lap.

“Merry Christmas, my lovely Musketeers!” You giggled as Foggy mime-fenced toward you. As soon as the blond was finished beating you in the imaginary sword fight, he eagerly tore into the glittery wrapping paper. Next to you, Matt looked much more apprehensive about the packages in his lap.

“Go on, Matty. Open them!” You encouraged, bumping his shoulder with your own.

“But we don’t have anything for you,” Matt’s lips curled into a pout, looking like a sulking kitten as he trailed a single finger along the crisp edge of the parcel nearest to his hand.

You rolled your eyes fondly. The poor kid had a strong enough sense of justice for the whole campus. ”Matty, we're in college. And I'm the only one with a job. I didn't expect you to get me anything.“

”But—“ Matt argued, but you cut him off with a laugh.

”No more buts! I got these presents for you because I wanted to, not because I thought I’d receive something in return. Please open them?“ Though he couldn't see your face, you batted your lashes and widened your eyes, hoping he could sense the pleading expression.

With a frown, he nodded once, carefully peeling the tape from the paper as if the task required surgical precision. Grinding his teeth as the paper crinkled raucously, he slid the first gift out of its casing carefully, as if he was expecting it to shock him if he moved too quickly. Withdrawing a lump of the softest material he'd ever felt, he ran a thumb over it, trying to decipher what it was. The strip of wool was composed of thick braided stitches, promising to retain warmth in even the most bitter winter weather.

”A scarf?“ He asked, his lips pursed into a small, surprised oval. A rosy blush dusted the tops of his cheeks.

”Yes! I made one for you and one for Foggy. Except yours is a deep red and his is orange.” You spoke softly, smiling over to where the longer-haired boy was wrapping the length of yarn around his neck triumphantly.

“Our favorite colors.” Matt murmured, his fingers still tracing the fuzzy stitching. “You remembered?“

”Of course I did, trouble. That's important information. I'd be a fool to let it slip through the cracks.“ You hoped the joke would make him laugh, but he continued to stare blankly at the scarf as if it was an animal that had just died in his arms. ”If you don't like it, I can take it back, and donate it or something–“

”No!“ Matt looked up, horrified, clutching the scarf to his chest. ”No, I love it. I just...“

Turning his face back to his lap, he licked his lips before continuing. ”I've never gotten something like this before. I don't know what to say, is all.“

”No need to say anything, bub. I'm glad you like it.“ You rubbed your palm over his arm, mirroring his actions from just a moment ago.

Still focused on his own gifts, Foggy's excited screech startled both you and Matt. ”NO WAY!“

Turning to you with a dropped jaw, Foggy shook his head. ”There is no way you got this.“

”What is it, buddy?“ Matt asked, his lips curled into a soft smile as he heard Foggy open a hardcover book eagerly.

”A first edition of The Fellowship of the Ring!“ Foggy was practically giddy, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he rifled through the pages. ”How did you even get this?“

Grinning at him, you giggled. ”My mom has a friend with an extensive book collection and asked where we could find one. Turns out, the friend had one of her own and was willing to part with it for next to nothing. Guess she owed my mom a favor.”

Diving across the room to crush you in another hug, Foggy kissed the top of your head. “Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!”

Laughing brightly, you struggled to shove your friend off of you. When he was this worked up, Foggy had the tenacity of an overexcited golden retriever. As usual, Matt helped release you from his clutches. ”You're welcome, Fog. I wanted to get you a nice copy since you lost the one you brought to school.”

“I'd say you accomplished that, my lovely jitterbug.” Foggy ruffled your hair, retreating to his bed and launching himself onto the mattress–the rusted springs creaking in protest.

Giggling at him, you turned back to Matt. “Alright, Murdock. Your turn, again. After this, I promise never to put you through this torture again. Until next year.”

Matt groaned in response, snatching the second gift with more vigor. “Let's get this over with.”

Approaching the gift with the same systematic tactic as the first, he slid the paper off of the box without a single tear. Setting the wrapping aside, he opened the cardboard package and pulled out his real gift.

“Ok so, I'm not sure how helpful these will be,” You warned, fidgeting with your hands as he ran his fingers along the band connecting the ear pieces. “But, they're, um, noise-canceling headphones?”

Matt's breath caught in his throat. He was overwhelmed with guilt and affection and surprise at the present, all words of gratitude pulled back down to his vocal chords as he focused solely on not bursting into tears.

Over the past few weeks, the Nelsons had been kind enough to invite him to stay and celebrate with them. He was flattered, and so thankful, but he wasn't used to so many...people. During a few of your phone calls over the break, he'd mentioned that the excessive stimuli, mainly noise, had been getting to him and giving him headaches. And rather than chastising him for being ungrateful, you'd listened and sympathized with him over the phone, ultimately buying him a solution to the issue with your own money.

Sure, there was no guarantee that these would work for his heightened senses, but you didn't know that. And the idea that you were willing to go to such immense lengths to ensure his comfort...it was evidence of a love he hadn't experienced in a decade.

“Are you ok? Did I do something wrong?” Your worried murmur broke his train of thought.

“No,” He choked out. ”No, they're perfect. So is the scarf. Thank you, bug.“

”Of course. Merry Christmas, Matt.“ You kissed his cheek gently and he felt a flush crawling up his neck. Wrapping an arm around you, he tucked you close to his chest, hand cradling the back of your neck.

”Merry Christmas, sweetheart.“

The two of you sat there in silence, holding each other close for a minute before your phone rang. Sighing deeply, you rested your head against Matt's shoulder as you fumbled for your phone. Thankfully, the screen displayed your mom's contact information, not your father.

“Sorry, trouble. I have to take this.“ You squeezed his arm, pulling out of his embrace and stretching as you stood. ”I'll be right back. Hopefully.“

Smiling at your near-groan, Matt jerked his chin towards the door. ”We'll be here.“

Slipping into the hallway, you lowered your voice. ”Hey mama, everything ok?“

”Hey baby, everything's fine, just had a couple questions for you about bills.“ Her sweet voice was strained and you could practically see her flicking her gaze to meet your father's, his metaphorical gun to her head as she made the call.

”Ok,“ You ground out, trying not to snap at her when she wasn't the reason you were frustrated. ”Um, what questions did you have?”

“You did pay the one from November?” She asked, predictably.

“I did. It'll reflect soon and Dad has nothing to worry about. The bill is attached to our names, not his. That's why Collections isn't writing to him.“ You explained as calmly as you could, knowing that she was aware of this already, but probably had you on speakerphone. ”Was that all?“

”Not exactly.“ Her tone shifted, pitching lower and sounding almost embarrassed. A crackle rippled over the line and suddenly your father's gruff voice replaced the one you adored.

“You need to come home next weekend to help your mom with the next round of billing. I've run out of time off and can no longer assist.” He commanded, the ‘compassion’ he held for her livelihood nowhere to be found.

‘Oh because you were so helpful this month when you were ordering us around.’  You griped internally. “What round of billing? The one from Thanksgiving–”

“Was four appointments ago. These things aren't free, you know. They’re wanting us to pay for them.”

Both you and your bank account were intimately familiar with the steep cost of her treatment. Inhaling deeply, you paced a few steps from Matt and Foggy's room. “I know they aren't free. We signed her up for a payment plan two weeks ago that offers a deferral–”

“She was denied.” His laconic answer made your spirits plummet as time came to a halt. Your pounding heart froze in place, dread creeping up your spine. 

“What?” On the off chance that he was being unintentionally misleading, you needed to clarify.

Your mother's apologetic voice came over the line once again. ”I wasn't accepted into the financial assistance program, baby. But, it's ok! I can pick up more shifts–“

”No!” You exclaimed, the shrill edge of your cry echoing down the hallway. You tried again, digging your nails into the flesh of your palm as you fought to keep your voice steady.

“Don't...you don't need to do that mama. I don't want you to overwork yourself. I'll come home on Friday and we can talk about options, ok?“ You bargained, running through your work schedule in your head to create a plan.

”Are you sure, honey? Won't you be busy getting a head start on the semester?“ 

Blinking back tears at her obvious care for you, you cleared your throat before answering. “It’s alright, mama. It’s just syllabus week, I’m sure I’ll have time to come home and sort things out.”

“She’ll make time.” Your father’s promise was more for your mom than you, but it felt like a swift kick to the gut all the same. 

Because you would make time. You had to. No one else would. You were your mom’s last line of defense. Prioritizing yourself and failing to be there for her wasn’t an option you had. The emotional burden you were carrying felt impossibly heavy, as if there was a line of anvils across your shoulders and chest, slowly forcing the oxygen out of your lungs until you perished. 

“Of course I will. I’ll see you this weekend, mama. Love you.” You choked out, slapping a palm over your mouth before you broke. 

“I love you too, baby. Have a good week at school!” You could picture her tired smile as she wished you a proper goodbye, the image cracking your composure. 

You hung up before the first tear rolled down your cheek. Dropping your face into your hands, you bit your lip to stifle a sob, letting the tears flow silently instead. Falling back against the wall behind you, you let your legs give out as you collapsed to the disgusting dorm hallway carpet. 

The blood rushing in your ears drowned out the noises drifting through the thin walls, an urge to scream churned in your chest. Ugly, rage filled sobs were barreling up your throat, desperately trying to claw their way out, to make your pain known. Hunching over your knees in a pitiful crouch, you shielded your face with your arms, preventing any passersby from seeing your much-needed meltdown. 

Choking out a breath around another half-smothered sob, you nearly screamed when a warm hand landed on your shoulder. Looking up frantically, the outburst downgraded to a strangled whine when you saw Matt’s furrowed brow directed at you. 

Wordlessly, he sank down beside you, opening his arms with a frown. Throwing yourself into his embrace, you couldn’t help the hideous sounds that escaped you as he enveloped you in his muscular arms with ease. Tucking your head under his chin, you shook violently against his chest as you bawled. 

“I can’t do this, Matt. I can’t–” You gasped out, your breath stuttering as you wept forcefully into his shoulder. 

Shushing you gently, he rubbed circles into your back with his large hand.

Whimpering at the touch, you wiped at your tear-streaked face furiously. “”I’m barely an adult. How am I supposed to do this?” Your voice shattered around the words, throat constricting with anguish.

“I don’t know,” Matt cooed, stroking a fresh pair of tears away from your skin with his thumbs. “But I’ve got you, sweetheart. We’ll get through it together.” 

Burying your face into his neck miserably, you shuddered with distaste. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You don’t have to ask.” He whispered gravely, pressing a kiss to your crown. 

With that promise, your brain seemed to shut off. Your tears gradually slowed to a halt, leaving you dazed and exhausted in Matt’s lap. Heaving out a shaky exhale, you closed your eyes, letting his soft touches wash over you like the tides. Kissing your forehead tenderly, Matt cupped your cheek. 

“Why don’t we go sit somewhere softer than this shitty floor, hmm?” His small question was meant to make you laugh, but your fatigue had chased away every other emotion. 

Nodding softly, you let Matt pull you from the ground and back into his room, welcoming the darkness after the harsh fluorescent lighting of the hallway. Sliding off his glasses and placing them on his nightstand, he guided you to Foggy’s bed. The blond frowned at you, setting his book aside. 

“You ok, bug?” He asked, sitting up to inspect your puffy eyes.

Shaking your head tiredly, you crawled onto his mattress and let him wrap you in a hug. Matt, with an impressive amount of agility, somehow leapt onto the bed behind you, snaking his arms around your middle so that you were sandwiched between him and his roommate. You listened to their steady breathing, letting the sound lull you into a more peaceful state of mind. 

Tangling his fingers with yours, Matt’s lips scratched over the back of your head. “Fog, think you could read some of your book for us?”

“Uh, yah totally.” Foggy pouted, gaze still lingering on your drained face. “Let me just find my page.”

The combination of your worn-out consciousness and the comforting presence of your two best friends was dangerous. Your eyes fluttered shut and you could feel yourself drifting off. 

As if reading your thoughts, Matt kissed your hair. “Go on, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

Squeezing his fingers, you stopped fighting the darkness pulling at the edges of your vision, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. 

Taglist: @eugene-emt-roe@abbyhaslongshorts @mrs-bellingham @abucketofweird @yeonalie @jadeunstablexx @spider-murdock @0ctober-writes @danzer8705 @mattmurdockstateofmind

Please tell me if these tags aren't working for you all because Tumblr has been acting up :/

[peterman-spideyparker]

Caught (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader, Foggy Nelson x friend!fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I've been feeling very unmotivated and uninspired the last month, which lead to no motivation to post and even less motivation to write. But, with my period making me very mood swing-y, I went down a rabbit hole of very personal emotions and wrote this. It's more of a Reader x Foggy Nelson fic, but, I like it. I hope you all enjoy! :)

Summary: When Foggy catches you and Matt in the office during the workday, it leads to you letting Foggy in on a well-kept secret.

Warnings: Smut (p in v unprotected sex, semi-public), one lil swear, angst (talk of infertility, heavy feelings attached to topics of infertility, negative self-image/low self-esteem) fluffy/hopeful ending

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, Marci Stahl (mentioned)

Word Count: 2,007

You press a kiss to Matt’s lips as he continues to rut into you, his large hands a firm and tender reminder for what you’re doing and why you’re doing it in his office. 

“Matt,” you breathe, your breath hitching at the end of his name.

“You’re doing so good, angel,” he murmurs into your neck, pressing a soft kiss on your pulse point. “Just a little more f’me, okay?”

You whimper and nod, leaning forward and kissing him again as you hold onto his shoulders for support. He keens into your touch, your foreheads resting together as his nose nuzzles against yours. 

“Matty, I’m gonna cum,” you moan softly.

“Good girl. Hold on a little more, sweetheart. Just a little—.”

“Hey, Matt—Oh for fuck’s sake!” Foggy says as he enters the office, immediately turning around and leaving. You practically fall off of the desk when he enters, Matt losing his grip on your body as well, slipping out of you as your impending orgasms slip from your grasps. You both call after him, but when you hear the door to the main lobby close, you both know he’s getting out of the building as fast as possible. 

“I gotta go after him,” Matt pants, fumbling around.

“No, I’ll do it,” you tell him, grabbing your panties and sliding them up your legs, giving Matt a quick kiss as you adjust the skirt of your dress and rush to follow Foggy. 

“Wait!” you call as you burst onto the sidewalk and catch his blond hair shining in the summer sun. “Foggy, wait!”

“(Y/N), you didn’t need to follow me. I’m flattered cuz it feels like I’m in a rom com, but totally unnecessary.”

“Foggy, please,” you ask softly.

“No, you don’t need to explain—you’re married. But in the office? There’s—.”

“Matt and I have been trying to get pregnant,” you explain.

Foggy demeanor immediately changes. “Oh my God, that’s fantastic! Go back up there! I’ll give you both another half hour.”

“I don’t know that ‘fantastic’ is the right word,” you breathe. “It’s not . . . We’ve been trying for two years and nothing has happened.” You watch as Foggy’s posture drops. “Can we sit and talk about this? Maybe at the park a few blocks over?”

Foggy nods, looping his arm in yours as you walk in silence until he finds an empty park bench. 

“What’s going on?” Foggy asks softly. 

“We didn’t expect to get pregnant right away,” you start. “I mean, I guess I might have expected it to take six months or a year. In all honesty, I half expected to get pregnant before Matt and I were married, but that’s beside the point. I mentioned to my doctor a bit back that Matt and I were trying and that it hadn’t happened . . . She suggested we both do some fertility tests. Matt’s results were fine, but mine . . .”

Foggy wraps his arm around your shoulders as you wipe away some tears. “(Y/N), I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“I know my worth isn’t tied to having kids,” you sniffle. “But I’ve wanted to be a mom so bad, Foggy. Especially since I met Matt. And then I see him with Sammy and I just know that he’d be such a wonderful father, even if he is scared by the idea of it. And it’s because of me that he’s not.”

“Matt . . . He’s never mentioned any of this. I mean, I wasn’t expecting him to, but, we’re like brothers. We tell each other everyth—.” He stops talking as if something clicks as he’s speaking. “I told him right away after Marci told me she was pregnant with Sammy.”

“I know. I was with him and he had the call on speaker. After he hung up, I got another negative pregnancy test. I think I cried harder than I ever had before that night.” Foggy deserves to know the whole story behind it, but you feel ashamed continuing. “I love you and Marci and your sweet little baby boy, but . . . You guys weren’t even trying and it happened by accident. You guys didn’t even know if you wanted to keep him when you found out, and I mean . . . People seem to get pregnant all the time, and I can’t. It’s like there’s something wrong with me.”

“(Y/N), it’s not your fault.”

“Everyone tells me that, and it’s getting harder and harder to believe. If it’s not my fault, then why haven’t I gotten pregnant?”

“It’s . . . Timing. It sounds lame, but it is. I was excited when I found out, but panic and fear outweighed everything. I didn't think Marci and I were ready. I told my mom, and she sat me down and looked me straight in the eye and said: ‘Franklin, you can handle this. Kids come into your life when you need them most, not because they’re planned.’ I was scared shitless beyond belief, but . . . My mom was right. It might not be great advice, but, none of it is your fault. It will happen. It’s like . . . It’s almost like my relationship with Marci. We couldn’t make it work on all of the other times we were together, and then one day, something just clicked for us. We were in the right spot for a good, healthy relationship. Of course I wanted it to all stick the first, second, fifth time we got back together, and it sucked that it took as long as it did, but, it finally happened. And I’m so grateful that it did.”

You turn into Foggy, not strong enough to keep the tears in. He instantly wraps you in a big hug, letting you cry into his shoulder. He doesn’t say a single thing, just letting you cry until you get it all out of your system.

“It’ll happen,” he reassures softly as you lean back and wipe away stray tears. 

“I just . . .” you start, but stop. 

“This is a safe space, (Y/N). If you want to, you can tell me.”

“I can’t shake the fact that Matt is only doing this for me. He’s told me he never thought of having kids, and when we first brought it up when we were dating, he didn’t sound too sure that he wanted them. But he knew I did. And I can’t shake the feeling that he is only sticking to this absurd diet and schedule and treatments for me, and that’s not what I want, you know? I love him, and it makes me feel so loved that he’s willing to do this, but . . . I can tell it’s taking a toll on him. H-He probably knows before I take the tests that I’m not pregnant, but he just keeps going along with it and pushing through the heartbreak because he knows that I want a baby.”

“Have you told him any of this?”

“No,” you admit. “I just don’t know how to tell him. And I’m afraid I’ll hurt him if I do.”

“You can’t carry that burden alone, (Y/N).”

“And Matt doesn’t need another burden.”

“You’re not a burden, (Y/N), and neither are your worries.” He places his hand over yours. “Matt would give you the breath from his lungs if it meant that you were happy and okay. And you know just as well as I do that no one can force Matt Murdock to do anything. He wants a family with you.” Foggy takes your face in his hands and wipes the tears off of your cheeks. “Do you know what he told me after your first date?” You just blink and look at him. “He told me that he just had a date with the most wonderful woman ever, and that one day, he’d marry you. A year later before he proposed to you, he spent forever imagining what your kids would be like. How many you would have, how many would be boys or girls, whose personality they’d be closer to . . . Someone who doesn’t want kids doesn't talk for three hours about what his future family would be like. He wants kids just as badly as you do. Knowing Matt, he’s bottling everything up because he knows how much harder it is on you to be going through this over and over. Neither of you are alone in this, okay?”

You nod, pulling Foggy in for another tight hug. 

“I love you both so much,” he breathes. “I’m so sorry about this. But whatever you need, I'm here for you.”

“Thank you, Foggy,” you breathe. “I love you, too.”

“Wanna go back? Or do you need a few more minutes?”

You let out a breath and straighten up. “We should probably go back. I don’t want Matt worrying. Well, anymore then he probably already is.”

Foggy nods before you both stand. He loops his arm in yours like he did earlier as you slowly walk back down a few blocks and up the stairs to the lobby of Nelson and Murdock. 

“Matt?” Foggy calls out. “Matt, we’re back.”

Matt walks out of his office, looking more put together than he did when you left him. You move from Foggy’s side, reaching your hands up to fix his hair. “There you go,” you hum. “All better.”

“Foggy, it’s not what—,” Matt starts, but Foggy puts up a hand to stop him before he starts speaking. 

“You don’t need to explain,” Foggy says softly. “(Y/N) filled me in on some things.”

“She . . . She did?”

“Yeah, she did. It’s okay. Whatever you need, I’m here for you guys.”

You can tell that behind his red glasses, Matt is misty eyed as he goes in to embrace his best friend in a tight hug. 

“How about you take the rest of the day off?” Foggy suggests. “I’ve got things here.”

“Fog—.”

“I mean it. Spend some time with your wife.” You give Foggy one more tight hug, and he gladly hugs you back with the same enthusiasm, kissing the crown of your head. “Now, go, you crazy kids!”

You and Matt laugh before Matt goes to grab his briefcase as you grab his cane and coat. As your husband makes his way back toward you, he gives Foggy one more final hug before slipping his hand into yours as you walk down to the street. 

“You told him?” he asks softly.

“I did,” you nod. “It . . . It shouldn’t be something we’re hiding from the people we love. I mean, I wish it wasn’t taking so long to happen, but . . . it shouldn’t be something we carry alone. We have good, supportive friends.”

“We sure do.” Matt leans over and kisses your temple. “Do you want to go back home? I can tell you’re still ovulating.”

“Maybe we grab lunch instead?” you say with a squeeze to his hand. “We don’t have to sit and eat out, but we could at least grab some takeout and talk at home?”

“Talk?”

“I can only imagine this is as hard on you as it is me. I want to know how we can make it a little easier on the both of us.”

“Our children—no matter when we have them, if we adopt—our children . . . you will be the best mother. And I am so fortunate that I’m your husband, and that you're my friend.”

You take his face in your hands, pulling him in for a long kiss, holding him close. “I have the things at home for lasagna. It was going to be dinner tonight, but, I could put it together for a late lunch?”

 “That sounds absolutely delicious.”

“I’m glad you think so,” you hum as you both start walking again. “And, you know, I’ll probably still be ovulating after we eat. Besides, wine makes everything so much more fun.”

You know Matt is grinning like a cheshire cat as he snakes his hand around your waist and moves to kiss your neck, his scruff making you giggle uncontrollably as you make your way into the lobby of your building.

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​

[skyfallslayer]

They're Gonna Taste My Venom

-The DD Trio x Symbiote!Teen!Reader-

Main Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three

🕷️Summary: Due to their expansion in their business, the trio decides to hire a helping hand to help string things along. The girl is… a little quirky, Karen admits, Or Foggy notices she’s a bottomless pit for snacks, Or that Matt can hear her talking to herself quietly sometimes. But it’s nothing they can’t handle– Oh, no! Now she just bit someone’s hand off, she’s speaking in a deeper tone, and she’s apologizing profusely as she hangs from the ceiling. She might be way out of their league after all.

🕷️Pairings: DD Trio x Platonic!Teen Reader; Karedevil; Foggy x Marci; Teen!Reader x Platonic!Venom

🕷️Rating: Teen-Mature

🕷️Word Count: 6,305

🕷️ Date: 2/21/24

🕷️Warnings: Implied Bad Homelife; Mention of Blood; Canon-Typical Violence; Interrogation; Kidnapping; (Underage) Drugging; Heavy Language; Heavy Dialogue; Mention of Cannibalism; Mention of Body Parts Being Torn Off; Mention of Eating Someone/Biting Off A Limb (Via: Symbiote). READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

🕷️ A/N: Hello, dear readers! Welcome to my three part series of an idea that I have no idea where it came from. Lol. Seriously, this strange AU just popped into my head and I was like- "Man, maybe I should make that my next fic?". And BAM! Here it is! Hopefully it's good as I imagine it would be. Enjoy!

These past twelve months have been… something else. The snap that lasted for five years messed up everything that the troublesome trio worked for, which was to rebrand their business: Nelson, Murdock & Page. But hey, I guess in a… morbid(?) sickly? depressed? way, it did work out in the end. Business was pretty much booming, especially now that everyone who blipped was trying to get their homes or anything else they own back under their names and care. Now, not to toot their own horns, but they say they’re pretty good at multitasking. 

Until…

They weren’t.

As they get busier with each passing day, the trio realizes that they’re stretching themselves so far thin that it’s starting to affect them. So after some intense conversations, they decided to hire a helping hand.

Y/N L/N. 

Their new assistant that was just shy of seventeen and on her way to graduating high school. She was nervous, of course, when they first met her, but the nerves soon settled and she turned out to be a very charming person that they all agree they loved to have in the office. She was extremely helpful and willing to learn, always on her toes when they needed something, always organized and had everything ready when they had a case or a client coming in. None of them could ask for a better person in the position. Even though the girl was… 

Well…

Kind of quirky.

Like she always prefers it cold, no matter what the temperature is. Karen notices she was barely wearing anything when they first met. It was in the middle of winter, and the girl was just wearing an oversize sweatshirt and a thin beanie. At first a bit of a motherly instinct took over and wondered if the poor girl just didn’t have anything to wear at home, or maybe couldn’t afford anything. Y/N eventually apologized and laughed saying that she just prefers this weather more than the heat. But despite that, Karen did gift her a warmer coat that the teen decided to wear (even if it felt forced).

.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that Miss Page.” Y/N said once she was handed over the nice coat. 

“Please, I insist. I know you said you like the cold, but I would rather not see you sick.” Karen said, as the girl smiles and nods, promising to wear it until Spring.

.

Then it was the food. Now, Franklin Percy “Foggy” Nelson loved to eat just like any other person out there. But if there was an eating competition to suddenly spawn inside his office he would surely lose to his assistant. The kid was… a freaking bottomless pit. Just as Karen had suspected Y/N might be on the poor side, Foggy thought the same when he brought take out for lunch and the kid nearly ate everything on the table. She did it in a mannerful way but still (He’s surprised she didn’t inhale the table). So out of worriedness he started bringing her lunch, and the one day he forgot, she brought her own “five course” meal of sandwiches and sides.

.

“Maybe… she’s just a growing kid.” Karen once said as he shook his head.

“Don’t girls go through puberty early? There’s no way Y/N’s still growing.” He boasted as the blonde tried another excuse that he shot down quickly. “Nope! Matt! Can’t you tell?”

“Foggy, Matt is not about to smell nor hear if the poor girl is going through puberty!”

“Karen, come on–”

“NO!!”

.

The conversation ended up being wrapped up and placed in the back of the shelf for now, but occasionally it’ll come up when the girl polishes off something huge by herself (And everytime Karen proceeds to hit Foggy over the head with her shoe as Matt tries not to laugh).

Then there was the human lie detector, Matt Murdock and his tales of Miss L/N. When he first met her of course he was a little on edge, I mean he was still learning to not leave his guard up all the time after promising Foggy and Karen he was going to do better and be trustworthy. The girl was nervous during the interview, but managed to win over their hearts about halfway through yet…

Matt couldn’t shake what his senses were picking up.

On her first day of work she seemed cool as a cucumber, nothing to worry about. However her heartbeat was… strange. It was pulsing like any other healthy human being, but there were times where it would randomly accelerate. Like she would just be stapling papers together and it would pick up speed like a racehorse. A few times he feared she was having a heart attack before it went away. 

The other thing he notices, and to follow Karen’s observation, the girl does tend to run rather hot. And when she does she would either shed off an extra layer or turn the tiny fan on her desk in the middle of a snow storm. 

.

Hmm, maybe she’s just a natural furnace. He told himself once, recalling that his father was someone who always seemed to stay warm (but even he wasn’t crazy enough to go outside half dressed in -10 degree weather).

.

Then lastly, he realizes the girl likes to talk to herself quietly. At first he thought maybe she had an earbud in and was talking to someone, or maybe she was mouthing the lyrics of a song but… no. Sometimes it’s even hard for him to pick up what she’s saying ‘cause she’s so quiet, but the couple times he does hear her it sounds like she’s scolding herself.

.

Matt tilts his head, slightly zoning out on the conversation him and his partners were having as Y/N was in their kitchenette. From the smell of it she was making herself coffee and muttering and even jerking at something or someone that wasn’t even there.

“Shut up, I’m not eating that– No I’m not– You’re not either.” He hears her eye roll and almost sighs. “You’re not going to die, stop being a baby– Don’t call me the baby, you numbnut– Hey, you fucking bastard, I’ll–”

And then he kind of tuned out when he noticed Foggy was asking him a question.

.

A million different scenarios went through his head of what it could be. One that he’s just sticking with right now is she’s just a very imaginary kid. The other lingering thoughts weren’t so innocent. Someone’s home life could affect certain things. Maybe it’s–

“So what shall we do to celebrate?” Foggy said out of the blue in the present day. The sun was out shining, the weather was cool and just right, everything was blooming peacefully just as Spring should be. The blond looked between the two perplexed adults before gasping. “Don’t tell me you all forgot?”

Karen glanced in Matt’s direction, lost as well. “Uh, remind us again?” She asked, sheepishly.

“Oh, come on guys! It’s our anniversary!” He throws his hands in the air. “This marks the full year of the grand reopening of Nelson, Murdock & Page!”

Matt’s eyebrows shot up above his glasses in surprise. “Is it April 24th already?”

“Yeah! A full year, baby! We fucking did it! We brought this extinct beast of a place back to life.” Foggy exclaims, making Karen laugh. “We need to celebrate.”

“And how so, Mr. Nelson?” The woman asked, curious to what he had to say.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out. Maybe a nice dinner and a club.”

“Aren’t we too old for clubbing?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Who says that?”

“Says the guy who pulled his hamstring running up the stairs.” Matt quips with a grin, as Karen hides another laugh in her hand. 

“Hey!” 

“Half-Joking.” Then he perks up. “Y/N is here.”

“Already?” Foggy looks at his watch. “She’s really early.”

“Do you think something’s wrong?” Karen asked, mother henning again. “Matt?”

“I’m not picking up on anything.” The blind lawyer replies, truthfully. “She’s coming. Relax.”

The teenager opens the door, her usual blouse and skirt with her backpack on her shoulder. She looked like she was in thought as she greets them with a smile. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Matt and Karen greet in unison as Foggy cracks the ice.

“Hey, Y/N/N. You’re early.” 

“Uh, yeah, sorry. My building’s power went off and I couldn’t cook anything so I just went to a diner. Guess I overestimated how much time I needed to eat.” She replies, her heart steady. “Is it okay if I start early?”

“That’s fine, there’s probably not much to do though.” Matt says, as she sets her stuff down on her desk.

“Whatever you got I’ll do.”

Foggy’s concern washes away and goes back to his bubbly self. “Are you free tonight, Y/N?”

“Um… yeah. Why?”

“Well, today marks our anniversary of getting this place up and running again and we want to celebrate with maybe dinner at least. Our treat.”

“Dinner?” The teenager looks concerned. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to tag along? I’m just your assistant.”

“Nah, don’t use that talk.” He waves her off. “You’ve helped us a lot these past few months. You’re one of us. Right, guys?”

“Of course she is.” Karen said, her red lips curling upwards. “We would be all over the place if you hadn’t helped organize when we got so overwhelmed.”

“And customers are always complimenting you on how wonderful you are with them.” Matt adds, making the teenager blush.

“Yeah, kiddo. You’re great.” Foggy says, throwing his arm around her with pride. “Keep this up for a few more months and… maybe we’ll add your name to the plaque.” 

She laughed. “Your business will officially be a mouthful to remember.”

“Hey, it was mouthful before Karen came in, we might as well keep rolling with it.” He shrugs. “So what do you say? Dinner at least?”

“I can do dinner.”

“Fantastic! Where shall we go?”

And that was pretty much the only thing they talked about for the rest of the day.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Are you sure this is the right address?” Foggy asked for the third time tonight as he hitched along for the ride. He was the person you called a… backseat driver (but he has every right to do so at this point).

“Yes, Foggy. I’m just following the directions on my phone.” Karen replies, slightly irritated, but also a little bit worried (like she’ll admit that to him just yet).

“‘Cause this is a really bad neighbourhood.”

“I know, Foggy.”

“Is it really that bad?” Matt asked, after listening to his surroundings. He didn’t really hear that much going on outside the vehicle.

“It’s… extremely sketchy.” Foggy says, with a sigh. “It’s like one of those places they tell you not to go after dark.”

“That bad?”

“Yeah, and we close pretty late. Do we really make Y/N walk through this?”

Matt’s eyebrows raise up, amusement on his face. “Sounds like someone’s going to be her chauffeur soon.”

“Don’t tempt me, Matthew. I’d consider. Or we all pitch in and buy her a car.”

“Sure she knows how to drive?”

“Or better question–” Karen cuts in while making another turn. “Maybe you should talk to her parents first about this concern before we start gifting our assistant with stuff? Maybe she’s not allowed to have a car? Or even to drive?”

“What seventeen year old isn’t allowed to drive?” Foggy asked, confused.

“I mean, I wasn’t allowed to drive at all until I was an adult.”

“What? Why?”

“Foggy I was what you called uh… ‘wild child’, I’m not exactly a saint you know.”

Foggy sighs and flicks his attention to the backseat. “Matt, would you have driven a car if you could?”

“Who says I haven’t?” The blind man replies with a grin that made Foggy not want to question it.

The blond man throws his hands up. “I give up. Naysayers, all of you.”

“What are we ‘naysaying’?” Karen asked, with a chuckle.

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Oh my god.” She shakes her head and parks the car along the curb. Just as she was about to snatch her phone off the dash, a report came up. She quickly reads over the headline and frowns. “Hey, did you hear about those people who disappeared a few days ago? Rumors saying they were special forces?”

“The ones that were going door to door down on 36th?” Matt asked, hearing about it on the news and even word about it at night. Even some criminals he ran into that night thought it was strange and found them suspicious. 

“Yeah, those. Apparently they just turned up. Parts of them.”

Foggy’s face scrunched up. “Ew.”

“Someone hacked them up?” Matt asked, worried about a possible new killer on the loose.

“The strange thing is, no. From what it says here it looks like their limbs were chewed off.”

Foggy made a gagging noise now. “Ugh. Great. Now we have a cannibal in the Kitchen. That’s just great–” He opens the car door. “More reasons to get Y/N a car.” His friends shake their heads and get out also.

“You know, you’ll make a great father one day.” Matt says, getting the middle finger.

The three of them buzzed themselves into the building, going up to the second floor to the third apartment in. It wasn’t as luxurious as the apartment Foggy shared with his fiancée, but it was definitely on the same level as Matt’s: -Not-in-the-safest-of-places-and-was-the-“cheapest”-on-the-block- They definitely felt wary of wearing their nice and expensive clothes out here.

Karen was the one who knocked and got a response.

“She’s alone.” Matt said afterwards, getting the woman to check her watch.

“I guess her parents work the nightshift?” Foggy said, slightly worried. They didn’t get the chance to talk about it when the door swings open. The teenager opens up a nice, simple purple dress paired with a blue jean jacket and flats.

She smiles. “Hope you found the place okay.” She replies, greeting them and locking their door behind her. “Seriously, you guys didn’t have to drive to get me.”

“Oh, we don’t mind.” Karen says, honestly.

“Are we still planning on dinner?”

“Of course. You hungry?” Matt asked, making her laugh out of embarrassment.

“Heck yeah, I am.” She said, making them giggle.

“Well then, after you, Ladies.” He gestures for them to go first.

“Oh, such a gentleman.” Karen replies, starting the trek off, smiling and pulling their assistant along for the ride.  

They started chit chatting about the place they were going to go, Foggy boasting about how good the food was the last time he went (Now frank that was pre-blipped, so fingers crossed it’s still as good as back then). As they started descending down the stairs, Matt’s cane unfortunately got caught into a hole that was forming in the wood and was falling forward. To his surprise, Y/N was the one to react extremely quickly and place her hand on his chest to stop his fall.

“Shit, you okay?” She said, as he regained his balance from her strength.

“Uh, I’m…” And then he trails off when he catches a whiff, the smell of dried blood just beneath her fingertips. The chilling part of this was that it was NOT her blood. He swallows, and forces a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for the catch.”

She frowns apologetically. “I’m sorry, I probably should have warned you about the stairs. They’ve been falling apart for a while. If you stay to the left you’ll miss most of them.”

“Noted.” And then they continued again with Matt being careful…

.

.

.

And it was not just about the stairs.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Sure I can eat anything?” Y/N asked, as she scanned the menu over again.

“Of course, our treat.” Karen reassures for the hundredth time.

“I know it’s your treat, and I appreciate it. But–” She flips the menu towards them. “Have you seen the dollar signs for this place?”

“Well, I can’t exactly ‘see’ anything.” Matt replies, feeling his assistant give him ‘the look’. He hoped he sounded sarcastic and not rude (he was trying to push away what he smelled earlier and enjoy the night (And not be a paranoid freak again).

“Mr. Murdock–”

“Matt, kiddo.” Foggy says, lightly tapping her shoulder. “How many times did we tell you you can drop the formalities? It’s been months.”

Y/N blushes. “Sorry, habit.” She replies, only to mumble something under her breath two seconds later that everyone kind of ignored. “I’ll shut up and figure out what to eat.”

“That’s the spirit.”

The group eventually ordered their food and soon slipped into a nice conversation. Between some fun exchanges between the law trio or funny memories from their childhoods, it eventually led to laughter.

“I never realized how big your family was, Foggy.” Y/N said, intrigued by the chaos of the Nelson family.

“And I swear it just keeps growing. It’s a little baseball team at this point.” He replies, smiling.

“Does anyone else have a sibling?”

“I had a brother, but he’s passed.” Karen explains, with a sad smile.

“Only child.” Matt replies, with a head tilt.

“What about you, Y/N? Any siblings?”

She shakes her head. “Just myself. I kind of wish I had a sibling though. It does get lonely at home sometimes.”

“Well… it’s not too late to ask your parents for one.” Foggy jokes, half heartedly; It causes Matt to nearly spit out his drink, Karen scolding him and Y/N chuckling behind her hand. “Don’t kill me! It’s just a joke.”

“Franklin Nelson.” Karen warns like she was his nagging mother, and kicks his shin.

“Ouch, Karen, geez.”

Y/N smiles, amused. “I don’t mind, really.”

“But still, most people I meet here want more than one kid. I’m actually surprised you’re an only child, Y/N.” Matt said, being honest, which suddenly got her heart rate to pick up, but not in the racehorse kind of way he had been hearing. The teenager had stayed quiet for a moment before she shrugged, trying to shake it, or them, off.

“My mom’s not really in the picture anymore, not for a long time actually. I just really have my dad, but he’s always working. So, to be honest, I’m on my own. I don’t think he even realizes I have a job.” She replies, taking the last sip of her drink while avoiding eye contact. She could feel the concerned stares on her making her feel uncomfortable.

“Y/N, that’s not right.” Karen said, worriedly.

“It’s… fine. I’m used to it, you know?”

“Just because you’re fine with it, doesn’t mean it is.” Foggy replies, brows pushed together, distress wrinkles forming. “You know, if something’s up or wrong, you can tell us anything. We’re here for you, you know?”

“Not everything though…” She said, frowning (Her heartbeat picking up again, which was enough for Matt to start questioning what she actually means).

Just before anything else could be said, the waiter came over to drop off their refills and took the empty appetizer plate away. “Your food will be out shortly.” He said, and they thanked him.

“Man, I’m starving. The wait better be worth it.” Foggy said, after a second.

“I know, right? I know it’s been awhile, but I don’t remember it taking this long.” Karen admits, stirring the lemon around in her ice tea.

Y/N starts to take a sip of her new drink and pauses, like halted to an immediate stop. Matt picks the way her whole demeanor changes from nervousness to anger, and mutters, “It’s coke. It’s fine…”

What are you hiding, Y/N? Matt wonders as he takes a sip of his own beverage, worried out of his mind for what could be happening to her. What was happening at home that you didn’t even want to talk about it? 

But as soon as that red wine tickled down his throat he immediately knew something was wrong.

He couldn’t even taste it or smell it, but he knew there was something mixed inside that wasn’t supposed to be in there.

He immediately feels all his remaining senses start to go wack and before he could even say a word, Y/N beat him to it.

“Hey! We have to throw up!” She says, shooting up to her wobbly feet. “The drinks were–”

And then she proceeded to crash back into her chair, her face falling onto her dining mat. Karen calls out her name before passing out as well.

“Uh… M-Matt…?” Foggy calls out, struggling to stay awake. “W-what just…”

Matt hears him render unconscious as well and tries to fight it off the best he could, but he knew it was useless when his whole body started to grow numb, and he cussed under his breath from it.

.

.

.

And the last thing he sensed was their waiter standing over their table smiling like the cheshire cat.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

When the four of them came to, they all had splitting headaches that made it almost hard to even realize where they were. Tied to individual chairs and under some “interrogation” lighting in some strange, seemingly unknown, building.

“Ugh… where are we?” Karen asked, looking around with a slight squint.

“Warehouse district.” Matt replies, after a split second of analyzing. “I recognized the smell.”

Foggy clears his throat before whispering, “Uh, Matty, might not want to out yourself to our assistant here yet.”

The blind vigilante completely forgot that Y/N didn’t know his secret and held his tongue. Luckily, it seems like she was preoccupied with her worries, making some weird faces only two people present could see. Well… maybe a third now because some random ass man wearing what looks like tactical equipment (minus its helmet) comes in through a door.

Baldy (yeah we’re calling him that) looks disgusted and rather annoyed to even be here, as he stands before each of them before spewing, “Where is it?” 

Yeah, no ‘Hi’, ‘Hello’, or ‘Good Afternoon’, just straight to the fucking point that nobody even knows what it’s about. 

The adults looked at each other, going into overprotective mode.

“Who are you?” Matt asked, ready to start listening for clues (and silently try to get out of his restraints).

“Not any of your business.”

“Why are we here? Why did you need us?”

Baldy said nothing, instead directing his attention to the bound teenager. “Where is it?”

Y/N blinks, clearly confused. “Where is what?”

“The thing.”

Another blink. “What thing?”

His jaw clenches, irritated. “The thing you stole from us.”

She scoffs. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“For fuck’s sake–”

“What is going on?” Foggy cuts in, bitterly. 

“Who are you people?” Karen asked, same expression as his.

“The people who want our stuff back.” Baldy replies, shrilly too. “Our boss has been desperately looking for it ever since it went missing. We know she has it.”

“How do you know she took it?” Karen asked, maternal mode kicking in once more and ready to throw hands if necessary (I mean, did this guy even have any evidence?).

“Her school was required to go on a field trip to our company, and soon after, our… subject disappeared and we know one of those kids took it. Took us a while, but we finally tracked down who it was.” He jabs his finger at the girl. “You.”

“Y/N–” The blonde woman looks her way.

“Subject?” Matt asked, turning the interrogation around. He feels everyones’ gazes on him now as he tries analyzing the situation. “First you say ‘thing’ and now you say ‘subject’. Are you saying Y/N stole a person?”

“Matt–” Foggy warns under his breath, urging him to tread carefully.

“I wouldn’t call it a person.” Baldy said, feeling the blind man’s intense stare.

“Then what is it again?”

“Matt–” Karen tries now.

Baldy holds his tongue. “Listen, Blindly–”

“So what’s this ‘subject’ Y/N supposedly stole?” Matt pressured, feeling the man’s blood spike.

“You need–” He pulls his gun out. “To shut the fuck up.”

“Matt!/Hey!” Karen and Foggy yelled in unison, their racing hearts pouncing in their friend’s ears. But the Murdock stays as calm as he could be, tuning them out to focus on the gun on hand.

“I would hold that spicy tongue of yours, and let ME do the talking.” Baldy continues, getting silence as an answer. “Good. Now–” He redirects the barrel at the teenager. “Talk.”

Y/N’s eyes widened just as the adults started yelling again.

“Hey!” Matt snarled, thinking the gun was going to be trained on him the whole time. He tries giving the most intimidating look he could muster with his blind orbs showing. “Don’t fucking point that at her.”

“Yeah! You really gonna kill a kid?!” Foggy snaps, getting the man’s attention.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?!” Karen adds, making Baldy’s eye twitch at their comments.

“Listen, motherfuckers.” He snaps, a craze look on his face. “I will do whatever needs to be done. If that includes bathing my hands in red, then so be it.”

She shakes her head, furious. “You’re a sick, twisted, human being, you–”

“I’m sorry…” Y/N blurted out of the blue, suddenly looking really pale and distant. Her boss unknowingly hears her heart start picking up like a rabbit, and her blood pressure starts spiking (not to mention she was starting to run like a furnace).

Badly looks her way again and scoffs. “What? You scared?”

“Not of you, but for you.” She swallows. “You really might not want to point the gun at me, it’s upsetting him.”

He tilts his head, confused. “Upsetting who?”

“You need to leave.” She pleads, her (Y/E/C) eyes starting to change to an odd color.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Seriously, leave, please–”

He starts to sweat and presses the gun into her head more. “What are you fucking talking about?!”

“Leave! He’s–” Then her body stood stiff, and her fingers started to twitch, and then… her voice got super deep. “I’m pissed off.”

The trio widened their eyes at how scary and inhuman she sounded, which was enough for Baldy to start panicking, thinking of the worst. 

“Enough with the theatrics!!” He snapped, trying to regain control. “I’m–” 

And then nobody expected this next.

If you told anyone you were going to watch the girl get engulfed in black goo, and a monstrous face to form in her place then they wouldn’t just bat an eye and walk away because it sounded like insanity.

It became even more insane when the face suddenly bit the man’s forearm off clean and swallowed it whole, along with the hand pistol.

An ear piercing scream erupted from the back of his throat as blood pooled from his remaining limb. He stumbled backwards as the substance from her body disappeared, Y/N reacting with a look of horror on her own features.

“Oh, my god!!” She screamed. “Oh, my god! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!!”

“What the fuck!!!” He yelled back, baffled just like everyone else in the room.

“I’m so, so, so sorry!! I told him not to do it! He never listens!! I–” 

Then a black tentacle comes out of her skin and whips the man into a wall, causing another scream from her and even the trio. The adults could only just watch/listen to it unfold, no clue to what’s happening.

“Oh, my god– Fuck!!” Y/N says, shutting her eyes shut tightly like she was in pain. “I told you not to do that!! Why did you– Ah!!”

Her bosses watch as her body stiffens again, eyes glassing back over to purple before slowly fading to white. Then, the tentacles came back out to smash the chair she was in, bringing her to her knees. The goo was started to cover her form again, prompting her to ask the question,

“Venom… What are you– Saving your life. And theirs too.” 

Then the door bursts open again, this time with a crowd of other people dressed just like Baldy, except that had a little more artillery. Suddenly, the trio watches as Y/N jumped and dangled from the ceiling, the red lasers immediately pinpointing on her.

“FIRE!!” Someone shouted, and the bullets started flying.

Then their little assistant disappears again, replaced by the face with big white eyes and a wide mouth full of spike, and a tongue that was licking its lips with delight from the bullets ricocheting off of him. Karen screamed at the sound, and they all buried their faces into their shoulders for protection just as the beast let out its battle cry.

It started crawling faster towards the crowd, hunger in its face before it suddenly stopped halfway. The beast let out a huge sigh, muttering, “Fine.”

It then started grabbing whatever it could get a hold of and fling it towards them like a game of extreme darts. One by one they started to fall, one by one they were getting broken ribs and blacking out, one by one they were–

Then a flash grenade was suddenly underneath it and exploded.

The beast roared in pain from the sound, the goo vibrating and then dissolving at the snap of fingers, causing the teenager to resurface and fall to the floor. 

Matt definitely heard her ankle snap from the fall despite his own ears ringing, and called out her name. The girl cries out, and hugs her leg as she squeezes her eyes shut to block the tears from flowing. Just as the noise started to settle, it was about to become a whole lot worse. Just as the last remaining attacker was about to shoot the poor girl dead, with Karen and Foggy shouting their pleas, the vigilante managed to to unloosen the last knot from his wrist, springing to his feet and chucking the chair straight at him.

Matt lets out a breath he was holding before his instincts kicked in again. He quickly unties Foggy from his chair, saying, “Get Karen.”

“Right.”

He sprints over to the girl, getting down to her level. “Y/N?”

She lets out a groan, cracking open her eyes, slight shock upon seeing him. “M-Matt?”

“Hold still, I’ll pick you up.”

“H-How did you get out? Or throw a chair so accurately?”

Well shit. 

He really wasn’t thinking about his secret ID at that moment. Just the thought of making sure his assistant wasn’t going to die on his watch.

He bites his lip. “Y/N, I’m–” His gaze snaps towards the door where he could hear footsteps approaching. A lot of them. “Shit. There’s more. We have to–”

“I-I have to get you out.” She croaks, rolling herself to be on all four. “It’s my fault you’re involved in this.”

“Y/N, you broke your ankle, you can’t do anything else.”

“But…” She groans again and then slowly lobs her head in his direction, a smug tugged across her lips. “But I insist, Mr. Murdock.”

And before he could say a word, the beast reappeared and lifted him straight off his feet, along with Karen and Foggy who yelped in surprise. Suddenly they found themselves running at an incredible speed, prayers leaving their mouths just as they broke through a window and free falled down.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Not even sure where they ended up but it was completely unoccupied and covered by the shadows of the night. The beast had set the weathered adults down against the wall before doing the same; the body disappearing back to the teeanger who fell right on her bum. She lets out a shaky breath, closing her eyes like she did earlier, trying to hold the pain in.

“Oh, my god, Y/N, your ankle.” Karen manages to say once the shock ran out (And that was for a while).

Y/N smacks her lips, grinding her teeth, replying, “I-It’s fine. It’ll be fine in a minute. I advise not looking.”

“What do you mean?” Foggy asked, eating his words as he witnessed her ankle snapping right back into place causing him to gag and avert his gaze. “Oh, hell…”

“T-Told ya.” She mutters and then sighs. 

Silence fell over them, the trio all kind of looking at one another before deciding it was time to address the elephant in the room. Or whatever that thing was.

Foggy clears his throat, shifting his weight around. “So…”

“I’m sorry.” Y/N said, opening her eyes and looking at them with guilt. “I… I never wanted you guys to see that.”

“Well, I can see why.” He mumbles, getting a smack in the shoulder by Karen. “Ow!”

“So what is it?” Matt asked, straight to the point and curious, actually (and concerned too now that he’s realized this girl’s got no control over whatever it is). 

Another sigh as Y/N pushes herself to stand. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly that. I don’t know.” She crosses her arm uncomfortably. “I went on a mandatory field trip for school to this lab, and… some of my classmates begged me to go ‘behind the scenes’ with them. I honestly didn’t know what to expect, except that the only thing back there was this container with a tiny blob in it.” 

She frowns. “One thing led to another and it broke, but I had no idea that… this blob got absorbed into me.” She throws one of her hands up. “I honestly thought I was going crazy for several days when I could hear shit in my head, and when my appetite went through the roof. And then…”

“Then… what?” Matt said, sensing her discomfort.

“I got mugged. Well… attempted mugging until… Venom came out.”

“Venom?” Karen asked, eyebrow raised.

“That’s… what he calls himself. The thing you saw.” Y/N starts nervously playing with her hands. “Anyway, the mugger didn’t do much since– you know– uh…”

“Let me guess, he bit the guy’s arm off?” Foggy says, as she shrugs.

“More like… above the neck…” Then she gets the shocked stares again. “Okay, in my defense, I have no control over that. I didn’t even know that Venom attached himself to me. I…” She groans. “I just ran away after that! I didn’t know what to–” She then pauses like she is listening.. “You what? – You finished him off?”

Now it was her turn to have her pupils blown wide. “When? I don’t remember you doing that? – You did it when I was asleep?! – Oh, ho! That is not consensual whatsoever! We talked about this!” She scowls. “No, you quit complaining, you parasite!”

Y/N groans again, this time into her hands. “Ugh! He’s so annoying sometimes!”

“This is the strangest thing I think I’ve ever witnessed.” Foggy said, running a hand through his locks. “And aliens attacked New York.”

“Technically, Venom’s an alien.”

“Oh, my god.” He holds the sides of his head. “It’s ‘Invasion of The Body Snatchers’.”

“Foggy.” Karen tries to get him to calm down.

“So you just decided to live with this… Venom guy?” Matt asked, not really sure how to ‘perfectly’ respond to this situation. I mean for the many years he’s fought in Hell’s Kitchen, he’s never experienced something like this before.

“It’s kind of hard to get rid of him. He’s… persistent, I’ll give you that.” Y/N replies, with a small smile. “If I’m being honest, it was around the time you guys accepted me for an interview. I was more worried about acing that than dealing with a vicious conscience.” Then it fades. “Homelife not exactly… easy, so I guess it was nice to have someone to talk to. In a crazy kind of way.” A sigh. “I had no idea that he was important.”

“Are you going to give him back now that you know?” Karen asked, worried at what might come if she doesn’t.

“That’s the thing, If I give him back, they know who I am, and you saw what happened tonight. They’ll kill me no matter what.”

“Like hell I’m going to let that happen to you.” Matt says, confidently as he places a gentle hand on her shoulder (he could hear her pulse spiking at what she had said). “We’re going to figure this out. Don’t you worry, Y/N.”

She shakes her head. “I-I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Then don’t ask me.”

“You almost got hurt because of me! I’m not letting you put your life on the line for me. I can figure this out on my own.”

“Y/N, I’m a lawyer, you should know by now I don’t take ‘no’ for an answer easily.” His lips tug upwards, trying to make the best reassuring look he could make. “I’m going to help you–”

“We’ll help you.” Karen corrected.

“Yeah. We’ll help you, don’t you worry.” Matt faces his old roommate. “How long’s Marci out of town for?”

“Uh, next week. Six days to be exact.” Foggy says, after quick thinking.

“Good. We don’t have to worry about her safety.” Matt goes quiet, using his senses to figure out where they are before they move. “Alright, let’s go to my place.” He gestures for everyone to follow, his friends were, but not his assistant who was perplexed.

“Wait.” She blurts out, stopping them. “Shouldn’t we try finding somewhere else? It might not be smart to go to your own home.”

“It’s fine. It’s where we need to be for our next step.”

“Next step?” She asks, watching him start walking away again. “Which is…?”

.

.

.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

(TBC)

Stay tune for the next parts! || Part Two || Part Three

-Taglist is Open-

@indestructeible @mirkwoodshewolf @aew-kun-age-regression

[amberlynnmurdock]

Blind Faith

Chapter 6: A Deal with the Devil

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt, Foggy, and Karen take you out to Josie's. Your night always ends with Daredevil.

Warnings for this chapter: very mild smut at the end, sorry to leave you guys hanging, LOL.

A/N: I love writing Foggy Nelson. That is all.

TAG LIST (please let me know if I missed you/you'd like to be tagged!): @starry-night-20 @sumsytee @queerqueenlynn

Chapter 5 here

credit to gif owner!

 Hell’s Kitchen

Nelson & Murdock was an interesting law firm to work at. There was no rhyme or reason to the things they did or the way they operated, but you adapted fairly quickly to the revolving door of clients and how to speak to them. For now, Karen had you complete intake forms with everyone who came in. Greet them, ask them why they’re here, things like that. You enjoyed it a lot. 

“Thank you so much, Ms. Cruz,” you squeezed the elderly woman’s arm. “I’ll get your case details in our system and set up a meeting with either Mr. Nelson or Mr. Murdock.”

The older woman smiled at you graciously. “Gracias, señorita.” 

You stood up from your chair and walked over to Karen who fervently typed away at her computer. 

“Okay, all ten of the clients waiting are now ready to be inputted into the system,” you told her, holding a stack of manila folders and a clipboard. Karen looked up from her desk surprised. 

“Really?! You are amazing!” Karen exclaimed. You blushed and smiled at her, appreciating her praise. “I’ll have to get you your own laptop so you can learn how the system works. Seriously, how did you get through all of them without any issues?” 

You shrugged, “good old speaking like a human. I was never good with a customer service voice. It’s all about the approach, you know?” 

“Yes!” Karen smiled. “I’m so happy you’re here. I know Foggy and Matt are, too.” 

You smiled in return. You believed her, that she and Foggy were happy you were here. Matt, on the other hand, was a little strange. You didn’t want to make any assumptions, and you tried to be understanding. But he was very quiet around you, and never really tried to make any conversation like Karen and Foggy did. You found yourself going to them for questions first before you ever had to ask Matt something, which rarely happened. He was intimidating. The most you ever got out of him was an “excuse me” or “good morning.” Never anything more, never anything less. 

While the other two were very bright and bubbly, Matt seemed to always be in his own world. He didn’t join in any conversations you had with them, and he never offered help as Foggy did. You didn’t mind; you were just worried it might have been you he didn’t like. Then again, he was blind, so you knew his world was very different from your own. You didn’t let it get to you, and you just accepted that he was more guarded than the others. 

Karen flipped through the pages of clients you had just interviewed. Her brows were furrowed—her mind was going a million miles a minute. 

“Looks like this pile will be handled by Matt and this one, Foggy. Looks like Matt’s the winner today,” she realized. “I’ll give these to Foggy and run it by him. You can talk to Matt about his cases.” 

“Oh, uh, you sure? I…,” you trailed off, unsure what it was you were trying to object to. Your gaze fell toward Matt’s office. He was at his desk, brows furrowed with focus as his fingers ran over braille. 

Karen looked at you knowingly. “I know Matt’s quiet, but trust me, it’s not you. He’s just a little bit more focused at work. Not that we’re all not focused, but his focus is a little different.” 

You nodded, “I understand. I’ll run these cases by him.” 

“Let me know if you need anything, alright?” 

I need a drink, you thought. “Okay.” 

You turned on your heel and held the manilla folders in your hands, bracing yourself. You took a deep breath and walked to Matt’s office door, and knocked on it gently. 

“Come in,” he called out. 

You slowly opened the door and walked inside, gently shutting it behind you. 

“It’s me, __,” you announced slightly awkwardly. Matt smiled a little, behind his dark red glasses. 

“I know,” he replied, “I can recognize voices.” 

“Oh,” you said, nodding your head. Damn it, he can’t see a nod. “I—well, Karen said I should run by these new clients with you. I don’t know what she meant by it, but she said you’re the winner today.” 

“Hmm,” Matt hummed. “Means most of the cases are intentional torts. Please, sit,” he said in a friendly tone. Slightly caught off guard by his kindness, you sat in the chair in front of his desk. This conversation is the most you’ve spoken with Matt ever since you started just a few weeks ago. A memory popped into your head. You had shared an awkward encounter with Matt as he was leaving work one day—you asked if he needed help closing up anything but he was in a rush, and barely replied to you as he rushed out the door. 

“So, the first person I spoke with, Anna Campbell, has a claim her neighbor is taking pictures of her in her house…uh…” you flipped through the pages and cleared your throat. “Negligent employer case…assault outside of a club that may have been intentional and not a random crime of opportunity…” You read through the rest of the clients you just spoke with and watched Matt carefully for any reaction. He sat like a statue, with his brows scrunched and lips slightly pressed together, as he listened to you. His hands were together, fingers interlocked. You continued to speak. 

“Ms. Marisol Cruz. She was such a sweet woman. I feel really bad for her. She’s in a terrible apartment complex, with a high criminal element, and the landlord won’t listen or do anything about it. There are kids in the place, and she’s worried about them,” you explained Ms. Cruz’s story in more detail to Matt, since you felt a little more compassionate to her. You probably weren’t supposed to, but you couldn’t help it. “Her landlord says he needs proof of the element, or he won’t do anything. And she’s a frail woman, and she can’t do anything.”  

Matt stayed quiet for a moment longer. 

“Thank you, __,” Matt said after a bit. You smiled. 

You placed the files on his desk. 

“Oh,” you said, startling yourself, “you probably need these translated to braille. I’ll transfer them with the printer.” 

Matt smiled and stood up from his desk. His hands rested on his waist. Maybe the reason why you were so intimidated by Matt was because of how handsome you found him. His dress shirt fit snugly on his body, and the rare moments you did catch his smile, made your heart flutter more than you’d like to admit. 

“I appreciate that,” he cooly said. 

“Okay well, I’ll get on that now.” You turned to exit his office, but he called your name rather softly. 

“Just—just a word of advice,” he began to say, “I know it may be easy to feel more compassionate for some cases more than others. That can be a good thing. But it can also be dangerous. Don’t take the work home with you, is what I’m trying to say.” 

You considered his words for a moment and nodded in understanding. 

“I won’t,” you replied, “I promise.” 

He smiled lightly before sitting back down again. You left his office.

⣿⣿⣿⣿

After a busy afternoon at Nelson & Murdock, you found yourself in the conference room, transferring all the files you had today into the system they used. You were focused as you input all the information, listening to music as you did. Suddenly, Foggy came into the room. 

“There she is, the superstar client coordinator!” Foggy announced with a clap. You pulled your headphone out of your ear and smiled at him. Foggy had a way of radiating warmth and vibrant energy—you loved working with him. “I heard you got through everyone pretty quickly.” 

“I did!” you said, “it was quite enjoyable. I like talking to people and listening to them.” 

“That’s good. Great! Well, I came in here because, it’s six o’clock, Friday night, and you’re still working,” Foggy analyzed, rubbing his chin. “Aren’t you crazy kids supposed to be getting in all sorts of trouble?” 

You laughed, and then Karen came into the room. 

“She’s not a crazy kid, Foggy,” she defended, “she’s a bright, intelligent young woman who is bound to do great things in life.” You smiled at Karen. 

“I know, I know. But seriously, you’re still working?!” 

You shrugged, “I’m waiting for the okay to go home! Besides, I don’t want to leave anything unfinished.”

“Well, you've been doing so well. We wanted to show our thanks in the only way we know how—Josie’s!” Foggy raised a finger in the air. 

“Josie’s?” You questioned.

“It's a dive bar in the Kitchen we like to go to,” Karen explained. “We’d love to take you out and celebrate. Of course, if you don’t already have plans.” 

The only plan you could think of involved a man in a black mask and your rooftop—but you didn’t say that. 

“I don’t have any plans, actually,” you answered, straightening up a bit. “I’d love to join you guys at Josie’s!” You leaped at the opportunity to get to know Karen and Foggy more. And—Matt just walked in. 

“I’m heading out,” Matt said, in his usual serious tone. You hated how your heartbeat picked up at the sight of him, with his cane in his hand and bag on his shoulder. Part of you was disappointed he wouldn’t join you at Josie’s. 

“Oh, come on, Matt,” Foggy sighed. “You owe us one! Last time, you promised next time. You’re coming out, buddy!” 

“Yeah, come on, we’re taking __ out!” Karen added. You pressed your lips together, awaiting his response. Matt sheepishly smiled. 

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed, after a short while. 

“Atta boy,” Foggy patted his back. You began to clean up your workspace as Foggy and Karen left the room. Matt lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame. You watched him carefully as you gathered your things. You went to the bathroom to fix your appearance. Your hair was still styled, more or less, when you curled it this morning. You straightened your button-down white shirt that was tucked into your black slacks. You sprayed on your marshmallow-scented perfume and decided this was as good as it was going to get. 

Exiting the bathroom, Matt still stood in the doorway but now Foggy and Karen joined him; they were waiting for you. 

“Ready,” you stated.

“Huzzah!” Foggy exclaimed. 

⣿⣿⣿⣿

Josie’s

Josie’s wasn’t too far from the office. You stayed walking with Karen while Foggy and Matt walked slightly ahead, Matt holding onto Foggy’s elbow as his cane tapped in front of him. When you saw the buzzing red light that read JOSIE’S in the window, it was obvious you reached the destination. 

“Before we enter, we must knight __ for this is her first time at Josie’s, which is a special event, indeed,” Foggy spoke in a British accent. Matt laughed, flashing the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on him. It made sense: if there was one person who could crack him open, it was Foggy Nelson. You had a feeling tonight you’d learn about their history. 

After Foggy “knighted” you, he opened the door and you were immediately met with an intense smell of smoke, old wood, and sweat. Pool cues clacked and barstools groaned from years of being sat on. Someone spilled a pitcher of beer on the floor. It was overwhelmingly hot and stuffy in here—you rolled up your sleeves. 

“Welcome to Josie’s,” Karen smiled cheerfully. “What do you drink?” 

“Hmm,” you thought for a moment. “I’ll try a martini. Three olives.” 

“I don't know about that,” Foggy said, “the olives part. I would hold the olives.” 

“Alrighty, a martini, hold the olives.” 

“And what kind of shots do we want?” 

“…tequila?” You suggested. Foggy groaned. 

“Let’s see if I still got it. Four shots of tequila, please!” 

Foggy and Karen lingered by the bar, getting an older woman’s attention, whom you assumed was Josie. She had brown and gray hair and a slightly suspicious look. You stood holding your bag, looking around the place. Matt was so quiet, you didn’t realize he was standing next to you. 

“Should we find a spot to sit while they order?” You suggested casually. Matt turned his head in your direction, nodding slightly. 

“Lead the way,” he said. You mirrored what Foggy did earlier when he offered his arm for Matt to hold. You gently touched Matt’s arm with your elbow. You couldn’t tell if he was startled, but he was quite hesitant. However, he did latch gently to your elbow as if you were a piece of paper, and you walked him over to a table in the middle of the bar, close to the wall. He reached his hands out for the table and felt for it as he placed his briefcase on the chair. You wrapped the strap of your bag on your chair and sat a seat away from him, intentionally. 

“I’m sure this isn’t what you’re used to,” Matt suddenly spoke, trying to initiate conversation. You looked at him amused. 

“What do you mean?” You smiled. 

“I—,” he stuttered a bit, “I just mean kids your age probably go out to fancier clubs than this.” 

“I’m not a kid,” you gently corrected. “I may be fresh out of college but I’m sure I’m not that much younger than you guys.” 

“Sorry,” he said. “You’re right.” 

“And you’d be surprised…I can enjoy a dive bar every now and then. I actually think I like them better than what my friends and I are used to. You can at least have conversations at places like this.” 

“Then, why don’t you go to them more often?” 

“Whatever the majority vote is. I never luck out.” 

Suddenly, Foggy came with a tray of drinks while Karen carried over the shots. Foggy lined the drinks and shots up and returned the tray. Karen found her seat next to Matt while Foggy sat next to you. 

“To Nelson and Murdock’s newest and brightest!” Foggy cheered. Everyone took their shots. You felt the tequila burn down your throat as you grimaced. It was like no other tequila you had before. And you’ve had plenty. 

“Yeah,” Foggy agreed when he saw your reaction, “Josie’s got the hard stuff.” 

“Is that even tequila? It tasted like straight-up poison,” you shook your head. “Let’s get another round.” 

Foggy laughed, “I may not be able to keep up, but I’m up for the challenge!” 

⣿⣿⣿⣿

For some reason, spending time with Karen, Foggy, and Matt felt like you were being officially christened into their work group—you were officially a part of Nelson & Murdock. You wanted to pace yourself since you were with your bosses, but Foggy insisted on more shots and drinks—something you found hard to say “no” to. 

You learned that Matt and Foggy met at law school. Columbia, no less. Your dream school. Foggy promised he’d write you a stellar letter of recommendation when the time came. Matt agreed as well, to your surprise. 

“Really?” You asked. “You guys would do that for me?” 

“Of course, Young Padawan,” Foggy said in a Yoda voice. You laughed. “In all seriousness though, you’d kill it at Columbia. Right, Matt?” 

“Right,” Matt agreed, almost immediately. You were thankful he couldn’t see your blush, and everyone else was too drunk to notice. 

As the night went on, Foggy and Karen got up to dance and then challenged other bar-goers to a round of pool. Matt sat in his corner, his hand wrapped around a cold beer. At this point in the night, you ditched your button-down shirt and only wore your undershirt.

Although he was quiet, his presence was anything but. It was like he had some sort of force field around him; the closer you sat next to him, the more prone you were to be sucked into it. You made no attempts to get yourself away. You pretended to be engaged in watching Foggy and Karen play pool, shouting whenever Foggy hit a striped ball. 

Part of you wanted to join them, but the other part wanted to stay next to Matt. Maybe tonight was the icebreaker you needed to figure out why he was so different around you compared to everyone else. 

“Would you like another beer? I’ll go get another round,” you offered. 

“Oh uh, yes, please.” 

When you came back from the bar, you placed the beer in front of Matt and sat in the chair next to him. You clinked your glass on his. 

“Cheers,” you said quietly. 

Matt offered a small smile. “Cheers,” he returned. 

You glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 9 o’clock already. If you were home, you’d probably be getting ready to see Mike. You worried about missing him tonight. At least, you kept the burner phone he gave you in your bag. He’s only a call away but for emergencies. Pushing the thought away, you tried to be more present. Karen hit a striped ball and high-fived Foggy. The two men they were playing looked slightly disappointed in how good your bosses were doing. More people had filtered into Josie’s and it only grew more stuffy. 

“Thank you for the time you’ve put in with us,” suddenly Matt spoke. “It doesn’t go unnoticed, as you can see. Especially with Karen. I know she’s really happy with you here.” 

“I’m just as grateful for the opportunity,” you shrugged, feeling a warmth spread in your chest at his comment. On second thought, maybe the tequila was finally catching up to you. 

“Did you have any other places you were looking at?” 

“A few, but no one got back to me. I suppose getting a job at a firm in the city is harder than it looks." 

“Even Foggy and I struggled for a bit. We had a job at Landman & Zack lined up, but we ended up going on our own way. You’ll end up just where you’re supposed to be,” Matt said in a bit of a reminiscent way. You softened at his words. 

“You and Foggy seem like you’ve been through a lot together,” you observed, “it wasn’t always easy, was it?” 

Matt paused for a moment, and tilted his head—something you noticed over the past few weeks working with him. As if he was really considering your words and thinking of a way to respond. 

“It wasn’t,” he agreed, after a little while, “but if the people stay with you through the tough times, you know it was worth it. Or, you find a reason to make it worth it—for them.” 

You hummed in response. 

Matt took a sip of his beer. He listened as you got up from your seat to join Karen and Foggy after they called for you. 

⣿⣿⣿⣿

It was strange for him to talk to you like this in a public setting—as Matt Murdock, your boss, and not as “Mike”, your savior, as you called him. When you left your seat, he heard something ruffle in your bag—the phone he’d given you for emergencies. Good. She keeps it on her. 

He’d been avoiding you at the office and he knew you picked up on it after a few days. It was for the better, he thought. The more distance he kept from you there, the less likely it would be you’d put two and two together—if you could. It was to be cautious and to make sure his secret stayed a secret. You stayed his secret. Perhaps it wasn’t fair, perhaps it was lying, perhaps that was all true. Even if Matt wanted to reveal who he really was to you, there’s no guessing how you’d react. To put it simply, Matt dug himself even deeper the day Karen said she’d hire you and he didn’t make any effort to convince her to not. 

And the more he saw you at night, the more he couldn’t stay away. God, you were all-consuming to him. He found his new altar and it was your lips. His prayer, your name. Whatever the affair was, his new religion. It was cliche to say, but it was true: it felt so right with you. So right, and perfect, and whenever something so good falls into Matt Murdock’s lap, he always finds a way to convince himself he’s undeserving of it. He wants to be with you. He wants to keep you. But things are just so chaotically fucked up now, now that you work with him and he has to lie to you every day like he doesn’t want to pin you against the wall in his office and kiss your entire body. 

Matt clenched his jaw uncomfortably, pushing the thought away. That’s another reason why he must avoid you; to avoid thinking like this at work. It was hard enough that you were there. 

Being with you during the day was interesting. You were so different professionally, so polite and smart. Thoughtful, he decided. Nothing like the girl he came to see at night, who didn’t hold back a bite and wasn’t afraid of confrontation. He liked that girl just as much as the version he got at the office, though. It was like he was with two different people—and then he thought that he was basically playing two different people with you, too. Except, he realizes his unfair advantage. 

At the office, you were subtle with your actions—careful and alert. How you went out of your way to make sure documents were translated to braille for him, how you took your time with each client in the waiting room…yes, of course, Matt listened to you when you were with them. He always did. And quite frankly, he was impressed with how you carried yourself. Putting his feelings aside for you, and what it was that you shared, he truly thought you were a good employee—a promising future attorney. 

But God, was it hard to pretend to not know what your lips felt like. How hard it is for him to pretend he couldn’t care less when really, you’re all he cares about these days. 

And here you were, coming by his side again, and he has to put on the facade all over again—another mask, he thought ironically, to pretend around you. For the first time ever, he felt a heavy weight press on his heart. No, this wasn’t fair to you at all. 

“Hey, Matt,” you called for him, and he decided he loved to hear you call him by his real name. Your voice was lighter than it was before, actually lighter than it has been at the office, whenever you spoke to him. Maybe a night like tonight at Josie’s needed to happen—so Matt could feel more comfortable around you as Matt. He felt a wall crumbling inside him.  

“Yeah?” He answered. 

“We’re going to take one more round of shots and then step outside for fresh air. Are you in?” 

Matt smiled. 

“Yeah. I’m in.”

⣿⣿⣿⣿

12 AM 

Foggy hailed a cab for you to get home. You managed to get inside your apartment to find it empty, with nothing but a half-filled bottle of tequila on the counter and red solo cups. Your friends went out again, but you didn’t care. You were on cloud nine after tonight, having the best time with your new co-workers, and feeling better that maybe the one you were afraid of really liked you after all. 

And then, you thought of him. Mike. 

Would he be up there? It didn’t hurt to try… 

Before you stumbled up the steps to the roof, you changed into something a little more comfortable. Sweat shorts and a tank top. 

Now that summer was in full effect, nights remained humid. Your tank top stuck to the sweat on your skin. What were the chances of him actually coming tonight? 

Apparently, very likely. As you turned the corner, you jumped to see him already waiting for you, dressed in his usual black outfit—face covered. 

“Jesus,” You exclaimed and held your hand to your heart. 

“Language,” Mike said smugly as he stepped into the light. You smiled. 

“Don’t get all righteous on me now,” you teased, “I believe you are way past that.” 

Mike snaked a strong arm around your waist and pulled you into him. He kissed you softly and slowly—different from the way he normally kisses you, which was more ravenous in nature. You matched his nature, and placed your hands on either side of his face, holding him steady as you kissed. 

When you pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. 

“You’re quiet again,” you breathed. “Why?” 

“You make me feel calm,” he told you. The way his lips moved when he spoke was mesmerizing, inviting you to kiss him again. You did. You teased your tongue on his bottom lip. Mike groaned faintly. 

“Calm isn’t something I’m used to,” Mike continued, chasing your lips with a kiss. “And when I feel something I’m not used to, but that I like, those things tend to slip from my grasp just as I got a good hold on them.” 

You contemplated his words for a moment and realized what he meant. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you truthfully said. “I…like what we have.” 

“But,” Mike guided, knowing you had more to say. 

“But… most people in affairs know who exactly they’re dealing with.” 

Mike turned his masked face away from you. You knew that was the only answer you’d get. 

“Not yet,” he spoke quietly, “I can’t reveal myself yet.” 

“But why? You think I’ll think you’re ugly?” You laughed, trying to lighten the mood, but you realized you even failed yourself. The more you got in deeper with Mike, the more it hurt, knowing this was all you’d get out of him: late nights on your rooftop, kisses you’d never experienced with anyone else—feelings you didn’t know you could feel so intensely that it felt like your mind suffocated with thoughts of him. Him. You didn’t even know who he was. But he had you in the palm of his hand. 

“Do you want to stop? With this, with me?” He asked ardently. 

“What kind of question is that? No, I don’t want to stop seeing you,” you argued. “Do you want to stop?” 

“No,” he replied almost instantly. “But we should reach an agreement on this. You have to be okay with me not being ready to reveal myself. And you have to know that my not revealing myself has nothing to do with how I feel about you and how much I trust you.” 

“How do you feel about me?” You couldn’t help but ask him. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. 

“Like I’ve never felt for anyone before,” Mike whispered and kissed you, deeply, slowly again. “Just give me the time I need.” 

“Okay,” you agreed. “You’ve got a deal. As long as you keep coming to me.” 

“I’ll never stop,” Mike promised. 

You ran your hands along his strong torso. You could feel the sweat under his shirt. You slid your hands under his shirt and felt his skin—soft, and… scarred. You gasped as your fingers traced along a gash, that’s since healed. You felt another one on his rib cage and another on his chest. You gasped again. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s from another life.” 

“That’s… scary,” you said in a small voice. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he told you gently. “It’s different these days.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I expected to see you one night and you didn’t come…”

“I’ll always come to you,” Mike stated. “Until there comes a day you don’t want me to.” 

“That day will never come, I can assure you that.” 

He kissed you more and ran his fingers through your hair, tugging a little so your neck was revealed to him. You shivered as he kissed along your neck, slowly, antagonizing. You ran your fingers along his back and closed your eyes. 

You didn’t want your nights to be anything but this. 

You lifted your left leg and he grabbed it to wrap around his waist, holding your back to steady you. He gently laid you on the ground. 

“Can I…take this off?” He asked, gesturing to your shorts. You laughed. 

“Will someone see us?” 

“No one will see us. They might hear you though.” 

“Take them off.” 

Mike slowly pulled your shorts and underwear off, and you were completely exposed to him in a dark corner of your roof. You wished you brought a blanket. Mike began to kiss your inner thighs, slowly, reaching closer up to your legs and your wetness. You let your mind drift off, thinking of the deal you’d just made with him. You weren’t completely truthful about being okay with not knowing who he is. But your connection and feelings for him were stronger than your fears of what could happen—you’d teach yourself to be okay with it. 

But your discomfort was quickly replaced with euphoria when you felt his lips kiss your sex, and his tongue began to lap at your wetness slowly and then urgently. You sighed blissfully, closing your eyes. You suddenly couldn’t care less about your worries. 

[brokebonewritings]

Sinking Waters

Matt Murdock x reader

Tags/Warnings: 18+, language, mentions of alcohol/drugs, fluff, light angst

Summary: Matt and Foggy invite you out for a night. You wondered if Matt would ever make a move on you or if you would keep being mistook as a couple. Song: The Pink Phantom by Gorillaz

Word Count: 2K

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Your dorm room had filled with a haze as you blew the white smoke from your mouth. The blunt you held between your fingers had only been lit a few minutes, and it seemed like half of it was already smoked. 

This was the only nice thing about not having to share a dorm with anyone. You could sneak things like this in with no one snitching. Occasionally the kid from your Civil Procedures class would come smoke with you, along with his roommate.

His roommate. Matt Murdock. He was definitely a looker. Oh and Foggy was cool. Franklin Nelson. They both were definitely a dynamic duo. You all had become fast friends, finding lots of things in common.

A knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts. You dropped the blunt in the ashtray and went to open the door.

“Who is it?” You ask, hand on the doorknob.

“Housekeeping.” 

You laugh as you open your door, Matt and Foggy stand there with the dumbest grins plastered on their faces. Foggy had his arm wrapped around Matt’s shoulder while the other man gripped his cane. 

“Why do I feel like you guys are coming to kidnap me.” You say as you give Foggy the side eye.

“We were wondering if you wanted to come to a bar with us?” Foggy says casually.

“A bar?” You stared at them blankly. “Like for drinking?”

“I sure hope so.” Matt says lightly.

“Sure, let me finish my blunt and grab my coat real quick.” You say moving aside. They happily walk into your dorm room.

Matt sits at the empty desk chair while Foggy sits on the bed. You walk back over to the window and pick up the blunt and take a long inhale. The smoke no longer affected your lungs as you let it all out.

The three of you joke as you finish, and put on your winter coat. Within 20 minutes, you all are walking off the Columbia campus and into the busy streets of Harlem. It was a much different dynamic

You let Foggy and Matt the way to this mystery bar. They were both pretty trustworthy of a fun time. However some of the places you’ve trusted them with were absolute dives. This looked like one of those places. 

“Josies?” You mutter.

“Don’t like how it looks?” Matt’s voice responds questionly.

“Murdock, what did Foggy tell you this place looked like?”

“I told him it’s the sistine chapel, let's get moving people.” Foggy said before Matt could respond.

Opening the door, all three of you step in one by one. It was definitely a dive, but it was charming. You and Matt found a table and waited for Foggy to bring over the drinks.

“How many times have you actually been here, Matty.”

As he folded his cane up, he replied. “A few times, I think the owner likes Foggy.”

You turn your head towards the bar to see Foggy pseudo flirting with the waitress. He had a charm to him, and she definitely found it funny. Giggling, you turn back to Matt who was also chuckling.

“Okay but I gotta know, how did you even find this place?”

“Foggy stumbled upon it, and then forced me to come.” He starts. “It isn’t the sistine chapel, is it?”

Snorting in amusement, you shake your head. “It’s definitely not, but it’s not a bad place either.”

Three glasses were slammed on the table in front of you. Looking up you see Foggy looking triumphant.

“Lady and Gent. I have brought the gift of free alcohol, won by yours truly.” He announced.

“No way, how?” You ask

“Like I said, the owner likes Foggy.” Matt replied.

“Ha ha, you’re just jealous that the bartender actually thinks my jokes are funny.”

“Sure, man, let’s go with that.” 

You hand Matt his glass before taking your own. The golden liquid looked refreshing in the chilled glass. Okay so maybe it wasn’t a dive, but still. You take a long drink before setting the glass back on the table.

Before you knew it, you all had gone through a few drinks. Foggy gets up once more to retrieve more drinks which meant more time alone with Matt. Weren’t you so lucky tonight. Or not.

“Hello, handsome.”

You and Matt look up from your conversation to see a girl standing in front of the table.

“Can I help you?” Matt responds.

“Well I was just wondering what such a good looking man like you was doing here.” 

You stared at the girl before turning back to Matt. His jaw was slightly slack, like he didn't know how to respond. Which didn't happen often.

“My friends and I were just having some drinks. You know, enjoying each other's company?” He states. She turns to look at you before looking back at him.

“Oh sorry I thought you were single.” The girl nervously said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

You side eye Matt trying to gauge his reaction, but he looked stunned. He cleared his throat before responding.

“Oh no, we’re not together.” He starts and this makes your heart drop just a bit. Of course you weren’t together, you had only known each other a few months. Why were you getting your hopes up then?

“In that case, maybe I could get your number?” She says, smiling and twirling her hair.

Looking around to avoid listening to anymore of the conversation, you see Foggy coming back towards the table. He looks confused as to why you’re staring at him, until he sees the girl.

Finally reaching the table, he greets you and Matt again and sets your drinks down in front of you. The girl finally satisfied with her winnings leaves before Foggy could introduce himself.

“I think I need to use the bathroom.” You said as your heart beat loudly against your chest. Getting up, you walk to the back hallway in search of the bathroom. Of course once you entered you weren’t surprised by the state of it.

Two stalls and a makeout session. Classic. You enter the empty stall and lock it. Waiting. For what exactly, you had no idea. Time to pass, maybe.

After five minutes, you exit the stall after pretending to flush the toilet. Lo and behold, Matt’s new plaything was standing at the sink. Stalking over to wash your hands, you feel her eyes burning holes in your skull.

“It’s a little sad that he can’t see huh?”

You freeze. Was she talking to you? Dingus. Of course she was talking to you.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah I mean like, he’s cute, but like if he can’t see then what’s the point?”

“Why did you ask for his number then?”

There was a pause. Your voice was filled with something other than curiosity. You continue.

“Maybe the point is that he’s funny, smart, and considerate?”

“Uhm right. Anyways…” 

Apparently she deemed the conversation to be over as she turns and exits. You stand silently for a moment, taking in the full conversation. It was the first time you had defended Matt’s honor. 

Finally you make your way out of the bathroom. Looking around to remember where you all sat, you notice Matt staring in your direction. Or rather his head was turned that way.

You caught yourself staring, even after his head turned away. Did he know you were coming back? Another crazy thought. You make your way back to the table and find three shots of fireball waiting for you.

“What’s the catch?” You say as you arrive.

“Hey! Welcome back!” Matt said slightly slurred. 

“Oh my god, Foggy, what’s wrong with him?”

“I think Fireball is his kryptonite, dude.” He replied with a laugh.

“Yeah I’ll drink to that.” You say before slamming each shot back.

Never before had you seen him drunk. Not even tipsy. How in the world did he manage to get like this? After a few more drinks, both you and Foggy cut the other man off. Deciding it was finally time to get back to campus.

The walk to get Matt back to the dorm was long and silent. It was the first time you had seen him get as drunk as he was, but you and Foggy had no qualms of taking care of your friend.

Once you had finally gotten him in bed and settled, Foggy had asked to walk you back to your own dorm. You agreed and said you would wait outside.

Waiting along the long concrete wall you pull out your pack of cigarettes and light one. The night had been eventful to say the least. Your crush always seemed to pick other people. Not that you have actually tried to make advances.

You turn your head to see Foggy step out into the cold. Throwing your cigarette on the ground, you turn to face him as he walks up.

“I get the feeling that girl ruined your night.” He states bluntly.

“Why does this always happen? Every single time we’re in public, he gets hit on!” 

“Why does it matter?”

There was a long pause. Foggy gasps before grabbing your shoulders and shaking you.

“You like him!”

“Foggy, stop!”  You grab his wrists. “It doesn’t matter because he’ll never like me back!”

“Oh common, you don’t know that!”

“No it’s true! I’m too timid to even ask him on a date.”

You both stood quietly. He was processing what to say, and you were waiting for his response.

“Then, maybe, I don’t know.” 

“Nice, Fog. Really insightful there.”

“Okay, look. Yes, the guy is attractive but maybe just be his friend?” He starts. “He has enough women swooning over him.”

Nodding, you understood what he was saying. He continued to speak.

“Maybe things will evolve if you just be his friend. That’s how a lot of relationships work out anyways.”

He was right. Lots of relationships sprouted from friendships. It would be a way to get to know each other.

“You’re right. Sorry I snapped at you.” You say.

“It’s alright, I know I can be a lot sometimes.” 

“Not at all, You’re very charming and any girl would be lucky to date you.”

“You’re too kind. Now, let's get you home.”

With that he offered his arm out to you and you gladly took it. You realize that you’ve finally found some friends who cared about you. Nothing like people back home.

New York had some strange characters. Nasty one, yeah, but also some that are fun to be around. Just like Foggy, and just like Matt.

Halfway back to your dorm room, you look up at Foggy. He was going on about how one of his professors had the hots for him. You giggle, and lean into his shoulder. Feeling him tense up a bit, you look back up.

“You okay?” You ask.

He nods at you and looks up towards the sky.

“You know, Aristotle said ‘Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.’”

“Since when did you pay attention in Philosophy?” 

“I’ll have you know that just because my eyes are closed, it doesn't mean that I’m not listening.” He chuckles. “Anyways, the point is it’s clear that you and Matt were made for each other. You just gotta wait.”

“That might have been the most comforting thing you’ve ever said.” You smirk. “But thanks. You’re a great friend, Fog.”

“And you know how you thank great friends?” He says stopping in front of your building.

“How?”

“By offering them to come inside and smoke a joint.”

You begin to loudly laugh, and he joins you. Not caring about the passersby staring at you both. Nodding you invite him in and give him a little extra for later on. 

After he leaves, you sit alone in the dorm. It’s dimly lit by the small lamp you have and the lights from outside. Being with one of the guys you realize how comfortable you feel and less lonely. 

Foggy’s words linger in your mind, “You just gotta wait.”. It was easier said than done, but you listen. You wait. The whole semester. Through graduation. Years. Until…

join my taglist!

[kutpot]

Another doodle based on Nobody’s Secret To Tell by @emeraldstorms

[your-not-invisible-to-me]

Pages Toward Your Future (Matt Murdock x Reader)

A/N: *whispers* Guess who isn't dead? Long story short: this fic was supposed to be written for @pastafossa's birthday so many months ago. Since then, my laptop broke, and my apartment flooded twice. Alas, it is now here.

Happy late birthday pasta I adore you<3

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary:

When you wake up one morning sick, Matt makes sure you still get to celebrate your birthday. or The time you can't go to the bookstore, so Matt brings the bookstore to you.

Word Count: 1,684

Warnings for Chapter: None! :) just some birthday fluff

Read me on Ao3 as Aaron gets his shit together.

Matt knew something was wrong the moment he woke up that morning. On a normal day, you were always up before him, rushing around your shared apartment getting your things ready for your day as an elementary school teacher. Even on weekends you would be up early – spending your mornings grading and catching up on lesson plans so that you could spend the rest of the day with him. You always made your plans around the both of you to make sure you had time together, and he loved you even more for it every time.  

So, color him surprised when his alarm started going off at ten on a Saturday, and you were still asleep next to him.  

“Sweetheart?” he called out, softly. He ran his hand through the knots in your hair. Immediately he could feel the tenseness in your shoulders. You were stiff as a board. “Are you alright?”  

You let out a groan as you attempted to bury your head deeper into the pillows.  

“Head.” you said so softly that no one else would have been able to hear it if it had not been for his senses. He caught on immediately. Sometimes you would get massive migraines, so bad it would leave you incapable of anything.  

Usually, you would pop some Tylenol and force your way through them. Luckily, you would not have to do that today.  

Matt slowly slipped out of bed, making his way to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass of water as well as his “comically large bottle of pain meds” – your words, not his – and made his way back to the bedroom. He placed them on your nightstand.  

“I have some medicine for you, sweetheart. Can you take some for me?” asked Matt. He kept his words soft. If anyone knew the need for quiet on days of pain, it would be him.  

He felt you nod before feeling you sit up, grabbing the glass and swallowing the pills. He couldn’t help but chuckle as you fell right back into his chest.  

“I have to get some work done, but it should only take me a few hours. Try to get some sleep, alright?” He tucked you right back into bed and headed back towards the kitchen, ready to make his own breakfast and get some work done.  

As Matt opened the fridge, a slip of paper that had been stuck to it fell off, sliding across the floor. Confused, he went to go pick it up, wondering what it could have been.  

Of course .  

Your birthday was next weekend, and while he had his own plan for a celebration with you, he had forgotten your own tradition that you did for yourself every year.  

Your bookstore trip.  

Every year you would spend weeks compiling a list of books from your TBR list that you wanted. You rated them, scored them, and made a list of books you would buy yourself for your birthday. It was something your parents had started for you when you were a kid, a way to keep their wallets safe when all their kid wanted for their birthday was more books to read.  

It was important to you. He clearly hadn’t seen them before, but there were spreadsheets involved.  

It was the one day of the year that he knew you allowed yourself to splurge on you.  

It was also what you had planned to do for the day – hence the list on the fridge.  

He also knew that with how busy you were, you weren’t going to get another free day for a while.  

Suddenly, he knew his plans were changing for the day. He dug his phone out of his pocket.  

“Foggy? Yeah, change of plans. I need your help today.”  

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You know, when you said we needed to make a quick shopping trip, this isn’t exactly what I thought you meant.”  

Matt and Foggy stood inside Barnes and Noble, having taken the train down to Union Square so they could shop at the biggest one. Currently Foggy’s hands were full as he balanced a stack of books under his chin. Matt, on the other hand, was making his way down the list as best he could.  

“We’re almost done, Fogs, I promise.”  

“You said that an hour ago.”  

“Well, that was before I found out they had a lot of the books in brail.” When Matt had originally given one of the workers your detailed list of books, they had assumed it was for him, leading him over to the small brail section that the store had. While he had since corrected them, he wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to be able to read some of your books along with you, or even be able to read to you.  

Since the image came to his mind, he had never wanted anything more. Reading was your thing, you devoured books so quickly, always excited about getting into the storylines and into the characters. While he was always happy to listen as you went on and on, the idea that he could read along with you and be able to know more about what exactly was going through your mind just brought him pure joy.  

Then there was the idea that he could be the one to read to you. It wasn’t something you had ever voiced before – hell it wasn’t something he had ever thought of before, usually it was other people reading to him – he knew he wanted to be able to give you this too. On days just like today when your head hurt too much to open your eyes, on days where your work was too stressful, where life was too stressful – he wanted to have a chance to give you something like peace.  

It was in conveying all this to Foggy, however, that his friend’s silence suddenly had him second guessing himself.  

“What is it, Fogs?”  

“Nothing.”  

“Not nothing, your being weird.”  

“I’m not being weird. You’re being weird.”  

“Foggy-.”  

“Really, Matt. It’s nothing bad. It’s just, I’ve never seen you like this before is all.”  

“Like what?”  

“Hopeful.”  

Matt paused, stunned a bit by his best friends' words. Maybe he was putting too much weight on a couple dozen books, but a bigger part of him knew Foggy was right.  

The scenes he was seeing in his head of times together with you reading were scenes of a future, your future together. With him.  

Maybe he had more thinking to do about what lied ahead. More planning. Books were okay for now, but he wanted more, and he wanted that badly.  

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t until a week later that you learned what exactly Matt had done. He had decided to save the actual surprise for your real birthday, wanting to add it to your list of presents.  

He had everything prepared when you woke up, excited for your reaction as you slid open the bedroom door.  

“Matt?” you asked, the clunk of the door echoing behind you. You looked around the living room, your mind filled with confusion.  

In front of you, scattered across the living room, were stacks of books in different places. There was a stack on the coffee table, a few across the kitchen counter, and more filled across the room.  

Right in the center of the apartment, there was Matt, a nervous smile spread across his beautiful face. 

“What’s going on, Matty?” you asked.  

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” said Matt, softly. He took steps toward you, bringing you to a spot in front of one of the books. It was then you realized that the stacks of books were arranged in a sort of line, clumped together waiting for someone to follow the path.  

“What’s all this?”  

“Well, I know you weren’t feeling well last week.” You nodded. “Well, I also know that because of that, you missed your day out to the bookstore.”  

You thought back to the previous week, remembering the details. You had almost forgotten your original plans for the day, yourself, too distracted by the pounding in your brain. When you woke up hours later, all you could be was annoyed at the idea of having to reschedule.  

Matt must have noticed your contemplation, as he continued.  

“I know you were upset at missing it, so I thought I would just bring the bookstore to you.”  

You let out a gasp, looking around the room at the specific books that were laid out. It was only then that you noticed the titles of the books, recognizing them off the list that you had spent just a detailed amount of time creating.  

All the books you had chosen, and all of them Matt had bought for you to read.  

“Oh, Matt...”  

Matt wrung his hands nervously. A myriad of thoughts went through his head. What if he had made a mistake? What if this was something you had wanted to save for yourself? What if he had picked the wrong books, made the wrong choices? 

“Is this, is it alright?”  

Even with his senses, he couldn’t predict the speed at which you threw yourself against his body, engrossing him in a hug. He felt the breath you took. He felt the drop of tears against his shoulder.  

“It’s absolutely perfect, Matt.”  

He felt you telling the truth.  

Later, after Matt had led you around the apartment on your own little book spree, after the birthday breakfast he made was eaten and wishes were given, Matt couldn’t express how happy he felt as you curled up against him with one of the new books he had gotten you. You had wanted to read some passages to him, and he was more than happy to listen.  

He couldn’t help, however, thinking about the new plan he was forming. The stack of his copies of the books, hidden in his trunk. Soon, he thought. Soon the night would come when he’d make you dinner, where he would spend time getting to read to you, and he’d ask you the question about your future and hope you would want forever.  

[bunisher]

might be the aro in me but i think one of the reasons i don’t ship mattfoggy is because i enjoy the idea of platonic intimacy and friendship without romance. i enjoy them as best friends, because their friendship is not any less than romantic love or needs to be. especially for characters like them, i think it’s important that they have friendships that are not inherently romantic. matt, because he has severe abandonment trauma and avoidant attachment, where all of his romances have ended in some form of tragedy. he has trouble feeling comfortable with people, he feels like he has to perform in many aspects, and does not with foggy, at least not anymore. trust is a hard earned thing with him, but it’s not just about trusting with being a hero, but trusting to be himself. in regards to foggy, because he also has his own issues regarding family and not feeling accepted. he needs that friend who provides the motivation, validation, and feeling of being good enough just for being him. his insecurities often come from being underestimated, being awkward, not fitting in, and with matt he can just be. they’re able to have a relationship with each other that has rupture and repair, knowing eventually after time it’s them against conflict and not them against each other. they set the standard for each other in how romantic relationships are. they provide that safe place for love that doesn’t have the weight of being someone’s everything or partner. they’re already partners! they’re best friends. i personally am a little in love with all of my friends, and i am utterly devoted to them. i will be affectionate and supportive and loving and i am not dating them. so yeah i see how stuff could be read romantic, i understand why people enjoy the ship, i get it, i do. but it’s more powerful to me when it’s not. romance is not the end all be all and that’s why i am obsessed with their friendship without it being this stepping stone for romance or there being no other explanation.

[courtforshort15]

A Matter of Opinion

Pairing: Matt Murdock x femReader

Word Count: 2,800

Summary: A tale of disagreements, egging each other on, and a general disregard of the other’s opinion.

Trigger warning: So much fluff it might as well be cotton candy

Masterlist

“So what you’re saying is…you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

From across the room, Foggy snorts.

The gloating smirk falls from Matt’s face, quickly replaced by a look of confusion. “What? That’s not at all–”

“That’s what you literally just said to my face.”

Matt scoffs, waving his hand in dismissive action. “I definitely didn’t say anything of the sort.”

“You told me you don’t trust my opinion, Matt,” you say with narrowed eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. You stare him down, knowing that while he can’t see it, he can certainly feel it. With a mild look of alarm crossing his face, Matt leans back on his left foot as if the force of your stare actually unsettles his balance. 

He clears his throat. “Well, not when it comes to–”

“Ah ah ah,” you cut him off before he finishes his sentence. He rolls his shoulders, standing up straight, files of case notes at his fingertips from where he stands next to the table. Matt tilts his head, still looking incredibly confused. It takes everything in you to not walk out of the room and leave him to sweat it out. “You either trust it or you don’t.”

“Come on, you know that’s not at all how I meant it.”

“How are we jumping from not trusting you to not wanting to be with you?” he asks as his face shifts to one that’s a mix of incredulity and slight anxiety, voice growing steadily louder. He takes a small step forward, frowning when you take a step backwards.

“And if you don’t trust my opinion, then how can you trust me?”

“So you admit that you don’t trust me.”

“I didn’t say-”

“And if you don’t trust me, then why would you want to be with me?”

Matt groans and tosses his head back in a gesture of God help me. “Sweetheart–”

“Foggy,” you call to the other man in the room, not bothering to shift your head in his direction, eyes still locked on Matt’s tense form in front of you as you ignore the pet name. “Did you or did you not just hear Matthew say he doesn’t trust my opinion?”

Foggy snorts again, the sound of rustling paper sliding throughout the office as he picks up his folder. He doesn’t bother looking up as he shakes his head in amusement. “Nope. Not getting in the middle of this.”

“Come on, Foggy,” Matt says, his tone bordering on exasperation. “You gonna let her tear me down this like this?”

“Not getting in the middle of it,” Foggy repeats with a wide grin that suggests he’s enjoying watching Matt be put on the spot. Foggy moves into your field of vision as he noisily slaps a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “I love you, but she scares me. I’m playing Switzerland on this one.”

“I’ll get in the middle of it,” Karen cheerfully chirps from the conference room table as she picks up her own laptop and begins gathering her stuff to take back to her office. “I’m siding with your girlfriend on this one, Matt. You threw yourself under your own damn bus when you told her that you had better taste than her.”

Matt groans loudly as you send a bright smile her way, catching her wink and flashing one of your own. “Thanks, Karen. Your tab is on me tonight.”

“I did not say that,” Matt says as he runs an agitated hand through his dark hair. You bite your bottom lip in amusement, always secretly pleased at the way you’re able to rile him up, well aware that he’ll get you back at some point this evening. “You all know that I–”

You interrupt him with a smirk. “You said, and I quote, “Why would we go to that awful pizza place she likes when I have a much better option for us? You know I have a better sense of taste.””

One masculine and one feminine set of laughter match each other from the other side of the table, further fueled by the pained look on Matt’s face as his words are shot back at him. Karen and Foggy are helpless to stop the giggles at their friend’s misfortune. He flounders for a second as he flushes, and you briefly consider taking it easy on him.

“I didn’t mean it to sound that way,” Matt tells you, his tongue sliding out as he ran it over his lips, the telltale sign of anxiety. “I just thought that we should go to the restaurant off of 37th. I’ve walked by it quite a bit since it opened and it smells amazing. So much better than–”

All sympathy for the devil leeches out of you with a snap. “I dare you to finish that statement.”

“I’ve been to where she’s talking about, Matt,” Karen pipes back in. She finishes picking her stuff up from the table, curled blond hair sliding over her shoulders as she flashes a smile your way. “It’s pretty good.”

“No offense, Karen,” Matt says with a shake of his head, red lenses glinting from the office light, “but you’re not from New York, so you don’t know what good pizza is.”

Karen raises a perfectly arched eyebrow and you can’t help the cackle of glee that escapes your lips as Matt digs himself further into a hole. “You really want to go there, Matt? I think you’re sadly lacking in allies right now.”

“You chose her side, Karen. We’re not allies right now anyway.”

“Maybe not,” she says with a happy shrug of her shoulders, lips splitting her pretty face open in laughter. Her blue eyes glint in a sense of amusement that barely hides her sharp ability to tear a man down a few pegs. It’s one of your favorite things about her. She crosses the room with her laptop tucked in one arm, folders in the other hand. “But it doesn’t mean we’re enemies. Just take back what you said about her opinion on pizza places sucking.”

“She’s from Chicago!” Matt growls in frustration. “Of course it does.”

You throw your head back with a loud laugh, enjoying the look of your flustered boyfriend, finding the conversation too funny to even be offended. “New York doesn’t own the market on good pizza, Matthew. Why can’t you just–”

“There’s just something about Chicago pizza that isn’t right,” he cuts you off with a look that suggests aggravation. He shakes his head emphatically, hands on his hips. “The ingredients are wrong, the spices and sauces just don’t match together all that well. It’s a travesty.”

“You act like you know all there is to know about food and what things go together and what don’t.”

“I do!” Matt cries out as he suddenly throws his hands in the air. “I literally do. And even without my senses I’d know that nothing beats New York pizza.”

“So arrogant,” Karen quips. “Can’t bring yourself to admit that others simply have different tastes than you.”

“Karen, you eat your pizza with ranch. You really have no room to talk.”

“Pizza with ranch isn’t bad,” you throw in, sending Karen a wink as you shrug your shoulders in a display of casual nonchalance. “I’ve been known to enjoy it a time or two.”

Matt turns to the other man in the room, one hand gesturing towards his friend in frustration of being all but ganged up on. You can’t help but snort at the motion that seems entirely too desperate for the situation. “Foggy, back me up here.”

Foggy laughs loudly. It’s the kind of laugh that offers no pity or effort to console, just a laugh that tells the room that Matt is on his own. “No can do, my dear friend. I am an equal opportunist when it comes to pizza. A pizza connoisseur, if you will.”

“You all are crazy.”

“Says the man who only eats ice cream if it’s plain vanilla,” you say as you raise your eyebrows, watching the man. His mouth drops in a sharp sense of betrayal, as if you were giving away a private secret that no one else in the room is privy to, though you know both Foggy and Karen are completely aware of his extremely picky eating. 

“I eat sorbets, too,” he says defensively, hands back on his hips. From behind red lenses, you see his eyes narrow.

“Sorbet is not ice cream.”

Matt tilts his chin up. “It is a sweet and tasty treat that you put in a freezer and later eat with a spoon. It counts.”

“Ice cream is dairy based. Sorbet is fruit based. Big difference.”

“I’d hardly–”

“You’re so lucky you’re pretty, Matt,” you coo suddenly, taking a few steps in his direction and reaching up to touch his heated cheeks with the back of your fingers. “You had a late night last night, didn’t come to bed until three. I can tell you’re tired and not thinking straight. Maybe we should go home instead of going to dinner so my beautiful Matty can take a nap.”

“Isn’t this a form of gaslighting?” Foggy whispers to Karen in the background.

Matt gently pushes you away with a growl of annoyance even as his lips twist up in the beginning form of a smirk. “I’m fine. It’s not my fault your pizza sucks.”

“That’s super rude of you, Matthew. I hope you’re prepared to sleep on the couch tonight.”

The smirk falls. “Sweetheart–”

“You two fight like an old married couple,” Foggy interjects from the other side of the room, finally on his way out of the conference space, mouth tilted in a grin that doesn’t bother hiding her extreme amusement. “Just propose already.”

You flush, eyes wide as you give Foggy and Karen a look that’s both panicked and pointed. “We haven’t even talked about marriage yet–”

“Shut up, Foggy,” Matt hisses as you’re talking, a severe frown aimed at his friend. “You know the ring is still being sized, so I’m not–”

Your mouth clamps shut as his words hit you, effectively cutting off the rest of your response to Foggy and Karen, and Matt immediately freezes when he realizes what he’s said. The energy in the room abruptly shifts, silence sharply cutting through the laughter and teasing argument. You don’t turn to him just yet, instead letting your round eyes take in the hand that Karen had slapped over her mouth and the pale face of Foggy who clearly hadn’t expected Matt to respond the way he did. Between Karen’s shocked face and Foggy’s look of guilt, it’s enough to cause you to swallow sharply, goosebumps lighting up and down your skin.

Matt clears his throat softly, and out of the corner of your eye, you notice how tense his form has gone, his white dress shirt straining slightly at his shoulders as he holds himself stiffly. “Can you—can you give us some privacy?”

Foggy and Karen leave with jerky nods of their heads and exit the conference room without a word, though they both take multiple glances back. When they’re gone, you finally manage to turn your face back towards Matt’s, taking in the flushed skin and eyes that have suddenly lost their glasses. He doesn’t speak, though he opens his mouth and closes it a few times as if he has something to say but doesn’t know how to say it. 

The silence is almost nerve-wracking, so you put an end to it.

“So…” you trail off, raising your eyebrows as you study him fondly, eyeing the way his hand twitches at his side, glasses held in a tight grip. “There’s a ring?”

Matt nods his head slowly, tongue poking out to run slighty over his bottom lip. His eyes flutter closed for a quick moment before he takes a deep breath and snaps them back open.  “Yes. There’s a ring.”

A wide smile blooms across your face, and you’re unable to reign in the joy that pulses through you. “Is there…a specific question that’ll go with that ring?” you ask as your hand reaches out to finger one of the buttons on his collared shirt, your tone teasing. The action is instinctive, one you often use to catch Matt’s attention and encourage to step forward closer, and it receives the same response as always. Matt’s lips shift into a soft smile, the one he so often gives you in these quieter, more intimate moments, and all at once, the nerves fall away.

“Of course there’s a question,” he responds with a brief nod of his head, the apprehension in his eyes shifting to something warm in his blank gaze. “Is there an answer that you might have?”

You tilt your head in consideration and pretend to ponder the question. Matt’s eyes blindly trail over your face, a barely noticeable hitch in his breath betraying a mind that, despite the small grin lighting up his face, is on edge in anticipation.  “Yes.”

Matt raises an eyebrow at your one-word answer. “Yes, as in there’s an answer? Or yes, as in…you’re saying yes?”

“What do you think it is?”

He tosses his head back with a groan. “Sweetheart, don’t play with me. What are you–”

“Y–”

“If I might interrupt for just a moment,” Foggy’s voice calls out from his office, completely oblivious to the fact that he had just cut off your answer to Matt’s question, leaving the two of you standing close to each other with Matt growling in annoyance under his breath even as your lips curve into an amused smile. “As best man, I’d like to offer the suggestion that pizza not be served at your wedding. And–”

The conference room door is quickly slammed shut in a brief flash of long blond hair as Karen opens her mouth to yell at the other man. “Shut the hell up, Foggy, before I cut your tongue off and make you mime your opening argument to the jury.”

Foggy makes a startled choking noise of horror before he manages to squeak out, “yes, ma’am.”

When Matt’s satisfied there will be no more interruptions, his head turns back towards yours from where he had been glaring daggers in Foggy’s general direction. A small smile tilts the corner of his mouth up as his body relaxes, no doubt having heard your mouth open with a yes before Foggy rudely had cut off the full word.

“You were saying?” he asks as he steps further into you and presses the heat of his body into yours until all you can feel is warmth.

You send him a teasing grin before it changes abruptly into a false frown. “You know, I actually just lost my train of thought,” you say in mock sadness. “What were we–”

“Holy mother of God,” he mutters under his breath. “Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”

“If you’re referring to our pizza argument, you’ll recall that I never dissed New York pizza the way you dissed Chicago pizza. You’re the one who—”

“Shut up,” he huffs in barely restrained amusement, reaching out to settle his hands on your shoulders in a failed attempt to change the tone of the conversation. Eventually he just gives in, eyes lighting up as he shakes his head. “I’m trying to ask you to marry me.”

“Technically, you haven’t actually asked any–”

“Marry me.”

“Honey, that’s still not a question. That’s a demand.”

Matt’s hands pull your face to his, angling your head up so that he can press his lips to yours as swiftly as possible before pulling away just as quickly. “Will.” Another kiss. “You.” A nip to your bottom lip. “Marry.” An open mouthed kiss as you giggle against his lips. “Me?”

You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out, Matt’s matching grin the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen as he pulls away. It’s a question you don’t even have to consider the answer to, but that doesn’t mean you won’t tease him for it. “Of course I will, but–”

Dark eyes widen drastically. “There’s a but?”

“Hush, Matthew. You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

Matt gives you a frown that is far too exaggerated to be actually offended. “I can’t believe your answer to my marriage proposal was yes, but.”

You roll your eyes fondly as you reach out to tap his cheek in soothing matter that feels more like a teasing gesture. “Yes, I will marry you, but on one condition.”

He openly gapes for a second before he narrows his eyes in suspicion. “Name it.”

“We ditch these losers and have our own naked pizza party at home.”

“I am NOT a loser!”

“Yes you are, Foggy.”

The smile on Matt’s face is nothing short of blinding, even as the other two object in the background. “I happily agree to these terms, but from the place I suggested.”

“You’re prepared to die on that hill, aren’t you?”

He laughs, leaning down to rest his forehead on yours. “You gave your condition, I gave mine.”

“You drive a steep bargain, Counselor, but I accept.”

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

moon song - m. murdock

a/n: oh boy. uh. thanks for all the love on my last fic, so i decided to give you an incredibly angsty fic. this one is for all my male readers but honestly i want everyone to read it so. as always, reblogs, feedback and comments are always appreciated! warnings: internalized homophobia, cursing, infidelity, angst, hurt/no comfort, casual homophobia (teasing not anything insane) catholic guilt and symbolism, bisexual karen page, i'm not an elektra anti, making out, alcohol to cope, reader has a lot of coming out moments word count: 3.4k summary: you hate that elektra and matt are getting married. will you convince him not to go through with it? can you? pairing: matt murdock x male!reader now playing: moon song - phoebe bridgers "and if i could give you the moon/i would give you the moon/you are sick/ and you're married/and you might be dying/but you're holding me like water in your hands"

You’re in Josie’s when they realize. It’s like any other night, Foggy to your left, Karen to your right, as you watch Matt and Elektra play pool together. You take another swig of your whiskey, and tap your fingers on the glass, desperately attempting to try and listen to what Karen and Foggy were laughing about.

Two more weeks. That’s all you have to do.

In two weeks, Matt and Elektra will be married, and that’ll be that. They’ll live forever in their New York penthouse, fighting criminals and having beautiful children. That is their fate, and you’ll give your best man speech at their wedding.

All will be well, and you can bury your feelings deep down under alcohol and other women. No one will ever know what you really think of the happy couple.

You’re happy when Matt beats her at pool and they head back over to your table, where they absolutely hang over each other.

“We’re gonna head out.” Elektra says, a slightly drunken smile on her face. Matt hums and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Meeting with the florist tomorrow.” Matt tells you all.

“I’m going to grab another drink,” You announce, and look at them. “One for the road?” Matt smiles at you, and for a moment, you think he must know.

“I’ll come grab one with you.” He turns to Elektra to ask if she wants one, but she shakes her head.

“I have to finish this one.”

So, you and Matt head over to the bar, his hand on your arm. You wonder if he knows.

“You seem distracted,” he tells you, and you figure you’re caught.

“Just working on my best man speech. It’s all up here.” You tap your forehead. You order two shots for the pair of you and take them quickly with your best friend. “Getting excited?”

“Yeah, it’s just kind of crazy. I’m nervous, is all.. And she seems to be totally fine with the whole thing.”

You bite back a bitter comment about both of their commitment issues.

“I think she’s just as nervous as you are.”

“I can hear heartbeats. Trust me, she’s not.”

“But you’re in love with her, right?”

If you weren’t so drunk, maybe you would catch his moment of hesitation.

“Yeah.”

“Then what more do you need?”

“You’d marry someone just because you’re in love with her? That’s all you need?”

Not just someone. You know who you’d marry.

“That’s all I need, Matty. You think too much. Have another shot.” He laughs at this and pats your shoulder.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

“Says you, I’m a bachelor, still.”

“So am I—For the next two weeks.”

“And yet,” a voice says behind you, “You’re still accounted for.” Elektra says, approaching the pair of you at the bar.

You both turn to her. You’re drunk enough so you don’t tense.

She hands Matt his jacket, and they link arms. Jealousy fills your mouth, and it tastes like venom.

“Elektra.” You smile and nod to her.

She says your name before adding, “Have a goodnight.”

“Goodnight.. Get home safe, Matt.” You say, smiling at them as they leave.

You turn back to the bar, where your smile falters. You take a seat, resting your head in your hands. You’re not drunk. That’s not what this is. When you look up, Josie is there and hands you another whiskey on ice and sends you this knowing wink.

Your face burns, and you nurse your drink. What did she know about your life? You only spent every Friday and sometimes Saturdays here. You sit there in your pity for a while, thinking about it all. You’ll plan a vacation for when they get home from their honeymoon. You’ll fuck someone you’ll never see again and by the time you get back home, you’ll be over it.

You’ll be the godfather to their first child; Matt will be the best man at your own wedding. You’ll live the rest of your life with this deep dark secret that no one, not even your best friend, will ever know.

Except, you forget that Karen and Foggy are in the bar too. They slide into the seats next to you and just look at you for a while.

“I might be tipsy, and I might not have super senses, but I can tell you’re looking at me. What is it?” You finally pick your head up and look at them.

“I figured it out.” Karen says.

You’re too drunk for this.

“Figured what out, Miss Page?” You ask.

“Me too,” Foggy adds. “And to think, you almost had us.”

“What?”

“The bachelor life. The one-night stands. The constant rotating door of girlfriends because you can’t have the one you actually want.” She continues.

You feel sick. How did they know?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You say, as neutrally as possible but it comes out defensive.

Then Foggy says it.

“You’re in love with Elektra.”

And you stop. They think they have you. Then, you start laughing. Like a crazy person, like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. God, it’s so dumb. You’re just that good at hiding it.

“Nice try, guys.”

“We saw the way you were looking at her while they were playing pool! That’s why you’ve been acting so weird since they got engaged.” Foggy reasons. You know what it looks like.

You took another sip.

“That’s because I’m not in love with her,” Elektra is intelligent, beautiful, and funny. Anyone would be lucky to have her, you’re sure. But you hate that she’s happy for another reason. “It’s because I’m in love with Matt.”

• • •

You’re nineteen years old. You work at a pizza place between semesters, with Matt often coming to visit you. You’re best friends, and he likes to come in, grab a slice and a diet coke, have you take your break with him, and then leave.

One day, he’s late to do this routine and an older coworker says to you, “Where’s your boyfriend?”

Your face burns.

“He’s not my boyfriend, asshole! I’m not gay, I wouldn’t ever dream of it!” You had said, a story you’ve told others and yourself so many times that it doesn’t feel like a lie anymore.

Matt walks in a few minutes later.

The truth is, if you’re honest with yourself, you’ve had feelings for Matt for a long time. Ever since you met him at church one Sunday, you’ve felt this need to be closer to him, to be with him all the time.

You knew what it was then, just like you know now. And just like now, you hated yourself for it.

But it got worse over the years, in a way that you just couldn’t push down like you had done for so many other people.

You became a nurse and when Matt became Daredevil, he used this fact to his advantage. And for a long time before this, you were able to keep how you felt about him at bay. You were able to just be his best friend, and nothing more.

But he crawled into your window one night, drunk on pain and whimpered as he asked you to stitch him up. By the time you were done, he laid there half naked on your couch, and your hands were covered in his blood.

You felt guilty for wanting him while he lay there, wounded. But in another way, you felt baptized, relieved that you were allowing yourself to accept a truth that you had denied for so many years.

And it got worse from there.

After admitting to yourself that you had feelings for him, it became prevalent that there was no going back.

You stopped by the office for lunch this one time and you walked into his office to see him lounging casually at his desk, tie half undone, sleeves rolled up, and hair slightly disheveled. You scolded yourself for being so into him.

And then he got back together with Elektra.

For a while, you figured this was a good thing. A great thing, even. Matt would date Elektra and you could move on, maybe admit to yourself that you liked guys and start dating more of them.

And it worked, for a little bit. It was easier to not love him when he was around Elektra because of how obviously happy he was with her.

Then they got engaged.

You were so angry at yourself for letting it happen, so angry at yourself for not saying anything, angry at him for not noticing, angry at him for not wanting you.

So, you started to date other girls.

And this is how you lived for so long, dating women you didn’t like in favor of burying the immense love you felt for your best friend. Until last week, when you broke up with your girlfriend because you just couldn’t take it anymore.

There would be no telling Matt, sure, but there would be no telling anyone how in love with him you were, there would just be you, coming out and dating men that eased the longing for him.

Until that night at the bar, when Foggy and Karen catch you in this vulnerable state.

They walk you home from the bar that night, as you slip into a drunker and drunker mind. You won’t remember anything after that confession in the morning.

Karen hands you your pajamas and a glass of water. She helps you into bed and holds you as you cry.

“Will he ever know how much I love him?” You ask, drunk and in a different pain Matt was in that night you stitched him up.

Karen shushes you gently and tells you she’ll call you in the morning.

You don’t remember saying that in the morning. All you know is that you’ve made an immeasurably stupid mistake by telling them.

• • •

On Monday, you have off because you worked a 12-hour shift the night before.

Foggy sends you a text asking you to bring them dinner while they work on some cases.

You oblige, ready to push down your feelings until the next time you’re drunk.

But when you get there, you don’t see Matt. You assume he’s in another room, grabbing coffee. You hold up their dinner.

“Hey guys, I brought Chinese.” You tell them, sitting at the table after handing them the bag. You lean back in your seat, keeping your cool.

“Why didn’t you tell us you’re in love with Matt?”

You snap back up.

“I’m sorry, can you be a little more discrete, considering the man has super hearing?!”

Karen rolls her eyes.

“He’s not here. He left a little while ago to go pick up his tux.”

Your jaw clenches, jealousy sewing the hinges shut.

“I didn’t even realize you were into guys.”  Foggy says.

“That was intentional. I never really.. developed feelings for any other guys. Matt is just..” You look down at the chopsticks you’ve been twirling in your fingers. “I just see him and there’s nothing I want more than to just have him, nothing more than to just beg him to want me.”

Karen and Foggy both know the feeling.

Because it’s no secret that Matt is this alluring force of nature especially when it comes to his charisma and determination. Everyone either wants him or wants to be him, and its why Elektra is so perfect for him. They’re similar people.

And who are you? Some nurse who can’t even admit when he’s got it bad for his friend.

“You should tell him before the wedding.”

You scoff at the idea.

“And ruin our friendship? Ruin his wedding day? I’d rather see him happy and oblivious than lose him completely.”

But Karen and Foggy know you well and can see how this is starting to wear on you. You’re losing yourself grieving something that could never have been.  

“You owe it to him and to yourself.”

“I don’t. I know you guys’ care, and I appreciate it. But there isn’t anything to do. Matt and Elektra are going to get married because they love each other and that’ll be that.” You tell them. “Matt won’t ever know how I feel, and I’ve made peace with that. He wouldn’t want me and I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“But how do you know—” Karen starts, but you cut her off.

“Matt’s never expressed any interest in men, and to my knowledge he’s never been with any.”

Then, Foggy says something that haunts you.

“That’s what we thought about you before Friday.”

And it rattles within you, all throughout your body and your brain.

It stays with you throughout the night, and into the next day.

You can’t get it out of your head.

Maybe you could tell him. Just tell him and add on if he doesn’t feel the same, to forget you ever said anything.

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself hope.

You lay in bed that night and fall asleep thinking about it. About if he’ll say yes, if he’ll kiss you like you wanted him to.

You spend days with this thought, with it rattling around. One day you wake up and are greeted by your calendar and see that the wedding is the next day.

You’re sick with nausea at the thought and realize how horrible of an idea it would be to tell him.

You pretty much spend all day, sick, staring at your suit and thinking about how horrible it would be to watch Matt get married to someone who isn’t you. In the church where you met. Not even knowing how much you want him.

You contemplate your options.

You could go to Elektra, beg her to call off the wedding and let you have him.

You could fake being sick, leave the country and block his number.

You could tell Matt the truth.

You opt to call Karen.

“I don’t know what to do.” You say, this vulnerability in your voice that you wouldn’t show normally.

“Oh..” She says your name softly. “Do you love him?” She asks.

“Karen..”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. You know I do.”

“Then tell him that.”

“What if he wants nothing to do with that?”

“Then at least you know.”

And then you ask her the real question that terrifies you.

“What if he does?”

“What?”

“What if he wants me like I want him? What do I do then?”

She wants to ask you, who cares? If Matt wants you just as desperately as you want him, what matters after that? But she felt this way towards Matt Murdock once, so she knows how horrible it is. And she’s fallen in love with women she can’t have before, so she understands.

“Then let yourself be happy.” Is her answer.

• • •

The day of the wedding comes.

You think you might be more nervous than either of them.

You sit with Foggy and Matt in the basement of the church, sipping a whiskey. Matt has his scotch, and Foggy has his rum. The lot of you have rather distinguished tastes.

Matt looks so fucking good. Your heart races. Foggy sees your nervous look and finishes his drink, clearing his throat.

“I’m gonna go check in with Marci and see how everything’s going so far. We have to be up there in ten.” He reminds you. He turns and leaves.

You’re with Matt, alone in your feelings. He’s fixing his cuffs and tilts his head towards you.

“Why is your heart racing?” He grins. “I’m the one getting married.” You say nothing. You take another sip of your drink.

“You’re reading it all wrong.” You tell him. And that isn’t a lie. You’re on the verge of saying it.

“Whatever,” He chuckles. “Help me with my bowtie, please?” He hands you the untied bowtie and you take it. You take it and step towards him.

Your hands are shaking as you wrap the bowtie around his neck and tie it, with this gentleness reserved for only those who truly know you. You can feel his breath against your skin. It’s enough to make you lose your mind. Your fingers fumble with his bowtie, and when you’re done, you straighten it out a bit. He looks really good. He’s yet to close his suit jacket and put on his glasses, but he will soon.

“Matt..” You say softly. “You know I feel about you, right?”

He pauses.

“You’re my best friend.” He hums. “Of course, I do.”

Your hands rest on his shoulders. Your fingers twitch.

“No, It’s more than that.” You tell him. “I love yo—” You’re unable to finish your confession.

Because Matt is kissing you, his hands on your sides, and pushing you against the church basement wall. You melt into the kiss, your hands going up to cup his chin. You feel this swell inside of you, like your prayers have been answered.

Kissing this man you love; you’ve never felt closer to God.

He deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue between your lips and pressing his body against yours, ruining your perfectly unwrinkled suit.

He kisses you for a few moments more.

Then, he pulls away, but you bring him back for another one by his collar, and he happily obliges. Your hand goes up to the nape of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. Then, he pulls away again.

“That was…”

He stands breathless before you.

“I know.” He finishes.

“What happens now?”

He has this confused look on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what do we do next?” To you, it’s so obvious. He should go find Elektra, call everything off, figure out what it would look like to be in a relationship with you. He should say I love you back.

“I’m going to go upstairs and get married.” He says, like it should be the obvious answer.

“What? But you just—”

“I know what I did, but… I can’t…”

“You can’t? You just did.” You defend.

He grabs his glasses where he set them on the coffee table earlier.

“I’m sorry, but we just.. We can’t.”

“No! Not we, there is no we, right now, You can’t! I have been waiting for that for years and you kiss me like that, and you decide you can’t?” You spit out.

He nods.

“You’re right.” For a moment, you live in a world where you’ve convinced him. “There is no we.” He says and turns to the door to leave. You follow him, and before he can open the door, you’re grabbing him, turning him around. Your lips are against his as if to beg him to change his mind. He lets you think you’ve convinced him.

When he pulls away from the kiss, you whisper it out.

“I love you.” You say. “Please, don’t…”

He wants you to ask him not to get married. You won’t. He’d say no anyways.

He steps away from you, buttons up his suit jacket, fixes his bowtie and puts on his glasses.

“Come on, we have to go.” He tells you. He turns and steps out, grabbing his cane on the way.

He leaves you longing for more.

He might not ever give it to you, you realize.

The ceremony is beautiful, and these two will be happy together. It kills you. You watch your best friend get married after kissing him, and something in you is breaking all the while. You were wrong.  You should have told him earlier, you should have gotten over your fears, you should have kissed him so long ago.

You book a flight to the Bahamas for two weeks and take off work or as much time as you can. You just can’t watch the happy newlyweds. It’ll break you even more than it already is.

But at least you and Matt are still friends, right? That’s what this was all about? Keeping him in your life, even if it meant not having him in the way you wanted? You’re willing to give up your happiness if it means he’ll stay in your life.

You’re frustrated, too, especially because the kiss did nothing to deter your attraction, it just makes you want him in such a way that makes you sick.

You’re in love with Matt Murdock and he knows it.

It’s a shame his wife doesn’t.

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 3760 (chapter 48)

'screw valentine's day, i want what they have'

but anyway, you're welcome ☺ thoughts, comments are always appreciated <3

48. this might've been just a dream, right?

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He says again, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Robert? What are you doing here?" You manage to say, feeling as if your whole body has gone numb. The kitchen almost starts spinning, and you feel your blood begin to boil.

"I invited Rob, he's a part of the family." Your father says, leaving Matt alone, and comes to stand next to Robert in the kitchen. Rob. Fucking Rob. Now it was only you against them both. Exactly the way it always has been.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, y/n?" Robert asks, eyes targeting Matt, his voice as sweet as honey. You're not gonna get the authority in this house, and he knows it all too well.

"Yeah, that's Matthew Murdock. My boss." You smile wickedly, watching everyone's eyes widen. "Murdock as in Nelson and Murdock attorneys office."

Matt tries to read the room, waiting for somebody to snap, but Robert only shakes his hand, obviously swallowing some other words.

"Your boss? Y/n, what-" your mother begins, but a single glare from your dad is enough to shut her up. The atmosphere changes immediately, and Matt feels like an outsider, as if he himself was sitting as a spectator in a courtroom, a mere watcher with no real influence on the Jury's final decision.

"I'm sorry, mind if I have a few words with my daughter?" Your father says, walking out of the kitchen, sparing all the pleasantries. He doesn't need to turn back and wait for you because he knows you'll follow.

"Excuse me." You mutter, walking past Matt. He asks for someone to show a way to the bathroom, so he could listen to you and your father talk without completely blanking out in front of others. It was unfair, cheating, using his powers for not a great cause, but he just couldn't be left out in a new environment. Not when it was you and him against the world.

"What? What boss? Mind explaining something to your father?" Harold closes the doors of his bedroom, not shouting or smashing things. But this calmness was always scarier than anger.

"What's there to explain? I work elsewhere now." You sit on the bed, unfazed.

"How long?"

"Two months or so."

"Why?" Yeah, this was the spitting image of a police interrogation.

"I got tired of kissing asses, especially Benowitz's." You simply shrug, holding strong eye contact.

"You had the world under your feet there and left for what? What does he even pay you?" Apparently one look was enough to crack Matt's character and social status.

"Not nearly enough, but I don't really care about money." A steady heartbeat.

"If you think that leaving Benowitz was a great idea, you're very wrong, kid. He's gonna crush that office of yours like a boot crushes an ant." Harold's voice was still unbelievably calm. Matt sits on the closed toilet seat to listen better. "What went wrong? You liked working there."

"He wanted me to give a false statement to the Jury. I refused."

"That's it?"

"Yes." Your heart skips a beat; but you don't desire explaining every 'silly' thing that lead to your resignation. Not now.

He scoffs and a thunder-like laugh leaves his chest. "Honey, if you think that everyone who works as a lawyer is a saint, then you still don't know shit about the world."

"If you thought I was gonna let a guilty party walk freely among everyone else, then you're..." Insane. Stupid. "Wrong."

"But it's not that, is it?"

Matt stiffens, trying to locate your heartbeat again.

"It's... Love, right?" Harold asks again, noticing your pink cheeks. He could always read you like an open book. "Oh, what have I told you after the last time?" A heavy sigh escapes him.

You break the eye contact with him, looking at your feet. The mattress next to you dips, and your face is pulled into your dad's chest. "I know. But it's different. It won't be like the last time." You whisper, your shoulders rigid and unable to release the tension. 

"I want to believe it. But I have a feeling that this time it will be worse."

"No, I promise."

"You don't have to promise me anything. Promise to yourself." He rubs your shoulder with the free hand, thinking over his next words. "Listen, I know that it never worked out with Robert... Although I really wish it did. But I'm not gonna press you this time."

"Who are you and what did you do to my father?" You pull away to look him in the eyes and he wipes the tears from your face.

"I want what's best for my only daughter."

Matt furrows his eyebrows. So many questions and no answers. He understood that the past is better left behind, but not knowing a lot about you was frustrating. 

*** 

The dinner was nice. Apart from the occasional glares thrown at you and Matt from one of the three. You sat next to Matt, who was seated right across Robert, next to your father, facing you, and your mother by his side. Robert was acting like a real man should - he listened, asked questions, commented something on the game that was shown on TV; to a mere watcher, it would've looked like Robert and Matt got along just perfectly. But the tension was hanging thickly around them, as you suspected it would.

Your father was mostly silent, but when he talked, he only asked questions. Questions you didn't particularly enjoy. When you told him about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, now crowned as Daredevil, about how the whole gang of Nelson and Murdock put the city's biggest criminal behind the bars and accidentally let it slip that you've been poisoned, your father almost choked on the apple pie. Of course, the lecture about being more cautious was inevitable, even in front of a guest, but when Matt placed his warm hand on your knee for reassurance, you felt grateful to have him here with you. 

"Do you agree with this devil, Matthew?" Your mother asks, pouring herself a glass of water. You notice her hands slightly shaking. Obviously, no mother wants to hear about their child getting hurt; not even when that child is a 30-year-old lawyer.

"As a lawyer - no." Matt's voice is firm, he doesn't stutter like he did when Karen asked his opinion about the vigilante for the first time, although it wasn't nice to lie about himself. "As a citizen, a blind one too, I think he's doing a lot more good than wrong. I mean, he has saved y/n, and our secretary, more than once."

"By disobeying and breaking multiple rules." Robert speaks from behind a cup, sending you 'is this guy serious' look.

"Well, you can't have something good without a bit of bad." Matt responds, and you bite away a grin, giving Robert a glare back. 

"Sounds a lot like church teaching." 

"Well, I am catholic." Matt answers to Robert.

"So as a catholic, you believe in his doings?" Your mother asks again. The question hangs in the air for a while, accompanied by the sound of intense commentating on TV.

"Please, let's not involve religion at this table." You groan slightly. 

"No, I wanna hear his opinion." You look at Robert threateningly, but he avoids your eyes. 

"Yeah, I mean... He's not killing people... From what I've heard. Just... Beats them up and gives them to police."

"So what you're saying..." your father clears his throat, "is that police are not capable of dealing with the criminals... and they need another criminal to help them?"

Ah, the police way of talking. You knew this was coming sooner or later. Maybe bringing Matt here was a mistake.

"I usually don't doubt honest work of police officers but-"

"Fisk had at least half of the precinct paid off. I saw FBI arresting them." You help Matt, suddenly feeling the need to defend him from your family's sharp words. You two against the whole world.

"All the good men then left, I see." Harold clears his throat again, this time more embarrassed than confident, "when I was Chief Officer, anyone who was bribed was kicked out of the force... by me. Personally. I guess a lot has changed, in almost ten years."

"Why did you leave the force?" Matt risks a lot with this question, and suddenly everyone at the table tense. You gulp loudly beside Matt, panic evident in your eyes when they meet your father's tired ones. Your mother focuses on the glass of water in her hand, not making eye contact with anyone. Robert notices your eyebrow slightly twitching when you look at Camilla, something about your face now was different; you looked paler, more tired, as if these were your last moments on Earth. He knew some of it, the story, the real reason, but after the time when he asked for more details and was met with your furious father, he didn't dare to look for more details anymore. What he knew, was half of the truth, and frankly, it was enough for him. It was the same for your mother, yet she learned to be humble and silent about it. 

The question hangs heavily in the air, until your father replies, "Uh, just encountered some personal... Health problems."

He's lying. Too obvious for someone who previously worked in the force. Harold's heartbeat is all over the place, loudly pounding in Matt's ears. As is yours. Something about this was not right, suspicious.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Matt sends a small apologetic smile towards your dad, his hand finding your knee under the table again. You almost flinch, but then quickly cover it up with a cough. Your skin somehow feels both hot and cold at the same time, and Matt feels the sudden tensing of your body. "If you were still a captain, none of that mess with Fisk would've ever happened." 

"Don't be so sure, Matthew." Harold's voice is low, with a note of regret, "from what I've heard now, he's worked hard in the shadows to lure powerful people and built his empire from scratch. A man like this is very dangerous and hard to capture."

"But not impossible." Matt strives to bring positivity back on the table, but this appears to be impossible.

"Matthew, take no offense, but you're too catholic for your own good." Harold answers, and you know that this is his final word in this talk.

The men return from the backyard, and you can only guess what they talked about the whole time they were gone. You pass Matt in the corridor, grazing his hand with your fingers as you go and make way towards the bathroom to wash your face. A minute later, someone slips inside, and you think that it's Matt, but when you lift your head to grab a towel, you see Robert standing in the middle of the bathroom, his arms crossed on his chest. 

***

You help your mother get the guest room ready, exchanging only few words. She likes Matt, admits it herself, but doesn't dare to comment anything else. Mother's intuition was telling her that you didn't bring Matt here to simply make a blind man's lonely holiday better, perhaps you wanted to introduce him as your boyfriend, but didn't dare to do so when Robert was in the house. She also liked Robert, he was almost like a son to her, visiting them ocassionally since highschool, he wasn't a rare sight in this house, but... Maybe it was time to move on. For everyone. Camilla knew that if Robert continues coming here, you'll become a rare sight. In her heart, she wanted what's best for you, her dearest daughter, but she also knew about your tough character and how easily you can break apart when you're hurt.

"Occupied." 

"Well, then you should've locked the door." His voice is nonchalant, you notice that he's already changed his clothes, ditched the long sleeved shirt for an old police academy t-shirt. He looks as if he was trying to flex his biceps in front of you, but the thought of that makes you grin. Matt definitely had a stronger body than this Sheriff wannabe.

"Not my fault that there's an idiot in the house."

"Classic y/n." He scoffs, leaning on the door with his whole back. "So, this guy, a new toy of yours?"

"Do I hear jealousy, Robert?"

He ignores your question, going on a ramble, "see, this is why some people think of you as a whore, going around, playing men and then leaving them when you get bored. Even at the dinner table you two can't keep your hands to youself, huh? Are you two fucking?"

"I fuck whomever I want. And it's no concern of yours." You say, leaning on the sink.

"Have you forgotten about us? How good it felt when we were together?" He says, his back still pressed against the bathroom door, keeping the maximum distance in the small space.

"Maybe it felt good for you, but you've never even bothered to ask if it felt good for me." You bite, watching his eyes widen in shock... Or shame.

"Oh please, if someone had heard us, they would've thought that I was the best man on the planet with the way you were screaming."

"Maybe I was screaming because I disliked it? How can you know when you've always turned away to sleep or left after you were done rutting your dick into me?" You wave your hands in front of you in a dirty gesture, noticing Robert's clenched jaw.

"He's gonna break your heart. Like you did mine. I just hope the pain is even worse for you than it was for me."

"I broke your heart? Please." You scoff, crossing your arms, "when I told you about my problem, you basically vanished."

"I needed some time to think, but I still wanted you. I still do." His voice is desperate and it makes you sick.

"Oh, save it for some other poor soul, you just wanted to get me pregnant but when the doctors said that it's impossible, you threw me away like a dirty rag. That's all you wanted - to have nice little children, and not because you loved me, but because you were so obsessed with my father that you wanted a connection between the two of you!" Your voice gets louder and Robert glances at the door nervously.

"I don't need any children to have a connection with your father. I already have it." He boasts, so sure of his place in this house that if he hated you, he would have the power to banish you from here. But he didn't. Deep in his heart, there we still strong feelings for you.

"Oh, right, I forgot that you are the son he wished to have, and not me, the daughter who's whoring around every man she sees, right?" Your voice is strong, displaying years of suppressed anger and not being loved enough in your own home. "Do you know how hard it was for me to be with you after all that I went through? How your touch made me flinch? And you have the audacity to come here to my parent's house and say that you want me back? Don't you understand the reason I left you the second time?" You desperately grab onto the sink with your palms and take deep breaths.

"You said you were better, how was I supposed to read your goddamn mind?" He shouts, and suddenly you feel like you've travelled back in time, before you were even a lawyer, and were arguing about the same things with Robert.

"I said I was better because I was, the therapy was helping, but I wasn't feeling well with you around. You're just... Too similar to him."

"If you think that I'm similar to that psychopath, you're not better than him yourself."

"You-" you grab a tube of body lotion from the sink and throw it at Robert, hitting him in the chest. "Get out of my sight before I throw something sharper than this fucking lotion!"

"You will fuck this up, whatever you two have going on, it's doomed." He leaves the bathroom, closing the door loudly.

*** 

An hour later you're gently knocking on Matt's door, hoping to disappear from the corridor before Robert or your father see you. Robert was staying in the room next to this, and he could exit any moment. Matt opens quickly, much to your luck, a confused look on his face. Without words, he lets you inside. 

"Wow, that is really dark, I gotta," you walk towards the corner of the room and turn on a lamp. Warm yellow light fills the space, and you notice Matt's slumped shoulders. "What did they even do to you?" You say with a humourless laugh, sitting at the end of the bed. 

"Don't worry, we just chatted. What's up with you?" Matt tries to sound innocent, but he didn't know what to do with the information he overheard. He wanted to hug you, and never let you out of his embrace, but you had to tell everything you told Robert to him yourself.

"You want some?" You say, taking a sip of wine straight from the bottle. He doesn't answer, but sits next to you on the bed. "It's wine."

"Where'd you get that?"

"Stole from my parents. I need it more than they do." You push the bottle into Matt's hands, and watch him drink. "I truly hoped that this could be our escape from the problems and the whole Hell's Kitchen, but... I'm sorry it got ruined. By an obvious somebody." Your voice wavers with anger.

"It's alright. I got to spend more time with you." Matt shrugs, his knee resting against yours. 

"Aren't you just full of positivity?" You smile, honestly, for the first time this evening. "So, how bad are the first impressions?" You drink again, not letting Matt out of your sight. 

"They're good. I think your mom likes me a lot." He smiles, and you fight the urge to put your palm on his cheek. "Robert's not very talkative with me, and your dad... I think he has accepted the fact that Robert's not your boyfriend anymore."

"Ah, you know, Matt, I love your ability to see positive aspects of every shitty situation." You laugh, finally loosening up when the wine kicks in.

"You didn't tell me it was your birthday." Matt says, taking a swing from the bottle. The wine is good, not too sweet and just the right amount of sour. "Which day was it?"

"November 13th." You answer, lying on your side with your hand under your head. "I stopped celebrating a long time ago."

Matt drinks some more and puts the bottle away, lying down as well, mirroring you. "Why?"

"Got tired of all the meaningless gifts, and money. I hate when people gift money and say 'go buy whatever you want'. It just completely loses the whole birthday meaning. A gift should be something that screams 'you're on my mind' or 'this made me think of you' and not 'this is shiny and girly, I hope this will pass as a good gift'." You scoff, "One time Robert gifted me a red lipstick because he liked the color."

"Jesus, really?" Matt can't hold the laugh, and you burst out laughing as well, hiding your face in his chest. When the laughter dies, Matt's hand begins gently stroking your hair, "I would gift you the whole world if I could."

"Lying is a sin, Matthew." You smile, kissing his exposed neck. "You should be very careful with these kinds of statements. Or I might twist them around." 

He lets you kiss his neck, his jaw and his chest, but the uneasiness stirring inside of him doesn't allow Matt to fully focus on you the way he'd want to. "I overheard something... You and Robert were talking." 

The words make you stop and you look at him intently, panic setting in, "what exactly?"

Words get stuck in his throat, and Matt's face becomes red, embarassed. He should've just kept his mouth shut, but of course, the devil had to pull his tongue. "Something about pregnancy. I was just passing by and-"

"Oh, that." You close your eyes, bracing yourself. "I was planning to tell you this some time later. I didn't know how far will we go... Because no woman goes around telling that to the first guy in her bed... But I think you already deserve to know." You pause, feeling your own heart beating loudly in your ears, Matt puts his hand on yours for emotional support. He has heard every single word you and Robert said to each other, but he needed to hear it all from you. "I... I can't have children. I can't get pregnant, and... If you had thoughts about family, now it's perfect time for you to run away."

"I won't leave you, y/n." He squeezes your hand, reassuringly, "I... I don't care. Family, no family, I just want to be with you."

"Just please, don't be disappointed later when that honeymoon phase passes." You sigh.

"I won't. I promise." Matt seals his promise with a kiss, one full of love and adoration.

I love you.

***

The night felt like a fever dream for you and Matt. He kissed you the way he has never kissed anyone; his touch was like fire on your skin, exploring your body like he has already done many times before, but this time it was even more intimate. This wasn't just sex anymore; it was a feeling almost divine, as if your spirits were connecting and merging into one. You gripped the sheets, raked Matt's strong back with your nails, surely leaving long red marks, and welcomed his body weight on yours when you both came from the highest of all the highs - it was divine. When Matt continued to tightly hold your interlocked hands next to your head, and panted hot air into your neck, you didn't expect him to say the next words.

This was beyond the description of 'divine' and all the other words that were used to describe a feeling out of this planet. This was something else, something unreal, a thing one so madly in love longs to hear, dreams, expects and waits for... Yet is never ready when these words are said aloud.

If you didn't have to be quiet, you'd surely would have been laughing into his strong, hairy chest, pressing his body into yours a million times until you wouldn't have been able to move a single muscle. But you couldn't. So you showered Matt with kisses, feeling your lips uncomfortably tingling, and swollen, and told him the same three words back.

It was a fever dream, and you both were sick with the worst disease ever - love.

[the-mighty-jellybean]

The Hound of Hell's Kitchen

A/N: Hi Guys, so let's do this, brand new book, with a brand new fascination of mine. This is going to be a/b/o dynamic because I'm loving fics like this recently. I've been doing more research on this dynamic and how I can improve from my Stucky one. Including new terms and practices within this AU. Anyway, let's get on with this book.

Series Summary: "We are only as blind as we want to be." Maya Angelou

Y/N Y/L/N was not prepared to be hindered by how the world viewed her position in society, not even the law was going to define, who she was as a person. Strong, brave and true of heart. The very qualities that make her so attractive to the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

Pairings: Matt Murdock x Reader

Series Warning: Fluff, Eventual Smut, Angst and a little childhood trauma, just to really spice some things up. Strong Language

(18+ Only)

Chapter One: Laws of the Concrete Jungle

Chapter Warnings: Strong Language, Angst, Violence

Word Count: 2.9k

"Start from the beginning, Miss Y/L/N," the man in red spectacles probed, "and we'll take it from there."

-------------A Few Hours earlier----------

"I heard, it's eyes glow like the devil."

"That's bullshit. I've heard when it howls, the ground shakes with the force of a thousand earthquakes."

Y/N quietly snorted to herself as she eaves-dropped on the two blabbering Beta's across from her on the subway. She quickly looked down at her feet, when the two men looked up at her, she reached into her bag to grab the small spray bottle, which contained her industrial sent blocker. Y/N was quick to apply the spray to her wrists, rubbing it in firmly, the blockers own scent was masked by the perfumed fragrance of rose and lavender. The men look away, Y/N rouse was bought, and the men carried on their conspiracy theories, Y/N electing to tune out this time.

The subway groaned under the weight of its cargo, as it pulled itself around the city. Y/N knew how it must have felt, supporting the people of this city, thankless; as it fulfils its purpose society had created it for.

Society.

What a joke that word was to Y/N. Society had done nothing for Y/N since the day she was born. In school, Y/N was taught that Society is what keeps the world ticking, without Society, the world descends in to chaos. Society and natural order was what kept people under control, and in their places.

What was Y/N's role?

Well the one Society had chosen for her, left her vulnerable; left her unable to work; unable to support herself; it had left her without a family; and all in all, she was alone within this society.

The natural order, Y/N was told to follow, left her at the bottom of the pile. An Omega, an unmated Omega at that.

The law stated that Y/N was not allowed to work, she would only be permitted to undertake voluntary work, but that was limited, as employers weren't keen on unmated Omegas holding positions within their establishment. Worried that an Alpha would not take kindly to the idea of having an unmated Omega in their presence, whether that be because of their own superiority complex, or employers would not be keen on settling any industrial tribunals if a Omega were attacked on their time.

Omegas weren't really allowed to even be out on their own. Traveling in a pack of Omegas was the preferred method, if you were yet to be mated, kept everyone safe, and was seen as proper, within this society.

However, Y/N sat alone on the rusted train, the only reason she successfully navigated this concrete jungle, was because of the black market blockers, she'd managed to source in some random back alley. It wasn't illegal to own scent toners, this was a chemical solution, which allows the scents of Omega's to be turned down, so that they might be less alluring to Alphas. Yet it was illegal to completely mask your scent altogether, let alone force your scent to be so severely altered, it made you present as something completely different. It had taken her ages to find the perfect solution to her natural predicament, but coming to New York had opened up many avenues, both for the better and the worse.

The train crunched to a stop, the whole train in unison shifting slightly to the left before snapping back right, then finding their balance once again. The doors shift open, people get off, people get on...but wait;

'What's that smell?'

Y/N thought, she scans the open doors either side of her, settling on the door on her right, she tries to subtly sniff the air, desperate to solidify the smell.

Her scenes land on a young girl, probably no older than 15, she smells of vanilla, but there's a hint of mildew. The familiar smell of female puberty. The breeze from the underground station she had just stepped off of, only helped to push her scent further into the small compartment.

Either she didn't know, or was trying to ignore it, but this girl was right in the middle of her presenting, and it wasn't going to end well for her.

Y/N noticed how the whole carriage had turned to face this innocent girl, the hairs stood up on the back of her neck, when a much older man entered just after the turning Omega. He had that look in his eye, a look that Y/N recognised all to well, a look that had haunted her every day of her life.

It was a wild look, pupils dilated, his lips were pursed in a thin line, low growls were rippling across his chest. They were quiet enough not to alert others in the train, but they were loud enough for Y/N sensitive hearing.

Y/N's fingers curled into fists, her own breathing laboured, when she noticed the way the Alpha male stood over the young girl. It was obvious the young Omega was uncomfortable, the way she picked at the fabric of her pants, bouncing her knee, staring straight ahead at her feet.

It appeared that no one else on the train was bothered by this clear display of Alpha aggression. Once the doors closed and everyone performed their unison dance to the left before popping back up to the right, they carried on with their lives. Y/N could tell some people were forcing themselves to ignore what was going on, mainly the elderly, and the other women within the carriage. Not wanting to draw attention to themselves.

However, Y/N was not intimidated by the obvious mating display, that she was witnessing. As the train continued to rattle along the track, the Alpha only appeared to be more incentivised by the "lack" of interest this little girl was showing.

When the train arrived at the next stop, the girl stands up, attempting to pass the man in front of her, he only side stepped to block her exit. She tries again, this time on the other side, but the man follows, this time he places his hand on her wrist.

That was all Y/N needed to see, she stands immediately, striding over to the Alpha.

"Let her go and get off the train." Y/N demand, standing not so much nose to nose, more chest to nose, with the aggravated Alpha.

"Buzz off Beta, this is none of your business." The man snarls, without taking his eyes, from the panicked young girl. Well at least Y/N knew her blockers were working.

Y/N snatches at the man's arm, gripping it tightly, by now the public are watching once again.

"I said," she sternly whispers, "Let. Go. Of. Her."

"Or what, Beta, what you gonna do about it"

"This."

Squeezing the man's arm firmly, she feels it break under her crushing grip instantly, making the Alpha cry out in pain. He goes to grab hold of the arm, squeezing his own, but Y/N is quick to slap it away, before she grabs the man under his throat. Panicked choking, splutters out of his mouth, spit splashing Y/N's face.

Slowly, Y/N raises the man off his feet, before she launches him through the closing train doors, bending them out of shape, as the Alpha flies through them, landing hard on the platform on the other side.

Y/N is panting with anger, but she swallows thickly, eyes darting left to right, everyone was looking, both in shock and fear. Y/N places her hand on the small of the young Omega's back, and pushes her lightly off the train, guiding her over the whimpering Alpha, who cradles his arm close to his chest, as he gasps for his own breath.

The Omega glances behind her shoulder, eyes wide, but she does go willingly with Y/N, who pushes her out of the subway station, and up onto street level.

"Are you alright?' Y/N asks the girl, once they're a good distance away from the scene that just unfolded.

"Umm yes, I think...um...thank you." the girl fumbled her way through the sentence, she was still wary. "What was that? You enhanced?"

"Something like that, but you don't need to worry anymore." Y/N flashed a brief smile, before reaching back into her rucksack and pulling out the spray, "Here put some of this on, then I advise going to the nearest pharmacy and getting a bottle of toner."

"Thanks...again." The Omega smiled shyly, taking the solution, and spraying it on her neck and wrists.

"Do your pits as well." Y/N advised, the girl's face going a light shade of pink, but she still does it, "Your scent will be strongest in your armpits, until you finish presenting."

The girl nodded, before spraying one last time just on the centre of her chest, and then hands the spray bottle back to Y/N, who quickly puts it in her bag.

"What's your name?" the omega asked.

"Y/N. What's yours?"

"Lucy."

Y/N flashes her smile, and extends her hand, and Lucy takes it, shaking it.

"Nice to meet you Lucy, stay out of trouble." Y/N advised once more, before slinging her rucksack onto her back, and walking away from the stunned girl, who quickly turns as well, heading to the local pharmacy.

---------

"Where have you been?" Jordan asked, wheeling his chair out from behind his desk, when Y/N threw her bag onto the floor.

"Don't ask." Y/N huffed, grabbing the stool next to her work station and seating herself, close to her picking station.

"Well, I'm your boss, I'm meant to ask, when my employee is late." Jordan chuckles. He was a kind Beta man, who ran a t-shirt printing shop towards the edge of hell's kitchen. Business was quiet, but that was better for Y/N. Jordan gave Y/N a job purely because she could lift heavier boxes of t-shirts than he could. He didn't ask questions about that, he was just grateful for the help.

And Y/N was just grateful that Jordan didn't really ask questions at all. Not about how she ended up in New York, or even where she had come from before. All he wanted was for her to turn up on time, pick some vinyl, and press t-shirts....and occasionally lift some deliveries.

She was good at all but the first.

Y/N did feel guilty about lying to Jordan, he was a good friend, but she didn't want to risk getting him into trouble. After all it was illegal to employ an unmated Omega for paid work.

"Sorry, bit of a situation on the subway." Y/N shrugged, head still down as she picked away at the plastic.

"Do I want to know anymore?"

"Nah, just some drunk." Y/N spoke without skipping a beat. That was all Jordan needed, as he turned back to his computer to answer emails.

Y/N was only a few hours into her shift before the peaceful silence that had fallen between the two coworkers was broken, by the sound of the shop bell ringing as someone entered through the front door.

Both of them looked up and were shocked to see two police officer standing at the front desks.

"Officers, how may I help you?' Jordan stood from his desk, making the very short walk to the front of the shop.

"We're looking for Y/N Y/L/N."

Y/N's blood ran cold, it felt as if her heart leapt out of her chest, and splattered onto the desk in front of her. Slowly she stood up, and came into view of the officers.

"How can I help you, officers." Y/N tried to control the shake in her voice, the reason for the visit from law enforcement could literally be a hundred different reasons, and all of which would end in Y/N getting herself a one way ticket to Manhattan Correctional Facility...or worst.

"Do you know anything about an incident on the subway from Sunnyside?" The officer asked, placing his hands on his hips, Y/N noticed how his fingers brushed over the Glock strapped to his belt, before they settled at his waist. The other officer is clearly sniffing the air, he isn't very subtle as he literally dips his head down and up, trying to profile Y/N.

"What another drunk wander onto the tracks?" Y/N tries to distract, she rubs at the gland on her wrist, trying to push the forced scent of confusion around the room.

"Not exactly no," the officer smirked, "We're gonna need you to come with us Miss Y/L/N."

"What for, am I under arrest?" Y/N spoke in disbelief, still trying to scent confused rather than panic.

"Depends, you gonna come quietly?" The officer's hands dropped down from his waist, to sitting on his cuffs and gun.

"I don't think I'll have a choice." Y/N mumbles, looking to Jordan, who sat in complete disbelief, his mouth hanging open, eyebrows knitted together in confusion, his scent was strong, and clear.

"Y/N?" Jordan manages to force out.

"It's okay, Jordy," Y/N held her hand up, and she shuffled over towards the officers, she kicks her rucksack subtly under the desk, the officers none the wiser, "It'll be okay."

The officers escort her out, taking her to their car, before they made their journey back to the precinct.

--------

"Name." the clerk asked, not taking her eyes from the computer screen, as Y/N stood in front of the desk,

"Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N." Y/N stated clearly, still trying to push the scent of confusion into the air.

Once the clerk had answered all the questions, Y/N was taken to a small interview room, the lights low and hazy, Y/N snuffed at the mirror on one side of the room, controlling the urge to wave.

The officer placed his hand on her shoulder, pushing her roughly into one of the seats. Y/N had to prevent herself from growling, or spiking her anger levels.

"Wait here," the officer spoke gruffly, "you have a lawyer?"

"I wasn't aware I was under arrest?" Y/N asked, looking up at the officer, confusion thick in the air.

"A lawyer will be provided to you if you don't have one." The officer didn't break character.

"No, I don't have a lawyer." Y/N huffed, turning to face the other side of the table which was empty. Slotting her fingers together, she starts to bounce her leg, once the officer left the room.

Y/N tried to listen to the conversations outside the door, however, the precinct was a busy place, banging and clanging, shouting and screaming, it was hard to pick up any specific conversations.

Suddenly something came through all the chatter and the chaos.

A tapping.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Getting louder and louder as it approached the doorway.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Y/N's ears flicked, when the tapping appeared to be outside the door.

Tap. Tap. Click.

The door pushed open, and two men walked into the room. First one, his scent was plain, boring, but with a hint of stale whiskey. Beta. The second man, now his scent was interesting.

Vetiver and sandalwood. It was an Alpha's scent, but it wasn't strong.

'Is he wearing a toner?'

Y/N was so deep in thought, she hadn't even noticed that the second man was completely blind, until she realised the red shades he was wearing, weren't a fashion choice. And the tap, tap, tapping was coming from the cane he had in his hand.

Y/N watched the blind man very closely, as he sat himself directly across from her, the Beta sitting himself next to him.

"And you are?" Y/N questioned, her leg still bouncing, she chewed her lip.

"I'm Franklin Nelson and this is my partner Matthew Murdock, but please call us Foggy and Matt." The Beta chirped, he was happy, a little too happy for Y/N's usual somber appearance.

"Aww you guys make a cute couple." Y/N snarked, the Beta's smile dropped momentarily, before he managed to fix it back on his face. Y/N smelt the tinge of embarrassment, but she smelt amusement from the Alpha.

"Not that kind of partner." Matt smirked.

"We are your legal representation," Foggy explained, "And we want to hear your side of the story."

"Well I'd love to give it to you, but I'm not really sure why I am here." Y/N shrugged, partly telling the truth.

"They haven't informed you?" Matt asked.

"Nope, all I know is two cops show up at my place of work, asking about my morning commute to work, that was all."

"And you can't possibly think what might have happened on your way to work this morning that might explain why you might be sat here right now?" Foggy enquired, Matt tilted his head to the side, and appeared to look as if he'd zoned out.

"Nope." Y/N lied, she could have sworn Matt's lips twitched into a smile, when she spoke, but his face for the majority remained unreadable.

"Well maybe this will explain a few things." Foggy reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, he taps a few things in before turning the screen to face, Y/N, who's brows are furrowed as she watches a news clip begin on the screen.

Slowly Y/N's eyes go wide, as the video is played to her. The shaky footage showed the grainy image of a woman on a subway, lifting a man twice her size off the floor by his neck, before hurtling him through the metal doors of the train.

Although the image was blurry, if you knew it was Y/N it was unmistakable.

"Start from the beginning Miss Y/L/N." The man with the red spectacles probed, "and we'll take it from there."

Chapter Two

A/N: Welp I hope that's an interesting first chapter for you guys. You know I like a slow burner, when it comes to my fics, and this one will be no different. Updates won't be as regular as they use to be because I'm a hell of a lot busier these days, but I promise I won't make you wait too long between each chapter.

Drop me a note if you wish to be added to my Taglist, gonna start a new one for this fic, because I don't know if people form my old one would want to be included in my new content.