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writingfics-passingtime · 10 months

Note

Hello my love!! For the mistake prompts:

Miracle Baby by Nothing but Thieves + Dealers choice!

This is such a fun idea😮‍💨 Happy drabbles!

Wasting My Time

This drabble is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!

Song Prompt: Miracle Baby

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader (romantic, no pronouns used but disclaimer that this one feels more female-implied than others)

Word Count: ~1450

CW: Swearing, mentions of drugs, explicitly implied sex

Note: First, I love the subtle roast calling this a “mistake prompt” thank you Ella 😂 this song is so cool and gave me hazy dive bar feelings, and going-home-with-hot-stranger feelings. Hope you enjoy!

Matt hated things like this.

His fingers idly tapped against the cool condensation blanketing the beer bottle on the bar in front of him, halfway torn between thinking about his trial in the morning and debating whether to go out tonight. Either way, he was itching to leave.

It was loud. The obnoxious kind of loud, not the kind where you could feel the appreciation for life and joy and merriment. Being dragged along to these stupid law school alumni mixers was the worst way to spend a Sunday evening. Yeah, you hated things like this.

But you’d just spotted the perfect distraction.

At your 10 o’clock. Tall, dark, handsome, sitting alone at the bar. Better yet, he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here, so, common ground.

You made your way through the masses, through the thick and clogged atmosphere saturated with terrible work-related jokes and the desperation to impress. Everyone else was in a sea of familiar faces but not you. You didn’t go to Columbia for law school. You only came because your roommate was too shy to come alone and promised she wouldn’t abandon you the exact way she did about five minutes ago.

Besides, you’d only lived in New York for three months and you’d spent so much energy settling into your dream law job that you hadn’t given much attention to making friends. Or to sex. But that was about to change.

Hence, the lone wolf at the bar.

After ordering some kind of sour cherry and lime cocktail with an over-the-top name, you settled on the stool next to the man. He didn’t acknowledge you and a quick glance at his walking stick gave you an indication as to why not.

“Let me guess,” you turned your head towards him and he looked your way. “Criminal law?”

He nodded, smiling with half his mouth. “What gave it away: the cheap suit, or the air of constant dread?”

You laughed, and the sound of it made Matt’s smile crack open. “You didn’t hand me a business card the second I sat down. And the lack of white powder around your nose.”

He laughed back, and you were successfully distracted.

His name was Matt, you soon learned. Past knowing he practised criminal law and that he graduated from Columbia you learned nothing more about his law career. You told him you were new in town, he told you he’d lived here his whole life, you told him you were grateful to meet someone so normal who’s been around forever and still thinks this city is worth staying in. He asked you why you chose New York and you said it just seemed like the right place to be. You couldn’t explain in. You blushed when you admitted it and your heartbeat picked up, so maybe you were doubting that decision.

He asked you about your hometown and turned his body completely towards you. You told him about it, about escaping on scholarship to Princeton, and your knees were soon gently resting against his. Somewhere throughout the course of the conversation, he rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt up to just below his elbows. He took his time, made a subtle show of it.

You sipped slowly, Matt noticed; you weren’t here to get drunk. The citrus of your drink complimented the lavender in your shampoo, body wash, whatever the fuck it was that was the calmest thing in this place. It was clear you two were getting on well. So much so, no one bothered you.

Finally, he asked: “Where do you practise?”

“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head and pulled a knotted cherry stem from your teeth. “You and I are having a nice conversation here, Matt,” you chuckled. “All I do, all fucking day, is talk about law, think about law, breathe the fucking law-”

He grinned and held up an apologetic hand. “Message received.”

“Let’s talk about anything else.”

“Okay,” he held up that same hand towards you, putting the ball squarely in your court. “Shoot.”

You narrowed your eyes and twirled the stem between your fingertips. After a moment of contemplation, knowing very well where this may lead, you decided that this tall, dark and handsome distraction was worth the risky line.

“Do you think you could beat a grizzly bear in a fight?”

His eyebrows shot up but he didn’t stutter. “Excuse me?”

“No weapons. Pure brawn. One-on-one. Who wins, you or the bear?”

“The bear,” he waved his hand decisively. “No question.”

“Thank god,” you breathed in relief, nursing a smirk behind the stem in your fingers. His puzzled look was his question, so you answered. “Six percent of American men think they could beat a grizzly bear in a fight. Which means, there are about…” you looked around in a estimate head count, “four men in this bar who vastly overestimate their abilities.”

Matt bumped his eyebrows. Another question.

“I’m just making sure you’re not one of the four,” you said after another sip. Your glass was almost empty.

“Oh?” Matt cocked his head and found himself drawn in closer. “And why is that?”

You placed your now-empty glass down, letting it hit with a finality against the wooden bar. “Forgive me if I read you wrong, just seemed like you were searching for a reason to get the hell outta here too.”

Matt let your comment linger, and lifted the bottle to his lips to take another swig. He drained the last little bit and placed it on the counter next to yours. Your heart was beating pretty fast and you tried to calm your cherry-stained breathing, tried to look cool and collected. You wanted him, and you were the perfect distraction.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Your breath in was shaky. Risky. No one else would’ve heard it.

“I’m just making sure I’m not wasting my time,” you said. “It’s not usually that fun, going home with a man who thinks they’re more capable than they actually are.”

He laughed once through his nose and pulled his beaten leather wallet from his coat pocket, placing thirty on the table to cover his beer, your cocktail and a tip for the bartender. “Trust me, sweetheart,” he stood and held his open palm out to you. You took his hand and left your stool with your coat and bag over your other arm. He leaned down, leaned in, so you could hear his husky promise over the sound of the bar. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

Sufficed to say, you had never met a more capable man.

His place was nice, his sheets were clean, he was strong and generous and attentive and that was a big problem. Because this was supposed to just be a distraction. A one-night thing. But it was hard to leave his bed at two thirty in the morning, it felt like tearing yourself away. And that was a problem.

Stay, he’d said. He had fresh towels, a toothbrush, he’d call you a cab in the morning after he’d made you coffee. I can’t, you said. On any other night you would have, but tomorrow was a big day. He understood, didn’t press the matter, and he called you a cab after wishing you a twenty-minute goodbye.

It was only at quarter to nine that same morning, when you were walking up the front steps with a takeaway coffee in hand, that you realised you didn’t have any way to contact him other than through your roommate, who might have his information. You didn’t even know Matt’s last name.

Matt thought about you as Foggy prepped the client in hushed whispers from the defence table. As he straightened files and pens and his personal voice recorder, he wondered when he’d run into you again. You’d been a good distraction. Too good. It was like you were still next to him, like he could still smell the cherry and lime, the lavender and honey and-… wait.

You settled next to your boss and put thoughts of last night out of your head, ready and focused to take on the day. It was a big one. For the first time since moving to New York, you were the lead on a case.

Matt’s mind raced as he listened to every whisper in the courtroom, and as he listened to them hush as the judge kicked off proceedings from the bench.

“Are we ready to begin?” Judge Wallace asked in a deadpan, looking straight to the defence’s table. Foggy stood.

“Defence is ready, Your Honour.”

From fifteen feet away, Matt heard the prosecutor stand. He closed his eyes behind his glasses and held in a sigh when he heard your voice say:

“Thank you, Your Honour. The State is ready to proceed.”

Oh… fuck.

#spicy matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock Drabble #matt Murdock x you #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #i love enemies to lovers but is this the opposite ???#Yes I’ve been gone for three plus months #But im just in the mood to write today #and I’m on a Matt Murdock high right now #Marvel x reader #JJ’s mixtape

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