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0ctober-writes · 2 months

Note

Hello, have a smut Matt X wife reader request. You are part of Nelson and Murdock and have your own office, there you have dirty thoughts, but this does not go unnoticed by Matt who really has to pull himself together not to storm into your office

Behind Closed Doors and Paper-Thin Walls

Tags: Matt Murdock x Reader, Reader is thirsting hard, Foggy is an innocent bystander. Potential reference to switch!Matt and switch!Reader if you squint, Matt has a cock, Reader has a pussy; oral, p-in-v, bondage, and pegging/bottom!Matt fantasies. Part 2 potential if it's wanted. No use of Y/N. 2,761 words.

The only thing that separated you and your husband, Matt Murdock, was a papery-thin wall and a cracked window.

You sat at a desk in the main room in the office, prepping Wednesday’s case file for Matt and Foggy. With every trial the law firm only got bigger and bigger, and they desperately needed help planning cases. In the other room, Foggy’s office, the duo were on the phone with some-such or another. It apparently wasn’t going well because you could hear Foggy slam close his desk drawer. You huffed yourself, not exactly in the mood to deal with two very grumpy men, no matter how professional they maintained.

Matt walked out of the office, hands running through his hair. He made a beeline to the coffee pot, hoping to drown his woes into a cheap brew. Of course, it had been emptied by the three of you in the morning, so he went to work looking for the ground beans.

“Sounds like you guys are dealing with a nightmare,” you said. You stood from the desk to help him find the coffee, fetching the bag from one of the top shelves. “Let me make your coffee so you can breathe for a minute.” You knew you didn’t have to do this, Matt was capable of making his own drink no matter his mood, but you wanted to alleviate his stress in any way you could.

“You don’t have to do that, honey, I got it,” Matt objected, going to take the bag from you only for you to snatch it from his reach.

“I know, now go sit down. I love you,” you said, throwing out the old filter and putting a new one in the brewer.

Matt obeyed, quickly accepting a chance to be doted on. He sagged into one of the chairs by the entrance door, loosening his tie and leaning back with a sigh. You glanced over for just a second to check on him, but stopped all movement when you saw him. Disheveled hair from running his hands through it, loose tie, head leaned back… it was a position all too familiar to you. You coughed to keep yourself from whining, a blush rushing to your face and running down your neck.

You tried to keep your thoughts from trailing off the task, telling yourself that you were at work, Matt was in a bad mood, and Foggy is literally right there. Like playing tug-of-war with a team of oxen, you quickly fell down the horny rabbit hole. Your mind flashed with images of all the times the two of you had fucked at work–when you were still the newbie, after a date night that turned into a work night, the week before your wedding–there were definitely a dozen more examples, but those stood out to you the most. Your thighs squeezed together, suddenly so desperate to touch yourself. You hoped Matt would be too distracted to notice your sudden change in mood.

Matt didn’t notice at first, too caught up in his own whirlwind of thoughts, only none of them were anything like yours. It was only when the coffee pot beeped, alerting that it was finished, that the two of you were ripped from your trances. With shaky hands you filled a mug. Still oblivious, not paying attention to anything beyond how the hell he was gonna get his client to cooperate, he took the cup from your hands. It was when he felt the small tremors in your fingers that he perked up.

At first he thought you were upset, considering that he’d let his bad mood rub off on you, but that possibility was almost instantly eliminated when he took in the rest of you. Your hands had been abnormally warm, your heartbeat stuttering and speeding up, and that smell he knew all too well. You were needy, for whatever reason, and he knew you were already wet.

You gulped, fiddling with your skirt. “Anything else I can do to make it easier?” You asked, trying your hardest to keep your tone appropriately concerned and not desperate. Matt’s eyebrows were furrowed together–god fucking damn it, he was so hot–like he was still frustrated from what happened earlier. No, little did you know, he was trying to figure out how you got so aroused in between the time he left Foggy’s office and now, unless he’d somehow missed it even earlier.

Matt hummed an indication of no, taking a drink of the coffee to ground himself for totally different reasons. “Thank you, I really appreciate this,” he said.

You bit your lip, deciding to lean down and give him a chaste kiss to his lips. Just a taste, that’s all you wanted, all you needed, you told yourself. He eagerly returned it, reaching up to rest his hand on the side of your neck to let you know he didn’t want you to pull away. He was trying his hardest to control himself, but you were so tempting, and you always knew all the right ways to destress him.

An awkward cough echoed in the room and you jumped, pulling away from Matt despite a quiet huff from him. There Foggy stood, clearly still annoyed, but definitely not at you two. “Sorry to interrupt, lovebirds, but I heard the coffee. Matt, hands to yourself, buddy,” he said lightheartedly. He’d walked in on much worse in his three years of knowing you.

With a blush, you licked your lips, trying to savor the lingering taste of your husband. You glanced one last time at Matt before you walked back to your desk and pretended to get back to your work. He definitely knew.

“How you holding up, Fog?” You asked, flipping between the same two pages in the case file like that would exorcize your brain.

“You do not want to know, this guy is probably as big of a nightmare to work with as Castle. He’s not telling the truth about something, I just know it, and it’s making this a whole lot harder than it has to be!” Foggy freely ranted, pouring his coffee much closer to the top than was safe for your floors.

You tried to be sympathetic, you really did, but your will was not that strong and your cunt was soaking your panties. You thought back to last night, when Matt’s cock hitting the back of your throat satisfied every part of you. He was so thick, stretching your lips more than you ever thought you could handle before you met him, and the feeling of him throbbing against your tongue had you whining around his cock. When you finally had him cumming down your throat, it was your turn, Matt throwing you back on the bed so he could worship you between your legs until you couldn’t stand to cum anymore and then some.

“Okay, I know the first two pages aren’t that interesting,” Foggy teased. “If you’re bored you can do something else, you’re not bound to this case forever.”

God, he really should’ve said anything else, because now you were picturing tying Matt’s wrists together, riding him and taking care of him after a long day of bullshit. Leaving scratches down his chest, feeling his hand wrapping around your neck, and forcing his cock as deep as it can go inside of you... The warmth in between your legs exploded into tingles and your face got hotter with each passing fantasy.

Matt tried his hardest to keep himself together, focused entirely on tuning in to your body. He sensed every little reaction, could hear your thighs rubbing and squeezing together behind your desk. He wished Foggy was anywhere but here right now so he could touch you in all the ways you so desperately craved.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, guess I’m not all the way here right now,” you said, brushing off Foggy’s comment, “maybe I need some of that coffee for myself.”

“I got it!” Matt rushed, all too eager to serve you. Foggy rolled his eyes at how lovestruck Matt always seemed to be for you, but deep down he found the pair of you adorable. You were like the power duo, a classic Romeo and Juliet–minus the family feud, the weird age gap, and the suicide.

You slyly stared as Matt poured you a cup. Your eyes trailed up and down his body, taking your time when they landed on his ass. A shiver ran up your spine as you pictured him bent over for you, maybe over your very desk, presented and waiting for you to fill him up. It was a fantasy you’d discussed before, even planned to try out soon, because recently he’d been obsessed with the idea of you fucking him. Using one of your dildos, stretching him out, and filling him up in ways no one else ever had, touching him in ways he’d never let anyone else even think about.

“Thanks, hon,” you said when Matt brought you your coffee. “I’m gonna go finish these up in my office, okay? Let me know if you guys need anything.” You were hoping with a little more privacy you could ease the ache a little bit. You pecked Matt on the cheek and entered your little sanctuary, adorned with a cat calendar and a couple dying succulents.

You closed the door and plopped the small stack of files on your desk. You sat in your rolly chair and leaned back with a sigh that was somewhere between relief and frustration. You pushed your lap all the way under the desk to ensure a little more modesty. You ran your fingers over the front of your skirt at first, letting the small tingles run their way through your body. There was no way Matt couldn’t hear you right now, but part of you was hoping that he was getting as riled up as you were.

Meanwhile, Matt was trying his best to split his attention between you and Foggy, with you clearly dominating. Even with Foggy’s loud ranting and raving about the woes of their client, all he could hear was your shuddering breaths and the rustling of your skirt. The picture was almost crystal clear: you leaned back against your chair, skirt hiked up to your waist, and hand shoved down your panties. He could feel a warm flush of his own traveling lower and lower.

“You know what I mean?” Foggy finished, almost out of breath after his long winded soapbox. Matt quickly snapped out of his trance.

“Hm? Yeah, this guy’s a nightmare, Fog. Hey, why don’t you go on a walk to clear your head?” Matt suggested. He was hoping and praying to every Saint above that he would just leave the office already so he could get his hands on you.

“Maybe later. Let’s just get this done today, I’m sick of this case,” Foggy said.

Deep down, Matt was crying on the inside.

You were too, but for a totally different reason.

Your skirt was well up past your hips and your panties pulled down to stretch across your thighs. Your fingers are slowly stroking the length of your clit to really tease yourself. A shiver reverberates across your body and you let out a small moan. It doesn’t feel nearly as good as Matt’s fingers, but you’re still left melted against your chair.

Matt’s legs are crossed in a desperate attempt to hide his erection from his best friend. He gulps when he can hear a shaky whine slip past your lips. He has to grip the arm of his chair to keep himself grounded.

You’re not oblivious to the effect you’re having on Matt, though you can’t actually see or hear him. Instead you use your imagination. He’s probably fiddling with his tie, one of his nervous habits. His breathing is probably getting heavier, sweat dripping down the back of his neck, and hard cock straining against his dress pants–you throw a hand over your mouth the stifle a moan. Your fingers start rubbing tight circles against your clit, sometimes dipping down to tease your hole every once and a while.

Matt felt like his skin was on fire at this point. How Foggy hadn’t noticed him dying in his chair was beyond him. He was barely able to grit out brief answers to whatever bullshit was being discussed. He could practically taste you from across the office.

You were using both hands at this point, one hand fingering your cunt and the other stroking your clit. You could feel the orgasm building up as your clit pulsed and throbbed from your touches. Flashes of Matt danced across your closed eyelids. Memories of him fucking you up against these very walls, his cock impossibly deep inside of you while you scratched at his back. Him dropping to his knees to tongue fuck your pussy from under your desk while you completed work. You teasing your poor husband as he begged you to finally let you cum after denying him for the third time.

Your heart was pounding against your ribs and you could hardly catch your breath. Your fingers pounded against your spot relentlessly. You were surprised you could stay as quiet as you had been, yet Matt could still hear everything. Your labored breathing, your racing heart, the wet noises of your cunt. He was gripping his knee, so desperate for you, he could hardly stand it. He could tell you were close and that made it all the more painful. He should be the one driving you to the edge, not your hands.

It hit you suddenly, the first wave of your orgasm. The hand rubbing your clit flew up to cover your mouth once more while you fingerfucked yourself through each and every wave of euphoria. You whimpered Matt’s name under your breath as quietly as you could, knowing that it would rile him up even more. It worked, Matt’s cock leaked precum into his boxers.

Once the final wave passed, your muscles collapsed and you sagged against your chair. You pulled out your fingers and limply laid your hand against your thigh. You took deep breaths to ground yourself. You wished Matt was here to help you clean up.

Matt could hear that your breathing had slowed and the wet sounds of your fingers slipping in and out of you had ceased. He matched your slow, deep breaths to bring himself down as much as possible. His cock still painfully throbbed and the flush on his neck refused to go away.

The sound of your clothes rustling, then your office door opening, alerted Matt that you were going to the bathroom to clean up. He lamely excused himself from Foggy and rushed to meet you on your way there. When he stepped out into the main room, you stopped just at the bathroom door and waited for him. He made his way over to you and stood close, nearly right up against you.

“You know I heard that,” Matt breathed into your ear. You couldn’t resist shivering.

“I know, baby. I’m surprised you were able to keep yourself together,” you teased back.

“You know you’re paying for that when we get home, right?”

Your heart jumped at the implication. What did Matt have in store for you? Would you fuck you the minute the two of you passed the threshold, shoving you against a wall and taking what was his? Or would he take you to bed and tease you, going tortuously slow. Would he deny you, making you wait to cum the way you made him wait? Would he refuse to stop, making you cum over and over again until you were shaking and couldn’t cum anymore? Your cheeks burned bright red from all the possibilities.

While you were stuck in thought, Matt gently took the hand that had been inside of you. He raised it up to his lips and slowly took them in his mouth. His tongue swirled around each finger to catch any of your cum that he could. You whined without thinking, definitely too loud to be discreet. Matt slowly pulled your fingers out with a quiet ‘pop’ and dropped your hand back down.

“Just needed a taste, sweetheart,” Matt teased through his grin. “Go clean up and I’ll let Foggy know we’re going home early.”

“Fuck, okay Matt,” you replied. You rushed into the bathroom and all but slammed the door behind you, nervous and excited for whatever your consequences might be.

#Matt Murdock #Matt Murdock x Reader #Matt Murdock Smut #Matt Murdock x Reader Smut #my writing #mine #request

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amberlynnmurdock · 10 months

Text

Blind Faith

Chapter 7: His Wrath

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You unexpectedly do some investigative work when you go out with your friends.

Warnings: angst, mentions of drug use

A/N: I hope you like this angsty chapter! After this, things really pick up, ahh!

Tag list: @starry-night-20 @sumsytee @queerqueenlynn @mattmurdocksstarlight

Hell’s Kitchen

After that night at Josie’s, you felt much more comfortable walking into work at Nelson & Murdock. Mostly because now you knew you were on all three of their good sides—Matt was the most challenging (and honestly, the only challenging) of the bunch to win over. You must’ve said something right at Josie’s because ever since then, Matt’s gone out of his way to greet you in the morning or offer you help on a case. No longer did he simply brush past you with a vague nod of acknowledgment. No longer did he avoid having you in his presence.

One morning, you came to the office earlier than usual to prepare for the day. You locked the door. Karen gave you the key the night before and you took it upon yourself to replenish their kitchen: the office was low on paper plates, styrofoam cups, and coffee. No one asked you to do this. You just wanted to. You wiped the kitchen counter with Lysol—when was the last time anyone cleaned this?—and then you added the new paper plates in the cupboards and stacked the cups next to them. Finally, your favorite part: brewing a fresh pot of coffee.

Suddenly, the creaky front door trying to be opened startled you. You started the brewer and made your way to the door, peering through the window pane to see who it was. It was Matt. You paused before you unlocked the door and let him inside.

You greeted Matt with a smile.

“Good morning, Matt,” you said lightly.

“Mornin’,” he greeted with a hint of a smile. His cane tapped the floor as he stepped in. “You’re here early.”

“Oh, yeah, I wanted to refill the cabinets. I noticed we were low on plates, cups, and coffee.”

Matt smiled as he shrugged off his blazer, and hung it on a coat rack. It felt strange, watching him do this, so you looked away. He leaned his cane against the wall.

“Coffee is a must,” Matt chuckled, “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that. I’ll tell Karen to reimburse you.”

“No worries,” you declined, “consider it repayment for all the drinks from Josie’s.”

Matt’s smile softened. You could almost see his eyes behind his dark red glasses. You realized how you held your hands behind your back, let go of the hold you had, and relaxed a bit. You shared a comfortable moment of silence.

Just as Matt was about to head into his office, he paused.

“Hey, uh,” he began. He had a look on his face like he was choosing his next words carefully. “I noticed you kept the door locked until I got here. You can talk to Karen about having someone open with you if you feel safer that way.”

You thought about it for a moment. It wasn’t a big deal, and you thought nothing of it when you locked it initially—just that it made sense to lock it. But you appreciated Matt’s concern, and his earnestness warmed your heart. For someone who came off as so guarded, he sure did have a soft side. Why didn’t he show it more often?

“Maybe I will,” you said anyway. “Thank you. Oh, did you want some coffee?” You asked as you heard the brewer go off. Matt raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, uh, yes please,” he responded.

“How do you like it?”

“Black.”

For some reason, this made you laugh. Matt had a look of amusement on his face, not sure what was so funny.

“What?” He smiled.

You shrugged your shoulders, “It just makes sense I guess. You taking your coffee black. I don’t know. It seems very appropriate for a defense lawyer. Maybe when I get my law degree and pass the bar, I’ll also be a black coffee drinker.”

Matt laughed at this. You went to pour his coffee and fix your own as well. On second thought, you decided to have it black, too. When you walked out of the kitchen, you expected Matt to be at his desk, but he still stood in the doorway of his office, waiting for you.

He raised his hand to meet you as you handed him his cup. You placed it so it was easy for Matt to wrap his fingers around it. When he did, his fingers just grazed against your own. You tried your best to ignore the feeling.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“I decided to try black as well.”

He grinned. This time, he went into his office and sat at his desk. You blew on your hot cup of coffee and felt the steam warm your face.

Mornings like this didn’t stop. In fact, you purposefully started to come to the office earlier in the morning just so you could have a few moments with Matt. It may seem inappropriate, but your intentions with Matt were innocent. You wanted to learn from him. And something told you Matt shared the same sentiments, to come early in the morning. It wasn’t required of him, but ever since that first morning you shared, he continued coming in early. It sort of became an unspoken rule…or ritual, for the two of you to open early.

You took advantage of the mornings to ask him about his time at Columbia. You picked his brain for his advice on law school and studying. One day, you asked him why he wanted to become a lawyer.

Matt was hesitant at first…like he always was. He clicked his tongue and leaned against the wall, with his hands in his pockets. His tie was a little crooked. You continued to wonder what his eyes looked like behind his dark red glasses. Finally, he answered. And when he did, you immediately understood why he hesitated to answer such a question. You never thought his answer could be so heavy.

“My father,” he started, “He was a boxer. It was just him and I when I grew up. He was a fighter—while he hit the mat, he made me hit the books,” he chuckled a little like he’s told this story before and he never tires of it. “I liked studying. I wanted to make him proud. Especially after…” He drifted off. You smiled softly. You wished he could see you were encouraging him. “He was murdered. Shortly after my accident. He never wanted me to fight like he did. So what better way to fight than by using the law?”

“Wow,” you breathed. “That’s really touching, Matt.”

Matt didn’t respond. He just smiled, rather sadly.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” you added.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

And then, your mornings with him would end when either Karen or Foggy arrived at the office. They never questioned anything, but you weren’t sure they even noticed. And as you sat at your desk, flipping through files and scrolling Westlaw, something occurred to you—Matt probably wasn’t telling them about your mornings, either. It was interesting. And you thought nothing of it more.

Matt came by your desk quite frequently during the day. He was always kind with what he had for you. Could you translate these into Braille? Do you want to go over legal arguments? Could you prep my brief for the hearing? And you gladly did all of it. He could ask you anything and you’d say yes.

⣿⣿⣿⣿ New York City

It’s been a while since you went out with your friends. With studying for the LSAT, starting your job at Nelson & Murdock, and…your secret late-night meetings with Mike, you barely had time for yourself. This weekend though, Foggy practically had to tear your laptop away from your hands so you’d go home and “get in all kinds of trouble with your friends” as he said. You’re not one to argue over having a good time.

You got ready with your friends. It was almost time to head out to the bar. This time, you’d be heading a little uptown, not where you usually go out with them.

“Finally, you’re coming out with us! Gosh, it felt like forever!” Hannah squeezed your thigh in the back of the taxi. You smiled at her.

“I know! I am definitely due for a night out,” you said, feeling the warmth of the tequila settle in your stomach. For some reason, you felt a little nervous going out tonight. Perhaps it had been a while so you forgot “going out etiquette.” You are suddenly worried about things you usually never did—where you were going, how you’d get home, would you be out too late. One glance at your friends and all those worries faded away—everything would be okay, as long as you stuck together.

Besides. You had the phone Mike gave you in your purse. With this in mind, the uneasy feeling in your chest subsided.

When the taxi pulled up at the club Emily had chosen for tonight, you admired its gothic architecture, what you could see of it. It was already dark, but the building had harsh fluorescent lights shining on the front. You could see stained glasses that stretched far up and disappeared where the light couldn’t reach.

“Was this an old Cathedral or something?” You wondered aloud.

“How perceptive,” Emily chides. “Yes.”

It felt wrong, that an old Cathedral was renovated into a club where not so holy things would take place.

Bella bumped into you and squeezed your shoulders.

“Time for an epic night!”

⣿⣿⣿⣿ 11:00 PM

No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t sink the feeling of not really feeling present with your friends at the club.

It’s not that you weren’t having fun with them—you just kept thinking about so many other things you could be doing right now. Foggy let you take home some legal books from the office and you’ve been wanting to start reading those. You could be studying for the LSAT right now. Even the alcohol at this club wasn’t that good. You thought of Josie’s and how much your drinks tasted better when it was made by a middle-aged woman with a permanent scowl on her face than it was when the chiseled bartender with blonde hair made it.

You couldn’t bare to be in there anymore. And something felt wrong, getting drunk in a place that used to be a place of worship. You weren’t that religious, but it still didn’t sit right with you for some reason.

Hannah was dancing with Emily. Bella found Andre and stood by him with a drink. You made a gesture to Hannah to let her know you were going to get fresh air. No. I’ll be good alone.

You met the cool summer breeze instantly as you stepped out of the club. There was a line to get in now. A burly bouncer stood in front of you with his arms crossed.

“Once you leave you have to stand in line again,” he said in a deep voice. You waved him off.

“Whatever,” you muttered.

Walking down the street, away from the crowds of drunk people, you walked slowly and watched your feet in front of you, step by step. You thought of Mike. Despite him coming to see you almost every night, he did remind you that sometimes he’d have to prowl other parts of the city, to make sure people are safe. You understood. You made him promise you that his last stop would always be your apartment, though. But you had a feeling you wouldn’t see him tonight, even though you wanted to.

You reached the end of the street. It was quiet, uptown. Completely different from being downtown where there was always something going on at each corner. Uptown had more of a neighborhood and less of a nightlife. The corner of the street read West 61st and Tenth.

Squinting your eyes, you cocked your head, staring at the street sign as if it were in another language. Why did that seem so familiar?

And then it dawned on you. Ms. Cruz! One of Nelson & Murdock’s newer clients. The older woman in the dangerous apartment building. The one where the landlord wouldn’t do anything unless there was proof. How sick of him, to make an old woman put herself in danger like that. It was a very rundown building, from what you remember reading in her file, and she was basically the only trusted adult in the building. However…

No. You told yourself. Matt said to keep work and life separate. To not get involved.

But… you were right here. On her street. With a phone that could take photos and videos. This is the proof Ms. Cruz needed for something to get done!

And… you weren’t clocked in at Nelson & Murdock. You could do whatever you wanted. You thought of Mike—what would he do? He’d go in there and take care of it himself. Why shouldn’t you?

You couldn’t specifically remember her building address, but it was clear enough which rundown apartment building it was. Smack in the center of the street, the only building not connected to the other brownstones that lined up. Another indicator was the people in a haze, drugged out of their minds laying on the ground and lining the steps. No one seemed to notice you, until you felt a greasy hand grab onto your arm, digging into your skin.

“Hey!” You yelped lowly, so as to not wake the other people sleeping.

“Are you the dealer they sent?” An old man asks you. You yanked out of his grasp and ignored him, walking into the building. Jesus. It shouldn’t have been that easy to get inside. You quickly took notes on your phone of what you saw. The people in a haze who needed help, the lack of security system to get into the building. Half-broken steps, ripped wallpaper. You shook your head, remembering that Ms. Cruz said kids lived here, too. You took pictures of what you saw and felt your arm sting from when the man grabbed you. It looks like he left a mark.

There was booming music coming from an apartment above. You stepped over another sleeping person, a woman, and walked upstairs slowly. You gasped again when she grabbed your ankle, tugging gently.

“Are you an angel?” She asked with half-moon eyes. You pulled your ankle of out her grasp and continued to walk up the steps to the second floor of the building. You continued to snap pictures on your phone and even managed to take a video of the hallway. The lights made everything look like a sea green. You covered your nose with your arm to block out the stench. There were dirty towels everywhere, and in the distance, you could hear children laughing. You shook your head. This is no place for a child to grow up.

Up another flight of stairs, you saw the first door ajar. There was a TV flashing, but no noise came from it. You took a deep breath—out of fear or to block out the stench, you weren’t sure—and slightly pushed it open to reveal a man asleep, half naked on the couch, his arm tightly tied with a white tee shirt. You snapped a picture and hurriedly closed the door.

“You ain’t what I ordered,” a drunken loll comes from your side. There’s a man standing in between a doorway, his belly hanging out over his underwear and a cigarette in his hand. “But you’ll do.”

You immediately dashed down the stairs, jumping over the new bodies that have taken a seat, and run out of the apartment building, nearly out of breath as you make your way back to the club. You leaned against the building of the Cathedral, wishing it were a real place of worship and not a renovated club with trashy music and a liquor license. In the distance up at the top, you see a statue of an angel, looking down at you.

⣿⣿⣿⣿ Office of Nelson & Murdock 10 AM

It’s raining.

You walked all the way to Nelson & Murdock under a black umbrella, counting your steps until you arrived at the rusty red door with the golden and black plaque that read Nelson & Murdock. You decided to come in later to share what you “worked” on over the weekend when everyone was there. You skipped your early morning with Matt to do so.

Entering the building, you shook off the water from your umbrella and leaned it in the hall. You wiped your shoes on the carpet and made your way up to the office. You could already smell the coffee Karen was brewing. Delighted to see no clients yet, you were hopeful for a calm, productive work day.

“Good morning!” Karen beamed at you. “Coffee’s done. Feel free to fix a cup for yourself. Foggy also got bagels for us to brighten this rainy Monday.”

You smiled at her and hung your raincoat on the rack. In the corner of your eye, you saw Matt step out of his office. Foggy came in from the conference room.

“I’m sure Foggy has the power to brighten even the darkest of days,” you said under your breath to Karen. She giggled behind her cup and took a sip.

You poured yourself some coffee, black, and cut a bagel in half, setting the toaster for five minutes. Entering the room again, Foggy looked at you expectantly with a smile.

“Thanks for the bagels,” you raised your cup in acknowledgment. “I didn’t get a chance to stop for breakfast so this is perfect.”

“Ain’t no thang,” Foggy waved his hand. “So. How was everyone’s weekend?”

“Same old,” Karen shrugged. “Caught up on sleep, finally.”

“Ha,” Foggy laughed, “same. Marci and I stayed in. I don’t party like I used to anymore. Matt?”

“Same here,” Matt agreed, almost like he didn’t even think of the question.

“I bet __ here had the most interesting weekend of us all. She’s the partier, I know it! Ahh, I miss my college days…” Foggy trailed off. “How was your weekend?” He asked you.

Well, it was now or never. Part of you was excited to let them know you did some investigative work, the other part was unsure of how they would react. Matt seemed more interested in the conversation now, by the way he turned to face you. A hint of a smile on his lips.

“On Friday I went out with my friends. Some Cathedral turned club uptown. I’d never been before. I didn’t care for the way they renovated it,” you trailed off, biting your lip. Karen looked at you inquisitively and Foggy waited for you to finish. Matt’s face was unreadable.

“But actually, I ended up doing a bit of work while I was there,” you admitted. Karen raised her eyebrows while Foggy nodded his head.

“Oh? Really?” Karen asked. Matt placed his hands on his waist.

“So like I said, I didn’t really care for the club. I wasn’t even that drunk—er, sorry, I think I can talk like that to you guys?—anyway, I left for some fresh air and started walking up the street and then I noticed the street I was on—it was the same as where Ms. Cruz lives.”

You waited for their reactions. Foggy and Karen listened intently. You glanced at Matt, whose face was as hard as the ground you stood on. When you told them you snuck into the apartment to take pictures, they all fell silent. Karen and Foggy shared a nervous glance and you were stunned to see Matt react first.

“You what?” His brows scrunched in disbelief, his frown ever apparent on his face. You stuttered as Karen sat up from her seat and Foggy shifted uncomfortably.

“I went inside and sort of scoped the place out,” you answered weakly. “But don’t worry! I—I didn’t—”

“Oh my, God,” Karen said in realization as she walked over to you and touched your arm. Apparently, the man had grabbed you harder than you thought, and there was a large black and blue bruise that wrapped around near your elbow. It looked like a tattoo.

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing. I didn’t even realize—“

“You mean this is from when you went inside? Someone grabbed you?” Karen asked, gasping. She gently ran her fingers over the bruise.

“What?” Matt asked “What—you’re bruised? Jesus Christ, __, were you even thinking?!” Matt bellowed as he shook his head. You were taken aback by his harshness. You were expecting them to possibly be unhappy, at least Karen and Foggy were, but Matt looked like he was about to punch a wall, to say the least. His face was as red as his glasses. You were speechless.

“Matt—“ Foggy protested, in an attempt to calm down his partner, his friend. Your heart hammered in your chest and you felt your body begin to shake.

“Do you realize how much danger you put yourself in? And none of us knew? You didn’t think to consult with us before you did something like that?” Matt continued, hammering into your sensitivity. You began to speak but he stopped you again. He raised a finger at you like you were some child.

“Not to mention, entirely illegal,” Matt huffed. “You thought putting yourself in danger like that was helping our case? It could’ve put this firm in jeopardy, along with your life,” Matt ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Could you—could you imagine what that would’ve done to us if you…” he trailed off, in anger or disappointment, you didn’t know. Hearing his words reminded you of the feeling you get when you have a sore throat. No matter what you eat, tasteless or sweet, it’s all hard to swallow. And it hurts. It really fucking hurts.

His hands balled into fists. The toaster dinged, causing you to jump.

“I—I’m sorry,” you whispered, like a child who just got caught doing something bad. Matt almost looked at you but stopped himself.

“Matt,” Foggy clenched his jaw. “My office. Now.” Matt ignored him, walking into his own office and slamming the door behind him. You jumped again at the sound. Without thinking, clearly you were good at that, you grabbed your raincoat and went right outside the building, to be alone.

Karen followed you down—you heard the door open and shut behind you. You leaned against the brick building in the rain. Karen looked around and saw you standing, face in your hands.

“Hey,” she cooed, placing a hand on your shoulder, “he didn’t mean any of that. Believe me.”

“He looked pretty convincing,” you muttered. “I didn’t know it was such a big deal. I thought I was helping.” Tears trailed down your cheeks. You wiped them in embarrassment. You hated crying. It took a lot to make you cry. Matt made it look so easy.

Karen’s blue eyes softened. She was so kind, you thought. She smiled a little. “You did help. Just between you and me, I would’ve done the same thing and…and I have, before.”

You looked at her curiously.

She took a deep breath and bit her lip.

“There’s a reason why Matt got so upset with you. A few years ago, back when Fisk had this city wrapped around his finger, a woman came into our office. We were barely a firm then. Her name was Elena Cardenas,” she explained, “she had a very similar situation to Ms. Cruz. One night, I went to her apartment complex alone, with nothing but a can of mace,” Karen laughed at the memory, “but on the way out, the criminal element that was mentioned in her case followed me. Two guys cornered me and if Foggy hadn’t of followed me and fought them with a baseball bat…I don’t know what could’ve happened. And later, Ms. Cardenas was murdered by that same criminal element.”

You shook your head in sadness, feeling sorry for Ms. Cardenas, Ms. Cruz…

“I’m sorry, Karen,” you sniffed, feeling comfortable to be vulnerable with her. “I didn’t know the stakes were that high. I was just trying to help.”

“I know,” she comforted, grabbing your hand and squeezing. “Believe me, I’m honestly proud of what you did. Matt is just…” she struggled to find the words, “he cares a lot about us. Despite what you may think. He’s been through a lot with… Fisk… all of our lives have been in danger before because of him. He doesn't want that to happen to you.”

You stayed silent.

“I know Matt could’ve handled that a lot better and I definitely will be talking to him about that,” Karen spoke with conviction, “but try to understand where he’s coming from.”

You nodded. You did understand, completely. But still, it was shocking to be yelled at like that. Scolded at. What happened to all those quiet mornings you shared with him? His softness you finally had gotten used to? It seemed like now you were back to square one.

Karen let you go home for the rest of the day. You ignored your friends who sat in the living room. You feigned illness, saying you suddenly felt sick and went home early. You threw off your work clothes and slid into bed, burying yourself under blankets and pillows.

⣿⣿⣿⣿ 10:30 PM

Matt didn’t want to see you tonight. But then again, he did. He had to. It was him, Matt Murdock, your boss, who got angry with you today. Not Mike, your savior.

After you left, Foggy came bursting into Matt’s office yelling at him for snapping at you. Matt remembers he was having an out-of-body experience when Foggy scolded him.

“She’s… young! She’s learning! She’s great here and you probably made her never want to step foot into this office again!”

Matt shook his head at the memory, feeling the thought of you claw at his heart. He knows he shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. It didn’t make sense, why was your boss getting so worked up over you putting yourself in danger? He almost exposed himself to you by the way he reacted. If only you knew. If only he told you from the beginning who he was.

The truth is that his anger came from trauma. He can’t have the same bad things that happened in the past happen to you. He was supposed to protect you from that.

And tonight, you were likely expecting him, Mike, to come to your rooftop. Regardless, he knew he had to see you.

He had to.

⣿⣿⣿⣿

11:00 PM

You woke to a strange, soft tapping on your window. You looked around your room—the door was closed. The lights were off outside, so you knew everyone else retreated to their own rooms. In a daze, you turned your bedside lamp and listened for the tapping again. It was coming from your window, and from there, you saw him. Mike. Crouched on your fire escape, arm resting on his knee. You struggled out of bed and wobbled over to unlock the window.

“So this is how we’re meeting now?” You asked him in a groggy state.

“You missed our slot up there,” he said quietly. Starting to become more awake, you let him inside. Mike softly shut the window behind him.

“You have to be quiet, someone might wake,” you whispered.

“They’re asleep,” he simply states. “Trust me.”

You plop onto your bed. He stays standing, a dark silhouette.

“I’m tired,” you softly speak. “I had a rough day.”

Mike kneels before you and kisses your knee. He clenches his jaw before he speaks. And when he does, his voice sounds strained.

“What happened?”

“I’d rather not talk about it. Just know I fucked up somehow, and I got my ass handed to me,” you explained. Mike dropped his head a little, before looking up at you again, behind that black mask.

“I can go,” Mike said, taking your hand. “If you’re tired.”

You don’t reply. You nod your head and slide back under the covers. Mike turns your lamp off for you. You want him to stay. You want him to take that goddamn mask off and join you in your bed. But he stays, towering over you. You sigh into your pillow, feeling the heavy weight of sleep overcome you. You hear him whisper something.

“I’m sorry.”

And you want to ask him what he’s sorry about, but you’ve already fallen asleep.

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