angst-cravings

[angst-cravings]

Underneath the Mistletoe

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: Tired of enduring the obvious pining between you and Matt, Foggy and Karen plan a way to get you and Matt to admit your feelings - or at least to kiss.

Warnings/tags: Nothing but holiday fluff and first kisses

a/n: Finally I managed to get a holiday fic written with everything going on here for me for at least one of my boys! This one grew longer than anticipated but I hope y'all enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18

Walking in step beside Foggy with her heels clacking along the sidewalk, Karen twirled the branch of mistletoe in her hand, her eyes transfixed on it as it spun. A soft laugh lightly fell from her lips as she shook her head at the fresh clipping. Glancing over her shoulder, she shot Foggy a questioning look beside her. The movement caught his attention and he shifted towards her, catching her eye in return.

“What?” Foggy asked. “What's with that look?”

Karen raised her hand, holding out the mistletoe towards him. One blonde brow rose up onto her forehead skeptically as she eyed him.

“I don't know, Fog,” she mused. “Do you really think this is going to accomplish anything tonight?”

Foggy let out a huff as he reached out, snatching the branch from her hand. He glared playfully back at Karen as Josie’s bar came into view farther down the block.

“Of course it is!” he exclaimed. “Because it's mistletoe , Karen! When two people stand under it, they are required to kiss.”

Karen rolled her eyes, waving a dismissive hand at him. “I know what it is, Fog,” she replied. “But do you think it'll actually get them to kiss? Or even go so far as to admit that they have feelings for each other?”

“It has to,” Foggy answered firmly. “Because I for one am personally tired of Matt making plans to come to Josie’s on specific nights after work, at specific times, just to run into our pretty new friend who often comes here alone because she's quite clearly smitten by our dear, frustrating Matthew. I mean, aren't you tired of watching all the obvious pining, too?”

Karen expelled an audible breath, a wispy cloud of water vapor forming in the air in front of her before it dispersed into the frigid night. Running a gloved hand through her hair, she nodded.

“Yeah, I am,” she agreed. “I mean it's so clear that she's interested in him with the way her eyes are always glued to him whenever he's around. Always smiling at him. And Matt is always finding ways to flirt with her. Or constantly inviting her to meet us back at Josie’s whenever he can–there's absolutely no way he can deny it, either. There's clearly something there.”

“So tonight we'll just…help them along,” Foggy told her, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Right? Just to get them to stop dancing around their feelings with a little, festive nudge. That's all.”

Slowly, a devious smile spread itself across Karen’s lips as the pair came to a stop in front of the bar. Foggy shot Karen a conspiratorial wink before he opened the door to the bar, a burst of warm air wafting out immediately. He waved her inside before following after her, his eyes scanning the room for Josie. The moment he spotted her behind the bar he held up the branch of mistletoe in the air high above his head.

“Josie!” he called out. 

Behind the bar, Josie’s head darted up from the bottle of beer she was opening for a patron. When recognition dawned on her face at who had called for her, she shot the pair of them a flat look. 

“What do you want, Nelson?” she called back.

“Two beers and your permission to hang this up in your fine establishment,” Foggy answered her, waving the mistletoe above his head again. 

Josie eyed the branch for a moment before dramatically rolling her eyes. “Whatever,” she shot back, focusing back on opening the bottle of beer. “Just as long as you aren't expecting me to kiss you tonight.”

“Aww, Josie,” Foggy cooed, “you wound me so! And on such a magical evening no less.”

“Pay your tab and it'll be a magical evening,” Josie quipped back.

Beside Foggy, Karen threw a hand over her mouth as a giggle bubbled up out of her. Foggy shot Karen yet another playful glare before he led the way over towards the bar, eager to see how the night would unfold.

“Ugh, it was such a good look on his face, too!” Foggy exclaimed, slamming his palm onto the small wooden table for emphasis. “I mean, when Matt dropped that line to the jury, you could just see the color drain from Samson's face! It was beautiful !”

A smile pulled at the corner of your lips as you glanced down at the bottle of beer before you. You'd made your way through the flurry of snowflakes outside once you'd left your office, walking all the way over to Josie’s just so you could meet up with the three lawyers you'd strangely come to befriend here over the past few months. 

The three of them often loved to celebrate their wins in court here, something you had quickly found yourself invited to as if you'd always been part of the group–or the law firm of Nelson, Murdock, and Page itself–instead of just having been the woman at the bar Foggy had once accidentally spilled a drink on before insisting that he buy you your next drink to apologize. After that night when you'd met his friends, you usually found yourself joining them at this little dive bar on a weekly basis. 

And it was no surprise to you that the three of them would be here again this evening because you'd seen them here only two nights ago when Matt himself had asked if you'd join them again. It was quite a confident gesture of him to invite you out to celebrate their win already that night, too, considering the trial hadn’t even happened yet–though confidence bordering on cockiness seemed the norm when it came to Matthew Murdock. Initially you hadn't been planning to come out tonight, but the moment his red lenses had focused on you from across the table and he had flashed you that charming smile on his handsome face, you knew you'd change your plans just to spend another few hours in his presence. You couldn't exactly resist the attractive lawyer who was always flashing smiles in your direction, and he often wasn't far from your mind whenever you weren’t here. 

But of course you'd never admit that. 

“It was pretty entertaining, I'll agree,” Karen replied.

Across the table from you, Matt shifted in his chair. The moment his knee brushed yours underneath the table, your hand tightened around your beer bottle. Inhaling a sharp breath, you sat entirely still in your seat, glad Matt couldn't see your reaction. Though you could feel the heat rising up your neck as your knee felt like it was pleasantly tingling from the brief contact with his. Across from you, Matt cleared his throat, one of his large hands rising from the table and tugging at the collar of his tie. You fought hard to not openly stare at his fingers as they pulled at the fabric, a tight smile slipping onto his lips.

“If only I could have witnessed it,” Matt added.

Internally you agreed. You could only imagine what it would be like to see Matt in action, delivering such powerful and impassioned speeches that you'd only ever drunkenly heard him recite in bits and pieces after the fact at Josie’s. You'd love to see him with his tie done up tight and his suit jacket on, his broad shoulders squared in that confident manner he had as he walked around the courtroom as if he owned it. Which you knew he must do in court because you saw him do it every time he entered this bar. 

And it never failed to turn you on.

You knew it was stupid and foolish, but you wanted him horribly; you always had ever since the night he held out his hand to you and told you his name. He was a beautiful mystery, always so observant for a man lacking one of his senses. And he was charming and flirtatious, which often threw you off even though you assumed it was just his personality. Admittedly you had a crush on him, one you were too afraid to ever confess because he seemed far too out of your league. 

“Hey,” Foggy said, cutting through your thoughts, “what do you all say to a game of pool tonight? Guys against gals?”

Attention shifting to Foggy who was sitting beside Matt, you noticed the way his eyes were darting around the three of you. Eyes narrowing curiously for a moment, you wondered what was with the look he seemed to keep shooting Karen. Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Matt’s dark brow rise curiously above his glasses as if he somehow had also detected something strange in the way Foggy had suggested the game of pool. 

“I don't know,” you began slowly, eyeing the three of them. “I think maybe tonight I'll sit the game out. I'm pretty worn out from work today, I don't think I’m up for a game.”

Foggy’s eyes immediately went wide, his mouth falling open as he gaped at you. Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth awkwardly as you sent him a sheepish smile.

“Oh come on!” Foggy pressed. “It’ll be fun! I promise!”

“Sorry,” you muttered, shrugging lightly. “Not tonight for me.”

Foggy opened his mouth as if he was about to immediately protest, but you felt a hand lightly land on your shoulder. Glancing to your left, you spotted Karen shooting you a wide smile as her piercing blue eyes locked onto yours.

“That’s alright, Fog,” Karen said quickly. “You boys can play a game and the two of us can watch and chat. Right?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” you stammered out, confused about the way she was eyeing you while Foggy was staring intensely at the side of her head. “That–that sounds good.”

“Great!” Karen exclaimed as her hand released your shoulder and she slid her chair back. “Let’s go grab another table then.”

Brows furrowed together, you carefully pushed your chair back and rose to your feet along with everyone else. Reaching a hand out, you grabbed your drink from off the table before making your way around it. Though it didn’t escape your notice that Matt still seemed to be wearing a similar look of skepticism on his face. Clearly you weren’t the only one thinking the two seemed off tonight.

Silently you followed behind Karen as she picked out an empty table just beside the pool table and gracefully slid into the seat, sending you a friendly smile as she caught your eye. You returned the gesture, slowly slipping into the seat across from her as Foggy led Matt towards the pool table. Almost involuntarily your eyes flew over to Matt when you saw him set his drink down and begin rolling up his dress sleeves while you settled into your chair. You always did enjoy seeing his muscular forearms covered in those dark hairs, but unfortunately because it was December, he didn’t often roll them up. Though something above his head caught your eye as he was rolling up his left sleeve and you glanced up.

Eyes widening in surprise, you stared at the branch of mistletoe hanging directly above him. That was the last thing you’d have expected to find at Josie’s. She certainly didn’t seem like the type of woman who’d go hanging holiday decorations of any sort in her bar, let alone mistletoe . You were suddenly even more grateful that you’d decided not to play pool tonight so you wouldn’t have to avoid standing beneath it all night. 

“So,” Karen began, the conspiratorial lowering of her voice drawing your eye back to her as she leaned forward towards you, “there’s something I’ve been dying to know for awhile and we never really get a chance to chat as just us girls so I haven't had the opportunity to ask.”

Raising your beer bottle to your lips, you took a deep drink from it under the weight of Karen’s stare. You had a feeling you’d need the liquid courage for whatever question she was about to ask you. Swallowing the drink down, you soon cleared your throat, fighting to keep your gaze on Karen and not Matt as he let out a bark of laughter that had your stomach squirming. He always looked unbelievably handsome with a broad smile spread over his beautiful lips–a look you enjoyed seeing on him. It was difficult not to glance at the sight.

“What’s uh, what’s on your mind?” you asked hesitantly. 

Her dark pink lips curled ever higher as she leaned further forward, placing her elbows onto the table. Her head tilted a bit to the side, a few strands of blonde hair falling forward and framing her face. The angelic appearance wasn’t fooling you though and your stomach twisted nervously.

“Do you like Matt?” she asked bluntly.

It felt like your heart stopped as the sound of billiard balls clacking together on the nearby pool table rang through your ears. Your lips parted in surprise before you could mask your reaction. Despite the fact that you had a feeling she was going to ask you something along those lines, hearing the question aloud still startled you. Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Matt’s head turn in the direction of your table. Though there was absolutely no way he could’ve overheard Karen with how quietly she’d asked the question, but that didn’t stop the heat from once again rising up your neck and reaching your face.

“Oh, well, of course,” you replied awkwardly, pushing a few strands of hair from your face as you focused on your beer bottle. “I like all of you. That's–that's why I'm always here hanging out with you three.”

Nervously glancing up from under your lashes, you saw Karen’s face twist into a look that clearly said that wasn't what she'd meant at all. You shot her a nervous smile, hoping she wouldn't push it. Though as you grabbed your bottle of beer and brought it to your lips for another pull, it was obvious she wasn't letting this go.

“I don't mean do you like Matt as a friend,” she clarified. “I meant are you interested in him? Romantically speaking?”

Nearly choking as you swallowed your drink, you covered your mouth as you coughed into your hand. You weren't getting out of answering this apparently. It didn't help that it seemed both Foggy and Matt were glancing at your table as you sputtered on the beer, both of them shooting you curious and questioning looks. Across the table, Karen continued to smile innocently back at you as she waited for you to recover.

A few moments later you did, trying to wipe your now clammy hands on the thighs of your dress pants. Your eyes dropped down to the sticky wooden table as you thought about how to answer. Surely she wouldn't believe you if you said no considering the knowing look she was currently giving you. And if you answered truthfully but quietly there was no way Matt should be able to overhear the conversation at least. Right?

At the thought of him, your eyes nervously darted over to the pool table. Matt was lining up a shot, bent in half over the table and angling the cue in his hands.

“It's sort of hard not to like him like that,” you replied softly, eyes still lingering on him. “I mean he's…sweet. And funny. And incredibly smart and self-assured. Confident. Obviously very handsome. But I mean he's…”

Your voice trailed off, your attention still on Matt as he remained bent over the pool table. Brows lightly furrowing, it seemed like he was taking longer than usual to make his shot. A glance at Foggy beside him had you thinking he'd noticed it, too. Briefly you wondered what he was doing until Karen’s voice broke through your thoughts. 

“He's what?” she pressed. 

Sighing, your attention returned to your almost empty bottle of beer. Unclasping a hand from your lap, you reached out and grabbed the neck of the bottle. You shrugged lightly, unable to meet her gaze.

“Too far out of my league,” you muttered. 

Drawing the bottle up to your lips, you finished the last of the beer. As you lowered the empty bottle back to the table, swallowing down your drink, you spotted Karen shooting Foggy a look. You couldn't possibly have been imagining it now, clearly they were up to something. But before you could figure out what, Karen spun back around in her seat and shot you a bright smile.

“Look at that, you already finished your drink. How about I get the next round of drinks before we continue this conversation?” she offered.

She quickly pushed her chair back before you could reply, her attention focusing on Matt and Foggy. Eyebrows drawing together, a nervous feeling swirled in your stomach, mingling with the alcohol. 

“You boys need another round of beers?” Karen called over to them. “On me this time, in honor of our win earlier today?”

Matt's head tilted a bit to the side as he focused on her. “Oh, I don't–”

“Of course!” Foggy exclaimed loudly, cutting Matt off as he clapped him on the shoulder. “And you know what? I'll come with and help you grab them.”

Before you even knew what was happening, Foggy was waving you over enthusiastically with a hand. That nervous feeling only grew in your stomach when Karen turned, glancing over her shoulder at you with that bright smile that was clearly meant to be hiding something as Foggy called out your name. 

“Why don’t you come keep Matt company?” Foggy suggested. “And you know, make sure he doesn't cheat to win this game while I'm gone.”

Matt audibly scoffed, shaking his head and countering the accusation immediately. But you weren't paying too much attention to their playful banter as you awkwardly rose to your feet and began making your way over towards Matt. Instead, your eyes were occasionally darting up and eyeing that damn bit of mistletoe that Matt was once again standing directly beneath. Which was why you intentionally came to a stop at the corner of the pool table, trying to keep some distance between you, Matt, and that little bit of mistletoe. 

Though what you hadn't accounted for was Karen stumbling in her heels behind you and accidentally bumping into you, pushing you the few steps forward where you tripped directly into Matt. His hands swiftly darted out and grabbed onto your upper arms, steadying you as you tried to catch your balance. And when you finally did, you abruptly realized your own hands had flown to Matt’s very firm, solid chest to stop your fall. Your face flamed from embarrassment and you quickly withdrew them from him, crossing them over your chest awkwardly. But Matt's hands remained on your arms, keeping you close as the warmth of them seeped through the sleeves of your blouse.

“I am so sorry,” Karen suddenly began apologizing behind you. “My heel must've caught on something along the floor. I didn't mean to do that!”

“It's alright,” you replied, your face still burning as you gazed at the handsome face before you. “But uh, sorry for accidentally running into you, Matt.”

His hands slowly began to release their hold on you, that charming smile returning to his face as he remained focused on you. With how close you were standing to him, you could feel your heart slamming harder in your chest. He was just so unfairly attractive.

“Don't worry about it, sweetheart,” he assured you. 

For a moment you stood there staring back at Matt's smiling face, almost feeling mesmerized by the expression on it. But a loud gasp from just beside Matt broke you out of your staring and caused you to glance over his shoulder at Foggy. Your pulse jumped when you caught him pointing a finger at the mistletoe hanging directly above Matt and yourself. Before you had a chance to move, finally remembering that you'd been trying to avoid the damn thing, the words were already coming out of his mouth.

“It appears you and Matt have found yourself beneath some mistletoe!” Foggy exclaimed. 

Before you, Matt's head cocked to the side as his brows drew beneath his dark lenses. For some reason the smile on his face only grew wider as his covered gaze remained fixed on you.

“We have?” Matt asked curiously. 

“Oh, yes!” Karen added from your other side, pointing a finger up at the branch hanging from the ceiling. “Foggy’s right!”

A light laugh slipped out of Matt, the warmth of it raising goosebumps along your arms as you felt rooted to the spot in front of him. You weren't sure if you should move or not; whether you should attempt to run away and come up with some excuse as to why he didn't need to kiss you. But it didn't help that part of you was hoping he'd somehow want to kiss you.

“I find it quite interesting that our dear Josie would put up mistletoe in her bar,” Matt mused aloud. “She doesn't seem the type.”

“Well either way,” Foggy cut in with an awkward laugh, “it's there! And you're both standing beneath it! So you know what that means! I mean it is tradition after all.”

Eyes growing wide, you openly gaped at Foggy and Karen as she came to stand beside him, a glint of something reflecting back at you in her eyes. Your lips parted as a rush of questions raced through your mind. Had they been the ones to put up the mistletoe? Were they doing it to get you and Matt to kiss? And if that was why they'd been acting so strange tonight– why ? Why would they want you two to kiss?

The sound of Matt clearing his throat brought you back to the moment. Your mouth was still hanging open as you focused back on him, noticing the almost nervous smile now spread on his face. Why did he look nervous?

“Fog uh…has a point,” Matt said, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “It is tradition for two people to kiss underneath mistletoe.”

You could feel your pulse jumping in your throat at his words as behind him you noticed Foggy and Karen quietly making their way over to the bar, leaving you alone with Matt. As your gaze fell back on him before you, your mouth opened and closed a few times while you struggled to form a coherent sentence until one suddenly blurted out of you. 

“You want to kiss me?”

Your eyes instantly grew somehow wider at the question, your hand flying over your mouth to keep any further stupid thoughts from coming out of it. An adorable grin tugged at Matt's lips at your question, a small chuckle slipping out of him. Behind your hand, your teeth clamped down onto your bottom lip in sheer embarrassment. 

“Well, if we're being honest,” Matt began, one hand readjusting the glasses on his nose, “then I should admit I've wanted to kiss you for weeks now. The mistletoe is just…oddly convenient.”

Swallowing hard, you tried to control your breathing which had begun to come in shallower at his confession. He'd wanted to kiss you for weeks now? That fact had your heart hammering heavily in your chest as nerves raced through your body. You could feel your stomach flipping anxiously as you stood there entirely unsure how to respond. 

“But we uh, we certainly don't have to,” Matt said slowly, breaking the silence that had fallen between the pair of you. “I don't want to make you uncomfortable and ruin things between us.”

Feeling your opportunity to let him know how you felt slipping away, your hand flew from your mouth, hovering in the air between the pair of you as a loud ‘no!’ flew from your lips. The way Matt tilted his head at you, his brows rising up on his forehead as that grin returned to his face, had your cheeks once more burning tonight. But you couldn't let this moment slip past your fingers, not with how long you'd been thinking about it. 

“I'd like to,” you admitted awkwardly. “I mean I–I’ve wanted to–to kiss you, too.” You paused when the grin on his face grew wider, your stomach somersaulting at the sight. “Because I…I kind of have a crush on you…”

“Yeah?” he asked, head still canted to the side. “That's fortunate for me since I have a crush on you.”

“Seriously?” you whispered in disbelief.

Matt nodded, that boyish and charming grin growing ever wider on his lips. The lips you suddenly couldn't seem to take your eyes off of.

“Mhmm,” he hummed out. 

“I never knew…” you murmured, voice trailing off.

As you stood there trying to wrap your head around what he'd told you, Matt took a step closer towards you, closing the small bit of space. He reached around you, his arm almost grazing yours as he leant his pool cue up against the table. 

“So about that mistletoe,” Matt mused, lightly placing his hands on your upper arms again as he leaned towards you, causing your heart to skip. “We should…probably kiss, right?”

Your eyelids fluttered as you stared back at him, your breath catching in your throat with every inch he seemed to be drawing nearer to you. It was taking your brain far too long to comprehend what was happening, let alone to form much of a response besides the quiet ‘yes’ that slipped out of you. 

Matt's right hand released your arm and instead came up to cup your cheek. Gingerly he tilted your head, bringing your mouth in towards his as he finally closed the last remaining distance between the pair of you. The moment his lips touched yours, your eyes snapped shut.

At first his lips merely brushed against yours in a warm, gentle graze. The feeling sent a rush of excitement through your entire body as your hands flew up, gripping both of his muscular arms to steady yourself. He pulled back only a fraction from you before your lips were chasing after his, desperate for more than that soft, teasing touch.

He obliged instantly as if he knew–or had maybe heard the faint whimper of protest you'd made–and dove back forward again, connecting his mouth to yours with a bit more tenacity than before. His hand cupping your cheek held you more firmly to him as his plush lips passionately moved against yours in a way that left you gasping for air in the brief moments your mouths parted before inevitably connecting again. 

For a while neither of you seemed able to tear yourself away from the other, entirely oblivious to the entire bar around the pair of you. Your fingers had curled around the fabric of his dress shirt, gripping tight as you tried to hold yourself up. It felt like you were losing yourself entirely in Matt the longer the pair of you kissed and if you let go, you were afraid you might actually lose your balance.

Which was why it took you a minute to regain your composure when Matt finally broke the kiss. He only moved back a few inches from your face, his warm breath brushing gently over your lips as they remained parted. It was a moment before your eyelids fluttered open, taking in the sight of his smiling face before you. His lips seemed pinker as they glistened with both your saliva, the thought of which had a heat building low inside of you.  

“Can I maybe walk you home tonight?” he whispered. 

“Yes,” you replied automatically.

“And can I take you to dinner on Friday night?” he asked next. “Would that be alright?”

You nodded slowly, your eyes focused on his beautiful mouth. “Yes,” you whispered back. 

Matt's smile grew a little wider as his thumb brushed along your cheekbone. Your whole body felt like it was trembling now, your legs fighting not to give out beneath you. Your hands tightened further on his dress shirt, wrinkling the material. 

“And can I kiss you again?” he questioned.

You nodded again, this time more enthusiastically. “Please,” you breathed out. 

An amused chuckle slipped out of him as he leaned forward towards you once more. Out of the corner of your eye, just before you'd closed them again, you swore you saw Karen and Foggy exchanging a high five at the bar. But you forgot about that the moment Matt's lips were back on yours, kissing you more fervently than before as he backed you up against the pool table behind you.

[angst-cravings]

working on something. trying to get it out by the 23rd because it's ~*~festive~*~ but we shall see. trying to hold myself accountable lol

[angst-cravings]

candy necklace

summary: you find a candy necklace and decide to wear it for matt. groping ensues.

pairing: matt murdock x f!reader

words: 2.2k

an: smut (18+, mdni), pwp, fem & afab but no use of pronouns, and no use of y/n, also my first smut ever

based on a tik tok post that has since been deleted </3

cw: sex, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, p in v penetration

Matt had been having a hard time at his job lately. Both jobs. He had papers and folders in the living room messily strewn around him, and dark bruises were peeking out from his lazily rolled-up sleeves. The stress was oozing off of him and permeating the air. It was almost thick with tension, and he felt it suffocating him. His face falls into his hands, and he sighs deeply.

You were going out with your friends tonight, and half of him was disappointed, but half was relieved. He hated it when you saw him like this. When you were gone, you could be carefree and enjoy yourself. And not worry about him. 

He heard you rustling in the other room to get dressed. The softest hint of perfume hit him, along with… sugar? His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, distracting him from the weight on his back. 

You pad barefoot into the living room, adjusting your necklace so the tie is on the back of your neck. 

“Do you want to feel my dress to get an idea of how I look? It’s black.” You walk towards him, smiling. Matt directs his head towards you and returns the smile. You can see the bags under his eyes, and his brown eyes almost light up as he acknowledges you. His tie is fully untied, draping around his neck and down his chest. His disheveled state is admittedly attractive but makes your heart break. You hate seeing him like this, not because he can’t handle it, but because he beats himself up too much while he does. All you wanted was for him to relax and take the night for himself, but you knew after the week’s stress, “taking the night for himself” would mean fighting the criminals of Hell’s Kitchen, not relaxing in bed as you’d want him to. But you had a plan. 

Matt stands, places his hands on your shoulders, and starts roaming. He begins at the straps, his coarse fingertips floating across your bare shoulders, causing goosebumps to litter your exposed skin. His hands move down the body of your dress, and he feels your every dip and curve. You bite your lip in anticipation, feeling heat rush between your legs. You watch as Matt runs his tongue across his lips, and you know he can taste it in the air. As his hands reach the hem of your dress, he grabs your ass and smirks.

“Short.” 

You hesitantly nod. “I, uh, I’m wearing a necklace too. You should feel it.” You look directly into his eyes and hold your breath. His eyes have darkened, turning from soft and comforting to dark and hungry. He cocks his head and pulls you even closer before raising his hand to your throat. His rough fingers gently trace around your neck, the sensation causing you to sharply inhale, and you swallow under his fingertips. You study his face to try and discern his reaction. 

“And what’s this?” He knows. You recognize this face. He’s playing with you. 

“It’s… candy.”

“You were going to wear this out?” His eyebrow raises, his lips betraying the slightest hint of amusement. His voice is mostly humorous, but you hear the overt undertones of posessiveness.

You choose not to answer his question. “Do you… want to taste it?”

His hand falls, and your neck immediately feels cold from the absence. He grabs your chin and lifts it to expose your neck, giving him access to your skin and necklace. Your eyes flutter shut in anticipation, and you feel his warm breath hover across you. The pulse between your legs begins to grow, and you place a hand on his chest to ground you. 

His nose hits your neck first, almost tickling you, and he wraps his mouth around a candy ring next. It tastes sweet and slightly salty from your skin, and he snakes a hand down to the small of your back for stability. Your heart is pounding, and you shiver from every brush of lips against neck. An almost silent moan parts from your lips, and Matt pulls away.

“It’s sweet.” He smirks and goes in for another, this time latching onto your neck and sucking on both you and the necklace. You gasp, and you feel your knees turn to jelly.

Matt gently pulls you onto the couch, his grip firm on your waist, and you fall into him. You reposition yourself to straddle his waist, and you feel your dress ride up your thighs as his strong hands plant themselves onto your hips. He moves his mouth from your necklace and starts kissing your neck, gently sucking and nibbling on your sensitive points. You moan as he hits the spot on your neck that he knows all too well, and you can’t help yourself. You start grinding your hips down against him, only a few layers between the two of you.

Matt groans, an erection already in his boxer briefs from the taste of you in the air. His hips buck up against you, and his hands begin to roam up and down your dress. One of his hands hovers over the hem of your dress.

“May I?” His voice is breathy and quiet, but you hear the need punctuating his words. Work has been his main priority for the past few weeks, so he’s been pent up for a while. And so have you.

“Please.” You start unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his chest, and you take a second to admire how it rises and falls as his breathing starts to get heavier. He pushes the skirt of your dress up to fully expose everything from your waist down.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so wet for me already.” He rubs a finger over the ever-growing damp spot on your underwear, and you can see him lick his lips and taste the air. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, and you watch as the pupils of his eyes completely blow out. His chest rises as he inhales, breathing your scent in, and he silently curses under his breath as his erection further strains against his pants. 

You whine as he starts to rub your clit through your panties, and you are compelled by your body to grind against his hand. He uses his other hand on your waist to guide you through, helping you rock your hips back and forth against him. 

“Please, Matt,” you whine.

“Use your words, sweetheart.” His voice is playful, but his words are stern. 

“I need you, please, fuck me—I need more.” 

His hand instantly moves away, and he flips you onto the couch. The cool leather almost stings against the burning heat of your skin. 

“You know, your necklace tasted good, but I know something I would much rather taste all night.” He grins as he moves down your body and slots his head between your thighs. Your hands immediately twist in his hair. The reaction is almost ritualistic after experiencing this bliss so many times before. Matt pulls the waistband of your panties and tugs them down your legs, letting you kick them off from your ankles and fall to the floor. You hungrily watch as he starts to go down on you, as he leaves long strokes with the flat of his tongue. Your head slumps against the arm of the couch as your eyes reflexively slam shut from the pleasure. Matt snakes his tongue inside of you, fully tasting you and your arousal. His nose clumsily nudges against your clit, and he lets out a soft groan as the taste takes over his senses. 

“Fuck, Matt…” You let out breathy moans, and your fingers tug at his hair, pulling him closer. He focuses his tongue on your clit again, and he inserts two fingers into you. His fingers are calloused and thick, and you immediately clench around them, eliciting a groan from Matt. His fingers crook and quickly hit the spot inside of you, and your hips buck into his mouth as you moan. He continues voraciously, and all thoughts vanish from your mind. The combination of his fingers, his tongue, and the gentle rumble of his moaning begins to build an orgasm deep inside you. 

Matt notices and increases his efforts, fucking you as moans spill out of your reddened lips. You tighten your thighs around his head, and you hear a quiet groan from Matt. If it had been earlier in the night, you might have been concerned you’d hurt or suffocate him, but you can’t think straight.

“Fuck, Matt, I’m close, I’m so close, I–” Your words almost trip on themselves as you say them as the buildup releases, and your muscles start to pulsate around his fingers as you moan his name. He guides you through your orgasm, licking up all of your juices and savoring the taste on his tongue. You gently pull him away and feel arousal building again as you watch him wrap his mouth around his fingers to savor the taste. 

“God, you’re so fucking good for me, sweetheart. Taste and feel so damn good,” Matt sighs, rising from his position on his knees. 

You move to get on your knees in reciprocity, but he stops you.

“Not tonight, sweetheart. I fucking need you right now.” His voice comes out ragged and hungry. Your taste is heady, and he seems almost drunk on you. He swoops you up into his arms as if you were weightless and carries you to the bed. He’s impatient but ever lovingly gentle, and he peppers kisses along your body as he nearly rips your dress off. He lingers at your throat as he bites another piece of candy off, and you giggle, having almost forgotten the thing that sparked this. You admire Matt as he strips down the rest of his clothing, ogling his gorgeous, toned body. 

Matt lets out a sharp hiss as his cock is finally released from its restraints, a bead of precum forming at the tip. You swallow at the sight of it, never having gotten over how big he is.

“Fuck, Matt, baby, I need you,” You whine, already soaking wet again. 

“Shh… I know, sweetheart, just one moment.” He climbs onto the bed, his arms framing your face and his legs slot between yours. He slowly slides into you, and you immediately let out a moan. 

“Sweetheart, you’re so tight for me,” Matt’s voice is laced with underlying tension as he restrains himself from going too fast, “You just feel so fucking good.”

After a few seconds of adjusting, you gently tap his arm to signal that you’re ready for more, and he fully buries himself into you. 

“God, Matt, I need you, please,” You start to shift yourself needily to get any friction. You ache from the overstimulation of your recent release, but the sting of pain mixes with pleasure in a way that just begs you for more. 

He immediately responds by moving into a familiar rhythm, angling his hips to hit every spot inside of you, eliciting moans from both of you. “God, you feel so good, sweetheart,” Matt half-whispers half-moans into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You whine into his ear as a response. You wrap your arms around him, digging your nails into his back, and he relishes the grounding feeling with your name falling from his lips. You were excited to see the marks on his back later, a reminder of tonight and your claim on him. 

One of his hands reaches down, and you feel his thumb start to rub your clit. Your body immediately reacts, your muscles tightening around him in a vice-like grip.

“Please, Matt, fuck, your dick feels so good,” you moan, “more, please.”

He responds by fucking you harder, faster. You feel the coil in you become tighter, spurred by your earlier climax, and your moans become almost pornographic as you experience what you imagine to be the most pleasure you could ever feel.

“Matt, I’m close, please, can I,” you beg, voice filled with impatience.

Matt’s voice is husky and exhilarating. “God, please, sweetheart, cum for me.” You feel his hips start to stutter, and your muscles begin to clench and flutter around him. You moan so loudly the neighbors could probably hear, and you don’t think you mind. This isn’t the first time your ecstasy has disturbed their evenings, and there hasn’t been a complaint yet.

After a few more thrusts, Matt pulls out of you, panting. As you come down from the high, you’re suddenly keenly aware of the sticky sensation on your neck from the mix of candy and saliva and the gush of his cum running out of you.

“So, uh, do I need to let you go out with your friends now?” Matt questions, a tinge of disappointment lacing his words. You giggled.

“Well, honestly, I changed my mind a little bit ago. Maybe we should just hang out for the rest of the night.” 

You had decided far before you had gotten ready that night. You figured he needed a break, and this was a good excuse for him to let loose.

A grin quickly spanned across his face, and he gave you a sweet and gentle peck before he ran to the bathroom to get a washcloth to clean you up. 

~

“So... can I ask what was up with the necklace?” You feel his voice rumble deep in him, mixed with his heartbeat, as your head rests against his chest.

“Oh,” you laugh, “that was just for you. I saw it in a shop and thought you might have some fun with it.”

[angst-cravings]

without you, part 2

matt murdock x f!reader

A/N: hey the title rhymes. Hi angels! Part 2 is finally here, by heavy demand! And uh... for those who thought I was gonna fix everything with this part?? No, I'm here to make it worse! Woo! (Don't hate me, I did warn you lmao). So, enjoy the angst! Hope it's worth the wait x

Summary: continuing on from Part 1 - You return after the ‘blip’. Five years is a long time, and a lot of things can happen in that time. Where does that leave you now?

Word count: somewhere in the 2.7k zone idk

Warnings: ANGST. Angst squared, if you will. Broken hearts everywhere. Broken hearted reader. Broken hearted Matty. A brief broken hearted Frank coming in for the rescue. Not a happy ending. Mentions of divorce and the religious thoughts surrounding that, the Blip and the devastation it would've caused, break ups, brief jealousy, heavy denial, anxiety, lots of crying and I just want to hold onto him forever & ever. This is unedited coz I'm lazy and like to just throw things out into the void and die like a warrior.

There’s a vicious, relentless pounding behind your temples when you finally begin to feel the darkness pulling at your mind recede. With the constant stab of pain, everything returns—the apparent lost time, the strange new world that had grown during your absence, the relationships that had also changed during those five years.

Five whole years.

It might as well have been an eternity.

Your whole life, everything you knew—gone. It doesn’t seem real, it’s just not possible, and yet here you are. Here you are in a world that still feels so familiar, and sickeningly not. Your thoughts are a vicious storm in your mind, merely intensifying the throb running along your forehead. Your system flutters between confusion, denial, mourning.

It’s enough to make you want to simply fall back into the blissful void of unconsciousness, until—

“Sweetheart?”

Matt. 

Your heart still jumps at his gentle rasp, a part of you longing to just soften into his hold and cling to him like you’d done so many times before, but you can’t. He’s not—he’s not your Matt. Not anymore. 

It’s hard to pull away from the fingers tracing your cheek, and when you open your eyes, they wince from the light shining through the large windows. He’s knelt on the floor beside you, a frown of concern creasing his brows as you slowly shift on weak limbs until you’re sitting upright on the leather.

You study his features through raw, hazy eyes, and it’s only now you notice the subtle changes you had missed upon your return to the apartment—the few more creases lining his face, the extra spatterings of grey strands amongst his dark tresses. His hair… it’s shorter too, now that you’re really looking. How had you not seen that? Not noticed?

Maybe it was the panic. It had to have been. You didn’t notice anything else when you ran in. Your surroundings had changed within a second, everything was all just so confusing and mad—you had just wanted him, you wanted home. Turns out, you had no home to return to. No one to return to. 

There must be so many others. The pain must be immense throughout the world. Lovers returning to mere memories. Parents returning to kids left behind, now years older and practically strangers. Children returning to homes that were no longer there, lost amongst the new world and without anyone familiar around them to find comfort in. God, they must be so scared.

Matt’s hand returns to your face, the backs of his fingers testing the feel of your forehead before ever so slowly trailing away until they rest where your pulse thrums through the skin of your throat. It’s not necessary—he’d hear it across town. Maybe he’s seeking physical reassurance that you’re really here, right in front of him.

“Talk to me,” he pleads quietly, “say something, anything.”

You find nothing worth speaking. You doubt you’d even have the strength to speak with how dry and heavy your tongue feels in your mouth. His hand moves, fingers hot on your skin as he cups the underside of your jaw and this time, you don’t quite have the strength to pull away.

All you want is this.

His touch, his presence—him.

“Sweetheart, I—” he stops, head tilting ever so slightly towards the door.

You watch him stiffen, tension rolling through his shoulders as he rises from his knelt position before turning towards the door to the apartment expectantly. It takes longer for your senses to catch up, but eventually the dull thud of boots hitting the flooring outside of the apartment hits your ears—

Frank.

Where was he through all of this? Had he been left to carry on with life, trying to make sense of a world left in ruin? Or had he been washed away with the breeze, just like half the planet? Universe? You want to ask Matt, but words seem to fade away on your tongue. 

He doesn’t bother knocking—he never has.

While there had been some stirrings of indifference between him and Matt after everything that happened, there was still a solid foundation of respect, which quickly extended to you the more you attempted to coax the beaten and bloodied man into your clutches for some much needed medical treatment. You were more than acquaintances, a little less than friends—just close enough for him to feel comfortable coming and going from the apartment should he have ever needed patching up.

“Apparently it’s been a while,” Frank mutters gruffly as a somewhat greeting once he’s stepped into the apartment, and you feel the same air of confusion and denial radiating from him.

He had been gone then, like you. How is he handling this? Does he feel as lost as you? As scared? You’d always thought him to be someone not exactly immune to the feeling, but at least stronger than others. As much as you feel for him, hurt for him, knowing exactly the type of thoughts and feelings that plague him, you find comfort in the fact that you weren’t alone in this.

Matt doesn’t respond, and Frank sighs tiredly, eyes flashing briefly to the side under his heavily bruised and swollen brow.

“I ain’t here to fight, Red.”

Matt’s tongue flicks over his lips and he gives a humourless huff, still not relaxing from his defensive stance. Maybe he was expecting Frank to be pissed and burst in like a raging bull with red in his vision, seeing as he and Karen had something brewing slowly between them all those years ago, but Frank doesn’t seem to be interested in any violence whatsoever.

You’re not even entirely sure what he’s here for.

“Well, Karen’s not here—”

“I know, she was with me,” Frank rumbles deeply, head tilting as he appraises Matt, “told me the happy news—congrats.”

It’s not insincere, but it’s damn near close. 

His gaze moves to you.

He studies the way you sit, drawn in on yourself and cuddling your chest in an effort to hold yourself together. You can feel how raw and swollen your eyes are, and when you finally manage to tiredly lift them to meet his, Frank seems to soften.

It’s only slight, imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know his mannerisms well, but you see it.

“I was thinkin’ you might need a place, after hearin’ about—” he swallows, jaw rolling ever so slightly. He exhales sharply and shifts on his feet, “You got anywhere to go?” 

He’s here for you?

Matt intervenes immediately. “She’s staying here, Frank—”

Staying here? In the apartment you used to live in? That he now lives in with another woman? Was his idea to leave you sleeping on the couch alone, while they sleep in your bed together? No, it’s not your bed anymore. It’s their bed. Their apartment.

Five years of Daredevil and regular concussions must’ve really killed some of his brain cells. Is he even still Daredevil? Maybe married life changed his perspective on his dangerous nightly habits. Maybe his perspective changed on a lot of things. Is he even the same Matt you had left behind?

Frank’s head tilts, his eyes narrowing into a scowl as they flick back to Matt. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t askin’ you—was I, Red?”

“No,” you finally rasp in reply to his earlier question before Matt could retort, voice rough and weak in your throat, “no, I don’t.”

He nods, expecting your answer. “You got a bag?”

“I don’t know if I have any things left,” you mutter, bitterly wondering where your belongings went. Storage? Donated? The trash? How long did they leave it, did Matt leave it before tossing it all away? Like you’d never even existed, like you’d never even mattered. “Do I have anything here, Matt?”

Matt baulks at the ice coating your tone, and it’s unfair. You know that. Deep down you know you’re being unfair, a part of your mind gently reminding you that you probably would’ve thought and done the same in his position should it have been reversed, but you don’t care.

The familiar bite of anger, pain, still stirs relentlessly in your system and it trumps all reason and logic.

You had a life, and now it’s in complete ruins.

What are you supposed to do with that?

Frank nods sagely, “We’ll get you some things, ain’t gotta worry about that. You comin’?”

As much as you want to reject the idea of leaving, as much as your heart screams at you to stay with Matt because he’s all you know, he’s all you have, and he was telling you how much he loved you only mere hours ago… you give a minimal nod, and shift to stand from the couch.

It wasn’t hours ago—it was five years.

Five years.

Matt instinctively steps in front of you to keep you from moving any further, his tongue darting across his lips in an apparent panic, “You’re going with him?”

“Can you give us a minute? I won’t be long,” you ask Frank quietly, aching at the way Matt’s anxiety seems to heighten at your words.

Frank gives a single nod, and then slips out, the door clicking quietly shut behind him. Matt ignores it, every sense focused in on you and the way your heart beats a broken rhythm in your chest, the way your nails pick at the cotton of your sleeves, the way fresh tears smell building on your lash line—

“I have nowhere else to go,” you mutter, body now numb to feeling and just utterly exhausted from the onslaught of emotions the day had thrust upon you. “I can’t stay here, Matt. I can’t. Seeing you two—God, it’ll kill me. I can’t do it.”

Why you? Why did it have to be you? 

A part of you wishes it would’ve been Karen in your place, uncaringly and unknowingly torn from her life to leave everything she ever loved behind, only to return to a world that had survived, that had moved on without her… and you don’t even have the energy to feel guilty for such a thought yet.

It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t even Matt’s.

“Sweetheart,” Matt pleads softly, hands seeking and taking your hands tightly, “just—just tell me what to do. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

The thought is immediate—would he leave her? Could you ask that of him? Could you expect him to just drop and abandon everything he’s built during your absence?

You want to.

You want to tell him to break it off with her as soon as physically possible, to kick her out so you could be at home where you’re comfortable and with him and just act like nothing happened—

—but you can’t.

You can’t bring yourself to say the words.

What would he think of you asking a question like that? Would he even do it? You know how he feels about divorce, what his religion thinks of divorce. His whole belief system, his life, his God… would he abandon it all for you?

Looking at him now, how he physically pleads with you with those soft, lost eyes looking for guidance, you believe that maybe, just maybe, he would. 

But you can’t ask that of him.

You could never, and would never, ask that of him.

Unless—

“Were you happy?” You ask softly, eyes bouncing between his where they rest just left of your face. 

He blinks, a slight frown forming between his eyes in an effort to make sense of your unexpected words, “What?”

“Before I—” you take a breath, tongue rolling along your lips to moisten the sudden dry skin, “—before I just materialised back onto the street… were you happy? With your life? With her?”

Without me?

Say no.

God, please say no.

You begin to wonder why you asked. Maybe you’re a glutton for punishment, maybe you think nothing could possibly hurt any more than it already does, but when his expression falters, when his mouth opens and nothing seems to make it past his lips, you know that’s not possible.

This… this seems to hit the hardest.

He was happy.

He was happy before you came back.

He was happy without you. 

And it’s… good.

It is.

Of course you don’t want him to be anything but that. He had found what he wanted from life—some normality, some peace, and it’s with that understanding that you realise you have no place here anymore. At least not with him. You have no part in his life now, and it shreds that last little untouched piece of your hopeful heart to absolute ruins.

Denial still pulls at your mind, still blatantly refuses to accept that five years had actually passed. You’d been nothing but a distant memory to him, to your friends, to the world, and yet, everything is still so vividly fresh for you. You only got out of bed, held him, kissed him, a few hours ago—a few fucking hours!

Five years.

“It’s okay,” you mutter, as his saddened eyes flutter in a panic, “I want that for you, Matt. I’ve always wanted that for you, even if that means I’m not—that we’re not—”

You ache at the thought of being apart from him, a feeling he had already experienced and endured. 

“Three years,” he says quietly, brokenly, a slow gathering of tears building along his lash line, “three years I searched, I waited, I prayed… if I had known—if I had known you… I wouldn’t have—”

—moved on. 

You envision Matt lost in the organised pews with dozens of other faceless mourners, on his knees and weeping into his closed hands, begging for the strength to finally let you go. He was granted it, after enduring agony for such a stretch of time, and now it’s all fallen to pieces at your return.

“It’s okay,” you repeat softly, the feeling of your heart beating in your throat choking the words, “it’s okay.”

“No,” he shakes his head, face creasing as the tears begin to make their way down his cheeks, “no, it’s not. I’ve only just gotten you back. You’re back, and now—now I—God. I can’t say goodbye. Not again. I can’t.”

“So don’t,” you say simply, a fresh build of your own tears streaking your cheeks, “we won’t say goodbye. Just… just forget. Forget I ever came back, Matt. Everything will be as it was.”

He recoils sharply, as if you physically struck him. “I can’t do that—”

“Yes, you can. You have to, we all have to.”

“No, I won’t—”

“You told me to tell you,” you croak weakly, the feel of his coarse stubble piercing the soft skin of your palm as you cradle his cheek, “you told me to tell you what to do, and that you’ll do it. Well, this is it, Matt. This is what I’m telling you to do—forget I ever came back. It’ll be easier for everyone. You can keep what you had—what you have, and I—”

And you?

What will you do?

Where will you go?

Your hand falls from his face, only for it to be snatched up and returned to its previous spot with his own pressed tightly against it to keep it there. His tears smear against your skin, the evidence of his heartbreak an obvious reminder that he never let go completely.

There’s something still held for you within him, it just wasn’t the same as when you left.

His forehead comes to rest against your own, and you weaken into the familiar comfort of his touch, just for a moment. You don’t want to let go, don’t even know if you can. There's nothing left to be said, nothing left to be worked out. This is just it.

Why does it have to be this way? Your stomach churns at the idea of walking out for good. How can you? Nothing has changed for you—everything you feel for him is right there, right there where it’s always been, and you can’t do anything with it.

You indulge in the moment a little longer, stretching out to softly press your lips to his with the bittersweet taste of a loving goodbye—one last time. You savour the feel of him, his lips, so warm, so soft and sweet and familiar—

—and then pull away, the air filling the space between you lingering with the memory of what could have been.

He lets your hand fall away this time, pained haunted eyes scrunching closed as you further the distance between you until you’re at the door to the apartment. The quiet exhale of a sob reaches your ears as you open the door, and you dare not look back at Matt falling apart as you close it softly behind you.

[angst-cravings]

grinning like a devil

summary: cruel summer. but about matt murdock and you. you meet matt in a bar one day and you start hooking up, but you start falling for him.

pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader

words: 1.3k

an: you guys cruel summer was literally written about matt murdock you don’t even get it !!!!! also this is the first thing i’ve written in months so hopefully it’s okay <3

cw: mentions of sex

That first night felt like a fever dream. You had a tough day at work and just wanted to blow off steam. You decided to go to a different dive bar than you usually frequented, hoping to find an eligible bachelor or bachelorette to spend the night with. You’d been here – Josie’s – once with some friends, but you’d never been here alone. It was a different atmosphere than you were used to. Quieter than most bars, but it was almost cozy. It seemed like a perfect alone-drinking spot. You sat at the bar, ordered a drink, and started to scope the place. Your eyes flitted across the dingy room, hesitating on every face, then moving on to the next, until you resigned yourself to striking out tonight. Maybe you’d go somewhere else, maybe that club by your apartment? It was far louder, but you were more likely to find someone just looking for something for the night. 

But then you watched as a group of three entered the bar, smiling and chatting about something you couldn’t hear from the distance. 

First, you saw a man with longer blonde hair and a face-spanning grin. His eyes twinkled, and he was wearing a pastel pink button-up. 

Second, a stunning woman with beautiful blonde hair and striking eyes. She caught your eye, and you started planning your next moves—until the third. 

You first saw him laughing with his friends, and you immediately eyed him up. He was gorgeous. The rose-tinted glasses, the rolled-up sleeves, the loosened tie—it all intrigued you. He would be your target of the night. If he was single, of course. 

You quickly deduced that he was blind, mostly from his cane, and relieved yourself of the temporary worry that he had caught you staring at him. You looked over your shoulder at their table every so often to quickly analyze the dynamic. He didn’t seem to be dating either blonde, and the other two had gone up to get a round of beers already. It would likely soon be his turn, and that’s when you planned to approach him. 

But you didn’t need to. When it was his turn to grab a round, he (conveniently for you) walked up right next to you and ordered. You took a sip of your drink, set it down, and right as you were about to open your mouth, he started talking to you.

“Busy night here, huh?” He turned his face towards you with a slight smile, and your heart jumped. You got a better look at him. You could just barely see his eyes behind his glasses, dark, and gentle. He had a beautiful smile, with perfect teeth, and his stubble shaped his face wonderfully. You wondered how it would feel between your legs, and you quickly waved the thought away.

“This is busy? Man, I picked a lame bar to go to tonight.” You shifted in your seat to face him instead of craning your neck. 

“Oh, is it your first time?” You noticed one of his hands on the bar. Big, slightly roughed up, veiny. You swallowed, once again forcing the thoughts away.

“Are you asking me if I come here often?” You teased back at him with a smirk on your face, then nodded, “Yeah, it is.” 

“Well, that must be why it’s not as lame as it usually is.” He smirked back, now leaning his weight on the bar. He was practically on display, and you could see his build through his shirt.  “Matt.”

You offered your name back and then turned to wave down the bartender.

“Hey, can I have another?” You smiled at her, and Matt quickly interrupted.

“And I can cover this one, Josie.” 

Bingo. You were in. 

You spent the rest of the night chatting, lightly touching him, and making suggestive comments until he finally suggested that you spend the night with him. 

And it was amazing. Matt was one of the best lovers you’ve ever had. He was so in tune with your body and completely prioritized your pleasure. 

So you started regularly hooking up. Sometimes it was just sex, but you’d usually have a drink together beforehand. Whenever you two talked he seemed to be utterly enraptured by you, hanging on so tightly to every word that fell from your lips. And you gave the same back to him.

You figured he was hooking up with other women. You two were just hooking up, there were no rules, you weren’t exclusive. That’s what you told yourself, at least. Until you and your friends went to Josie’s one Friday and you spotted him chatting up another woman. You didn’t feel like you had developed feelings for him until then. Your heart plummeted. You immediately left the bar, excusing yourself to your friends, walked about a block down, and called a cab. You didn���t think you’d be able to handle seeing any more of it, and you also didn’t want Matt to know you were there.

So there you were, drunk in the back of the car, crying. You liked him so much. But you were so, so fucking scared to lose him. If you told him you liked him, he might run away. You were just hooking up.

So the next time you two met up you wanted it to be just hooking up. You denied the drink invitation and you had planned on leaving as soon as you two had finished. Or at least you tried.

You did your usual routine of going to the bathroom after sex, but this time you put your work clothes back on. As you returned to his bedroom, he frowned.

“Are you not coming back to bed for even a little?” He sat up, propping himself up on a pillow. “Not tonight, Matt,” You slid on your socks, “Maybe next time.” “How come?” “I have stuff I need to get done.”

“Are you alright?” Concern laced his face as if he could sense you were lying. “I’m fine, Matt.” You furrowed your eyebrows in frustration. 

“No, tell me what’s wrong.” He started to rise from the bed, quickly sliding into some clothes.

You let out a sharp breath. “What are we doing, Matt?” You were exhausted, and tired of putting up this facade. 

“What?” “I said, what are we doing?”

“No, I heard you. What do you mean?” 

“I don’t think I can do this anymore. I can’t just do this. I can’t just do hookups. I can’t just do drinks,” You close your eyes and take a deep breath. 

Before you can speak, he interrupts you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you felt that way. We can stop hooking up if you’d like.” His voice had a sad timbre, and you figured this would happen. He would be disappointed that you guys stopped hooking up, you would distance yourself, and you would likely never see him again. But you figured you should at least try. Better to confess now and hurt now than to fall even further. 

“I just want to say this before we do. I think… I think I love you. Or at least I’m falling for you.”  You didn’t want to scare him. You dug your nails into your palm, trying to curb the anxiety, forcing your eyes closed so you wouldn’t see the expression on his face. You could picture the shock, or the horror, or the disappointment, or the pity. Any of those would make sense. You’ve confessed to hookups before, or they’ve done the same to you, and it always ends the same way.  

You heard him breathe out your name. As you opened your eyes, you saw him grinning. Not what you had expected. Maybe he was happy to be away from you. 

“You have no idea how much you just terrified me.”

You bit your lip. “So what do we do from here? Do we stop hooking up?”

“Seriously?” “What?” He chuckled and walked over to you, “Okay, so going from here, I think we should go on a date. A proper one.” “Wait, what? I thought… I thought you would want to stop after that.”

“Sweetheart. I like you too. I would love to see where this goes.” He placed his hand on your cheek, cupping your face. Grinning like a devil. 

[angst-cravings]

yeah this is the first thing i've posted since april lol

you think cruel summer by taylor swift was written about matt murdock

[angst-cravings]

you think cruel summer by taylor swift was written about matt murdock

[angst-cravings]

masterlist

key: fluff ☁️, angst ❤️‍🩹, smut 🌹

matt murdock x reader

let you break my heart again part 1 part 1.5 part 2 ❤️‍🩹☁️

birdlistening ☁️

grinning like a devil ☁️

candy necklace 🌹

[angst-cravings]

without you

matt murdock x f!reader

A/N: made myself hurt with this one tbh. I'll think about a part 2 if enough are interested, but I'll warn you - it won't be a happy ending lmao. Enjoy the angst-fest loves! x

Summary: You return after the 'blip'. Five years is a long time, and a lot of things can happen in that time.

Word count: 2.1kish

Warnings: ANGST. ANGST ANGST ANGST. i got sad af writing this. i don't even know what to put in the warnings. the events of infinity war & endgame, brief mention of the avengers, severe and utter fucking heartbreak, i would lose my fucking mind coming home after an apparent 5 years and finding the love of my life *******, lots of anxiety/panic, severe panic attack, passing out. no hate to karen here - she's a fucking babe.

-

It happens within a blink.

One moment there’s no one, and the next, an older woman is suddenly standing in your way and you can’t help the brief twitch of annoyance that she’s there. You have a meeting, you have groceries to get… you can’t just play chicken with a stranger on the pavement all afternoon.

She freezes, like many others you notice, and your frown deepens, confusion starting to take over the irritation. They all look at you, but not just you.

Time seemingly comes to a momentary freeze and you just don’t understand. Why is she looking at you like that?

The next minute—panic.

There’s a rush.

People scramble for their phones, they run. Cars swerve and there’s chaos. There are people crying, people start screaming, but there’s also awe, laughter. People embrace strangers. You know they’re strangers by the way they look around in complete bewilderment in the arms of the other, seemingly just as confused as you.

Five years.

Why do you keep hearing ‘five years’? Why are shop fronts different? What the hell has happened? 

“You’re… you’re all back,” the woman utters, tears starting to build along her lash line.

Back?

You feel it in the pit of your stomach, a sick feeling of dread slowly building until it feels like it sticks uncomfortably in your throat. Something happened. You don’t know what, you don’t know how, all you know is that you need to go home immediately.

It’s halfway back to the apartment, after passing things that weren’t there previously, shops that you had passed just hours before now different, and your phone simply refusing to connect for unknown reasons, that you break into a panicked run.

You want home, you want somewhere familiar.

Matt left for work the same time as you—would the new mayhem taking over the streets bring him home to you? Maybe he’d already be waiting, sensing the frenzy before you?

The view of your building is a welcome relief, and you slow as you reach the door, heart pounding in your chest as you take the stairs as quickly as possible. The apartment is unlocked, and you berate yourself for forgetting to lock up earlier, but Matt’s cane resting by the door turns your inward irritation to understanding.

He’s home. He got here before you. He must be waiting, maybe he’d have answers—

“Matty?” you call, “do you have any idea what’s—”

A clatter, a sweep of air, and then he’s on you.

He’s curled around you before you can even finish, his arms so tight and constricting you struggle to take in a full breath. He’s talking, muttering incoherent words into the skin of your throat and all you can do is stand there, mind whirling in a maddening rush, not even able to lift your arms to return his embrace due to his restrictive hold.

“You’re here,” he breathes, almost disbelieving, “you’re here. I didn’t want to have hope but—God, I—”

“Matt, I’m so confused,” you breathe, unsure of why tears are starting to gloss your eyes or why your heart suddenly feels like it’s beating in the back of your throat, “what’s going on? It’s crazy out there, I don’t know wh—”

“I know. I know, sweetheart. I’ve missed you. God, I’ve missed you. It’s been so long, I didn’t think I’d ever—” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence and a few more panicked kisses press into the side of your throat.

He’s crying.

You feel the wetness of his tears smear over your skin and it’s enough to bring your own falling heavily from your eyes. What is he talking about? You saw him this morning, only mere hours ago. You made breakfast, you kissed him goodbye like every other day, nothing had been different. 

“Matt,” you whimper, “what the hell is going on?”

—

Five years. You were gone for five years. Just one day—poof. Out of existence, never to be seen again. The city had been clouded by dust, remnants of those also taken disappearing with the autumn breeze. So many people just lost. You don’t remember any of it.

There was no pain, no suffering. You had no recollection of the time lost at all, and yet for Matt it had been years.

Years since he had touched you, kissed you, felt you. He tells you that he looked for you for weeks, months. Even went to the damn Avengers—or what was left of them—and found out what had happened. He’d been distraught, falling into a deep, dark pit of despair and heartbreak from the sudden loss of you.

You cry for him, for the time you’d lost together.

Nothing could ever make up for it. Sure, you’re here now, but could you ever truly make up for the loss of time? What had he gone through during your absence?

The two of you don’t part for what feels like hours.

Matt clings to you, inhaling you deeply and kissing whatever inch of skin he could reach. He doesn’t pull away to answer your questions, instead letting the low rumble of his voice melt through the fabric of your shirt and flooding warmth along your shoulder.

His hands still roam over you, almost as if they’re retracing your dips and curves to remind himself of how you felt when you disappeared five years ago. You catch his fingers with a sweet flutter in your chest, lifting his hand to press a tender kiss to the back of it when the smooth feel of metal catches your attention.

It’s a simple gold band, fit snug around the fourth finger of his left hand and you rub your finger over the shiny surface of it in curiosity. He wasn't wearing a ring this morning...

A ring. 

A wedding ring.

You feel sick.

He senses the moment you realise it, picking up on the sudden quicken of your heartbeat and the clammy sting of sweat that builds along the back of your neck.

His tongue darts out to moisten his lips as you stare at the smooth gold band in shock, feeling as if the room had suddenly gotten ten times smaller. He starts to shift, his fingers quickly flipping to wrap around your wrists to keep you from moving away.

“Let me explain—”

“You… are—are you married?”

“Sweetheart, please—”

You hurriedly stand, wrenching your hands from his and stumbling on your quick step back as he advances after you. He’s married? How can he be married?

Maybe he’s not. Maybe he just slid the ring you both picked out onto his finger when you disappeared in an effort to keep your memory fresh… but with the shine of guilt starting to seep into his features, you fear it’s not as sentimental as you hope.

Panic consumes you. Your eyes flitter around the room, your ears filling with a dull ring that drowns out whatever words fall from his lips as he cautiously steps after you.

It’s your apartment, but it’s… it’s not.

You start to notice the little things you had missed upon coming home so quickly. That throw over the back of the couch isn’t yours. The coffee mug next to Matt’s on the kitchen counter isn’t yours. Your trinkets aren’t lingering on the shelves where you’d placed them. Your shoes aren’t thrown by the door. Your photo with Matt isn’t in its usual spot on the wall.

Instead, another picture hangs there.

Bile burns the back of your throat. Your heart thunders away in your ears. You know what it is, you can see the general feel of it and who stands within the frame through blurry eyes, but you simply can’t accept it.

It’s morbid curiosity that makes you take those few steps towards it, a part of you screaming to not look, to turn away before it really hammers that final nail into the coffin and fucking destroys you. Maybe your mind needs to truly see it in order to make sense of it… but no. It only makes you more confused, more distressed.

What the fuck?

Oxygen is impossible. You can’t fucking breathe. You can’t—

“Sweetheart—”

It’s a wedding photo.

Matt’s wedding photo.

Matt and Karen’s wedding photo.

“Oh my god,” you whimper brokenly, clutching a hand to your chest in an effort to keep yourself together. You press where you feel the rapid beat of your heart, half wondering if you’d be able to feel the break of the frantic organ under your palm.

The room starts to spin.

This morning you’d woken up with an apartment and a fiancé, and now, only a few hours later, you have nothing. How can you have nothing? The apartment is home to you—you left your pyjamas on the floor of the bathroom this morning. You had your coffee at the counter. The love you feel for Matt is present as it always had been, there in the centre of your entire being, so sweet and consuming and yet, his love for you had seemingly vanished.

Disintegrated, along with your body apparently five years ago. Maybe with a clearer head, you’d come to understand that five years is a long time and it’s understandable that he had to move on at some point, but in the moment you feel nothing but hurt—rage.

Matt’s hands are frantic on your body, grabbing at your arms and keeping you from falling to the floor as a sob tears its way out of your chest. You can hear him try to soothe you, hear his worry that your heart is erratic and you just need to breathe.

Breathe, sweetheart—please, breathe.

You can’t. You simply can’t.

Oxygen isn’t coming as easily as it should. Your lungs burn. You’re shaking, unable to stop the tremble taking over your body as you choke on your tears. They burn your skin, painting your cheeks with the bitterness of your heartbreak and they just won’t stop. 

He supports you as you sink towards the floor, legs no longer having the strength to hold you up. He goes down with you, hands cradling your head to his chest and you can’t find it in you to push him away and escape his touch.

It’s Matt. Your Matt. 

You shouldn’t want to shrug him off. You shouldn’t feel guilty at his touch. He’s your Matt, has been for the eighteen months you’ve been together. It was meant to be you in that frame, swimming in white with a smile stretched along your lips, Matt dressed to the nines in an immaculate tux and his ever present red shades beside you.

But it’s not. It’s… it’s Karen.

It’s not you, there’s no trace of you anywhere to be seen. Had you been that forgettable? Foggy’s there, Marci a step behind holding a beautiful little girl with ribbons in her hair. They had a baby? You’ve missed so much.

You start weeping for the life you’d missed out on, for the chances and opportunities of growing older with them and the sweet potential you had had with Matt.

Gone.

All of it, just—gone.

Where would you be now had your soul not been chosen? Married? Promoted? A godmother to the sweet little angel cradled in Marci’s arms? 

“Sweetheart, come back to me,” Matt’s voice cuts through your despair, low and soft in your ear and you cling to him tighter, “breathe. I’ve got you, I’m here.”

“I-I’ve lost so much,” you choke out, hiding your tear stricken face in his throat and desperately trying to get ahold of your body jerking with each difficult inhale and broken exhale, “and I didn’t even know—”

You didn’t know. You didn’t know anything when you apparently ‘returned’. It’s all so haunting and overwhelming and so fucking confusing. 

He stills smells the same, feels the same, despite all these years. You cling to him, desperate for comfort in the moment of your utter heartbreak, but it doesn’t work like it used to and that only makes your pain increase tenfold. His hold feels wrong now. His hold isn’t for you anymore. He has a wife.

You still don’t understand. You can’t comprehend the fact that he’s married, that the arms that hold you are now meant for someone else. They were yours this morning. It’s not possible. You had him this morning; you felt him this morning, you kissed him—

“Sweetheart,” he’s urgent now, manoeuvring you in his hold until you sit in front of him, your back pressed up against his chest and his arms tight around your torso, “breathe with me. Feel my chest, listen to me and follow—in… and out. Come on—”

You pay attention to the exaggerated feel of him breathing against your back, focusing on every expansion of his chest and attempting to match the pace of your inhales. It doesn’t work. Your heart still thunders away against your ribs, your mind still runs fucking wild, and your eyes threaten to roll back from the rush of it all.

“Stay with me,” he begs, but his voice starts to sink to the back of your mind, taken over by the high pitched ring sounding in your ears.

It’s not long until black fully engulfs your vision, and Matt’s voice calling your name is the last thing you hear, frantic and terrified. Maybe you'll find peace in the darkness.

-

matty tags: @javier-pena, @dihra-vesa, @a-reader-and-a-writer, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @acourtofsnakes, @mstgsmy66, @evyiione, @stardust-galaxies, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @withasideofmeg, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @fangirl-316, @xoxabs88xox, @federleichtefreiheit, @lavenderluna10, @mindidjarin. @stardustingold, @androah, @itwasthereaminuteago, @wildmoonflower, @naughtynecromancer, @h-hxgirl, @Unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men, @juletheghoul, @punkerthanpascal, @itswanktime, @omlwhatamidoinghere, @celestinemuse, @chaoticemz, @alexxavicry, @mylifeispainandiloveit, @cran-berry-vodka, @nishi-reads, @mandocrasis, @lawfulgranola, @ew-erin, @fuckoffbard, @spaceserialkiller, @captain-jebi

[angst-cravings]

birdlistening

summary: you are an avid birder, and you go birdwatching every sunday morning before matt goes to church. today you invite him out

pairing: matt murdock x reader

words: 1k

an: this is so self indulgent i love birds so much. only fluff. gender neutral reader, no use of y/n

cw: some mild explicit language. embarrassment about being passionate

The sun isn’t even up yet, but you are energized and ready to go. You love Sunday mornings. Matt has his ritual of going to church and confession, while you have your ritual of going birdwatching. It’s how you center yourself before every week starts. You are silently packing your bag, putting in your worn field guide, bird notebook, binoculars, water bottle filled with hot cocoa, and a pair of gloves in case things get a little too nippy. You barely noticed, but Matt had gotten out of bed and was standing in the doorway like he always manages to do before you leave. You flash him a quick smile. He looks so ethereal with the neon lights reflecting off his bare skin, and his lack of clothing always entices you to stay behind. 

“Expecting any good birds today?” 

“Well, this week is actually peak migration, so… yeah. There will be so many birds today.” You try to hide your excitement, but you’re sure he can hear it in your voice. This is your favorite time of the year, and you are constantly looking forward to it in the winter when birds are scarce.

He grins at you. “Well, I hope you have fun sweetheart.” 

You keep meaning to invite him, but he had usually only gone to bed a few hours before. However, he had taken last night off. Maybe this would be a good time?

“Would you… maybe want to come birdwatching with me?” You tentatively suggest. You were prepared for rejection. It was so early in the morning, and you didn’t even know if he’d enjoy it.

“Well, I can’t exactly watch the birds,” He chuckles, “But I can go out with you if you’d like. I could at least make sure you get to Central Park safely.”

“I think you’d like it more than you think. I can teach you the bird calls, and then you can bird listen,” You zip up your backpack, and put on a hat, “But you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

He immediately shakes his head. “Of course. Anything to spend a little more time with you.” Warmth rises in your cheeks, and you can’t help but smile.

As you two walk to Central Park, you start educating him. 

“So, you obviously know the common ones like the Rock Pigeon and Mourning Dove and Canada Goose and stuff. We’ll probably encounter some of those today but those are kinda boring. I’m really looking for warblers; they’re some of my favorite birds. American Redstart and Yellow-rumped Warblers are pretty common around migration here, so I’m expecting some of those.” You pull up recordings of the calls on your phone and play them for Matt so he can get an idea. “American Redstarts are so pretty too, they have this gorgeous orange-red shoulder area. And the Yellow-rumped Warbler is mostly gray with a yellow butt, shoulder, and head.” 

Matt is listening to you, but he is mostly enjoying the lilt of your voice. He loves when you’re excited about things. Your heartbeat always rises a little, your grin is visible in your voice, and you move your hands around a lot. He loves hearing the near-silent swish of air as you gesticulate enthusiastically. 

“You know, you’re lucky this is me. These calls sound very similar.” 

“I mean those two aren’t pretty similar. I think they’re pretty distinct.” You shrug. 

“Maybe to you and I, sweetheart.” He squeezes your hand. 

You set up the blanket on a green patch in Central Park. Matt sits down before you and pulls you into his lap. As the sun starts to rise, birds start to fly, and you point out bird calls to Matt as you hear them. 

“That’s an Indigo Bunting! They’re so gorgeous, they’re this lovely blue color. They form song neighborhoods, where in one area they’ll have one song, and in another, they’ll have a slightly different song. It’s super cool!” You gush as you follow the bird with your binoculars.

He felt lucky. He had an intelligent, passionate partner who loved him. He buries his face in your neck and smiles. The grip around your waist tightens, and he takes a deep breath. Your body wash mingles with the smell of dew and trees. You rattle off more birds to him, and he can feel you write a list of the birds you see. He felt so damn lucky. 

“So, that one I’m hearing is a… Song Sparrow, right?” He focuses on the bird in the tree near you two. Before you even respond, he can hear your heart rate raise slightly in excitement.

“You were paying attention.” A smile forms across your lips.

“Of course, I was, sweetheart.”

“I know, I just… I know you aren’t the most interested in this. Just…thank you. For doing this with me.” You tilt your head in his direction.

“No. I am interested in anything you are interested in. I love the way you talk about birds. Your voice gets a little bit faster and a little bit higher, and you ramble in the cutest way possible. And I will do anything to get you to talk more. It’s one of my favorite sounds. Don’t ever be embarrassed for being passionate. If I could only hear one thing for the rest of my life, it’d be you talking, because” He connects his lips with yours for a quick peck, “I love you. And with that, I love anything that you love too. I was actually hoping you’d invite me. You’ve been talking about this for weeks. I, uh, took last night off in the hopes that you would. Thanks for taking me.”

You shift in his lap and place your hand on his cheek. You lean in, and your foreheads touch.

“Thank you, Matt.” You whisper. You close the distance and kiss him. His lips were warm and inviting. Just like him.

[angst-cravings]

let you break my heart again (2)

part 1 | part 1.5

summary: you take the leap.

pairing: matt murdock x reader

words: 2.2k

an: i rewrote this like three times and i’m still not happy with how it turned out, bi foggy, you make the first move, gender neutral reader

cw: mild angst, fluffy, some explicit language

You didn’t know this, but later that night, Karen and Foggy started scheming. Foggy wasn’t dumb, and he’s known how you both have felt for a long while. Maybe they’d try to get you two alone in the office tonight. Or they could stage a dinner where they’d have to cancel. Every plan had a flaw. If you two were alone in the office, you might just end up working alone. Or at the dinner, no one would say anything to each other. Karen decided that it’d be best if she sat down and talked to you seriously. Although you’ve always been good at reading people, Matt was far, far better. You just needed the confidence to confess. Foggy was far less engaged in the conversation that Karen was.

Truth be told, it did kind of hurt. Foggy wasn’t in love with you (he hasn’t been since college), and he always wanted you to be happy, but he always held a tiny bit of resentment towards Matt for being far more successful in relationships than he was. Or maybe he held a tiny bit of resentment because he wasn’t the one in the relationship with him. Either way, the planning to get you two together was bittersweet. He’d be happy for you two if it went well. Or at least he tried to convince himself that was true. 

“There is literally no way he doesn’t like you. He always responds differently from when me or Foggy talk to him.” Karen is perched on the edge of your desk, legs slightly swaying.

“Well he’s clearly not pining over me! And this is how he’s always treated me, it’s probably just because of Foggy. When he gets here he’s probably going to start talking with him about that woman he slept with last night.” 

You glance over your desk, case files strewn about haphazardly. Everything is putting you on edge, including the chaos on your desk that is reflecting your current mental state, “Just like every other night after we go to Josie’s. Half of me wants to stop going just so I don’t have to see it. It hurts, Karen. I just want to get over him.” Your face falls into your cold palms, and you feel like your button-up is suffocating you. 

“Maybe you should say something to him.” You hear her rise and you feel the gentle touch of her hand on your back.

“Maybe… I’m just so scared. I don’t want to fuck anything up.” You admitted, looking up at her kind face.

“I know. But sometimes we have to take risks. That’s why you guys started this firm. That’s why we do so much pro-bono work. And you both are mature enough to not let something like this affect your work.”



And that’s when Foggy enters. Karen stands up a little straighter and removes her hand from your back.

“Morning you two!” He’s cheery, as usual. That was half the reason you appreciate his friendship. It was ironic that his nickname was Foggy, because you always pictured him as the one who could clear the clouds away.

“Good morning Foggy. How was Josie’s last night?” You inquire with a faux nonchalance. You really just want to hear about Matt’s escapades and if he had really gone home with that woman, but you obviously weren’t going to let Foggy know.

“Oh you know, the usual. Karen left not too long after you, but I’m sure she’s told you that. Matt did seem a little off last night though.” He opens the door to his office, puts down his bag, and leans against the doorway of your office. “Oh?” You can’t tell what his comment made you feel. A cauldron of emotions swirl in your stomach. 

“Yeah, after you two left we kind of just sat there as he stared off into space. More so than usual.” Your mouth turned up slightly at his comment. You were a little confused though, there’s no reason that he would feel that way. Maybe something happened that day that you missed. Part of you started to regret going home early.

“So he… never went home with that woman? She was really gorgeous, that’s a shame.” “Yeah, I think he was too out of it to seal the deal. Something’s up with him, and I can’t quite place it. You’d think I knew my best friend a little better.” 

You gasp, faking offense. “I cannot believe you’d call him your best friend when I am right here Foggy.” The grin you were trying to hide to punctuate your teasing creeps up onto your face. Then the door opens. 



“I’m your best friend?” Speak of the devil and he shall arrive. He has on a crisp suit with a burgundy tie. It’s one of your favorite colors on him, it compliments his glasses. He has a large brown paper bag in his hands.

Foggy pauses for the briefest moment. “Yeah, you are. They left us last night at Josie’s all alone, so I think they deserve a demotion of the best friend title.”

“Yeah, well I had a headache, so you’re the bad friend for not being considerate of my feelings.” 

“Speaking of, why didn’t you say something before you left last night? I wanted to say goodnight.” Matt walked over and gently placed his hand on your shoulder. 

You could feel your heart start to pound, and you couldn’t discern whether it was over the touch or anxiety about the question that you didn’t want to admit the answer to. “Uh… well I didn’t really want to bother you. You seemed… preoccupied.” You force a smile.

“Well, you are more important than her. You should say something next time,” Your heart skips a beat, and his hand falls from your shoulder, “I, uh, I brought bagels for everyone.” As Matt shows everyone the bag, you see the logo of the bakery beneath your apartment.

“Thank you so much!” Foggy immediately goes to grab a bagel, and goes to his office, “No rest for the weary! I’m going to work on the Maddison case, you all should get to work soon too.” His office door shuts, and Karen nods.

“I should probably get to work too. I have a lot to do today.” You shoot her a glare, knowing that she’s just trying to get you two alone. She smirks, and you sigh as you watch her escape to her office.



“When did you go to the bakery?” You try to make your question nonchalant, but you can hear your voice betray your interest. “I guess after you left, since you weren’t there when I was there.”

“What, did you want me to be there?” You teased, but you could feel the rush of blood reach your cheeks. You silently prayed thanks that Matt could not see you.

“And what if I did?” Your breath catches in your throat. 

You quickly recompose yourself. “I mean that thought process is valid, I would want to see myself too.” You hope your smirk can cover the way you reacted to his statement.

“That’s where you have it wrong. I wouldn’t see you there,” A smug look forms on his face as you roll your eyes. 

“Whatever Matt.” 

“You love my jokes.”

You grab a bagel and usher him out of your room. “I actually have work to do, so I’ll talk to you later.”



Matt stiffens at the sound of a knock at his office door. He was so absorbed in the case he was reading that he tuned everything else out. He takes a second and recognizes Foggy at the door.

“Come in.” He raises his voice just a little so Foggy can hear him. 

“Hey, uh, Matt, can we talk?” Foggy shuts the door behind him and sits in front of Matt’s desk.

“Of course,” Matt shifts some of his papers, “What’s up?”

Foggy takes a deep sigh, and pauses before he forms his words, “You should tell them.”

Matt freezes. “W-what do you mean, Foggy?” He tries to laugh away the nervousness in his statement, and anyone else probably would have fallen for it.

“I said, you should tell them. It’s really obvious that you like them, and I can’t stand watching you two dance around each other’s feelings even though you share them.” Foggy seems sincere, but there’s some other emotion that leaves a subtle aftertaste in Matt’s mouth. 

“I know, they’re pretty damn good at hiding their emotions,” Foggy shifts in his seat to inch a little closer to Matt, “but I think it’s pretty obvious that they like you. Take it from their best friend.” “Hey, I thought you said that I was your best friend.”

“Well, you both are,” Foggy changes back to his more playful demeanor, “Anyways, here’s the plan. We’re going to order takeout for the office, and then Karen and I get pulled away by a phone call. Then you two will be all alone. You should say something or you’re probably going to regret it.” He stands up, and opens Matt’s door.

Matt can’t get a retort in before his door is open. “Alright, well, thanks for helping me out Foggy.” 



The smell of Chinese takeout hits your nose, and you immediately leave your office. “Thank God, I am so fucking starving.” “Yeah, well, don’t be too excited, because I actually got a call from a friend and they’re in the hospital right now,” Karen says, “So I’m going to go make sure they’re okay.” 

“Oh my God, is everything alright?” Your eyebrows furrow in concern. “Yeah, they said it’s just minor, but I just want to check on them. Here’s the takeout, have a nice dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Karen puts the takeout down onto the counter.

“Yeah, call me if you need anything Karen.” You change your phone from silent to vibrate as Karen scurries out of the office. Foggy and Matt step out of their offices as you start unpacking the food. Everyone has a usual order, and you set them out according to the order.

“Smells delicious. I heard Karen leaving?” Matt walks up, cane in hand, and grabs his order.

“Yeah, one of her friends is in the hospital. I hope they’re okay.” Your face is covered in worry, and you can only pick at your food. You hear the ring of a phone, and watch as Foggy picks it up.

“Hey man, what’s up? Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I’ll swing over right away. I’m so sorry, I totally forgot. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” He quickly hangs up the phone, “Sorry, I promised Tom I was going to help him move. I’ll see you both tomorrow though!” Foggy grabs his food and rushes out the door.



“And then there were two.” The corner of Matt’s mouth was slightly lifted.

“Yeah…” Your heart starts racing, and you silently are thankful that you get some time alone with him. The air is silent and awkward for a few minutes. You swallow hard, and decide to take a leap. It was now or never.

“Hey, uh, have you ever had this before?” You gesture towards your food, knowing that Matt could probably pick up on the context.

“No, actually. It smells really good though.” He smiles, and takes a bite of his own food.

“Would you like to try?” You start panicking slightly, but you’ve already taken the first step. You won’t back down now.

“Sure.” He grins at you, and your heart leaps. His smile has always been one of your favorite things about him.

You grab a piece of your food with your chopsticks, and walk towards him. 

“Open your mouth.” You lower your voice. 

He looks like he’s about to protest, but opens his mouth, and you place it on his tongue. He closes his mouth around your chopsticks, and you gently draw them out from between his lips. The face he makes is beautiful, and he makes a soft Mmm sound as he savors the food.

“This is really good. I can see why you order it.” “Do you want another taste?” You hold your breath. 

“Sure, you can have-” You cut him off with a kiss. 

You can taste the tang of the sauce on his lips, and you know he can too. The kiss feels like a sigh of relief. You’ve wanted to do this for such a long time, and although your nerves are tainting it, at least you’ll have done it at least once. You were kind of proud of yourself, usually Matt was the one with the smooth pickup lines. Yours wasn’t the best, but it was still pretty cheesy. You hear Matt set down his takeout container to pull you closer to him, deepening the kiss. You gently push away, and you rest your hands on his broad chest.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He barely breathes out, his voice so quiet you can barely hear him.

“I could say the same thing to you.” You grin, and his face mirrors yours.

[angst-cravings]

spooky

[angst-cravings]

let you break my heart again (1.5)

part 1 | part 2

summary: matt thinks back on every time he's wanted to be more than friends.

pairing: matt murdock x reader

words: 2.5k

an: parallel to part 1 but from matt's pov. this is a lot worse than part 1 lol, and it's more like a 1.5 - part one isn't necessary to read this and this won't be necessary to read before part 2. still gender neutral pronouns for reader and ex. additional info in tags

cw: mild angst, some explicit language, some brief allusions to sex but not really

Some day, one day, I will stop falling in love with you.

Right before Karen left, Matt left the woman he was flirting with to keep Foggy company. 

“Another beautiful woman, huh?” Foggy jokes.

“How would I even know?” The question comes out more like a statement. He knew that it was just Foggy teasing, but Matt felt a little defensive. 

“You’ve just had a lot more women in your bed lately, that’s all.” Matt sighs at Foggy’s words. 

Foggy was right, Matt had been sleeping with more women than he had in the past. But it was just to get you out of his head. Your heartbeat, your scent, your lingering touches, your voice. You. He knew he loved you, and that his feelings hadn’t been returned for as long as he’s known you. He’s spent so much time trying to replace you, but nothing ever felt right. No one was like you. Foggy snapped him back to reality.

“What’s been up with you lately?” Foggy felt better about asking now that the two of them were alone. Matt thinks about what he’s going to say. What could he even say? I’m in love with your childhood best friend? I’m in love with our partner in law? And I’ve loved them every single moment I’ve known them?

He knew he liked you since he first met you at Columbia. After meeting Foggy, you were just the cherry on top. He had heard your heart stutter at the sight of him, but it had quickly evened out. Maybe you were just shocked at his blindness. He was used to the second glances, the tiptoeing, the heartbeats that signaled discomfort at his condition. He didn’t know you well enough to know how your body reacted to certain things yet. 

“Matt Murdock, pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand for you to shake, and you grasped it firmly, introducing yourself in turn.

“They’ve been my best friend since elementary school,” Foggy added to your introduction.

“All the way to law school.” He could hear the smile in your statement. Matt knew all of this already, Foggy had talked his ear off about you. Foggy absolutely adored you, and Matt was frankly a little bit jealous of the relationship between you two. He hoped he’d become as close to you as Foggy is one day.

You didn’t react to him the same way that most people attracted to him did. He figured this was a good thing. Foggy said that you were off-limits. Even though Foggy barely knew him, he had picked up on his player tendencies. If you had been into him, he doesn’t think that he’d be able to keep himself to this promise. It broke his heart.

He knew he still liked you when you spent the night in his dorm for the first time. Foggy had gone home for a family birthday, and he heard a knock at his door. It couldn’t have been later than three in the morning. He opened the door to you, the smell of tears stinging his nose. He immediately swept you up into a hug.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I… I had a really bad nightmare. Can I stay with you? Just for a little bit? Usually, I go to Foggy, but…” He heard the hesitation in your voice, and his heart ached.

“Of course,” You two sat on the bed, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “Do you want to tell me about it?” He felt you shake your head silently against his chest. “That’s okay, we can just sit here.” And you did. He sat there and listened as your heartbeat slowed to a resting rate and your breathing returned to normal. 

You kept opening your mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come out. But he was patient and knew that if you wanted to say it, you would. After a few minutes, you finally murmured, “Do you mind if I spend the night, Matt? I-it’s okay if you don-”

He immediately cut you off. “Of course, you can,” His heart leaped at the idea, but he tried not to outwardly betray his emotions, “Do you… do you want me to sleep on the floor? Or…” He trailed off, hoping you would finish the sentence for him.

“Can you stay with me?” His heart broke at the tone of your voice.

“Of course.” 

You both lay on his bed for the rest of the night. Matt couldn’t sleep, even though you had fallen asleep quicker than he expected. He desperately tried to memorize this moment in case he’d never get it again. He closed his eyes as he processed the way your hair smelled, the way your skin feels, the gentle thump of your heartbeat, and the taste of salt still lingering in the air. Hopefully, he’d get this experience again without the salt. When you woke up, you were still in his arms, and you had turned over to him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry for waking you up so early in the morning. Usually Foggy helps me out, but… obviously, he isn’t here.”

“Did I do as good of a job?”

You paused, only to tease him in response. “Maybe once we do this a few more times you can be on the same level.”

He grinned. He’d love to be the person you leaned on when you needed help, but he couldn’t help but wish that you two could be more. It broke his heart.

He knew he still liked you about a year ago when you gave an opening statement in court. He could hear your heart pounding in your chest, but your voice stayed calm and collected. 

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, today I and my colleagues represent the defendant Mr. Marshall. The defendant stands here today accused of assault, a very serious offense. At the end of this trial, we are going to ask you to render a verdict of not guilty, the only appropriate verdict in this case.” He tried to stay focused as your voice floated around the courtroom. He wanted to focus on the heartbeats of the prosecution, but his mind always drifted back to yours. It had steadied out a little as you got more into the rhythm of the trial, though it stayed elevated. He could hear the satin of your clothing shift against each other as you walked and gestured. His hands twitched at the quiet swish, wanting to put his hands on you and feel the way the cloth draped onto your body. 

He watched as you deftly defended the client, smiling when you hit the key points. You both knew that you were prepared, but with each point, you felt far more confident in the outcome of the trial. It would take another day at least before they would be done with this case though, and he knew that you’d likely not sleep well. You never slept well when stressed. He let out a deep breath, wanting to be the one who would calm you down that night. The ache in his heart grew knowing that you’d be going home to your partner that night instead. 

That night he offered to walk you home. You retold the whole story of the courtroom, even though he had been there. He smiled at the exaggerations you gave, and he let himself melt into the arm that was guiding him. The satin felt so nice against his skin. 

“...and they’re making pizza for me tonight! From scratch!” You gushed over your partner, and his heart fell. For a moment he could pretend that you were his, but the reality of the situation was depressing. He felt as if he had lost you in a way. You pulled back from his and Foggy’s lives when you started dating your partner, and although you two still interacted often at the firm, it wasn’t the same as before. You skipped nights at Josie’s, you would work from home more often instead of late nights at the office, and you would invite him and Foggy to your apartment less and less. It broke his heart.

He knew he still liked you when you had confided in him that you and your partner were having relationship problems. He felt giddy at the thought, not even because he liked you. He missed the way you treated him before you were in a relationship.

“It’s just so fucking frustrating! I feel like they never listen to me! Like, I have an important job, and not that their job isn’t important, but I can’t just live at home from five in the afternoon to nine in the morning like they can! I’ve even cut back on my hours for them and it’s never fucking enough!” Your anger rose above the chatter of Josie’s. “If it was an issue, why didn’t they bring it up sooner? We’ve been dating for so long, why is it suddenly an issue now?”

Even though Matt was hopeful that your relationship will fail, he couldn’t help but sympathize with you. He’d heard the same complaint before, and he knew how much this hurt you. “They just don’t understand the pressures we’re under.”

“I know! It’s so…” You took a sip of your beer. “It’s so annoying! Sorry I care about my fucking career!” He placed a hand on your shoulder.

“You two will be okay. I’m sure they just want to see you more.”

“I know, it’s just-” You hissed through your teeth, “You’re right. Thank you, Matt.” He felt the micro changes in your skin temperature as you started to calm down. 

“Let’s go for a walk. Take your mind off of things.” He stood up and you offered your arm to him as he picked up his cane. He gives you directions to the pier, and you walk along the Hudson. 

“Feels like old times,” You said, and he smiled.

“Yeah. I missed this.” The quiet felt thick in the air. “I missed you.” He mumbled.

“Hmm?” The ambient noise muffled what he said, and you didn’t pick it up.

“I just repeated myself, that’s all” He lied through his teeth, and he couldn’t tell if you could discern it. If you did, you chose not to press the topic.

“Sometimes I wish I could just date you,” His walking stuttered at your statement, and he glued his mouth shut while waiting for you to elaborate, “Like, you’re a lawyer too. You work long hours. You’re smart and handsome and considerate. You have really pretty eyes.” You were definitely drunker than he thought.

He tries to brush you off. “I’d be an awful boyfriend.” 

“Nuh-uh.” You didn’t know about his nightly escapades. You couldn’t know how true the statement was.

“Yes, I would be. You should be grateful you have your current partner, they’re much better than I could ever be.” Bitterness lined his words, something he could tell you didn’t pick up on by your body language.

“Aw, Matty, I’m sure that isn’t true. I guess you’d at least probably be a good fuck, considering the amount of women you bring home.” 

He wanted to say “I only take them home because I can’t have you.” Instead, he bit his tongue and forced a breathy laugh from his lips. 

“Well, I guess do have a lot of practice.” The smile he forced burned his cheeks. It broke his heart.

He knew he still liked you tonight. You all had finished up a very tough case and had won. You four were sitting at a table at the bar nursing your beers and talking about the case, how he had made an excellent defense, how Karen had found the most important fact that won the case, how Foggy had crafted an excellent opening statement, and how you were the perfect liaison between the firm and the client. 

“To us!” Foggy raises his beer as a toast.

“To us!” Everyone echoes, and he could hear the smile in your voice. You two had made small talk while Karen and Foggy had started a debate about something he had no knowledge of.

“Just like old times, huh?” You mused.

“Yeah, well, we’ve had a pretty good streak of losses lately. Feels good to win again.”

“I know. I couldn’t help but blame myself every time we lost. I’m sure you felt the same way. It’s hard to not take it personally.” He was always astonished at how you were always thinking exactly what he was thinking. Your word phrasing even mirrored his occasionally, “I’ll get us another round of drinks, you still want a beer?”

He nodded, and let his ears follow you towards the bar. He overheard someone hitting on you while you were ordering drinks, and he clenched his jaw. He had no right to be jealous, and his anger quickly transitioned to sadness.

“Look, maybe they’ll be able to get us free drinks!” Foggy took notice of the way the person was flirting with you too. He was far more lighthearted about it, and he walked up to the bar to get into earshot of your conversation

“Yeah, well…” He trailed off, not really knowing where he wanted to lead his quip.

“...Are you jealous, Matt?” Karen lowered her voice, and although her voice still had a twinge of playfulness, it was only to soften the seriousness of her question.

“I- I- no, no, you’ve got it wrong. I just- I just-” He chuckled to try to mislead her.

“You fucking like them!” Karen raised her voice a little louder than Matt would have hoped.

“No, no, I just… see, I’ll prove it.” It was supposed to be a night of celebration. But he couldn’t help it, he was desperately seeking an escape from his heart. So he picked a random woman, one whose heartbeat rose when she looked at him and walked over near her to chat her up. He couldn’t tell if your reaction was solely from your alcohol or something else. You were always hard to read when you were drunk, your heart spiked at random things and your body language was much looser than he was used to. 

He immediately knew Karen was scheming, and you and Foggy quickly came back with some beers. Even though he was focusing on the woman in front of him, his hearing kept lingering on your conversation.

“Hey guys, I think I’m going to head out after this one, I’m starting to get a headache.” Lie.

“Aw, are you sure? Maybe a couple more drinks will take it away!” Foggy pushed lightly. Matt knew that Foggy would never push you too much, but he was still slightly annoyed that Foggy said that, even if you were lying.

“Do you want one of us to walk you home?” Karen was so gentle with her question, it made Matt smile ever so slightly.

“No, no, you guys stay out and celebrate! I’ll see you all tomorrow morning.” 

The woman in front of him brought him back.

“Sorry, I couldn’t really hear you over everyone else. What did you say again?” He lied. He heard you leave Josie’s, and he kept you in the back of his head until he could no longer hear your footsteps. His heart broke. 

“What’s been up with you lately?”

“I don’t know Foggy.” A lie. He paused. “Just dealing with some heartbreak recently.”

Until I do, I'll be thinking of you.

Let you break my heart again.

part 2

[angst-cravings]

let you break my heart again (1)

part 1.5 | part 2

summary: you're forced to come to terms with your feelings for matt murdock

pairing: matt murdock x reader

words: 2.5k

an: first fanfic, non-canon timeline, reader, Foggy, and Karen are unaware of Matt’s abilities, gender-neutral pronouns used for reader and ex, additional info in tags

cw: mild angst, slight explicit language, alcohol use, unrequited love (?)

One day I will stop falling in love with you. Someday, someone will like me like I like you.

You stand alone in your apartment, leaning against the countertop, sipping on coffee and eating pie from downstairs. Memories from Josie’s earlier tonight replay in your head. The gentle laughter of your friend Matt as your friends Foggy and Karen tease him over something you don’t even remember. You can’t help but smile at the thought, with a little bit of shame burning the back of your neck.  

You went to Columbia Law with your friend Foggy. You two had been best friends since you were young, and you two complimented each other perfectly. When he introduced you to Matt, he just became another puzzle piece that slotted perfectly into your friendship. 

It was nice to have friends that cared about you so much through law school, a time that you struggled with, as most students do. You were amazing, but it didn’t come to you naturally. Many nights were spent in the library with tears welling up in your eyes, and you nearly tore your hair out every night trying to wrap your head around the topics you were so passionate about. 

But they were always there for you. 

You wished that you could tell Foggy or Matt about what you had been going through lately, but you knew it would strain your relationship. You were hyper-aware that Foggy would be disappointed. He had always been scared that Matt would sweep you away from him. If you confessed these feelings to him, he’d be happy for you, but the tiniest part of him would be disappointed. You were his best friend, and although Matt had always gotten the girls, at least Foggy had the comfort that you never dated Matt.

To be fair, in law school, you didn’t have a crush on Matt. You two had flirted occasionally, but no more than you did any other guy at the bar you wanted free drinks from. But due to a recent breakup, your heart had started to flutter at things it never had before.

His smiles when one of his friends enters a room. His soft, bashful chuckles when one of you teases him. His tone when he shoots a comeback. His hand holding your arm as you guide him to his apartment. His arms wrapped around you when you need to cry.

You consider yourself lucky to have your ducks all in a row—except for this. You had your own firm with your best friends, defending the innocent like you had pledged to do when you were studying for the LSATs. You had a decent apartment for Hell’s Kitchen, right above a local bakery. Your life was pretty damn good, and you were fine this way. You didn’t want to do anything to fuck this up.

You knew Matt didn’t like you back. You’ve heard the way he’s felt about women before, and you knew it didn’t describe how he feels about you. The way he flirts with them is different from the way he flirts with you. 

Lately, he’s met women at Josie’s, and the morning after you’ll hear Foggy tease Matt about the tryst the night before. You’d analyze the way he talked to her, the way his body language shifted around her, and you knew that it wasn’t the way he treated you. You always go silent during the morning debriefs, just stirring your coffee, smiling, and nodding along. Then you’d go to your office and work on the case, and try to deny the jealousy you felt writhing in your stomach. 

A knock at the door snaps you back to reality. You walk to the door and open it up to Karen. Karen Page. She had quickly become one of your closest friends once she joined the firm. You had even coached her on her feelings for Matt, though at the time it didn’t pain you as much as it would now. 

“We need to talk.” She says to you, concern lacing her words. You had left Josie’s early, claiming a headache, and refusing to let anyone walk you home. Matt had slipped away from you three and started flirting with a beautiful woman, and you couldn’t handle it, not after such a hard and disappointing case. Karen knew you too well though. She probably left not too long after you did.

“Come in.” You gesture her through the doorway and shut it behind her.

“I just noticed for the first time tonight. How long have you liked him?” She slides her blazer off her body and lays it on one of your chairs before she sits down. You take a second to consider her question.

It could have been last week when you ran into him at the bakery below you. You four had gone there a few times, but you usually wouldn’t see your friends there since it was in the opposite direction from the office. You, however, went there every morning and picked up breakfast before heading to the office. You were checking your phone while waiting for your order, doing some research on your client before work when you heard Matt’s voice order some fresh bagels. Was he here for you? It wouldn’t make sense if he had come just for the bagels, there were bakeries closer to the office. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought. You looked up and saw him pay the cashier, and as he moved to wait for his order you walked over to him and greeted him.

“Matt, what are you doing here?”

“Getting bagels for everyone.” You watched as he turned his head towards you, your heart fluttering at the smile he gave you. 

“Foggy will be happy about that.” A soft chuckle fell from his lips.  

“No more joking that Landman & Zack was a better deal than us.” He gestured his cane to accent his point. Your orders came out at the same time as a fresh batch exited the oven. “Do you mind if I walk you to the office?”

You couldn’t help but tease him for the request. “Are you sure I won’t be the one leading you to the office?”

He feigned offense at your joke, “What are you insinuating? That I can’t handle myself? I’m a big boy, you know.” Your heart jumped at the way he teased you back. You scolded yourself. You reacted three times in just a few minutes to him. You silently thanked God that at least you could keep your physical reactions private, as they would immediately give you away. 

You put his hand on your arm, and you both started walking toward the office, chatting with each other about the cases on the docket. 

It could have been a few months ago when you and your ex had broken up. You two had fallen out of love, and it had been mostly mutual, but it still hurt to leave someone who had been your second half for such a long time. You had Foggy, Karen, and Matt over to your apartment later that night so you could drink your sorrows away. They all had taken turns making fun of your ex, saying that they weren’t right for you, that you deserved better. You knew this wasn’t true, but you still smiled appreciatively at the gesture. Karen was the first to leave, she had an investigation she wanted to get an early start on the next morning. Then Foggy left, he was going to have a meeting with a client and he wanted to get a full night’s rest. They left just the two of you in your apartment sitting on your couch with beers in hand. 

“Fuck them.” You faked your anger, knowing it felt better than sadness. You paused and sat as the alcohol coaxed you into spilling your real feelings. “I loved them. So much. I can’t believe it’s just over.” He moved closer to you to place a hand on your shoulder.

“I know. Breakups are hard, especially when you both love each other. But you'll push through. You’re an amazing person. You’re one of the strongest people I know. One of the best.” Matt’s words were reassuring, but they just caused tears to form in your eyes. 

“...Can I hug you?” Your eyes started overflowing as you made this simple request.

“Of course.” He set both of your beers down on your coffee table and moved closer to you to scoop you into his arms. Your head and hand rested against his chest as you let the tears fall. You felt bad from soaking his nice button-up, but your sadness overpowered your reservations. You two stayed like this for a while, and you took comfort in the way he rubbed circles into your shoulder and the gentle rhythm of his heart. 

You felt comfortable with him in a way you didn’t with anyone else. Not Karen, not Foggy, not even your ex. 

It could have been about a year ago. You and Matt had gone on a trip to a nearby state for a case that you were working on. Although he was being tried in New York, your client was being held in a prison in Detroit temporarily. Foggy and Karen stayed back to hold the fort and work on other cases while you two spent a few days in Detroit. The drive was painfully long, and at the end of the day, you couldn’t wait to stretch your legs and walk around. You had to guide Matt, something you haven’t had to do in recent times. He hasn’t been somewhere that he didn’t know like the back of his hand in a while, and you relished the feeling of his hand on your arm.

You had booked a hotel room for the two of you, with two queens. However, when you checked in, your heart sank. 

“I’m sorry, but due to a shutdown in our system, we are overbooked. We tried to contact everyone affected, but I guess you must have missed it. We have a room available with a single king though, will that be alright?”

Matt immediately spoke up. “That will be alright, thank you.” You frowned, wishing he had maybe consulted you. 

After checking in, you two walked to your hotel room. “How did you know I would be okay with this?” You could hear the slight tinge of annoyance in your voice.

“I was going to sleep on the floor. You’ll get the whole bed to yourself, your partner won’t have anything to worry about.” Did you imagine the disdain in his voice?

“No, I can’t let you do that. I can sleep on the floor, or we can share the bed. We’ve done it before at Columbia, it’s purely platonic. They’ll understand.” You opened the door to the hotel room and then closed it behind the two of you. You gently guided Matt around the room and described the locations of everything to him, followed by descriptors of appearance.

After guiding him around, you took a shower and changed into your pajamas. “So am I sleeping on the floor? Or are we sharing the bed?”

Matt grabbed the pillows off of the bed and placed them on the floor. “I don’t want to make you or your partner uncomfortable. I’ll sleep on the floor, I’ll be fine.” You shook your head and picked up the pillows.

“It’ll be fine. Let’s share the bed.” Your heart rate rose at the thought, and you thanked God that Matt couldn’t see you blush. You had a partner, one you loved very much. You shouldn’t be thinking this way. 

Matt changed and slid onto his side of the mattress, leaving plenty of room between the two of you. You fell asleep watching his face and hoped that in the morning, your heart would return to normal. You woke up like you often did at Columbia, in his arms. Platonically. 

It could have been a few years ago. It was right after you all got the news that you passed the bar. You had gone to a bar to celebrate, and you had taken a few too many shots. Foggy and Matt insisted on walking you home, and you leaned on the two of them to keep your balance. Every time you saw someone while walking home, you cheered “We passed the bar!!” and if the person was nice, they’d smile, or maybe even cheer with you. As you stumbled, Matt kept a steady grip on your hand. Even in your drunken stupor, you blushed and pushed away the thought immediately.

“You guys are the best. I love you two.” You slurred as you made it to the front door of your apartment.

“I love you too! You’re the best friend a guy could ever ask for,” Foggy said in a voice that was a little too loud for the time of day, “Except for maybe you Matt!”

Matt laughed. His beautiful laugh. “No, I think you’re right. They are the best friend a guy could ask for.” You suddenly stand up straight after leaning on Matt, your face dangerously close to his. Maybe you imagined it in a drunken haze, but you could have sworn that Matt blushed. You shook the thought away and made space between the two of you. 

“Do you two want to come in?” You asked as you fumbled with your keys, missing the lock a few times. 

“I should probably be going to bed. Thanks for the invite though! I will see you soon!” Foggy walked away from your door without Matt, though you know he won’t go far without him.

Matt stepped closer to you, mimicking the distance you had placed between the two of you earlier. A blush crept up your face. “Goodnight. Congratulations again. You’re going to be an amazing lawyer.” He placed a hand on your cheek. You could feel your heart pound in your chest. 

“You too.” You whispered back. You quickly turned and walked into your apartment before you made a mistake that sober you would regret in the morning.

You never had a crush on him in law school. Or maybe that was a lie you told yourself to save your friendships. It could have been that you had a crush on him from the first moment you saw him. From the first moment you saw red light dancing on his face from his glasses. From the first moment you saw his smile. Fuck.

“I don’t know,” You picked at your pie, and paused, “Maybe I’ve fallen for him every day since I met him.”

Until then, I’ll drink my coffee, eat my pie, pretend that we are more than friends.

Then of course I’ll let you break my heart again.

part 1.5 | part 2