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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 11 months ago

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Sweet on You, Chapter 1

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Rating: M (Rating Subject to Change)

Story Summary: You had joined 'Sugar and Spice' in a desperate attempt to help your mother with her medical bills, so when an opportunity comes along to make a lot of money simply by spending time with a lonely attorney, you jump at the chance -- not expecting to fall for him in the process.

Tired of one-night-stands, Matt Murdock decides to sign up for a sugar daddy/sugar baby website, where he stumbles across your profile. However, despite making it clear that he only wants a platonic arrangement, Matt eventually finds himself falling for you.

Will the two of you be able to come to a permanent arrangement or will more than a contract be broken?

Warnings/Tags: Sugar Daddy!Matt Murdock, No Age Gap, Alternating PoV, No Use of Y/N

Word Count: ~1100

A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged the teaser! A few notes before we dive in:

-- While Reader's age is not actually specified in this, it's stated several times that she's closer to Matt's age than most women on the 'Sugar and Spice' website.

-- Matt & Reader do not actually refer to each other as their sugar baby/sugar daddy (although for all intents and purposes, that's what they are).

-- Divider is by the insanely talented (and just as awesome IRL as she is on Tumblr) @theradioactivespidergwen!

-- This is rated M for now, however rating may possibly go up in later chapters. 😈

-- If you'd like to be added to the taglist or if I've tagged you by mistake, please let me know!

Tag List: @danzer8705 @capylore @shouldbestudying41 @atemydadforbreakfast

No, it's fine, Mom, I promise,” you said as you spoke to your mother over the phone. “It's not your fault you got laid off and lost your medical insurance right before you got sick.”

“It's not your responsibility to pay my medical bills, sweetheart,” your mother protested. “I'll come up with the money somehow.”

You shook your head even though you knew your mother couldn't see you. “You’ve sacrificed so much for me, Mom. Let me do this for you.”

Your mother sighed. “Okay, fine. But only because you just got that big raise at work.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. Lucky me. Listen, Mom, I have to go, but I'll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

You hung up and blew out a breath. You knew your mother wouldn't approve if you told her the real way you had been affording to make payments towards her medical debt for the past several months.

The truth was that your job as an administrative assistant barely even covered your own bills, so you had been supplementing your income through alternative means.

You had joined Sugar and Spice after one of the junior admin assistants had confided in you that she had managed to put herself through college by dating rich older men for money. “It's actually not a bad gig,” she had told you. “Most of them really just want arm candy to show off to their friends.”

You had gone home that night and checked out the website, and after discovering that you could select your comfort level/how far you were willing to go (by indicating that you were into either ‘sugar’ or ‘spice’) you had signed up.

It had been working out okay -- you had only been making a few hundred dollars extra a month so far because most of the men on Sugar and Spice wanted someone much younger than you were, but you had at least been able to scrape together enough to make the monthly payments on your mother's medical bills.

And speaking of…

You grabbed your laptop and pulled it over to you, then navigated to your Sugar and Spice account, pleased when you saw that you had gotten a new inquiry.

You clicked on it.

Hi, the message read, I ran across your profile and I think you might be what I'm looking for. If you're interested and available please message me back at your earliest convenience. Thank you.

You huffed out a laugh. Usually the messages you received weren't quite so… polite, so to speak.

You clicked on the sender's profile.

Matthew, 35

Occupation: Attorney

Interested in: Sugar

Huh. Matthew was a lot younger than most of the men who frequented the site. Maybe that'll be a good thing.

You clicked the reply button. Hi, Matthew, you typed. I am available if you'd like to discuss things further.

You got up to fix yourself some tea, and by the time you came back you had another message from Matthew. Great! Is it okay if we meet in person to discuss possible terms of an agreement? Over coffee, maybe?

Okay, you replied once again. When and where would you like to meet?

The Brew Towers on Saturday, say, 9 AM?

That works for me.

Your eyebrows raised as a notification popped up stating that you had received $100 from Matthew.

As a sign of good faith , Matthew explained. See you Saturday.

See you Saturday.

You logged out and closed your laptop, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. This was the first time you'd be meeting a potential client in person and needless to say, you were nervous.

Matt sat back and took another sip of the glass of whiskey he had poured himself before he had signed up on Sugar and Spice. He had been in court earlier that day and had overheard a conversation during recess between opposing counsel about Nesbit’s much-younger girlfriend.

“How'd an old dog like you manage to score a hot piece of ass like that?” Peterson had asked jokingly.

Nesbit had chuckled. “You'd be amazed at what you can find on the internet these days. Let's just say Candy and I have a… business arrangement.”

Peterson had dropped his voice down to a whisper. “She's not an escort, is she? You know the partners don't want wind of any kind of impropriety possibly getting out to the public--”

Nesbit had made a dismissive sound. “No, nothing like that. You ever heard of Sugar and Spice, that website that connects men of a certain wealth and caliber with women who are looking for someone to take care of them? Well, Candy and I met there. She takes care of my needs, and I take care of hers.”

“So, what, you pay her to date you?”

“In a way. I keep her happy by giving her money and buying her things, and she lets me do whatever else I want when I'm not with her.”

Matt's eyebrows had furrowed. Maybe Nesbit had a point -- maybe it was easier to have a business arrangement with someone in order to fill the romantic void in his life rather than having to pick up a different woman every couple of weeks because they got too attached. Better to have someone who knows exactly what they're getting into.

As soon as he had gotten home he had looked up Sugar and Spice, and not finding anything in their terms and conditions that raised red flags, had signed up and began to browse through profiles.

After scrolling through profiles for over an hour and not finding anyone that piqued his interest he had almost gone ahead and given up when his voiceover function read out another profile header to him, this time for a woman who was at least closer to Matt's own age than all of the other women he had checked out.

He had listened to your profile then clicked the “Send Message” button, typing out a quick message and hitting send.

He had gone to answer the door for a delivery, and by the time he had gotten back to his laptop he’d had a reply.

Before he could second-guess himself Matt had asked you out for coffee, then sent $100 to your Sugar and Spice account to show you he was sincere.

He shut his laptop and stood, then headed to go shower and get ready to go out as Daredevil. He'd gotten a tip about a major drug shipment coming in through the docks that evening and needed to go stop it.

He'd worry about his love life later.

#lotmf writes #Sweet On You Masterlist #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader

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ithebookhoarder · 1 year ago

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A Whole Latte Love to Give 🍁 (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Description: You hate running late to work as it means you don't have time to stop for coffee - and what's worse, it's your favourite coffee season too.

A/N: It's Autumn and I'm a coffee addict so this felt right 😅 In fact, if anyone brings me coffee in the morning they are automatically my favourite for life 💕

Warnings: Swearing, references to smut, I think that's it.

Masterlist

You hated running late.

It was frustrating and meant you had to sprint to make sure you made it to the subway on time to get across town to your office. You’d also then end up arriving with your hair all over the place, out of breath, and normally dripping with an uncomfortable amount of sweat.

That alone would have been bad but when your boyfriend/boss had the super nose of a blood hound, it actually made you want to curl up into a ball and melt into the carpet.

Needless to say, you were having one of those days today. The alarm hadn’t gone off and you had barely had enough time to put a comb through your hair, let alone grab some form of breakfast, or more importantly, coffee.

You were embarrassed to admit how heavily you’d come to rely on the caffeinated beverage but honestly? It was all that kept you running most days. Besides, this was New York. People here were used to drinking it like it was water - which is to say you were struggling by the time you made it up the stairs to Nelson & Murdock. Worse still was the fact that you’d passed your favourite coffee shop on the corner as you’d sprinted to make it to your first meeting of the day.

The bright fall leaves glued in the window were mocking you as they declared the arrival of the season and with it, their drinks menu - including your favourite drink of all time: a pumpkin spice latte.

Yeah, that particularly stung as you had to physically drag yourself away, knowing you didn’t have the time. Damn it.

You’d have to wait til lunch to treat yourself and mark a start to your favourite season - a thought that had you grumbling to yourself as you finally made it up the stairs and to your office.

Thankfully, it was quiet when you pushed the door open and managed to drop your bag at your desk. No clients were sat waiting for you, ready to berate you for clocking in a whole five minutes late, which was a huge relief.

In fact, the only other person who appeared to be in the office at all was Matt - and even he seemed to have only just arrived, given the fact he hadn’t even taken off his coat yet. How strange. Normally he’d have been here a good twenty minutes or so already, having barely stopped long enough at his apartment for a quick power nap.

Maybe he was also running late this morning?

“Morning, Matt,” you sighed, by way of greeting. “Sorry, my stupid phone didn’t charge last night so I missed my alarm. I only woke up because the asshole builders outside my place decided to start construction a whole hour earlier than normal, which is a pain but kinda saved my ass in the end. I mean, thanks to them I at least had time to brush my teeth but that was it if I was going to make the subway- Oh!“

You stopped.

You stared down at your desk, surprised to see the steaming plastic cup sitting waiting for you. You were even more surprised to see your name scribbled on top, as well as your order printed on the side: a large Pumpkin Spice Latte.

“Is this for me?” you blinked, turning your gaze across the room. “You got me coffee?”

“I figured you wouldn’t have time,” Matt shrugged, in true Matt fashion. He always underplayed it whenever he did something for you. He never saw it as a big deal, whether it was taking a bullet for you or just grabbing your dry-cleaning. “You’re always in before I am unless you’re alarm fails to go off so… I grabbed you a coffee when I grabbed myself one. Don’t worry about it.”

“But … you got my favourite? You remembered?”

Matt laughed, holding his hand over his chest as he gasped in mock hurt. “Your surprise wounds me, sweetheart.”

“Oh, hush. It takes more than that to hurt the big bad Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, Matty.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. You’re kind of my weak spot.”

His admission tugged at your heart and it was hard to hide the resulting grin, especially when he followed the words by stealing a kiss and pulling you into his arms.

This was always the best part of your morning routine, stealing a moment together before Foggy and Karen arrived. Just a perfect moment of peace, where nothing else existed other than the two of you. It was as if the world had stopped, just for a second, and there was no crazy crime bosses trying to kill you both, bills to pay, or clients in need of your help.

You were simply two people in love, starting another day at work with a cup of coffee.

“Have I told you today that you’re the best?” you hummed.

“Not today, I don’t think.”

“Well then, I’m telling you now. You’re my hero - my coffee grabbing hero.”

“At your service,” Matt chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But, you do know there’s an easier solution to this, right? One that would cut your commute in half and allow you ample time to get coffee in the morning?”

“Oh, what’s that? Super speed? Or are you going to show me how to parkour my way across rooftops?”

“Actually… I was thinking you could move in with me?”

You stopped.

Your head lifted so you could look him right in the eye. For a second you couldn’t tell if you’d misheard him or even just imagined it. “Are - are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he teased, his nerves showing as he waited for your answer. “Which is incidentally what you’ll have if you keep on drinking nothing but coffee all the time.”

“You are such a hypocrite, Murdock-”

“So what? That a deal breaker?”

“No,” you gasped, meaning every word. It was true. There was no force on earth that could drive you away from the man you were blessed to call your own. “I think, that actually sounds like a pretty good idea to me.”

“Wait, is that a yes?”

“Yes, Matt. It’s a yes.”

It was about a week later that you finally made the move a reality.

You spent the Saturday, assisted by a giddy Foggy and Karen, moving your boxes up the flights of stairs to Matt's apartment. They were only too eager to facilitate the pair of you finally moving in together (a fact proven by the fact you caught Foggy handing Karen a $50 bill. She had apparently bet you'd move in together before the end of the year).

"I had you down for six months ago," Foggy had grumbled, rolling his eyes at Karen's triumphant cheers. "Not my fault you two move at the pace of a glacier."

Still, you knew he was only joking. He was second only to Matt in his enthusiasm, helping move your worldly belongings about the apartment that was now also your home.

"I'm just going to run down and grab the last box from the van," you called, stepping out into the hallway and leaving the three of them to it.

However, you'd only made it a step when you heard someone calling your name.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

You turned and smiled at the kindly elderly woman who you knew to be Matt's closest neighbour. "Hi there, Mrs Manning."

You'd run into her a few times since you and Matt had started dating. She was a kind old soul who had been widowed sometime last year. Now, it was just her and her cat Tigger who resided in their apartment - and she had a real soft spot for your boyfriend.

"You doing ok?"

"Fine, thank you, dear," she smiled, gesturing to the few cardboard boxes still sat by the front door. "Those yours?"

"Uh, yes," you nodded awkwardly, sliding your hands into your pockets, “I’m actually moving in.”

"Well, finally. It was about time," she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Now I can have you both over for dinner. It'll be nice for me and for that darling boy in there to have some company. He always spends too much time alone. I swear, he is wasting away - never any meat on those bones of his."

"We'd love to come to dinner," Matt answered smoothly, opening the door and popping his head out with a stealth you still couldn't get used to. He must have heard you talking from the other side of the door. "And don't worry, Mrs Manning, we'll both take good care of each other."

"Good good - and don't worry, I'll have my music playing nice and loud for most of the night so make all the noise you need," she teased, winking cheekily at the pair of you before turning back towards her apartment.

You and Matt were left standing there, speechless.

"I'll see you lovebirds later."

#ithebookhoarder #masterlist #thesilentmage #marvel #marvel x reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #marvel daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil #marvel imagines #charlie cox #foggy nelson #karen page #fluff #flufftober

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theetherealbloom · 2 months ago

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NOTRE DAME - CH. 8

Chapter 8: We’re Nothing But Myths Now That Neither Of Us Believe In

Summary: In the rafters of Clinton Church, a mysterious reader with magic and the power of illusion manipulation silently watches over Matt Murdock, the blind vigilante known as Daredevil. As danger engulfs Hell's Kitchen, their unlikely friendship blossoms into a bond of trust and longing, intertwining their fates in a battle against darkness that tests their resolve. Will their connection illuminate a path to salvation in a city of darkness or lead them deeper into the abyss?

Paring: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt to Comfort, ANGST, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, Religion, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Anxiety, PSTD, Nightmares, Catholic Guilt, Amnesia, Violence, Blood, Dark Undertones, Eventual SMUT, Shy Reader, Mentions of Abuse, Criminal Activities, Mobsters/Mafia, Character Death, Slowish Burn (I lied it’s a SLOW BURN), Disassociation, Magic, Superpowers, Insecurities, Guns, Bullets,

Word Count: 7.3k

A/N: WELCOME TO S2!!! I TOOK A LONG ASS BREAK FROM THIS STORY IM SORRY!! At some point, I got stuck and was so scared to keep writing… ANYWAYS “Started making it… had a breakdown… Bon Appetit. 🙂”

Song: Hurt by Sleeping At Last

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

A FEW MONTHS LATER…

KAMAR-TAJ, NEPAL — SUNSET

"Again."

Your frustration boiled over as you let your hands fall to your sides, the faint shimmer of your magic fading into the morning air. With a heavy sigh, you cast an irritated glance skyward, then towards Ancient One's patient gaze meeting yours.

"Again," she repeated, her tone unwavering.

Months had passed since the apprehension of Wilson Fisk, yet your progress in mastering the art of teleportation remained agonizingly slow.

"What if I just throw myself off the temple?" you quipped, a trace of exasperation in your voice.

"Perhaps you should. Sometimes, the greatest lessons come from unexpected places," came the Ancient One's cryptic response.

You groaned audibly, clearly expressing how frustrated you were. "This is hopeless. We’ve been at this for months, and I can barely teleport across the courtyard."

"You need to focus. It's a miracle you didn't end up scattered across the multiverse on your first attempt at teleportation without a sling ring," the Ancient One remarked, her voice tinged with a blend of patience and admonishment.

Your eyes closed in frustration, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you hung your head, shoulders weighed down by the burden of your struggles. Sensing your inner turmoil, the Ancient One regarded you with a penetrating gaze.

"Is this about Matthew?" she inquired, her tone gentle yet probing.

Your arms folded defensively across your chest, you shot her a guarded look. "I do not want to discuss my personal life with you," you retorted.

Undeterred, the Ancient One raised an eyebrow, prompting you to relent. With a resigned grimace, you approached and seated yourself beside her on the steps of the temple courtyard.

"I haven't told him yet," you admitted, the pressure of your unspoken truth evident in your troubled expression.

"And I'm terrified of what comes next. I have a feeling that our encounter with Fisk was merely the beginning of something far greater than any of us," you confessed, anxiety lacing your words.

The Ancient One regarded you with a pitying expression, her gaze fixed upon you as she spoke, her voice carrying an otherworldly resonance. "Prophet girl, anointed by the One Above All," she began, her words imbued with a sense of ancient wisdom. "Do you hear the gods muttering their faint starlight words? Destined daughter, muttering insanities no one believes,” she continued, her tone tinged with sorrow. "Do you regret taking the vow?"

Your jaw clicked with tension, but you remained silent, unable to muster a response. As the Ancient One turned to leave, her form blending seamlessly with the shifting rays of the setting sun, you were left alone with your thoughts. The golden hues of twilight painted the landscape, casting long shadows across the temple courtyard as the day drew to a close.

A WEEK LATER…

2624 BROADWAY, NEW YORK — EVENING

The golden portal sealed shut with a soft hum as you trudged through the alleyway, the cool air of the night enveloping you. Casting a cautious glance around, you found the dimly lit alley deserted except for a stray cat rummaging through a nearby dumpster.

Though you could have requested to be sent back to the church, you opted for a solitary stroll to clear your head, despite the lingering soreness in your muscles. With a resigned sigh, you rolled your shoulders back and stepped onto the bustling streets, seamlessly blending into the flow of pedestrians.

The silence was broken abruptly by the cracking sound of gunfire coming from behind you and a terrified cry from a lady. Whipping around, your senses heightened as you spotted a group of armed robbers clad in ski masks, each clutching a silver briefcase tightly in one hand and brandishing a gun in the other. Reacting instinctively, you extended your arm, swiftly maneuvering bystanders out of harm's way as the robbers barrelled past.

Moments later, the urgent wail of police sirens pierced the air, signaling the arrival of law enforcement. Two officers darted into view, hot on the heels of the fleeing robbers. Yet, before they could apprehend the criminals, a sudden gunshot rang out, causing one of the officers to stagger and fall to the ground.

Amid the chaos, you swiftly directed one of the bystanders, your voice firm and authoritative, as you dashed past them in pursuit of the fleeing robbers. "Call 911! And apply pressure on that wound!" you instructed urgently, your words punctuated by the urgency of the situation.

Navigating through the bustling streets with purposeful strides, you veered into a nearby alley, utilizing it as a shortcut. With a deft flick of your hand, you manipulated the fabric of your clothes, transforming them into a cloak that billowed around you as you emerged from the shadows. Spotting a police officer kneeling on the ground, vulnerable to the imminent threat posed by the robber's gun, you felt a surge of energy course through you.

With swift precision, you seized the assailant from the shadows, pulling him into the confines of the alleyway. The dim light cast eerie shadows across your features as you unleashed a flurry of strikes, each blow calculated and purposeful, momentarily subduing the robber.

However, your solitary vigilante act was short-lived, as the distinctive presence of Daredevil materialized beside you, his imposing figure radiating an aura of determination. With a fluid motion, he intervened, swiftly incapacitating the assailant with a decisive blow before turning his attention to the pursuit of the remaining robbers.

"I was wondering when you would show up," you remarked, your voice tinged with the subtle distortion of your powers. Daredevil's lips curled into a smirk, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he regarded you.

"Missed me, angel?" he teased, his voice laced with a playful undertone.

Tilting your head slightly, you lowered your hood, revealing a fraction more of your face as you shrugged nonchalantly. "And if I did?" you countered, your tone laced with a hint of shyness.

His lips curled into a charming smile, a glint of mischief in his tone. "Then I'd have to kiss you," he quipped, his tone playful yet suggestive.

You responded with a playful roll of your eyes, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. With a light bump of your hip against his, you teased, "Let's deal with these guys first, and then we can discuss dinner plans."

You and Daredevil dashed into the bustling kitchen of a Chinese restaurant, slipping through the backdoor with practiced ease. In perfect synchrony, you swiftly engaged the assailants, each movement calculated and precise. With a surge of power, you ignited your hands, the iridescent glow casting an ethereal light as you delivered a series of decisive blows, swiftly incapacitating your opponent and leaving them to the restaurant staff as they began to gang up on him.

You and Matt burst back onto the chaotic streets, a whirlwind of action and determination. Matt swiftly dealt with one of the robbers with a decisive blow, rendering him unconscious as you raced past. You spotted the final assailant, his grip tight around the arm of a woman conversing with her friends outside a building. Without hesitation, he dragged her hostage, disappearing into a nearby church.

You cast a glance at Matt, his breath heavy as he stands at your side, his red suit a stark contrast against the dimly lit alleyway. With his billy clubs gripped firmly in hand, he appears every bit the vigilante defender Hell's Kitchen has come to rely on. As you peer ahead at the imposing doors of the church, doubts gnaw at your resolve. How much longer could you maintain the facade? The fear of his disappointment weighs heavily on your mind, threatening to unravel the fragile balance between truth and secrecy.

You push aside the gnawing fear, burying it deep within as you trail behind the Devil's imposing figure into the solemn sanctuary of the church. With a swift strike, he shatters the light, the echo of glass breaking resonating through the sacred space. Gunshots ring out, a chaotic symphony of danger, as the robber unleashes a barrage of bullets, blindly firing into the darkness. But in the middle of all the turmoil, the flickering lights created an ethereal glow that highlighted the two of you standing guard at the door, your silhouettes a sharp contrast to the darkness.

Two shots pierce the air, but you and Matt evade them effortlessly, a dance of survival in the dimly lit church. With practiced precision, he swiftly disarms the robber, while you, with a gentle touch, render him unconscious, the power coursing through your fingertips quelling the threat. As the assailant falls, you offer a comforting squeeze to the girl's shoulder, a silent reassurance amidst the chaos. With a shared nod, you and Matt ascend to the rooftop, vanishing into the cover of night as the wails of police sirens herald their arrival.

PARK AVE & E 118TH ST, NEW YORK — DAY

"You ever wake up in the morning…" Foggy begins with a heavy sigh, his tone laden with fatigue. "From the second you get out of bed, it's like… every molecule in your body hurts?"

"No, never," Matt responds with a playful smirk, his hand resting on the crook of your arm as you guide him through the bustling streets, Foggy walking alongside.

"I'm in agony, dude," Foggy groans, eliciting chuckles from you and Matt alike.

Matt's smile widens. "What, did you go back to the gym?"

"Hell, no. Do I look capable of making healthy life choices?" Foggy retorts, prompting a raised eyebrow from Matt.

"Why am I even here?" you interject teasingly as you look between your two friends.

"Because you missed us.” Matt grins and then continues, “And you wanted to grab some supplies for the church by the store near the office, and you said you wanted to help in the office today after you heard about what had happened to Mrs. Almeida," Matt explains patiently.

"Oh, right, okay, gimme a sec, I’ll be right back," you reply, darting into the store to retrieve your items.

As you engage in conversation with the kind lady at the register, the voices of Matt and Foggy continue in the background, their discussion gradually fading into a distant murmur. Through the glass doors of the store, you catch glimpses of them still deep in conversation, their expressions earnest as they deliberate over matters that could range from Matt's nighttime activities to the recent client who sought refuge at Nelson & Murdock.

The name Zuly Almeida comes to mind, bringing back memories of the recent troubles that had shaken your workplace. Her desperate plea for help had come in the dead of night, her life dangling by a thread as she recounted the horrors of her situation. You had helped her find safety with Matt's help, recommending the shelter for battered women where you volunteered, only to learn of the news that he woke up in a hospital with two broken arms and a restraining order safety pinned to his chest.

Exiting the store with your paper bag in hand, you catch Foggy's smile directed at you, a warmth in his eyes mirrored by Matt's grin. You inquire, "What's going on?"

"Foggy's got me swearing on my life," Matt replies, his hand finding its familiar place on your arm.

"Don't mock me," Foggy retorts, his tone laced with playful seriousness, while Matt's chuckle punctuates the air as he forms a cross over his heart. "I swear."

"Alright, you guys need to get to work before Karen loses her mind," you agree, adjusting to the heaviness of the bag in your hand.

"Yeah, this heat's killing me," Foggy continues, sounding a little uncomfortable with the weather.

NELSON & MURDOCK ATTORNEY’S AT LAW OFFICE – MORNING

“Good morning, guys. You take the scenic route this morning?” Karen says while popping a hip out and you take note of the crowded waiting room in the office.

“Morning to you, too.”

“Morning, Karen.”

“I tried to make them walk faster.” You loudly whisper to Karen as you hand her a coffee and some croissants.

"Thank you, I appreciate you helping," Karen says, her smile warm and grateful. You return the smile, then turn to Matt and Foggy, a touch of humor in your voice.

"Alright, you're all fed and caffeinated," you say briskly. "I’ll take my leave now. I need to head over to the shelter and then stop by the DA’s office to sign and drop off some papers. I’ll catch you guys later."

You’re just about to turn when Karen calls out, "Wait!"

You pause, eyebrows raised as you meet her gaze. "Yeah?"

"Will you swing by Josie’s with us later? Grab a couple of drinks, maybe play some pool?" Karen asks, her expression hopeful. You glance at Foggy and Matt, who are both watching you expectantly, waiting for your reply.

You hesitate for a moment, juggling your commitments in your mind. "Uh… yeah, sure," you finally say with a smile. "I’ll see if I can swing by if nothing comes up."

Karen’s face lights up, and she lets out a little cheer. "Okay! Yes! Great, thank you!"

You wave them off with a quick goodbye, heading for the door. As you step outside, the cheerful chorus of farewells from your friends follows you, their voices muffled as the door swings shut behind you.

You linger in the hallway just outside the door, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead filling the silence. Taking a deep breath, you let it settle into your lungs, grounding you. You try to collect your scattered thoughts, brushing off the creeping exhaustion that’s taken root in your bones.

After a moment, you turn, making your way down the narrow, dimly lit staircase. The wooden steps creak under your weight, each sound echoing off the walls, like a heartbeat reverberating in the quiet of the old building.

As you reach the bottom, your gaze catches on the worn, slightly faded sign mounted on the wall: Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys at Law. You feel a familiar pang, an ache in your chest that comes from memories and ties that run deeper than you sometimes care to admit.

You let out a slow, deliberate breath, steeling yourself as you reach out, brushing your fingers across the lettering. It’s a quiet promise to yourself—a way to remind yourself why you’re here, why you keep coming back despite the burden of secrets, the ever-growing distance between you and the people you care about.

Cut the costs, limit the feeling, you tell yourself. It’s become a mantra of sorts, a shield you wear to keep from getting hurt, to keep from hurting anyone else. And yet, standing here, it feels thinner than ever, as if one wrong move could tear it apart completely.

But you push that thought down, lock it away. There’s no room for weakness. Not here. Not now.

With one last glance at the sign, you straighten up and step out onto the bustling street, letting the noise of the city swallow you whole.

JOSIE’S BAR – EVENING

The bar’s packed, dim lights casting a hazy glow over the bustling crowd. Shots are passed around, laughter mingling with the sounds of clinking glasses. You’re standing by the pool table with Matt, Karen, and Foggy, the familiar warmth of camaraderie thick in the air.

Karen lines up her shot, her focus intense as she takes aim, the pool cue sliding through her fingers with practiced ease. The ball sinks into the pocket, and Matt chuckles, holding his beer close.

“See, I don’t know, that definitely sounded like cheating to me, Miss Page,” he says, his voice laced with a playful skepticism.

Foggy scoffs, gripping his own cue stick, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Matt, are you sure we’re not being hustled here?” he stage-whispers, glancing at Karen with faux suspicion.

“As sure as Josie’s AC is busted,” Foggy adds, shrugging.

Right on cue, Josie appears with two pitchers of ice water, a smirk on her face as she overhears them. “What AC?” she snorts, setting the pitchers down with a thud.

Karen moves to grab one, but the three of you shout in unison, “Oh!”

Matt and Foggy quickly interject, words tumbling out in a rush.

“No, you don’t wanna do that,” Foggy warns, his tone almost grave.

“You can’t drink the water here,” Matt adds, an amused smile playing at his lips.

“Josie’s pipes… they’ve got issues,” Foggy continues, and Matt chimes in with a knowing nod. “Rust, mold.”

Foggy leans closer to peer into the pitcher, feigning horror. “I think I can actually see the bacteria floating in there.”

Karen pulls her hand back with a shudder, wrinkling her nose. “Oh, ew. Ew.”

Matt chuckles, taking a swig of his drink. “That’s why we keep our cocktails neat.”

You sip on your ginger ale, hiding a grin as Foggy laughs, “Just pretend you’re abroad, someplace exotic. No mojitos, though—Josie just throws mint in the beer.”

Matt’s laughter echoes softly, and then Foggy nudges you with his cue stick, raising his brows in mock anticipation. “Come on, your turn.”

You raise a skeptical eyebrow, holding up your hands. “I don’t know how to play.”

“Right,” Foggy sighs, smirking as he hands his cue to Matt. “Take over, buddy. I gotta hit the head. And don’t let her out of your four working senses. She’s as quick as she is beautiful.” He pauses, casting you a cheeky grin. “Reminds me of myself.”

Foggy ambles off to the bathroom, and as you stand between Matt and Karen, you notice the way she leans in close to him, her laughter soft and genuine. There’s a lightness in her expression, an ease that somehow feels like it belongs.

Something twists in your chest. You clear your throat, mumbling, “I’m gonna go grab another ginger ale… be right back.”

You weave through the crowd, slipping up to the bar, where Josie hands you a fresh ginger ale without a word, just a quick, knowing nod. Leaning on the bar, you steal a glance back toward the pool table, watching as Karen leans over, adjusting Matt’s grip on the cue stick. She’s laughing, he’s smiling, and there’s an undeniable spark that hangs between them.

“Aren’t they something to admire?” Josie murmurs over your shoulder, her voice low, and it takes all your willpower not to let the sting show.

You force a tight smile, nodding. “Yeah. They are.”

As you shift your weight, you accidentally bump into someone standing nearby—a man with shaggy blonde hair, a heavy coat clinging to his shoulders despite the stifling warmth in the bar. He looks like he’s been sweating bullets, and his gaze darts around, uneasy.

“Sorry,” you murmur, offering a quick nod.

He merely grunts in acknowledgment, his eyes flicking past you, but something about him feels… off. Years of working in shelters have taught you how to read people, and he wears the tension of someone with something to hide.

“Hey, you new around here?” you ask, giving him a careful once-over.

He swallows a sip of his drink before replying, voice low and gruff. “No, actually.”

Before you can press further, you feel a gentle yet firm grip on your elbow. Turning, you see Matt beside you, his face calm but his expression etched with a subtle concern that only you can read.

“You okay?” he asks, his hand lingering as if ready to pull you away.

You give him a reassuring nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…” You glance back at the stranger, then decide to offer a word of caution. “Hey, it’s all right. Just letting you know, this place has good people. Lots of places a guy like you could drink. Just saying.”

The man shakes his head, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s not what you think. I got business here. With Nelson and Murdock.”

Matt’s grip on your arm tightens, his posture shifting ever so slightly, like he’s readying himself for a confrontation. He subtly angles himself between you and the man, his body language protective, a silent barrier.

The man’s gaze slides to Matt, his eyes narrowing as he takes him in. “You must be the blind one,” he mutters, a hint of a sneer in his voice.

Matt’s expression doesn’t falter, his jaw set as he holds his ground, his presence an unspoken warning. You can feel the tension simmering between them, thick and charged, as the crowded bar fades into the background.

JOSIE'S BAR – NIGHT

The bar hums with low chatter and the clinking of glasses, but the quiet tension at your table cuts through it all. You, Matt, Foggy, Karen, and the stranger—sit in a tight circle, leaning in to hear his story, his voice rough and hurried, carrying the weight of something horrific.

“Fifteen men,” he says, looking each of you in the eye, his gaze darting from face to face. “Tough Irish. Armed. All of them blown away. It was a massacre. We weren't hit by any rival family there. I'm telling you, we were… hit by an army.”

Foggy raises an eyebrow, leaning back slightly as he holds his beer. “That’s quite the story,” he says, tone skeptical but edged with curiosity.

“It’s a fact.” His voice drops to a near growl, his hand clenching the edge of the table. “And believe me, you can go see for yourself. Burren Club, 47th and 10th. Can’t miss it. It’s the… part of New York that looks like a goddamn war zone.”

Karen leans forward, her eyes narrowing as she studies him. “What’s your involvement in their organization?” she asks, her voice steady, probing.

The stranger’s gaze shifts, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “Who are they?” he asks, eyeing both you and Karen with suspicion.

Foggy doesn’t miss a beat, his tone hardening. “Answer the question.”

The man sighs, seeming to deflate just a bit. “Brannigan. I’ve run with them for a long time. I don’t deny it. Pick-ups, drop-offs… sometimes doing things I shouldn’t be.” He rubs a hand over his face, guilt flickering in his eyes. “No question, I’m… I’m no choir boy. I’m tellin’ ya, I just skirt the surface. Unlike the men I work for, and the guys that did this. I’m telling ya, I had nothing to do with that massacre.”

You glance over at Matt, watching as he tilts his head, focusing in that subtle way he does when he’s listening more intently than anyone else at the table. After a moment, he gives a slight nod to Foggy, the confirmation unspoken but clear— he isn’t lying.

Matt leans in, his voice calm but firm. “Assuming you’re correct, and the Irish were hit by a powerful crime syndicate tonight… if you’re the only one who survived, your good fortune’s gonna rub some dangerous people the wrong way.”

He snorts, his expression a mix of fear and frustration. “No shit! I got a pack of killers gunning for my men. My people think I’m a traitor or a rat.”

Foggy nods slowly, tapping his fingers on the table. “So, what can Nelson and Murdock do for you, Mister…”

“Grotto,” he says, cutting in quickly. “Just Grotto.”

Matt’s brow arches, unimpressed. “Grotto what?”

“Just Grotto.” He sighs, his voice dropping, almost pleading. “Witness protection. You guys need to get me the hell out of here before I end up in the only place hotter than this… permanent.”

Matt shakes his head slightly. “We’re a private law firm,” he points out, though there’s a trace of sympathy in his tone.

“Yeah, but a trustworthy one. You got quite a reputation after you took out Wilson Fisk.” Grotto’s gaze shifts, desperation settling into his features.

Foggy sighs, shaking his head. “The DA’s office is the only place that can make a deal.”

Grotto’s jaw tightens. “Yeah, well, I’m not walking to the DA without representation. I know a lot. I’ve seen a lot. I’ll give the cops anything to get me out of Hell’s Kitchen.”

Matt’s expression hardens. “We have a reputation for representing the good people of Hell’s Kitchen, not for negotiating on behalf of career criminals.”

Grotto’s shoulders slump, and he casts a weary glance at each of you, his voice breaking just a little. “What if a criminal wants to… change his career? A second chance, that’s all I want. I know I’m only coming here with my word. I got nobody to vouch for me, but I can… barely cover your fee. But word is… that Nelson and Murdock put their faith in people. And I need a little of that right now.” His gaze turns pleading, desperate. “Please.”

There’s a moment of silence. Matt sighs, the tension in his expression softening slightly, and he shares a look with Foggy. Finally, Foggy nods, his voice firm but reluctant. “Lie low. We’ll look into it.”

Matt leans forward, his tone cautious. “You have somewhere you can stay?”

But before Grotto can respond, his face goes ghostly white. His hand trembles as it knocks against his glass, which slips from his grasp and shatters on the floor. In the same instant, his body slumps, collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud.

Instinct takes over, and you’re the first to move, rushing to his side. You kneel down, your fingers pressing against his neck as you check for a pulse. He’s clammy, unresponsive. Your hand brushes aside his coat, revealing a dark, wet stain spreading across his shirt—a wound, still bleeding.

“Guys, he’s bleeding,” you say, urgency sharp in your voice as you look up at the others. “Someone call 911.”

The world around you fades to the background as you work, your focus narrowing in on Grotto, who’s barely holding on. The bar’s noise, the patrons, everything else becomes a distant hum, your mind honing in on one thing—keeping him alive long enough to get help.

Matt, Karen, and Foggy exchange tense looks before Foggy fumbles for his phone, dialing with shaky fingers. Time feels like it’s slipping through your hands, each second marked by the faint, unsteady rhythm of Grotto’s heartbeat under your fingertips.

BURREN CLUB — NIGHT

The humid evening air clings to your skin as you, Matt, and Foggy make your way through the crowd gathered outside the Burren Club. The blue and red lights from NYPD cruisers flash, casting long shadows across the grim faces of onlookers. People crane their necks, desperate for answers, while the officers keep them at bay. You catch sight of Brett Mahoney by the police tape, managing the restless crowd. His expression is hard, tired, as he fields questions from civilians.

“The paramedics said he’s stable,” you say, wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans. Your voice is steady, but the adrenaline from earlier hasn’t fully faded. “They’re taking him to Metro-General Hospital. I told Karen to text me when he woke up.”

Just ahead, you hear a man’s frantic plea. “Hey, I just need to know if my brother’s in there!”

Brett shakes his head, holding his ground. “Step back, please. I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t answer that right now.”

Foggy lifts his hand, calling out, “Hey, Brett!”

Matt’s hand grips your arm as he maneuvers his cane with his other hand, letting you guide him around the clusters of people and the scattered debris. You glance at the scene unfolding before you—a forensics team combing through evidence, cops sectioning off the area, the dull murmur of a distressed crowd. The entire place is bathed in tension, thick as the heat that presses down on the night.

Brett turns to see you all approaching, and his expression barely softens. Foggy gives him a small shrug. “I would say it’s good to see you, but under the circumstances…”

Brett’s brow lifts, unimpressed. “Would you please step aside, sir?”

“We just have a couple of questions, Brett,” Matt says, his voice calm but purposeful.

Brett sighs, rolling his eyes. “If you’re here to chase ambulances, you might notice there are none.”

Foggy forces a casual chuckle, but his eyes stay sharp. “Any leads on what happened?”

Brett doesn’t give an inch. “Oh, you wanna know what went down? Read about it in the papers like everybody else.”

“We’re not everybody else, my man.” Foggy tries to lighten the mood, his attempt landing with an awkward chuckle.

Brett cocks an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Did you just say ‘my man’?”

Foggy looks mildly wounded but presses on. “All right, we get it. You can’t talk about an active crime scene. However… what if… hypothetically speaking… we may have recently acquired a new client that could help… shed some light on this investigation?”

Brett’s gaze sharpens, scrutinizing him. “How recent?”

“Farm fresh,” Foggy replies smoothly, a hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Brett’s lips twitch into something that might be amusement. “Was he here?”

Foggy shakes his head, giving him a diplomatic look. “Client privilege.”

Brett lets out a low chuckle, though there’s no humor in his eyes. “Well, uh, Mr. Nelson, if that was true… hypothetically speaking… I’d tell you that withholding your client from the NYPD would be obstructing governmental administration, and I’d probably just arrest your ass myself. In theory.”

You can’t help but arch a brow, smirking just a little as you reply, “Guess we really can’t help each other after all.”

Matt shifts closer to Brett, his voice dropping to a low murmur, almost lost in the ambient noise. “It’s over 100 degrees out here tonight, Sergeant. Why would an Irish mobster wear body armor to a private meeting inside his own club?”

Brett’s eyes widen just a fraction, momentarily thrown off balance. You can see him recalculating, a spark of realization glinting in his eyes. He shoots a warning look over his shoulder toward the bustling crime scene, then mutters to a nearby officer, “Hey, tell those guys to keep it down in there, or someone’s getting written up.”

He turns back to you, his stance shifting, the guarded walls dropping slightly. “I help you… you help me?”

Matt gives him a small, reassuring smile. “That’s all we want.”

Brett hesitates, glancing around before lowering his voice. “There’s a total clampdown on any of this getting out to the press. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Brett… you can trust us,” Matt says, the sincerity in his tone carrying weight.

Foggy grins, attempting a charming smile. “We’re lawyers.”

Brett rolls his eyes but gestures for you all to follow him. “Come with me over here. Come on.”

He leads you past the police tape, around the perimeter of the crime scene, to a quieter corner near an NYPD vehicle. The flashing lights cast ominous shadows against the nearby walls, and as you step further into the restricted zone, the air feels heavier, thick with the secrets and violence that hang over Hell’s Kitchen.

The heat lingers in the air, thick and oppressive, pressing down on every breath you take. The faint sounds of sirens and agitated murmurs from nearby cops create a gritty symphony, underscoring the heavy tension surrounding the Burren Club. Brett's face is a hardened mask as he turns back to the three of you, lowering his voice just enough to keep this conversation from prying ears.

“DA's going batshit trying to figure it out,” he mutters, glancing around as though the very walls might betray him. “This isn’t the first hit that matches this MO. Call it massive gang-on-gang overkill. Downtown office thinks we got new players in Hell’s Kitchen, and whoever they are, we’re talking some kind of paramilitary-type organization with the training, knowledge, and hardware to take out half the city.”

You exchange a look with Matt and Foggy. The implications sink in, heavy and sharp. Whoever’s out there, they aren’t playing by the same rules as the usual scum in Hell’s Kitchen.

Matt, calm but intense, tilts his head in Brett’s direction. “What do they want?”

Brett exhales, the lines on his face deepening. “That’s what’s driving the DA nuts. We don’t know who they are. We just know who they’re not.”

Foggy gives a dry, humorless chuckle. “I’d say they’re definitely not fond of the Irish.”

Brett’s jaw tightens, his eyes steeling over as he nods. “You think?” His voice lowers, tone shifting to something darker, more personal. “Now, we got history, so I’ll tell you as a friend: stay out of this shit. If you got a witness, the smart move is to turn him over and walk away. Hell’s Kitchen is about to explode.”

With that, Brett gives one last look, something almost like a warning in his eyes, before he turns and walks back toward the swarm of uniforms, resuming his duties among the controlled chaos.

There’s a beat of silence as you, Matt, and Foggy stand there, absorbing Brett’s words.

Foggy breaks the silence with a faint grin. “Did you hear that? He called me friend.”

You roll your eyes playfully, giving him a nudge. “Try not to let it go to your head, Nelson.”

As the three of you start to walk away from the crime scene, the reality of what Brett said hangs in the air, dense and heavy. You lower your voice, casting a cautious glance around. “I told you guys this morning that I was gonna swing by the DA’s office. When I was there, it was… busy as hell. People working overtime on some case. Couldn’t get all the details, but one of the biker gangs—Dogs of Hell—they were hit too.”

Matt’s brow furrows, his expression contemplative as he processes the information. Foggy’s face reflects a mixture of confusion and worry, the wheels turning as he tries to piece it all together.

Before you can say more, a buzz from your pocket snaps you back to the present. You pull out your phone, glancing at the lock screen to see a text from Karen. It’s brief, but urgent.

You bite your lip, the weight of it all sinking in as a sudden tension tightens your chest. “I gotta go,” you mutter, slipping your phone back into your pocket and taking a few steps back. “Grotto just woke up.”

Foggy’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, worry flickering across his face as he realizes what that could mean. “Hey! You be careful, alright?” His voice is firm, an edge of protectiveness lacing his words as he watches you turn to go.

Beside him, Matt’s grip on his cane tightens. His fingers curl around it, knuckles turning white, as though holding himself back. He stands silent, but the way he angles his head, listening, tells you everything. You can practically feel his attention zeroing in on the situation, calculating, strategizing. You know him well enough to understand that he’ll be up all night, digging for answers in his own way, likely stalking rooftops and alleyways before dawn even thinks of breaking.

You meet Matt’s gaze behind his lenses for just a heartbeat, exchanging a look of silent understanding. A small, knowing smile touches your lips as you nod. “You too.”

And with that, you turn and disappear into the night, leaving Foggy and Matt behind in the wash of streetlight and shadow. As you walk away, you can feel their eyes on your back, both of them watching, each in their own way, knowing that you’re all stepping into something none of you fully understand yet—but can’t walk away from.

METRO-GENERAL HOSPITAL — EVENING

The fluorescent lights hum softly in the quiet hallway as you approach Grotto’s room. You knock lightly, almost hesitant, and after a moment, the door cracks open to reveal Karen’s face. She offers a quick, tense smile and steps aside, letting you slip into the dimly lit room. She shuts the door behind you, sealing the three of you in this small, sterile pocket of safety—for now.

You exhale slowly, steadying yourself as your eyes settle on Grotto. He’s lying in the hospital bed, looking more irritated than wounded, though the medical equipment surrounding him says otherwise. Wires and tubes attach him to various monitors, which beep softly, a reminder of his fragility despite the rough edge in his glare.

Karen steps closer, her voice barely above a whisper as she updates you. “Bottle sliced through his flesh. Multiple lacerations into the muscle, but no vessel damage.” She glances at Grotto with a mixture of relief and amazement. “Nothing that a few weeks of physical therapy can’t cure. It’s… exactly as you said.”

You pull the chart from the foot of the bed, scanning over the notes with a practiced eye. Grotto’s file confirms what Karen just told you. Bruised but alive, and somehow, still intact despite the hell he walked through. You smirk, setting the chart back as you mutter, “Well, I’ll be damned, ‘Steve.’ Got real fuckin’ lucky.”

Grotto glares at you, irritation flashing in his eyes. He shifts in bed, wincing slightly as he adjusts against the pillows, his voice a low, rough grumble. “It’s not safe for either of you to be here.”

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow, meeting his defiant stare with a calm resolve. “We’ll manage.”

A flicker of something—fear, maybe regret—crosses his face, but he quickly masks it, casting his gaze out toward the window where the night stretches dark and endless beyond the glass. Karen looks between the two of you, worry etched into her features, but she stays silent.

The room’s tense silence is shattered by a shrill scream echoing from the hallway. You and Karen freeze, your heads snapping toward the door, the distant sound of chaos prickling down your spine.

“Oh, God,” Grotto mutters, his voice low and laced with terror. He clenches his fists, his face pale. “What was that?”

Karen glances at him, alarm widening her eyes. “What’s going on?”

Grotto’s gaze darts between you both, panic setting in. “No, no, no, no, no,” he hisses. “Someone's come to finish the job. Shit.”

Karen takes a step toward the door, but you hold up a hand, stopping her. “Shh! Don’t move,” you whisper sharply, placing a hand against her shoulder to keep her back.

But Grotto is already unhooking himself from his IV line, the heart monitor beeping wildly as he yanks the wires away. “No, to hell with that,” he mutters, adrenaline overtaking fear.

You edge closer to the door, cracking it open just enough to get a glimpse of the hallway. Your heart races as you spot a figure moving through the chaos—a man, bulky, gripping a shotgun. His face is shadowed, but his intentions are clear as terrified hospital staff scatter, screaming, desperate to escape his path.

You whirl back around, your voice urgent. “We gotta go. Now.”

Karen grabs Grotto by the arm, and together, you three bolt out of the room, slipping into the flow of fleeing doctors and patients. Karen leads the way, practically dragging Grotto, who’s stumbling along, while you bring up the rear. The shotgun’s blast rings out again, deafening, tearing through the air as people scatter in panic, and Karen lets out a startled yelp, shoving her way toward the stairwell with the assailant close behind.

The three of you burst through the stairwell door, taking the steps two at a time, adrenaline propelling you forward as the sounds of gunfire and shouting echo above. Reaching the ground floor, you push your way outside, lungs burning. Karen fumbles with her keys as you spot a parked car nearby.

“What? You… You don’t have the right keys?” Grotto yells, a note of hysteria creeping into his voice.

“Shut up! Shut up!” Karen snaps, frustration flashing across her face. Grotto’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“Is this even your car?”

Karen shoots him a withering look, unlocking the door with a quick flick. “Belonged to a friend.”

“Where’s he?” Grotto demands.

Karen doesn’t miss a beat. “He’s dead.” She yanks the door open, gesturing to the passenger seat. “Get in!”

But you’re already moving, shoving Grotto into the passenger seat and slamming the door shut. Without a second thought, you bolt to the driver’s side, your voice low and firm as you lean in through the open window. “I’ll meet you at the precinct. Go!”

Karen calls out your name, worry flashing in her eyes, but you’re already sprinting toward the nearest alley. She curses under her breath, hitting the gas and disappearing into the night. The distant roar of her engine fades as you duck into the shadows, feeling the energy course through your veins. You close your eyes, letting the familiar glow shimmer over your skin as you pull your mask and suit into place.

With a deep breath, you focus, teleporting yourself up to the rooftop of the hospital. The world blurs for a moment, and then you’re there, the wind whipping against your face as you land. Your hunch was right—the assailant is crouched on the roof, sniper rifle aimed at the street below, ready to take the shot.

“Hey!” you call out, your voice slicing through the night air like a blade.

The man’s head snaps toward you, eyes narrowing as he quickly raises his weapon, aiming straight at you. But before he can pull the trigger, a dark figure swoops in from the shadows. Daredevil, silent and precise, lands a brutal kick to the shooter’s head, knocking him back. The assailant stumbles, but he’s far from finished.

You dart forward, instincts flaring, but keeping your power in check. Every move feels calculated, the electricity pulsing at your fingertips, begging to be unleashed. The shooter swings at Daredevil, and Matt ducks, his movements fluid, barely missing a beat. You try to find an opening, heart pounding, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

The assailant shifts, pulling a pistol from his side, aiming point-blank at Daredevil. There’s a flash, the sound of the gunshot cutting through the night. "Bang."

Time slows as you watch in horror. Matt’s head snaps back, his body teetering dangerously at the edge of the rooftop. You scream out but he’s already falling, the darkened streets below yawning open to swallow him whole.

Without thinking, you dive after him, launching yourself over the edge, arms outstretched as you chase the falling figure through the night air. The wind whips past, cold and unforgiving, as you reach out, fingers brushing against his chestplate just as the ground rushes up to meet you both.

TAGLIST: @scoliobean @thychuvaluswife @pantrashtic @ofmusesandsecrets @c-losur3 @coco-karfunkel @lunaticgurly @loves0phelia @theclassicvinyldragon @iusedtofloat @megara0224

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lilacliquors · 10 months ago

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SPICY

[PINNED]: sender pins receiver against a wall - edgin x reader

[COLLAR]: sender grabs receiver by the collar to pull them closer - phillip graves x reader

[LAP]: sender pulls receiver onto their lap - alejandro vargas x reader

[OFFICE]: sender and receiver are making out in receiver's office - matt murdock x reader

[PULL]: sender pulls on receiver's hair to expose their neck - johnny cage mk11 x reader

[MUFFLE]: sender puts their hand over receiver's mouth to keep them quiet - billy butcher x reader

[TABLE]: sender touches receiver's thigh under the table at a restaurant or a dinner party - soldier boy x reader

SWEET

[ OVERHEARD ]: sender reveals that they’re in love with the receiver to a third party, not realizing that the receiver, while out of sight, has just overheard the confession. - bi - han x reader

[ TRACE ]: sender, believing the receiver to be asleep, gently traces the message “i love you” on the receiver’s bare skin with their finger. - syzoth x reader

[ DANCING ]: as they slow-dance together, the sender takes the opportunity to lean in close to the receiver and tell them that they love them. - miguel o'hara x reader

[ WEDDING ]: as they prepare to exchange wedding vows, sender gazes at the receiver and says “i love you” for the last time as an unmarried couple. - kuai liang x reader

[ RELIEF ]: upon reuniting with the receiver, whom the sender briefly believed to be dead, the sender emotionally embraces them, and says “i love you” in the spur of the moment. - johnny cage mk1 x reader

[ QUIET ]: on a cozy night in with the receiver, as they curl up together on the sofa/in bed, the sender says “i love you” to them. - smoke x reader

[ FIRST ]: sender tells the receiver “i love you” for the first time. - poe dameron x reader

#johnny cage x reader #phillip graves smut #bi han x reader #kuai liang x reader #poe dameron x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #syzoth x reader #smoke x reader #billy butcher x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #matt murdock x reader #soldier boy x reader #sweet and spicy special masterlist #lilacliquors

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zomtart · 1 month ago

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zomtart’s Fic Masterlist🎀

hiiii! I made a masterlist :) if you want to be put on a taglist just comment on any fic or this post!requests are 100% open give me all your thoughts

Frank Castle x Reader/OC

One Shots

Day Off

The Anatomy of a Stranger

An Unreliable GPS

A Second Pillow

Morphine and Lavender

Karen Page x Reader/OC

One Shots

At Least Out Loud

Matt Murdock x Reader/OC

One Shots

Unknown

#frank castle x reader #matt murdock x reader #karen page x reader #frank castle #matt murdock #matthew murdock #matthew murdock x reader #frank castle x oc #frank castle x female reader #karen page x female reader #the punisher #daredevil #matt murdock x fem!reader #masterlist

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 10 months ago

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Sweet on You, Chapter 3

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Story Summary: HERE

Warnings/Tags: Sugar Daddy!Matt Murdock, Idiots to Lovers, No Age Gap, Alternating PoV, No Use of Y/N

Word Count: ~1850

A/N: I had entirely too much fun writing the terms of Matt and Reader's contract, lol.

As always, if you'd like to be tagged in this or any of my other stories, please let me know!

Divider by @theradioactivespidergwen

Tag List (struck-through blogs could not be tagged): @danzer8705 @capylore @shouldbestudying41 @atemydadforbreakfast @peachy-flxwr @sleepysleepymom @fishinsuits @milkbummm @lazyxsquirrel @beezusvreeland @caughtthefever @bohemianrhapsody86

Thank God it's almost time to go, you thought to yourself as you began to get ready to leave work on Monday afternoon. Wish they'd hurry up and replace Roxy and Tabitha soon.

You had been one of three admin assistants until two months ago when Roxy, the junior admin who had told you about Sugar and Spice, had moved across the country for a job that would actually utilize her college degree, and Tabitha, a glorified intern with no administrative skills who you suspected had only been hired because one or more of the partners had thought she was hot, had gotten fired for showing up to work still wasted after a night of partying. Now you were on your own and doing the work of three people with no relief in sight.

From the moment you arrived at the office at 8 AM that morning until right then when it was time to leave you had been going non-stop. You had fielded phone calls, made appointments, arranged travel, greeted clients, fetched water and coffee, filed for permits, picked up lunch for all three partners from three different restaurants, ordered flowers for your actual boss's girlfriend's birthday, made copies, and printed and mailed invoices -- all with a smile on your face and without a word of thanks from anyone.

Needless to say, you were looking forward to a drink and a nice, pleasant dinner that you didn't have to prepare yourself and could actually sit down and eat rather than have to quickly inhale like you had had to do with the sandwich you had procured from the deli down the street for lunch.

At 5 PM on the dot you shut down your computer and unlocked your desk drawer to grab your purse.

You went to the bathroom to freshen up before poking your head into your boss's office. “Hi, Mr. DiStefano, I just wanted to let you know that I'm leaving for the day.”

“Okay,” Mr. DiStefano replied without looking up from the floor plans he was studying.

You waited for a moment to see if he was going to say ‘thank you, have a great evening ’ -- or anything else for that matter -- but he didn't. “Okay then, see you tomorrow.”

You stopped by the other two partners’ offices to let them know that you were leaving, receiving very much the same non-response from both.

You sighed as you left your office and headed towards Nelson, Murdock, and Page. You were feeling extremely unappreciated and underpaid, especially since you were now having to fill the admin assistant role for all 3 partners at once. Maybe it's time to start looking for another job…

You shook your head. You weren't going to even think about trying to find another job until after you got your mother's medical debt paid off. One thing at a time.

“--Yo, Matty, we hitting up Josie's tonight?”

Matt looked up and shook his head as Foggy stopped by his office. “Actually, I can't. I have plans after work.”

Foggy gasped. “Do you have a date ?”

He poked his head out of Matt's office. “ HEY KAREN, MATT HAS A DATE TONIGHT! ” he yelled down the hall.

Matt sighed. Here we go. He was glad that you and he had already come up with a cover story on how you had met so he wouldn't have to think of one on the spot.

“So, what's her name and how'd you meet her?” Foggy asked.

Matt said your name. “We met at The Brew Towers on Saturday.”

“Ooh, coffee shop meet-cute,” Karen gently teased as she joined him and Foggy in his office. “How romantic.”

“Yeah, tell us more,” Foggy added. “Did you spill your coffee on her? Accidentally grab each other's order? Brush hands across the condiment station?”

Matt chuckled. “Actually, we struck up a conversation while we both were waiting in line to order and since it was busy and tables were scarce we decided to sit together. We hit it off, so I asked her to have dinner with me tonight.”

“So where are you taking her?”

“Okinawa.”

Foggy huffed out a laugh. “Ooh, fancy.”

Matt shrugged. “It was close to the office.”

“What time are you meeting her there?” Karen asked.

Matt shook his head. “Actually, she's meeting me here in about 10 minutes and we're going to walk over together.”

“Well, I'm really happy for you and I hope everything works out with her.”

“Yeah, same,” Foggy added. “It's good to see you putting yourself out there again, buddy.”

Matt inwardly cringed. After everything he, Foggy, and Karen had been through he hated lying to them, especially when they seemed so genuinely happy for him. “Thanks.”

“Guess it's just us at Josie's then, Kare. Let's go before she gets here -- I’m sure Matt doesn't want to scare her away by introducing her to us too soon.” Foggy rapped his knuckles on Matt's desk. “I expect a full report on your date tomorrow morning, Matthew.”

Matt chuckled with a nod. “Will do. ‘Night, guys.”

He waited until Foggy and Karen had left before pulling up his and your contract and printing copies in both standard and Braille print.

A few minutes later he heard your footsteps approaching the office, so he walked out into the lobby to greet you.

“Hi, Matt,” you said as you entered.

“Hi,” Matt replied. “How are you?”

“I'm good, and you?”

“I'm good too, thanks.” Matt gestured towards his office. “Let's go to my office.”

He led you down the hall to his private office. “Have a seat. Would you like something to drink? We have water, soda, tea, juice…”

“No, I'm okay,” you said as you sat. “Thank you though.”

Matt sat across from you. “Alright…”

He picked up the print copy of your contract and handed it to you. “Here’s the contract. I'll read through it, just let me know if you have any questions.”

“Okay.”

Matt cleared his throat and began to read. “Memorandum of Agreement. This memorandum of Agreement is made by and between Matthew M. Murdock and…”

He could hear your quiet, steady breathing as you followed along. He had tried to make the contract as simple and straightforward as possible in order to protect both himself and you.

“...Shall provide the following obligations,” he continued. “Accompany Matthew to lunch and/or dinner at minimum twice weekly. Accompany Matthew to business-related events as requested with minimum 72 hours prior notice. Accompany Matthew to non-business events as requested, dependent on availability.”

“Wait, what does that last part mean?” you asked.

“Just that every once in a while I might ask you to do something with me that doesn't involve a sit-down meal,” Matt replied. “But also that I'm not going to make you drop everything just to have a cup of coffee or take a walk with me.”

“Oh, okay, that's fair.” You paused. “Sorry, go ahead.”

Matt nodded. “In exchange, Matthew shall provide the following obligations: Monthly stipend of $1,500 --”

“Wait, wait,” you interrupted again. “We only agreed on a thousand a month.”

Matt shrugged. “Yeah, but I thought about it and decided that fifteen hundred was a more fair amount for your time.” Especially since you're using it to help your mother.

You sucked in a soft breath. “Oh.”

Matt could tell you were torn between arguing with him and just accepting the higher amount and waited until you decided which path to take.

Finally, you sighed. “Okay.”

“Okay. ‘Payment for all outings and events, including but not limited to meals, beverages, gratuities, tickets, souvenirs, and gifts. In the event of a professional obligation, arrangement and payment for appropriate garments for said obligation. Accompaniment to requested events with minimum 72 hours prior notice, dependent on availability.” Matt paused. “I figure it's only fair in case you have a work event or something else you'd need a plus-one for.”

You huffed out a mirthless laugh. “Even though I have to plan and set them up I never get invited to actually attend any of DiStefano, Williams, and Abbott’s events, but that's good in case I ever do.”

Matt's brow furrowed at your slightly bitter tone. He'd have to find out more about your job. “Anyway, ‘Confidentiality: Each party shall treat as strictly confidential the nature of said Agreement as a result of entering into or performing duties outlined in this Agreement’. ”

“Snitches get stitches,” you quipped. “Or in this case, sued.”

Matt chuckled. “Relation of the Parties: The relationship between both parties is that of a platonic nature and of partners in a business transaction. No other nature of relationship is obligatory herewith.”

He continued on with the rest of the contract -- termination of the agreement (that either he or you could terminate the contract for any reason at any time with 30 days prior notice), remedies on default (that if one or both of you failed to perform your duties or otherwise broke a clause in the contract, the contract as a whole would be rendered null and void) and finally, amendments (that the contract could be amended at any time with the express written agreement of both you and Matt.)

“Governance: This contract shall be governed by and construed in accordance with the laws of the State of New York,” Matt concluded. “Signed by both parties stated here within and effective as of date first written above.”

He tilted his head back up towards you. “Everything sound fair to you?”

You were silent for a moment. “Yeah. Yeah, I think it's fair.”

“Okay then.” Matt handed you a pen and the second printed copy of the contract. “Just so we both have signed print copies.”

“Okay, yeah, no problem.” You signed your name on both copies of the contract. “Am I signing the Braille one too then?”

Matt nodded and handed you the Braille copy, quickly feeling the text below where your signature would go. “Sign right above here.”

“Okay.” You quickly signed your name. “All done.”

Matt signed his name on all three copies of the contract and set both his Braille and print copies into his desk drawer before locking it, then he folded your copy and put it into an envelope. “Here you go. Now that business is settled, how about we celebrate our new arrangement with some dinner?”

He heard you tuck your copy of the contract into your purse. “That sounds wonderful,” you replied.

Matt stood. “Shall we, then?”

He retrieved his coat from the coat rack and took his cane out of the inside pocket, then you both headed back towards the lobby.

Matt turned the lights off and opened the door for you. “After you.”

You stepped outside. “Thank you.”

Matt followed you outside then locked the door behind the two of you. “This way.”

You headed down the sidewalk to what Matt hoped was the first of many get-togethers, a comfortable silence between you.

#lotmf writes #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x you #Sweet on You Masterlist

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bluehourbucky · 2 years ago

Text

Moving on

pairing: matt murdock x f!reader; exBucky x reader

summary: what happens after the break up <part 2 of Question...? > little bit of Buckys side how he's feeling ; reader moving on; happy ending?

tw: cheating, f bomb <few times but oh well>

a/n: really wanted to write part 2 for Question... so here it is!!! but this can be read as a standalone/ sorry this is my first time writting for matt I hope I did him justice!

[ masterlist ]

It's been a bit over a year since Bucky and you broke up, and Bucky has been miserable.

Ever since you two had broken up the team had been giving him a hard time, especially Natasha, she has unfortunately lost a good friend.

You didn't want to stay in contact with anyone since everyone pretty much knew that he was cheating, but didn't bother to tell you. To be fair, they did try to make Bucky confess, and he said he would, but that didn't happen.

It was for the best to leave everything behind that connected you with Bucky, including people, no matter how much it hurt you.

--------------------------------------------------

2 months after the break up

"This isn't what I signed up for." Sharon says, while putting on her clothes back on.

Bucky stands up from the bed, grabbing her hand to stop her from leaving. He stupidly said that he wanted an actual relationship and not whatever they were doing was.

"Even If I wanted a relationship I would be with someone else. You're just a good fuck nothing more, thought it was obvious." she pulls out her hand out of Buckys.

"Besides, your performance has been lacking since you've become single, liked you more when she was waiting for you and you were in my bed."

The doors close behind her, and Bucky gets a flashback of you leaving. He remembers your teary eyes, broken state, which he has caused. There's nothing more that he regrets more than hurting you.

Bucky, only when you were gone realised what he had lost. You had taught him what it feels like to be loved unconditionally. And he fucked up, majorly and he won't ever forgive himself. But oh, if he could, he would've turned back the time and prevented himself from making the biggest mistake of his life.

Now he lays in bed alone, wallowing in self pity, wishing he could hold you just for a minute even though he knows he doesn't deserve it.

------------------------------------------------

present day

"Guess who?!" you ask while covering your boyfriends eyes, leaning on his shoulders. He was waiting for you to arrive to pick him up for date night in front of his office.

"Darling, I don't know if you're aware, but im blind so you don't have to bother with covering my eyes." Matthew, let's out a laugh and removes your hands from glasses.

You knew you had no chance of surprising him, so this was more for your entertainment only. When he turns around, he hugs you and gives you a quick kiss, and your heart does a little flip that you didn't think you'd feel again.

"Thank you for not turning around even though you knew I was coming from miles away." Matt could sense you from afar because of his senses, he could've turned around any time, yet he didn't, which you appreciate.

"You really thank me for the littlest things, sweetheart." he gets a hold of your hand and gives it a squeeze.

You don't know what it is but you might be a magnet for superheroes. When you moved to a shitty apartment to get away from super heroes you didn't expect to move right next to one. But you couldn't complain Matthew has been an incredible friend and boyfriend. Soon it's going to be 7 months of you being together and you couldn't be happier. When you think about how you felt when you first met him, and how you're feeling now, it's so different. You can't help but feel lucky that he's in your life.

"What are you thinking so hard about now, it's date night and you know the rules of date night."

"Nothing. Let's go I'm starving, and I know for a fact you forgot to eat, and you said you would work on it!" you scold him for who knows what time. Matt is a workaholic and you're okay with that, he makes time for you always but what bothers you is he sometimes forgets to take care of himself.

"And how would you know that, darling." right after he says that he follows it up with "Foggy told you didn't he."

"Maybe." you teasingly say even though that's true, you occasionally check up on Matt when he's not responding to your calls.

It doesn't take long for you two to arrive to the restaurant, the route had been taken countless of times. As the door opens, you smell all the delicious food you're about to devour. Your stomach grumbles at the smell, and Matt chuckles, running a circle on your hand with his thumb.

"Wanna take it home? I know it's a lot." you whisper, knowing that a lot of noise and smells can make him feel overwhelmed, that's why you usually eat at home.

"If you want we can stay. I really don't mind it's just couple of hours." Matt the sweetheart he is, always puts you first.

"Nah, it's fine I'd rather we eat at home."

As you were waiting for you food to be prepared you talked about how your day was, asked about his, you weren't big on pda but you sneaked in a few kisses because how could you resist this beautiful man.

Once the food is ready, you take it and as you leave the restaurant you crash into someone.

And when you look up you just freeze.

Even if Matt didn't have super senses, or hear your heart beat he would know something was wrong. He didn't sense any danger but whatever or whoever was in front of you was making you upset.

"Uh hi." Bucky awkwardly says, It's been over a year since he last saw you and he was having trouble processing what he was seeing.

As soon as you noticed that he was looking at your interlocked hands, you quickly dropped Matts hand. You don't even know why, you weren't doing anything wrong.

"Hi, how are you?" you awkwardly said, picking up Matthews hand once again for comfort, he instantly sqeezed it letting you know that he was there.

"Fine. You? Team misses you." Bucky cringed at his words.

"All is well. Thanks for asking. The team has chosen the side when they decided that I didn't deserve the truth." you flinched, remembering how no one bothered to tell you what Bucky was doing, even though they knew. It's not like you blamed them for his cheating, but you didn't need friends who let you get cheated on for months.

Matthew could tell from the short interaction that this was your ex-boyfriend, the asshole who cheated on you.

"Hey. I'm James." Matthew knew that James had put out a hand to shake, but he didn't bother shaking it.

"Yeah right uh I better get going." Bucky scratched the back of his head with the hand he reached out to shake the obviously blind man's hand. He needed to leave as fast as he could to stop embarrassing himself.

"You okay?" Matt asked you when you got further away from the restaurant.

"Not really, but I will be. I was just surprised you know, I didn't expect to see him. He really hurt me and I haven't talked to him since I left and I-" you took a deep breath trying to calm yourself not wanting to cry in the middle of the street.

"He hurt me so much, and I'm unable to hate him. He was my first real love, and what he did made me feel awful about myself, but I can't bring myself to hate him. What's wrong with me? "

Matt was the first person who was there for you after the break up, and you didn't really expect to date so soon after having,who you thought was the love of your life, break your heart. He was a stranger, first, neighbour, then a good friend and finally someone who you now called lover.

"Darling... Nothing is wrong with you. It's okay to have so many mixed feelings. The thing he did is really fucking shitty, but that's not the only thing he did. You two had been together for a long time and been through so much, he's not just some guy you never cared about so you could hate him."

Matt wipes a tear from your cheek and you look up at him, both because what he's saying means a lot and because he swore and you don't hear him swear that often.

"I do hope he knows what he lost. You're such an incredible woman, a force to be reckoned with. And the love you offer is not to be taken for granted. I know we haven't been together for long, but It was so easy to fall in love with you."

By the time he's finished your fully crying into his chest, because you really needed to hear that.

"Thank you for saying that. I really appreciate it. I'm sorry I can't say it back right now." You liked Matt a lot you really did, but you weren't ready for the L word yet.

"No need to thank me. And that's okay I'm not going anywhere, I understand. Now let's go home our food is getting cold." Matt takes you by the hand and leads you home.

--------------------------------------------------

Bucky walks home the long way. He really wasn't ready for seeing you. He didn't realise how much he missed you and didn't expect that it would hurt so much seeing you with someone else.

Worst of all, he could tell that the guy you were with meant a lot to you, and that he was your safe place. When he saw how you reached for the guy when you needed comfort. That's what you used to do when you were with him too.

Bucky wondered if that guy knows how lucky he is to have you because Bucky didn't know until he lost you. He'll never forgive himself for letting his insecurities make choices for him. If he had only believed you that you wanted him forever. If only he didn't let himself spiral and convince himself that you would leave, maybe, just maybe he would still be the one holding you.

[The End]

a/n: I really hope you enjoyed reading this I had fun writing it <3 Let me know your thoughts! How are you feeling!

tags: @pattiemac1

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan characters #bucky fic #bucky masterlist #marvel fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #matt murdock #matthew murdock #matt murdock x reader #bucky angst

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