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peterman-spideyparker · 9 months

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

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

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

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

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, Marci Stahl (mentioned)

Word Count: 2,007

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Foggy, please,” you ask softly.

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s going on?” Foggy asks softly.

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N), it’s not your fault.”

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

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

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

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

“I just . . .” you start, but stop.

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

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

“Have you told him any of this?”

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

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

“And Matt doesn’t need another burden.”

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

You nod, pulling Foggy in for another tight hug.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She . . . She did?”

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

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

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

“Fog—.”

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

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

“You told him?” he asks softly.

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

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

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

“Talk?”

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

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

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

“That sounds absolutely delicious.”

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

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

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

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writings-of-a-demigod · 7 months

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As soon as you walked through the door to the office “Why are you late?” Matt asked you.

You groaned “Good morning to you too.” You closed the door behind you.

Foggy rush from his office and gave you a big hug lifting you off the floor. You just looked confused with ‘what the heck?’ look on your face.

“I thought you were dead.” Foggy stopped hugging you and put you down.

“What?! Why?” your voice was loud “Why would you think that?” you ask him.

“Well you haven’t picking up your phone or answering your texts. You scared the crap out of us.” He told you

You looked at Foggy then Matt you felt bad for scaring them like that but that warmed your heart. They were worried about you.

“Actually I wasn’t I knew that you were alright.” Matt sent a cheeky smile your way.

Foggy turned his head to look at Matt “Yeah well you don’t have a heart like mine.”

He took your things to put them on the sofa. Then picked up your water bottle to take a sip.

“I’ve been partying for 3 days straight.” Y/n told them.

Foggy taking a sip from Y/n’s water bottle and chocking halfway through.

“Oh my god why does this have vodka in it?” Foggy asked with a confused look.

Y/n gave them a look “I just told you I’ve been partying for 3 days straight.” You said to them like it was the most obvious thing ever.

“That doesn’t exactly explain the vodka in the bottle.” Matt told you.

“Who do you think starts the party dude?” You gave them the ‘duh’ expression.

“Why? Why God why?” Foggy said dramatically “Why do you keep doing things like that?”

“Because I’m young and stupid. It’s called living.” You said looking at him straight in the eyes.

“They’re right Foggy.” Matt chuckled before going to his desk.

*gif not mine*

#writings-of-a-demigod #daredevil #daredevil imagines #matt murdock x reader #foggy nelson x reader #matt murdock #foggy nelson #marvel imagines

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seafrost-fangirl · 2 years

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Me: We call that a traumatic event.

Me, turning to Karen: Not a “bruh moment.”

Me, turning to Foggy: Not a “major L.”

Me, turning to Matt: And definitely not an “OOF lmao.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #foggy nelson #daredevil #marvel #mcu #foggy nelson x reader

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book-place · 1 year

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Sight and Sound

Warnings: mentions of bad living situations and terrible parenting, child abandonment, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Matt Murdock x child reader, Foggy Nelson x child reader

Request: Matt Murdock x deaf!Reader (child) ?? Not completely deaf, but has trouble hearing. I'll let you use ur imagination for this one! Hope ur not too busy :)

Request by: @popfishjr

*not my gif*

Summary: You couldn’t hear and Matt couldn’t see- what a duo you two made

A/N: Did I run out of ideas at the end? Yes. Is it painfully obvious? Also yes

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

It was ironic really, that’s why Foggy jokingly called the two of you The Eyes and The Ears.

You had the best eyesight of anyone you had ever met, and Matt had the best ears of anyone he had ever met.

But this was the ironic part, you were hard of hearing and Matt was blind.

The two of you were quick to become attached at the hip when you first met, looking- and listening- out for one another in ways that the other couldn’t do for themselves.

Your first meeting was about two years ago, when you were six years old, your parents had ditched you on the streets due to your hearing problems and Matt had just so happened to stumble upon you- literally.

He had been so tired that day that he forgot to keep his senses fully open, so he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and who was around him. You had been leaning up against the side of a building, arms wrapped around your legs to try and protect yourself from the harsh winds of the day, staring down at the pavement and unaware of the man quickly approaching.

Your head had snapped up with wide eyes as Matt tripped over your small body, catching himself on the side of the building right before he fell.

“Oh god,” As soon as he regained his balance he quickly whipped around to face you, “I’m so sorry.”

From a young age, you had been able to read lips very well, it being one of the only ways you could understand others.

You tilted your head to the side slightly, “It’s okay, Mr.” The pitch of your voice was higher than he thought necessary, but he shrugged it off.

“Are you alright?” He asked in worry, sensing how young you were and beginning to let his mind wander as to what you were doing on the ground in the middle of the street.

You squinted your eyes and leaned your head forward a little bit, “Can you repeat that, please?”

He frowned, thinking he had spoken at a normal level, but repeated himself anyway.

“Sorry, sir,” You apologized, shuffling your feet back and forth against the pavement, embarrassment rising up in your mind when you realized you had made him go out of his way just because you couldn’t hear him, “I’m hard of hearing.” You explained.

That’s when it all made sense. Not being able to realize he was coming. Your loud tone. The way you needed him to repeat himself.

“That’s alright.” He made sure to enunciate his words a little bit when he spoke up again.

Without really thinking about it, his mouth had opened and he blurted out an offer, for you to stay with him once it was evident that the reason you were on the street was because you were homeless.

At first, you had hesitated, but something told you that you could trust the man, so you agreed.

Now, two years later, the two of you were inseparable and for the first time in your life, you had a good home, a safe one, where you didn’t have to worry about the fact that you were hard of hearing, never having to be ashamed of it.

“Hey,” Matt called, flickering the lights a little bit as he entered your room in order to get your attention.

You looked up from where you were drawing at your desk with a smile to the man who had become your best friend over the years. But even more than that, he became your father.

“Want to go out for lunch?” Though he knew that you could hear him slightly and could read his lips even better, he used his hands to still sign what he was saying.

When you had first moved in with him, you had revealed that back when you had a home, a kind neighbor had taught you sign language so that you could communicate better with others around you.

Immediately, Matt had insisted that you taught him, even if he couldn’t see, he wanted to make sure that you were as comfortable and taken care of as possible.

Countless hours had been spent sitting under blankets, nestled on the couch side by side, your hands gently guiding his to teach him.

You grinned in return to his request, even though he couldn’t see it, and jumped up from your seat, letting out a small ‘whoop’ in reply.

After quickly slipping your shoes on, the two of you left the apartment, arms looping together unconsciously on instinct, leading one another with your eyes, the other with ears.

While you would let him know when to cross the road, he would be the one to make sure there were no oncoming cars.

He tapped on your arm to get your attention and stop you from walking so that you wouldn’t have to divide your attention from trying to hear him and read his lips and leading the way for the both of you, “Do you want to try that new place near the grocery store?”

You shrugged, making sure to brush your arm up against his so that he could feel the movement, “Don’t care.” You echoed back, trying to be loud above the city noises even though you knew he could hear you just fine.

He paused, thinking, before nodding his head, “Let’s go there.”

You nodded before leading the way, winding through the streets and crowds of people, arm never dropping from Matt’s.

When you finally made it, the welcoming smell of food and feel of warmth hit both of you like a train as you entered, you looking around curiously and the older man tilting his head to the side to listen.

“Well, well,” An all too familiar voice sounded from the side, “If it isn’t The Ears and The Eyes.”

Both of you perked up at the sound of your friend and you dropped Matt’s arm with a grin, “Foggy!” You cheered, rushing over to hug the man.

He gladly returned to favor with a large laugh and smile, playfully scooping you up and spinning you around while Matt smiled as he listened to the interaction.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here, Foggy,” The man told his best friend with a smile and he shrugged.

“Figured I’d try out the new place, seems like you two had the same idea.” He placed you to the ground and quickly ruffled your hair affectionately, “Come on, I already have a table, so I suppose you two knuckleheads can join me.”

“I’m not a knucklehead!” You protested with a giggle, “He is!”

“No, you too.” Though Foggy said that, he was really winking and signing to you that it was really just Matt, to which you laughed even harder.

The brown haired man pretended not to notice that the two of you were having a secret conversation as he followed you to the table.

As he listened to the two of you interact, he couldn’t help but allow the smile that sat upon his face to grow, happier than anything that everything was going so well with you. That he had grown to love you like a daughter.

We are Groot 🤎- @lovanitu @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @irethepotato @femalemarvelself @mukbee @its-hell @ip747 @i-writes-things @popfishjr

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #marvel #mcu #mcu x reader #child reader #matt murkdock x reader platonic #matt murdock #matt murdock x child reader #foggy nelson x reader #foggy nelson #foggy nelson x child reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil #daredevil x child reader

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itdobe-foggy · 2 months

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Real [Foggy Nelson x reader]

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day from me to you! Here’s a fluffy Foggy fic. Also, I listened to so many different playlists on Spotify while writing this. This roughly takes place in 1x12 of the show (divider by saradika)

Thanks to @writings-of-a-demigod and @writeroutoftime for helping out!!!!!

Summary: After finding out Matt is Daredevil, Foggy begins to question everything. He sees you and that all goes away, but what will happen when you two start talking under the New York stars?

Word Count: 2,090

Warnings: none, Matt is DD (implied), fluff (like tooth-rotting), bad writing reader has at least medium-length hair (mentioned once)

With heavy steps, Foggy walks up the stairs to the office, an invisible weight on his shoulders. ‘Was anything Matt ever told the truth? Were they ever even friends? Was anything around him real?’ Then he thought back to you. ‘If nothing else…’ he thought. ‘If nothing else, these feelings are real.’ He turned the metal knob to the office, opening the door.

Everything in and about this place reminds him of Matt. All their time together in college, the laughs they shared, the struggles they promised to get through together, certain awards and knick-knacks decorating their desks, and… you. You, asleep at the desk in the middle of the twin offices. Your hair sprawled over your shoulders, falling on the folders and pictures beneath your arms.

His features soften a bit, glad Matt isn’t here, glad to see that someone can have some peace around here. All Foggy could do was think about the betrayal he felt from Matt. ‘How could he have lied to Foggy for so long? And about something so important, and… dangerous?’ His thoughts were constantly racing since he learned Matt’s secret but as soon as he saw you, they silenced. For the past week, all Foggy could do was doubt everything.

He softly closes the door behind him, making his way over to you. He puts his hand on your arm, slightly shaking you in an attempt to wake you up. “Y/N?” He whispered, receiving no response in return. “Y/N… come on, wake up.” He saw you starting to stir in your sleep, still not waking up fully. So, he tried again. “Y/N,” he said with a direct voice, continuing to shake your arm. He saw you start to flutter your eyes open, you furrowing your eyebrows.

“Morning, sunshine.” He said with a smile forming on his face as he saw you open your eyes. You lift your head up, looking around in confusion, not remembering falling asleep. You blink your eyes a few times, wiping the little trail of drool leaving the corner of your lips. Your eyes land on Foggy, who's standing at the corner of your desk with a small smile on his face. Despite the smile on his face, Foggy looked a little tired, like you, and a lot sad.

“Hey…” You spoke in a slightly groggy voice having just woken up. “What time is it?” Foggy checks his watch as you sit straight up in your chair. “It’s just past midnight. Why didn’t you go home if you were tired?” He still stands in front of you, concern and worry clearly written on his face.

You cleared your throat, able to talk with less of a rasp now. “I stayed late… later than I thought, I guess. I was just doing some research on the Castle case. I wanted to try and help you out.” Your words trail off as you get done explaining yourself.

His features soften, glad to have someone like you in his life; he’s more glad to have you in his life. “You didn’t have to do that.” He talks barely above a whisper, whether because you just woke up, or because he's unsure of his words, you aren’t sure.

“It was no problem, really.” You say with a smile starting to dance on your lips dismissively. You stand up, starting to walk the short distance to the mini kitchen your office had. “I know it’s a little late, but do you want some coffee? I have more things I need to look through, so…” He starts to readjust his shoulder bag awkwardly while you explain yourself.

“Oh, no.” He begins. “I just came here to get a few of my things.” His voice gets quiet at the end of his sentence.

Your heart hurts a little at his words. They weren’t rude in any manner of speaking, but they still stung and made your heart drop into your stomach. Your mouth opens and closes, starting to say something then deciding against it. Instead, you decide on a half-assed smile as you meet his eyes.

“Okay, well, I’ll leave you be.”

He gives a soft but curt nod and begins to walk towards his office. “Hey, Foggy?” you interrupt his movement.

He turns around with wide eyes, "Yeah?" You think of how you want to word what you're trying to say. You come up empty, except for the words, "Are you okay?" You asked him sincerely. It was obvious that something was different with him and Matt.

"Yeah, I'm fine." The words fall out of his mouth like he's trying to convince the both of you.

Without missing a beat, you speak up. "No, you aren't, Foggy. I know you. I've known you for years. So, please don't lie to me. You don't have to spill your guts to me, just tell me if something is bothering you."

You talk with a sense of desperation, hoping your words get through to him. You watch his gaze soften, not that it was a hard look to begin with. More like the toughness he was presenting left, leaving just Foggy.

Wordlessly, you walk closer to Foggy, slowly bringing your hands up to his chest. You grab at the strap of his shoulder bag, dragging it down his arm. You hear the leather fall to the floor with a soft thump.

Ditching the idea of coffee, files, or personal items, you reach down clasping his hand in yours. He knew from the moment you walked over to him what you were doing. You were going to the roof.

Foggy loved that about you - he came to terms a while ago that he was, in fact, hopelessly in love with you - you knew what he needed even if he himself didn't know.

Hand in hand, you open the office door, closing it behind you, and go down the hallway and up the stairs to the door that says 'roof access.'

This wasn't new to either of you. The pair always went onto the roof when something was wrong, or when the world felt like it was caving in on you. So you did what you always do.

You two walked out, hearing a loud metal clang of the door behind you. You found a spot and Foggy, ever the gentleman, takes off his jacket to lay down on the ground for you.

You lay next to Foggy, his thick jacket protecting you from feeling the rough asphalt below you. Arms crossed over your stomach, you silently stare up at the New York stars, tracing invisible constellations in your mind.

A few minutes of comfortable silence pass between you two as you enjoy the peace of mind this environment brings you. The starlight on your faces, the sounds of the city surrounding you, the tiny rocks faintly digging into your back, not as bad as it could be thanks to Foggy's suit jacket under you.

"It's Matt," Foggy breaks the silence, barely speaking loud enough for you to hear him. You turn your head a little, looking over at him from the corner of your eyes. You see he’s still looking straight up at the sky, not ready to look at you. “I can’t get into it, but…” He shrugs, struggling to find the words. “I just- I know that things aren’t going to be the same.” He’s practically whispering now, like he’s worried you’ll run away if he speaks too loud.

You turn your head more to look at him fully with your ear now on the ground. There aren’t any words exchanged for a beat. “Well, whenever you can talk about it, you know where I’ll be.” He moves his head, now facing you. He nods gently, glad the two of you have an unspoken agreement about the roof and its sacredness.

He stares at you, looking into your eyes. Foggy looks at you with such intensity, you’d think he was trying to figure out all of your secrets. But this is normal. He always looks at you like this. Like every moment was a gift from God that he treasured.

Not that you knew that’s why he looked at you that intensely.

No, you two were just good friends. You had been best friends with Foggy since he and Matt started at Landman and Zach. You get along with Matt just fine but you’ve always been closer to Foggy.

As you return the stare in his eyes, you see his eyes move. From your eyes to your lips, to your nose and hair. There’s a foreign tension in the air. Usually, the air between you two is light and carefree, but now it’s heavy. It sits like a blanket over you. The silence is thick and almost tangible until Foggy breaks the silence.

“I love you.” He speaks, the first time anyone has spoken in a while. A hint of sincerity drips from his words, going unnoticed by you.

“I love you too,” you respond, smiling. This wasn’t the first time you two had said this. You didn’t say it all the time, but often enough. You both loved each other. He knows everything about you and you know everything about him.

He immediately starts shaking his head. He leans up, turning around to continue looking at you. He sits with his palms against the gravel, fingers splayed apart, neck turned almost painfully back at you. You follow his actions, sitting up and still looking at him with furrowed brows.

“No, I love you. I think about you all the time. I think about how your eyes glow when you hear your favorite song. I think about how you remember some random person's birthday but don’t remember to drink water. I think about the way you hunch over the table when we play a board game. I love you. I love everything about you.”

Your mouth hangs barely open in shock. Your mind blanks for a second, a minute, or maybe an hour. You aren't entirely sure. His voice brings you out of whatever trance you're in. "And I just ruined our friendship because you don't feel the same." He's barely able to finish the sentence before you start talking.

"No, no, no, no, no," you rush out. "It's not that, Foggy. I just... it took me by surprise." You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. "I think about you too." You begin speaking after a moment of thick silence. "I think about how you run your hands through your hair when you're nervous, how you belt out sea shanties when you think you're alone, how you have different dorky ringtones for just about everyone... I love you too, Foggy. " Your cheeks now tinted with a slightly rosy tint, you look at him, really look at him, and smile.

“I do not!- how did you know about the sea shanties?” His tone begins as defensive but then shifts to curious. A smile grows on your face, taking up half of it from how big you’re smiling. You begin to laugh, and he joins in but still skeptical about how you knew what he thought was a secret only he knew.

“Let’s just say a drunk Matt is very willing to talk about you.” You say with a shit-eating grin now on your face. The two of you sit in that moment, Foggy thinking about what other secrets Matt may have told you, and you smiling nervously, waiting for him to acknowledge your reciprocated feelings.

He must sense your growing nerves, as he ignores the thoughts of all the embarrassing things he’s done in front of Matt and focuses back on you. You, with the shining eyes and bright smile.

“Anyways,” he begins, shaking his head, “would you… would you wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date… with me? I know this new Thai place that opened up on 42nd and 9th. If not, that’s-”

You continue to smile, putting your hand over his, making him stop his rambling. “Foggy, I’d love to. How’s Saturday? Say, 6 o’clock?”

He starts nodding his head, smiling even brighter than you are.

“That’s great. I’ll pick you up then.”

“Great, it’s a date.”

You two look at each other, a sense of what can only be described as longing in both pairs of eyes. Longing for more but knowing you have to wait, at least just a little while.

‘Thank whatever God is up there,’ Foggy thinks. ‘Thank God this is real.’

#foggy nelson #foggy nelson x reader #foggy nelson x you #foggy nelson imagine #foggy nelson fic #foggy nelson x y/n #valentines day

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chvoswxtch · 8 months

Note

I feel like Foggy doesn't get enough love. I would like to request a vault track from Speak Now for him, please!

you know what, you're absolutely right. foggy nelson doesn't get enough love and i'm tired of y'all acting like he's not a babe so let's get into it

as a reminder, from the vault means it's spicy! (minors dni)

headcannon below the cut

innocent (foggy's version) (from the vault)*

he is anything BUT

now don't get me wrong, foggy definitely strikes me as the hopeless romantic type

I can see him enjoying some sweet, slow, passionate love making- wanting to make sure his partner feels loved and desired, that they feel every ounce of pleasure he can possibly offer (he's definitely a giver), and he always puts his partner's needs before his own

I see him being more of the submissive type in a typical setting

but do not let that sweet smile fool you

bc underneath that physical embodiment of sunshine in human form is a FREAK

alexa play freak nasty by megan thee stallion

now, while foggy is usually all sweet smiles and friendly behavior, he can get aggressive and be dominant if need be

exhibit a: beating the shit out of those guys with a bat to protect karen in s1

exhibit b: calling reyes' bluff in the precinct in s2 (basically all of s2 foggy, mans was done with everyone's shit)

exhibit c: running for district attorney in s3, publicly calling out tower and fisk despite the negative consequences, standing in bullseye's way just to protect karen even though he had no weapon or way out (he's been hanging around matty too long) and just all around being a bad bitch the whole time (he had big dick energy all season)

honorable mention: that haircut in s3, you can't tell me that man doesn't fuck

exhibit d: (pun intended) dicking marci down after the bulletin incident right there on the couch leaving her at a loss for words (i'm pretty sure she just says "wow")

it seems like when he gets pushed too hard, or when he's completely done with everyone's shit, he basically snaps and stops playing nice

I personally find this hot and I think his partner would too and would absolutely volunteer to let foggy take out his frustration on them

maybe he's having a bad day, his current case is a shitshow, matt is being a human disaster like usual, karen is out doing something that's sure to spike his blood pressure, and the only relief he can find is fucking you over his desk hard (we're talking the desk gets moved to the other side of the room, hard)

but it's not all stress related fucking

foggy is extremely playful and flirty, and I think that translates into the bedroom, or wherever the two of you find yourselves (again, I see him as normally submissive, so if you tell him to do something, he's gonna do it)

maybe you get really excited watching him win a case in the courtroom, and you decide he deserves a little reward for working so hard lately, so you shove him into an empty supply closet and blow him right there in the court house. but foggy, being the man he is, insists on returning the favor, leaving matt to rush out of that court house in horror

and don't even get me started on drunk foggy

he's definitely gotten a little handsy and fucked you in the bathroom at josie's, or out in the alley against the wall, bc neither one of you could wait until you got home

in conclusion your honor, this man fucks, I rest my case

#court's 3k followers celebration #court's 3k friends celebration #the eras tour (court's version)#foggy nelson #foggy nelson x you #foggy nelson x reader #foggy nelson headcannon #foggy nelson request #foggy nelson smut

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 11 months

Text

LOTMF's Masterlist:

(Note: this should go without saying, but I'm not your mother and therefore it's not my responsibility to police what you read, so if you're under 18 I'd appreciate you sticking to the T & under stories.)

(All of my works are cross-posted to AO3 ONLY. If you see them on Wattpad, etc, please report them!)

Salvation (M 🔥, 12 Chapters, ~31,200 words, Complete)

Salvation Chapter 1 - Matt's PoV (T, One-shot, ~3,300 words)

Salvation - 6 Months Later (T, One-Shot, ~2,500 words)

Meet Me in the Aftermath (E 🌶️, One-shot, ~4,000 words)

Angel of God, My Guardian Dear (E 🌶️, NOW COMPLETE!)

A Little Angel (or Devil?) (sequel to AoG)(E 🌶️, ONGOING)

Angel of God -- The St. Agnes Years (T, ONGOING)

Cooking Up Love (T, NOW COMPLETE!)

Mise en Place (sequel to Cooking Up Love) (M 🔥 or E 🌶️, ONGOING)

Sweet on You (Not Yet Rated, ONGOING)

It's Always Been You (Reader's Version) (E 🌶️, One-Shot, ~3,500 words)

It's Always Been You (Michael's Version) (E 🌶️, One-Shot, 5k words)

It's Always Been Us (E 🌶️, ONGOING)

Conversations (E 🌶️, One-Shot, ~2800 words)

Mind the Gap (E, 🌶️, ONGOING)

A Good Read (COMING SOON)

Make My Wish Come True (T, One-Shot, ~2500 words)

Be Mine, Valentine (M🔥, One-Shot, ~2900 words)

Of Coffee and Cinnamon Rolls (T, ONGOING)

Five Times Foggy Almost Confessed His Feelings for You (+ the Time He Actually Did) (COMING SOON)

Untitled Foggy x F!Reader Fic (COMING SOON)

That Summer (M, ONGOING)

Untitled Steven Grant x F!Reader Series (COMING SOON)

#lotmf writes #lotmf's masterlist #matt murdock x reader #michael kinsella x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #foggy nelson x reader #frank castle x reader

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martyrmurdock · 2 years

Text

𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄

♡ note: hi, this is inspired by that one quote where it goes “if you're raised with an angry man in your house, / there will always be an angry man in your house. / you will find him even when he is not there.” this fic isn’t directly related to the quote, but i hope u enjoy :]

♡ pairing: foggy nelson, frank castle, karen page, matt murdock & gn reader

♡ word count: 3k

♡ tags: angst; hurt/comfort; au where frank, matt, foggy, karen, and reader are in a friend group; platonic relationships / friendships; arguments; yelling; reader does not do well with people yelling at all; reader has an adverse reaction to frank and matt arguing and feels really bad about it; matt calls reader sweetheart

Frank and Matt are arguing. Again. Normally, these occasions aren’t too bad. Normally, it’s just a disagreement they partake in or a bit of banter. The duo are much friendlier now- perhaps, even friends, although neither one would ever say so. They’re each too prideful for that.

The pair frequently rib into each other and trade barbs- it’s simply how their dynamic works-, but today, it’s different. Today is a day like before. Before when there was only pure dislike and unfettered animosity between them, and they’d exchange blows that aimed to bruise instead of words that aimed to rile up the other.

They’ve gotten into their fair share of arguments, but those squabbles always ended before they could get too ugly. Either Foggy, Karen, or you would deescalate the situation by redirecting the conversation towards a different topic or Matt and Frank would stop talking mid-argument and leave, taking time to cool off before returning back to the group gathering with a more level head.

It’s never been this bad.

Truthfully, you don’t even know how it got to this point, ignorant to what sparked this particular argument. All you know is that the situation has gotten wildly out of hand, escalating so quickly before your very eyes that you can hardly wrap your head around what’s currently happening.

Standing toe-to-toe in the middle of Matt’s living room, Matt and Frank look like they’re seconds away from engaging in an all out brawl.

“Back off, Red,” Frank says in a low, dangerous tone that sends a shiver down your spine and makes the hairs on your arm stand on end. You’ve never heard Frank sound like this before, his tone so dark and threatening, and you know that the man standing before you know is the man that strikes fear into the heart of others as the Punisher.

Off to the side of the main room of Matt’s apartment, you stand between Karen and Foggy as you all fruitlessly attempt to get Matt and Frank to knock it off. Unconsciously, you scoot closer to Foggy, instinctively seeking the comfort of your dear friend. The blond notices the subtle movement out of the corner of his eyes and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You alright?” He whispers into your ear, without looking at you. His blue eyes stay trained on Matt and Frank, unwilling to allow his gaze to stray for even a moment- unsure of what may happen if he does so.

You take a deep breath in, trying to calm the racing of your heart before shakily exhaling out. “I’m alright, Fog,” you lie. You are definitely not alright, but you don’t wish to weigh down your friend with your silly worries, especially not when there are more pressing matters at hand like stopping your other friends from physically tearing into each other. “I just don’t like seeing them argue,” you admit, which is true. You hate watching two of the people you love most in this world spew such hateful words at each other. It hurts.

“Me neither,” Foggy sighs, sounding impossibly tired for a brief moment. For some reason, it makes you feel guilty. You’re not the only one who dislikes when Matt and Frank fight (you know for a fact that neither Foggy or Karen enjoy their verbal collisions), but you feel like you take it harder than them, and that idea makes you feel bad.

Foggy squeezes your shoulder before letting his hand drop back down to rest by his side, and you find it easier to breathe, even if it’s just ever so slight.

The sound of Matt raising his voice startles you from your thoughts. Your breath hitches and your chest tightens uncomfortably when Frank’s voice rises to match Matt’s in volume.

You don’t who it is that begins to all out shout- whether it’s Matt or Frank-, but it doesn’t matter. The drastic change in volume makes you instinctively flinch. Hard. The action goes unnoticed by the two yelling (they’re much too engrossed in their verbal clashing to pay you any mind), but not by the two by your side. They exchange glances, looking at you in between them before looking at each other. They don’t need words to communicate what they’re thinking.

Your head swims- the loud angry voices of your loved ones amplified in the depths of your mind. You’re so lost in thought that you jump in place when Karen places a careful hand on your arm to garner your attention. Her expression softens when she sees how you react.

“Hey, do you want to hang somewhere else while Foggy and I sort this out?” Karen quietly asks, barely audible over Matt and Frank’s overlapping voices. Karen’s voice is gentle and kind and completely unlike the sharp and scathing tones of your friends, who are locked in their heated stand off just a few feet away. With the hand clasped around your arm, she rubs small comforting circles into your skin.

You want to deny her suggestion, to assure her that you’re okay, but when you open your mouth to respond to Karen, the words get stuck in your throat. How frustrating. You close your mouth, pressing your lips tightly together, and roughly swallow- trying to dislodge them. You’re ready to lie to Karen, even if the assurance will taste acrid on your tongue, but a roaring yell- louder than anything you’ve heard so far- makes you change your mind.

“Y-yeah, I’ll be on the roof,” you stutter out. If you could think more clearly, you’d feel embarrassed for tripping over your words, but all you could think about in this moment was getting as far as you could from the yelling.

Karen gives you the most comforting smile she can muster, but it’s strained around the edges. “I’ll go up and get you when this is dealt with,” she promises. Before you can leave, flee as far as you can from the scene, Karen squeezes your arm and gives you a look. “If you need me for any reason, call me.”

Despite your current state, the corner of your lips curls up into something that almost resembles a smile. You’re thankful to have a friend like Karen in your life. “I will, Kare,” you place your hand over the one she has on your arm, “Promise.”

Satisfied with your reply, Karen releases her easy grip on you, allowing you to book it towards Matt’s front door. As soon as you’re out the door, out of the apartment, you immediately make your way to the staircase that leads to the rooftop.

A sense of urgency overcomes you as if something truly terrible will happen if you don’t make it to the roof in time, even if there is no time limit, no countdown. The arguing, the senseless yelling, has jumbled your thoughts, leaving you feel discombobulated. You cannot shake off your irrationality, cannot even see that you are being irrational. You increase your stride, skipping over every other step as you run up them as fast as you can without tripping over your feet and falling flat on your face.

"Why is this so damn heavy?” you mumble to yourself once you make it to the top of the staircase, grunting as you push your shoulder against the rooftop access door. You push and push and stumble, nearly falling over when the door suddenly flings open beneath your weight. You’re quick to stabilize yourself on your feet, almost tripping over nothing when when the door loudly slams behind you, effectively startling you.

On shaky legs, you speed walk over to the edge of the roof, curling your hands around the concrete barrier meant to prevent one from falling off the building and tumbling down to meet their untimely end. Loose gravel digs into your palm, biting into the skin as you tighten your grip. It hurts, but the pain is minimal. So minimal, in fact that you could easily ignore it, but instead, you focus on it. The slight pain forces you into the moment, grounding you into the present. Just like how the brisk air on your face is cold, stealing your body’s warmth the longer you stand out in the open, but it still feels good because you can feel it.

You take a few deep breaths- inhaling in, holding your breath, and exhaling out before repeating the cycle. You do it over and over again until your brain feels less foggy, and you can actually think relatively clearly.

A tsunami tide of shame and embarrassment crashes over you as you think about how you reacted to Matt and Frank arguing. It was stupid of you to get so worked up over it. Utterly unreasonable of you. You may not like it when people raise their voices and shout, but you’re not sure there’s anybody who does like it. You didn’t have to run off like a scared little kid just because Matt and Frank raised their voices. You weren’t even on the receiving end of their yelling for crying out loud. Your reaction speaks volumes of how truly pathetic you are.

The sound of the door to the rooftop swinging open immediately makes you tense up, jolting you from your downward spiral of self-pity. You turn your head and look over your shoulder, expecting to see Karen, who’s presumably come to get you, but to your surprise, you see Matt and Frank.

The tension in your body doesn’t dissipate as it normally would when you're greeted with the sight of two of your dearest friends. Instead, you go even more rigid, your body wound up even tighter than before as the pair come closer to you. You can still recall the sound of them of screaming, how rough and venomous their voices sounded as they spat vitriol at each other. The memory bounces around in your mind like a pinball machine.

Frank’s dark eyes stay trained on you, scanning your face and body as he observes your facial expression and body language. One glance at you is all it takes for him to stop in his footsteps, digging the heels of his black combat boots into the dusty ground, and hold out an arm to prevent Matt from approaching you any further.

Matt opens his mouth- ready to protest-, but when Frank whispers for him to listen in that gruff tone of his, the brunet presses his lips together and inclines his head towards you, listening to the roaring of your pulse and the swift beating of your heart in your chest. Matt holds his hands up, palms facing you as if he’s placating a cornered animal.

“Sweetheart,” Matt softly says, his tone completely different than it was when he was arguing with Frank, “Is it okay for us to come closer?”

You turn your body around, away from the concrete ledge, to face them. Your lips part to reply, but nothing comes out as you hesitate.

“You can say no.” Your eyes dart from Matt’s face to Frank’s. His previously hard expression softens when your eyes meet his. “It’s alright if you want us to stay over here.”

“No, it’s okay.” You shake your head. “You can…you can come closer,” you say, but the words are unsteady on your tongue, coming out as clumsy, as if you’re unsure of them.

A furrow forms between Matt’s brows, but he chooses to listen to you, taking slow steps towards you. Frank follows his lead, broadcasting his movements so as to not startle you in any way. They both stop a good few feet away from you, not keen on pushing your limits.

“Where are Foggy and Karen?” you ask after a lapse of awkward silence falls over you three.

“They’re inside the apartment,” Matt quickly answers. His tongue darts out of his mouth to wet his bottom lip. “Do you want them here?” The instead tacked on the end of that question goes unsaid but you can still hear it.

“No,” you rush out, making Frank raise a brow at you. You heat up under his gaze and avert your eyes away from duo to look out at the skyline. Looking out at the cityscape is safe. You can’t embarrass yourself that way. You clear your throat. “No, it’s alright.”

You may be shaken up from what happened earlier, but you’re not afraid of the men standing in front of you. The shouting frightened you, yes, you’ll admit it, but not them. Never them. You know that neither Frank nor Matt would ever hurt you. You want to make sure that they know you know that.

The familiar sound of your name rolling off of Frank’s tongue reaches your ears. “Would you look at me for a moment?”

You peel your eyes from the dreary but comforting view from Matt’s corner of Hell’s Kitchen and shift your gaze onto Frank’s face. His expression is tight. Below his set of dark brows, which are slightly pinched together, his eyes are narrowed at you in a way that makes you feel small. The corners of his lips dip downward, marking his face with a frown.

Frank stares at you, analyzing you like you’re a specimen beneath a microscope. You release the breath you were unknowingly withholding when the hard edges of his face smoothens out, the tight set of his jaw disappearing.

“‘M sorry,” Frank says, gruff but earnest. Your eyes widen at the sudden apology falling from Frank’s lips. “For uh for scaring you like that. Red and I got so caught up in our shit that we didn’t realize we were making you feel bad.”

“You didn’t scare me,” you blurt out, panicky. Frank gives you a skeptical look, clearly not believing you. Meanwhile, Matt’s brows rise up to his hairline, shocked that your heartbeat indicates you’re telling the truth. “The yelling freaked me out, but you guys specifically didn’t scare me,” you clarify, “I could never be afraid of you guys. It could have been anyone yelling, I would have reacted in the same way,” you ramble, clenching and unclenching your hands into fists to release your nervous energy.

“Then, we’re sorry for yelling, sweetheart,” Matt gently says, kindly cutting you off in the midst of your anxious babbling. “Frank and I are adults. We should have handled our,” Matt pauses, searching for the right term to describe their verbal (almost physical) altercation, “disagreement in a more mature manner.”

“I’m sorry too.” You rub the back of your neck when both Matt and Frank turn their head toward you, matching expressions of confusion on their faces. “I’m sorry for freaking out like that. It was dumb of me to get all worked up just because you guys raised your voices,” you let your head drop as you laugh. The sound is hollow and full of self-deprecation. “It was stupid of me,” you bitterly say, staring holes into the ground.

“Don’t say that.” The firmness of Frank’s voice makes you jerk your head up. His eyes are hard, but not unkind when you meet his unwavering gaze. “Wasn’t stupid or dumb of you to react like that, so don’t say it was.”

The harshness of his tone makes you shrink slightly, even if you know that Frank isn’t upset with you.

“What Frank is trying to say,” Matt turns his head towards Frank, brows furrowed in blatant displeasure at the man’s less-than-gentle tone. “Is that you have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. You shouldn’t feel bad for reacting in a completely valid way.”

“Okay,” you say in a small voice. You don’t quite believe Frank and Matt, but you don’t want to argue with them. You’ve had more than enough of arguing for today.

“Okay,” Matt repeats, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. He knows you don’t believe them, but he won’t push the matter. Not right now. Maybe later, at a more appropriate time, Matt will talk to you about it, but you don’t need him pressing you about it right now.

“Do you want to go back down to the apartment now” He angles his head towards the door on the roof that connects to his apartment, questioning. “Or stay up on the roof?”

Your eyes drift from Matt and Frank to the city’s skyline. The day has passed you by, quicker than you realized, because the sun is setting beneath the horizon already, washing the sky in a melody of red and orange hues.

You turn to press your front against the concrete barrier and stare out at the horizon.

“Can we stay out here? Just for a little while longer,” you quietly ask, your words tinged with a plea as if Frank or Matt would deny your request.

“Course, we can.” Frank takes a slow step towards you, closely watching you for any indication that you’re uncomfortable with the decrease in distance between you. When he finds nothing, he takes a few more steps until he’s by your side. Matt trails after Frank, taking his place on the other side of you.

Both of them are close enough that you can feel the body heat radiating off of them, but far enough away to not crowd or overwhelm you. It makes you smile, how considerate of you they are. You’re lucky to have friends like them in your life.

Gently, you lean to the side to brush your upper arm against Matt’s before doing the same to Frank. I forgive you, the action silently says.

Matt shifts slightly until he is so near to you that his arm is flush against yours. Warmth emanates from his body, making you sigh in contentment. On the other side of you, Frank shuffles, moving closer to you as well. His shoulder gently knocks into you, prompting you to lean against him. Thank you, they soundlessly reply, we are undeserving of your forgiveness.

You sag against Frank, your body going lax as you let your head fall and rest against his shoulder. Your knuckles brush against Matt’s, the touch feathery-light before he gently slips his hand into yours. The tension in your frame finally unravels like a spool of loose thread, and you feel like you can breathe properly now that you’re comfortably sandwiched between two of the most important people in your life.

#matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #the punisher x reader #daredevil x reader #karen page x reader #foggy nelson x reader #matt murdock x platonic reader #frank castle x platonic reader #matt murdock x gn reader #frank castle x gn reader #daredevil x platonic reader #karen page x platonic reader #martyr writes #saint.matthew murdock #saint.frank castle #saint.karen page #saint.foggy nelson

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ardentprose · 2 months

Text

Candlelight Candor

A/N: This is the first public one shot I've written in a very long time so bear with me as I find my footing again.

Type: just sweet and simple fluff; Foggy Nelson x reader

Length: 4.8k~ | 20 min

Warnings: cursing; minor suggestive thoughts; fem!reader

Feel free to message me if a necessary warning isn't mentioned.

Summary: the worst storm of the decade, an unreliable old building, and being alone with your crush, Foggy Nelson

Hell hath no fury like a New York Nor’easter. It didn’t matter whether you had grown accustomed to the brutal winters in the city that never sleeps, because each summer lulled you into a false sense of serenity before winter struck again, the sky darkened, and ten inches of snow were threatening to bury the streets.

Any sane person would be hunkered down in their home, buried under an appropriate amount of blankets, and soundly sleeping away the precious hours gifted by the closing of the workplace.

Any sane person not in love, that is.

When you got the call that Karen was trapped north of the city, as the town she was investigating was hit with the storm first, you were tempted to hang up and go back to sleep. But how could you say no to:

“Good morning, sunshine!”

It took an embarrassingly small amount of convincing for Foggy Nelson to coax you from your haven and come to his law firm to lend an extra hand in the last day leading up to a case. The enigmatic lawyer had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it.

As you tugged on your heavy duty winter coat and forced your triple socked feet into your boots, you dearly wanted to curse the man for taking advantage of your infatuation. Of course, in his mind, he thought you were just a dedicated friend, and while that may be true, it would be more honest to say you were at his beck and call because you were in love with him.

Consequently, you find yourself hunched over a small desk in a small law firm with poor heating, hoping the feeling in your fingers returns.

And that was before the lights went out.

Precarious flames flicker among documents scattered across whatever surface area could be spared. Careful of the two candles flanking your papers - one cinnamon spice and another the supposed ‘scent of rain’ - you hunch lower and squint, trying to make connections between the paragraphs of legal precedents and other such jargon in the wavering light.

You don’t know how much longer you can strain your neck, scrounging every line of text for a loophole or mistype that will get this case thrown out. The ache in your neck grows insistent until you are forced to lift your head and roll your shoulders to appease the pain for a moment. Your eyes, sore from reading in dim light, fall on the lawyer across from you, taking in the welcome sight of him compared to dull printed texts.

Albeit, Foggy sits across from you in a similar position, muttering from down-turned lips as frustration pinches his expression. Occasionally, he heaves a sigh or grunt through clenched teeth as he hits another dead end. Even still, you allow yourself a small smile at how the orange flames cast warmth on his blond locks, causing them to shimmer like spun gold between the shadows.

A prick of alertness wakes you from your dreamy gaze and casting your eyes around you for the sixth sense of being watched, you find the other partner of the firm, Matt Murdock, smiling in your direction as if he could see you.

Your smile falls immediately, though the endeavor is fruitless as your remaining blush gives you away. Despite not having vision, you knew Matt caught you making heart eyes again at your ‘strictly professional legal friend’. It wasn’t the first time Matt sent you an impish smirk or raised his brows in question at your obvious pining. Especially when you laughed too loudly at Foggy’s quips. But what about it? You liked a sense of humor in a man and Foggy Nelson was a comedian in your enamored eyes.

The maddening thing was Matt doesn’t even pause his reading, skirting over lines of Braille with the same urgency as Foggy muttering out paragraphs of legalities.

You roll your eyes and Matt’s grin widens, but you choose to ignore him, checking your wrist watch for the time.

Your glance never makes it to your wrist, but diverges instead to the window when a sudden bang knocks the glass within it’s frame. The forceful wind rattles the glass with vengeance until it settles into an ominous vibrato. It wasn’t the first time that hour, but the three of you jump in your seats all the same.

“For Pete’s sake, this case better be able to fix that goddamn window.” Foggy curses, rubbing a palm over his heart from the abrupt break in silence.

“We have to win the case in the first place.” You lament, heaving a sigh to regain a normal heart rate.

“We have less than an hour to find a reasonable cause to dismiss this case. But I’m pretty sure I’m reading algebra right now for all the good these candles are doing.” Foggy groans, tussling his hair into a visible display of his perturbation. Your eyes follow the motion, happy to see something other than poorly lit paper stimulate your vision, though you sympathize with his annoyance.

“Justice never sleeps.” You quip and Foggy matches your wry smile.

“Of course the courthouse is open.” Foggy continues, flipping over another page. “Hell has frozen over but did the courthouse care? Did they reschedule? Of course not! Why indulge the safety of their tax-paying citizens when they could freeze them to death instead?”

“Whoa there, Foggy, is that the hangover talking or just you?” Matt teases, his fingers hesitating over some lines as conversation picks up.

“If anyone is hungover it’s you and your stupid smile that somehow thinks it’s appropriate to make an appearance right now.”

“I’m not the one who suggested shots last night.”

“I’m not the one who drank them all.”

“Hey, I’ve been quiet and well-behaved this entire time.”

“Guys…twenty minutes…” You interrupt, your own sense of justice dwindling by the hour.

You were more than accustomed to the bickering between the two law firm partners. Despite not being a lawyer yourself, your paralegal abilities were usually called into action since being acquainted with Nelson and Murdock over a previous case. You didn’t even work for them, yet you found yourself here more often than your own office. You also found yourself playing referee alongside legal assistance. At this point, you had helped Foggy and Matt win so many cases and stay friends while doing so, that you were an honorary member of the firm.

Foggy flips a page before him, chin resting on his fist. “I say we call the courthouse and tell them we were trapped inside. Couldn’t open the front door cause of all the…”

He squints.

His eyes go wide.

“Fuck! I found the damned thing!”

A groan of relief resounds from Matt and he throws himself back into his swivel chair, spinning to the side slightly. You break into a smile, watching the candlelight twinkle in Foggy’s eyes with his newfound ecstasy.

“Will it help win the case?” You ask, voice soft if only because of your overwhelming affection.

“This piece of evidence - or should I say lack thereof, will get this case thrown out into the nearest dumpster!” Foggy exclaims, meeting your eyes with his own mirth. Your smile grows larger at this revelation.

Matt tilts his head and once more you feel that devil grin, but you refuse to meet his invisible gaze. However, your up-tick in heart rate betrays your fear of a much bigger revelation being exposed by the brunet lawyer.

Matt seems to spare you from your fears, speaking instead of the case at hand.

“Foggy, I don’t know what we’d do without you. I don’t know how I missed such an obvious detail right in front of me.”

As he stands up, Matt compiles his own version of documents into his briefcase.

“What an oversight on my part.”

He grins expectantly.

You throw your head back and groan, then lift your head in order to glare at Matt.

“That’s the last one, Murdock! You’ve hit your ‘blind’ joke quota for today.”

Matt pouts, jerking on his winter pea coat.

“It’s my law firm, I can make as many jokes as I want. Who am I offending?”

“It’s our law firm, buddy.” Foggy comes to your defense. “And your jokes are in poor taste only because they’re not funny.”

“Hey,” Matt lifts the strap over his shoulder and slides out from behind his desk. “I’m funny.”

“Funny-looking.” You tease. Foggy snorts and points the tip of his pen at you in approval. You bite your lip to keep your grin from spreading into ‘infatuated’ lengths.

“Now, I can’t help that,” Matt gestures to the glasses in his hand before slipping them onto his nose, “given, you know, that I’m-“

“No more!” You point your finger at Matt in warning.

“Alright, jeez. Tough crowd.” Matt grins, still clearly proud of his sense of corny humor.

Before he makes his way to the door, he turns partway to explain his departure.

“I’ll head out first to meet the client early. It’s gonna be hell catching a cab in this storm. Plus the traffic will be worse…you get it.” Matt sighs and snatches his cane from where it rests beside the entryway. He lifts it as a form of dismissal.

“Good idea. I’ll revise our argument first then head over. It shouldn’t take more than a few quick amendments.” Foggy says.

Matt nods and turns to leave.

You turn back to clean up your work, but your head snaps up when you hear Matt fall against the door.

“Are you okay?” You blurt as Matt pushes himself upright on the door.

“I misjudged the space between myself and the door.” He chuckles. “Can’t see anything with the lights out.”

“Leave.”

You turn your back on Matt and his snickering.

“I don’t know how you put up with him.” You say once he’s gone and Foggy rolls his eyes in similar exasperation.

“I’ve learned to stop questioning my life choices when it comes to Matt.”

You laugh, humming in agreement. You lift your gaze to hand Foggy the collected papers across the desk and find his eyes already on you.

Before you can contemplate why his eyes take their time traveling down your face to your outstretched hand, the his easy smile lowers into contemplation once he accepts the papers. He licks his lips and begins scribbling down notes with fervor. Now that the essential information has been found, you’re left with nothing else to do but leave it in the capable hands of the brilliant lawyer before you.

Before you realize it, you’re in a candlelight-induced trance, watching Foggy’s eagle sharp gaze flit back and forth. A small, petty part of you wishes his eyes held the same concentration on you instead of the paperwork. You knew from experience how nice it was to have Foggy’s attention on you.

Meeting Foggy Nelson was like the sun breaking through the clouds after a rainstorm. He had come into your life with undeniable presence and charm, which mostly stemmed from how Foggy was unapologetically himself in all contexts. He didn’t put on the airs of the egotistical disposition that many lawyers were known to have.

That’s not to say he didn’t speak up whenever he found himself in an immoral situation, but more often than not, Foggy reserved his speeches for retelling the repertoire of stories he loved to share with those who spared him an ear. You, always a listener at heart, and therefore his dedicated audience, were usually in hysterics by the end of his theatrics.

Foggy never just told a story. No, he incorporated gestures, voices and facial expressions that brought the characters - real or not - to life. Karen and Matt had heard every story ten times over, but being the newest addition to the friend group, you took in every detail as if there was going to be an exam.

It was his larger-than-life personality that drew you in, but it was his quiet observations that captivated you. Foggy never used his social prowess to embarrass others - Karen and Matt excluded - only ever making himself the butt of jokes. If he teased you, it was only to tease you out of your shell. His questions were genuine and his gaze, reading your body language and expressions, hung on to every answer you offered him.

The first real conversation you had with him, he asked you about your background.

“So what gods - sorry, Matt, God - above orchestrated for you to be doomed with us as friends?” He asked, curiosity making his sincerity clear.

You told him your abridged life story - including the small role you felt you played, despite it being your own life. Foggy’s smile had waned into a wrinkled line and when you finished he looked at you as if you had just admitted to being from another planet.

“You are the sweetest person I know, with a beautiful heart, and I don’t think you know it. But the rest of us sure do.” His eyes sought yours long enough to ensure you believed his sincerity, then he quickly moved on to throw a jibe at Matt,, and the conversation returned it’s levity. You, however, were left reeling from his compliment.

And absolutely in love.

Doomed, more like. You muse, halting the trip down memory lane before you fell down the well-trodden path of self-doubt and hatred. You have been around long enough to hear stories of the women Foggy had dated, slept with, or fantasized about being with. You didn’t think you made the cut. You had no reason to. Foggy was an extraordinary friend but that didn’t qualify you to wish he did more than friendly things to you.

You focus back in where your eyes had taken the opportunity to stare at Foggy fingering the edges of documents while twirling a pen in his other hand. He settles the pen between his soft, pink lips, tapping it before he bites the cap, completed focused on the phrasing of his task.

A hair falls between his eyes, causing him to wrinkle his nose into an unbearably cute expression.

You send the chair stumbling backwards when you stand, and that focused gaze flies to you.

“I…um..I am…What time is it? I think we should start to head over.” You attempt to clarify.

Foggy removes the writing utensil from his teeth as his eyes analyze your abrupt movement. You feel exposed the longer he stares and start to grow nervous he somehow could hear your wayward thoughts about the dexterity of his fingers.

“Yeah…good call.” Foggy clears his throat. He stands up to gather his things and you step forward to help him.

Handing him a file, his fingers brush the back of your knuckles and your eyes flutter in response.

Cheeks warm despite the cold, you turn from Foggy and set about blowing out all the candles until you’re both left in the dark.

You walk to the door and rest your hand on the doorknob. Turning your wrist, you pull the doorknob out the socket.

Wait.

What?

You glance down at your hand.

“What the hell?” A sense of dread fills you.

“What’s wrong?” Foggy asks, immediately reacting to your alarmed tone.

When you don’t respond, he navigates his way around the desk and chairs in the dark to come to your aid.

You turn back to the door and stare at the vacant hole with consternation until you feel Foggy’s chest brush your left shoulder.

“What happened?”

The weight of the doorknob feels condemning in your palm. Foggy leans down, squinting through the dark. His cheek is inches from yours, his height enshrouding you as he peers at your hands, and any other time your heart would be beating out of your chest.

Well, it was, but for the wrong reason.

“Oh.” He says. “Shit.”

“I have no idea!” You insist before he can even turn his grave expression on you and ask. “I guess the other side of it came loose and just fell off.”

“Well. That’s just fantastic.” Foggy hooks his index in the hole and tugs hard. The door jiggles with his attempts but holds fast.

“So we’re locked in our own office?” you conclude.

Foggy growls in frustration. He stalks back over to the desk, muttering curses to himself.

“Perfect. Just perfect. Of course…worst day of my life…”

Foggy pats his waist down, pulls out his phone, and then hits the first speed dial button.

“Hey, Matt.” He says sharply. “…Yeah, the fucking handle fell off the door.”

Morose, you glance down at the knob still in your palm.

“No, I don’t- Y/N turned the knob and it just fell off!….Yeah, I already did that.”

Foggy sighs, hums in affirmation before his shoulders drop.

“You sure? Yeah…ugh…fine yeah, okay.”

Matt must have asked for the new evidence Foggy was supposed to bring, you assume, as Foggy proceeds to explain the needed information and confirm Matt understood it all.

“Good luck, buddy. Don’t lose.”

Foggy hangs up, ceasing his pacing. His hand runs through his now tangled locks then drops to his waist. He looks at you with resignation.

“Matt says he can handle the case by himself. It’s not a full blown hearing so…he’ll come back as soon as he can. The case has already started so he doesn’t have time to run back here.”

“Oh.” The prickling sensation of tears burns behind your eyes. The last thing you want is to ever be the cause of Foggy’s stress. Hell, you spend most of your time trying to be as valuable to him as possible.

Foggy searches around him until he finds matches. He lights the nearest candle and then sits down behind his desk.

He frowns once he sees you haven’t moved from your tense stance near the entrance.

“Hey.”

Your eyes flit to his face and find Foggy smiling at you with his recognizable optimism. The kind of smile that feels like he’s sharing a secret joke with you. He drags your previous chair around the desk, beside his.

“C’mere and sit back down. We have at least three hours before Matt returns.”

You hum in assent, still clutching the doorknob as you make your way over.

Coming around the desk, Foggy’s hand darts out, shielding your hip from the sharp corner when you almost don’t clear it.

You jump at his fingers against your waist. Foggy jerks back just as quickly, his grimace apparent.

“Sorry! I didn’t want you to run into it. That corner in particular bruises like a bitch.”

You laugh, hoping the airy chuckle doesn’t betray how his fingertips ignited a reaction far from displeased within you.

“I appreciate it. And I assume you’re speaking from experience?” You sit down. Your knee brushes his, tingling with proximity. You’ve never had a reason to sit so close to Foggy before, even in the booths at bars, and without the light, you sense more than see his presence within your personal space.

Foggy snorts. “Yeah, of course. Matt does it all the time.”

“Oh, so you have practice holding his waist too?” You don’t know where this brazen energy arises from, but you blame it on the intimacy of being secluded in the office with Foggy and your only light source being a small flame that smells of cinnamon.

Foggy’s lips split before curving into a smirk. He narrows his eyes.

“Are you accusing me of making a grab at you?”

You shake your head frantically. “No! Sorry, that was stupid. I-“

Foggy laughs, waving your apology away.

“I would hope you think more highly of me to at least buy you dinner first.” He reasons, pursing his mouth into an easy smile.

You bite your lip, eyes widening at the suggestion. Was he serious? Or were you letting your feelings cloud an obvious joke?

“Of course I think highly of you, Foggy.” You say, settling into the chair. You set the doorknob on the desk. Your brow furrows as it reminds you of how Foggy was trapped here with you instead of at the courthouse winning the case he’s worked so hard on.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Seriously, don’t feel bad about the door. This whole shitty place is falling apart.” Foggy gestures vaguely around him. Foggy must have mistaken your silence as guilt. He’s correct in assuming so, but why did he have to read you so damn well?

“No, I know…I just feel bad for you because you deserve to be in that courtroom.”

“Ah, don’t sweat it. Matt’s got it handled. I’m sure they prefer the handsome lawyer down there anyways. Case will go in our favor that way.” He chuckles.

“Handsome?” You frown, not getting the punchline.

His eyes flicker over your face as if to gage how serious you are being.

Foggy shrugs. “Out of the two of us, Matt’s the better lawyer, both in the legal department and looks department.” His half-hearted laugh fails to win you over.

“That isn’t- that’s not true.” You stumble over your words, because it would be foolish to deny the attention the brunet lawyer garners on a consistent basis. However, you weren’t about to accept Matt’s good looks at the cost of denying Foggy’s attractive features either.

Foggy snorts. He shakes his head, hair brushing his shoulders as he does so and you’re overcome with an intense need to make him realize just how important he is to everyone. To you.

“Foggy, you’re incredible to watch in action.”

Foggy’s frown is near comical with his exaggerated pout. You lean in, determined to convince him.

“Foggy, you’re a hell of a good lawyer, too. If Matt is so talented then he wouldn’t partner with someone who wasn’t on his level. The two of you have your own firm. Matt’s not your boss. He’s your equal. That goes for the ‘looks’ department as well. You’re an attractive, generous, compassionate lawyer and it’s a privilege to work with you.”

Foggy’s expression is unreadable as he listens to you rant. His eyes search your face, flitting back and forth with thoughts known only to him. His brow falters slightly and you fear he’s uncomfortable with your impromptu speech.

But eventually, that full mouth of his turns upwards.

Unfortunately, the smile he wears accompanies a glimmer in his eye that makes you lean back into your own chair.

Foggy follows you, invading your breathing space with the heady scent of his aftershave and a hint of shampoo akin to vanilla.

“What other traits do I possess?”

All at once you realize how revealing your compliments are. Blooming crimson, you attempt a verbal retreat that Foggy has no intention of allowing.

“Oh, um…I didn’t-I just mean…”

“C’mon, tell me! Attorney client privilege.” Foggy winks, his grin upheld and only growing bolder as he rests his cheek on his fist, full attention on you now.

Well, you did wish for that.

“Technically, to be your client I would need to pay you first.” You throw out, if only to prolong the inevitable corner of confession he was backing you into.

“Aha! So you do learn a thing or two around this office. I’ll only charge you five bucks.” Foggy retorts easily enough.

“I don’t have money on me, but since you’ve been known to accept fruit baskets, would you accept other forms of payment?”

“What do you have in mind?” Foggy’s grin is downright devious.

Your eyes widen as you effectively have backed yourself into the corner you were trying to avoid.

A nervous laugh bubbles from your racing heart as you shake your head, waving your hand too for good measure.

“Nothing! I’m kidding, Foggy.”

“Blood money? Was it blood money?”

“No?…No, it was a stupid joke.”

“Tell me.” Foggy sits up, his demeanor becoming serious.

“Please?” He whispers.

You chew on your lower lip, trying to swallow down the thundering of your heart as silence permeates the dimly lit atmosphere between you two.

Maybe it’s the influence of the warm fire painting Foggy’s gaze in such a soft, accepting light, as if he already knows what you’re thinking - or is even feeling it too. Maybe it’s the months of holding back the truth from someone you would tell anything to in a heartbeat. Maybe it’s the hope that ultimately outweighs the anxiety that causes you to admit it.

No longer do the candles, blizzard, or darkness feel like a hindrance. Now they feel intimate, cozy, and warm.

Romantic.

“I was gonna say…something super corny like, “just my undying affection.” You feel like an idiot, grimacing with the confession.

Your eyes dare to check Foggy’s expression, knowing he’s probably gonna reel back in aversion.

Instead, Foggy scoffs, shaking his head slightly. “You’re affection? Jeez, now that’s nowhere near corny.” He purses his lips and his hair brushes his cheek as he shakes his head.

“Earning your attention, let alone your affection - damn, I would win a hundred cases for you, guaranteed!”

You want to blame the playful words as an excuse to ignore the sincerity in his tone, but your body reacts before you can, heart leaping with a thrill of joy and your lips begging for more.

“Guaranteed?”

“Nothing drives a man like his unwavering passion for the woman he adores.”

You must look crazed, in the throes of shock as your brain tries to process the meaning behind his words. Foggy adores you? Really?

Your mouth continues to take the lead.

“You mean that?”

Foggy lifts his hand in the distance between you, which is scarce, and hesitates a second before placing his warm hand atop both your hands picking at each other’s fingertips. The weight of his palm and the comfort of his grip squeezes your fretting hands still. You release a soft exhale.

“Y/n, I’ve never been more serious. I’ve adored every detail of yours since you graced my office.”

You don’t know what to say, so you nod.

You keep nodding until it dawns that your feelings are reciprocated, perhaps more than you dared hope for.

And then you’re smiling, beaming, and still nodding, as Foggy brings the hand up from your grasp and cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb over in a silent hello before he presses his lips to your mouth.

You press in, feeling him wholly as mint overwhelms your senses. Your lips move with his, chin lifting as you chase his mouth and he meets you once more, applying pressure before he withdraws, and releases your bottom lip from his teeth.

You can’t see much in the dark anyways, but right now you can’t see a thing. Only spots that accompany the ringing in your ears. You might be light-headed too.

Your dazed silence breaks when Foggy’s whisper begins to escalate.

“Before I have a heart attack…tell me I didn’t screw this up. If I read it wrong and you were just joking-“

“No, no! It’s just…I can’t believe you like me back.” Your laugh is a soft exhale before a sharp intake of breath.

“This isn’t some ‘lights go out and we’re vulnerable in the dark confession.” Foggy says as he cups your face once more.

“I mean every word I say in the dark.” He kisses you again and you welcome his eager affection before he pulls back. You open your eyes just in time for the lights flicker on with a stumbling hum as the building regains power.

“And the light.” Foggy tacks on to his previous statement.

You snort, biting your lip in vain to stop your giddy smile.

“That was pretty fucking cool timing if you ask me.” He says, the same elated grin on his flushed visage.

“That was, I’ll admit.” You laugh. You run your tongue across your lips, savoring the taste of his kiss.

“I wish someone could have witnessed it.” Foggy continues to rave, basking in your growing smile of amusement.

“I did.”

Matt stands in the doorway with a wicked grin.

“Missing something?” He asks. Your eyes flit down to his hand.

The other side of the doorknob.

Matt waltzes over to the desk, grabs the doorknob, then returns to the entry and slides it back into place.

Your frown deepens when he unpockets a screw. Within ten seconds the door is fixed with a good rattle to test it out.

“Lucky thing the case got canceled. You guys would have been stuck in this room all night.” Matt says, passing you both on his way to his office. Presumably to start the next caseload.

Foggy breaks first, swiveling in his chair to jab a finger at Matt’s retreating back.

“You bastard!”

Matt spins around once he’s behind the door of his office. He gives ample time to leave his smirk on display as he closes the door in a slow, dramatic fashion until it clicks with finality.

And with it, a realization of his strange behavior today.

You gasp.

Matt never left the building.

#foggy nelson #foggy nelson fluff #foggy nelson x reader #foggy nelson x you #foggy nelson x y/n #foggy nelson daredevil #foggy nelson fic #foggy nelson one shot #arden's prose

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writeroutoftime · 15 days

Text

marvel

-matt murdock-

Heartbeat - on a lazy day together, you ask for a small peak until Matt’s world

-foggy nelson-

You’re Heart in Exchange for Mine - Foggy has been led to believe it’s the material goods that keep a relationship alive, but you strive to prove to him that all you want is to love him and be loved in return

Feelings Confessed - You like Foggy, Foggy likes you, but neither of you know of the other’s feelings. What could happen when Foggy walks you home from Josie’s one night?

-peter parker-

Not the Same Girl - Before the Blip, Peter would babysit you, but not that he’s back and you’ve grown up, what feelings will come to play?

Little Fall of Rain - Based on ‘A Little Fall of Rain’ from Les Mis

You're Stunning - When Peter takes your picture unexpectedly, he learns how you feel about yourself and tries to change your mind

Speak Now - When Peter is getting married, you just want to go and make sure he’s happy. but what happens when the officiant asks a very pertinent question?

-jack thompson-

By Your Side - “You wanna go save the world with me?”

Undercover Feelings - You and Jack don’t like each other in the slightest. But when an undercover mission throws the two of you together, what will become of your relationship? (aka - undercover enemies to lovers)

We’re Okay - When out on the field, you run into a burning building to save a young child, and all Jack can do is pray you’ll be safe

-steve rogers-

Bail You Out - A midnight call wakes you up, asking you to pick Steve and Bucky up in a less than ideal location

True Gentleman - After a date with Steve, he wants to make sure that you get home safe, but you reassure him that you’ll be alright

-bucky barnes-

A Secret Language - flower shop au - when Bucky stumbles across your little flower shop, you’re enamored. too bad he keeps coming in to buy flowers for his mystery women (using the prompts “you aren’t over her, are you?/not even close”)

-tony stark-

The Scoops Troop - It’s Halloween and you want to do a group costume, but Tony isn’t onboard with the idea

Only Wanna Be With You - It’s yours and Tony’s anniversary but why is he acting so odd?

-druig-

Stop the Tears - Druig finds you crying and can only focus on the pull he feels towards you and taking your tears away

-jack thompson-

13 Days of Halloween - Day Seven - “I picked it out especially with you in mind. You’re hurting my feelings.”

-steve rogers-

“you owe me a kiss”

-bucky barnes-

Lost in Love and Time (Ongoing) - Haunted Mansion AU

Prologue Part One || Prologue Part Two || Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four

-peter parker-

Fools Rush In (Ongoing) - When Peter finds himself claiming to the Avengers that he has a girlfriend, he turns to you for help even though the two of you are class rivals

Chapter One || Chapter Two

-steve rogers-

La La Land (Discontinued) - As a struggling actress in the big city, you aren’t sure how you are going to get your big break. Similarly, starving artist, Steve Rogers, doesn’t know how to move on after a deal gone wrong. What happens when you two meet and learn more about yourselves, love, and the power of dreams than you ever though possible?

Chapter One

#matt murdock x reader #peter parker x reader #steve rogers x reader #foggy nelson x reader #jack thompson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine

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xixxala · 2 years

Text

y/n: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.

Foggy: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?

y/n: Yes!

Matt: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.

#marvel incorrect quotes #daredevil x y/n #daredevil x reader #daredevil incorrect quotes #daredevil x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #foggy nelson #foggy nelson x reader

354 notes · View notes

peterman-spideyparker · 1 year

Text

The Roommate and The Best Friend (College!Matt Murdock x College!Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Long time, no post, guys! I do apologize for going silent on the fic front--I’ve just been so tired lately, I haven’t had the motivation to really edit anything I’ve written. BUT, my sweet baby angels, this is the longest stand alone fic I’ve ever done! It also took forever to edit, lol. I really hope you guys enjoy! :)

Summary: You’ve been Foggy’s best friend since you two could walk. Matt’s been Foggy’s best friend since he moved in at Columbia. After three years at law school all together, you’re all as thick as thieves. When Foggy doesn’t show up one day to a study session, something blossoms between you and Matt that will change the ecosystem of your friendship trio forever.

Warnings: Fluff (friends to lovers, cuteness, cuddles, kisses), angst (shouting, friendship fights, hurt feelings), smut (p in v, protected sex, blowjob, handjob, being cute dorks when a matching set is involved), swearing

Other Characters: College!Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 8.081

“At what point do you think we can officially say Foggy isn’t coming?” you sigh, flipping the page in your notebook and highlighting what is written in accordance to your study system.

Matt lets out a breath through his nose as his fingers move to feel at the braille surface of his watch. “An hour ago?” he smirks, resuming his own work.

“Eh, I guess I should have seen that coming.”

“How so?”

“All boys are the same when they start relationships, especially when they reengage the on-again. Knowing Foggy and Marci, they’re doing some weird sort of sex-study review game.” You shudder at the memory. “You’re lucky you’re blind, Matty. You can’t unsee that.”

“Trust me, I think it’s worse to only hear,” he chuckles.

“Ew, don’t even remind me of the sound!”

Matt just laughs, his fingers sliding across the page.

“Hey, get back to studying, Chuckles,” you chastise, smiling big yourself as you move back to your notes. “Rule 24 of Federal Civil Procedure won’t learn itself.”

“Rule 24. Intervention. Intervention of Right: On a timely motion, the court must permit anyone to intervene who—.”

“Shut up,” you scoff playfully, hitting his shin underneath the table. “Show off.”

You go back and forth, quizzing one another on the rules of civil procedure in the unit, adjusting in the library chairs until you’re leaning shoulder to shoulder going over material, Matt having abandoned his braille textbooks to listen to you read to him.

“You have a really beautiful voice, you know that?” Matt hums, his voice dipping into a velvety timbre.

“You’re just lazy,” you chuckle as you tilt your head and gaze over at him. “Getting me to do all the work.”

“Delegating,” he attempts.

“Laziness,” you counter.

“You do better when do explain things. You’ve said so yourself. And I’m a great listener.”

You purse your lips and let out a little sigh. “I do do better when I talk out loud,” you admit.

“You also always find your answer when you do.”

“And I do like talking to you.”

“I rest my case,” he says with a satisfied smile.

“Asshole.”

You laugh in your little secluded spot in the library, your shoulders shaking against one another’s as you do. You tilt your head to face him, Matt doing the same thing at the same time, his dark rectangular glasses long abandoned, letting you look into the honey hazel galaxy of his irises.

“Hey,” he whispers, his voice making a warmth spread all over your body.

“Hey yourself, Murdock,” you counter.

“You’re gonna be a really great lawyer, you know that?”

You feel yourself blush. If it’s from the sentiment of his words, the pitch that he says it, or your proximity, you’ll never know. Maybe it’s all three. You’re just glad he can’t see the full extent of how his words make you feel.

“Thanks, Matty. You’re gonna be great, too. I pity whoever will have to go against you in court.”

“You are so extraordinary, (Y/N),” he whispers, his thumb and forefinger taking ahold of your chin, the space between the two of you smaller than you remember.

“So are you,” you breathe.

“(Y/N), I—."

“I think we’re just getting tired,” you breathe as his lips hover centimeters from yours.

“No, I think we’re picking up on something that’s been here for a bit,” he counters, his voice at such a low pitch it does things to the heart in your chest and the heart between your legs.

But this is Matt you’re talking about. He’s your friend. He’s Foggy’s friend, his roommate. Sure, people can bond with their roommates, but it was almost like something out of a buddy-comedy with what happened with those two, and it was instantaneous.

You shuffle and maneuver around everyone in the hallway, moving furniture and supplies into their homes for the next year as you track down the number that is your best friend’s new address.

“Alright, Foghorn, boxes have been unpacked, and liquor needs to be poured!” you call as you glide through the entryway, the door left ajar. When you enter, you don’t see anyone in sight. Did you get the wrong number? No, that’s not it: unless someone else has some interest in really niche bands and the same quilt his mother knit him for Christmas in undergrad, you’re definitely in the right place. The social butterfly of a teddy bear man probably bonding with his roommate or something.

Just as you flop down on what his definitely Foggy’s bed, you hear his laugh and the tapping of something growing closer to the dorm.

“ . . . and I said, ‘No, Mom and Dad. I love you guys, but I don’t want to be a butcher, I want to be a lawyer,” Foggy recalls his infamous butcher story, his words becoming clear as they enter.

“Not the butcher story!” you interrupt, sitting right back up like a vampire in its casket, watching Foggy enter with a handsome man next to him, his brown hair floppy and shiny, dark rectangular glasses perched on his nose and a white cane in the hand that isn’t holding his coffee. “You got coffee without me? Rude.”

“Jesus, (Y/N)!” Foggy hisses, almost slipping his to go cup of coffee in the process.

“Sounds like a pretty famous tale,” the man next to him says with an amused smirk pulling across some particularly pouty lips. Really pretty pouty lips.

“Matt, this is (Y/N), my best friend since toddledom,” Foggy introduces, licking some of the roast that escaped the sip hole of the lid. “(Y/N), this is my roommate, Matt. His dad was Battlin’ Jack Murdock.”

Getting up, you move over to in front of where he stands by Foggy, watching how he adjusts the cane in his grip to under his arm, extending his hand just enough where it looks expectant for yours.

“It’s nice to meet you, Matt,” you tell him with a soft smile.

“Likewise,” he says with a little nod.

“I have to say, my gram was a big fan of your dad. She loved watching his matches.” He acknowledges your comment with a nod of his head and a little, soft smile. “You know, you lucked out on your roommate. Foggy’s the best friend you could ever ask for. You might need to get some earplugs, though, he snores like a Foghorn.”

“Do not!” Foggy interjects.

“He’s still in phase one denial of the whole thing. Really, sometimes, I think he could wake the dead with that sound.”

Matt’s lips curl into an incredibly large smile with a warm laugh that matches the expression.

And, well, the rest his history, with the three of you being thick as thieves since that day.

“This can’t happen,” you breathe, swallowing hard while your head and heart race a million miles a minute. “Foggy is my best friend—he’s your best friend. We can’t.”

“I know,” he breathes. “That doesn’t mean I want to, though. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you want to, too.” He pushes some hair that has fallen out of your clip behind your ear. “Would it . . . Would it really be the worst thing?”

Your eyes flick down to his lips and how is tongue peeks out ever so slightly to moisten the plush skin before back up to his honey hazel eyes and their off-center gaze, his face softer and more vulnerable without the dark specks resting on his nose.

“This kind of stuff can ruin friendships. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to hurt Foggy.”

“I don’t want any of that either. But I also know that I don’t want to go another moment without kissing you.”

It’s unclear if you’re the one that closes the gap between you or if it’s Matt, but before you know it, you’re kissing in your little corner of the library. His lips are as soft as they look, perhaps even more so, and his aftershave floods your nose—crisp and fresh, a subtle blend of sandalwood, vanilla, and coffee pulling you closer and closer into him. His large hands slide down the sides of your body, squeezing your waist, making you moan into his mouth. The sound encourages him to lift you up, placing you so you straddle one of his legs. As the kiss grows more heated, your fingers running through his incredibly soft hair, you pull back, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Are you okay?” Matt asks softly, his hands running up and down your body soothingly.

“Extremely,” you breathe with a bright smile.

Matt smiles so bright he could outshine the sun, lines of happiness etching themselves into the skin by his eyes as he leans back in for a kiss. His hands continue to move mindlessly along your waist and your back, his fingers grazing the hem of your shirt and sneaking underneath the soft fabric, making goosebumps break out over your body with a shudder.

“Isn’t it a bit of a cliché to do that in the library, Matthew?” you whisper in his ear as he trails wet kisses along your neck, your entire body tingling at your position and the way he moves against your body.

“Only if we get caught,” he smirks, moving his face back so it’s focused in your direction.

“I’m taking that as code for you can attest to that from experience?”

“It was a close call, never a red-handed situation.”

“Mm, you true gentleman.”

You watch as Matt’s brows shoot up and furrow, some of the energy leaving him as his demeanor beings to change. “Do you not want to? We don’t have to. I—.”

“I want to, Matt,” you tell him, your cheeks burning hot at your own admission. “Do you?”

“I do. I wouldn’t have kissed you like that if I didn’t want to. Unfortunately, I didn’t think it through all the way—we can’t go back to my dorm. Foggy is probably there.”

“We could go back to mine?” you suggest, your heart now fully racing like a marathon runner. “I have a dingle.”

“Dingle?” Matt repeats with furrowed eyebrows and pouty lips.

“A double that’s now a single since my roommate dropped out.”

“A dingle.”

“A dingle, yeah.”

Matt brings his lips back to your, his kisses needily and tenderly in your isolated corner of the library.

“So, is that a yes, Murdock?”

The wicked grin that pulls as his lips tell you everything you need to know, and he doesn’t even bothering to use his cane as you lead him to your dorm on campus.

As soon as the door to your place is closed, your lips reattach and your hands work in a frenzy against one another’s bodies, desperately trying to get the clothes off of one another. Your hands slide over his muscular arms and torso until they are buried in his hair, the only thought in your brain is that you need to get him deeper and closer—a thought that continues on loop for the time you’re together.

The feeling of Matt’s lips on yours is made so much better after the orgasms that he has pulled from your body over and over during the night, but you’ll be damned if he stops now. A thin sheen of sweat covers your bodies as Matt continues to rut into you, one hand on your waist while the other supports his body weight on the mattress, kissing your shoulders and neck while his little wooden crucifix swings back and forth around his neck.

“Matt,” you groan before you pull him up for a kiss, his hair an absolute disheveled mess. It’s sloppy and filled with need, but damn if it isn’t absolutely impeccable.

“Do you have one more in there for me, angel?” he pants as he moves his kisses across your cheek to the sweet spot of your neck. “Come on, angel, you can cum one more time, can’t you?” All you can do is whimper as Matt continues to wind up that special knot in your stomach. “You’re doing so good. One more, I promise. Just one more.”

Hiking up your legs around his waist, you make sure the Matt’s hips stay as close to yours as possible, selfishly letting him rub up against your swollen, overstimulated clit, and ensuring that he’s nice and deep in you. The little grunts and groans that fall from Matt’s lips are angelic, the parted, plush lips and scrunched look of bliss on his face making your heart race more than it already is from exertion.

“Matty,” you whine. “Fuck!”

“Doin’ good, angel. Fuck, so good.”

Biting your lip and closing your eyes, you let the feeling wash over you while you dig your fingers into his toned muscles.

“I’m gonna . . . I—.”

“M-Me too,” he moans, dropping to his forearm to come closer to you as you try to hold your legs back higher. The newfound closeness and the new position let’s Matt reach a new angle, and it’s enough for the both of you to fall over the edge together. Matt does his best to try and fuck you through both of your orgasms, but it’s too much, and he stills, his hand running all over your body as he dips his head and presses soft kisses to your neck and lips. You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls out, feeling hollow without him in you, the drag of his length along your walls enticing. Tying up the condom, he tosses it in the trash while you get up and pad over to the bathroom. When you get back, you see him waiting with a dopey smile on his face, the sheets draping over his hips like some kind of adonis. When you get close enough, he pulls back your sheets and you happily slide in, snuggling close as he wraps an arm around you.

“You’re good at that,” you hum. “I think you’d gold medal.”

Matt laughs as his fingers trace patterns into your skin. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“We can’t go back from that, you know,” you say softly.

“Who says I want to go back from it?” He shifts his head down in an effort to look at your face. You look back at him with furrowed brows. “I want to be more, (Y/N).”

“Matt,” you start. “I meant what I said. I don’t want to lose you or Foggy. If we do this and it doesn’t work . . . I lose the two most important people in my life.”

“I swear to you, (Y/N), you won’t lose either of us.”

You snuggle down on him, listening to his heartbeat before you peck a quick kiss to his chest. “I want more, too.”

“Then we’ll figure it out. I promise.” Matt runs a soothing hand up and down the line of your back.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispers.

You let out a little sigh. “Just that I thought I was supposed to be wined and dined before I was sixty-nine’d.”

Matt lets out a chuckle that radiates throughout your body. “We didn’t—.”

Before he can finish, you tilt your head up to look at his face, witnessing the moment that it clicks in his brain. “Classy,” he laughs.

“I’m just saying . . .”

“I can order pizza? I just don’t think I can do booze to go.”

“Who says you need to bring the booze?” Rolling over, you reach into the bottom drawer of your nightstand and pull out a bottle of wine. “From the special movie night reserve.”

Matt’s lips turn into a big smile, making adorable lines appear again at the corners of he eyes as he leans forward for another kiss, making you loose grip on your bottle of wine. He catches it with ease, placing it to the side of the bed as he chases your lips, and the way he captures your body beneath his lets you know that he doesn’t plan for the night to end any time soon.

Your leg bounces and your heart races as your eyes keep flicking towards the clock on the desk, watching the second hand move painfully slow across the timepiece as you await Matt’s arrival like you do several times a week, except this time, you have a surprise for him. Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you hear a gentle knock at the door. There’s no special pattern to it, but the pressure and rhythm lets you know that Matt is on the other side. His handsome smile greets you when you swing your door open.

“Hey,” you smile as Matt enters your dorm, his bag sliding off his broad shoulders to the ground, cane leaning up against the wall, and glasses coming off of his face as he toes off his shoes.

“Hey yourself,” he hums as his plush lips curl upward into a smile, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. The way his tongue slides into your mouth sends goosebumps all throughout your body; if anyone else tried to kiss you like this, you would consider it absolutely gross. But the way Matt does is? That’s how a man kisses—a man that’s on the cover of a romance novel that is dominant but tender, passionate yet gentle. A shudder of pleasure moves through you like shockwaves as he moves his hands up from your waist and up to your neck, helping him set the pace and motions of the kiss.

“I have a surprise for you,” you whisper when he finally pulls back, getting the sentence out just before he begins to eagerly move back in.

His eyebrows quirk up. “Do you, now?” Cocky bastard.

“I do. Now, sit on the bed.”

With a gentle push on his shoulder, he falls back on the mattress, making him coo in delight as he bounces slightly and causes the springs to squeak. With a little exhale to pump yourself up, you pull off your shirt and slide down your jeans, standing in nothing but your underwear.

“You know I can’t see it, angel,” Matt says with a tilt of his head. “But I do like what I just heard.”

“You don’t need to see it to appreciate it, Matty,” you inform, taking a step forward, taking his hands in yours and placing them on your shoulders. “Now, feel.”

This fingers glide over the soft lace that flutters off of the straps, down to the smooth mesh cups, and over the sides, tracing the lace and the pseudo-boning that decorate the bustier. His fingertips trace between the valley of your breasts, feeling a little criss-cross pattern that adorns the fabric before gliding his fingers down the the mesh panties and feeling the same soft lace that decorated it. A tiny moan escapes your lips when he brushes his fingers down between your legs, his digits lingering before they come to rest on your hips.

“You got a matching set for me?” he asks, his expression and tone one that you can’t quite read.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, Murdock, it’s from Target,” you hum as his hands trace the hemline of your panties. “But yeah. I thought you’d like the textures being consistent. And, I could afford it, so, that was a perk.”

“You got lingerie for me,” he smirks, his lopsided grin telling you that you’ve only inflated his ego. “That’s so—.” His sentence his halted when his fingers trail to the back of the underwear, just below the small of your back. “Angel, I think you’re missing part of these panties.”

Now it’s your turn to smirk. “Nope,” you tell him, popping the ‘p’. “It’s got a little keyhole back. It’s not quite easy access, but—mm, Matty.”

“I say, it gives me a good idea,” he says as one hand squeezes the flesh of your ass as the fingers on the other slip into the keyhole and tease you. Pulling you back onto the bed with him, you straddle him as you mimic the kind of kiss he greeted you with upon arriving. Moans and puckering quickly fill the room as you grind your hips on his jeans, opting to tease him through his light layers before attempting to shed them.

“You are such a fucking tease,” he murmurs in between kisses.

“Hi pot, it’s kettle,” you quip as you mark up his neck before pulling off his shirt. If you didn’t right this second, you’d never hear the end of it.

“Objection—badgering!”

“Overruled.”

With a light shove, you push him down so you are now fully on top of him, kissing all over his beautiful chest and soft skin as you grind into him.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“You’ve helped me perfect my technique,” you hum into his skin, moving your kisses back up to his neck and lips. “Gotta get you nice and hard for me, Matty.”

As you continue to grind down on him, his hands guide your hips, setting the pace and pressure just so in an effort to make you both feel good. When his hands begin to travel up on your body along the line of your spine, you gently take hold of them and bring them back down.

“I got the matching set for you—it’s staying on during this entire thing,” you smirk, dragging his fingers along the mesh and lace of your panties. “Now, I can’t say the same thing about these jeans.”

Moving off of him, you undo his belt and pants, shimmying off the denim with some help from his hands, allowing you to take hold of his painfully hard cock, pumping it in your hand before you bend down, your knees digging into the thin mattress so you can start to take him in your mouth.

“(Y/N),” he moans. “Fuck . . . So nice, baby.”

“Mm,” you giggle, dragging your lips back and forth along his length, licking him here and there. “Your cock is so pretty, Matty. I love putting it in my mouth.” Slowly going down on his length, you wiggle your head side to side lightly until you’re all the way down on his length with your cheeks hollowed out. You look up at him through your lashes, feeling a sense of pride at how is face is contorted in pleasure and how long his lashes look resting on his cheeks. Moving off of him, you gasp and catch your breath, hungrily kissing up his length while one of his hands cradle the side of your face. His hand doesn’t set a pace as you bob your head, repeatedly taking his thick cock into your mouth over and over, but rather as a silent show of encouragement and affection as you work him. Careful to not get too lost in it all with Matt in your mouth, you reluctantly pull off, leaving soft pecks all the way up his body until you meet his lips.

“Are you ready to fuck me with my panties on, Matty?” you coo.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he murmurs with his lips against your. Taking you by surprise, he quickly grabs you by your hips and flips your positions, making you giggle and bring his lips back to yours for a deep kiss. Like a rehearsed routine, he extends his arm to the side and opens your nightstand drawer, rummaging around for the box of condoms you keep there. “Angel,” he pants, “I hate to break it to you, but there are no more condoms in this box.”

“What?” you say practically whining as you adjust your position under Matt, taking the investigation into your own hands. Just as Matt said, the box of contraceptives is completely empty. This time, you do whine. “No!”

“I told you.”

“I could have sworn I had plenty.”

“You know what it was?” he says, something clicking in his brain. “Moot court championship.”

Thinking back to a couple of weeks ago, you remember exactly how you celebrated the travel team winning your championship over Yale—you and Matt being the two that secured the victory, which only provided extra cause to celebrate.

“Damn, you’re right,” you sigh.

“I could always run out and get some more? I’d be quick.”

“Just what every girl wants to hear,” you joke, only for Matt to roll his eyes, licking his lips and tilting his head back in playful annoyance. Damn, he’s got a beautiful neck. “No, Matty. I don’t want you going out this late.

“It’s not too late, sweetheart.”

“I’d be worried about you going out in the dark.”

“That’s sweet—you worry about me.” Nothing in his words are condescending—they’re filled with pure affection. “Trust me, (Y/N). I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”

“I still don’t like the idea of you going out.”

Matt kisses your forehead before resting his on yours. “I have an idea, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” you say, knowing immediately where he is going with his sentence.

“Well, since you don’t want me to go out and get some more and I really, really need to be inside the smart and talented woman that bought a matching set for me, we’re in a pickle.”

You let out a huff, your hands sliding down Matt’s furry arms.

“Foggy isn’t there?” you check.

“Out with Marci.”

“And you’re sure there’s no way he’d be back?”

“I can say it’s highly likely he won’t be back. Even if he does—.”

“Matt—.”

“Even if he does,” he repeats. “He’s gonna leave almost immediately because his roommate is having sex.”

“And if he asks with who after? Actually, better yet, what if he tries to come and hang out with me?”

“Tell him you’re out shopping. You and I both know that while he’s a man of unique fashion, he treats shopping like a mission. Trust me, that should work.”

You look up at him, licking your lips in hesitation before you pull him down for a kiss. “Okay. But first . . .” Maneuvering him on the two pushed together mattresses of your dingle so you’re on top, you run your hands down his body, wrapping your digits around his rock hard length and pumping him a few times. “You’re not going anywhere with a boner that big.”

“Matt,” you breathe as he glides into me so incredibly effortlessly, hitting deep over and over. “Oh God, Matt.”

“Angel,” he grunts, a delicious blush spreading up and across his chest and neck. “Fuck, I needed you.”

“You’ve got me,” you smile, taking one of his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together while he thrusts into you. “Mm, you’ve got me, Matty. I’m yours. Only yours. ’m not going anywhere.”

The softest smile spreads across his features when he rests his forehead on yours. “My girl,” he whispers before bringing his lips to yours.

Dipping his lips to your neck, his holds your hips up so your back arches slightly off of the bed while he thrusts into you.

“Matty,” you whimper. “I lo—mm! Matt!”

Matt places wet kisses all over your chest and neck before he brings his lips back to yours.

“So perfect,” he mutters in between kisses, and it’s then that you hear the twist and jiggle of the doorknob.

Matt abruptly breaks your embrace, frantically moving to cover your body with his, and you curl inward and down to the mattress, facing the wall so Foggy won’t be able to see your face.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Foggy says, and you can hear his hurried movements to grab what he needs. “Inopportune timing, I know, but Marci invited me on a weekend getaway, and I need some things.”

“Just hurry,” Matt urges him, and you can tell that the rapid way that his chest rises and falls isn’t from your interrupted exertion. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, I am out of—,” Foggy starts, but he doesn’t finish his sentence. “Those are (Y/N)’s shoes.”

“What would her shoes be doing in our room, Foggy? She can’t just leave them places —she kind of needs them. Besides, I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

You hear Foggy’s bag fall to the floor with a thud.

Shit.

“Matt, who’s with you?”

“Foggy—.”

“You know, I think I might just give (Y/N) a call. Check up on her.”

“Fog—.”

“Wait,” you sigh, closing your eyes in distress and defeat as you break your silence. Adjusting from under Matt, you turn to look at your friend. The look of pure betrayal and hurt is one that will haunt you for the rest of your life. But what’s even scarier, is how quickly the hurt in his eyes turns to pure, red-hot anger.

“Get away from them!” Foggy shouts, pulling Matt off the bed, Matt barely having enough time to react and keep his sheets around his hips. “Don’t you dare touch them!” You hop down from the mattress, standing between the two best friends and roommates, sticking your arms out to create extra distance in the tiny dorm so Foggy doesn’t absolutely jump Matt.

“Stop it!” you urge.

“I can’t believe you!” Foggy continues.

“Foggy, believe me, we didn’t mean for this to happen, it just did—,” Matt tries.

“You know how much they mean to me, and you just decided to ignore it and drop your pants for a quick fuck—!”

“Hey, whoa, out of line, Foggy!” you interrupt. “Don’t put this on Matt like that, we both—.”

“I’m not talking to him, I’m talking to you!” he clarifies. “You know that Matt is my best friend, and you go and do this? How could you? I can’t believe you! After all the things I’ve told you, about how his is with women—.”

“Hey!”

“—how could you be so careless and reckless?”

“Excuse me—.”

“I thought you were smarter than this! I can’t believe you!”

“Foggy—.”

“I can’t even look at you. Just get out of here!”

Tears burn at my lash line as I let his words absorb into me.

“Get out!” he repeats, the level and tone of his voice something I am thoroughly unused to. “I never want to see you again.”

You would’ve rather he just sent an open-faced slap across your face. His words and his tone cut you like a knife and are worse than any other pain you have or could ever experience. Mixed with his glare more than confirm that my best and oldest friendship has now been severed in half with no chance of reconciliation.

“Fog—,” Matt starts quietly, breaking the deathly silence in the room.

“I’m going,” you say after a moment, grabbing the clothes you can find. You don’t really care that they are Matt’s sweats—you just want to get out as fast as you can. Throwing them on and grabbing your bag, you begin to rush out of the room, only for Matt to take a few steps out to follow you.

“(Y/N)—,” he says softly, his beautiful hazel eyes desperately trying to focus on your face as his tongue darts out ever so slightly on his lips.

“I’ll see you later, Matty,” you tell him with a kiss to his cheek, as he holds your hand feet away from his door in the empty hallway.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispers, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

You squeeze it back. “No. It won’t.”

“How mad is he still?” you ask quietly as lie with Matt in bed, unable to stand the silence in the room that allows your thoughts to run wild, ramping up your anxiety over the friendship that you lost. Foggy was true to his words when he said he never wanted to see you again—he has cut you off cold in every way imaginable, from changing his route from dorm to class, to finding a new coffee shop and time to eat in the mess hall, to changing his seat in class to the other side of the room, and even going as far as to request a new partner for a project, erasing every possible venue where you could interact.

“He’s still really upset about it all,” Matt sighs. “He’s talking to me. It’s not exactly the same degree as it was, but it’s enough where we are moving back to what we were. It’s still awkward sometimes, though.”

“Does he know that we’re still together?”

“He does.” Matt pauses for a long while, his arm rubbing up and down your arm as if he’s listening to your silent question that screams through the dorm room. “We don’t talk about relationships, though.”

You let your breath hitch in your chest while your jaw tightens, a fresh wave of guilt that you haven’t felt in a long time washing over you. “I’m sorry that I’ve made things weird between you guys,” you whisper on the verge of tears.

“It’s not your fault, (Y/N).”

You snuggle down into his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. “Sure as hell feels like it.”

“He’ll move past it. It’s just gonna take time. Before you know it, it’ll be back to how it was.”

“It won’t be the same, Matt. You know that it won’t. Especially after all these months . . . it’s dead and gone and buried.”

“It will be okay, (Y/N).” When you don’t respond, Matt moves his hands down your body and situates you so you’re sitting on top of him, the covers pooling around your waist and leaving you exposed to the cold winter air that seeps in through the old windows of the dorm. “I promise you, (Y/N), that it will all be okay. And you know how I know? You and Foggy have the biggest hearts of everyone I know. There’s so much love in there, and there’s so much love that you have for one another. So when I tell you that it’s going to be okay, it will be okay.”

You give him a small smile, leaning down and taking his face in your hands, giving him a soft and sweet kiss.

“Thanks, Matt,” you whisper, brushing his hair off of his forehead.

“Hey, I know what will get that smile to grow.” With his hands on your hips, he begins to rock you back and forth along his leg, holding you down, placing just the right amount of pressure down on your hips to create the friction that you need between your legs.

“Dick,” you chuckle as he guides you along his strong, muscular leg.

“You gotta give him a minute before it’s good for either of us,” he hums, only making you laugh more. “But I got you to smile.”

“You always make me smile, Matty.”

“Ditto, angel.”

Your room fills with the slick sound of your core against his leg and your heavy breathing, the sounds only getting louder as your pace increases.

“Right there,” you breathe as he guides your hips on his thigh, soaking the skin that’s there and creating a mess between your legs. “Fuck, Matty. It’s so fucking good, baby.”

“Grab a condom, angel,” he moans. “Fuck, I gotta get in you soon. Need you, angel.”

Twisting around quickly, you go to reach for the box in your nightstand. However, you twist too quick, losing your balance and teetering off of Matt’s thigh, crashing down on the concrete floor of your dorm, your arm breaking the fall. You groan in pain, muffling the sound by keeping your mouth shut as it tries to escape your lungs, and you hold onto your forearm, a throbbing pain radiating from deep down.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Matt asks you as he gets out of the bed and helps you up.

“Fine,” you grit through your teeth. “It’s fine.”

“It doesn’t sound fine.” You wince when his hand grazes your arm. “(Y/N)—.”

“I’m okay. I just whacked my arm real good.”

“It sounded like more than that. Take the word of a blind man with really good hearing. It’s more than a whack.”

“Matty, it’s okay.”

“You really should get it checked out. It might be broken.”

“It’s not broken, Matt, trust me. Nothing Advil and ice can’t fix.”

“Sweetheart, please. That way, we can know for sure.”

“Matty—.”

“I’ll foot the bill.”

“It’s not about money, I—.”

“Go for me. It’ll make me feel better to know that a medical professional says you’re fine,” he continues. “Please, angel.”

You let out a sigh, taking in how concerned he is and how soft his features are.

“You’re gonna have to help me get dressed,” you concede.

“It’s gonna be a while,” you tell Matt as you sit back down next to him in the waiting room.

“But the forms are filled out,” he says with a little smirk. “One step down.”

“I’m telling you, Matt, it’s probably nothing.”

“And then you can rub it in my face. But at least I’ll feel better knowing you’re all right.”

“Yeah, but you’ll have an uncomfortably sore back.”

“C’mere,” he whispers, having you adjust and snuggle into his chest as you sit in the stiff, flat seats. “I always feel better when you’re on me—it’ll cancel out the shitty chairs.”

You chuckle softly, finding the sweet spot that you love to curl into. “You’re a good pillow, you know that?”

“You might have told me once or twice before.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head while he throws his coat over you like a blanket. The motion immediately brings the sleep creeping at the edge of your consciousness to the forefront, slowly taking over. “Try and sleep, angel. I’ll wake you up when they call.”

“No sleep til Brooklyn,” you smile.

“You’re hilarious,” he sighs, lightly resting his head on yours. “You still need to sleep. You were up late studying for your last final, got, what, maybe three hours of sleep? And you’ve been going all day. I’ll wake you up when they want to take you back, I promise.”

You yawn wide and snuggle into him, closing your eyes and feeling just how heavy they are. “Kay, Matty. Love you.”

You feel his hand slip into yours on on good arm. “Love you, too, angel.”

When you feel Matt gently shake you awake, you’re sure you must have only closed your eyes for a short while, but when Matt helps me up, your watch tells you that it’s several hours later.

“Want help, angel?” he asks as you slide his jacket back over to him.

“I’ve got it, Matty,” you hum, giving his lips a quick peck. “Besides, I got to prove to you that it’s all fine.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, giving the hand on your good arm a squeeze. “See you soon.”

After he listens to you get led back, Matt tunes into the orchestra of the waiting room, listening to anything and everything for a long while before something catches him off guard.

“What happened?” a familiar voice rings in Matt’s ears in the quieting ER.

“Foggy? What are you doing here?” Matt asks, standing up.

“Marci was visiting her cousin that had a baby. She saw you guys come in, said that something looked wrong.”

“(Y/N) hurt her arm. She didn’t want to come, but she was in a lot of pain. I almost had to drag her here.”

“What happened? How’d she hurt it?”

“She was trying to reach for something and overestimated the stretch. She fell off the mattress and landed hard on her arm.”

“Is it broken?” Foggy asks as he sits in your empty seat.

“I think it is,” Matt sighs, mirroring his friend’s movements. “She’s convinced she’s fine, though.”

“Of course she thinks she’s fine. She never wants to admit when she’s hurt. It’s like when she gets a cold, it’s always just—.

“Allergies’,” Matt finishes with a smirk. “Yeah. You know, she got a really bad cold about a month ago, and she would swear a blue streak that she was okay. I had to keep a bag of lozenges in my bag with a to-go Tylenol so when her fever spiked, I could give her some with some water or get her a tea from the coffee cart. I don’t know how she muscled through it. It was really bad.”

He can hear how his friend turns to look at him. “You really care about her, huh?”

“I love her, Foggy,” Matt tells him. “When I was with Elektra, I thought that was love. But being with (Y/N) . . . I know she’ll always be there. She makes me better. She helps me be who I want to be. And I’d do absolutely anything for her. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.” He tilts his head to his friend. “You know she didn’t want to date me at first? She was afraid it’d ruin our friendship, but she was more worried about how you would take it. She didn’t want to hurt your feelings. After everything . . . Fog, (Y/N)’s absolutely torn up about it.”

“You know, I’ve thought a lot about what I said to her and how I said it,” Foggy starts. “The look on her face . . . The worst thing about it all is that when I said those words, I wanted them to hurt her, and I did exactly that, and I felt good that I did. She looked so broken. By the time I wanted to try and talk to her, I burned that bridge so much I couldn’t reach her. I feel like the biggest piece of shit that there is.”

“If I know anything, it’s that (Y/N) loves you, and you and your friendship means the world to her. That bridge isn’t gone. If anything . . . The map was lost. And just because the map is lost doesn’t mean that the path over that bridge is gone for good.”

“You think so?” Foggy asks hesitantly.

“I know so. And if I know you and (Y/N) even a fraction of how well I do, things will be okay.”

“Thanks, Matt.”

“I’m just telling you the truth, man.”

As they talk in the waiting room, everything starts to feel like it used to—the ease, the comfort, the flow of conversation. After about ninety minutes, Foggy declares a quest for coffee, groaning as he stands, bemoaning just how uncomfortable the ER seats are. Shortly after Foggy disappears, Matt hears your heartbeat grow closer to the double doors you went through, the nurse giving you a list of care instructions. Matt smirks to himself while he can, taking some pride in the fact that he convinced you to get some help and prevent it from becoming worse, but willing to play none the wiser for when you come out.

“I’m not saying that you were right, only that I underestimated the severity,” you sigh as you meet Matt in the waiting room.

“What was it?” Matt asks, leaning in to kiss your cheek, but you wince when his hand is on your arm. “(Y/N), this feels like a cast.”

“Well, yes, it is. My radius and ulna are broken. But I was right, I’m fine. I’ll survive.”

“You are absolutely fit to be a lawyer,” he chuckles, kissing you once more. “When can the cast come off?”

“It’ll be off just in time for the start of the semester. No kinky sex stuff, though.”

“I’m sure we can find some kinky stuff to do that won’t hurt it. Trust me, I can get very creative.”

You laugh as he leans in for a kiss, your lips still turned into a smile as you embrace. When you pull back, you see Foggy approaching with a coffee travel tray. You immediately dip your head and avoid looking at him, unable to fight the feeling of tears that instantly bloom in your chest.

“You still like cinnamon in your coffee, right?” Foggy asks, making you tilt your head up to look at him, his other hand extending the hot cup to you.

“Two sugars?” you ask softly.

“No cream,” he says with a little smile.

Taking it with your good hand, you let the cup warm you up. “Thanks, Foggy.”

“I’ll hail a taxi for us,” Matt says, pressing a kiss into your hair and then patting Foggy on the shoulder, leaving nothing but thick air between you and the person you’ve known your whole life.

“Listen, (Y/N)—.”

“I’m sorry, Foggy,” you blurt, unable to contain it. “With Matt, we just kissed, and I didn’t want to stop kissing him, but I really didn’t want to hurt you. It was head and heart and I just froze, and I lost my best friend because of it. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about, (Y/N),” Foggy says softly, looking like he just saw a puppy get kicked. “I thoroughly overreacted. I should have been happy that my two friends were together and happy. Instead, I turned into a big brother and treated both of you like you didn’t know what you’re doing. I dunno . . . I guess I had just wished you would’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want you to be mad. And the longer I waited, well, it felt like I couldn’t tell you,” you tell him. “I’m so sorry.”

“You love him?” is all that Foggy asks.

“I really do,” you nod. “He loves me, too. He hasn’t said it, but I just have a feeling, you know?”

“Something tells me that he does, too.” His brows furrow in concern. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, Fog. Do you forgive me?”

“I’d wrap you in a big hug as a silent ‘You bet your bottom, I do’, but then I’d hurt your arm even more than it already is.”

“You still can,” you say with a small smile. “I’m a tough cookie. I can handle it.”

“How about when the two of you aren’t holding hot beverages?” Matt interjects as he reapproaches you.

“Attention to detail—that’s why you’ll be an excellent lawyer,” Foggy teases.

“Thanks, man,” Matt tells him, putting his jacket around your shoulders. “Good to go, angel?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you hum.

“I say let’s go to Josie’s. Drinks on me,” Foggy says as you move to the cab. “I’ve got my best friends back—if that isn’t cause for celebration, I don’t know what is.

“You think we’ll have time?” Matt asks, feeling at his watch as you guide him into the taxi.

“I’m sure she’d keep the bar open just a little longer for her favorite patrons and retainered legal council.”

“None of us are lawyers yet, Fog,” you chuckle as Foggy tells the cabbie the address for the bar.

“But we will be after we pass the Bar, and once we are, we’ll be her lawyers. Bingo, bango, bongo. She’ll let us have a tab and everything.”

“Dreaming big, aren’t you?” Matt laughs.

“Oh yeah, once we get that tab, we’ll be able to take over the world.”

“How about save the world?” you offer.

“Matt’s big humanitarian heart has gotten to you, I see.”

“C’mon, Fog. Who better to stick up for the little guys than three little guys from the Kitchen?”

“You make a good point. But I do counter—big office space with nice big windows and a view.”

“Well, a big office space would be nice. Windows and a view isn’t a deal breaker for me,” Matt smirks.

“We’ve got a real comedian over here.”

“All I’m saying is that if we’re helping people, does it really matter what the space is like?”

“Well, it’d be nice to have walls, floors, WiFi—ooh, no lead paint . . .”

“Okay, the space matters a little bit,” Matt and Foggy laugh as the cab comes to a halt, Matt beating you to the punch and paying the driver before you can unzip your bag.

“Regardless of its size, the space has to be in the Kitchen,” you settle. “If we’re gonna help the people, we need to be with the people.”

“Amen,” Foggy agrees, followed by Matt’s, “Here, here!” as we walk in.

“Sounds like we’ve got a future to plan,” you smile as you sit between them at the bar.

“Josie—the eel, please!” Foggy asks. “And several napkins: I’ve got some designing to do.”

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