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guys my friend sent me the toaster clip i am finally fed

I ADORE YOU!!!!!

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Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 3.6k+ Warnings: swearing, uhh fluff, slight angst?, matt is a flirt, i edited this while fighting 6g melatonin Summary: Matt Murdock is a known flirt, and a successful one, at that. You've seen him work his magic on women dozens of times. But one night, he attempts to use that Murdock charm on you. He might've fallen first, but you just might fall harder... maybe.

Masterlist // Buy me a coffee!

Matt Murdock is many things: a great lawyer, a great friend, but most of all, he's a flirt. A merciless flirt, at that. A charmer and a tease. He has a way of making people, specifically women, feel special. It comes naturally to him, much to Foggy's dismay in his pre-Marci days.

You've been working at Nelson, Murdock, and Page for a while now, and you just sort of clicked with the group early on. There have been several occasions when you were all out at Josie's and Matt would work his magic on a woman. You would all watch as he'd flirt with them, charm them, and often times leave with them. It was a running joke in the group, at this point, that Matt was sort of a...philanderer, if you will. He didn't lead these women on, though. Matt was still pretty much a gentleman.

Although he keeps to himself more than the others, you've always been pretty close friends with Matt. He looks out for you the same way he does for Karen and Foggy, and you trust him—like really trust him. Was there a vibe you got from him sometimes? Sure, but you were also well aware that Matt could probably charm a brick wall if he wanted to, and you generally try not to fall for antics like that.

It's been a long week, and this case you were all working had dragged on for weeks in court. You all had done your best work for your client, but you weren't sure how the verdict would pan out. In the end, you guys won the case, and now it was time to celebrate.

Josie's is fairly busy. Foggy brought Marci tonight, and you all get yourselves a drink before claiming the pool table, which is thankfully free. The five of you toast to the big win in court before cutting loose a bit and playing a few games.

You're sitting at a table nearby with Karen, chatting a bit while Foggy plays against Marci—which is incredibly entertaining. Matt is by Foggy's side for emotional support, which he definitely needs. When both your drinks are empty, Karen gets up to get the two of you another round. After a few minutes, you peek over at the bar, wondering what's taking your friend so long. You're only a little surprised to find her talking it up with a guy. She's the friendly sort, but this seems like a bit more than just friendly. He's handsome and very much her type. Another minute later, Karen pops back over with your drink, and asks if you would mind if she stepped away to talk to Evan. You give her a suggestive grin and shoo her away before calling out to your friends that you're playing the winner in the next game.

In a shocking twist, Foggy beat Marci in the last game. Unfortunately for you, that just meant that she was on his side, cheering him on and distracting him from the game. Matt is sitting at the table you and Karen had been occupying, and you call him over.

"Come on, Matt, I need someone to root for me too," you tell him, and he laughs as he joins you by the pool table.

The two of you chat as you play, but after the next few shots, you lose Foggy to Marci's attention. He's practically drooling over her, and you would think it's adorable if it wasn't his turn.

"Earth to Foggy," you call out, but it's no use. You'll have to wait for him to turn his attention back to the game.

"Can you believe this?" You ask Matt, shaking your head in disbelief, and he laughs at your mild distress.

You lean against the table, grabbing your drink you'd left on the edge of it.

"You know, you really pulled through for us on this case," Matt says suddenly as he leans against the table beside you.

"Thanks, Matt. It was nothing though."

"No, really, I don't think we could've pulled it off if not for those documents you found."

"I'm just happy to help," you tell him.

"And we're very happy to have you," he says with a smile.

Matt holds out his glass, and you clink yours against it before taking a sip. You glance over to where Karen is to check on her, and she seems to be having a great time. Her eyes meet yours and she gives you a big smile.

"This is nice," Matt says, drawing your attention back to him.

"Hm?"

"We haven't spent much time together like this lately."

"Well, we've been so busy with the case, it's been hard to find time outside of work. And we all know you're always busy," you say, nudging him with your elbow.

"That's true," he says with a chuckle. "So what have you been up to outside of work?"

"Oh." You weren't expecting that.

"Um, well I've been watching this show lately." You explain the plot of the show before telling him about this new hobby you have. He listens attentively with a small smile. He shows genuine interest in what you're saying, asking questions here and there. After a few minutes, you realize that you've been babbling on.

"Jeez, I'm sorry. I've been rambling."

"Don't apologize," he says, leaning a bit closer. "I like listening to your voice." You recognize his tone. It's that seemingly innocent one he has when he's trying to charm someone. Something bubbles in your chest, and for a moment, you understand why so many women fall for his flirtations.

"I bet you tell all the girls that," you say with a laugh before taking another sip your drink.

"Hey, I mean it," he says, feigning hurt before finishing off his drink.

"Sure you do," you say, voice laced with amusement.

"I do, really. I could listen to you talk all day."

"You do listen to me talk all day," you joke, earning a chuckle from him, though his pride is a bit wounded.

Trying to keep his composure, he casually snatches your drink from your hand and takes a sip.

"Do you want me to get you another drink?" You ask with a laugh.

"I thought maybe we could share." His reply is quick, smooth, and it comes with that signature smirk again.

You roll your eyes. You know Matt and how he is. This case was tough and he's probably looking to blow off some steam, which is fine, but you're not sure why he's looking to you. Being friends with your bosses/coworkers can be difficult enough. Sleeping with Matt would likely complicate both of those relationships. You wouldn't want to risk it all over a one night stand, although, once again, you can see how he manages to captivate all these women.

You play it casual. "Sure, we can share if you want."

At that, you can see the twinge of frustration in Matt's expression. His brows draw up in what looks something like confusion.

"I heard Karen say she was talking to a guy at the bar?" He asks after a moment.

"Oh yeah, she said his name is Evan."

"Nice, nice."

A moment passes. You take your drink back for another sip as your eyes dance over the small crowd to check on Karen again, who still looks like she's having a great time.

"So, are you seeing anyone new?" And you almost spit that sip straight onto the floor. Josie would probably make you clean it yourself, or it would stay there until the sticky puddle dried.

You clear your throat from nearly choking. "No, I'm not." Matt's grin returns. He fumbles with his fingers.

"Oh, no?"

"Nope. You?"

"No, not lately." he says, taking your drink back again and draining half of what's left. He lets out a sigh after. "There's someone I've been interested in for a while, and I just can't quite get over my feelings," he says.

You freeze, your heart kicking up a fuss. Matt smiles at the floor. You try to maintain your composure.

"Oh, really?" you say, trying not to sound too interested. "Who's the lucky lady? Do we all know her?"

"Yeah, you do actually." He finishes off your drink. "Can I get you another?" He asks, holding up your glass.

"Umm." You glance at your watch. It's a Friday, but you don't want to go home so late that you have to call a car.

"Just one more? To celebrate our win." He plays it cool, but there's a slight edge to his voice, almost pleading.

"By one more, do you mean one of my own or one to share?" He laughs at that.

"What's wrong with sharing," he jests with a grin, then heads to the bar before you can reply.

He returns a couple minutes later with a drink for each of you, but his smile deflates when he finds that Foggy's attention has returned to the game you were playing.

"Thanks, Matt," you say passively as you take your drink and set it on the edge of the table before lining up your next shot.

You end up pocketing two balls in one go, letting out an excited shout.

"What's happening?" Matt asks.

"She just pocketed two balls," Foggy says, exasperated.

"My last two. And now I can go for the winning shot," you tell him. He smiles.

"Nice," Matt says, trying not to seem dejected.

"The odds of you making that shot are slim to none," Foggy says. He's right. Based on the placement of his remaining balls, it's unlikely that you'll make the winning shot in this turn, but you get competitive when people doubt you.

"Wanna bet?" you say.

"On you not making the shot? Hell yeah."

"How much if I do?"

"Twenty bucks."

"You don't sound too confident," you say, goading him.

"Fine, fifty." Marci lightly smacks his arm. Honestly, you shouldn't have pushed it with how slim your chances are, but you're feeling a little lucky tonight.

"Deal."

You call your pocket before taking a moment to line up your shot. You inhale deeply, hold it a second, exhale. Shoot. The 8 ball knocks against one of Foggy's, then against the edge of the table before slowly rolling toward the pocket you called. And it's in.

"Holy shit!" Foggy yells. You're cheering for yourself and Marci joins in the excitement.

Foggy comes around to your side of the table to give you your fifty dollars. "You definitely earned it," he says with a laugh. "Wanna go again?"

"I'm good," you tell him. "That was more than enough excitement for me."

You walk over to Matt, who is standing near the table you had shared with Karen earlier.

"I take it you won?"

"I did," you say, your voice oozing with pride.

He chuckles. "Of course you did."

He holds out his glass to toast to your win, and you clink yours against his, a bit spilling on the floor.

"So, what are you gonna do with the money you won?" he asks, setting his drink down on the table.

"Hmm, I'm not sure. Maybe I'll treat myself to dinner tomorrow night."

You go to step closer to the table to set your drink down, but slip on the puddle you'd left, falling forward. Matt catches you against his chest, his arms falling around your waist to steady you.

"Shit, I'm sorry," you say, removing your hands from his chest once you regain your footing, but Matt's arms don't move.

"You're finally falling for me, huh," he says with that smirk. Your heart skips a beat. Or maybe several. Actually, it feels like it might burst right out of your chest. Your eyes are wide, your cheeks growing hotter by the second.

"I– um, I–" you stammer, unsure of what to say.

"How about instead of treating yourself to dinner tomorrow night, you let me treat you."

"But what about–" you pause as the realization hits you. You were the woman he had been talking about. "Oh." You feel the tips of your ears reddening.

Matt lets out a soft chuckle at your reaction.

Now that you think about it, it's been more than a few weeks since Matt has flirted with anyone here at Josie's. Women have approached him, as usual, but he hadn't left with any of them or even accepted any of their offers to buy him a drink. He was still charming, but that's just natural with him. At the time, you attributed it to him being busy, as you all were with work. Matt had a way of really locking in on work when there was a heavy caseload, so it didn't seem unusual then. You would all just stop in at Josie's for a quick drink before heading home.

You're pulled from your thoughts by Matt tugging you a little closer to him.

"So how about it?" he asks quietly once he has your attention again. "We can go to that little Italian place you like near the office?"

Have you, at some point, considered what it might be like to be with Matt? Admittedly, yes. He's a sweetheart of a guy, always kind and courteous. He's a fierce lawyer—you're constantly impressed by his ability to captivate a jury and spin a narrative. And he and Foggy are always looking out for the little guy, taking on clients that don't have much—or anything at all, sometimes—but need help, and so they do just that. But at the end of the day, you're friends, and he's also your boss.

Your heart is in your throat.

"Um, as friends?" you ask.

He lets out a small laugh, shaking his head.

"Well, I was hoping it could be a date if you're comfortable with that."

You bite your lip. "I– I just don't know if I want to risk what we already have," you admit.

"Understandable," he says, and one of his hands comes up to rest on your cheek, the other remaining firmly on your waist. "But what if we could have so much more?"

Well, the joke's on you for trying to argue with a lawyer.

"You can think of it as a trial run if you want," he offers, his hand coming down to your jaw. "If it doesn't feel right to you, we can just go back to how things were."

It might not be that simple, you think, but maybe it's worth the risk, like he said. And besides, Matt is someone you love having in your life. If things didn't work out romantically after a date or two, you're sure you could still be friends.

"A trial run, then," you say with a small nod. Matt's smirk blossoms into a smile.

"Perfect," he whispers, his hand finding it's way back up to your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone. Your eyes flutter closed.

And then they're shooting back open as Foggy's voice cuts across the room.

"Look at all this love in the room tonight!" The volume of his voice makes you wince, and Marci bats at his arm, scolding him for ruining the moment. Both you and Matt burst into laughter at the pair.

You finish off your drink before getting ready to head out with the others. Karen bids Evan a good night as she readies herself to leave with the rest of you, but not before she gets his number. You link your arm through hers as you move toward the exit, asking about her night. She gives little away in the short walk to the door, but promises to catch you up at work on Monday.

"You had an eventful night too, didn't you?" she says with a grin.

"Oh yeah, I won fifty bucks off of Foggy."

"Wait, what? I was talking about with Matt. I saw the two of you over by the table," she says, nudging you playfully.

"Oh, you saw that?" You wear a bashful smile.

"Yes, and I expect to hear about that on Monday too," she says with a laugh, and you agree.

The cool night air greets you as you exit the bar, leaving goosebumps on your skin. Foggy and Marci get a cab first, calling out their "goodnights" as they get in the car. Karen calls another cab over, and she offers it to you, but you insist she takes it as she lives further than you.

And now you're left here with Matt.

"I don't see anymore taxis," you tell him. "I can call one for you if you'd like?"

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine to walk," he says, tapping his cane against the pavement. Neither of you live far from Josie's. It's about a ten minute walk from you.

"I was going to walk too," you say.

"Then, can I walk you home?" he asks.

"How about I walk you home? You're not far out of the way."

He shakes his head. "I don't want you walking alone if you can avoid it. It's late."

"Fine," you say. Then, "thank you."

He smiles at the ground before taking hold of the crook of your arm. "Of course."

The two of you walk in silence for a moment before he speaks.

"You know, I'm really looking forward to tomorrow night," he says.

A small smile makes its way onto your face. "Is that so?"

"Yes," he says. "Thank you for giving me a chance. I know you might think I'm some kind of... I don't know, playboy or something, but I'm– I'm serious about this—about you." Your cheeks burn hot at that.

"I don't think that about you," you say quietly.

"You don't?"

"No. Although, I do think you have an uncanny ability to charm pretty much any woman." He smiles again. "You're a flirt and a tease, but I wouldn't go as far as to call you a playboy." His smile falters a bit at that.

"I believe you, though," you tell him. "Admittedly, I'm a little hesitant to, but you've never given me a reason not to trust you."

"Then, I'll just have to keep proving that you can trust me."

You smile. "I'm looking forward to that."

The two of you walk together in silence for a bit.

"The moon is so bright tonight," you say as you look up at the sky.

"Is it?"

"Yeah, it is. I can see it shining through the clouds, but there are too many to see any stars."

Matt sighs. "I'd give anything to see that one more time." Your heart constricts at that.

"I– I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he says. "I like that you describe things like that to me. You do it more often than you might think. It feels like you want to share it with me, and I enjoy hearing how things look through your eyes. I remember what it was like, you know, seeing the night sky, all the stars up there—or at least what we could see from the city. When you tell me about it, it helps me keep those memories alive." You tear up just a little bit, smiling sadly.

"I'm glad I could do that for you."

A few moments pass, and you come up to your apartment building.

"This is me," you say with a sniffle, coming to a stop.

Matt turns to face you, bringing his hand up to cup your face once again.

"I take it back," he says softly.

"What?" you ask, confused.

"I take it back," he says again, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "As much as I wish I could see the sky again, I'd do anything to see you just once."

"Oh, Matt," you breathe, and a tear slips free. He brushes it away as he closes the gap between you, pressing a featherlight kiss to your lips. And then he's pulling away, but your hand comes up to gently tug him back by his tie. His hands find their place on your hips as you pull him into another kiss, this one a bit deeper. One of his hands comes up to rest at the nape of your neck, and his glasses bump against your nose as he angles his head. The two of you break apart in a laugh, and his hand comes down to take hold of yours.

"I wasn't planning on kissing you tonight, just so you know."

"Oh, no?"

He shakes his head, a small grin on his face. "Nope."

"Well, I guess you can just try not to kiss me tomorrow night," you say with a small smirk.

"Oh, I don't think so," he says, a laugh rumbling in his chest as he leans in to press one last kiss to your lips.

"Until tomorrow," he says once he pulls away.

"Goodnight, Matt," you say as you take a step towards the stairs to your building.

"Goodnight" he says, finally releasing your hand.

He waits until he hears you get safely inside your apartment to start his walk to his own, a smile on his face the entire way home.

You're practically giddy as you ready yourself for bed. There's a good chance you won't be getting much sleep tonight, not with the anticipation of tomorrow night lingering.

Matt feels it too. Despite the late hour, he's wide awake, his heart thumping wildly as he recounts the past hour or so. As he lies in bed, he can't help but miss the way you felt in his arms, like the piece he didn't realize he was missing. Some would say it's too soon to tell, but to him, you already felt like home.

Masterlist // Buy me a coffee!

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alexei will drink anything. you could add diesel fuel to his coffee and he'll drink it. hot or iced, whatever milk or milk substitute, it doesn't matter as long as you give him two cups of it. whenever yelena wants to try out a new drink without committing to it, she gets it for him and takes a sip beforehand.

john takes his coffee black. he says he can't drink it any other way because he got so used to it in the military. sometimes he'll sneak a bit of sugar in it when no one's looking, just when he wants a little sweetness, but he always orders a black coffee.

bucky will order either an iced americano, a cold brew, or on occasion, a hot cappuccino, much to the others' surprise. "what? i like a little variety." yelena always asks him before heading out just to be sure.

bob doesn't drink much coffee because it makes him jittery, so when he does it's more of a treat than anything else. he might get a mocha frappé, or maybe a tea or something decaf. when he says he doesn't want anything, yelena usually picks out a pastry for him instead.

ava sometimes tags along for the vibes, but also to check out what the new "flavor of the month" is, which is her favorite part about this café. she's always trying a new flavor, and when she discovers cold foam, it changes the game for her iced lattes. sometimes she'll have the flavor added to the cold foam, sometimes the latte itself, sometimes both. the salted caramel cold foam is one of her favorites. and yes, she is a pumpkin spice enjoyer when it's in season.

yelena drinks coffee a lot of the time, usually iced coffee. sometimes she adds a flavor or a little almond milk, sometimes she likes the astringency of the coffee on its own. she also enjoys a good matcha latte. she's very into interesting flavor profiles, so when she isn't in the mood for coffee, the earthiness of a matcha latte is her go-to. as long as she gets enough caffeine to put up with the others, though, she's fine.

and of course, she uses valentina's credit card and leaves a generous tip for the poor baristas fulfilling her outrageous coffee orders.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Masterlist ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

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Pairing: Matt Murdock x singer!Reader Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: anxiety, mild descriptions of an anxiety attack, stage fright, fluff, soft matt, potential typos (sorry). Summary: You love to sing, although definitely not in front of others. One day, you're caught in the act by your friend/boss, Matt Murdock, and he can't help but admire you.

Masterlist // Buy me a coffee!

You wouldn't call yourself a singer. In fact, you would insist that you aren't one. While you do love to hum and sing to yourself, you find yourself incapable of doing so in front of others. Some would call it stage fright, but it seems like too inconsequential a term for the way singing in front of others makes you feel.

One time, you were doing some filing when Foggy came out of his office without you realizing. You had been humming a tune to yourself and nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard, "That's a nice tune you're humming. You have a really nice voice!"

You know he was being sweet, but you turned a shade of red that Foggy didn't even know was possible before bolting to the restroom. When you returned after a few minutes, Foggy knew to act as if nothing had happened, and you were grateful for it.

Since then, you've been a bit more on edge about that kind of thing. You haven't been comfortable enough to consciously hum, hyperaware of your bosses' presence. Sometimes, though, when you're completely alone in the office, you feel comfortable enough to hum a tune, or seldom times, sing softly to yourself.

Still, there have been occasions when Matt and Foggy would be in their offices with their doors shut, and you would mindlessly hum quietly as you worked. And on these occasions, Matt Murdock can't help but smile to himself, knowing he's the only one who can hear the soft, melodic sound of your voice.

Today is a Sunday, and naturally, you have the entire office to yourself. You don't normally come in on weekends, but you know there will be plenty of clients coming in this week, and you wanted to straighten things up a bit before the craziness starts.

You're at the little coffee bar making yourself a cup of tea and restocking everything, softly singing a song that's been stuck in your head as you go. You sway a bit to the tune as you steep the teabag in water. Sunlight is streaming into the office, the smell of the fruity blend of tea is filling the air. You close your eyes, tilting your head back slightly, taking in the tranquility with a little spin as your voice grows just a little bit louder. You're truly basking in the moment when a voice says, "That's beautiful."

Your singing turns into a shrill scream, your eyes fly open, and your hand reaches for the closest object, which you launch at the figure leaning against the doorframe. As a box of teabags hits the figure, you realize that it's your dear friend/boss, Matt Murdock. He catches the box as it hits him and chuckles.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," he says. "I thought you heard me come in."

You barely process his words, still trying to catch your breath and calm your racing heart.

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

He lets out another little laugh as he steps into the room.

"I came to grab some files I needed to go over before tomorrow," he says. You're still in shock, barely able to form thoughts let alone words.

"You know, you really do have a beautiful voice," he says with a smile.

You're turning a fierce shade of red, flushing from your ears to your neck. Matt feels the heat creeping over you, and the corner of his smile quirks up into a smirk.

He walks up to you and hands you the box of tea, and you grab it from him with a bit of force, though your anger is quickly turning to embarrassment now. You place the box haphazardly on the counter, your thoughts still slowly catching up to you.

"I was coming up the stairs when I heard an angel in the office, so I slipped in quietly. I thought maybe being a good Catholic was paying off. Turns out, I was right." His teasing is merciless. Foggy would call an ambulance if he saw how red you were right now.

"Jesus, Matt," you breathe, batting at his arm. You're about to step around him when he leans in close, his voice coming out as little more than a whisper.

"I may not be able to see you, but what a pleasure it is to hear you."

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. He looks so satisfied with himself, and you almost want to smack him for making you feel like such a fool right now.

His brow pinches together as he realizes that you are definitely not enjoying this moment as much as he is. He pauses before delicately wraps his arms around your waist to steady you, gently tugging you to him in an embrace. One of his hands comes up to the small of your back, the other to the nape of your neck, tracing light circles against your skin.

Matt wouldn't necessarily call himself a singer either, but for you, he begins humming a soft, mellow tune—something he heard at some point during his childhood. Your arms finally fall around him. Your eyes flutter closed, and as his tune continues, he begins to sway the two of you slowly in a lazy circle. After a few minutes like this, your heart rate evens out, your breathing regular and soft. You feel as though you could fall asleep right here in his arms, head resting on his shoulder.

Soon, Matt's little song comes to an end, and his arms fall around your waist once again.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," he whispers, pressing a featherlight kiss to your temple. You stand up straight at this, heart jumping again, but his arms hold you gently in place.

"I promise I'll announce myself from now on." His voice is still quiet, his tone so soft and sweet it could lull you to sleep. "So please don't be afraid to sing in the office."

"Thank you," your voice comes out as a whisper, and he nods.

"I do wish you weren't so afraid to sing in front of others," he says, a bit of amusement lacing his voice. "Because I think your voice might be my new favorite sound."

At that you flush again, scrubbing a hand over your face with an exasperated sigh at his flirtation.

"Come on," he says, releasing you to gently grab onto the crook of your arm. "Why don't we get a late breakfast?"

You smile. "Fine, but I have to come back here after to finish all this," you say, gesturing vaguely to the office, which is in mild disarray.

"That can wait until morning," he says with a soft tug on your arm. "Spend the day with me?"

"Matt," you say pointedly.

"Come on, I promise I'll make it worth your while," he says with that cheeky smirk, and you roll your eyes.

"Fine," you say with a grin. You swear, he could convince you to do anything

"Perfect," he says before whisking you away for the rest of the day, leaving your tea to go cold on the counter.

Masterlist // Buy me a coffee!

taglist: @xoxabs88xox @echo-dreams-of-recs @mel-thefrog @midnight-rain-girlie ♥️

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.9k+ words Warnings: mentions of stalking, slight allusions to domestic violence, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, maybe like one swear word? like maybe, slight angst, cheeky Matt, i think that's it but idk i'm exhausted. (adding the cut at the very beginning due to the more triggering nature of some of the warnings) Summary: After working alongside Matt Murdock for about a year, you start to notice that he seems like maybe can see you. It's a crazy thought, and you feel almost bad for having it at all. That is, until you have a brush with Daredevil one night.

Part 2 // Masterlist // Buy me a coffee!

note: pls be nice about this one. it's been a really long time since i've written anything and it's also my first time writing for matt. thx.

Pairing: Bob Reynolds (Sentry) x Reader Word Count: only 875! the shortest thing i've written in a while. Warnings: mention of nightmares, panic-attack-like descriptions, softness, i think that's it. Summary: Nothing makes Bob feel quite as safe as you do.

A/N: I just can't help writing about Bob getting the love and tenderness that he deserved.

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To Bob, everything about you was comforting. From your inviting personality, to the soft lilt of your voice, to the way you always saw everything as a glass-half-full kind of situation— everything about you made him feel at ease. It had been that way since the moment he met you. Well, actually, it was the moment after. When the others told him they were getting an assistant, he was incredibly nervous. Someone new, who would learn about all the terrible things he’s done—all the terrible things he was capable of doing. He was buzzing with nerves when you first walked in the room, but the moment you introduced yourself with an outstretched hand and that heart-melting smile of yours, he felt everything in him go quiet. His heartbeat returned to its regular rhythm, his breathing evened out, and his hands stopped shaking as you took one of them in yours in a firm but gentle handshake.

He stumbled over his words the first time he spoke to you, his nerves surging once again, but in a different way this time. He almost couldn’t believe just how great you were. You seemed far too good to be true. But it was undeniable. You lit up every room you entered, with your kind eyes and that little sway in your step. You always knew what to say in every situation, even when he told you about his dark side. He was stunned by the way you immediately reassured him that what happened wasn’t his fault, and that no, you were most definitely not afraid of him. “I know you’d never hurt me,” you had told him, and you were right. He was capable of so many awful things, but he knew he would never be capable of hurting you.

The slow mornings after the team would return from a mission were some of his favorites. He would drag himself out of bed bright and early, knowing you would be in the kitchen with a cup of your favorite tea, enjoying the quiet tranquility while waiting for the others to awaken. It would be a couple of hours until they did, though, so Bob would sit with you in the morning sun, sipping on a hot cup of tea and making easy conversation with you, basking in the time alone together. To him, there was no better way to start the day.

On movie nights, he would sidle up next to you on the sofa, leaving a bit of space between the two of you. By the end of the movie, though, he would always end up with his head in your lap, your fingers running through his curls. The gentle pressure against his scalp would have him fighting the lull of sleep. Those were the nights he slept the best.

And you were there for him on the nights he slept the worst, too. The first time, you had been walking past his room when you heard him shouting in his sleep. You hurried inside when he wouldn’t answer the door and gently woke him from his nightmare. He had pulled you into his arms, latching on as if his life depended on it. Hot tears spilled down his face as you soothed him, one hand rubbing circles against his back while the other was running through his hair. No need for words, just your delicate touch.

Since then, he’s come to you when the nightmares became too much for him. Some nights, you would be in your room either readying yourself for bed or already lying down, waiting for sleep to take you, when a knock would come at the door. He would slip inside at your invitation and crawl into bed beside you, letting you catch his tears until they slowed to a stop and his breaths would come out evenly. Other nights, when work would keep you up a bit late, you would find him already in your bed when you got to your room. Most of those times, he was still awake, still dealing with the aftermath of the nightmare—his breathing erratic, heart racing a mile a minute, mumbling to himself, and shaking like a leaf in the wind. But everything in him would ease the moment he laid eyes on you. The solace that you provided made his insides feel like warm honey, the calm sensation spreading slowly throughout his body as his thoughts went quiet. You would join him in bed, sliding your arms around him and gently tucking him against your chest before drying any tears that might have fallen. His whole body would relax into you, his weight shifting as he would swing a leg over one of yours and drape an arm over your waist, leaning in to breathe in your scent, which he found unbelievably soothing. Your fingers would find their way into his hair, combing deftly through his tresses while applying that slight bit of pressure that was always sure to calm him. He would fall asleep to your soft whispers of reassurance, the gentle warmth of your body pressed to his, and of the feeling of your lips against his temple in a chaste kiss, because nothing made him feel quite so comfortable as you.

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