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#college!matt murdock
peterman-spideyparker · 5 months
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Half-Wrong (College!Matt Murdock x college!fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Howdy folks, ya girl somehow caught Covid during the worst week possible! I have a 102 fever and I don't really remember writing this cuz I've been taking a lot of naps, so if it doesn't make sense and has errors I'm sorry. I saw that Owen Sleater gifset (iykyk) and rolled with it. Enjoy :)
Summary: You have been attracted to Matt Murdock ever since the pair of you met at the coffee shop on campus on move-in day, but you knew he'd never feel the same way about you - this became especially true once you got insight on his romantic life. So when you find him waiting for you after you come back from a date, you take a chance.
Warnings: Sweet platonic fluff, close friendship vibes, kissing, smut (oral - f!receiving, sexy oral m!condom put on, protected sex, p in v sex), swearing
Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, ofc (Cassie)
Word Count: 2,844
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“C’mon, just a little more,” you huff as you move your run to a jog on the sidewalk. “A little bit more, and then we’ll be back at the dorms.”
“I don’t get why you think this is the best way to exercise,” Matt huffs as he puts his hands up in a T shape.
“You like boxing, I like a good run. Potato, potahto. The thing you should be thinking about is why you repeatedly agree and continue to go on runs with me,” you pant as you untie the tether that you use while you run—with Matt being unable to see and just how hard you imagine running with a cane would be, a tether to your waist to guide him and gently keep him out of the path of obstacles seemed like a good option.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve figured that part out yet, either. I mean, you do agree to box with me which is nice. But I think I just like spending time with you. Although, being tied with you does kind of make me feel like a dog.”
“Ah, but you’re such a kind, pretty dog with soft hair,” you smirk, ruffling his sweaty hair. “Such a good boy.”
“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, his cheeks flushing beyond the rosiness from the run. “Help me get to the cafe in the student union and I’ll buy us some waters.”
You press a kiss to his warm cheek and place his hand on your forearm. 
“Hey, are you still gonna join Foggy and I at Josie’s tonight?” he asks, his breathing sounding like it’s starting to return to normal as you both enter the nearby building.
“I thought that was tomorrow?” you return, navigating the pair of you through a small little self-serve concession area.
“No, tonight. You have plans?”
“Don’t sound too shocked.”
“I don’t mean it like that.”
“Okay. Then how did you mean it?”
“Well, just that you haven’t had plans in almost a year,” he exaggerates as he takes the waters you hand him.
“Excuse me, I have plans,” you say as you take the waters back and scan them, Matt rooting around in his shorts for his student ID.
“No, you have plans with your other friends semi-regularly. You never have date plans,” he clarifies as he swipes his ID to pay.
“I’m sorry all of us can’t be you with a new companion every few weeks.”
“I don’t have a ‘new companion’ every few weeks.”
“Oh, come on, Matt, don’t deny it,” you say as you drink your water. “Right now, it’s that girl from that IP law class, before that it was a dental student, then I think an international relations major? But let’s not forget about contract law girl, estate planning—.”
“Okay, fine, I’ve had a lot of short-term relationships.”
“Well, that’s great for you, but that’s not what I’m looking for,” you tell him. “I mean, I don’t expect anything right now to last forever, but, I don’t want it to be a four-week thing and then be done with it. If I’m gonna make plans with someone, it’s because I think I still might be making plans with them in five months.”
Matt nods and drinks some of his own water as you move back outside and in the direction of our dorms. “So, what’s this guy like? Where’d you meet?”
“Cassie actually set us up,” you say. “She said that he seemed like my type, like a really good guy.”
“Well, then, I’m happy you have plans tonight. I hope it goes well.”
“Thanks, Matt. I do, too. I mean, I have no reason to think they won’t. Just tell Foggy I’m sorry I’m gonna miss him tonight.”
“Of course.”
“Do I see a wild (Y/N) in one of her natural habitats?” you hear Foggy call from across the quad.
“Speak of the Nelson, and he shall appear!” you smile as he comes to wrap you in a hug. 
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages!”
“(Y/N) has a date tonight,” Matt says with a devilish grin.
“Matthew!” you say, giving him a swift whack. “This is exactly why I don’t tell you things.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m happy for you, really.”
“I am, too!” Foggy chimes in. “I’m bummed that it means you’ll miss drinks at Josie’s, but, it’s about time you get dicked down.”
“I need to hang out with more friends that are girls,” you sigh, taking a look at your watch. “I gotta go now if I want to take an everything shower.” Kissing each of their cheeks, you wave goodbye and run off to your dorm to get ready.
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“I just don’t see it going anywhere,” you sigh as you enter the main lobby of your dorm building.
“Really?” Cassie asks over the phone.
“We work on paper, but there wasn’t any spark.”
“Maybe the spark is gonna take some time.”
“A spark shouldn’t take time, Cass. It should be right there I didn’t feel anything.”
“You can’t pin every guy against Matt, you know.”
“I’m not comparing everyone against Matt,” you scoff incredulously. 
“Yes, you are. Ever since you met. I bet you felt a spark with him.”
“So what if I did? It’s clear he didn’t with me, but . . .” You sigh and shake the thought out of your head. “I’m not an option for him. He’s a good person, but more importantly, he’s my friend. I’m not gonna spend my time fantasizing about something that’s never gonna happen.”
“HA.”
“You are so mean.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just a funny concept—you, not fantasizing.”
“Rude.”
“I’m your oldest friend, it’s my job.”
“I appreciate it. Listen, I just got to my door, I’m gonna call it a night.”
“Okay, (Y/N). Sleep well.”
“You too.”
Hanging up, you sigh as you put your phone back into your bag, hiking the strap up over your shoulder, slipping out your keys and undoing the old locks. You toss your purse on the nearby table, but freeze in your tracks when you see someone sitting on your bed. Not any someone. Matt.
“You shouldn’t be in here this late,” you breathe.
“I shouldn’t be in here at all,” he says softly, folding his glasses and putting them on your nightstand. “But why do something half-wrong?”
You slowly start to close the gap between where he sits and where you stand. “Matt . . .”
“If you want me to go, I will. Just say the word.”
“. . . Why now?”
“I don’t know. I just . . . I realized tonight when I was at Josie’s with Foggy that if you’re going to be kissing anyone, I want it to be me.”
You don’t care what you just told Cassie. Honestly, you don’t care about anything or how this could complicate your friendship or any of the consequences. Instead, you move to your bed, climb into his lap, and kiss him. That spark you first felt with Matt when you met is a full-blown lightning bolt now, every last bit of you tingling with electricity; you know Matt feels it too from the way his hands slide up your back and how his fingers card through your hair. Matt leans back on the mattress, letting you take the lead as you make out. His kisses gradually grow more aggressive—the clashing of teeth, nipping, squeezing, and grinding. Matt rolls your bodies over on the bed, eagerly but carefully pulling off your shirt.
“Please tell me you were anticipating this and have condoms on you,” you pant as he peppers kisses all over your torso.
“Mmm,” he hums into my body. Oh my God, I think I just came. “Four.”
“We’re using all of them.” You feel how his lips curl into a smile against your body, making you writhe before you scream out when he starts to suck on the sweet spot on your neck.
“Ambitious,” he hums, licking and kissing at the stinging spot on my neck.
“Oh, well, you know me,” you grunt, your fingertips scratching his scalp. “I love to go above and beyond.”
“Let’s shoot for two,” he says into your collarbone.
“Don’t think I can handle using them all?”
He lifts his face up to be level with yours. “I’m saying that you won’t be walking straight after one. If we use more than two, I’ll be carrying you around campus for a week.”
“Sound like a challenge.”
“It’s a guarantee.”
You both smile brightly before you kiss, and you bunch up the cotton of his shirt exposing his soft skin and toned muscles something out of a romance novel.
“Like what you see?” he smirks.
“You’re too cocky for your own good,” you sigh as you run a hand down his exposed body. “But as a matter of fact, I really, really do.”
“Well, if you’re thinking of doing what I think you are, angel . . . Tonight is about you, and treating you right. How I should’ve treated you a long time ago.” He leans down and kisses your lips before moving the embraces along your cheek to just below your ear. “Sit back and relax, sweetheart. I’m gonna take good care of you.”
You sigh as he presses kisses down your chest, nipping at your cleavage and soothing the sting of any bite with his lips. You pant in excitement under his touch as his hands wrap around my back, unclasping your bra and sliding it painfully slow off of your body. You let out a sigh and toss your head to the side as his lips wrap around your nipple, one of his hands on your free breast while the other hand holds onto yours. Matt takes his time as if he’s trying to map out your body in his mind with his lips. Gazing down, you catch a glimpse of how happy Matt looks as he drags his lips further down your torso, pressing a long kiss on your belly button before unbuttoning your pants to shimmy them off your legs. Tossing them to the floor, he kisses all the way up your legs before spreading them apart to nestle his face against your covered core. You whine at his careful and deliberate movements, lifting your hips to help him slide the fabric off. Matt’s fingers gently spread you open, exposing yourself completely to him.
“Oh, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes. “So perfect for me.”
Carefully, he lets out a soft breath on your pussy before leaning forward and wrapping his lips around your clit.
“Oh!” you cry out. “Fuck . . .”
Your toes curl as Matt works his magic, and your eyes flutter shut as you let your mind get caught up in all the things that Matt is making you feel. If you had known he could make you feel like this—if you knew he even felt an inkling of the same way toward your, you would’ve done something to let him know that you care about him more more than a friend.
“Matty,” you breathe, running your fingers through his hair. “Oh, Matt, just like that. So good.”
You watch as Matt tries to lift his gaze upward to meet yours, his beautiful hazel eyes sparkling with delight as he eats you out. You swallow hard, throwing your head back as you feel your orgasm quickly approach. You cry out when you feel him slide two fingers into you, curling them just right to throw you over the edge. Your body arches off of the mattress as you cry out, your thighs clenching around his head. Matt’s tongue cleans up every last drop of your arousal before kissing all the way back up your body.
“You taste so good, angel,” he murmurs into your lips. “You ready for me?”
“Please,” you breathe, kissing him deeply. “I need you.”
He grins, kissing you again before leaning back and undoing his pants, shimmying them down enough to free his cock from the fabric before he reaches in his pocket to grab a condom. He is absolutely huge—delightfully so, and I feel the space between my legs instantly flood at the sight of him. Now what he said about not walking straight makes total sense, and not Matt just being cocky.
“All the way off,” you demand with a smile.
“Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”
You bite your lip in excitement as he gets completely naked while you tear open the little foil package.
“C’mere,” you grin as you drink him in as he kneels on your bed, completely and utterly bare.
Matt licks his lips, doing as you ask, folding his arms behind his head. Fuck, he has to know what he’s doing when he rests like that. Carefully, you crawl over to him, putting the tip of the condom in your mouth before you wrap your hand around his base and bring your head down his length. Your jaw hurts as you go down his thick cock, but you manage to get it all the way down. When you get back up, you see how lust-blown Matt’s expression is, how flushed his cheeks and chest are.
“That was so fucking hot,” he hums. “Get over here, angel.”
With a smile, you move to meet him in a kiss, a new passion in the embrace that hand’t been there before.
“You ready for me?” he breathes.
“Yeah,” you nod eagerly as you dip down for a kiss.
With firm hands on your hips, he guides you down on his cock. You moan in harmony as he gets deeper and deeper in you, and it feels like you’re going to get split in two the further he goes. When you’re all the way down, he pulls you in for a deep kiss.
“Are you okay?” he breathes when your lips part.
“I’m okay,” you assure him. “You’re big."
“And you’re tight,” he smirks. “You good for me to move?”
“Oh, fuck, please.”
“Such good manners.”
With another kiss and a smile, Matt wraps his arms around you so your back is on the mattress and he’s hovering above you. You feel the sweet sting from the drag of his cock as he pulls out before pushing back in, testing and stretching you slowly as he starts to establish a rhythm. Your lips part as you feel more pleasure with each of Matt’s thrusts, one of your hands moving to his bicep and creating little crescent moons in his soft skin as he moves faster and faster.
“Right there,” you breathe. “Shit . . . Matt, yes, right there.”
“Good girl,” he hums. “So good taking my cock like that.”
“K-Kiss me,” you stutter, feeling your second orgasm approaching.
Looking at you tenderly, he leans down and kisses you long and slow, staying lower to keep little space between our bodies.
“You’re perfect,” he breathes, kissing your cheek. “So perfect.”
“Matt, ‘m close,” you whimper.
“Whenever you’re ready.” His hand cradles the side of your face, kissing you once more.
You bite your lip, stifling your moan as you come around Matt, your body clinging to his as he continues to move his hips, his skin flushing as he grunts, approaching his own release, spilling into the condom. He kisses you all over as your breathing steadies, pulling out and tossing the condom into the trash before wrapping you in his arms and kissing your wherever his lips can find skin.
“Matt,” you chuckle softly as he sucks marks into your collarbone.
“Shh,” he hums, kissing the marks to soothe them.
“Matt, it tickles!”
You feel his lips curl into a smile as he presses kisses up your neck. “I’ve always loved your laugh. This is just another way I can hear it.”
“And it’s another way I can see your smile.” You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You know, I bet if you give me enough time in between, we can use up all the condoms.”
“You think?”
“Nothing saying we can’t try.”
“Ambitious girl,” he smiles.
“It’s part of my charm. Why you like me. Why we work well together.”
“One of the reasons, yeah. There’s plenty of others, though.”
“Oh?”
“Mm.” He kisses your forehead. “I’ve got a whole list.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” 
You giggle at the silence and look at him. “Are you gonna tell me any?”
Matt’s fingers trace aimless patterns on your skin. “I think you already know them, angel. But I’ll tell you one every day. Today, it’s your ambition. Tomorrow . . .” He lets out a breath. “It’ll be whatever feels right for me to point out.”
“Well, I’ve got a list, too. And right at the top is how safe you make me feel. How special you make me feel. How loved." You kiss his chest. "Tomorrow’s something might have to do with your nose.”
Matt’s expression is filled with tenderness, closing the gap between you once more, holding onto you and letting you rest right above his heart.
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chvoswxtch · 1 year
Note
hello! I hope ur having a good day! I have a request if you’re up to it! we’ve always had Professor matt so to spice things up can we have a college!matt x professor!reader? he’s actively trying to gain the pretty professor’s attention and she’s slowly falling for it. you can make it fluffy or spicy or smutty. its all up to you!
hi nonnie!
I hope you're having a good day as well! I genuinely loved this idea bc we all know matty is a flirt but I feel like college!matty is a HUGE flirt and would totally go after the pretty professor. and honestly, she would eat that shit up, let's be real. but who wouldn't???
thank you so much for the request! ❤️
warning: contains mentions of sexual content (minors please dni), swearing word count: 3k
office hours.
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When Matt was reminded by his advisor that he needed to take a literature course to satisfy his degree plan, his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. He had been continuously putting it off, but with one final semester left of undergrad, he couldn’t graduate without it. It wasn’t that Matt didn’t enjoy reading, he simply just wasn’t interested in taking anything that didn’t have to do with his program. He’d read enough “classic literature” and written enough analysis essays in high school, and he wasn’t looking forward to going through that agonizing process again. Reluctantly, he signed up for the last course available.
Taking a seat in the very back of the small classroom, Matt set up his laptop and plugged an earbud into his ear, prepared to appear engaged while he got started on a project for another class. All around him seats filled up with other students, but it wasn’t until he caught the sweet scent of pink grapefruit and blue wisteria that his fingers stilled over his keyboard. He turned his head slightly to the side towards the wall as the scent rushed down the hall, accompanied by a racing heartbeat. Matt’s head snapped towards the front when you walked through the classroom door slightly out of breath, heat in your cheeks from the run, and also a twinge of embarrassment. 
“Probably not the best first impression to be late on the first day of class, but in my defense, I’m still learning how to navigate New York. I can’t promise I won’t be late again, so we won’t be counting tardies in this class, to a reasonable limit.”
An anxious giggle left your lips, and luckily everyone seemed to find the humor in your admission. Matt’s lips parted slightly at the sound, and he quickly ripped the earbud out of his ear as you introduced yourself.
“Hi everyone. My name is Y/N Y/L/N, please call me Y/N. This is my first year teaching, and you guys are my second class, so we’re figuring this all out together.”
Another timid giggle left your lips, and Matt clenched his fist tightly as the sound settled in his ears. 
“I don’t expect perfection, I just want you guys to do your best. We aren’t reading things some arrogant ‘expert’ decided was a classic, or writing mind numbing papers identifying every literary device to prove you know what they are. I want to show you works that move you and make you think…make you feel. And I want to know what they make you think, and how they make you feel. The only way to fail this class is to not try.”
God your voice. It was as sweet as your perfume and had a velvet cadence that stuck to Matt’s ears like honey. He wanted to listen to you talk for hours, about anything. Your heart continued to beat wildly in your chest throughout the duration of class, and you fiddled with the rings on your fingers as you paced slowly around. You were incredibly nervous. Matt could feel it in the tremble of your fingers, hear it in the slight shake of your voice, and feel it in the rush of blood that never left your cheeks. He found it endearing that you were so anxious, and could hear how passionate you were in the way you spoke. Everything about you drew him in, and before he could stop himself, he was marching up to your desk once everyone filed out of the room to introduce himself.
“Excuse me? Hi, my name is-”
“Matthew Murdock, right?”
Matt abruptly paused, and he swallowed the sound that threatened to come out of his mouth at the way you said his name.
“J-just Matt, uh…yeah.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Matt. I’m Y/N.”
Your hand was so soft and small clasped in his own, and he could faintly smell the scent of blackberry from a lotion you’d smoothed over your body the previous evening. 
“It’s nice to meet you as well.”
“You have perfect timing, I was actually just about to come to you.”
Matt’s ears perked up at that, and he stood up a little straighter, already missing your touch as you slowly let go of his hand.
“You were?”
“Yeah, this is for you.”
You lightly wrapped your fingers around his wrist, carefully guiding his hand to a folder that you had outstretched in your hand. Matt cocked his head to the side slightly as he let his fingers glide over the folder, pausing as they ran over a braille label that had his name on it. Taking the folder into his hands, he opened it to find stacks of paper in braille on the inside.
“It’s the syllabus, a list of the works we’re studying, and the first section of notes we’re going to go over. I wasn’t sure if you were able to access the digital copies. I’m still trying to figure out how the portal works, honestly.”
There was a timid smile that stretched across your mouth, and Matt could hear a slight bit of nerves in your confession. For a moment he was stunned silent by the kind gesture, swallowing thickly as he closed the folder and offered you a small smile in return.
“I-uh…yeah, I was able to. But um…I-thank you. For this, I uh…I appreciate it.”
“Of course. I like to have tangible copies of things, myself. Helps keep me organized. Or, at least I think it does. Maybe it’s a sensory thing and I’m just tricking myself into thinking it’s making me more productive.”
Matt couldn’t help but chuckle as you giggled softly, nodding his head in agreement.
“I can understand that.”
“Well if there’s ever anything you need, any help or accommodations at all, please don’t hesitate to tell me. All my information is on the syllabus, and I practically live here since I never go home, so my office is always open.”
“Good to know.”
From that day forward, Matt sat in the front row for every single class. He blitzed through every single text on the syllabus, always prepared to participate in the discussions, and approached every assignment early. He wanted so badly to impress you, and his chest swelled with pride every time you complimented one of his thoughts or ideas, or stayed behind after class to offer your positive verbal feedback on one of his assignments. 
Matt knew he wasn’t the only one that wanted the pretty, young professor’s attention. He could hear the way the other students in class talked about you, which caused a tide of possessiveness to rise in his chest. Matt could also feel your affect on them as you smiled in their direction, or offered a compliment to one of their remarks, and it made jealousy simmer in his bloodstream. He was determined to be your favorite.
He found himself constantly stopping by your office hours to feign needing help or a second opinion on his approach to a paper, mainly as an excuse to talk to you alone, but also to scratch that itch of praise when you confirmed he was on the right track. Matt knew he was smart, and he knew he wrote incredible papers, but he liked hearing that come from you. 
He loved when you complimented his intelligence. Was it wrong to fake being unsure just to hear you say, “That’s exactly right, Matt” or “I hadn’t even thought of it that way, but I love that idea”? Probably. But it didn’t feel wrong. It felt good.
Matt had to be careful playing dumb. You both knew he was smart, so he had to switch his tactics up. He found himself asking for other recommendations for reading material from you, wanting to know what your favorite works were, going out to buy them and consume them just to get a glimpse into your head, and then listen to the passion in your voice as you explained why they meant so much to you. He liked that you asked him questions too, questions he didn’t hear you ask any of the others when they stopped by. You asked him about how his other classes were going, how his day had been, about himself and his friends, and he could tell you genuinely cared about the answers. Every second he spent with you, he felt the crush he had on you getting stronger and stronger. He knew the way he felt about you was wrong. You were his professor, and he shouldn’t be having the thoughts about you that he did.
He shouldn’t feel like his heart was going to beat out of his chest every time you smiled in his direction and showered his mind in praise. He shouldn’t feel the spark of something more when you let him hold your arm as you guided him towards your office, reveling in the feeling of your soft skin beneath his fingertips. He shouldn’t stroke his cock to the sound of your voice from a recorded lecture, waiting to let himself come until it got to the part of the recording where you said his name so sweetly. He shouldn’t be waking up with a wet patch on his sweats after yet another wet dream about fucking you over your desk. All of this was wrong, and the good Catholic boy in him knew that.
But he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 
Because every time he started to feel guilty about what he was doing, he reminded himself of the way your body reacted to him.
Matt was careful with his flirting, crafting his sentences in a way that could be played off as casual conversation or banter, but riddled with undertones that could only be understood by the person given the cipher. The blood that rushed into your cheeks when Matt complimented you back or said something teasing that made you giggle only fueled his confidence to get bolder and bolder as the weeks went by. 
He heard the uptick in your heart rate when he mentioned how soothing he found your voice, and the way it pounded beneath your ribs when he “accidentally” brushed his hand over your exposed thigh to reach for his backpack. He felt the warmth that pooled in your cheeks when he stopped by with your favorite coffee, and when he confessed that you were one of the best professor’s he’d ever had; definitely “his favorite”, he had said. He should’ve felt bad that he could possibly ruin a career that you were clearly very passionate about, but the selfish part of his brain was screaming that you felt it too. 
With spring break approaching soon, and the thought of going a whole week without being around you, Matt devised a plan to finally make you his.
The building was empty considering most professors and students had left the previous day to get a head start on vacation plans, but Matt smiled to himself hearing your familiar heartbeat coming from your office. You had made class today optional, in case anyone was traveling or needed the break, and Matt had hoped that he would’ve been the only one to show up. To his disappointment, about half the class was there, but he knew he would get you alone soon enough. Matt waited until your office hours were just about to end, in case any other student had some last minute question, and when he was certain that it was just the two of you alone, he raised his knuckles to knock softly on the worn wood of your open door.
A quiet gasp left your lips, clearly surprised by the company, and Matt had to stop the cocky smirk that threatened to take over his mouth at the way your heart started to beat faster noticing his presence.
“Matt, hey.”
“Hey. I didn’t miss your office hours, did I?”
“Uh…nope. You have exactly a minute.”
Matt’s mouth split into a wide toothy grin at the playful tone in your voice, chuckling as he followed the familiar path from the door to the chair that was directly in front of your desk.
“Well, I’ll make this quick then. I know you have very important spring break plans to get to.”
“Oh yeah. Super important. I mean, my takeout isn’t gonna order itself.”
Matt dropped his backpack on the right side of the chair, folding up his cane as he sank back into the plush cushion and tossed it down by his feet. He pulled off his glasses and set them on your desk, a habit he had gotten into since you’d let it slip that you preferred it when he didn’t wear them.
I feel like you hide behind those, sometimes. It’s nice to get to see all of you, Matt.
His tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips as he fixed his gaze in your direction, a timid smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
“I actually need to ask a favor of you.”
“Of course, Matt. Whatever you need. What can I do?”
Matt gripped onto his own thigh to steady himself, your immediate response and sweet voice hitting his cock before they even reached his ears. His lips parted slightly when you sat up a little straighter in your chair, leaning in closer over your desk with a warm smile on your lips.
“I need a letter of recommendation for the law program.”
“And you’re asking me?”
Matt couldn’t help but laugh at the surprised tone of your voice, shaking his head slowly as he leaned in closer to your desk and rested his elbows on the surface.
“I already have a few from my other professors, but my advisor mentioned having one from a professor outside of my main area of study would make me seem more…well rounded.”
Matt should’ve felt horrible about lying. He didn’t actually need a letter of recommendation from you. He’d applied to the law program months ago, and had already gotten in, but he would confess that later.
“Mm, so I’m next in line to make you look good?”
“Well, you are my favorite, and you have a way of making everything sound beautiful. If I’d taken your class a long time ago like I was supposed to, I probably would’ve asked you first before anyone else.”
Matt didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath you took, or the way your face instantly became a few degrees warmer.
“You wouldn’t have been able to take my class earlier, Matt. This is my first year, remember? You would’ve been stuck with someone else.”
“I guess I forget sometimes because you’re so good at this. But, that’s true. I don’t think I would’ve liked who I got stuck with as much as I like you. I’m glad I waited for you.”
Matt did his best to stay calm as he heard you swallow thickly, your breathing becoming a little more shallow as your heart rate drummed loudly in his ears.
“That’s…really nice of you to say, Matt-”
“I mean it.”
A blanket of tension suddenly surrounded the two of you, and his lips parted slightly as he caught a faint shudder course through you. Your fingers clutched the hem of your dress where it settled high on your thighs, digging your nails lightly into your palms through the fabric. Matt was waiting for your body to give him a signal, indisputable proof that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, before he crossed that line the two of you had been dancing around.
“Um…when do you need it by?”
“The earlier the better, I’m a little behind. But, take your time. I’d like this to be as…real and honest as possible.”
“I…um…I can have it ready for you by the time we come back from spring break.”
“That’s perfect, thank you. I really appreciate you doing this for me. I appreciate everything that you do for me, truly.”
“O-of course. It’s my job, Matt.”
Matt’s voice dropped an octave lower as he cocked his head to the side slightly, running his tongue along his bottom lip before the corner of his mouth curled upwards into a devilish smirk. 
“No. I think it’s more than that.”
Bingo.
The second he felt you press your thighs together under the desk and the enticing scent of your arousal hit his nose, Matt knew he had you. He rose from the chair steadily, gliding around the side of your desk slowly like a predator circling in on its prey, grabbing onto the sides of your chair as he bent over so that your faces were merely an inch apart.
“I think you know that too, sweetheart.”
“Matt-”
“I think if I put my hand between these pretty thighs, you’d be just as wet for me as I am hard for you.”
A shocked gasp flew past your lips as you sank back further into your chair, fighting the urge to spread your thighs to let Matt test his own theory, and averting your gaze from the prominent bulge in his jeans. 
“We can’t-”
Matt lightly grasped your chin in his hand as he forced you to look at him. He delicately traced his thumb along your bottom lip, leaning in ever so slightly to bump his nose against yours as he inhaled your scent deeply.
“You’ve done so much for me. Been so good to me, sweetheart. Shown me so much kindness. I’d like to repay that kindness, and show you how much I appreciate you. You gonna let me do that?”
A soft whine of desperation sounded in your throat, and a huge grin split across Matt’s mouth as you leaned further into his touch. He had you exactly where he wanted you.
“Yes you are. Because you’re my girl. My good girl.”
tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042
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devils-dares · 1 year
Text
Top of the Class
summary: you and matt could not be further from each other, he's unlike you in every way and you hate him for it, but something always draws the two of you back to each other.
pairing: college!matt murdock x fem!reader
warnings: NSFW 18+ minors DNI, this is basically hate sex with a little softness at the end, semi-established relationship?? (they're enemies)
wordcount: 858
a/n: first smut whaaaat?
feedback is always appreciated!
-----
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The noise of his headboard hitting the wall did absolutely nothing to deter you from making even more noise, the pistoning of his hips stealing away any semblance of thought from you. His large forearms bracket your head, his lips mere inches from yours.
"How's it feel, huh? How's it feel being fucked 'by the likes of me'?" He uses your earlier words against you, having overheard a conversation between you and your friends.
You moan pathetically in response, nails dragging down his back to leave raised red tracks in their wake, he curses and drops his head, sucking marks into your skin.
"Did you finally realize you're nothing but a whore? Fucking around with all those prep boys yet you're sneaking into my room at night just to get a good fuckin’? Such a naughty girl." One of his hands leaves the support he has on the bed to hold your neck, squeezing just enough to limit your air intake and have that delicious emptiness in your brain become evermore delirious.
"Can't even fucking talk, hm? You gonna cum?" You nod, and he laughs at you, "Poor you, too bad. Hold it." You whine at his words but do as he says. You have no reason to, but his domineering position has you in literally and figuratively a chokehold, so you comply anyways.
He sits up, grabbing your thighs to push your legs over his shoulders. He gives you no warning but a little smirk and a dark chuckle before he resumes fucking you. He hits that spot, which annoyingly, only he can hit and you squeal.
"Don't hold back," he whispers, "I want everyone in this goddamned house to hear you scream.'' He starts thrusting harder, resulting in you and the bed being the loudest you possibly can.
"Matty, Matty, please," you say and he laughs at you again.
"What are you begging for, brat? Use your big girl words for a change, thought you were top of your class." You're afraid to request, however, feeling as though he'd make fun of you for what you wanted.
"Say what you want, whatever you wish I'll grant it." He says, and you're left wondering how he can exert so much energy yet have so much breath left to talk to you.
"Closer, pl-please." His hips stutter for half a second, and then he picks up the pace.
"Awh, you want me closer? Alright babybug." You hated when he called you petnames, but so long as he granted your wish, which he did, you didn't care.
"Gonna cum!" You squeal into his shoulder. He brings you impossibly closer to his body, and you can feel his abs flex with every thrust.
"Matty please," you beg, "can I cum?" He tuts at you.
"You're so far gone, aren't you, pretty girl? Yes, you can cum for me." He feels you tighten around him, grunting as you arch your back into him and practically scream his name. He fucks you through it, and only slows when he feels you squeezing his shoulder.
"Too much?" He asks softly, and you nod.
"I can stop, princess." You shake your head quickly.
"I want-" You have to take a breath to finish your statement, the aftershocks of your orgasm still washing over you, "want you to finish in me." He squeezes your hips and drops his head to your shoulder.
"Can't just say stuff like that, angel." You feel him tenderly resume his thrusts, groaning deeply into your neck as you squeeze around him.
You feel him throb inside of you, and if the tightening of his hands on your hips is anything to go by, he's close. You bring one of your hands up to his hair and give a gentle tug, coaxing him to "give it to me, Matty." He groans, and you feel him fill you up. You convince him to stay, his softening cock still tucked up inside of you while he lays his body weight on you.
"You alright?" He was always kind and gentle to you in the moments after, a stark contrast to your relationship outside the bedroom. You nod, feeling your eyes droop.
"I gotta go. Gonna fall asleep if I stay."
"Stay," he talks softly as if he were trying to lull you to dreamland, "I'll take care of you. Let me clean you up and dress you, I'll grab you a glass of water."
"You don't ha-"
"I'm offering, angel, let me." You nod and he does just as he says.
-----
The two of you lay in his bed, he's dressed in just boxers and you've thrown on panties and his shirt. Your ear is pressed against his chest, his heartbeat willing you to sleep.
"Thank you." You say sleepily.
"For?" He asks softly, hands running up and down your bare thighs.
"Letting me in."
"I'm not quite sure what that means, angel." But he won't get an answer, for you've fallen asleep on his chest. He vows to your sleeping figure that he won't move until you've woken, pressing a secret kiss to your forehead.
"Thank you too, angel."
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amberlynnmurdock · 5 months
Text
College Series (Part 1)
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Part 1: Moving In
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader
Series Summary: Matt Murdock scarcely ever let himself get too comfortable with people because comfort was always followed by chaos, or worse, abandonment. But when you move into the co-ed apartment off campus, Matt thinks that maybe this time things will be different. At least, he really hopes so. And that might be the most naive thing he would do in his time studying law at Columbia University. Soon, his nights are filled with red wine, learning about Greek mythology and barely using his own bed to sleep in because yours is right down the hall.
A/N: This is basically me revamping what I always wanted "Library Series" to be, so I hope no one minds another college!Matt Murdock fic. I don't know if this will have a real plot yet, but I'll figure it out along the way. I hope you guys enjoy! :) This chapter is entirely in Matt's POV!
Ao3 Link
Matt Murdock walked down the sidewalk slowly, counting each step as he did until he could sense that he reached his supposed destination. He stopped with his cane in front of him and listened to his surroundings: rustling leaves, a woman walking her dog, and cars turning onto the narrow street in upper Manhattan. 
The building he stood in front of was what he would be calling home for the next semester. Although he couldn’t see it, he knew it was a tall brownstone building with iron rails and large, wide steps. He could hear the creak in the old wood of the front door and the lock attached to it inside. He could hear the people inside the building moving boxes around and adjusting furniture. Strangers that he would be calling neighbors—for the time being, because people never stayed around forever. 
Matt heavily sighs as he adjusts his shoulder bag and lugs his suitcase behind him, which isn’t filled with much: sweaters, shirts, jeans, underwear, sheets, toiletries, his Bible, and Orbit Reader. When he was packing at St. Agnes’ he didn’t think much about what he would need to bring. While some college students made lists and packed, and overpacked, Matt thought nothing more of it than just a new place to stay. Maybe it was because he was so used to packing the same suitcase and moving from destination to destination, that he’d become accustomed to moving around a lot. After all, he truly never had a home since his dad died. That was the only home he’d known. St. Agnes was just a place to stay. 
With heavy shoulders, he walked up the steps one by one and shuffled in his duffle bag for the keys to the building. It was easy for him to pick it out. It was an old-fashioned skeleton key with an intricate gothic design he could trace with his fingertips. Once inside, he shut the heavy door behind him and stood once more before the long flight of stairs that would lead to his temporary apartment. Unfortunately, an elevator wasn’t an option. 
He slowly trekked up the steps, passing each floor and the shut doors of other people moving in. Some were college kids, some weren’t, but he heard each and every conversation as he passed. It reminded him of when he was younger when he would sit in Clinton Church before mass and hear people praying to God. It was uncomfortable to hear personal things, but he’s gotten used to drowning out the noise and moving on. 
After a few more flights, he finally reached the top floor of the building, which led to the apartment. It turned out to be the biggest one in the building. He pulled out the other key to the apartment and let himself inside, immediately hit with the smell of dust and old wood. He couldn’t sense any furniture in the living room, except for a small kitchen island with a marble countertop and an old wooden kitchen table set.
Matt traced his fingers along the wall as he slowly made his way to the hall that led to the bedrooms. First come, first serve he thought. There were two rooms closer to the front of the apartment with large windows—he could feel the cold draft coming in through them—and two rooms tucked towards the back. He immediately gravitated to the room furthest in the back. He didn’t like hearing the city at night, and he knew if he chose one of the rooms up front he’d never get a good night’s sleep. Then again, he seldom ever did. 
When he opened the room’s door, he dropped his bags and held his hands out to feel for the bed. It was in the center of the room, which he didn’t like, so he moved it to fit right in one of the corners. He pressed his hands on the mattress—brand new as the apartment listing said. And he knew it wasn’t a lie because he could smell the fresh, factory smell of the brand-new mattress. In fact, all the beds in the rooms had new mattresses, now that he could smell it in the air. 
There was a dresser against the other wall and a small closet. He didn’t have much to fill both up. In the other corner was a small work desk for homework. He began to unpack his books from his duffle bag and stacked them neatly on the desk. He ran his fingers over one of the titles in braille: Criminal Law & Procedure. 
The second year of law school is allegedly easier than the first. At least, this second year comes with more freedom, such as the option to live off campus rather than in one of the small dorms. At least his first year he got to meet his best friend: Foggy Nelson. 
Which, speaking of, he was bounding up the steps already with three bags he could barely carry by himself. 
“Matt!” He heard his friend shout from the steps, “Hey, Matt! You here yet?”
Matt met Foggy at the top of the stairs and laughed—he could hear the struggle in his friend’s voice. 
“Why don’t you stop laughin’ at me and grab a bag?!” 
After what felt like hours of going up and down the steps helping Foggy with his bags, and carrying a couch up into the living room, followed by a long goodbye from Foggy’s mom, Matt and Foggy plopped themselves on the couch in exhaustion. 
“Man,” Foggy groaned, “I didn’t know the apartment was on the top floor. I’m beat.”
“Maybe that’s why it was so cheap,” Matt thought, “no one wants to walk up those stairs.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Foggy answered. “Welp, guess I gotta pick a room. You don't think whoever we’re rooming with will mind we chose first, right?”
“Nah,” Matt shrugged, “the apartment listing said whoever gets here first picks. I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Alright. Where’s your room? I’ll pick the one next to it.”
  “I opted for the one farthest in the back,” Matt said, leaning over as Foggy got up to pick a room. He listened as Foggy shuffled between the rooms and moved his bags into his chosen space. 
Matt stayed on the couch, his hearing strayed to the noise that was outside the front windows. Naturally cocking his head, he could hear a local deli closing up for the evening. He could even smell the lingering scent of stale coffee. He heard people closer to Columbia University laughing and getting ready to go out to whatever frat party was going on that night. In the distance, he heard sirens wailing—for what reason, he didn’t know. He didn’t understand the ache that grew in his chest the longer he continued to listen to them. 
“Matt?” Foggy called for him, “You good?”
“Yeah,” Matt stammered. “What did you say?”
“I said let’s get dressed and find a local bar to hang at!” 
That didn’t take much convincing. 
✣✣✣✣
If Matt thought lugging suitcases up the flight of stairs was tough, he wasn’t prepared to walk up the stairs intoxicated. 
“Man, that was a terrible idea. Terrible idea you had,” Foggy slurred as he bumped into Matt on the stairs. Matt let out a laugh as he pushed Foggy back.
“My idea? It was your idea, you asshole,” Matt shot back playfully.
“Was it?” Foggy questioned, “Oh yeah, it was. God, how many stairs are there?”
Everything was spinning inside Matt’s head. He looked up behind his dark glasses and sensed the number of steps. 
“We have four flights left,” Matt said, pausing at the second floor and leaning against the wall.
“Jesus,” Foggy groaned. “Terrible, terrible idea, Matt.”
After fifteen minutes of an agonizingly drunk walk up the stairs, both Matt and Foggy finally made it to their new temporary home and collapsed on the couch at opposite ends. Matt let his head dip back on the couch while Foggy attempted to lift his legs on a spare moving box in front of him. Matt laughed at his attempts; he didn’t have to see to know his friend was struggling. 
“Hopefully our roommates will join us on future bar crawls,” Foggy said aloud. 
“Hopefully they don’t suck.”
“That too,” Foggy agreed. “I think—I think I’m going to call it a night, Matt. I’ll…I’ll talk to you…” and just like that, Foggy Nelson was snoring on the couch with his legs half-propped on a box. Matt forced himself to get up and move to his bed, not before putting a blanket over Foggy and turning the lights off. 
When Matt reached his room, his equilibrium was still making things seem spinning. He stumbled over his suitcase and duffle bag and caught himself on his bed, where he landed on his back. He threw his dark glasses on his desk and shut his eyes, using all his might to avoid listening to the sounds that lay outside the window. Putting himself in the back room was a good idea because it was much easier to ignore what he heard—more importantly, ignore how it made him feel. The liquor in him only swirled those feelings away. 
Matt turned on his side and reached for the Bible he kept under his pillow. He ran his fingers over the braille until he found a particular prayer he was looking for:
“Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen. Because of it the ancients were well attested. By faith we understand that the universe was ordered by the word of God, so that what is visible came into being through the invisible.” Hebrews 11:1-3.
Matt rested the Bible on his chest, mind drifting to things of his past, things he only kept hidden and locked away until he was completely alone with himself like he was now. It was heavy. Not the suitcase, not the way his legs felt walking up the steps inebriated, but the weight of the past, creeping up on him when he was alone. 
He fell heavily into a deep sleep. 
✣✣✣✣
Morning came, and so did his hangover. 
Matt was awakened by a knock on his door. Not his door, but the front door. A knock he would not have heard if not for his heightened senses. Throwing his dark glasses on, he rolled out of bed and walked into the living room. On the couch, Foggy still lay asleep, snoring. Matt’s head was pounding and his feet felt like cement as he stalked to the door, the knocking growing more erratic. 
When he opened the door, he was met with an overwhelming waft of sweet beery perfume and bubblegum. The person who stood in front of him—a young woman, he sensed—popped a bubble and clicked the gum inside her mouth. 
“Oh,” a squeaky voice said. “Are you a roomie?”
“Uh…“
“I’m Marci,” the young woman introduced herself. She held out her hand, but Matt made no move to shake it. 
“I’m—I’m Matt,” Matt said. He could sense the young woman’s candor by the way she pulled her hand back immediately and placed it on her hip. 
“Are you blind or are you hungover?” She clicked her gum again, taking note he was wearing dark glasses inside. 
Matt’s mouth twitched upwards. He wasn’t offended by her bluntness, only amused. 
“Both,” he simply said. 
“Hm,” she said, “well, I’m your new roomie.” she peered inside to see Foggy sleeping on the couch. “I’ll need help with my suitcases.”
And yet again, Matt was subjected to the torture of helping people bring their suitcases up the long flight of stairs. But if this was someone he was going to be living with for the next year, he thought it better to make friends and help than make enemies and refuse. Even if she was a little brash. 
“Matt?” Foggy groggily opened his eyes to the movement of boxes being lugged around. “Jesus!” Foggy said in the startling realization that Matt was no longer the only one he shared a space with. When he saw the beautiful blonde with her arms crossed and a look of judgment on her face, Foggy thought he might’ve woken up to an angel. 
“I’m Marci Stahl,” she popped her gum again. “Are you going to help bring my stuff up?”
“Absolutely,” Foggy stumbled to his feet, ignoring the spins he felt. Matt suppressed a chuckle as he placed the final box (he decided it was the final box for him now that Foggy was awake) on the ground. Now, it was up to Foggy.
Well, Foggy couldn’t completely help Marci yet before making a trip to the bathroom and yakking up the previous night’s regrets. Marci waited in the hall with her arms crossed. When Foggy met her outside again, he smiled awkwardly as Marci told him where her remaining boxes were. She had her mother waiting outside as well, who couldn’t be bothered to help bring up boxes. 
Matt took this as an opportunity to lock himself in his room and boot up his Orbit Reader to learn of his new schedule, starting Monday. He scrolled to find his classes and their descriptions, and what books he would need for class. With one earplug in, he listened as it read it to him. But not even the Orbit could help drown out Foggy’s attempts at flirting with Marci.
✣✣✣✣
“You’re not so bad, aren’t you?” Marci asked with suspicious eyes at Foggy. Foggy offered a hearty laugh and sat down on a pink velvet love cushion that belonged to Marci. She took a seat at the end of the couch, closest to Foggy. 
“What do you mean?” Foggy shrugged his shoulders, a goofy grin on his face. His long blonde hair peeked out under his green beanie. He had a terrible goatee, but for some reason, made him all the more endearing. 
“Well, we’re all going to be living together this year. Glad the co-ed space I chose has someone willing to carry all my boxes up the steps without complaint. And you’re not an asshole,” Marci rested her elbow on the arm of the couch, studying Foggy carefully. 
“What can I say? I’m pretty charming,” Foggy smiled.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Marci smirked. 
Matt sat at his desk laughing to himself as he listened to their conversation. 
“What are you studying? You’re a grad student?” Foggy asked, ignoring her retort. 
Marci looked at him like it was an obvious question. “I’m in the law school.” 
“Really?! No way!” Foggy exclaimed. “That’s what we’re here for, too. 2L?”
“Of course,” Marci said. “I wouldn’t be here if it were my first year.”
“Hey, maybe it was your third. I don’t know. What kind of law do you want to do?”
“IP, corporate, civil rights,” Marci shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll let it find me.”
“Badass,” Foggy nodded his head in amusement. Marci chuckled and rolled her eyes. 
“What’s up with your friend in there? Why hasn’t he joined us?”
“You’re right,” Foggy agreed. “Matt! Get your ass outta there and come bond with your roommates!”
Matt sighed and leaned back in his uncomfortable wooden chair. It was only a matter of time before he was summoned to socialize. He shut down his Orbit Reader and joined them in the living room, reaching in front of him to find the other end of the couch. 
“Well, I’m here,” Matt simply said with a small smile. He wasn’t really sure what to say.
“You’re the moody one, aren’t you?” Marci said with slight amusement, resting her chin in her hand. Matt chuckled.
“I wouldn’t say moody,” Matt scratched the back of his neck. “Uhh. Maybe I would, actually.”
“Every friendship duo has to have one. Clearly, your friend Foggy here is the opposite,” Marci teased. “My friend is like you, too. Quite type. Locks herself in her room. She should be here soon,” Marci thought aloud.
Matt quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, “Is she our fourth roommate?”
“Sure is. Let me call her real quick.” Marci got up and into her chosen room, the one in the front with the largest windows. 
Now that it was just Foggy and Matt, Foggy immediately bounded over to sit next to Matt on the couch and squeezed his arm.
“Dude, did we get lucky or what?!” Foggy shout whispered. “Rooming with two chicks?!”
Matt pushed his friend away with a laugh, “Foggy, don’t be like that, that’s gross. We’re supposed to be roommates.”
Foggy held his hands up in defense, “I’m just sayin’ man, let things run their course. Oh man, she’s beautiful. Blonde, has sharp features and—“
“Shh,” Matt hushed his friend. “She just got off the phone.”
“She’ll be here in ten minutes,” Marci announced as she walked back into the living. She paused as she noticed how close Matt and Foggy were sitting. “What were you guys talking about?”
“Nothing,” they said in unison, feigning innocence. 
✣✣✣✣
While Foggy and Marci were exchanging life stories and their experiences studying to get into law school, Matt let his senses drift to focus on what else was going on in the building. He didn't want to engage in conversation, especially if the topic was backstories. He wasn’t ashamed of his upbringing at all, nor was he ashamed of where he grew up after his dad died, but he couldn’t deal with the reactions or sympathy his story inevitably brought out of people. He just didn’t feel like dealing with it with Marci, especially given how well her and Foggy’s conversation was already going. What did he have to add to it other than a tragic accident? 
A cool draft floated through the stairs, finding its way in any open creak or door in the building. Some of their downstairs neighbors were still moving in. In another room, someone was twisting a bottle of white wine open. Another attempted to hang a picture frame. Matt could hear the banging of the hammer on the second floor, the vibrations against the wall. He had to hide his grimace when he heard a chair squeak on the hardwood floor. 
Despite these sounds that no one else could hear, Matt had high hopes for the near future. He imagined late-night studying and sleeping in on weekends. He imagined sneaking into frat parties with Foggy and ending the night at local dive bars. 
When he heard the front door open, something shifted in the entire building. Something that caused Matt to move forward on the couch ever so slightly to hear better. The cold draft was replaced by a warmth in the air, followed by the ever-so-faint scent of lavender. Accompanied by the smell was an equally faint heartbeat. This person wasn’t nervous, they were content. He heard them sigh, and at this sound, Matt confirmed he was listening to a young woman. She too had a shoulder bag and suitcase she was lugging around, nothing else. No boxes filled with decorations or other extra things. No family dropped her off. 
Just her. 
She walked up the steps, one by one, and Matt could hear the pauses she took from the amount of stairs. His mouth twitched into a smile, fascinated that she was equally surpassed by the amount of stairs. It was clear that she was their fourth roommate, and it was confirmed when Matt heard her dial a number in her phone and Marci’s began to vibrate. 
“Are you here?” Marci asked through the phone immediately. 
“Yeah,” her friend breathed, “but I didn’t realize how many stairs there were! I’ll be up in five minutes if I’m lucky.”
“Do you need help with your bags? We luckily have two strong, burly men to do any heavy lifting we need,” Marci winked at Foggy. 
“No, I’m okay. I just have two bags. I’ll be right up.”
Marci squealed when she hung up the phone. “She’s here! Let me get the door for her.” 
As Marci walked over to open the front door, both Matt and Foggy stood up from their seats and awaited their fourth roommate’s arrival. Foggy waited like an excited puppy as he watched Marci lean in the doorway for her friend. Matt stood awkwardly, terrible at first encounters. He kept his hands in his pockets and tilted his head low, feeling more comfortable behind his dark glasses and chocolate brown hair that fell right over his eyes. The scent of lavender grew stronger the closer she made it to the apartment. 
And when she walked in, no longer did Matt hear the creak in the wood, the downstairs neighbors’ chatter, the outside city noises. No longer did he feel the cool draft from outside, or his own nervous heart beating in his chest. All of his senses, and all of his focus, were on her. The one other roommate who showed up alone, with no family, with nothing but two bags, and possibly an equally lonely heart. 
TAGS: @marvelcinematiquniverse
129 notes · View notes
chxrrysangel · 2 years
Text
“Studying”
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Relationship | college!Matt Murdock x dom!reader
Warnings | 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, sub!Matt x dom!fem reader, Matt’s a virgin (so so innocent and such a needy boy), protected sex (be safe y’all), oral sex (m receiving), edging, dacryphilia, Matt’s clueless but eager, breath play, budding mommy kink, many pet names, marking + hickies, some fluff
Summary | Tonight was the last time you and Matt would study together, much to your dismay. Nothing had happened between the two of you, no matter the flirting or touches. Someone had to make a move.
“See it’s quite simple actually. It’s not about the truth necessarily, but how convincing you can be. And the second you cast doubt, the ball is in your court.”
You nodded in understanding, finding Matt’s teaching to be remarkably good for someone your age. Matt smirked to himself, causing you to told your head in confusion. What’s so funny?
“By your silence, I’m guessing you understood.”
Your heart sank upon realization. You forgot he couldn’t see. Your face grew hot as you choked out a small yes. I’m never gonna live this down, what a dumbass. Matt chuckled, easing some of your horror.
“It’s alright, promise. Sometimes even I forget and end up hurting myself.” The air was much lighter in the room now.
You helped Matt pack up his things, not wanting him to leave but lacking reason to make him stay. This was your final study session and despite the light touches and flirting, nothing happened between the two of you. A familiar heavy feeling sat at the bottom of your stomach, regret. I should’ve had a better plan. Just as he was reading to leave, Matt sat back down on the bed and turned to you.
“Now that you understand everything, help me out with something really quickly.” You leaned closer, intrigued by whatever was going on in that gorgeous head of his.
“Why do you need my help when you’re just a few point behind me on the class ranking…that would indicate you understand just fine. No?”
Now’s my chance.
You put your hand in Matt’s leg, stopping at his mid thigh. Your fingers brushed the halfway point between platonic and romantic, standing delicately on the line of the point of no return.
“This isn’t about studying at all, is it?” You murmured in agreement, watching his cheeks burn at your confession.
“Not even a little.”
Thoughts raced through Matt’s head, wondering what exactly to do. The two of you had reached a point of unfamiliarity for him, not that he could say so. You reached a hand over to his face, brushing your fingers through his hair and dancing them down his neck.
“Matt, baby, do you know why I asked for you help?”
He was, for the first time in a while, silent. He shook his head nonetheless, unable to produce words. Your lips brushed against his earlobe, sending a shiver up his spine.
“I want you Matthew.” Matt’s brain was barely working at this point, to caught up in how warm and tingly you were making him feel.
“Do you want me Matthew?” Your thumb brushing against his jugular was pathetically distracting, stopping him from answering. You waited patiently, not wanting to rush him. You pushed the boundary a little further, moving your hand barely a couple centimeters upward. The shy boy gasped.
“Please,” he whispered. It made you smile.
“Please what, Matthew?”. You were teasing him now, both of you knew that. But he liked it. So he’d play your game as long as he needed in order to get relief from whatever this feeling was.
“Touch me.” His consent was all you needed go go after what you wanted. Your hand inched further up his trousers as you climbed over him, straddling his legs
“Matty, you have no idea how badly I’ve needed you. You palmed him through the thick material of his pants, watching his hips rut against your hands like a horny teenage boy. So needy.
“Can I take your pants off?”. Immediately Matt nodded, eager for whatever you were willing to give. You unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down and throwing them somewhere on the other side of the room. Right now, you were thanking every god you could name that you never got a suit mate. You wanted to take your time, no interruptions.
Matt was acting in a way he never thought possible. From the tips of his ears to the bottom of his toes, he burned. He could hardly breathe, being sent further over the edge every time your fingertips brushed against his skin. You stared at the outline of his dick through his boxers, mouth watering. Your stomach swirled with excitement thinking about all the ways this night could unfurl, each possibility more enticing that the last. But, you’ll have to wait because playing with the eager man before you came first.
“I’m gonna take off your shirt now. That okay?” Something between a whine and a breathy yes escaped Matt’s lips, which only made you want him more. Your warm hands climbed up his abs at an agonizingly slip pace, before gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling it over his head. You rubbed your hands up and down his horse, trying to commit every square inch to memory somehow. Matt’s breath got increasingly short the longer you touched him. If it weren’t for the headboard behind him, his head might’ve lolled back in agony and anticipation.
You enjoyed playing with the boy before you, watching how reactive he was to your touch. You pulled down his boxers, watching his cock spring up and slap against his stomach. Fuck me god. The wait leading up to this moment didn’t seem so bad after all. Your fingers brushed along the shaft for no more that a second, causing Matt to flinch.
“You okay?” It took a moment for him to catch his breath before he answered.
“Yeah, perfectly fine.” His voice sound strained, almost like he was fighting off the urge to cum already.
You held his throbbing cock in your hands, the top red and leaking with precum. Tentatively, you licked up the underside, stopping just before the head. Matt moaned like he was touched starved his entire life, piqueing your interest. With a firm but gentle grip, you rubbed your hand up and down the shaft as you watching his reactions.
“You’ve never done this before, have you Matty?” Your tone dripped with knowing, but you wanted to hear him say it anyways.
“No,” he choked out between moans.
“Do you like what I’m doing? Am I making you feel good baby?” You licked the precum off his tip, sucking on the head for a brief moment while continuing your movements. Matt was breathing like every intake was life-saving.
“Ungh. Shit so good.” The way he could barely get the words out was your favorite part by far. He was so desperate and you loved seeing him fall apart. He didn’t even care about cursing or using the lord’s name in vain.
Matt felt his body buzzing, so overcome with pleasure that his head was cloudy. He has no idea what he was doing, just following your lead. The one thing he did know what that it felt good. Your mouth was so warm around him and each glide of your tongue made it harder to breathe. His hips rutted but you held them down. A desperate little thing he was. He wondered if you could hear how fast his heart was beating, it was that loud. You began to deep throat him, fondling his balls as he gasped and whimpered. He ached, feeling his balls tighten.
The one thing about losing a sense is that all of the others became hightened. So every brush of skin felt like setting his nerves on fire and each blow of breath gave his entire body chills. Matt was much more sensitive than the average person, you realized, which would come to be an advantage.
“Please, oh god. Please. Please,” he begged. All he was sure of was that he didn’t want you to stop. Your spit acted as lube, the slickness pushing Matt closer to orgasm.
“You wanna cum Matty?” Your hands continued stroking him as you watched him struggle to find words. Poor baby looked tapped out already. He was in for a long night then.
“Please. Need it.”
“Not until I say so. Hold on just a little longer. Think you can do that for me baby?”. He obliged to your request, as painful as it was. You knew it was torture for him and it made you feel quite a bit guilty. But the way he pleaded for release was too good to give up just yet.
His skin was on fire, or at least that’s what it felt like. He felt as though his brain might burst at any moment. You pushed his dick down your throat a bit farther, enjoying the way he struggled not to cum. He cried for release, begging you to let him cum.
“Please Angel, I want it. I’ll do anything. I’m begging you.” Poor Matt was close to tears, if not already. He wanted to be good for you, but it was harder than he thought.
You lips disconnected from his cock with a pop, earning a wine from him. The anger and frustration in his blood simmered like a boiling pot, nearing the edge. How much more he could take, he wasn’t sure. But the possibilities running through his head kept him at bay.
With mischief on your mind, you straddled his legs and began to shift ever so slightly. You knew that with the right movements you’d get him worked up to the point of being putty in your hands. Matt looked in your general direction like a lost puppy in a daze. His big brown eyes fought hard to not roll back in pleasure as you ground your hips against his aching cock.
“Angel,” he begged. He was breathless, even when not much had happened yet.
“Yes Matty?”. You were acting coy, wanting to hear him say how badly he wanted you.
“I need you.”
“Need me to what?” You ground your clit against the head of his cock, soliciting a strained moan from his lips. That, along with the combination of your lips sucking beautiful bruises into his neck, gave Matt a difficult time focusing.
“Fuck me Angel. Please.” Your teeth grazed along his collarbone, causing a chill go run up his spine. Back up his neck and towards his mouth, you hovered over his lips to tease him. Matt leaned in to kiss you and you leaned further back. He let out a breath of frustration at your denial and guilt started to eat at you.
You leaned in just as he looked ready to give up, catching his lips between your teeth and biting down softly. He responded quickly, making movements to kiss you. Matt was rather hesitant at first, trying to understand the mechanics of what was happening. But he caught on quickly, chasing after your lips like a starved man. He hands roamed all over your body, trying to memorize every roll and stretch mark to trace his fingers along again and again. He moaned into your mouth, making you want him more. If that even were possible.
In between kisses, you reached between your bodies and wrapped your fingers around his cock. He needed you, more than he’s ever needed anyone of anything.
“Matty, you gonna let me fuck you?”
“God please.”
You blindly fished around in the top drawer for a condom, praying you had the right size. Eventually, your fingers wrapped around a certain foil wrapper you brain memorized the details of. Matt could barely contain himself as you rolled the condom on, he was that needy.
“Shh soon, just hold on ok?” The wrapper ended up somewhere on the ground, to be picked up later when you remembered. All that you cared around right now was a pretty brown eyed boy begging you to be fucked. Slowly you sank down onto his cock, watching as you both got lost in one another.
“Fuuck me,” you said in unison. He was surprisingly big, but even the pain was pleasurable.
Matt didn’t think something could ever feel so good. The way your walls wrapped around him was like heaven on Earth. All that was running through his mind was how warm your pussy felt, and they way you moaned his name with each grind of your hips.
“Fuck, Matty. So good.” He raised his hips to meet your thrusts, hitting a spot your forgot existed. Matt’s whimpers and pleads were like music to your ears.
“Please, oh god fuck.” The only relevant feeling was pleasure, and Matt wanted it to last as long as possible. Your legs were beginning to get tired, so you slowed the pace to grinding against him.
Delicately you threaded your hand through his hair, stopping just short of the root and pulled. Matt groaned in pleasure, making your throb.
“You’ve got a pain kink Matt,” you whispered against his lips.
“I guess I do.” Matt seemed to grow more confident as time passed, initiating a kiss between the two of you. His warm hand reached for your neck, his finger tips pressed against the sides of your neck. He could feel the blood pumping through your body and how fast your heart was beating. Your hand wrapped around his, pushing his fingers into your neck. The lightheaded feeling brought your body closer to orgasm. You disconnected your lips, making Matt confused.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No baby, I want you to get on top. Think you can do that for me?”
Matt was a remarkably obedient guy, so he did just as he was told. The change in position was welcome to your tired legs, and excitement buzzed through your veins. Though on top, the two of you both knew who was really in charge here. Matt took his time trying to find your entrance, bottoming out immediately like he couldn’t wait any longer.
You could hear his pained breaths as he tucked his head into the crook of your neck to kiss your shoulder. As a virgin, you knew how much of an effort he was making to last long for you. It was impressive really. Your hands found their way to his hair, stroking the strands. Matt could barely take it anymore, you made him feel too good.
Matt’s senses are at an all time high, and everything feels so sensitive. The feeling of your g-spot rubs against the head of his cock, practically pleading to him to cum for you. The memory of your moans rings in his ears. It’s all too much yet not enough. He presses his lips into your neck, biting and sucking on the skin like you did to him earlier. Slowly he begins to thrust into you, trying to find a good rhythm. He has no idea what he’s doing, so he listens to your reactions for guidance.
“Fuck Matty feels good. So fucking good. Please, need more.”
He rolls his hips into yours, praying to every god he knew of to not let him cum just yet. His strokes are slow but forceful, like he’s getting a feel for your body. Over time his thrusts become faster, his body begging for more stimulation. He wanted to somehow bind his soul to yours, connecting each and every one of your cells.
You moved your hips to meet his, begging in his ear to feel every part of him. The shy boy with shoulder-length hair he always tucked behind his ears was no more. Gone was his hesitation to be vocal. You knew your neighbors were hating your guts at the moment, but you weren’t in the least bit concerned. The world was made of just the two of you right now.
You pulling Matt’s head up by his hair with your free hand, trying to kiss him. It was barely a kiss, you knew that, but feeling close to him was everything you could ever want. The combination of your fingers on your clit and Matt fucking the life out of your body, neither of you would last much longer. The way your walls squeezed him was pure bliss.
“Matt, gonna cum for me baby?”
“Yes. God yes.”
His thrusts began to lose their rhythm as your stomach began to tighten with the edge of your climax.
“So good Matty. Make me cum. Fuck.”
No more than a few seconds passed by before both of you were crying out each other’s names in a moment of honest pleasure. Matt’s body collapsed on top of you but you didn’t mind. Your fingers curls through the sweaty strands as you both caught your breaths.
“Can we study together tomorrow?”
You laughed at his quip, kissing him on his temple and agreeing with his request.
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Text
|| Listen ||
College!Matt Murdock x female reader
Warnings: E 18+ voice kink, masturbation, airhumping, cumming untouched. Oh my.
Author's note: thanks college Matt ppl who enabled this without even knowing @mindidjarin @prettyeyesnof4ce @briefcasejuice
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He settles back on his bed, headphones on, hands folded behind his neck after pressing 'play' on the recording.
Foggy had his Punjabi class so he had at least an hour alone. An hour alone with your voice.
He'd heard of ASMR, and how certain sound textures could have a strong stimulating effect on some people.
Listening to you read the study notes you'd taped for him shouldn't make him react this way but there was no doubt, you definitely made him feel something.
He'd been so surprised when you had offered to help with your latest assignment, and he'd tried his best to assure you he could catch up himself, but now he was so glad you had insisted.
"Hey Matty," he could picture the smile in your bright, warm greeting, and hear your slight giggle as you got over the initial embarrassment of talking to yourself, making him smile too.
He listens attentively, lips slowly pulling into a grin as you outlined your ideas and built your arguments with such inspiring passion and drive. You're so creative, sharp, and funny, and your voice, well, that was just another thing that drew him to spend more time with you. He could listen to you talk all day,
As your recording went on, Matt found he was concentrating less on what you were saying and rather more on how you were saying it. Your voice surrounded him via the headphones, the back of his brain tickled by your silky tone, and shamefully, it didn't stop there.
His mind wandered, thinking about you saying particular types of things, what you might say if you were to be in the room right now, seeing just how you affected him. His cock twitched, swelling as he found himself imagining the sounds you'd make under him.
He reaches down, palming his half-hard cock. He shouldn't be doing this but he can't help himself, he's a dirty fuck, abusing your kindness, no better than some of those sleezy jocks across campus.
He can't help it, it's only natural anyway isn't it? And besides he's not cum in over a week, too busy or in too much company to be able to relax and release. But now, with your unintentionally (?) teasing tone he's pulling up his shirt and pushing the waistband of his grey sweats down just enough, cock springing up to slap against his lower abs. He tentatively rocks his hips once or twice, a small moan partially contained in his throat as the swollen head of it rubs over his skin.
Both of his hands are down at his sides now, fingers gripping the covers that he's lying on top of as he pretends to himself that it doesn't count if he doesn't actually touch himself directly. God it feels good, no, it doesn't count if he thrusts his hips just so, over and over. He can't be overly vigorous as he knows it makes the bed creak a little, and he's paranoid that someone in the next room might hear, but not concerned enough to stop.
You sound so sweet, and he would bet what little money he had that you'd sound so incredibly sexy if you would let him touch you, let him fuck you.
His breathing quickens with every other thrust, and he's wet, a slick dribble of precum spreading from side to side as his cock rolls and slaps against his tensed belly.
F-fuck… he whispers, rutting up into the air as he listens to you swear as you try to find your place in your notes after you went off on a tangent, the pleasure increasing like a pressure pot. He bites down on his lip in an attempt to curb the moans he wants to make, hips jerking in the steady rhythm that he's found that drives his orgasm closer.
What was it you were saying? How he needs to have some confidence in his ability, that you love how much he values the power of the truth. Will you value him confessing to you about this? He's so close, he has to pretend to himself that you'd be flattered, that you'd be turned on because you feel the same way.
Oh my god. He clutches to that thought, to you catching him in this very act.
Matty, what are you doing?
Can I help?
Please, Matt, I want this…
His mouth is dry, he swallows, gasping. His feet press against the mattress as his hips fly up in ragged jolts as he fantasizes the soft plush press of your pretty chest and the tight wet heat of your cunt.
He grips onto the edges of the bed, his breath quietly shuddering in tandem with the warm, sticky stripes of cum spurting from his twitching cock landing across his exposed stomach and chest, some of it undoubtedly soaking into the hem of his shirt.
You're still talking, laughing again as he swears under his shortened breath, cock throbbing and you wrap up, saying you'll see him soon.
He rips the headphones off, still laying there. His hands are clean, he didn't touch. He grabs a towel from the nearby chair and wipes away the mess. He didn't touch.
He just… listened.
Tags: @phoebe-danvers @saintmurd0ck @mindidjarin @castlesnchurches @peterman-spideyparker @pastafossa @mattmurdocksscars @mattmurdockspainkink @marvelswh0re @munsonownsmyass
@hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @briefcasejuice @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @insanelyobsessedwithdilfs @e-dubbc11 @father4giveme @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @imperfxctly-me @stress--relief @murnsondock @stupidthoughtsinwriting @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @m0nster-fvcker @i-simp-much @creativepromptsforwriting @echos-muses
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j-eryewrites · 1 year
Text
Til We Meet Again
MAIN MASTER LIST | REQS OPEN
Word Count: 6.k
Pairings: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, Matthew Murdock
I wrote this out of my current/renewed Matt Murdock obsession. I most definitely could write a part 2/entire series based on this one-shot, so if any of you would like to encourage my current crush and desire to write about Matt, plz do...XD
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“Come on, babes,” begged Cameron. Her wrist bobbed up and down to pump the mascara wand in and out of the bottle. She pulled the wand out, covered in the black cosmetic. The dark shade was a stark contrast to her vibrant lime-green hair. A spontaneous decision of the past week. A spontaneous decision of many that decorated her body. 
Y/N chuckled as she watched her best friend put on her mascara face: Jaw slack and open showcasing the tongue piercing from two months ago, her coffee-coloured eyes wide, and eyebrows raised impossibly high. 
“It’s your last chance to have real fun. Hon,” chimed Cameron. She turned around and leaned against the counter in the bathroom. Her bright orange slip dress turned sour the longer Y/N looked at it. “You’ve never been to a college party. Hell, you’ve never been to college. You’ve spent your entire life dancing and now you’re flying off to Copenhagen.” Cameron waved her free hand up and feigned dramatically. “You’ll leave me behind as you dance among the stars. Forever forgetting your best friend.” 
“Drama queen,” giggled Y/N. “I won’t forget you. How could I ever!” Y/N jumped up from her seat on Cameron’s bed matching Cameron’s dramatic energy. 
Cameron chuckled and swirled around to look back into the mirror. “Can you see my spanks?” Cameron asked as she lifted the dress lightly giving way to the neon blue shorts underneath. 
“Nope,” Y/N said entering the bathroom. She began to peruse Cameron’s makeup bag. Her nose scrunched up as she looked at the lipstick colours her friend had. 
“Ooh! Sex on the beach! My favourite colour.” Cameron exclaimed and she snatched it from Y/N’s hands. 
“Sex on the beach? Really?” 
“It’s a beautiful colour, babes,” Cameron said with a smack of her lips. She offered it to Y/N. “Wanna try it?” 
Y/N looked up from the brilliant yellow lipstick with a quizzical expression on her face and shook her head. It was too bold for her. The boldest shade Y/N had ever put on her lips was black and that was for her role as the Black Swan in her ballet school’s production of Swan Lake. 
“I’ll stick to chapstick, thanks.” 
“Your loss.” Cameron hummed. The woman began to check herself out in the mirror. She pursed her lips and popped her hip to the side. “How do I look?”
“You look like a slushy,” Y/N replied bluntly. 
“Perfect, Babes!” Cameron blew Y/N a kiss. “That’s what I was going for. Everyone loves a sexy slushy.”
Y/N giggled at Cameron’s comments. The giggle turned into a laugh which spread to Cameron. 
 “Okay, chica, be honest,” Cameron said, collecting herself. “From a scale of the Goonies to Dirty Dancing, how sexy am I?”
Y/N looked her friend up and down. “Depends on what shoes you’re gonna wear.” She replied. 
Cameron chuckled and ran into her room. She swung open her closet doors and pulled out two pairs of shoes. One pair was her party tennis shoes; white vans with beer stains. The other was a pair of six-inch black heels, the ones she wore to her pole dancing classes. 
“Okay,” Y/N said. “If you go with the vans, then you’ll be a Top Gun sexy and if you go with the heels you’ll be a Rocky Horror Picture Show kind of hot.” 
A wide grin flashed on Cameron’s face. “This is why you’re my best friend, babes.” Cameron looked between the shoes and settled on the heels. She tossed the tennis shoes into the closet. “Rocky Horror Sexy it is,” she winked. 
Y/N smiled as her friend put on the heels. Now, Cameron stood an inch taller than Y/N, something Cameron took pride in. 
“Your turn honeybuns,” Cameron sang. 
Y/N shook her head. “I’m not going, Cameron. I have an international flight tomorrow and I’m going to need all the sleep I can get. “
Cameron began to whine. Her eyes fell and widened to a size that would make a cartoon character jealous. “Please?” 
“Cameron…” Y/N said warningly. Her face betrayed the determination in her voice as she smiled at her friend's antics. 
“We can get Wendy’s...AND” Cameron began. “You can pick which songs we listen to on the drive over to the party AND back.” 
Y/N dropped her head back with a sigh and looked up at the ceiling. She groaned and rolled her head around to back at Cameron and her puppy eyes. 
“Fine, I’ll go.” 
Cameron squealed and jumped up and down. Her hands clapped loudly as she had just received the best news of her life. 
“I have the perfect dress!”
“No…” Y/N began but Cameron had already shoved a mesh, basically see-through, dress into Y/N’s hands. “I’m not wearing this.” 
Cameron frowned. 
“Cam, there is no way in hell, I’ll be wearing this. Besides, I have my own clothes.” 
Cameron sighed as Y/N showed her friend the light blue slip dress she had packed. It shimmered in the moon on a dark night. It was beautiful and definitely something one would not wear to a college party–a college party at a frat house. 
“You’ll look like a mother-fucking princess. Babes,” Cameron whines, “we’re supposed to look like whores together.” 
Y/N rolled her eyes. “I refuse to wear the dress. It’s either I look like a princess, or I’m not going.”
Cameron growled and then caved into her friend’s request. Y/N smiled as she changed into the dress. Her soft hands ran over the silky dress. She turned around to show Cameron and her friend smiled.
 “I take it back. That’s Dirty Dancing hot, chica.” Cameron commented. 
Y/N smiled and looked in the mirror. She really did look beautiful. “Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” Y/N winked. 
“Speaking of, baby.” Cameron chimed. “You need some makeup with that outfit. Ooo, and a fun hairdo!” 
“Cameron…”
“I wasn’t asking.” Sensing her friend’s reluctance she continued, “I promise I won’t give you crazy makeup. Just enough to highlight your beautiful face and I’ll, ooo, curl your hair. You wear it in buns all the time. It’s time you show off your gorgeous locks.”
Y/N smiled at her friend and then hopped onto the counter. Y/N's legs swayed as Cameron brushed her cosmetic products on her friend’s face. The two of them chatted, belting songs, and having some pre-game drinks. The two of them felt as if this night would for sure be a night to remember. 
___________
“Come on Matt. It’s gonna be a night to remember. Finals are over. One more year of college done. One step closer to Nelson and Murdock,” Foggy raised the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Matt’s shoulder to motion to the imaginary business sign. “Nelson and Murdock,” Foggy whispered for dramatic effect. 
Matt laughed at his friend’s actions. Clearly, Foggy did a little bit too much pre-partying in their dorm. The blond was already leaning on Matt making it hard for him to walk straight on the sidewalk and not into the busy road. 
“Alright Foggy, a night to remember,” Matt smirked, sensing Foggy’s grin growing wider. 
“That’s the spirit.” Foggy slapped Matt on the shoulder and brought him in for a side hug. The two of them laughed as Foggy narrowly missed walking straight into a street lamp. 
“Now, Matt.” Foggy stepped in front of Matt and placed his hands on Matt’s shoulders. “I want you to find a girl and let out some steam. You’re too stress-addicted for your own good.”
“Foggy…” Matt began before Foggy shushed him. 
“No, listen to me Murdock,” a smile grew on Foggy’s face. “You’re gonna have fun tonight. Promise  me.” Foggy stuck out his pinky finger to Matt. 
“I promise Fog,” Matt said. Foggy smiled and grabbed Matt’s hand. His pinky finger pinched Matt’s and the promise was made. 
It wasn’t long before Matt and Foggy heard the sounds of the party. Music was blaring from the speakers scattered all over the lawn and house. People were laughing, screeching, dancing, chatting, and drunkenly singing. Matt’s nose scrunched up in disgust; those weren’t the only sounds he could hear. Matt could hear the buzzing of the house lights, the heartbeats of a few hundred people crammed into one space, the way the floor thundered and echoed footsteps, the bass of the song, the stickiness of the beer stuck to the bottoms of people’s shoes. His head already began to hurt and he knew it was worse when he’d be in the crowd. He’d smell, feel, hear, and taste everything. How could he not? 
“London Fog! M&M! You made it,” a young man exclaimed. He ran over to Foggy and Matt gave big bear hugs. Matt offered a smile to try and hide his disgust from the man’s smell. Matt could smell his cologne, and traces of a woman’s perfume. He could also smell that the man before him had five cups of an alcoholic mixture: Beer, vodka, and Smirnoff. He could also smell the cigarette he had taken a few hours ago. 
“How’s it been, Bryan?” Foggy asked, his words already slurred as they rolled off his tongue.
“It’s been a fucking riot. Cameron, man…she’s something.” Bryan’s face flushed red. “The dress she’s wearing.”
“I can see,” Foggy noted. “Man, that’s a bright orange.” Foggy opened his eyes wider and then blinked. “Now my eyes hurt. Too many bright colours.” He turned to Matt. “Only Cameron could pull off lime green hair, neon yellow lipstick, and an orange dress.” 
Matt smiled and nodded his head. He remembered Cameron from one of his Spanish classes. She had walked into class the first day, took one look at the board, and just left. He couldn’t recall her coming to a single class yet she had one of the best grades. A chaotic genius to say the least. Before he knew it, Bryan had wrapped an arm around Matt’s shoulder. The other arm was linked around Foggy.  Then Bryan guided the two of them into the party. 
The minute Matt stepped through the door and into the heart of the party, the pounding in his head amplified. Bryan had dragged them to the kitchen and handed him and Foggy a red plastic cup. The alcohol mixture Matt had smelled earlier. Foggy lifted his head back and downed the drink in one go. Matt just took a sip before placing it back down on the counter. 
Foggy had spotted Marci on the dance floor and excused himself. Bryan got dragged by another group and began taking shots in the dining room. Matt, on the other hand, began to swerve his way through the crowd. Everything became muffled and Matt had a hard time differentiating between his senses. He occasionally bumped into party-goers, their alcohol-ridden scent sticking to him. He needed to get out and away from the party. His pace picked up and he manoeuvred through the crowd colliding with more people. Suddenly, he came to a stop. There was a room next to him. It was quieter than the rest of the house and from what he could tell, no one was in there. He fumbled for the doorknob and burst into the room. A bathroom, he soon realized, as he closed the door. He found his way over to the sink and began to wash his hands. He splashed the cold water on his face. His senses finally came back to him and the thick walls of the bathroom tuned out the noise. 
That’s when he heard it. It started out with a heartbeat. He could tell it was young and healthy as it thumped to a graceful melody. Then he heard the rustling of satin on the skin. It sounded so soft as the fabric ran up against the skin. Afterwards, there was a smell. It was so sweet, the smell of rain and lavender that was not too overpowering. It reminded him of Hell’s Kitchen in the spring when the church would grow lavender in the community garden. The smell carried through the air and Matt froze. The water from the sink was still running. He wasn’t the only one in the bathroom. 
___________
“Umm,” the voice mumbled. He tilted his head in the direction of the sound. It came from a young woman. “Hello.” She said. 
Matt turned around. His cane and glasses were fully on show. “Hello?” He responded. His head moved side to side. He already knew where she was, but she didn’t know that. 
“Oh, you’re…”
He smiled softly. “Blind. Yeah.” He shrugged. 
The two of them stood there not knowing what to say. Matt suddenly remembered where they were. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize…” he began to apologize. 
“You’re fine. I was just stepping away from the party for a moment. I was just about to go back out.” She motioned to the door before realizing Matt couldn’t actually see her. Her head smacked her forehead. “I just pointed to the door…I’m gonna go,” she mumbled. 
As she walked past Matt he noticed the absence of alcohol. She hadn’t drunk anything and the sound of her heartbeat made Matt think that she didn’t want to rejoin the party anytime soon. Matt reached out to stop her. 
“You don’t have to go. I’m just taking a breather like you.” 
She turned around and smiled at him softly. “No, it’s alright. Plus, I’m sure my friend is wondering where I am right now.” She turned away and turned the doorknob. Only that it didn’t turn. Instead, the knob detached from the door, clattering against the stone tile of the bathroom floor. 
“Fuck,” cursed the woman. 
Matt moved his head in her direction. “What happened? I heard something bang against the floor.”
“Uh…” the woman faltered as she bent down to grab the door knob. She picked it up, walked over to Matt, and placed it in his hand. Her fingers brushed against his hand and Matt felt as if his hand was afire. He ran his hands over the cool door knob and then sighed. He smiled to himself at the gesture. 
“Yeah, the door knob fell off. Which is just great.” She muttered. Her voice grew tight and nervous. 
Matt placed the door knob down and then remembered the water in the sink was still running. He quickly turned it off and tried to offer the woman some words of comfort. “I’m sure someone will come looking. Right? You said your friend was…”
“I lied. She’s busy with some guy and drunk off her ass. She wouldn’t be able to help us. You?”
Matt shook his head. The woman sighed. “My friend was already wasted when we got to the party.”
The woman groaned and slid to the floor. She tucked her knees in close. “Perfect. I’m gonna miss my flight tomorrow,” she muttered under her breath clearly so Matt wouldn’t hear, but he did. 
“I’m sure everything will be alright.” He crouched down to the floor and leaned up against the sink cabinets. 
The woman’s heartbeat continued to beat faster and Matt was sure she’d die of a heart attack if he didn’t find some way to calm her down. 
“I’m Matt,” he blurted out. He felt his face heat up as the woman replied back. 
“Y/N.” 
“What year are you?” He found himself asking. 
“Huh?” Y/N replied. 
Matt cleared his throat. “What year of school are you in?”
“Oh,” Y/N said, “I’m not a student. Just a friend visiting a friend for a bit.”
Matt tilted his head at the words. “You don’t go to Columbia?” 
“Nope,” Y/N muttered. 
“Then why are you here at an end-of-year frat party?” Matt asked with a teasing tone. He could already hear her heartbeat returning back to its tranquil melody. 
“Funny story, actually.” She chuckled.
“I have time.” Matt smiled. He flashed his signature grin. The one that had girls fawning over him. 
Y/N blushed at his smile and began her story. She told Matt how a few months ago she auditioned for the Danish Royal Ballet company. They had gotten back to her saying they wanted her to join them. It was a dream come true for her. Matt intently listened to her love for dancing and how she immediately accepted. Instead of college, she chose to dance and now as of tomorrow afternoon, she’d be flying to Copenhagen. When she broke the news to her family and friends, they all demanded to have her visit. One of which had been her childhood best friend, Cameron. Matt chuckled and told her he knew Cameron. They shared a few laughs about the funny memories Matt and Y/N had of the young and chaotic woman. 
“So now you’re visiting Cameron,” Matt repeated. 
Y/N nodded. “Yep, she’s the last one that I was going to visit before flying to Denmark.” 
Matt had extended his legs out. His feet occasionally grazed and bumped into Y/N’s feet. Every time they did, he’d fight the blush that tried to appear on his face. 
“For a last hurrah, Cameron suggested–dragged me to this party. To be honest, I don’t like parties that much. It’s too loud, there are harsh lights, and the smells are just…”
“It’s overwhelming.” Matt finished. He knew the exact feeling. 
“Yeah.” Y/N’s voice grew quiet. “Now, your turn Matt. What’s your story and how’d you end up locked in a bathroom with me?” Y/N jokingly asked. 
Matt let out a laugh. Y/N smiled and giggle along. Matt felt a wave of relief fall over him. It had been a while since he really laughed like that: tears formed in the corner of his eyes, his breath cut short, and he clutched his chest. 
“My story’s not as…” Matt closed his eyes thinking of the right word, “interesting as yours.”
“That’s alright,” Y/N smiled, “I happen to like mundane stories. Besides, I have time.”
Matt smirked at the familiar phrase he muttered before, which now fell from her lips. He opened his mouth to tell his story when he heard the shuffling of the dress Y/N was wearing. With a huff, she stood up from her seat and strolled over to Matt. She plopped down next to him. Their legs brushed against each other. Matt couldn’t help but flash a smile in her direction. His eyes concealed by his red-tinted glasses fell just below the woman’s chin. 
“Did you just…” he chuckled.
As if she knew what he was asking, Y/N replied. “I can hear you better this way. You know, the party is quite loud.”
Now their legs were lying against each other. No longer shy, Y/N found herself scooting closer to Matt. Her hand snaked underneath his arm and then held it close. His hand playing with hers.
Matt just smiled. The blush on his face was now a similar shade to the scarlet lens that adorned his face.
“Sure, sweetheart.” 
Y/N rolled her eyes.
“Anyways, I’m a law student here at Columbia. Before that I grew up in Hell’s Kitchen,” Matt told Y/N.
She rested her head against his shoulder causing Matt to pause his story. He took a moment to calm his thundering heart. When Matt began his story. He was planning on just sticking to his college years. His childhood was a tangle of sombre memories: the accident, his dad, and Stick. But his lips betrayed him and Matt found himself telling Y/N about his dad and growing up at the orphanage. A story he didn’t divulge to just anyone. But Y/N wasn’t anyone. She was the woman who was locked in the bathroom with him. The ballerina who’d be flying across the world tomorrow. She was the woman whose heartbeat was helping distract him from the chaos outside the bathroom door. She was Y/N. He’d only known her for a few hours, but Matt couldn’t help but think he’d known her his whole life. An idea that Matt cringed at. This wasn’t him. He was a flirt and a playboy, but for the woman in the bathroom, he’d be anything. 
Soon, Matt was talking about the accident. The struggles of having your entire world stripped away in an instant. A good deed that was rewarded with eternal darkness. He told her about Nelson and Murdock, the law firm he was going to start with Foggy.
Together the two of them sat on the bathroom floor, sharing their lives and souls with one another. As Matt talked, Y/N listened. She rubbed his hand when he felt his throat clench. She just listened and Matt felt safe. He had no clue why, but he felt safe. Y/N was safe. In their tiny enclosure of a bathroom in a frat house, the two of them felt safe. 
___________
The safety that the bathroom provided the two of them shattered at the sound of a hard object that collided with the window in the room. Matt and Y/N jumped to their feet at the sudden bang. Y/N’s grip on Matt’s arm got tighter before she let go. His side was now freezing cold without her warmth. He tilted his head to listen to her as she trod carefully over to the window. Her body froze and her heart had a quick uptake.
“Everything alright?” Matt asked in concern. He took a step forward before he heard her shuffle forward and then came a loud creaking sound. 
Y/N’s smile turned upward as she looked out the open window. A cheer left her lips.
“Ah ha! Fuck yeah.” 
Matt’s ears perked up. “What?”
“Why didn’t I think of this before?” Y/N scolded herself.
Matt chuckled. “Mind telling me what your amazing discovery is?”
“The window.” 
“The window?”
“We can get out through the window. We’re on the first floor. It’s a bit of a jump, but we can get out!”
Matt’s face fell. “Oh, that’s great.” He smiled again when she looked back at him. A part of him wanted to stay in the bathroom forever. Just him and her. Matt and Y/N.
Her feet hit the ground and she walked back over to Matt. Her soft hands reached out and guided him over to the window. She lifted his hand up and to the window ledge. 
“Do you think you can get up?” She asked.
Matt turned to her and smiled. “Of course, sweetheart. I’m a big boy.”
Y/N’s face flushed bright red at the comment. She was happy that he couldn’t see her right now. Matt knowingly smiled at her blush. He knew full well the effect his words had on her. Matt handed her his cane which she took and held close. Her free hand held out to help him up. Then he pulled himself up onto the ledge and swung his legs around. His knees bent the minute the tips of his feet hit solid ground. Standing up straight he turned around to the sound of Y/N following him out the window. With a yelp, Matt stuck out his hand to hold her steady as she braced herself from the jump. She muttered a quick thanks before dusting her dress off and handing Matt back his cane. She felt like a teenager sneaking out of her house. 
The two of them stood underneath the window, unsure of what to do. Inside the house, the party was raging on. Matt could hear the numerous beverages being poured, the music tuned up louder, and people’s clothes grinding against one another. The more his senses took notice of it all, the more he just wanted to get out of there. He wanted to leave the party behind, take Y/N with him and enjoy the rest of the night. 
It seemed as if Y/N was thinking the same thing. 
“Wanna get out of here?” Matt asked at the same time Y/N suggested that they leave. The two of them smiled at their synchronization of thoughts. 
“Where are you staying?” He wondered. He took a step in her direction. 
“At Cameron’s, in the dorms.” She replied. 
“Perfect,” Matt whispered. “We’re in the same building then.” He extended out his arm to Y/N and smiled. It was more for his benefit than hers. He wanted to hold her close, closer than they had been, sitting in the bathroom, a few moments earlier. There was something about Y/N that intoxicated him. Her scent, the sound of her heartbeat, the way she smiled at his attempts at flirting, all were like a drug that Matt could never get enough of. His face dropped slightly remembering that she was leaving tomorrow morning. She didn’t live here and wasn’t a student at Columbia. There was a part of him that wished she was. A part of him wished he could wake up tomorrow and be around her again–hear her heartbeat, feel her smile, smell her faint perfume, hold her close, but that wasn’t so. For now, Matt would settle on the now, making most of the time he had left and maybe if he’d play his cards right, he’d get to kiss her. 
“Mind if I walk you back?” 
Matt heard the young woman next to him stifle a giggle before linking her arm with his. She leaned into him, her calming scent washing over him. “I don’t see why not.” 
___________
The walk back to the dorms was long, Y/N noted. Matt had chosen to take her the scenic route not that she minded. She enjoyed the walk back. The two of them chatted about life and never seemed to run out of things to talk about. She cherished the way Matt offered his jacket the minute a chill crept up her spine from the cold night. Matt loved the way Y/N pulled him a little bit closer the longer they walked. His warmth seeped into her side. To others who passed them by, it seemed as if Matt and Y/N were one person, walking so close they shared the same breaths, their hearts beating in sync. 
Matt’s pace slowed as the familiar scents and sounds of the dorms swarmed his senses. He felt his hand hold Y/N a little bit tighter, pulling her back to walk at his sloth-like pace. Eventually, his feet betrayed him and he found himself entering the doors of the building. Then the elevator. Then the hallway where Cameron’s dorm was located. Then just outside the dorm. 
Matt sighed softly at the loss of Y/N by his side. She had turned away from him and opened the door to Cameron’s dorm. Her back facing him. Her hand was still on the doorknob. Matt’s breath got heavy as he heard how fast Y/N’s heart was beating. She was waiting for something. 
Suddenly she turned around and gasped slightly at the proximity she had to Matt. Matt smiled at the sound. Her scent now filled his nose. His senses were only focused on her. Her heartbeat, the sound of her breath, the way her hand ran against her dress in an attempt to soothe her nerves, the blood rushing to her cheeks, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Her lips. Matt could tell they’d be soft. He wondered how’d they’d taste and how’d they’d feel against his. 
Matt couldn’t stand it any longer. The two of them had been dancing around all evening. The hand of the clock was moving closer and closer to her departure time. He reached up a hand to cup her cheek, the other tickled her neck, coming to rest just above her heartbeat. Matt leaned in, but she stopped him. Her hand was firm on his chest. 
“I can’t.” She whispered. 
Matt frowned and pulled away. Was he reading this all wrong?
“Matt,” Y/N reached out. She pulled him back to her. 
“I have this policy.” She explained. Matt found his hands finding a place at her waist. His grip was solid. 
“A policy?” Matt asked. His brows raised. 
“I…,” She shook her head. “I don’t kiss and say goodbye.” Her voice got quiet and if it wasn’t for Matt’s hyper-hearing, he was sure he would have missed it. 
He smiled softly he opened his mouth to reply, but Y/N continued on.
“I leave tomorrow morning and I don’t know if I’ll ever be back in New York. Hell, I don’t even know if I’ll be back in the States for that matter.” Matt felt her head fall against his chest. 
“But,” she said softly, “If I ever find you again in the future. If our paths somehow cross–like I need a defence lawyer,”
“Why? Do you plan on getting in trouble anytime soon,” Matt jokingly commented. 
 Y/N chuckled. The nervousness in her muscles relaxed. 
“Or if my ballet company tours or something like that,” She continued. She lifted her head off of Matt’s chest and cupped his face in her hands. She leaned in close and brushed her nose against his. “If you aren’t taken and vise-versa, if we remember each other, remember this…”
“That’s a lot of ifs,” Matt whispered. His nose nudging hers. 
“I know, but if destiny, fate, whatever is on our side, then I promise to give you a kiss.”
Matt’s ears perked up at those words. 
“I’ll give you a kiss. A real kiss,” She repeated. 
Matt laughed. “A real kiss?”
He felt her smile. “Yeah, not some peck on the cheek bullshit. A real kiss like how they do it in the movies.” 
“Okay,” Matt said. He wished as he held her close, that he could say something poetic and what not but words failed him. 
It was Y/N who pulled back first. Her hands fell from Matt’s face, and she stepped out of his hold. She turned away and whispered goodbye before closing the door to Cameron’s room. Matt sighed and stood outside her door taking in the promise she had made him. Forcing his mind to commit every last detail about her to memory. He’d be damned if he’d ever forget such a wonderful woman–Y/N. 
Finally, he stepped away and walked down the hall back to the elevators. He had only made it a few steps before the door flung open and Y/N rushed out. She ran to Matt. He turned around to meet her when he felt a warmth on his cheek. She had kissed him. Kissed his cheek. 
“There,” She stated. “A little something to mark the promise.” 
Matt smiled and reached out to her, his hand grasping her forearm. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. His lips a promise to find her. A promise to never forget. He lingered close to her. His soft lips against her flushed cheek. 
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” 
“Goodnight, Matt,” Y/N whispered sweetly. “Find me in the future.” 
_________
It was 3.26 in the morning when Foggy stumbled into the dorm. His drunken figure ran into the walls and tripped over shoes laid out across the floor. The noise from his entrance would have woken Matt from his slumber. However, Matt was awake. His sightless eyes gazed up at the ceiling. His mind was in a trace with a prayer on loop. 
“Fuck, sorry Matt.” Foggy apologized. His voice was hoarse from the long night of alcohol and impromptu karaoke. 
Matt turned on his side. “It’s alright, Foggy.” 
“So…” Foggy began as he marched to the bathroom and hastily brushed his teeth clean. The bottle of tooth past lay untouched next to the sink. “Was it a night to remember?”
Matt couldn’t hide the large and bright smile that appeared on his face. Matt’s mind flashed with the memories from the evening, distracting him from answering Foggy’s question. Puzzled by his friend’s silence, Foggy stepped out of the bathroom. A toothbrush stuck in his mouth, and hands on his hips. 
“You didn’t…” Foggy exclaimed the words sounding mushed with the toothbrush in his mouth. He quickly took out the toothbrush and discarded it on the side of the sink. “Who is she?” 
Matt sat up and looked in Foggy’s direction. The pungent smell of the party that followed Foggy didn’t bother Matt as he thought about the woman of the evening. Part of him wanted to keep the events of tonight a secret. He wanted to keep Y/N–the memory of her to himself. However, Matt’s mouth opened up and betrayed the inner thoughts of his mind, and he told Foggy everything. He told Foggy about being locked in the bathroom. The way she sat down next to him. Her leg brushed against his. He told Foggy about how he could have talked to the woman for hours and that he had told her so much about him some of which Foggy had never known. The smell of her perfume, and the sound of her voice and when she laughed. Matt smiled as he relayed their escape from the bathroom and the way she held on to him the walk back drawing him closer as the cold night went on. Matt told Foggy of his reluctance to let her go, and how he wished she were a student here. That he could be with her again and again, but that it couldn’t be. Later today, she’d be on a plane far away from New York. Far away from Matt. 
The room grew silent, and Matt just sat on his bed. Unsure of the thoughts and feelings dancing around his head. 
“What is it?” Foggy asked. He got the sense that there was something more to Matt’s mysterious woman of the evening. “A ground-breaking kiss? Mind-blowing sex?”
Matt just shook his head. Foggy gasped. 
“I kissed her cheek,” Matt replied. He had said it as if it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. A tiny kiss on the cheek. A kiss she had ran after him for. 
Foggy feined dramatically. “A. Kiss. On. the. Cheek.” 
“No, Fog…” Matt began. His head shook at Foggy’s statement. “We made a promise.”
Foggy stopped his dramatic acting and hopped on his bed. “A promise?” He repeated sceptically. This was his friend, Matthew Murdock, the campus playboy and heartthrob, and here he was a complete sap over a girl he had only met a few hours before. It didn’t possible to Foggy.
“If we find each other in the future, remember this night, the promise, then she’d give me a real kiss.”
“A real kiss?” Foggy chuckled. 
“Like one of those in the movies.”
Foggy’s eyes narrowed at Matt. “She’s your Cinderella,” he blurted. 
“My what?”
“Your Cinderella. The promise, AKA the shoe. The party tonight, the ball. Love at first sight You get my gist.”
“I’m not in love with her Fog it’s just…”
Foggy rolled his eyes. “She’s your Cinderella,” Foggy stated firmly. “You’re a complete sap over a woman you’ve only known for a few hours. Therefore, CINDERELLA.”
Matt smiled. “My Cinderella,” he repeated to himself.
“Now, you just need to go all Prince Charming and scour the kingdom for her,” Foggy mumbled as he fell back in his bed and snuggled into his blankets. 
Matt smiled at the thought and laid back down. His eyes raised up once again to the ceiling. Y/N, he thought. Matt felt like a sinner as the most beautiful sound he had ever heard left his lips–her name. He said it over and over again. A silent prayer to God that he’d meet her again in the future. He’d find his Cinderella and claim his kiss. He’d remember her: her scent, the melody of her heart, the touch of her skin and her lips, everything. Soon Matt felt his eyelids fall closed as midnight dreams overtook him. All he could think about was her. Y/N. He’d find her he just knew it.  
__________
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pedrito-friskito · 2 years
Note
🍑 Matt + a friend confessing her love for him?
ohhhhhhohohohohoh okay
I’m going college!matt for this one cuz that is the ✨VIBE✨
you oughta know - matt murdock x fem!reader
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he’s frustrating, is what he is.
frustratingly handsome, frustratingly kind, frustratingly easy to get along with. frustratingly frustrating.
you’ve never been so frustrated in your life.
and he knows exactly what he’s doing, you just know it. you’ve been studying for hours, bent over your ancient laptop, glasses sliding down your nose every chance they get, and there’s matt, apparently fine to lean back in his chair and relax instead of freaking out and poring over his notes like you are.
it’s nearly midnight, and the two of you have been in the library since well before the sun was still up, foggy having abandoned you earlier to go chase marci around the campus bar. he’d all but begged matt to go with him, but matt was adamant, intent to stay in his chair at your table until you were ready to go. “it’s the chivalrous thing to do, fog,” he’d said. “not about to let her walk home in the dark, c’mon.”
foggy had offered you a quirked eyebrow, grabbed his coat, and shouted his goodbyes, earning glares from every other table in the library. you’d both giggled like crazy, a short reprieve from the brain-numbing reviews you were running through.
you’d met matt on the first day of second year, having transferred to columbia for a scholarship. foggy had been a half-step behind, crowing at matt that, “how is it, man, that you’re blind, and yet you always find the prettiest girls to hit on?”
you’d blushed, matt had chuckled, and the rest was history.
it’s not…flirting, per se, but it’s…banter. you have a good rapport going, one that translates well into the few classes you share, even earning you bonus points on your mock trial for ‘partner chemistry’. matt’s just easy to talk to, fun to look at, and he’s genuinely a good person. it’s a triple threat, and honestly, you didn’t stand a chance.
and he knows it.
grades-wise, it’s like a battle royale between the three of you. your law marks are almost neck and neck, matt at the top of the pyramid, you floating somewhere in the middle, and foggy with a solid (and still wildly impressive) bottom tier. but you and matt took spanish together, and son of a bitch if you aren’t this close to failing.
slamming your textbook closed and shoving it away, you heave a breath, ignoring the few dirty looks that are thrown your way. it’s too late for this. “I’m gonna fail,” you declare, pushing a hand through your hair and starting to gather your things. “might as well just accept it. I’m gonna fail spanish.”
“you’re not gonna fail spanish,” matt retorts, still leaning back in his chair, feet kicked up on the one beside him, arms crossed over his chest. his glasses are pushed up his forehead and his eyes are closed, lashes fluttering slightly. how can someone look so good just…sitting there? “c’mon, you’ve been staring at this stupid book too long. you need a break.”
you slump onto the desk, pushing your face into your crossed arms. “the exam is tomorrow. I’m gonna fail, murdock. it’s inevitable.”
“the only thing inevitable,” he starts, head turned in your direction, glasses slipping back down into place on his nose. it’s hopelessly endearing and your chest is aching, “is you coming back to the dorm with me and drinking something other than chai tea.”
you go to reach for your book, to flip it open again, but he grabs your wrist, fingers curling around your pulse. “don’t hate on my tea.”
“no hate,” he laughs, squeezing your wrist, “but you’re coming. let’s go. rapido!”
“fine,” you concede. “but I really don’t want to listen to fog and marci have sex in the bathroom again.”
“which is why we then go to your place if they come home,” he says brightly.
you roll your eyes, knowing full well he can’t see it, and start to shove your books into your bag, shutting down your laptop and stowing it too. matt has less to pack, and waits expectantly, unfolding his cane and taking your elbow when you nudge him gently and offer it.
it’s a quick walk across the campus to the dorm matt and foggy share. maybe it’s strange, but you’ve always liked walking with matt, his big hand tucked into the crook of your arm, his bicep firm against your shoulder, leading him through campus between classes. he claims to like your pace better than foggy’s, and you’ve sat on the almost-compliment since he said it, tugging at your heartstrings every time he asks you to go somewhere on (or off) campus with him.
their dorm is a mess. well, more specifically, foggy’s side of the room is basically a trash can, takeout containers and beer bottles littered across every available surface, while matt’s side is much tidier, his bed forever unmade but his desk orderly and his closet even more so.
you’re always quick to perch on matt’s bed, unmade or not (his silk sheets are so much nicer than the dorm standard), and you find your place at the foot while he crosses to the makeshift bar cart him and fog have set up, an old desk they stole from the empty dorm across the hall and a stack of red solo cups from your last rager. 
“I’ve only got that orange-flavoured scotch foggy bought,” he calls to you, fingers running over the different-shaped bottles, “or blackberry gin.”
“what is with foggy and fruit-flavoured alcohol?” you reply, making a face. “gin please.”
he hands you a cup a moment later, and you waste no time, tossing the whole thing back in one go. you let out a squeak as it settles through you, reaching over to put the empty cup on matt’s nightstand. once you’re upright again, he takes a spot beside you, sipping his own drink, the mattress dipping with his weight and pushing the two of you closer together.
“hey,” he says after a moment, “you really shouldn’t worry about spanish.” when you start to protest, he holds up a hand. “I mean it. you’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met, all right? you’re gonna do great.” he gives you a bright smile, reaching over and taking your hand, squeezing it lightly.
in return, you groan loudly, flopping back on his bed. “god, why do you do that?” you almost shout, blaming your volume on the alcohol now quickly making a home in your bloodstream. “you know exactly what you do to me, don’t you, murdock?”
he plants a hand behind himself and turns to face you. “do what?”
“tell me I’m smart or stay at the library so I don’t walk home by myself or, or…”
you both speak at the same time.
he says: “or be your friend?”
and you say: “or make me fall in love with you!”
oh.
oh.
you stand up so abruptly it’s a miracle you don’t shove matt off the bed. your fight or flight instinct just kicked in and everything is screaming flight! get the fuck out of here asap! so you’re running around the room, trying to find where you left your shoes and your bag and your jacket and where the hell is your phone and oh my god, did you actually just say that?
and then he calls your name, and you freeze.
“I could say the same thing to you, you know,” he says, his voice low as he finishes his drink and stands from the bed. he pulls his glasses off, sets them on the nightstand, and takes a slow step towards you, then another. you put a hand out when he’s close enough, and his palm flattens against yours, fingers curling around your wrist like they had in the library, a foot of space between you still
“why do you always call me out on my bullshit or call me murdock or do that stupidly adorable thing in class where you nudge me every time they change the slide? or how you always walk with me and make me feel like I’m a regular person, and that day, when you told me it was snowing, and you described it to me like you were writing a damn poem. you made me fall in love with you too, okay?”
he pulls on your arm, and you stumble across the carpet, straight into his arms. he catches you easily, and your hands grasp his shoulders, feeling the muscle jump in your touch. he’s fit as hell, and you’ve noticed.
his eyes are on you, and you can feel it. it’s the strangest thing, knowing he can’t actually see you, but his gaze is flitting over your face like he can, his dark eyes only made darker by the dim light, but you can still see the honey-streaked brown you’ve come to know and love.
matt’s mouth cracks into a grin and he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”
you just nod.
it’s chaste, at first. it’s his fingers tangled in your hair and yours curling into the hem of his t-shirt. it’s soft lips and stolen breaths and a whispered I’m so in love with you that’s so quiet you think you might imagine it, but then he says it again and your whole being starts to tingle. his skin is so soft under your fingers, letting the pads of your thumbs slide under his shirt, feeling the dip of his hip and the curve of his waist. desperate kisses, wanting kisses, gently tugged lips and the soft swipe of tongues.
it’s chaste, and then it’s not.
he pulls you closer, the space between you disappearing, and then starts moving backwards towards the bed. matt goes first, sinking onto the mattress, and he’s pulling you into his lap before you can protest, hands hooking behind your knees and then moving up to grab your ass, squeezing once. it makes you gasp, the sound pouring into his mouth from yours, and he grins, hauling you closer, rolling his hips up into yours in a way that lets you feel just how excited he is.
there’s a bit of adjusting, some sliding on the silk sheets, and at one point, you’re straddling his thick thigh, the muscle hard between your legs, and matt tries to pull you up, but only manages to drag you across his jeans. between the seam of your leggings and the feeling of his thigh, there’s no way you can bite back that moan, eyes squeezing shut as it falls out of you.
“what?” matt asks, and you can hear the grin in his voice, mouth close to your ear as he drags his lips along your cheek. “did you like that?”
“it felt good,” you admit, grabbing his face blindly, pulling his mouth to yours for another searing kiss, this one much less chaste than the first. matt plants his foot, lifting his thigh against you, and you sigh heavily into his mouth. “fuck. really good.”
matt pulls your hips down hard, dragging you in just the right way, and you moan again, feeling that white-hot zip of electricity worm its way up your spine with every move. “you have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this,” he whispers.
he keeps kissing you, releasing your hips only long enough to drag your shirt up your body, tossing it somewhere on the floor. you move more than willingly where he wants you, shuffling back at one point to peel your leggings off, giving him space to yank his t-shirt off and kick off his jeans.
it’s a trip, sliding into his sheets with no barrier between him and you. sure, there’s been a few drunken nights when you crashed in his bed and woken up the next morning with his arm wrapped around your middle, but you’d always been fully clothed.
this is entirely different.
he puts his hand between your legs, fingers seeking out your warmth, and you guide him, gripping his wrist in both hands, murmuring yes, matt and oh, right there until he starts kissing the words out of your mouth.
there’s a bit of fumbling, an awkward reach into the nightstand for a condom, the shuffle of underwear around ankles getting caught in the sheets. but then he’s hovering above you, one elbow planted beside your head, other hand angling himself correctly. “ready?” he asks, and you breathe out a yes.
he knows exactly what he’s doing.
he manages to find the perfect pace, curving a hand around your thigh to push your leg wide, his hips bearing down on yours with every thrust, but you love it. he finds places inside you you weren’t aware even existed, filling your body with pleasure you’ve only dreamed about. you keep your hands on his face, his stubbly jaw in your chin, watching the feelings cascade through his features.
“matt,” you moan when he finds that spot, giving it the attention it requires, leaving you a squirming mess beneath him.
“tell me, baby,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck. “I wanna hear it.”
“I’m gonna—” your words choke off in a moan, tossing your head back on the pillow, matt’s mouth closing around your throat.
“good girl,” he whispers, hips still snapping into yours. “that’s a good fucking gir—”
then the door bursts open, light from the hallway flooding in, and you both freeze. foggy stands in the doorway, a very surprised marci at his shoulder, and before you can even react to fog’s sputtered “oh fuck, oh my god, oh shit, wait, you’re—”, matt’s grabbing the pillow beside your head and launching it at the door. foggy yanks it shut in time to miss the projectile, and you burst into giggles.
matt joins in for a moment, that handsome smile on his face, but you watch as it goes almost serious. his pace resumes, unrelenting and moan-inducing. you’re a mess, and you don’t care who knows it. he starts to curse under his breath, curving a hand around the side of your face, thumb riding the line of your jaw. “you have no idea how good you feel.”
you whine his name again, taking the messy kiss he offers. you’re halfway there again already, and it only doubles when he lifts your thigh, hooking your knee over his shoulder, and goes deep. he must feel you clench, because he gasps loudly, a groan cracking through his throat, the sound desperate and delicious. a few more stutters of his hips, and then he’s pushing his face into your neck again, teeth clamping hard on your pulse, a muffled moan reaching your ears.
he slumps against you, the two of you a sweaty pile of limbs between his silk sheets, and you sigh, more happily than you have in a while. you put a hand in his hair, pushing the damp strands away from his face, and he hums.
“hey, matt?”
“mm?”
“how do you say, that was really hot in spanish?”
a beat, and then, “you really are gonna fail, aren’t you?”
—————
murdock tags: @saintmurd0ck @lazyxsquirrel @mindidjarin @freshabogados @steadyasthe-flowers @whosfrankie @ancientbeing10 @plutoneu @grounderprincesslookspissed @hellskitchenswhore @hoewkeyesblue @simple-lovebot
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hellskitchenswhore · 10 months
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Whatever you do, don’t picture college!Matt laying on his dorm room bed crying while listening to Here Without You by 3 Doors Down
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courtforshort15 · 2 years
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The Trouble with Vending Machines
Word count: 700
General summary: Matt Murdock can do things that no ordinary blind man can do, but he still runs into things that remind him of his disability.
Trigger warnings: discussion/content about Matt Murdock's struggle with his inability to see
Masterlist
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"Excuse me," Matt calls out, knowing full well someone is about to walk by him. He waits until the woman is close enough that he can pretend he only hears her walking past him once she gets within a few feet. In reality, he heard her before she even entered the building. "Can you help me?"
The clacking of a woman's heels come to a stop, and he smells the scent of her shampoo float towards him as she turns back around to face him, hair swinging around her shoulders.
"Oh, sure," she replies once he assumes she has noticed the cane in his hands and the frame and dark lenses perched on the bridge of his nose. The sharp sounds of her heels echo through the hallway of the campus building as she makes her way over to him. "What can I help with?"
Matt has learned to adapt in a world without his sight, and would have done so even without the crotchety old man who had tried to make him into a perfect soldier. But even if no one was around, and even if he was able to use his abilities to navigate freely around the building, using this old goddamn vending machine would still be a struggle.
He knows vending machines that are user friendly for the visually impaired exist, but this machine is not one of them, and it's frustrating.
Matt smiles tightly. "First, can you tell me if this vending machine only takes cash, or is there a credit card option?" He already knows both are available, but his public persona is a series of acts and half-truths, and one must look the part of a blind man.
"You have the option to use either," she answers him in a kind, but matter of fact tone. The woman doesn't seem awkward or hesitant around his disability, which he appreciates. Some people walk on eggshells around him, nervous and afraid to offend him, and he hates it.
"Oh, great," he sighs in fake relief as he pulls out his wallet. "Does this machine have candy bars, by any chance?"
"It sure does. Do you have an idea of what you want?"
"Is there a Snickers bar?" Matt knows there is; he can smell the caramel and chocolate and peanuts. His guilty pleasure. "Or maybe a Reece's Cup?" The woman hmms briefly as she looks at the snacks inside.
"Yup," she responds. "It has both."
"Perfect," he smiles at her in what he knows is one of his most charming smiles, based on the reactions he gets from people who find him attractive. "I'll take both. How much is it? I'd rather not use my credit card, and I've only got five bucks on me." Cash in the United States dosen't have any Braille identifiers, which he thinks is ridiculous. He only knows which bill he has because Foggy helps him fold the corners of the cash a certain way, depending on the denomination.
For a country that supposedly prides itself on inclusivity, it sure isn't accommodating to people with disabilities.
"Yeah, it's only $3.75, it looks like. You've got enough." Her heartbeat assures him she's not lying, so Matt hands over the cash. The buttons beep on the vending machine as she enters in the letter and number combination assigned to each item. Matt hears the machine take the cash, and 30 seconds later, the candy bars are placed into his hands, along with the change.
"Thanks so much, I really appreciate it," he tells her, and he's being completely truthful as he does so. For all of the skills and techniques that Stick drilled into him as a child to help him manage his senses, this is something he honestly cannot do by himself if the machines aren't set up to accommodate people like him.
He is always able to tell which candy bars and chips may be housed behind the glass of the vending machine, but he can't tell what letters and numbers are associated with each snack, and he definitely isn't able to read the total dollar amount on the screen when places use older machines like these.
"Yeah, no problem," the woman says easily, which he appreciates. Most people tip-toe around his disability, and he can tell when people seem frustrated for having to do just a little extra work to accommodate him. "Do you need help getting somewhere? I know my way around the building pretty well."
Matt smiles, and it's one that's wider and more genuine this time. "No, but thank you. I can find my way back to the classroom."
"Okay, then. Have a great rest of your day."
"Yeah, you too." Matt hears the clacking of the woman's heels as she resumes her journey towards her next destination. Once she's gone, he unwraps the Snickers bar and throws the wrapper in the trash, before taking a large bite and making his way to his next class.
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Happy Disability Pride Month!
This post had two main motives:
1. I wanted to take a moment and highlight the fact that even the littlest things can cause harm, even if it's something you don't personally struggle with, and that all these things deserve attention and consideration in making a world that is inclusive to everyone
2. I did this from a fanfiction lense...Matt Murdock is 100000% blind, even when he describes his "world on fire" to Karen, and that fact sometimes got lost in the shuffle
Please please PLEASE let me know if something looks off, if I should change something, etc. I know it can be a sensitive topic and the last thing I want to do is cause more harm.
---
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peterman-spideyparker · 10 months
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Horses and Zebras (College!Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: I wrote this a bit ago with the intention of having this be smutty, but what I was coming up with just didn’t feel right, so I pivoted and turned it into this. I wanted to use a gif of college Matt but this one popped up, and I will never not use a gif of Tristan Thorn if given the chance and I’m also sorry for the sucky title. It might have a second part, but that’s TBD. Enjoy! :)
Summary: You’re in the medical program at Columbia, but you have some space in your schedule to take an elective, so you opt for a health policy and law class. What you don’t expect is meeting a handsome, blind law student.
Warnings: Fluff, flirting, medical jargon, angst (mentions of death, medical diseases), swearing
Other Characters: Foggy Nelson
Word Count: 2,184
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“Is this seat taken?” you hear a smooth, deep voice ask to your right as you take out your notebook and pencil case.
“It’s up for grabs,” you say with a smile as you turn to look at the asker. You feel your cheeks burn hot when you see the handsome man with brown hair, navy sweater, and sunglasses standing with a soft smile. He shifts the cane in his hands as he puts his bag down and begins unpacking his things. “I’m (Y/N), by the way.”
“Matt,” he returns as he settles. “Are you a 2L or a 3L?”
“I’m actually a med student—year and a half left.”
His thick eyebrows scrunch and his lips turn into a confused frown. “They’re letting a med student take a law class?”
“Well, it’s a health law and policy class. I’ve taken some summer courses to get ahead, and my advisor vouched for me. I figured if I’m going to be a doctor, I should try to help them and advocate for them as much as I can. Even if I know a little of it, I hope it would be a big help for some patients.”
“Wow,” he says softly. “You don’t really meet people that think like that.”
“Tell me about it. There’s this guy in my class, right? Stephen. He’s thinks he’s a real hot-shot surgical godsend, when really he’s just an egomaniac that always has to be the one holding the knife.”
“Sounds like a real dick,” he says with a sympathetic pout.
“There’s always people like that in any profession, I guess. Any people like that come to mind in the law program? Or am I talking to one?”
“I guess it depends on who you ask.”
“Mm,” you hum with a little smirk. “Sounds like a yes for the second to me.”
Matt smiles and licks his lips. It looks like he is just about to say something else when the professor walks in with her briefcase.
“Good morning and welcome to Intro to Health Law Advocacy. Now, we will be starting with medical ethics, and from there, segue into medical malpractice—which is slightly askew from the way it’s organized in the book. If you’ll open your textbooks to chapter eight . . .”
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“How are you not worried about this exam?” Matt asks, flipping through his notes on his bed, taking off his glasses and putting them to the side, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Well, so far, I’m already familiar with these things,” you sigh as you turn on the chair at his desk. “We covered them the first or second year of the med program. I really haven’t learned anything new that will help me as a doctor. This class isn’t what I thought it would be, and I’m starting to think that’s why they let a med student take a law class.”
“So, what exactly are you studying right now, then?”
“Advanced abdominal and reproductive anatomy and diseases.”
“Ew,” he grimaces.
“Eh, it’s not bad. Some of my friends and I have done the ‘What’s my disease?’ game with all the symptoms and stuff, it’s just making sure I get these muscles right.” 
“How can I help?”
You lightly scoff. “Matthew, are you trying to get out of studying?”
“I would never,” he says in mock offense, a wry smirk almost immediately pulling at his lips. 
“It’s good you’re practicing your lying now,” you laugh as you move to make a highlight in your notes. “You really wouldn’t want something that bad presented in court.”
“Seriously, though,” he offers after he stops laughing. “I need a bit of a study break, honestly. How can I help you?”
“You could always just sit there and tell me how pretty I am.”
“(Y/N).”
“Matt, I appreciate it, but I don’t know if you can. Unless you want to be a live model, that is.”
“How so?”
You sigh, regretting even having brought it up. “It’s one thing to read it and look at diagrams, but it’s another thing to actually do it on a person.”
“Okay. So,” Matt draws out, putting a tab in his book. “I could lie down, and you’d poke and prod and tell me what you’d feel if I was a patient with one of the things in your book?”
“Yeah, I guess. Would you be comfortable with that?”
Matt nods. “I need a break from these laws—my fingers can’t take it anymore.”
“Alright, then.”
You know to do this, Matt would have to take his shirt off, but you’re not quite prepared for when he does. You can tell that Matt is in shape just by looking at him, but seeing how sculpted he is, the defined dips and curves of his muscles on his taut and smooth skin, you’re not prepared for how your mouth waters. Laying down on the twin bed, he lifts his arms, folding his hands behind his head, resting all nonchalantly with a cocky smirk on his lips.
“You alright there, doctor?” he asks, shifting ever so slightly and making his muscles flex.
“I’m not a doctor yet, Matty,” you tell him, grabbing your notes before you get up.
“You don’t need those.”
“How do you expect me to tell you which uncommon disease that you fictionally have when I poke you in certain places? It’s not like you know the symptoms.”
“You use your memory, sweetheart, that’s how.”
Your cheeks burn hot at the nickname, but it’s enough to convince you to put down your notes. 
“Okay,” you start, moving forward as you retie your ponytail. “Let me start with something easy just to get going. Appendicitis. Appendix becomes inflamed from infection and fills with pus. Pain is caused in the lower right abdomen, usually starting right around here.” You apply light pressure near his belly button on his rock hard abs. How does he have abs this great? “Pain will lessen the pressure is applied, but will get worse when my fingers get removed.” I mimic my motion with my words.
“Ow, it hurts really bad,” Matt adds for effect with a pout, making you giggle. “Doc, you gotta help me.”
“Well, you don’t have a fever,” you play along, feeling his forehead with the back of your hand. “Not nauseous, either. Could just be gas. But, if you do later on, it hurts when you cough, walk, or laugh, and the pain shifts here and your abdomen becomes rigid—,” you continue, moving your fingers lower, “—that’s then we have an issue. An ultrasound will confirm it’s an appendicitis.”
“Easy enough.” Matt’s tone is cool, but the blush on his chest, neck, and cheeks say otherwise. “What’s one of the rarer ones?”
“Well, that’d be something like Hirschsprung’s disease. It’s when there’s a lack of nerve cell bodies in part of the bowel. People are born with it, but it might not develop until later in life. Pain can present anywhere.”
“Well, that doesn’t make diagnosis sound easy.”
“It’s not as common. One of the first things you’re told is to look for horses not zebras; what someone might thinks is uncommon is actually something common presenting differently.”
“Then what happens when it’s actually uncommon?”
“People end up going to multiple doctors,” you sigh. “Or, they realize it’s uncommon when it’s too late. And the sad thing is, it happens—it happens a lot more to female patients than male patients because . . . fuck, I don’t know, people think women are weak.”
“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”
“Cuz I am.” You sit down on the edge of the mattress, your shoulders slumping forward as you hang your head. “One of my closest friends in high school, she was so incredibly fit and healthy, but she hadn’t been feeling right. One doctor said it was the flu, a physician’s assistant said it was PMS, another said it might be something carcinogenic. Then one day our senior year when she was at home, she just collapsed. After a week, they figured out it was a neurological disease. It ran in her family, but it hadn’t manifested in anyone. And by the end of that week, she was gone.”
“(Y/N), I’m so sorry,” Matt says softly, sitting up and putting his hand on yours.
“I’m so afraid of turning into one of those doctors,” you breathe quietly. “I don’t want to worry anyone for no reason, to put them through unnecessary tests that insurance might not cover and they might not be able to afford. But I’m so worried that one day, I’m just going to convince myself that one of those zebras is a horse, and then someone else will lose their best friend.”
“We haven’t known each other for long, but I like to think that in the semester I’ve known you, I’ve gotten to know you well. So I know that when you become a doctor, you will treat every one of your patients with respect, kindness, and compassion. You’ll listen to them and their concerns, and do the absolute best to give them the care they need. If you think there’s a zebra in the room, I know you’ll trust your gut and approach it in the right way. It’s not gonna be easy, and it won’t be without its difficult times, but I have every last faith in you and your abilities.”
“I don’t think you know how much that means to me to hear,” you admit, your voice thick with emotion. “You really are going to be a great lawyer, Matt. And I’m not just saying that. A lot of the same nice things you just said about me apply to you, though. You’re kind, compassionate, and you just want to help. There’s nothing more admirable than that.”
You feel electricity move across your skin when he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. Your noses touch before you tilt your heads to the side so they slot better together, your lips millimeters apart before the door to his dorm opens.
“Guess who just got a date with Marci!” Foggy cheers triumphantly as he comes into the room, stuttering to a halt when he registers how you and Matt slide away from one another. “Sorry, I di—.”
“No—,” you start.
“Fog, we—,” Matt says over you.
“I should get going, anyways,” you say as you stand to gather your things. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Matt.”
“I’ll see you,” he says softly. “Text me when you get back to your dorm safe.”
“Will do. Night.”
As soon as you close the door to their room, you can immediately hear Foggy start profusely apologizing.
“Dude, I didn’t know! I’m so sorry—,” he starts.
“Fog, keep your voice down!” Matt hushes him urgently. “She can hear you!”
“She’s probably all the way down the hall at this point. Is that the hot med student you’ve been telling me about?”
“Fog—!”
“Don’t pull that ‘How would I know they’re hot’ shit—you always find the prettiest girls and ensnare them in your Murdock charm.”
You can’t help but giggle as you walk down the hall and start back to your place. So . . . Matt has talked about you to Foggy. You guess you can tick that off of your curiosity list. You wonder what exactly he’s told his best friend about. You’re so lost in thought and reliant on muscle memory that you don’t realize you’re back in your place until you slump your bag off your shoulders and it hits the floor. Pulling out your phone, you lean against the door and begin to text Matt.
“Your hot med student friend is safe in her dorm,” you type, grinning like an idiot as you bite your lip.
It takes him a little bit to respond.
“I’m glad,” he says with a little smiley face emoji. Another text bubbles before it disappears, reappears, and I have a new text on my screen. “I’m sorry for what Foggy said.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“So you did hear it. Eavesdropper ;).”
“I heard enough of it.”
You grow nervous when he doesn’t text back right away. In an effort to shake off the discomfort at the potential crater you might just have carved into your friendship, you change into your pajamas and grab what you need to start studying for you other classes. Just as you get in the right study spot, your phone buzzes to life with a text.
“You’re not mad?” it reads. 
“At you? Impossible.” Your finger hovers over the send button, wondering if it would push the envelope too much for the night, but then you remember the initial text you sent over, getting enough courage to click down on the blue circle with the arrow. “If you need me for anything, I’m just a text away.”
“Good to know. There’s no way I’m making it through this without you.”
Does . . . Does he mean the test? The class? He is too flirty for his own good. But you know one thing for sure: you have a big, fat, undeniable crush on Matt Murdock.
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murdocksluvrr · 2 years
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Ok so,
Being in class with college!Matt and you get chosen to work on a project together.
When you meet up outside of class to work, you're like super nervous because you've always had a crush on Matt. Matt can here how nervous you are and doesn't understand at first because you're basically top of the class with him.
JUST OMG WORKING WITH COLLEGE!MATT, THE CUTENESS, THE LOVE AHHHH
(college!Matt will be the end of me)
as soon as i saw college!matt my heart did a little leap ☺️
he’d be confused as to why your heart always races around him; why you chuckle nervously more often when he speaks to you; why you stumble over your words because you always sound confident when you participate in class (just like he does). at first he thinks it’s because you’re afraid of the quiet, almost nonexistent competition that lingers between the both of you…but then he pieces it together and realizes you have a crush on him
matthew ‘i’m always smooth as fuck’ murdock would fluster you even more after figuring out your feelings for him, but overall he’d be so sweet about it— always hanging in your dorm to spend more time with you, taking you on study dates, rewarding you with kisses when you get an answer right, gushing over the way you’re so intelligent to foggy…all in all, college!matt is perfect boyfriend material <333
-> join me in ‘thots and thirsts tuesday’ 🤍✨
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devils-dares · 1 year
Text
Where We Begin
summary: you were willing to let yourself think that matt was in your past, no matter how much of a shitfaced lie it was, so what happens when he shows up out of the blue at your dorm?
pairing: college!matt x fem!reader
warnings: NSFW 18+ minors DNI, semi-established relationship once again, hatred, softness at the end
wordcount: 1644
a/n: part two to top of the class, but it can be read as a standalone as well. i cannot tell you how many times i exited this doc and then re-entered it, just to not write anything. anyways, big stuff coming up in the future!
feedback is always appreciated!
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“Stop knocking like a maniac, I’m coming!” You yell at the door, annoyed you had to leave your bed. You unlock the door, welcomed by a smug face.
“What in the actual fuck are you doing here?” You ask accusatory, pulling Matt in by his shirt.
“Felt like it.” He shrugged.
“You are so lucky my roommate isn’t here, and why do you even think for a second I’d want to sleep with you?”
“You did it last time, and unless I’m having trouble remembering, you had a hell of a time.”
“You are unbelievable, Murdock.”
“And yet you’re still gonna let me fuck you.” You don’t answer, but instead pull your shirt over your head and toss it at him. He laughs, and you hate the way you feel yet the backs of your knees meet your mattress when he tells you to move. You allow his hands to push up on your hips, lifting you to sit on the bed.
“Always so willing for me, aren’t you?” He says, a bite of snark in his voice. His hands trace up over the soft skin by your ribs, his lips keeping yours occupied. For a man whose words aim to humiliate you with every breath, he kisses you soft and slow, as a person would kiss their lover.
You pull at his shirt, cotton wringing its way around your fingers as he answers your silent request. He pulls the soft material off and tosses it to the floor, an item to find later.
“When’s your roommate coming back?” He asks, breathless against your lips.
“Lecture,” you say between kisses, “we have two hours- god will you come closer?” His smile grows wider against your lips as your words sink in and your actions cause his body to land on top of yours.
“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” His hands sneak towards your back and you arch up a bit so he can unhook your bra. It joins both of your discarded shirts on the floor as his hands cover the expanse of your breasts. His lips trail down to your jaw.
“No marks, Matt,” you plead and he grunts out his disagreement, “I had to use almost all of my concealer covering up the ones from before, so unless you plan on buying me more, no marks.”
“You’re no fun,” he complains, “how about here?” His finger traces lightly right underneath your collarbones and you find yourself fighting to not give a reaction to his touch, “hidden by your shirt?”
“Fuck- fine. Just touch me.”
“Ask nicely.”
“Touch me or I’ll kick you out.”
“Fair enough.” His fingers ghost their touch down to the waistband of your sweatpants, and you lift your hips so he can pull them off.
“This okay?” He traces over the wet patch on your panties and you moan out your agreement. He laughs at your reaction while pulling your panties off to the side.
“So wet for me, aren’t you?” His fingers trail up and down and immediately your nails dig into his shoulders at the feeling. He pushes a finger in and you gasp.
“So tight around me, almost like you're enjoying yourself.”
“Shut up.” You say, gritting your teeth trying to work through the words as he pushes a second finger in.
“Make me.” He bites back, and you push the top of his head down until his face lines up with your pussy.
“How about you put that mouth to a better use instead of wasting your breath by talking?” You answer, and he chuckles darkly.
“Someone’s bossy today.” His lips wrap around your clit and suck in cadence with his fingers fucking you. Your fingers lace through strands of his hair, pulling hard when he gives you a particularly harsh suck. He groans from the sting, which eggs him on because he’s fucking you with an unmatched intensity. He speeds up and feels you squeeze around his fingers, teetering closer to the edge.
“Cum for me.” He speaks against your core. Your fingers pull on his hair even harder, and his groan sets you off, squeezing your thighs around his head as you cum.
“Matt, Matt-” He pulls away, allowing you to finish your sentence. That gives you the opportunity to see his face, chin, nose, and lips shiny from your wetness.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Too much- I just- need you.”
“You have me.” He slides back up, leaning down to capture your lips in a fiery kiss. You reach down and tug at the waistband of his pants, pulling the elastic just far down enough to expose him. You run your fingers up and down, tracing a vein as he groans into the crook of your neck.
“You drive me insane.” He breathes out, sucking hard enough to leave a mark right below your collarbone. You whine when he pulls away, your hands reaching out to bring his body warmth back to you.
“Shh, gonna fuck you now.” He takes his pants off, grabbing himself. He drags his cock against your pussy to collect your wetness on his tip. He pushes in gently, pausing when you squeeze his shoulders after he bottoms out.
“You okay?” He asks, hand coming up to gently stroke your cheek.
“Yeah, I just need a second.” He hums and lets you breathe, allowing you to stretch around him.
“Okay.” You breathe out, and he pulls out and pushes back in, lips against yours to swallow your whines.
He picks up the pace, the mattress squeaking its disapproval at the weight of his thrusts. Your foreheads are pressed together, sharing breaths. With one arm propping him up on the bed, he wraps the other under you, pulling you against him. Your hands tangle in the sheets, unable to form any words of how Matt’s making you feel. He groans, fucking you rougher. The headboard begins to bang against the wall, and a few knocks on the wall shared by you and your dorm neighbor bring you to realize how loud you’re being.
“Gotta be- fuck! Quiet, Matty!” He listens, grabbing the pillow from beneath your head and stuffs it between the headboard and the wall, effectively dampening the sound. The pillow does nothing to quiet your moans however, and Matt quiets you by stuffing two fingers in your mouth.
“Such a good girl for me, babybug, but you gotta be quiet.” You hum against his fingers, sucking harder as he shifts his weight to his knees, using his other hand to rub at your clit.
“You- goddamn- you gonna cum for me? Gonna squeeze my cock like a good girl and cum?” You nod, and as his fingers pick up the pace on your clit, you feel your release crest, stars exploding in your vision as you can do nothing but pull him close.
He finishes quickly after you do, turning the two of you over so he doesn’t crush you with his weight.
“How do you feel?” He asks, brushing your hair out of your face.
“Ask me in five minutes.” You practically slur out, all your energy gone to Matt and the two orgasms he gave you. He yawns, and you laugh at him.
“Sleepy?” You ask.
“Shut your mouth.”
“Okay,” you lay your head back on his chest, “but we should probably get cleaned up before my roommate comes back.”
“Shit,” he groans, “forgot about that.” You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek, the days old stubble on his usually clean-shaven face prickling at your lips.
“Or you could stay,” you suggest with a shrug, “I mean, someone was bound to catch us.”
“You wanna be seen with me? That’s your suggestion?”
“Murdock, if there was a picture definition of fucked out, you and I would be plastered on the page.” Your fingers run through the sweaty locks of his hair, and he closes his eyes.
“I should clean you up, you know, gentleman act and all.” He says, voice growing deeper from sleep.
“I’ve got a box of kleenex sitting next to you if it makes you feel any better.” You suggest. He laughs.
“Yeah, that unfortunately doesn’t give off the vibes I was going for.”
You pull the pillow out from between the headboard and the wall, telling Matt to lift his head before you place it down right beneath him.
“It’s almost like you want me to fall asleep here.” He speaks softly now, sleep imminent in his voice.
“You’re warm, you have a few benefits.” He breathes out a laugh at your words, grabbing the blanket that lay at your feet to pull it over your bare bodies.
“Can I ask you something?” He says.
“You just did.” He sighs at your words.
“I’m being serious right now.”
“Okay, ask.”
“Do you want to go to the house party my frat’s throwing?”
“Uh yeah,” you answer, “was planning on going with some friends.”
“No, I mean, like- with me?”
“What, you want me to be with you at this party, Mr. Forever Single?”
“Would that be so bad?” He sounds sincere, voice never wavering.
“Matt, I… you know we can’t.”
“Okay,” he answers, “I’m not going to force you.” A beat of silence passes, and you take a breath before starting your next sentence.
“I will go with you if, and only if, you take me to dinner tonight.” You cringe immediately at the end of your sentence, hoping that that was what he was implying with the invitation to the party.
“Yes,” he answers quickly, “yes, I will take you to dinner tonight. It’s a date.”
“It’s a date.” You repeat in agreement, as you allow silence to befall you once more.
“So,” he starts, “what does that make us?” You smile and settle, allowing the exhaustion to take you over.
“Depends on how well this date goes.”
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amberlynnmurdock · 5 months
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im thinking for my next Matt fic i revisit college!matt bc that truly was a joy to do back when i first started this blog and library series unfortunately was never finished so maybe i can revamp that and take it in a different direction
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kendallsroyco · 5 months
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We don't appreciate enough how perky College Matt is 🥹 his little drunken jumpy laugh? him swinging his legs? A cutie 😭
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puppetmaster13u · 2 months
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Prompt 231
Y'know, I bet in a world where DC and Marvel are in the same world, I Bet Bruce Wayne knows Matt Murdock. I bet they went to at least a couple same trainers and I bet Bruce invites him to a gala at some point.
No one would bat an eye at Bruce knowing another lawyer, he was already childhood/school friends with Harvey Dent.
And honestly, let the grimey cryptid boys be friends. Make Gotham and Hell's Kitchen WEEP at the thought of the 'living shadow creature' and the 'demon pretending to be human' working together.
Even if they're both completely human. Let them fuck with people as a treat.
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