#college!matt Murdock

[flutterbabee]

Deep in my heart I like to think Matt was a menace in college, playing all coy and dopey around girls, putting on that classic cheshire grin and going through all the basics in small talk with you as if the only thought in his mind wasn't bending you over the nearest table and burying his cock inside you. He'd really play up his shyness too, acting all flustered when you start to get touchy, talking about how he 'doesn't really know what he's doing,' but then he's putting you on your back and bullying his cock in and out of your sloppy hole. Taking the occasional moment to ask you if he's 'doing okay' or if it 'feels good, meanwhile he can hardly make sense of your quick "yes—!"s and "mh—mm"s. It's not like Matt was asking a genuine question anyways; he knew exactly that he had turned you into a cock-drunk mess, and he didn't want it any other way.

[kisspotion]

college!matt murdock x reader | mutual masturbation... but not how you're thinking! | nsfw

a/n: matt’s kinda a perv in this… but you just sound so beautiful

college!matt fisting his cock in the shower to the same pace he hears you fucking yourself at. he tried to ignore your muffled moans at first, knowing how wrong it was to eavesdrop on his neighbor in the room across the hall. but his exam stress and your airy breaths combined into a painfully hard problem for matt.

it had been so long—too goddamn long—since he'd last had the chance to get off, mock trials and essays taking up any spare time. exhaling a long, slow breath, matt leaned forward and rested his forehead against the cold tile.

were you relieving your stress too? how many fingers were you fucking yourself with? were you wishing someone could be there to help you get off?

"fuck," he groaned at the thought, gripping the base of his cock. his hips jerked forward involuntarily at the sensation. he could hear your teeth pierce your lips as you hold back a whimper. matt sucked in a sharp breath thinking about your lips and how he wish he could feel them, feel the way your heart pounded with pleasure.

“pleasepleaseplease,” he overhears, fist continuing to work along his cock. your pleas combined with the wetness of your cunt hinted at how near your orgasm was. matt steadied himself against the wall with his left hand, ministrations containing with his right. it had been so long since he had last done this.

admittedly, matt didn’t find himself doing this very often. more typically than not, the stimulation was too much for him to feel pleasure. but sometimes, his neighbor across the hall sounds too pretty and fucked out for him to not. and you didn’t even know what you were doing to him.

“oh god,” his grip tightened, bringing him closer to the edge.

he wondered how long you had been touching yourself for before he caught you? what got you so worked up? if he were to just go and knock, would you let him help you?

matt’s chest heaved at the same pace as yours, orgasms approaching in tandem. your fingers grasp against your sheets, his desperately grasping for any stability against the tiles. his eyes squeezed shut, almost in a desperate attempt to imagine how you look while lost in pleasure.

a soft, echoing moan flew from matt’s lips, his head dropping back while his abdomen clenched at his release. cum splatted against the shower walls, washing away with the water and some dripping down his hand. his thumb swiped over the head of his cock, working himself to overstimulation to get this feeling out of his system in case he ever bumps into you leaving his room.

a pang of dizziness overcame him, pairing with his exhaustion. with a groan, matt pushed himself off the wall, leaning into the water stream. as his body began to relax, his ears grew deaf to the drops of water sliding off his warm skin, only hearing the slowness of your breathing and pulse of your heart.

he’d finish off his shower when he could find a thought of his that wasn’t about you.

[jeffbuckleysconvent]

sub!matt murdock when you’re his first time at columbia. you think he’s cute, the catholic blind guy who sits front row of your complex litigation class. so when you’re studying in the library with him, you obviously invite him to the frat party you’re going to tonight. and even though you try to get him to chat up another girl, you secretly love his drunk clinginess. which may be why you put a condom in your bra just incase. so when you drag him off back to your dorm, stopping every five minutes to make out, he’s already wet by the time you lock the door, a clear stain on his jeans. you giggle. excited, aren’t you? you tease him relentlessly, enjoying his bright red cheeks. and although the two of you are committing one of the worst sins, according to him, he refuses to use contraception. feeling his bare shaft make its way into you, his tongue sticking out a little in focus, your giggling, yet quick cut to moaning as he near immediately finds your g-spot. oh, there you go, altar boy.

[lights-on-the-ridge]

that one time the AC broke on the hottest day of the school year

aka

that time matt nearly melted

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

Blurb Countdown To Daredevil: Born Again

9 Days: imgonnagetyouback - Taylor Swift "i'll make you wanna think twice/you'll find that you were never not mine/you're mine." NSFW College!Matt and alcohol are the two main ingredients in a jealous concoction. notes: 9 days!! in my humble opinion this is where the blurbs start to get good soooo if you like this, stick around for more! countdown masterlist

Matt doesn’t like parties.

But he likes you and he likes Foggy, so here he is, at some Columbia frat with a drink full of.. something awful.

The two of you aren’t dating, but he’s listening to the sound of you dancing, barely able to hear the way the fabric of your jeans rubs against some guy, and he’s not paying attention to whatever Foggy is drunkingly yapping about.

He takes a sip of his drink, jealously flooding him. The loud music of this party is making his ears hurt but he’s just tipsy enough where his senses are dulled a bit.

You two started hooking up a few months back, deciding that law school was too stressful for a real relationship, but realizing you both had a lot of pent-up frustration, you entered a sort of ‘friends with benefits’ situation. When Foggy went away for the weekend or even if you could find an empty corner of the library, Matt’s lips would be on your skin.

And at some point, half an hour fucks became long sessions of passion, falling asleep in each other’s arms, waking up and watching Matt sleep.. and you realized you had broken rule number one of friends with benefits—

You wanted to be with him.

But you knew Matt didn’t want you, he wanted a stress reliever. So, here you were. Flirting with another guy, dancing on him.

It made Matt sick to his stomach.

“Hey Fog, I’ll be right back,” He suddenly says, and then he makes his way over to where you were dancing. He says your name, and you stop dancing when you realize he’s right in front of you. “Can I talk to you for a second?” He asks.

You open your mouth to say something, but Matt grabs your hand and drags you upstairs, listening for a second to see which room is empty. He pulls you into a random quiet room and locks the door behind you.

“Matt, what’re you—” And before you can say much else, Matt has his lips pressed against yours—His movements are full of passion, and he’s kissing you as his hands wander up to your hair, beginning to run his fingers through it. You groan as he gently scratches your scalp, leaning into him as he pulls you over to the bed.

One hand leaves your hair and travels down your torso, right down to the waistline of your jeans, but you pull away from the kiss to ask,

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” He huffs, leaning in to kiss you again, but you grin against his lips, pulling away again.

“No, no—You’re jealous,” You accuse, “You’re jealous that your fuckbuddy isn’t giving you enough attention—”

“Shut up,” He mumbles, kissing you again, and you reciprocate, but just for a few minutes before you’re pulling away again,

“Admit it. You’re jealous.” Matt considers his options, because he knows you won’t let him let this go. You’re too stubborn just like him, and it drives him wild with need for you. He can hardly think straight and it’s not the alcohol.

“Fine,” He mumbles, moving so he’s off you. He kneels between your legs on the floor as you lay on the bed. “I’m jealous. I’m jealous that you would ever think of flirting with someone else,” His fingers come up to unbutton your jeans, then they move to your waistband, “I’m jealous that anyone might be able to touch you the way I do,” and he tugs down your jeans, “It makes me delirious, how much I want you, and I’m jealous you’re not mine.” He concludes, before glancing up to you. “Now are you going to let me eat you out or are you gonna keep being a brat?”

You blink, your heartrate picking up as you realize he wants you more than just as a fuck buddy.

“Wait, seriously?”

Matt’s beginning to grow annoyed that his face isn’t buried between your thighs.

“Yeah,” he kisses your thigh, “I want to be much more than just your fuck buddy.” You can tell he means it. “Now let me taste you,” he hums.

He hears no objections from you.

[a-leg-without-fear]

The Miranda to His Ferdinand

this is actually the response to this ask from the lovely @yarrystyleeza!!! i was so frickin inspired and ended up writing this :)

Ship: College!Matt Murdock x f!Reader

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: lots o' Shakespeare, kissing, suggestive material

Series: Request Fulfillment

Your dorm's mattress creaked as you and Matt settled on top. He sat to your left, braille script clutched in his hand, with his sunglasses tucked into his shirt collar and his hair ruffled after a long day. An easy smile settled over his full lips.

"What's the play, again?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked as a large hand swept over the front page of his script. Long fingers traced the raised bumps on the solid white pages.

"The Tempest," you replied with a sighed chuckle, "It's about a woman, Miranda, who's lived on an island her whole life, knowing only her father and their slave, Caliban. Ferdinand shipwrecks on their island, then he and Miranda fall in love. Typical Shakespeare stuff."

Matt laughed at your synopsis, shaking his head, "And you're auditioning for Miranda, I'm guessing?"

"Nope, Caliban," you snarked in return. Matt rolled his eyes as you stuck your tongue out at him.

"Alright, Caliban. Which scene are we reading?"

"The last part of Act Three, Scene One," you said, flipping your script to the correct page, "Should be page ten in your booklet."

Crinkling pages filled the comfortable silence between you. It was quick work to find the correct page, considering the section you'd be reading from was labeled "MIRANDA AUDITION." The booklet lay open in your palms as you scanned briefly through the lines. You could almost feel the adoration formed by the prose, the pure affection woven into the words. Shakespeare truly was a genius.

"Okay, page ten," Matt announced, breaking your silent reverence of The Bard. You cleared your throat.

"Right. Ready?" you asked as you straightened your posture. Matt nodded, gesturing for you to start. A deep breath filled your lungs, chest expanding like a balloon, as you tamped down your nerves.

"Do you love me?" you read from the script. You glanced at Matt out of the corner of your eye. His lips ticked up in the corners as he read his part.

"Oh heaven, oh earth, bear witness to this sound," he began, fingers rapidly skimming over the pages, "And crown what I profess with kind event if I speak true. If hollowly, invert what best is boded me to mischief. I, beyond all limit of what else in the world, do love, prize and honor you."

You couldn't breathe. Not when Matt's sightless gaze was fixed right between your eyes. Not when this profession of love came from him so earnestly. Not when your years of pining after him had finally bubbled to the surface.

"I-I am a fool," you stuttered. You shook your head, clearing the distracting thoughts, then tried again, "I am a fool to weep at what I am glad of."

Matt placed his free hand on your knee. Your heart pounded against your ribs, anticipation leaking into your blood like ink in water.

"Wherefore weep you?" he read softly. His dark eyes traced the space around your head. Almost searching, scouring for your answer in the planes of your face.

"At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer what I desire to give, and much less take what I shall die to want. But this is trifling. And all the more it seeks to hide itself, the bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning, and prompt me, plain and holy innocence. I am your wife, if you will marry me. If not, I'll die your maid. To be your fellow you may deny me, but I'll be your servant. Whether you will or no."

A tense silence fell over the two of you like a sudden burst of snow. Your pulse coursed rapidly under your heated skin. The weight of the line you'd read felt world-encompassing. Would he understand that it wasn't just you reading words? That the meaning behind them is what you felt?

"My mistress, dearest, and I thus humble ever," Matt whispered, a faint glance of understanding passing behind his eyes. You swallowed a lump the size of a baseball.

"My husband then?"

The hand nearly burning a hole in your knee wrapped its fingers around your own.

"Ay, with a heart as willing as bondage ever of freedom. Here's my hand," Matt breathed, fingers tangling with yours. Your breath caught behind your lips. This is happening.

"And mine, with my heart in it," you said shakily.

That same silence. Charged like the static before a lightning strike. Nearly choking you with how intense the moment felt. The pad of Matt's thumb rubbed circles into the back of your hand.

“Does Ferdinand get to kiss Miranda in this scene?” he asked, gaze landing on your lips. Your heart leapt like a horse over a hurdle. Swirls of anxiety and finally! chased each other through your mind.

“It-it’s not in the script, but I think ad-libbing is more than okay,” you said as your heartbeat roared in your ears. Matt’s signature, cocky smirk pulled at his lips.

His hand seemed to move in slow motion as it lifted from his braille script and cradled your jaw. Palm warm, almost searing, and calloused like you could barely believe. Yet you’d never felt anything softer. His thumb passed over your flushed cheek slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, before it caught on your bottom lip.

“Is this okay?” Matt asked, voice barely above a whisper, as his thumb pulled gently on your lip. A shudder rolled over your spine like rumbling thunder.

“Yes,” you uttered with a quick nod.

Before you could blink, his lips were pressed against yours. Lightning struck your mind and rendered you breathless. Shocks coursed through your veins. Your heart nearly stopped beating.

He was kissing you.

Matthew Michael fucking Murdock was kissing you.

You quickly reached out and clung to him like he was your lifeline. You didn’t want this moment to end. This singularity that felt impossible, your whole life building to this one kiss. 

Warm fingers carded through your hair and tangled in the strands. Matt pulled you closer, your chests pressed together. He swiped his tongue along your lips to silently ask permission. You more than welcomed the intrusion as an involuntary moan kicked up your throat, opening your mouth to grant him entrance. A groan of his own matched yours in kind. He licked into you like you were the first drop of water after a month in the desert. Drinking from you, clinging to you, almost desperate.

Your head was spinning. You could barely breathe. Your hands shook where they clung to Matt’s t-shirt.

And just like that, it was over. Matt parted from you like separating two strong magnets. His forehead rested against yours, heaving breaths puffing along your cheeks. You screwed your eyes shut at the loss of his lips on yours.

“I could… I could do that forever,” Matt laughed breathlessly. You grinned as you opened your eyes. His sightless gaze was fixed on you. Pure adoration flowed from his joyful expression, how his eyes crinkled in the corners and how his dimples dug into his cheeks. You couldn’t help but match his wide smile.

“Me too,” was your clever response. You inwardly groaned at your quick wit. Matt chuckled, placing a chaste kiss to your hairline.

“When’s your audition?” he asked, like how close he was didn’t render your mind completely useless. You took a moment to gather your deteriorating thoughts.

“Tonight. At eight,” you said. Matt hummed.

“And what time is it now?”

You glanced at the digital clock that sat on your nightstand. In bold, red letters, the clock displayed “4:48 pm.”

“Almost five,” you replied. Matt ran the tips of his nails over your scalp. Pulses of pleasure coursed through you, your head tipping back in his hands, as your eyes fluttered shut.

“I think that’s plenty of time to run the scene some more, don’t you think?” he suggested, voice a low rumble deep in his chest. All you could do was nod.

And if rehearsal ran long, who were you to object?

[carbonfiction]

would you do a cutie inexperienced matt murdock wih a dom reader? 👉🏻👈🏻

Oh I absolutely can anon <3!

Now i had a few different ideas for this but ended up going fairly simple?? However im not at all against dropping something else w Matt and a more dom/experienced reader if thats what y'all wanna see? Lmk? <3 I am a sucker for an inexperienced cutie!!

Warnings?: shooooort im so sorry. Sortaaa inexperienced College!Matt, Handjobs, lil swearing, boob/nip sucking and a tug at matts crucifix...

Also sorta inspired by this here linkkk :p

Theres a gentle tremble to matts legs as you sit between them, a hand clasped tight in the sheets besides his hip. The dorm room quiet aside from heavy breathes; mostly his as you shift to sit on your knees on the lumpy mattress.

Matts pants long kicked away, left in only his boxers as they strain against his hard on. Beads of precum staining the fabric the longer your eyes amire him.

Each sensation dailed high as your palm presses into the fabric; firm yet slow strokes over his length making his abs clench with every shakey breath. The soft friction on his already sensitive cock making his hips buck.

"Doin okay matty?" you coo gently, checking in.

Matt nods, throat bobbing thicky with a breathy sound, but its not enough. You need to hear him say it, need him to confirm verbally. "Yeah? Gotta use your big boy words for me so i know.."

"Im okay sweetheart," he murmers, a tiny smile cracking over his lips at your care; your heartbeat steady in his ears compaired to his own running a mile a minute. "Better than actually.."

Matt hears the smile on your face when you giggle, the sound airy and girlish as you run a hand up his thigh. The light hairs tickling against your palm before you hook your fingers in the band of his underwear.

"Alright. Thats good." you nod, tongue wetting your lips audibly as you tug them down, "But you just tell me if you need me to slow down okay?"

"Mhmp.. Yeah.." matt says, His cock slapping at his stomach at the slight lift of his body. "yeah promise."

Your mouth waters at the sight of him bare; gently toned body on display for you as you shift again. This time to lay beside him, throwing a leg over his to remain close.

"So cute all hard f''me matty.." you murmer, eyes bright at the way he reacts; Red tipped and leaking precum on his lower stomach as you finally wrap your hand around him. "Looks like it hurts"

"Yeah.. S-shit.. So hard." he gasps, head falling to the side against your own bare chest as you stroke him. The soft strands of his hair tickling against your skin.

You gasp playfully at Matts words, surprised, yet teasing. "Ooh, look at that language Mathew.." your lips press against the top of his head. Free hand smoothing over his chest, nails a soft scratch at his abdomen up, up, up until those fingers tug at his chain.

Matt makes a broken little sound, head angled back, mouth dropping open against your boob. The little gasp exhaled around your nipple as he rocks his hips up again, almost already feeling oversensitive at the way your thumb offers friction at the head of his wheeping cock.

The crucifix offering a soft glow in the moonlight as it sits against the side of your hand, a little tight on his neck as it digs in from the back. "S'okay..i gotcha matty. You just keep that pretty mouth busy and ill take care of you. Make you feel real good"

[farfromstrange]

Hey!

Happy advanced birthday! Hope you get to go to more comic cons and meet charlie again uwu

Btw love your fics! They're very immersive and well written ♡

Can I get a bouquet of peonies with some daisies ?

I was thinking something along the lines of matt and reader being frenemies in college, having a sassy back nd forth relationship?

Perhaps the reader at one point goes like "Aren't you blind?" And he's leans in with a soft purr "Well love is blind"

And she pushes him off laughing?

Idk. I need a spontaneous vibe in the fic.

You can choose the ending •♡•

Thank you strange! And again, happy advanced birthday to one of the best fic creator! 💗

Aww, thank you so much! I'm also wishing for myself that he'll come back to my country sometime soon, so thank you for helping me manifest it. And thank you so much for your request! I apologize for taking so long. I wasn't happy with my first draft, so I rewrote everything. I hope it captures the vibe you wanted me to go with. I'm actually quite happy with this. I hope you feel the same way! I got a little carried away, so this is now almost 900 words instead of the short fic I intended it to be. Oopsie.

Friends, Enemies, or More?

Event Masterlist | Matt Murdock Masterlist

Pairing: College!Matt Murdock x Reader

Request: A bouquet of… peonies and daisies.

Warnings: Fluff, college era, kind of frenemies to lovers, snarky remarks, Matt being a smug asshole

WC: 878

You poke your head into the study booth between the State and Federal law literature and just as suspected, there he sits with his fingers buried in the textbook for his third-year class. 

“You’re in my spot, nerd,” you say. 

Matt tilts his head in the direction of your voice. His shoulders shrug as he retorts, “I didn’t see your name on it.”

“Ha Ha, very funny.”

“Really, I didn’t.” As if to underline his point, he adjusts the black glasses on his nose.

With a roll of your eyes, you slide in next to him. “I hate you.”

He chuckles, “No, you don’t.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Or maybe you should keep telling yourself that. He’s annoying, and sometimes you want to shove your foot up his ass, but you don’t hate him. When you have a question, he’s available, day and night, and he helps you study when you feel like you’re going to fail. He’s a good person. 

You don’t like that he’s better than you, of course, but one look at him, and your stomach is in knots for an entirely different reason. The butterflies hammer against the doors to their cage to the point you wake up nauseous. It’s so annoying you want to kill him sometimes. But hate? No, you could never hate him, and that makes you pretend you can’t stand him even more.

“You’re quiet,” he observes. 

You scoff, shaking your head as you open your textbook. “I’m trying to study,” you say. “You know, the thing people do before an exam.”

“I know what studying is. I was making an observation.”

“You’re not worth the effort it takes to keep up a conversation.”

“There she is.”

You bite back a smile. “Shut up.”

Unlike you though, he doesn’t hide the satisfied smirk forming on his lips. He’s quite proud of it, too. 

Minutes turn into hours, both of you silently working through each question on your mock exam. You work until the sun has long set over New York, and the librarian announces through the speakers of the library that it will be closing soon. 

With a sigh, you close your textbook. The man beside you shifts, too. 

“Walk you home?” Matt asks.

You turn to him, eyebrows raised, and you sound almost irritated when you retort, “Why would you do that?”

He chuckles awkwardly. “Well, it’s late, and from what I’ve heard campus can get pretty dark. I just thought you might want someone to, you know, keep you company.”

Never, not once, in the time you’ve known each other did he offer to walk you home. You’ve been to each other’s dorms to study, sure, but he never really expressed concern for your safety before. It surprises and confuses you, to say the least—to the point your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest again. 

Matt tilts his head as if to ask, ‘So?’

God knows it feels as though he can see right through you with nothing but his senses. It’s not possible, you keep telling yourself, but whenever he sits there, unmoving, your reflection dancing in his black, squared glasses, you can’t help but feel naked. 

You decide to play it off with a snicker. “What, you mean I need someone to protect me?” you ask.

“It wouldn’t hurt.”

You laugh again at the absurdity of it all, tossing your textbook into your bag. “Aren’t you blind?”

He leans closer and purrs, “Well, love is blind.” Without missing a beat, that smug smirk still plastered on his face. 

You stare at him. Did he just… your brain takes a moment to catch up with his words. A laugh bubbles up in the back of your throat. 

“You think this is gonna work on me?” You shove him. “Yeah, Murdock, not gonna happen.”

Trying to keep some of your dignity, you get up. Perhaps that way he won’t catch the blood pooling in your head. 

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m good,” you say. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Just as you’re about to turn away, his hand wraps around your wrist. You’re met with that smirk again. It’s as though you ate your own heart. The butterflies are rioting, and his hand—his godforsaken hand with those thick fingers and veins spreading over the back of it like he was painted by Picasso—makes your skin tingle. 

You’re not supposed to feel this way. But oh, you’re far beyond enemies now. You’re far beyond being friends.

Matt pulls you back down to his level. The surprise at his strength gets lost in translation for he doesn’t hesitate to grab the back of your head, roughly so, and he brings his lips to yours—a soft, plump heaven of breath mints and coffee. 

He kisses you like a man starved. Lips moving, teeth clashing, and your tongues dancing for dominance. Though just as suddenly as he’s kissed you, his lips fall from yours again. 

“Now can I walk you home?” he asks.

You exhale shakily. “Only if you promise to buy me dinner,” you say.

And it comes as naturally as breathing to him to promise you exactly that. He may not be able to give you much, but he sure as hell is going to try. 

[daredevils-stuffed]

A Girl Can Dream

Authors Note: Guess I’m back… totally not because I’ve been rewatching daredevil like it’s a comfort show.

Characters: Matt Murdock x Reader

Overview: You meet Matt in a club, and discover when it’s too late that he’s your brother’s best friend. Foggy would not approve. But can Matt resist temptation.

Warnings: no warnings as of now. Maybe a few in the future.

Also available to read on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63147244/chapters/161719609

Part 1

College was the chance for you to try new things, experience all that life had to offer. Going out to clubs was relatively new to you, but you accepted every invite that was offered because being at Columbia meant more than just studying. So, it’s Friday night, and you want to let your hair down after a long and stressful week. You and your friends have been chasing to find the right vibes from bar to bar. The place you’re currently in has loud upbeat music, the type you can’t resist dancing too. 

 

You stand off on the sidelines of the dance floor cradling your drink, taking a breather. Your friends love being the centre of attention and are dance battling each other. You laugh aloud as they spin themselves around to create more room. 

 

“They seem to be having fun, why aren’t you out there with them.” You peer up to see a handsome man with thick, choppy hair, and tinted glasses perched on his nose. It takes you a minute to realise he is talking to you, sipping at your drink you glance back at them. 

 

“I’m not really one to draw attention to myself. Plus, I haven’t got anyone to dance with”. You chuckle, and he snorts. The alcohol is making you tingly and brave, so you take a good look at the man next to you. His clothes  aren’t too fancy, just casual jeans and a shirt that fitted perfectly around sculpted arms. He’s leaning his elbow on a white stick and that’s when it clicks. He’s blind. 

 

“I couldn’t agree more. But I would like to dance at least once tonight with someone.” He fiddles with the bottle in his hand, not really looking in your direction. 

 

You can tell he is either nervous or uncomfortable, his cheeks are flushed red under the strobe lights. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you lean into his ear. Lips lightly brushing it as you speak. “Well, I definitely would like your company”. You had already been to three bars previously, so your tipsy state gives you the confidence to gently grab his hand and guide him towards the centre of the dance floor. 

 

Standing there taking in his features you realise that he is quite good looking. A soft smile encapsulates his face as you take his hand and place it on your waist, slowly swaying in time with the music. Your arms finding a way around his neck, your bodies in sync. You’re pulled closer to him, close enough to smell his heavenly cologne. 

 

His hands start to travel around your body, down towards your ass. He plays with the hem of your dress, and you let him, knowing he can’t tell what you’re wearing. You knew it was kinda short when you put it on, but now you’re glad you did as his fingertips slowly trail over your thigh causing goosebumps to rise and shivers to go through you. You’re sure that your breathing has deepened and your eyes close as you try to focus on the feeling, hands playing with the hair at his nape. 

 

You’ve moved closer again now. At some point your spun around so your back is against him. Too lost in the music and the feeling of him against you to care what was going on around you. You can feel him hard against your ass, and you grind down a little to get a better feel. You are just as turned on, letting out a little hum of approval. His hands spread over your stomach, enclosing you into him. His lips finding that perfect place on your neck and all air is sucked out of you. This is perfect, this moment feels cosmic, something that could go on forever. 

 

But it doesn’t. 

 

Your friends interrupt you to say that they were leaving for the next bar. You look up at your dance partner as he drops his hands from your hips, taking a step back. “No wait.” You hurriedly shout, grabbing his wrist. You spin around to look back at your friends. “Sorry guys, I think I’m going to stay here. I’m enjoying myself.” A little smirk on your face tells your friends all that they need to know. They grin back at you and eye up the man behind you. His jaw ticks with amusement but he says nothing. You hug them goodbye and promise to text when you’re home safe, but you know that you can’t promise that would be tonight. 

 

You grin up at your company for the evening. “Shall we go get another drink before we carry on.” You grab his hand and lead the way to the bar and order yourself and him a drink. He stays close to you, playing once again with the hem of your dress, drawing shapes into your inner thigh. You lean into him after taking a sip of your new drink. “We should go back to yours after this,” you whisper, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

 

“Mmm. We definitely should. I have some ideas as to what we can get up to sweetheart.” His hand goes further in between your thighs, you clamp his hand before he can get any deeper and see how wet you are. Your eyes look up in shock and he just chuckles. “I just need to wait for my friend to arrive so I can tell him I’m leaving with you. I might also want him to see you, just so he knows you are real”. You shake your head and lean your forehead against his shoulder. 

 

“Sweetheart? Hmm okay.” He nudges your hair with his nose, taking in your coconut scent shampoo. His teeth nip at your neck, encouraging your breaths to come out as sighs. “I should probably know your name if I’m going to be coming home with you”

 

“I’m Matt.” He says and you look up at him in shock. Pushing away from him, his fingers dig into your hips, eyebrows knitted together out of confusion

 

“Oh my god, you’re that Matt” you breathe just as you hear Foggy’s voice. 

 

“Hey! I see you two have met. Saves me introducing you both.” You groan internally turning to face him. In a college campus this large, the one hot boy that is attracted to you happens to be your brother’s best friend. Matts hands instantly drop from you, any remnants of his touch completely vanishing. 

 

“Foggy.” You and Matt say, his with a little more surprise and a lot less anger than yours. he leans in to kiss you on the cheek and taps Matt on the back before ordering himself a beer. He starts talking about his day, and how he wasn’t even sure if he was going to make it tonight. You note that Matts lips turn down, and you think of your lost future where you could be experiencing Matts body in all its glory, feeling his touch in all the right places. 

 

“Just so we are clear Matt, no you cannot touch my sister’s face okay. She is off limits.” Matt clears his throat and sits up straighter. You could almost stroke the awkwardness between you now, the sexual tension still ripe and all that more unbearable. 

 

“He’s being doing a little more than that” you murmur as you turn to grab your drink, hating yourself for ditching your friends for Foggy’s best friend. Why did it you use your logic, why didn’t you see that the blind man in your college campus bar might be the same person who also lives in your brother’s dormitory. 

 

Matt coughs and pinches your side. Your eyes land on his face in shock, but his is neutral. There is no way he heard you say that. “Come on man, you know I wouldn’t do that to your sister. We were just talking about what me and you are getting up to tonight.”

 

“You are more than welcome to join us sis!” Foggy says. Disappointment etches your features, as well as Matts. You feel as if a massive bucket of icy water has just been tipped all over you. Yet the burning heat between your legs is still there. 

 

“You know what, I think I will.” You did not really have much of a choice. Realising if you leave them now, your night will have to end there. 

 

“Great, that way I can keep an eye on you.” Foggy nudges you to get between you and Matt. It was then you realised that nothing could ever happen between you and Matt. Even if you wanted his hands and lips all over you, there was no way Matt would break Foggy’s trust. 

 

“Yeah” Matt agreed. “We don’t want you going off with any strange men, you don’t know who could be out there.” You glare at him and polish off your drink. It’s going to be a long night for you. 

 

“Shots?” Because that is the only thing that is going to get you through this, and you really don’t want this night to be memorable. 

 

The night goes on. You’ve really passed the point of tipsy. You’ve had no further interaction with Matt, but you’ve also had no other interaction with men in general. They seem to stay away from you when there are two men leering behind you as you dance. 

 

“Hey Matt! Did I ever tell you about the time I found my sister in a pile of oranges” Foggy shouts over the music. You’ve been dancing for the best part of an hour, your back turned so you don’t have to keep up with any of the conversations. You’ve heard Foggy tell this story over and over. You lived it, you were there. Sticky and uncomfortable and 5 years old. Matt glances over at you and chuckles as Foggy continues the story. You cringe slightly, cheeks flushing as you try to drown of the embarrassment. “And that’s how she got the nickname Clementine”

 

“Clementine? Really?” Matt smirks. Foggy, completely forgetting he was in the middle of a conversation, becomes distracted trying to hit on the girl next to him. Matt, using your shoulder to steady himself, takes this opportunity to press his lips to your ear. “I think I prefer sweetheart myself.”  You roll your eyes, elbowing Matt in the stomach. “I think you like it when I call you sweetheart.” 

 

If your heart rate was anything to go by or the fact that your stomach is doing summersaults, then yes maybe you did like Matts pet name for you. Matt’s fingers brush along your next, down towards your collarbone and sweeps back up again. Your breaths coming out in signs until it hitches. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and slowly moves away. 

 

“I think it is time for us to go home now.” You check the time on your phone, quarter to two in the morning. Definitely time for you to go home, nothing good can happen from here. You turn to Foggy to see if he agrees but he is tongue deep in a girl you’ve never seen before. He motions you away with his hand, not once breaking concentration. 

 

“I’ll walk you home” Matt says quietly. Gathering his stick and setting down his beer. 

 

“Oh no it’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” 

 

“I have no doubt about that. But just for my peace of mind, what kind of friend would I be if I let Foggy’s sister walk home on her own” his voice almost comes across teasing. 

 

You huff, unable to find a reason not to let him join you. “Fine. Let’s go.” 

 

You’ve run ahead of Matt, squealing at the frigid air hitting you. You watch as your breath floats away from you, you love how quiet everything is.  He chuckles and calls out for you to be careful before jogging up to meet you. You take Matt’s arm, walking the long quiet path back to your dormitory with slow unstable steps. The night air has hit you and made the alcohol take an effect. “I say what a splendid evening” a fancy British accent causes Matt to study you. Giggling to yourself with amusement, Matt seems to lose concentration and almost trips over his feet causing you to laugh harder. 

 

Keeping up with the accent Matt calls out “Oh Clementine darling you are going to wrong way” pulling you back with an outstretched arm when you go to round the wrong corner. He spins you around and pulls you in close. You share a hearty laugh, which warms your insides. 

 

“Oh, silly me! I need a strong man to carry me home” you shrill just as you jump on Matts back. With a humph Matt adjusts you on his back, stick still in hand, he continues the walk back home. You have no concept of time at this point and the world around you starts to spin, mostly because of how amazing Matt smells. You breathe in deep trying to inhale as much of it as you can, all while committing it to memory. 

 

“Thank you, good sir. I much appreciate your efforts in getting me home. I shall bid you a good night” you’re not really sure why you’ve kept up the accent, and it falls off towards the end. You just stand there staring up at Matt, his grip on your waist firm. You push his hair off his forehead and slowly graze your fingers along his cheekbone. 

 

“Let me see your eyes,” you whisper, you were curious what colour they were, and it bugged you not knowing what they looked like. You knew about Matts accident through Foggy, but you didn’t know much more about Matt than that. “Mmmh, you’re so pretty. Do you know that?”

 

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, he stills under your touch, contemplating your words as his eyes sightlessly roam your face. “I don’t think you’re meant to call boys pretty but thank you”. Matt slowly reaches for your hand as if trying not to startle you. Bringing it to his mouth, he gently places a kiss on the inside of your wrist. Your entire body envelopes in flames, maybe the night will end well after all. 

 

He goes to take a step back, creating space between you as if his actions were an unspoken goodbye. But you’re not ready yet, and pull him in close by his shoulders, lips almost in reach. His head pulls back quickly, not expecting your moves. A gentle smile is followed by the words “we shouldn’t.”

 

Before you know what is happening Matt is stalking off down the path head low. 

 

You groan up to the sky, not quite sure where you stand with Matt. But one thing you’re certain about - Matt is a tease and will likely never touch you again

[amberlynnmurdock]

College Series (Part 1)

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

[hellskitchenswhore]

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

[kisspotion]

sub!college matt who is unbelievably inexperienced, but still wants to do his best for you. when you ask him to take care of you n eat you out he falls to his knees faster than he would for a prayer. but this catholic‘s level of enthusiasm doesn’t quite match his experience level.

so… you have to take matters into your own hands. bossing him around until he’s laying down fully clothed and letting you ride his face. letting you rock your hips back and fourth so his nose presses against your clit all while his tongue laps you up. he loves letting you use him for your own pleasure. but by the way his jeans are decorated with a wet spot and he whimpers beneath you, he doesn’t seem to mind that the pleasure goes unreturned.

[jeffbuckleysconvent]

teaching college sub!matt murdock that his dirty thoughts are totally normal. well..I’ve kind of been thinking of putting my..my dick, in your mouth. you giggle at his innocence. sweet thing, all you had to do was ask. and you’re on your knees, taking off his jeans. and when he accidentally steps on your long-forgotten vibrator one day, you have to steer him away from feeling it up, despite the fact he can smell you all over it, like some confused puppy. no, honey, you should go wash your hands.. but when you use it on him? oh, he is over the moon. so whiny and squirmy, cumming so quick.

[jeffbuckleysconvent]

yes! this is exactly how I imagine sweet little college!matt

College!Matt Murdock who’s just so enamoured with you he physically can’t think straight when you’re around. Even the smell that lingers around after you leave a room is enough to drive him crazy. One night after you invite him over to your dorm to “study” and he just can’t seem to focus it clicks for you. Yet you keep going with your “study”, pretending that you have no idea that the small touches you exchange are driving him insane.

Soon enough you end up with him under you, slowly leading him through it. He’s awestruck at how good you make him feel, how you want him just as much as he wanted you. He’s determined to repay the favour. That’s when he nervously suggests something-

“I wanna make you feel good- I uh-… can I—? Do you wanna sit on my face..-?” -oh my god

He’s so innocent about it, he’s so precious, so desperate to please you. Of course your answer is yes. I mean, how could you say no to his pretty little face? God- and when you finally get to it, you look down as you’re hovering above him and have to hold back a moan at the sight. You’d never seen a man this desperate, this needy, this pathetic for you in your entire life. Oh and how he lives up to what you wanted and more.

As soon as his mouth came into contact with your pussy he was lapping at it, devouring it and practically drowning in it like it was his saving grace. Like he was searching for some sort of salvation. It was like he was trying to drag your soul out of you as he went. It was messy, desperate, sinful. But oh so good.

“Oh- oh there you go alter boy… fuck..”

He was practically pawing at your thighs like a desperate puppy as he tried to pull you impossibly closer to him, more of your weight- not just more. All of it. He wanted you to sit. Completely fucking suffocate him if you could. He needed all of you. He wanted nothing but you. He needed nothing but you. That’s all he could ask for, all he could beg for.

You.

You.

You.

As soon as he comes up after you’re done he holds you close and asks in the sweetest most sincere, loving voice,

“Did I do good?”

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

while i understand the idea of college!matt murdock who experiments with their partner especially with an intense daddy/mommy kink and tons of sex, please consider;

college!matthew and reader who are both inexperienced and constantly fumbling over one another and cumming too fast and always teasing eachother and constant back and forth of experimenting with what they do or don’t like………. virgin!college!matt and virgin!college!reader……………

[a-leg-without-fear]

*knocks on the glass door* is the coffee shop still open?-- oh yeah, seems like it! 😅

How are you doing leggie? I'd love to order a medium caramel frappé with college!Matt Murdock, please! This is my very first time ordering such drink and I want to see how it goes hehe, feel free to add anything to the order if you felt like it fits! Hope you have a wonderful day my lovely leggie! 💋💋💋

Hello, my darling!! I'd be glad to serve you a caramel frappe :) This one is a little longer than others because I was struck by ✨inspiration✨ so it'll be its own post!!! the link to this post can be found here!!!