#college!matt murdock x college!fem!reader

[yarrystyleeza]

Damn, it's been a while since I've read any fics.

Lizzi, you're always so good. So damn good! This was super hot I'm gonna need another shower I can't even process words in my head anymore 😆

^ me falling in love with your writing every time

Fictober Day 10: College!Matt

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: College!Matt (✨)

Summary: On a cold night in his dorm room, Matt decides to try and warm you up. With his fingers.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), fingering, college!Matt, Foggy gets traumatized, use of "good girl"

Word Count: 1.7k

A/n: (I’m sorry for posting this a day late.) I’m obsessed with this guy's fingers, can you tell? Something about a rainy day with college!Matt while he takes care of Reader just... does something to me.

Read Me On AO3!

Rain falls over the grounds of Columbia University, pattering against the window of Matt’s dorm room. You’re tucked neatly under the big throw blanket you knitted for him last winter, but it’s his body truly keeping you warm as Toy Story plays on your old laptop.

You met him in your Criminal Law class one semester ago. Most of the time, he would come in, sit in the row before you, open his Braille textbook, and listen silently for the rest of the lecture. You were the only person he talked to, the only person he made an effort to pay attention to. At first, you thought he had merely taken pity on you, but the more time passed, the more you started to enjoy his presence. 

It was he who asked you to dinner first; he didn’t take you out to a fancy restaurant because, after all, you were both broke college students who couldn’t afford it, but he ordered pizza, and you spent most of the night curled up on a blanket under a sky full of stars as you painted a picture of the constellations for him. He told you about his father, the accident that blinded him, and why he chose to become a lawyer. He told you about his roommate, too, and how Foggy had become his best friend he wouldn’t trade for the world. You saw all of him that night. He was no longer just the mysterious nerd from your Criminal Law class, he was the man you were falling in love with. 

The silence between you is interrupted by a rumble of thunder. You inch closer to him, seeking comfort with your head on his chest. It is an utterly ugly fall night.

“You’re not watching the movie,” Matt observes. His fingers travel from the nape of your neck down your spine. “You okay?”

You hum. “I’m just cold.”

“Yeah? Want me to warm you up?”

A shiver runs down your spine.

“Hm?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “I… I’d like that.” 

He makes you feel like a teenager. Like you’ve never really known what love is until he came along, and maybe you haven’t. 

Lightning strikes and streams into the room, illuminating his face in a white, hot glow. 

Matt rolls you under him. He’s warm against your skin. His fingers move carefully over your clothed stomach to your hip, pulling you just a little closer, and then, he kisses you. Slowly, carefully, almost hesitantly. He moves against you with utmost caution—he always does. 

He kisses you like you are a fragile porcelain doll, at first, at least. He waits for that hitch in your breath, the little jump of your heart that gives away how badly you need him before he allows himself to kiss you deeper. You taste like Chamomille tea and Chinese takeout, and a little like him.

His hand slides under the waistband of your shorts. He doesn’t dare pull the blanket away, doesn’t dare to undress you; he caresses you with the warmest of hands, kisses you with the warmest of lips, and the world just falls away.

Matt cups your pussy through your underwear. You gasp at the contact, gentle and tentative as ever. Just feeling you. 

“This okay?” he asks.

Your hand comes to rest over his. “Yes,” you breathe.

He traces a line over your clothed clit, over your folds. You shiver, but the cold has little to do with it. The room is so much hotter than it was a moment ago. The rain has disappeared into a haze of labored breathing and the steady beating of his heart against yours.

You look at him. You look into his eyes, the way he’s taking you in with every stroke of his fingers. He’s focused on you and you alone, your body a temple he needs to worship. If your skin didn’t resemble a block of ice he would get on his knees and feast on you until your legs were shaking around his head, but it’s too cold. You are too cold.

Your pulse jumps under his lips, trailing a path down your neck. “You smell good,” he whispers. 

“You feel good,” you whisper back.

A chuckle breaks from his chest. He moves the fabric of your panties aside and slowly but gradually runs a finger through your folds. 

Your hips jerk off the mattress toward his, feeling the rock-hard length of his cock pressing against your stomach. The moan gets stuck in your throat. You may be alone, but there is something incredibly intimate about being with someone who can hear and feel everything. 

“Don’t be shy, baby. I wanna hear you.”

He knows. He always knows. You can bury your face in his neck all you want; in the end, Matt always gets what he wants.

His middle finger travels from your aching entrance to your clit. The pleasure digs its nails into your belly, tying your nerves into a knot and setting fire to it—like a bomb waiting to explode.

You moan into his neck. 

“Good girl.” He circles the sensitive bundle of nerves. “So good.”

You tangle your fingers in his hair for something to hold on to. He circles, and he rubs, and he circles your clit some more. One finger turns to two. He cups your pussy, almost caressing it with how gently he’s driving you to the brink of insanity. How badly he wants to just sink into you and fuck you into the mattress until the old wood of his dorm bed breaks, but he’s content like this. Touching you, feeling you, making you come. 

He dips one digit into you. When you moan again, louder this time, he takes that as his cue to go ahead. 

Matt is only discovering you anew every time he touches you.

He sinks his finger deeper into you, feeling your walls clenching around him. “So wet,” he purrs. “Does that feel good?” Just as the words leave him, he curls his finger just so. He finds the spot that makes your toes curl with complete and utter ease; your entire body begins to buzz with electricity. 

“Fuck. Yes.” Your nails dig into his scalp. “Don’t stop. Please,” you beg.

Matt slides another finger into your tight cunt, relishing in the noises you’re making. He places his nose against your throat, against your pulse point. Your heart is beating so fast, and it’s all because of him. 

No other man has ever touched you like this.

No other man has ever made you feel like this.

And no other man has ever known you quite like he does. 

Sweat drips down your back under your thick wool sweater. Thunder and lightning take their turns shaking New York, but the only storm you can focus on is the one raging in your core. 

Matt thrusts his fingers in and out of you. He strokes your walls, strokes the fire in your belly. His thumb presses down on your clit. Right there. He plays you like an instrument.

“C’mon. You’re so close,” he says. He feels it in the way you clench around him, hears it in the way you’re thrashing and moaning and crying out for him, and he smells it. He smells it all over and inside of you.

The knot tightens. Your legs shut around his hand, though he doesn’t stop you. He wants you to get there—needs you to.

He kisses you. He kisses your neck, your collarbone, then back to your lips again. Tongues tangle and teeth clash. You are so close, indeed.

“Gonna come,” you confess. 

Matt smirks. “I know.” 

“Please, Matty.”

“I know, sweetie.” He finds that spot again, and again, and again. “Come for me. I’ve got you.”

You surrender yourself to the pleasure as the fire reaches its fever pitch, and the bomb explodes. His name is a faint cry on your lips in the empty darkness of his dorm. 

Matt works you through it, your toes curling and uncurling against the silk sheets underneath you. He listens to every last twitch of your muscles until finally, you slump and relax against him. 

“Hi.” Your eyes flutter open. He smiles. “Still cold?” he asks.

“I’m sweating,” you say.

He chuckles. “Yeah, you are.”

You meet his eyes. Your heart jumps another beat. And another.

“I love you, you know that?” He nudges your nose with his. “I love you.” 

You open your mouth to answer. You want to kiss him. You want to make love to him. You want to finish college and find a nice apartment in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen, and one day maybe marry him. Because you love him, too. 

But you get none of that out. The words are there, but before you can utter those three words back to him, the door bursts open, and a very drunk Foggy stumbles into the room. 

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!” he roars. “The prodigal son returns!”

Matt pulls the blanket up to your chin. “Foggy!” he snaps.

He was supposed to be out all night.

He stands in the doorway for a moment, a bottle of tequila in his hand, and he looks between you with a frown on his face.

“Okay, I feel like I’m interrupting something,” he realizes.

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh while Matt’s cheeks have turned red enough to rival a field of tomatoes. 

“Oh!” Foggy’s eyes widen. “Am I interrupting sex?” 

“Dude!” Matt reaches for a pillow. “Get out!” And he tosses it in his direction. 

Much to your surprise, it lands directly in his face. 

“First of all, ow! Second of all, how? And third of all,” he says, “Use protection. I’m out.”

The door falls shut as fast as it opened. 

“Sex rocks!”

You can’t hold it in anymore; you start laughing, burying your face in his chest. His entire body is hot with embarrassment. It’s cute, in a way.

“Jesus,” he says. “I’m sorry.” 

You shake your head. “It’s fine. It’s… I love him.”

“You love him?” 

“And I love you,” you say, rolling over and on top of him. “I love you, Matt Murdock.”

He smirks. “That’s better.”

“Shut up.”

He giggles, but your lips cut him off. 

You love him, and you’d be damned if you didn’t make use of your alone time before Foggy comes back.

Again.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @xnatyx @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama@bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @zomtart @ethereal-blaze

[peterman-spideyparker]

Stolen Glances (College!Matt Murdock x College!Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I've been on a writing hiatus after feeling uninspired after a long while, and I think it's kind of helped reset my creative juices. I'm entering my busy season at work, so I don't know how much time I'll have for writing in the future, but I'm back to feeling more like myself. I figured one of the best ways to return to writing was with some College Matt! Enjoy! :)

Summary: Your best friend convinces you to go out with her to a bar to celebrate the start of spring break, and to your surprise, the night takes an unexpected turn for the better when your friend calls over two people she knows from her law classes—one of whom you just so happen to have a huge crush on.

Warnings: Flirting, swearing, reader nickname (not-name specific) drinking, kissing, getting caught in the rain, smut (oral-f!receiving, Matt's mouth being a menace, praise kink, Matt being a lil' tiny touch possessive, Matt lightly biting at Reader's shoulder, p in v protected sex, aftercare)

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, OFCs

Word Count: 6,084

“Stop staring,” Amy says as she sips her drink. 

“I’m not,” you murmur as you roll your beer bottle absentmindedly on the sticky bar counter of Josie’s. How Amy even got you out tonight is beyond you. You don’t go to bars. You’re not even a big fan of going out in general. But tonight, you caved, and followed her in the rain to a dive bar in Hell’s Kitchen for cheep beer, gossip, and people watching. And it’s people watching that lead your eyes to land on one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. Matt Murdock—enter frantically smitten swoon here. He’s a law student with a voice like honey, a smile that could light up a room, and the best ass in the entire world.

Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you had to stumble into the one that he was in.

“You are,” Amy counters. 

“Not.”

“Are.” 

“Fine,” you sigh. “Glancing. Let me have this.”

“He’s single, you know. Broke up with the girl he was dating all last year.”

“Which means he’s not looking for anyone.”

“Or he rebounds fast and wants to get under someone. Er, have someone get under him. Hell, I don’t know what he’s in to.”

“Ames.”

“What? I’m just speculating. Just like you are ogling him.”

“Again, not ogling. Glancing. Besides, he’s way out of my league. And you know what? This, right here, is a perfect situation for me—it’s a crowded bar, he’s blind, no one here knows me or cares about me and won’t think twice of me looking in that direction. This is the only time I can pine after someone and not get flustered and weird if he looks in my direction or watch Cindy from my Brontë’s class try to show off her cleavage to get his attention. And she totally would, event to the one guy that literally can’t see it. Which brings me back exactly to my point—he can’t see us here or the undoubtedly big heart shapes my eyes are in.”

“What if his friend does?”

“He has his back to us, he won’t—.”

“FOGGY!”

“You are a major asshole, you know that?” you hiss as you whip your head around to scowl at her.

“Well, now, you can glance up close, see the finer details. Maybe accidentally touch his big arms?” she says with an innocent smile and delightfully raised eyebrows. “Or something else big.”

“Be nice.”

“I’m always nice. Besides, they’re my friends. You survive Professor Murphy’s class together, you’re blood brothers for life—Hey, Fog! Murdock!”

“I didn’t know you guys came to Josie’s,” Foggy smiles as they get close enough to where the two of you sit. “If I had, I would’ve invited you to some of our post-test outings.”

“Well, Kitty here is a lightweight, so it’s not often I get to bring her to bars. I think I finally convinced her because it’s the Friday before spring break and she doesn’t have to do homework right this moment,” Amy hums. She so knows what she is doing, and you don’t know if you should kick her in the shins or be eternally grateful for how Matt turns his head to you next. 

“Kitty?” Matt smiles, and it makes your cheeks burn. He wets his lips lightly as he turns his body toward you, and you can’t help but duck your gaze and shrink in on yourself a bit. 

“An unfortunate nickname that has followed me since I was four and can’t seem to shake,” you explain. “Now that I’m not four, (Y/N) just fine.”

“It’s cute, though. Maybe you’ll tell me the story.”

Fuck, why’d he have to say it like that? You’d tell him absolutely anything he’d want if he spoke to you like that again.

“Maybe,” you breathe. “Maybe not.”

The smile he flashes you is soft, dreamy, and alluring. “Someday it is, then.”

“Why don’t you two take a seat with us?” Amy asks as she swallows the last of her drink. “Have a few rounds with us. I mean, you guys know me, but let’s include (Y/N) into the fold. Probably good that you two legal goobers befriend an English major. Help you guys avoid being duped in a contract or something because of semantics or syntax or something.”

“Offense,” Foggy scoffs.

“(Y/N)’s worst is still better than your best, and you know it.”

“Down, Ames,” you chuckle, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Remember what I said about being nice?”

“Amy? Nice?” Matt smirks. “I’m afraid we haven’t earned that privilege.”

“So, how long have you known Amy?” Foggy asks as he waves Josie over for another round. 

“Too long,” you chuckle, earning you a playful kick under the bar.

“Harsh,” Matt hums.

“For someone who’s basically my sister? Nah. We’ve been friends since we could toddle around,” Amy shrugs. “You two should understand that one—I mean, roommates for two years and essentially an identical course load? You’re as good as brothers.”

“Very true,” Foggy smiles as he opens his next beer. “I mean, sure, Matt got all the good looks, but I have the boyish wit and knack for sarcastic comments.”

“Seems like a pretty perfect pairing to me,” you add. 

Foggy claps Matt’s back with a big smile. “See that, pal? Even the people that just meet us can see we’re a perfect match! Murdock and Nelson, taking New York City law by storm! Rolling in the money, the biggest of the bigs wanting us on retainer!”

“A real life Harvey Spector and Mike Ross,” Amy says with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Take it from a blind man, Nelson and Murdock has a better ring to it,” Matt hums as he sips his beer. “And while money is nice, there’s still something really nice about saving the world.“

“Matty the Martyr,” he sighs. “You know, (Y/N), my parents wanted me to be a butcher.”

“Fog, please, not the butcher story!” Matt begs. 

“Yeah, please,” Amy seconds. “(Y/N) doesn’t need to hear it.”

“Ugh, tough crowd tonight,” he sighs. “You’ll hear about it, (Y/N) . . . someday.”

“Mildly ominous. Definitely non-threatening,” you grin before everyone starts to laugh. “So, what brings you guys out? Is this a post-test outing?”

“Nah, just a Friday night,” Matt smiles. 

“Well,” Amy says, holding up her new drink. “To just a Friday night.”

You all clink the necks of the bottles together before you drink, chatting briefly before Amy playfully insults Foggy’s pool playing skills. The two of them down their drinks before they make their way to the pool table to prove one another wrong.

“I don’t know how those two are friends, sometimes,” Matt chuckles. 

“Well, Amy has three brothers,” you hum. “She loves pushing people’s buttons like that.”

“And Foggy doesn’t back down from challenges like that. Although, I agree that Amy could wipe the floor with Fog at pool.”

You laugh, biting your lip from laughing too loud in the bar. “I won’t tell him you said that.”

“Eh,” he squeaks. “I think he knows where I stand on his pool skills. I mean, a blind guy can beat him.”

You feel your face grow hot with the attention he’s giving you, but it’s all very welcome as you both begin to chat about whatever comes to your minds. For how pretty he is and how flustered you get talking into to people you find attractive, conversation comes so easily with Matt. You feel like you could tell him anything. But that’s the dangerous thing—there’s no way this could work, as a friend or for whatever your brain could dream up. He’s too . . . magnetic. You’d misread something, and in the end, you’d be the one getting hurt. Besides, if you’ve learned anything from Amy, part of being an attorney is learning how to charm the pants off of whomever you’re talking to. And unfortunately for you, you’re just the girl at the bar he’s trying to schmooze only to never see again.

“(Y/N)?” he asks, trying to catch your attention.

“Hm?” you hum, snapping out of it. 

His face is soft, but definitely concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stutter. “I was just thinking of something.” 

He raises his eyebrows, silently asking if you want to talk about it, but a small pang in your chest makes you want to run away and hide in a corner. 

“I don’t think pool is supposed to take that long,” you say, changing the subject and craning your neck around the bar to try and spot your friends. “I have absolutely no idea where Amy went. It looks like Foggy’s gone, too.”

Matt lets out a small, breathy laugh with a knowing grin.

“Do you want to share the joke with the class?”

“Fog’s been on my case lately about meeting new people. I wouldn’t be surprised if he conspired with Amy.”

“You know, I’d say that’s impossible, but Amy is always trying to set me up and calling me Hermit Homebody.”

“Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue like 'Kitty'.”

“It’s more alliterative, though.”

“So,” he hums, turning his body toward yours. “What’s the story behind Kitty?”

“You’re gonna judge.”

He holds out his pinky to you. “No judgement. Promise.”

You lick your lips before you move your hand to lock your pinky with his. 

“I really loved Hello Kitty when I was little. I basically wanted to be Hello Kitty. Like, absolutely obsessed—alarm clock, bedsheets, plushies, the whole shebang. I even dressed like Hello Kitty. Yellow shirt, blue overalls or an overall dress, and a red bow in my hair, and I had Hello Kitty socks to wear with my sneakers or little Mary Jane’s. It made getting dressed easy, but it definitely annoyed my mom after a bit.”

“That’s really cute.”

“It’s really not,” you chuckle.

“It is, trust me. And, if it makes you feel any better, a lot of free public domain braille texts were legal documents; after the accident that blinded me, that’s all my dad could really get me between hospital bills, trauma therapy and recovery, and our regular bills. I read a lot of Frederick Douglas while he did boxing practice. Between reading those and my dad’s hope for me to get a good job and use my brain instead of my fists, that’s what drove me to be a lawyer. I’m not sure I would have applied to law school if not for that.”

“Wow. That’s . . . amazing. Honestly.”

His brows furrow slightly as he tilts his head down slightly. “I like to think that I’m making him proud. But I’m afraid that I’ll end up letting him down eventually. He . . . He gave me so much, he gave up so much. For me.”

You place your hand on his that’s resting atop of the bar, giving it a squeeze. “The fact that you know the extent of your dad’s sacrifices and you’re worried about letting him down means that you couldn’t possibly disappoint him.”

Matt nods and you see his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallows hard. You could swear that you see a tear roll down his cheek, but you’re distracted when he turns his hand over to hold onto yours better, lacing his fingers in yours. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly, taking a deep breath. “Hearing that . . . it means a lot.”

“It’s just the truth as I see it.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” Matt hums as he turns his head toward you. “We could grab a bite, just walk around.”

“No ulterior motives?”

“Not unless you want me to have ulterior motives.”

You look at him, your heart beating so loudly in your chest, you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Okay,” he breathes. “Then no ulterior motives.”

“I’m not opposed to stopping at the soft pretzel cart that’s a few blocks over, though.”

He gives you a small smile.

“Something funny?”

“Beer and pretzels,” he hums. 

“Har har.”

“C’mon,” he says with a little jerk of his head. “Lead the way.”

Putting some money on the counter to cover your drinks, you slide off of the barstool, your hand still in Matt’s as he mimics your movement before unfurling his cane. You both walk in comfortable silence, recalling little anecdotes from your childhoods as you stroll along the route. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you laugh.

“I’m not,” he says with a big smile. “I got so much hell from the nuns for it. Father Lantom put on a little show and was a little mad about it, yeah, but the ‘talking to’ that he gave me was about the Yankees game. In fairness, I honestly did worse when I was younger—probably took years off of all of their lives. Probably still do, when they think too hard about it.”

“Gosh,” you say with another laugh. “You’re such a daredevil.”

“Hey, I’ve turned out just fine. For the most part.” 

“Yeah, you’ve got a point. You seem pretty alright.”

“Pretty alright?” he croons. “I’ll take it. Any pointers for how I can increase my ranking, though?”

“Well, if I told you, it’d be too easy,” you smirk as you approach your destination. “Heya, Boyd.”

“Kitty!” he beams. “Long time no see! You’re usual?”

“That’d be great. School’s been busy.”

“You know she’s in Columbia?” he starts to tell Matt. “Smartest girl I know.”

“She is amazing,” Matt says, and you feel your cheeks burn hot.

“Matt’s one of my classmates,” you explain. 

“Ah, so you’re a smart one, too. Kitty here is one of a kind—don’t do anything stupid to loose this one.”

“I’ll do my best not to,” he smiles.

“D’you want anything with yours?”

“Mustard, please.”

Boyd hands Matt his pretzel, but puts his hand up when you try to pay. 

“Not tonight, Kitty,” he says. “My treat.”

“Don’t be silly, Boyd,” you counter. “You know our rule, only on birthdays.”

“Yeah, but you included me on your date. I feel real special. All warm and fuzzy like.”

Your cheeks burn even hotter when he says “date”— you appreciate that Boyd thinks you’re in the same league. 

“Please?” you try.

“Alright. But you’re getting your change back. This one, she always tries to scurry away before I can give her her change back!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t escape,” Matt chuckles, his hand resting on your waist, the gentle touch sending goosebumps up your spine.

“Atta boy. You know, I like this one. He ain’t that bad. Here, Kitty. Have a nice night, you two!”

“Night, Boyd!” you smile. 

“Nice to meet you,” Matt adds. Once you’re out of earshot, he asks, “How come he can call you Kitty?”

“Because Boyd has known me since I was six,” I chuckle before I take another bite of my pretzel. “You’ve gotta earn it.”

“Oh, so now you’ll let me earn the chance to call you Kitty?”

“If you play your cards right.”

“Sounds like a challenge.”

“You seem like the kind of guy that likes challenges.”

He grins and raises his eyebrows as if conceding to your point before taking a bite of is pretzel, licking up the mustard at the corner of his mouth. The absolutely obscene thoughts that cross your mind when he does that would even make a sinner in church blush—but also appreciate the sentiment. You finish your pretzels quickly, continue to walk aimlessly around and talk about whatever comes to your mind.

“Wow,” you hum as you look at a clock on the other side of the park we’re walking through.

“What?” he hums. 

“It’s almost three.”

“Seriously? No.” You feel Matt’s arms shift, and you watch his fingers slide over the face of his watch. “Shit. It’s almost three. I didn’t think we were talking for that long.”

“Me either. Not that I’m complaining about it.”

“Neither am I.”

“Maybe we’re just really slow walkers?”

Matt laughs. “It is a really nice night.”

There’s a comfortable silence before you speak next. “I don’t do this, normally. Go out—go out to a bar, no less—walk with guys aimlessly around the city.”

“Tell people the story of your nickname? Or bring them to meet your pretzel godfather?” he teases gently, and you chuckle softly and nod. 

“Definitely not either of those.” You take in a deep breath before you continue. “Something feels different tonight, though, and I like it. And I only started liking it when you and Foggy joined us at our table.”

“Yeah?” he says so softly you almost don’t hear it.

“Yeah,” you confirm. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I like it, too.”

Your gaits slow before Matt turns into you, a relaxed, dreamy look on his face. It’s not a face you’ve seen him flash the girls on campus—the cocky, over-confident swagger that’s usually there replaced with something almost dreamy and entirely genuine. Your heart starts to race as he leans in, but you both freeze in place when the sky opens up and you get caught in a sudden downpour. You squeak and he lets out a soft grunt before Matt hand grabs yours, and you rush toward the sidewalk. You raise your hand to wave down an oncoming taxi, and as you both slide in, Matt gives his address to the cabbie. 

The ride is short, but it’s definitely better than making the trip in the pouring rain. When the cabbie pulls to the curb, Matt hands him the fare and the tip, opening the door and sliding out first, waiting for you to follow. He uses his large frame to try and shield you from the rain as you run into the lobby of his dorm, tracking in puddles into the elevator. 

“Would Foggy mind if I crash here for the night? I mean, what’s left of it,” you ask, your arms hugging yourself as you shiver in front of his door. 

“You don’t need to worry about him. He’s staying with his family for the first half of break,” Matt says as he slides the key into the lock, leading you into the very nice dorm apartment. “It’s just us here.”

“Ah,” you hum softly, looking around the space. “I wish my dorm looked like this. I think I chose the wrong major.”

Matt chuckles softly as he moves about the space. “Well, each year we get better housing choices, and the ADA complaint dorms were updated a few years ago. Foggy just reaps the rewards of being my friend.”

“Well, it is very nice. Definitely decorated by boys, though.”

Matt chuckles softly, walking into what you assume is his room before coming back out in pajamas, a folded set of clothes in his extended hand. 

“Thanks,” you smile as you take the sweatshirt and sweatpants out of his hands.

“Can’t have you be chilly,” he hums. “Let’s face it—Amy would kill me if I let you catch a cold.”

“You, Foggy, and then me. In that order,” you laugh. “You know, I honestly thought it was done raining for the night.”

“I’m just glad we caught a cab. And that you let me pay.”

“Well, you gave them the address to your dorm. Seemed right that you foot the bill.”

Matt chuckles as you turn to side off your wet clothes and put on his fluffy sweater and sweats. Yes, it feels a little odd to change in front of him, but it’s not like he can see you in your underwear, and you need to get these wet clothes off. And if tonight has taught you anything, Matt is someone you feel comfortable and safe around.

“Let’s hope these dry by the morning,” you say, folding your soaked clothes and putting them over the stool in the kitchen area. 

“You can keep them as long as you need. Something tells me I’ll get them back eventually.”

You blush deeply. “In a timely manner. Promise.”

“I’m not gonna force you out when the sun comes up, you know,” Matt continues. “We can go down and throw your clothes into the dryer in the morning. Maybe go grab breakfast after they’re out.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Want to go to the living room?”

“No ulterior motives?” you smirk. 

He laughs, and you swear you just made him to blush. “No. Not unless you want there to be,” he responds. 

“I don’t think I’d be opposed to some.”

Matt slides off his glasses, placing them on the kitchen table. His eyes sparkle in the moonlight coming through the window, taking a half step forward and placing his hands on your waist. You lean in to help close the space between your bodies, and when his lips finally meet yours, you feel your heart skip a beat as electricity shoots through your veins. You slide your hands up his body to cradle is face as he pulls you in even closer. The kiss is passionate, tender, and everything that a kiss should be. When he pulls back, you’re breathless and dizzy in all the best ways. His forehead rests on yours, and you desperately wish he’d lean in for another kiss. 

“Are those acceptable motives?” he whispers, nudging his nose against yours.

“Mm,” you hum. “Very.”

He smiles, leaning in for another kiss, the force of the embrace knocking the back of your legs against the sofa. You pull him into you, knocking the pair of you down on the couch, his body crushing yours in the most glorious of ways for a moment until he can position himself better on the furniture. His hands have a firm grip on your body, sending wave after wave of chills up your spine as you chase his lips for more kisses. One of his large hands cradles the back of your head, holding you closer so he can gain better access to the kiss, and you realize his glasses aren’t perched on his face anymore. You don’t even know when he would’ve have a chance to take them off. But do you really care? 

No. No you don’t.

As you make out, Matt slides you onto his lap, giving you a bit more leverage as you embrace. You lips mirror one another’s, curving up into smiles. You take in a sharp breath as you feel his hands slide under the sweater and up your back, the simple action sending goosebumps up your spine. You moan into the embrace and lean forward to deepen it, accidentally nipping his lower lip between yours. It elicits a strong response from Matt, his fingers digging into your skin, sure to leave little bruises as souvenirs before moving up to tug at the hair at the nape of your neck. His fingers should have their own insurance policy, because wherever they trace on your body feels like a million dollars—the warmth, the strength, the grip—goes straight to the apex of your thighs. Firm, relaxing, and downright sinful.

You pull back from the kiss, Matt’s swollen lips chasing yours as you lean away, turning your head to yawn. 

“Am I putting you to sleep, sweetheart?” he smirks, softly kissing your neck before moving so his face points toward yours. 

“You’re definitely relaxing me, that’s for sure,” you tell him as you look back at his face. “It’s just been a really long week.”

“We can stop if you want.”

“You stop, and I’m telling Amy and Foggy.”

“Oh, well, we can’t have that.”

“No, we can’t.”

With more smiles, you lean back into the kiss. Matt’s grip is firm on your waist before sliding his hands down and over the globes of your ass, moving to your upper thighs before lifting you up. You’re too focused on his lips to try and watch where he’s taking you, even though you have a good idea. You moan into his mouth as you feel Matt lay you down on his mattress.

“At least if you get a little too tired to keep going, you can fall asleep in a bed,” he whispers before he starts to kiss your neck.

“So kind of you.”

“I try.” He presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Can I keep going?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

Matt flashes you a devilish grin before leaning back in, his hands sliding up under the borrowed sweatshirt tracing the curves of your body.

“You can take it off, you know,” you murmur against his lips. “It’s your shirt, after all.”

He hums in delight, doing as you ask and ridding the fabric from your body and pushing it to the side. “You’re chilly now,” he hums kissing all over the exposed skin, pulling soft moans from your throat. 

It’s your turn to slither your hands up against his rock-hard body under his clothes, lightly raking your fingernails along his skin. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

“I have a few ideas.”

“Then show me.”

Matt’s lips slot back over yours, tasting every ounce of your mouth that he can. He pulls back, whipping his shirt off. You’re unable to prevent your jaw from dropping when you see his exposed chest, a little wooden cross hanging from a cord around his neck a strong contrast from his fair skin and rippling muscles. It doesn’t hang too long, the space between the two of you closed just as swiftly as it was created before his hands deftly undoes your bra. Matt’s hands slide the straps down your arms, tossing it to the side before his large hands palm at the fleshy mounds, his hips inadvertently beginning to roll against your legs. 

“Mm,” you hum as you start to mark his neck. “I’d say we’re moving fast, but, I like where we’re moving. Seems like you do, too.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Let me lay you down and make you feel good, angel.”

“Mm, ‘angel’,” you smirk as you pull him on top of you. “Sounds better than ‘Kitty’. Better not be calling any other girls that.”

“It’ll be just for you. Swear.”

“Good.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna try and stop earning the right to call you Kitty, though.”

“Consider it earned. Can even call me Kitten. Now, please tell me you have some condoms here.”

“Mm, I do. But, the thing is, that pretzel left me hungry, angel. I need to eat a little more.”

Your brows furrow before Matt holds your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. He trails his kisses down the column of your neck, moving lower with each embrace, down your chest and torso until his lips reach where your skin and his sweatpants meet. 

“Is it okay if I pull these down, sweetheart?” he asks, pressing feather-soft kisses on your stomach. “Can I kiss you there? Can I taste you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you breathe a little too quickly, moving your fingers into his soft hair. “Please.”

He smiles, kissing your belly button before curling his fingers round the waistband of the sweats and underwear and sliding them down your legs. His strong hands gently part your legs, exposing yourself to him, his soft, pouty lips kissing back and forth along your inner thighs until his nose brushes the slick folds. A soft moan escapes your throat, so quiet that you almost don’t hear it. As soon as it leaves your lips, you swear you hear Matt growl a little before diving in between your legs. This time, you moan louder, your back arching off of the bed and your fingers clutching the sheets. 

“Matt!” you squeak. His hands are firm on your hips, keeping his face buried in your core, tasting and savoring you like you’re the sweetest of desserts. Your chest heaves as you squirm against him, but each movement of your body only spurs him on to hold you tighter. He hums into your pussy, the vibrations working all the way up your body. 

“M-Matt,” you stutter, feeling yourself get wound tightly as he works diligently between your legs. “Matt, I—oh, fuck!”

Matt just hums, keeping pace and enjoying the taste of you on his tongue. You continue to whimper, whine, and squirm, biting your lip harder as you get closer to your release. You suck in a sharp breath when you feel Matt pull away from you, his face in your direction, his mouth and chin shiny with your slick.

“Don’t hold back, angel. I’ve got you,” he pants. “Make those pretty noises for me. It’s just you and me, okay? Don’t worry about if anyone else can hear. It’s just you and me.”

“Okay,” you say breathily with a frantic nod. “Okay.”

“Good girl.”

You could cum with those two words, and the quick twitch at the corner of his mouth tells me that he knows it, too. With a lick of his lips, he dives back down without missing a beat, sliding two thick fingers into you, gently pumping them and curling his fingers to squish against the perfect spot that makes your vision go spotty. You let out your loudest cry of the night, the sheer volume hurting your throat a little. It elicits a deep growl from Matt, and with one more lick, you’re quaking and unraveling on his face. Little tremors continue to jolt through your body as Matt works to lick up every last drop of you before pressing a soft kiss on your swollen nub and kissing his way back up your body. 

You lean up and crash your lips into his, desperate for him. Matt eagerly kisses you back, letting you taste yourself, exploring how you mix with him. 

“Are you up for more?” he pants as he pulls back, trying to smooth down your tousled hair. 

“Please,” you say, the faintest hint of a whine in your voice. “I’m ready.”

Matt smiles, pecking your lips quickly before leaning back and taking his sweats off. Your eyes involuntarily widen when you see just how big he is. If tonight with Matt hasn’t ruined other men for you yet, the feeling of him inside you and how it will undoubtedly linger for days will.

“You okay?” he pants as he works to slide on the condom.

“I’m doing great,” you swallow, trying to remain coherent through the bliss. 

His laugh is like warm tea with honey.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

With the condom firmly on, he leans forward to kiss you slowly. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Matt kisses you again, adjusting the pillows behind you as he lines himself up with your entrance. He places his hands on you gently, forehead resting on yours, before carefully starting to slide in. You bite your lip as your eyes flutter shut, your head suddenly becoming too heavy as you let it roll to the side and rest against his neck. 

“Matt,” you breathe.

“Prefect,” he pants as he slowly pushes forward. “Perfect.”

“M-Matt,” you whimper as you stretch around him. “Big.”

“Do you need me to stop?” he whispers. “Does it hurt?”

“N-No. ’s great. So great.”

“Say the word if you need me to stop, okay? If it’s too much?”

“Okay.”

Your faces turn toward one another, and for the briefest of moments, Matt’s eyes lock onto yours. You feel your heart skip a beat and jump up right into your throat. This is ridiculous—tonight is the first time you’ve actually met him rather than stare at him and wish from a distance, and it’s like your entire universe is on its head. Matt tenderly leans forward, his lips on yours, fueled with a softer passion than what has dictated your embraces for the night. The roll of his hips is slow, and you feel everything ten times over. You hold onto Matt as if your life depends on it, and you let him work as he marks up your neck and shoulder with little bites. 

“Don’t stop,” you plea. “Don’t stop. Matt, please don’t stop!”

Your pleas and whimpers spur Matt to pick up his pace. As he does so, his own soft moans grow louder in your ear, and it drives you wild. The springs of the mattress move from a quiet creak to an all consuming squeak, perfectly punctuated by the headboard hitting the wall.

“Matt!” you cry out, pulling probably harder than you should at his hair. 

“Such a good pussy,” he grunts. “All for me. You’re so good for me, angel. Feel so perfect.”

“Please!”

“Hm?”

“Fuck, Matt! You’re—oooohhhh!”

“Perfect f’me, angel. Such a good girl. My good girl.”

The sound of your slapping skin adds to the erotic symphony in the room, sweat quickly lining your bodies. You whimper as you nuzzle into him, muttering incoherent sentences as his pelvis rubs against your sensitive core, building you up to knock you over with intense pleasure. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders and pull a deep growl from the back of his throat. He nips at the sensitive skin behind your ear before slotting his lips over yours.

“Matt,” you whimper, really drawing out the vowel in his name. “Matt, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Let it out,” he encourages. “Cum for me. Let me feel that pussy squeeze my cock, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good. Let me hear you, angel.”

Matt kisses the sweet spot on your neck and pulls a needy whine from you. A stuttered whine pulls from your lips as your eyes pinch shut and you claw your fingers into Matt’s back. You cry out at the top of your lungs as a second wave of pleasure washes over you. With Matt in you, dragging against every right spot, it feels so much better than with his mouth. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, and you cry out in pleasure even louder. The pace of Matt’s hips move even faster, albeit at a more unsteady rhythm with an increased sense of urgency as he tries to soothe the sting of his teeth. His moans turn into grunts, a delight to your ears. 

“Harder,” you beg. “Harder, Matt.”

You feel Matt nod his head against yours, doing as you ask, his lips brushing faint kisses against your cheek. You cry out once more, Matt’s hips pulling one more orgasm from you as he hits his high, spilling into his condom with punctuated thrusts.

Your breathing is heavy as your bodies still, sweat clinging to your skin and soaking the sheets. You chuckle softly as Matt places gentle kisses along your neck, his nose tickling you just so before pulling himself off of you and sliding out. He does it slowly, and you moan softly from the sensitivity and the loss of him. He ties off the condom, shuffling out of bed to throw it away. Matt briefly rounds the corner, coming back with a towel in hand. Without a single word, he carefully spreads your legs, gently cleaning the mess between your thighs. His lips softly kiss your knees and thighs has he works, and you can’t help but smile. He tosses the cloth to the side, it landing perfectly on the edge of his hamper. Matt slides back into bed, wrapping his arms around you and letting you adjust in his hold, kissing your forehead.

“What?” he whispers so softly you want to melt.

“You have freckles,” you whisper back just as quietly as you look up at him. “They’re a little hard to see, but they’re there.”

“Yeah?” he says with a tender smile.

“Mm.” Carefully, you move your fingers against the skin on his cheek, tracing over the faint constellation on his fair skin. 

“What?” he whispers again with a little smirk. 

“How do you know I’m thinking?”

“Call it a hunch.”

You smile softly. “It’s just . . . I wasn’t planning on coming out tonight. I don’t go out. I don’t go to bars. I don’t do this. Any of this.”

“I think you mentioned that earlier,” he hums with a cheeky smile. God, his voice is like a warm blanket that you just want to snuggle up in. 

“It just felt right, with you. I’m really glad I came out tonight.”

“Can I let you in on a secret?” You give him a hum in response. He pulls you closer and presses a long, slow kiss to your lips. “I’m really, really glad you came out, too.”

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Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @loves0phelia

[chvoswxtch]

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.

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

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Waste away with me

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 6

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: swearing, brief descriptions of illness (obligatory sitcom sick episode alert), Matt being dumb, disgusting levels of pining

a/n: This was originally part of Heaven Help the Fool but that chapter would've been almost 9k so I split it up. I'm pretty proud of this half so I hope you all like it! As always, reblogs and comments are especially appreciated.

w/c: 4.4k

Swaying your hips to the rhythm of the song blasting through your headphones, you scrubbed at a particularly stubborn spot of food on the pan you were cleaning. Your sock-covered feet bounced from side to side as you danced, traipsing around your kitchen as you washed the dishes. Waltzing another sudsy item over to the drying rack, you giggled to yourself as it nearly slipped from your grasp. 

It had been ages since you’d danced around a kitchen, something that had brought you joy since you were little. You were hesitant to let yourself act so carefree, even in front of Jen and Oscar. The only person who had ever witnessed your uninhibited performances before was your mother, and spinning around on the wood floor of your kitchen when you were home alone was a great cure for your homesickness—giving you a taste of home right here in New York City. 

As you rinsed soap from the rubber gloves you were wearing, you were startled out of your daydreaming by a shrill ringtone. Peeling off the banana-yellow gloves, you answered your phone with a frown. 

“Hey Matt, you ok?” You weren’t sure why this call had already set off alarm bells in your brain. Perhaps it was because of how frustrated Matt had seemed lately, even after you’d helped him organize his room. The poor boy was drained, only more so over the last two days because Foggy had fallen ill and Matt had taken it upon himself to nurse the blond boy back to health. 

“Uh, yah. Yep, I’m good.” Matt’s voice was breathless and almost sluggish, the words spilling through the speaker just too far apart from one another to sound normal. The response did nothing to quiet your concerns. 

“Ok…did you need something?” You prompted after he failed to explain himself. 

“Oh right, um, it’s raining and I, uh, I was wondering if you could give me a ride home?” Was he drunk? His sentence was a complete thought, but it seemed like he was barely stringing it together coherently. 

“Yah, of course.” You responded, slipping a pair of shoes on and searching for your keys. “Where are you, trouble?” 

“Er, the pharmacy by the auditorium.” 

“Ok, trouble, stay dry. I’ll be there soon.” You promised, hurrying out the door and into the stormy weather. 

When you arrived at the pharmacy, your chest squeezed in sympathy at the pathetic sight before you. Huddled on a bench under the awning of the pharmacy was Matt, his hoodie soaked with rain. You could see your poor friend shaking from the cold, arms huddled around his waist as he waited. After parking your car hastily, you dashed over to him with an open umbrella, understanding beginning to flow through your mind as you studied his appearance. 

Up close, his trembling was vicious, shaking drops of rainwater off of his hair and glasses. He was breathing heavily and his nose was bright red. And, perhaps more worrying than all of those things combined, he hadn’t noticed you standing right in front of him. 

Matt always knew when you were around. It was almost scary. You and Foggy liked to joke that he had super powers, but he explained he was just used to relying on his other senses to inform him of his surroundings. 

They clearly weren’t working properly right now, though. 

“Matty?” You asked softly, braving the puddles and kneeling in front of him. Holding the umbrella up higher to shield both of you from the pelting rain, you flinched as his hand shot out, grabbing you by the lapel and yanking you forward before recognition relaxed his jaw. 

“Bug?” 

“Yah, trouble, it’s me.” Shaking off the shock that had brewed in your throat when Matt yanked you to the ground, you continued. “Let’s get you into my car where it’s warmer.”

Taking his arm gently, you guided him under the umbrella and towards your car. Matt’s body sagged against yours as you walked, dampening your own sweater with the moisture from his clothes. Once he was settled in your passenger seat, you closed the umbrella, tossing it in the trunk before racing to the driver’s side and hopping in the car. 

“Ok, Matty, am I taking you back to your dorm?” You asked, restraining yourself from brushing stray raindrops off his flushed cheeks. 

“Yes please.” His voice was hoarse, quiet. Too distant from the charming, velvet tone you loved so much. 

Nodding habitually, you backed out of the parking space and drove faster than normal through campus. 

“Why were you at the pharmacy in such shitty weather?” You wondered aloud, unsure if he had the energy to respond. 

“Getting cold medicine and tissues for Foggy.” He answered tiredly. 

“Sounds like you might need some of that yourself, trouble. How long have you been sick?” 

“‘M fine.” Came Matt’s gruff response, shutting down your genuine concern with two words. 

“Alrighty then.” You said, more to yourself than him, but you didn’t say anything further. 

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, save for a few stifled sneezes that you pretended not to hear for the sake of Matt’s dignity. In no time, you were rolling up to the front door of his building. 

“Did you want me to walk you up?” You asked cautiously. 

“No, I’ll be ok, sweetheart.” Matt sighed, seeming a bit more lucid after warming up. “Foggy is really gross right now and I’d hate for you to catch this.” 

“Ok, well, take good care of each other. And, maybe take a few days off? To rest so you don’t get sick too?” You proposed, hoping he wouldn’t be too grumpy with the suggestion. 

Matt nodded heavily, running a hand under his nose. “Not a bad idea. I'm sorry for calling you for a ride but the buses weren’t running and—“ 

“Matt,” You placed your hand on his thigh. “It’s ok. It’s disgusting outside. Even if the buses are running, you can always call me. Always, yah?” 

“Ok. I’m sorry.” 

You chuckled, squeezing his leg. “You’re forgiven, trouble. Go get some sleep please.” 

“I will. Text me when you’re home so I know you’re safe?” 

“Of course. Have a good night, bubs.” With a final pat on his thigh, you watched as Matt left the safety of your car and braved the rain as he headed up to his room. Shaking your head, you hoped he’d hold up his end of your agreement. 

Sinking into the tiny fold-up chair, you closed your eyes as the legs squeaked against their corresponding bolts. The empty chairs bordering yours did nothing to protect you from the draft that kept bursting through the door every time a student entered. Usually, there were two people sitting on either side of you to shield you from the bitter cold in the city outside. 

Holding back a sigh, you wrapped your arms around your stomach in an attempt to retain heat. You were grateful that the boys had stayed home to rest, you supposed, but their absence still weighed on you. Biting your bottom lip before it could shift into a pout, you shuddered against an especially fierce gust of wind as someone stumbled in a minute before class was supposed to start. 

You ignored their footsteps, until they entered your row; the shadow of the newcomer blocking the side of your face from the flickering fluorescent lights as they shuffled towards you. 

A pit formed in your stomach as you turned your head; deep regret surging through you for wishing you had company when you took in his appearance. 

“Matt?” You whispered, laying a hand on his arm as he tumbled backwards into his usual seat to your right. 

If you thought he had looked rough last night, he looked positively deathly now. His skin was pale and shining with sweat, no doubt from the exertion of getting to class. A bright pink flush stained his cheeks and nose, accentuating the hollow circles under his eyes. 

“Oh bubba,” You gasped, reaching out to touch his heated cheek. To your surprise, he flinched at the movement, suspending your hand in midair, doomed to hover around his face as you scolded the dreadfully ill boy. “What are you doing here?” 

Leaning into your touch sloppily, apprehension abandoned, Matt exhaled raggedly. “We had class.” His voice was strained beyond recognition, causing your own throat to throb painfully in sympathy. 

“You sound like you feel awful, Matty. You knew I would be here taking notes, why’d you leave your bed?” You tutted in soft disapproval. Fighting the urge to hold him close in front of the entire lecture hall, you moved your hand to his arm, sliding it into his elbow. His skin was burning, even through his layers; your shivering a distant memory as his fever warmed you both. 

“Didn’t want to be a burden.” Matt murmured, facing the front of the room rather than your surprised gaze. 

“Matthew, you are never a burden for needing help,” You admonished gently, stroking your thumb over his forearm. Before you could attempt to drill that fact into his stubborn mind, your professor began lecturing. “We will talk more about this later. I will take good notes, you focus on not fainting.” You hissed, withdrawing your hand from his arm. 

“‘M not gonna faint.” He muttered, but even he didn’t seem certain of that fact. 

The 150 minute class ticked by idly, the scratching of your pen diligently scribbling on paper slowly drove you mad as Matt slumped further into your personal space; his chin slowly inched towards his chest as he fell asleep to the sounds of your professor’s absurdly boring speech. Every instinct in your body was telling you to grab the kid and bolt, somehow getting him home and bundled up before he contracted pneumonia. 

After what felt like days, your professor finally dismissed you. Sighing harshly, you smiled at Matt’s sleeping face, almost feeling guilty waking him. 

“Ok, trouble, up and at ‘em.” You nudged his shoulder, catching him as he almost tumbled out of his seat with a start. “C’mon, bubs. We gotta get you home.”

“Home?” Matt slid his glasses off, rubbing at his eyes blearily.

“Yah, Matty. Back to your dorm, so you can sleep some more.” You explained, stroking a hand over his back as the students around you filed out of the lecture hall. 

“But…we have class.” Matt’s lips slid into a pout, his nose scrunching in confusion. 

“No, trouble, I have class. You are going to sleep off this wretched bug while I take notes for you and Fog.” 

Matt grumbled, but didn’t argue further. Gently tugging on his hand, you pulled him out of his chair and out the door, holding him tightly against your side as you both braved the freezing weather. 

By the time you reached his building, your jaw was stiff with concern. On an average day, Matt’s movements were graceful and calculated. As he descended into his feverish delirium, however, he began to rely more heavily on your strength to keep him from crashing to the pavement. Dragging him up the stairs, the two of you miraculously stumbled to his door without injury. 

Passing you his lanyard, Matt shifted his weight to the drywall surrounding his door as you unlatched the lock and pushed into the room. The space was shrouded in darkness, a set of thick sheets draped over the window panes to block out all natural light. 

Allowing your eyes to adjust, you rested a hand on Matt’s shoulder as he shuffled into the room. “Hey, Fog. Sorry to bust in unannounced. Wanted to make sure that Trouble here…” Trailing off, your strained eyes flitted over Foggy’s empty bed. Brow furrowing in confusion, you looked back to the dark haired boy for an explanation. 

“Where’s Foggy, Matt?”

“Went back to Hell’s Kitchen for the week.” Frowning, Matt’s brow pinched in distress. “Thought I told you that.” 

Holding back a sigh, you fiddled with the straps of your backpack as you debated how to best help the ill boy who was currently kicking his shoes off and collapsing into bed. 

“Ok, bubba,” You crouched beside him, fussing with his comforter until he was properly bundled. “Have you taken anything for that fever today?” 

Shaking his head, which knocked his glasses askew, Matt’s frown deepened. “Didn’t know I had to.” 

“You don’t have to, but it’ll help you feel better.” Gently sliding his lenses off of his pale face before they were damaged or lost, you scanned the grim space for anything that could help. Lips twitching in satisfaction when you spotted a container of Tylenol, you handed Matt a few pills and his water bottle. 

“There. That should do for now. Will you be ok if I head to class?” 

A muscle in Matt’s jaw twitched as his expression turned stony. “Yes.” 

Brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, you nodded hesitantly. “Ok, trouble. I’ll be back later to check on you. Call me if you need anything.” 

Matt nodded, but you doubted he took your request to heart. 

Shifting your backpack to your other shoulder, you sighed as the weight refused to distribute in a more comfortable way across your upper back. The fluorescent lights above you buzzed as you ran your fingers over another blanket—still unsatisfied with how soft the options were. If they weren’t perfect to you, they might not even be bearable for your friend and his sensitive skin. 

Stopping at Target before returning to Matt wasn’t strictly necessary, but the boy had seemed so chilled in class, you figured he could use a nice soft throw blanket to add to his bed. You weren’t quite sure how to care for a sick person, but you had a few ideas give your own experiences. 

You’d picked up soup from a local deli, printed off the notes you’d taken in class today using the braille printer, and were tossing the softest blanket you could find into your cart before hurrying to check out. Though it had only been a few hours, you were growing increasingly worried about Matt and the fact that he was all alone in his dark room, hopefully not coughing his lungs out or burning up with fever. 

Setting the bagged blanket back in your passenger seat, you blew out a breath before shifting your car into drive. The city lights blurred in the corners of your vision as you jerked forward in the line of evening traffic, worming your way closer to Matt with every lift of your foot from the brake pedal. Eventually, you were able to squeeze into a well-worn parking space. Flipping open your phone, you hoped that your ill friend would be coherent enough to grant you access to the building.

After a ring, an out-of-breath Matt answered with a brief, “Hello?”

“Hey! I, uh, brought you some stuff. Are you able to let me in or should I lurk until someone leaves?” You asked distractedly, craning your neck to see if you could dash for the exit as a group of boys left.

The boy huffed a laugh, knowing you were only partially joking about waiting for entry. “I'll be down in a second, Bug. Please don't scare the regulars.“  His voice was still more stuffy than normal, but he seemed to know what was going on--which was an improvement from this morning.

You snorted in response. ”No promises, Matty. I'm impatiently awaiting your presence.“ Your voice sing-songed with the last sentence, making him groan.

”Alright, alright, I'm coming.“

Sure enough, a few minutes after he abruptly ended the call, a hoodie-clad Matthew leaned out of the door frame and waved you over. ”Hurry up, sweetheart, it's cold outside.“

Smiling at the familiar fond-exasperation and sarcasm that your friend had been lacking lately, you darted across the parking lot, squeezing his bicep as you passed. ”Maybe you should've worn a jacket, trouble.“

“Maybe I should've.” He smiled, letting the door whoosh closed behind the two of you. “You didn't have to come back, you know.” His voice shifted into a murmur, his expression becoming unreadable as he slipped his hand into your elbow thoughtlessly.

Gently bumping your hip into his, your face flooded with warmth as he smiled at the action. “Course I did, trouble. I wasn't about to leave you here to wallow in your misery alone. Being alone when sick is the worst.”

Matt shrugged as you reached the top of the stairs, panting slightly from exertion as he pushed his door open for you. “I wouldn't know.”

Smile falling, you looked back at Matt, his body turned away from you as he closed the door and slipped out of his shoes.

“What do you mean, Matty?” You wondered aloud, settling yourself on his bed and clasping your hands around the handle of the shopping bag you held as you waited for his response.

”Oh, I mean, growing up in an orphanage and all,“ Matt chuckled hollowly, keeping his face tilted away from you, his body desperately trying to stop you from seeing through his stoicism, as you always did. ”Always too many kids and too little time, the sisters couldn't exactly sit at my bedside. And I wasn't exactly popular amongst the kids, so I guess I never had anything to compare the loneliness to.“

Matt tangled his hands together, squeezing them as he spoke, as if he wasn't quite ready to sit back down.

”I mean, I'm sure my dad was good about it, but I can't really remember--“ His voice cracked off into a jagged coughing fit. Sliding from the mattress, you ushered him into a seated position.

”Careful there, trouble. Still gotta breathe.“ Rubbing his back as he caught his breath, you handed him his water bottle--grimacing when he grinned at you maniacally.

”You sure? Choking to death is pretty fun.“ He rasped, sipping the water slowly.

Scoffing through a laugh, you shook your head, planting yourself next to him on the bed. ”That's dark, trouble.“

Smirking as he finished the water, Matt gave a one-armed shrug. ”You've heard darker.“

”Touche.“ Kicking your feet like a child on a swing, you chewed the inside of your cheek. ”About what you said, Matty--“

Groaning, Matt fell backwards onto the mattress, bouncing you with his weight. He threw an arm over his face. “I was hoping we'd just move past it.”

“Were you?” You raised an eyebrow, unsure how truthful the statement was.

“I mean, nothing we can do about it now.” He muttered, his jaw tensing beneath his forearm.

“Well, that's not exactly true...” You argued, unwrapping an item from the thin plastic bag you'd hauled in. Unfurling the large square of fabric, you draped it over Matt carefully, quickly turning back to organize the rest of the supplies you'd brought. “I'll just have to teach you.”

”Teach me what?“ Matt croaked, lifting his head to allow his ears to track your movement as you bustled about, his fingers absentmindedly petting the soft blanket you'd thrown across him.

“How to be sick,” You responded matter-of-factly, not entirely alleviating Matt's confusion.

“Pretty sure I'm doing that just fine without a lesson.” Matt chuckled, gesturing to his pale face.

“Oh, you have definitely got the pathetic wallowing handled.” You nodded, returning with a container of soup and a spoon.

“Pathetic?” Matt pouted, his nose crinkling in offense.

Ignoring him, you withdrew one of his hands from the blanket envelope, placing the plastic tub into it. “I'm going to teach you how to be cared for. Lesson number one: Letting people bring you soup. It's the first step to a speedy recovery“

”These lessons feel incredibly subjective,“ Matt groused, face briefly lighting up as he placed the first spoonful of soup into his mouth, digging into the container earnestly as the taste hit his tongue.

”To the contrary, Murdock, these lessons are based firmly in statistics.“

”I'd like to review your citations.“

Pretending not to hear him, you continued. ”Lessons two and three are soft blankets and rest--two things that I know you're not familiar with, so I'm afraid to say you might not be credible to comment on the validity of these remedies.”

“My blanket is plenty soft.”

“Oh is it? I mean, I can take this back if you don't want it.” As you moved to retrieve the blanket from around him, Matt growled, hands clenching around fistfuls of the fuzzy material.

“I'm sorry, would you like to keep it?” You grinned, your smug attitude seeping into your words.

Matt feigned an eye roll. “Well if the experts think it'll help me feel less shitty, I guess it's worth a shot.”

“See, that's the spirit!”

Smiling, Matt cocked his head at you. “What's next on the syllabus, Professor?”

”This is the best part, Matty,“ You said excitedly, rummaging through your bag to find the item you were thrilled to share with him. ”Jen let me borrow her iPod! I downloaded an audiobook for us.“

Taken aback, Matt had to consciously remember to breathe before responding. ”That's...you didn't have to do that, bug.“

”I figured you'd probably be bored, sitting here without Foggy all day. And, I haven't passed the bar yet, but I'm pretty sure it's illegal to do homework when you feel like crap.“

Matt shook his head with a small laugh. ”What book is it?“

”It's called The Alchemist. I read it with my mom last year when she was undergoing treatment. I think you'll like it.“

”Thank you, sweetheart.“ Matt could feel a flush spreading over his cheeks that was unrelated to his current fever. Feeling entirely exposed and vulnerable, he took a leap. ”I...uh, I really didn't enjoy being by myself this afternoon. I'm happy that you came back.“

”Of course, Matty.” You murmured, stroking stray wisps of hair from his forehead. “I never want you to be alone if you don't want to be. I'll always come back to you.”

The heaviness of that statement didn’t escape either of you. Sitting in silence for a moment, Matt was unsure whether he wanted to laugh or cry.

“Even if you're ridiculously grumpy when sick.” You sighed dramatically, shaking your head.

Your stupid joke decided his next move, startling a laugh from his mouth. ”I'm not that bad, am I?“

”I guess we'll find out, won't we?“ You giggled. ”But don't worry, I'm not easily scared off.“

Maybe you should be. His brain immediately supplied. Praying his face didn’t betray the immense doubt that abruptly smacked him upside the head, he focused on the feather-light touch of your fingers in his hair. 

Before his mind could spiral any further, you spoke again. “If you ever need space, say the word and I'll be gone. It has been recently brought to my attention that I'm not great at taking hints.” Your thighs brushed together beside him as you shifted nervously. 

Frowning at your words, he leaned into you. “What do you mean, sweetheart? Who brought it to your attention?“

Huffing a bitter laugh, Matt could practically hear your walls going up as you backpedaled. ”It's nothing, Matty. I didn't mean anything by it–”

“Bug, please don't lie.” Sliding a single hand out from his blanket cocoon, he groped around until his fingers found yours, intertwining them. “Talk to me?”

Breathing deeply, you confessed. “At the Halloween party, a couple weeks ago, I heard Everett talking to his friends, they were ragging on him for being whipped or some stupid bullshit and he...fuck I can't believe I'm still upset about this.” 

You scoffed at your own frustration, running a finger over Matt’s knuckles absentmindedly. “Instead of defending me, or even just saying nothing, he called me clingy. And, ever since, he, like, refuses to acknowledge me in public.”

“I'm so sorry, sweetheart.” Matt felt a familiar rage bubbling in his stomach, churning fiercely at the thought of you being so insecure because of an idiot like Everett.

“It's fine, I mean, I talked to him about it, he apologized, I just...” There was a small thunk as you leaned your head backwards against the drywall. “I dunno, clearly I can't stop thinking about it.”

“You're not clingy, bug. You're sweet and attentive and he's–” He's an idiot if he doesn't think that. He couldn’t say that, could he? God, he was too sick to be thinking this hard. “He's probably so mad at himself for saying it.” He finished. Why was he defending this asshole?

”You're probably right. I just...what if he was right?“

”He wasn't.“ Matt snarled, deflating as your touch reminded him of your fragile emotional state. ”I mean, hell, if you're clingy that would make me a parasite.“

Tutting in disapproval, you nestled closer to him.

Chuckling morosely, Matt continued. ”Fuck, bug, I mean–when you left for class, I almost lost it.“

”Aw, Matt, you should've called me.“ He could hear your brow folding in concern.

”It's fine, I mean, I've done this alone for 10 years, I don't know why it was so hard all of a sudden.“ Matt scoffed, trying not to dwell on how weak he felt for admitting that.

”Well that's probably why, isn't it? This is the first time in 10 years you've surrounded yourself with your people, trouble. Once you've found them, it's hard to let them go.“ Squeezing his hand, your lips twitched up. ”Especially when you're not at your best.“

Nodding in agreement, Matt sighed. “Sometimes, I can hear the voice of my old mentor. Telling me not to trust people, not to get attached. And, when you two aren't here, it's harder to ignore that voice, to remind myself that it's ok to...to not want to be alone.”

“Of course that's ok, bubs. No one wants to be alone, not even your asshole of a mentor.“ Matt laughed at the anger in your tone. ”I know it doesn't make up for the fact that I left, but I brought you my notes so you won't fail?“

Smiling, Matt rubbed his face into your shoulder. ”Of course you did.”

“What?” You giggled, admiring his sleepy grin.

“Nothing, bug. You're just good at this. Taking care of people.” Burying his face in your neck as your arms wrapped around him, he whispered, “I'm so happy I met you.”

“I'm happy I met you too, Matty. Wanna listen to the book as you fall asleep?”

“I'm not gonna fall asleep.” He argued, his words muffled by your shirt.

“Sure, Matty.” You adjusted so that you were properly holding him up, your hand once again taking up residence in his soft hair. The narrator began reading the book's publication details and you settled in, tipping your head until it rested against Matt’s. 

Taglist: @eugene-emt-roe@abbyhaslongshorts@mrs-bellingham@abucketofweird@yeonalie@jadeunstablexx@spider-murdock@0ctober-writes@danzer8705@mattmurdockstateofmind

[gallaghersgal]

𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 || 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐤

pairing: college best friend matt x fem reader

summary: things are beginning to change between you and your best friend Matt.

warnings: EXPLICIT 18+, unprotected p in v, virgin reader, soft soft smut, little bit of a marking kink/possessive matt? there’s like 2k of exposition/foreplay 🤭🤭 mostly unedited, sorry for any mistakes

A/N: this is a repost due to technical difficulties, the fic was not showing up in the tags 😧 anyways this is a BIRTHDAY GIFT FOR DEVON EVERYONE DAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEV !!!!! love u to death devvie, thank you so so much for the idea for this fic, im so glad i’m finally posting it !!

wordcount: 5.5k

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx

Something was changing between you and Matt. You could feel it in the air. His touches were softer, and his arms held you a little tighter. The words that came from his lips fell softer on your ears like he was dipping them in honey.

Now, in the dim light of his dorm, he was so close to you. Strong arms wrapped securely around you, one settled on your shoulders, the other draped across your tummy. The scents of teakwood, cinnamon, and cardamom fill your nose as you breathe, settling closer to him. Your hand rests on his stomach, you shudder at the feeling of his warm skin under your fingertips where his shirt has ridden up. This should feel risky, pushing the border between friendship and something more, yet it doesn't. It feels like the most natural thing in the world.

You trace little patterns on his skin, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to bask in this comfort. A little sigh falls from his lips. He is as content as you are. Your fingers form hearts, stars, the letters of his name, anything and everything you can think of until you let your hand rest. You don’t feel the need to fidget, to pull away. You only snuggle closer and tune back into the movie playing on his TV.

As the credits begin to roll you resume the movement of your fingertips, waiting for him to suggest the next movie. Instead, he hands the remote over to you, settling his lips against your hair. “Put some music on.”

Your heart begins to race. You wonder if he can hear it. You don’t know it but he can, that’s what prompts the soft smile on his lips. You place the remote down on the bedside table and snuggle closer, opening yourself to whatever may be happening. It’s been a long time coming you think, you’ve had this stupid, growing crush on matt for the past few months. The two of you had always been close but something changed this year. He had a single dorm, you found yourself knocking on his door when you needed an escape from life, from your work, from your roommate- when you needed an escape from the world. He always greeted you with open arms and that trademark grin of his. You started spending nights. You started leaving your things. And before you knew it you were here.

Your name falls from his lips, soft, floating to your ears as light as a feather. “Matty,” you respond. You feel his fingers brush the bottom of your chin, they tilt your head up until the two of you are barely an inch from each other. He is so close. You take in the color of his eyes, the way his lashes brush his cheek. He moves in impossibly closer, closer, closer until his lips are on yours. The taste of the chocolate lingers on his lips. You melt into him, bewildered and excited and more comfortable than you’ve ever been. His hand squeezes your hip and for once you don’t shy away, you don’t feel self-conscious, instead, you feel warm inside.

His arms wrap fully around you, lifting you into his lap with casual ease. You straddle his hips, resting your forehead against his. “This alright?” he asks. You just kiss him in reply. His hand brushes under the hem of your hoodie and you gasp, his tongue slipping past your lips. A soft, subconscious whine escapes you. You feel Matt smile against your lips. Heat pools in your lower belly, and you hold yourself back so you wouldn’t start rutting against him. You don’t want to take things too far.

His hands explore your body as his tongue maps the corners of your mouth. Fingertips brush your hips, dipping town to your tummy then moving up to caress your neck. He settles on cupping your cheek firmly for a moment, his other hand remaining on your hip. Gentle lips begin to stray from your own, first kissing the corner of your lips, then past your chin and onto your neck. The hand on your cheek moves back to your side, brushing under the hem of your shirt and exploring your skin.

Something about this makes you feel unbelievably comfortable. Matt isn’t pressuring you in any way, but rather gently guiding the way. You’re breaching new territory. You’ve never been with someone before. If Matt was your first, fuck, you wouldn’t be opposed. The furthest thing from it. You’ve wanted him for a while now.

His lips reconnect with your own and you begin to grow bolder, tangling your fingers in his soft hair. You feel him smile against your lips, silently encouraging your actions. You kiss him for a moment longer, content to soak in all the sensations you’re experiencing. Then you take your turn to kiss his neck, moving in a slow and calculated manner. You want to go as slow as possible, and savor every second of contact. Matt’s hands roam your back until they brush the hem of your bra and he traces the intricate lace pattern.

He says your name again, a breathless whisper, and you come up to face him. He’s breathless, a star-struck grin spreading across his lips. “Sweet girl,” he murmurs. Your heart speeds at the name and, unbeknownst to you, Matt files that away for later. You lean in to kiss him again, slipping your tongue past his lips to taste him. The two of you move like tides, pushing and pulling in tandem. Your kiss is a wave crashing against the shore, and Matt is the tide that pulls you back. Gently, he pulls away, panting against your lips. “I know you wanna rut against me. Don’t be shy. I’ve gotcha.”

You shift your hips, seeking the friction you so desperately need. Your body courses with warmth, desire thrumming just underneath your skin. Even through the material of your sweats, his jeans are rough, grating against your core. It’s good. You chase the feeling, moving your hips slowly against his as he kisses you. The bulge in his pants rubs deliciously against you. Everything is so warm, so gentle, and easy. You relish the way Matt kisses you, sweet and slow like time doesn’t exist. Like you are the only thing in the world that matters to him. And truthfully, at this moment, you are. He won’t say it now, but eventually, you’ll know. You are his world.

You grow more and more comfortable as the seconds pass, your body taking bolder paths as it moves against him. Your hands push under his shirt, fingers stretching up to his chest before gently scratching back down. His skin is smooth, soft, and flushed. You take a moment to breathe, your hips still pushing against Matt’s. Your lips brush his cheek gently before you bury your face in his neck, relishing the warm feeling of his skin on yours. He shifts his head to lay a sweet kiss on your hairline, whispering in your ear, “you doin’ alright?” His voice is low and gentle. It resonates through your head, filling the last worried corner of your mind with nothing but ease and comfort. You nod, resting your hand on his chest under his shirt. Strong hands squeeze your hips, grounding you. A soft whine escapes your lips as he guides the motion of your bodies together. “C’mere, sit up.”

You do as you’re told, finding you like this angle of friction as you straighten your back. You move your hips, reaching back on Matt’s thighs to steady yourself. You feel the thick muscle tense under your hands, and he must be enjoying it too because he swears under his breath as he tugs at the hem of his shirt. Once he’s gotten it off he sits up a little straighter, meeting you where you are and wrapping his arms around you. The connection feels like electricity, zinging just underneath your skin. He kisses your lips once, his lips then traveling to your neck. He sucks on a spot just below your ear, just enough that it’ll leave a bruise in the morning. The thought of going throughout your day wearing a mark of his need enthralls you. It’s almost as if you’ve been claimed. You trail your nails up and down his spine, trying to slow your brain from jumping to conclusions as he kisses your neck, his strong arms holding you close and moving your body against his own. Warm lips brush the shell of your ear in tandem with nimble fingers tracing the skin just under the hem of your hoodie. “Can I take this off you?”

“Please,” you breathe. He removes the clothing with the utmost care, cupping your cheek and pressing your chests together as he kisses you. Big hands roam your sides, pressing into the soft divots of your back. Worshipful. Matt is worshipping your body with his hands, tracing every stretch mark, every curve, all of it.

“Beautiful girl,” he murmurs, pulling away so his hands can trace the front of your body.

“Matthew,” you scold. You’re being playful, but deep down your words are rooted in insecurity. “How could you know if I’m beautiful or not?”

Matt stills, a soft look coming across his face. “Well, the perception of beauty is a little… different for me. Do you really want me to tell you?”

You feel your cheeks flush as you reply quietly, “yes please.”

“Alright, pretty girl, lay down for me.”

You maneuver off him, smiling at the slightly awkward shuffle around. You prop a few pillows behind your back, settling so that you’re comfortable. Matt sits his weight on your thighs and you take a moment to look up at him. You’re sure if he could see the look on your face he’d tease you for it, star-struck adoration melting into your features.

“You know,” he begins, fingertips skating over your hips. The slow drag feels like fire on your skin. “I wasn’t always blind. I lost my sight when I was a kid, but before that, I loved to sit out on the steps and watch the sky change colors as the sun set.”

He traces lines across your stomach, like the clouds and the layers of a sunset. “When I lost my sight it got a little harder. But after a while, I started to find the beauty in the world again.”

“Where did you find it?” you ask. You cover one of Matt’s hands with your own, wanting to feel more connected to him. He raises it, intertwining your fingers. The warmth of his palm soothes you. The two of you are tangled, not just physically, but in all aspects of the word. Your lines were destined to converge like this, something in you knew it from the start.

He’s quiet for a moment. His eyes unknowingly searching, as if he’s delving into the depths of his memory. You wonder what it’s like inside that beautiful mind of his.

“I found it first in the hymns they would sing at mass. Something about the way it would resonate off the ceilings, it was like I could see the architecture again.” He traces the lace edge of your bra, fingers barely brushing your soft skin. You suck in a breath, in awe of him. Matt has been through a lot, you know this. The fact that he remains so sweet and genuine will never cease to amaze you.

Matt turns your hand and presses a kiss against the back before placing it gently at your side. He traces his finger up your shoulder and towards your chin, grasping it between his thumb and forefinger. “Found it in nature, like the smell that comes after a rainstorm. Or the crisp air as summer turns to fall.” He leans in until his lips are nearly brushing yours. “It’s everywhere. You just gotta know where to find it.” He kisses you firmly, you feel dizzy from it. He’s casing you in, encapsulating you within his presence. You never want to leave.

As his lips move to your neck you become acutely aware of the arousal you’ve been feeling. “There is beauty in being kind,” Matt whispers against your neck, “you are one of the kindest people I have ever met.”

Warm lips trail to your chest, sucking gentle marks into the soft skin. He reaches behind you, fingers grazing the clasp of your bra, waiting for permission. You lean down to kiss him, nodding your go-ahead. He removes it oh so gently, warm hands coming to cup the delicate flesh. “There is beauty in being genuine. You always speak your mind and I admire you for it.” His kisses travel to your stomach, “there is beauty in your voice, it’s always been such a comfort to me.”

His kisses gain more heat, teeth nipping at your skin as he travels lower. “And the noises you’ve been making tonight,” he murmurs, nipping particularly hard at your hip. You whimper before he soothes the skin with his tongue, leaving a gentle kiss over the blossoming mark. “Pretty girl, those noises are the most beautiful of all.”

“Matthew,” you breathe. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he kisses along the waistband of your sweats, each brush of his lips sends heat directly to your core. You want this more than you have wanted anything in your life. You would be fine if Matt had his way with you, not pausing to ask your permission. You would give yourself to him, wholly, without a second thought. But here he is, treating you with as much gentle adoration as possible.

“Please, beautiful girl, can I have you?”

“Yes. Please-” you bite your lip in anticipation as he begins to pull your sweatpants down your legs. You feel so vulnerable, so open, and yet you feel so safe. He traces the lace of your panties with one finger, and you nearly giggle thinking about how you convinced yourself to wear a nice set. Just in case, you had told yourself. You never believed it would happen. Warm lips fall sweet on your skin, littering the area just above your waistband with kisses. You close your eyes and revel in it all.

Matt hooks a finger in the waistband, pulling it down excruciatingly slow. He’s teasing you, you know it. You tighten your grip on his hair, urging him on. He pulls them off and tosses them to the side, standing to remove his jeans. He kisses up your calf to your thigh as he returns, smiling against your skin. His lips find your own and you kiss him hard, grabbing his arms to hold him close. You feel the bulge in his boxers as he grinds against you. Your mind is so quiet, there is nothing but Matt. The taste of chocolate on his lips, the smell of his cologne, and the feel of his body against yours. It’s all-encompassing. His arms cage you in physically, you feel so secure knowing he’s surrounding you.

You pull away to breathe, gasping against his lips and staying close. You don’t want to back off. He rubs your arm with one hand, kissing your cheekbones gently while you breathe. “Can I ask you a question?” he whispers.

“Of course,” you respond, finding his lips to kiss him. “Anything.”

“Is this… am I your first?” There’s not a hint of malice in his voice, he isn’t judging you. You feel nothing but warmth and safety. You nod, no need for words as Matt’s forehead rests against yours. “Are you sure you want this? You can say no and I’ll stop right now. We don’t have to do anything.” You nod again. “You gotta say it,” he urges.

“Yes, Matt, please. I want you.”

He smiles, landing a kiss on your lips that takes your breath away. Nimble fingers slip down your body until they dip between your thighs, finally feeling you. You whimper, gripping his shoulder. “Fuck, baby,” he whispers. “Gonna make this so good for you, you deserve it.”

He’s sweeter than sugar, your Matty. Your Matty. You suppose you can say he’s truly yours, if only for the night. You’ve wanted him for months. Now that he’s here, so close, and touching you like this, you can barely believe it’s real.

“What do you do when you’re alone,” Matt whispers. “Do you go fast? Slow? How do you touch yourself.”

You feel your cheeks flush, this feels dirty, but you love it. “I- I usually start here,” you guide his fingers to your clit, moving them slowly. “Do that for a little while, then I-” you cut yourself off, embarrassed. You feel shy, you had always felt the need to hide when it came to your desires, and your pleasure. Matt was opening you up in ways you never could have imagined.

“Come on sweet girl, say it for me,” he encourages.

“Then I use my fingers,” you say. The butterflies in your stomach increase and you close your eyes, letting yourself feel.

“How many?” he asks. “You’ve got such pretty little fingers. Don’t wanna hurt you with mine.”

“Fuck,” you curse. His words are so dirty. You feel yourself growing wetter at the mere thought of his fingers buried inside you. He kisses your lips, urging you on. “Usually two, sometimes three if I really wanna feel it,” you confide.

Matt says nothing but slips one thick finger inside of you. You whimper and buck your hips, his finger reaches further inside than yours ever could. He rests his forehead against yours, fucking his finger into you at a steady pace. “How’re you feeling?”

You moan as he curls his finger, your eyes fluttering open to look up at him. He looks so pretty looming over you, hair falling into his eyes, his lips pointed upward in a little grin. You watch as he licks his lips, awaiting your response.

“Feels so good,” you say, leaning up to kiss him.

“Good, he murmurs against your lips. “That’s what I wanna be hearing.”

You cry out as he eases another finger inside of you. The two curl just perfectly, hitting all the most pleasurable spots inside you. The calloused pads of his fingers brush your walls just so, building the pressure inside you more and more with each stroke. You grip his bicep, nails digging into his skin, and he leans in to kiss you fiercely. He still tastes like chocolate, you lick into the corners of his mouth as your hips buck up into his hands.

He’s fucking you so good with his fingers, steadily increasing his pace. He’s good at this, experienced, his fingers move so fluidly as your orgasm begins to build. It burns white hot in your belly in a way you’ve never felt before. It seems so easy, the way he’s supporting himself with one arm, kissing you occasionally as he fingers you.

You close your eyes again, allowing yourself to soak in the feeling. Pleasure rolls in gentle waves from your core up to the base of your spine. Your thighs are tense, and your calves are too. As you take mental stock of the state of your body you begin to realize how tense your muscles are. You take a deep breath, allowing the tension to melt away, starting with your neck and shoulders. You place one final kiss on Matt’s lips before you relax against the pillow. The feeling spreads down your spine as you let go, handing yourself fully over to the feeling of Matt’s fingers inside you. You relax your hips, your thighs following after as you succumb to the pleasure.

Your eyes snap open as the feeling begins to overtake you. The crest of the wave is rushing towards you, and of course, Matt knows.

“You’re close, I know you are,” he whispers, pressing gentle kisses to your neck, “You're squeezin’ my fingers so tight. Let go, beautiful girl. I’ve got you.”

You stop trying to hold it back. His fingers are filling you so well, pumping in and out of you at the perfect pace. Every few strokes he curls his fingers into that sweet spot inside of you. The way he knows just how to please you, how to make you fall apart, only adds to the experience.

“Matthew,” you moan, as the wave breaks. Your orgasm washes over you and fills your body with a tingling warmth. Matt presses his forehead to yours, a soft smile gracing his lips. You begin to shake as the motion of his fingers becomes too much, pleasure verging on the edge of pain. You press your lips to Matt’s as he draws his fingers away from your core.

The two of you pant into each other’s mouths as you pull away, Matt coming to rest against you. You can feel him through his boxers, he’s rock-hard. His hips shift against you, you can tell he’s holding back. “You did so well for me,” he whispers. “Was it good for you?”

You giggle, giving him another kiss. “Very.”

“That’s good,” he smiles. He lays back, one arm supporting his head. Your chest is still heaving as you lay by his side, tracing your fingers over his stomach. You bring your hand down his front until your fingers are brushing the hem of his boxers. “Oh- you don’t have to,” Matt says.

“I want to,” you reply against his lips. Tentative fingers break the band of his boxers, nails scratch the coarse hair you find there. You search out the warmth of his cock, taking him in your hand and pumping in soft, languid motions. Your brain goes fuzzy as Matt groans against your lips, kissing you harder. You go slow, not wanting things to end too quickly. You still want to feel him inside you, be as close as possible to him as he stokes the fire in your belly once more.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” he praises. You smile at his words, your heart fluttering in your chest at the thought that you are making him feel this good. “You’re a natural.”

His tongue slips past your lips as you keep stroking him, gaining a feel and a rhythm in your actions. “Matty,” you whisper to him. “Want you inside me now, please.”

You feel his smile spread against your lips. “You sure honey?”

“Yes, please,” you answer.

His grin widens and he presses you gently down onto your back. The kiss he gives you is different than the ones before, deeper, something indescribable lingering in the feel of his lips. He makes sure you’re comfortable before he takes his cock in hand and lines it up with your entrance.

There’s a stretch as he pushes into you, your head falls back against the pillow and you breathe a ragged gasp, fingers coming up to grip his biceps. Sure, it hurts, but at the same time it’s warm, and the ache melts away into pleasure as your body adjusts to the new sensation. “Fuck- it feels-” your words catch in your throat as he bottoms out, hips pressing flat against yours.

“Do you need a minute? Want me to pull out?” Matt asks, brushing your hair out of your eyes and cupping your cheek. He cares so deeply for you, to the point it aches in your chest. You are safe here.

“Just- stay still for a second.” You breathe in deeply, allowing the burn to settle into a pleasant, warm feeling. You lean up to press your forehead against Matt’s, kissing his lips softly.

He returns your kiss with gentle lips, whispering as you pull apart, “all good?” You nod your confirmation and he kisses your cheek. “If you want me to stop, just say so, alright?”

“Yes- Matt please, move.”

Matt does as he’s told, pulling out slowly before pushing back in. A whine leaves your lips as he continues at this pace, achingly slow but so good. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he says, leaning in to press his lips against your own. You close your eyes and become surrounded by Matt. His strong arms holding you close, his lips pressing into yours, and the sweet burn of his cock inside you. He fills every one of your senses, keeping you warm and safe in an all-encompassing embrace.

The way he drags against your walls with each stroke sends electricity through your spine. You find yourself wrapping your legs around his waist in an attempt to draw him deeper, clinging to his arms like he’ll disappear if you let go.

His lips travel towards your ear and he whispers to you, “talk to me sweetheart, tell me how you’re feeling.”

It takes you a moment to find your words, mouth agape as he sucks mark after mark into your skin. You wet your lips, threading your fingers through Matt’s hair and moving him until his lips hover over your own. “Feels so good Matty, fuck.” You let him kiss you, muffling your moans into his mouth.

You never want to let this moment go, you want to keep this feeling forever. The way he’s fucking you, the soft groans leaving his parted lips, the feeling of your skin on his, everything. It’s all too beautiful. You can’t believe this is really happening to you. You’ve loved Matthew Murdock for so long, and now that he’s finally yours you don't want to let him go again. It feels so good, and yet it’s not enough. You want Matt to claim you. You want to feel him long after he’s done.

“Want you to go faster,” you manage to pant into his lips. “Please- want it harder.”

“Fuck,” Matt responds, kissing you softly. He increases the pace of his hips, his thrusts becoming sharper. You feel the red-hot coil in the pit of your stomach begin to build again, Matt’s strokes bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. You attach your lips to his neck, sucking a mark where you know it will be visible. “That’s it babygirl, want ‘em to know im yours.”

You whimper softly at his words. “Fuck, Matty, you’re mine,” you say, pulling his hair gently.

“And you’re mine,” he whispers in your ear. “All mine. Don’t want anyone else to even look at you, sweet thing. I want you all to myself.” His thrusts accentuate his words, claiming you over and over as he fucks into you. His teeth sink into the pretty skin of your neck once more, leaving mark after mark.

You’re racing toward your orgasm at an alarming pace, dissolving into a whimpering mess. “I’m close,” you tell him, bucking your hips against his own. The pleasure you’re experiencing is nothing like you’ve ever felt before, your entire body hot and tingling with the intensity of it. You feel the wave building once more, rushing toward its peak.

“That’s it, let go,” Matt murmurs, his forehead resting on yours.

The movement of his hips becomes more purposeful, each stroke hitting all the right marks, taking just the right amount of time. One of his hands comes to circle your clit, and you’re gone. You arch into him, crying out his name as your orgasm washes over you. Your body sings his praise, thrumming with pleasure, with fire, all at his hand.

He works you through it, praising you as he continues to seek his own pleasure. “You did so good for me baby, you feel so fuckin’ good. Tell me if it’s too much, m’kay?”

You nod, kissing him as his hips start to move erratically. In a moment of pure heat, you sink your teeth into his bottom lip, your fingers tugging on his hair in tandem. Your actions push him over the edge, spilling white hot inside of you. You squeeze his hips with your thighs, bringing him close as he buries himself inside of you.

The two of you pant into each other’s mouths, foreheads resting together as you come down from your high. Matt deflates, pulling out and flopping down beside you with a sigh. You remain on your back, allowing your heart rate to settle down. There’s peace between you, there always is, you never feel awkward around each other.

“That was…” Matt starts, turning back on his side so he can face you. His pretty, unfocused eyes are darting around, almost as if he’s trying to find you. You reach up, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“Yeah?” you say.

Matt just smiles. He leans in, kissing you with a warmth you’re not accustomed to. And yet, something about it is so uniquely Matt that it feels familiar, comfortable even. You stroke his cheek with your thumb, smiling against his lips. You pull away, watching as his lips lift into a sweet smile as well.

“How’re you feelin’ sweet girl?” he asks. His voice is low, nearly a whisper. The moment is intimate, almost more so than your previous activities. His fingers caress the features of your face, tracing the curve of your cheek and tilting your chin up for one more kiss.

You hum in contentment. “Feel good,” you murmur. “Thank you.”

Matt laughs a little, sitting up and pulling the blanket over his lap. You move to rest your head on his thighs, wanting to remain as close to him as possible. “I’m glad we finally did that,” Matt says.

“Finally?” you ask.

“Yeah. Wanted to do that for a long, long time.” He answers. You giggle, feeling giddy. Matt has this effect on you, you blush in his presence, and grin the second you’re away from him. It had been a problem. You suppose maybe you won’t have to hide it anymore, now. “I’ve wanted you, for a long time,” he adds.

You prop yourself up, feeling his arms wrap around your torso as you go in for a kiss. The feeling of his warm skin on yours is one you’d like to remember forever. He is firm and solid underneath your soft form, his strong arms wrapping tightly around you.

“Matty,” you say with a soft voice, peering into those sweet brown eyes of his. “I’ve wanted you for a long time too.”

He cracks a grin that makes your stomach fill with butterflies, shining from ear to ear as he pulls you impossibly closer. “I want to take you out on a date, please. Stay here tonight. We can go for brunch tomorrow.”

You nod, “I’d love that.”

Matt gives you one more kiss, then pulls the blanket off his lap and scoops you into his arms. “C’mon, let’s get cleaned up sweet girl.”

He runs a warm shower, holding you under the water, gently washing your back, and placing kisses on your cheek as he does so. You relax into him, leaning your back onto his chest as the warm water relaxes your muscles. You wash his hair for him, the domesticity of it all overtaking you. There is something so comfortable in doing this with your best friend, exploring your relationships, and following where your desires lead. You don’t know when the soap had washed from your body or when the water began to run cold, but at some point, the two of you moved from the bathroom back to the bedroom. Matt folded your discarded clothes and placed them in a neat little pile on the chair in the corner, offering you his softest hoodie and a pair of sweats for you to sleep in. His hair is messy and spiky from the way he ran a towel through it, a pair of gray sweats slung low on his hips. He holds a hand out to you, pulling

You find yourself cozy in Matt’s arms, laying your cheek against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. His arms keep you safe, one large hand planted on your hip, the other gently petting your hair. You yawn, snuggling further into his chest, and you feel his lips tick up into a smile as he kisses your forehead.

“Tired?” he asks.

You nod. “You tuckered me out, Murdock. Haven’t felt this sleepy in a while.”

“Just relax, I've got you.” He squeezes you tight. “Sleep well sweet girl.”

You feel your body melt into his, comforted by his mere presence as your head moves with the rise and fall of his chest.

[devils-dares]

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."

[j-eryewrites]

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

“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.  

__________

Tag list: @bartokthealbinobat

Comment below if you would like to be added to the tag list...or if you want more to the story :)

_________

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch 26]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.6k

ao3 link

Depression is a funny little emotion.

It starts as a seed planted in your stomach by some inconsequential action that slowly grows throughout the day until it is strangling you. Tendrils sprout and creep up your sternum, creeping through your airway and constricting your lungs, making it just a little harder to breathe. Your chest feels tight and no amount of closing your eyes and counting slowly will make the feeling go away. The vines go for your heart next - weaving between the arteries and veins and squeezing until you are hyper aware of every beat it makes. 

You know you cannot let anyone know what germinates inside of you, so for hours and hours and hours do you pretend you can function properly. You ignore how heavy your heart feels or how much your throat stings. You turn off the urge to cry and scream and beg because you know there is no point to it. There is no relief. No amount of comfort will free you from the jungle forming inside of you. All you can do is wait.

Wait until you are finally alone, and the growth is finally allowed to bloom in your brain. Thorns pierce you, pumping their poison into your thoughts. Sap leaks from your eyes as stems force their way up your throat until leaves sprout from your mouth. You are consumed from the inside out until you are a hollow husk of a person.

And who would want to be around that?

Who would want you?

No one is the answer.

 It has always been no one. 

Your parents were the first to show you the truth. There was no care or comfort in your childhood - you were set aside and ignored.

You’ve never blamed them for this. As much as it hurt and as much as it messed with your self-worth, you’ve always understood they were not meant to be parents. You are sure they loved you in their own way, but the lack of affection left your soul to wilt.

College was no better. You made a few friends but quickly learned the meaning of superficial. They did not have time for your awkwardness and personal issues - this was their time to grow and blossom. So, you buried yourself in your studies and were always grateful when they were kind enough to invite you somewhere. 

When you started having romantic relationships they warped your mind even more. A few sweet words would lure you in, then you would become a caretaker and a warm body. Their needs were always top priority and yours were never to be acknowledged. You were strung along to a breaking point or told you were no longer needed, even when you were still heart eyed over them.

A few rounds of this showed you your niche in the world. 

You’re a background character. A friend of a friend’s girlfriend. A one-night stand. Minnie’s mom. 

You don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. You are meant to assist others - meant to raise your daughter to her full potential. 

You’ve long accepted this, which makes it all that much harder when Matt smiles at you like he does. 

You believe he cares for you - he is full of love - but you know there isn’t anything deeper in it. 

You are the mother of his child, a child he is head over heels for - it is natural for him to grow affectionate towards you. He finds you physically and sexually attractive and you yearn for that.

But you know you are nothing but a placeholder.

You have his attention now and you want to bask in it, but next week, next year, or maybe in two years, that attention will move onto someone who deserves it. Someone who is exciting as he is - someone who is smart and passionate. Someone who understands his life and what being Daredevil entails. Someone who cares about the injustices on the streets and does something about it.

Someone who isn’t broken. 

Someone who isn’t a shell going through the motions. 

Someone who isn’t you.

You want to cover your ears and pretend you don’t know the truth. You want to bury yourself in the three little words you thought you heard, but you know you can’t. 

You can’t do that to yourself again. You can’t handle another heartbreak. Another disappointment.

Another reminder you are Nothing. 

You can allow yourself to enjoy your time - enjoy the touches and kisses and moans - but your heart must remain locked away. 

Matt can have all of you but that. If you allow yourself to have hope it will hurt all the more when you have to let him go. 

And you’ll let him go easily when that time comes. You’ll step aside without a fight because his relationship with Minnie is more important than you will ever be, and you are not going to be the reason for a rift between them. You are not going to deny Matt time with his daughter because his destiny is with someone else. 

It will hurt, but it has never mattered if you hurt.

You just want them to be happy.

----

The progress bar on your screen is finally full and you now have the option to select ‘continue with install’. You click on the button, then warily eye your laptop as new windows pop up with technical information you do not care about. 

Work is pushing a bunch of new updates through their system, and because you are remote, you have to play IT to get your machine up to spec. They sent you an email with everything you need to do, which is to sit back and click a few prompts, but they failed to mention the process would take hours and that your laptop would be useless during that time. 

It is nearing two in the morning, and you are starting to run out of steam and patience. 

Between installs and reboots, you have cleaned pretty much everything in your apartment that you could without risking waking Minnie up. You did dishes and dusted. You cleaned out the pantry and washed the windows. You even swept the carpet to get out any lingering dog hair.

You’ve tried to sit and watch something, but it left you fidgety and you couldn’t pay attention to what was being said and you had no chance in hell of following a plot. You attempted to play around on your phone, but you became angry at yourself for not having the funds to buy things that were advertised to you. After Minnie’s birthday and your hospital bill, your bank account was getting dangerously low.

You want to turn off your brain and do your job. You don’t have to Think when combing through orders and producing invoices. 

You don’t want to Think anymore. You are so tired of Thinking. 

You slump into your chair and bury your face into your hands. You’ve got no way to calculate how much longer all this technical setup is going to take or how much longer you are going to have to stay up. The only relief you have is knowing you are being paid for this time, since the email specifically told you to be on the clock while running everything. 

You debate going over to the couch and trying to nap. You could set an alarm so you can periodically check on your computer, but you might disturb your sleeping toddler. The alert could be set to vibrate only, but would that wake you up if you really fell asleep?

Your only solution is to stay awake and try to find something to do to distract yourself. 

As you start to consider deep cleaning the linen closet, your phone lights up with a call from an unsaved number. It takes but a moment for you to recognize the sequence and your heart leaps into your throat as you answer.

“Hello?”

“You’re up late,” Matt teases as a greeting, his voice a few octaves lower than normal and sending a delightful sort of chill up your spine. “Working hard?”

“Hardly working,” you groan in response, but the mere fact he is calling has your lips turning up into a small smile. “My computer is doing updates and I’m waiting for it to finish. It’s been going for hours.”

Matt hums in sympathy and you wonder if he is just getting home. The fact he is a superhero is still very hard for your mind to wrap around. Sweet Matt, who lets his daughter put star stickers all over his face, is the same man who so routinely breaks people’s arms that local ER staff have a monthly betting pool about it - a little fact you learned from Karen. The man in videos dangling someone off a high rise or a bridge is the same man who becomes a clingy octopus when asleep. 

You understand his need to protect the city and you admire it, but fear and uncertainty gather in your belly when you think about Matt out on the rooftops. You are terrified of him getting hurt, despite the fact you trust him and his abilities. You know there is always a bigger threat out there as well as the possibility of an accident. Matt may be amazing, but he can’t fight a random act of God.

Three light knocks from behind you rip your thoughts and you turn in your chair to see Daredevil, in all his red suit glory, standing on your fire escape. He cheekily waves at you as he snaps his flip phone shut and stores it in a hidden pocket. You scramble up and over to the window, yanking it open. He waits patiently, though a bit smugly by the smirk on his lips, as you figure out how to remove the screen. He climbs through with ease and once he is inside, he starts removing his gloves and helmet.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as you close the window again. You aren’t opposed to him coming by, but this is the first time he’s done so, and you aren’t exactly sure of the protocol. Is it a social visit? Does he have some Daredevil news to share with you?

Before he replies, he shakes his head much like a wet dog would. His hair is damp with sweat and the skin that was previously covered is glistening. There is a slight tint of red to his usual paleness and you wonder if he is hot to the touch as well. You try not to squirm at the thought.

“I always check on you before ending patrol,” he finally says, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. He sets his helmet, gloves, and batons on the window-blocking table, then steps to you, reaching up to cup your cheeks when close enough. “I need to make sure my girls are okay.” 

The words come out of him so easily and you want to melt into them like you do with his touch, but your mind is quick to remind you that you’ve given him reason to have to check up on you. This isn’t him being sweet - it is him making sure you haven’t somehow managed to kill yourself. 

Before you can mentally chastise yourself and pull away, Matt is closing the distance. He brings you into a sweet and slow kiss and for a few wonderful moments, your mind goes quiet. His lips are so soft against yours and you can just barely taste the salt from the sweat that has dripped down his face. It ends far too soon, and you try to tell yourself you are not disappointed.

Your thoughts kick back into hyper drive, and as you notice how damp Matt’s hair really is you imagine he would appreciate some cold water. You gently pull away from him, turning as you do to head towards the kitchen. 

“Did anything interesting happen tonight?”

“Nothing out of the usual,” he answers as he moves to follow you. “There was a kid breaking into cars that stuck out, though. He should probably be on his school’s track team if he isn’t already - he made me work to be able to catch him. It was actually a little impressive.”

That would explain the sweat then. It is already warm out and racing through the streets in leather sounds exhausting. It makes you want to shower just hearing about it.

You find Matt’s designated cup and fill it using the pitcher in the fridge. As you pass it over to him, you question, “what did you do once you caught him?”

He doesn’t answer, instead taking the water and downing it all in just a few gulps. Since it is clear he is in need of it, you quickly refill the glass.

“I gave him a warning and let him go,” Matt says after taking another sip, “He seemed like a good kid just getting into the wrong things. I think being chased by the Devil will scare him off crime, at least for a while.”

That warms your heart a little - you like Matt’s sense of justice and how he does not have a hard stance on what is black and white. He truly wants to help the community and not rule it. 

You have to turn away as he drinks his second glass of water. You want those brief moments of mental silence back and watching his throat work only makes you want to kiss him again. You think he wouldn’t mind it if you threw yourself at him, but it isn’t the time or place, and honestly you are a bit scared of the idea that has that kind of effect on you. 

It is something to crave and ask for and get addicted to. If he can turn off your brain so easily, all you will want to do is touch him.

Ever on high alert, you see Matt roll his neck and shoulders as he goes to put his glass into the sink. The movements look a little stiff and anxiety takes hold as you hyper analyze every movement he makes, “Are you alright?”

He pauses at the question, clearly confused by it. He tilts his head back and forth in minute ways like he does when he’s searching for something before answering you. 

“Why do you ask?”

You feel yourself start to flush at the counter, feeling a little silly. If there was anything actually wrong with him, he has a competent nurse on call, but you can’t stop your worry. It courses through you like your blood and you know it will fester and nag if you have any doubt. But you are still hesitant as you vaguely motion to your own neck, “I don’t know, you were out all night. I just…I want to make sure you’re, okay?”

You know that Matt is analyzing you, listening for something you’ll never hear. His lips dip into a frown for a microsecond before lifting up into that soft, beautiful smile you are becoming so fond of. “I’m fine, darling. Just a little stiff is all. It’s hard to have good posture when crouching on a rooftop.”

You take in the words, and you can easily picture Matt on the edge of a building, sitting like a gargoyle. It does ease your own tension that he isn’t injured, but your head just keeps spinning. 

Matt came all the way into Chelsea to check on you, the least you could do is make it worth his while. Offering yourself up for sex doesn’t feel appropriate at the moment, but you have more up your sleeve than just that.

The words tumble out of you before the idea is fully formed, “Do you want a massage?”

The shock on Matt’s face is nearly priceless. His brows shoot up his forehead and his mouth parts just slightly and a small voice in the back of your head wonders if anyone has ever offered him one before. You know his upbringing was as barren as yours, but given he is a fighter, you would have guessed someone would have given him one. 

Finally, he nods, his smile starting to come back, “That sounds amazing. If it’s okay with you - I know it’s getting late.”

“I’ll be up anyways,” you tell him quickly, not wanting him to think it is any inconvenience to you. “And it sounds more enjoyable than more cleaning.”

“Okay.” His boyish grin gets even bigger, and your stomach does a funny twist. “Where do you want me?”

You direct him to sit in front of the couch, on the ground, and as he removes the top half of his armor, you go to fetch wet wipes and lotion. You do not want to be rubbing Matt’s sweat all over his back - you are going to be trying to help him relax and that is a little bit disgusting. 

As you come back to the living room, you have to remind yourself you aren’t supposed to throw yourself at him. It is not fair how good he looks shirtless - he’s well defined and muscular, but not so overly buff it is gross. It’s clear his muscles are for athletics and not to show off how cool he is. His scars only emphasize that. You have no idea how he got them all, but you very much want to lay him down and run your tongue over each and every one. 

Your view changes as Matt plops himself down in front of the couch, seemingly unaware of your various mental crises. You tell yourself to Behave before your feet start moving again. When you get to the couch, you maneuver yourself to be behind Matt and have to bat away all your thoughts again at the sight of his shoulders.  

You force yourself to focus on the task in front of you. As you grab the wet wipe to start cleaning off Matt’s back, you advise him, “Let me know if I go too hard or if anything starts to hurt, okay?”

Beneath your hands, he huffs, “Darling, I don’t think you’ll be able to hurt me. If anything, the harder, the better.”

Your face heats up a little at his words. You remember he said something similar when over you on the couch just a few nights ago. He likes things a little rough. 

Once his shoulders are mostly sweat free, you get to work. 

You start with smoothing your hands down his neck, then fanning out to the edge of his shoulders and back. You aren’t exactly an expert at this, but long ago in college, one ex liked to play video games while you rubbed his shoulders and you had done your fair share of research to make sure you were doing it right. You still remember most of the tips. 

You add some of Minnie’s scent free baby lotion to your hands, then dig your thumbs into Matt’s neck. The muscles are tight and as you begin to push and pull at them, a deep, pleased groan comes from the man under you.

“Mmm, that feels so good.”

You can’t help but smile at the praise and it only encourages you to make sure the entire experience is enjoyable. 

It is surprisingly easy for you to get completely lost in the massage. You focus in on one area and mentally picture different little arrows telling you to rub up this way or swirl your thumbs in a certain motion. Matt’s shoulders quickly become a grid for you to complete and not a laborious task of trying to bond. 

Under your unskilled fingers, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen melts. Whenever you find a knot - and there are many - he grunts and sighs and you can tell he is starting to relax. The tension in his shoulders fade and you actually get to see the moment his jaw unclenches. He opens his mouth and scrunches his nose, making the apples of his cheeks plump up. You peek at the television to catch his reflection and your heart warms at the pleased look on his face.

You wonder if it would be possible to get him to fall asleep like this and decide that is a challenge for another day. Right now, you want to pamper him. 

You slowly work your fingers back up towards his neck, then decide to take a chance based on what you know he likes. 

As you reach his hairline, you tilt your fingers forward so your nails are against his skin, then begin to slowly scritch at his scalp like he’s an overgrown cat. 

The results are instantaneous. Matt pushes his head into the touch, a low guttural moan coming up from his throat. 

It is Filthy. It goes right to your core, making you clench around nothing, and you can’t stop yourself from asking in a soft, teasing voice, “Feel good?”

He hums in an affirmative, tilting his head back far enough that he needs to lean against the couch for support. You keep your fingers where they are, as it's clear he is trying to direct you to where it feels the best - the top of his head. You scritch there, smiling as you fluff up his hair even more. 

Matt looks absolutely blissed out - his eyes are closed, his lips are parted, and you are pretty sure if you keep at this, he might just turn into Jello. 

Which is exactly what you want. 

He works so hard for everyone, running himself into the ground to bring justice to Hell’s Kitchen, and you think he needs some time to just relax. 

So, you begin to plan.

As you gently drag your nails through Matt’s hair, you let your mind begin to think up ideas for a nice family spa day while your laptop and dark thoughts sit on the dining room table, forgotten about.

---

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[bellaxgiornata]

Bella's Masterlist of Matt Murdock Fics

Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Series

Falling For the Devil [Installment List]

Warnings/tags: 18+; series contains lots of smut, fluff, angst, humor

A very long series/collection of one-shots about a nervous/awkward journalist Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock. Meant to feel like a realistic look into dating Matthew Murdock and all the sweet, vulnerable, sexy, and dark sides that come with him. Reader also gradually gains more confidence in and out of the bedroom as the relationship progresses.

All These Years [Installment List]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, and eventual smut

You met Matthew Murdock unexpectedly at Columbia University and you couldn't deny that there was an instant attraction–for you. But for Matt, you became as close of a friend to him as Foggy did. As the years pass by, your feelings only grow for your best friend, but all you can do is watch as he dates and sleeps with every other woman on campus and eventually in New York City but you.

Seeking Forgiveness [Installment List]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

Matt always made protecting Hell's Kitchen his priority, you knew that when you'd begun dating him. What you hadn't expected was just how much he'd eventually make it a priority over you, breaking promise after promise to spend his time with you. But when you unexpectedly discover that you're pregnant and Matt yet again breaks a promise to you, the pair of you end up in a fight that ends the relationship before you can even break the news. Though when he later learns the truth, Matt becomes hell bent on seeking your forgiveness.

The Devil at Your Window [Installment List]

Warnings/tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

In the middle of a New York City blizzard, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen accidentally lands himself on your fire escape–quite literally. When he accepts your invitation to warm up inside your apartment, you're surprised at how well the conversation flows all night with the curious and attractive masked vigilante. He's intriguing, though what you find even more intriguing is his unexpected returns to your window after that night–and his flirting. But when it seems like you're not the only one beginning to develop real feelings, he pulls back and you're left wondering two things: Why did he disappear and who really is the mysterious Devil that you've inevitably fallen for?

Break the Tension [Chapter List]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Warnings/tags: 18+; Enemies to lovers, sexual tension, smut, semi public sex

When Marci first asked you to be the Maid of Honor at her and Foggy’s wedding, you'd already been forewarned that your old college rival from Columbia, Matthew Murdock, would be Foggy’s Best Man. And while you'd expected a long weekend filled with tension between the pair of you, you hadn't anticipated all of the sexual tension–or the sex.

A Favor from the Devil [Series Masterlist]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Mom!Reader

Warnings/tags: 18+; Domestic abuse, depictions/mentions of sexual assault, struggles with past trauma, canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut (possibly more warnings to come)

Between working cases at Nelson, Murdock, and Page and combating crime as Daredevil in Hell’s Kitchen at night, Matt had little time for much else. Until a new neighbor moves in across the hall and you attract his attention with your odd behavior. But when your quiet four year old doesn't just befriend the Devil–she unravels his biggest secret–Matt only grows closer and more protective of the both of you. Inevitably he learns the truth of your past, but that's not what surprises him most. It's a favor you ask of the Devil–a favor that initially leaves Matt conflicted.

Borrowed Time [Installment List]

Warnings/tags: 18+; heavy angst, hopeful but not happy ending, canon-typical violence, death

While walking home after your night shift at Metro-General Hospital, you meet the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen by chance when he saves you. Your brush with death leaves you contemplating the concept of fate and predetermined events, but Matt insists God wanted him to save you that night. Though you can't help but wonder if you really were just living on borrowed time...

Keep Coming Back to You [Chapter List]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains smut, angst, horror, multiverse travel, zombies (yes, that's right) friends to lovers to enemies than back to lovers

Serena Jones–that definitely wasn’t your real name, but it was one you’d chosen for yourself when you’d lost your old life years ago. Now you belonged nowhere, always hiding in the multiverse just trying to stay alive and away from Them. You’d been on the run ever since you’d been pulled into Nightmare 1–a hellish world that you somehow fell back into whenever you lost control of your emotions. For the last few years, all you’d ever known was running–until you met Matthew Murdock. He was the only person you’d ever let get close enough to love, but he was also the only one who broke your heart. And for some damn reason, no matter how far you tried to run, you kept finding yourself right back in his path.

You've Been Gone So Long, Baby [Chapter List] 《Completed Series》

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains heavy angst, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

Matt had never let anyone so deep into his life until you. But when everything was going so perfectly, when he didn't think he could possibly be happier, he loses everything he loves in a single second–and he's absolutely powerless to fix it.

Holding on to You {UPCOMING SERIES}

Warnings/tags: 18+; angst, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, friends to lovers, violence/attempted sexual assault, depression, alcohol use, eventual smut

In the continuing search for your missing brother, you move to Hell’s Kitchen and hire a private investigator–Jessica Jones. Unemployed in a new city, Jessica recommends you for an office manager position that opened up at her friend’s law firm: Nelson, Murdock, & Page. It isn’t long before you form an ill-advised crush on your boss, Matt Murdock, but he seems more interested in his associate Karen Page. Or he was, until one day both Karen and Foggy disappear along with half the population. While Matt continues to hold on tight to the law firm, he keeps you firmly at arm’s length. But while you grow closer to Jessica, spending evenings drinking away your pain with her, the infamous Daredevil seems oddly determined to keep you close.

Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader/Frank Castle xFem!Reader Series

Jealousy [Installment List]{Coming Soon}

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Fitness Instructor!Reader and Frank Castle x Fem!Fitness Instructor!Reader

Warnings/tags: 18+; Sexual tension, flirting, lust/love triangle, friends with benefits, smut, jealous Matt and Frank

Your days are spent training members of Fogwell’s Gym as well as keeping the place running for your elderly uncle. Though if you were being honest, your favorite part of working at Fogwell's had always been the handsome man who'd long ago struck a deal with your uncle to use the gym after hours. Despite his constant denial, you'd quickly figured out that he was Daredevil. While the pair of you had often flirted during his late night visits when you were still around, nothing more had ever happened between you two. Until one day he shows up with a very attractive friend and everything changes. You soon find yourself the center of both their attentions and unable to choose either one. But what's wrong with a little competition among friends?

Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader One Shots & Shorts

Catcalling the Devil

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader

Warnings/tags: drunk Reader, humor, terrible flirtatious comments, and lots of appreciation for the Ass of Hell's Kitchen

A night out takes an amusing turn when you accidentally and drunkenly catcall the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

You Promised

Pairing: husband!Matt Murdock x fem!Reader

Warnings/tags: 18+; shower smut, oral m!receiving, that damn crucifix necklace, and a little bit of choking

Matt is a giver, he always has been. He's also terrible when it comes to asking for what he wants–but that changes tonight.

Half of Forever [Series Masterlist] 《Completed Series》

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader

Warnings/tags: break up, pining, idiots in love, angst with a happy ending

Everything had always felt right with Matthew. He had been your other half. Your forever. Until he went and shattered your heart when he ended things. But even after the years apart and your attempts to move on, Matt had never managed to stray far from your thoughts. Though unknown to you, you'd never quite left his, either.

How Far Does it Go; When Does it End?

Pairing: Matt Murdock x depressed!fem!Reader

Warnings/tags: 18+; depiction of depression, suicidal ideation if you squint, confession of feelings, and angst with a hopeful ending [please don't read if any of this could be triggering]

It's been weeks that you've just been going through the motions day by day. But when you decline yet another invitation to Josie’s with your friends, a worried Matt takes it upon himself to check up on you.

As Luck Would Have It [1] [2]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Warnings/tags: Humor, fluff, and a charming, teasing Matty

Stressed out while working on a dead-end case at Nelson, Murdock, and Page, Matt isn't too thrilled when Foggy interrupts and asks him for a favor. Despite his annoyance at another task being added to his list of things to do, Matt is shocked when the potential client Foggy asks him to call turns out to be a wrong number. What's even more surprising is how much Matt enjoys chatting with the woman on the other end of the line.

Acquaintances

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Warnings/tags: 18+; bit of light angst, running into exes, brief fluff, and a hopeful ending

He was once the love of your life in college–someone you'd been planning a future with–but seeing him now, he felt just like a past acquaintance in a bar.

If We're Being Honest [1] [2]

Warnings/Tags: Angst with a happy ending, confession of feelings, delayed comfort, anxious Reader

Already having an awful week, you're a bit out of it while at Josie's with your friends, too busy sulking and drinking down your feelings to keep up with conversation. The sight of Matt wandering off with a beautiful woman yet again certainly doesn't help. But when you stay behind by yourself to finish your drink and wallow a bit more, you're surprised when Matt reappears and offers to let you stay the night at his place. Eventually, the night takes a turn you weren't anticipating.

Right Here, Right Now

Warnings/tags: 18+; smut, public fingering, and Matt being a little shit along with his filthy mouth also deserves a warning

Matt had been working hard on a case for over a month now, meaning the two of you had barely seen each other in weeks. After he, Foggy, and Karen finally have their win in court, he invites you out to Josie's to celebrate with them. Though it soon becomes apparent to you that he has something in particular on his mind tonight.

Distracted

Warnings/tags: sweet fluff, hurt/comfort

Matt has meditated around you many times before, and every time you've always had the urge to sit in his lap and see how he'd react. So, this time you do.

Stop, Just Breathe

Warnings/tags: panic attack, emotional hurt/comfort, light angst, fluff & a soft Matty, Matt POV

When Matt returns home from work, he finds you on the verge of a panic attack and quickly tries to calm you back down.

Under the Weather

Warnings/tags: 18+; Nothing but fluff and a stubborn, flirty Devil

Despite the fact that he's coming down with a cold, Matt refuses to heed your advice on staying inside instead of running around Hell's Kitchen in the freezing autumn rain. In the morning, you're left with an even sicker, more stubborn Devil.

Underneath the Mistletoe

Warnings/Tags: Nothing but holiday fluff and first kisses

Tired of enduring the obvious pining between you and Matt, Foggy and Karen plan a way to get you and Matt to admit your feelings - or at least to kiss.

Too Much

Warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, poor Matty is in need of a hug

With his heightened senses, tonight is one night you know Matt is guaranteed to need some comfort.

Matt Murdock x OFC Series

Life Worth Living [Chapter List]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains fluff, angst, violence, PTSD, smut; also contains our beloved Defenders and lots of plot twists

When Olivia Allen moves to Hell's Kitchen hoping to start over in a new city, she doesn't expect to form a crush on her charming and persistent neighbor, Matt Murdock. Plagued by her past and desperate to be "normal," Olivia must come to terms with who she is in order to protect the life she fought hard to build. But as she eventually learns, her powerful and dangerous ex-boyfriend isn't the only one she needs to worry about. After all, there's secrets about herself even she never knew...

Caught in the Undertow [Chapter List]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains fluff, angst, domestic violence, PTSD, smut

Eight months ago Emily Diehl moved from Hell’s Kitchen to the Upper West Side as her wedding photography business successfully took off. But between her recent, traumatic break up with an ex who won't leave her alone and her increased workload, she's lost touch with her friends, family, and herself. Struggling through grief and depression, Emily ends up confiding in one of her best friend's and former crush along with her old neighborhood's mysterious vigilante, Daredevil–though Emily doesn't realize the two are one in the same. Every day she is left wondering what it will take to find herself again. And as she slowly finds her way back, she's beginning to wonder just why Daredevil cares so much...

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hello lovelyy, hope ur doing good! 🫶🏼 can i request a studying w college matt fluff? where he is like all boyish and sweet and perfect and boyfriend ughhh

ps.: yes I KNOW i only request for him 😭 but im new to the fandom and obsessed w him.. sometimes i feel like the hype on him is kinda gone idk.. so if you do not feel like writing, it its all good! thank uuu and love ur blog! 💐

hii my angel!! I am and hope you are too!! so so cute and ofc!! it depends on who you follow bc matty gets lots of love on my dash. if you want i can rec some matt writers? but if you follow me, I have a feeling you probably follow them already😭 thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

he’s the prettiest

STUDY BUDDIES.

college matt murdock x fem!reader — fluff

word count. 353

At the end of every school week, you and Matt would have a long, laborious study session to complete all assignments before the weekend rolled around. They would be tedious, but they were worth it when it meant you could have a couple of days together, interrupted and enjoying the other's company.

You would always be far more productive when you were in the presence of your boyfriend, though most would think otherwise. His silent encouragement and support would give you the push you needed to work through your copious papers and assignments - his hard work ethic also rubbing off on you.

You were in your dorm, you at your desk, Matt laying on your bed - braille papers bunched and resting atop his chest —disregarded—

Both of you were trying to cram as much as you could before calling it a night, each of you far too tired to be using your brains in the way you currently are.

"I can't do anymore," you sigh, twisting in your chair to face Matt. "My head will explode," you playfully groan, standing to join him on your bed. 

"I can help?" he offers, scooching across the mattress - making more space for you.

You flop beside him and curl into his side, head resting atop his paper-covered chest. "No. No, absolutely not," you laugh softly, far too weary to give it any more than that. 

"I didn't mark you down as a quitter," he lightly chuckles, stroking a hand up your spine - gently nudging you closer to him. "Shame on you," he teases, pressing a kiss into the top of your forehead.

You peer up at him, his signature boyish smile out and on display. "Did you even finish your assignment?" you ask, gesturing to the papers beside him. 

He hums, tone somewhat sleepy. "Forty minutes ago."

"Forty?" you repeat, lifting your head from his chest, trying to find signs of a lie on his face. "What have you even been doing for forty minutes?"

He hesitates, the corners of his lips tilting back up into a soft grin. "Listening to you."

[peterman-spideyparker]

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

“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.

“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.

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

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

[rev-glut]

When We’re Thirty

Chapter One: Candied Promises

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: One night, left to your own devices, you and Matt get drunk and promise to marry each other if you’re both single by thirty. Thirty’s a long way away anyways. You both meant it, but it doesn’t really have to mean anything. Besides, you still have to get through the rest of college.

Info: Starts in their college years! Slow burn-ish? Marriage pact. Friends to lovers. Reader is fem-leaning, mostly she/her pronouns will be used but occasionally I will use they/them (this chapter has one instance of Reader being referred to by pronouns being used and it’s they/them). Tag list open, just send an ask and make sure you have the right settings to be tagged. 2.4k words.

Notes: The new DDBA trailer + Matt’s birthday threw me into a writing frenzy for a few hours. Happy (late) birthday to my husband, our Devil, Matthew Michael Murdock.

Visit the library, it’d be appreciated.

Series Masterlist AO3

Next to Matt, on a bed that is far too small for both of you but you always make it work, is a place you often find yourself. Usually Foggy would be here with you two but he had left for the weekend. Leaving you and Matt to get drunk by yourselves as your cheeks warmed. He had abandoned his glasses for the night after letting you try them on. They sit on his nightstand where you had carefully placed them.

You scoff and lightly shove Matt, smiling all the while. His wide grin never leaves his face, even as he says, “If we’re both single when we’re 30 we should marry each other.”

“If you’re still single by the time we’re 30, I’m going to think something’s wrong.” Matt is currently single, but he has a plethora of people coming and going and a few people he’s dated.

Matt laughs. “Alright, but if we’re both single by then will you marry me?”

“Yes. I’ll marry you.”

“Good.”

He stretches his pinky out for you to hook yours around. “No ring?” You ask as you hook your pinky around his anyways.

“Not yet. Though I think there’s a ring pop somewhere around here.” Matt fumbles around while you laugh. Catching sight of the little bag you reach for it before handing it to him.

“Here. As a promise to maybe marry you.” He smiles and opens it, grabbing your hand to slide the ring on.

“As a promise to maybe marry you.” He echos. You lean over and kiss his cheek, just a little shy of the corner of his mouth. Nothing too unusual for the two of you, kissing each other on the cheek or forehead. Occasionally you’ll even kiss Foggy on the cheek.

Yet Matt stills for a second. Then he says, “I think you missed.”

You still for a second, your breath caught in your chest. “Okay.” You whisper before leaning over to kiss him square on the mouth this time. You haven’t really thought about what kissing Matt properly would be like. His lips are soft, warm. It’s sweet and you’re not sure if the warmth is from him or the alcohol. He grins against your lips.

You pull away from Matt after a moment, only to lean against his shoulder. “Do you think Foggy would have his family cater?”

Once more, Matt’s laughter floats through the room. “I think his mom would be upset if they didn’t.”

“Probably.”

You wake up far too early for your liking. Laying on top of Matt with a pounding headache, you groan causing Matt to do the same in response.

“Too loud.” He mumbles, his arms curled around you.

“Sorry.” You whisper as quietly as you could, snuggling back into his chest. Moving to get more comfortable you feel a slight pinch on your finger. The ring pop is still on your hand. You look at it, recalling that particular moment. “Did you really want to get married?”

A pause as Matt tries to find his words, sorting through his thoughts while fighting his hangover. “Did you?”

“Well, I did say yes when you gave me the ring.” There isn’t anything wrong with marrying your best friend. If you had Matt by your side always, you think that would be a wonderful life. Even if you don’t end up marrying him, you hope he is. You can’t imagine not being by his side. Matt is kind, funny, sweet, determined. He has a good heart and sharp mind. You like being around him, you love it. You love him.

“When we’re 30?”

You nod. “When we’re 30.” Gently he places a kiss on the top of your head. “I should probably take the ring off though. It is candy and I’ve probably already ruined your sheets. And your clothes.”

Matt’s low chuckle shakes both of you as you carefully remove the ring. “You’re still wearing it?”

“I don’t even remember falling asleep.” Still on top of Matt, you reach over to the bedside table to place the ring there making sure to put some distance between it and his glasses.

“I’ll get you one that’s not made out of candy.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” Once you settle back on to his chest, Matt’s arms tighten around you. Quietly, you add, “The ring pop’s red. With a yellow base.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Mm. Sleep now. Food later. Wedding even later.”

With an audible smile, Matt agrees.

None of the words on your screen are really making sense to you. You’ve read the same paragraph five times in three different ways trying to actually understand it. Maybe, it’s time for a break and judging by the look on Matt’s face he could use one too. Glancing at Foggy, it seems like he’s ahead of the two of you. His laptop is abandoned on his sheets as he has his phone in one hand, a drink in the other.

Turning back to Matt, you call out from your place on his bed. “Matt, my dear fiancé-”

You couldn’t get any further in your sentence as both his and your attention went to Foggy as he chokes on his drink.

“Foggy, you okay?” Matt’s pulling his earbud out, brows furrowed.

“Fiancé?”

“You are technically my fiancé, right?” You ask. If you are technically engaged that’s how it works. People who are engaged are fiancès. It just isn’t something you’ve talked about yet.

“I am technically your fiancé.” He confirms.

“And I’m yours.”

“Would someone like to fill me in?”

You properly close your laptop and put it away, glad to have a break as Matt turns around in his chair to somewhat properly face Foggy. “We’re getting married.” He says it so simply, as if he was telling Foggy the time, but he can’t hide the mischief in his smile. Any opportunity to tease Foggy is an opportunity Matt wouldn’t miss.

“Only if we’re both single by 30 though.” You add.

“And when was this?”

“This weekend. While you were away.” Though the end of that night is a little more spotty, you do remember most of it. Including a few details you had discussed. “Do you think your mom would want to cater?”

“You want my mom to cater?”

Matt is quick to correct him. “I think she wants to cater.”

“I think she’d be trying to help plan the whole damn thing if she found out!”

“If we’re planning anything it’s going to have to wait about 10 years. Though Matt still owes me a ring.” You did however, keep the yellow plastic from the ring pop he gave you that night. After washing it you put it in a drawer.

“Well, I need your ring size first.”

“I forgot about that part.” You give him both sizes for your left and right hand. “It’ll go on my right hand, but that doesn’t mean I won’t maybe marry you.”

“If you changed your mind that quickly I would be a little concerned.”

“I leave for one weekend and you two get drunk and decide to get engaged.”

“Don’t worry Foggy, you’ll definitely be invited to the wedding. Food break?”

Foggy sighs. “I’ll need it if we’re continuing this conversation.”

You and Matt have identical, bright smiles as Foggy gets up.

“I’m going to be your best man, right?” Foggy asks.

They’re standing in some store in a shopping area. You said the ring pop was red and yellow so Matt needs to get you a ring that’s exactly that. Not an actual proper ring. He couldn’t afford that and technically you are engaged, but you also aren’t. That is something you both understand. It’s part of the reason you specified you would wear the ring on your right hand. Matt’s not even sure if you’re actually expecting one. The point is that he promised you one, and you did — maybe jokingly — ask for one after you agreed to marry him.

“No,” Matt responds, feeling the rings through the plastic, looking for the rings Foggy specifically pointed out to him. “I’m going to ask one of your cousins to be my best man.” His fingers find the first ring in the set. The plastic’s getting in his way a little more than he likes. Unfortunately, he can’t take them out or press too hard, unless he wants to rip the plastic. But even through the plastic he can feel more gems than he’d like on it.

Foggy sighs and shakes his head. “You think you really know a guy after living with him for years. Then he goes and asks one of your cousins to be his best man after he didn’t tell you he was engaged.”

“You’ll still be invited as a groomsman.” The other ring Foggy pointed out feels too thin. Something he doesn’t feel good about either of you wearing. It doesn’t feel right. Even if it’s just something that doesn’t really matter all that much. Matt’s not half-assing it. The next ring in the set is the same. He hands the packet back to Foggy with a shake of his head. “No matter who I end up marrying, you'll probably still be my best man.” He says softly.

Foggy smiles and places a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Let’s get you a ring.”

After a handful of ring sets, wrapped in plastic and not, Matt finally finds something that might be good. Smooth metal with a gem that wasn’t too rough. The rings weren’t too clunky or thick nor too thin.

He sets it to the side as a potential buy.

Even after going through nearly all the other rings that fit the color scheme, none of them felt as good, as right, as that. There’s a small pile of ones that maybe could be good but he just can’t help but think about that first one.

He reaches to where he put it and picks it back up. “I think this is the one.”

Foggy claps his hands. “It might have taken you going through every gold ring with a red gem but we found you an engagement ring. Now, that clearance rack is calling my name.”

Matt grins, grabbing his cane as Foggy loops his arms in his.

The rug you’re currently sitting on is one of your favorite places. The three of you had dragged it into the dorms last semester. A place for all of you to sit together instead of sitting on one of the beds and a desk, or leaving you to lay on the floor by yourself.

To your amusement Matt’s absolutely confused at what Foggy is saying. “What?”

“I’m just saying-”

The melodic chime of your alarm interrupts Foggy. Quickly you silence it.

“I have to go get ready.”

“For what?” Matt asks.

“Movie night with some friends. I told you guys this.”

“You have other friends?” A faux wounded look on Foggy’s face as he tries to fight his smile.

“Yes. I have other friends.” You stand up, stretching.

“Matt, we’re being left behind.”

“Don’t worry, Matt.” You tap your ring. “You’re my only fiancé.” For good measure you lean over and kiss his forehead causing a smile to stretch across his face. “Foggy, you aren’t my fiancé, but do I love you.”

Foggy sighs. “Not enough apparently.”

You smile and roll your eyes, opening your arms for a hug. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late.”

“No promises.” Matt responds as Foggy accepts your hug.

“Love you too. Have fun.” He says before settling back down on the rug.

You wave, saying goodbye a final time and take your leave.

“I have a date.” You joyfully announce when you walk into Foggy and Matt’s room.

“Who’s the lucky person?” Foggy asks.

“A guy named Sean in one of my classes. He’s cute and he’s nice. We’ve been talking in class for a while and he asked me out.” You had far too much experience with a class where discussing with your classmates or doing in-class assignments was such a drag. Group projects are a whole other nightmare. But you like talking to Sean. He’s sweet, well-spoken, cute, and has some of the same interests and hobbies you did. Truth be told, you had been thinking about inviting him to one of your get-togethers with your other friends to test the waters a little. Him asking you on a date had been a pleasant surprise. “I’m not sure what we’re doing but he said to wear something I can move in.”

“And when is this date with Sean?”

“Next Friday.” You proudly grin. It had been a while since you’ve been on a date or even met someone you wanted to go on a date with.

“I hope you have fun.” Matt says, smiling.

You place your bag down before settling on his bed. “And what about you Mr. Casanova? There seems to be a lack of anyone on your arm lately. And I know it’s not because people aren’t interested in you.” Far too many people have approached Matt for that to be the case.

“They’re right. It’s been a while since you’ve left me all alone at a party or kicked me out of the dorm.” You are a little concerned. Usually Matt would at least be kissing someone new every other week while single. Mostly, you’re curious. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter too much. You just want to know why the change. You know Foggy has been wondering too if the fact he brought it up to you last week is anything to go by.

“I don’t always kick you out of the dorm.”

Foggy throws his hands up. “You know what I mean! So what’s going on, man?”

Matt chuckles. “Are we having an intervention because I’m not having sex?”

Your laughter comes out choked for a second before smoothing out. “I wouldn’t say that. Maybe more like nosey best friends who might also be a little concerned.”

Foggy points at you. “Yes! Exactly that.”

Matt lifts his hands, shrugging. “I guess, I’m just not interested right now. Maybe I can wingman for you instead?”

At that Foggy brightens. “That’s exactly what you need to be doing. If you’re not going to take any of those devastatingly beautiful people back or on a date, I would be more than happy to.”

“Alright.”

“And you.” Foggy throws an arm around your shoulder as he says your name. “Here’s to you and your date with Sean.”

“Here’s to you.” Matt echos.

You laugh. Everything is working out and you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else then where you are now.

[kitkatpadywaks]

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Key: 🔥Smut - 💢Angst - ❤️Fluff - 💀Dark Themes - 💕Slow Burn - ❤️‍🩹Hurt/Comfort - ✔️Complete(Series) - ❌Incomplete(Series)

Last Updated: 19th November 2024

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[sunflowersandsapphires]

Make a mess of me

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 9

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: SMUT. YES FULL P IN V SMUT. (don't get too excited y'all, the pining isn't over yet.) swearing, slight degradation, underage drinking

a/n: The biggest shout out to @gracethyomen for ghostwriting the sexy parts because my asexual ass had no idea what I was doing. This was the first time I ever attempted smut so I hope you all like it. As always, comments and reblogs help encourage me to write more!

w/c: 3.1k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT:

The floorboards beneath Matt’s feet trembled as the throbbing bass boomed throughout the bar. Around him, groups of students screamed along to the lyrics of the pop song blaring through the DJ's speakers. Gripping the neck of his lukewarm beer, he lifted the bottle to his mouth—met with more resistance than he was expecting when the ancient remnants of spilled drinks on the tabletop clung to the glass. He tried not to scrunch his nose as his finger drifted across a patch of an unidentified sticky substance on the surface in front of him.

Shoving thoughts of the unpleasant sensation aside, Matt chugged the rest of his bottle, relishing in the warm current rippling through his veins as his past few drinks finally started to take effect. Breathing deeply, his lips twitched up. Despite the stifling heat of bodies grinding against each other and the acrid smell of vomit coating the place, he felt wildly at ease. His senses were still overactive, but he could feel them dulling as his brain grew fuzzy. Face slackening as his cheeks turned rosy, his mouth broke into a full grin.

“Are you feelin' it, Murdock?” Foggy laughed, clapping him on the back clumsily. His roommate's breath, which reeked of bottom shelf vodka, clouded against Matt's cheek as he patted the other man's back.

Smiling dopily, Matt leaned into the arm Foggy had around him. “Not at all,” His sentence broke off into a laugh he didn't recognize. Had that come from him?

“Oh he's feelin' it.” Foggy cackled gleefully, tossing a proud look to the girl across the table from the two. “I told ya: the cheap stuff works faster.”

“I'll have to agree with you there, buddy.” Matt snorted, rolling his loosening shoulders.

“I'm still not convinced.” The girl giggled. Her dangling earrings clinked on their chains as she shook her head.Matt hid a knowing smile behind the lip of his now-empty bottle as he felt her and Foggy flush with warmth in tandem, their pulses sprinting like jackrabbits.

"Oh Foggy would know. It's not his first time here." Matt squeezed his friend’s knee, shoving it towards the girl in what he hoped was an obvious gesture. "Did he tell you how he met the bouncer?"

Puffing out his chest, Foggy beamed. Launching into a rather embellished story of how he'd met the senior by saving his younger sister from being mugged. Nothing had happened really, he'd yelled at the guy (who had promptly scurried off), but Matt kept his mouth shut. Who was he to deny Foggy a connection with this girl he was clearly into?

If only he could tell Foggy that she was equally into him, that he didn't need to try so hard. Keeping his senses a secret from his best friend was nearly impossible when alcohol lowered his guard.

His face must have fallen because Foggy scoffed at him. "What did I say, Murdock?"

"Nothing, I just realized it's my turn to buy a round." Matt gave an exaggerated grimace, his body flooding with relief when Foggy and his admirer laughed in response.

"Buy another three shots," Foggy requested, turning back to his admirer. "I'm not done trying to convince Miss Stahl here that she's going about this 'drinking' thing all wrong."

"Trying to get me drunk, Nelson?" The girl responded smugly, tilting her head at him.

"Hey, we'll see where the night takes us," Foggy stated emphatically, spreading his arms wide.

Matt smirked, shoving his chair away from the table and heading to the bar. Squeezing his way through the crowd of his inebriated classmates, he gripped the sticky bartop to cement his place in line. Hearing the bartender drift towards him, he threw up a hand and called out the request.

“Sure thing, man. It'll be a minute.” The bartender called back, busying himself with the plate of cocktails he seemed to be making for the gaggle of sorority girls off to Matt's left.

Matt nodded politely, leaning his weight against the sturdy wood planks of the bar. The air around him shifted as the scantily-clad girls split off towards an open table, one staying behind to bring the drinks. The hair on his neck prickled as her attention turned toward him. He couldn't help but smile as he felt her heart rate speed up, her limbs flooding with renewed warmth. Stepping closer to him cautiously, her hair rustled as she tucked it behind her ear.

“Matthew Murdock, right?” She asked, taking a seat on the stool next to Matt's hip.

“Who wants to know?” He asked with a cocky grin, tilting his head at her.

She giggled in response, her chin tipping towards her chest for a moment before she held out a clammy hand. “Shelby Norton. Um, I'm holding out my hand and I now realize you can't see that.”

With a soft laugh of his own, he held out his own hand. “I'm Matt. Nice to meet you, Shelby.” She clasped her small hand around his, shaking once before withdrawing her arm.

“Nice to meet you too. We had Torts together, last semester, I think.”

“Did we? I'm sorry, I'm not great with faces.” He joked, taking a step closer to her when she laughed.

“That's alright. I was always too shy to speak up, but I loved your comments on the cases we read. Especially when we discussed MacPherson.”

Matt felt his ego glow with pride. She'd clearly had her eyes on him for some time then. A slight blush crept up his neck and across his cheeks. “You're too sweet, thank you. Did your friends also force you to buy them a round?"

"Uh sort of," She snorted, twisting her hands around each other. "I'm trying to rush a sorority next month so a friend of mine invited me out to 'get to know' some of the girls. They told me freshmen had to pay."

"Mmm that's a shit deal." Matt sympathized, pouting a bit to express his distaste of the hazing. "I could split the cost with you, if it would help."

"Oh you don't have to do that!" Shelby protested, but Matt held up a hand and plastered on his most convincing smile.

"Well, how else would I be able to buy you a drink?" He slid the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip as she giggled in response. His heart was strumming in tandem with hers, arousal growing as he picked up the scent of hers being carried on the stale bar air. Slipping a bill from the stack on his pocket, he pressed them into her palm.

“That's really sweet of you, Matt. How can I repay you?" Shelby chuckled sweetly, perching on the edge of her seat as she traced his forearm with a single finger. As she drew a line over his skin, goosebumps rose in the wake of her touch. She didn’t have long nails, he realized when he could feel the warmth from the pad of her finger when she touched him. He could hear her heart beating just a tiny bit faster at the contact, making him smile minutely. Eager. He didn’t mind it.

“Do you always proposition people when they offer you drinks?” He teased, “If so, what would a beer get me?”

He heard the soft sound of her lips separating as she smiled at his joke, leaning in to brush her lips across the shell of his ear before she whispered breathily. “Forget the beer.” With that same finger that had run the length of his lower arm she turned his chin just a bit to better align their mouths, pecking him gently on the lips to test the waters.

He took the bait, molding his mouth to hers with a soft sigh, near-empty beer bottle forgotten- somewhere? He didn’t care enough to worry where he’d left it, prepared to lose himself in the warm body currently wrapping a toned leg around his calf.

“Is your roommate here with you?” Shelby murmured against his mouth, stroking her other hand down the front of his threadbare shirt to the button on his worn-out jeans.

“He’s not coming back later.” He reassured her, winding fingers through her hair to the back of her neck. “Something tells me he got lucky.”

“Not as lucky as you’re about to be.” She cooed, nipping lightly at his jawline.

“What about the group you came with? Won’t they miss you?” Matt asked, a bit breathlessly.

“Let them.” Shelby answered, tangling her fingers with his and tugging him towards the open door at the back of the bar.

"That was so good babe," Everett groaned, setting his fork down with a clink.

“It's boxed macaroni, don’t get too ahead of yourself.” You chided, laughing lightly as you plopped the cardboard container on top of the teetering stack of empty beer cans in the recycling bin. “Okay what are we watching?”

“I’m still kinda hungry.” Everett confessed with a knowing smirk, leaning towards you across the small couch as you took your seat.

“You want me to put another pot on?” You asked, moving to stand again to make more macaroni.

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” He growled, tugging you into his lap with one quick movement. Yelping in surprise, the sound quickly morphed into a pleased hum as his lips landed on yours.

“Ah, I see. This was your plan all along.” You murmured between heated pecks. “Praise my work in the kitchen so I'd take you to the bedroom.”

“This is a studio apartment, babe. This is the bedroom.” Everett noted, jerking his head towards the full bed in the other corner of the room. Sliding a large palm between your shoulder blades, he held you steady as you arched into his touch, smashing your lips to his again. His free hand roamed over your body, sliding over your thigh before gripping it gently. As his thumb continued to swipe from side to side, you sighed appreciatively, rocking your hips into his in response.

“So worked up already?” He laughed, bringing his mouth to your jawline and pressing a line of open-mouthed kisses towards your pulse point. “Slow down, babe. We've got all the time in the world.”

Anticipation fading slightly, you nodded, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Sorry.” You tried to push away the feeling of being scolded, especially with Ev’s hands being where they were. You wanted to enjoy this as much as he always seemed to.

Smiling with a small chuckle, Everett didn't answer, simply locking his lips with yours again.

Cupping her neck gently, Matt rested his forehead against hers—breaking their lips to allow her to come up for air.

“You doin' ok?” He panted, heat flaring in his gut as her soft hands continued to draw patterns over the skin of his waist despite his interruption.

Nodding against him, she gulped in a breath. “Oh yah.”

Smiling hungrily, Matt pulled her back to him once more. “Glad to hear it, beautiful.”

Touching his lips to hers once again, Matt relished in the feeling of her body responding to his; a simple kiss throwing her off balance enough that he was practically keeping her upright. Swiping his tongue over her bottom lip, he grinned into the kiss when she moaned in response.

Stumbling backwards until his calves touched his mattress, he planted himself on it, lifting her onto his lap without breaking the kiss. Her arms released his hips, flattening on the bed as she pressed her chest into his. Following her lead, Matt collapsed against the stack of pillows, threading his hand into her soft hair.

Unlatching her mouth from his, she grinned against his lips, taking a moment to catch her breath. “Sorry, I got winded.”

Chuckling, Matt rubbed his thumb over her scalp comfortingly. “That's alright. Take your time, sweetheart.”

Her rounded nails dragged down his chest as she admired him for a moment. “Wanna take this off?”

“Happy to.” Matt pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor as she did the same with hers.

Straightening his posture as the brisk air pummeled his exposed chest, Matt felt a smug grin creep onto his face as her heart rate spiked, her eyes trailing down toward the button of his jeans. “Like what you see?” He teased, trailing a finger over her arm and towards her jawline.

“Mmhmm.” She nearly whimpered, digging her fingers into his biceps as she dove into him for another heated kiss. “You're gorgeous, Matt.”

He chuckled into her mouth, tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth as he cupped one of her covered breasts. “Can I take this off?”

“Please.” She whined, fumbling with the button of his pants.

Tightening one fist around the bottom of the headboard, you rutted your hips further onto the head of Ev’s cock, hissing with pleasure as it stretched your cunt. He continued to slam his dick into you, the slow, delicate rhythm quickly boring your libido. The orgasm you craved began floating further and further from your desperate reach.

Moaning his name, you cupped his ass with your free hand, shoving his hips closer to your own. The twinge of wonderful pain made your vision flicker, and your optimism returned--only to be quickly snuffed out when the building hazy sensation receded once again.

“Fuck!” You cried out, gritting your teeth in frustration as the shaft of your boyfriend's cock pumped in and out of you. Digging your nails into his flesh, you dropped your hand from the headboard, trailing it over your stomach before running a finger over your own clit.

Your hips bucked with pleasure, a moan slipping through your parted lips.

“You close, sweetie?” Everett asked, between pants.

“Yah,” You nodded, drawing circles over your sensitive bud and grinning as orgasm once again descended upon you. Your pulse jumped, blood rushing from your heart towards your slick thighs. Pleasure began to crest over you, it's fantastic cloud slowly wafting up and—

With a ferocious movement, Everett slammed his cock into you, knocking your head into the bed frame with the force. Great. Bubble popped, you traced circles over your clit with renewed urgency as Everett began to moan.

Sliding his tongue back into her, Matt smiled against her entrance as Shelby arched her spine with a moan. Gripping her shuddering thighs with vigor, he pulled back, perching over her with a smirk. Her arousal clung to his nose and stubbled chin. Letting his hand drift back down to her thighs, he traced delicate swirls up and down them as she caught her breath.

“Fuck, Matt. That was—”

“Good?” He asked loftily, as if he couldn't read her body like a braille essay.

She chuckled, grabbing his neck and yanking him down for a kiss. Her tongue slid into his mouth readily, mixing the taste of stale alcohol with the arousal coating his tongue. Shifting one knee in between her legs, he hummed happily as she began grinding her hips over his leg.

Nudging her face with his own, he licked a stripe over her neck, kissing the tender skin there before sinking his teeth in carefully.

“Matt!” Shelby cried, hands grappling for his waist as he continued to bruise her neck.

Cupping one of her breasts in his hand, he circled her nipple with his thumb before dragging his fingertip over the stiff bud as she bucked her hips with a whimper. His stiff cock stretched the fabric of his boxers as the noises continued to fall from her lips without pause. Ridding himself of his final piece of clothing, he traced a finger through her dripping folds.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Matt, please!” She begged, heart pounding in her chest as she chased another orgasm. 

Readying his cock in front of her entrance, he slowly lowered his hips until the head was inside of her, giving her a moment to adjust to the stretch. Gasping in a breath, her hands—still grasping his waist—contracted, hauling him closer to her.

Smiling wildly, Matt rutted forward, groaning in pleasure as her walls squeezed his dick. She was quivering beneath him, whining his name as climax rapidly approached.  

“Oh fuck, yes. Yes!” Everett growled. 

He was close. And if you were planning on not faking your own climax, you needed to speed this process up.

Wetting your lips, you let your mind flood with images of Everett kissing you, marking your neck with his perfect teeth, tugging your hair—things he hadn't done since the first month or so of your relationship. The way droplets of sweat would creep down his torso after he worked out. The way he kissed you after you got an answer right in a tutoring session. Clasping your neck in his large palm as if you were the most precious thing in the world. Because you were. You were his girl.

Whimpering as your body leaned into the growing thrill, you bit your lip to keep from screaming as a voice echoed in your mind.

“That's it sweetheart, just like that. So good for me.” The familiar rumble was delectable, drawing you in like a moth to the flame. You moaned softly, keening upwards with desire. The voice hanging over you chuckled smugly. “You like when I praise you, hm?”

“Yes,” You responded, letting your eyes fly open as orgasm finally reached you. Hovering above you, was the source of the voice. Blank hazel eyes, customary devilish smirk, gorgeous dark hair—all staring back at you as you shook with orgasm.

Not Everett. 

Matt.

His low voice looped in your ears as you rode out your high. “So good for me, sweetheart. So good.” 

Letting your eyes flutter shut with a massive exhale, you sagged against the mattress as the muscular body on top of you went rigid. A different voice—Everett's voice—groaning with delight as he came. “Fuck, that's it! Yes, yes, yes!”

Opening your eyes again, your brain went blank. All you could do was lay there and heave in breaths, your body still sparking with the remnants of an electric climax. Everett planted a sloppy kiss on your mouth, collapsing against the mattress beside you.

“Damn, babe. Talk about an ego boost. I don't think I've ever heard you make sounds like that.”

Chuckling nervously, you tipped your head to grant him access as he pressed his rough lips against your pulse point. “Yah, yah it was good.”

Snorting, Everett tucked you against his side, your sweaty skin pulling slightly as it dragged against his. “That might've been the best I've ever had, seriously.”

“Yah, me too.” You murmured, reality and dread settling in your chest like dead weight.

Taglist: @eugene-emt-roe @abbyhaslongshorts @mrs-bellingham @abucketofweird @yeonalie @jadeunstablexx @spider-murdock @0ctober-writes @danzer8705 @mattmurdockstateofmind @supervoldejaygent @dorothleah @zomtart @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @rev-glut @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @msjb2002 @blue-devil-of-the-lord @pigeonmama @daisy-arien0 @yarrystyleeza

[devils-dares]

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!

-----

“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.”

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 7]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

When you escaped your parents’ house and moved into the city for college, you already knew the basics of cooking. Since you had turned fourteen, it had been your responsibility to feed yourself. 'You are old enough to figure it out' was what your parents had told you. Living in the dorms didn't give you much opportunity to cook and when you finally had your own kitchen to really play around in, you didn't have the money to afford a full pantry. It was hard, but it never deterred you and you learned a couple of good recipes.

When Minnie came along and you were able to figure out her likes and dislikes, you made a few changes - you could finally afford to get all organic produce and bread not made from ninety percent sawdust and you started cooking even more because your little one didn't like things from a can. 

And despite what the experts and people online say, you give in to every one of Minnie's food whims. You don't want to force her to eat things she doesn't like. Your parents never listened to you, even if the food made you sick - you ate what was given to you or not at all. You are not going to do that to her and the rules you have come up with are she at least has to try something. If she doesn't like it, she doesn't need to eat it, and the past few months she's been pretty good at telling you why she doesn't like something. You don't always understand her reasoning, but you accept and tell her that she can try it again when she's bigger. 

Her favorite thing that you make is lasagna. You make it from scratch and she usually loves to help you and will spend all day excited for ooey-gooey cheese.

Usually.  

Today is not a usual day. Today your daughter is an upset little banshee. As soon as she woke up, she was in a bad mood. She didn't want to be touched at all and getting her dressed was a nightmare. Lots of 'no's and crying about how all her clothes were itchy until you finally allowed her to just wear her swimsuit. It was the only thing you could get her to stay in. You didn't even try with her hair, running your fingers through it to get out some knots, but that only lasted a full five seconds before she was running away from you.

You are trying to be patient with her - you know that something must be upsetting her, whether it be waking up on the wrong side of the bed or she's starting to get a cold and not feeling well. She doesn't know how to express herself beyond crying and you don't blame her. You want to cry when you don't feel well. 

That doesn't mean it isn't stressful for you. The back of your skull is throbbing from her screams and your own mood is sour because you don't know how to help. Hearing her so upset breaks your heart. 

Matt is supposed to come by, thus the homemade dinner, but part of you wonders if you should cancel. Minnie isn't going to calm down anytime soon and you would feel bad having him come over just to witness a tantrum. On the other hand, tantrums are a part of having a child. 

You decide to leave it up to him and send him a text letting him know Minnie is having a bad day. He quickly responds he still wants to come, so you return to working on your tomato sauce as quietly as you can.

Mouse has hidden herself under a throw blanket with her tablet and her plushies on the couch. You don't worry about her doing anything she shouldn't be - the tablet is child locked to hell and back - but it is a little hard to tell what she is doing since she's muted the tablet. There is an eerie purple glow coming from under the blanket, so you can guess she's playing one of her games. You've found a few that don't require sound that she enjoys - a few dress up games and matching things. 

Occasionally you hear her sniffle or mumble but she doesn't call for you, so you let her be. She didn't really nap today, so you're trying to avoid another meltdown. You are hoping when you remind her Matt is coming, it will help her mood. You're a little jealous he is obviously her new favorite person, but also you are so happy for it. 

Your original idea of taking things slow has been adjusted based on her reaction. You wanted to start talking to her about family today and build her up to the idea of having a dad, then have Matt over so she starts that association. That obviously is not going to happen. 

You finish up your prep and start to assemble the lasagna, laying sheets of pasta down before adding sauce and cheese then repeating the process until the pan is full. You made a little extra, with the intention of sending Matt home with leftovers. He had mentioned in passing that he doesn't get to cook much and living off take out is not ideal. 

The baking pan gets put into the oven and the timer is set, then you aren't sure what to do with yourself. It will take about an hour and Matt is scheduled to arrive then. 

You could do some cleaning, but with how Minnie is, you don't want to set her off. You know when she gets like this, any little thing can trigger her, so the best you can come up with is scrolling your phone. 

Still, you want to be with your baby, so you make your way to the couch. You keep your voice just above a whisper, knowing she's been itching at her ears all day, "Mouse, can I sit with you on the couch?"

You know she heard you based on the way the blanket moves. It takes a moment before you hear a tiny 'okay'.

You tuck yourself into the opposite corner and take out your phone to bring up something to look at. As soon as you start scrolling your feed, the glowing blanket mound starts moving towards you and you are easily overtaken by it. Minnie gets herself into your lap, still hidden away, then flops against your chest. You can feel her tablet against your thigh and you're pretty sure Scooby is jammed into your stomach, but as long as she's good, you're good. 

You keep an eye on the time as you flick through your phone. A majority of the news sites you follow are filling your feed with stories about the explosion in Connecticut. An uneasiness fills your stomach when you see the word 'attack' being thrown around. The headlines say they have determined the destruction was intentional and not an accident, though no one has claimed responsibility. Tony Stark gave some sort of press conference, so his face is all over your phone. 

You don't need this today, so you switch over to browsing some online shops. Minnie is getting too big for her winter coat, so you definitely need to get her one before the weather changes and prices go up. You'll have to get her approval before you make a final purchase, but it's good to check what is in the market. 

About twenty minutes before you are due to take the lasagna out of the oven, Matt texts you to let you know he is on his way. You confirm that you got his message, then gently run a hand over the mound in your lap, "Hey, sweetie. Dinner is almost ready. Do you remember what I said about dinner tonight?"

The blanket gets tugged and moved until Minnie can poke just the top of her head out. She squints at you, like she is judging you, before mumbling out, "Mister Matt is coming?"

You give her a soft smile, trying to comfort her in any way you can, "That's right, baby, Mister Matt is going to come over and have dinner with us."

She squirms in your lap, before flopping herself forward again and declaring, "I want juice."

"Okay, sweetie." 

You manage to gather her, her blanket, her tablet, and some plushies into your arms and get Minnie on your hip to carry her to the kitchen. You're an expert at doing things one handed and it only takes you a minute to make up a sippy cup. Once that is in her little hands, you deposit her into her seat at the dining table. You let her keep her blanket and toys, setting up Scooby and Pig so they are in the seat next to her and her tablet is on the table in front of her. 

She is indeed playing a dress up game and as she nurses her juice, she looks at each dress option for the character she's dressing. As she does that, you start to set the table around her. You can tell that despite the cuddles and quiet, your Mouse is still in a grumpy mood. You really, really hope that Matt will help her smile a little. 

Once everything is set, you check on the lasagna. It smells and looks delicious to you, and you take the sheet tray out a little early so it can start to cool. That gets Minnie's attention, and you can see her watching you out of the corner of your eye. She's stuck her fingers in her mouth, sucking on them as her eyes follow you around the kitchen.

You are so busy watching Mouse watch you, you don't keep track of the time and when there is a soft knock at the front door, you jump. 

You scurry to answer, putting your hand over your heart and telling yourself to chill out. You know who it is and why they are here, and you don't need to panic over it. It's just Matt, you tell yourself.

It's just Matt. 

You open the door and your breath catches. 

It is just Matt, but Matt is Matt, and he makes your heart pound in a different way. 

He's come right from work, so he's in one of his crisp, fitted suits. His hair is fluffed up, like he's run his fingers through it too many times, and he's got that permanent five o'clock shadow. He looks like some GQ model, standing in your doorway. 

Embarrassment runs through you. You're not nearly as dressed up as he is. Even on his casual days, he looks so fashionable and cool, and you are wearing biker shorts and a black T-shirt. You look by no means raggedy, but maybe you should have changed. Just because Matt can't see what you are wearing doesn't mean you can be a slob. 

"Hi," you eventually choke out and Matt's face lights up. 

"Hey there," he says back, then he's holding up a bottle of wine and smiling so sweetly, "I thought I'd try contributing this time and I figured you might need a glass." 

You can't help but flush. Today has been rather long and a glass of wine sounds amazing. You don't drink often, but he is right and a glass to unwind sounds perfect. 

"You're a saint," you praise, and step aside so he can come in. "How was your day? Oh, you can put your jacket and bag to your left. There's hooks about chest level." 

Matt thanks you, then reaches out to feel the wall. He finds the hooks quickly, then hangs his saddle bag before starting to remove his coat, "it was good. We were able to wrap up a few smaller cases - sometimes it just takes someone getting a lawyer for others to cave and do the right thing. Cheaper to just do the right thing than get sued and having to do it anyways, plus all the pay outs and fees."

"That is good," you hum, very much meaning it. You're glad those people got the help they needed. "You mentioned having a handful of cases, so that frees up your plate a little bit, right?"

Matt laughs a little, smile still wide, "A little bit. It's a nice change of things - we aren't hurting for paying clients, so we are going to try to take on a few more pro-bono things. We're getting into a nice groove - or so Foggy claims. He's leading that charge - making sure we aren't over working ourselves."

"I'll have to send him a thank you card," you tease, surprising yourself with it. 

"He'd like that, he'd get to lord it over me," he replies. Then he turns to you and steps forward, reaching out and finding your arm. He ghosts his fingers up until he oh-so-gently wraps them around your bicep and steps forward until you're a breath away from each other and you have to look down at his chest, so you are not staring at your own reflection in his glasses. His voice drops to something quiet and intimate, and you can barely hear him through the pounding of your heart in your ears.

"I told them. About you. About Minnie."

You find yourself smiling at the news. That makes it more real, doesn't it? It isn't just the courts acknowledging Matt is Minnie's father - it's the real world. It's Matt wanting her - wanting to show the world he wants his daughter. 

That's all you want. 

You step just a fraction closer, and to keep your balance and let Matt know how close you are, you place your hand in Matt's chest. Almost instantly, his free hand goes to your waist, and you feel steady. 

You bite your bottom lip, then ask, your curiosity so much bigger than your ability to keep your mouth shut, "What did they say?"

He huffs and lightly shakes his head, "After yelling at me for keeping it a secret? They want to meet you, properly. If that is okay. I told them I'd ask you before confirming anything." He hums, then drops his voice even more, "Karen got me magnets so I could hang all the work I got up on my fridge at home." 

"You're going to need a lot of them," you whisper back to him. "I ordered popsicle sticks and puff balls so she can make 3D things." 

"I can't wait. Karen got me a bulk pack of magnets."

You giggle at that, but before you can reply, a needy little voice calls out from the dining table, "Mommy!"

You pull away from Matt, his fingers tracing down from your bicep to your wrist before he drops his hand, and turn to walk towards your daughter, "Yes, Mouse?"

"I'm hungry!" 

She's poked her head out from under the blanket and is now wearing it like a cape and her chubby little cheeks are pulled down into an upset frown. You have a feeling a tantrum may be close - there's nothing worse than a hangry toddler. 

You take a breath, then smile at your daughter, "Okay. Mister Matt is here so we can have dinner now. Do you want to tell him what we are having?"

Matt taps his way into the main living space, and you know you should give him a quick tour, but you think if you delay dinner at all, Minnie is going to start crying, so you tell him instead where the table is. 

Minnie doesn't seem to want to engage, stuffing her fingers back into her mouth. Luckily, Matt isn't dissuaded by that. He sets the wine bottle down before taking the seat across from Minnie. 

"It smells like we're going to have lasagna for dinner. Is that what we are having?" he asks, voice soft and gentle. 

Your little one rocks side to side, keeping her fingers in her mouth before nodding. Normally, you would remind her to use her words, but you don't want to push, so you relay her message to Matt, "She nodded."

Matt hums softly in response. He tilts his head slightly, brows knitting together, before leaning forward just a fraction, "Do you want us to leave you alone until you eat?"

You are surprised by the question then even more surprised when he gets the tiniest, 'yes' in reply. Matt's face softens at that, and he nods to Minnie.

"Okay. Can I still talk to your Mommy, or do you want us to be quiet, too?"

You stand, dish towel in your hands, ready to bring the lasagna to the table, watching your daughter interact with her father. He's being so gentle and understanding with her and you can tell he's being genuine. You can hear the care in his words, how he's giving her choice and not pushing her to talk to him. 

You'll gladly eat dinner in silence if Minnie doesn't want either of you to talk. You don't know how it will work, but you'll try. 

Your little one doesn't answer the question right away. She looks between you and Matt, before pulling her fingers out of her mouth to speak, "You can talk to Mommy."

"Thank you, sweetheart. We'll be quiet, okay?" Matt promises. 

You quickly parrot him, giving your own soft smile, "Thank you, baby. We'll keep it down." 

Minnie snuggles herself tighter into her blanket and you take that as a sign to get yourself into gear. You carefully pick up the lasagna pan and bring it over to the table, setting it as far as possible away from your little one. 

Matt tilts his head towards you, and the food, "That smells delicious. Did you make it yourself?"

You go back to the kitchen to get your serving utensils and answer in the softest voice you can muster that isn't whispering, "Thank you, I did. I found an all organic, from scratch recipe online and have been using it ever since. It's even fancy, way too expensive, cheese. I, uh, made extra. For you to take home, if you want."

Matt licks his lips, and you can tell he's trying to hold back a big smile. It makes your insides turn in a funny way - his kindness and appreciation. You are, as sad as it is, not used to such treatment and for whatever reason that, combined with Minnie's attitude, and Matt being in your apartment for the first time kick starts your anxiety. You are definitely very aware of your heartbeat, and it feels like someone dipped your heart into ice water before it disappears into a hollowness. 

This feeling isn't new to you, so you try to push past it, not let your sudden panic ruin things, because despite your little one's sourness, things are okay. You tell yourself things are okay. 

Your tiny bout of distress goes unnoticed, as it lasts the blink of an eye. Matt leans back in his chair, letting his smile start to crack through, "You didn't have to do that, but I will definitely take you up on it. I can't turn away a home cooked meal."

You force yourself to smile and cut out a slice of lasagna for Matt, before leaning over to place it on his plate, "Guests first."

"Thank you," Matt practically cooes, "I don't think I've been this excited for a dinner in a long time."

The praise does all sorts of things to you, so instead you focus on cutting out a little slice for Minnie and serving it to her. As soon as the food is in front of her, she stabs her fork into it and shovels a piece into her pouty mouth. You don't blame her at all.

"Would you like a glass of wine…?" You ask Matt. Minnie has her sippy juice, but you haven't set out any other drinks. 

He gives you a soft, "Yes, please," and you go to get the two wine glasses you have and a cork screw. You bring them back to the table and set down the glasses before going to open the wine. You haven't done it in such a long time it takes you a minute of struggling to pop it.  Matt turns his head towards you, a little grin on his face until you start pouring. 

You give Matt his drink, then finally make your own plate before sitting beside Matt. Minnie is still angrily stabbing at her dinner and you feel so bad for her. Even with her favorite dinner and good company, she's not having it. You expect when you put her down, either she'll try to fight you or be asleep the moment she touches the covers. You very much hope for the latter. 

Matt, on the other hand, looks completely enthralled with his plate. You can tell his eyes are closed and he's clearly enjoying what he's eating. 

You don't press for conversation - instead reaching for your wine. It's a deep red and delicious on your tongue and you can't remember the last time you've had a good wine. You can feel your shoulders starting to loosen. 

Which of course means, everything needs to come crashing down. 

One moment everything is okay, then the next, Minnie is absolutely screeching. Her face is screwed up in pain and you scramble to get out of your chair to get to her.

"Minnie! What's wrong?!" You try to ask her over her wailing. 

Instead of any sort of answer, she grabs for her fork, which is stabbed into her food, and throws it as hard as she can. You watch in horror as the fork and a large chunk of lasagna still attached to it flies over the table and smacks right into Matt's chest. Panic surges through you as he also bends forward and covers his ears with a distressed face, ignoring the food staining his shirt.

You try to grab Minnie from her booster, but she does not want it and instantly starts to try and fight you, flinging her arms and legs everywhere. 

"Minnie, please," you beg as she kicks you in the hip, "What's wrong, baby?!"

The only reply you get is upset screaming. 

"Cover her ears!" 

Matt is very suddenly beside you and clapping his hands over your baby's ears. She fights it, squirming to get away and smacking at his arms with all her might, but he doesn't budge. You stare, not understanding what is going on, what set her off, and you don't know how to help. 

You don't know how to help and that sinking feeling in your chest is returning and you're scared. 

Matt says your name again, then almost barks at you, "Her headphones! Get her headphones, the strongest ones!" 

You don't understand why but it's something you can help with, something you can do, and you rush to the bedroom and grab her sleeping headband. Minnie has always told you this one works the best, despite the reviews of the others. You run back to the dining area and nearly stumble upon what you see.

Matt has somehow gotten Minnie out of her booster seat and into his arms, and she is octopus clinging to him. Her face is pressed into his neck, one ear on his shoulder, while he keeps his hand clamped over the other. He's lightly bouncing her in his arm as she cries against him and part of you becomes extremely distressed at seeing someone else comfort your child. 

You push that away quickly to hurry forward and hold up the headband, "I've got it." 

Matt nods, then turns his focus back to Minnie. He noses her hair, and you can just barely hear him over her, "It's okay, baby, Mommy has your headband. We're gonna make it quiet. I know it hurts, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry."

You hesitate before stepping towards them. Minnie doesn't flail or pull away as you maneuver the headband and get it over both her ears. It feels so awkward to do as she cries and once it is on her head and over her ears, she reaches up and yanks on it until it is in place. Then she flops back down into the crook of Matt's neck, still crying but somehow not as urgently. 

You are unsure of what to do, but everything in you screams to touch your child, so you shuffle close to Matt until you can put a comforting hand on her back. 

"I'm right here, baby, it's okay," you whisper, gently rubbing a small circle along her spine. 

Matt shifts slightly, and the hand that was covering Minnie's ear drops and he instead wraps it around your waist and pulls you closer, so you are flush against him, with Minnie between the two of you. 

That seems to help with whatever has upset Minnie so much. She stays clinging to Matt while he oh so gently sways you back and forth. Her screeching dies down to tired-upset crying and you know she's going to keep going until she passes out. 

To your absolute amazement, Matt doesn't seem deterred at all. He keeps his nose buried into his daughter's hair, talking quietly to her as she sobs, "It's okay. Shhhh, shhh. Feel my heartbeat, sweetie. Focus on that. The bad noise will stop soon, I promise. Just listen to your Mommy and I." 

You have no idea what he is talking about - what the bad noise is - but it's calming Minnie down, so you let him keep going. You keep your hand on her back, gently doing your own 'shhh'ing, trying to encourage her to calm even more. 

"That's my good girl," Matt hums, before giving her the briefest kiss against her temple. "Do you want to go to Mommy now?" 

You don't hear Minnie respond, but she must in some way because soon enough she is being transferred into your arms. She clings to you loosely and you can feel her little body starting to droop. She must be close to wearing herself out.

She makes a little upset whine between her huffing and puffing, and you instantly take up gently bouncing her like Matt has been doing. Matt stays wrapped around both of you, taking over your role of rubbing Minnie's back. 

You don't know how long you stay there, curled together and soothing Minnie, both of you whispering little words of love and comfort to your daughter. 

You think you are past the worst of it, but of course that isn't the case.

Minnie starts squirming and fussing, reaching up and pressing at her ears over her headband. You look up to Matt, to see his reaction and your heart runs cold and fear spikes in you.

He looks absolutely murderous.

He's lifted his head and it is turned towards your living room, his brows scrunched and a scowl on his lips. You instinctively hug Minnie tight to you, but you quickly realize you have nothing to fear.

He stalks across your living room to your open window and yanks it shut. Right away, Minnie loops her arms back around your neck and settles with a sleepy sniffle. You press your face into her, rocking her a little more.

"I've got you, Mouse. It's okay. Mommy's right here."

You don't jump when Matt's hand brushes along your back and he once again wraps you in his arms. You allow yourself to turn ever so slightly and tuck yourself closer, lowering your head so it leans just barely against his shoulder, with Minnie hidden between your bodies.

You feel safe in that moment. You're confused why Minnie got so upset so suddenly and you're confused at how Matt knew how to handle it, but you feel safe, and even more so when Matt's arms tighten around you. 

"I've got you both," he practically breathes against you. "I won't let anything get you. I'm here now. I've got you." 

You close your eyes as the panic and adrenaline washes away from you and the exhaustion of your day starts to catch up to you. You very much understand how rubbing Minnie's back helps her sleep - Matt's started to drag his fingers up and down your spine and you know it could lull you into Dreamland.

Minnie's cries turn into sniffles and then quickly turn into quiet snores as the minutes pass.

You stay still until you are one hundred percent sure she's gone to the world before pulling back just slightly, and whisper, "I should go lay her down." 

Your face is so close to Matt's you can practically taste his breath and your heart starts to pound at the realization of it. 

You don't know if it is on account of your words or if he was also aware how tangled up the two of you were, but Matt drops his arms and steps away from you, nodding, "Yeah, she sounds pretty sleep now."

You chew your lip, not liking how your arms are suddenly chilly, but don't acknowledge it, "I'll be right back." 

You turn and grab Scooby and Pig, knowing another tantrum will happen if your daughter wakes up alone, and head towards the bedroom. It is surprisingly easy to get her to let go of you and you deposit Minnie into her bed. You place her toys beside her and tuck her in, careful to not jostle her. You dare to kiss her forehead before pulling away. 

As you turn to leave your bedroom, your window catches your eye. It is closed, but in front of it is a little table. 

Just like in your living room. There is a table under the window, with more than a few knick knacks on it. 

Your brow furrows and you return to the main living area. Matt has found his way back to the table and is drinking his glass of wine. 

"Is she good?" He asks, setting down his glass and turning to face you. 

"She didn't wake up at all, I think she's down for the count," you say, glancing towards where your window is before looking back to Matt. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," is his instant reply. You take a moment to look him over, from his fluffy hair, to the tomato sauce now on his shirt, to his fancy loafers, before returning to his handsome face.

"Matt…how did you know where the window is?"

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