#so i guess like college matt murdock

[sancticide]

god the men you created to be hunter gatherers are listening to tv girl, crying, and writing slam poetry as they try and fail to keep the single good relationship in their life alive

[chaithetics]

Hello!!! Hope ur doing well <3

I looooved the way u wrote Matt n I wanted to ask if u could do a nsfw alphabet about him? But I also noticed on ur masterlist u havent written one yet and if u dont want to thats fine :>

Matt Murdock NSFW Alphabet

Hello lovely Nonnie! Thank you for sending this through, this was a nice, quick and fun piece to do so thanks for sending it through. Happy to do nsfw nbcs, I just never have had a request for one before. It's obviously my first time, so I hope you enjoy! Do let me know what you think! :)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!, smutty smut smut I guess? Not proof or beta read!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This man lives for aftercare. Matt Murdock is without a doubt, absolutely obsessed with physical touch and indulging in it after the act as a form of aftercare, no matter the type of sex you just had, oral or penetrative. He’s obsessed with your body and how your skin feels against his and how your skin feels when he runs his fingertips over goosebumps, scars, moles, stretch marks, all of your curves and muscles. He likes to be clean but even if he’s sweaty he still likes to cuddle you, he needs to feel your skin against his, to press his head into your neck to tickle your sensitive skin and to deeply inhale your scent. He’s attentive to any needs you have, he smiles as he listens to your heart steadily beating and relaxing from that high, and he’s extremely affectionate. If you have hair he’ll be playing with it however he knows that you like and if not, he’ll be caressing your face gently as well while you cuddle. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favourite body part of a partner’s is their mouth/lips. He loves the way that his partner’s mouth feels against his, how soft it is to kiss, the shape of your lips and tracing them with his fingertips, how he can feel your lips move and it affects the rest of your face when you smile and laugh, how your mouth is where your gorgeous laugh comes from, your voice, and also the moans he loves to hear from you. 

His favourite body part of his, is his hands. He loves physical touch and his hands allow him to indulge in that sense by being affectionate and being able to touch your body all over. He can caress you with his hands, feel the goosebumps along your bare skin when you strip down, he can feel how you clench around his digits when he’s inside of you. His hands are the perfect way for him to indulge in you. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s a Catholic… He’d use the preferred protection methods of his partners but he has no issue with cum. I don’t know if this is a controversial take, but Matt Murdock is certainly into cumplay… 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to explore his submissive side more, he likes the slight feeling of dominance with a partner who bites him, he likes his neck being bitten. He either hasn’t tried pegging but really wants to be pegged, or he’s been pegged and really loves it but it takes him a little while to work up to feeling comfortable communicating that. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

To absolutely nobody’s surprise, Matt is extremely experienced. He has a playful charm that makes everyone in a five-block radius swoon. As Foggy has pointed out over and over again, he’s an absolute magnet for beautiful people of all shapes, sizes, and colours, and people absolutely fall for his handsome, tortured soul energy that he brings to everything. He certainly didn’t shy away from the attention in college he got for his looks and charm, one of the only ‘sins’ he didn’t feel the need to repent for in his college years. Foggy’s jokes have been longstanding in Matt’s life. He’s an experienced icon, he knows what he likes now and he knows how to please. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Matt’s favourite position is positions of cuddle and spooning sex. He loves the intimacy of becoming one and being as physically close to each other as possible, the position is sensual and intimate and he loves being able to press right up against you, your buddies wrap around each other and having his face pressed so closely to you. He can feel everything about you with all of his senses in the most overwhelming and amazing way. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Matt is a more serious lover, there’s gentle caresses and words spoken that are filled with love and need. Sometimes, in a slightly more cockier mood he may be a little less serious and have that devilish grin on his face and make a couple of more teasing comments and witty remarks to spice things up while he’s bringing you to release, but generally he’s more serious when you two are together during sex. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) 

Matt likes to be well-groomed in general and that applies to all of him including downstairs, he doesn’t necessarily like shaving down there but his preference is that he likes to keep things tidy and trimmed for himself. A view he’d never oppose on others and he’d never criticise or be put off by hair or a lack of.  

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

The intimacy is never lacking with Matt, he’s proud on his lovemaking abilities and he knows he’s an expert of the art of making partners swoon with his big brown eyes and charms. Matt is a passionate, sensual, lover who always makes sure you feels special and checks in on you in the sweetest, most genuine but also hot ways. He knows just how to romance you up and make the foreplay incredible with the goal of giving you as much pleasure as possible. He loves intimacy, there’s lots of affectionate touching, the sex often is in cuddling positions. His body moves in ways to reassure you of how much he yearns and worships you, his words are filled with love and passion during sex. He makes it intimate and filled with love. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t jack off very often. He prefers being intimate with others and he’s always had plenty of opportunities for mutual pleasure with others that he’s rarely felt the need to pleasure himself like that. He rarely does, and whenever he has he usually does it in the shower. He tries to focus on the feelings of pleasure and on the sound of the shower water running to drown out the rest of the overwhelming landscape of New York while he chases his high with swift strokes. But he prefers the feeling of someone else’s hands, fortunately, he has you now. And your hands are better than any feeling he could ever give himself. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Matt’s delved into and is pretty into bondage. He likes the feeling of the power dynamics, the gain and loss of power and control, how it feels on skin. He doesn’t mind who is who, he’s more than happy to be tied up for you and to surrender that type of control to you. He trusts you and wants to be used to give you as much pleasure as possible. But he’s also more than okay with being the one to tie you up and feel those materials against your skin and wear his signature smirk as he does. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Matt isn’t an exhibitionist and he’s not really into public or outdoors sex. He much prefers to keep sex in the privacy of his own home, the world is often overwhelming for him and there’s always a million things going on, in his little private corner that’s home, his partner can be just all his and it’s much easier for him to focus on and enjoy being with his partner. He loves the comfort and intimacy of keeping it in the bedroom, but Matt also loves the intimacy of spooning and cuddle sex on the couch. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Matt’s a giver, a pleaser, what gets him going is the mere idea of pleasuring you, he just wants to please you and give you the sweet, sweet, sweet release you deserve. It’s what turns him on and what gets him going, you always need to orgasm first, that’s his goal during intimacy and he tried to create an orgasm gap, one that’s in your favour. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s into bondage and we know that he has nothing against some light choking, but beyond that, he’s the type of man who still tries to be as good and respectful as possible. He wouldn’t be into more rough and violent sex or the more hardcore side of BDSM, he’d always be too scared to hurt his partners and the idea of inflicting intentional pain like that makes him very uncomfortable. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Matt is more than okay with receiving oral but there’s not doubt about it, he significantly prefers giving oral instead of receiving. As we’ve already clarified, he’s a giver. He wants to give you oral as much as you want him to, he’d happily spend his life buried in you, holding onto, gripping and caressing your thighs as he does. He’s obsessed with your taste, the way your body reacts as he’s pleasuring you and how he can sense everything going on with your hormones, pheromones, heartbeat, your breathing and then again as you orgasm. He loves to give oral and he’s absolutely skilled at it, he’s a king of it. He knows just how to use his mouth in the best possible way that makes you feel so good and gets you in your favourite places. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

His pace and style is always sensual when he’s with you. He’s done faster paced sex and sex that’s been more rough but he loves slow, sensual lovemaking while he cuddles and buries himself deep into you with a perfect pace that makes it last and is the definition of sensual. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) 

He likes to go all out with sex, for everyone involved to get their fair share of orgasms. Matt isn’t the biggest fan of his quickies but in angsty moments, he has been known to have a more angsty, potentially more rougher quickie than his usual slower and sensual lovemaking. It’s still filled with passion though. But he doesn’t do quickies often. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Matt’s definitely game to experiment and to communicate about it, listen to ideas with an open-mind and he’s curious in a charming way about things. He’s open to trying new positions, new toys, some different styles and dynamics. But he’s not into risks or experimentation that’s on the more moderate to extreme side of the spectrum. He’s not an exhibitionist type so he wouldn’t take those kind of risks with sexual activity and he wouldn’t be into risks in the world of bodily harm for example. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Matt lives off giving pleasure in the bedroom and is more than content with just going one round or having one orgasm if you’ve received everything you wanted and needed. He’s flexible and happy to please. But it also goes without saying that this man is the definition of sexual stamina, he can easily go multiple rounds and has no issue with lasting long. His rounds definitely aren’t short. He’s only interested in multiple rounds though if it’s what you crave. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Matt never owned toys and didn’t use them on himself, over time he started to experiment with toys and would happily use them on partners and had nothing against them really. He’d always smile while holding one in his hands, feeling it as a partner told him what it did and how it was used. This man has no security issues with toys, and views them as aids and fun, not competition.

 After dating you, there’s a drawer in the dresser that has a few different toys which he has no issue with. He’s definitely more experienced with them now, having tried things like vibrating strokers but he much prefers using toys on his partner. There’s an immediate smirk on his face as he turns them on, starts using them and hears your sweet noises and feels your body react. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a pleaser and a giver, he’s not really into edging because he just wants to give you pleasure, as much of it as he can, as soon as possible. There are times where he can be a bit playful and tease you, but you don’t even really need to beg for him to stop teasing and give in. He’s just so eager to please and doesn’t want to waste time when he could be loving on your body and making you so happy. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Matt’s pretty vocal and he’s not ashamed of that. He lets out a lot of groans as his brow furrows during sex, it’s an automatic response from him, he naturally makes noises, he’s known to whimper when he’s feeling sensitive and overstimulated, he moans but its his groans that are his loudest, most often and sexiest noise. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

That he can become a really needy and clingy lover, especially if you’re coming to the end after a day of multiple rounds. He’s always got to have at least one hand of his on you, he smothers you in kisses. He has you laid on the bed and he’s just still lazily going down on you, slowly as if you’re a dessert that he needs to be savoured. You also happen to be the best dessert he’s ever been able to put in his mouth and enjoy. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Whatever you rock with! 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Generally, Matt Murdock has a longing in his bones that his eyes cannot hide and pierces you with a desperate yearning for touch and love, in that type of matter of the word. But his sex drive is moderate and flexible, he gets a lot of pleasure out of giving pleasure so he doesn’t have an issue being with partners with lower or higher sex drives. He’s someone though who would be happy to just give much more often than receive or have penetrative intercourse as well though. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It depends. He’s big on aftercare and physical affection, so he definitely prioritises that and wouldn’t fall asleep immediately as he’d want to spend time cuddling and talking. After a long ‘double-shift’ of his lawyer by day and vigilante by night lifestyle, there would be times after sex where he would cuddle you and after a bit of talk, he’d fall asleep cuddling you and listening to the drum of your heartbeat as it lulls him to sleep. But sometimes he just likes to cuddle and talk to a ridiculous hour in the morning, he’s definitely an insomniac.

[123-im-writing-lol]

Matt Murdock x Autistic!Reader headcannons? Yes pls :3

Note: first time doing hcs so the format will probably suck. This is based off of my own experiences as an autistic person and how I think Matt would be with an autistic s/o 🤷‍♀️ also I wrote this on and off for a few days so sorry if it’s kinda incoherent at some points

Tw: sfw and nsfw, mentions of mental illness (I think?), Matt can pick reader up, terminology like “understimulated” “overstimulated” and “stim/stimming” being used, pet names (angel, sweetheart, honey, bug, etc), I tried to make the reader gender neutral but I myself identify as a woman so there might be some mistakes I overlooked. There might be more but I have a headache and can’t think at all so sorry :/

Sfw

• If you’re feeling under/overstimulated and need to stim intensely I feel like he’d help; picking you up by your ankles and letting you hang upsidedown for a few moments, squeezing/hugging you tightly/laying on top of you if you need deep pressure, etc.

• Would 100% be concerned about your more iffy stims / the ones that could get you hurt. Feels like he has to monitor you if you’re spinning in circles and shit:

*Standing a foot away while you spin, his arms instinctively reaching for you if he feels like you’re gonna fall.* “Sweetheart-! Be careful please”

/

*Quickly reaching out in order to help redirect you when you’re overwhelmed and doing something harmful (banging on your head, smacking your legs, etc).* “Hey. No, shh, come on, hold my hands. You gotta be careful beautiful.” *As he takes your hands in his, urging you to squeeze them in order to calm yourself.*

• Would be understanding and accommodating, especially because he himself is disabled.

Maybe you go to a restaurant and it’s really loud or busy, he’d definitely offer to go somewhere else or even take you home.

•Will warn you before using something loud (like a blender or vacuum). He just values your comfort.

• Respects your preferences even if they could be deemed stupid.

Back to the restaurant thing, I always feel the need to sit in the back of a restaurant and I always need to sit in a certain seat or else I feel uncomfortable and annoyed. Most people judge me for that but I have a feeling he wouldn’t.

/

If you need your food to be prepared a certain way he’s more than willing to learn how you like things and why you like them. (I need my sandwiches to be cut in half vertically every time. I will be very unhappy if cut diagonally and I will be very unhappy if it’s not cut at all)

/

You don’t like surprises? No problem, he never surprises you without permission, meaning he always gives you a choice. Some days are better than others after all, and not all surprises are equal. “Hey honey, I was thinking of surprising you with a treat on the way home from work. Do you wanna help me pick something out?” “Oh! Uh, yeah. Lemme get ___” or alternatively “oh! Uhm… no, I don’t really care.” Either way he always makes sure to ask.

• the lovely @deermurdock gave me this idea with her recent post on Matt feeding reader (check it out I love it):

If you have trouble remembering to eat Matt will 100% feed you throughout the day, or at least remind you to eat and drink.

“Here you go angel” *as he hands you a granola bar*

/

“Here, open up…” *places a piece of fruit into your mouth once your lips part.* “good job, thank you.”

/

“When was the last time you drank some water?” *when you’re in the middle of a project you’ve been working on for 2 hours*

• if you tend to yap he 100% is a listener. Whether it’s you rambling about your day or going into detail about your interests, he’ll listen, and if need be memorize details.

College Matt quote:

Foggy: “What are you looking for, my young padawan?”

Matt: “I don’t know. I guess just someone I really like to listen to.”

Like I get it was a joke but it also wasn’t a joke 🙄

/

*you rambling about the tv show you recently started, mentioning your favorite and most hated characters so far as well as the plot, what you think will happen, a funny detail you noticed, and how Matt reminds you of this one side character you adore. Meanwhile he listens the whole time, smiling softly and encouraging you to continue.* “Oh yeah, what’s it about?” “Oh wow.” “Really?” “You’re right, that’s ridiculous.” “You’re so smart sweetheart, that definitely seems plausible.” “From what you’ve told me so far he seems like a dick.” *and then the next time you sit down to watch said show he’ll spew commentary from the kitchen.* “Did ___ get the special artifact yet? …but I thought she wanted it? …ugh, that doesn’t make any sense! Why would she do that?!”

• I feel like he’d definitely bond with you over the whole disability aspect of it. I can see the both of you ranting to each other each time someone’s ableist and always reassuring each other that they’re not a burden for needing extra help sometimes.

“When I went to check out the new bakery by that bookstore you like I had asked the employee to read off some of the things they have and he said, quote, ‘look buddy, I don’t have all day. This is a bakery, there’s only so many things we could sell.’ Safe to say I was a little surprised and ended up leaving.”

/

“When I was at work I was trying to get something off the printer but I didn’t notice that I was in the way of my coworker, so when I tried to move out of the way she called me the r word under her breath cause I wasn’t moving quick enough.”

/

*When you come home on the verge of a meltdown and flinch away from any affection you feel guilty.* “Sorry, I just— my clothes are so tight and I’m hot and I can’t breathe and I was supposed to be home an hour ago but I had to stay after my shift to help my coworker!” “Sweetheart it’s okay, I’m not mad. What can I do to help you? Would you like some space? I can draw you a bath, or get you something to eat?”

• Will probably pick up certain stims, whether that be tactile, vocal, etc.

*You spinning and fidgeting with your ring one day, Matt notices and subconsciously mimics it a week later when you gift him a matching ring. Now he fidgets with it each time he wears it.*

/

*Sitting in his lap and feeling so much love you can’t help but chomp on his bicep. In turn when Matt feels a lot of love for you he’ll bite your neck or shoulders.*

/

True story, every time I see or even think of a cat I can’t help but start talking gibberish. It just scratches my brain so much. I did it in front of my friend and after her shock wore off she ended up picking the habit up and so now every time she sees a cat she does the same thing. Matt would do that.

• I like to think you introduced a lot of different fidget toys to him as well as things like sound reduction earbuds. I’m not sure if he’d actually like them or not, but If overwhelmed I can imagine it’d be helpful to him as well as you.

Nsfw

• Will talk to you about sex and not have it lead to actual sex. What I mean is that I tend to explain my thought process and stuff so I can see an autistic s/o talking to Matt about some of their kinks or sexual preferences just because they wanna yap to him and instead of always getting horny I feel like he’d actually just listen. He’d probably end up joining in on the conversation too.

• If you’re feeling under/overstimulated he’d probably use sex to try to help you. He’d probably be hesitant at first, not wanting to feel like he’s coercing you but if you assure him you’re okay with it then he’d be down to do whatever he can to help. After all, if you’re so fucked out you can barely process anything how can you still feel shitty? (Hypothetically speaking of course)

• Similarly I can’t help but think that you’d both incorporate your disabilities into kink. People always talk about his heightened senses during sex, which yes, but what about you? Maybe you wear your noise canceling headphones while he fucks you because your ears feel sensitive so you can drown out the sound of your guys’s moaning in order to not overwhelm yourself. Sorry not sorry but using his cane during sex or foreplay🧎‍♀️‍➡️

• For so long I’ve thought about stimming during sex. I’m a virgin (😔) so this is pure speculation but knowing myself I feel like if I loved the person I 100% would stim a lot during sex, especially soft and passionate sex. Cause you just love each other so much, how can you not squeal and flap your hands while he’s kissing your cheek lovingly (while spearing you with his cock 😵‍💫). I feel like he’d find it absolutely adorable, especially knowing that you’re not faking any of your love for him. You care for him so much you physically can’t handle it!

/

Similarly I’ve heard people tend to play music when they have sex to make it less awkward or as like background noise. Imagine one of your favorite songs coming on while he’s railing you:

*Face buried into the mattress you groan lowly as his hips continue to slam against your ass, repeatedly filling you to the brim with his cock. Suddenly the mind numbing pleasure is at the back of your mind when you hear the first few notes of one of your favorite songs. Your body tenses as you lift yourself up onto your elbows, gasping excitedly as you turn to look at Matt over your shoulder.* “Eeeek! Oh my gosh! It’s ___! It’s playing ___!” *Matt’s movements can’t help but still as he feels your walls fluttering excitedly around him, a strained chuckle escaping him.* “Holy shit sweetheart, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight…” *Suddenly brought back to the present, his words cause that burning in your tummy to return.* “Sorry, I just love this song so much I can’t even–!“ *Squealing into the pillow your hands begin to white knuckle the sheets, your body trembling as you attempt to hold in a giggle. Shaking his head fondly Matt leans down and presses a kiss to the back of your head, the pace of his hips going from fast and rough to languid and deep, allowing you to fully enjoy the rest of the song as well as a mind blowing orgasm all while humming the lyrics to yourself.*

• Similarly I feel like he wouldn’t really get mad if you got distracted during sex. I personally probably have adhd too but when I do things and something comes to mind it’s like I immediately have to go down a rabbit hole.

”You’re so good, making such pretty noises for me…” *Immediately your eyes snap open, scanning Matt’s pleasure filled face as a thought strikes you.* “oh my gosh Matt i just remembered! You literally just reminded me– remember how earlier this week I said I was gonna show you ___?” *Pausing mid thrust he gives you a quizzical look.* “…yes?” *You’re quick to continue, not at all worried about ruining the steaminess of the moment.* “Well I just remembered now, oh my gosh you gotta see this! Or, well, hear this.” *Reaching onto your nightstand you grab your phone and unlock it, beginning to scroll through it in search of what you wanted to show him. An amused snicker is all you get in response, Matt leaning down and pressing loving kisses to your chest and shoulders while you do what you need to do. He’s more than patient if it means making you happy.*

^^ lol did I edit this after posting it? Yes ;3

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 2: "Of Drinking and Dishonesty"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: 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.

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 3.9k

a/n: Enjoy the next little angsty installment for this series! I've been having fun writing a bit more about the college period than expected and our next installment gets angstier. Because who does Matt date in college? Yup. She's here. You can find the entire list of installments for this series here. Feedback is always appreciated if you're enjoying the series as well!

Tag list: @theetherealbloom @rotscinema

“Okay, okay, so I took Punjabi and didn’t learn anything. Big deal!” Foggy said, waving a dismissive hand. “At least I got to talk to that really hot chick in class.”

“But that’s all you did,” Matt pointed out. “You never even managed to get her number.”

Foggy let out a sigh, a faraway look on his face as he gazed just past Matt’s shoulder. You giggled at the sight; you’d heard the story about the girl Fog had taken Punjabi just to talk to many times before, but it never failed to amuse you how little he’d actually learned because he’d been distracted by her instead.

“So what about you?” Matt asked. 

He turned in your direction, leaning his elbows along the table and drawing himself closer to you. Your fingers were fiddling nervously with the beer bottle on the table in front of you, absently peeling the label from it. The way Matt was focused on you with that little grin on his mouth in the dimly lit bar had sent your heart racing, the weight of his sightless gaze on you behind his dark glasses making you nervous. For a moment your eyes lingered on his lips, wondering just how great of a kisser he might be. How it might feel if he just leaned a bit closer towards you and connected his mouth to yours. Or what it would be like to curl up with him in your bed after this, feel his tongue in your mouth and his hands roaming your body instead of someone else’s…

You cleared your throat, shoving those thoughts quickly away. You flushed when you realized you’d been staring silently at Matt, his brows having started to rise curiously onto his forehead at you.

“What about me?” you asked awkwardly.

“I never hear you talk about going on dates or taking classes just to meet a guy,” Matt said, that grin still on his mouth. “I think it’s your turn to spill some embarrassing stories.”

You met Foggy’s eyes on your other side, his smile faltering at Matt’s question. Swallowing hard, your gaze quickly dropped down as you focused on your beer bottle in front of you again. You shrugged in response.

“Guess no one’s caught my eye,” you lied.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Matt shaking his head. Looking back up at him, you noticed his grin had widened on his perfect mouth. Immediately you frowned at the sight.

“Come on, be honest here,” Matt pressed, leaning even closer to you as one of his dark brows rose up onto his forehead. “You’ve never taken a class just to talk to someone? Or anything like that?”

You exhaled slowly, eyes falling away from Matt. It’s not like you could be entirely truthful here. Maybe you hadn’t taken a class to get to know someone you’d had a crush on like Foggy, or asked for assistance to intentionally get some one-on-one time with someone like Matt had often done. But you had become best friends with the guy you had a thing for. Rearranged your entire schedule to fit his so you could see him almost every day despite how utterly pathetic it often made you feel. 

But you certainly couldn’t admit that .

“Don’t tell me there’s no one you have a thing for,” Matt urged after a moment. “I won’t believe you.”

His arm slid across the table to nudge yours in a friendly, playful gesture. Your eyes instantly dropped down to where he’d touched you, your arm feeling like that single, brief touch had sent a burning fire through your entire body. But when your eyes darted back up to Matt’s face, your attention was drawn to just over his shoulder. There was a young woman in a group of a few others back at the bar, and it was obvious how her attention kept shifting back to Matt, checking him out.

Shoulders slumping, your head dropped low as you focused back on your beer bottle. That jealous, dejected feeling washed over you. It was one you’d become familiar with lately, feeling it whenever Matt was flirting, or being checked out, or out on a date, or clearly out having sex with someone. 

“Not anyone who’d ever notice me,” you muttered.

“Oh well now I’m sure that’s not true,” Matt said good-naturedly. “How could someone not notice you? You’re amazing. Right, Fog?”

Your head flew up, eyes going wide at Matt’s compliment. He’d called you amazing. Matt had never said anything like that before about you. Your mind suddenly was spiraling in a different direction for once, thoughts quickly running through your mind one after another.

Could Foggy have been right? Was it possible Matt maybe did have an interest in you? Maybe all this time all you’d needed to do was just tell him how you felt. Maybe he’d never asked you on a date before because you weren’t forward with your feelings like all of the other women who’d very openly flirted with him. 

Maybe it was just as simple as that.

“I tell her that all the time,” Foggy agreed easily. “And I’m sure whoever this guy is sees it, too.”

He shot you a pointed look before his eyes darted meaningfully across the table to Matt. Slowly your gaze followed where Foggy’s had, attention returning back to Matt. He had focused back on you as well, that beautiful charming smile of his on his mouth. Biting your lip, you contemplated thinking up some way to just tell Matt how you felt here and now and put everything out there in the open. Especially before the girl making eyes at him could come over and steal him away for the night. But before you could open your mouth, Matt was continuing on.

“You should really give yourself more credit,” he told you. “Any guy would be lucky to take you on a date.”

Hope was quickly rising in your chest, your body suddenly feeling weightless. “You–you think so?” you asked him cautiously.

“Absolutely,” he answered, one hand coming up to readjust his dark glasses on his nose. “You’re a sweet, intelligent girl. And you’re funny as hell. Honestly, I was not expecting you to be as hilarious as you are.”

“Yeah?” you asked.

Beside you, you noticed the way Foggy’s wide eyes were darting back and forth between you and Matt like he was just waiting for the moment one of you admitted feelings or something. It felt like your stomach was filling with hundreds of anxious butterflies all flapping about inside of you as that hope only bloomed further in you. 

“Oh, definitely,” Matt said with a nod. “You’re like a female Foggy. Which is high praise, because Foggy is the absolute best friend anyone could ask for.”

Instantly you deflated as if Matt had just punched you in the gut. 

You’re like a female Foggy.  

…the absolute best friend anyone could ask for.

Mouth dropping open, you sat there dumbfounded and hurt. Every ounce of hope that maybe you’d misread the situation–maybe he didn’t see you as just a friend–immediately dropped into your half finished bottle of beer and drowned. Your chest felt hollow as Matt’s smile briefly faltered before you. 

Attention returning back towards Foggy on your left, you saw him shooting you that all-too-familiar sad smile again. You wanted to crawl under the table and cry at the sight of it.

“You’re both suddenly really quiet,” Matt pointed out, his tone a bit nervous. “Did I–I say something wrong?”

You couldn’t look at him, your gaze dropping yet again to the table before you. Tears pricked at your eyes as you tried to fight them back, clearing your throat as you blinked hard a few times. 

“No,” you answered softly. “Thanks, Matt.”

“You–you sound upset,” he pointed out. “What’d I say wrong?”

“Dude,” Foggy began immediately, “you just told her she was best friend material when you were supposed to be giving her encouragement that she is more than that.”

“What? No,” Matt said quickly.

Your eyes caught sight of how fast his head turned in your direction out of your peripheral. That hollow feeling felt like it was only growing in your chest the longer you sat here. Maybe you should just call it a night and head back to your dorm before it swallowed you whole.

“That’s not what I meant,” Matt said earnestly. 

He said your name, his hand reaching out and feeling along the table before it eventually landed on your wrist. Your eyes snapped shut, your jaw clenching at the contact of his skin on yours when his fingers encircled your wrist. It wasn’t helping.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to say you were just friend material,” he continued. “That’s not what I meant. It came out wrong.”

“It’s fine, Matt, I get it,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly.

“No, hey, I’m sorry. I’m an idiot,” he said in a rush, his hand holding tighter to your wrist. “Please don’t get upset. I just meant you’re a really great person, one of the best I’ve ever met. I’m sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”

“Yeah, alright,” you said with a nod, desperate for him to just stop.

“How about this,” Matt said, his tone picking up to something brighter, “you bring me with to meet this guy, and I’ll be the best wingman ever." 

You slipped your wrist out from Matt’s hold, no longer interested in sitting here and finishing your beer. Walking home in the cool evening and crying sounded vastly more appealing. Abruptly shoving your chair out, the legs of it making an irritating screech along the floor that was audible over the pop music playing, you slipped out of your seat.

“You heading back already?” Foggy asked, that knowing look on his face.

“Yeah, early class tomorrow,” you answered.

“Wait, hang on,” Matt said, pushing his own chair back as he turned in his seat towards you. “If you’re leaving because I upset you, I’m sorry.”

You sighed, pushing your chair back into the table so he wouldn’t end up tripping over it when he inevitably got up. “I’m leaving because I have an early class in the morning, Matt,” you deadpanned.

Your eyes caught the brief twitch of his eyebrows on his forehead as if he somehow knew you were lying. He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off before he could try to apologize yet again. That, too, wasn’t helping. 

“I’ll see you guys later,” you said quickly, shooting Foggy a wave as you took a step back.

“Dining hall for lunch tomorrow?” Fog asked hopefully.

“Sure,” you answered, shooting him a tight smile. Turning, you muttered under your breath, “If I even have an appetite by then.”

Weaving your way through the fairly busy bar, you eventually made it to the exit. You pushed the door open, stepping out into the chilly late spring evening. You felt a bit of the tension easing from your body already, the street noise of the city vastly preferable to you than being in Matt’s proximity right now. You couldn’t sit there any longer listening to him apologize to you for viewing you as only a best friend. 

You were an idiot to have thought there was hope for something more between you both. Of course he was only saying nice things that a friend would say to another friend to make them feel better and build them up. It was the same thing he’d probably say to Foggy if he was interested in a girl. How stupid you were to think of it as anything else. 

Any guy would be lucky to take you on a date.

You laughed bitterly at his comment, your arms hugging tight to your chest as you made the short trek back to campus and towards your dorm. Any guy except for Matt would be lucky to take you on a date, that’s basically what you gathered this evening. Matt was probably going to be hit on by that girl at the bar in a matter of minutes. You were positive he’d end up in either her dorm or his shortly afterwards. But you were not someone Matt would take on a date.

A frown twisted your mouth downwards, tears stinging at your eyes. You didn’t want to think about yet another conquest for Matt. It felt shitty that Matt would sleep with almost any girl on campus except for you. Not that that’s all you wanted from him–because you wanted vastly more than to just fuck him–but it made you feel like there was something wrong with you. 

Why weren’t you good enough? What was so different about you that Matt didn’t want you like he did with those other girls?

A tear slipped down your cheek and you reached a hand up, wiping it away. Seconds later you heard your phone ringing in your pocket and your frown deepened. You reached down, pulling it out and looking at the caller ID. Matt’s name was on the screen. Your eyes closed as you came to a stop on the sidewalk. You didn’t want to talk to him, why the hell was he calling you?

For a minute you considered letting his call go to your voicemail and ignoring it. You could always just tell him later that you’d had it on silent and didn’t realize he’d called until the next morning. How would he know you were lying? 

But you felt guilty at the thought of ignoring him just because he’d unintentionally hurt you. It’s not like Matt could control who he was or wasn’t attracted to. That wasn’t his fault. With a sigh you flipped the phone open, bringing it to your ear.

“Hey, Matt,” you answered, trying to keep the waver out of your voice.

He greeted you with your name, his voice sounding a little out of breath. You frowned.

“What’s going on? Something happen at the bar?” you asked, brows furrowing.

“No, not exactly,” he answered quickly. “Fog saw this girl he likes there. I think her name is Marci? Figured I’d leave him to it and check on you, actually. Which is why I called. How far from the bar did you get? I was trying to catch up.”

Biting your lip, you turned on the spot, stepping out of the way of a small group of college kids walking past you. A little ways back you could make out Matt’s form heading down the sidewalk towards you, his cane tapping away in one hand, his other hand holding his phone to his ear. Shoulders dropping, you realized you were going to have to walk back with him. Which was the last thing you’d been wanting to do right now.

“You didn’t need to leave on my account, Matt,” you told him.

“You seemed upset, I didn’t want you to walk back alone like that,” he replied. “So how far away did you get?”

Sighing, you began walking back the way you’d come. “I can see you, I’ll just turn back around and meet you in a minute,” you said.

Both of you exchanged goodbyes before you hung up, slipping your phone into your pant’s pocket before you once again uncomfortably wrapped your arms around your chest. It took you about a minute to reach Matt and you greeted him once you did, watching as his head darted in your direction. That damn charming smile slipped onto his face instantly and you hated the way it made you feel.

“Was hoping I’d manage to find you,” he greeted you back.

“Congrats,” you muttered. “I can walk you back to your dorm, if you want.”

“Well now that defeats the purpose of me walking you back to your dorm,” Matt countered cheekily.

You rolled your eyes, unable to fight the small smile snaking its way onto your lips. Reaching out, you placed Matt’s outstretched hand in the crook of your arm. His warm fingers curled around you, that hollow pit in your chest suddenly growing larger as you began to guide him back towards campus. 

For a little bit neither of you spoke, your body tense as Matt held onto you while the pair of you walked back towards your dorms. His cane tapping along the pavement mixed with the noises of the city, the sound lingering heavily over the pair of you.

“Are you okay?” Matt asked, eventually breaking the silence.

His question caught you off guard, your lips pressing together as Columbia came into view. Once again, it’s not like you could be truthful with Matt. You couldn't tell him you had feelings for him–had them for months–and that him calling you a female Foggy had deeply hurt you. You’d only embarrass yourself and ruin your friendship with him.

“Yeah,” you answered.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his head turn swiftly in your direction. Your teeth ground together under the weight of his attention. 

“Can you be honest with me this evening?” he asked.

“Who says I’m not?” you countered.

“Because I know you,” he answered immediately. “You sounded close to tears earlier before you left the bar. You’re not telling your usual jokes or laughing. You’ve been pretty quiet most of this evening, especially during this walk. You’re just giving brief responses when I know you love to talk.”

Your eyes remained fixed on the sidewalk before you as you led the pair of you down a different path, one that would bring you towards the residence halls. Internally you cursed Matt and his astute observations. 

“Was it what I said at the bar?” he pried. “Because I didn’t mean it like that, I swear.”

“Can we please stop talking about that already?” you snapped.

Heat flooded your cheeks immediately after your outburst. You hadn’t meant to snap at him, but you were tired of hearing his apology. And you certainly didn’t need to hear him offer to be your wingman again.

“So it was what I said,” he replied. 

His head turned, his attention once again on you as you both continued to walk. Your gaze remained fixed ahead of you, though.

“Why did that bother you so much?” he asked gently.

“Because I–” you stopped instantly, unsure of how to navigate this conversation without giving everything away. You sighed, shaking your head. “Because I’m always the friend,” you admitted weakly, tears stinging at your eyes again. “And I don’t understand what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Matt said earnestly. “Why would you even think that?”

You shook your head, glad when you saw your building coming into view. You were desperate for an excuse to get out of this conversation. Especially because you felt the threat of tears growing stronger.

"It doesn't matter, forget I said that," you replied.

Matt pulled you to a stop on the sidewalk instantly. Surprised, you turned towards him, beginning to blink back the tears threatening to spill forth.

"It does matter if it's got you this upset," he pushed. "I meant what I said earlier. Any guy would be lucky to take you on a date. And if whoever this guy is has got you feeling this down on yourself, he's probably an asshole."

You couldn't help the humorless laugh that fell out of you. Little did he know he'd just called himself an asshole and you couldn't help but see the humor in it. The sound of your laugh only caused Matt’s brows to furrow though, his fingers tightening their hold on your arm. 

"What?" he asked. "Why is that funny?"

Because it's you, you idiot.

"It's not funny," you answered instead. "I just feel stupid."

He said your name softly, shaking his head. "Hey, you're not stupid" he assured you.

You couldn't stop the tears that fell, that ache in your chest only deepening with every nice word from his mouth that didn't mean what you desperately wanted it to. Matt's head tilted to the side at your silence, but the moment you couldn't fight back a choked sob, he was quickly pulling you in towards him.

One of his arms wrapped around your back, the other gently drawing your head towards his solid chest, cradling you carefully against him as his fingers lightly stroked their way through your hair. Your own hands easily wrapped around him, holding tight to him as you cried into his shirt. His hand along your back began rubbing a soothing pattern, managing it somehow even with the cane still held in his hand. His comforting presence only had you fisting his shirt tighter in your hands as you became overwhelmed with your emotions, crying harder when you felt him rest his chin along the top of your head. Somehow his hands held you even closer to himself. 

You'd often imagined what it would feel like to be in Matt's embrace so many times before; what it would feel like to be in his arms, breathing in that warm, familiar scent of him. But you’d never pictured it like this. Never because you were crying over not being able to be with him while he unknowingly comforted you for it.

"Maybe he's not the right guy," Matt whispered. "If he can't see how great you are, maybe he's not the one worth feeling like this about."

"He's not an asshole though," you choked out, voice muffled against his chest. "That's the thing."

"You'll find someone," he assured you. "Someone who will see every wonderful thing about you. Someone who won't make you feel like this about yourself."

"He usually doesn't," you muttered. 

"Usually doesn't what?" he asked softly.

"Make me feel like this," you said, turning to rest your cheek against his chest. "Usually he makes me feel good. Happy." Your fingers tightened their hold around his shirt as you sniffled. "Special. But–but he doesn't know how I feel and I am positive he doesn't feel that way in return. And that's what hurts."

"How do you know if you don't tell him?" Matt asked.

Matt’s words at the bar ran through your mind again and your eyes snapped shut. 

You’re like a female Foggy.  

…the absolute best friend anyone could ask for.

"Believe me, I know," you answered stiffly. 

Forcing yourself to release your hold on Matt, you stepped back as he untangled his hold on you in return. You wrapped your arms uncomfortably around yourself yet again, your attention on your feet. 

"Sorry, this was stupid," you mumbled. "I can finish walking to my dorm myself, Matt. But thanks for uh, trying to help."

He took a step towards you, concern clearly written on his face. "I can walk you the rest of the way. It's not–"

"I want to be alone," you told him firmly. 

He stared at you in silence for a moment before he finally nodded. "Okay," he replied. "I'll see you tomorrow though, right?"

You sighed heavily, eventually nodding. Because you knew you were too weak to give Matt up. You knew that despite how much it hurt to see him with other women all the time, the thought of him permanently missing from your life hurt worse.

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, Matty," you whispered. 

Turning, you made your way down the path towards your hall, tears still silently streaming down your cheeks. You ignored the stares of passing students, wiping away the dampness on your cheeks with the back of your hand as you walked. 

These feelings would eventually fade. They had to.

[peterman-spideyparker]

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

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

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

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

Other Characters: College!Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 8.081

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

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

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

“How so?”

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

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

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

Matt just laughs, his fingers sliding across the page.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Delegating,” he attempts.

“Laziness,” you counter.

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

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

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

“And I do like talking to you.”

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

“Asshole.”

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

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

“Hey yourself, Murdock,” you counter.

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

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

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

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

“So are you,” you breathe.

“(Y/N), I—."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Likewise,” he says with a little nod.

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

“Do not!” Foggy interjects.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Extremely,” you breathe with a bright smile.

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm, you true gentleman.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A dingle.”

“A dingle, yeah.”

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

“So, is that a yes, Murdock?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Matty,” you whine. “Fuck!”

“Doin’ good, angel. Fuck, so good.”

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

“I’m gonna . . . I—.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you thinking about?” he whispers.

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

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

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

“I’m just saying . . .”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do. Now, sit on the bed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Objection—badgering!”

“Overruled.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I told you.”

“I could have sworn I had plenty.”

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

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

“Damn, you’re right,” you sigh.

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

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

“It’s not too late, sweetheart.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Foggy isn’t there?” you check.

“Out with Marci.”

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

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

“Matt—.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.

“Matt, who’s with you?”

“Foggy—.”

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

“Fog—.”

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

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

“Stop it!” you urge.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!”

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

“Excuse me—.”

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

“Foggy—.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You squeeze it back. “No. It won’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not your fault, (Y/N).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You always make me smile, Matty.”

“Ditto, angel.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Matty, it’s okay.”

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

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

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

“Matty—.”

“I’ll foot the bill.”

“It’s not about money, I—.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No sleep til Brooklyn,” you smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened? How’d she hurt it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think so?” Foggy asks hesitantly.

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

“Thanks, Matt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Two sugars?” you ask softly.

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

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

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

“Listen, (Y/N)—.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, Fog. Do you forgive me?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, thanks,” you hum.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How about save the world?” you offer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[friesforfriday]

A real first kiss (Matt Murdock x F!Reader / College AU)

Summary: You tell Matt no one has ever kissed you out of love. He makes sure to correct that.

Wordcount: 2.5K ish

Warnings/Tags: No use of y/n, reader uses she/her pronouns (no physical descriptions aside from that), college AU, Matt and reader are both in law school, some angst, something that could be read as dissociation (reader feels disconnected to an experience), reader is not straight? (no sexual orientation specified but there's an interaction that is not heterosexual / only kissing tho), comfort at the end (bc I am a sucker for happy endings lol)

A/N: This was oddly personal, and while it’s a little short it was very therapeutic to write. Pretty much wanted to do something that related to being a late bloomer (like I have been my whole life) plus some fluff (: Please take into account that this wasn't proof read and that English isn't my first language; if you happen to see any mistakes, do let me know so I can fix them. Hope you enjoy this!

For most people, their first kiss was usually a memory of their early teenage years, maybe even a childhood one. You could recall the stories your friends have told you. For some it was born out of sunny days during summer camp where connections were born after swimming in a lake all afternoon, quickly followed by laughter scattered into open fields or forests between games of capture the flag. That turned into late-night conversations, sneaking out from each other’s cabin after curfew to meet under the starry sky. 

Or perhaps for some it started out as a hallway crush. The kind that you would reveal only to your closest friends, and you all hid under silly codenames. If you locked eyes during free period, it stirred up giggling. And guess what?It turned out they’d been watching you all along. After gathering all your courage, a study date would turn into something more once your knuckles brushed accidentally.

The list could go and on, their stories all very innocent and sweet, most likely a terrible kisses, but nevertheless worth remembering.

If you added to that all the romantic books you’d read, movies, and what not, there were plenty more stories you could think of, from childhood friends turned to high school sweethearts or plenty about games of truth or dare or spin the bottle. Reality or fiction, first kisses tended to be meaningless beyond their experience value, with the rare exception of those who actually found love through them.

Throughout the years, you had patiently waited for your turn. You didn’t have many expectations of how it would actually happen, you just held on for the moment to finally occur. How difficult could it be? It literally seemed to happen to everyone around you. So you just waited, surely things would flow naturally, right?

Middle school rolled by, which was fine. A lot of people need more time to grow into themselves, it would eventually happen, you were sure. Maybe it wasn’t going to be one of those awkward extended pecks that your friends said seemed to last forever. They insisted it was for the best, no one really knows what they’re doing when they still haven’t even fully hit puberty. If you had your first kiss a little later in life, there was a higher chance it wasn’t going to be completely awful. You could deal with that; high school was supposed to be a more exciting chance to expand your circle. 

Boy were you wrong.

By this point, it was possible that maybe you had watched too many rom-coms or read one too many romance novels. You’re sure now that it helped in no way to ease your expectations. Seriously how difficult could it be? You saw it all. Your best friends got into relationships, went on dates, celebrated anniversaries, and had their hearts broken, only to survive them and start all over again. Kids in your classes, the kind to never speak their minds, suddenly grew into themselves and found their people too. 

During lunchtime, couples sat next to each other, holding hands in the cafeteria. Field trips meant seeing impromptu make-out sessions in the back of the school bus. Your friends received proposals for homecoming and eventually proms; always happy to invite you to come along when you didn’t receive any. At the occasional party you did attend, corners turned into your safe spot as you watched as others were approached. Not once did anyone come to strike up a conversation, to casually sweep you off your feet. It only led you to wonder if you were doing something, anything, wrong.

Love seemed to be everywhere, just never in your life.

You’d be lying to say it didn’t hurt your self-esteem. How come it hadn’t happened to you? Were you really that unattractive or uninteresting or whatever it was for no one to be interested in you? Your friends, or anyone who found out, always assured you saying you weren’t the problem, but the evidence seemed to point elsewhere. 

You manages to endure a little longer. After your high school graduation, the prospect of college lifted you spirits. With all the people that attended such a big school, you’d be sure to meet new people or at least get your mind off it.

It was even worse. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the embarrassment inexperience brought upon you. At some point you just started to lie your way through games of never have I ever; because let’s face it, admitting to a dozen strangers that you’ve never even held hands romantically wasn’t how you pictured spending your Friday and Saturday evenings. And that wasn’t even the worst part. Opening bathroom doors to couples straight up fucking or having to leave your dorm when your roommate brought a date every other week made you feel majority behind.

After spending your freshman year sulking, you decided it had been enough. At this point, you knew you were a late bloomer, but c’mon, those “the right person will find you when you least expect it” pep talks were starting to feel like bullshit. For fucks sake, it didn’t even matter anymore if they actually liked you, you just wanted to get it over with.

Matters were taken into your own hands on a Saturday night. The crowded spaces did you no favors to appease your social anxiety. As you walked around, room after room was filled to the brim with strangers, your friends nowhere to be found. The floor of the frat house they had dragged you to remained particularly sticky everywhere you went, especially in the kitchen where you had stopped to refill the red plastic cup in your hands.

As you poured rum into your half full glass of coke, a familiar voice called your name from across the room, “Oh my God, is that really you?”

And so, greetings were exchanged, as well as short debriefings of what you’d been up to since graduating. For all the time you’d been at Columbia, that was the first time you’d run into someone from your hometown.

Soon enough you were sitting in a half-empty deck, laughing and reminiscing about middle school. The green eyes that looked at you weren’t full of love or lust, but had a strange tinge of nostalgia. If you were being honest, it was one of those old friendships that stood had faded into nothing more than an acquaintance, and you suddenly knew you had an opportunity laid at your feet.

In all honesty, you could’ve gone simply with catching up and then left to look for one of your friends. Looking at him, you recalled all the times you joked around in Literature class or the times his parents gave you a ride home before you inevitably grew apart in high school. There was no spark when your knees brushed in the small sofa you were sitting in; but there was no discomfort either, so against your better judgement you decided to go for it.

By all means, it was a good kiss, at least that’s how you remember it now. At the time, there wasn’t anything else to compare it to, but none of the complaints you’d heard before happened. There wasn’t any unnecessary clash of teeth, it didn’t feel like he was shoving his tongue down your throat, he kept his hands safely and softly cupping your cheeks and neck. According to all the standards of all of your friends, this was an A+ experience.

By the time you were heading back to your dorm, you found yourself finally able to check having your first kiss off your bucket list. A sudden feeling of pride ran through your body as you walked through campus. Finally.

Unfortunately, though, after you’d washed your face and were sharing the news over the phone with your best friend, you realized that while everything had seemingly gone smoothly, you still felt the odd knot inside your chest. Like nothing had really changed. It was hard to put into words, how your body had felt out of its own, like you were playing a character as your lips met his, or maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you. Because for some reason, you hadn’t really felt there when it happened. It just sort of seemed to occur.

“You’re kidding, right?” Matt’s said flat out, although you knew his deadpan tone was just for show.

Letting out a giggle you said, “Why would I lie about that?”

“That jerk was your first kiss?”

“He wasn’t a jerk, we were friends in mid-” you tried to defend the choices of you past self between bursts of laughter, but he didn’t let you continue. His sour expression growing by the second.

“He’s a conservative bigot, a Republican-governor-wannabe, how is he not–”

“He wasn’t back then!” Raising your tone, you barely held it in before your laughter burst out again at the same time Matt’s did, because yeah he was right – that dude did end up becoming a jerk. Except it didn’t really matter because you were never actually into him, and you can’t blame yourself for who your middle school classmates end up becoming.

“But he is now.”

You both kept laughing, shoulders brushing as you sat on the bed on his side of the dorm room. Foggy had ditched you both for tonight, opting out of your usual weekend hangout in favor of a date with someone called Marci, or so he’d said.

“Okay, okay, fiiiine, I’ll give you that,” you said in your defense, lightly shoving his shoulder with your own. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I didn’t actually like him.”

“Wait…” Matt said scrunching his nose in disbelief, his laughter slowly dying down, his face dead serious for real this time. “What are you talking about, why'd you kiss him then?”

With his face suddenly turned in your direction, you felt a your cheeks grow warm. “I guess… I just wanted to get it over with.”

An apologetic smile was what he offered in return, with no real judgment behind it. “Well, it should’ve been more special ... silly as it may be, you know... not just anyone.”

His words stop you in your tracks for a split second, a bittersweet feeling creeping up your chest. You’d never actually considered it, but in the years that had passed since that night, you didn’t recall that any other single kiss you’d received had actually been born from real love or any true feelings at all. 

There was that one time you hit it off with someone at a friend’s birthday. The light conversation between the colorful lights had you blushing more than usual. Their body was warm against yours when their lips were pressed to your own. The taste of their lip balm was sweet, almost sugary on your tongue, but it was all a spur-of-the-moment situation. While, unlike the first time, where you’d felt disconnected from your body, this time you’d actually enjoyed it. There was a warm feeling, maybe happiness, but definitely not affection and surely not love.

Then there were some other guys, whom you had very much liked. They listened to you and talked eagerly with you every time you bumped into each other, yet never actually asked you out. They flirted with you or had their friends act as their wingmen to eventually end up making out with you during random parties, but never – you realized – not one single time had anyone ever been interested in you affectionately, with tenderness or sincerity.

As if on cue, as if he could somehow sense what you were thinking, Matt broke the sudden silence that had grown in the room. “I didn’t mean to overstep I–”

You shook your head, breaking free from your thoughts, “No, no, I just… I don’t think I’ve ever had a…” Your voice quieted down before you could finish the sentence. While you weren’t ashamed of any of your experiences anymore, you couldn’t quite seem to get rid of the lingering pain that followed all of them.

“A real connection?”

Your eyes darted up to look at Matt; red glasses were shielding his eyes from yours, but did not cover the furrow of concern between his brows. It wasn’t a secret to Matt that you’d never been in a relationship. You’d told him at some point, during one of the many late-night conversations you enjoyed having. He’d found it hard to believe, truly, how anyone would pass on the chance of earning your trust. The thing was, anyone willing to pass on your endless compassion, your particular sense of humor, the softness of your skin, or the brilliance of your mind was a jackass, and he sure as hell wasn’t one.

He’d known you all of law school, at least all year and a half you’d both taken of it, although to him it might as well be a lifetime because he couldn’t quite picture a time when he didn’t recognize the sound of your heartbeat by memory. Right from the day you sat next to him in the Civil Procedures course, it took him no time to think of an excuse to talk to you, ignoring Foggy – who was also sitting next to him – to ask you if you’d care to study together someday.

Here and now, your very same heartbeat thumped loudly mere inches away from him. The opportunity he had once longed for.

“C’mon man, you gotta tell her at some point” was what Foggy had told him a few hours prior, before he’d left you two alone on purpose. “She obviously likes you, for real. It’s time.”

“I don’t know, Foggy. I don’t want to pressure her, what if she doesn’t want to be anything more than friends? I–”

“Oh my God, Matt! Are you being serious?” He said in a mock tone, “You don’t want to pressure her? She has completely memorized the way you take your tea and somehow prepares it perfectly in the shitty dining hall microwave. She genuinely prefers spending every Saturday night holed up in our dorm or out at Josie’s or pretty much anywhere just to sit next to you. She literally looks at you with stars in her eyes.”

Chuckling, Matt did his best to play coy, “Well, I can’t know about that last part–”

“You know what I mean. You have to tell her, tonight.” Foggy insisted as he made his way out of the dorm room; he pointed his finger at Matt before he fully headed out, “God forbids you actually pursue something that might make you happy. I’ll be over at Marci’s, don’t wait up for me…”

So yeah, Matt knew what he had to do. “I think I’d like to object to that… if that’s okay with you.”

At your silence– aside from the way your heartbeat continued to pick up – he proceeded, “You don’t really think there isn’t a single soul who’d honestly care for you, do you?”

His hand slowly moved from where it rested atop his lap. His knuckles gently brushed your knee and grazed your hand, guiding themselves with the line of your arm all the way up until they reached your shoulder. A small smile grew on your face and quickly turned into laughter. “Matt, are you serious?”

“I’m sorry it took me this long to tell you.” In a second, he mirrored your laughter, nodding his head. He felt the warmth of your fingers cover his other hand. “Is it okay if I– can I kiss you?”

If you recalled correctly, no one had ever asked you that, in all of your lifetime. Surely, for you, this was a first of its kind.

As soon as you said yes, dexterous fingers slid around your waist, gently coaxing you towards him, before taking off his glasses. Your body didn’t resist complying, the warmth of Matt’s chest as inviting as the feeling of his heartbeat against yours, your legs at ease around his own. 

The stubble across his neck gently brushed against your fingers, a tingling sensation that almost sent shivers down your spine. This close, there was no escaping the soft smell of soap and cinnamon from his skin or the way his breath fanned across your face. Warmth grew inside your chest as you felt the soft brush of his lips on yours, almost melting together. It was slow and languid, much like honey trickling down your tongue. You were sure it could be just as sweet too, a kind of feeling you had never felt before. 

A feeling you guessed was reciprocated if the rumble that reverberated through Matt’s throat was anything to go by. He couldn’t tell why he had waited so long to do this; all of his excuses gone the second the softest skin of your mouth met his. As far as he knew, he could stay with you like this for hours. He didn’t want to pressure you– not even when your breathing got a little faster or when your lips parted oh-so-gently to let him seek out your taste– but this much he could do.

The only reason he found to pull back was to ask you, catching his breath and brushing his thumb over your lower lip, “Does this mean I can take you out tomorrow night? We can do this properly.”

You smiled to yourself, “Only if you kiss me like that again.”

If you're here, thank you so much for reading!!! Please please please let me know what you thought - all feedback is appreciated- and consider reblogging if possible (:

[brokebonewritings]

Bless Me, Father

Priest! Matt Murdock x afab! reader

Tags/Warnings: 18+, violence, smut, mention of religion, hurt/comfort

Summary: Seeking a priest for guidance. You just weren't expecting this priest to be an ex, and a vigilante.

Word Count: 4.2K

Navigation | Masterlist

A/N: This was written for a really dear friend of mine. I love them a lot, and I hope they love this story just as much! Pair this fic with A Question of Lust by Depeche Mode and Church by Chase Atlantic.

You walk into the church slowly as you think about what you would say. The cold bitter air pricks your nose, immediately warming as you step into the sanctuary. It’s been a long time since you have been here, though you feel comforted by the environment. Setting your bag and scarf on a pew, you walk towards the confessional booth and step inside quietly. You inhale and exhale before speaking to the priest on the other side.

“Bless me, father, for I have sinned.” You start. Hearing him shift in the booth next to you, you continue on. “It has been 3 months, and 15 days since my last confession.”

You continue to tell him about things you have done in the past few months. About things you feel are wrong, and how it makes you feel. How you felt shunned by your family for expressing your personal thoughts and interests. You begin to tear up as you finish speaking.

He sits for a moment before speaking. The air felt tight around you as you anticipated his voice.

“My child, there is no reason to weep.” His voice was soothing, much like a cup of hot chocolate. He continues. “What you are feeling about yourself is not wrong. You are on a journey of self discovery. Embrace it, and those who shun you will see the butterfly they mistook for a caterpillar. There is no penance for you today.”

You glance over at him, and catch a glimpse at the young priest. He looked stiff, as if he were a mannequin. You nod at his words and wipe the tears from your eyes. Stating the absolution, you thank him and step out of the booth. 

Lingering for a moment, you took in sight of the beautiful cathedral. Nothing felt more peaceful than the quietness of the church. A few nuns were staggered in the pews or kneeling at the altar. The smell of sweet incense flowed through the air.

Turning to look over your shoulder, you see the priest step out of the booth and turn his head in your direction. He smiles and makes his way towards you to walk you out.

“I haven’t seen you here in a long time, y/n” He starts, you can tell he was shifting uncomfortably.

“Yeah, it has been a while huh?” You avert your gaze to the wood flooring. “Not since our breakup” 

He winces at that comment. You didn’t have mal intent behind it. Just stating the fact. It had been a nasty one at that. He wanted to become a priest, and you wanted to have a family. Simple as that.

“Listen if you ever need to talk…” He sighs. “You know where you can find me.”

“Sure, sure. For godly insight I suppose?” You mutter. “Since when did Father Lantom step down?”

“About a month ago. I was appointed here personally.” Seeing the grip he held on his cane, you decided to take your leave. Not wanting to further the conversation before it got too awkward.

“I, uhm, have to head to work. Those court documents are not gonna write themselves, I guess.”

“Right. Well. Hopefully I will see you back again soon..” He said, giving a curt nod before you turn to leave. “And, God be with you, y/n”

“God be with you too, Father Murdock.”

“He WHAT?!”  Karen whispered in your shared office. She really was your closest friend so obviously you had to tell her.

“Right! So he was my ex from college which was so long ago, but god we were so in love.” You crossed your arms in defeat. “How could he look even better now?!”

“Oh no! You cannot go running back to that ‘used to be good’ feeling.” She stood and crossed to you. “Did you forget that, HE’S A FUCKING PRIEST.”

“I KNOW!” You huff. You were perfectly content without the knowledge of Matt actually achieving his dream. Sure it was extremely selfish of you to think, but he did break your heart. No wonder you hadn’t heard anyone talk about him, he basically fell off the face of the earth. Lost in thought, you hardly noticed when your boss approached your office.

“What’s up guys? What’s the hot gossip?”

You look up to see your boss, Foggy, leaning against the doorframe. Hardly a boss though, he liked to consider himself a friend to everyone in the office. 

“y/n wants to fuck a priest!” Karen casually said. You gasped loudly at her sudden statement, and stood up from your chair.

“I never said that!”

“Woah, didn’t see that one coming.” Foggy chuckled at the response. “Why a priest though?”

You roll your eyes as you lean against your desk. “It was a really long time ago okay? And he definitely wasn’t a priest then.”

Foggy cocks an eyebrow and looks at Karen. Who in return gives him a look.

“So what was he then?” Karen asks, looking back at you. You considered the question for a moment before sitting back down.

“Just a good catholic boy, I guess.” 

“You guess?” Foggy says suddenly.

“I mean, sure we had some fun.” You start quietly. “But we always found our way back to church on Sundays…”

“I thought you weren’t religious?” Karen asked curiously. You considered the question before answering.

“I’m not anymore. Not after how everyone made me feel after our breakup.” You turn back towards your desk to end the conversation. Foggy and Karen both shrugged at each other before going back to their own tasks.

Letting the tears fall silently from your eyes, you didn’t like when people watched you cry. Not that you liked to be emotional, but you didn’t want anyone to see you as weak.

The work day was long and strenuous. You worked quietly at your desk, only looking up to answer questions or find more paperwork.

Clients called and you helped to the best of your ability to answer questions, sending them to Foggy if you couldn’t. Until it was way past your time to head. You hadn’t realized it was dark outside. Turning around, you noticed Karen was also still working.

You gather your belongings and stand to leave. Giving Karen a quick hug, before heading out.

You walked quickly down the street after getting off the bus. Not that you were trying to act in fear, but you definitely knew that someone was following you down the street.

Hell's Kitchen was never the safest at night anyways. Working late was the worst, especially in cases that involved some sort of underground organization.

Turning down another block, you turn your head to see if the man is still following you. Of course he fucking was. What is the deal with men these days? Maybe you were overthinking it, and he just lived on the same street as you. Clearly you were too lost in your anxiety to not notice the second man coming from in front of you.

“Hey, pretty thing. Where are you rushing off too?” He says before grabbing your wrist. You gasp suddenly, trying to rip your hand from his grip.

“Please let go, I’m just trying to go home!” 

“Oh honey… Our boss would like to have a word with you.”

Without missing a beat, the man wraps his arm around your waist, and begins to pick you up. The kicking and punches you were throwing didn’t seem to phase him.  His other hand covered your mouth to muffle your screams.

That’s when you noticed a dark figure standing on top of the building nearest you. You prayed that it would help you. 

And just like that, your prayer was answered. Maybe. You watched as the figure jumped down into the alley way. Forgetting that for a moment, you continue to kick and flail your arms to deter the man. 

Of course there was a parking structure for these guys' convenience. You never understood how no one caught on to these things. While putting you into the car, you feel his body slamming against the door with force. Laying on the floor you scream as you see a man clad in a full white suit tower above you.

“Wait! Wait!” He puts his hands up in surrender “I’m a good guy I promise!”

Finally getting a full look at him, you realized you had never seen this hero before. Sure you’ve run into Spiderman multiple times, and even that Dr. Strange guy.

He stretches out his hand to help you up and you hesitantly take it. You narrow your eyes at him once you’re out of the car. The accent was not from around here. British. It was definitely British. “So who are you supposed to be?” You ask.

“Oh erm. Just call me Mr. Knight.” He starts and then continues with a bow. “It’s a little late to be walking around here, innit?”

You shrug and stand there awkwardly. Reaching for your satchel you finally realize it was missing. Turning back to the car you bend and reach around for it. Once you find it, you climb back out and turn to see that this “Mr. Knight” guy was gone and replaced with a scarier version of a mummy.

He sees the surprise on your face and the fear flash in your eyes. “Same guy. Don’t call me Mr. Knight though.”

The once crisp white suit had turned into a wrapped garment with a large crescent moon in the middle of his chest. It really did look like a superhero outfit.

“Stay right here. I need to get rid of these guys.”

You nodded and watched as both goons got back to their feet in a battle stance. The man in white pulled two crescent shaped blades from his chest, and waited for one of them to throw a punch. As they began their battle, you ran further back to avoid any debris flying around.

Turning your back against the violence, you didn’t want to see what was going to happen. Your eyes shut tight as you hear the gargled screams of your kidnappers. Once you determined it was all over you glance back up and see another figure standing in the dark parking structure.

Gasping loudly you trip over your own feet before falling backwards. You scramble back up and run over to the man who just saved you. He looked confused as to what you were frightened about. That was until he saw the figure. 

“If you know what’s good for you then you need to leave.” He said.

The figure in front of him growled. “I’m only here for her.”

Wait. You had seen this silhouette before. Sometimes as you walk down the street you would catch a glimpse of him. ‘The Devil of Hell's Kitchen’ they called him.

“It’s him.” You let out slowly. The man in white looked towards you, before you noticed the grip on his crescent weapons.

“Listen, guy, the lady is not interested in getting kidnapped tonight.” He said harshly. “You look like you don’t wanna die tonight either.”

“What makes you so sure you’re gonna kill me?” The figure taunted before taking a step forward. You look at this stranger with begging eyes. Hoping that you wouldn’t have to be in the middle of a hero battle. He sighed as he looked at you and then back at the devil.

“You asked for it pal.” He muttered before running towards the dark figure. Each fluid motion of his fists were dodged by the other man. You could tell that he was growing tired of the devil missing his punches.

He snarled loudly before yelling, “I’m tapping out!”

Suddenly the wraps disappeared and the white suit returned. The crescent shaped knives were replaced with a long bow staff. Breaking it in half, he readied himself for the devil’s next attack.

He was quickly met with a kick to his face and the sharp inhale really proved how hard the kick was. The next rounded kick was stopped by the chain attached to Mr. Knight’s staff. The devil flipped back as he untangled the chain from his ankle.

It was like lightning the way that Mr. Knight moved. He threw his hook up towards a pipe and went into a sprint. Swinging himself around so that he could end up on the other side of the other man. Failing as the devil grabbed hold of his forearm and slammed him on the ground.

The sound alone made your ears ring. You stayed behind the car door watching them fight. It was the only battle you have seen up close, and boy did it not fail to both excite you and make you feel fear.

Continuing with his motion, the devil begins to punch the hero into the cement. Over and over. Until finally there was a sudden stop of movement.

Mr. Knight held the devil’s fist, straining to keep it from making contact with his face once again. You noticed that the man in red looked up suddenly at you. His intense gaze made shivers go down your spine.

“Oi, wait a minute I know you!” Mr. Knight said suddenly. “Daredevil! It’s Us!”

‘Daredevil’ snapped his head back down to look at Mr. Knight and pulled his fist away.

“Steven?” His rough voice sent more shivers down your spine. The tone sounded vaguely familiar, like you had heard it somewhere before.

“Yeah mate!” 

The man in red stood up fully and held his hand out to help Steven up. You don’t understand fully how he didn’t recognize him, if you saw a suit that crisp you would have remembered immediately.

You stand surprised as the suit morphed back to the wrapped garment. It changed right in front of you, just like magic.

“Where’s your partner, Spector.” Daredevil asked. “You never go anywhere without them.”

He winced after the question. Something personal you supposed. “It’s the reason why I’m in America.” He leaves it at that.

Both men turn to look at you. You cower a bit not really knowing what they are about to do. The devil takes a step towards you, and you promptly take a step back. He holds up both his hands.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He states. “I thought you were in danger.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Yeah well, Sailor Moon beat you to it.”

“Hey!” The other hero said with offense in his voice.

You both turn to look at him. He hesitates a moment, most likely not going to say another word. How could you be meeting two heroes in one night? Well, not heroes, more like vigilantes it seemed like.

Clearing your throat, you looked around at the scene and wondered which lucky person would find that in the morning.

“This has been real fun, but I’d really like to go home and sleep.” You finally say. Daredevil and Mr. Knight both nod towards you as you start walking away.

“Let me walk you home.” A gruff voice says, turning to see Daredevil take a step towards you. It wasn’t a question, it was clearly a statement. “To make sure you get home safe.”

You shrug and walk towards the entrance of the parking structure. A voice calls from behind you both that makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Hey Murdock, if you see my partner, give me a call…” Moonknight said with a hint of sadness in voice. You glance up at the vigilante beside you. Murdock. Matthew Murdock. The only Murdock you knew.

He reaches a hand up to touch your shoulder. Not believing what you had just heard, you flinch away.  “Matt?” You managed to choke out.

“I’m sorry.” He says gently. “Let’s just get you home.”

“No.” Tears pricking your eyes. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”

“Fine.” He says before starting to walk again. You follow close behind him. Street after street you managed to keep up with him. Seeing the church come into view you realize that he was taking you to his own sanctuary.

Matt opens the side gate to the cemetery and steps aside so you could enter first. You step inside and head to the bench you both sat at when you were younger. He lingers a bit by the gate before entering and following you deep into the graveyard.

Once you both are inside, and he makes sure the coast is clear, he takes off his mask. Setting it down next to you, you stare at it. You cannot actually believe that you were saved by Daredevil. Well sort of.

And to make it all worse, Daredevil was your ex. Your knight in shining armor was someone who completely broke your heart. How poetic. You look up at him as he paces.

“You do realize how sacrilegious this is, right?” Your comment definitely breaks the ice. The smile that tugs on the corner of his mouth is only slightly comforting.

“This started way before the priest thing.” He stops pacing and sits next to you. “While we were together actually.”

“You’re joking.” Your mouth gapes open. He stays silent. “Oh god. You’re serious.”

He grabs the mask before speaking up. “ It’s partially the reason why we broke up.”

“What?” You his through your teeth. Was this guy serious right now? “What do you mean it's partially the reason why we broke up? You said you wanted to pursue a life of Christ, Matt.” 

“I did! Didn’t I?!” He raised his voice. “I did what had to be done to protect you, y/n!”

You stood from the bench and put your hands over your ears. Not wanting to hear another word from his mouth.

“Okay what are you doing?” He asked.

“I don’t want to listen to you anymore!” You shout. “I mean do you even know how ridiculous that sounds!”

“I did it for you, y/n! I did all of this for you!”

Then there was silence. Not even the wind howled through the trees in that moment. Letting everything sink in, you felt your heart pounding against your chest. You bring your arms down in a folded position and stare at the man in front of you.

“I really was in love with you, Matt.”

“I’m still in love with you.” He stood as he confessed. “I think about you. Morning, Noon and Night.”

Air that was trapped in your lungs was released all at once. Like you have not been breathing for a whole year. You felt insane to think that this wasn’t some convoluted nightmare.

He took a step towards you, and you let him. Feeling like this had all happened for some divine reason, you let him take your hand. His glove was rough against your skin. You never broke your eye contact off of his face. Studying how his jaw tensed and untensed, or how his eyes always followed the sound of your voice.

“Please Matty.” You sniffle. “You broke my heart once. I can’t take it a second time.”

“I promise you, there won’t be a second time.” He says before leaning down and kissing you gently. It takes a moment for your brain to process what was happening. Once you realize it was in fact a real kiss, you kiss him back. Arms snaking their way around his neck and his around your waist.

The kiss becomes more hunger filled. You can tell you both were touch starved by the way your hands began to roam. His body was pressed into yours, and you could feel yourself getting more turned on every second.

“Sweetheart.” He says. “You smell so fucking good.”

You moan lightly against his lips. Taking his bottom lip between your teeth, you tug on it lightly earning yourself a low groan. The way it vibrated between both your chests went straight to your core.

“Matty. I need you.” You pant as you pull from him slightly. He cups your face with his hand and nods.

“I need you too, sweetheart.”

Rushing through the front door of the church, you kiss the man in front of you with an intense passion. You can’t remember the last time you were touched by a man. Let alone kissed by one. 

The way he grabs your waist with his gloved hands was addicting. You feel every desire and you’re sure that he could smell your arousal. You begin pushing him towards a pew before he turns you around and stops the motion altogether.

“Wait.” Hearing his voice startled you. “We should move to somewhere more private.”

“Where? The only other place is your office, and I’m not about to be bent over a desk, Matt.”

He raises an eyebrow and looks in thought. Whatever was going through his head made your heart start to race. Taking your arm, he leads you towards the confessional booth pulling off his suit, and your own clothes in the process.

Once he is satisfied with how naked the both of you are, he climbs inside. You follow behind him and once he makes himself comfortable in the seat, you straddle his lap.

Leaving a trail of marks down his neck, you feel the heat of his hard cock against your stomach. Moaning from the sensation you readjust yourself and begin to slide him into you. You hear the way his breath catches as your tight cunt passes over his cock.

It’s silent in the church, the only sounds being made were the moans coming from you and the priest you had underneath you. You can’t help but wonder if this was the wrong thing to be doing. Despite those thoughts, you continue to lewdly whimper and sink yourself onto him.

“Oh Father Murdock, how fucking holy art thou” You smirk as you hungrily kiss him.

This makes him groan against you as he thrusts himself deeper inside you. Gasping loudly, you feel his cock in the pit of your stomach. How he managed to thrust that far into you was an act of God. You look down to watch his hips thrust up into you, and you push down onto his cock. It was absolutely breathtaking knowing that he was doing this to you.

“Y/N, you are going to be the absolute death of me.” He gapes, “You feel like absolute heaven.”

“I’m not going to last much longer, Matty” You clench around his length as you begin to bounce more sloppily.

You hear a slight growl creep up from the back of his throat before he grabs your thighs and flips you both over. This new angle had you at a curve, which made each thrust more earth shattering.

“You don’t get to come until I allow it.” His voice echoed through the small booth. Chills were sent up your spine. Looking up at this holy man through your lust filled eyes, you try to focus on every feature of his face. The way his jaw was tensed, and how his eyebrows furrowed.

The intensity of each thrust sent you into an overstimulated galaxy. Seeing stars was typically not what you experience in times like these. Then again, you both had not had sex in a long while.

His panting mixed together with the groans falling from his lips was drawing you to your edge. The little voice in your head kept repeating itself. ‘You don’t get to come until I allow it.’. Fuck did that have an affect on you.

Your moans began to sound more high pitched as the overstimulation hit you. He lowers his head to your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it harshly. The gasp you let out pleased him even more.

He continued to suck before moving his mouth to your neck, leaving small bruises here and there. You could feel his thrusts start to slow down as if he were getting tired. 

“Pl- please, I'm begging you.” You whimper pathetically. 

He smirks before whispering in your ear. “On the count of three. Okay, sweetheart?” 

You nod as you groan loudly.

“One.”

His thrusts begin to pick up, as he fucks you harder than before.

“Two.” 

Your cunt starts to clench around his cock as you try to hold on for that third number.

“Three.”

You both moan and pant as you come together. The pulse of his cock as it releases his hot seed into you feels good against your quivering pussy. Never before have you experienced an orgasm this good.

Breathing finally steadying out, you stare up at him. The sweat running down his forehead was very prominent. You noticed a smile beginning to make his way onto his face. You smile as well.

“What?” You ask quietly.

“I think this is the most sacrilegious thing I have ever done.” He says back in a whisper. 

“Oh and not the vigilante thing?”

He shakes his head before pressing his forehead to yours. “How bout you tell me about what has your heart racing at the moment?” He says instead.

“I just didn’t think I would ever be doing this.”

“How about you share your confession then?” He says while giving you another small thrust making you moan.

“Oh…” You ponder. “Then, bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

[prettyeyesnof4ce]

Browsing The Stacks

College!Matt Murdock x f!reader

Summary: Matt helps you focus on your studies at the library.

WC: 3.2k

Warnings/Tags: soft!dom!matt, public display of affection, thigh riding, porn w/o plot pretty much! (MDNI)

A/N: I wrote this during a college matt frenzy with @briefcasejuice it was just the perfect concept! I really like how this came out and I hope y’all enjoy it too.

Read on AO3 Masterlist

The purpose of the study nooks in the college library were exactly what they intended. For studying of course, yet the size of the library and amount of these spaces provided meant that there’d be room for extreme privacy. Lucky for you, you’d been let in on the most isolated corner desk, in which you were sitting right now. Despite being the furthest from any potential noise or people, it still didn’t satiate the rate at which your heart pattered in your chest.

 Maybe the upside of being so far away from any prying eyes was that you could cry. And it didn’t take any effort to resort to that considering how stressed you were because of this damn—

“y/n?” A voice rang from down the way.

 You were yanked from the sentence your blurred eyes were stuck on when his stern voice called your name. If you weren’t so lost in the never-ending passages of the textbook, you’d have heard his cane tapping along the floor and rearing around this particular aisle to find you. 

 Turning while still seated, the sight of him just feet away and ambling closer to you inherently warmed your heart. You wouldn’t know it though, but he knew. 

“Oh–” you gasped slightly. It was none other than Matt, now approaching more confidently because he recognized your voice as it finally spoke. 

The smile encroaching on his face grew wider due to, unbeknownst to you, hearing your heartbeat slow down. The warmth reciprocated to Matt, an exchange he was ever willing to accept silently.

 “I knew you were here” Matt lingered on an elated scoff, the grin unwavering while he made his arrival to the back of your chair, stationing his cane to his front. Your head dipped back and your eyes shut involuntarily, almost grazing his hand placement on your shoulder. A silent but telling “Hi, Matt” would suffice as a greeting, cut short by the smile of relief you couldn’t hold back from being in his presence again. It was always a delight seeing him, with this semester’s schedule change, it was more difficult to bump into him at any given time. He was a sight for sore eyes as well, his brown ginger-ish locks and bright smile never faltered being a comfort.

 The manner in which your throat hitched on the greeting told Matt everything he needed. That the number of books sprawled out, taking up pretty much all of the surface of the table, and the half-drunk coffee long abandoned to the side were signs of stress. Stress that you obviously weren’t taking care of. You were his afternoon mission, no doubt. 

“Why the long face?” He spoke. You mused his words, letting them permeate in your ears due to his obviously soothing baritone, before instigating.

 “What long face?” you squeaked.

 “Uh—just, you only come here when you really wanna be—alone, so I’m guessing you’re studying really hard which leads to—“ he paused, catching himself before the speed of his voice gave an inkling of suspicion. 

Matt needed to choose his words more carefully, lest he wanted you to seriously question how he just knew things. But at this moment, in your mind's eye, Matt was nothing more than a considerate and observant partner. And observant he was, cause the tears welling up earlier were nothing short of opaque now, the salt now disappearing and being replaced with something else. It was brewing and becoming more apparent to him the longer he spoke with that silky baritone. 

“Stress, yeah, is it that obvious?” You spoke while turning your body so your legs were on the outside of the chair. The way your own voice let the ‘S’ roll off before pronouncing the word entirely already painted itself to a wall in his mind, having piqued his interest. He wanted to banish the entire feeling for you. 

Matt could tell by the way you squeezed your legs shut that your mind was already wandering during this seemingly mundane conversation. 

“No, no, it’s just—“ He started.

 “I’m kidding, it is obvious” you breathed a sigh that was partially intentional. Somehow you started to feel embarrassed that he called out your inability to give yourself a break, that if he hadn’t found you when he did you’d be a sobbing mess right now. Your hero.

 “Not that that’s necessarily terrible, it shows you care about your work” Matt rubbed the still laid hand on your shoulder in a way to soothe you. You breathed a smile, finally building the strength to bring your right hand up to it and placing it on the back of his hand to show you were grateful for it. 

“Maybe I don’t care enough, can’t focus today” You admitted defeatedly, turning to gawk at your workspace. 

Matt’s smirk somehow intensified, you didn’t know it but your words were amalgamating a plan to get you focused again, a plan that he knew you couldn’t refuse. He bit back a chuckle before coming to the surface with his interrogation.

 “Oh, you do care, I’m sure, you just need to take a load off for a second.” He mumbled, his hand switching from your shoulder to your chin in one movement, tilting your head upward. The mannerism was simple but it threatened to double the warmth growing in your center. Matt cleared his throat slightly. 

You gulped hard, studying the way his smile faded, letting him take the mic again. Suddenly this interaction was becoming less casual and more intentional, you thought. 

 “I wanna help you, in any way that I can” It was soft and quiet, but it hit harder than if he asked the classic ‘are you ok?’. Somehow it was easier to melt into that statement, and that you definitely did. The burning returned to your eyes for a moment while you stood suddenly from the chair, and his arms were extended ready to catch you in them. Now in Matt’s embrace, you felt like you could breathe a little, the pressure of his hands digging into your back giving you some reprieve. Your body decompressing against him was telling, it told him you trusted him, allowed yourself to be vulnerable with him despite the setting. 

How could he have this much of an effect on you, that you were still mindful of how you were really feeling, and how it coupled with the lewd feelings being around him brought out in you. It was a weird mixture of emotional intelligence yet with hints of arousal. It was a strange effect but you always welcomed it. Being with him just felt safe and intimate.

His scent burrowed effortlessly in your nostrils,  irresistible and you felt you could stay like this forever. 

“Thank you, Matt” you pulled away, breaking the silence after what seemed like a minute, your face close to his and your arms now resting atop his forearms. The grip Matt patented on your waist was unrelenting, your bodies still flush together. He contemplated just leaving it at this, but the heat signature you were giving off was not going away. In fact, it tripled, seeing as your hands stroked over the muscles under his sweatshirt and the way you studied his expression meant your mind was definitely elsewhere. 

“We’re not finished” He spoke suddenly, almost abruptly and out of turn with his thoughts. Matt didn’t want to be careful, he was trying to figure out the fastest way to give you the release you desperately needed. That he knew you needed and didn’t give to yourself in those private moments.

You whispered an ‘oh’ letting him know he had your full undivided attention. The silence hung in the air for a moment before he poked the bubble.

“Let's sit, let me hold you” He spoke, turning your body to the right slightly so he could take the seat. 

‘Oh god’ you thought, there was no way this was happening. Your arousal was catching up to you, for this predicament was laying the trap you knew he was plotting the second you noticed he was smirking in that specific way he did. His voice was stern and confident, which only made matters worse and made your mind blur deeper with filthy undertones. Who were you to not accept his thoughtful care, and most definitely the chance to admire below while he held you in his strong arms.

With one motion, you were sitting respectfully on his legs, his hands still remaining glued to your waist and your hands interlocked behind his head. Once comfortable, Matt began rubbing circles on your back, slowly and just enough to let you revel in the sensation.  He was so close yet so far, his breath was faint on your neck but it felt strangling. You were going crazy, it was confining but somehow not enough to where it was satisfying.

 Matt could tell you were struggling to keep your distance, your shallow breaths and beating core being a total indicator of your restraint. He was amused by your behavior, adorable that you weren’t 100% sure he was on the same page, but he definitely was, you were just too shy to admit you wanted him. Wanted him in any self-respecting way you could have him in such a public space. Yes, you were isolated and it wasn’t busy when you first came in here, but you weren’t careless enough to be okay with the risk. 

His head tilted to the right and his eyebrows furrowed, almost disappearing under his black frames, stopping his hand motions for a second. 

 “You’re tense again.” It was a statement, not a question. 

 “Yeah, so?” It came out more defensive than you’d liked. Fuck, it was futile to try and escape his prying. Especially when he looked the way he did effortlessly, his demeanor soft but dominating. Again, you often wondered how he just knew exactly what was going on. 

 “Tell me what you need–it’s ok.” He coaxed, making a note to flash a smile to encourage your words to flow easier. And it did, intensifying your exhilaration and excitement. It gave you half-confidence that his thoughts were aligning with yours. 

 ”Matt–I can’t–you don’t have to–” Stuttering a bit, you answered. Your anxieties were very much in control, not to mention acting so intimate in a place like this, this was already too much. It felt shameful to use him for what you thought were selfish purposes, but Matt saw it as an opportunity to help when you so very needed it. 

Your cheeks felt heated as his hand came up to your jaw again, his remaining grip now stroking at your thigh. 

 “I want to help…in any way that I can–please?” Matt whispered, reinstating what he’d said earlier more sternly, bringing your face impossibly closer, his breath tickling your lips.There was an earnest need in his tone, the way he uttered that ‘please’ stroked the already raging fire in your belly. If his soft salmon colored lips weren’t enough to do it. 

You huffed a sigh, worry scribbled on your face. 

“here though? It’s–mmh” Matt captured your lips once his hand met the back of your head, angling his face to shut you up with a kiss. It was open mouthed but neat, you shut your eyes at once, the grip around his shoulders becoming more stable as you shifted on his lap a little, making him grunt into the kiss. You gave Matt absolutely no choice, if you didn’t want to admit you needed a break, he had to do it for you. 

With his feet firmly planted on the floor, he skidded the chair backward to signal you the chance to straddle him, and you seized it with little to no grace. During the unbroken kiss, it took a second to switch your footing and open your legs to properly sit on him, grunting while you attempted to steady yourself. 

Once he realized you were about to sit on his crotch, he grabbed either of your hips with force, removing himself from your lips. 

 “Ah-ah, this is only about you” He huffed, and you scanned his face. 

You were taken aback by his quick-wit, almost perplexed that he’d refuse the contact. It made you second guess your ability to read the writing on the wall. Or maybe you were just too selfless, wanting him to experience the ordeal with you. 

You held back a whine, annoyed that he still wanted to single you out, and he was annoyed you weren’t letting him make you feel special. Matt wanted to make sure you knew this was just about you.

 “Just–”  *kiss* “--trust me, okay?” *kiss* 

He left open mouthed pecks to your neck, whimpers of impatience leaving your lips in the process, your forearms staying firm around his shoulders. You sighed before giving any semblance of a response. 

“Ok” you took the slight rejection and reshaped it into submission.

Matt flashed a wicked smile against your skin. “Good girl, now sit.”

He patted at his right knee, and you didn’t need to look back at it, for the sound of him welcoming you to it rang like the dinner bell. And you were absolutely famished. 

You swept your right leg over, it now between his legs, as your aching crotch finally found purchase on the upper part of his knee. It was a satisfying feat, Matt hearing your muscles relax while you found the rightful place he’d wanted to get you in minutes back when he arrived. Your forehead was pressed to his, almost looking for permission to begin. Matt was eager to see you spread your wings. 

“Go ahead, use me” He breathed, hands grasping your hips, one thumb stroking reassuringly on your thigh. Your angling was perfect and pressure was already present on your clit despite not moving yet. 

Bracing yourself with a peck that quickly turned into a full kiss, you started grinding back and forth reluctantly, knees buckling at the blunt pleasure. Shockwaves ran through your legs that threatened your balance once you got to a steady pace, but Matt thought it wasn’t steady enough. Afterall, he knew just how desperate you were, he still had to step in to let you know it was okay to take what you wanted and fast.

 He forcibly pulled away from the deep kisses that you were obviously using as a distraction to encourage you further.

 “Harder–it’s ok, sweetheart” He spoke clearly but softly, applying some force to his grasp now, pulling and pushing with your shy thrusts. You bit back a whimper at the now faster grind, grip on his shoulders now tighter. His names for you created a blaze in your chest, a feeling of pride that you were his pet, you were his image of affection.

 Your chest heaved quickly, walls starting to flutter and you moaned quietly, earning a smile from Matt. “Yes, like that” Matt’s praise coupled with the friction the fabric between you provided was pulling your orgasm closer and closer. It was delicious and fuck maybe it had been a while since you’ve came considering how easy it all was. But he could tell you were duly reminded that you were in a public space again once your pattern of noises took shape. He didn’t want to let that stop you.

 “Kiss me” He craned his neck forward, mouth slack a little to welcome you back to his mouth, and you gladly got lost in his persuasion yet again. The rhythm was unfaltering due to Matt’s help, making sure every pass on his knee hit your swollen clit with precise angling. The cave of his mouth helped silence your growing whimpers, his tongue accompanying yours perfectly. The patch of wetness inevitably passed the threshold of your underwear, Matt bit his lip as he felt the warmth sliding across his leg, cock twitching as he studied your blissful state.

 He took a second to take note of your chemistry, mouth parted in open mouthed kisses again as he discreetly tasted your essence filling the air. It permeated in his sinuses, something he’d smelt before of course, but this time it was sweeter and much more impervious.Your thrusts on the rough surface of his jeans were getting needier, huffing and whining into his mouth, and he felt it was time to escort you down the sinful valley of his words.

 “You gonna cum f’me, angel?” He began, letting go of your hips and holding your back once again. 

You were in flight all on your own, pelvis rutting wildly and back arching ever so often. Getting lost in the pleasure, it was hard to control your grunts, trying your best with the way your knees ached as your climax approached. You’d be damned if your anxieties stopped you from letting Matt give you what you needed. His sweet beckoning voice and rock solid body wouldn’t allow it.

 “C’mon, I know you can, that’s it” His voice was low but sure of its power, feeling you flutter more aggressively, guiding you closer and closer. 

 “...so perfect and needy all f’me, yeah?” Matt held you close, preparing for your final cry. 

Somehow him taunting you for your neediness was what did it for you. It was not embarrassing anymore, you were happy to admit you needed this, cause the pressure at your core and pleasure searing through your belly was a gorgeous trophy to take for being submissive to him. Matt was gonna be there for you, no matter the time or place. 

You fell quickly, your cunt pathetically pulsing around nothing yet everything, your legs twitching as you held tight onto Matt’s embrace. He shushed you by pushing your head into his neck, gasping into his ear at first before it turned into grunts of bliss, even a whimper of his name. 

Somewhere inside you during it all, you prayed the study nook was far enough away and that the crevice of Matt’s neck was enough to muffle it all. Your hips continued to squirm on the hard surface and it quickly turned to overstimulation, but you didn’t care cause you wanted this moment to last. It was an example of how Matt was able to make you feel like you were the only two people alive.

 Eventually your head stopped spinning, body stagnant, and Matt was at your neck again, sucking softly at the heated skin. He was so proud, proud of your admittance and willingness to accept his help. 

“See? You did so good” He chuckled silently, he felt very exhilarated to have rode this out with you, he was impossibly stiff but he could take care of it later, right now his job was to be prideful.

 “Oh god, Matthew–” reality set in and you were half-chuckling in disbelief because of what just fucking happened. Your face felt hot and your clothes felt sticky. He quickly shushed you, kissing you again.

 “It's okay–focus on what’s important, that you feel better, right?” Matt grinned, hand rubbing your back in the same motion as before. It took a second before you felt you could revel in the success of this risky endeavor. 

 “I guess so” A shy smile would suffice and you crooned into his neck again, breath steadying. His job here was done, and the way your heart synced with his as he held you in his lap was enough to satisfy the ache he felt of his own. You were glad to have allowed his help, and thank god for his persistence, otherwise this afternoon would’ve gone very differently.

~

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! feedback, likes and rbs are optional yet appreciated.

taglist and who might be interested: @briefcasejuice @saintmurd0ck @murdocksluvrr @missbeewrites @mindidjarin @stress--relief @netflixmatt

(I do not give permission for this or any of my work to be posted elsewhere without my consent)

prettyeyesnof4ce © 2022

[skylarmoon71]

Matt Murdock (Daredevil) - Oneshot

Longer Post: 4K+ Words. Enjoy!

Coming to Hell’s Kitchen was your new start. 

After spending the entirety of your high school and college life being a hero, you decided that your adult life needed to be more stable. New York was the place for change.

You were starting your new position as detective at the north precinct and you were ready to tackle cases with your expertise on the more subtle side of the law. 

Stepping into the precinct, you were greeted by the captain and introduced to a few of the officers as well as other detectives. It seemed like a good enough place. Considering the state of this city, you knew you had your work cut out for you. 

“This is Kevin Debbler. I’ll let you two get acquainted. He’ll be your temporary partner until Tony gets back from leave.” You nod at your captain, greeting Kevin. 

“Play nice kids.” he patted your arm, stepping away and you just sent a smile. 

“The captain seems like a solid guy.” 

You were aware of how deep the corruption got, so the fact that your evaluation of the man in charge didn’t give away any type of malice had you more at ease. Just from his gait you could tell he was someone to be trusted. Your eyes shifted back to Kevin. 

“I heard you closed every case you ever worked on.” 

You nod. 

“I guess my closure rates aren’t too bad.” 

He smiled at that, but there was something behind it. You didn’t give anything away, just studied his body language. When he pulled out an envelope from his suit jacket, you raised a brow. He held it out. 

“This is for you. Read it carefully. They’ll be expecting you tonight. I think it would be best if you kept this to yourself.” 

You took it, aware of the way he was now whispering and acting like some common drug dealer. 

“See you tonight.” 

Nothing else was said, he just walked away. Your eyes directed at the enclosed letter.

Skeptical. 

For the rest of the day you got settled in. At some point you had gotten around to reading the letter. It was some kind of formal invitation. Sender unknown. You did however notice the address printed below. It was a law firm. An established one at that. 

Whatever this was, it couldn’t have been good. That’s why the moment you got off you decided that you needed to know exactly what was going on. Stepping out of the cab, you stared at the skyscraper. Letter in hand, you walked right through the front door. The receptionist lifted her head upon your entry. 

“Good day, I’m here for-” 

“You’ll be heading right down the hall, first door on the right.” 

Her immediate response was unnerving. She was still wearing a smile. 

“Thank you.” 

She nodded. 

“Enjoy your meeting Ms. Maximoff.” 

The fact that she already knew your face and name didn’t breathe confidence. You eyed her until you were out of her view. As instructed, there was a door.

You opened it and as you stepped in, you noticed Kevin standing next to a man with a pair of glasses and another. From his presentation, it’s clear he was the one in charge. 

Tall, bald, and something about his aura just felt malicious. 

Tainted. 

You closed the door behind you, stepping in fully. 

“We’re glad that you could make it Ms. Maximoff. Please, have something to eat.” Glasses spoke. 

There was an entire buffet set up on the tables behind them. 

“No thanks, I already had dinner.” 

Kevin’s jaw clenched. You could tell he was displeased, but the bigger man in the back was wearing a smile. 

“Let’s get right to it then. My name is Wilson Fisk. I see no reason for pretenses. Your skills are remarkable. I’d like to have someone of your intelligence be a part of my empire.” 

“Is that why we’re meeting here?” 

They’d obviously not given you enough credit. It’s clear that they’d done their research. Being a detective himself, Kevin no doubt has access to your files. 

“You underestimate me, I guess that’s why this room has three exits and your receptionist was careful to turn off all the cameras in this building. There were also two vans outside. A contingency plan I’m assuming. “ 

Kevin looks impressed but Fisk just laughs. 

“You see Wesley, innovative, observant, headstrong. She’s outstanding.” Fisk’s praise meant nothing to you. 

Wesley stepped forward, eyes displaying an ease that came with the type of control you have when you know that you’re connected. 

Powerful.

Untouchable. 

Kevin moved at his side almost like a bodyguard, or a lackey. You’re not even surprised. 

“What we’re offering you is a chance to use those skills to obtain power you can only dream of. Your contribution to Mr. Fisk’s cause will no doubt be beneficial to every party involved.” 

“What exactly would I be doing as a part of this contribution?” 

Wesley adjusts his glasses. 

“Whenever Mr. Fisk requests your services, you will make yourself available in every manner of speaking. There are some people you’ll need to talk to, encourage so that they see things from a more reasonable point of view.” 

“So basically you want me to carry out bribes, intimidate common civilians and look the other way when you’re committing terrible acts.” 

Fisk just smiles. 

“Essentially, yes.” 

You know the only reason they would be this transparent is because they assume there is no way you would even think of turning down this offer. They have this place cased, they definitely know your address and your desk has probably already been bugged. 

Now that you have a general idea of what exactly is going on, you smile. 

Holding out the letter, you rip it in half, dropping it on the floor. A frown sets on Wesley’s face. 

“Sorry, but this just isn’t my kind of crowd.” 

Kevin looks furious. 

“You bitch!!” 

He charges at you, and you dodge the punch he throws, delivering one of your own. Wesley steps back and Fisk just watches as Kevin’s body hits the ground. He’s groaning on the ground, hand pressed to his now bleeding nose. 

“S-She broke my nose!!” 

His yell doesn’t gain much of a reaction. Both doors at the back open and a group of men begin to file in. About a dozen of them. Wesley casually picks up the torn piece of paper. 

“We really hoped you would be more cooperative. No matter, a few broken bones should be enough persuasion.” 

Wesley makes a hand gesture and they all run in your direction. You flick your wrist and they stare at the red tendrils that trail from your palm. Your irises ignite in a ruby glow and Wesley looks startled. So does Fisk. All twelve bodies hit the wall, now held up by similar red streams of light. When the light seeps into their skin, there is a flicker in their eyes, right before every body present drops. 

Unconscious. 

You smile and Kevin just gapes. 

Now they seem uneasy. 

“I’d be careful not to fuck with me boys. When I said I wasn’t joining, it wasn’t a request. If any of you so much as breathe in my direction again, you’ll wish that you were experiencing the nightmares those men are now.” 

Their eyes trail to the fallen bodies, watching the way they all seem to be frowning or thrashing about. 

“Have a good night.” 

Your whisper is followed by a rush of red light that encompasses the whole room. Wesley, Fisk and Kevin drop to their knees, eyes wide with fear. You can’t imagine what individual nightmares they are having, but you hope it’s as painful as possible. Stepping out the door, you roll your neck, marching right past the receptionist who appears shocked. 

“E-Excuse me Miss!” 

“Go to sleep.” 

Your instruction makes her body freeze in place. The red light travels right beneath her eyes and she falls to the floor. 

“Damn it.”

You hate the fact that your quiet life has been disturbed. It hadn’t even lasted a full day and this whole hero thing was surfacing again. As you leave the firm, you go through what your next steps are. 

When you get in the following morning, you’re not surprised to find out that Kevin has transferred. 

That spineless coward. 

No matter, your only goal is to close as many cases as possible and avoid all things vigilante or otherwise. You’re careful to stay updated on the stream of corruption throughout law enforcement. That night you’d taken your own precautions because you had a feeling you would be walking into an unsavory situation. 

Sometimes you hate to be right. 

For the next few weeks you hear a lot about this devil of hell’s kitchen. 

After word about the Russian mob, it doesn’t take a genius to see he’s trying to dismember the major organizations responsible for the rise in crime. You would commend his work ethic if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve been in his shoes. 

Putting the lives of others before yourself for the greater good. With your abilities it felt necessary. You’d done a lot of bad in the world for the sake of some ideal of peace, or maybe it was just vengeance.

That’s why you joined the team, but when you lost your brother it just became very clear that your dues were paid. You did your part and it cost you everything. You have no intention of reliving that. This time you’re attacking as a cop, not some hero. 

At least that’s the plan. 

As you’re heading home that night, it’s clear that you’re not the only one good at investigating. 

“(Y/N) Maximoff.” 

You stop in place at the voice. Taking this short cut would be foolish to anyone else, but you’re not exactly afraid of the dark, or criminals. Standing on the empty street behind the building, you turn. A figure steps out.  

It's him. 

“Daredevil.” 

He straightened. 

“That’s what they call me.” 

You sigh. 

“What does the devil of hell’s kitchen want with an innocently helpless detective like me?” 

He tilts his head. 

“From what I heard there’s nothing helpless about you.” 

“I guess it depends on who you speak to.”

“How about Wilson Fisk.” 

Of course. If he’s taking down criminals, there’s no way he would bypass a crime boss like Wilson Fisk. However, it’s unlikely he’s actually spoken to him face to face. Not yet, especially not like that. 

“Someone like Fisk would sooner put you in the ground than let you walk out of his grasp. Especially with the damage you’ve done. So I’m guessing you probably just bashed a few henchmen.”

“Doesn’t seem like the information was bad. Standing here now you should be terrified. Yet your heart rate hasn’t increased, not even a little. You’re calm, collected. For a woman being questioned in a dark alley by a guy who punches people, you don’t seem very worried.” 

“Should I be?” 

“Not unless you’re hiding something.” 

At the moment, it probably wouldn’t matter. 

“Those men, when they spoke about you all I could hear was terror in their voices. They’re afraid of you.” 

You grin. 

“Gosh, you really know how to flatter a girl don’t you.” 

From his shift in position, you can tell he’s not amused. 

“You’re not working with them, so you must want to take them down.” 

You can already tell where this conversation is going. 

“I’m not getting involved.” 

“Innocent people could die.” 

“That’s not my problem, horns. Find someone else.” 

You turn and he rushes forward, grabbing your hand. You just halt, but don’t turn around. 

“You have to help.” 

“I don’t have to do anything. But you..” 

Turning your head, you glare. 

“You have five seconds to release me otherwise you’ll know why they were so afraid.” 

“You can’t just-” 

“Five.” 

He flinches when his body rises on its own, smacking into the wall. You can hear his struggles, but he won’t budge. You let out another sigh, massaging your wrist. 

“This isn’t my war, horns. I’m sorry but I can’t help you, not on this side of things.”

He listens to your steps right before they seem to just vanish from the ground. Once his body drops, he looks up. He could be mistaken, but it almost sounds like you’re..flying. 

That encounter made it obvious that this little battle in hell’s kitchen would go on for a while. You needed to start bringing in the calvary. 

At least the legal one. 

That’s what your visit to Nelson and Murdock was for. 

“Matt, Foggy, we have someone here to see you.” 

Karen gestures you inside and you smiled at her, taking a seat when you got to the desk. Foggy was wearing a bright smile and Matt sat, waiting patiently for you to speak. 

“How can we help you?” 

You placed the folder in your hand on the table and Foggy just raised a brow. 

“My name is Detective (Y/N) Maximoff. I’m here to help you take down Wilson Fisk.” 

Everyone in the room became tense at the statement. 

You just opened the folder and Foggy stared at the bank statements, marked conversations and the flash drive you have before him. 

“I’ve been gathering information for the last few weeks. A month ago I was approached, they tried to recruit me to be a part of their little crime syndicate. I figured it was a trap the second I got the letter so I was prepared. I have recordings, profiles and meetings from each case that I’ve solved that had some connection to Fisk. I think with the right approach this should help with your investigation.” 

Foggy now looked weary because they hadn’t really breathed a word of their current case to anyone. 

“How do we know we can trust you, trust this? How did you even find out about us working on this case?” 

Karen seemed just as unnerved. 

“You cleared Karen Paige’s name. She saw something she wasn’t supposed to. They sent someone to kill her but the vigilante saved her. Ever since then you all have been handling small cases leading up to corruption. Am I wrong?” 

They couldn’t deny it. 

“Last night I was approached by him. That vigilante. He tried to recruit me because he’s doing the same thing. But he’s trying to do it all by himself by punching the shit out of people. Senseless violence won’t keep someone like Fisk off the streets. You need evidence, something tangible that the court can see. This is how you’ll stop a Kingpin.” 

Karen steps over, intrigued. 

“You said he confronted you, tried to recruit you. Why?”

“Let’s just say I have a certain set of skills that a lot of people would like to get their hands on.”

“That’s awfully cryptic.” Foggy mutters sarcastically. 

“Whether you believe me or not, the evidence doesn’t lie. Look through it, then make your decision.” 

They still seem hesitant, not that you blame them. Standing, you slide the chair out. 

“Wait.” 

Matt’s words have you turning.

“Why do this? You’re a cop, couldn’t you just take it up the chain of command? Why ask us?” 

You smile. 

“Because I trust all of you. I heard what happened with Elena Cardenas.” You swallow, because you recognize the change on their faces at the mention. 

They’d represented her. 

“I met her once. She was a good person. She didn’t deserve to die. The people who are doing this, they aren’t going to stop, not unless someone does something. I..I can’t get involved to that degree, so this, this is the least I can offer. Please stop Wilson Fisk.” 

Your voice is a bit of a plea. You don’t care that you’re begging, you need them to understand the importance of the situation. 

Foggy rises, and so does Matt.

“We’ll do our best.” They respond in unison. 

You smile, because you realize that you can leave it in their hands. 

The next few weeks you keep an ear out. There’s been chatter of cops getting killed. It’s getting messy. Maybe that’s why you aren’t surprised when you see the lawyer sitting on the staircase in front of your apartment. 

“Mr. Murdock, aren’t you out past your bedtime?” 

He smiles. 

“I was hoping I wasn’t the only one. Can we talk?” 

You nod, and he stands. On instinct you reach for his arm. When you grasp his bicep you pause. 

“Damn Murdock, you packing?” 

His eyebrows lift, and then he laughs. 

“What if I was?” 

Well, he’s pretty smooth. 

“Don’t think you can seduce me just because you’re blind. I’m all about equality. I’ll drop kick you if you try anything, disabled or not.” 

“I appreciate the heads up.” 

You both head inside. Once he’s seated, you offer him a drink, but he shakes his head. You make yourself comfortable. 

“So how can I help you?” 

“I know this might be asking a lot, but I was hoping you could keep me in the loop about any changes within your department. We’re getting close.” 

So that’s what he wanted. 

“Sure, I’ll keep an eye out. I’m guessing you guys have vetted the information I gave.” 

“We have. Foggy was impressed. We made copies, just in case there’s another break in.” 

You straighten. 

“Someone broke in, are you guys alright?” 

He nods. 

“We’re fine. It happened while we were gone. Whatever they were looking for they didn’t find it. Karen’s a bit paranoid and I don’t blame her. It really came in handy. They busted our printer but it was close to death anyway so I think we’ll survive.” 

You smile, leaning back. From your visit it’s clear that they deal with a lot of pro bono cases. They’re not making as much as most law firms, but they’re still putting in the work. 

“I’ll get you guys a new printer.” 

“You really don’t have too.” 

“It’s not a problem. Think of it as a gift since I’m on the sidelines.” 

He smiles. 

“I appreciate it, thank you.” 

You just nod, and when he tilts his head, you can feel another question coming. 

“Before, you mentioned not being able to help from that side. What did you mean?” 

You should have expected it. He’s a lawyer, naturally curious, inquisitive. You can just lie, it’s not like he’ll know the difference. But, somehow maybe if you’re honest it’ll take the burden off. 

“A few years ago I was part of a team. They were sort of like that vigilante. Each of us had certain skills that made it easier for us to help. For most of my life I did some terrible things because I thought it was in the name of justice.” 

The memories of working with Hydra was not something you could escape. 

“My brother and I switched sides when we realized the people we were working for only wanted death, destruction. They weren’t trying to bring the peace they promised. I didn’t want to hurt innocent people so we fought. We fought for the good guys but in the end my twin brother died.” 

There will never be a time where it’s not painful to think about. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You brush your hand under your cheek. 

“It’s fine.” 

It’s been years, but you never forgot. 

“This probably might sound crazy, but I’m strong, and I’m not talking feminist protest type of strong either. I’m dangerous. That’s why it's important that I help from this side.

Whatever that Daredevil has planned, I can’t be a part of it. You, Foggy, Karen, you all have to bring Fisk down the right way. It’s the only thing that will stop him. He needs to know that he’s not untouchable, that people out there can actually hurt him because if you don’t..” 

You pause, closing your eyes when you feel the familiar burn of your power trying to push through. You need to get a grip, losing control right now is not ideal.

With a steady exhale, you open your eyes. 

“I know it’s unfair, but I need a guarantee that what I’m doing to help you won’t be in vain.” 

“It won’t.” 

You nod, relaxing against the couch. 

“That’s all I need to know.” 

You can rest easily. 

“So, you’re a feminist.” 

You roll your eyes at his cheeky smile. 

“Don’t make me go to prison for attacking a blind guy.” 

Matt just laughs. 

It was nice, even though he was basically a stranger you were reassured because since that day it seemed like they’d gone all in. 

You almost didn’t believe it when you heard that Wilson Fisk was apprehended and arrested. You were wrapping up a case when the news broke out.

Apparently Fisk wasn’t the only one they took down. They’d cracked down on everyone involved. Politicians he paid off. People he bribed. Law enforcement he endorsed. The Feds had raided and broken down just about every angle. 

You felt content. 

Now you wouldn’t have to worry as much when you left for your assignment in Washington. You could head off with a clear conscience. 

Wrapping up for the day, you slipped your hands into your pocket as you intended to venture home. The clicking sound coming up the street caught your eye. You turned. To your surprise it was none other than a certain honorable lawyer. 

“Mr. Murdock, what brings you to my side of town? I thought you would be celebrating your most recent victory.” 

He smiled. 

“I was actually hoping to share the victory. A lot of the information you provided played a part in taking him down. We’re grateful.” 

“Well I’m glad. I was just about to head home and pop myself a bottle of wine.” 

“Care for some company?” 

You grin. 

“Are you trying to seduce me again Mr. Murdock?” 

He just laughed. 

“I don’t think it would be that easy.” You nod, walking closer to offer your hand. Once you're within reach, he takes it and you smile. 

“I’d love the company Matt.” 

He looked happy at the statement. 

That’s how you both ended up back at your place, practically wasted. 

Matt was telling you about some of his memories with Foggy and you were laughing at each crazy and entertaining story. You had to admit that you were a bit envious.

You hadn’t been close to anyone since you lost your brother. You forgot what it felt like to have friends, people to depend on. Riding solo has become your life after you quit your team of superheroes. Burning your red suit was what had made it absolute. 

You had no intention of going back. 

It seems like you made the right call, because now your life consists of getting drunk with an esteemed lawyer. 

You hiccup, and Matt straightened the best he could given the amount of alcohol he’d ingested. 

“I lost my dad. Since then it’s just been me.” 

He was telling you of his past, maybe because you’d previously shared your own. Turns out you have a lot more in common than you thought. You couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh. 

“Guess we’re just a bunch of orphans then huh.” 

He nodded. 

Had you both not been absolutely inebriated, maybe you would have worked up the strength to cry. Instead you’re laughing, clicking your glasses together, downing another drink. The burn made you hiss slightly and you clumsily placed the glass down. Matt was laughing when he heard how hard the cup connected with the table. You pointed at, giggling and hiccuping. 

“D-Don’t laugh at..*hic*..Me!” 

With slurred words, you slightly swayed. Matt just continued to smile as you fought to put words together. He tried to stand, but he barely made it off the couch before he fell back. He was now slightly leaning on you and this time you were the one laughing. 

“I-I knew you were trying to..seduce me!” 

His glasses had fallen off his face and he shook his head, still smiling drunkenly. 

“I’m not..promise.” 

He made a cross over his chest and you just kept giggling, placing your head on his chest. 

There was no doubt that you would have a blasting headache tomorrow. Matt finally got himself a bit more upright, his hand running down your arm. Your laughs had somewhat settled, now you both were just sitting there in a comfortable drunk silence. 

“When are you leaving?”

It was a bit of a whisper. 

You lifted your head the best you could. 

“Next week…big case..need my help..” 

Your words were spotty, he expected it. He still wore a smile, now tracing patterns on your skin. Earlier you had given a much more detailed explanation of why you were heading to D.C. A rampant serial killer and some very well connected criminals. You would be gone for a while. He realized that any chance he had to get closer wouldn’t be possible. 

He might have missed his window. Because there was a chance you would become caught up in the work there and decide to stay. He shifted, hand moving to your cheek. He couldn’t see your expression, but he heard the soft stagger in your breath when he was now sitting upright. You were still fairly close, looking right at him. 

“When you come back I’d like to take you to dinner.”

“Diner..?” 

He smiled. 

You were far too wasted to truly process his words, so he nodded. 

“Yeah, diner. Would you be interested?” 

You nodded vigorously. 

“Yep, Matty's cute!” You chirped. 

He chuckled, leaving a kiss on your cheeks. 

“Till next time then.” 

That’s all he could really hope for.

[petertingle-yipyip]

A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS - MATT MURDOCK

yknow what, don’t even blame me for this. it’s fun, the songs so ridiculous i love it. enjoy a break from our regularly scheduled MAG content :) super short, super rushed bc i forgot i wanted to do this lol

Pairing: drunk reader x college!matt (unofficial)

Word Count: 1,063

Summary: End of semester = massive holiday mixer before leaving for break. And a certain blind, super hot, super smart law student shows up when you’re a bit too tipsy for your own good. (merry christmas if you celebrate! hope everyone is safe and has fun!)

“It’s the end of semester!” Your roommate pleaded. “C’mon!”

“I still have KN430 final today.” You reasoned, flipping through your notes as you filled in your study guide. “Semester’s not over yet.”

“Y/N.” She said and bounced across the room. She dragged your chair away from the desk and spun you to face her. “You can’t just not go to the holiday party. Everyone goes!”

“Can I just focus on this test first?” You laughed.

“Wait, is that legal issues in youth sports? Because I know there’s a certain law student that you hooked up with that would-“

“It’s applied sport psych. And leave Murdock out of this.”

“But he’s gonna be at the party!”

“Really?” Your brows raised. “He hasn’t been to anything lately.”

“I know. But I talked to Foggy and he said that he can get Matt to go. He’s pretty sure he’ll stay as long as you’re there.”

“Why am I the bargaining chip?” You laughed at the pointed look she gave you. “Look, let me focus on studying for now and I’ll go. Okay? I really need to pass this one”

“Yes!” She hopped and clapped. “I’m picking your outfit.”

You chuckled and spun back to your notes.

Later that night, you kept your word and went to the party. Your roommate put you in a short long sleeved velvet dress, black glittery stockings, knee high boots and a Santa hat. You had on a heavy coat to keep the cold out until you got inside.

“What are you gonna say to him?” She asked, looking around the party.

“Let me come warm you up. You’ve been out in the snow.” You joked and she laughed.

“Sounds like hoe, hoe, hoe.” She teased.

“Learned it from you.” You winked and her jaw dropped before laughing.

You were about six shots deep when Matt finally showed up. Your coat was long since discarded and you were now playing beer pong with your roommate against two guys from the fraternity hosting the party. You had just sunk the center cup and were being handed a shot when you saw him.

“He’s here!” You whispered, though it wasn’t much of a whisper.

“What?” Your roommate looked around till she found him, only two shots behind you. “Oh! Foggy, Matt! We’re over here!”

You threw back your shot, making a face in regards to the heavy taste and reached around for your chaser. Your hand found Matt’s and you gave him a wide, inebriated grin.

“Matt!” You giggled and he let out a groan when you threw your arms around him. “You made it!”

“I didn’t think you’d be this excited to see me.” He laughed lightly.

“You’re my wishlist.” You gave a shrug.

“What?” His smile remained.

“Looking at you got me thinking Christmas.”

“Y/N! The game!” Your roommate whined so you turned back but missed your next shot. You smacked your hands together but your roommate made her next cup.

“I’m guessing your roommate is carrying your guys?” Matt teased and tapped your leg with his cane.

“It’s you!” You reasoned with a finger in his face. “You make me nervous!”

“Do I?” He smirked.

“Snowflakes in my stomach kind of nervous.”

The boys against you missed boths shots.

“Make this one.” He said warmly, a soft demand underlying his words that sent a shiver down your spine.

“And if I do?” You teased as your roommate took her shot.

He blew out a long sigh. “What do you want?”

“You could fill my stomach with something else.” You hinted and his brows raised. “You be Santa Claus and I’ll be Mrs. When you’re comin down the chimney, it feels so good.”

He gave a small smirk and you laughed. “How could I say no to that?”

You turned back to your game and bounced the shot, landing it perfectly.

“Yes!” You exclaimed as they rolled the balls back to your side. “Can we get a rerack? Uuuuuhhmmmm…. Diamond.”

The boys grumbled as they fixed the cups, muttering that they can’t be losing that obviously. You turned back to Matt with a shit-eating grin as your roommate took her turn. You took the Santa hat off your head and fit it on Matt, earning a chuckle.

“Just out of curiosity… How many drinks have you had already?”

“Pffft.” You waved a hand. “Less than ten.” You nodded confidently.

“That explains it.” He chuckled.

“Explains what?” Your voice went high.

“Why you’re talking like that.”

“What do you mean? I’m talking Christmas.” You turned innocently to your game and threw a shot that went wide.

“Really?” His brows raised.

“Yeah, y’know.. Decking all the halls, spiking eggnog.”

“Big snowballs!” Foggy announced and threw his arms over yours and Matt’s shoulders. “We play winners.”

“Might wanna rethink that.” Matt chuckled and tapped his cane against Foggy.

“I’ll line you up, man. All you gotta do is flick it.” Foggy reasoned and the way your mind was cloudy with liquor had you biting down a laugh at the potential to make a dirty joke.

“You sure?”

“Yeah! I trust you!”

“C’mon, Murdock.” You smiled and tapped his chest. “Where’s your holiday spirit? No gifts. No sweater. No hat.”

“Hey, I caught that holiday glee.” He nodded with a smile, reaching out to find your hand with one and used the other to thump the ball of the hat against your forehead. “My true love gave it to me.”

“Sounds like hoe, hoe, hoe to me.” Your roommate whispered in your ear and you laughed.

“Give the ladies what they want, Matt.” Foggy insisted.

“Alright, alright.” He conceded.

“Oh, we’re gonna kick your ass!” You grinned.

“You’d beat a blind man? On purpose?” Matt asked incredulously.

“Yes I will.” You nodded. “Unless there’s a reason not to. You got a new toy for me?”

“Thought you were gonna be my Mrs.”

“Oh yeah.” You laughed. “I’ll take you for a ride. I’ll be your Vixen.”

You and roommate finished the game and won, beginning a new game against Matt and Foggy. Surprisingly, Matt’s accuracy after Foggy lined him up was better than you expected. Either that, or the shots were stronger than you had initially thought. Still, you and your roommate won and you ended up taking about five shots more.

And your Christmas present from Matt ended up being very worth it.

[punchdrunkdoc]

Part 3, Chapter 7

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 (maybe 4??) parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

————–

PART 3

Chapter 7

Matt was drunk.

It wasn’t a state of being that he enjoyed. And it definitely wasn’t one he found himself in often - he relied on his senses and reflexes too much to dull them with alcohol. But some situations in life called for the oblivion of being shit-faced. Like bonding with your new best friend in college. Celebrating passing the Bar.

And finding out the woman you love is a lying murderer. 

Matt downed the liquor in his glass - no longer feeling the burn as it slid down his throat - and motioned the bartender for another.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” The voice came from behind him, the dry, mocking monotone instantly recognisable.

Jessica Jones.

“Whatta you doing here?” he asked, as she took the stool next to him.

“I should be asking you that. This is my regular joint, not yours.” To prove her point, she nodded to the bartender, who immediately plucked a bottle of Jack Daniels from the shelf and placed it in front of her. “Thanks, Diego.”

Matt snatched the bottle and poured a fifth into his own glass.

Jessica quickly grabbed it back. “You’re lucky I’m in a generous mood, Murdock, otherwise I would have smashed this over your head.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Matt muttered.

Jessica laughed. “No. I have a thing against picking on pathetic, sad-sack lawyers when they’re drowning their sorrows.”

“Everyone’s gotta have principles.” Matt meant it as a joke, but the words just served to remind him of why everything had gone so wrong tonight.

“You wanna talk about it?” Jessica asked, her voice uncharacteristically kind.

Matt scrubbed a hand over his face. The move dislodged his glasses, so he yanked them off and dropped them on the bar in front of him. He’d gone straight home after the confrontation with Calina, knowing that he wasn’t in the right headspace to be out as Daredevil. He’d shoved on his sweats then started pacing his apartment, too wound up to relax.

That’s when he’d realised he needed a drink. He needed to blunt all the anger and the pain and the misery he was feeling before it drove him to do something reckless. Something violent.

Like storm that warehouse in Jersey and beat every living soul in it to pieces.

So he’d found himself here instead, in this half-deserted, dreary, run-down bar. Which was apparently Jessica Jones’ favourite hang-out.

That fit.

“Matt?” she prompted. “Is there something I should know about? Are you here getting smashed because the world is going to end thanks to a shady multinational cabal of evil immortals? Again.”

“No. The world’s not ending. Just my relationship.” Matt shook his head. “Maybe.”

He wasn’t sure where he stood with Calina now. Was there hope for them? Could they salvage what they used to have with this difference of opinion hanging over them?

Matt laughed to himself. The phrase ‘difference of opinion’ was doing a lot of heavy lifting - they didn’t disagree on furniture layout, or whether pineapple belonged on pizza. They disagreed on the very sanctity of life. On the fundamental issue right and wrong.

Could they ever get passed that?

“You and Calina?” Jessica guessed.

“Yeah.”

“Well. Fuck.”

Matt laughed again. “Yeah. Fuck.”

“What happened?”

“She’s a murderous lying liar. The usual.”

Jessica reeled back. “What are you talking about? She seemed so…nice.”

Matt laughed. “She is nice. She’s really nice. And kind, and generous, and smart, and funny. And she smells so fucking good. But she’s also a trained assassin.”

“Are you serious?” Jessica whispered, leaning close so the few other patrons scattered around the bar couldn’t hear. “Did you just find out?”

Matt swirled the dregs of the alcohol in his glass. “No. I’ve known for a while. She’s a Black Widow - trying to go straight. But her former boss is after her, so she’s…taking care of it.”

Part of Matt knew that he shouldn’t be revealing all of Calina’s secrets like this. But another part of him knew that he could trust Jessica - she’d kept his secret all this time, after all.

Besides, he needed to talk to someone about this. He needed to lay out his argument and hear from someone else that he wasn’t over-reacting. That he wasn’t being overly judgemental.

That his goddam principles hadn’t fucked things up for no reason.

Jessica glanced around the room again. Then she grabbed Matt’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “I think we need some privacy for this. Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

Matt stumbled out of the bar, grateful for Jessica’s strong grip as she guided him back to his apartment. They were quiet as they walked, and Matt used the time to try to sober up - he wanted to be more lucid when he pled his case.

So he breathed deeply, turned his face into the wind, and let the crisp night air shock his system. And when they arrived back at his place he went straight for the coffee machine in the corner of the kitchen. “You want some?” he asked his guest.

Jessica pulled a flask from her jacket pocket. “I’ll stick to this - I’m not a light-weight like you.”

Matt rolled his eyes and finished fixing his drink. Then he collapsed onto the sofa and took a large sip, ignoring the burn to his tongue.

Jessica took the seat opposite. She leaned forward, hands dangling between her spread legs. “Okay, Murdock. Talk.”

Matt took another drink…and did just that. He explained how he'd discovered Calina’s secret. The nature of the Widow program and the Red Room. The mind control. Calina’s escape from that life and the current situation with Volkov.

Everything.

As he finally got to their fight tonight, Matt’s anger re-ignited. He stood up and started pacing the living room. “Now she’s dead set on this plan to murder a man in cold blood! And she expects me to just stand by and let it happen!”

“Wow,” Jessica said, following his movements

“I know!”

“You’ve really got a stick up your ass about not killing people the people who need killing.”

“That’s what you took from that?”

She just shrugged.

“And nobody needs killing,” Matt added coming to a stop. He rested his fists on his hips as he stared down at the woman opposite.

Jessica screwed the cap back on her flask and stowed it back in her jacket, her movements slow and deliberate. Then she stood up and crossed her arms over her chest, pinning him with a stare. “Some people do.”

Matt paused, thrown by the change in her demeanour. Her mocking indifference had mutated into complete seriousness. And that’s when he realised, “You’re talking about Kilgrave.” Matt remembered hearing about the incident that had turned Jessica Jones into a Hell’s Kitchen celebrity.

“That man ruined my life, Matt. He stole my body. My mind. And he used me in a hundred different ways. Which fucked me up in a hundred different ways. Ways that you’ll never understand. But Calina would. She knows what that feels like. Which means I know exactly where she’s coming from. I know exactly why she wants this Volkov guy dead. Some people just don’t deserve their time on this earth.”

“But it’s not up to us to decide that.”

“You decide it all the time.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Every time you spare someone, you’re making that decision. You’re deciding that they get to live. And potentially go on to harm others.”

Matt folded his arms. “The lack of action isn’t an action. Its only the act that is wrong.”

Jessica raised an eyebrow. “Says who? God? Because we don’t all believe in him, you know.”

“What about the law? Do you believe in that?”

“To a point. But you break the law all the time - when you deem it unjust.” She shrugged one shoulder. “A bit hypocritical if you ask me.”

Matt started pacing again, his movements less fevered than before. Jessica was making some of the same arguments as Calina…and they were starting to penetrate. But he still felt such a strong revolt in his soul at the thought of Calina killing people.

And lying to him about it.

And he couldn’t separate one from the other. He couldn’t figure out which sin was angering him the most.

And whether he could let either one of them go.

———

That anger stayed with him through the rest of the night. After Jessica left, and Matt was once again alone in his apartment, the burning fire in his gut kept him awake. And when he arrived at work, he couldn’t hide his mood from his partner.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Foggy yelled after Matt slammed down the phone on one of their clients. “Do I need to remind you that he’s one of the few people we represent who can actually pay us?”

“He’s a scumbag.”

“Yes. But he’s a scumbag with money. We can only afford all the pro bono work you love so much by occasionally putting up with assholes like Anderson.”

Matt shoved at his desk, the pile of papers on the edge toppling to the floor. “I’m so fucking sick of having to compromise like that.”

Foggy held up his hands. “Whoa, where is this coming from? What’s going on with you today?”

Matt raked his hands through his hair, then sighed. “Calina and I had a fight last night. A big one.”

Foggy shrugged. “So you’ll work it out. You always do.”

“I’m not so sure, Fog.” Matt sank back in his chair, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I found out some things,” he continued, explaining about the Widow’s plans for Volkov, and Calina’s body count since being free of the Red Room.

Retelling the story twice in 12 hours merely served to stoke the outrage within him. But Foggy seemed annoyingly unperturbed. “It didn’t occur to you that their plan involved killing these guys?” he asked. “C’mon, you’re not that naive, Matt.”

Matt picked up the pencil in front of him and started twirling it around, the fidgety action helping him focus as he thought through Foggy’s question. And he quickly came to a realisation. “I was in denial,” he said, shaking his head. “I forced myself not to think about it. Like that night when Calina was under the mind control - I always knew there was something off about her story, but I let it go. I didn’t want to pull at that thread because I was scared of what I would find. I just…I didn’t want to go through it all again, Foggy.”

“What do you mean?”

Matt paused. Then spat out a single word. “Elektra.”

Foggy groaned, “Matt-”

“You said so yourself,” Matt interrupted. “The two of them are so similar. And now I’m back to trying to convince the woman I love not to be a fucking murderer! I’m back in the exact same place!” The pencil in his hand snapped as he clenched his fist.

“This is not the same thing at all!”

“How is it different?” he yelled.

“Because Calina is a good person! Despite all the shit she’s been through, she’s a good person.”

“You barely know her, Fog”

“It doesn’t matter - because I can see the effect she has on you. Elektra brought out the darkness in you, but Calina brings out your light. I’ve never seen you like this with anyone before. These last six months, you’ve been like a different person. You’ve been…balanced. You’ve been happy!”

“Because I didn’t know who she really was!”

“That’s bullshit, Matt. Do you honestly believe she relishes killing people? That she gets off on it, like some psycho? Or is she just a woman trying to escape an unbelievably violent and abusive past who’s had to make some difficult choices?”

Matt leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk, then dropped his head into his hands. Of course, he didn’t think that Calina enjoyed killing, or sought it out. He just couldn’t explain why this was bothering him so much.

Foggy obviously couldn’t understand it either. Matt could sense him shaking his head as he looked at him from across the desk. “I don’t get it, Matt. I thought you’d become less…rigid…about this over the past year. Karen thought so too - that’s why she finally felt like she could tell you what happened between her and Wesley. And it didn’t affect your friendship, did it? You didn’t think less of her because of what she did?”

“No,” Matt admitted, clenching fistfuls of his hair.

“And Jessica Jones. You’re friends with her - as much as anyone can be friends with her - and she very publicly and famously killed someone.”

“I know,” he ground out.

“So what’s going on? Why is it so different with Calina?”

Matt suddenly exploded out of his chair. “Because she lied to me! She lied to me for months about killing a man 30 feet away from my apartment. And if I hadn’t asked about Volkvo she would have lied about that too. She lies so easily, its like breathing for her.”

Foggy cocked his head, and studied Matt for a few beats. “What bothers you more - the lying or the fact that you couldn’t tell?”

“Why does that matter?”

“The majority of the human race isn’t a walking lie-detector like you, Matt. We have to live with never knowing if someone is telling the truth. We have to take what people say on faith. I thought a good Catholic like you would be more used to that.”

“Get to the point,” Matt said, through gritted teeth.

“The point is, it seems you’re blaming her as much for her ability to lie, as the lies themselves. And its not exactly her fault that she can lie so well - its the way she was trained.”

“But she still lied, Foggy.”

“I know. And you have a right to be angry about that. You just need to decide if you can forgive her. And whether you can trust her going forward - without the crutch of bring able to monitor her heart rate or whatever it is you do to pick up lies. Do you think that’s possible?”

Matt closed his eyes and hung his head, his anger dissipating. It had been nothing more than a smoke screen, really. A distraction from what he’d really been feeling:

Fear.

Because he didn’t know if he could trust Calina ever again.

And he was terrified of what that meant for them.

———

Matt’s fist hit the leather punching bag with a satisfying slap.

The impact on his bare knuckles was just the kind of pain he was looking for, and he relished the sting from his split skin as he hit the bag again. And again. And again.

Then he kicked it, hard enough to send it swinging away from him, and followed up with a fierce one-two jab. He bounced lightly on his feet, sparring with the inanimate object, whilst trying with every bit of his strength to ignore the scent swirling in the air around him.

He’d arrived at Fogwell’s an hour ago, after Foggy had kicked him out of the office. Apparently, he was too much of a liability to the firm in his ‘current emotional state’. In other words, Foggy didn’t want him jeopardising another one of their revenue streams.

So he’d headed straight for the gym, knowing that his mind always worked through a problem best  when he was in motion. Even better when he was hitting something. But, unfortunately, the moment he’d entered the old building, Calina’s lingering fragrance had hit him.

Which did nothing to improve his thought processes…or his ‘emotional state’.

He’d tried to block it out as much as he could while he got changed and started his work-out, but after so many weeks living apart, his sensitivity to her - her smell, the sound of her voice, the cadence of her heart beat - had magnified. Like a cell phone searching for a signal in a black spot, a part of his mind had always been tuned to her, subconsciously seeking her out everywhere he went - in a crowd on the street; in the queue at the coffee shop; on his rooftop at night.

Which meant there was no escape from the torment of her phantom presence in this musty old gym.

Matt stepped away from the bag with a growl of frustration. It didn’t help that this was the site of their fight last night. He could still taste the adrenaline on the air. The angry, bitter words still seemed to echo off the walls.

He could still hear the sound of Calina’s footsteps as she walked away.

The argument replayed itself in his mind as he sat on the edge of the boxing ring, the sweat cooling on his skin.

And he kept coming back to one thing. A confession from Calina that had shocked him in the moment, but which he hadn’t fully processed until now:

“They strapped us down and ripped out our reproductive organs. Because we were just things to them. To men like Volkov, we were nothing.”

Matt scrubbed his hands over his face as the horrific words rang out in his mind. He’d seen some barbaric stuff over the years, acts of cruelty that had him questioning his faith in humanity and a higher power. But he’d never heard of anything so callously and brutally inhumane.

And the fact that it had happened to his Calina…it was unspeakably awful. He kept picturing her as a teenager, strapped to a gurney as she was violated in that way…

It made him sick. 

And it proved her point.

They did come from two very different worlds. And they had lived very different lives. Which meant he had no right to pass judgement on her actions. To question how she found justice or ensured her safety.

No right at all.

But did it change anything?

He’d already realised earlier today that her decision to kill Volkov and his men wasn’t the main issue they faced.

It was the lies.

Or more accurately, it was the lack of trust between them - on both sides. He couldn’t trust that she was telling him the truth. And she couldn’t trust him to handle her darker secrets.

Matt lay back on the floor of the ring, his head resting on a crooked arm, as he tried to work through his end of the problem.

Could he trust her? Without the crutch of his abilities, could he ever take what she said on faith again?

He just didn’t know.

He’d been burned too many times in the past by the people he loved. It had started as far back as he could remember with his Dad, and the lies about his mother. Then his mother had perpetuated those lies after he’d been taken in by the orphanage. Father Lantom had helped. Then there was Stick, and Elektra…

His ability to believe in people had been eroded, bit by bit, over decades. With each newly uncovered lie, with every sin of omission and act of betrayal, the last vestiges of his trust had been shaved away, until he was just a mass of jagged edges.

He’d thought those edges had finally started to smooth out thanks to Calina. He’d found himself opening up to her, letting himself be vulnerable.

Only to be betrayed again.

Could he forgive that and move on? Could he learn to trust her - fully and completely?

If not…what was the alternative?

Matt forced himself to imagine that alternative - a life without Calina. A future without her. No more warm presence in his apartment. No more talks over dinner. No more lazy evenings on the couch, his head in her lap while she read to him. No more sparring in the gym, or laughing beneath the sheets of his bed.

Her scent…gone. Her soft skin…gone. That feeling that he’d had almost from the moment they’d met, of a kindred spirit, someone who understood him, someone he could cherish and build a life with…all gone.

It was unbearable.

He rubbed at his chest, the thought of that emptiness, that loss, causing a physical pain deep in his soul.

What they had was too precious, too special to throw away so easily. He wanted to be with her. Despite her actions, he still loved her.

No, that wasn’t fair.

Her actions had shaped her into the woman he’d fallen in love with. He couldn’t dismiss them so easily.

And he did love her. He loved her bravery. He loved her mind, and her sweet, kind nature. He loved her loyalty to her sisters, and her off-beat humour, and her wide-eyed wonder at the world.

And, yes, he may have once held her on a pedestal - she was right to accuse him of that. But the plinth beneath her feet had crumbled…and he loved her still. Despite of it, and because of it.

And he didn’t want to lose her.

He would accept her decision regarding Volkov. And he would try like hell to trust her going forward. Because she didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of a lifetime of broken trust.

He need to get over it. If he had any hope of happiness, he needed to fucking get over it.

Matt quickly sat up and started rummaging through his gym bag for his phone. They needed to talk. It was time to really talk - not just argue and go around in circles. They needed to clear the air and get their relationship back on track. 

Because he couldn’t lose her.

It was as simple as that.

Finally locating the device, Matt dialled her number, and waited to hear her beautiful voice.

————–

Chapter 8

Tag list: @hollandorks @chezagnes @stilldreaming666 @yanna-banana @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy

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[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 2701 (chapter 34)

Summary:

You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case. Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that? What happens when you get involved in Fisk's business and Daredevil's lies against your will?

34. Lawyers, Guns and Money, pt. 2

It didn't take long for Matt to answer your kiss. Your lips, tightly pushed against his, demanding for more, drove him crazy. He felt your hands posessively squeeze his cheeks, then softly brush against his beard and he almost let out a sigh of bliss, but instead, opened his mouth to welcome your tongue. You almost saw stars in your eyes when your tongues met in the middle and Matt's hands pushed your body flush against his, fingers grasping the material of your jacket to ease the tension because otherwise he'd be too harsh.

His hair felt so good between your fingers, smoothly sliding on his scalp. You wished your fingertips would have memory, so you would never forget this feeling.

Matt wanted to stay like this forever. He didn't care about oxygen, the case, the devil, crimes and this fucked up city that he loved so much. He didn't care about anything in the world because he was finally touching you, clinging to your jacket like his life depended on it, he finally was so close to you that he felt your crazy heartbeat reflect on his chest through the layers of clothes, because finally your hearts were beating the same rhythm.

You reluctantly pull away, breathless like a fish thrown out of the water and look at Matt, eyes tightly closed, a dazed expression on his face and slightly puckered cheery red lips. You felt your lips tingle when you inhaled much needed air and it hit your wet lips. You wanted to lick them to stop the tingling but you didn't want the taste of Matt's lips to disappear so soon. "We're never going to work, Matt," words leave your mouth without too much though when you breathe in his cologne, savouring the scent.

"How do you know?" He presses his forehead to yours, heads and noses touching uncomfortably, yet souls starving for any kind of contact.

"I just feel it." You whisper, nails almost digging into his wrists that tightly hold onto your jacket. You knew why.

"But it doesn't mean that we shouldn't try." He furrows his eyebrows, making you do the same.

"I feel something for you, Matt." You close your eyes, taking a shaky breath, "but I feel like there's something keeping us away from one another." Your past. It was always about the things you wished to forget. Not Wesley, not Robert, not anyone who you have hooked up with in college. Someone else.

He sighs, exactly knowing what you're talking about. It's him. He can't live two different lives without sacrificing one of them. The Devil can't exist if Matt Murdock is being himself, but Matt feels like he can't exist without the Devil as well. This is the most toxic relationship he's ever had, and it's been constantly ruining his life.

"I don't want to ruin what we already have if we don't work." You say again, as he stays silent, breathing in your emotions. You felt like you two have worked on your friendship too much to throw it out of the window so easily.

"What if we have already ruined it?" He laughs humourlessly, feeling your soft hands on his wrist, where his pulse was tearing apart his skin.

"Then I guess there's nothing left to ruin." You whisper, and he frees his right hand from your grasp, touching your neck, feeling the hot skin under his fingers and your eyes close on instinct. He kisses you, in a possessive way, as if afraid that someone might steal you right out of his hands.

You pull him closer, hands getting lost in his dark hair again, Matt spins you around and presses your lower back to the cabinet. "Matt" you whisper when he pulls away, but not to breathe in the much-needed air, but to pepper your neck with kisses. You tilt your head back, all too suddenly, and accidentally bang it on the upper cabinet. "Shit."

Matt pulls away quickly, touching the back of your head, "you're hurt?"

"God, no." You chuckle and then both of you break into a mutual laughter, Matt presses his head onto your chest. Your hands hanging on his shoulders, you whisper, "why do I feel like this, Matt?"

"Like what?" He murmurs into your shirt, hands sliding behind your back.

"Like I can't breathe without the feeling of your lips. Like I can't focus when you're not in the room, but when you're in it, I can't focus either." You fall silent, and Matt squeezes you a little tighter. "Please tell me you feel the same."

Matt doesn't get a chance to answer when someone slams the main office doors. You both pull away from each other as if burned with fire, and you quickly pretend to be making coffee.

"Matt, how much sugar?"

"Uh, two, please."

"Oh, you guys are still here. I saw the light, and thought that I should come check..." Karen peeks into the kitchen and takes a weird look at the two of you. Matt looks lost and quite embarrassed, and you almost chuckle when you see the way he's sitting at the table, legs uncomfortably crossed.

"Yeah, we were still looking over the case. You can go home now, Karen, I'll lock it up." You smile cheekily, not looking at Matt, but putting on the kettle.

"I actually wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee. If it's no bother, of course." Karen drops her bag, and leaves the room. It was still weird between the two of you. With the way you shouted at her before and calmly spoke now, one would think that you have a serious mental illness.

"Sure!" You shout back, and feeling that she went far enough, laugh into your fist like a schoolgirl. "Problems, Matthew?"

"I'd rather not talk about it." He says embarrassed, yet still smirking.

"I think I haven't lost my charm over the years." You proudly say, fixing your hair, and then taking a look at Matt's head. "God, fix your hair before she comes back."

"So, any breakthrough?" Karen returns, and sits on the other side of the small table, eyeing Matt weirdly. You slightly fix your jacket, hoping that there are no wrinkles from the way Matt was grabbing the material.

"Uh, no, not yet." You say, putting on your serious lawyer mask.

"Well, that's a bummer."

"Yeah..." Matt finally says something, in hopes to throw Karen off the tracks.

"How's that... Printer business going?" You desperately try to make small talk before the coffee is ready, only then you can return to the case and out of Karen's sight.

"Um, good, yeah. I placed an order for the cartridge, I think it should arrive next week."

"Oh, good." You nod and turn around to fill up the cups when the kettle goes off.

"Wait, you're buying a new cartridge?" Matt intervenes, returning to the present moment again.

"Yes, I can't have Karen running to the library with our case documents." You turn around and place the cups on the table, purposely leaving yours on the counter.

"We have no money for that, I think you know." Matt argues, but you quickly silence him.

"I'm paying for it, don't get your panties in a twist."

"We've talked about this, y/n." The way your name rolled off his tongue made your insides drop again. Any other day you wouldn't have paid attention but now it almost drove you crazy.

"Hey, guys, it's okay, yeah? We'll pay you back when we get some money." Karen acknowledges herself again, stopping before you two start a quarrel.

"Nothing happens again without me knowing it, alright?" Matt crosses his arms, and frowns a little when you grab your cup and leave the kitchen area.

"Sure, captain." You shout from the distance and close the office doors, returning to the case, although who were you kidding, you couldn't focus on anything, except for the lingering feeling of Matt's lips on yours.

***

The late night session ends with you getting a call from your landlady, telling you that there's some water leaking from your flat to the neighbour's flat below, and you're needed there ASAP.

Which ends with you getting knocked out by three men in your flat, and put in a van, with a scarf on your eyes.

Which ends with you tied to a chair in a big, shabby room, with two big men guarding the doors. Someone pulls the scarf from your eyes and the bright light briefly blinds you. "Ah, what the shit." You say and notice the man who pulled the dark material from your eyes. "You."

"Me." Wesley answers with a note of regret in his voice.

"Should've known that." You chuckle, feeling how your hands already got numb from being tied behind your back.

"Yeah, you should've." He looks at you and then hesitantly reaches his hand to put the strand of hair behind your ear, face softening.

"Wesley, let's make our guest comfortable." A man bigger than the two standing near the door enters the room, and Wesley's hand quickly leaves your face. "Leave us alone." He says to the two guards, and they disappear in the depths of the corridor.

Wesley kneels behind you and starts untying the rope, hands gently sliding along yours. Involuntary, you shiver.

"I hope the journey did not cause any inconvenience." Fisk sits down on your left, Wesley remains standing on your right, as if the devil and angel on your shoulder turned into a parody with two demons.

"Yeah, sure, getting drugged and kidnapped is exactly how I wanted my night to end." You say sarcastically, mind briefly returning to Matt, who was left with Karen to guide him home.

"My apologies, if I interrupted your plans, Miss y/l/n." Fisk says with a fake sorrow in his voice.

"Why am I here?" You ask frustrated. Although your hands were completely free, you felt as if you were glued to the chair and couldn't move a muscle.

The little shadow of fear in your eyes felt as satisfying as ruling Hell's Kitchen, and Fisk's lips twitched into a loopsided grin. "I wanted to talk about some things with you. Give you an offer, a piece of my mind."

You say nothing, and apparently it gets on Fisk's nerves when he is ignored. "I don't do business with people who don't even tell me their name." You finally say, not breaking the eye contact with Fisk. He thinks for a moment, but finally one word leaves his mouth. Not what you expected, and definitely not what Wesley expected.

"Kingpin."

"Kingpin?" You ask, raising your eyebrows theatrically. "I think kingpig would suit you more."

Fisk grabs your chin, harshly and so suddenly, that you audibly gasp. Wesley moves an inch forward, his hand, still by his side, is sort of reaching towards you. Fisk notices the movement and lessens the grasp of his fingers.

"You have a big mouth, Miss y/l/n. We don't want it to get you into trouble. Right Wesley?" Fisk looks at James, without moving his head.

"Certainly, yes, sir."

"Understood?" Fisk tilts your head to the side, and towards him, so close, that you can feel the faint smell of the omelette that Fisk had for breakfast. You don't hurry to answer, and the fat fingers tighten again.

"Understood." You rasp out, and the hand, holding your chin, disappears in the sleeve of the black jacket again, as if it was a dog retreating on command.

"I'm grateful that we have this understanding between us, Miss y/l/n. It's nice doing business with people who have a connection between them. Do you think we have that connection?"

You bite your tongue for a moment before you say something that might get you killed on the spot again. "Perhaps we do, Mr Kingpin. How does it look for you, James?" You ask bitterly, turning to look at Wesley. He holds your glare and manages to nod a yes.

"Now that we have an agreement, I want to convince you that I'm serious about what I'm going to tell later. Just it's a pity that we have to meet under these circumstances, especially when you were so close to solving that case, Miss y/l/n."

You remain silent.

"I want you to drop it. Not only you, your whole firm of freaks in the suits. Drop the case, and we won't have to face any difficulties."

"What, did I scratch the nerve?" You retort, crossing your arms. Fisk grimaces, obviously containing another anger episode.

"What I'm offering, is a peaceful agreement, but if you decide to rebel, which... Would be too stupid for such a smart person like you, to put your loved ones into danger. I've been wanting to talk to your father for a while now." He notices how your jaw tighten, and a murderous smile appears on his fat face. Now he hit the nerve.

"I drop the case and, you what, just magically disappear?"

Fisk's smile never falls, on the contrary, it gets bigger. "Your lawyer strategies won't work here. Do we have an agreement or not, Miss y/l/n?"

Matt would kill you on the spot if he knew that you were signing a contract with the devil himself. "Possibly."

"I suggest you be careful about your choices. Now, why the sour faces?" Fisk looks at the two of you, Wesley staring at the dried blood spot on the table, and you, disgust on your face, looking at your hands in your lap. "I'm hosting a gala next week, and I'll be delighted to have you participating in it."

Your lips twitch briefly. "I have no other choice, do I?" Fisk doesn't answer, just nods to Wesley.

"Take her home. Friday, 7 pm." Fisk says, and you stand up on your own, before Wesley has a chance to grab your elbow.

The walk to the black SUV is as awkward as Wesley imagined it to be. Ordering the driver to leave, Wesley takes off his coat and puts it around your shoulders when you sit, and reaches to fasten your seatbelt, but you quickly snatch it from him without any words. He sits in the car, and locks the doors from the inside.

You huff a laugh, "didn't think you took me for a suicidal." You look straight ahead, hating the feeling of warmth that his coat provided for your shoulders.

"I can never guess what's going on in that head of yours." He says after while.

"If you could, you'd be working with Avengers, not him."

"I'm sorry that you had to meet him this way. I... asked him to wait." Wesley admits, shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Wait for what? A chance to chop off my head?" You finally turn to look at him, and he swallows uncomfortably.

"No."

"Give me a piece of your mind, James, c'mon." You mock Fisk's previous words and his hands on the wheel tighten their grip. "Or should I call you something else, huh?" He remains silent once again, and you nod to yourself. "What is it that he likes to call you? His bitch?" You bite and Wesley suddenly hits the brakes so hard that if it wasn't for the seatbelt, you probably would be lying in the middle of the road.

"Please... Can you just say nothing?" He mutters after collecting himself.

"Don't like my big mouth?" You ask him insolently, and flich when he unexpectedly punches the wheel and the horn rings through the city. Now you remain silent for the rest of the 20-minute ride, actually scared for what he might do if he lost his control. Finally, he pulls next to your building and turns off the ignition.

"I'll pick you up before seven." He dares to break the silence, and only then unlocks the doors. You don't hurry to leave, looking at him with a hurt expression.

"Goodnight, Wesley."

He watches you drop his coat from your shoulders, and slam the car doors loudly. Yet what pains him the most is how you didn't call him by his name. Not anymore.

[bellaxgiornata]

Congratulations Bella on having 2.5k followers! 🥳

Let's discuss a headcanon!

I personally headcanon that Matt did attempt o tell Foggy about his senses several times prior to Nelson v Murdock but failed for various reasons (not just chickening out and discussing something else).

Thank you friend!! 💖

Ohhh, now this is an interesting topic! I absolutely agree with you, though. With how much Foggy means to Matt and how much Matt feels guilty for a lot of his actions, I imagine it often ate away at him for feeling like he was lying to his best friend. And I imagine there were times Matt hinted at things subtly in college, whether drunk or sober, because he really wanted to let Foggy in. With the way he really grew close to Stick and Elektra, the two people who really "knew" him in his mind, he definitely always comes across to me as feeling lonely and isolated in some ways for having to hide such a big part of himself from his friends. But I also imagine the attempts Matt might have made often just flew right over Foggy's head every single time. Because why would you ever suspect your friend gained heightened senses from the accident that blinded him as a child? Generally no one would even guess at that, so it wouldn't have even crossed Foggy's mind.

Though I do also suspect Matt had many urges to straight up tell Fog but did chicken out for one reason or another. He was most likely afraid to lose the closest person he'd ever had because maybe Foggy wouldn't accept him, or he was afraid Foggy would feel as if he'd been deceived by Matt. And we all know how terrified Matt is of losing the people he loves most--especially taking into account how he'd recently lost Elektra--so I personally do think fear still played a role in Foggy not finding out before that episode. Plus, if my memory is correct, Matt started going out as the masked man when they began their internship at Landman and Zack. By that point, Matt was probably either afraid to tell Foggy because of being judged, turned in to the authorities, or afraid of putting Foggy's future career at risk if he was in on the secret and it was ever discovered that he was. I imagine Matt just made all sorts of excuses for his fears at that point to deal with his guilt.

But I'm sure you have thoughts on this topic and I'd love to hear them! Especially what beliefs you might have as to why it wasn't just fear that ever stopped Matt from telling Fog the truth, because while I do think that was a big one later on, I don't think that was all of it, either.

(Bella's Follower Celebration Post for those who want to join in the fun!)

[peterman-spideyparker]

Horses and Zebras (College!Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: I wrote this a bit ago with the intention of having this be smutty, but what I was coming up with just didn’t feel right, so I pivoted and turned it into this. I wanted to use a gif of college Matt but this one popped up, and I will never not use a gif of Tristan Thorn if given the chance and I’m also sorry for the sucky title. It might have a second part, but that’s TBD. Enjoy! :)

Summary: You’re in the medical program at Columbia, but you have some space in your schedule to take an elective, so you opt for a health policy and law class. What you don’t expect is meeting a handsome, blind law student.

Warnings: Fluff, flirting, medical jargon, angst (mentions of death, medical diseases), swearing

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 2,184

“Is this seat taken?” you hear a smooth, deep voice ask to your right as you take out your notebook and pencil case.

“It’s up for grabs,” you say with a smile as you turn to look at the asker. You feel your cheeks burn hot when you see the handsome man with brown hair, navy sweater, and sunglasses standing with a soft smile. He shifts the cane in his hands as he puts his bag down and begins unpacking his things. “I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Matt,” he returns as he settles. “Are you a 2L or a 3L?”

“I’m actually a med student—year and a half left.”

His thick eyebrows scrunch and his lips turn into a confused frown. “They’re letting a med student take a law class?”

“Well, it’s a health law and policy class. I’ve taken some summer courses to get ahead, and my advisor vouched for me. I figured if I’m going to be a doctor, I should try to help them and advocate for them as much as I can. Even if I know a little of it, I hope it would be a big help for some patients.”

“Wow,” he says softly. “You don’t really meet people that think like that.”

“Tell me about it. There’s this guy in my class, right? Stephen. He’s thinks he’s a real hot-shot surgical godsend, when really he’s just an egomaniac that always has to be the one holding the knife.”

“Sounds like a real dick,” he says with a sympathetic pout.

“There’s always people like that in any profession, I guess. Any people like that come to mind in the law program? Or am I talking to one?”

“I guess it depends on who you ask.”

“Mm,” you hum with a little smirk. “Sounds like a yes for the second to me.”

Matt smiles and licks his lips. It looks like he is just about to say something else when the professor walks in with her briefcase.

“Good morning and welcome to Intro to Health Law Advocacy. Now, we will be starting with medical ethics, and from there, segue into medical malpractice—which is slightly askew from the way it’s organized in the book. If you’ll open your textbooks to chapter eight . . .”

“How are you not worried about this exam?” Matt asks, flipping through his notes on his bed, taking off his glasses and putting them to the side, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, so far, I’m already familiar with these things,” you sigh as you turn on the chair at his desk. “We covered them the first or second year of the med program. I really haven’t learned anything new that will help me as a doctor. This class isn’t what I thought it would be, and I’m starting to think that’s why they let a med student take a law class.”

“So, what exactly are you studying right now, then?”

“Advanced abdominal and reproductive anatomy and diseases.”

“Ew,” he grimaces.

“Eh, it’s not bad. Some of my friends and I have done the ‘What’s my disease?’ game with all the symptoms and stuff, it’s just making sure I get these muscles right.” 

“How can I help?”

You lightly scoff. “Matthew, are you trying to get out of studying?”

“I would never,” he says in mock offense, a wry smirk almost immediately pulling at his lips. 

“It’s good you’re practicing your lying now,” you laugh as you move to make a highlight in your notes. “You really wouldn’t want something that bad presented in court.”

“Seriously, though,” he offers after he stops laughing. “I need a bit of a study break, honestly. How can I help you?”

“You could always just sit there and tell me how pretty I am.”

“(Y/N).”

“Matt, I appreciate it, but I don’t know if you can. Unless you want to be a live model, that is.”

“How so?”

You sigh, regretting even having brought it up. “It’s one thing to read it and look at diagrams, but it’s another thing to actually do it on a person.”

“Okay. So,” Matt draws out, putting a tab in his book. “I could lie down, and you’d poke and prod and tell me what you’d feel if I was a patient with one of the things in your book?”

“Yeah, I guess. Would you be comfortable with that?”

Matt nods. “I need a break from these laws—my fingers can’t take it anymore.”

“Alright, then.”

You know to do this, Matt would have to take his shirt off, but you’re not quite prepared for when he does. You can tell that Matt is in shape just by looking at him, but seeing how sculpted he is, the defined dips and curves of his muscles on his taut and smooth skin, you’re not prepared for how your mouth waters. Laying down on the twin bed, he lifts his arms, folding his hands behind his head, resting all nonchalantly with a cocky smirk on his lips.

“You alright there, doctor?” he asks, shifting ever so slightly and making his muscles flex.

“I’m not a doctor yet, Matty,” you tell him, grabbing your notes before you get up.

“You don’t need those.”

“How do you expect me to tell you which uncommon disease that you fictionally have when I poke you in certain places? It’s not like you know the symptoms.”

“You use your memory, sweetheart, that’s how.”

Your cheeks burn hot at the nickname, but it’s enough to convince you to put down your notes. 

“Okay,” you start, moving forward as you retie your ponytail. “Let me start with something easy just to get going. Appendicitis. Appendix becomes inflamed from infection and fills with pus. Pain is caused in the lower right abdomen, usually starting right around here.” You apply light pressure near his belly button on his rock hard abs. How does he have abs this great? “Pain will lessen the pressure is applied, but will get worse when my fingers get removed.” I mimic my motion with my words.

“Ow, it hurts really bad,” Matt adds for effect with a pout, making you giggle. “Doc, you gotta help me.”

“Well, you don’t have a fever,” you play along, feeling his forehead with the back of your hand. “Not nauseous, either. Could just be gas. But, if you do later on, it hurts when you cough, walk, or laugh, and the pain shifts here and your abdomen becomes rigid—,” you continue, moving your fingers lower, “—that’s then we have an issue. An ultrasound will confirm it’s an appendicitis.”

“Easy enough.” Matt’s tone is cool, but the blush on his chest, neck, and cheeks say otherwise. “What’s one of the rarer ones?”

“Well, that’d be something like Hirschsprung’s disease. It’s when there’s a lack of nerve cell bodies in part of the bowel. People are born with it, but it might not develop until later in life. Pain can present anywhere.”

“Well, that doesn’t make diagnosis sound easy.”

“It’s not as common. One of the first things you’re told is to look for horses not zebras; what someone might thinks is uncommon is actually something common presenting differently.”

“Then what happens when it’s actually uncommon?”

“People end up going to multiple doctors,” you sigh. “Or, they realize it’s uncommon when it’s too late. And the sad thing is, it happens—it happens a lot more to female patients than male patients because . . . fuck, I don’t know, people think women are weak.”

“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

“Cuz I am.” You sit down on the edge of the mattress, your shoulders slumping forward as you hang your head. “One of my closest friends in high school, she was so incredibly fit and healthy, but she hadn’t been feeling right. One doctor said it was the flu, a physician’s assistant said it was PMS, another said it might be something carcinogenic. Then one day our senior year when she was at home, she just collapsed. After a week, they figured out it was a neurological disease. It ran in her family, but it hadn’t manifested in anyone. And by the end of that week, she was gone.”

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry,” Matt says softly, sitting up and putting his hand on yours.

“I’m so afraid of turning into one of those doctors,” you breathe quietly. “I don’t want to worry anyone for no reason, to put them through unnecessary tests that insurance might not cover and they might not be able to afford. But I’m so worried that one day, I’m just going to convince myself that one of those zebras is a horse, and then someone else will lose their best friend.”

“We haven’t known each other for long, but I like to think that in the semester I’ve known you, I’ve gotten to know you well. So I know that when you become a doctor, you will treat every one of your patients with respect, kindness, and compassion. You’ll listen to them and their concerns, and do the absolute best to give them the care they need. If you think there’s a zebra in the room, I know you’ll trust your gut and approach it in the right way. It’s not gonna be easy, and it won’t be without its difficult times, but I have every last faith in you and your abilities.”

“I don’t think you know how much that means to me to hear,” you admit, your voice thick with emotion. “You really are going to be a great lawyer, Matt. And I’m not just saying that. A lot of the same nice things you just said about me apply to you, though. You’re kind, compassionate, and you just want to help. There’s nothing more admirable than that.”

You feel electricity move across your skin when he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. Your noses touch before you tilt your heads to the side so they slot better together, your lips millimeters apart before the door to his dorm opens.

“Guess who just got a date with Marci!” Foggy cheers triumphantly as he comes into the room, stuttering to a halt when he registers how you and Matt slide away from one another. “Sorry, I di—.”

“No—,” you start.

“Fog, we—,” Matt says over you.

“I should get going, anyways,” you say as you stand to gather your things. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Matt.”

“I’ll see you,” he says softly. “Text me when you get back to your dorm safe.”

“Will do. Night.”

As soon as you close the door to their room, you can immediately hear Foggy start profusely apologizing.

“Dude, I didn’t know! I’m so sorry—,” he starts.

“Fog, keep your voice down!” Matt hushes him urgently. “She can hear you!”

“She’s probably all the way down the hall at this point. Is that the hot med student you’ve been telling me about?”

“Fog—!”

“Don’t pull that ‘How would I know they’re hot’ shit—you always find the prettiest girls and ensnare them in your Murdock charm.”

You can’t help but giggle as you walk down the hall and start back to your place. So . . . Matt has talked about you to Foggy. You guess you can tick that off of your curiosity list. You wonder what exactly he’s told his best friend about. You’re so lost in thought and reliant on muscle memory that you don’t realize you’re back in your place until you slump your bag off your shoulders and it hits the floor. Pulling out your phone, you lean against the door and begin to text Matt.

“Your hot med student friend is safe in her dorm,” you type, grinning like an idiot as you bite your lip.

It takes him a little bit to respond.

“I’m glad,” he says with a little smiley face emoji. Another text bubbles before it disappears, reappears, and I have a new text on my screen. “I’m sorry for what Foggy said.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“So you did hear it. Eavesdropper ;).”

“I heard enough of it.”

You grow nervous when he doesn’t text back right away. In an effort to shake off the discomfort at the potential crater you might just have carved into your friendship, you change into your pajamas and grab what you need to start studying for you other classes. Just as you get in the right study spot, your phone buzzes to life with a text.

“You’re not mad?” it reads. 

“At you? Impossible.” Your finger hovers over the send button, wondering if it would push the envelope too much for the night, but then you remember the initial text you sent over, getting enough courage to click down on the blue circle with the arrow. “If you need me for anything, I’m just a text away.”

“Good to know. There’s no way I’m making it through this without you.”

Does . . . Does he mean the test? The class? He is too flirty for his own good. But you know one thing for sure: you have a big, fat, undeniable crush on Matt Murdock.

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[thornbushrose]

Some thoughts about Matt Murdock and relationships

GIF by Kamillahn

Wanna hear something messed up? Of course you do, that's why you love this disaster of a man.

To start with, Matt was raised by a single dad, who, as far as we know, never had a woman in his life as long as Matt can remember. After his dad died, he was raised by nuns and priests, who didn't have earthly romantic relationships.

He probably didn't really discover sex until college, when he would have learned that A) sex is great, B) girls are very attracted to him, and C) he's pretty good at it.

But there's a catch. Girls (not all, but a lot of them) want relationships. And here's the problem. He has no idea what a committed relationship even looks like. (Or sounds like, in his case.) He has never had a role model in his entire childhood who was in any relationship, let alone a healthy one.

So he gets this reputation as a player, because a player is someone who wants sex but not a relationship, right? And that's how he acts, but it's not that he doesn't want a relationship, it's that he has no idea how to pursue one. He doesn't call the next day because he doesn't know he's supposed to. He doesn't share his hopes and dreams with girls because why would he? He doesn't even pretend to offer emotional intimacy because he's never had it, and he doesn't realize that's what relationships are made of.

So that means--and here's the messed up part--guess who taught him how to be a boyfriend? Elektra. Since he was a mission, she didn't take his failings personally. If he was a bad boyfriend to her, she just reprimanded him and told him what to do. If he got spooked by the closeness, she dragged him right back in.

With the possible exception of Foggy's parents, this was the first relationship he'd ever seen close-up. So whatever spoiled or sociopathic -- or girlboss, I guess, depending on how you interpret her character -- ideas she had about what makes a good boyfriend, that's his baseline. His assumption about how the world works. He's probably okay with women who talk over him and punish him childishly, because that's just what relationships are like, as far as he knows.

Ironically, he probably treats his partners like princesses because that's what Elektra taught him to do. He tells them what they want to hear and puts their feelings over his own because that's what she required. Anything else is something he's learned/unlearned from other partners since her.

Thoughts and discussion are welcome.

[deceitfuldevil]

Kinktober 10/2

Prompt: Corruption

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader

Warnings: corruption kink (obvi), oral (fem! receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, MDNI 18+, smut, more warnings when I proofread this.

—

Spending the end of your senior year in college at at full time internship was not in your original game plan, yet here you were. Working 40 hours a week for some small-time lawyers who got paid almost as little as you. Originally you were set to graduate early because you’d reached the required amount of credits to graduate and your grades were exemplary, but your school insisted that you get some experience in the real world before they let you graduate.

Also known as, wasting your time so they can make you graduate with everyone else. It was nothing really, or at least that’s what you thought when you started at this firm only a few weeks ago. All was fine until he walked in, Matthew Murdock.

You’d achieved such amazing grades and met your credit requirements early by focusing on school and only school. Maybe a phone call to your family every other month, but no friends, no parties, and no relationships. How else were you supposed to get ahead in life?

All of those walls you’d built up in order to maintain a good school and work ethic came crashing down as soon as you saw him. The first time you laid eyes on Matt there was a fluttery feeling in your lower abdomen and heat rising to your face, something you’d never felt or experienced before.

Even thought it was just Foggy and Karen in the office besides you and Matt, people still talked. It didn’t take long for you to get the message that Matt has made his rounds around Hell’s Kitchen. That’s what made you the most nervous around him, his experience.

Matt clearly knew a great deal about the law and in the courtroom, you could only dream of what he know outside of it. But you lacked experience in more ways than one when comparing yourself to Matt. You’d never even had a job, this internship would be the first this to possibly be considered a job. Let alone a relationship? You were a dimwit to think he’d pay any attention to you… right?

Wrong.

Matt had been paying all the attention he had on your since your first day at Nelson & Murdock. Your short stature that made you nearly a foot shorter than him on the days you’d wear flats, and on the days you’d wear heels you barely came under his chin. He liked that about you, but he started to feel guilty when he heard you telling Karen how this is your first experience out in the real world.

“So how are you liking it here so far?” Karen asked you, being friendly as she filed some papers in a filing cabinet next to you.

“It’s good! Although I guess I don’t have much to compare this to.” You said with a chuckle, but Karen inquired further.

“What do you mean?”

You faltered, realizing it wasn’t normal for someone at your age, especially in New York, to not have any experience in anything.

“Oh um, just that this is my first job ever, even if it’s not really a job.” You said, trying to sound as if it was no big deal.

“Oh..” Karen said quietly, clearly a bit taken back by that information. Her reaction prompted you to start to ramble.

“Yeah never had a job, I barley talk to my family, no friends, never been in a relationship, hell I’m 22 and I haven’t even had sex yet!” You said a little too loudly with a very awkward laugh, trying to ease an uncomfortable situation but ultimately only making it worse.

Karen had no idea how to respond to that, so it was by some stroke of luck that a client walked in at that moment and she ran to help them check in and get away from the conversation at hand.

It’s a good thing the client who had just entered was there for Foggy, because Matt sat frozen in his desk chair upon hearing your conversation with Karen. The first emotion that washed over him was guilt, the thoughts he had about you were very sinful to be having about someone so inexperienced and clueless about the world.

Then, a completely different emotion flooded his body— arousal. Matt knew it was wrong, so so wrong. But his pants got tighter as he acknowledged the fact to himself that you were a virgin. Untouched. Holy even.

Suddenly Matt couldn’t find it in himself to want to do anything but ruin you.

But he convinced himself it was an urge he had to keep hidden, it was much too inappropriate on too many levels.

You on the other hand, found Matt more attractive by the day. Your days starting with squeezing your thighs together at the sight of him when he’d walk in and ending with soaked panties. You just couldn’t stop thinking about all the things Matt could do to you with all his experience in bed.

With your not-so-subtle (at least not to Matt and his enhanced senses) reactions to Matt and his everyday activities, it made it harder for him to ignore you and push aside his sinful thoughts.

So, one late night after Karen and Foggy had gone home, Matt decided to push his luck. “Hey sweetheart? Can you print these papers in braille for me?” Matt asked, standing in front of your desk and dropping the papers in front of you.

But you just stayed frozen, your heart dropping to your belly and going so fast it was practically vibrating. Matt smirked at the reaction he caused you, and pushed his luck even further.

“Something wrong sweetheart?” Matt questioned slyly, giving away that he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Matt I—”

“Oh I’m sorry, did you prefer darling? Or maybe doll?”

You went silent, knowing no response could mend your situation.

“At a loss for words, kitten? That’s too bad, I rather like listening to you speak. Why don’t I give you a reason to be so silent?” Matt asked, stepping forward and giving you a moment to back away or even flinch. But you didn’t, you just stayed still and waited for his next move.

“Open your mouth.” Matt command, and you were in no position to disobey. You opened your mouth wide and pressed your tongue

out the slightest bit. Matt placed his thumb gently on the softness of your tongue and rested the rest of his hand on your jaw. Leaning in close to your ear he said “now suck.”

You didn’t understand that action in the slightest but holy hell did it turn you on. So you wrapped your lips around Matt’s thumb and began to suck. Your tongue ran over the pad of Matt’s thumb as you sucked like you would a lollipop.

“That’s it, good girl.” Matt said with a low groan that when straight to your core. You squirmed in your chair, an unfamiliar feeling bubbling in your heat.

Matt removed his thumb from your mouth, a trail of spit connecting it for a moment. “You sweet thing, you don’t even know what you’re feeling right now do you?” Matt asked with a sinister voice, the fact that he was right made this feel all the more wrong.

“No sir.” You said shyly, taking note of the way Matt sucked in a quick breath at the sound of the name you just called him.

“It’s called arousal darling, and I’m about to show you a whole world of it.” Matt said darkly, leaning over and picking you right up out of your chair and tossing you over his shoulder. Thank god it was so late at night that no one would see him carrying you home like this.

When Matt had gotten back to his place, he wasted no time bringing you to his bedroom. Setting you down on his bed as he took a powerful stance standing in front of you.

“You’ve never been touched like this before, have you?” Matt inquired, leaning over and he skirted one hand up your leg and stopped at the hem of your skirt, gently starting to pull it down as he waited for an answer.

“N-no sir.” You stuttered out, closing your legs together as soon as Matt removed your skirt and panties along with them.

“Ah-ah-ah…” Matt scolded, wedging a hand in between your knees to pry them apart. “No getting shy on me now. Don’t pretend you didn’t know I’d notice the way your squeeze these sweet thighs together whenever I walk into the office.”

You might as well just die right now, spontaneously combust or something. But this wasn’t even the start. Matt helped you to slip your blouse off and started slowly kissing down your body, a mix of anticipation and anxiety flowing through you for what was to come next.

Matt stopped right in front of your dripping cunt, an area an even paid little attention to these days. “I’m about to show you a whole new world sweetheart.” Matt said with such eagerness in his voice.

Eager to please. Eager to corrupt.

With that, Matt dived straight into your heat. You immediately gasped, one hand finding purchase on the headboard of Matt’s bed and the other flying to thread your fingers in his hair. This sensation, this feeling. He was devouring you like a meal. You could feel his tongue prodding at your slick entrance, it was an entirely overwhelming feeling as you tried to push him away.

“Matty, oh my god. It’s too much.” You cried. Matt removed his face from your cunt for only a moment to warn you only for a moment “it’s not too much if you can still speak.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Matt dived back into you, this time his lips traveling an inch north and wrapping around a bundle of nerves you didn’t even know could bring you such pleasure… and then he began to suck.

Now you were speechless, and that wasn’t even the start of it. You thrashed around on the bed, gasping for air. But Matt brought one strong arm down to pin your hips to the bed, keeping you in once place so that he could add his other hand into the mix of pleasure he was bringing you.

Matt made a bold move and slipped two fingers into your incredibly tight pussy, curling them and immediately finding that perfect spot inside of you.

Scream, that’s all you could do. It was like a heavy slap to the face, knocking all down the wind out of you and you cried out so loudly. Your body acting on its own accord, shaking with immense pleasure as Matt lapped up your juices.

You felt like you were free floating above all of Hell’s Kitchen, a dopey smile adorning your exasperated face. Looking to the end of the bed where Matt now stood stark naked, pimping himself with one hand, your legs squeezed together at the beautiful sight.

“Hey doll” Matt cooed, leaning over to hover above you as he took your face in his hand, peppering a sweet kiss to your forehead. “Are you done being all fucked out?” He asked sweetly.

“Yeah Matty.” You said with that soft smile still on your face. “Good, because I want you to hear this.” Matt said, his tone dropping an octave as he lined himself up with your core and dropped his hand from your face to your throat.

“I am going to be the first man to fuck your little virgin pussy, and I’m going to fuck you so good and so hard that no other man will ever compare and you’ll always come back to me. Your first. Your only.”

You swallowed the lumped that formed in your throat at his words as the smile you come wore fell off your face, both fear and excitement coursing through your veins.

“Do you understand sweetheart?” Matt asked, tone as soft as ever.

“Yes sir.” You said barely above a whisper, but Matt heard you loud and clear. Pushing his impressive member into you at an achingly slow pace. After he was about half way in, you started to whine.

“It hurts Matty” you said with a hiss, looking down to find he wasn’t even fully inside of you yet. “Just hold on for me baby, soon that pain will turn to pleasure.”

Oh god, when? Right now as Matt continued to fully immerse his member inside of you it just felt like he was literally splitting you in half. Just when he bottomed out you thought he’d give you a moment to adjust, but no. Matt immediately drawer himself back out only to slam him back inside of you as you let out a cry.

“Such a tight little pussy, so pretty for me.” Matt praised, causing your to clench around his thick and throbbing cock.

“I’m ruining you right now, do you realize that? You’ll never be the same because of me.” Matt said with pride, leaning down and tightening his grip around your throat. “I’m corrupting you for good darling, there’s no going back after this.”

You were sure why his words aroused you as much as they did, but you sure as hell weren’t complaining. Matt was now slamming in and out of you, short punctured breaths were all that fell from your lips.

That unknown feeling that Matt broke for the first time just a little while ago was building up again, getting ready to snap all over again. You weren’t sure if you could do it again.

“Matty, I think I’m close.”

“I know doll, I am too.”

“I don’t know if I can do it again.”

“You don’t have a choice.” Matt spoke fiercely, taking his other hand off your hips and bringing it back to your clit as he began to run fast circles on it.

God was he good.

Suddenly it was only Matt’s name falling from your lips like a prayer, high pitched and crying as you were about to snap. “Yeah that���s right baby, keep saying my name just like that.” Matt encouraged, leaning over and resting his lips at the shell of your ear as he said “because you belong to me.”

There it was, that was it. Belonging to someone is exactly what you needed. Another orgasm coursed through you like a raging typhoon, you weren’t even sure if you were screaming or if you had lost your voice completely. Traveling to an ethereal plane of euphoric pleasure, swearing you could see the whole galaxy now.

A warm feeling filled your body, a feeling you later recognized as Matt filling you up with his release and painting your walls. His thrusts slow and easy as he fucked his cum inside of you, a little still leaking out as he pulled out from you. Leaving a feeling of emptiness in you both.

You chest heaved as Matt collapsed next to you. In a move that surprised you, he drew you in close, letting you cuddle into the nook of his neck while you slowly drifted off to sleep.

Matthew Murdock may have corrupted you, but he also wanted to keep you.

—

A/N

Wrote this on day 3 of my road-trip, sitting in a cramped back seat while my friends fight in the front :) so much fun. Anyways I actually like todays Kinktober blurb I did and yesterdays is going better than I expected, so thanks for the appreciation!

Much Love,

—Skyler