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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 3 months

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Sex pollen!Bucky Barnes one shot

What a weird night. Another mission blowing up an old Hydra base, ransacking it for information before the explosion. You and Bucky had been scouring emptied shelves and desks. All computers and hard drives had already been wiped clean. As you explored you found a lone flower in a pot, sitting in the middle of an exam table in an abandoned lab.

“What is this?” you wondered out loud, walking closer to the flower but not daring to touch it. It looked otherworldly, a color that you could only describe as indigo with iridescent anthers that seemed to glow as you came closer. You took a picture and sent it to headquarters. A video call quickly came back within seconds of you sending the picture.

“Hey Shuri, what am I looking at?” you asked.

“DON’T TOUCH IT! GET AWAY FROM IT!” she yelled, her eyes bulging through the screen. You quickly stepped back, staring at it in fear.

“What the hell is going on? What is it?”

“We don’t have a name for it here on earth, the only way I can describe it is an alien aphrodisiac. The anthers on it will shoot out a dust that will make the one who breathes it extremely aroused to the point that if they don’t…copulate quickly it could cause dangerously high heart palpitations, abdominal pain, even psychotic breaks. It can severely hurt or even kill you.”

“An alien aphrodisiac?” you asked dumbly, staring at the flower again. It was beautiful, and you could feel a strange pull to go up to it and desire to touch it. Thankfully you had some sense of self-preservation. “Okay, what do we do with it?”

“Just get out of there and blow the place. The explosion should be enough to kill the plant. I don’t know how Hydra was able to get one, but there’s a reason they left it behind.”

“Jesus, okay, we’re on it. I’ll report back soon,” you ended the call then tried to get hold of Bucky. “Buck, can you hear me?” you said, hitting the earbud in your ear. Nothing. You left the room, walking down the corridor to another side of the base to try to get a better signal.

“Bucky, do you read me?” you called more loudly. You heard nothing but static. “Dammit,” you grumbled. You tried your phone since you’d been able to get hold of Shuri. After two rings he answered the video call.

“Hey doll, where are you?” he asked, a strange glowing behind him. Your eyes widened at the color of the glow.

“Buck, where are you?”

He turned, showing the lab you were just in. “This old lab, there’s this weird looking flower in here, we should probably bag it up and bring it in for testing,” he said, reaching a hand out to the flower.

“Bucky NO!” you screamed at your phone, already running back down the corridor.

It was too late. A large puff of indigo dust poofed from the flower’s anthers, surrounding Bucky and making him cough violently. By the time you reached the lab he was on his knees, dry heaving as the dust seemed to magically disappear into his skin.

“Shit,” you swore, running in and pulling him away from the flower. “We have to get out of here. Did you set all the charges?”

Bucky was unresponsive, still coughing and holding his stomach as he tripped over his feet as you dragged him out of the room. You grunted as you pulled him along back down the corridor, his arm hung over your shoulder.

“Come on Buck, stay with me,” you reached a hand up and grabbed his chin to make him focus on you. “Did you set the charges?!”

“Yeah,” cough, “yeah I got it,” his arm around your shoulder seemed to tighten as he doubled over in pain, his face getting dangerously close to yours, like he was nuzzling your cheek with his nose. “What the fuck was that thing?”

“Ugh, I’ll explain once we’re out,” you ignored his close proximity, pulling him through the halls until you finally found the entrance, quickly loading yourselves into the quinjet. As you placed him into a chair and buckled him in you noticed a sheen of sweat along his hairline. You gingerly placed a hand on his forehead. He was burning up. “Shit,” you swore again. When you turned away to start the jet Bucky groaned.

“Don’t, don’t leave me,” Bucky begged, his eyes screwed shut. His metal hand was warping the arm of the chair.

“I’m right here, Buck, just gotta get us in the air,” you placate him, getting the jet moving then turning to him again. “Where’s the remote for the charges?”

Bucky shifted in his seat, reaching towards his pants pocket but fumbling as his fingers trembled. You quickly reached down and dipped your hand into his pocket. Bucky moaned loudly as you touched him so close to his cock, which you just noticed was straining against his pants. He still had the sense to look embarrassed as your eyes flashed to his face when he moaned, but you pretended like nothing happened as you took the remote and once you were a good distance away detonated the charges. A loud boom reverberated as you flew away, taking out the base and the alien flower.

As you sank into the other chair and took a breath you called Shuri again.

“Shuri, it’s done, but we have a bit of a problem,” you started when her face showed up on the screen.

“Oh please don’t say what I think you’re going to say,” she pleaded, looking worried.

“Bucky wasn’t with me when I called you, so he didn’t know to stay away from the flower, and by the time I tried calling him there was no reception so I wasn’t able to tell him before he got too close to it. It blew right in his face and now he’s–”

“Ungh!” Bucky moaned again, his flesh hand palming himself through his pants. “What is this? God, it burns everywhere!”

“Oh Bast,” Shuri swore. “What are his symptoms?”

You stood back up, walking over to Bucky as he writhed in his chair. “Sweating profusely, high temperature, abdominal pains…hey Buck, open your eyes, look at me,” you directed him. He quickly responded to your voice, his eyes looking wild as he stared at you. “Pupils are dilated, and uh, well, some major arousal from what I can see,” you finished quickly, looking away from his debauched gaze.

“Damn, and it all started immediately upon breathing in the dust?” Shuri asked quickly, her body turned towards a screen that she was typing on.

“Yes, he was choking and dry heaving on it, and it seemed to, I don’t know, seep into his skin? It was crazy,” you rushed out. You felt a tug on your shirt, looking down and seeing Bucky’s metal fingers pulling on the hem of your shirt, trying to pull you closer to him. “And now he’s trying to touch me,” you stated plainly.

Shuri sighed, turning away from the screen she was looking at. “There’s nothing else that can help him. He needs to have sex as soon as possible or else he will get worse and worse until his heart or mind gives out. And seeing how much his mind has gone through in the last 80 years, you don’t have much time,” she remarked gravely. “I’m sorry I don’t have any better answers for you. This is something that we’ve never had to deal with before.”

You sighed, feeling Bucky’s fingers grab onto your thigh and pull you closer to him. “I get it, Shuri, thanks. Just…turn off the cameras and speakers for the jet, please?”

Shuri nodded with a pitiful smile on her face. “You got it, good luck.”

You hung up your phone and set it on the other pilot chair. You glanced back at Bucky and saw him crying as his metal fingers dug into your thigh. “Oh Buck, it’s okay,” you sank down onto your knees in front of him, your fingers wiping his tears.

He sniffed hard. “No, it’s not. This isn’t okay. I didn’t want it like this, this doesn’t give either of us a choice,” he cried, his metal fingers now rubbing the back of your neck. He didn’t seem to have control over what his hands were doing as his flesh hand pushed harshly against his cock. “It’s not fair.”

You nodded, “You’re right, it’s not fair, it’s not right. But I’m not going to let you die. It’s okay,” you reached your hand up and cupped his cheek again with your palm, which he happily hung his head into. “You’re my best friend, my mission partner, and I’m not going to lose you to some alien fucking flower. I want to help you, do you hear me?”

Bucky looked in your eyes deeply, looking for any hesitation. He didn’t find it. “Buck, I want to,” you reassured him resolutely. “I want you.”

That was all he needed to hear. He ripped the seat buckle off of him and stood quickly, pulling you up harshly from the floor and towards the back of the quinjet where there were a couple of rooms for resting. He picked the one with the bigger bed and shoved you through the door. As much as this situation was dire, you were also secretly excited. The feelings you’d tamped down as a childish crush were now coming full front as you peeled your mission suit off, kicking your boots off to a corner and then helping him get out of all the buckles and straps on his outfit. Once you were both naked he wasted no time in cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. The kiss was desperate, his fingers digging into the softness of your cheeks, his lips moving against yours then biting your lower lip. You gasped and he took his opportunity to stick his tongue in your open mouth, tasting your tongue and swirling it with his. His hands quickly traveled down your body, feeling his way over each hill and valley of your curves, settling his flesh hand on your breast, tweaking the nipple making you moan, and his metal hand kneading your ass. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Bucky picked you up and heaved the both of you onto the mattress, gently seating himself between your legs. His hard cock was nestled against your stomach, the contact making him rut against you. He grunted as you bit his lip in return, another thrust against your core making you arch your back. He slipped his flesh hand between your bodies and felt around your lower lips, feeling the slick already building up. He moaned at how wet you were for him, using some of that slick on his thumb to bring it to your clit and rub you. You arched again, your hips thrashing as he flicked your clit and rubbed you harshly.

“Gotta get you ready for me,” he murmured, looking down at you and watching as he dipped two fingers into your pussy while his thumb kept busy on your clit. The fill of his fingers made you moan loudly, your mouth dropping open and hands digging into the sheets below you. He pumped his fingers lazily, his thumb doing all the work. You could feel the orgasm coming embarrassingly quickly, your hips gyrating against his hand.

“Oh god, Buck, I’m gonna cum, ungh,” your breath hitched as he flicked harder. The snap in your core was sudden, a yelp falling from your lips as you came on his fingers. He let you ride out the orgasm and the aftershocks, pulling his fingers out gently then bringing them up to his mouth and sucking on your juices. His eyes rolled back in his head as he licked his fingers clean. The scene almost made you cum again.

“Fuck, you taste divine, doll,” he growled. “Next time I’m gonna eat you out and pull as many orgasms from you as I can with my mouth.”

“Next time?” you breathed.

Bucky nodded as he shifted his hips and gripped his cock, lining himself up with your pussy. “Yeah, next time. Been wanting you for so long, doll. Although this isn’t the way I wanted it,” he paused as he pushed in slowly, making you gasp, “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me. Jesus, you’re tight!”

Your hands gripped his biceps, fingernails digging into his flesh arm. You tried to relax as he pushed slowly, trying to let you adjust even though you could tell he was struggling to go slow. The sweat was almost pouring off him now, his pupils dilated so much that his eyes looked almost completely black, his temperature even hotter than before. You worried that if he didn’t cum soon he’d pass out. He was trying to be careful, but he didn’t need careful, he needed relief.

“Buck,” you whined, swiveling your hips. He buckled as you moved, falling to his elbows above you. “Move, please. Just use me, honey. I can take it.”

“No,” Bucky grunted, “I don’t want to use you. You deserve better.”

“I know, hun, I know, but that’s not what you need right now. I need you to take me, please,” you ran your fingers through his hair then gripped it harshly, pulling his head up to look at you. He whimpered at your rough treatment, his eyes widening. “Fuck me, Bucky. Fuck me hard.”

His eyes seemed to glaze over as they narrowed at your words. His brow furrowed with determination as he moved himself to a different position, holding up your hips and lifting your legs over his hips. “Yes, doll,” he answered through gritted teeth. He then thrust into you violently, causing you to scream. He set a punishing pace, savagely driving himself into you as he chased his high. All you could do was hold on, your fingers grasping the sheets or his arms. You could feel the building orgasm in the pit of your pelvis as he hit your g-spot over and over. As your pussy fluttered around him he suddenly twisted you around, still inside you as he flipped you to your front and rutted into you from behind. The sound of skin slapping skin and gasping breaths filled the cabin as you moaned, trying to keep your hips up as he drilled you into the mattress.

“Bucky, oh baby, yes!” you cried, tears starting to form in your eyes. The new position made him reach even further inside you, making you see stars with each thrust. Your peak kept getting higher and higher until you finally fell, screaming his name as you came around him. Bucky shuddered as you came, your pussy convulsing around his cock, making him cum with a shout. He kept thrusting into you as he pumped you full of his cum, mumbling your name repeatedly. The flower dust had made him so incredibly horny that he kept cumming more than he normally would, making a mess as it overflowed from your pussy to the mattress below.

You both stilled as you calmed down from your highs, more dribbling out of you as you tried to regain your breathing. Bucky slowly pulled out, a squelching noise coming from your pussy as you both groaned, more cum dripping from your aching hole. You fell onto the mattress, your legs periodically shaking and arms splayed above your head. Bucky laid on the mattress next to you, breathing heavily.

After a few moments you shifted to your side facing Bucky. His eyes were closed, his mouth open as he breathed, his hair matted to his forehead from all the sweating. You reached out and moved some of his wet hair from his eyes. His eyes fluttered open at the feeling of your fingers. He looked at you with shining eyes, looking thoroughly fucked. You giggled at him, and he gave you a lopsided smile back.

“You feel better?” you asked slyly.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “Thank you, doll. I’m sorry I put you in this position,” he started, moving to his side to face you as well.

“Buck, it’s okay–”

“Will you go out with me?” he asked hurriedly. You blinked as your mind caught up to what he said. He watched you carefully as you processed what was happening.

“Yeah,” you smiled softly, closing the distance between you and kissing his cheek. It was very innocent considering you were both still naked. He smiled and took your free hand in his, giving your fingers a squeeze then bringing them to his lips and gave them a kiss.

“I know it’s too early, but um, I love you,” he confessed. “I’ve loved you for a long time.”

Your smile widened, your hand squeezing his hand back. “I love you, too, Buck. Probably too much.”

Bucky recoiled, “What do you mean too much? How could you love this,” he gestured to his body, “too much?”

You doubled over in laughter, slapping his chest as you straightened out after a minute. “You’ve been hanging out with Sam too much,” you laughed, wiping your eyes.

He laughed along with you, grimacing at the sound of Sam’s name. “Please don’t say Sam’s name while you’re naked in bed with me. It just doesn’t feel right.”

You laughed again, this time trying to stifle it behind your hand. “Okay, I’m sorry…Barnes,” you teased him. His eyes narrowed at you. “Or should I call you James?” he minutely shook his head. “Okay, how about…Sergeant?” His eyes widened. “Oooh, did I find a kink?” you giggled. “How about, sir?”

Bucky pounced on you, encircling you in his arms and tickling your sides. You squirmed against him as you screamed his name.

“That’s right, doll, that’s what I want to hear. You screaming my name,” he growled in your ear as he let up on the tickling. “Just Bucky is fine.”

“Haha, okay, okay…Bucky,” you said his name sensually.

Bucky moaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t start, or else we’re never leaving this cabin.”

“Who said I was ready to leave?” you teased him again, your fingers scratching down his chest. His hips jutted forward as you flicked his nipples lightly.

“Okay, you asked for it,” he warned.

#sex pollen #oneshot #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #smut

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babblingeccentric · 2 months

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Period Sex?

Zoro: would suggest it to YOU this man has a blood kink and he's great at eating out. He's begging to go down on you let him

Sanji: would never say periods are gross (nothing a woman does could be gross he says) but women bleeding freak him out, periods do the same. No period sex, however he would pamper you with carefully timed deliveries of chocolate hot drinks and heating pads around the clock.

Ussop: blood freaks him out so period sex is too freaky for him but he's super normal about periods so he can buy you tampons and bring you midol without it being a disaster or a whole event.

Nami: doesn't like period sex, she personally finds it gross. However she wouldn't mind watching you jack off during yours if it helped. She just doesn't really wanna get blood on her.

Robin: She's a freak, of course she's into it.

Franky: He's a freak who did his own abdominal surgery in a floating scrap yard periods don't even register as gross to him. He's down if you ask. Not really into eating out though.

Jinbe: maybe

Marco: into it and would in fact suggest a good orgasm for pain relief, but he prefers to use his fingers and to lay a towel down for easy clean up. Not into eating you out on it but okay with p in v

Ace: Would never turn down a chance to eat you out. He's definitely eaten weirder and grosser things so period blood is nbd. He also really gets turned on by being used for someone else's pleasure and relief so he might actually discover a new kink. Always forgets to put down a towel.

Thatch: Honestly, kind of scared of periods. As they say anything that bleeds for five days and doesn't die shouldn't be trusted. He's extra nice to you on your period.

Izou: Doesn't like how messy it is. Not for it.

Crocodile: Not interested, but would let you rub yourself off on his thigh if you begged him to give you relief.

Doflamingo: would eat you out on your period in some sort of weird romantic cannibal possessive shit.

Buggy: scared

Shanks: not NOT into it, but not into it either. He'll try anything at least once, and if it so happens you're on your period when he wants to fuck or you ask him to help you out he'll go for it.

Mihawk: does it purely to maintain his goth vampire aesthetic

Law: not into it per se, but into making you come and helping you when you ask because he wuvs you. Would wear exam gloves and finger you

Kidd: would say its gross and he wouldn't but if you implied he was afraid of a little blood he would do it just to spite you. My favorite thing about kid is that he's easy to manipulate

Killer: blood kink, nuf said. Actually, I have more- likes when you sit on his face and dominant women, this is ideal for him.

#i stand by everything ive said here #mine #my writing #one piece smut #one piece headcanons #x reader #reader insert

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vettelsvee · 13 days

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LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU | Mick Schumacher

f1 masterlist

mick x uni!reader

word count: 1602

warnings: mention of period cramps, reader being sick, just fluff and cute in general (i think). use of y/n y/l/n

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback is truly appreciated! <3

University was not an easy path to tread, and much less so if you were studying Medicine.

Y/N Y/L/N sat at her small desk, curled up in her chair as she gazed at the plethora of notes and books from different subjects overflowing the tiny space. With her eyes fixed on a Gynecology topic, her favorite subject, she attempted to summon concentration, failing in the attempt because it was undeniable that something was wrong with her.

The truth was unquestionable that the Swedish girl wasn't feeling well because it wasn't just the stress of final exams consuming her: her period had decided to arrive that same early morning, greeting her with a strong abdominal pain that had barely allowed her to sleep; apart from that, just a few hours after managing to fall asleep, she was awakened by sweats.

In those moments, the girl was aware that she needed to stop because she felt exhausted, the headache was getting heavier, and discomfort was increasingly present in her body. All of that was starting to take its toll on her, but she couldn't afford to give up everything when there were just a few days left until the start of the end-of-term holiday.

Come on, Y/N, she thought to herself as a sharp pain made itself known in her abdomen. You're strong, capable of this and much more.

Suddenly, as if destiny were alerting her to take a break, her mobile phone began to vibrate, indicating an incoming video call with Mick.

"Hey, Mick," the young woman responded after accepting the call, her voice subdued.

Schumacher sensed that something wasn't going well for his partner.

"Hey, love," he responded sweetly, showing concern, "what's wrong?"

Y/N sighed, trying her best to hide the truth from her boyfriend, who already had enough worries as the Mercedes reserve driver to now concern himself with a simple ailment. She timidly ran her hand over her forehead, feeling the temperature starting to rise.

"Mick, really, it's nothing..."

"Y/N," the boy interrupted her, "you have bright eyes, accompanied by quite concerning dark circles. Have you been studying all night?"

Y/L/N hated that the son of a certain seven-time world champion driver knew her so well.

"No," she affirmed, "but I'm not feeling very well. This final exam season is killing me, almost literally, because the subjects are very difficult, and I feel like I'm not cut out for what I'm studying. And also add to that that last night my fantastic period started, and if that wasn't enough, I started to get a fever."

"Have you been to the doctor?" Schumacher asked, even though he knew the answer.

"No, I haven't had time either," the brunette responded curtly. "Please, Mick, I've been studying almost twelve hours a day for almost three weeks. I'm trying to study as much as possible, and I feel less and less capable of passing the subjects."

Mick nodded, understanding.

"I get it, even though I haven't been through the same thing as you, but you can't ignore the signals your body is sending you. You come first, and even though it's hard for you to accept it and deny it to me, exams can wait."

"No, honey, no," Y/N shook her head, affirming what Mick was thinking. "I've been trying to study, but all I've done is reread the notes over and over."

"Well, then focus on resting even if it's just this afternoon, okay? Don't worry about anything, your recovery comes first, darling."

As the conversation between the couple progressed, they began to talk about more mundane topics, such as the couple's upcoming vacation destination or the status of the boy's family.

Once they finished the call, and without much thought, Mick decided to prepare a surprise for his girlfriend to help her calm down as much as possible so she could recover as soon as possible. Therefore, he left his house without explaining to anyone and immediately got into his car, heading to the nearest shopping center.

With a mischievous smile on his face as he crossed the doors of the venue, Schumacher quickly made his way to get what he had planned to buy so he could pay for it as soon as possible and then quickly get to Y/N's house. After passing through the self-checkout with a large amount of her favorite chocolates, a bouquet of tulips, and a book she had been eager to have, he put everything in a paper bag decorated with kittens and headed back to his car.

As he was on his way to his girlfriend's house, Mick thought about the surprise and joy that would bring to Y/N as soon as she saw him standing in front of her door. The young man knew that, in terms of what he could give her, it wasn't much; but he was sure that what would make Clara happiest was the thoughtfulness and effort that the reserve driver had put into it.

After parking in a nearby parking lot near the apartment building where the girl lived, Mick took the bag and his nerves began to grow, although he walked towards the house with determination. Once he arrived, he placed the bag behind his back, so it wouldn't be visible at first, and stealthily knocked on the door.

"Seriously, if you're someone here to sell me an air fryer, I don't want it, okay? I'm a humble student living off scholarships..."

When Y/N opened the door, she couldn't articulate a word: seeing her boyfriend standing there, in front of her, was certainly not what she expected on that fateful day. Her eyes filled with joy, and tears even welled up.

"Mick!" the brunette exclaimed as she gave him a tight hug. "What are you doing here?" she asked, unable to contain her smile.

After finishing the warm hug, the boy handed her the bag, which Y/N began to open quickly and took out each of the items it contained. As she unpacked, the young man went to get a vase for the flowers so they wouldn't dry out.

"Can't a humble boy from a humble family want to surprise his wonderful girlfriend to lift her spirits?" the young man said as he spoke, while Y/N fetched a vase for the flowers.

Yeah, especially humble..., Y/N muttered to herself.

"You're amazing, Mick," the girl commented, hugging her gifts affectionately. "I can't believe you did this for me despite me talking to you like crap."

The boy moved closer to his partner, taking her hand lovingly.

"Well, I guess that's what you sign up for when you start a relationship, right?" he explained ironically, receiving a playful punch in his arm from Y/N. "But that's not all: I'm going to prepare a bath for you to relax while I make you dinner, okay?"

She approved of the plan because, after trying to continue studying, she hadn't been able to carry on. Her body continued with persistent warnings, to the point where she had noticed small contractions in her chest and even slight dizziness.

With Mick's help, once in the bathroom, she undressed as the water slowly but steadily filled the tub. As soon as the university student's feet touched the warm water, she tried to forget everything during those moments, which she successfully achieved by submerging her body.

Meanwhile, the driver started preparing her girlfriend's favorite dinner: grilled salmon with soy sauce. Despite having little experience in the culinary world, he followed a recipe he found on YouTube step by step, trying not to get frustrated and following everything meticulously. Since Clara hadn't come out yet and he had already prepared everything, he decided to find a series on Netflix that they had both been meaning to watch for some time.

Y/N emerged from the bathroom wearing only a bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her wet hair. If she thought her day couldn't get any better, everything Mick had prepared had immediately changed her mind. Mick just looked at her: he knew the girl was excited, and her eyes, though tired, reflected an emotion he had seen when he prepared these kinds of details.

"Come on, sit down, princess," the boy invited, pulling out the chair for her to sit. "All of this is for you, so just enjoy the food, even if it's not very good, and forget about everything."

Although her boyfriend was right and it wasn't by any means the best meal she had ever tasted, she appreciated the effort he had made to turn her day around; besides, the conversations, encouragement, support, and laughter they shared were the best she could accept from Mick.

After cleaning up the mess, the couple lay down on the girl's bed. Y/N rested her head on Mick's chest, and he gently stroked her hair. In those moments, there was no need for words or any other action to know how the other felt at that moment.

Y/N Y/L/N felt secure and, especially, calm, caring less and less about everything she had to study, Mick was aware that he was risking catching a cold, something that wouldn't bode well for his profession, but at that moment it was the least of his concerns. Minutes later, embraced by the warmth of the blankets and each other's arms, sleep invited them to join its embrace.

"Tomorrow will be a better day, especially if I have Mick by my side," wandered through Y/N's mind before Morpheus embraced her in his arms.

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doctorjockguy · 22 days

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New Patient Physical Exam - Abdominal Auscultation.

#doctor #medical #medfet #abdominal exam #belly #auscultation #stething #stethoscope #abdomen

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sluttywoozi · 2 years

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Buy A Boyfriend || chs x reader

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: Being a professional boyfriend on SVTHub is great - all Vernon has to do is respond to a few texts, send out a couple selfies, do a stream every now and then, and he makes enough to cover tuition. Things get a little tricky when he finds himself wishing he actually was your boyfriend.

Rating: M (18+) | Word Count: 4kish

Content Notes: voice kink, male masturbation, swearing, he is a virtual boyfriend for money, the texts will probs look like ass on mobile, gender neutral reader, reader has cats and I borrowed @sluttywonwoo 's cats bc im their aunt and I love them (sorry if u have your own, please imagine them 😭), they dont have sex (in this part) my bad, reader is a stem major bc I live to project, I think that’s it pls let me know if I missed anything!!

Vernon’s username: bandsboyvern

Reader’s username: allthoughtsheadfull

Vernon sighs as he opens up SVTHub, knowing he has at least three messages that ask, “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

His answer will, of course, be “Yes and I would make you a cute little worm house in a jar and take you with me everywhere,” when he really wants to say, ”No I wouldn’t, because I don't know you at all and worms have a very short life expectancy.”

But this is the life he’s created for himself; getting paid to act like a boyfriend comes with answering cliche boyfriend questions. He’s scrolling through messages, answering good morning and goodnight texts with an appropriate selfie, when one message catches his eye, or actually, wow, 5 messages, all from one person.

Vernon tilts his head, considering how to answer. It’s a bit weird that you sought out a pretend boyfriend to tell these things to but he can’t say the messages aren’t more entertaining than the usual ones. And, honestly, snails are effervescent.

Vernon answers some messages from other users; badbitchesrus is having friend group drama again and he’s dying to tell her, “you’re the problem,” but a boyfriend wouldn’t say that so he just agrees, saying, “you’re so right, Jen did copy ur fit last night but u did it better baby.” He replies to a few selfies with paragraphs of fire and heart eye emojis, and sends out a couple ‘hope ur day gets better babygirl’s.

Clicking out of the app, Vernon tries to force himself to focus on studying. He’s got a music theory quiz this week and a sound design exam next week and he’s not prepared for either. His fingers tap out a rhythm on his knee as he runs over scales in his head, swearing to himself after missing the last sharp in B major for the fourth time. He’s about to pull out his keyboard for manual practice when his phone dings with a message, the tone telling him it's SVTHub. His head hits the back of his chair, hoping beyond hope it’s not another worm message, and he smiles in surprise when he sees it’s from you.

thought 5: legally blonde is peak cinema and has something for everyone so whyyyy is it universally disliked

Vernon tilts his head, realizing that even though he’d never seen Legally Blonde, he did dislike it for some reason. Huh.

His phone goes off again, another thought from you.

thought 6: why did stephanie name it twilight and then have bella meet edward in the daytime

He hasn’t seen Twilight either but, honestly, you bring up a good point. Why name it a certain time of day and then not have them meet at that time?

Happy to be distracted, Vernon settles in to ask you some questions and hopefully get some movie recommendations.

Before Vernon can respond, he gets another message, from bbygrill99 this time. She’s requesting an ab pic, her third this week, and he wonders why she’s so obsessed with his abs when his ass is great too, but complies nonetheless. Lifting his shirt, he tenses his abdominals and tilts his phone to get the perfect angle, his bottom lip just barely in frame and his gray sweats sitting low on his hips. He’s been trying to drink more water because apparently you need it to survive, so his abs aren’t as defined as usual and he hopes she doesn’t say anything. He sends the picture out with a kiss emoji and saves it to his folder of lewds, hoping he’ll be able to reuse it.

He’s very intrigued by the idea of threats to increase productivity, and asks you more questions. This turns out to be counterproductive as it leads to a whole conversation that makes him laugh all the way through, and consequently, he doesn’t get any more work done.

It’s almost time for his weekly goodnight stream, and Vernon’s still thinking about your last conversation. You’d lured him into a debate about living as a pigeon or living with pigeons, and he still wasn’t sure who’d won. You hadn’t sent him any new thoughts today, and even though you’d just become a subscriber last week, he’s missing you for some reason. He really enjoyed the randomness of your brain, and hearing what was going on in there throughout the day. It was a nice break from pretending to be the perfect boyfriend, and he got to respond like he wanted, not like he thought he should.

Starting the stream, he settles into bed and begins telling his patrons about his day, pausing at certain moments to let them respond to him. On their screens, it just looks like a personal facetime, and they get to pretend he’s talking to them and them alone. He tries not to frown when he realizes you haven’t joined, and hopes you will soon; you were the one person he actually wanted to say goodnight to.

You don’t join, and Vernon goes to bed sad and confused. Why were you paying for this if you weren’t going to use your membership to the fullest? His subscribers loved the introduction of goodnight streams, some are even asking for good morning streams too. You also hadn’t asked him for any pictures yet, even though everyone was allowed three per day. Maybe you just hadn’t read the membership benefits when you joined and didn’t know? He should probably ask, right? Just to be sure you’re getting your money’s worth.

Vernon gasps, staring down at his phone in awe.

A cat picture. You've sent him a cat picture. A picture of a cat. Your cat, presumably.

Vernon’s heart stutters, his eyebrows raising.

damn.

He sighs in disbelief before setting his jaw in determination and deciding the perfect combination and sequence of emojis to convey his true feelings.

Vernon puts the phone down for a moment as he remembers what you’d first said about your cats. One likes you too much and one doesn’t like you at all. He wonders which is which, they're both looking at you with such love.

He’s spinning in his desk chair, zoning out a little, when his eyes hit the open sound design program on his desktop.

Fuck, he has an exam tomorrow.

Vernon’s mouth stretches in a smile, his kicking feet sending him on a giddy spin in his chair. Putting his phone on Do Not Disturb, he forces himself to focus.

Vernon is sitting in his Audio Mastering Techniques class when you text him. He was already struggling to focus, fingers drumming on the table and leg bouncing under it, his neighbor sending a glare over every few minutes. He tries his best not to check, but you'd promised him your first thought and he wants to see what it is!

Glancing around surreptitiously, Vernon opens SVTHub with his phone under the table. You'd never sent him an explicit message before but there's a first time for everything (Vernon hopes).

Vernon looks up organic chemistry practice problems but sees ‘Stereospecificity in Addition Reactions’ and ‘Electrophilic Addition Reactions to Conjugated Dienes’ and immediately begins shaking his head, exiting out of the browser and texting you again.

Vernon’s heart starts racing as he reads your text. You want to call him. You want to speak words and you want him to listen and respond and then you’ll respond to his words.

Cool.

Vernon’s sitting at his desk, spinning around as the phone rings and rain pangs against the window.

“Hey! Sorry,” you sound out of breath, “it’s monsooning and i couldn’t text and hold the umbrella and keep my laptop out of the rain at the same time.”

“It’s okay, no worries. How’d the exam go? Did you cry?” He asks, only slightly worried.

“It went well, I think! I did cry but just a little and I didn’t get it on the exam paper this time, thank goodness.”

You tell him more about the exam and he just listens, absorbing your voice and tone and cadence. He wants to record you, wishes he could listen to you all the time, your voice is so entrancing.

“Did you have your midterm yet?” You ask sweetly, sounding concerned.

This startles Vernon out of his trance and he has to ask himself if he has taken his midterm yet today, and sighs in relief when he realizes he has a few hours left to go.

“Nah, it’s not till later so i’m just studying and vibing.”

Vernon chats more with you, trying to imagine what you look like and wishing patrons had a profile picture like he does, before he realizes it’s been an hour and he should get focused. Promising to call you after his exam and wishing he could just take you with him in his pocket, he hangs up.

Vernon does call you after his exam, and he calls you the next day too, and the next. It’s easier than ever for him to respond to messages, romantic words flowing and streams getting more and more popular. He just pretends he’s talking to you and it always works. You haven’t joined one of his streams yet but he’s holding out hope, and secretly wishing that you’d request a private videocall. You still haven’t asked for any selfies but he finds himself sending them anyway, hoping someday you’ll send one back.

He’s getting ready for his bedtime stream when he starts thinking about your last phone call, just a few hours ago. You’d just woken up from a nap, sounding all raspy and sleepy and cute, and he tried to picture your face, cheek lined with pillow creases. He doesn’t remember what you’d talked about because he couldn’t focus on anything but your voice, soft and sweet in his ear. He pictures you, laying in bed next to him, your head on his chest or his on yours, your legs tangled up with his own. He can’t help but imagine your fingers trailing over the ridges of his abdomen, running up and down his chest, and his own fingers start to follow.

Vernon thinks about your fingers moving lower, running along his waistband and dipping beneath. But you’re a tease, and they slip out and over the fabric of his sweats, pressing down where he’s starting to grow hard. He rubs his palm over his dick, squeezing harder the closer he gets to the head, imagining your giggle when his hips buck up. His phone goes off, startling him out of his fantasy and reminding him he has a stream to start.

He hasn’t done one like this in a while but the tips are always insane and he really wants to buy the lego set you told him you did the other day, so he shrugs and presses the red record button on his phone.

“Hey baby, it's so good to see you. How are you?” Vernon pauses to let his viewers answer, thinking about how you’d respond.

“I had a busy day, midterms finished last week but I have a project due soon and I haven’t made a lot of progress on it,” he hears you scold him in his head, telling him to get a move on.

“But I’m really tired, and i just wanna relax. Think you could help me?” Vernon asks, setting his phone down to pull off his shirt, missing the little notification popping up to say you’d joined. He smiles softly into the camera as he picks it back up, sliding on the bed to rest his head on the pillows. He pans the camera down to show his abs, running his fingers down his chest to settle at his waistband, pretending they’re yours. The tips start rolling in and he mutes his phone, the dinging sound beginning to annoy him.

Vernon tries to find that fantasy again, the one where you’re in bed with him and touching him and talking to him, and slips his hand into his sweats, fingers wrapping around his hard cock. He sighs, pulling his dick out and rubbing his palm over the head, his hips jerking at the friction. Leaning over to dig around his bedside table for some lube, Vernon wonders what you’re doing right now. He opens the cap and dribbles some onto his length, smearing it around with his hand. It’s chilly but he just tells himself your hand is cold, and starts squeezing his cock, pulling a little when he gets to the head. A punched out moan leaves his chest, lube warming up and dick getting harder.

It feels better than usual for some reason, but Vernon isn’t willing to think about why at the moment, and keeps jerking his cock. He’s panting a bit now, staring into the camera with half-lidded eyes and lip bitten between his teeth, feeling his abs tense with every pull. Closing his eyes so he can picture your hand moving on him, he tilts his head back into the pillow, wishing he could moan your name.

The heat is starting to rise in his stomach, his hips bucking into the movements of his hand, and he knows he’s getting close. He really is tired so he doesn’t try to draw it out, just squeezes at the head harder and tries not to whine at the pressure. He thinks about your hands on him, god, your mouth on him, and imagines your voice telling him to cum.

Vernon almost drops the phone on his chest with the force of his orgasm, trying to decide if he should turn the camera to show the cum shooting out of his cock and pooling in the ridges of his abs. He leaves it facing him instead, knowing his face is screwed up in pleasure and his moans are echoing throughout the room. Staring at the ceiling, Vernon tries to catch his breath and wonders why he just came so hard. He can feel his eyelids drooping, mind going hazy with sleep and oxytocin, and blows a kiss into the camera, saying goodnight.

You haven’t texted him in a week.

Vernon’s messaged you, selfies and thoughts and questions, but you haven't responded. He even checked your profile, just to make sure you hadn’t canceled your membership. He doesn’t know what to do; you’ve only been a subscriber for a couple months and you’ve only been gone a week, but he misses you. He misses waking up to a random philosophical question from you, or a picture of your latest A, or a video of your cats play(?) fighting.

But Vernon also doesn’t want to bother you, or overwhelm you, so he’s cooled it down a bit. He only texted you once yesterday, and he hasn’t texted you at all today. He just wishes he knew you’re okay, that nothing bad has happened to you, that you’ll come back. He knows now that being a pretend boyfriend is no fun if you don’t have someone whose boyfriend you want to be.

For now, he’ll just keep checking his phone and hoping to see a message from you.

Vernon's knee bounces, jaw clenching as he listens to the phone ring, waiting for you to pick up. He can't wait to hear your voice, it hasn't even been two weeks but that's more than long enough for him. You just soothe him, quiet his brain and still his hands. He's not sure if it's how gently you speak, or how your voice feels like a soft, warm blanket right out of the dryer, or how your words slide over him like silk, but he's missed you and as soon as you pick up and say hello, it's like his entire body relaxes.

He chats with you a bit, catching up on your classes and telling you about the work he's done for his project (little to none), letting you scold him for having done no work on his project and enjoying it.

The conversation draws to a natural conclusion, both of you having exhausted every possible topic in an effort to avoid the reason for the call. Vernon takes a deep breath and tries to steel himself; he's never been good with uncomfortable situations or feelings talk but he's willing to try, for you.

"So, you thought this was like a... pen pal situation? Didn't you have to put in your ID to prove you're over 18?"

"Well, yes, but I thought it was just so we could talk about adult topics, not because it's porn!"

Vernon blanches, he hadn't really thought about the fact that he was basically a porn star and he's not sure how he feels about it. He's not ashamed, sex is normal and human and he needs to make money somehow, but he does wonder how much longer he'll want to keep doing this. It's not easy to act like a boyfriend to so many people at once when he knows there's only one person he wants. And he does know it now, he wants you.

"Does it make you uncomfortable? That I do this?" Vernon worries, knowing he doesn't want to stop but also knowing he doesn't want to lose you.

"No, I mean, a job is a job and you get to make your own schedule and devote all your focus to school. It seems like a great gig, and you're good at it obviously..." You trail off, sounding sad for some reason. He hasn't heard you like this before, your voice a bit thready and foggy, like you're suppressing tears.

"What's wrong?" Vernon asks urgently, becoming more and more concerned with every sniffle that escapes you.

You stay silent for a while, Vernon tries to be patient but he can hear your breath catching, and he's about to start crying too just so you don't cry alone. He breathes out your name, hoping you'll respond.

"Ugh, I just-" you stop yourself, sounding... embarrassed?

"I..." you take what sounds like a very deep breath, and Vernon feels like he's at the edge of a cliff, just waiting to jump.

"I like you! I like when you call me babe and flirt with me and call me and I liked the face you made when you came and I liked how you sounded and then I wanted to make you sound like that! But this is your literal job, acting like a boyfriend, and I didn't know that so I let myself have a crush on you not knowing that it was all fake!"

It takes Vernon a second to process what you said, you'd said it all in one breath and spoken so fast, your voice shaking with the cutest mix of nerves and annoyance.

"Nononononononono!!! It wasn't fake! It was fake with everyone else but never with you," Vernon spits out in a rush, desperate to make you understand. He's pacing in his room now, phone pressed to his ear, arms crossed and fingers taptaptapping at his elbow. He wonders what he can say to make you believe him, to make sure you know that you've always been different, been special, to him.

"I look forward to your thoughts every day. Whenever you text me, I literally kick my feet like a little kid. Every time I streamed - they're not all like that, by the way - I couldn't stop checking to see if you'd joined. Patrons can only ask for three selfies a day, I send you like five, unprompted-" he could go on, but you interrupt him with a call of his name. He's not sure he's heard it on your lips before, but it does something to him. Something that's very inconvenient for him to deal with now, during this very emotional conversation. He's tempted to send you a picture, maybe that will convince you.

"Vernon," you call again, bringing his focus back to your voice and away from what your voice was doing to him.

"So, what are you saying?" you continue, starting to sound a bit less sad and a bit more like yourself.

"I'm saying I want to be your actual boyfriend, and not for money, so you'll have to cancel your membership, sorry."

There's silence for a few beats; Vernon feels himself teetering on the cliff again as he waits for your response.

"I mean- is that... allowed?" You seem unsure, sounding slightly hopeful but a bit apprehensive still. He wishes he could see your face, wishes he knew what you look like at all (knowing would definitely help at nighttime or in the shower or when he wakes up for ... reasons). He shakes his head to bring himself back to the conversation before you notice that his mind had wandered.

"Yea, I mean, my friend does cam shows with his partner and another friend of mine found out his roommate was watching his shows and now they fuck everyday! That could be us!" Vernon tries to reassure you, hoping you're willing to at least try.

"Ummmmm I don't know about that just yet but we could try... dating, I guess? It may be difficult just online but I like you and you say you like me so, why not?"

Vernon thinks that if he jumped out of his window right now, he just might fly. He won't because he's not trying to die now that you're letting him be your boyfriend, but the feeling is there.

"Yes! I do like you, I like you a lot. I like you so much. Please date me." He knows he's practically begging at this point, but he doesn't care. Vernon's willing to beg, on his knees if he needs to, if it means he can be your boyfriend for real.

"Okay! Okay," you giggle, a bit muffled as if you're covering your mouth. "I'll date you if you date me?"

Vernon can't contain his grin, spinning in circles around his room even though he's already dizzy.

"Deal."

Vernon squints, sitting in his 9 am and staring down at the purple pen in his hand, the one he’d found sitting on the desk when he came in.

There’s no way though, right?

Right?

Vernon tries not to freak out as he looks under the desk to find a water bottle. One with your name on it.

Vernon has a choice to make. He could sit here, try to focus on class, while he thinks about you somewhere on campus, struggling through an exam and dehydrated and sad. Or …

Not on my watch, Vernon thinks, shooting up from the desk and grabbing his stuff and yours. He’s jogging across campus before he knows it, dodging frisbees and dogs on the green, weaving through hammocks and hopping over sleeping students. He’s not sure what lecture hall you’re in but he knows the chemistry building, and if he books it, he’s sure he can make it.

He’s speedwalking down the hall, peeking in windows and listening at doors, trying to find your class. His eyes catch a paper taped to a door, warning, “EXAM AT 915. DO NOT DISTURB.”

He could jump in glee but, glancing at his phone and seeing that it’s 9:10, he knows he doesn’t have time.

Vernon’s hoping, praying you’ll listen to him when the door opens a smidge, and the most beautiful face he’s ever seen peeks through. It's like heaven’s light is shining down on him, he thinks he can hear angels, and is that wind? Blowing through his hair?

Staring back at him, your eyes shoot open in disbelief, before landing on your pen and water bottle in his hands. You squeal, bouncing in your shoes and throwing your arms around his neck. He breathes you in, reeling at the weight of your body against his, and you pull back before he can return your embrace. Vernon misses you instantly but he knows you have to go be a genius so, handing you the water and pen, he accepts a kiss on the cheek and watches you leave.

Hiiii!! Would love to know your thoughts, whether they come in a like, reblog, comment, or ask! Please feel free to come talk to me i will cry and smile all day!! Planning a pt 2 for this but i'm hoping to get pt 2 of like a cowboy out first!

Part 2

And check out the rest of SVTHub! A good few fics are out and you’ll still have something to look forward to as more will be posted over the next few weeks ☺️

I am so grateful to @sapphichui for trusting me with this and I’ve had such a great time collaborating with and getting to know other awesome authors on here!

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peterman-spideyparker · 10 months

Text

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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