#college!matt x reader

[murdock-and-the-sea]

nepenthe · matt murdock x reader

nepenthe (n.)

something that can make you forget grief or suffering

pairing: college!matt x reader

word count: 2k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI. angst, feeling sick, mentions of blood tests, fear of needles, reader struggling with weight gain and body image

a/n: Self-indulgence? What is THAT? Ahahaha. Hahaha. Haaa... ಥ_ಥ Also pls excuse my rust af writing.

Divider by @firefly-graphics.

Matt was angry at himself for not noticing it sooner. But something was definitely off with you today from the start.

First, you missed your morning classes, which you never did unless you had a good reason to. You loved Criminal Law, fighting your way to the front row and took pride in the fact that everyone turned to you when they needed notes. But even after the first break, you were a no-show, so he tried calling you several times.

When you didn’t pick up, he managed to get Foggy to send you a text, asking if everything was ok. He tried not to show it, but he was getting worried, too. Which only drove home the point that this was very uncharacteristic of you. In the middle of your next class, the phone dinged with a message, apologizing and letting the both of them know you were on your way.

Not ten minutes later, in the middle of Legal Research, you awkwardly creeped in through the door, much to the vexation of the professor, who merely huffed at you for interrupting his speech. You sneaked a shy wave towards them and took the first empty seat you could find.

Foggy leaned in close, whispering to him about how pale and tired you looked; and he could feel it, too. Anxiety was practically oozing out of you, and you were drinking an awful lot of water.

“You think they're sick?” Foggy asked, but Matt wasn’t sure. It didn’t seem like you had a fever.

But he would get to the bottom of this.

After class, you tried to play it cool and brush it off. All you were willing to say was that you had a doctor’s appointment. “Just a checkup,” you reassured, and it wasn’t a lie, technically. But Matt could tell you were skidding around the truth, though he refrained from pushing you too hard.

It wasn’t until you were all walking across the campus that he reached the end of his patience. Foggy was animatedly telling you about what you missed that morning when you stumbled and fell over, almost dragging Matt down with you. He managed to grab your arm just in time, pulling you up and Foggy rushing over to your other side to help.

You really didn’t mean to. You specifically wanted to avoid telling them anything because you didn’t want to make them worry. But your stupid appointment left you lightheaded and dizzy, and it was hot and Foggy was talking and you tried to pay attention, barely hearing him over the ringing in your ears… Next thing you know, you were yanked up by Matt just in time to keep you from hitting the ground.

Foggy was ready to run for the nurse, but you managed to convince them there was no need for that, and that you just got dizzy. Matt was annoyed, you could tell. Curtly, he demanded you explain, but only after you had something to drink and layed down. Their dorms were closer and reluctantly, you let them take you to their shared room, guarding you from both sides despite your protests. This is exactly what you wanted to avoid, but fighting them was pointless.

Now, you were laying on your back across Matt’s bed, eyes closed as you tried to relax and even your breathing. He sat down next to you, the bed dipping under his weight.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” he asked, sounding more hurt than angry.

You opened your eyes, heaving a big sigh as you stared up at the ceiling. “Because it was just a blood test, it wasn’t supposed to be a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? They stabbed you three times, like a pin cushion!” Foggy exclaimed. He was sitting across the room on his own bed but you could feel his worried gaze - the both of their gazes - as if they were waiting for you to inevitably get sick again.

“They had to take different samples. It was for an insulin test.” you said meekly. Absent-mindedly, your hands brushed over one of the small bruises on your arm.

Matt furrowed his brow. This was the first time he was hearing about this, unaware of you having any medical issues. “A what?”

“A 3-point insulin resistance test. It’s like,...” you paused, groaning internally.

You really didn’t mean to burden them with this, but after your fall, you supposed they deserved an explanation. You really gave them quite a scare. “First they take a blood sample to check your blood sugar. And then you have to drink this disgusting cup filled with a lot of sugar and a little water, and then they take another blood sample after an hour, and then another after two hours have passed. To see your insulin levels.”

“Is it for…?”

“It’s to check for diabetes, and insulin resistance, yeah.”

There was a bit of silence, Matt reaching out to take your hand in his, fingertips skimming over your skin soothingly. “Is everything okay?”

“You’re not ill, are you?” Foggy asked from the other end.

Gosh, you could cry from how sweet and caring and worried they were. But it made you feel so guilty.

“I’m not. I-I think.” There were a few tears brimming in your eyes already. It was so stupid. “I just.. I’m sorry. I just struggled with my weight recently, so I went to see a doctor and-”

“Sweetheart,” Matt interrupted, in the most tender way possible. “There’s nothing wrong with your-”

“No, no, I know. I know, okay?” You pulled your hand away, instinctively wrapping your arms around your body. You could see it hurt Matt, but he didn’t force you, wanting to give you space if you needed.

It was so bloody stupid.

“I know it’s not a big deal, and that it could be worse, but I was really struggling, and I wanted to feel better about myself. And I tried paying attention to what I was eating, but it just- i-it wasn’t doing anything?”

Matt’s mind was speeding, trying to remember if you’ve ever mentioned this to him. Vaguely, he recalled how you often skipped eating together these past few weeks, claiming that you already had lunch, or politely declined the snacks they offered to share.

He didn’t think it meant anything other than you not feeling hungry, but now… if Matt was angry at himself before, now he was furious for not noticing. He was about to scold you - as gently as possible - but Foggy beat him to it.

“You didn’t start one of those crazy diets, did you?!”

At least, his exclamation brought a weak smile to your face, however fleeting. “Nah, don’t worry. I’m smarter than that, at least. I just tried to get better food, and did all the stupid things like drinking more water, and going on walks. But even after a few months, it was just-”

How could you explain it to them? It was hard to grasp, even for you. It was like your body despised you, refusing to cooperate and instead, turning against you. Like it was ignoring the rules that applied to everybody else, clinging to everything you gave it, refusing to let go.

You knew it wasn’t healthy to think about it this way, but you had so many classmates who just looked better than you. Thinner. Prettier. More natural. And it was blood-boiling how they seemingly had it all figured out, eating what they wanted and worrying about it later.

When your thoughts were getting nastier, and you felt worse about yourself than ever before, you realized that maybe you need a little help. You sought out a dietitian, who, despite your initial fears, was very understanding and patient with you. She actually listened and took notes about your family history. When you mentioned your grandmother had diabetes and thyroid gland problems, she immediately suggested taking some tests.

You didn’t want to tell Matt because you’ve only been dating for a short while, already feeling guilty for having so much baggage. Even if deep down, you knew he would support you through this. He was truly so sweet and kind, along with Foggy.

In the end, you just sighed. “I just wanted to make sure I’m doing things right, and the doctor seemed nice when she suggested the test. But I swear, I wasn’t starving myself.”

“You still got pretty dizzy today, yeah?” Matt asked, opening his palm and with a smile, you slid your hand back, entwining your fingers with his.

“Yeah, I don’t handle blood tests too well. I don’t like the needles.”

Foggy snorted. “This is why you should have taken us. We could have blindfolded you in the waiting room so you didn’t have to see.”

Matt burst out in laughter so unexpectedly that it was contagious and, despite still feeling a little sick, you couldn’t help but laugh yourself.

“I’m not sure that would be a good thing to do, but, thanks, Foggy.”

“We really don’t mind going with you next time, you know.” Matt offered, gently squeezing your hand. “If you want.”

It was silly that they wouldn’t support you, now that you thought of it.

“It would be nice, yeah. Sorry for not telling you about it. I didn’t even know it was going to last this long, and I had to go on an empty stomach, and couldn’t drink or eat anything in-between the samples… it was hard.”

There was a pause.

“But you did eat after it, right?” Matt asked, voice stern.

Shit.

You quickly averted your gaze from him, only to be met with the deadliest glare you have ever seen from Foggy.

Shit.

“I was in a hurry to make it to class!”

“That’s no excuse!”

“But—!”

“Sweetheart, what were you thinking?”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t thinking!”

“You have to eat something, right now.”

You groaned in defeat, grabbing Matt’s pillow and pulling it over your head.

“Fine, I’ll go grab something from the cafeteria.” Foggy said, climbing off his bed. “Matt, make sure they stay here.”

“I’m not a prisoner, Foggy!” You exclaimed, throwing the pillow in his general direction.

“Oh, you’re staying sweetheart, don’t worry.”

Once Foggy left, you promptly climbed over so you could lay your head in Matt’s lap, wrapping your arms around his waist. He chuckled, rubbing your back.

“You know we’re only doing this for you, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, you are both mother hens, I know.” You mumbled, pressing your face against his shirt. You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent and letting it calm you.

After a little silence, Matt brushed his fingers over your cheeks lovingly. “You really scared me today.”

“I’m sorry, Matt. I really am.”

“It’s ok, sweetheart. I’m not angry. But please,” he said, voice so low as he almost pleaded with you. “Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t, I promise.” You held him a bit tighter, and you both fell to a comfortable, peaceful silence.

It was only interrupted by a knock on the door a few minutes later.

“I hope you guys are decent,” Foggy said, carefully opening the door “cause I don’t wanna drop these sandwiches.”

“Foggy!”

You couldn’t even get angry at them. Most of your guilt has evaporated when you saw how ready they were to help, and if you wanted to be truly honest with yourself, it felt good to be doted on a little.

They were more than ready to entertain you all afternoon but after eating, you still felt a little tired, so Matt walked you back to your own dorm room. You thanked him for everything they did, and of course, being the sweet guy he is, he brushed it off as nothing to worry about.

He waited until you got comfortable in bed, leaning to press a kiss to your forehead. “I will always love you, no matter what happens, angel. And if you want to feel better, or just more comfortable about yourself, I’ll be here with you through that too, okay?”

You barely managed to squeak out a reply, eyes teary but feeling so loved by him. He gave you one last, quick kiss goodbye before he left to let you rest.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #college!matt x reader #v's scribbles

[starniolosposts]

invite (1)

part one, part two

pairing: chris sturniolo x reader

summary: the popular frat boy, chris sturniolo, unexpectedly invites you, the shy and quiet girl, to his frat party.

warnings: shy/unpopular reader, confident/frat boy chris (but he’s still sweet), chris defends you 🤩, pretty long and will have a part two which is the final part

notes: SMUT IS IN THE NEXT PART (you could just read the next part for the smut but this one has all the tension leading up to it hehe;) )

not proofread/edited

“hey.”

you practically jump out of your seat from the voice in front of you, interrupting your study time in the silent library. you shrink into yourself in embarrassment at your reaction, and are even more mortified when its chris sturniolo standing in front of you.

chris grins and leans over the table, hair falling into his face as he scans the study page your on. “seems hard. whats your major again?”

you gulp, throat suddenly turning dry. you don’t answer, honestly kind of scared of saying the wrong or humiliating thing to the one boy you’ve been admiring from afar since college started.

he tilts his head and locks eyes with you, “so you don’t really speak, do you? i’ve never heard you talk before.” he observes, and you bit your lip.

“…i do talk.” you finally manage to say, avoiding anymore eye contact.

chris chuckles before pulling out the chair across from you and sitting down.

your heart rate picks up and you pray that he wont be staying for long. not because of him, but because then you have less of a chance of embarrassing yourself in front of him.

“so, whats your major?” he asks again, and he actually seems interested.

“oh, its animal science. i also minor in biology.” you whisper, seeing the librarian glance over at you both. chris obviously doesn’t care if he’s loud, since he responds with his normal volume.

“oh shit, so you’re smart smart.”

you blush and shrug, tapping your pencil on your notebook. “not really.”

chris smirks. “how humble of you. anyway, i have another question. what are you doing this saturday?”

your eyes widen as you glance up at him, stomach tingling with butterflies. why did that sound like he was asking you out? you bit the inside of your cheek in thought. you should study for an upcoming exam… you shake your head, “i don’t have anything on saturday.”

“perfect. i have a frat party that starts at 7 pm, but show up whenever you want.” chris exclaims, seemingly very pleased as he leans back in his chair.

you blink and then feel a sense of dread in your stomach instead of butterflies. “oh—uhm… i don’t really do parties.” you sheepishly mutter. what you didn’t want to admit was how you have never even gone to a party, nor have been invited to one.

chris smiles charmingly as he looks at you, and you feel so exposed and flustered. “i can tell. its alright if you don’t want to go, i just thought it’d invite you. you seem to study to much, your big brain needs a break.” he taps your study book as he tries to act unbothered.

you think for a moment, then blush blossoms your cheeks. “if i go, uhm, will i be able to stick by you then? i know i won’t really know anyone there.”

chris stares at you with an unreadable expression, his jaw squared and his eyes gleam. he finally nods. “of course. you can follow me around.”

you sigh through your nose and nod, the nerves already flowing through you. “okay.”

“you’ll go?”

“yeah, i think.”

saturday comes faster than normal, the anticipation of the frat party buzzing through you, and it even floats around the lectures you have. apparently a lot of people were going and it was going to be a huge party, everyone was looking forward to it.

while people were excited, you were kind of dreading it. what if chris abandons you and you’re left alone in a group of strangers? what if you trip and face-plant and everyone laughs at you? you shake your head, knowing you were overthinking.

you take a deep breath as you look at yourself in the mirror. this is the most you’ve ever dressed up, and you thought you looked okay. you wore a short, sparkly, black dress and your hair was curly down your back. no one had ever seen you with your hair down, so this was a big step. in the back of your mind you knew you were just trying to capture chris’ attention at least a little bit.

gathering up the courage, you grab your phone and make your way across campus and to the frat house. you can hear the music from a mile away and the flashing lights are prominent the more you get closer.

you glance at the time on your phone, 8 pm. you thought it was weird to show up exactly when the party started at 7, so you waited around for a while.

you tried not to think about how skin tight your dress was, or how short it was, or how your makeup looked. you pushed down your anxiety and tried to convince yourself you would have a good night. you walked inside, wincing slightly as the music was now clear and blaring in your ears.

your number one objective was to find chris, and fast. you looked around swiftly, dodging drunk people and catty girls side-eyeing you.

“y/n!”

you spun around and nervously wrung your wrists behind you, staring at chris as he walked up to you. “hi.”

chris’ jaw clenched as his eyes darted all over you. your hair, your face, your body. he blinked, wondering how you were the same person at the library a couple days ago. “you look great.” he finally says.

you smile shyly and look at his outfit. he wears baggy camo pants with a black long sleeve, a chain, and doesn’t wear his signature hat, so his hair is out and fluffy. he looks handsome as always, but you cant say that. “you too.” you meek out.

“i thought you skipped out, i was worried i would have to go to your dorm and drag you here.” he jokes and smiles, gesturing you to follow him.

you laugh softly and nod, following him into the kitchen with less people and muffled music. he grabs two red solo cups and fills both of them with something. he hands you one, then takes a sip of his.

you look at the contents inside the cup suspiciously, hesitate to try it.

chris looks down at you staring into your cup and chuckles. “don’t worry, i figured you don’t drink so its just lemonade.” he reassured, and you sigh in relief as you sip on it.

“thank you.”

“mhm. what made you agree to come?” chris asks suddenly, leaning against the counter, arms crossed with his cup still in his hand.

you gulp nervously, flustered as you stare at him. “can i be honest?” you ask, doing the same thing as him beside him.

he grins down at you and nods, “yeah.”

you fidget with your cup. “i’ve never been to a party, or invited to one. so when you asked i was nervous, but knowing i had you i was okay.” you blurt out, and you mentally slap yourself for saying so much.

chris is silent for a moment, and you want to run away and go back to your dorm, but then he nudges your shoulder with his elbow.

you look up at him and he smiles warmly. “hey, now that we talked and you came to my party, we’re best friends now. no need to be nervous when i’m here.”

you both stare at each other, and you swore he was leaning closer and glancing at your lips. unfortunately, a voice spoke up.

“chris, i love this party! beer pong was so much fun!” a girl strides in, b-lining straight towards him. she then looks at you weirdly, glancing at how close you were standing next to him.

chris nods at her and looks a little irritated, “good, it’s supposed to be fun.”

you awkwardly look down at your aching feet as they continue talking, this was your first time wearing heals for a long period of time.

the girl glances at you and then looks at chris with a look. “so, who’s she?” she asks as if your not there and she can ask you.

chris sighs and puts an arm around your back and his hand on your arm, making your eyes widen as heat filled you and goosebumps rise on your exposed skin. his hands are rough, but they are gentle with you. “this is y/n l/n, shes in our biology lecture. i convinced her to come.” your face feels hot as he says your full name, did you ever even tell him your last name? how did he know?

the girl hums and looks at you with a confused expression, “oh, i don’t remember ever seeing her. anywhere. but alright, i’m tory.” she smiles concededly. you try and smile back and nod at her in acknowledgment, “nice to meet you, tory. i like your dress.” you say. socializing and making friends is a little difficult for you, but you try your hardest. it didn’t seem to work as she looks you up and down and doesn’t say anything.

chris clears his throat and recognizes the tense situation and dislike from tory towards you, “tory, maybe we could ease off of her, yeah?” his eyes narrow at her, and you see his hand gripping onto his cup harder. you feel embarrassed, but at the same time you feel grateful and appreciated by chris, and its nice.

tory stares at chris in shock before scoffing under her breath, “whatever.” she walks away after that, going into the living room where the party is at.

chris finally takes his hand off of your arm, and you both don’t realize it but you think the same thing.

i miss his touch.

i miss touching her.

“…thanks for that.” you mutter, swirling your lemonade in your cup. chris nods and glares in the direction that tory walked off in. “i never liked her.” he explains, “in high school she dated my brother, matt. totally broke his heart and was so mentally draining towards everyone.”

you furrow your brows and frown, now wishing you weren’t nice to her in the first place. “i’m sorry.”

chris shakes his head and smirks down at you, making you slightly flush. “oh, don’t you worry. we got her back. pranked her for years on end and held blackmail against her.”

your eyes widen and then you laugh, an actual belly laugh. chris stares at you and then starts laughing as well. its just easy when it comes to you.

“its so bad, but i love it.” you giggle, then you ask, “you have a brother? does he go here?”

chris is ecstatic and proud, since he can tell your coming out of your shell around him. he likes it… he likes you. “kind of, i’m a triplet. both of them chose different colleges though.”

you tilt your head in shock, “really? thats so cool, are you all identical?”

his heart skips a beat at the sparkle in your eye and the curiosity in your voice. “sure are. they look exactly like me, but we all have our differences.”

you nod, “i understand.”

suddenly a guy shouts into the kitchen, “hey chris! come play a game with us!”

chris looks at you, and you shrug even if your freaking out inside. you liked hanging out and talking with chris, but with a huge group of people? not your thing.

chris scrutinizes you and states, “you don’t want to, i can tell.”

you silently nod but then shrug again, “i’m fine with playing, only if its with you though.” you look away from him to hide your blush.

he grins and nods before pushing off of the counter, setting his cup down. you do the same and closely follow behind him into the living room. the music is low now, and a group of people are in a circle on the ground or sitting in chairs/couches.

chris dabs people up and nods in acknowledgment at others, and you feel like everyone is staring at you as you follow him like a lost puppy. no one says hi to you.

you sit down next to chris on a loveseat, scooting down your dress uncomfortably. chris notices and swiftly gets up, goes to the front door, grabs his jacket off the hook, and then walks back over. you look at him confused until he laid his jacket over your legs and sat back down like he didn’t just do the nicest thing ever for you.

you feel your heart pumping fast and your veins turn hot. the little gesture made your thighs clench underneath the jacket that smelled like his cologne. glancing over at chris, it only makes you more aware of your attraction towards him. his arm is over the back of the loveseat, his legs spread slightly open as he leans back comfortably.

you feel dirty and flustered thinking about him like this, then snap out of it when someone speaks up from the group.

“alright, lets play the classic truth or dare.” a guy grins. everyone agrees and they start going around in a circle, asking random people. some of them do dares, but they aren’t regular dares, they are sexual. there was a three way kiss, stripping, and licking whip cream off of someones stomach.

your lower stomach only got hotter, the undeniable ache between your legs getting stronger. your mind always went back to chris for some reason, wondering what kissing him felt like, or how his tongue would feel licking whip cream off your skin. you shift, and your thankful for the jacket covering your legs since it blocked the view of your thighs clenching.

chris notices though . he always notices the little things about you. believe or not, he had been admiring you from afar as well. he couldn’t help it, he was drawn to you, the quiet girl in the back of the class. whenever he was in lecture, his eyes would drift to you and observe. he knows you bite your lip when your nervous or thinking, and he knows your leg bounces when your anxious. he knows that you secretly laugh at his jokes behind your hand and that you feed the stray cat that roams around campus. yeah, it was safe to say he liked you a lot, and he notices you.

“the girl beside chris.”

your head snaps up and you gulp nervously. its a blonde guy that smirks at you. “y-yeah?”

“truth or dare?”

“uhm, truth?” you say, but its more like a question. you really prayed it wasn’t anything embarrassing.

he thinks for a moment. “whats the worst thing that has happened to you during sex.”

chris clenched his jaw at the thought of you having sex with someone. its a weird thought, thinking of you with someone else other than himself.

your face immediately is red as you look down at chris’ jacket. you pick at the thread on it and clear your throat. “u-uhm… thats a little personal?”

“come on, don’t be a buzzkill!”

chris glared at the guy, “cut it out, clayton. if she doesn’t feel comfortable saying then don’t pressure her.” he glowers slightly, making clayton raise his eyebrows.

“its truth or dare, man. no outs. she has to answer.”

chris furrows his eyebrows and opens his mouth, but you cut him off. “i’ve never had sex, so i can’t answer.” your eyes are squeezed shut in embarrassment as you grip onto the jacket for comfort. everyone goes silent and you think this is the moment you want the ground to swallow you whole.

chris blinks at you with wide eyes then his jaw is set and his eyes turn dark. his pants are starting to get tighter than before and his hand clutches onto the back of the loveseat. “fuck.” he hisses out, but he made sure he was quiet.

“wait, so you’re a virgin in college? have you even had your first kiss?” tory asks, crossing her arms in amusement. she was milking your humiliation for all its worth.

you tilt your head down and dont answer, which makes her laugh slightly. “wow, so your really inexperienced. how are you even here at this party?”

“tory, stop. i’m serious. i still have those screenshots in my hard drive.” chris speaks up and threatens, looking her straight in the eyes. it makes you peak your eyes open to look over at him. he smiled reassuringly at you, and it makes you feel a lot better, and a lot more needy.

“…lets just move on.” a random girl says, chuckling nervously.

the game continues, and chris lowers his voice to speak to you with no one listening. “are you okay? im sorry that was pressured out of you, ill kill clayton.”

you shake your head, “its fine.” you whisper.

“no, its not. especially with what tory said.” he grunts out then sighs. “i’m sorry.”

you hesitate, but scoot closer to him and smile gently. “its alright. thank you for defending me, not a lot of people do.” you hadn’t meant for it to come out so sad and lonely sounding.

chris bites his lip before nodding, “yeah, of course.” he breaths out.

your eyes dart to his, and you catch a glimpse of desire you had been looking for. your chest heaves slightly harder, your stomach burns, and your eyes glance to his lips.

“…follow me.” he abruptly stands and holds out his hand for you. you knew what would happen if you took his hand and followed him, but you wanted it too happen. you’ve never felt such an easy and instant connection as you have with him, so you don’t hesitate to grab his hand and leave his jacket behind.

some people stare in shock as he takes you up the stairs, but you can only stare at him.

chris quickly takes you to a bedroom and closed/locks the door behind the both of you. he backs you into the wall, hands coming up to slowly grip onto your hips. you nervously look up at him, not knowing what to say or do. you’ve never been touched like this by someone you liked, and it was building up a fire in you that burned your core. the desire for him was too much, you wanted him now.

he gazes down at you with dark eyes. “i’m so glad you came to this party.” he sighs out, his hands slithering around to rest on your lower back, sinfully close to your ass.

your breathing heavily, your hands clenching onto his biceps as you lean into his touch. “me too.” you whisper, your head tilted back onto the wall to look up at him.

it silent for a moment, letting you feel his hands travel over your dress and to your waist. "i really like you, you know?" he whispers, and for the first time you see him slightly bashful but still confident, and your stomach tingles in the best way.

your heart jumps to your throat at his confession and your legs tremble, a shaky but content smile reaches your lips, "really?"

chris nods slightly before leaning into your neck and lowly muttering into your skin, "and i really want to fuck you, too." his lips come into contact with your neck, pressing feather light kisses onto your sensitive spots. he moved closer to you, caging you against the wall.

your heavy gasps and panting mixed together, and the bedroom got hotter by the second. then, he hiked your dress up to your hips and traced his fingertips on the lace of your panties, getting closer and closer to where you were desperate for him.

you gasped and clung onto him, whimpering as his fingers lightly brushed your clothed clit, but then teasingly moved back to tracing the edge of your panties. “chris…”

“hm? what is it, baby?” chris smirked into your neck, his tone teasing and amused. he loved your needy little gasp and wanton whimpers flowing from your lips. his cock was pressing against his jeans at how sensitive you were, knowing that you were this way because he was the first to ever touch you like this.

“i’m nervous.” you murmur, shivering as hands go to your hips to softly grip them. you look up at him and bite your lip.

chris glances at your plump, wet lips and wishes he could ravish them. but then he reminds himself that he has to go slow and teach you some things. “no need to be nervous, i’m right here.” his thumbs massage right beneath your lace on your hips.

you gulp and look to the side, contemplating what you were about to do. “…are you just saying all of this so you can have sex with me?” you blurt out your insecure thoughts, and frown at the silence heavy in the air. did you ruin the mood?

“hey, look at me.” chris demands gently, hooking your chin and making you lock eyes with him. “i never say anything i don’t mean. i know we only met a couple days ago, but i’ve always noticed you.”

your face flushes even more than it already was, your hands hesitantly running up his stomach to his chest. “i noticed you too.” you whisper. he shivers at your touch and words before sighing contently, “i know, i see you staring.” he teases, chuckling as you look away in embarrassment once again.

“on a serious note, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. but if you want to continue, i wanna set a rule first.”

your eyes dart to him, searching for any sign on him lying about anything. there is none, only lust and fondness in his blue eyes as he looks at you. you nod, “alright, what is the rule?” you ask curiously, getting more bold and sliding your hands up his shoulders and around to his nape. you play with his hair slightly and see that he holds back a groan, which you save for later use.

“if you say yes, you’re mine.” his tone is serious and low, it makes your thighs clench and the burning in your stomach feelings like molten. “no dating, fucking, or seeing other guys. we would be exclusively only seeing each other, i don’t just do random hookups on a saturday night.”

you softly smile and nod, “me neither, obviously.” you mutter with slight embarrassment. he laughs and grins at you, “so, do you want to continue, baby?” he asks teasingly, leaning down closer to your lips.

you lick your lips and nod shyly, “yeah. i really do.”

chris hums and one of his rough hands travels to the top of your panties. his fingertips dip into the fabric, trailing across your lower stomach slowly. his eyes stare into yours, savoring your reactions and small noises.

your pussy clenched as his lips suddenly grazed your ear and he lowly whispered, “do you want my fingers, y/n?”

you whine shamelessly and nod, too worked up from a simple whisper and some light touching.

“yeah? then beg.”

holy fuck.

to be continued with actual smut… sorry its so long! i cant help but like the tension leading up to it

#christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #college #frat boy #frat boy chris sturniolo #smutty fanfiction #smutty smut smut #smut #fanfic #fanfiction

[peterman-spideyparker]

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

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

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

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

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, OFCs

Word Count: 6,084

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

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

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

“You are,” Amy counters. 

“Not.”

“Are.” 

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

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

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

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

“Ames.”

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

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

“What if his friend does?”

“He has his back to us, he won’t—.”

“FOGGY!”

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

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

“Be nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe,” you breathe. “Maybe not.”

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

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

“Offense,” Foggy scoffs.

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

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

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

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

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

“Harsh,” Matt hums.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?” you hum, snapping out of it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s more alliterative, though.”

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

“You’re gonna judge.”

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

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

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

“That’s really cute.”

“It’s really not,” you chuckle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s just the truth as I see it.”

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

“No ulterior motives?”

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

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

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

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

He gives you a small smile.

“Something funny?”

“Beer and pretzels,” he hums. 

“Har har.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll do my best not to,” he smiles.

“D’you want anything with yours?”

“Mustard, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Please?” you try.

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

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

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

“Night, Boyd!” you smile. 

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

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

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

“If you play your cards right.”

“Sounds like a challenge.”

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

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

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

“What?” he hums. 

“It’s almost three.”

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

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

“Neither am I.”

“Maybe we’re just really slow walkers?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you confirm. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That sounds nice.”

“Want to go to the living room?”

“No ulterior motives?” you smirk. 

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

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

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

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

“Mm,” you hum. “Very.”

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

No. No you don’t.

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

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

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

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

“We can stop if you want.”

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

“Oh, well, we can’t have that.”

“No, we can’t.”

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

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

“So kind of you.”

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

“Yes. Definitely.”

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

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

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

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

“I have a few ideas.”

“Then show me.”

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

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

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

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

“It’ll be just for you. Swear.”

“Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His laugh is like warm tea with honey.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

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

“Ready.”

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

“Matt,” you breathe.

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

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

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

“N-No. ’s great. So great.”

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Please!”

“Hm?”

“Fuck, Matt! You’re—oooohhhh!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Harder,” you beg. “Harder, Matt.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” he says with a tender smile.

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

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

“How do you know I’m thinking?”

“Call it a hunch.”

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

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

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

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

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

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader fluff #matt murdock x fem!reader fluff #college!matt murdock #college!matt murdock x reader #college!matt murdock x college!reader #college!matt murdock x college!fem!reader #college!matt murdock fluff #college!matt murdock smut #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader smut #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil x fem!reader #daredevil netflic #daredevil disney+ #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction

[courtforshort15]

How Sweet It Is (to be loved by you)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x AFAB Reader

Word Count: 3,300

Summary: Matt Murdock is the sweetest man you’ve ever known.

Warnings: Sweet and gentle smut. Yup, good old College!Matt taking care of reader during her first time.

Masterlist

Matt Murdock is a lot of things.

Intense.

Passionate.

Intelligent. 

Resilient. 

Beautiful. 

But your favorite thing that he is...is sweet.

No one should be that happy to attend a grueling class about civil law, but Matt has always been the exception, not the rule, throwing everyone off their axis, time and time again.

He is sweet in the way that he walks you to as many of your classes as he can, hand linked with yours, despite the fact that sometimes you think it should be the other way around, that you should be the one guiding him to his own classes, helping him navigate through the crowds of students and finding an empty seat in a lecture hall. But Matt Murdock knows the campus like the back of his hand, so you don't worry about him making his way to where he needs to be, knowing he’ll make it just fine on his own with a backpack thrown over his shoulder and a charming smile lighting up his face.

He is sweet in the way that he stays up late to help you study for exams. He helps you prepare note cards, quizzing you on facts and terms that he has long since mastered. He is two years ahead of you in the law program, and while he has plenty of homework and papers he could be working on, he always makes sure you're settled and confident in your own knowledge and abilities before he moves on to his own assignments.

He is sweet in the way that he rubs your back and whispers soothing words into your ears while you're in the middle of an anxiety attack, hands clenched in his t-shirt and helpless tears sliding down your face through wet eyelashes, trying and failing to match your breathing to his. He asks you what you need from him, what he can do to make it better, and when you tell him that all you need is for him to hold you, he keeps you pressed up against him for the rest of the night and into the morning, hand rubbing up and down your back in a motion that reminds you of the way your father used to comfort you through thunderstorms. 

He is sweet in the way that when he kisses you, it's with everything he has. You are his sole focus, the only thing he is thinking about when his mouth is on yours, soft lips shifting between petal light and the kind of passion you’ve only ever seen on a movie screen. The hands he roams over your body vary in their pressure, vary in their intensity, but they are always soft and ready to slow down and ease up if you need.

He is sweet the first time he's inside of you, the first time anyone is inside you, and you can’t think of anyone you’d rather experience this with first.

To be honest, you can’t think of anyone you’d rather experience this with ever.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his mouth ghosting over yours as he helps you remove your pants, tossing them to the carpeted floor in his bedroom, the off-campus apartment he shares with Foggy a far cry from your cramped dorm room. Your shirt and bra soon follow, a gentle movement of color that lands somewhere behind you.

"Yes," you say in reply, reaching for his own clothing and failing miserably to remove them, fingers trembling in nerves and a level of eagerness you haven’t felt before. He steadies your hands, raising them to his lips to press a gentle kiss to the knuckles, before he takes his shirt off himself, exposing broad shoulders that already carry so much weight on them, though the weight never dims the smiles that he sends your way. 

It's not the first time you've seen him without anything covering his chest, having spent time pressed against him as he gently tore your boundaries down through smooth skin and patience as he waited for you to be ready for this exact moment. But it's the first time you've seen him like this, bathed in the moonlight that's streaming through the window, face a mixture of anticipation, excitement and the flash of hunger that’s been appearing on his face more and more often.

You know that if he could see, he’d find the exact same look staring back at him. 

He's sweet in the way he leans into you and presses a quick kiss to your cheek, a thoughtful and wordless way to remind you that he's going to take good care of you as the pair of you move into this next step of your relationship. You can feel his want pressing into your abdomen, an aching testament to his desire for you, but you have no doubt that he’d stop if you asked him to, your name on his lips shifting from passion to comfort immediately and without question.

You have no intention of asking him to stop tonight, though.

Matt's lowering you to his bed before you know it, placing you so that you're on your side facing him. He's pressed against you in a way that leaves little to the imagination of how much he wants you, and you can’t help but rock into him, savoring the small gasp that leaves through his parted lips. His skin is nearly scalding, but the heat barely registers because the temperature matches yours, and how can he burn you anymore than you’re already burning? 

He is sweet in the way he pushes your hair back behind your ear, wanting full access to your face, fingers trailing down your cheek and cupping your jaw so that he can lift your mouth towards his, dark eyes fluttering shut. The hand slides into your hair once his lips have captured yours, cradling the back of your head in his palm, the pressure tender even while it’s firm.

With your free hand, you slide your fingers into his silk boxers, marveling at how the skin is somehow unbelievably softer than the fabric. It matches, you suppose, the texture of his skin as gentle underneath your fingertips as the sound of your name leaving his lips. Your hand slides lower so that you can grasp him fully, and while it's not the first time you've held him in your palm, it's still the first time you've been ready to cradle him in a different part of your body. 

He helps you push his boxers down his hips before he slowly removes your own underwear, fingers pausing to draw a few circles on the inside of one of your thighs, and the movement is more sensual than you could have ever imagined. You are completely bare to him in a way you haven't been before, and though you know he can't see you, you delight in the way that he already knows your body far better than you do.

Matt has spent time tracing every bump and scar of your body, reading them as easily as he does the bumps of braille on a piece of paper, studying every reaction you have to his hands on your body. He has learned to use each sigh and gasp and movement to his advantage as he pushes you to a peak only he can give, and you can do nothing but moan in his ear as he whispers words of love and praise into your skin.

He is sweet in the way that he gently coaxes your thighs apart, fingers urging you to open for him, voice quiet in your ear to once again ask if you're alright with the way he's touching you. You kiss him in response, offering him a level of comfort that comes with another wordless reply of your shy but enthusiastic consent, and his hand settles between your legs and over the place that aches for him the most.

"You're so wet for me, sweetheart," he breathes against your cheek as he lifts your leg to lay across his hip, encouraging you to sink closer into his side as he slowly slides a finger into you. Your body accepts him as eagerly as it had the first time he had touched you weeks ago, and you’re helpless to do anything but sigh and press further into his hand. You're not exactly a stranger to his fingers inside of you, but this time the intention is to not only make you feel good, but to also prepare your body for the rest of him, and the knowledge causes goosebumps to creep up and down your arms.

He adds a second finger, and the stretch causes a gasp, which he quickly swallows down as he leans forwards to press his mouth against yours. His breathing is in sync with yours, a steady in and out that’s increasing in its frequency as the two of you further explore the flesh and bone and muscle that you've laid out for each other.  

He encourages you to finally roll over so that you're fully on your back, and once you're settled, he hums in contentment. Leaning down, Matt allows his mouth to trail down your jaw, down your neck, and over your breast where he pulls a nipple lightly between his teeth, laughing lightly as you arch into him. He adjusts his body so that he's stretched out above you, though most of his weight is resting on the arm and hand that's been placed next to your head, always so careful to not hurt you or cause any sort of discomfort. 

He always treats you like stained glass, though not in a way that suggests you’re fragile or easily broken, but in the way that says you’re far too precious for him to ever let go of.

"You're such a good girl for me," he whispers, and he's just loud enough that you don't have to strain your hearing to make out what he's saying. The praise causes your face to flush hotter than it already is, and you can't think of a coherent reply, too lost and too dizzy with the way he’s making you feel, the way he’s playing your body like a violin. Instead, your fingers drum a light pattern on the shoulders they've wrapped around, and he shudders at the contact. 

You love knowing that his body is every bit as sensitive as yours when it comes to your fingertips tracing over his own skin.

He is sweet in the way he continues his journey further down until his mouth is above where he knows you ache for him. With no thought of himself, he lays down on his stomach, resting his weight on his elbows, and uses the fingers on one hand to part you. His mouth is on your clit a second later, tongue lightly circling around it, and you moan quietly, his name on your lips. The sound must spur him on, because while he starts out soft and tender, his mouth gradually speeds up and increases in intensity.

He wrecks you with his lips and tongue and fingers, and it's not long before you're gasping through your release, one hand grasping his bedsheet so tightly you're shocked you haven't ripped it, the other hand buried in his hair. Somewhere along the way he had placed an arm strong as steel over your abdomen in an effort to keep you still while he tore you apart. 

Matt makes his way slowly back up your body, pausing here and there to place kisses along your hips and abdomen and chest, lips glistening even while they open in a smile that somehow is a combination of smug satisfaction and a look that is so soft and affectionate it makes your heart stutter.

"You okay?" he asks again, the dry fingers that hadn't been inside you softly caressing your cheek. His eyes are glazed and unfocused, but you look up and admire the color and the way they almost seem to dance around your face. You’re not sure how you’d ever survive without him, this man who had asked to share a table with you in the crowded library just six months ago, this man who had the ability to make you feel so seen despite his lack of sight. 

"More than okay," you whisper back, your voice breathless as you lift your own hand to run it through his dark hair. He takes the opportunity to kiss your fingers as they trail down his cheek and briefly over his lips, smiling as he does so. 

"Do you still want to--"

With a quiet laugh, you pull him down for a full kiss, tongue immediately pushing into his mouth that remains slightly parted in a grin, and he echoes your brief huff of laughter. It quickly turns into a moan, as does yours when he grinds his hips into you before he reluctantly tears himself away, a small smirk appearing on his face. 

Matt reaches over you to grab a condom off of his night table, and you watch as he sits back on to his heels to slide it on, briefly mourning the thought that you won't feel the silk of his cock pressing into you, but you figure one day you’ll get to that point. There's no reason to rush it now. 

He is sweet in the way he checks in with you again, hand returning to your cheek, an easy way for him to map out the expression on your face. He smiles when his fingers run over your lips, no doubt discovering your own smile that you're wearing, the one that you seem to wear solely for him. You nod, quietly giving your consent once more, and he wordlessly helps you to spread your legs wider so that he may fully lay between them, the heat of skin settling almost completely into yours.

He drags his cock through your folds, catching your earlier release on the tip to slick the way, and with a deep breath, he pushes in. There's a slight burn at the stretch, but you embrace it wholeheartedly, knowing it’s simply the stretch of Matt finding yet another way to make himself home within you. Touching Matt this way, feeling him this way, is something you've been thinking about since the first time he kissed you.

He is sweet in the way that he goes slow, patiently waiting for you to adjust and feel comfortable, and it's not long before he's seated completely inside you, hips snug against yours. He leans down to kiss you, red lips caressing yours softly at first before it shifts into something that's a little more heated, a little more passionate, perhaps a prelude for what’s to come. 

"You're doing so well for me, sweetheart," he says against your mouth, and the words make you sigh in response, hips once again tilting up to rock into him, and he retaliates with a slight withdrawal and careful push back in, causing you to close your eyes with a quiet gasp. "You feel so good. Does it feel good for you, too?"

"Yes," you tell him truthfully once you reopen your eyes, hand running down his back, the skin just as soft as the front of him and warm to the touch. "You feel perfect."

You feel his mouth split into a grin against yours, and you can't help but let out another quiet groan when he pulls out of you slightly before sliding back in. He is beautiful like this, pressed against you, cheeks flushed, damp hair resting on his forehead. You reach up to push his dark hair away from his face and trail your fingers down his cheek, and even while he continues to slide in and out of you, he turns his head to press a kiss against your wrist. 

You've heard many terms used to describe what you're experiencing with Matt. 

Having sex.

Screwing.

Fucking.

But none of those accurately or even come close to the feeling of this. You've never liked the term making love, finding it somewhat cheesy for whatever reason, but here in the moment with him, nothing else sounds more right, nothing else captures what it feels like to be with him like this. The way your bodies move together is selfless, seeking the other's breaking point, savoring each breath that's gasped out, each slide of skin against skin. 

He is sweet in the way he makes sure you come first, fingers running down your body to eventually press and rub over your clit, a slow grind meant to both make the moment last while also sending you rushing towards your peak, one that gets closer and closer with every thrust and press of his hips against yours. With his lips hovering just above yours, barely half an inch away, he tells you how much he wants you to come for him, tells you how perfect you feel underneath him and wrapped around him in every way you can be. 

He rests on top of you for a few minutes afterwards, sweat soaked skin pressed into sweat soaked skin, and the weight of him somehow still feels weightless, as if holding him to you like this is the most natural thing in the world. When he pulls out with a gentle kiss to your forehead, you can't help but reach for him again, despite the fact that he only takes one step away from the bed to throw away the condom. You're back in his arms a split second later, and the world rights itself once more.

When he tells you that just once will never be enough for him, that he will always need this with you, that being inside of you is the first place he's felt at home in years, you absolutely shatter. The way your clench around him, crying out his name, sends Matt to his own release, his lips immediately crashing to yours in effort to touch as much of you as possible. 

"I love you," he whispers into your ear, pulling you as tightly against him as possible, angling your head so that it rests on his shoulder, yanking up the top sheet to cover you both as he gently presses your face into his neck. It's the most vulnerable part of his body, and he exposes it to you, no questions asked. 

"I love you, too," you tell him quietly. Your hand moves to where he's wrapped his own around your waist, lacing your fingers with his. It's not the first time you've said the words to each other, but this time there’s the feeling of added weight to it that you're not sure to describe other than to say that it just feels like more.

He is sweet in the way that those words continue to fall from his lips as easily as breathing for the rest of your lives, despite the hardships and complications and revelations that come along the way. He is still sweet in the way he walks you to places you're more than capable of walking to by yourself, simply so that he can have just a few extra minutes of being next to you. He is still sweet in the way he stays up with you the nights before big cases you're up against, even while he's exhausted and being bandaged up at the kitchen table. He's still sweet in the way he holds you during anxiety attacks, and the way he kisses you like it's the first time his mouth is on yours.

He is still sweet as he slides a wedding band on your finger in front of friends and family, promising to love you and give you all that he has, day in and day out, asking with dark eyes and cherry red lips for nothing but the same promise in return. He’s no longer hesitant in the question, an early life of abandonment having given way to the endless love and commitment you’ve pressed into his skin over the years.

Even through various frustrations and tears, you’ve found yourself forever unable to be anything but sweet to him in return.

#Matt Murdock #Daredevil #human disaster matt murdock #college matt murdock #reader first time #matt murdock x afab!reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x afab reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #matt murdock smut #daredevil smut

[luvsturniolo]

ー ★ !! inebriated

pairing : chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis : after being dragged to a party by his brothers, chris finds himself stumbling into a very drunk girl — who looks like she's on the verge of either puking or sobbing. he can't tell which.

a/n : i haven't touched my keyboard in literal months so i wrote this purely due to the fact that i needed to get back into this writing lore ! if this is super shitty & bad, i apologize. this is ur warning !!

also ! there will be underage drinking, so if that sort of thing bothers you in any way i advise that you click off of this rn and find another fic.

also x2 , this will be switching POVs a bit. i'll put their names above each scene tho, so it's not confusing.

wc : 8k

CHRIS

"i don't know if this is a good idea." chris says, warily, as he and his brothers trudge up the stairs toward the loud dorm room. they're all the way down the hall, and he can still hear every single lyric blaring from the speakers.

"oh, don't be a fucking wuss." nick rolls his eyes, gently nudging his brother in the side with his elbow. nick laughs a bit, but when he notices the genuine uneasiness displayed on his brother's face, he feels a twinge of guilt in his gut. "okay, fine. i have an idea."

chris looks up at nick with a deep furrow in his brow, "i hope your idea involves us going back to our own dorm for the rest of the night."

"well, not exactly." nick tells him. "how about matt and i go to the party, while you wait out here in the hall all night?"

chris lets out a loud groan, twisting to sit down on the staircase. what annoys chris isn't the fact that nick is so uncharacteristically persistent about attending this stupid party. it's the fact that he offered this idea as though he genuinely expected chris to sit out in the hallway for hours.

nick rolls his eyes at chris's childish behavior, leaning against the wall of the stairwell, seeming to have completely given up on trying to convince his brother to come along with him. he simply watches with an amused face as chris throw a tantrum.

matt — who has become incredibly sick of listening to his brothers' bickering the entire walk across campus — finally decides to butt into the conversation. he sits down on the stair beside chris, draping an arm over his shoulders. chris glances at matt out of the corner of his eye.

"i have an idea, too." matt tells him with a gentle tone. "wanna hear mine?"

for a moment, chris looks uncertain. but matt is so good at comforting people that he can't help but give in, agreeing to hear his idea as well. "fine." chris mutters.

"listen. you come to the party with us for twenty minutes." he says, making chris immediately let out a fatigued sigh. but matt quickly continues to explain. "if you're still wanting to leave by then, let me know and i'll take you back to our dorm without any questions. but if you end up having fun, you'll stay with us and give us both twenty bucks for having to listen to you whine the whole way here."

chris doesn't hesitate to agree to this deal. he shakes matt's hand to solidify the agreement and the three of them continue walking to the party.

there's no way in hell chris is going to enjoy this. the booming music paired with the stench of alcohol and weed is undoubtably going to give him a splitting head ache by the end of these twenty minutes.

YOU

parties aren't exactly your cup of tea, to put it lightly. you've only been to a few throughout your entire collage career, and you've never found yourself liking them. there's always far too many people in attendance for you to be able to relax or enjoy yourself. so, you've managed to avoid them thus far.

but you've had an incredibly rough day today, and you're pretty keen on the idea of being able to drink your pain away.

you've been friends with jasmin and elaine since you guys were in middle school. the three of you were inseparable for years, and everyone knew it. you were always closer with elaine than jasmin, simply because your guys' personalities merged better. as a trio, you guys spent every single weekend together since you were kids. your families all knew one another. you gossiped together about boys and drama and school. you confided in each other, and didn't spend a second apart.

however, that all ended today. you found elaine making out with your boyfriend in your guys' shared dorm room a few hours ago.

you had been dating kade for two years now, and you introduced him to your friends immediately when you guys met. you were excited to show them the wonderful boy you'd fallen for. they seemed to like him, and you guys became a quartet. you, elaine, jasmin, and kade. it was perfect. for two whole years. but it's all ruined now.

as soon as you walked in on elaine and kade in bed together, you called jasmin to tell her the news. she seemed just as shocked and betrayed as you were, and she rushed to your side instantly. you'd been in her dorm ever since, marinating in your own pitiful sorrow.

the thing is, you've been cheated on before. yes, it hurts ; it hurts like hell. but losing elaine hurts far more than losing your silly boyfriend. plus, kade had always been a bit of an asshole. elaine was the one who disapproved of him the most. the two of them always argued and made banter playfully. god. now you feel like such a fucking idiot for not realizing sooner.

"hey," jasmin says with the softest voice imaginable.

she opens the door to the dorm with a gentle creak, carrying in your favorite candies along with her. she trudges across the room before sitting on her bed — which you've made into your own. the mattress dips under her weight before she sets all the sweets down onto the duvet.

you sit up with a quiet word of thanks. ever since the incident, you've been tangled up in jasmin's blankets with a pillow pressed over your head to drown out the noise of a nearby party being thrown a few rooms down the hall.

"where'd you get all this?" you ask jasmin as you shuffle through the candies, finding the sweetest ones and unwrapping them joyfully.

"paxton is throwing a party for his birthday, and he let me take a few things." she explains, picking up a few for herself.

you can still hear the music blaring from down the hall, along with the sounds of muffled voices and laughter. you immediately wonder if kade and elaine are there together. kade is fairly popular, so he was most likely invited. and elaine loves parties, so she would have attended with him.

the thought of them together brings a certain ache to your stomach, making you want to lurch forward and vomit everywhere. you don't, of course, but you definitely consider it.

"i really fucking love you, jaz." you say.

you look at her with nothing by admiration behind your gaze. she holds the eye contact before smiling gently. she sets down her candies and pulls you into a tight hug. you return the embrace, burrowing your face in the crook of her neck.

"you deserve someone who treats you like the most wonderful person in the whole fucking world." she says against your hair. "because that's who you are."

"i don't feel like that, right now." you tell her, pulling out of the hug to gesture at your appearance. your hair is greasy tangled, your face is puffy from crying, your clothes are twisted, and you probably smell like shit.

"how about this," jasmin says with a mischievous grin spreading across her lips, "i'll lend you one of my most gorgeous dresses, and then we can go to paxton's party together. every single person there will stop and stare, including kade."

jasmin stands from the bed and grabs you by the hands, giggling as she pulls you to your feet. despite wanting nothing more than to go back to rotting uselessly in her bed, you can't help but laugh along with her.

"let's show him what he's missing out on." jasmin declares with a glow in her eyes, that makes you feel like you're in a cheesy disney movie. but you're honestly loving every second of it.

CHRIS

"how long has it been?" chris asks, leaning against the counter behind him. he looks up at matt, but realizes that his brother is no longer in front of him. chris groans audibly. he should have assumed that he wouldn't keep his end of the deal. there's no way matt could walk him home if chris doesn't know where he is.

"it's almost ten o'clock." a random guy says from beside chris. he looks over at him and smiles gratefully, hoping he doesn't look too awkward standing by himself. "this party is shit, don't you think?"

"for sure." chris agrees, quickly. "i don't even drink, so there's nothing for me to do other than watch everyone else get shit-faced. which isn't exactly how i want to spend my saturday night."

the guy just watches chris with an amused expression. the way he's staring makes chris feel a bit uncomfortable, but he refuses to show any sign of uneasiness.

"you're nick's brother, aren't you?" he asks suddenly.

the guy has sandy blonde hair and a face splattered with freckles. his eyes are dark brown, and a bit intimidating. he has high cheekbones and a grin that would make anyone tempted to smile along with him. the stranger takes a long sip out of his red solo cup as he waits for chris to respond, setting it down on the countertop behind him without breaking their eye contact.

"yeah, one of them." chris replies, finally. "i'm christopher."

"mm. full name, huh?" the guy hums with a bit of humor laced behind his tone. chris doesn't say anything, simply nodding as a reply. "i'm paxton. this is my party, i'm turning twenty."

chris's face drops. he instantly wants to take back everything he'd previously said. oh, he fucked up big time. he knows that nick only wanted to come to this party because of the major crush he has on paxton. and chris just insulted the shit out of his birthday party, then acted passive aggressive when giving him his full name as an introduction.

god, nick is gonna kill him.

"right, well i have to go." chris says, quickly exiting the kitchen with no idea where to go next. he should probably have stayed and apologized to paxton, but he was too scared of possibly fucking up even farther.

while aimlessly wandering around the crowded dorm, chris bumps into someone. he instantly apologizes, looking down at her with remorse. but his eyes quickly soften when he recognizes her.

"y/n?" he mutters, shocked to see you. especially at a party like this, knowing how much you usually dislike them with everything in you.

"holy fuck." you reply, your voice slurred and intoxicated. "christopher owen."

YOU — fifteen minutes prior

"i don't even know what to do at a party." you complain as you examine at yourself in jasmin's mirror. she was right, you look stunning. but you don't look like you.

"we're not going to party." jasmin explains as though it's the simplest concept to understand. "we're going to make kade jealous, and then get super drunk so we're too hungover to face tonight's concequences in the morning."

she has to shout in order for you to hear her voice because she's in the bathroom, curling her hair. the bathroom door is cracked open, but yelling is still needed due to the party's music being louder than anything else.

you shrug even though she can't see you doing so. "well when you put it that way, it sounds like a lovely idea." you respond, also shouting.

"girl," jasmin says with an audible laugh, "all my ideas are lovely."

with that, she exits the bathroom. her dress is shiny and gold, contrasting beautifully against her dark skin. you watch through the mirror as she approaches you, her reflection standing directly behind your own as she begins to put on two chunky, gold earrings.

you're wearing a dress that's a bit shorter than you'd like, but jasmin claims that it's the longest one she owns. you keep pulling it down subconsciously, but it's riding up your thighs annoyingly. you're wearing shorts underneath, of course, because they make you feel less exposed by the lack of length the dress provides. jasmin also lent you a necklace, a few bracelets, and a pair of earrings to wear. the jewelry is all dainty and more jasmin's style than yours, but you couldn't deny how fucking gorgeous you looked.

"let's go!" jasmin says with a giddy smile, grabbing your hand as she pulls you toward the door. you laugh with your last remaining true friend, allowing her to drag you down toward the party. your guys' heels click against the wooden floorboards in the hallway, the sound making you laugh even harder.

jasmin doesn't even bother knocking on the door. the way you guys enter paxton's dorm unannounced makes you feel strange, until you're actually inside and realize that the arrival of two people means nothing in comparison to the amount of guests that are piled into the space.

for the first few minutes, you and jasmin walk around together, exploring. you've had a few drinks, but you're hardly feeling anything yet. you end up leaving jasmin when she starts flirting with a random girl on the dance floor, and you feel invasive to linger around with her.

now on your own, you head toward the kitchen for another drink seeing as you just finished your last one. it's kind of comforting to be in the kitchen because there aren't as many people crowding around you. it's easier to breathe on your own.

you find a cooler on the floor, wide open with ice overflowing the rim. wedged inside the ice are various alcoholic beverages to choose from. you think for a moment before bending to grab a jack daniels, deciding on something sweet rather than bitter. when you stand back up, you notice someone standing to your left. you nearly drop the drink in shock.

"god," you mutter with an airy laugh as you turn to face the person. but all traces of humor leave your face when you recognize the presumed stranger.

elaine's hair is beautifully curled, framing her pale face with elegance that makes you suddenly feel like your hair isn't done well enough. her icy blue eyes stare down at you with an expression you can't read — which pisses you off because you used to be able to read all of her emotions perfectly. but now it's like she's a complete stranger.

now feeling insecure in your own skin, you pull the hem of your dress down. elaine doesn't seem to notice, nor does she care how you feel at the moment.

"what?" you demand, clutching the bottle in your hand to ground yourself. "did you come in here just to stare at me, or what?"

"don't flatter yourself." she says bluntly, a tone she's never directed at you before. in all the years you'd known her, you guys have never gotten into a genuine argument. so it's incredibly weird to see her in this new light. "i came for a drink. and you're standing in front of the cooler."

you turn and notice that she's right. you're blocking her from reaching the cooler. you instantly feel embarrassed, but you're quick to hide it by crossing your arms and stepping to the side so she can get to the cooler.

you watch as she reaches for the strongest drink that's offered. typical. she wouldn't be elaine without being unapologetically herself.

"you might not have anything to say to me, but i have a lot i'd like to say to you." you tell her, keeping your voice level despite the way your hands tremble against your crossed arms.

"it can wait." she says, turning on her heel and exiting the kitchen without another word, her ash blonde hair swishing behind her with superiority.

"what the fuck?" you murmur, now alone in the kitchen.

your senses are suddenly overflowing with blinding rage. after years of being best friends, she sleeps with your boyfriend. and yet, she's the one avoiding you? there's no fucking way anything about this situation is logical. you're the one who's pissed, not her. she has no right to have walked away from you like that. you deserve an explanation. or at least a viable conversation.

you screw open your bottle and take a swig of the drink, deciding that you're going to need a whole lot more of this before your anger cools down enough for you to leave the kitchen. because if you were to leave now, you wouldn't trust yourself not to immediately go to elaine and start a fight that you're not sure you'd even win.

after about ten minutes of standing by the cooler, drinking away your anger, you decide to finally exit the kitchen. you leave the room, stumbling a bit as you do so. but you quickly turn back around, realizing that you left your phone on the countertop.

as you walk back into the kitchen, you bump into someone who's walking out of it. he quickly apologizes, seeming to be in quite a hurry. you decide not to look up at him, now being annoyed that someone even bumped into you. god, maybe drinking was a bad idea. now everything pisses you off, not just elaine and kade.

"y/n?" the guy mutters, sounding insanely shocked. you raise a brow before looking up to meet the man's eyes. you instantly begin smiling at the guy.

"holy fuck." you reply, your voice slurred and intoxicated. "christopher owen."

CHRIS

chris hasn't seen you since senior year of high school. and considering the fact that you guys are now in college, it has been quite a while since you've seen each other.

you guys weren't necessarily friends back then, but you knew one another well enough. you guys had math together for two years straight. you sat side-by-side, talking every day through the entire period. by the end of the year, chris had developed a crush on you, and you were completely oblivious to his feelings.

he had introduced you to his brothers and you'd hung out outside of school a few times. you spent the night at his house once or twice, when your home life wasn't the greatest. he had come over to yours a few times to study for upcoming tests.

you's met his parents, and mary lou absolutely adored you. she told you stories about her sons, including each of their middle names. following this encounter, you had begun calling chris by his full name — christopher owen. at first, you did it because you noticed how it annoyed him. but then, the name stuck. it became an inside joke between you and him, depicting a sense of intimacy in knowing his middle name. even more so since it was given to you from his mother herself.

but after graduation, you guys lost contact and haven't spoken since.

however, seeing you in front of him now, chris really wishes he had made more of an effort to stay in touch with you. you're just as gorgeous as he'd remembered, if not more so than before. your dress was incredibly flattering, and your hair was done up perfectly.

upon seeing you, he completely forgot everything that was previously plaguing his mind. he couldn't even form a sentence, leaving the two of you staring at each other wordlessly. he took on your appearance once more, suddenly coming to realize something about you.

"you're drunk, aren't you?" he says, not knowing whether or not to be surprised. on one hand, it's a college party and everyone is drunk. but on the other hand, you're you.

you were the most perfect girl he'd ever met, unaware that you were capable of having a single flaw. but as he looks at you now, completely plastered, he realizes that it's impossible for anyone to be flawless. even you. plus, there's something incredibly domestic, and human about seeing you like this. like it's illegal, like something is wrong.

"i think everyone's drunk, except you and your brothers." you tell him with a crooked grin that makes his heart begin to beat at an unhealthy speed. "plus, i deserve to drink after the day i've had."

it sounds like you're telling yourself that last bit more than you're telling it to chris. as though you're not even sure you believe it. he wants to question you, and ask what's wrong. but he decides not to. that'd be weird, wouldn't it? i mean, you guys haven't spoken in years.

"anyway," you say as your body sways from side to side, "i left my phone in the kitchen and i need to get it back before someone steals it. or even worse, before elaine steals it."

chris raises a brow at your odd behavior, but again decides not to point it out. you continue talking as if you can't help yourself. as if there's no off switch, keeping you from spilling too much. and even though you've begun to talk about random shit that means nothing, chris is listening to every single word intently.

"...but yeah, i think all alcohol should have screw on tops." you ramble, mindlessly. "if we could all simply unscrew the bottles without a problem, we wouldn't have to waste money on those shitty bottle openers. but- well, i mean, maybe that's the point. oh my god! maybe that's the reason they're made! so they can make even more money off the openers! even though we don't need to use them, and they don't need the money. it's still a profitable arrangement that they're more well off having created. oh, and-"

you keep talking and talking. and chris keeps listening and listening. the way you gesture around with your hands makes him happy, because you used to do the same thing back in high school. and the way your voice gets higher when you come to a realization is also a habit you've always had.

in the middle of your ranting, nick comes up to chris frantically. he doesn't seen to notice you as he steals chris's attention away.

"have you seen paxton?" nick asks his brother with an extremely worried expression on his face. "we were talking, and it was going good. great even. but then he left to grab a drink, and he hasn't come back. i'm scared i did something wrong to scare him away. it was going so well."

remembering his previous conversation with paxton, chris immediately is filled with guilt. nick looks so terrified of the fact that he fucked this up, not knowing chris is the one who ruined his chances.

"i saw him in the kitchen a little bit ago, but it's been a while." chris says. he's technically not lying. he did see paxton. he's simply leaving out a few details. sure, they're pretty significant details, but it doesn't hurt nick to not know. in fact, it probably would be worse if he did. he's helping them all, honestly.

"thanks," nick says hurriedly before patting chris on the shoulder and rushing into the kitchen behind them.

with nick gone, chris refocuses his attention on you. but he's taken by surprise when he sees that you're no longer in front of him. chris looks around, spinning in circles idiotically. but it's like you fucking vanished out of thin air.

YOU

you've missed nick. you haven't seen him in years. but judging by the anxiety-filled body language, you deemed that this was a brotherly conversation. quickly feeling out of place, you decided to take your leave and return to the search of your phone. but when you reach the counter it had perviously been abandoned at, you see that it's no longer there.

"there you are!" you hear someone say from behind you. the sickeningly familiar voice draws chills down your spine. even drunk, you could recognize kade's voice without having to turn around to see his face. hesitantly, you do turn around. kade is standing by the cooler, your phone held tightly in his hands.

"oh, you found it." you say casually, stepping over to your ex with an amount of false confidence that shocks even you. "i've been looking for my phone everywhere, thank you for returning it for me!"

kade clearly is taken aback by your nonchalance, making you feel extremely good about yourself. but when you reach to take your phone from him, kade holds it above his head. when you guys were dating, his height was endearing. you loved how much taller he was compared to you. but right now, it's really pissing you off.

"see, i was going to give it back." kade says, lowering the phone so it's now in front of his face. he begins to type in your password — which you haven't yet changed seeing as it all only happened this morning. "but i changed my mind."

"you're not fucking funny." you tell him. your voice comes out more emotional than you would have preferred, because now kade knows exactly how annoyed you are.

"hm," he hums, scrolling through your phone as though it were his own. "i think it is funny, to be honest. i mean, you should be thanking me. who knows who else could have found it? you wouldn't have wanted it to get in the wrong hands, would you?"

"it's too late for that." you say. "you're the worst hands for it to be in."

he laughs, audibly, at that. the sound makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you want nothing more than to punch him in the fucking jaw.

it's so weird that your feelings could change so fast. this morning, you woke up and texted kade with enthusiasm. you guys kissed and cuddled so normally. similarly, you were hanging out with elaine at lunch today perfectly fine. but here you are now, with nothing but hatred for both of them.

"i saw you talking to that triplet guy," kade says, "i always get them mixed up. was that chris or matt? i think nick is the gay one. or is it chris who's gay? god. i can never keep them straight."

"why do you give a shit who i talk to?" you ask him, crossing your arms defiantly as kade continues to snoop through your phone with a straight face. "at least i didn't fuck your best friend while we were together."

this gets his attention.

"you know nothing about our relationship." kade tells you, an edge to his voice that would have scared you if you weren't so blinded by your anger. you watch as he tuts before turning off your phone and stuffing it into his back pocket.

"oh, so it's a relationship now?" you ask. if you weren't so drunk, you would have had the common sense to shut up and stop teasing. but your only goal at the moment is to get as far under his skin as possible. you want him to feel all the pain you felt this morning. "i thought you guys were just fuck buddies."

"i've known elaine longer than i've known you." kade snaps, taking a step closer to you. you back away, being forced to press yourself against the corner of the counter behind you. "she's the one who introduced us in the first place, you dumb fuck."

"yeah, and i'm eternally grateful for that." you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes with a light scoff.

"elaine has been my friend since middle school. we've been near door neighbors our entire lives." kade tells you, as though you weren't already made painfully aware of their intimate history together. "she means more to me than just sex."

again, anybody else would have been able to read the room by now. they would have stopped poking the bear and decided enough is enough. but you're far too inebriated for something so logical. so you continue to dig a deeper and deeper hole.

"yeah?" you question, tilting your head innocently. "you might want to make sure those feelings are requited. i saw her making out with ryan hart earlier."

you watch as kade's jaw ticks with irritation. the sight of him getting so worked up fills you with an inexplicable pleasure. you've been crying all morning over two people who betrayed you. and after arriving at the party, it's seemed like they don't even care about your pain. so yes, seeing kade get pissed off is extremely satisfying. and yes, you should have stopped there. but no, you didn't.

"she might mean the world to you, kade. but to her? you're just another quick fuck that she'll pretend never even happened come tomorrow."

this seems to have crossed a line.

before you even have time to register what's happening, you're scrambling to your feet with blood dripping from your nose. kade punched you square in the face.

now collecting yourself, you look up at kade with a scowl. but he's not there to meet you eyes. honestly, he's got it worse than you. he's currently on the floor, getting the shit beat out of him by none other than christopher owen.

chris must have seen what happened and decided to step in after you got hit.

and as immature as it sounds, you don't care stop him. you simply watch as chris tackles kade to the ground and punches him repeatedly. people are shouting at him to stop, but chris doesn't care. and nor do you. kade deserves this.

you suddenly hear someone yell your name from somewhere else in the kitchen. you look up and see matt. your guys' eyes meet, and he gives you a look that makes you feel guilty for not stopping the fight earlier.

"tell him to stop." he says wordlessly. "he'll only listen to you."

with a sigh, you end the fight with one single word. you say chris's name, and his entire body stops in an instant. it's as if you flicked a switch. he stands up, knuckles bloody, and turns to face you as the kitchen falls silent.

something you've come to like about college is the fact that people know to mind their business. they crowd around for the fight, sure. but as soon as the show is over, they leave as though nothing happened.

chris steps closer, so he's only an inch away from you now. he reaches around and pulls your dress up. you instinctively go to shove him away, but before you have the chance, he slides something into your back pocket, your guys's noses nearly touching as he does so. you feel the familiar weight of your phone in the pocket of your shorts before chris tugs your dress back down to cover them up.

"are you okay?" he asks, so quietly you nearly don't hear him.

you stare up at him, speechless. then, you glance down at his hands and decide to make a joke in order to ease some of the tension. "seems like your knuckles are in worse shape than my nose."

"you should see the other guy." chris says with a chuckle.

you crane your neck to look behind him. but kade is already gone. you're a bit disappointed that you weren't able to see the damage chris did, but you're sure everyone will be talking about it on monday when classes resume.

"let me do you a favor." you tell him, grabbing his bloody hand and holding it in both of yours. "since you did me one."

CHRIS

your favor wasn't what chris expected. when you took hold of his hand and pulled him upstairs, he thought you were going to kiss him or something. but you had other ideas — which he should have expected. from all the time he's known you, he should know better than to assume he knows what's going on inside your head. you're unpredictable. and he loves it. it's actually one of his favorite things about you.

"there should be a first aid kit under the sink." you mutter, dragging him into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you as if you were at your own house. "the code of conduct says you're required to have one under each sink in case of emergency."

"no way you actually read the fucking code of conduct." chris says with a laugh, sitting down on the closed toilet seat. he watches you with a gentle smile splayed softly across his lips.

"of course not." you say without looking at him, crouching in front of the sink and beginning to dig through the cabinet. "jasmin's roommate did, though. i've never formally met her, but jaz complains about how strict she is with rules and shit."

"right," chris says.

he's hardly listening to you, though. as much as he would love to involve himself in a conversation with you — no matter the subject — he's distracted. you look so fucking gorgeous right now, and he can't tear his eyes away. it's becoming a genuine problem. he's not only focused on your appearance, though. just the sound of your voice is enough to take his attention away from the words you speak.

it's been so long since he's seen you, and he's just trying to relish in the escapism that your presence offers.

"-- might hurt." is all he hears when he zones back in. and he doesn't have any time to think before you press disinfectant to his knuckles. the medicine against the open wound causes him to suck in a sharp breath. you watch the pained expression on his face, and you frown. "focus on something else. you have nine more knuckles to work with."

as soon as you tell him to focus on something else, his mind instantly goes to you. he pins his eyes to yours, and you return the favor. you continue to hold the eye contact as you move to the next wound. he clenches his jaw, but the pain is much more bearable this time round.

this goes on for about a minute or two. you guys stare at one another as his knuckles are slowly getting the attention they need.

this thing is, kade had piercings. and every time chris's fist wound come in contact with his nose stud or his lip ring, it would puncture his skin — creating the jagged injuries that you're treating so delicately, now.

"done," you say with a wide grin. the sight of you looking at him with a proud smile makes the stinging pain from the gauze worth every second. chris watches as you shut the first-aid-kit and place it back where you'd found it. as you stand back up, he looks down at his battered hands.

you did a great job, that much was inevitable. when you dragged him up here, they were bleeding and throbbing. but now they're numbed, and the band-aid you pressed across the hills of his knuckles are keeping them from bleeding. suddenly, chris remembers something.

"c'mere." he tells you. you look at him with a confused expression, raising an eyebrow at his sudden assertiveness. he instantly feels guilty, and quickly apologizes. "sorry, i didn't mean to snap like that. i just want to check your nose. make sure it's not broken or anything."

you let out an airy chuckle, "you don't need to do that. i'm fine."

"i insist." chris presses on, standing from the toilet seat and taking a daring step closer to you. he hears your breath hitch, and a smile tugs at his lips. "it's the least i could do after you patched me up like humpty dumpty."

you laugh at this, a bright smile lighting the dimmed bathroom as your eyes squint with joy. chris wishes he could bottle this moment up and replay it whenever he pleases.

"okay, okay," you say as your laughter dies down, "you can check my nose."

you move to sit on the toilet seat he had just recently occupied. chris doesn't crouch in front of you the way you did to him, though. he stands before you, his legs placed between your knees. he grabs you jaw, gently as ever, and tips your head up. he uses his free hand to graze your nose, feeling the damage. or lack thereof.

"yeah," his voice is so quiet you strain to hear it, "yeah, you were right. it's not broken."

despite the initial concern now being solved, neither of you attempt to move from your position. chris continues to hold your chin upward, and you continue to stare at him through your lashes. his thigh knocks against your knee, but again, neither of you aim to change anything about this moment — both of you being too afraid to lose whatever chemistry is going on.

suddenly, there's a loud banging at the door. "hurry the fuck up! some of us have to take a shit! oh my god!"

chris gets annoyed by the interruption, tempted to exit the bathroom and hurt whoever just ruined the moment. that way, his knuckles would be bloody again and you'd help him again. yeah, that sounds like a good idea to him. but just as the anger settles into his mind like a bird nesting, something rips his attention away.

you burst out in a fit of laughter. chris whips his head in your direction, desperate to watch the adorable scrunch of your nose, and the light reflect in your eyes. still laughing, you stand from the toilet and wipe at your eyes. you urge chris forward, saying it's a good idea to leave seeing as you guys have been hogging the bathroom for a while.

chris happily obliges. honestly, he would agree with anything you'd say right now. he would do anything for you, simply in the hopes that you'd glance at him for a moment as he does so.

as you both exit the bathroom and return downstairs, chris notices you stumble a bit. then it clicks in his head — you're still a bit drunk. sure, the fight may have sobered you up a great deal, but it's not instantaneous. the alcohol is still in your system, and it's still altering your actions in a slight bit.

this would explain why you're so giggly, and why your cheeks are so rosy. and for a moment. for an awful, awful moment, chris wonders if that's the only reason why you're even hanging around him in the first place.

"let me walk you back to your dorm," chris offers.

"you don't have to do that." you insist, staring up at him with wild eyes and tangled hair that he finds incredibly endearing.

"tell me where your dorm is, and i'll decide that for myself." chris says. "how about this. if you're in this building, i'll let you walk home alone. but if you're in the west wing, you have to let me take you back."

you groan with a laugh, tipping your head back as you do so. "i'm in the west wing."

"great," chris says with a smile, "let me take you home. again, it's the least i could do after everything you've done for me."

"you already made it up to me by checking my nose." you point out, tapping the bridge of your nose to prove your point. "you don't need to escort me home, i'm sure i'll be okay."

"i'm not just talking about the fight." chris says. "you've been great to me since high school."

"oh,"

YOU

the only reason you don't want chris to walk you back to your dorm is because of elaine. she's an incredible manipulator, and will talk shit about you at any chance she gets. especially if she sees you with a new boy. and you're honestly scared that chris might believe her.

but when chris brought up your guys's past, something in your gut ached. you felt an urge to hug him, and confide in him, and simply just exist with him by your side.

it's probably because you no longer feel like you have anyone to confide in. you lost your boyfriend and your best friend in the same day, and you feel bad about complaining to jasmin because she'd going through the same thing. she lost elaine today, too, and it's not fair for you to whine about it when she's probably just as upset as you are.

"thank you," you say as you and chris approach your dorm.

you guys talked the entire way there. well, more like you talked while he listened. you felt bad for speaking without giving him a chance to respond, but he insisted that he doesn't mind. and plus, you're only talking so much due to your nerves.

what if elaine tells him something bad about you, and it makes chris hate you too? what if she sleeps with him the way she did with kade? well, you and chris aren't a thing, so that wouldn't bother you. well. it shouldn't. but it does. the image of him and her? it's- ugh, it's fucking unbearable. and you have no reason to feel that way, since you guys aren't dating. i mean, he could have a girlfriend, and you wouldn't know.

"of course," chris replies as though he was doing something unquestionable.

you stand there for a second, waiting for him to leave. but he doesn't. he's waiting for you to let him in. but. god, you can't do that. what if elaine is in there? finally, you decide to bite the bullet. you fumble with your keys and unlock the door, holding it open for him to enter through.

chris thanks you quickly, walking into your and elaine's shared dorm room. it's decorated to be cozy and warm — a theme that the two of your agreed would make it homier. you love the interior designing, and it makes you happy. but now, you can't think about anything except the image of kade on top of elaine. on your guys's shared couch.

you enter after chris, not turning to facet before you lock the door with the key and stuff it into your pocket. but when you finally turn around, you instantly run into his backside. you side step, wondering what made him stop walking so abruptly. then, you see-

oh.

of fucking course.

kade is sitting on the beige-colored couch with a packs of ice pressed to his face in various spots. while elaine straddles his lap, holding the ice for him as she speaks in gentle, soothing tones. they don't seem to notice you and chris at first, seeming to be too busy flirting with one another. but this could just be an act. perhaps they're trying to look unbothered. and if so, it's working.

elaine leans forward and kisses kade passionately. it lasts long enough that you begin to feel uncomfortable. you turn to chris with a forced smile, "well. thanks for walking me back."

he looks at you with a worried expression, seeing directly through your facade. he knows you and elaine were best friends — your entire high school knew you guys to be the perfect duo. inseparable. and he also knows that kade is a dick. you're not sure if he's aware that you guys dated, but chris definitely hates his guts now, after what happened at the party.

"you can stay with me and my brothers tonight, if you want." chris offers. "we talked the school into giving us a huge dorm so the three of us could share. but it's bigger than we expected, so we have tons of room for you if you don't want to stay here for the night. and none of us would blame you, by the way."

he gives elaine and kade a side-glance. the glare that chris shoots them would likely have been deadly if they were to have looked up at him. but they're too busy with each other to even notice his eyes on them.

"i couldn't ask you to do that," you say with another forced smile, "i'll be fine for the night. you've done more than enough."

chris looks like he wants to protest against this, but he shuts his mouth and decides not to. he nods, agreeing with your decision. "i'm not going to force you, but the offer remains. even if you change your mind in the middle of the night, i'll let you in without any questions."

you smile at this. genuinely. chris has been so insanely kind to you, and you simply don't understand what you've done to deserve it. yeah, you guys were friends a few years back. but chris is being so generous.

overcome with emotion, you wrap your arms around his neck. you hug him tightly, and he hugs you back. you bury your head in the crook of his collarbone, and squeeze him as though you would break without him there to hold you together. like a vase that needs tape to stay standing.

when you finally let go, you're forced to wipe at your eyes to refrain from crying. that would be insanely embarrassing, so you refuse to let any tears fall. you're sure chris wouldn't mind, but you would. you'd rather die than let him see you sob over your ex best friend and kade. ugh. even his name makes your throat close up.

"this is so insensitive." elaine says, causing you and chris to both turn your heads in her direction. you'd forgotten about her. well, that's a complete lie. but you'd like to believe it.

she's still sitting on kade's lap, but they're no longer making out shamelessly. her arms are draped across his shoulders, and his hands are under her shirt, but it's better than before, at least.

"y'know that's the prick who did this to kade, don't you?" elaine asks, directing her question to you.

"i'm aware." you reply, keeping your voice as level as possible. the feeling of having chris behind you makes you feel ten times as more confident, knowing he'd back you up against kade. you don't feel small against her anymore like you did at the party. it's nice. having someone on your side as well. it's not 2 v 1 any longer.

"then why the fuck is he even here? it's not his dorm." kade asks with a scoff and an eye roll, as though the scoff wasn't enough. you feel as chris's posture straightens behind you, and you give him a side glance that only the two of you could notice. he understands, and instantly relaxes — knowing that this is your problem, not his.

"i was there when the fight happened." you tell her, ignoring kade's attempt to piss chris off. "where were you, elaine? having sex with damien? oh, or was it vance? sorry. i can't keep up."

elaine looks like she could explode with rage, her face turning red as her teeth clenching together. it's a sight that you'd love to relish in, but you learned your lesson earlier today. sometimes it's best not to add on more and more. that's asking for a fight.

so you simply give her a final smile, turning to chris. you give him an apologetic look before standing on your toes and pressing your lips to his.

the kiss was an attempt to make elaine and kade annoyed, but you find yourself genuinely enjoying it. you snake your arms behind chris's neck, and he places his hands on your waist, holding your firmly against him. time seems to slow around you guys, as if the universe had been waiting for this moment for as long as you were. it no longer matters who's in the room. you only care about chris.

"i'm so sorry," you whisper against his lips between kisses, "just go with it."

"don't you dare apologize for this." he says. you feel his grip on your waist tighten, and you smile against him, returning to the kiss with an entirely different intention.

before, it was just to piss off your two nemesis. but now, you're doing it for your own enjoyment. because you actually want to. because you actually have feelings for chris. well. you think? you never saw him as a crush before this. but now, you're not sure you'll ever be able to look at him in the same light.

christopher owen. your christopher owen.

@kasqnxx @lvrsparadise @prettysturniolo @strniolo @urmyslxt @cupidsturniolo @opheliaofficial07 @thetriplets3 @sturn1olo-ffics @uhnanix @deadxrx @kitaysworld @lovelysturniolo @wilmalovegood @ladylokilaufeyson5 @sturniolopepsi @strnilolo @knowingnothingnoel @its-jennarose @lea0518 @slaysturniolo @sturnlover @tcvazq @ifilwtmfc @poopydroopt @cl0esblogg @ellaynaa @itzdarling

#luvsturniolo!! #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #party #college au #angst #angst with a happy ending #fanfic rec #youtube #youtuber

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Hi, I have a college Matt Murdock x Reader request.

You are a virgin and you have your first time with Matt, he is totally loving and careful but then he loses his self control because of the way you feel, his smell and how you taste and gets rougher which you don't mind because it is the best night you have had.

Hi nonnie, I hope you're still around, I've been holding onto this ask for quite a while and just got round to it yesterday!

Anyway, writing this had me absolutely sweating so I hope you enjoy 😅

Tags/warnings: female reader is a virgin, Matt gets a bit carried away but nothing too crazy. E.

W/C: ~3k

Please reblog and feel free to leave comments if you enjoyed, sharing is caring ❤️

|| More ||

It's a Friday afternoon after classes like any other. Your roommate has gone home to visit her little sister, and that means you've got a whole weekend to yourself. A weekend that you can spend with Matt. 

You'd always manage to find some quiet place to make out, grabbing every opportunity you could to have him hold you and kiss you giddy.

It's all you'd ever done with him so far, all you'd ever done with anyone if you were completely honest, but you were starting to feel like maybe you wanted something more.

You'd both sit on either his or your bed, depending on whose roommate was in or out. Maybe you'd be chatting away telling each other about your day, then there would be a silent moment before he would lean in and gently press his lips to yours. Sometimes he'd warn you, but most of the time he'd catch you unawares excitedly, with light chaste kisses at first, but then his hand would come up to cradle the side of your jaw and loosely caress around your throat as he deepened it and you let his devilish tongue slide against yours.

And oh, when that happened you felt tingling throughout your body, and a dull throbbing ache between your legs, it felt like you were empty. As if something was missing from inside you. You squeeze your thighs together to try to relieve the feeling, your underwear feeling sticky. You moan softly into his mouth as your kisses grow in intensity, becoming more frenzied and sloppy.

Matt pulls away suddenly, both of you panting hard, just mere inches from each other.

"Is something wrong, are you alright? Do you want to stop?" His concern is adorable and you're grateful for it. Your fingers tangle in the hem of his soft t-shirt as you try to process just what it is you want and how to even answer him.

"N-no, I mean, I don't wanna stop… I-" 

Matt tilts his head as he tunes into your heavy breathing, the rapid heartbeat in your chest, and the riotous thrum of blood rushing between your legs. His thumb gently strokes across your cheek.

"Do you... want to do more?" He tentatively asks. You had been seeing each other for just over two months but he was intent on going at your pace. He didn't want to rush you, even though the taste of you on his tongue made him want to explore every inch of you with it.

You cast your eyes down even though he can't see you. "Matt, I… y'know I've never really done anything more. With anyone before." You start to get up from the bed. "I'm sorry, I know you've probably been with loads of girls and I'm just-"

Matt catches hold of your wrist gently. "Hey, that's more than okay. And I don't think I've got quite the reputation you think I have…" he smiles and it calms you. "We don't have to do anything if you don't want to, I'm more than happy to sit here and just kiss you all day long."

You grin. "I love kissing you Matt, you're so good at it, you don't know how good it makes me feel…"

Matt does but he doesn't let on, just shifts a little closer to you on the bed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "It feels good for me too, you're so… soft."

His lips brush your cheekbone and lay a trail of short kisses towards your mouth where he teasingly licks the tip of his tongue along the seam of your lips making you moan out loud.

"Mm, I love it when you do that." He whispers, and you feel that sensation again although it's far stronger than ever before.

Your breathing is shallow and stuttering as your nerves almost get the better of you. 

"Please Matt, I need you to touch me…"

He nods slowly, kissing you again before his voice drops low and you feel the dampness in your panties growing. "Yeah? Where? Show me what you want, what you like."

You close your eyes, almost embarrassed at how needy you are as you take his hand, slowly guiding him up and under your oversized shirt. As he makes contact with the curve of your breast you both react, Matt smiling softly as you let out a small gasp of pleasure as he cups and strokes you through your bra. The scent of your skin is slowly filling up his senses entirely, the strong and sweet smell of your arousal unmistakeable and unavoidable as he rubs his thumb over your hardening nipple and you scootch even closer to him, clambering onto his lap.

As he embraces you and you kiss each other again, your hips start to move of their own accord. You can't help yourself, rubbing yourself firmly against his thigh over and over, chasing the addictive feeling it brings to soothe the burning need at your core. You pant into the crook of his neck as he continues fondling your chest. Matt catches his fingers under your chin, tipping up your face towards his and desperately licking into your mouth. You whimper in frustration, squeezing your thighs around his as you try to chase a feeling of release that seems to be getting further and further away from you.

"Matt please… please."

He shushes you gently, his hands coming to rest lightly on your hips. "Hey it's okay, I'm here. Just tell me what you need."

You open your eyes and finally see the flush of pink dusting his cheeks, the way his lips look so full and biteable from all the kissing you've been doing. You shift in his lap and then apologise as he appears to hiss in discomfort. It's only then that you feel and see the way his cock is hard and straining against his pants. Your hand instinctively moves to palm over it and he lets out a shuddering breath as you stroke him.

"Oh…" is all you can say, the aching emptiness inside unbearable, the slick wetness between your legs growing stronger.

"F-fuck-, sweetheart…" Matt gasps out, rocking his pelvis up into your touch. 

"Matt, I want you to…" as you squeeze your fingers around his covered length he feels so big, and you've never had anything other than a small vibrator inside of you. "I want you to be my first."

Matt's dazed by you but his head is clear enough to be mindful about what this means.

"Sweetie, there's nothing I want more, but only if you're absolutely sure. I don't want to make you feel like you have to do anything you want to." 

"I do want to, I'm sure." You hesitate. "Does it hurt? I've heard sometimes it can hurt, and it's just… you're so big, and I don't know if it will fit."

Matt kisses you softly. "If it hurts, you're doing it wrong. Don't worry, I know you're nervous, I am too. We'll take it real slow."

"Y-you're nervous? Why?" 

"Because I want you to have the best time, I want to make sure you feel good!"

You wrap your arms around him in a hug. "I trust you Matty."

Matt smiles and kisses your cheek as he tugs gently at your shirt. "Can I take this off?" 

You nod and raise your arms as he carefully pulls it up and over your head, and then peels his own shirt off before dipping down to pepper kisses along your collarbone and the warm plush skin of your breasts.

You hum with growing excitement, your hands reaching for him and exploring over the dark hair on his chest, following the tempting trail down his belly to the waistband of his jeans. 

"Can I?" You ask, fingertips tapping at his belt buckle. He nods and gets up to undo it, but first he fishes his wallet from his pocket, taking out a foil wrapper and putting it to one side before he pushes his jeans and socks off leaving him in black boxer shorts. You reach behind you to unhook your bra, dropping it on the floor and then shimmying out of your own pants before you sit back on the bed. 

You take a steadying breath. "Okay, I think I'm ready."

Matt smiles as he leans towards you, catching your upper lip between his as his hand skims up along your side. He guides you to lay back on your bed, and you shiver and moan as he sucks and kisses at a spot just under your ear that seems to connect directly to your pussy.

Your hands fumble for him, roaming experimentally over his body, sliding down to feel and grab his perfect ass as he encourages you to hike your knees up and spread your legs wide. You jolt at first at the sensitive touch of his fingertips along your inner thigh, but then you feel that throbbing urge return as he teases his way ever closer to your panties. 

"Oh, Matt…"

He listens in to your thrumming pulse again, checking that you're comfortable before he amps his teasing up a notch, stroking a finger down the middle of your clothed pussy with a featherlight touch.

Your legs shake and you fight to not clamp them together. It's the first time a guy has ever seen you in your underwear nevermind touched you like this and you feel so exposed, but Matt is taking his time just like he promised and the soft, sure movement of his fingers on your most sensitive parts has you yearning for more.

Matt can sense the fresh flood of arousal leaking from you and has to rub his palm down over his angry cock trying to stave off the primal urge to push inside you right now. He presses his fingers more firmly against your mound, running his fingers up and down until you're soaked through and begging for more.

He tugs gently at the elastic of your underwear as he asks you if he can take them off and you nod so vigorously it makes you dizzy.

"Just try to relax, any time you feel uncomfortable or you want to stop please tell me, okay?"

"Yes Matty, I will." You watch and feel his hand sliding up your inner thigh and then he's touching your bare pussy lips, easing his fingers between them to where you feel slippery and slick.

"So wet…" His low almost growling tone sets you on fire.

"Ohh, oh…" your head tilts back and you can't help your eyes close as Matt slowly draws his fingers over you, gathering up your arousal and spreading it messily all over. 

"Is this okay?" He asks, and you answer with a long, high moan. His fingers feel so much better than your own, and if that's just his fingers, what must his cock feel like? Your body jumps like you've touched a live wire when the pad of his forefinger moves to glide over the small bundle of nerves at the apex of your pussy. This was what you needed, direct stimulation to your clit. 

Matt hums and chuckles as you lift your hips up to chase his touch. 

"Feels good?"

You laugh and moan at the same time. "Matt, you don't know, oh wow you don't know!"

He continues to rub slow circles around your throbbing bud and you arch off the bed again with a gasp.

"Mm, I think I can imagine." He positions himself over you on all fours and you feel him sliding his finger lower and lower, tentatively pressing near your entrance. You gasp, biting your lip and unable to stop trembling at the anticipation. His lips brush the skin of your neck again and he tugs at your earlobe, his voice pouring into you like honey.

"You're so beautiful sweetheart, so sexy, I want to make you feel amazing… can I fuck you with my fingers? Will you let me do that, pretty girl?"

Your legs fall open wider at his filthy praise and he takes the invitation to slowly and gently push a finger inside your warmth. Your breath comes out in a stutter and you pull him closer, as he starts to slowly fuck you with it, eventually adding another as you begin to relax more. You blush at the sound it makes, the slick squelching as he slides his fingers in and out and you start to clench around them. His dick throbs, leaking into the fabric of his boxers. "Baby, that's it, such a good girl you're doing so well. Do you think you're ready for me?"

When he withdraws his fingers you scrabble at the waistband of his underwear in answer, urging him to take them off. You just want him, need him, need to feel him inside you completely. "Please!"

The way you beg for him is like a red rag to a bull. When he pulls his boxers off and his cock springs up slapping against his stomach you reach for him. He could almost cum like this as you wrap your warm, delicate fingers around his length feeling the soft, velvety skin for the first time.

He feels around on the bed for the condom wrapper and carefully rips it open. You watch as he checks it's the right way before rolling it on, mesmerised as he takes himself in his hand, pumping his cock a few times before he positions himself over you again. He slides the tip between your folds, coating it in your lubricant before lining up and starting to press in slowly.

His full lips meet yours, sharing breath as you open for him. It feels like you're being stretched impossibly wide as he nudges the thick head of his cock barely inside. You're holding your breath, he can't fit, he can't possibly-

You're so tight and hot and the halted whimper that you make has Matt twitching with arousal, but he pauses.

"You okay?" 

You nod wide eyed, trying your best to relax, torn between the need to feel full of him and the uncertainty. Matt's got you though, caressing your body, slipping his hand down between you to circle your clit again. The focused touch pulls your mind away from the initial discomfort and you very quickly find your body relaxing and you cry out at the sensation as he pushes into you.

"That's my good girl," he purrs, as slowly, inch by thick inch his gorgeous cock is buried entirely within you. You think nothing could feel better until he asks if you're ready for him to move and then the slow drag of him against your inner walls has you howling.

You can feel him grinning into your skin, murmuring endless encouragement, compliments and praise as he moves slow and steady with you. He urges you to lift up your legs to wrap around his hips, and the change in angle punches an ecstatic cry from you as his cock hits somewhere deep inside that you've never felt before. 

You're driving Matt crazy. You're literally all around him, he's drowning in your delicious scent, his ears burning as you sound so innocent and pure with the desperate little moans he pushes from you. And the feel of you? It's almost too much. If he's honest he's struggling to hold himself back, you're so plush, soft, tight and wet…

He can't take it, he needs to let the devil out.

"Sweetheart, god you feel so good. Can I go f-faster?" 

The please god let me fuck you till you scream is left unspoken.

You hold him closer in your arms feeling his full body shiver as your pussy squeezes around him. "Uhuh, yes!"

At your affirmation he's a caged beast set free. He suddenly snaps his hips, thrusting in and out of you hard and fast. Matt's losing all his restraint, he can't help himself between the sinful sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, the rhythmic creaking of your dorm room bed and your short breathless gasps…

"Matty, oh god…" 

You can feel it coming, the knot in your belly getting tighter and tighter. He feels it too, driving deep into you chasing after it like he might never feel this way again, his fingers reaching between you once more this time sloppy and imprecise. It doesn't matter, your eyes almost roll back in your skull, your silken walls start to flutter around him.

Fuck fuck fuck.

"Matt! Oh Matt it feels so good- I-I think I'm gonna come!"

"Fuck, come for me sweetheart, let me feel you… oh god please- fucking come for me now!"

He ruts into you desperately with fast, shallow strokes feeling your cunt almost strangle his cock as you fall apart around him. Your mouth drops open as you reach your peak, crying out as Matt groans long and low, filling the condom with his spend at the same moment. His hips stutter then slow, your own orgasm continuing to draw gorgeous moans from your pretty lips as your aftershocks keep on milking him for all he has.

You feel like you've been dunked in a huge tank of warm honey. Your bones have melted. Your brain has melted. You can't think, can't talk.

Breathless and sated, Matt's careful but you still yelp when he pulls out. He blearily ties off the condom and collapses down next to you, reaching for your face and kissing your cheek sweetly as you both fight to get your breathing under control again.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry sweetheart, you just felt so damn good I just couldn't- oh god please forgive me…I didn't mean to-"

You rake your fingers through his hair, pushing the sweaty strands out of his face. 

"Oh Matt, why on earth are you apologising?! That… that was amazing! I've never felt that way before, it was so- oh god, I don't even know how to describe it!"

You laugh and he smiles, relieved, starting to laugh with you as you hold him close still buzzing from your lovemaking.

"So… do you think you might want to do it again sometime?" Matt smirks at you and you nod with a contented sigh.

"Hmm, I think I just might!"

#matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock smut #college!matt murdock x female reader

[chvoswxtch]

hello! I hope ur having a good day! I have a request if you’re up to it! we’ve always had Professor matt so to spice things up can we have a college!matt x professor!reader? he’s actively trying to gain the pretty professor’s attention and she’s slowly falling for it. you can make it fluffy or spicy or smutty. its all up to you!

hi nonnie!

I hope you're having a good day as well! I genuinely loved this idea bc we all know matty is a flirt but I feel like college!matty is a HUGE flirt and would totally go after the pretty professor. and honestly, she would eat that shit up, let's be real. but who wouldn't???

thank you so much for the request! ❤️

warning: contains mentions of sexual content (minors please dni), swearing word count: 3k

office hours.

When Matt was reminded by his advisor that he needed to take a literature course to satisfy his degree plan, his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. He had been continuously putting it off, but with one final semester left of undergrad, he couldn’t graduate without it. It wasn’t that Matt didn’t enjoy reading, he simply just wasn’t interested in taking anything that didn’t have to do with his program. He’d read enough “classic literature” and written enough analysis essays in high school, and he wasn’t looking forward to going through that agonizing process again. Reluctantly, he signed up for the last course available.

Taking a seat in the very back of the small classroom, Matt set up his laptop and plugged an earbud into his ear, prepared to appear engaged while he got started on a project for another class. All around him seats filled up with other students, but it wasn’t until he caught the sweet scent of pink grapefruit and blue wisteria that his fingers stilled over his keyboard. He turned his head slightly to the side towards the wall as the scent rushed down the hall, accompanied by a racing heartbeat. Matt’s head snapped towards the front when you walked through the classroom door slightly out of breath, heat in your cheeks from the run, and also a twinge of embarrassment. 

“Probably not the best first impression to be late on the first day of class, but in my defense, I’m still learning how to navigate New York. I can’t promise I won’t be late again, so we won’t be counting tardies in this class, to a reasonable limit.”

An anxious giggle left your lips, and luckily everyone seemed to find the humor in your admission. Matt’s lips parted slightly at the sound, and he quickly ripped the earbud out of his ear as you introduced yourself.

“Hi everyone. My name is Y/N Y/L/N, please call me Y/N. This is my first year teaching, and you guys are my second class, so we’re figuring this all out together.”

Another timid giggle left your lips, and Matt clenched his fist tightly as the sound settled in his ears. 

“I don’t expect perfection, I just want you guys to do your best. We aren’t reading things some arrogant ‘expert’ decided was a classic, or writing mind numbing papers identifying every literary device to prove you know what they are. I want to show you works that move you and make you think…make you feel. And I want to know what they make you think, and how they make you feel. The only way to fail this class is to not try.”

God your voice. It was as sweet as your perfume and had a velvet cadence that stuck to Matt’s ears like honey. He wanted to listen to you talk for hours, about anything. Your heart continued to beat wildly in your chest throughout the duration of class, and you fiddled with the rings on your fingers as you paced slowly around. You were incredibly nervous. Matt could feel it in the tremble of your fingers, hear it in the slight shake of your voice, and feel it in the rush of blood that never left your cheeks. He found it endearing that you were so anxious, and could hear how passionate you were in the way you spoke. Everything about you drew him in, and before he could stop himself, he was marching up to your desk once everyone filed out of the room to introduce himself.

“Excuse me? Hi, my name is-”

“Matthew Murdock, right?”

Matt abruptly paused, and he swallowed the sound that threatened to come out of his mouth at the way you said his name.

“J-just Matt, uh…yeah.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Matt. I’m Y/N.”

Your hand was so soft and small clasped in his own, and he could faintly smell the scent of blackberry from a lotion you’d smoothed over your body the previous evening. 

“It’s nice to meet you as well.”

“You have perfect timing, I was actually just about to come to you.”

Matt’s ears perked up at that, and he stood up a little straighter, already missing your touch as you slowly let go of his hand.

“You were?”

“Yeah, this is for you.”

You lightly wrapped your fingers around his wrist, carefully guiding his hand to a folder that you had outstretched in your hand. Matt cocked his head to the side slightly as he let his fingers glide over the folder, pausing as they ran over a braille label that had his name on it. Taking the folder into his hands, he opened it to find stacks of paper in braille on the inside.

“It’s the syllabus, a list of the works we’re studying, and the first section of notes we’re going to go over. I wasn’t sure if you were able to access the digital copies. I’m still trying to figure out how the portal works, honestly.”

There was a timid smile that stretched across your mouth, and Matt could hear a slight bit of nerves in your confession. For a moment he was stunned silent by the kind gesture, swallowing thickly as he closed the folder and offered you a small smile in return.

“I-uh…yeah, I was able to. But um…I-thank you. For this, I uh…I appreciate it.”

“Of course. I like to have tangible copies of things, myself. Helps keep me organized. Or, at least I think it does. Maybe it’s a sensory thing and I’m just tricking myself into thinking it’s making me more productive.”

Matt couldn’t help but chuckle as you giggled softly, nodding his head in agreement.

“I can understand that.”

“Well if there’s ever anything you need, any help or accommodations at all, please don’t hesitate to tell me. All my information is on the syllabus, and I practically live here since I never go home, so my office is always open.”

“Good to know.”

From that day forward, Matt sat in the front row for every single class. He blitzed through every single text on the syllabus, always prepared to participate in the discussions, and approached every assignment early. He wanted so badly to impress you, and his chest swelled with pride every time you complimented one of his thoughts or ideas, or stayed behind after class to offer your positive verbal feedback on one of his assignments. 

Matt knew he wasn’t the only one that wanted the pretty, young professor’s attention. He could hear the way the other students in class talked about you, which caused a tide of possessiveness to rise in his chest. Matt could also feel your affect on them as you smiled in their direction, or offered a compliment to one of their remarks, and it made jealousy simmer in his bloodstream. He was determined to be your favorite.

He found himself constantly stopping by your office hours to feign needing help or a second opinion on his approach to a paper, mainly as an excuse to talk to you alone, but also to scratch that itch of praise when you confirmed he was on the right track. Matt knew he was smart, and he knew he wrote incredible papers, but he liked hearing that come from you. 

He loved when you complimented his intelligence. Was it wrong to fake being unsure just to hear you say, “That’s exactly right, Matt” or “I hadn’t even thought of it that way, but I love that idea”? Probably. But it didn’t feel wrong. It felt good.

Matt had to be careful playing dumb. You both knew he was smart, so he had to switch his tactics up. He found himself asking for other recommendations for reading material from you, wanting to know what your favorite works were, going out to buy them and consume them just to get a glimpse into your head, and then listen to the passion in your voice as you explained why they meant so much to you. He liked that you asked him questions too, questions he didn’t hear you ask any of the others when they stopped by. You asked him about how his other classes were going, how his day had been, about himself and his friends, and he could tell you genuinely cared about the answers. Every second he spent with you, he felt the crush he had on you getting stronger and stronger. He knew the way he felt about you was wrong. You were his professor, and he shouldn’t be having the thoughts about you that he did.

He shouldn’t feel like his heart was going to beat out of his chest every time you smiled in his direction and showered his mind in praise. He shouldn’t feel the spark of something more when you let him hold your arm as you guided him towards your office, reveling in the feeling of your soft skin beneath his fingertips. He shouldn’t stroke his cock to the sound of your voice from a recorded lecture, waiting to let himself come until it got to the part of the recording where you said his name so sweetly. He shouldn’t be waking up with a wet patch on his sweats after yet another wet dream about fucking you over your desk. All of this was wrong, and the good Catholic boy in him knew that.

But he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Because every time he started to feel guilty about what he was doing, he reminded himself of the way your body reacted to him.

Matt was careful with his flirting, crafting his sentences in a way that could be played off as casual conversation or banter, but riddled with undertones that could only be understood by the person given the cipher. The blood that rushed into your cheeks when Matt complimented you back or said something teasing that made you giggle only fueled his confidence to get bolder and bolder as the weeks went by. 

He heard the uptick in your heart rate when he mentioned how soothing he found your voice, and the way it pounded beneath your ribs when he “accidentally” brushed his hand over your exposed thigh to reach for his backpack. He felt the warmth that pooled in your cheeks when he stopped by with your favorite coffee, and when he confessed that you were one of the best professor’s he’d ever had; definitely “his favorite”, he had said. He should’ve felt bad that he could possibly ruin a career that you were clearly very passionate about, but the selfish part of his brain was screaming that you felt it too. 

With spring break approaching soon, and the thought of going a whole week without being around you, Matt devised a plan to finally make you his.

The building was empty considering most professors and students had left the previous day to get a head start on vacation plans, but Matt smiled to himself hearing your familiar heartbeat coming from your office. You had made class today optional, in case anyone was traveling or needed the break, and Matt had hoped that he would’ve been the only one to show up. To his disappointment, about half the class was there, but he knew he would get you alone soon enough. Matt waited until your office hours were just about to end, in case any other student had some last minute question, and when he was certain that it was just the two of you alone, he raised his knuckles to knock softly on the worn wood of your open door.

A quiet gasp left your lips, clearly surprised by the company, and Matt had to stop the cocky smirk that threatened to take over his mouth at the way your heart started to beat faster noticing his presence.

“Matt, hey.”

“Hey. I didn’t miss your office hours, did I?”

“Uh…nope. You have exactly a minute.”

Matt’s mouth split into a wide toothy grin at the playful tone in your voice, chuckling as he followed the familiar path from the door to the chair that was directly in front of your desk.

“Well, I’ll make this quick then. I know you have very important spring break plans to get to.”

“Oh yeah. Super important. I mean, my takeout isn’t gonna order itself.”

Matt dropped his backpack on the right side of the chair, folding up his cane as he sank back into the plush cushion and tossed it down by his feet. He pulled off his glasses and set them on your desk, a habit he had gotten into since you’d let it slip that you preferred it when he didn’t wear them.

I feel like you hide behind those, sometimes. It’s nice to get to see all of you, Matt.

His tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips as he fixed his gaze in your direction, a timid smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“I actually need to ask a favor of you.”

“Of course, Matt. Whatever you need. What can I do?”

Matt gripped onto his own thigh to steady himself, your immediate response and sweet voice hitting his cock before they even reached his ears. His lips parted slightly when you sat up a little straighter in your chair, leaning in closer over your desk with a warm smile on your lips.

“I need a letter of recommendation for the law program.”

“And you’re asking me?”

Matt couldn’t help but laugh at the surprised tone of your voice, shaking his head slowly as he leaned in closer to your desk and rested his elbows on the surface.

“I already have a few from my other professors, but my advisor mentioned having one from a professor outside of my main area of study would make me seem more…well rounded.”

Matt should’ve felt horrible about lying. He didn’t actually need a letter of recommendation from you. He’d applied to the law program months ago, and had already gotten in, but he would confess that later.

“Mm, so I’m next in line to make you look good?”

“Well, you are my favorite, and you have a way of making everything sound beautiful. If I’d taken your class a long time ago like I was supposed to, I probably would’ve asked you first before anyone else.”

Matt didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath you took, or the way your face instantly became a few degrees warmer.

“You wouldn’t have been able to take my class earlier, Matt. This is my first year, remember? You would’ve been stuck with someone else.”

“I guess I forget sometimes because you’re so good at this. But, that’s true. I don’t think I would’ve liked who I got stuck with as much as I like you. I’m glad I waited for you.”

Matt did his best to stay calm as he heard you swallow thickly, your breathing becoming a little more shallow as your heart rate drummed loudly in his ears.

“That’s…really nice of you to say, Matt-”

“I mean it.”

A blanket of tension suddenly surrounded the two of you, and his lips parted slightly as he caught a faint shudder course through you. Your fingers clutched the hem of your dress where it settled high on your thighs, digging your nails lightly into your palms through the fabric. Matt was waiting for your body to give him a signal, indisputable proof that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, before he crossed that line the two of you had been dancing around.

“Um…when do you need it by?”

“The earlier the better, I’m a little behind. But, take your time. I’d like this to be as…real and honest as possible.”

“I…um…I can have it ready for you by the time we come back from spring break.”

“That’s perfect, thank you. I really appreciate you doing this for me. I appreciate everything that you do for me, truly.”

“O-of course. It’s my job, Matt.”

Matt’s voice dropped an octave lower as he cocked his head to the side slightly, running his tongue along his bottom lip before the corner of his mouth curled upwards into a devilish smirk. 

“No. I think it’s more than that.”

Bingo.

The second he felt you press your thighs together under the desk and the enticing scent of your arousal hit his nose, Matt knew he had you. He rose from the chair steadily, gliding around the side of your desk slowly like a predator circling in on its prey, grabbing onto the sides of your chair as he bent over so that your faces were merely an inch apart.

“I think you know that too, sweetheart.”

“Matt-”

“I think if I put my hand between these pretty thighs, you’d be just as wet for me as I am hard for you.”

A shocked gasp flew past your lips as you sank back further into your chair, fighting the urge to spread your thighs to let Matt test his own theory, and averting your gaze from the prominent bulge in his jeans. 

“We can’t-”

Matt lightly grasped your chin in his hand as he forced you to look at him. He delicately traced his thumb along your bottom lip, leaning in ever so slightly to bump his nose against yours as he inhaled your scent deeply.

“You’ve done so much for me. Been so good to me, sweetheart. Shown me so much kindness. I’d like to repay that kindness, and show you how much I appreciate you. You gonna let me do that?”

A soft whine of desperation sounded in your throat, and a huge grin split across Matt’s mouth as you leaned further into his touch. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

“Yes you are. Because you’re my girl. My good girl.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x f!reader #college!matt murdock #college!matt x professor!reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock request #matt murdock smut #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil request #daredevil smut

[galaxysgal]

𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 || 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐤

pairing: college best friend matt x fem reader

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

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

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

wordcount: 5.5k

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Matt, please. I want you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, please,” you answer.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes- Matt please, move.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” you say.

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

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

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

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

“Finally?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

You nod, “I’d love that.”

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

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

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

“Tired?” he asks.

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

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

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

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #college matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you

[devils-dares]

Top of the Class

summary: you and matt could not be further from each other, he's unlike you in every way and you hate him for it, but something always draws the two of you back to each other.

pairing: college!matt murdock x fem!reader

warnings: NSFW 18+ minors DNI, this is basically hate sex with a little softness at the end, semi-established relationship?? (they're enemies)

wordcount: 858

a/n: first smut whaaaat?

feedback is always appreciated!

-----

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The noise of his headboard hitting the wall did absolutely nothing to deter you from making even more noise, the pistoning of his hips stealing away any semblance of thought from you. His large forearms bracket your head, his lips mere inches from yours.

"How's it feel, huh? How's it feel being fucked 'by the likes of me'?" He uses your earlier words against you, having overheard a conversation between you and your friends.

You moan pathetically in response, nails dragging down his back to leave raised red tracks in their wake, he curses and drops his head, sucking marks into your skin.

"Did you finally realize you're nothing but a whore? Fucking around with all those prep boys yet you're sneaking into my room at night just to get a good fuckin’? Such a naughty girl." One of his hands leaves the support he has on the bed to hold your neck, squeezing just enough to limit your air intake and have that delicious emptiness in your brain become evermore delirious.

"Can't even fucking talk, hm? You gonna cum?" You nod, and he laughs at you, "Poor you, too bad. Hold it." You whine at his words but do as he says. You have no reason to, but his domineering position has you in literally and figuratively a chokehold, so you comply anyways.

He sits up, grabbing your thighs to push your legs over his shoulders. He gives you no warning but a little smirk and a dark chuckle before he resumes fucking you. He hits that spot, which annoyingly, only he can hit and you squeal.

"Don't hold back," he whispers, "I want everyone in this goddamned house to hear you scream.'' He starts thrusting harder, resulting in you and the bed being the loudest you possibly can.

"Matty, Matty, please," you say and he laughs at you again.

"What are you begging for, brat? Use your big girl words for a change, thought you were top of your class." You're afraid to request, however, feeling as though he'd make fun of you for what you wanted.

"Say what you want, whatever you wish I'll grant it." He says, and you're left wondering how he can exert so much energy yet have so much breath left to talk to you.

"Closer, pl-please." His hips stutter for half a second, and then he picks up the pace.

"Awh, you want me closer? Alright babybug." You hated when he called you petnames, but so long as he granted your wish, which he did, you didn't care.

"Gonna cum!" You squeal into his shoulder. He brings you impossibly closer to his body, and you can feel his abs flex with every thrust.

"Matty please," you beg, "can I cum?" He tuts at you.

"You're so far gone, aren't you, pretty girl? Yes, you can cum for me." He feels you tighten around him, grunting as you arch your back into him and practically scream his name. He fucks you through it, and only slows when he feels you squeezing his shoulder.

"Too much?" He asks softly, and you nod.

"I can stop, princess." You shake your head quickly.

"I want-" You have to take a breath to finish your statement, the aftershocks of your orgasm still washing over you, "want you to finish in me." He squeezes your hips and drops his head to your shoulder.

"Can't just say stuff like that, angel." You feel him tenderly resume his thrusts, groaning deeply into your neck as you squeeze around him.

You feel him throb inside of you, and if the tightening of his hands on your hips is anything to go by, he's close. You bring one of your hands up to his hair and give a gentle tug, coaxing him to "give it to me, Matty." He groans, and you feel him fill you up. You convince him to stay, his softening cock still tucked up inside of you while he lays his body weight on you.

"You alright?" He was always kind and gentle to you in the moments after, a stark contrast to your relationship outside the bedroom. You nod, feeling your eyes droop.

"I gotta go. Gonna fall asleep if I stay."

"Stay," he talks softly as if he were trying to lull you to dreamland, "I'll take care of you. Let me clean you up and dress you, I'll grab you a glass of water."

"You don't ha-"

"I'm offering, angel, let me." You nod and he does just as he says.

-----

The two of you lay in his bed, he's dressed in just boxers and you've thrown on panties and his shirt. Your ear is pressed against his chest, his heartbeat willing you to sleep.

"Thank you." You say sleepily.

"For?" He asks softly, hands running up and down your bare thighs.

"Letting me in."

"I'm not quite sure what that means, angel." But he won't get an answer, for you've fallen asleep on his chest. He vows to your sleeping figure that he won't move until you've woken, pressing a secret kiss to your forehead.

"Thank you too, angel."

#matt murdock #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #college!matt murdock #marvel #marvel smut #marvel fanfic #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel x fem!reader #marvel x female reader #daredevil smut #daredevil #dev writes

[saintmurd0ck]

just the tip, princess | matt murdock x f!reader | one-shot

masterlist | art | thoughts

summary: it's finals week. maybe a study night turn truth-or-dare is the one thing you need to finally relax.

warnings: college matt murdock, drinking (only a little), religious references (BLASPHEMY), matt's cocky personality, oral m and f receiving, protected p in v, orgasm denial, penetration denial (i think?), look there's a lot in this

a/n: in honour of all the recent dd news, i give you this: an unholy anthology of self-indulgence. that is all.

accompanying songs: so it goes… (taylor swift) & false god (taylor swift)

Matt’s voice breaks your concentration, tearing you away from your short-response test booklet. “One more practice question, and then we’ll take a break, deal?” 

You fling a hand out to the side, swatting at him absentmindedly until your finger finds its mark against his lips. “Shh, Matty, one sec, let me finish this.”

He gives you a reluctant sigh as your pencil scratches away at the paper, movement flickering in the corner of your eye as he waves his hand around his feet. His fingers close around something quietly tucked away to the side of your desk, liquid sloshing in the bottle as he brings it up to his lips.

“Matthew Murdock,” you mock-gasp, eyeing him with a mix of awe and disdain, “we have a final in two days and you’re supposed to be studying.”

He shrugs, taking another big sip.

“Oh, give me that,” you chastise, reaching forward for the bottle, but he swerves out of the way haphazardly, wheels rattling as his chair thumps against the side of your bed. You turn to face him as he’s knocked off balance by the impact, tapping your pencil on your chin as you watch him feel for the mattress behind him, then as he hoists himself up on the bed.

“Foggy said we could have this to ourselves,” he chuckles, raising his eyebrows, then the bottle – “so I brought it with me.”

Your lips press together in disbelief before curling into a wry smile. “Fireball, Matthew? You’re drinking straight Fireball.” You shake your head as he tips the bottle into his mouth. “You’re sick.”

“It tastes go–” he rasps, fist coming up to his face as he coughs. “It tastes good!”

You set your pencil down on the paper, eyes quickly scanning over what’s been written, curt nod affirming your satisfaction of the response. “Okay then,” you lean forward on your knees, interlacing your fingers under your chin, “are you gonna share any? Since, y’know, it’s for the both of us.”

He tilts his head to the side, hand coming up to wipe his mouth before nudging his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You want some?”

You shrug indifferently. “Yeah, I’ll indulge.” 

You reach forward for the bottle but he yanks it backwards, head tipping back with roaring laughter.

“Matt, give it to me!”

He flashes you a shit-eating smirk as he raises his eyebrows. “You want it that badly?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. You hide your flustered face in your hands. “You little sh–”

He holds out the bottle in front of him, head cocked, intently listening to the shuffle of your feet against the carpet. “Well? Are you gonna come and get it?”

You huff, hand beginning to close around the bottleneck, brushing against the slippery glass where the whiskey’s spilled down the side, but he pulls backwards again. 

“Matthew Michael Murdock!” you bellow, watching him clutch his side as he breaks out into an infectious fit of laughter.

A sound of bewilderment. “How do you know my middle name?!”

You scrunch your nose, slapping his knee. “I’m your best friend, silly. It’s my job to find out.”

“Foggy told you, didn’t he?”

Silence from you.

“Maybe,” you mumble.

“Foggy looked at my state ID and told you, right?” 

“Maybe!” you yelp, suddenly very interested in your essay.

“You both looked at my ID?! You pickpocketed me?!”

You throw out a measly insult as you avert your gaze, face hot with embarrassment. “Don’t get all preachy on me now, Murdock.” 

He gasps with feigned disbelief, hand curling tighter around the bottleneck as the other points to the ceiling. “Don’t bring the big guy into this.” 

“You– oh! God, now I need a drink.”

Without second thought, you lunge at him, but as if he can predict your every movement, he sticks his foot out to trip you as you reach for the bottle. Suddenly, you’re a flurry of arms, movement and profanities, tumbling forward into something that breaks your fall… something warm, comforting, surprisingly muscular.

Not something.

Matt.

The world stops for a second as you hover on top of him, his Fireball-tinged breath mixing with yours, chest growing taut as your mouths are mere centimetres apart. It feels as if your heartbeat completely vanishes for a second, thick silence accompanied with only the sound of your stuttered breathing and the blood roaring in your head. You study the deep rise and fall of his chest, ignoring the unfamiliar feeling coursing through your veins as his arm wraps around your waist, holding you steady. 

His tongue snakes out to wet his lips, and that movement alone sends you down to hell. Your stomach falls through your body, dampening your panties with a sudden desire you didn’t think you possessed. Sure, Matt’s attractive and all, and he knows it – well, surely he has to, considering the number of people in your cohort alone who wanted to take him to bed – but you’ve never looked at him that way. He’s always been your friend, your support system. Insufferable at times.

You flick your gaze downwards to where your legs are, straddled over his hips. You’re hovering over him, but with one little movement, just one… you’d be pressed up entirely against him. You’re suspended here, unaware of how heavy your breathing has become, consumed with thoughts about your best friend that friends just… aren’t supposed to have.

This can’t happen.

It’s an awkward shuffle as you push off him and shoot straight back into your chair, but it’s followed by the exchanging of gently stifled laughter, ice quickly broken as you take advantage of his stupor, snatching the bottle off him. 

The liquor goes down easy. Easier than expected.

“Damn Murdock,” you say in between mouthfuls, “you’re lucky you didn’t spill any on my bed, or I would’ve kicked your ass.”

His retort comes out fast. “I kinda wanna see you try, but you’d get in trouble.” Your eyebrow arches at the cheeky grin that proceeds. “Y’know, for beating up a blind person.”

The opportunity to stick your tongue out at him is a moment rarely passed up, and this situation changes nothing. 

He grabs the bottle off you. “Hey, stop making faces at me. I can tell by the way your mouth moves.” His attempt to mimic you falls flat, and all he has to show for it is the cutest frown.

“Not even close, Murdock.”

Nothing prepares you for the effect his resounding snort has on you; the way it makes itself home in the centre of your chest, the sweet sound sending your brain into overdrive. You’re looking at him, big shiny eyes and all, flitting over his every breath, his every action. Fuck, it’s like he’s laced the atmosphere or something, drawing you to him like a moth to flame. 

God fucking damn it. He always knew how to tease you, how to leave you biting back a smile, but this time, the feeling isn’t irksome. He’s getting your heartrate up, making you cross your legs, leaving you wanting to twirl your hair and kick your fucking feet together.

Thank God your roommate is away, even if for a few nights. You’re thanking your lucky stars, because if she were here, she would’ve made at least ten comments about how you two needed to fuck already. You can hear her voice, clear as day, echoing in your mind. ‘Stop flirting and just do it already. It’ll probably be the best of your life.”

You clench at her latter comment, at the way she’s so nonchalantly arrived at that conclusion. Your spine tingles at the thought, at the way you secretly want to find out for yourself. 

Maybe all this is the result of the universe telling you to get laid.

By him.

No! Not by him. 

You know you want it. 

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, ignoring the angel and devil sitting on your shoulders, “I cannot believe you asked me for a break, Matt. I didn’t think the word was in your vocabulary.”

Amusement glints in his laugh.

“Ahh,” you start, nodding, “it’s because you’re drunk. I so knew ordinary Matty wouldn’t ask for a break.”

He reaches for your hand, which you give him without a second thought, to pull you and your chair towards him, wheels turning against the carpet. Suddenly you’re close to him again, knees touching as he shakes the bottle from side-to-side. “More drinking, less observing?” 

A giggle eases from your lips as you lean forwards, forehead touching against Matt’s. His skin is warm against yours, presumably from the alcohol in his system, and your lips flicker into a smile.

“What uh… what are you thinkin’ about?” he asks, tilting his chin downwards as he pushes harder against your forehead.

You bite back a yelp, fighting every instinct within you to keep your composure as his hands creep forward to interlace his fingers with yours. Every nerve in your body is firing at rates beyond your comprehension as his breath fans over your face, pearly grin tugging at the knot building behind your stomach.

“I… um–” The growing smile on your face does little to hide your thoughts, and you can only muster a few words as your voice comes out in a squeak. “Um… drink, please?” 

Matt lets out a breathy laugh as he pulls away, reaching down to retrieve the bottle by his feet. He brings it up to your face, nudging the lip of the bottle towards your mouth. Your toes curl at the action, thighs snapping together to curb the building throbbing between your legs, but you quickly polish off what little remains in the bottle, praying that the burn of the whiskey is distraction enough from your feelings.

It works well enough.

“So,” Matt asks, listening to the creak in your chair as you set the empty bottle on the ground, “what do you wanna do?”

“Hmm?” 

“C’mon, let’s do something. What about a game? Do you wanna play a game?”

You squint your eyes as you examine your nails, picking at invisible dirt along your cuticles. “A game, Matthew?”

“Yeah. Somethin’ like… I dunno, truth or dare?”

“What are you, sixteen?”

Matt scoffs, slapping his hands on his knees. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

That whiskey-burn “distraction” lasted all of thirty seconds.

The little whine in his voice widens your eyes, more so as you notice Matt’s growing smirk, and the way he tries to hide it in his hands as he waits for your answer. You’re not sure if it’s the liquor talking or well, just you, but your answer rolls off your tongue.

“Alright Matt,” you say, getting up off your chair to sit across him on the bed, leaning against the headboard. “Care to go first?”

The bed dips as he shuffles towards you, nestling his head in your lap. “Nothing would bring me a greater honour,” – a comment that makes you roll your eyes –  “truth or dare?”

“Wait a second, is there a punishment if we don’t want to do something?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like, if you ask me something and I don’t wanna answer it.”

“Oh! I mean yeah, I guess you don’t have to.”

You flash a smile at him as he relaxes his body, bending one knee as he straightens his other leg. “Truth.”

“Hmm… lemme see.” He purses his lips together as he thinks of a question. “Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

A wistful look dances across your face as you contemplate his question. “That’s– that’s surprisingly a good question. Alright, well, still close to you and Foggy, of course. And, I dunno, maybe have my own law firm. Ooh! And I wanna travel. Europe, especially.”

Matt hums at your answer. “That’s a lot of things.” He waits a moment before adding, “I like that about you. You’re ambitious.”

You swallow thickly as his words brand themselves in your head. “Y-your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“The same question then. Where are you in ten years?

Matt grins. “Still here, in the city. And… I have a law firm. It’s called Nelson and Murdock” – he brandishes an invisible sign in the air before continuing – “Attorneys at Law.” Your heart skips a beat at his earnest confession.

He goes quiet. “I, uh, I just wanna do what’s right, y’know?”

“Yeah, Matt,” you whisper. “I’m excited to see where this all takes you. And it’s sweet that you and Foggy picked that out already.”

Matt beams, in no particular direction. “Alright. Your turn again. Truth or dare?”

You hesitate for a second. “Dare.”

“Aw, but I’m so comfy lying here.” 

You hiss at him as you pinch his shoulder. 

“Fine, fine. Okay. I dare you to… tell me a secret you’ve never told anyone.”

“Matthew Murdock, is that not a thinly veiled truth?”

He reaches behind him to pat your thigh, biting his lip at your discovery.

Oh, you’re gonna make him regret being lazy. You contort yourself over him, leaning down into his ear. “When I was in high school, I snuck a friend of mine in through the window and we…” you drop your voice, whispering the rest of your story, dragging out every syllable so the words stick in his mind.

His face reddens at your admission, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he tries to find the words, but they don't come out. Your next words are laced with the smugness of your previous efforts. “You go now.”

“I choose dare.”

“I dare you to call Foggy and say you’re madly in love with him.”

Matt erupts into laughter. “You’re not serious.”

“Feel my heartbeat, Matthew.” You pick up a hand from where they’re folded on his chest, lifting his palm towards you. Your eyes lull back in your head as he flattens his hand against the left side of your chest, voice shaking as you speak. “See, Matthew? Steady.”

He sits up in a flash, holding his palm outstretched as you hand him his phone, Foggy’s number already dialling. 

Loud music blares over the phone speaker. ‘Hello? Matt? You okay?’

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, um–”

“Matt, you’re gonna have to speak up a little.” A woman’s voice calls out Foggy’s name.

Matt clears his throat, raising his voice just a little. He bites his lip, tilting his head away from your snicker. “I love you, Foggy.”

“Oh man! I love you too, buddy.”

You nudge Matt to say the words. “No, no, I mean, I love you.”

“I love you too!”

“No!” Matt pushes his hair back, exasperated. “I mean, I’m in love with you.”

A moment of silence fills the air.

That woman’s voice again. “Foggy, is everything okay?”

“Yeah yeah,” – Foggy says to the woman, before focusing back on Matt. “Um… everything alright with you, Matt?”

“Yes! I lo– Everything’s fine. I’ll just… I'll see you tomorrow.” 

The phone clicks off without another word.

“Oops,” you tease, words slurring a little, “sounds like someone has some explaining to do.”

Matt cracks his knuckles before placing his phone back on your desk. “Oh I am definitely going to get you back.”

.

Sprawled vertically on the bed with your legs hanging off the edge, you lay shoulder-to-shoulder with Matt, the contents of the Fireball bottle already long gone. Your hands are clasped together on your chest as your eyelids flutter closed, content in Matt’s presence. The last couple hours were the most fun you had in a long time, and God knows you deserve it, especially after this semester.

Matt is the first to break your temporary silence, words quiet as he directs them towards the ceiling. “So, you think Foggy and Marci are gonna last?” 

“I dunno Matt, I think your little confession there might’ve broken them for good.”

A half-smile blossoms across his lips. “You know what? I wouldn’t blame Foggy for picking me. I am loveable after all.”

“You are very loveable. Even my roommate thinks so.”

“Really? Her? I didn’t think she could love anyone.”

“Yep,” you sigh, stretching your arms out and putting your hands behind your head. “She loves you so much she thinks that we should get together. Sorry, I mean, that we should” – you lower your voice – “hook up, for lack of a better… less rude… word.” A shiver runs through your body at what you’ve just said.

Matt’s on his side in a nanosecond, facing you as he props himself up on one elbow. His expression is unreadable, mouth tight-lipped as he cocks his head to the side.

You take it as a cue to keep going. “She’s always saying it, seriously. I think she tells people in the hallway, too. And I think Foggy knows? But I haven’t really given it much th–”

“Would that… would that be the worst thing?”

Your eyebrows furrow together, face flooding with confusion. “Huh?”

Matt goes on. “I mean, people don’t really say stuff like that if they don’t mean it, right?”

It takes a full minute for you to register what he’s saying, and you move quickly to respond as the heat begins to bloom in your chest again. “Oh trust me, she says a lot of things she doesn’t mean.”

“No, but, would it really be the worst thing in the world?”

You shudder, every subsequent breath getting heavier. “What are you asking me?”

You watch as Matt’s nostrils flare, as his tongue peeks out to lick his lips again. You’re mirroring him, in the same position that he is, propped up and lying on your side. He lifts a finger to your arm on top, tracing your skin from elbow to shoulder with a featherlight touch. It loosens a gasp that comes from your chest.

“I’m asking you… if it would be the worst thing in the world.” Something shifts in Matt’s face, and he looks uneasy now. “What if…” – he lowers his voice to a whisper – “I wanted to… do that with you?”

No fucking way.

“Do… what? Matt, where is this coming from?”

He tentatively shuffles closer to you, but still keeping a far enough distance that you can roll away if you need to. “Your roommate’s right. I think we should stop pretending.”

No. Fucking. Way.

“Matt, of course it would be the worst thing in the world. I mean, okay, not the worst thing, but sex can ruin friendships. And c’mon, I’m not ready to lose you.” Your breath hitches in your throat as you get the words out. “Besides, I’ve– I’ve never thought of you like that.”

“That’s a lie.”

You suck your cheeks in, the silence louder than anything you could’ve said to defend yourself. A shit-eating grin appears on his face. “You’ve been thinking about me like that tonight, haven’t you?”

Damn you, Matthew Murdock. “Fine. I have. Is that what you want to hear?”

He sits upright now, smirk disappearing, tilting his chin towards the ground as he plays off a nervous chuckle. It’s as if your answer isn’t what he was expecting. “Look, I just– I like you, okay? I’ve had a really great night, and I– I don’t want to do anything to ruin that. Or our friendship. So, it’s– don’t worry about it.”

He reaches for his cane, neatly folded on your desk, but you make a split-second decision, feeling your heartbeat race as you grab his wrist and tug him back onto the bed. “What if…” 

He raises his eyebrows, beckoning you to continue. “What if we, um, I don’t know, this is gonna sound stupid but, what if we explored this using the game? Using truth or dare?” You wait a moment to read his expression. “That way it’s just a game right? And it won’t mean anything, unless we want it to.”

“That’s– that’s good. That’s smart. I like that,” he nods. “And we can end the game at any time.”

You affirm what he’s saying. “Yes, if there’s something either of us don’t want to do, we can say the word.”

“Wait,” you pause. “I– maybe that was stupid. I think we’re both drunk.”

Matt furrows his eyebrows. “I’m not drunk.”

You bite your lip, answering him quietly. “Neither am I.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay.”

“You wanna… go first?” Matt gulps.

Your chest caves inwards, heart thundering so hard it feels like it could burst out of your ribcage. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

Your knees go weak at the word. “I dare you to… come closer to me.”

Matt pauses for a moment to take his glasses off, setting them down on your desk. Then, he turns towards your voice, laying down to face you where you’re still propped up, where you’ve been this entire time. The only difference is that he’s close now, so close you can feel the heat radiating off his body, and the way his breath flutters against your lips. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you murmur.

“When was the first time you… thought of me like that?”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you recall the memory. “It was the first year of college, when Foggy tried to hit on me and you apologised for his behaviour.”

Matt grimaces. “I’m sorry about that… again, and so is Foggy. But that’s… wait a minute,” his eyes narrow, “that was forever ago!” He presses his lips into a choked laugh as you punch his arm.

Ignoring him, your stomach starts to flip as you ask Matt the next question. “Truth or dare?”

His mouth moves into a cheeky grin. “Dare.”

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck– “I dare you to kiss me.”

The butterflies roil in your stomach as he smiles at you earnestly, bringing one hand up to cup your jaw. His grip is firm, melding to the contours of your face with a surprising ease. He holds you there for a second as he blows a soft chuckle your way, flooding your face with a heat that crawls up your body. He leans forward, slowly, melting his lips against yours, so softly that you can’t fight the moan that slips from your mouth. 

The kiss is everything you ever imagined it would be, his mouth moulding to yours in a way that turns your legs to jelly. He nips affectionately at your bottom lip, using your slight surprise to slip his tongue against yours; the taste of Fireball so, so faint. 

“Oh my God,” you breathe, breaking the kiss, your foreheads still touching, his hand still on your jaw. 

“Oh my God,” Matt affirms, eyes squeezed shut as he loosens a breath. 

“I pick dare,” you whisper, biting your lip as Matt reciprocates your shy smile. 

“Okay, I dare you to…,” he pauses for a second, pursing his lips, “tell me what you want.”

“That isn’t a dare.”

He’s insistent. “Tell me what you want.”

“You, Matt. I want you.”

His nostrils flare in response, tips of his ears going pink as he nods, leaning in to kiss you again. Tangling one hand in your hair, he flattens his other palm against your collarbone, mouth roving over your jaw, then trailing down your neck, sucking on a sensitive spot near your shoulder that makes you moan. Your hands press against his chest, relishing in the way he grunts at your touch. 

“Matthew,” you groan into his hair, as he soothes the bruise on your neck with his tongue, “I want to take your clothes off.”

“You wanna take my clothes off?” 

“Mmhm.” And another moan as he guides you to lay flat on your back. 

“That’s not a dare either.”

“I know what I said.”

He doesn’t waste any time in tugging his shirt over his head, leaving only his leather-corded crucifix hanging around his neck, metal cross dangling off his chest as he moves down to kiss you. You’re breathless, unable to speak, utterly incoherent as he grinds himself into your core, the evidence of his growing arousal straining against his sweatpants.

“Damn you, Matthew,” you exhale, pulling your own shirt over your head, unhooking your bra and throwing it to the side. 

“What?” he moans, hands moving over your skin, your breasts now bare to him. 

You yelp as he rolls your nipples in his fingers, expression darkening as he acquaints himself with your body, the way you buck your hips up into his. “You’re so—“

“Loveable?”

Your head tips back with a cry as his mouth seals around your nipple, tongue flicking against the hardened peak. “No— well, yes, but fuck you’re just… how long have you been hiding that… body underneath those pullovers? Has anyone told you how good you look?”

“I may or may not have heard that a few times.”

You smirk as his mouth meets yours. “Foggy doesn’t count.”

“In that case,” he rasps in your ear, deft fingers trailing up your inner thigh to then unclasp the button of your jeans, “you can be my first.”

Your lips move over his chest as the words flutter into his skin, catching the cross in your teeth. You yank at it lightly, the strained breath he gives you music to your ears. “Oh Matthew, now you’re giving me the honour.” 

Mouth curving upwards, Matt hooks his hands into the waistband of your jeans and panties simultaneously, taking his sweet time in dragging the fabric down your legs, exposing you, inch-by-inch until you’re completely bare for him. 

Even though the two of you were close before this, closer than most friends were, it feels… jarring to expose yourself like this. With other guys, you wouldn’t hesitate; you’d keep going, get them undressed, have your fun and be done with it, but it’s not like that with Matt. 

He’s one of the few people that makes you nervous.

Your legs instinctively move closer to cover yourself but he wedges a hand in between your knees. 

Oh, he’s good. He knows, somehow, what you’re feeling.

So he says something that knocks any semblance of your apprehension on its head, something that makes you throb.

“Keep ‘em open. I want you spread for me.”

You surge upwards, the intensity of his words spurring you on, pressing wet kisses down his chest. One to his crucifix, one to his sternum, one in the middle of his– Jesus Christ, those abs. He cards his fingers through your hair at the sensation of your tongue dragging up his navel before nipping at his jaw, stubble scratching at your mouth. Your pussy floods at the guttural moan he makes as your fingers graze over the outline of his cock, the idle circle you trace on his head making him twitch. Your lips meet his as you replace your fingers with your palm, shuddering at the string of dirty curses he groans into your mouth. 

You pull away only to marvel at the size of him under your hand, every thick inch of him tenting painfully against his sweatpants. Foggy had mentioned in passing that Matt was packing, but this? Oh, you didn’t expect this. 

“Matty,” you exhale, “let me taste you.”

He raises a hand to your chin, tilting your head back with his grip to deepen his next kiss. “Anything you want.”

You latch your fingers onto the elastic waistband of his sweatpants and his boxers underneath, pulling it down to his mid-thighs, unable to contain your gasp as his cock springs free. Your eyes pulsate at the sight of him, pupils completely blown as you take him in his entirety, perfection as you’ve ever seen from base to tip. 

You lick first at the precum beading at the head, the salty taste of him coating your tastebuds as he bucks his hips involuntarily onto your outstretched tongue, eyes lulling in the back of your head at the primal sound that escapes his lips. You look up at him with your doe-eyes, watching a muscle feather in his jaw as you wrap your lips around him, flicking your tongue over his tip. He caresses your face with his hands, fingers supporting your jaw as you take all of him in. He hisses as he finds the back of your throat, throwing his head back in ecstasy as you begin to bob your head, not caring that you’re sloppy, that the spit is dribbling from your mouth all over him. From the way he’s grunting your name, you don’t think he minds either.

Matt hums your name dulcetly as you begin to use your mouth and hands in tandem, begging you to let go of his cock, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you as you pull away to wipe your mouth. 

“Lay down on your back,” he commands softly, making quick work of shedding the only pieces of clothing left on his body. He kneels for you on the bed as you shuffle back, spreading your legs for him once again. It’s from this angle that your mouth goes dry; the sight of his glistening cock, wet from your spit, ready for the taking.

He leans down to nip at your earlobe as he traces himself up and down your folds, slapping your clit with his cock once. He chuckles deeply in your ear at the mewl you make, purring for you to make the sound again. 

So you do.

“Condom, Matthew,” you whisper, breath caught in your throat as you reach over to your nightstand, but he grabs a hold of your wrist and shakes his head.

Your eyes widen at his answer. “I don’t need it just yet.”

He hovers over you for a second, just long enough for you to catch his crucifix in your teeth again, before moving down, settling in between your thighs. You’re sucking your cheeks in at his hot breath against your dripping pussy, so slick with arousal that the air is thick with it, but he doesn’t do anything. He just grins.

He tilts his chin upwards to grin at you, the gesture a little mirthless; a predator about to devour their prey. The metal cross swings with his movements, and you almost bite through your bottom lip as it hits against your clit.

“Not so much a godly man now, are you Matthew? I didn’t think you were allowed to do… this,” you smirk, squeezing your eyes shut as he pinches your clit with his thumb and forefinger.

“I get a pass, y’know, since I get to make an angel feel good.”

A shaky laugh escapes your lips. “Matty… you don’t mean–”

He cuts you off, his sweet tone darkening in an instant. “But since you bring it up, yeah, I’m no saint.” He lifts your hips, shoving his hands under your ass as he brings your pussy to his face.

“But out of all the sins in the world, all that we could’ve chosen to commit…” he clicks his tongue, nostrils flaring as he inhales your scent, “I promise, sweetheart, this one will feel the best.”

And with that, he dives into you. 

You’re a squirming mess on his tongue as he licks a broad stripe up your centre, tasting all that you have to offer. He seals his lips around your clit, flicking and sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves, until your back is arched off the bed, until you’re gasping and unable to stop the moans breaking from within. 

Matt’s always been polite, classy, the perfect person to bring home to meet your parents, but the way he’s slurping at you like you’re his last meal on earth? 

“Naughty, naughty boy,” you purr, grabbing a fistful of his hair as he slips his tongue inside you. You’re grinding into his face at this point, desperate to be filled, to be stretched out, desperate to cum for him as many times as you can. 

Your muscles go taut as you near the edge, the threads of your willpower unravelling to one final, fraying strand. He knows it too, that sly bastard, and breaks away from you with one final kiss to your clit.

“Not yet,” he grins, licking wet circles up your thigh. 

“Goddamn you, Murdock,” you huff, pulling him up by the shoulders until he’s breathing down your face. 

He runs his thumb over the seam of your lips, nudging you for entry. He grits his teeth as you flick your tongue against the pad of his finger, while reaching into your nightstand for a condom. He smirks as you slap the foil packet against your hand a few times, groaning as he pumps himself with his fist. That shit-eating, stomach-stirring smirk grows bigger as he hears you rip the packet open, then as you slide the condom out of the wrapper. 

Matt’s hand is outstretched, beckoning for the piece of latex held between your fingers, but you smack it away, wiping all the smug off his face. The moan he murmurs as you squeeze his heavy cock in your hand makes your walls flutter; it makes you ache with the idea of him fucking up into you as deep as he can.

He shudders, sharply exhaling as you roll the condom onto him, then as you tease your slick entrance with the blunt head of his cock.

“We can’t go back from this,” you mumble, breath stuttering as you coat him in your arousal.

His chest heaves with the thought of you, wrapped around him, saying his name like a prayer. “I’m pretty sure it’s a little too late, y’know, considering what we’ve already done.” 

He coaxes the tiniest whimper from your mouth as his fingers brush over your clit.

“Hear me out, Matty…” you start, flattening your palms against his chest.

“Yes, angel?”

“What if… what if you just…” 

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Just what? Whatever you want, angel. I’ll give it to you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “I dare you…” – you linger your fingertip on the curve of his jaw, before tracing his shoulder – “to put just the tip in me.”

“First of all, we’re still doing that? The game?” 

You shrug nonchalantly.

“Secondly, just the tip? You know that still counts as sex, right?”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Okay, I’ll put it in and you tell me that doesn’t count.” His smug smirk that follows spurs you to punch him in the arm.

“Alright Matthew, we’ll see about that.”

“I promise,” he rasps in your ear, teasing himself at your entrance, pushing the slightest bit of himself in, just to make you squeal, “I’ll have you begging for more.”

Your resounding yelp is poorly masked, and it only makes his coy smile grow larger. You’ve known for a long time that Matt was a bit of a manwhore, but he was always so… innocent around you. Never, never in a million years did you think he was capable of… this. 

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, chest heaving as he grunts your name, propping a pillow under your hips. “Just the tip, Matthew.” 

He leans his weight onto the forearm bracketing your head. “Just the tip, princess.”

You hiss through your teeth as he pushes into you, words transcending you in that moment at the burn of this thick cock stretching you out. You expect the burn to follow through, waiting for the sensation of being oh-so-deliciously full of him, but he moves only a little, only until just the tip of him sits inside you. Oh fucking hell. There is absolutely no way you’re going to let him win this one.

Relaxing your grip on his shoulders, you bite back the exhale that conveys your need, forcing back the urge to squirm on his cock for the friction you so desperately want. 

“God,” he grunts, “I’m barely inside you and you feel so… fucking good.” 

You allow yourself one breathy moan. Just one. 

You’re doing so well, keeping it together, showing absolutely no indication that you need him guts deep inside you, pounding at a pace that shakes the bed.

But then he starts to move.

Cock twitching in your heat, he jerks his hips so lightly, pressing his head into your warmth, before sliding out until he barely remains inside. He repeats the movement, his half-shudder half-chuckle evidence that he’s noticed the way you’re clenching around him, or the way you’re sitting upright, peering down to see where exactly he’s joined to you.

He’s painfully hard for you, latex glistening with the sheen of your arousal. You tilt your hips upwards to get a better angle, watching as he withdraws himself just that bit further, before thrusting into you; the sight of your folds enveloping his cock enough to make you curse. 

Abs contracting, and every cord of muscle in his arms going tight, you can tell he’s holding back. You can tell by the redness that blooms in his cheeks and the vast expanse of his chest that he wants more. That he needs more, needs to be deeper; so far inside you that all he could fall apart at any second. You watch where the thick head of his cock enters you, sliding in and out deliriously slow, and that’s when the silence breaks. 

All that heavy breathing, those controlled yet shaky stutters as your mouths are pulled apart by pleasure, is interrupted with your drawn out groan as he pushes the next inch into you. Only one inch. One delicious inch.

“Fuck, Matty,” you moan at the sudden fullness, tipping your head back as he flares his nostrils, grunting your name in response to your walls fluttering around him.

It – he – feels so goddamn good, but it isn’t enough. God, for someone who begged to be teased this exact way you’re impatient, so fucking impatient, but you need to find purchase. With every thrust of his hips, the hope – no, the demand – that he says ‘fuck it’ and sheathes himself fully inside you grows, from a dull ache to one that utterly throbs; one that sends reverberating shockwaves through every nerve in your body. 

He was right. Of fucking course he’d be right. Matthew, ever-clever, devastatingly handsome, Mr. ‘I just know you’ll need more of me’ was almost never wrong.

Matt slides his lips down by your ear, voice dropping to a bare whisper as he tangles his fingers in your hair. “Let me fuck you properly, please. I don’t care about the game, I just… I need you.” He lifts one of your legs up, hooking his arm around your thigh, opening you up to him even more.

“C’mon then Matty,” you smirk, flicking your tongue against his lips. “Show me what you got.”

The cry that heaves from your chest as he slams himself into you is nothing short of unholy. He moans your name sinfully as he buries himself to the hilt, hips stuttering as he jerks involuntarily, nudging against that spot inside you that threatens to break you in an instant. You whine at the sudden loss of fullness as he retracts himself, to the point where only the tip of him remains, but he fills you again, the pain from his cock stretching you out giving way to ecstasy. It doesn’t take long for you to splinter around him, for your back to arch as you flood his cock with an earth-shattering orgasm.

And in between his steady thrusts and his languid kisses, he pins your legs back, placing one hand on your waist while the other grazes your throat. His pace is ruthless now, all grunts and groans as he works to bring you to the edge once… no, twice more. This must be what heaven feels like. 

Your legs turn to jelly as he lifts your legs up straight, crossing your ankles over, holding them there as he bites his lip, the new position turning your pussy into a vice. A vice that wants to milk him bone dry. “So… fuckin’.... tight for me, angel,” he musters, panting as every drag of his cock against your walls brings you both closer and closer to falling apart. 

Just as you’re about to cum for him again, he pulls out, flipping you onto your stomach, hoisting your ass up in the air. 

“Matty…” you groan, as he tangles his fingers in your hair, kissing your back as he fucks you, relishing the feeling of your sweat-slick skin on his in the most intimate way possible. 

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he murmurs, kneading your ass, spreading you apart so he can be as deep in you as possible. You lean back into him, arm reaching around to grab the back of his neck; the movement exposing your throat for his hand to grab. He’s getting sloppy, eyes squeezed shut as you near the edge together.

“Fuck, angel…” he pants, holding you tighter, spilling into you with a sound that turns your world to white. You pulsate around his cock as his hips stutter into yours to give you every last drop.

He collapses into you, holding you tightly, listening just to the sound of your breathing. “I know we said it wouldn’t mean anything but…” 

Your voice comes out in a squeak as he kisses your shoulder softly. “But?” 

A moment of hesitation. “I dunno, that was too good for a once-off game.”

Your mouth curves into a cheeky grin. “Matthew Murdock, pussywhipped already? I didn’t pick you for the type.”

He bites down on your shoulder, smug at your yelp that follows. “Who says it was just tonight that had me pussywhipped?”

You scoff, pushing him off you to sit upright and poke his collarbone. “Hang on a second, was this all some… twisted grand gesture of affection?”

“No! No, I swear, I didn’t plan any of this.”

“Alright, Matty, I believe you.”

He laughs nervously, running his tongue over his teeth.

“Matthew,” you start, sitting up on your knees to throw your hands around his neck. “We just had sex. You don’t have to be nervous to ask me out.”

A shy smile creeps across his face, red blooming in his cheeks. “I’m not nervous–”

You cut him off with a taunting giggle. “Yes, Matthew, I’ll go on a date with you. Of course I will.” A beat, and you poke him in the collarbone again. “So nervous and for what?”

He chuckles lowly, the sound pooling in your core, shaking your arms off him to pounce on you, to lay you flat on your back. “Do I have to do something dramatic to shut you up?”

There’s no mistaking the growing heat between your legs. “Maybe.”

He leans down to nip at your earlobe, smirking against your ear. “Alright then.”

.

You’re awoken to Matt’s elbow in your face and a string of profanities as he scrambles to get under the sheets, laying as still as possible with his head in your thigh. 

“What’s going on?” you hiss, pulling the covers up over your naked chest. 

Your eyes widen as the doorknob to your room turns, faint voices echoing in the hallway outside. “How the fuck did you hear that?” you panic, nudging Matt with your elbow. 

It’s Foggy’s voice that sounds the closest, although he’s still muffled by the door. “... Yeah, he was saying some weird stuff to me last night and he wasn’t home when I got back so I figured they’ve passed out studying together.”

Then your roommate. “Yeah, studying, sure. It’s about time they–” 

“Oh shit.” Foggy gasps dramatically as your knuckles turn white gripping the sheets, surveying the room before him. Nevermind that your thin sheets do absolutely nothing in concealing the obvious outline of Matt’s body; the multiple open condom packets on the ground and the empty bottle of Fireball is evidence enough. Matt’s head pops up from under the covers, his sheepish smile directed at no one in particular.  

Your roommate clasps her hands, smirking as she shakes her head. “I told you, Foggy.”

Foggy’s vacant expression is startled away as his eyes narrow in on the crucifix still hanging from Matt’s neck. “Do not tell me you left that on while you had sex. Why’d you have to bring the big guy into this?” He steps backwards, holding his hands up. “You know what? I’m outta here. I’ll see you” – he points at Matt – “later.”

Your roommate follows Foggy outside a second later, calling out to you as the door shuts softly. “Can you two get dressed? I have an exam in two hours.”

You giggle, pressing a tender kiss to Matt’s lips before whispering in his ear. “Surely there’s time for a little more?”

“Oh sweetheart,” he grins, “absolutely.”

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #college matt murdock #daredevil smut #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfic #x reader #rhi writes 💻

[amberlynnmurdock]

College Series (Part 1)

Part 1: Moving In

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Series Summary: Matt Murdock scarcely ever let himself get too comfortable with people because comfort was always followed by chaos, or worse, abandonment. But when you move into the co-ed apartment off campus, Matt thinks that maybe this time things will be different. At least, he really hopes so. And that might be the most naive thing he would do in his time studying law at Columbia University. Soon, his nights are filled with red wine, learning about Greek mythology and barely using his own bed to sleep in because yours is right down the hall.

A/N: This is basically me revamping what I always wanted "Library Series" to be, so I hope no one minds another college!Matt Murdock fic. I don't know if this will have a real plot yet, but I'll figure it out along the way. I hope you guys enjoy! :) This chapter is entirely in Matt's POV!

Ao3 Link

Matt Murdock walked down the sidewalk slowly, counting each step as he did until he could sense that he reached his supposed destination. He stopped with his cane in front of him and listened to his surroundings: rustling leaves, a woman walking her dog, and cars turning onto the narrow street in upper Manhattan. 

The building he stood in front of was what he would be calling home for the next semester. Although he couldn’t see it, he knew it was a tall brownstone building with iron rails and large, wide steps. He could hear the creak in the old wood of the front door and the lock attached to it inside. He could hear the people inside the building moving boxes around and adjusting furniture. Strangers that he would be calling neighbors—for the time being, because people never stayed around forever. 

Matt heavily sighs as he adjusts his shoulder bag and lugs his suitcase behind him, which isn’t filled with much: sweaters, shirts, jeans, underwear, sheets, toiletries, his Bible, and Orbit Reader. When he was packing at St. Agnes’ he didn’t think much about what he would need to bring. While some college students made lists and packed, and overpacked, Matt thought nothing more of it than just a new place to stay. Maybe it was because he was so used to packing the same suitcase and moving from destination to destination, that he’d become accustomed to moving around a lot. After all, he truly never had a home since his dad died. That was the only home he’d known. St. Agnes was just a place to stay. 

With heavy shoulders, he walked up the steps one by one and shuffled in his duffle bag for the keys to the building. It was easy for him to pick it out. It was an old-fashioned skeleton key with an intricate gothic design he could trace with his fingertips. Once inside, he shut the heavy door behind him and stood once more before the long flight of stairs that would lead to his temporary apartment. Unfortunately, an elevator wasn’t an option. 

He slowly trekked up the steps, passing each floor and the shut doors of other people moving in. Some were college kids, some weren’t, but he heard each and every conversation as he passed. It reminded him of when he was younger when he would sit in Clinton Church before mass and hear people praying to God. It was uncomfortable to hear personal things, but he’s gotten used to drowning out the noise and moving on. 

After a few more flights, he finally reached the top floor of the building, which led to the apartment. It turned out to be the biggest one in the building. He pulled out the other key to the apartment and let himself inside, immediately hit with the smell of dust and old wood. He couldn’t sense any furniture in the living room, except for a small kitchen island with a marble countertop and an old wooden kitchen table set.

Matt traced his fingers along the wall as he slowly made his way to the hall that led to the bedrooms. First come, first serve he thought. There were two rooms closer to the front of the apartment with large windows—he could feel the cold draft coming in through them—and two rooms tucked towards the back. He immediately gravitated to the room furthest in the back. He didn’t like hearing the city at night, and he knew if he chose one of the rooms up front he’d never get a good night’s sleep. Then again, he seldom ever did. 

When he opened the room’s door, he dropped his bags and held his hands out to feel for the bed. It was in the center of the room, which he didn’t like, so he moved it to fit right in one of the corners. He pressed his hands on the mattress—brand new as the apartment listing said. And he knew it wasn’t a lie because he could smell the fresh, factory smell of the brand-new mattress. In fact, all the beds in the rooms had new mattresses, now that he could smell it in the air. 

There was a dresser against the other wall and a small closet. He didn’t have much to fill both up. In the other corner was a small work desk for homework. He began to unpack his books from his duffle bag and stacked them neatly on the desk. He ran his fingers over one of the titles in braille: Criminal Law & Procedure. 

The second year of law school is allegedly easier than the first. At least, this second year comes with more freedom, such as the option to live off campus rather than in one of the small dorms. At least his first year he got to meet his best friend: Foggy Nelson. 

Which, speaking of, he was bounding up the steps already with three bags he could barely carry by himself. 

“Matt!” He heard his friend shout from the steps, “Hey, Matt! You here yet?”

Matt met Foggy at the top of the stairs and laughed—he could hear the struggle in his friend’s voice. 

“Why don’t you stop laughin’ at me and grab a bag?!” 

After what felt like hours of going up and down the steps helping Foggy with his bags, and carrying a couch up into the living room, followed by a long goodbye from Foggy’s mom, Matt and Foggy plopped themselves on the couch in exhaustion. 

“Man,” Foggy groaned, “I didn’t know the apartment was on the top floor. I’m beat.”

“Maybe that’s why it was so cheap,” Matt thought, “no one wants to walk up those stairs.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Foggy answered. “Welp, guess I gotta pick a room. You don't think whoever we’re rooming with will mind we chose first, right?”

“Nah,” Matt shrugged, “the apartment listing said whoever gets here first picks. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Alright. Where’s your room? I’ll pick the one next to it.”

  “I opted for the one farthest in the back,” Matt said, leaning over as Foggy got up to pick a room. He listened as Foggy shuffled between the rooms and moved his bags into his chosen space. 

Matt stayed on the couch, his hearing strayed to the noise that was outside the front windows. Naturally cocking his head, he could hear a local deli closing up for the evening. He could even smell the lingering scent of stale coffee. He heard people closer to Columbia University laughing and getting ready to go out to whatever frat party was going on that night. In the distance, he heard sirens wailing—for what reason, he didn’t know. He didn’t understand the ache that grew in his chest the longer he continued to listen to them. 

“Matt?” Foggy called for him, “You good?”

“Yeah,” Matt stammered. “What did you say?”

“I said let’s get dressed and find a local bar to hang at!” 

That didn’t take much convincing. 

✣✣✣✣

If Matt thought lugging suitcases up the flight of stairs was tough, he wasn’t prepared to walk up the stairs intoxicated. 

“Man, that was a terrible idea. Terrible idea you had,” Foggy slurred as he bumped into Matt on the stairs. Matt let out a laugh as he pushed Foggy back.

“My idea? It was your idea, you asshole,” Matt shot back playfully.

“Was it?” Foggy questioned, “Oh yeah, it was. God, how many stairs are there?”

Everything was spinning inside Matt’s head. He looked up behind his dark glasses and sensed the number of steps. 

“We have four flights left,” Matt said, pausing at the second floor and leaning against the wall.

“Jesus,” Foggy groaned. “Terrible, terrible idea, Matt.”

After fifteen minutes of an agonizingly drunk walk up the stairs, both Matt and Foggy finally made it to their new temporary home and collapsed on the couch at opposite ends. Matt let his head dip back on the couch while Foggy attempted to lift his legs on a spare moving box in front of him. Matt laughed at his attempts; he didn’t have to see to know his friend was struggling. 

“Hopefully our roommates will join us on future bar crawls,” Foggy said aloud. 

“Hopefully they don’t suck.”

“That too,” Foggy agreed. “I think—I think I’m going to call it a night, Matt. I’ll…I’ll talk to you…” and just like that, Foggy Nelson was snoring on the couch with his legs half-propped on a box. Matt forced himself to get up and move to his bed, not before putting a blanket over Foggy and turning the lights off. 

When Matt reached his room, his equilibrium was still making things seem spinning. He stumbled over his suitcase and duffle bag and caught himself on his bed, where he landed on his back. He threw his dark glasses on his desk and shut his eyes, using all his might to avoid listening to the sounds that lay outside the window. Putting himself in the back room was a good idea because it was much easier to ignore what he heard—more importantly, ignore how it made him feel. The liquor in him only swirled those feelings away. 

Matt turned on his side and reached for the Bible he kept under his pillow. He ran his fingers over the braille until he found a particular prayer he was looking for:

“Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen. Because of it the ancients were well attested. By faith we understand that the universe was ordered by the word of God, so that what is visible came into being through the invisible.” Hebrews 11:1-3.

Matt rested the Bible on his chest, mind drifting to things of his past, things he only kept hidden and locked away until he was completely alone with himself like he was now. It was heavy. Not the suitcase, not the way his legs felt walking up the steps inebriated, but the weight of the past, creeping up on him when he was alone. 

He fell heavily into a deep sleep. 

✣✣✣✣

Morning came, and so did his hangover. 

Matt was awakened by a knock on his door. Not his door, but the front door. A knock he would not have heard if not for his heightened senses. Throwing his dark glasses on, he rolled out of bed and walked into the living room. On the couch, Foggy still lay asleep, snoring. Matt’s head was pounding and his feet felt like cement as he stalked to the door, the knocking growing more erratic. 

When he opened the door, he was met with an overwhelming waft of sweet beery perfume and bubblegum. The person who stood in front of him—a young woman, he sensed—popped a bubble and clicked the gum inside her mouth. 

“Oh,” a squeaky voice said. “Are you a roomie?”

“Uh…“

“I’m Marci,” the young woman introduced herself. She held out her hand, but Matt made no move to shake it. 

“I’m—I’m Matt,” Matt said. He could sense the young woman’s candor by the way she pulled her hand back immediately and placed it on her hip. 

“Are you blind or are you hungover?” She clicked her gum again, taking note he was wearing dark glasses inside. 

Matt’s mouth twitched upwards. He wasn’t offended by her bluntness, only amused. 

“Both,” he simply said. 

“Hm,” she said, “well, I’m your new roomie.” she peered inside to see Foggy sleeping on the couch. “I’ll need help with my suitcases.”

And yet again, Matt was subjected to the torture of helping people bring their suitcases up the long flight of stairs. But if this was someone he was going to be living with for the next year, he thought it better to make friends and help than make enemies and refuse. Even if she was a little brash. 

“Matt?” Foggy groggily opened his eyes to the movement of boxes being lugged around. “Jesus!” Foggy said in the startling realization that Matt was no longer the only one he shared a space with. When he saw the beautiful blonde with her arms crossed and a look of judgment on her face, Foggy thought he might’ve woken up to an angel. 

“I’m Marci Stahl,” she popped her gum again. “Are you going to help bring my stuff up?”

“Absolutely,” Foggy stumbled to his feet, ignoring the spins he felt. Matt suppressed a chuckle as he placed the final box (he decided it was the final box for him now that Foggy was awake) on the ground. Now, it was up to Foggy.

Well, Foggy couldn’t completely help Marci yet before making a trip to the bathroom and yakking up the previous night’s regrets. Marci waited in the hall with her arms crossed. When Foggy met her outside again, he smiled awkwardly as Marci told him where her remaining boxes were. She had her mother waiting outside as well, who couldn’t be bothered to help bring up boxes. 

Matt took this as an opportunity to lock himself in his room and boot up his Orbit Reader to learn of his new schedule, starting Monday. He scrolled to find his classes and their descriptions, and what books he would need for class. With one earplug in, he listened as it read it to him. But not even the Orbit could help drown out Foggy’s attempts at flirting with Marci.

✣✣✣✣

“You’re not so bad, aren’t you?” Marci asked with suspicious eyes at Foggy. Foggy offered a hearty laugh and sat down on a pink velvet love cushion that belonged to Marci. She took a seat at the end of the couch, closest to Foggy. 

“What do you mean?” Foggy shrugged his shoulders, a goofy grin on his face. His long blonde hair peeked out under his green beanie. He had a terrible goatee, but for some reason, made him all the more endearing. 

“Well, we’re all going to be living together this year. Glad the co-ed space I chose has someone willing to carry all my boxes up the steps without complaint. And you’re not an asshole,” Marci rested her elbow on the arm of the couch, studying Foggy carefully. 

“What can I say? I’m pretty charming,” Foggy smiled.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Marci smirked. 

Matt sat at his desk laughing to himself as he listened to their conversation. 

“What are you studying? You’re a grad student?” Foggy asked, ignoring her retort. 

Marci looked at him like it was an obvious question. “I’m in the law school.” 

“Really?! No way!” Foggy exclaimed. “That’s what we’re here for, too. 2L?”

“Of course,” Marci said. “I wouldn’t be here if it were my first year.”

“Hey, maybe it was your third. I don’t know. What kind of law do you want to do?”

“IP, corporate, civil rights,” Marci shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll let it find me.”

“Badass,” Foggy nodded his head in amusement. Marci chuckled and rolled her eyes. 

“What’s up with your friend in there? Why hasn’t he joined us?”

“You’re right,” Foggy agreed. “Matt! Get your ass outta there and come bond with your roommates!”

Matt sighed and leaned back in his uncomfortable wooden chair. It was only a matter of time before he was summoned to socialize. He shut down his Orbit Reader and joined them in the living room, reaching in front of him to find the other end of the couch. 

“Well, I’m here,” Matt simply said with a small smile. He wasn’t really sure what to say.

“You’re the moody one, aren’t you?” Marci said with slight amusement, resting her chin in her hand. Matt chuckled.

“I wouldn’t say moody,” Matt scratched the back of his neck. “Uhh. Maybe I would, actually.”

“Every friendship duo has to have one. Clearly, your friend Foggy here is the opposite,” Marci teased. “My friend is like you, too. Quite type. Locks herself in her room. She should be here soon,” Marci thought aloud.

Matt quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, “Is she our fourth roommate?”

“Sure is. Let me call her real quick.” Marci got up and into her chosen room, the one in the front with the largest windows. 

Now that it was just Foggy and Matt, Foggy immediately bounded over to sit next to Matt on the couch and squeezed his arm.

“Dude, did we get lucky or what?!” Foggy shout whispered. “Rooming with two chicks?!”

Matt pushed his friend away with a laugh, “Foggy, don’t be like that, that’s gross. We’re supposed to be roommates.”

Foggy held his hands up in defense, “I’m just sayin’ man, let things run their course. Oh man, she’s beautiful. Blonde, has sharp features and—“

“Shh,” Matt hushed his friend. “She just got off the phone.”

“She’ll be here in ten minutes,” Marci announced as she walked back into the living. She paused as she noticed how close Matt and Foggy were sitting. “What were you guys talking about?”

“Nothing,” they said in unison, feigning innocence. 

✣✣✣✣

While Foggy and Marci were exchanging life stories and their experiences studying to get into law school, Matt let his senses drift to focus on what else was going on in the building. He didn't want to engage in conversation, especially if the topic was backstories. He wasn’t ashamed of his upbringing at all, nor was he ashamed of where he grew up after his dad died, but he couldn’t deal with the reactions or sympathy his story inevitably brought out of people. He just didn’t feel like dealing with it with Marci, especially given how well her and Foggy’s conversation was already going. What did he have to add to it other than a tragic accident? 

A cool draft floated through the stairs, finding its way in any open creak or door in the building. Some of their downstairs neighbors were still moving in. In another room, someone was twisting a bottle of white wine open. Another attempted to hang a picture frame. Matt could hear the banging of the hammer on the second floor, the vibrations against the wall. He had to hide his grimace when he heard a chair squeak on the hardwood floor. 

Despite these sounds that no one else could hear, Matt had high hopes for the near future. He imagined late-night studying and sleeping in on weekends. He imagined sneaking into frat parties with Foggy and ending the night at local dive bars. 

When he heard the front door open, something shifted in the entire building. Something that caused Matt to move forward on the couch ever so slightly to hear better. The cold draft was replaced by a warmth in the air, followed by the ever-so-faint scent of lavender. Accompanied by the smell was an equally faint heartbeat. This person wasn’t nervous, they were content. He heard them sigh, and at this sound, Matt confirmed he was listening to a young woman. She too had a shoulder bag and suitcase she was lugging around, nothing else. No boxes filled with decorations or other extra things. No family dropped her off. 

Just her. 

She walked up the steps, one by one, and Matt could hear the pauses she took from the amount of stairs. His mouth twitched into a smile, fascinated that she was equally surpassed by the amount of stairs. It was clear that she was their fourth roommate, and it was confirmed when Matt heard her dial a number in her phone and Marci’s began to vibrate. 

“Are you here?” Marci asked through the phone immediately. 

“Yeah,” her friend breathed, “but I didn’t realize how many stairs there were! I’ll be up in five minutes if I’m lucky.”

“Do you need help with your bags? We luckily have two strong, burly men to do any heavy lifting we need,” Marci winked at Foggy. 

“No, I’m okay. I just have two bags. I’ll be right up.”

Marci squealed when she hung up the phone. “She’s here! Let me get the door for her.” 

As Marci walked over to open the front door, both Matt and Foggy stood up from their seats and awaited their fourth roommate’s arrival. Foggy waited like an excited puppy as he watched Marci lean in the doorway for her friend. Matt stood awkwardly, terrible at first encounters. He kept his hands in his pockets and tilted his head low, feeling more comfortable behind his dark glasses and chocolate brown hair that fell right over his eyes. The scent of lavender grew stronger the closer she made it to the apartment. 

And when she walked in, no longer did Matt hear the creak in the wood, the downstairs neighbors’ chatter, the outside city noises. No longer did he feel the cool draft from outside, or his own nervous heart beating in his chest. All of his senses, and all of his focus, were on her. The one other roommate who showed up alone, with no family, with nothing but two bags, and possibly an equally lonely heart. 

TAGS: @marvelcinematiquniverse

#matt murdock x reader #college!matt murdock #college!matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #charlie cox #daredevil #foggy nelson #marci stahl #college series

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Waste away with me

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 6

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

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

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

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

w/c: 4.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Er, the pharmacy by the auditorium.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bug?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ok. I’m sorry.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s Foggy, Matt?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Alright, alright, I'm coming.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”I'd like to review your citations.“

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

“My blanket is plenty soft.”

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

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

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

“See, that's the spirit!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tutting in disapproval, you nestled closer to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[peterman-spideyparker]

Half-Wrong (College!Matt Murdock x college!fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Howdy folks, ya girl somehow caught Covid during the worst week possible! I have a 102 fever and I don't really remember writing this cuz I've been taking a lot of naps, so if it doesn't make sense and has errors I'm sorry. I saw that Owen Sleater gifset (iykyk) and rolled with it. Enjoy :)

Summary: You have been attracted to Matt Murdock ever since the pair of you met at the coffee shop on campus on move-in day, but you knew he'd never feel the same way about you - this became especially true once you got insight on his romantic life. So when you find him waiting for you after you come back from a date, you take a chance.

Warnings: Sweet platonic fluff, close friendship vibes, kissing, smut (oral - f!receiving, sexy oral m!condom put on, protected sex, p in v sex), swearing

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, ofc (Cassie)

Word Count: 2,844

“C’mon, just a little more,” you huff as you move your run to a jog on the sidewalk. “A little bit more, and then we’ll be back at the dorms.”

“I don’t get why you think this is the best way to exercise,” Matt huffs as he puts his hands up in a T shape.

“You like boxing, I like a good run. Potato, potahto. The thing you should be thinking about is why you repeatedly agree and continue to go on runs with me,” you pant as you untie the tether that you use while you run—with Matt being unable to see and just how hard you imagine running with a cane would be, a tether to your waist to guide him and gently keep him out of the path of obstacles seemed like a good option.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve figured that part out yet, either. I mean, you do agree to box with me which is nice. But I think I just like spending time with you. Although, being tied with you does kind of make me feel like a dog.”

“Ah, but you’re such a kind, pretty dog with soft hair,” you smirk, ruffling his sweaty hair. “Such a good boy.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, his cheeks flushing beyond the rosiness from the run. “Help me get to the cafe in the student union and I’ll buy us some waters.”

You press a kiss to his warm cheek and place his hand on your forearm. 

“Hey, are you still gonna join Foggy and I at Josie’s tonight?” he asks, his breathing sounding like it’s starting to return to normal as you both enter the nearby building.

“I thought that was tomorrow?” you return, navigating the pair of you through a small little self-serve concession area.

“No, tonight. You have plans?”

“Don’t sound too shocked.”

“I don’t mean it like that.”

“Okay. Then how did you mean it?”

“Well, just that you haven’t had plans in almost a year,” he exaggerates as he takes the waters you hand him.

“Excuse me, I have plans,” you say as you take the waters back and scan them, Matt rooting around in his shorts for his student ID.

“No, you have plans with your other friends semi-regularly. You never have date plans,” he clarifies as he swipes his ID to pay.

“I’m sorry all of us can’t be you with a new companion every few weeks.”

“I don’t have a ‘new companion’ every few weeks.”

“Oh, come on, Matt, don’t deny it,” you say as you drink your water. “Right now, it’s that girl from that IP law class, before that it was a dental student, then I think an international relations major? But let’s not forget about contract law girl, estate planning—.”

“Okay, fine, I’ve had a lot of short-term relationships.”

“Well, that’s great for you, but that’s not what I’m looking for,” you tell him. “I mean, I don’t expect anything right now to last forever, but, I don’t want it to be a four-week thing and then be done with it. If I’m gonna make plans with someone, it’s because I think I still might be making plans with them in five months.”

Matt nods and drinks some of his own water as you move back outside and in the direction of our dorms. “So, what’s this guy like? Where’d you meet?”

“Cassie actually set us up,” you say. “She said that he seemed like my type, like a really good guy.”

“Well, then, I’m happy you have plans tonight. I hope it goes well.”

“Thanks, Matt. I do, too. I mean, I have no reason to think they won’t. Just tell Foggy I’m sorry I’m gonna miss him tonight.”

“Of course.”

“Do I see a wild (Y/N) in one of her natural habitats?” you hear Foggy call from across the quad.

“Speak of the Nelson, and he shall appear!” you smile as he comes to wrap you in a hug. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“(Y/N) has a date tonight,” Matt says with a devilish grin.

“Matthew!” you say, giving him a swift whack. “This is exactly why I don’t tell you things.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m happy for you, really.”

“I am, too!” Foggy chimes in. “I’m bummed that it means you’ll miss drinks at Josie’s, but, it’s about time you get dicked down.”

“I need to hang out with more friends that are girls,” you sigh, taking a look at your watch. “I gotta go now if I want to take an everything shower.” Kissing each of their cheeks, you wave goodbye and run off to your dorm to get ready.

“I just don’t see it going anywhere,” you sigh as you enter the main lobby of your dorm building.

“Really?” Cassie asks over the phone.

“We work on paper, but there wasn’t any spark.”

“Maybe the spark is gonna take some time.”

“A spark shouldn’t take time, Cass. It should be right there I didn’t feel anything.”

“You can’t pin every guy against Matt, you know.”

“I’m not comparing everyone against Matt,” you scoff incredulously. 

“Yes, you are. Ever since you met. I bet you felt a spark with him.”

“So what if I did? It’s clear he didn’t with me, but . . .” You sigh and shake the thought out of your head. “I’m not an option for him. He’s a good person, but more importantly, he’s my friend. I’m not gonna spend my time fantasizing about something that’s never gonna happen.”

“HA.”

“You are so mean.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just a funny concept—you, not fantasizing.”

“Rude.”

“I’m your oldest friend, it’s my job.”

“I appreciate it. Listen, I just got to my door, I’m gonna call it a night.”

“Okay, (Y/N). Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Hanging up, you sigh as you put your phone back into your bag, hiking the strap up over your shoulder, slipping out your keys and undoing the old locks. You toss your purse on the nearby table, but freeze in your tracks when you see someone sitting on your bed. Not any someone. Matt.

“You shouldn’t be in here this late,” you breathe.

“I shouldn’t be in here at all,” he says softly, folding his glasses and putting them on your nightstand. “But why do something half-wrong?”

You slowly start to close the gap between where he sits and where you stand. “Matt . . .”

“If you want me to go, I will. Just say the word.”

“. . . Why now?”

“I don’t know. I just . . . I realized tonight when I was at Josie’s with Foggy that if you’re going to be kissing anyone, I want it to be me.”

You don’t care what you just told Cassie. Honestly, you don’t care about anything or how this could complicate your friendship or any of the consequences. Instead, you move to your bed, climb into his lap, and kiss him. That spark you first felt with Matt when you met is a full-blown lightning bolt now, every last bit of you tingling with electricity; you know Matt feels it too from the way his hands slide up your back and how his fingers card through your hair. Matt leans back on the mattress, letting you take the lead as you make out. His kisses gradually grow more aggressive—the clashing of teeth, nipping, squeezing, and grinding. Matt rolls your bodies over on the bed, eagerly but carefully pulling off your shirt.

“Please tell me you were anticipating this and have condoms on you,” you pant as he peppers kisses all over your torso.

“Mmm,” he hums into my body. Oh my God, I think I just came. “Four.”

“We’re using all of them.” You feel how his lips curl into a smile against your body, making you writhe before you scream out when he starts to suck on the sweet spot on your neck.

“Ambitious,” he hums, licking and kissing at the stinging spot on my neck.

“Oh, well, you know me,” you grunt, your fingertips scratching his scalp. “I love to go above and beyond.”

“Let’s shoot for two,” he says into your collarbone.

“Don’t think I can handle using them all?”

He lifts his face up to be level with yours. “I’m saying that you won’t be walking straight after one. If we use more than two, I’ll be carrying you around campus for a week.”

“Sound like a challenge.”

“It’s a guarantee.”

You both smile brightly before you kiss, and you bunch up the cotton of his shirt exposing his soft skin and toned muscles something out of a romance novel.

“Like what you see?” he smirks.

“You’re too cocky for your own good,” you sigh as you run a hand down his exposed body. “But as a matter of fact, I really, really do.”

“Well, if you’re thinking of doing what I think you are, angel . . . Tonight is about you, and treating you right. How I should’ve treated you a long time ago.” He leans down and kisses your lips before moving the embraces along your cheek to just below your ear. “Sit back and relax, sweetheart. I’m gonna take good care of you.”

You sigh as he presses kisses down your chest, nipping at your cleavage and soothing the sting of any bite with his lips. You pant in excitement under his touch as his hands wrap around my back, unclasping your bra and sliding it painfully slow off of your body. You let out a sigh and toss your head to the side as his lips wrap around your nipple, one of his hands on your free breast while the other hand holds onto yours. Matt takes his time as if he’s trying to map out your body in his mind with his lips. Gazing down, you catch a glimpse of how happy Matt looks as he drags his lips further down your torso, pressing a long kiss on your belly button before unbuttoning your pants to shimmy them off your legs. Tossing them to the floor, he kisses all the way up your legs before spreading them apart to nestle his face against your covered core. You whine at his careful and deliberate movements, lifting your hips to help him slide the fabric off. Matt’s fingers gently spread you open, exposing yourself completely to him.

“Oh, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes. “So perfect for me.”

Carefully, he lets out a soft breath on your pussy before leaning forward and wrapping his lips around your clit.

“Oh!” you cry out. “Fuck . . .”

Your toes curl as Matt works his magic, and your eyes flutter shut as you let your mind get caught up in all the things that Matt is making you feel. If you had known he could make you feel like this—if you knew he even felt an inkling of the same way toward your, you would’ve done something to let him know that you care about him more more than a friend.

“Matty,” you breathe, running your fingers through his hair. “Oh, Matt, just like that. So good.”

You watch as Matt tries to lift his gaze upward to meet yours, his beautiful hazel eyes sparkling with delight as he eats you out. You swallow hard, throwing your head back as you feel your orgasm quickly approach. You cry out when you feel him slide two fingers into you, curling them just right to throw you over the edge. Your body arches off of the mattress as you cry out, your thighs clenching around his head. Matt’s tongue cleans up every last drop of your arousal before kissing all the way back up your body.

“You taste so good, angel,” he murmurs into your lips. “You ready for me?”

“Please,” you breathe, kissing him deeply. “I need you.”

He grins, kissing you again before leaning back and undoing his pants, shimmying them down enough to free his cock from the fabric before he reaches in his pocket to grab a condom. He is absolutely huge—delightfully so, and I feel the space between my legs instantly flood at the sight of him. Now what he said about not walking straight makes total sense, and not Matt just being cocky.

“All the way off,” you demand with a smile.

“Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

You bite your lip in excitement as he gets completely naked while you tear open the little foil package.

“C’mere,” you grin as you drink him in as he kneels on your bed, completely and utterly bare.

Matt licks his lips, doing as you ask, folding his arms behind his head. Fuck, he has to know what he’s doing when he rests like that. Carefully, you crawl over to him, putting the tip of the condom in your mouth before you wrap your hand around his base and bring your head down his length. Your jaw hurts as you go down his thick cock, but you manage to get it all the way down. When you get back up, you see how lust-blown Matt’s expression is, how flushed his cheeks and chest are.

“That was so fucking hot,” he hums. “Get over here, angel.”

With a smile, you move to meet him in a kiss, a new passion in the embrace that hand’t been there before.

“You ready for me?” he breathes.

“Yeah,” you nod eagerly as you dip down for a kiss.

With firm hands on your hips, he guides you down on his cock. You moan in harmony as he gets deeper and deeper in you, and it feels like you’re going to get split in two the further he goes. When you’re all the way down, he pulls you in for a deep kiss.

“Are you okay?” he breathes when your lips part.

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “You’re big."

“And you’re tight,” he smirks. “You good for me to move?”

“Oh, fuck, please.”

“Such good manners.”

With another kiss and a smile, Matt wraps his arms around you so your back is on the mattress and he’s hovering above you. You feel the sweet sting from the drag of his cock as he pulls out before pushing back in, testing and stretching you slowly as he starts to establish a rhythm. Your lips part as you feel more pleasure with each of Matt’s thrusts, one of your hands moving to his bicep and creating little crescent moons in his soft skin as he moves faster and faster.

“Right there,” you breathe. “Shit . . . Matt, yes, right there.”

“Good girl,” he hums. “So good taking my cock like that.”

“K-Kiss me,” you stutter, feeling your second orgasm approaching.

Looking at you tenderly, he leans down and kisses you long and slow, staying lower to keep little space between our bodies.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes, kissing your cheek. “So perfect.”

“Matt, ‘m close,” you whimper.

“Whenever you’re ready.” His hand cradles the side of your face, kissing you once more.

You bite your lip, stifling your moan as you come around Matt, your body clinging to his as he continues to move his hips, his skin flushing as he grunts, approaching his own release, spilling into the condom. He kisses you all over as your breathing steadies, pulling out and tossing the condom into the trash before wrapping you in his arms and kissing your wherever his lips can find skin.

“Matt,” you chuckle softly as he sucks marks into your collarbone.

“Shh,” he hums, kissing the marks to soothe them.

“Matt, it tickles!”

You feel his lips curl into a smile as he presses kisses up your neck. “I’ve always loved your laugh. This is just another way I can hear it.”

“And it’s another way I can see your smile.” You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You know, I bet if you give me enough time in between, we can use up all the condoms.”

“You think?”

“Nothing saying we can’t try.”

“Ambitious girl,” he smiles.

“It’s part of my charm. Why you like me. Why we work well together.”

“One of the reasons, yeah. There’s plenty of others, though.”

“Oh?”

“Mm.” He kisses your forehead. “I’ve got a whole list.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You giggle at the silence and look at him. “Are you gonna tell me any?”

Matt’s fingers trace aimless patterns on your skin. “I think you already know them, angel. But I’ll tell you one every day. Today, it’s your ambition. Tomorrow . . .” He lets out a breath. “It’ll be whatever feels right for me to point out.”

“Well, I’ve got a list, too. And right at the top is how safe you make me feel. How special you make me feel. How loved." You kiss his chest. "Tomorrow’s something might have to do with your nose.”

Matt’s expression is filled with tenderness, closing the gap between you once more, holding onto you and letting you rest right above his heart.

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[brokebonewritings]

Sinking Waters

Matt Murdock x reader

Tags/Warnings: 18+, language, mentions of alcohol/drugs, fluff, light angst

Summary: Matt and Foggy invite you out for a night. You wondered if Matt would ever make a move on you or if you would keep being mistook as a couple. Song: The Pink Phantom by Gorillaz

Word Count: 2K

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Your dorm room had filled with a haze as you blew the white smoke from your mouth. The blunt you held between your fingers had only been lit a few minutes, and it seemed like half of it was already smoked. 

This was the only nice thing about not having to share a dorm with anyone. You could sneak things like this in with no one snitching. Occasionally the kid from your Civil Procedures class would come smoke with you, along with his roommate.

His roommate. Matt Murdock. He was definitely a looker. Oh and Foggy was cool. Franklin Nelson. They both were definitely a dynamic duo. You all had become fast friends, finding lots of things in common.

A knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts. You dropped the blunt in the ashtray and went to open the door.

“Who is it?” You ask, hand on the doorknob.

“Housekeeping.” 

You laugh as you open your door, Matt and Foggy stand there with the dumbest grins plastered on their faces. Foggy had his arm wrapped around Matt’s shoulder while the other man gripped his cane. 

“Why do I feel like you guys are coming to kidnap me.” You say as you give Foggy the side eye.

“We were wondering if you wanted to come to a bar with us?” Foggy says casually.

“A bar?” You stared at them blankly. “Like for drinking?”

“I sure hope so.” Matt says lightly.

“Sure, let me finish my blunt and grab my coat real quick.” You say moving aside. They happily walk into your dorm room.

Matt sits at the empty desk chair while Foggy sits on the bed. You walk back over to the window and pick up the blunt and take a long inhale. The smoke no longer affected your lungs as you let it all out.

The three of you joke as you finish, and put on your winter coat. Within 20 minutes, you all are walking off the Columbia campus and into the busy streets of Harlem. It was a much different dynamic

You let Foggy and Matt the way to this mystery bar. They were both pretty trustworthy of a fun time. However some of the places you’ve trusted them with were absolute dives. This looked like one of those places. 

“Josies?” You mutter.

“Don’t like how it looks?” Matt’s voice responds questionly.

“Murdock, what did Foggy tell you this place looked like?”

“I told him it’s the sistine chapel, let's get moving people.” Foggy said before Matt could respond.

Opening the door, all three of you step in one by one. It was definitely a dive, but it was charming. You and Matt found a table and waited for Foggy to bring over the drinks.

“How many times have you actually been here, Matty.”

As he folded his cane up, he replied. “A few times, I think the owner likes Foggy.”

You turn your head towards the bar to see Foggy pseudo flirting with the waitress. He had a charm to him, and she definitely found it funny. Giggling, you turn back to Matt who was also chuckling.

“Okay but I gotta know, how did you even find this place?”

“Foggy stumbled upon it, and then forced me to come.” He starts. “It isn’t the sistine chapel, is it?”

Snorting in amusement, you shake your head. “It’s definitely not, but it’s not a bad place either.”

Three glasses were slammed on the table in front of you. Looking up you see Foggy looking triumphant.

“Lady and Gent. I have brought the gift of free alcohol, won by yours truly.” He announced.

“No way, how?” You ask

“Like I said, the owner likes Foggy.” Matt replied.

“Ha ha, you’re just jealous that the bartender actually thinks my jokes are funny.”

“Sure, man, let’s go with that.” 

You hand Matt his glass before taking your own. The golden liquid looked refreshing in the chilled glass. Okay so maybe it wasn’t a dive, but still. You take a long drink before setting the glass back on the table.

Before you knew it, you all had gone through a few drinks. Foggy gets up once more to retrieve more drinks which meant more time alone with Matt. Weren’t you so lucky tonight. Or not.

“Hello, handsome.”

You and Matt look up from your conversation to see a girl standing in front of the table.

“Can I help you?” Matt responds.

“Well I was just wondering what such a good looking man like you was doing here.” 

You stared at the girl before turning back to Matt. His jaw was slightly slack, like he didn't know how to respond. Which didn't happen often.

“My friends and I were just having some drinks. You know, enjoying each other's company?” He states. She turns to look at you before looking back at him.

“Oh sorry I thought you were single.” The girl nervously said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

You side eye Matt trying to gauge his reaction, but he looked stunned. He cleared his throat before responding.

“Oh no, we’re not together.” He starts and this makes your heart drop just a bit. Of course you weren’t together, you had only known each other a few months. Why were you getting your hopes up then?

“In that case, maybe I could get your number?” She says, smiling and twirling her hair.

Looking around to avoid listening to anymore of the conversation, you see Foggy coming back towards the table. He looks confused as to why you’re staring at him, until he sees the girl.

Finally reaching the table, he greets you and Matt again and sets your drinks down in front of you. The girl finally satisfied with her winnings leaves before Foggy could introduce himself.

“I think I need to use the bathroom.” You said as your heart beat loudly against your chest. Getting up, you walk to the back hallway in search of the bathroom. Of course once you entered you weren’t surprised by the state of it.

Two stalls and a makeout session. Classic. You enter the empty stall and lock it. Waiting. For what exactly, you had no idea. Time to pass, maybe.

After five minutes, you exit the stall after pretending to flush the toilet. Lo and behold, Matt’s new plaything was standing at the sink. Stalking over to wash your hands, you feel her eyes burning holes in your skull.

“It’s a little sad that he can’t see huh?”

You freeze. Was she talking to you? Dingus. Of course she was talking to you.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah I mean like, he’s cute, but like if he can’t see then what’s the point?”

“Why did you ask for his number then?”

There was a pause. Your voice was filled with something other than curiosity. You continue.

“Maybe the point is that he’s funny, smart, and considerate?”

“Uhm right. Anyways…” 

Apparently she deemed the conversation to be over as she turns and exits. You stand silently for a moment, taking in the full conversation. It was the first time you had defended Matt’s honor. 

Finally you make your way out of the bathroom. Looking around to remember where you all sat, you notice Matt staring in your direction. Or rather his head was turned that way.

You caught yourself staring, even after his head turned away. Did he know you were coming back? Another crazy thought. You make your way back to the table and find three shots of fireball waiting for you.

“What’s the catch?” You say as you arrive.

“Hey! Welcome back!” Matt said slightly slurred. 

“Oh my god, Foggy, what’s wrong with him?”

“I think Fireball is his kryptonite, dude.” He replied with a laugh.

“Yeah I’ll drink to that.” You say before slamming each shot back.

Never before had you seen him drunk. Not even tipsy. How in the world did he manage to get like this? After a few more drinks, both you and Foggy cut the other man off. Deciding it was finally time to get back to campus.

The walk to get Matt back to the dorm was long and silent. It was the first time you had seen him get as drunk as he was, but you and Foggy had no qualms of taking care of your friend.

Once you had finally gotten him in bed and settled, Foggy had asked to walk you back to your own dorm. You agreed and said you would wait outside.

Waiting along the long concrete wall you pull out your pack of cigarettes and light one. The night had been eventful to say the least. Your crush always seemed to pick other people. Not that you have actually tried to make advances.

You turn your head to see Foggy step out into the cold. Throwing your cigarette on the ground, you turn to face him as he walks up.

“I get the feeling that girl ruined your night.” He states bluntly.

“Why does this always happen? Every single time we’re in public, he gets hit on!” 

“Why does it matter?”

There was a long pause. Foggy gasps before grabbing your shoulders and shaking you.

“You like him!”

“Foggy, stop!”  You grab his wrists. “It doesn’t matter because he’ll never like me back!”

“Oh common, you don’t know that!”

“No it’s true! I’m too timid to even ask him on a date.”

You both stood quietly. He was processing what to say, and you were waiting for his response.

“Then, maybe, I don’t know.” 

“Nice, Fog. Really insightful there.”

“Okay, look. Yes, the guy is attractive but maybe just be his friend?” He starts. “He has enough women swooning over him.”

Nodding, you understood what he was saying. He continued to speak.

“Maybe things will evolve if you just be his friend. That’s how a lot of relationships work out anyways.”

He was right. Lots of relationships sprouted from friendships. It would be a way to get to know each other.

“You’re right. Sorry I snapped at you.” You say.

“It’s alright, I know I can be a lot sometimes.” 

“Not at all, You’re very charming and any girl would be lucky to date you.”

“You’re too kind. Now, let's get you home.”

With that he offered his arm out to you and you gladly took it. You realize that you’ve finally found some friends who cared about you. Nothing like people back home.

New York had some strange characters. Nasty one, yeah, but also some that are fun to be around. Just like Foggy, and just like Matt.

Halfway back to your dorm room, you look up at Foggy. He was going on about how one of his professors had the hots for him. You giggle, and lean into his shoulder. Feeling him tense up a bit, you look back up.

“You okay?” You ask.

He nods at you and looks up towards the sky.

“You know, Aristotle said ‘Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.’”

“Since when did you pay attention in Philosophy?” 

“I’ll have you know that just because my eyes are closed, it doesn't mean that I’m not listening.” He chuckles. “Anyways, the point is it’s clear that you and Matt were made for each other. You just gotta wait.”

“That might have been the most comforting thing you’ve ever said.” You smirk. “But thanks. You’re a great friend, Fog.”

“And you know how you thank great friends?” He says stopping in front of your building.

“How?”

“By offering them to come inside and smoke a joint.”

You begin to loudly laugh, and he joins you. Not caring about the passersby staring at you both. Nodding you invite him in and give him a little extra for later on. 

After he leaves, you sit alone in the dorm. It’s dimly lit by the small lamp you have and the lights from outside. Being with one of the guys you realize how comfortable you feel and less lonely. 

Foggy’s words linger in your mind, “You just gotta wait.”. It was easier said than done, but you listen. You wait. The whole semester. Through graduation. Years. Until…

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#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fic #daredevil #daredevil netflix #fluff #matt murdock fanfic #foggy nelson #Foggy and Matt in college #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #marvel

[mabelstone]

Prof. Stone.

matt stone x reader

summary: your calculus professor's got it out for you. you're going to change that.

word count: 831

note: a short introductory chapter. no 18+ (yet... hehe)

hes a bit of a dick in this one but he will get nicer. maybe.

pls lmk what you think! asks are always open with suggestions :)

also i dont know why the picture quality sucks sorry

Part One.

You begrudgingly walked into lecture theatre for your calculus class; the one you’d had to take for extra credits. You’d hated math ever since elementary, but since you weren’t doing well in your psychology degree, you had to pick up an extra course over the summer. As calculus was the only class not full, here you were, surrounded by a bunch of arrogant overachievers who seemed to be passing you in every way imaginable.

To make things worse, your professor had it out for you, or at least it felt that way. As the rest of the class piled in filling the seats around you, you rested your arms on the tiny desk, your head following suit with an exhausted sigh.

After several minutes passed, the chatter in the room died down and the theatre door echoed shut. “Morning,” your professor mumbled, placing his things down on his desk before taking out his laptop and fiddling with the projector. He was a tall, sinewy man probably in his late forties, early fifties, with short, curly hair, and a neatly kempt beard. He was a handsome man, and you often heard girls in the class whispering about him, and no doubt, he heard too. You could tell by his demeanour, the way he carried himself. He knew he was good looking, which in his mind meant he didn’t need to go out of his way to be friendly. You lifted your head from your arms and opened your laptop, wishing more than anything you were still in bed.

As you waited, you rested your hand on your cheek, letting out a large yawn. The mumbling in the background seemed to fade as you allowed your eyes to flutter closed.

“Usually, we rest before we come to class,” you jolted awake at the harsh voice of your professor, who was only inches from your face.

“Sorry, sir, I-“

“Alright!” He proclaimed to the class, ignoring you and heading back to the front of the theatre. “I was very impressed with the assessments you turned in, give or take a few.” The class chuckled at his snide comment, causing you to huff and slump back into your seat. That assessment kicked your ass and there was no way you passed. “I’ll pass out your results shortly, but in the meantime, revise chapters fourteen to thirty; they’re relevant to your exam.”

As he handed out everyone’s papers, you flicked through to page fourteen, struggling to keep your eyes open. “Y/N,” your professor approached your desk in a hushed tone, his green eyes piercing through you with a glint of disappointment. “Stay back once everyone leaves, okay?” You nodded, your face turning red as he slid the paper onto your desk; 20% circled in bright red marker. Fuck.

As the lesson wrapped up, he said goodbye to the class and packed his things away. You remained seated at your desk, heart pounding, incredibly embarrassed. You watched as the last two girls in the class went up and thanked him for their grades, batting their eyelashes and claiming that they were so grateful.

“You’re welcome, ladies,” he smiled, ushering them out of the theatre. He made his way over to you, clasping his hands together. “Right, you know why you’re here, yes?”

You sighed loudly, slouching back into your seat. “Stab in the dark, could it be my shit grade?”

“Well, it’s not because of your wonderful attitude,” he huffed sarcastically, leaning on the edge of his desk, arms crossed over his chest. “Why are you even taking this class, Y/N?”

You shrugged, crossing your own arms. “I need the points,” you claimed in a blasé tone.

“You’re not gonna get them with this pathetic effort,” he snickered, watching the way you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “Did you even try?”

“Of course I did,” you retorted in defence. “I just have no fucking clue what I’m doing.”

He moved toward you, not breaking eye contact, his voice stern. “Maybe you would if you didn’t sleep every lesson.” He walked over to your desk, placing his large, veiny hand onto your paper, chuckling under his breath, "you certainly aren't tired from studying calculus."

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, gathering your things. “Did you seriously hold me back to belittle me? Look, Mr. Stone, I’m sorry I didn’t do well.” You made your way to the door feeling humiliated. You wouldn’t be coming back. “It wouldn’t hurt you to be a little nicer by the way.”

Just as you were about to grab the handle, he spoke up. “I will help you.” You dropped your hand turning back to him. “If you will actually try and not waste either of our time, I will help you. Because you will not pass without it.”

“Okay.” You replied dryly. You knew he was right.

“Stay back tomorrow after class.” He nodded to the door, and without another word, you left.

Okay, maybe you would be coming back.

#matt stone x reader #matt stone #south park #baseketball #matt stone smut #professor #trey parker #college #orgazmo #matt and trey #trey parker x reader

[differenteagletragedy]

RIP MC (Sorry Baxter)

So i got a request for Baxter finding out MC had died during the five years he was gone and I wrote this WHOLE ASS THING without realizing what that meant. So if I do two Baxter angst fics in a row with a dead MC, please don't call me out on it, I already know :(

"Did you have fun in Cali, Ass-ter?"

"I did, Richard, and that's very clever, as always."

Baxter let out a light sigh, not very excited to be reunited with his college roommates. He tried to focus on his task on unpacking his things as Richard and Matt, the two spoiled rich boys he shared a suite with in one of the school's more expensive dorms, high fived over the unbearably stupid nickname they'd given him during their freshman year.

He was a spoiled rich boy too, he recognized. But at least he was a little quieter about it.

He began the task of putting his finer clothes in his closet, carefully picking up the hanger his tux was on and putting it away first. He ran a hand fondly over the coat, remembering the last time he'd worn it. With you.

When his roommates decided to turn on the tv, looking for a game, he barely paid attention, instead lost in his thoughts. He'd been miserable, even more miserable than normal, since he'd left you. He kept telling himself that it was for the best, that it made sense, that you wouldn't miss him nearly as much as you'd thought you would -- probably not even at all. He was fun for a little while, he knew that much about himself, but carrying out a relationship, even just a friendship, over texts and phone calls across the country?

He wasn't worth that. He'd hated seeing you so upset with the way he left, but at least it was a sharp sort of pain over the dull ache that would had happened as you inevitably lost interest in him.

"Hey Baxter, isn't this where you were?"

"Hmm?" he asked, barely registering what Matt had asked. Both boys were looking at the television, so that's where he turned his attention.

There was your picture on the screen. You were smiling brightly, dressed in a swimsuit. He recognized both.

He stared at the photo, puzzled, trying to piece together what your photo would be doing on the news. It was like his brain got a little foggy trying to figure it out, but a few words did fight their way through.

"Rip current," was one he heard. Another was "drowned."

His heart started beating faster, so hard that it became all he could hear. The room started getting hot, much hotter than it had been, and breathing became difficult.

He vaguely registered his roommates approaching him, but instead of trying to fight through whatever he was feeling to respond to them, he promptly turned and left the suite.

Baxter wasn't sure where he was going, he just knew that the room had suddenly become much too small. Without thinking much about it, he made his way out of the building and started walking. He wasn't aware of any conscious thought he had, too overwhelmed by the pounding of his own heart, and suddenly he was by a small pond on campus, kneeling by the edge of the water and gasping for air.

It didn't make sense, he thought. That couldn't have been you. It must have been someone who looked like you. Why would you be on the news all the way in Virginia? And there was no possible way you could have drowned. Not in the ocean you knew like the back of your hand.

Still, as much as he tried to convince himself that he'd misunderstood what he'd heard, an aching pain began forming in his chest, and soon he was sobbing.

If anyone else had noticed him down by the pond, they didn't approach him. He sat like that for a while, trying to remember how to breathe and telling himself over and over that you were ok, before he remembered the phone stuck down in his pocket.

With a considerable amount of hesitation, he pulled it out, then opened his browser. After shaking out his hand a few times in an attempt to steady it, he did a search for your name.

He'd heard right the first time.

He read as much as he could stand -- you'd gone out to the beach by your house the night before to swim, but you hadn't come home. That morning, as people from the neighborhood searched, your body ...

That's where he stopped reading.

Baxter hadn't planned on ever seeing you again. He knew that. As he flew over the country after leaving you, he'd tried to minimalize the entire summer and what it had meant to him until he'd almost convinced himself that that's what he actually wanted.

But knowing now that it wasn't a possibility to see you again, that it would never happen ... that even if he magically became a person who could believe in himself and fight for what he really wanted, that he couldn't have you, was a pain he couldn't have ever prepared himself for.

Once his tears slowed, he pulled himself up, absentmindedly brushing off his legs. He looked in the water. It was dark and still, nothing like the ocean he'd seen with you over the summer. Even so, he couldn't stop himself from picturing you in there, struggling.

He slammed his eyes shut and put both hands in his hair, then balled them into fists, pulling. The pain became forefront in his mind, and he managed to take a breath. Then another.

You were going to be there, Baxter realized. In the water. In the sand, in the mountains, in bowling alleys and cupcakes and feather boas and coffee shops. In summer. There was no way of changing that.

He was just going to have to find a way to live with it.

#our life beginnings and always #olba #our life #baxter ward #olba baxter #our life baxter #baxter x mc #baxter x you #baxter x reader #baxter ward x you #baxter ward x mc #baxter ward x reader #our life angst #i've been thinking about baxter in college so i already knew about richard and matt and those guys are the wooooooooorst #i've been trying to write about college baxter but it's just so so sad