#college matt

[roennq]

Moments: 2/x Matt meets Foggy ↪ "This is gonna be awesome!" "What is?" "Me, as your wingman!"

[the-sparrows-providence]

imagine after the Riko Roast the Foxes just start saying “you know, I get it,” at any minor inconvenience or annoyance. It becomes their new team-wide inside joke. Nicky burns his toast and just looks at the toaster, “you know, I get it.” Dan and Allison talking with each other about an annoying prof, “you know, I get it.” Matt locks himself out of the room, “you know, I get it.”

Neil being annoyed/embarrassed by it only encourages them to do it more and they start dropping it all the time. Andrew says it to Aaron every chance he gets. Practice basically stops when Kevin finally says it for the first time after everyone keeps fumbling the new drill. Dan even catches Wymack saying it while on the phone with Andritch. The new freshmen have no idea where it came from but eventually they start using it too.

And when Neil finally gets fed up with someone else and uses it again a year and a half later at another banquet or event, the team dissolves into an uproar like they just won championships.

[egotisticaleverything]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You.

You.

You.

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

“Did I do good?”

[littlebirdygirlywriting]

Matt and Foggy vibes. 😂

[vampirekangaroo]

I seriously love their friendship so much.

Me and you, pal. We’re gonna have big, fancy offices one day, with steel and glass and chairs you don’t even know how to sit in.

[flutterbabee]

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

[kisspotion]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sugashook]

waking up ! [college edition]

doodl

[sweetdispatch]

he's so real for that comment

[roennq]

Moments: 3/x Matt meets Elektra | 10 years later ↪ "There was always this glorious darkness inside you."

[jasperlore]

Are we multi shipping here? Ik we’re moots cause of spideypool but I would looove to hear who your other fave pairings are

Outside of SpideyPool I just kinda like ships with peter because I'm a sucker for (any flirtatious character) x spider-man lol Wade x Peter Matt x Peter Johnny x Peter Felicia x Peter Gwen x Peter and ofc, the soulmates themselves, MJ x Peter

[firehart9]

College Mattfoggy as the Scott Pilgrim takes off screencap ✨

They’re so special to me I’m gonna pass out

[jeffbuckleysconvent]

college!matt murdock taking you out on a date. flowers, him in a suit, a nice dinner, the whole deal. making you tie his tie, feigning incompetence. he knows damn well he can do it, or could ask foggy for help, but he’ll take any chance for you to have your hands on him. he acts like the perfect dominant gentleman as the waiter only talks to him, and hands him the bill. dragging him on his knees the second you get back to your dorm, tying his tie again, only this time you’re tightening it around his wrists. not even bothering to slip your dress off, simply lifting the skirt, staring down at his brown puppy dog eyes. puppy dog is the right adjective, as he laps at your cunt like a dog drinking water on a hot day. pulling him back by his hair, forcing him to stop as you smirk down at him. although you hang on his arm out in public, the two of you know who the boss is behind closed doors and tucked sheets.

[stark-illerbase]

Stick @ 14 year old Matt

[matt-murdockk]

I can fix him (no really I can)

They shake their heads saying, "God help her" When I tell them he's my man But your good Lord doesn't need to lift a finger I can fix him, no, really I can And only I can

college!matt murdock x fem!reader | fluff— a whole lotta fluff | sorta friends to lovers? | fic from reader's pov, then a pov switch to third person

Matt Murdock famously doesn't stick around for longer than a month, tops. You were determined to change that.

Pre-law golden boy with an aura that exudes confidence, Matt was the person everyone either wanted to be, or wanted to be with. He knew that, and his faux modesty only made it worse for the masses desperate to get a piece of him. Am I one of—? Please, I'd fuck a tree before I fuck Matt Murdock. Not that I hate him or anything. I'm just not on the bed anyone with abs and a personality bandwagon. Good for him for all that attention he's getting, but my ties with him start and end in class. He's just a classmate.

Okay, maybe not just a classmate.

We share notes. Sometimes. Only when he forgets his, which is rare, because apparently being hot and capable is a combo this man insists on wielding like a goddamn weapon. Once, he offered to buy me coffee as a thank you and I made the mistake of saying yes. We ended up talking for an hour. One hour. And somehow I left that conversation knowing his middle name, his favourite diner his dad used to take him to, and exactly what kind of espresso he drinks before a big exam.

It was fine. It’s fine. People have conversations all the time. I’m not spiraling.

We became friends. Real ones. That was the problem.

Because here’s the thing: Matt Murdock is a disaster.

Not on paper. No— on paper, he’s perfect. He’s top of the class, charming when he wants to be, a little cocky, but in a way that makes you laugh instead of wanting to push him down the stairs.

But spend enough time around him and you start to notice things.

Like how he never lets anyone get close. Like how he flirts with half the campus but every single one of his flings ends in vague silence and awkward glances the next day. Like how he knows exactly how to listen to someone but refuses to let anyone hear him.

It’s not a red flag. It’s a goddamn red parade.

So of course I did what any completely normal person with an ounce of self-preservation would do.

I caught feelings for that bastard.

Of course, it's the emotionally unavailable mess with enough red flags to decorate a fucking carnival that catches my attention. Just my goddamn luck.

And, in a moment of sheer lunacy, decided I could fix him.

No really, I could. Just needed time. And patience. And maybe a crowbar for emotional extraction. Whatever. I’ve done harder things. If I can survive Mr Vasquez's class, I can survive whatever this is.

I just have to make sure he never finds out I like him. And also make him like me back. And maybe heal years of trust issues in the process.

Easy, right?

Well, it wasn’t.

Because what started as some deranged attempt to break into the fortress that is Matt Murdock turned into something else entirely. We became friends. Real friends. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being about fixing him and started being about just… being there.

And God help me, I think he needed that more than anything.

It wasn’t just me and Matt anymore, either. Foggy came into the picture fast— bright-eyed, effortlessly funny, with an incredible ability to sniff out bullshit in under five seconds. The three of us? Unstoppable. Study sessions, lunch breaks, late-night coffee runs before an exam. They were my people.

So yeah. The plan backfired. Spectacularly. But I had friends for life now, so I couldn’t exactly call it a failure.

It didn’t mean it stopped hurting, though.

Matt’s life… it wasn’t easy. I could see it in the way he shut down when he was overwhelmed, how he buried himself in work instead of letting anyone in. Some nights he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, but he’d still crack a joke just to make Foggy laugh.

And when he was with other women— when he flirted like it was a language only he spoke— it hurt. Even when I told myself I didn’t have a right to feel that way. He wasn’t mine. I made sure of that.

I’d smile through it. Tease him, even. Make some stupid quip about his tragic taste in women and let the ache settle where no one could see it.

Except Foggy noticed.

He always does.

One afternoon— study session turned snack break in our usual booth— Foggy caught me staring too long. Matt was across the room talking to a girl from one of our electives, charming smile and all.

“You okay?” he asked, nudging me with his elbow.

I blinked. “Yeah. Fine.”

“You sure? Because that definitely wasn’t your ‘fine’ face. That was your ‘I’m swallowing feelings and pretending to be emotionally stable’ face.”

I sighed, resting my chin on my palm. “He’s not doing anything wrong.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I turned to him. “Foggy, I’m not gonna pull a dramatic ‘what are we’ in the middle of a group project. Matt may be a lot of things, but you really cannot force him to be something he doesn’t want to be.”

Foggy frowned. “But do you think he doesn’t want—?”

“Matt would probably suck at relationships,” I said, more tired than bitter. “Like, actual long-term ones. He likes the chase, he likes the moment. And that’s fine. He’s allowed to live how he wants. I just… I’m happy being his friend. Genuinely. Give it time. I’ll get over it.”

Foggy was quiet for a second. “That was… wildly mature.”

“Yeah well, personal growth is a bitch.”

He grinned. “Still. If it helps, he’s not as smooth as he thinks.”

I snorted. “No, but he is absurdly pretty. That makes up for a lot.”

We let the topic die after that. I figured that was the end of it.

I didn’t know Matt had heard.

—————————————————————————————————

Third Person POV

Matt had only come back for his notebook.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He hadn’t meant to hear that.

But he had.

He stopped just shy of the hallway corner, heart thudding loud in his chest. The way her voice dropped when she said “I’ll get over it.”

The words hit harder than he expected.

She thought he’d be a bad boyfriend.

Worse— she didn’t even think he was worth trying.

And Matt knew— he knew— he hadn’t been great. He had a lot on his plate, a whole goddamn feast of mess, but he never once thought she saw him like that. Not undeserving.

She didn’t know he stayed up wondering what it’d feel like to kiss her. For real. Without laughing it off or playing it cool. She didn’t know how often his fingers hovered near hers and didn’t reach. How badly he wanted to.

But if she thought he wasn’t capable of it? Of loving her the way she deserved?

He had to change that.

Not just for her. For him. For the version of himself he wanted to be—the kind that could love someone, openly and fully, without messing it up.

“Jesus,” Foggy muttered when he saw Matt later that night. “You look like you saw a ghost. Or rather... felt a ghost? I don't know, man.”

“I heard something,” Matt said, collapsing onto his bed, voice low.

“Define ‘something.’”

“(Y/N) said I’d be a bad boyfriend.”

Foggy blinked. “Okay. Context?”

Matt dragged a hand over his face. “She was talking to you. In the booth. Earlier.”

Foggy raised his brows. “You, uh, you were there?”

“I forgot my notebook.”

Foggy held up his hands. “Alright, okay. First off— she didn’t say you’d be a bad boyfriend. She said you’d probably suck at steady relationships. Big difference.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, because you’ve never tried a steady relationship. Which is kind of the point.”

Matt groaned. “I need to fix this.”

Foggy stared. “Okay, I’m gonna need you to walk me through your version of fixing this.”

Matt sat up. “I’m gonna prove her wrong.”

Foggy blinked. “You’re gonna… ask her out?”

“No,” Matt said quickly. “I mean— yes. Eventually. But first I need to become the kind of guy she thinks could be a good boyfriend. You know. Change her mind.”

Foggy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Just fuck already.”

Matt frowned. “What?”

Foggy threw his hands in the air. “You like her. She likes you. I have seen you two. Why do you think you want her to stay longer after we're done studying? Why do you think you linger? Why do you think you bring her coffee and save her a seat and remember her deadlines better than your own?”

Matt opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

“She fell first, you fell harder,” Foggy said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You know the drill, man.”

Matt stared.

“…Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. My brother in Christ, you’re in love.”

Matt exhaled.

“…Shit.”

——————————————————————————————————

Matt didn’t sleep that night.

He lay awake, headphones in, a lecture playing that he didn’t hear, the words echoing over and over again in his head.

“She fell first.”

“You fell harder.”

He didn’t even realize when it happened. Somewhere between her snorting at his awful Latin puns and handing him half her sandwich because he forgot to eat again— he’d fallen. And now she thought he was incapable of loving her the way she deserved.

It felt like a punch to the chest.

But instead of wallowing, he decided to do something.

Starting now.

The next morning, Matt showed up to your apartment with coffee. Your exact order. No text beforehand. No heads-up.

You opened the door in pajama shorts and a hoodie, one sock on and a pen still tucked behind your ear.

“Matt?”

He held up the coffee like it was a peace offering. “You mentioned your 9 a.m. was with Vasquez today. I figured you’d need a hit of caffeine and a minor miracle.”

You blinked. “…That’s weirdly thoughtful of you.”

He smiled. “I’ve been working on that.”

And then he left. Just like that.

No flirting. No lingering.

Just… left.

You stared after him, cup in hand, completely thrown.

It didn’t stop there.

Matt started walking you to class. All the time.

Not just when you happened to be heading the same direction. On purpose.

He’d show up at your building with some excuse— “I needed air,” or “Foggy wasn’t ready yet”— and fall into step beside you like it was routine.

Then came the favors. Printing your notes when the Wi-Fi was down. Fixing the broken strap on your bag. Letting you drag him to that awful late-night diner when you were too wired to sleep.

You didn’t get it.

This wasn’t how Matt Murdock operated.

Matt Murdock flirted, ghosted, and moved on.

This? This was effort.

It was also torture.

Because the more he did it, the more you started to hope. Stupid, dangerous hope. Maybe he did like you. Maybe this wasn’t one-sided after all.

But every time you thought about asking, about saying something— he’d flash that same unreadable smile and change the subject.

So you kept your mouth shut. Kept watching. Waiting.

Hoping.

Meanwhile, Foggy was losing his mind.

“You can’t just— Matt, you cannot boyfriend her without telling her.”

Matt frowned, folding his arms. “I thought this was the part where I prove myself.”

“To who? To her? She already likes you. You’re not proving anything except that you’re allergic to communication.”

“I’m building a foundation.”

Foggy looked pained. “You’re building a bad sitcom plot. Just tell her.”

Matt hesitated. “She said she didn’t want that. She said she’d get over me.”

Foggy sighed so hard, his soul probably left his body.

“Matt. Listen to me. She said that because she didn’t think she could have you. You have ghosted every girl before her, remember?”

Matt winced. “Not every—”

“Every.”

“…Fair.”

Foggy ran a hand down his face. “You’re gonna lose her if you don’t speak up.”

Matt didn’t respond.

Because deep down, he knew it was true.

——————————————————————————————————

It started with Foggy texting you.

Which was already suspicious, because Foggy never texted first unless Matt was—

foggy: hey can you swing by the quad after class?

foggy: matt’s planning something

foggy: i’m scared :,)

Now, when someone like Foggy— sweet, unshakeable, usually-down-for-anything Foggy— is scared, you listen. You changed your route and headed toward the quad.

And promptly stopped dead in your tracks.

Because what the hell were you looking at.

Matt Murdock stood on a bench.

On a goddamn bench. In broad daylight. Holding what looked like a beat-up portable speaker above his head like he was channelling John Cusack in Say Anything.

Button-down rolled to the elbows. Hair tousled like it’d been run through about seven too many times. Foggy was standing off to the side looking like he was actively regretting every life decision that brought him here.

“Oh no,” you whispered. “Oh no.”

A group of students was already watching, phones half-raised. Matt didn’t seem to care.

You watched, frozen, as he raised a hand and cleared his throat. Actually cleared his throat. Like he was about to deliver a valedictorian speech. You saw Foggy mutter don’t do it, like a prayer.

Matt did it anyway.

“I, uh… I know this is weird,” he began, voice carrying over the quad, “but I have something to say. Something important.”

The crowd murmured. A few giggles. One guy yelled “Murdock, you proposing?” which earned a sharp shut up from someone else. Foggy, probably.

Matt ignored it. His face was dead serious. “There’s someone I’ve been an idiot about. Someone smart and stubborn and too good to waste time on someone like me. But she did anyway. She does. And if she’s here—” his head turned slightly “— I want her to know I’m sorry. And that I like her. A lot.”

You blinked.

Foggy made frantic eye contact with you from the sidelines and mouthed stop him.

But you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Matt continued. “I was scared, okay? I thought I’d ruin it. Ruin her. But then I realized I’d rather screw up trying to be with her than let her go without even trying. So, (Y/N),” he called, voice way too confident for a man committing this level of social suicide. “This one’s for you.”

A soft click, followed by the unmistakable synthy intro of Truly Madly Deeply by Savage Garden.

Savage. Fucking. Garden.

You clapped a hand over your mouth.

Someone nearby went “What is happening?”

Matt? he looked hopeful.

And you— stupid, stunned, wildly endeared— were just about to take a step forward when—

Cue the sprinkler system turning on.

Every. Single. Sprinkler.

They sputtered, then blasted to life across the quad like a synchronized ambush. A collective scream rose as people scrambled away, books and phones held over heads.

Matt? Got hit square in the chest, earning a strained Jesus from him.

Foggy somewhere in the periphery muttering “I told him” like a man in mourning.

You? Soaked. Wide-eyed. Laughing.

You actually had to cover your mouth, you were laughing so hard.

Matt stepped down, water dripping from his sleeves. He looked around like he was being personally smitten by the gods. It was like the universe waited for maximum dramatic tension just to drop the punchline.

The song cut out with a strangled sputter as the speaker died a wet, heroic death. Students screamed. Matt cursed under his breath as he was immediately soaked. Foggy, who had clearly seen this coming, was already power-walking toward the nearest tree, muttering “I’m too pretty for this.”

You stood there in shock as water poured down on everyone.

And then— you burst out laughing.

You couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop it. You doubled over, drenched, laughing so hard it echoed louder than the chaos around you.

Matt stood on the bench, blinking water from his lashes, the speaker dangling uselessly from one hand. He looked like a wet, confused puppy. A hot wet confused puppy. Weird analogy. But still.

You pushed your hair from your eyes and walked over, completely soaked.

“This was your grand romantic gesture?” you asked between giggles.

He ran a hand down his face, sopping. “It was supposed to be better.”

You looked up at him, the pathetic speaker still crackling faintly in his grip. “It was absolutely ridiculous.”

A pause.

You smiled. “It was perfect.”

Foggy squelched up behind you both. “Okay, you’ve both had your romcom moment, can I go home now? My socks are... squishy.”

Matt turned to him, still trying to catch his breath. “Thanks for… whatever part you played in this.”

“I want that thank you in writing,” Foggy muttered. “And a refund for emotional distress.”

You turned back to Matt.

“Do I get to keep the boombox?”

He grinned. “It’s mostly water now. But sure.”

You took a slow step closer. “So… boyfriend material yet?”

He reached out— careful, gentle— and brushed a piece of wet hair behind your ear. “Getting there.”

And then you kissed him.

In the middle of the quad. Soaked to the bone. Surrounded by students who definitely started applauding and whistling, because of course they did.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Foggy just shook his head.

“Seriously. I hate you both.”

You smiled at him. “Love you too, Fog.”

And Matt?

Well, he didn’t run.

Not this time.

a/n: alright so the fic took a detour from what i had originally planned, it was going to be angst, reader was going to be fwb with matt, and well it's a whole thing, a lot of changes happened but i didn't change the title because well i got attached. i know it doesn't really make sense now with how the story turned out, but i'm leaving it in the story anyway, hope you liked it!

[flutterbabee]

Thinking about college!Matt, who tells you all the time how he's nothing like those sex-crazed frat bros, how they're all just brutes, and how you'd deserve so much more than some drunken one-night stand on an uncomfortable and worn-out couch that you'd no doubt regret in the morning. He's practically offering himself to you as a guaranteed 'good time,' and despite your best efforts, curiosity eventually gets the better of you, and that's how you end up with your back against the wall, both legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms clinging around his neck. The worst part is that he knows that by the end of the night you're going to be craving his cock; he knows what he's doing and that it feels good for you, and he knows that after tonight you're going to end up inviting him back to your room so he can keep tossing your guts in a knot until he's fucked you on every possible surface in your bedroom.

Old draft I never posted \(-⭘-")/