#college!matt murdock x fem!reader

[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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Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

[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

[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.

[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."

[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

[j-eryewrites]

Til We Meet Again

MAIN MASTER LIST | REQS OPEN

Word Count: 6.k

Pairings: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Matthew Murdock

I wrote this out of my current/renewed Matt Murdock obsession. I most definitely could write a part 2/entire series based on this one-shot, so if any of you would like to encourage my current crush and desire to write about Matt, plz do...XD

“Come on, babes,” begged Cameron. Her wrist bobbed up and down to pump the mascara wand in and out of the bottle. She pulled the wand out, covered in the black cosmetic. The dark shade was a stark contrast to her vibrant lime-green hair. A spontaneous decision of the past week. A spontaneous decision of many that decorated her body. 

Y/N chuckled as she watched her best friend put on her mascara face: Jaw slack and open showcasing the tongue piercing from two months ago, her coffee-coloured eyes wide, and eyebrows raised impossibly high. 

“It’s your last chance to have real fun. Hon,” chimed Cameron. She turned around and leaned against the counter in the bathroom. Her bright orange slip dress turned sour the longer Y/N looked at it. “You’ve never been to a college party. Hell, you’ve never been to college. You’ve spent your entire life dancing and now you’re flying off to Copenhagen.” Cameron waved her free hand up and feigned dramatically. “You’ll leave me behind as you dance among the stars. Forever forgetting your best friend.” 

“Drama queen,” giggled Y/N. “I won’t forget you. How could I ever!” Y/N jumped up from her seat on Cameron’s bed matching Cameron’s dramatic energy. 

Cameron chuckled and swirled around to look back into the mirror. “Can you see my spanks?” Cameron asked as she lifted the dress lightly giving way to the neon blue shorts underneath. 

“Nope,” Y/N said entering the bathroom. She began to peruse Cameron’s makeup bag. Her nose scrunched up as she looked at the lipstick colours her friend had. 

“Ooh! Sex on the beach! My favourite colour.” Cameron exclaimed and she snatched it from Y/N’s hands. 

“Sex on the beach? Really?” 

“It’s a beautiful colour, babes,” Cameron said with a smack of her lips. She offered it to Y/N. “Wanna try it?” 

Y/N looked up from the brilliant yellow lipstick with a quizzical expression on her face and shook her head. It was too bold for her. The boldest shade Y/N had ever put on her lips was black and that was for her role as the Black Swan in her ballet school’s production of Swan Lake. 

“I’ll stick to chapstick, thanks.” 

“Your loss.” Cameron hummed. The woman began to check herself out in the mirror. She pursed her lips and popped her hip to the side. “How do I look?”

“You look like a slushy,” Y/N replied bluntly. 

“Perfect, Babes!” Cameron blew Y/N a kiss. “That’s what I was going for. Everyone loves a sexy slushy.”

Y/N giggled at Cameron’s comments. The giggle turned into a laugh which spread to Cameron. 

 “Okay, chica, be honest,” Cameron said, collecting herself. “From a scale of the Goonies to Dirty Dancing, how sexy am I?”

Y/N looked her friend up and down. “Depends on what shoes you’re gonna wear.” She replied. 

Cameron chuckled and ran into her room. She swung open her closet doors and pulled out two pairs of shoes. One pair was her party tennis shoes; white vans with beer stains. The other was a pair of six-inch black heels, the ones she wore to her pole dancing classes. 

“Okay,” Y/N said. “If you go with the vans, then you’ll be a Top Gun sexy and if you go with the heels you’ll be a Rocky Horror Picture Show kind of hot.” 

A wide grin flashed on Cameron’s face. “This is why you’re my best friend, babes.” Cameron looked between the shoes and settled on the heels. She tossed the tennis shoes into the closet. “Rocky Horror Sexy it is,” she winked. 

Y/N smiled as her friend put on the heels. Now, Cameron stood an inch taller than Y/N, something Cameron took pride in. 

“Your turn honeybuns,” Cameron sang. 

Y/N shook her head. “I’m not going, Cameron. I have an international flight tomorrow and I’m going to need all the sleep I can get. “

Cameron began to whine. Her eyes fell and widened to a size that would make a cartoon character jealous. “Please?” 

“Cameron…” Y/N said warningly. Her face betrayed the determination in her voice as she smiled at her friend's antics. 

“We can get Wendy’s...AND” Cameron began. “You can pick which songs we listen to on the drive over to the party AND back.” 

Y/N dropped her head back with a sigh and looked up at the ceiling. She groaned and rolled her head around to back at Cameron and her puppy eyes. 

“Fine, I’ll go.” 

Cameron squealed and jumped up and down. Her hands clapped loudly as she had just received the best news of her life. 

“I have the perfect dress!”

“No…” Y/N began but Cameron had already shoved a mesh, basically see-through, dress into Y/N’s hands. “I’m not wearing this.” 

Cameron frowned. 

“Cam, there is no way in hell, I’ll be wearing this. Besides, I have my own clothes.” 

Cameron sighed as Y/N showed her friend the light blue slip dress she had packed. It shimmered in the moon on a dark night. It was beautiful and definitely something one would not wear to a college party–a college party at a frat house. 

“You’ll look like a mother-fucking princess. Babes,” Cameron whines, “we’re supposed to look like whores together.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I refuse to wear the dress. It’s either I look like a princess, or I’m not going.”

Cameron growled and then caved into her friend’s request. Y/N smiled as she changed into the dress. Her soft hands ran over the silky dress. She turned around to show Cameron and her friend smiled.

 “I take it back. That’s Dirty Dancing hot, chica.” Cameron commented. 

Y/N smiled and looked in the mirror. She really did look beautiful. “Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” Y/N winked. 

“Speaking of, baby.” Cameron chimed. “You need some makeup with that outfit. Ooo, and a fun hairdo!” 

“Cameron…”

“I wasn’t asking.” Sensing her friend’s reluctance she continued, “I promise I won’t give you crazy makeup. Just enough to highlight your beautiful face and I’ll, ooo, curl your hair. You wear it in buns all the time. It’s time you show off your gorgeous locks.”

Y/N smiled at her friend and then hopped onto the counter. Y/N's legs swayed as Cameron brushed her cosmetic products on her friend’s face. The two of them chatted, belting songs, and having some pre-game drinks. The two of them felt as if this night would for sure be a night to remember. 

___________

“Come on Matt. It’s gonna be a night to remember. Finals are over. One more year of college done. One step closer to Nelson and Murdock,” Foggy raised the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Matt’s shoulder to motion to the imaginary business sign. “Nelson and Murdock,” Foggy whispered for dramatic effect. 

Matt laughed at his friend’s actions. Clearly, Foggy did a little bit too much pre-partying in their dorm. The blond was already leaning on Matt making it hard for him to walk straight on the sidewalk and not into the busy road. 

“Alright Foggy, a night to remember,” Matt smirked, sensing Foggy’s grin growing wider. 

“That’s the spirit.” Foggy slapped Matt on the shoulder and brought him in for a side hug. The two of them laughed as Foggy narrowly missed walking straight into a street lamp. 

“Now, Matt.” Foggy stepped in front of Matt and placed his hands on Matt’s shoulders. “I want you to find a girl and let out some steam. You’re too stress-addicted for your own good.”

“Foggy…” Matt began before Foggy shushed him. 

“No, listen to me Murdock,” a smile grew on Foggy’s face. “You’re gonna have fun tonight. Promise  me.” Foggy stuck out his pinky finger to Matt. 

“I promise Fog,” Matt said. Foggy smiled and grabbed Matt’s hand. His pinky finger pinched Matt’s and the promise was made. 

It wasn’t long before Matt and Foggy heard the sounds of the party. Music was blaring from the speakers scattered all over the lawn and house. People were laughing, screeching, dancing, chatting, and drunkenly singing. Matt’s nose scrunched up in disgust; those weren’t the only sounds he could hear. Matt could hear the buzzing of the house lights, the heartbeats of a few hundred people crammed into one space, the way the floor thundered and echoed footsteps, the bass of the song, the stickiness of the beer stuck to the bottoms of people’s shoes. His head already began to hurt and he knew it was worse when he’d be in the crowd. He’d smell, feel, hear, and taste everything. How could he not? 

“London Fog! M&M! You made it,” a young man exclaimed. He ran over to Foggy and Matt gave big bear hugs. Matt offered a smile to try and hide his disgust from the man’s smell. Matt could smell his cologne, and traces of a woman’s perfume. He could also smell that the man before him had five cups of an alcoholic mixture: Beer, vodka, and Smirnoff. He could also smell the cigarette he had taken a few hours ago. 

“How’s it been, Bryan?” Foggy asked, his words already slurred as they rolled off his tongue.

“It’s been a fucking riot. Cameron, man…she’s something.” Bryan’s face flushed red. “The dress she’s wearing.”

“I can see,” Foggy noted. “Man, that’s a bright orange.” Foggy opened his eyes wider and then blinked. “Now my eyes hurt. Too many bright colours.” He turned to Matt. “Only Cameron could pull off lime green hair, neon yellow lipstick, and an orange dress.” 

Matt smiled and nodded his head. He remembered Cameron from one of his Spanish classes. She had walked into class the first day, took one look at the board, and just left. He couldn’t recall her coming to a single class yet she had one of the best grades. A chaotic genius to say the least. Before he knew it, Bryan had wrapped an arm around Matt’s shoulder. The other arm was linked around Foggy.  Then Bryan guided the two of them into the party. 

The minute Matt stepped through the door and into the heart of the party, the pounding in his head amplified. Bryan had dragged them to the kitchen and handed him and Foggy a red plastic cup. The alcohol mixture Matt had smelled earlier. Foggy lifted his head back and downed the drink in one go. Matt just took a sip before placing it back down on the counter. 

Foggy had spotted Marci on the dance floor and excused himself. Bryan got dragged by another group and began taking shots in the dining room. Matt, on the other hand, began to swerve his way through the crowd. Everything became muffled and Matt had a hard time differentiating between his senses. He occasionally bumped into party-goers, their alcohol-ridden scent sticking to him. He needed to get out and away from the party. His pace picked up and he manoeuvred through the crowd colliding with more people. Suddenly, he came to a stop. There was a room next to him. It was quieter than the rest of the house and from what he could tell, no one was in there. He fumbled for the doorknob and burst into the room. A bathroom, he soon realized, as he closed the door. He found his way over to the sink and began to wash his hands. He splashed the cold water on his face. His senses finally came back to him and the thick walls of the bathroom tuned out the noise. 

That’s when he heard it. It started out with a heartbeat. He could tell it was young and healthy as it thumped to a graceful melody. Then he heard the rustling of satin on the skin. It sounded so soft as the fabric ran up against the skin. Afterwards, there was a smell. It was so sweet, the smell of rain and lavender that was not too overpowering. It reminded him of Hell’s Kitchen in the spring when the church would grow lavender in the community garden. The smell carried through the air and Matt froze. The water from the sink was still running. He wasn’t the only one in the bathroom. 

___________

“Umm,” the voice mumbled. He tilted his head in the direction of the sound. It came from a young woman. “Hello.” She said. 

Matt turned around. His cane and glasses were fully on show. “Hello?” He responded. His head moved side to side. He already knew where she was, but she didn’t know that. 

“Oh, you’re…”

He smiled softly. “Blind. Yeah.” He shrugged. 

The two of them stood there not knowing what to say. Matt suddenly remembered where they were. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize…” he began to apologize. 

“You’re fine. I was just stepping away from the party for a moment. I was just about to go back out.” She motioned to the door before realizing Matt couldn’t actually see her. Her head smacked her forehead. “I just pointed to the door…I’m gonna go,” she mumbled. 

As she walked past Matt he noticed the absence of alcohol. She hadn’t drunk anything and the sound of her heartbeat made Matt think that she didn’t want to rejoin the party anytime soon. Matt reached out to stop her. 

“You don’t have to go. I’m just taking a breather like you.” 

She turned around and smiled at him softly. “No, it’s alright. Plus, I’m sure my friend is wondering where I am right now.” She turned away and turned the doorknob. Only that it didn’t turn. Instead, the knob detached from the door, clattering against the stone tile of the bathroom floor. 

“Fuck,” cursed the woman. 

Matt moved his head in her direction. “What happened? I heard something bang against the floor.”

“Uh…” the woman faltered as she bent down to grab the door knob. She picked it up, walked over to Matt, and placed it in his hand. Her fingers brushed against his hand and Matt felt as if his hand was afire. He ran his hands over the cool door knob and then sighed. He smiled to himself at the gesture. 

“Yeah, the door knob fell off. Which is just great.” She muttered. Her voice grew tight and nervous. 

Matt placed the door knob down and then remembered the water in the sink was still running. He quickly turned it off and tried to offer the woman some words of comfort. “I’m sure someone will come looking. Right? You said your friend was…”

“I lied. She’s busy with some guy and drunk off her ass. She wouldn’t be able to help us. You?”

Matt shook his head. The woman sighed. “My friend was already wasted when we got to the party.”

The woman groaned and slid to the floor. She tucked her knees in close. “Perfect. I’m gonna miss my flight tomorrow,” she muttered under her breath clearly so Matt wouldn’t hear, but he did. 

“I’m sure everything will be alright.” He crouched down to the floor and leaned up against the sink cabinets. 

The woman’s heartbeat continued to beat faster and Matt was sure she’d die of a heart attack if he didn’t find some way to calm her down. 

“I’m Matt,” he blurted out. He felt his face heat up as the woman replied back. 

“Y/N.” 

“What year are you?” He found himself asking. 

“Huh?” Y/N replied. 

Matt cleared his throat. “What year of school are you in?”

“Oh,” Y/N said, “I’m not a student. Just a friend visiting a friend for a bit.”

Matt tilted his head at the words. “You don’t go to Columbia?” 

“Nope,” Y/N muttered. 

“Then why are you here at an end-of-year frat party?” Matt asked with a teasing tone. He could already hear her heartbeat returning back to its tranquil melody. 

“Funny story, actually.” She chuckled.

“I have time.” Matt smiled. He flashed his signature grin. The one that had girls fawning over him. 

Y/N blushed at his smile and began her story. She told Matt how a few months ago she auditioned for the Danish Royal Ballet company. They had gotten back to her saying they wanted her to join them. It was a dream come true for her. Matt intently listened to her love for dancing and how she immediately accepted. Instead of college, she chose to dance and now as of tomorrow afternoon, she’d be flying to Copenhagen. When she broke the news to her family and friends, they all demanded to have her visit. One of which had been her childhood best friend, Cameron. Matt chuckled and told her he knew Cameron. They shared a few laughs about the funny memories Matt and Y/N had of the young and chaotic woman. 

“So now you’re visiting Cameron,” Matt repeated. 

Y/N nodded. “Yep, she’s the last one that I was going to visit before flying to Denmark.” 

Matt had extended his legs out. His feet occasionally grazed and bumped into Y/N’s feet. Every time they did, he’d fight the blush that tried to appear on his face. 

“For a last hurrah, Cameron suggested–dragged me to this party. To be honest, I don’t like parties that much. It’s too loud, there are harsh lights, and the smells are just…”

“It’s overwhelming.” Matt finished. He knew the exact feeling. 

“Yeah.” Y/N’s voice grew quiet. “Now, your turn Matt. What’s your story and how’d you end up locked in a bathroom with me?” Y/N jokingly asked. 

Matt let out a laugh. Y/N smiled and giggle along. Matt felt a wave of relief fall over him. It had been a while since he really laughed like that: tears formed in the corner of his eyes, his breath cut short, and he clutched his chest. 

“My story’s not as…” Matt closed his eyes thinking of the right word, “interesting as yours.”

“That’s alright,” Y/N smiled, “I happen to like mundane stories. Besides, I have time.”

Matt smirked at the familiar phrase he muttered before, which now fell from her lips. He opened his mouth to tell his story when he heard the shuffling of the dress Y/N was wearing. With a huff, she stood up from her seat and strolled over to Matt. She plopped down next to him. Their legs brushed against each other. Matt couldn’t help but flash a smile in her direction. His eyes concealed by his red-tinted glasses fell just below the woman’s chin. 

“Did you just…” he chuckled.

As if she knew what he was asking, Y/N replied. “I can hear you better this way. You know, the party is quite loud.”

Now their legs were lying against each other. No longer shy, Y/N found herself scooting closer to Matt. Her hand snaked underneath his arm and then held it close. His hand playing with hers.

Matt just smiled. The blush on his face was now a similar shade to the scarlet lens that adorned his face.

“Sure, sweetheart.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Anyways, I’m a law student here at Columbia. Before that I grew up in Hell’s Kitchen,” Matt told Y/N.

She rested her head against his shoulder causing Matt to pause his story. He took a moment to calm his thundering heart. When Matt began his story. He was planning on just sticking to his college years. His childhood was a tangle of sombre memories: the accident, his dad, and Stick. But his lips betrayed him and Matt found himself telling Y/N about his dad and growing up at the orphanage. A story he didn’t divulge to just anyone. But Y/N wasn’t anyone. She was the woman who was locked in the bathroom with him. The ballerina who’d be flying across the world tomorrow. She was the woman whose heartbeat was helping distract him from the chaos outside the bathroom door. She was Y/N. He’d only known her for a few hours, but Matt couldn’t help but think he’d known her his whole life. An idea that Matt cringed at. This wasn’t him. He was a flirt and a playboy, but for the woman in the bathroom, he’d be anything. 

Soon, Matt was talking about the accident. The struggles of having your entire world stripped away in an instant. A good deed that was rewarded with eternal darkness. He told her about Nelson and Murdock, the law firm he was going to start with Foggy.

Together the two of them sat on the bathroom floor, sharing their lives and souls with one another. As Matt talked, Y/N listened. She rubbed his hand when he felt his throat clench. She just listened and Matt felt safe. He had no clue why, but he felt safe. Y/N was safe. In their tiny enclosure of a bathroom in a frat house, the two of them felt safe. 

___________

The safety that the bathroom provided the two of them shattered at the sound of a hard object that collided with the window in the room. Matt and Y/N jumped to their feet at the sudden bang. Y/N’s grip on Matt’s arm got tighter before she let go. His side was now freezing cold without her warmth. He tilted his head to listen to her as she trod carefully over to the window. Her body froze and her heart had a quick uptake.

“Everything alright?” Matt asked in concern. He took a step forward before he heard her shuffle forward and then came a loud creaking sound. 

Y/N’s smile turned upward as she looked out the open window. A cheer left her lips.

“Ah ha! Fuck yeah.” 

Matt’s ears perked up. “What?”

“Why didn’t I think of this before?” Y/N scolded herself.

Matt chuckled. “Mind telling me what your amazing discovery is?”

“The window.” 

“The window?”

“We can get out through the window. We’re on the first floor. It’s a bit of a jump, but we can get out!”

Matt’s face fell. “Oh, that’s great.” He smiled again when she looked back at him. A part of him wanted to stay in the bathroom forever. Just him and her. Matt and Y/N.

Her feet hit the ground and she walked back over to Matt. Her soft hands reached out and guided him over to the window. She lifted his hand up and to the window ledge. 

“Do you think you can get up?” She asked.

Matt turned to her and smiled. “Of course, sweetheart. I’m a big boy.”

Y/N’s face flushed bright red at the comment. She was happy that he couldn’t see her right now. Matt knowingly smiled at her blush. He knew full well the effect his words had on her. Matt handed her his cane which she took and held close. Her free hand held out to help him up. Then he pulled himself up onto the ledge and swung his legs around. His knees bent the minute the tips of his feet hit solid ground. Standing up straight he turned around to the sound of Y/N following him out the window. With a yelp, Matt stuck out his hand to hold her steady as she braced herself from the jump. She muttered a quick thanks before dusting her dress off and handing Matt back his cane. She felt like a teenager sneaking out of her house. 

The two of them stood underneath the window, unsure of what to do. Inside the house, the party was raging on. Matt could hear the numerous beverages being poured, the music tuned up louder, and people’s clothes grinding against one another. The more his senses took notice of it all, the more he just wanted to get out of there. He wanted to leave the party behind, take Y/N with him and enjoy the rest of the night. 

It seemed as if Y/N was thinking the same thing. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Matt asked at the same time Y/N suggested that they leave. The two of them smiled at their synchronization of thoughts. 

“Where are you staying?” He wondered. He took a step in her direction. 

“At Cameron’s, in the dorms.” She replied. 

“Perfect,” Matt whispered. “We’re in the same building then.” He extended out his arm to Y/N and smiled. It was more for his benefit than hers. He wanted to hold her close, closer than they had been, sitting in the bathroom, a few moments earlier. There was something about Y/N that intoxicated him. Her scent, the sound of her heartbeat, the way she smiled at his attempts at flirting, all were like a drug that Matt could never get enough of. His face dropped slightly remembering that she was leaving tomorrow morning. She didn’t live here and wasn’t a student at Columbia. There was a part of him that wished she was. A part of him wished he could wake up tomorrow and be around her again–hear her heartbeat, feel her smile, smell her faint perfume, hold her close, but that wasn’t so. For now, Matt would settle on the now, making most of the time he had left and maybe if he’d play his cards right, he’d get to kiss her. 

“Mind if I walk you back?” 

Matt heard the young woman next to him stifle a giggle before linking her arm with his. She leaned into him, her calming scent washing over him. “I don’t see why not.” 

___________

The walk back to the dorms was long, Y/N noted. Matt had chosen to take her the scenic route not that she minded. She enjoyed the walk back. The two of them chatted about life and never seemed to run out of things to talk about. She cherished the way Matt offered his jacket the minute a chill crept up her spine from the cold night. Matt loved the way Y/N pulled him a little bit closer the longer they walked. His warmth seeped into her side. To others who passed them by, it seemed as if Matt and Y/N were one person, walking so close they shared the same breaths, their hearts beating in sync. 

Matt’s pace slowed as the familiar scents and sounds of the dorms swarmed his senses. He felt his hand hold Y/N a little bit tighter, pulling her back to walk at his sloth-like pace. Eventually, his feet betrayed him and he found himself entering the doors of the building. Then the elevator. Then the hallway where Cameron’s dorm was located. Then just outside the dorm. 

Matt sighed softly at the loss of Y/N by his side. She had turned away from him and opened the door to Cameron’s dorm. Her back facing him. Her hand was still on the doorknob. Matt’s breath got heavy as he heard how fast Y/N’s heart was beating. She was waiting for something. 

Suddenly she turned around and gasped slightly at the proximity she had to Matt. Matt smiled at the sound. Her scent now filled his nose. His senses were only focused on her. Her heartbeat, the sound of her breath, the way her hand ran against her dress in an attempt to soothe her nerves, the blood rushing to her cheeks, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Her lips. Matt could tell they’d be soft. He wondered how’d they’d taste and how’d they’d feel against his. 

Matt couldn’t stand it any longer. The two of them had been dancing around all evening. The hand of the clock was moving closer and closer to her departure time. He reached up a hand to cup her cheek, the other tickled her neck, coming to rest just above her heartbeat. Matt leaned in, but she stopped him. Her hand was firm on his chest. 

“I can’t.” She whispered. 

Matt frowned and pulled away. Was he reading this all wrong?

“Matt,” Y/N reached out. She pulled him back to her. 

“I have this policy.” She explained. Matt found his hands finding a place at her waist. His grip was solid. 

“A policy?” Matt asked. His brows raised. 

“I…,” She shook her head. “I don’t kiss and say goodbye.” Her voice got quiet and if it wasn’t for Matt’s hyper-hearing, he was sure he would have missed it. 

He smiled softly he opened his mouth to reply, but Y/N continued on.

“I leave tomorrow morning and I don’t know if I’ll ever be back in New York. Hell, I don’t even know if I’ll be back in the States for that matter.” Matt felt her head fall against his chest. 

“But,” she said softly, “If I ever find you again in the future. If our paths somehow cross–like I need a defence lawyer,”

“Why? Do you plan on getting in trouble anytime soon,” Matt jokingly commented. 

 Y/N chuckled. The nervousness in her muscles relaxed. 

“Or if my ballet company tours or something like that,” She continued. She lifted her head off of Matt’s chest and cupped his face in her hands. She leaned in close and brushed her nose against his. “If you aren’t taken and vise-versa, if we remember each other, remember this…”

“That’s a lot of ifs,” Matt whispered. His nose nudging hers. 

“I know, but if destiny, fate, whatever is on our side, then I promise to give you a kiss.”

Matt’s ears perked up at those words. 

“I’ll give you a kiss. A real kiss,” She repeated. 

Matt laughed. “A real kiss?”

He felt her smile. “Yeah, not some peck on the cheek bullshit. A real kiss like how they do it in the movies.” 

“Okay,” Matt said. He wished as he held her close, that he could say something poetic and what not but words failed him. 

It was Y/N who pulled back first. Her hands fell from Matt’s face, and she stepped out of his hold. She turned away and whispered goodbye before closing the door to Cameron’s room. Matt sighed and stood outside her door taking in the promise she had made him. Forcing his mind to commit every last detail about her to memory. He’d be damned if he’d ever forget such a wonderful woman–Y/N. 

Finally, he stepped away and walked down the hall back to the elevators. He had only made it a few steps before the door flung open and Y/N rushed out. She ran to Matt. He turned around to meet her when he felt a warmth on his cheek. She had kissed him. Kissed his cheek. 

“There,” She stated. “A little something to mark the promise.” 

Matt smiled and reached out to her, his hand grasping her forearm. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. His lips a promise to find her. A promise to never forget. He lingered close to her. His soft lips against her flushed cheek. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

“Goodnight, Matt,” Y/N whispered sweetly. “Find me in the future.” 

_________

It was 3.26 in the morning when Foggy stumbled into the dorm. His drunken figure ran into the walls and tripped over shoes laid out across the floor. The noise from his entrance would have woken Matt from his slumber. However, Matt was awake. His sightless eyes gazed up at the ceiling. His mind was in a trace with a prayer on loop. 

“Fuck, sorry Matt.” Foggy apologized. His voice was hoarse from the long night of alcohol and impromptu karaoke. 

Matt turned on his side. “It’s alright, Foggy.” 

“So…” Foggy began as he marched to the bathroom and hastily brushed his teeth clean. The bottle of tooth past lay untouched next to the sink. “Was it a night to remember?”

Matt couldn’t hide the large and bright smile that appeared on his face. Matt’s mind flashed with the memories from the evening, distracting him from answering Foggy’s question. Puzzled by his friend’s silence, Foggy stepped out of the bathroom. A toothbrush stuck in his mouth, and hands on his hips. 

“You didn’t…” Foggy exclaimed the words sounding mushed with the toothbrush in his mouth. He quickly took out the toothbrush and discarded it on the side of the sink. “Who is she?” 

Matt sat up and looked in Foggy’s direction. The pungent smell of the party that followed Foggy didn’t bother Matt as he thought about the woman of the evening. Part of him wanted to keep the events of tonight a secret. He wanted to keep Y/N–the memory of her to himself. However, Matt’s mouth opened up and betrayed the inner thoughts of his mind, and he told Foggy everything. He told Foggy about being locked in the bathroom. The way she sat down next to him. Her leg brushed against his. He told Foggy about how he could have talked to the woman for hours and that he had told her so much about him some of which Foggy had never known. The smell of her perfume, and the sound of her voice and when she laughed. Matt smiled as he relayed their escape from the bathroom and the way she held on to him the walk back drawing him closer as the cold night went on. Matt told Foggy of his reluctance to let her go, and how he wished she were a student here. That he could be with her again and again, but that it couldn’t be. Later today, she’d be on a plane far away from New York. Far away from Matt. 

The room grew silent, and Matt just sat on his bed. Unsure of the thoughts and feelings dancing around his head. 

“What is it?” Foggy asked. He got the sense that there was something more to Matt’s mysterious woman of the evening. “A ground-breaking kiss? Mind-blowing sex?”

Matt just shook his head. Foggy gasped. 

“I kissed her cheek,” Matt replied. He had said it as if it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. A tiny kiss on the cheek. A kiss she had ran after him for. 

Foggy feined dramatically. “A. Kiss. On. the. Cheek.” 

“No, Fog…” Matt began. His head shook at Foggy’s statement. “We made a promise.”

Foggy stopped his dramatic acting and hopped on his bed. “A promise?” He repeated sceptically. This was his friend, Matthew Murdock, the campus playboy and heartthrob, and here he was a complete sap over a girl he had only met a few hours before. It didn’t possible to Foggy.

“If we find each other in the future, remember this night, the promise, then she’d give me a real kiss.”

“A real kiss?” Foggy chuckled. 

“Like one of those in the movies.”

Foggy’s eyes narrowed at Matt. “She’s your Cinderella,” he blurted. 

“My what?”

“Your Cinderella. The promise, AKA the shoe. The party tonight, the ball. Love at first sight You get my gist.”

“I’m not in love with her Fog it’s just…”

Foggy rolled his eyes. “She’s your Cinderella,” Foggy stated firmly. “You’re a complete sap over a woman you’ve only known for a few hours. Therefore, CINDERELLA.”

Matt smiled. “My Cinderella,” he repeated to himself.

“Now, you just need to go all Prince Charming and scour the kingdom for her,” Foggy mumbled as he fell back in his bed and snuggled into his blankets. 

Matt smiled at the thought and laid back down. His eyes raised up once again to the ceiling. Y/N, he thought. Matt felt like a sinner as the most beautiful sound he had ever heard left his lips–her name. He said it over and over again. A silent prayer to God that he’d meet her again in the future. He’d find his Cinderella and claim his kiss. He’d remember her: her scent, the melody of her heart, the touch of her skin and her lips, everything. Soon Matt felt his eyelids fall closed as midnight dreams overtook him. All he could think about was her. Y/N. He’d find her he just knew it.  

__________

Tag list: @bartokthealbinobat

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

_________

[cellophaine]

hey! I absolutely love your series lingered affections, I was wondering if you could write something about meating Matt in college; then confessing love for each other. Maybe something dramatic;) Love you work!!<3

I Get Along Without You Very Well

Pairing: College!Matt Murdock x Reader (main focus), College!Matt Murdock x College!Elektra Natchios

Warnings: Very light angst. Reader is lowkey emotionally detached. Matt is lowkey clueless. Time jumps.

Author's Note: I'm very very sorry for the wait! 😭 I hope this would be worth it (?). If not, I really am sorry ��

As always, any likes, comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! <3

GIF is not mine

You slumped in the uncomfortable seat, your hand absent-mindedly tapping on the smooth surface of the desk before you. All you wanted was for the class to begin already so it could end faster, which meant you could go back to your dorm and take a fat nap until your friend woke you up for a $5 greasy pizza slice in Harlem. You would argue with her that $5 was too much for a piece, to which she would reply that it was big enough to make the fattest rat in New York hesitate, to which you would counter going all the way to Harlem for a slice of pizza is ridiculous, to which she would deadpan "you're just lazy" which would be true to some extends. You couldn't bother going out on a Friday night after a brutal first week at Columbia. Who knew studying law would be this hard?

You were lost in the fast-forwarding of your night until someone cleared their throat somewhere behind you.

"I'm sorry, is this History and Philosophy of Law class?"

You lifted your gaze towards the giant blackboard at the end of the room, decorated with equally large and flowery letters that said: "Welcome to History and Philosophy of Law!" As if those little rays of sunshine drawn around the course's name magically made the class more interesting, you thought. 

"... yeah. It's pretty obvious, don't you think?"

You turned in your seat, craning your head up to the source of the voice. The rest of your sentence died down to a whisper like water escaping through the drain in a quiet whoosh. You took in the rectangle glass and the more obvious indication of why he could not see the board, a white cane with a red accent at the end.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. What is obvious?"

You diverted your lingering gaze away from the adorable side part of his hair and the innocent smile accompanying his clueless expression. You shook your head before letting out a sigh, resuming your position as before. Just a little straighter. 

"Never mind. I was being stupid."

You went back to examining the blackboard when he spoke up again.

"Can I sit here with you?"

He pointed to the seat beside you. You shrugged nonchalantly. 

"Yeah, go ahead. Feel free to practice your constitutional right."

That earned a lighthearted chuckle from him, and you found yourself … not disliking the sound. He felt around for the desk next to yours, and you sneaked a glance at him every so often. After settling in, he turned to you, extending a hand with a friendly smile.

"My name is Matt Murdock."

You let out a soft hum in response, making no move to shake his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Matthew."

His lips flattened in a way you knew was a mix of amusement and faux displeasure.

"It's Matt. What's your name?"

You exhaled softly through your nose, mildly vexed at this stranger's attempt at making small talk with you, or worse, getting to know you. The thought made you shudder. You offered him an evasive answer instead.

"None of your business."

"Nice to meet you, None-of-your-business."

You snorted, too loud for the echo of the classroom, which drew some stares toward the pair of you. You didn't expect him to sass you back, especially in such a prompt manner. You bit back a laugh as the professor asked for everyone's attention and introduced herself. You glanced at him again to see a dopey smile on his face mirroring your own, making him look even more adorable than the side part of his hair. Your heart did a stupid, fluttering thing then. 

After that day, Matt became an unexpected addition to your life. You sat together for every class you shared, and to which the two of you found out later that it was all of them, even the Spanish course. He introduced you to his roommate Foggy, widening your friend circle even though you had no desire to do so. Matt gradually coaxed you out of your shell, and before you knew it, you were hanging out with the duo every week with an occasional drop-in from your friend. You spent many late nights with Matt, with early cups of coffee and catching up meals in between. You took care of each other, which was something that came naturally. At first, you thought it was purely transactional. You did it because you didn't want to owe him a favour. But you slowly came to a realization that Matt did it for anyone he cared about. This tangible string between you became an iron thread, blurring the border between platonic admiration and all-consuming infatuation. You harboured a crush, and it was a little too late when your stubborn self came to accept that. 

Elektra's appearance in Matt's life was like the last nail to your coffin of unrequited feelings. She was a mysterious force, pulling Matt with her. Study sessions were mostly you and Foggy cooping up in the library, and you rarely saw Matt these days. You told Foggy something you never told anyone in one of those hangouts when it was only the two of you. Little did you know, it only tangled the delicate web of sorrow that cast over your fate and Matt's.

It would appear that all it took was lots of alcohol and a convincing argument from Foggy at an end-of-semester celebration for you to drunkenly walked down the hall to Matt's dorm at two in the morning. They haven't made it official, Foggy said with so much conviction. Before going in, he gave you two thumbs up with a grin so bright it made his eyes squint shut. With your cheerleader just outside the door, you gathered courage, walking to his door with little stumbling, as you so proudly recalled. You composed a speech in your head, practicing with a barely-there whisper in the quiet hall. Most students had gone home for Christmas, with some exceptions. 

Before his door, you took a deep breath, knocking with less assurance than you would have liked. He couldn't tell how nervous you were by the way you knocked, could he? All of your wandering thoughts evaporated as Matt opened the door, a flustered look on his face. He didn't have his glasses on, and it allowed you to look at his unsighted eyes. They were focused on a point on your shoulder; the usual vivid hazel was darkened in the dimly lit hallway. The light was off in his room, making you feel even more guilty about disturbing his peace.

His voice called out to you with husky touch to his undertone. Was it sleep? Was it something else?

"What are you doing here? It's very late. Are you okay?"

You adored the way his confusion turned into concern for you in the same breath. 

"Oh! Uhm, yes, I'm fine, as fine as I can be. In my tip-top conditions."

You laughed nervously, internally cringing at your rambling. But you couldn't help yourself.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up. I know that it's late–"

"–that's okay. I was just–"

"–but I just want to tell you something."

You spoke simultaneously; words bounced off each other, woven in a jumble of sound with the message lost in between. You chuckled nervously, and Matt followed.

"Of course. What do you want to tell me?"

You took a deep breath, willing your voice to stay steady.

"I–"

"Matthew, who is it?"

Elektra's unmistakable silky voice rang out from the inside, making the confession die on the tip of your tongue. You forced yourself to swallow it down, burying the words of love with the haste of your shovel with each painful thud in your heart. The thumps in your chest felt like they rattled your ribcage, turning everything else into a soft blur. You blinked back the tears that welled along the rims of your eyes. Like a glass full, you were afraid you would spill and break in front of him. The least you could do was allow yourself the dignity from a faux composure.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

Matt turned his sightless yet curious gaze to you, imploring you to continue. You shaped your lips into a forced smile, hoping it could mask your devastation.

"I just want to wish you a good night. And that I'll see you in class."

He stayed silent; the slight waver in your voice didn't convince him. You knew that because you knew him,

"Are you okay?"

The tenderness of his voice and the way he gently called your name caressed your fragile mind.

"Yeah, yes, I'm fine. I should get out of your hair."

Matt held his hands up, motioning you to wait for him. He went to take his coat off the hook on the wall, speaking out to you.

"I'll take you back to your dorm. You shouldn't be out by yourself this … late." 

By the time he got to the door, you were already walking down the hall with the phantom of Matt's voice calling out your name close behind. 

The Christmas break provided you with a much-needed space so you could coddle your broken heart. You kept in touch with Foggy, and responded to occasional messages with Matt. You tried to keep the contact with him at a minimum, enough not to arouse any suspicion. The break also gave you enough time to develop a foolproof plan to avoid Matt as much as you could. The second semester went on almost seamlessly with your diligent effort to commit to your plan. You came to class just before the lecture started, choosing a seat far away from Matt, and leaving before he could catch up with you. You found excuses not to hang out, study, or do anything in close quarters with them. While Foggy understood why, Matt didn't. Distancing yourself was the only way you knew how to soothe the ache in your chest every time you were struck with the thought of Matt. You knew your feelings would never be reciprocated. You lost your chance.

However, Foggy remained hopeful.

"I know Matt, and I know that he likes you. A lot."

"If he liked me that much, he wouldn't be with Elektra."

You said with resignation. Foggy stayed quiet, musing in the weight of your admission.

"I'm sorry." 

You shrugged nonchalantly as if your action reflected how you truly felt.

"It is what it is. It was my fault for catching feelings."

You reached over the table, patting Foggy's hand.

"I'll be okay. I will get over it."

You never quite did, especially when Matt unexpectedly ambushed you on the way to your dorm.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

And when you kept your lips shut, refusing to provide him with an honest answer, Matt said with a broken edge to his voice.

"I miss my friend."

With a biting bitterness on your tongue, you spoke softly as if that could lessen the blow.

"I wish I could say the same."

More time passed as the last encounter drew a line between you and Matt. A part of you felt relief since you didn't have to find an excuse not to hang out anymore. Still, the other part of you felt guilty for what happened. You could have kept it together and still got to have him in your life. But, from deep down, you knew that you would rather have all of Matt than just bits and pieces you knew couldn't satisfy the bottomless greed when it came to him.

You carried on with your life without him, feeling the emptiness of the space that belonged to him. You finished the first semester better than you anticipated, waltzing into summer with a lightness to your steps. You took a part-time job at a coffee shop, enjoying what the New York summer had to offer. You went to the bookstores, museums, parks and vintage shops. You spent the summer in a comfortable solitude, and you found yourself enjoying it. You found yourself thinking about Matt all the time; not once did his voice fade in your head as you thought it should.

The second year kicked off, and like the last time, you still avoided Matt. It went on until you went back to your dorm after a long day of classes, only to find a sock on the doorknob. You went to the library after getting a measly cold sandwich from a bodega close by with a water bottle before heading to the library. You walked up the stairs, taking turns to the usual spot you took, finding Matt already sitting there, his hand splayed on the open book. You let out a small "oh shit" before walking backwards straight into the bookshelf, letting out a pained whimper at the sudden impact. Matt's head snapped up with a curious look. He called out your name, and you cursed yourself for not running fast enough.

"Sorry, I'll leave now."

Matt stood up almost immediately; the chair scraped back harshly on the marble floor. 

"No! Please, stay here."

You exhaled nervously, slowly backing up with every word you said. 

"That's alright. I don't think it's a good–"

"Please?"

You yielded at his pleading tone. You cursed yourself for giving in so easily as you sat down, pulling out your textbook.

"Just like the good old days, hm?"

Matt said with a bashful air in his tone and face. That drew a soft smile to your face, and you hummed softly in agreement. You cleared your throat after a few moments of silence. 

"How's– Foggy?"

You had intended to ask about Elektra, but you were too much of a coward. Matt had a quizzical look on his face.

"He's fine. I thought you guys keep in touch? That's what he told me."

"Busted."

A brief silence fell over you. It didn't stay that way for longer than a minute as you went for it.

"How is … Elektra?"

You lifted your head from the textbook as Matt didn't answer your question. A hint of hurt embedded itself onto the furrow of his brows, in the slight tilt of his frown. He must know that you were looking as he cleared his throat.

"We broke up a while ago."

You went still at the news. Matt looked like a kicked puppy at this moment, and all you wanted was to pull him in for a hug.

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It just wasn't meant to be, you know? I thought she was the one, but she ... proved me wrong."

"I'm sorry. Breakups are never easy."

You ended up talking for the whole night, catching up with what you had missed in the other's life. Around 1 AM, you walked to a diner that opened late, ordering yourself some hot chocolate and food to share. When the conversation winded down, you didn't think twice when you reached across the table, placing your hand on top of his.

"I missed you."

Your heart did a stupid, fluttering thing again when Matt turned his palm up, threading his fingers with yours.

"I missed you, too."

Things started to be the way it was again. Yet, there was something different. You got meaningful, somewhat suggestive looks from Foggy, the way Matt seemed to get flustered around you more and more. You blamed it on the awkwardness when you rekindled your friendship. It could take a while for you to be comfortable around each other again. You could deal with that.

On a cloudy night that turned into the pouring rain, you walked Matt back to his dorm after spending some time at the library. You were soaking wet when you reached the building, and the rain only poured down harder. Matt invited you in for shelter. You shivered at the welcoming warmth of the room, taking in the layout. Foggy's side was a little messy, with no sign of him anywhere. Matt promptly informed you that Foggy was out with Marci, and he wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning. Matt gave you a towel, letting you dry off while he rummaged through his drawer to find a change of clothes for the both of you. On the opposite side of the bed, with your backs turned to each other, you put on his sweatshirt, pulling on the sweatpants that were a little too big on you. You subtly took in a deep breath, smiling at the faint smell of his laundry detergent in the soft material. 

Matt sat on the floor by his bed, and after putting on his clothes, you joined him. You fidgetted with the long sleeves; your thigh almost touched his. You could feel the heat his body radiated at this distance, pulling you towards him. But you stayed put.

After a while, Matt whispered into the space between you.

"What happened to us?"

You knew what he was talking about. It was something you thought would come eventually, and you hoped, when it did, you would be prepared for it. 

Still, you thought this was something you could never prepare for. It wasn't a test. It was a gentle demand of the truth, and it wasn't easy even at that. 

"I just felt like there wasn't any place for me in your life anymore. So I thought it was better to take myself out of the picture."

You picked at a fraction of the truth, for it was the easier part. Matt felt for your hand, clasping it between the warmth of his hands.

"You will always have a place in my life. You will always have my time."

You shook your head.

"No, that will not always be the case, and it's okay. There will be a time when I'm just somebody you knew."

You said matter-of-factly. The grasp of Matt's hands on yours tightened as the desperation in his voice convinced you to think otherwise.

"No, don't say that. You're breaking my heart."

You reached out with your hand, smoothing a few strands of his hair away from his forehead. When you pulled back, your fingers were damp with moisture.

"All broken hearts mend at some point, Matt. They don't stay broken forever. I know that all too well."

"What do you mean? Did something happen?"

You sighed deeply, finally feeling the courage you permitted yourself to let go of what you wanted to say to him that night.

"I loved you, Matt, in a way I knew I shouldn't. Then, Elektra came, and I knew I had lost my chance. I tried to get over you, I ... I tried to cope with my broken heart by staying away."

Matt's hand came up to rest on your jawline, angling your face so you could look at him. His voice was a husky, barely-there whisper, spoke with such raw tenderness that made your heart ache.

"Tell me that I'm not too late. Tell me that you still … love me."

You didn't dare to breathe; the air locked in your chest as you searched for the meaning behind his words.

"What are you saying?"

Matt licked his lips, releasing a slow and nervous sigh.

"I have loved you for so long. It's always been you. I was stupid not to realize that out of fear of losing you if you didn't feel the same. So I accepted that I could never have a chance with you."

Emotions rushed through you, making your head spin. You couldn't quite believe what he was saying. You wanted to cry tears of frustration and let your body sag to the floor with your head on Matt's thighs. Pure exhaustion from secrets, lost time, and misunderstanding caught up to you, rendering you silent. But, underneath it all was this blossoming happiness, growing at a dangerous pace. It spread through your body like wildfire, and you didn't want to put it out. You wanted to bask in the heat, in the feeling of being loved by someone you adored.

Matt brought your hand to his lips, pressing a tender and tentative kiss to your knuckles, soliciting the most important thing –

"Please, tell me, am I too late?"

– the key to his heart ever since the day you met. You closed the distance, whispering in between.

"No, you are not."

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[hart269]

Charlie Cox Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Matt Murdock

Series -

Velnias

Oneshots -

His Saving Grace (Earth-65)

A dreary night

A savoury moment

Ready for Work

Partners in Vigilantism / Partners in Life

An Enchanting Voice

As I Perish

Casualties

Irked

You are Evil

Headcanons -

Matt Murdock x teen!vigilante reader (platonic)

.

Tristan Thorn

A Timorous Task

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 7]]

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

Summary:

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

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

When you escaped your parents’ house and moved into the city for college, you already knew the basics of cooking. Since you had turned fourteen, it had been your responsibility to feed yourself. 'You are old enough to figure it out' was what your parents had told you. Living in the dorms didn't give you much opportunity to cook and when you finally had your own kitchen to really play around in, you didn't have the money to afford a full pantry. It was hard, but it never deterred you and you learned a couple of good recipes.

When Minnie came along and you were able to figure out her likes and dislikes, you made a few changes - you could finally afford to get all organic produce and bread not made from ninety percent sawdust and you started cooking even more because your little one didn't like things from a can. 

And despite what the experts and people online say, you give in to every one of Minnie's food whims. You don't want to force her to eat things she doesn't like. Your parents never listened to you, even if the food made you sick - you ate what was given to you or not at all. You are not going to do that to her and the rules you have come up with are she at least has to try something. If she doesn't like it, she doesn't need to eat it, and the past few months she's been pretty good at telling you why she doesn't like something. You don't always understand her reasoning, but you accept and tell her that she can try it again when she's bigger. 

Her favorite thing that you make is lasagna. You make it from scratch and she usually loves to help you and will spend all day excited for ooey-gooey cheese.

Usually.  

Today is not a usual day. Today your daughter is an upset little banshee. As soon as she woke up, she was in a bad mood. She didn't want to be touched at all and getting her dressed was a nightmare. Lots of 'no's and crying about how all her clothes were itchy until you finally allowed her to just wear her swimsuit. It was the only thing you could get her to stay in. You didn't even try with her hair, running your fingers through it to get out some knots, but that only lasted a full five seconds before she was running away from you.

You are trying to be patient with her - you know that something must be upsetting her, whether it be waking up on the wrong side of the bed or she's starting to get a cold and not feeling well. She doesn't know how to express herself beyond crying and you don't blame her. You want to cry when you don't feel well. 

That doesn't mean it isn't stressful for you. The back of your skull is throbbing from her screams and your own mood is sour because you don't know how to help. Hearing her so upset breaks your heart. 

Matt is supposed to come by, thus the homemade dinner, but part of you wonders if you should cancel. Minnie isn't going to calm down anytime soon and you would feel bad having him come over just to witness a tantrum. On the other hand, tantrums are a part of having a child. 

You decide to leave it up to him and send him a text letting him know Minnie is having a bad day. He quickly responds he still wants to come, so you return to working on your tomato sauce as quietly as you can.

Mouse has hidden herself under a throw blanket with her tablet and her plushies on the couch. You don't worry about her doing anything she shouldn't be - the tablet is child locked to hell and back - but it is a little hard to tell what she is doing since she's muted the tablet. There is an eerie purple glow coming from under the blanket, so you can guess she's playing one of her games. You've found a few that don't require sound that she enjoys - a few dress up games and matching things. 

Occasionally you hear her sniffle or mumble but she doesn't call for you, so you let her be. She didn't really nap today, so you're trying to avoid another meltdown. You are hoping when you remind her Matt is coming, it will help her mood. You're a little jealous he is obviously her new favorite person, but also you are so happy for it. 

Your original idea of taking things slow has been adjusted based on her reaction. You wanted to start talking to her about family today and build her up to the idea of having a dad, then have Matt over so she starts that association. That obviously is not going to happen. 

You finish up your prep and start to assemble the lasagna, laying sheets of pasta down before adding sauce and cheese then repeating the process until the pan is full. You made a little extra, with the intention of sending Matt home with leftovers. He had mentioned in passing that he doesn't get to cook much and living off take out is not ideal. 

The baking pan gets put into the oven and the timer is set, then you aren't sure what to do with yourself. It will take about an hour and Matt is scheduled to arrive then. 

You could do some cleaning, but with how Minnie is, you don't want to set her off. You know when she gets like this, any little thing can trigger her, so the best you can come up with is scrolling your phone. 

Still, you want to be with your baby, so you make your way to the couch. You keep your voice just above a whisper, knowing she's been itching at her ears all day, "Mouse, can I sit with you on the couch?"

You know she heard you based on the way the blanket moves. It takes a moment before you hear a tiny 'okay'.

You tuck yourself into the opposite corner and take out your phone to bring up something to look at. As soon as you start scrolling your feed, the glowing blanket mound starts moving towards you and you are easily overtaken by it. Minnie gets herself into your lap, still hidden away, then flops against your chest. You can feel her tablet against your thigh and you're pretty sure Scooby is jammed into your stomach, but as long as she's good, you're good. 

You keep an eye on the time as you flick through your phone. A majority of the news sites you follow are filling your feed with stories about the explosion in Connecticut. An uneasiness fills your stomach when you see the word 'attack' being thrown around. The headlines say they have determined the destruction was intentional and not an accident, though no one has claimed responsibility. Tony Stark gave some sort of press conference, so his face is all over your phone. 

You don't need this today, so you switch over to browsing some online shops. Minnie is getting too big for her winter coat, so you definitely need to get her one before the weather changes and prices go up. You'll have to get her approval before you make a final purchase, but it's good to check what is in the market. 

About twenty minutes before you are due to take the lasagna out of the oven, Matt texts you to let you know he is on his way. You confirm that you got his message, then gently run a hand over the mound in your lap, "Hey, sweetie. Dinner is almost ready. Do you remember what I said about dinner tonight?"

The blanket gets tugged and moved until Minnie can poke just the top of her head out. She squints at you, like she is judging you, before mumbling out, "Mister Matt is coming?"

You give her a soft smile, trying to comfort her in any way you can, "That's right, baby, Mister Matt is going to come over and have dinner with us."

She squirms in your lap, before flopping herself forward again and declaring, "I want juice."

"Okay, sweetie." 

You manage to gather her, her blanket, her tablet, and some plushies into your arms and get Minnie on your hip to carry her to the kitchen. You're an expert at doing things one handed and it only takes you a minute to make up a sippy cup. Once that is in her little hands, you deposit her into her seat at the dining table. You let her keep her blanket and toys, setting up Scooby and Pig so they are in the seat next to her and her tablet is on the table in front of her. 

She is indeed playing a dress up game and as she nurses her juice, she looks at each dress option for the character she's dressing. As she does that, you start to set the table around her. You can tell that despite the cuddles and quiet, your Mouse is still in a grumpy mood. You really, really hope that Matt will help her smile a little. 

Once everything is set, you check on the lasagna. It smells and looks delicious to you, and you take the sheet tray out a little early so it can start to cool. That gets Minnie's attention, and you can see her watching you out of the corner of your eye. She's stuck her fingers in her mouth, sucking on them as her eyes follow you around the kitchen.

You are so busy watching Mouse watch you, you don't keep track of the time and when there is a soft knock at the front door, you jump. 

You scurry to answer, putting your hand over your heart and telling yourself to chill out. You know who it is and why they are here, and you don't need to panic over it. It's just Matt, you tell yourself.

It's just Matt. 

You open the door and your breath catches. 

It is just Matt, but Matt is Matt, and he makes your heart pound in a different way. 

He's come right from work, so he's in one of his crisp, fitted suits. His hair is fluffed up, like he's run his fingers through it too many times, and he's got that permanent five o'clock shadow. He looks like some GQ model, standing in your doorway. 

Embarrassment runs through you. You're not nearly as dressed up as he is. Even on his casual days, he looks so fashionable and cool, and you are wearing biker shorts and a black T-shirt. You look by no means raggedy, but maybe you should have changed. Just because Matt can't see what you are wearing doesn't mean you can be a slob. 

"Hi," you eventually choke out and Matt's face lights up. 

"Hey there," he says back, then he's holding up a bottle of wine and smiling so sweetly, "I thought I'd try contributing this time and I figured you might need a glass." 

You can't help but flush. Today has been rather long and a glass of wine sounds amazing. You don't drink often, but he is right and a glass to unwind sounds perfect. 

"You're a saint," you praise, and step aside so he can come in. "How was your day? Oh, you can put your jacket and bag to your left. There's hooks about chest level." 

Matt thanks you, then reaches out to feel the wall. He finds the hooks quickly, then hangs his saddle bag before starting to remove his coat, "it was good. We were able to wrap up a few smaller cases - sometimes it just takes someone getting a lawyer for others to cave and do the right thing. Cheaper to just do the right thing than get sued and having to do it anyways, plus all the pay outs and fees."

"That is good," you hum, very much meaning it. You're glad those people got the help they needed. "You mentioned having a handful of cases, so that frees up your plate a little bit, right?"

Matt laughs a little, smile still wide, "A little bit. It's a nice change of things - we aren't hurting for paying clients, so we are going to try to take on a few more pro-bono things. We're getting into a nice groove - or so Foggy claims. He's leading that charge - making sure we aren't over working ourselves."

"I'll have to send him a thank you card," you tease, surprising yourself with it. 

"He'd like that, he'd get to lord it over me," he replies. Then he turns to you and steps forward, reaching out and finding your arm. He ghosts his fingers up until he oh-so-gently wraps them around your bicep and steps forward until you're a breath away from each other and you have to look down at his chest, so you are not staring at your own reflection in his glasses. His voice drops to something quiet and intimate, and you can barely hear him through the pounding of your heart in your ears.

"I told them. About you. About Minnie."

You find yourself smiling at the news. That makes it more real, doesn't it? It isn't just the courts acknowledging Matt is Minnie's father - it's the real world. It's Matt wanting her - wanting to show the world he wants his daughter. 

That's all you want. 

You step just a fraction closer, and to keep your balance and let Matt know how close you are, you place your hand in Matt's chest. Almost instantly, his free hand goes to your waist, and you feel steady. 

You bite your bottom lip, then ask, your curiosity so much bigger than your ability to keep your mouth shut, "What did they say?"

He huffs and lightly shakes his head, "After yelling at me for keeping it a secret? They want to meet you, properly. If that is okay. I told them I'd ask you before confirming anything." He hums, then drops his voice even more, "Karen got me magnets so I could hang all the work I got up on my fridge at home." 

"You're going to need a lot of them," you whisper back to him. "I ordered popsicle sticks and puff balls so she can make 3D things." 

"I can't wait. Karen got me a bulk pack of magnets."

You giggle at that, but before you can reply, a needy little voice calls out from the dining table, "Mommy!"

You pull away from Matt, his fingers tracing down from your bicep to your wrist before he drops his hand, and turn to walk towards your daughter, "Yes, Mouse?"

"I'm hungry!" 

She's poked her head out from under the blanket and is now wearing it like a cape and her chubby little cheeks are pulled down into an upset frown. You have a feeling a tantrum may be close - there's nothing worse than a hangry toddler. 

You take a breath, then smile at your daughter, "Okay. Mister Matt is here so we can have dinner now. Do you want to tell him what we are having?"

Matt taps his way into the main living space, and you know you should give him a quick tour, but you think if you delay dinner at all, Minnie is going to start crying, so you tell him instead where the table is. 

Minnie doesn't seem to want to engage, stuffing her fingers back into her mouth. Luckily, Matt isn't dissuaded by that. He sets the wine bottle down before taking the seat across from Minnie. 

"It smells like we're going to have lasagna for dinner. Is that what we are having?" he asks, voice soft and gentle. 

Your little one rocks side to side, keeping her fingers in her mouth before nodding. Normally, you would remind her to use her words, but you don't want to push, so you relay her message to Matt, "She nodded."

Matt hums softly in response. He tilts his head slightly, brows knitting together, before leaning forward just a fraction, "Do you want us to leave you alone until you eat?"

You are surprised by the question then even more surprised when he gets the tiniest, 'yes' in reply. Matt's face softens at that, and he nods to Minnie.

"Okay. Can I still talk to your Mommy, or do you want us to be quiet, too?"

You stand, dish towel in your hands, ready to bring the lasagna to the table, watching your daughter interact with her father. He's being so gentle and understanding with her and you can tell he's being genuine. You can hear the care in his words, how he's giving her choice and not pushing her to talk to him. 

You'll gladly eat dinner in silence if Minnie doesn't want either of you to talk. You don't know how it will work, but you'll try. 

Your little one doesn't answer the question right away. She looks between you and Matt, before pulling her fingers out of her mouth to speak, "You can talk to Mommy."

"Thank you, sweetheart. We'll be quiet, okay?" Matt promises. 

You quickly parrot him, giving your own soft smile, "Thank you, baby. We'll keep it down." 

Minnie snuggles herself tighter into her blanket and you take that as a sign to get yourself into gear. You carefully pick up the lasagna pan and bring it over to the table, setting it as far as possible away from your little one. 

Matt tilts his head towards you, and the food, "That smells delicious. Did you make it yourself?"

You go back to the kitchen to get your serving utensils and answer in the softest voice you can muster that isn't whispering, "Thank you, I did. I found an all organic, from scratch recipe online and have been using it ever since. It's even fancy, way too expensive, cheese. I, uh, made extra. For you to take home, if you want."

Matt licks his lips, and you can tell he's trying to hold back a big smile. It makes your insides turn in a funny way - his kindness and appreciation. You are, as sad as it is, not used to such treatment and for whatever reason that, combined with Minnie's attitude, and Matt being in your apartment for the first time kick starts your anxiety. You are definitely very aware of your heartbeat, and it feels like someone dipped your heart into ice water before it disappears into a hollowness. 

This feeling isn't new to you, so you try to push past it, not let your sudden panic ruin things, because despite your little one's sourness, things are okay. You tell yourself things are okay. 

Your tiny bout of distress goes unnoticed, as it lasts the blink of an eye. Matt leans back in his chair, letting his smile start to crack through, "You didn't have to do that, but I will definitely take you up on it. I can't turn away a home cooked meal."

You force yourself to smile and cut out a slice of lasagna for Matt, before leaning over to place it on his plate, "Guests first."

"Thank you," Matt practically cooes, "I don't think I've been this excited for a dinner in a long time."

The praise does all sorts of things to you, so instead you focus on cutting out a little slice for Minnie and serving it to her. As soon as the food is in front of her, she stabs her fork into it and shovels a piece into her pouty mouth. You don't blame her at all.

"Would you like a glass of wine…?" You ask Matt. Minnie has her sippy juice, but you haven't set out any other drinks. 

He gives you a soft, "Yes, please," and you go to get the two wine glasses you have and a cork screw. You bring them back to the table and set down the glasses before going to open the wine. You haven't done it in such a long time it takes you a minute of struggling to pop it.  Matt turns his head towards you, a little grin on his face until you start pouring. 

You give Matt his drink, then finally make your own plate before sitting beside Matt. Minnie is still angrily stabbing at her dinner and you feel so bad for her. Even with her favorite dinner and good company, she's not having it. You expect when you put her down, either she'll try to fight you or be asleep the moment she touches the covers. You very much hope for the latter. 

Matt, on the other hand, looks completely enthralled with his plate. You can tell his eyes are closed and he's clearly enjoying what he's eating. 

You don't press for conversation - instead reaching for your wine. It's a deep red and delicious on your tongue and you can't remember the last time you've had a good wine. You can feel your shoulders starting to loosen. 

Which of course means, everything needs to come crashing down. 

One moment everything is okay, then the next, Minnie is absolutely screeching. Her face is screwed up in pain and you scramble to get out of your chair to get to her.

"Minnie! What's wrong?!" You try to ask her over her wailing. 

Instead of any sort of answer, she grabs for her fork, which is stabbed into her food, and throws it as hard as she can. You watch in horror as the fork and a large chunk of lasagna still attached to it flies over the table and smacks right into Matt's chest. Panic surges through you as he also bends forward and covers his ears with a distressed face, ignoring the food staining his shirt.

You try to grab Minnie from her booster, but she does not want it and instantly starts to try and fight you, flinging her arms and legs everywhere. 

"Minnie, please," you beg as she kicks you in the hip, "What's wrong, baby?!"

The only reply you get is upset screaming. 

"Cover her ears!" 

Matt is very suddenly beside you and clapping his hands over your baby's ears. She fights it, squirming to get away and smacking at his arms with all her might, but he doesn't budge. You stare, not understanding what is going on, what set her off, and you don't know how to help. 

You don't know how to help and that sinking feeling in your chest is returning and you're scared. 

Matt says your name again, then almost barks at you, "Her headphones! Get her headphones, the strongest ones!" 

You don't understand why but it's something you can help with, something you can do, and you rush to the bedroom and grab her sleeping headband. Minnie has always told you this one works the best, despite the reviews of the others. You run back to the dining area and nearly stumble upon what you see.

Matt has somehow gotten Minnie out of her booster seat and into his arms, and she is octopus clinging to him. Her face is pressed into his neck, one ear on his shoulder, while he keeps his hand clamped over the other. He's lightly bouncing her in his arm as she cries against him and part of you becomes extremely distressed at seeing someone else comfort your child. 

You push that away quickly to hurry forward and hold up the headband, "I've got it." 

Matt nods, then turns his focus back to Minnie. He noses her hair, and you can just barely hear him over her, "It's okay, baby, Mommy has your headband. We're gonna make it quiet. I know it hurts, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry."

You hesitate before stepping towards them. Minnie doesn't flail or pull away as you maneuver the headband and get it over both her ears. It feels so awkward to do as she cries and once it is on her head and over her ears, she reaches up and yanks on it until it is in place. Then she flops back down into the crook of Matt's neck, still crying but somehow not as urgently. 

You are unsure of what to do, but everything in you screams to touch your child, so you shuffle close to Matt until you can put a comforting hand on her back. 

"I'm right here, baby, it's okay," you whisper, gently rubbing a small circle along her spine. 

Matt shifts slightly, and the hand that was covering Minnie's ear drops and he instead wraps it around your waist and pulls you closer, so you are flush against him, with Minnie between the two of you. 

That seems to help with whatever has upset Minnie so much. She stays clinging to Matt while he oh so gently sways you back and forth. Her screeching dies down to tired-upset crying and you know she's going to keep going until she passes out. 

To your absolute amazement, Matt doesn't seem deterred at all. He keeps his nose buried into his daughter's hair, talking quietly to her as she sobs, "It's okay. Shhhh, shhh. Feel my heartbeat, sweetie. Focus on that. The bad noise will stop soon, I promise. Just listen to your Mommy and I." 

You have no idea what he is talking about - what the bad noise is - but it's calming Minnie down, so you let him keep going. You keep your hand on her back, gently doing your own 'shhh'ing, trying to encourage her to calm even more. 

"That's my good girl," Matt hums, before giving her the briefest kiss against her temple. "Do you want to go to Mommy now?" 

You don't hear Minnie respond, but she must in some way because soon enough she is being transferred into your arms. She clings to you loosely and you can feel her little body starting to droop. She must be close to wearing herself out.

She makes a little upset whine between her huffing and puffing, and you instantly take up gently bouncing her like Matt has been doing. Matt stays wrapped around both of you, taking over your role of rubbing Minnie's back. 

You don't know how long you stay there, curled together and soothing Minnie, both of you whispering little words of love and comfort to your daughter. 

You think you are past the worst of it, but of course that isn't the case.

Minnie starts squirming and fussing, reaching up and pressing at her ears over her headband. You look up to Matt, to see his reaction and your heart runs cold and fear spikes in you.

He looks absolutely murderous.

He's lifted his head and it is turned towards your living room, his brows scrunched and a scowl on his lips. You instinctively hug Minnie tight to you, but you quickly realize you have nothing to fear.

He stalks across your living room to your open window and yanks it shut. Right away, Minnie loops her arms back around your neck and settles with a sleepy sniffle. You press your face into her, rocking her a little more.

"I've got you, Mouse. It's okay. Mommy's right here."

You don't jump when Matt's hand brushes along your back and he once again wraps you in his arms. You allow yourself to turn ever so slightly and tuck yourself closer, lowering your head so it leans just barely against his shoulder, with Minnie hidden between your bodies.

You feel safe in that moment. You're confused why Minnie got so upset so suddenly and you're confused at how Matt knew how to handle it, but you feel safe, and even more so when Matt's arms tighten around you. 

"I've got you both," he practically breathes against you. "I won't let anything get you. I'm here now. I've got you." 

You close your eyes as the panic and adrenaline washes away from you and the exhaustion of your day starts to catch up to you. You very much understand how rubbing Minnie's back helps her sleep - Matt's started to drag his fingers up and down your spine and you know it could lull you into Dreamland.

Minnie's cries turn into sniffles and then quickly turn into quiet snores as the minutes pass.

You stay still until you are one hundred percent sure she's gone to the world before pulling back just slightly, and whisper, "I should go lay her down." 

Your face is so close to Matt's you can practically taste his breath and your heart starts to pound at the realization of it. 

You don't know if it is on account of your words or if he was also aware how tangled up the two of you were, but Matt drops his arms and steps away from you, nodding, "Yeah, she sounds pretty sleep now."

You chew your lip, not liking how your arms are suddenly chilly, but don't acknowledge it, "I'll be right back." 

You turn and grab Scooby and Pig, knowing another tantrum will happen if your daughter wakes up alone, and head towards the bedroom. It is surprisingly easy to get her to let go of you and you deposit Minnie into her bed. You place her toys beside her and tuck her in, careful to not jostle her. You dare to kiss her forehead before pulling away. 

As you turn to leave your bedroom, your window catches your eye. It is closed, but in front of it is a little table. 

Just like in your living room. There is a table under the window, with more than a few knick knacks on it. 

Your brow furrows and you return to the main living area. Matt has found his way back to the table and is drinking his glass of wine. 

"Is she good?" He asks, setting down his glass and turning to face you. 

"She didn't wake up at all, I think she's down for the count," you say, glancing towards where your window is before looking back to Matt. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," is his instant reply. You take a moment to look him over, from his fluffy hair, to the tomato sauce now on his shirt, to his fancy loafers, before returning to his handsome face.

"Matt…how did you know where the window is?"

tags list:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium @

two-unbeatable-beaters 

[bellaxgiornata]

Bella's Masterlist of Matt Murdock Fics

Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Series

Falling For the Devil [Installment List]

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

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

All These Years [Installment List]

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

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

Seeking Forgiveness [Installment List]

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

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

The Devil at Your Window [Installment List]

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

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

Break the Tension [Chapter List]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

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

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

Borrowed Time [Installment List]

Warnings/tags: 18+; heavy angst, no happy ending, violence, death DEAD DOVE (possibly more warnings to come)

While walking home after your night shift at Metro-General Hospital, you meet the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen by chance when he saves you. Surprisingly, he continues to escort you on your walks home most nights after your shift ends and you offer him medical assistance in return. Eventually a relationship grows between you both, unexpected but strong. Though everything changes one night on your walk home from work when things don't go as usual.

Keep Coming Back to You [Chapter List]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains smut, angst, horror, multiverse travel, friends to lovers to enemies than back to lovers

Serena McKenna–that was the name you’d given yourself years ago. There was no point going by your real name, not when you’d lost your old life long ago. It’s not like you belonged anywhere, either. Not when you constantly traveled the multiverse–or rather you hid in the multiverse. From them. You’d been on the run ever since they’d learned of your existence, back when you’d been trapped on the hellish world of Nightmare 1, the place you’d spent years perfecting the control over your emotions just to avoid being pulled there against your will again.

Then one day you met him. Matthew Murdock. The only person you’d ever let get close enough to love, and the one who inevitably broke your heart. But for some damn reason you kept finding yourself right back in his path no matter how far you tried to run.

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

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

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

Holding on to You {UPCOMING SERIES}

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

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

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

Jealousy [Installment List]{Coming Soon}

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

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

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

Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader One Shots & Shorts

As Luck Would Have It {Coming Soon} [1] [2]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Warnings/tags: Humor and fluff

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

Acquaintances

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

Right Here, Right Now

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

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

Distracted

Warnings/tags: sweet fluff, hurt/comfort

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

Stop, Just Breathe

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

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

Under the Weather

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

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

Underneath the Mistletoe

Warnings/Tags: Nothing but holiday fluff and first kisses

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

Matt Murdock x OFC Series

Life Worth Living [Chapter List]

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

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

Caught in the Undertow [Chapter List]

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

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

[peterman-spideyparker]

Horses and Zebras (College!Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: I wrote this a bit ago with the intention of having this be smutty, but what I was coming up with just didn’t feel right, so I pivoted and turned it into this. I wanted to use a gif of college Matt but this one popped up, and I will never not use a gif of Tristan Thorn if given the chance and I’m also sorry for the sucky title. It might have a second part, but that’s TBD. Enjoy! :)

Summary: You’re in the medical program at Columbia, but you have some space in your schedule to take an elective, so you opt for a health policy and law class. What you don’t expect is meeting a handsome, blind law student.

Warnings: Fluff, flirting, medical jargon, angst (mentions of death, medical diseases), swearing

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 2,184

“Is this seat taken?” you hear a smooth, deep voice ask to your right as you take out your notebook and pencil case.

“It’s up for grabs,” you say with a smile as you turn to look at the asker. You feel your cheeks burn hot when you see the handsome man with brown hair, navy sweater, and sunglasses standing with a soft smile. He shifts the cane in his hands as he puts his bag down and begins unpacking his things. “I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Matt,” he returns as he settles. “Are you a 2L or a 3L?”

“I’m actually a med student—year and a half left.”

His thick eyebrows scrunch and his lips turn into a confused frown. “They’re letting a med student take a law class?”

“Well, it’s a health law and policy class. I’ve taken some summer courses to get ahead, and my advisor vouched for me. I figured if I’m going to be a doctor, I should try to help them and advocate for them as much as I can. Even if I know a little of it, I hope it would be a big help for some patients.”

“Wow,” he says softly. “You don’t really meet people that think like that.”

“Tell me about it. There’s this guy in my class, right? Stephen. He’s thinks he’s a real hot-shot surgical godsend, when really he’s just an egomaniac that always has to be the one holding the knife.”

“Sounds like a real dick,” he says with a sympathetic pout.

“There’s always people like that in any profession, I guess. Any people like that come to mind in the law program? Or am I talking to one?”

“I guess it depends on who you ask.”

“Mm,” you hum with a little smirk. “Sounds like a yes for the second to me.”

Matt smiles and licks his lips. It looks like he is just about to say something else when the professor walks in with her briefcase.

“Good morning and welcome to Intro to Health Law Advocacy. Now, we will be starting with medical ethics, and from there, segue into medical malpractice—which is slightly askew from the way it’s organized in the book. If you’ll open your textbooks to chapter eight . . .”

“How are you not worried about this exam?” Matt asks, flipping through his notes on his bed, taking off his glasses and putting them to the side, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, so far, I’m already familiar with these things,” you sigh as you turn on the chair at his desk. “We covered them the first or second year of the med program. I really haven’t learned anything new that will help me as a doctor. This class isn’t what I thought it would be, and I’m starting to think that’s why they let a med student take a law class.”

“So, what exactly are you studying right now, then?”

“Advanced abdominal and reproductive anatomy and diseases.”

“Ew,” he grimaces.

“Eh, it’s not bad. Some of my friends and I have done the ‘What’s my disease?’ game with all the symptoms and stuff, it’s just making sure I get these muscles right.” 

“How can I help?”

You lightly scoff. “Matthew, are you trying to get out of studying?”

“I would never,” he says in mock offense, a wry smirk almost immediately pulling at his lips. 

“It’s good you’re practicing your lying now,” you laugh as you move to make a highlight in your notes. “You really wouldn’t want something that bad presented in court.”

“Seriously, though,” he offers after he stops laughing. “I need a bit of a study break, honestly. How can I help you?”

“You could always just sit there and tell me how pretty I am.”

“(Y/N).”

“Matt, I appreciate it, but I don’t know if you can. Unless you want to be a live model, that is.”

“How so?”

You sigh, regretting even having brought it up. “It’s one thing to read it and look at diagrams, but it’s another thing to actually do it on a person.”

“Okay. So,” Matt draws out, putting a tab in his book. “I could lie down, and you’d poke and prod and tell me what you’d feel if I was a patient with one of the things in your book?”

“Yeah, I guess. Would you be comfortable with that?”

Matt nods. “I need a break from these laws—my fingers can’t take it anymore.”

“Alright, then.”

You know to do this, Matt would have to take his shirt off, but you’re not quite prepared for when he does. You can tell that Matt is in shape just by looking at him, but seeing how sculpted he is, the defined dips and curves of his muscles on his taut and smooth skin, you’re not prepared for how your mouth waters. Laying down on the twin bed, he lifts his arms, folding his hands behind his head, resting all nonchalantly with a cocky smirk on his lips.

“You alright there, doctor?” he asks, shifting ever so slightly and making his muscles flex.

“I’m not a doctor yet, Matty,” you tell him, grabbing your notes before you get up.

“You don’t need those.”

“How do you expect me to tell you which uncommon disease that you fictionally have when I poke you in certain places? It’s not like you know the symptoms.”

“You use your memory, sweetheart, that’s how.”

Your cheeks burn hot at the nickname, but it’s enough to convince you to put down your notes. 

“Okay,” you start, moving forward as you retie your ponytail. “Let me start with something easy just to get going. Appendicitis. Appendix becomes inflamed from infection and fills with pus. Pain is caused in the lower right abdomen, usually starting right around here.” You apply light pressure near his belly button on his rock hard abs. How does he have abs this great? “Pain will lessen the pressure is applied, but will get worse when my fingers get removed.” I mimic my motion with my words.

“Ow, it hurts really bad,” Matt adds for effect with a pout, making you giggle. “Doc, you gotta help me.”

“Well, you don’t have a fever,” you play along, feeling his forehead with the back of your hand. “Not nauseous, either. Could just be gas. But, if you do later on, it hurts when you cough, walk, or laugh, and the pain shifts here and your abdomen becomes rigid—,” you continue, moving your fingers lower, “—that’s then we have an issue. An ultrasound will confirm it’s an appendicitis.”

“Easy enough.” Matt’s tone is cool, but the blush on his chest, neck, and cheeks say otherwise. “What’s one of the rarer ones?”

“Well, that’d be something like Hirschsprung’s disease. It’s when there’s a lack of nerve cell bodies in part of the bowel. People are born with it, but it might not develop until later in life. Pain can present anywhere.”

“Well, that doesn’t make diagnosis sound easy.”

“It’s not as common. One of the first things you’re told is to look for horses not zebras; what someone might thinks is uncommon is actually something common presenting differently.”

“Then what happens when it’s actually uncommon?”

“People end up going to multiple doctors,” you sigh. “Or, they realize it’s uncommon when it’s too late. And the sad thing is, it happens—it happens a lot more to female patients than male patients because . . . fuck, I don’t know, people think women are weak.”

“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

“Cuz I am.” You sit down on the edge of the mattress, your shoulders slumping forward as you hang your head. “One of my closest friends in high school, she was so incredibly fit and healthy, but she hadn’t been feeling right. One doctor said it was the flu, a physician’s assistant said it was PMS, another said it might be something carcinogenic. Then one day our senior year when she was at home, she just collapsed. After a week, they figured out it was a neurological disease. It ran in her family, but it hadn’t manifested in anyone. And by the end of that week, she was gone.”

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry,” Matt says softly, sitting up and putting his hand on yours.

“I’m so afraid of turning into one of those doctors,” you breathe quietly. “I don’t want to worry anyone for no reason, to put them through unnecessary tests that insurance might not cover and they might not be able to afford. But I’m so worried that one day, I’m just going to convince myself that one of those zebras is a horse, and then someone else will lose their best friend.”

“We haven’t known each other for long, but I like to think that in the semester I’ve known you, I’ve gotten to know you well. So I know that when you become a doctor, you will treat every one of your patients with respect, kindness, and compassion. You’ll listen to them and their concerns, and do the absolute best to give them the care they need. If you think there’s a zebra in the room, I know you’ll trust your gut and approach it in the right way. It’s not gonna be easy, and it won’t be without its difficult times, but I have every last faith in you and your abilities.”

“I don’t think you know how much that means to me to hear,” you admit, your voice thick with emotion. “You really are going to be a great lawyer, Matt. And I’m not just saying that. A lot of the same nice things you just said about me apply to you, though. You’re kind, compassionate, and you just want to help. There’s nothing more admirable than that.”

You feel electricity move across your skin when he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. Your noses touch before you tilt your heads to the side so they slot better together, your lips millimeters apart before the door to his dorm opens.

“Guess who just got a date with Marci!” Foggy cheers triumphantly as he comes into the room, stuttering to a halt when he registers how you and Matt slide away from one another. “Sorry, I di—.”

“No—,” you start.

“Fog, we—,” Matt says over you.

“I should get going, anyways,” you say as you stand to gather your things. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Matt.”

“I’ll see you,” he says softly. “Text me when you get back to your dorm safe.”

“Will do. Night.”

As soon as you close the door to their room, you can immediately hear Foggy start profusely apologizing.

“Dude, I didn’t know! I’m so sorry—,” he starts.

“Fog, keep your voice down!” Matt hushes him urgently. “She can hear you!”

“She’s probably all the way down the hall at this point. Is that the hot med student you’ve been telling me about?”

“Fog—!”

“Don’t pull that ‘How would I know they’re hot’ shit—you always find the prettiest girls and ensnare them in your Murdock charm.”

You can’t help but giggle as you walk down the hall and start back to your place. So . . . Matt has talked about you to Foggy. You guess you can tick that off of your curiosity list. You wonder what exactly he’s told his best friend about. You’re so lost in thought and reliant on muscle memory that you don’t realize you’re back in your place until you slump your bag off your shoulders and it hits the floor. Pulling out your phone, you lean against the door and begin to text Matt.

“Your hot med student friend is safe in her dorm,” you type, grinning like an idiot as you bite your lip.

It takes him a little bit to respond.

“I’m glad,” he says with a little smiley face emoji. Another text bubbles before it disappears, reappears, and I have a new text on my screen. “I’m sorry for what Foggy said.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“So you did hear it. Eavesdropper ;).”

“I heard enough of it.”

You grow nervous when he doesn’t text back right away. In an effort to shake off the discomfort at the potential crater you might just have carved into your friendship, you change into your pajamas and grab what you need to start studying for you other classes. Just as you get in the right study spot, your phone buzzes to life with a text.

“You’re not mad?” it reads. 

“At you? Impossible.” Your finger hovers over the send button, wondering if it would push the envelope too much for the night, but then you remember the initial text you sent over, getting enough courage to click down on the blue circle with the arrow. “If you need me for anything, I’m just a text away.”

“Good to know. There’s no way I’m making it through this without you.”

Does . . . Does he mean the test? The class? He is too flirty for his own good. But you know one thing for sure: you have a big, fat, undeniable crush on Matt Murdock.

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[grippingbeskar]

strip poker

matt murdock x fem!reader

warnings: explicit content 18+ minors dni (mxf, dirty talk, honestly kind of tame if i’m honest) swearing, gambling?? idk it’s literally the title

a/n: i have been getting a few messages to write more matt so HERE IS ME FULFILLING THAT REQUEST! i’m so glad you guys liked the first one! hope you enjoy! also this gif is how i imagine him looking for the whole first part. fuxk he’s so hot anyways.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. How is that even possible?” You shout, nearly spilling your beer on the already sticky table at Josie’s. You’d been playing poker in the shitty little set up at the back, a bunch of screwed up twenty dollar bills half heartedly thrown in as Matthew Murdock won yet another round.

“It’s unfair, really. Gets the looks and the brains. He either folds right away, or wins the whole game.” Foggy shakes his head, shoving Matt on the shoulder. “I lost a lotta money to this guy in college.”

“Yet you still play him.” Karen chucks her cards in the centre, watching Foggy re-shuffle the deck while Matt takes his winnings, shrugging.

“I didn’t say I learnt from it.”

“But how does that even…work? Because, you’re—well, you know…” You lean back, trying not to think about Matt’s attention, and how it had been on you the whole night. Especially now, as his fingers card through the new wad of cash in his hands, almost like he’s doing it just for you.

“Blind?” He smiles, and you make a noise of agreement while finishing off your beer. “I’m just very good at reading people.”

“Oh, I get it. You cheat, don’t you? Feel the fibres in the cards or whatever.” He scoffs, shaking his head.

“Feel the fibres?”

“Okay— well, it’s something like that, though. Isn’t it?” Even Foggy was interested now, snatching the deck that was now in the centre of the table. Matt shrugs again, hanging one arm around the empty chair next to him.

“I don’t cheat. Most people give away their hand as soon as they open their mouth. You just have to know the tell. Poker is just a waiting game.” He says it casually like winning every single poker game he’s ever played is the simplest thing in the world. “Plus, like you said. It’s not like I can look over your shoulder, can I? How would I cheat?”

“Well, whatever it is, I hope it fails, because I need to start paying off this tab if Josie’s gonna serve us anymore.” Foggy deals out the cards, and you watch Matt intently. He never even picks up his cards, just sits there with one hand wrapped around his beer, head turned in your direction. “Alright, Karen?”

“I’m out. I’m running out of money.” Foggy boo’s, and she laughs, sliding off her chair. “Maybe if my boss’ paid me more, I’d be in.”

“Okay, ouch.” Foggy pouts, but deals your cards, skipping over Karen’s empty seat. “Matthew, you start.”

“I’m in.” He smirks, his free hand lightly tracing around the edges of his face-down cards. “Your turn, sweetheart.”

“In.” You look at Foggy, and he sighs, pushing in his money as well.

“Last round. I’m all in.” All in doesn’t mean a lot to Foggy considering he’d only had about two chips and a one dollar bill left, but you and Matt still had a fair amount. Both of you match his bet, and he flips over another card. “Well, fuck.”

“See? Everyone’s got a tell.” Matt laughs and you roll your eyes. Foggy chucks his cards in the centre.

“Anyone could tell Foggy was gonna lose.”

“Hey! I had a fair chance about an hour ago.” Leaving both you and Matt laughing, he turns to go find Karen. “You two kids get home safe, okay?”

“I’ll look after her.” He says, his head still angled towards you. Your grip on the cards in your hand gets a little tighter, and he taps his finger on the table, asking you to flip another card. “Come on. You aren’t giving up yet, are you?”

“Definitely not.” You flip the last card, and it’s a King. The one you were looking for— you had a full house. A strong hand, but you didn’t want to give yourself away. You say nothing, remembering what Matt said earlier, and he smiles after a beat of silence.

“You aren’t talking to me now?” He teases, leaning over the table on his forearms to get a little closer to you. He smells like beer and cedar— a strange combination, but somehow intoxicating on him. “You know I’m gonna beat you anyways. No point in getting all quiet on me.”

“Shut up and make your bet, Murdock.” He’s still got that smirk on his face, the one that says he’s going to beat you before you’ve even put your cards down, and he matches your bet, sliding a few bills into the centre. “Showoff.”

“Just trying to impress you.” He was making it increasingly hard to keep a poker face, and you know he couldn’t see you but somehow it felt like he could see straight through you, like he knew how every one of his sweet words ate away at that feeble resistance you’d built up to try and keep him out. “You can fold if you need to. I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

“Does this whole act usually work for you? The girls eat this shit up, don’t they?” He shrugs, leaning back and leaving his still turned down cards on the table.

“Most of the time.” You push in double the amount of money he bet, and somehow he knows exactly how many, because before you’d even sat back he was matching the bet, smiling sweetly at you.

“How?!”

“How what?”

“How do you know you’ll win?” You lean forward and he moves too, mirroring you and nearly meeting your hands in the centre of the small table.

“I can’t give away all my secrets.” You roll your eyes and lay your cards face up on the table. He doesn’t so much as flinch, both your bodies still leaning towards each other.

This part of the bar was quiet and secluded, and you swear if you angled yourself just right no one would even be able to see you from here. The thought drove your brain to a whole lot of dirty thoughts you had been trying your best not to have about your literal boss, and you physically shook them away. When he spoke again, you had to squint to focus.

“Wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

“Oh, piss off. Let’s see what you have.” You deflect, holding out hope you could still make something of this game. Still smirking, he keeps his head angled towards you, reaching over and sliding his cards to you. You’re hesitant to take them, and he knows it.

“Help a guy out?” He reaches out to the wrong spot on the table, a clear ploy to get you to flip them for him. He was delaying this— dragging it out because it was fun to him, and as much as it sucked you were losing money, you’d probably empty your wallet if it kept him this close to you.

“I’m not falling for your helpless act. I’ve seen you in a court room.”

“Indulge me.” Deciding not to delay the process any longer, you flip them all over in one go.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” A royal-fucking-flush.

“What is it?” He says smiling, keeping as close to you as possible.

“A— you know what? I’m not even going to tell you.” He breathes out a laugh, leaning back finally, and it’s only when he’s sitting in his chair again that you manage to get your head screwed back on straight. “Now I’m really out of money.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Happens to the best of them.” You scoff. That’s the second time he’s called you that, and it seems to make you fidget in your seat more every time.

“Just means you have to cover the tab.”

“Don’t pout.” Instantly you steeled your face, and just as you were about to ask him exactly how he knew, he spoke again. “I tell you what— you want your money back, we can play a new game. All or nothing.”

“I feel like this is a trap.” He laughed, the sound drawing you in like some kind of siren song. You leaned forward again, reaching out for your money on the table, but he was faster, his own enveloping yours. His hands were rough and large, and you couldn’t peel your eyes away from how you practically disappeared underneath him.

“It’s not a game we can play here, though.” You swallow hard. You’d always flirted with Matt— it was easy, and honestly the best part of your day was seeing that playful smile, or even when his ears got a little pink when you got particularly close to whisper something about a case.

But this? He’s talking about leave a bar with him. On a Saturday night. To play a game. You chugged the rest of your beer, needing the liquid courage.

“Alright, Matthew. I’ll indulge you. What kind of game are you talking about?”

“Poker.” Laughing, you watch as he gets up from his chair and grabs his jacket, already resigned to the idea you were both leaving. Now.

“We are playing poker.”

“It’s not that kind of poker.” He’s right next to you now, edged between you and the chair cemented to the floor next to you. He was so close you had no choice but to lean into him, not that you could think of anything else you’d rather be doing.

“Not that kind of poker?” You say softly, and he hums. The sound vibrates through his chest, and you resist the urge to flutter your eyes close and just listen to him talk. Something about his voice has you floating on air, and it’s part of the reason he’s so hard to resist. He just never stops talking.

You jump slightly when you feel his hand brush against your shoulder. You were wearing a silk dress that hung off your shoulder, so he took his time, grazing along your soft skin. His fingers carded through your hair lightly, and to top it off, he brushed the hair back, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck, tilting your face upwards gently.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were suggesting something unprofessional, Mr. Murdock.” His face splits into another smile, but his hand drops from your skin. Instantly you feel colder without his touch.

“You tell me to go to Hell right now and I will. No hard feelings. You’re a good lawyer, and I won’t mess this up for you.” Now you understand why he stopped touching you. Matthew Murdock— self professed people reader, was unsure if he’d read this situation right. The thought occurred to you once to fuck with him a little, but when you looked up at him and saw how tight his jaw was, you melted a little. That tiny wall of resistance you’d built up was crumpled from the inside.

“And if I say I’m interested in this little game?”

“Then I’d say I’ll meet you outside. Balls in your court, princess.” He presses a light kiss to your cheek, and you nearly get dizzy from the gesture if you hadn’t seen him grab your money as well as his off the table before he disappears into the crowd.

You call after him, but all you get is a shrug and a laugh that is unmistakably his as he disappears into the crowd. You don’t move for a second— your heart screaming at you to get on your feet and follow him, but a small, stupid part of your brain tells you to not. He was your boss, after all, and you needed this job, but it was also Matt.

You knew he was a little bit of a lady killer— Karen and Foggy making a thousand jokes at his expense which he managed to laugh off. Even with clients he always managed to win the girls over with his charm, but as much as people talk about it, ever since you came around you haven’t seen him so much as flirt for more than a few minutes with anyone but you. Sure, you weren’t with him every second of every day, but between the late nights and weekends spent in his office to getting lunch and sometimes dinner on your days off, even Foggy had made a few passing comments about how he’d staved off women.

You didn’t have a leg to stand on to get jealous even if he did— but it made your heart stutter in his chest to think you had something to do with it. He was always showing up with an extra coffee for you, walking you home if you had to stay late, paying you endless compliments… and the way he spoke to you, teasing but never cruel, always making you laugh even when you hadn’t slept for 24 hours.

Really— your decision on whether to follow him out was made months ago when you first met him. The moment you saw that stupid smile and the first time he said your name; you nearly took the chair with you with how quick you jumped up to find him outside the bar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’ve never been to your place before.” You listen to the sound of Matt pouring you a glass of wine as you hang your head off the back of his couch. You have to squint to block out the streaming colour of light that shines through the giant windows; hues of pink and blue billboard warped from the rain that was coming down outside.

“It’s an acquired taste.” He taps your leg and you shift to sit up, him sitting close next to you handing you a glass. “You like red, right?”

“I drink anything as long as it’s free.”

“This one’s on me.” You laugh into your glass, taking a long sip and enjoying the burn that comes with it. It tastes expensive, and you expect nothing less from him. He’s facing you, one arm lazily hanging behind you on the couch, and your heart is racing even without the wine.

“So, did you really invite me up here for a game of poker, or was that just a ploy to get in my pants?” His laugh fills the quiet apartment, and he leans forward to pull out a drawer, his hand reappearing with a deck of cards.

“I never say no to a pretty girl in my apartment, but if you want your money back, you’re going to have to play me for it.” You snatch the cards from him, shuffling them dramatically.

“And tell me why, exactly, we couldn’t play this all important game in the bar?” You watch him carefully, how you always do when your alone, and you see his tell tale sign. The slightest hint of red on his cheeks, just at your question. “Matthew?”

“You’re out of money, but we’re still playing poker. What do you think we’re betting?” Now you were the one blushing.

“So this really was a ploy to get in my pants.” You try to sound nonchalant, confident like he always manages to come across as, but your voice shakes a little at the end of your sentence, and you were still shuffling the cards even though they were way past ready. You quickly put them on the table and down the rest of your wine.

“Can you blame me?” He asks lowly, and you cross your legs, ignoring the heat that grows in your stomach. “Listen, you know I love these games we play, but I don’t want you to—“

“If you’re bitching out now, I can take the money in credit or cheque, too.” He stops talking, mouth open a little, and scoffs out a laugh. The last thing you wanted him to do was think you weren’t a hundred and ten percent here for whatever he wanted to do with you. To you. Shit— that wine was going straight to your head.

“Alright, you asked for it. I was gonna go easy on you, but…”He sighs and shakes his head, and you roll your eyes, dealing the cards.

“Sure you were. Pick up the cards this time.” You all but shove them in his hands, and he takes his time pulling away from you, smiling like he could feel your pulse through the small touch and knew how much he affected you.

Looking at your cards, you tried to see a way to win with what was on the table. You had nothing, really, but he didn’t know that, and you still had a chance. Besides, if he wanted to play that kind of poker, you were positive you wouldn’t have to rely on the cards to distract him. If you could keep your thoughts under control.

“It’s a real shame you aren’t going to win, you know.” You bait him, and his head tilts up from where he was pretending to be looking at his cards.

“And why is that?” You shift in your seat at his voice. Again.

“Well, I dressed up all pretty for tonight.” You flip over the next card on the table, and suck in a breath. “And it’s just a shame you won’t get to experience that.”

“You know the point of this game isn’t to keep your clothes on. No matter how pretty you are in that dress.” He flips over the final card, and you bite down on your lower lip. You have nothing. Nada.

“Exactly, but the best part of my outfit isn’t the dress. It’s what I’m wearing underneath.” His eyes close, and you watch as he sighs and lets his head fall back.

“Can’t believe I was going to take it easy on you, sweet thing.” You can’t stop the grin on your face as he looks up at you like he’s in legitimate pain. “Play your cards.”

“Ohh, so serious now!” He manages a small ‘hm’ and although you were joking, he doesn’t seem so playful anymore. The look on his face was more akin to what he was like in court— focused and ready to win at all costs. “Don’t pout.”

“You’re bluffing, aren’t you?” He says, and you feel his hand on your opposite shoulder, the arm laying around the back of your couch sneaking closer while you were distracted. You shuffle slightly closer, allowing him the space.

“I thought you knew everyone’s tells.”

“You’re a little harder to read than most, I’ll admit it.” You make a noise in surprise, but he just shakes his head. “That doesn’t mean I won’t take you apart just as easily.”

“Guess you’ll have to play your cards to find out. Unless you want to fold?” He laughs, breaking up the tension just a little, and while you two were inches away from each other, he tosses his cards half heartedly onto the table, face up.

“How’d I do?” He leans closer, taking the extra space when you turn your head. You feel every word he speaks on your skin, lips not even an inch away from being on you. You could hardly keep your eyes open, let alone focus on the cards.

“I think you win this round.” You manage, shakily exhaling as you practically feel his smile on your neck. The hand that was around the back of the couch leaves you completely, while the other slowly creeps up the bare skin of your arm, making you shiver. “Th-three sixes against a four of a kind.”

“Hmm. Unlucky.” Shallow breaths were the only ones you could take with him this close. Gentle fingers find the soft material of the strap of your dress, hooking under it loosely. You told yourself you didn’t wear this dress for him— but you knew how it would feel. Silky and smooth against your skin, if he couldn’t see how good you looked in this dress, he would damn well feel it.

He slowly drops the strap down your shoulder, then the other hand encourages the other side down. You use your arms to keep the dress up, making him work for it a little, but as soon as he tugs lightly at the hem you let the dress fall over your breasts.

Matt’s hands feel the lace of your bra, lingering a little longer than he had to. Then he flattens his palms on either side of your rib cage, pulling the dress lower. He feels every curve and ridge on your body, and you can’t take your eyes off his face. He was enamoured— completely lost in the feeling, so much so that his eyes were shut tightly, even the light was taking too much away from the sensation.

“Matt, hurry u—“

“Shh. Let me enjoy my prize.” He finally leans closer, a soft kiss to your collarbone nearly melting you into the couch.

His hands reach your hip, and then get a little more aggressive, fisting the soft material and pulling rather than guiding. You shimmy your hips and let him drag it down your thighs. He seems reluctant to move past the faint excuse for underwear you were wearing, but eventually the dress falls to the floor, and he sighs.

“You were right.”

“About what?” His hand catches your chin, thumb pressing on your bottom lip lightly.

“You are even prettier like this.” Your knuckles were going white with how hard they were trying to stay at your sides, but now you were half naked, and he hadn’t so much as taken his jacket off.

“You think so?”

“I fucking know so. And these—“ The hand on holding your face to his is still on your hip, and one finger hooks under the lace. “—these for me?”

“You haven’t won that yet.” He presses his forehead to yours and groans, and then leans back, but doesn’t go too far. “Your turn to deal.”

“Fine.” He frowns like a little kid who just got told he can’t have ice cream, and quickly swipes up the cards. It’s only then that you notice these ones— his personal set, have braille on them.

“You can read these ones.” You say, and he nods.

“This game is much more important.” Biting your lip so hard it’s probably bleeding, you watch his talented hands quickly sort and deal the cards. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m cheating.”

“You’re so funny.” You squint, and he smiles.

This round is much faster. He’s clearly in no mood to fuck around anymore, and makes every opportunity to touch you now you’re sitting in front of him in nothing but a few strands of lace. In front of anyone else, you think you’d feel insecure, or at the very least cold, but with the way he’s acting like he’s starving for you— it has enough heat in that look to warm you for an entire winter.

You actually have a good hand this time, and to your surprise, you win. Your Aces beat his fours, and he takes off his jacket.

“That is hardly fair.”

“Are you trying to get me to take my clothes off? Because that is entirely unprofessional.” You want to laugh, but what you want more is to tear off the buttons on his shirt and— “Your cards, sweetheart.”

“So, are you going to tell me how you know you’ll win?” You take them quickly, trying to ignore how you missed him reshuffling the deck completely because you were too lost in your thoughts of fucking him right here, right now. What else was going to happen here, though? It was the anticipation that was driving you wild— the inevitable burn of what was months in the making.

“You really want to know?”

“Please.” He smiles again, flicking through his cards.

“I can hear your heartbeat.” You laugh, and he faces you again.

“You’re kidding.”

“It gets faster when you’re winning.” You look down at your cards— another solid hand, and you think he might of had something to do with that.

“I don’t think th—“

“It’s getting faster.” He leans closer again, tilting his head like he could actually hear you internally losing your shit. He was right— it was getting faster, but it had nothing to do with the cards. “You have a good hand, don’t you?”

“Maybe?” He laughs, and his hand touches yours. You watch as his hands— the hands you’ve spent way too many hours looking at, and they read your cards.

“Shit. I’m starting to think you might be cheating.” He starts unbuttoning his shirt, but your hands reach out, stopping him.

“My turn.” Keeping your hands on top of his, you relish in his surprised expression as you swing your leg over him. He all but gasps when you sit your weight down fully, the underwear hiding nothing from him or you as you press yourself against him.

Your fingers are as soft as his were, moving his tie to the side while you slowly undo each little button. When a new one opens, more of him is revealed, and every inch of unexplored skin has you nearly panting. Not to mention the way he’s holding you, his hands roaming the bare skin of your back and hips to pull you closer.

When you finally reach the bottom of his shirt, you nearly rip at it trying to remove it, but Matt takes it from you and slips out of it within a second, throwing it away somewhere behind you. Your hands are gentle as they slide up his chest, trying your best to avoid the scars that might still be painful. You had no idea he had so many scars— the image of him shirtless is even more alluring now.

“I don’t want to play games anymore.” You whisper, and his hand is already tangled in your hair when you finish, hauling your lips to his in a hungry kiss. Its fiery and hot, everything burning at once. You wrap your arms around his head and in one motion he stands, a small squeak of surprise coming from you as your legs wrap around his torso.

You couldn’t stop obsessing over the feeling of his skin on yours, the way he felt so warm against you; how his hands were rough and gentle at the same time, grabbing and pulling at any part of you they could find purchase. Eventually he stopped moving and your world fell backwards, landing on soft sheets and being encased by Matthew Murdock.

“Matty…” You whine into his mouth and he hums against you, his tongue opening you up, taking control of every single breath you take. Your eyes flutter open when he moves lower, kissing your jaw, and you inhale sharply when his teeth bite lightly at the sensitive spot on your neck. It felt electric, almost, the way he followed the harsher touch with gentle kisses and soothing hands.

“Fuck, you liked that? My sweet little fucking thing. Thought about this every day.” He groaned the confessions against your skin, leaving you helpless to do anything but moan and squirm underneath him. You were at his mercy, and you were pretty sure if he didn’t fuck you soon you’d implode. “You’re beautiful. Beautiful.”

His hand slips from your side down between your bodies, quickly finding the spot between your legs that has you nearly screaming his name in the first ten seconds.

“Oh God, more—please.” You beg shamelessly, rolling your hips into his hand as he takes his time drawing slow, firm circles on your clit. His other hand holds your hips down, making you whine in protest.

“I know, baby. Feels good?” You nod quickly, eyes squeezed shut.

“I need you—“

“You’re so fucking pretty like this. You want me to take these off? Have I won these yet?” He whispers, that casual confidence thick in his low tone.

“Anything you want. You w-win.” He tugs at the now ruined fabric, and you practically beg him to get rid of them, a mixture of ‘pleases’ and ‘yes’ in high pitched tones must convince him. He quickly slides them over your knees before his hand returns to your clit, making your legs shake with how close you are. He had you on the edge with just one of his talented fucking hands— but then he drops down, shoulders forcing your legs apart and buries his face in you. You hardly have time to realise what’s happening before your hands are threaded through his hair and your hips are fighting in his hold to stay still.

“Fuck, Matt!” You scream, and he only wraps himself further to you, hooking his arms under your thighs and holding you on him. When he takes your clit in his mouth you lose all sense of reality, and are shoved towards the edge of consciousness, white hot pleasure stripping you bare. “God—“

“You taste so fucking sweet— cum for me. I want to hear you say my name like that again” He murmurs into you before going back to driving you into the hardest release you’ve ever felt build before.

“Matt. Matt—“He holds you so tight you couldn’t squirm away if you tried, and when your orgasm washes over you, you all but drown in it. Electricity shoots up your spine and your back arches, hands gripping Matt’s hair hard enough that you feel him groan into you at the feeling.

“Harder.” He moans into you, and you were still so lost in your own pleasure that you couldn’t do anything but obey— nearly yanking him upwards, but he just moans again and takes everything you give him.

He only drags himself away when you jolt at his touch, kissing his way up your stomach, chest, and this time when he gets to the fabric of your bra he lingers longer, taking his time to enjoy the feel of the lace under his fingers. When he starts kissing your neck, leaving a multitude of hickeys you’ll never be able to hide in the morning, you notice at some point he’d taken the rest of his clothes off.

His hips slot between yours and he’s fucking hard— the feeling of him pressed against you makes you gasp. He was bigger than you’d expected, and every so often his hips would move slowly, running the length of him through your wet folds making you whimper into his mouth again.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was gravelly and layered with restraint— hands gliding up and down your side, grounding you.

“Perfect, Matty. Please…” He kisses you again, gentle and sweet, nodding as he slides himself into you. You gasp into each others mouths at the feeling, and he pulls back, watching your expression melt from a little bit of pain as he waits and kisses you, to pleasure, taking the hint of your nails in his shoulders to start moving slowly.

“Oh, fuckfuckfuck— so fucking good. Jesus Christ.” He moans in your ear and you shiver. It was always his voice that drove you crazy, but hearing it now, so broken and not put together like he always is. The words hit you in the chest, pleasure blooming in every single one of your veins, overtaking every part of your body. “So tight.”

“Right there. Harder, please Matt. Please…” He holds you tighter as he does what you ask, and your whimpers turn into screams as he fucks you into the mattress without another thought. Your eyes must roll back or close because you lose the sight of his face, but all you need is to hear him.

“Good girl. Good..fucking…girl.” Hearing the way he says your name, all drawn out and heavy— how he whispered how he wanted to fuck you for days, how he thought about ducking you at your desk for just as long as you secretly did. Everything about him, mixed with the brutal pace he fucked you with hurtled you into another wave of pleasure, screaming his name so loud there’s no way the rest of Hell’s kitchen didn’t know exactly who was making you feel this good.

“There you go, baby. Gonna…fuck— gonna cum. Sweet fucking thing.” His hips stuttered and you were still cumming, every word spurring you further out of your mind.

“Give it to me, please please please—“ He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you felt the warmth of his release on your stomach and thighs. He was still breathing praises into your skin even after he pulled out, wrapping you into his body, not caring about the mess you had both made. He couldn’t find the care to let you go.

When you had both finally caught your breath, he dropped beside you, curling your body to fit perfectly against the front of his. His hand tangled in your hair, lips pressing to your forehead and cheek as he used his own shirt to clean you both off gently. You were both far too lost in each others mouths to do it properly, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck. You’d gladly spend the rest of your days losing hours in Matt Murdocks mouth.

“Stay tonight.” He whispers, voice cracking.

“Only if you admit I won.” You can feel him smiling against your skin, the sensation sending a different kind of warmth all the way down your spine.

“Yeah. You win.”

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Foggy and Karen spy on Matt's date with Reader

hii!! sorry this took longer than I planned, I wasn’t writing during the holidays and only just had time to work through the rest of my inbox. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

NOSEY

matt murdock x implied fem!reader

word count. 353

Matt's friends are the types that are always on the lookout - ones who try their hardest to protect him and guide him in the right direction. Though, with Matt, that isn't always easy.

When it came to dating, Karen and Foggy were often wary about their friends' choice of partners. They knew very little about his previous flings and girlfriends, though there would be one that always came to mind first, the one who had caused him the most damage. The one he dated in college - the one who chewed him up and spat him out. Elektra.

So, as a result, Matt's friends often injected themselves into his love life, wanting to guard him and steer him - wanting to save him from even more harm. They would disapprove of Matt's poor choices in romantic partners, often shaming him for his casual hookups and one-night stands - reprimanding him for his refusal to settle down with someone decent. 

All berating from his friends stopped when he mentioned someone new he was dating. And that was you. He wasn't usually one to share details of his new partners, but there was just something so uniquely special about you, something so different to all his past partners. 

He knew he didn't need their approval or blessing, but he found it almost oddly comforting to hear their genuine excitement for him, for them to be intrigued and finally pleased with his choices. 

Things were still new and foreign and scary between you, but it was the good kind. And although you were only two proper and official dates in - you each had a positive feeling about where things were heading. 

When your third date rolled around, unbeknownst to the pair of you, Matt's friends had set up shop in a corner booth at the back of the restaurant, essentially spying on your date. They listened in on your conversations and watched your body language - noticing lingering hands and earnest smiles. 

And as they watched from a near distance - for once, they had finally approved of who Matt had decided to date.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[devils-dares]

Where We Begin

summary: you were willing to let yourself think that matt was in your past, no matter how much of a shitfaced lie it was, so what happens when he shows up out of the blue at your dorm?

pairing: college!matt x fem!reader

warnings: NSFW 18+ minors DNI, semi-established relationship once again, hatred, softness at the end

wordcount: 1644

a/n: part two to top of the class, but it can be read as a standalone as well. i cannot tell you how many times i exited this doc and then re-entered it, just to not write anything. anyways, big stuff coming up in the future!

feedback is always appreciated!

-----

“Stop knocking like a maniac, I’m coming!” You yell at the door, annoyed you had to leave your bed. You unlock the door, welcomed by a smug face.

“What in the actual fuck are you doing here?” You ask accusatory, pulling Matt in by his shirt.

“Felt like it.” He shrugged.

“You are so lucky my roommate isn’t here, and why do you even think for a second I’d want to sleep with you?”

“You did it last time, and unless I’m having trouble remembering, you had a hell of a time.”

“You are unbelievable, Murdock.”

“And yet you’re still gonna let me fuck you.” You don’t answer, but instead pull your shirt over your head and toss it at him. He laughs, and you hate the way you feel yet the backs of your knees meet your mattress when he tells you to move. You allow his hands to push up on your hips, lifting you to sit on the bed.

“Always so willing for me, aren’t you?” He says, a bite of snark in his voice. His hands trace up over the soft skin by your ribs, his lips keeping yours occupied. For a man whose words aim to humiliate you with every breath, he kisses you soft and slow, as a person would kiss their lover.

You pull at his shirt, cotton wringing its way around your fingers as he answers your silent request. He pulls the soft material off and tosses it to the floor, an item to find later.

“When’s your roommate coming back?” He asks, breathless against your lips.

“Lecture,” you say between kisses, “we have two hours- god will you come closer?” His smile grows wider against your lips as your words sink in and your actions cause his body to land on top of yours.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” His hands sneak towards your back and you arch up a bit so he can unhook your bra. It joins both of your discarded shirts on the floor as his hands cover the expanse of your breasts. His lips trail down to your jaw.

“No marks, Matt,” you plead and he grunts out his disagreement, “I had to use almost all of my concealer covering up the ones from before, so unless you plan on buying me more, no marks.”

“You’re no fun,” he complains, “how about here?” His finger traces lightly right underneath your collarbones and you find yourself fighting to not give a reaction to his touch, “hidden by your shirt?”

“Fuck- fine. Just touch me.”

“Ask nicely.”

“Touch me or I’ll kick you out.”

“Fair enough.” His fingers ghost their touch down to the waistband of your sweatpants, and you lift your hips so he can pull them off.

“This okay?” He traces over the wet patch on your panties and you moan out your agreement. He laughs at your reaction while pulling your panties off to the side.

“So wet for me, aren’t you?” His fingers trail up and down and immediately your nails dig into his shoulders at the feeling. He pushes a finger in and you gasp.

“So tight around me, almost like you're enjoying yourself.”

“Shut up.” You say, gritting your teeth trying to work through the words as he pushes a second finger in.

“Make me.” He bites back, and you push the top of his head down until his face lines up with your pussy.

“How about you put that mouth to a better use instead of wasting your breath by talking?” You answer, and he chuckles darkly.

“Someone’s bossy today.” His lips wrap around your clit and suck in cadence with his fingers fucking you. Your fingers lace through strands of his hair, pulling hard when he gives you a particularly harsh suck. He groans from the sting, which eggs him on because he’s fucking you with an unmatched intensity. He speeds up and feels you squeeze around his fingers, teetering closer to the edge.

“Cum for me.” He speaks against your core. Your fingers pull on his hair even harder, and his groan sets you off, squeezing your thighs around his head as you cum.

“Matt, Matt-” He pulls away, allowing you to finish your sentence. That gives you the opportunity to see his face, chin, nose, and lips shiny from your wetness.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Too much- I just- need you.”

“You have me.” He slides back up, leaning down to capture your lips in a fiery kiss. You reach down and tug at the waistband of his pants, pulling the elastic just far down enough to expose him. You run your fingers up and down, tracing a vein as he groans into the crook of your neck.

“You drive me insane.” He breathes out, sucking hard enough to leave a mark right below your collarbone. You whine when he pulls away, your hands reaching out to bring his body warmth back to you.

“Shh, gonna fuck you now.” He takes his pants off, grabbing himself. He drags his cock against your pussy to collect your wetness on his tip. He pushes in gently, pausing when you squeeze his shoulders after he bottoms out.

“You okay?” He asks, hand coming up to gently stroke your cheek.

“Yeah, I just need a second.” He hums and lets you breathe, allowing you to stretch around him.

“Okay.” You breathe out, and he pulls out and pushes back in, lips against yours to swallow your whines.

He picks up the pace, the mattress squeaking its disapproval at the weight of his thrusts. Your foreheads are pressed together, sharing breaths. With one arm propping him up on the bed, he wraps the other under you, pulling you against him. Your hands tangle in the sheets, unable to form any words of how Matt’s making you feel. He groans, fucking you rougher. The headboard begins to bang against the wall, and a few knocks on the wall shared by you and your dorm neighbor bring you to realize how loud you’re being.

“Gotta be- fuck! Quiet, Matty!” He listens, grabbing the pillow from beneath your head and stuffs it between the headboard and the wall, effectively dampening the sound. The pillow does nothing to quiet your moans however, and Matt quiets you by stuffing two fingers in your mouth.

“Such a good girl for me, babybug, but you gotta be quiet.” You hum against his fingers, sucking harder as he shifts his weight to his knees, using his other hand to rub at your clit.

“You- goddamn- you gonna cum for me? Gonna squeeze my cock like a good girl and cum?” You nod, and as his fingers pick up the pace on your clit, you feel your release crest, stars exploding in your vision as you can do nothing but pull him close.

He finishes quickly after you do, turning the two of you over so he doesn’t crush you with his weight.

“How do you feel?” He asks, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Ask me in five minutes.” You practically slur out, all your energy gone to Matt and the two orgasms he gave you. He yawns, and you laugh at him.

“Sleepy?” You ask.

“Shut your mouth.”

“Okay,” you lay your head back on his chest, “but we should probably get cleaned up before my roommate comes back.”

“Shit,” he groans, “forgot about that.” You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek, the days old stubble on his usually clean-shaven face prickling at your lips.

“Or you could stay,” you suggest with a shrug, “I mean, someone was bound to catch us.”

“You wanna be seen with me? That’s your suggestion?”

“Murdock, if there was a picture definition of fucked out, you and I would be plastered on the page.” Your fingers run through the sweaty locks of his hair, and he closes his eyes.

“I should clean you up, you know, gentleman act and all.” He says, voice growing deeper from sleep.

“I’ve got a box of kleenex sitting next to you if it makes you feel any better.” You suggest. He laughs.

“Yeah, that unfortunately doesn’t give off the vibes I was going for.”

You pull the pillow out from between the headboard and the wall, telling Matt to lift his head before you place it down right beneath him.

“It’s almost like you want me to fall asleep here.” He speaks softly now, sleep imminent in his voice.

“You’re warm, you have a few benefits.” He breathes out a laugh at your words, grabbing the blanket that lay at your feet to pull it over your bare bodies.

“Can I ask you something?” He says.

“You just did.” He sighs at your words.

“I’m being serious right now.”

“Okay, ask.”

“Do you want to go to the house party my frat’s throwing?”

“Uh yeah,” you answer, “was planning on going with some friends.”

“No, I mean, like- with me?”

“What, you want me to be with you at this party, Mr. Forever Single?”

“Would that be so bad?” He sounds sincere, voice never wavering.

“Matt, I… you know we can’t.”

“Okay,” he answers, “I’m not going to force you.” A beat of silence passes, and you take a breath before starting your next sentence.

“I will go with you if, and only if, you take me to dinner tonight.” You cringe immediately at the end of your sentence, hoping that that was what he was implying with the invitation to the party.

“Yes,” he answers quickly, “yes, I will take you to dinner tonight. It’s a date.”

“It’s a date.” You repeat in agreement, as you allow silence to befall you once more.

“So,” he starts, “what does that make us?” You smile and settle, allowing the exhaustion to take you over.

“Depends on how well this date goes.”

[outoftheseine]

- MATT MURDOCK FIC RECS -

(here is to my favorite lawyer by day and vigilante by night)

brief note: most fics contain canon trigger warnings (blood, violence, death, assault etc.) so please be aware of them.

main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

please don't be mad • matt murdock x fem!reader all i need is you

↳ by @chvoswxtch (angst, smut)

matt murdock x age gap!reader

↳ by @multiharlot

15 ways to love matt murdock • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @brokebonewritings

ONE-SHOTS/BLURBS/HC'S

strawberry rhubarb • matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @ellephlox (blood, torture, forced nudity)

these broken things • matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @courtforshort15 (angst, mentions of murder and blood)

steal my warmth • matt murdock x gn!reader

↳ by @devils-dares (very fluffy)

discordant • matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @ellephlox (angst, sex trafficking)

always here • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @blackshadowswriter (hurt/comfort, angst, nightmares)

like real people do • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @amhrosina (angst, hurt/comfort, nightmare trope, tw: panic attack, mentions of trauma and child abuse)

jealousy • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @devils-dares (jealous!matt, allusions to smut)

care packages • matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @chvoswxtch (very fluffy, mentions of violence)

how sweet it is (to be loved by you) • matt murdock x afab!reader

↳ by @courtforshort15 (oh very sweet, smut, virgin!reader)

green is the color • matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @courtforshort15 (angst, but happy ending, reader is insecure of her relationship with matt)

angel • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @peterman-spideyparker (so much angst :(, death)

sincerely, anxiety • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @brokebonewritings (so fluffy, i related too much)

never an ear strain away • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @amchapel (fluff, honestly i smiled a little too much while reading this)

it's in the details • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @onewholikesthings (fluff)

you are in the kitchen humming • matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @shadesofsteve (veryy fluffy, a little hurt/comfort)

always so good with the kids, and kids absolutely love him • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @yarrystyleeza (this was so sweet :'))

the comfort of your relationship • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @slightlypossessed (so much fluff, i love soft fics like this)

small acts of kindness • matt murdock x gn!reader

↳ by @mattmurdockspainkink (fluff, mentions of sensory overload and anxiety)

thinking about • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @murdocksluvrr (such a cute drabble, fluff)

halo not included • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @undiscovered-horizon

more • college!matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @itwasthereaminuteago (smut, virgin!reader)

without you • matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @foli-vora (so much angst, can't wait for part 2!)

bruises • matt murdock x gf!reader

↳ by @goldustwomun (angst, injuries, blood, fluff, hurt/comfort)

first of many • matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @coalix (smut)

what's your middle name? • matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @thegingerwriter (fluff and smut)

make amends • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @honeycombstrawberry (assault, angst but fluff, hurt/comfort)

again and again • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @imaginesfordifferentfandoms (angst, blood, comfort, fluff at the end)

"i no longer know where i end and you begin" • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @mattmurdockspainkink (this was so so cute and comforting, just fluff)

tracking the devil • matt murdock x enhanced! reader

↳ by @mattmurdocksscars (angst, injuries, ex lovers)

wanting • matt murdock x gn!reader

↳ by @coalix (i LOVED this, angst but happy ending)

afterglow • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @amhrosina (so. much. angst but happy ending)

stray • matt murdock x gn!reader

↳ by @itwasthereaminuteago (fluff)

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

blank space - m. murdock

a/n: uhm... this one is dedicated to my friend arin who doesn't like daredevil but is encouraging me to be more unhinged. i hope you guys enjoy because i had a blast writing this. possible part two in the works, please like and reblog with comments and feedback <3 warnings: i cannot emphasize this enough-- DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT there is so little comfort to all of this hurt. matt is abusive and mean and reader is tortured and quiet and readers dad is an addict and a gambler and also stabbing, cursing, talking about fucking, sub/dom dynamics, nicknames, fem reader, lmk if i missed any! word count: 3.5k summary: Your dad makes your life horrible. Matt can make it worse. paring: dark!matt murdock x reader now playing: blank space (taylor's version) - taylor swift "so it's gonna be forever/or it's gonna go down in flames?/you can tell me when it's over/if the high was worth the pain"

You never meant to get involved with him.

Really, it wasn’t anything you did.

 As usual, it came back around to your father, who had a bad gambling problem, as well as a substance issue, and would often be tempted to gamble big prizes for things like coke or heroin. He would bet money, college funds, heirlooms, your house.

But of course, he couldn’t pay these debts.

Your mom had been gone for quite some time, and you suspect this is where your fathers’ addictions stem from. But you’re trying to just make your way through your adult life. You had gone to a local college, unable to afford much else. Now, you worked in a dingy little office where they constantly abused your work ethic.

Between your grief, his constant betting on your lively hood, and your asshole boss, you felt your bones grow tired. Not the sort of tired that could be fixed by a good night’s sleep. The sort of tired that could be fixed by a new life, not that you had the means for that.

You think your mother would haunt you for the rest of your days if you abandoned your dad.

Friday night came, and you were ready to go home to the small apartment you shared with your father, and drink some wine, and get a nice sleep.

You had been told by your boss that you needed to stay late to translate paper files to the digital system. No, you would not be getting paid overtime.

It was dark by the time you finally left, your feet aching in your heels as you made your way through Hell’s Kitchen, wanting to get home so as not to start crying on the streets of New York.

You don’t make it home.

As you turn the corner by your block, you notice a van creeping up on you. How long had it been following you? If you weren’t so tired, maybe you would know.

But the van pulled up next to you, and you did the only thing you could in this situation. You started to run.

Only, you made it about ten feet before you twisted your ankle with these stupid fucking heels. As you fall, you let out a cry of pain, and before you can think, two men are outside the van. They grab you by the arms and pull you into the van, the whole time you struggle.

Someone puts a black hood over your head and wraps duct tape around your hands. Your ankle is fucking aching.

You aren’t sure how long you drive for, but someone is then pulling you out of the van and drags you along. They give you an opportunity to walk but your ankle hurts to the point where you can’t walk.

They drag you again, and your foot is dragging, and holy shit, you can’t believe that your biggest concern while being kidnapped is how much your ankle hurts.

Eventually, hood on your head still, you are sat in a chair. Your hands are untied, and you want to jump up and fight, but you know your ankle won’t help you here.

They quickly tie your hands back to the chair, with rope this time. Whoever ‘they’ are.

You’re starting to have trouble breathing, because you’re realizing what sort of situation, you’re in right now.

You’ve been kidnapped for something; you have to assume in some way that it’s to get back at your father.

The hood is pulled off your head, and your eyes take a moment to adjust.

The room you’re in is dark, dingy. You know there’s two people behind you, big enough to carry you. You can hear water outside the room, assuming you’re in an abandoned office by the docks. Then, there’s three people in front of you.

One is a man, with long blond hair. He wears a nice suit and is just standing in front of the door. Another is a woman, with even longer blond hair and she also dons rather luxurious apparel. Your dirty work clothes make you look meager next to her.

The last is a man with dark hair. He wears a simple, rather expensive suit, and red glasses.

If you weren’t on the verge of a meltdown, you’d probably realize how hot he is.

Oh, he also holds a knife.

The blond man talks first.

“So. Do you want to start, or should we?”

“What?” Your ankle throbs.

“I guess we should, then.” He hums. “Do you have five grand worth of heroin on you, dear?”

You could throw up.

“I—”

“No, of course you don’t. You and your boyfriend probably used it all.”

What is he talking about? Now, on top of being in pain and panicked, you’re confused.

“The man you live with?” The woman finally speaks. “I assume you two used all the heroin he stole.”

You realize she means your father. You realize that your father stole five grand worth of heroin. What else did he steal?

“What else does he owe?”

“No, darling,” she scoffs, “We ask, you answer.”

“I don’t do heroin.”

“So, how do you know he owes us more?”

“Took a wild fucking guess.” You spit. “Figured you wouldn’t kidnap someone over five grand, figure money is no object.”

The man with the knife steps out of the shadows. Your heartbeat races, and he chuckles. He crouches in front of you.

“You’re a spitfire. I like that. In fact, I love that in a woman, don’t I, Foggy?” He turns his head back slightly.

Foggy answers.

“That you do, man.”

His head turns back to you. But you get the impression by his glasses that he can’t see. So how is he looking right at you?

“If you give us some sort of sass like that again, I’ll stab you and make sure you feel every second of pain.” You whimper, and he laughs again. “Not so cocky anymore, are we, sweetheart?” He stands and goes behind you, his arms landing on the outside of your own, caging you in. He leans down and whispers in your hear, “Is this.. turning you on, sweetheart?”

You don’t answer.

“Answer me.”

“No.”

“Liar.” He whispers back, the knife gracing over your ear. He cuts your ear just enough to make it bleed, and tears slip down your face. He makes his way back to the front of you and crouches again. “I’ll ask you again. How do you know he owes me more?”

“I figured he would, when gamblers start, they don’t stop.”

“Not only did you lie to me again, you also just gave yourself away. Lie to me again and I hurt you worse.”

Your foot that isn’t hurt goes up and kicks him in the face. At least it tries, because his reaction is too quick, and he grabs your ankle.

“Bad, bad girl.” He tuts. He lets go of your leg and picks up your other leg, the one with the bruising, swollen ankle. You start to shake. His hand squeezes the wound and when you yell in pain, he just coos at you. “Aw, does that hurt, sweetheart?”

You’re busy crying.

“Answer me!” He demands. It shakes you to your core. You realize you do not know who you’re dealing with, and you’re even angrier at your father for jeopardizing you like this.

“Yes!” You sob, and this seems to satisfy him. He takes the knife in his other hand and slowly cuts open your stocking, loving the way you’re shaking with fear.

 “Keep moving and you’ll cut yourself.”

You try to calm yourself down, on the verge of a panic attack. The knife grazes your leg, and he starts to focus in on your thigh, twisting the knife around your skin.

“How do you know him?” he asks. And you aren’t sure why you try it. You don’t know how he knows when you lie.

“I’ll find a way to pay you back, just let me go, I promise, I’ll tell you where he is, just—”

Then you feel it.

The knife pierces your thigh and is lodged into your leg. You scream in pain, gripping the arms of the chair. Fuck, it hurts. Your vision blurs, and you’re unsure whether it’s from pain or from your tears.

 He stands up in front of you, ignoring the stares from Karen and Foggy. He knows he might have gone a step too far for someone he’s pretty sure is innocent in all this. But he can’t help himself. He likes hearing you wither in pain, and he likes being the person administering the pain. He has all these things he’s in control of, but at this moment, no one else is in the room. It’s you and him, in a rather intimate moment.

He pats your chin, “C’mon, focus, right here, sweetheart. Tell me the truth and I make the pain go away.” He tells you, breaking through the wall of pain and fear that blocks your ability to think.

“He’s my father!” You finally cry out. It comes out as if you’re yelling in church, screaming to God a confession you can’t bear anymore. The only thing missing is your position on your knees, but being below this man like this is as close to an altar as you can see yourself being. “I know he has a gambling problem, and I know he has a drug problem but that’s it! I don’t know anything else, I just lost the parent roulette, okay?!” Your words come gasped out, in between sobs and when you’re not too distracted with your pain.

He seems to be satisfied with this. He gets back down, closer to the ground. Now he’s the one at the altar, but the devil has no place in a church, only between your thighs. He tilts his head and kisses the inside of your thigh.

“See? Good girls get rewards.” Bad girls get stabbed. He stands up, and with him, he pulls at the knife. Blood gushes as you cry out in pain again, sure he'll leave you to bleed out, to be fed on by rats.

He drops the knife at your feet and adjusts his tie.

“What should we do with her, boss?”

“Go get her father.” He says, “But don’t let her go just yet. I’d like to keep her a while.” You think you’ll be sick. “Knock her out though, we don’t want her knowing where she is.” That’s the last thing before the butt of a gun meets your head.

It’s a nice relief from the pain.  

• • •

You wake up on a bed with silk sheets. It’s almost nice enough for you to forget about the whole situation. Maybe your whole life has been a dream, and really, you’re a rich housewife for a man who loves you deeply and your mom is still alive.

But then you sit up, and your stockings are ripped, and your heels are gone.

A brace wraps around your hurt ankle. A bandage wraps around your thigh. The pain isn’t there anymore, you’re not sure what drugs have been given to you.

The room is rather barren, you realize, with little to no works of art or even photos, and it’s rather dark. It’s also freezing cold, a central air system whirling around you. You wonder, if you’re a prisoner, then why put you in a room like this?

What is happening?

The door opens and immediately you went to defend yourself, though there were no weapons around you.

The man from the night before steps into the room, and he looks... casual. He wears dark jeans and a tee shirt, his glasses discarded. Bandages wrapped around his knuckles.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” You don’t respond, just stare at him. “I’m Matt.”

You stay quiet.

“You’re not being tortured anymore, honey. If you want, you can lie and be mean now, I don’t bite. Not anymore. Not unless you want me to.”

“I’m Matt.” You repeat, unable to believe it. “You stab me in the leg and kidnap me, and you go as casual as ‘I’m Matt’?” He grins.

“I told you; I love a woman with some fire.” You wonder how many times he’s used that line on people. “Telling them they’re beautiful just doesn’t hit the same way when you’re blind.” He says, going over to a door, and when he opens it, you realize it’s a closet.

“I want nothing to do with you.”

“No?” He turns to you, and smiles. He says your name. How does he know it? “You went to college for Marketing, cute. No siblings. Your mom died a few years ago, after a long battle with cancer. I’m sorry.” This sounds sincere. “You were engaged once, but he cheated on you and is now married to the other woman.” And he goes back to stinging. “Your father, I know all about him. David is an addict and a gambler. Now, addict, I could deal with. Addiction runs deep but it can be managed. It’s the gambling that frustrates me, and Sweetheart, If I’m frustrated, you must be riled up. He gambles everything, I should know. He gambles it to Foggy, who shares it with me.” He hums. He picks clothes out of the closet and heads back to you, “The pants are your size, but the shirt is mine.” He tells you, laying the clothes out in front of you. “Don’t worry about me watching, or anything.” It’s almost enough to make you smile.

You get changed, the challenge of slipping into the slightly lose jeans the hardest part. The bandage fits right in there, but even whatever pain meds have been given to you, aren’t enough.

“So, your father,” You groan, your face in your hands. You get it, your father is awful, and he hates him, but you know that your father is awful, and you know that you hate him. Why must he keep involving you? “I know, sweetheart, you’re in pain, and you hate him, but just stay with me on this.” he says, a cooing tone to his voice. You don’t know why, but you’re compelled to listen to him. “Your father forces you to live in this small apartment, because you’re the only one who works, and he always manages to find your money to gamble away. But it’s not just the money, it’s your electronics, your nice shoes, any pills you have in the house. And really, by doing all this, he is gambling you. Because not only is he risking not being able to pay his debts and someone taking you, but you’re tired. Aching for absolution that will never come. But the worst part is that even though all this stems from his grief around your mom, he gambled her wedding and engagement rings, the one you were always told you’d be proposed with.”

Tears well your eyes.

“Please, stop.”

He sits next to you on the bed, and you don’t have the energy to move away from him. In fact, you lean against him ever so slightly. He must know it too, you figure, since he can tell when you’re lying and when your heartbeat races. He’s warmer than you imagined. He’s a beacon of warmth in this cold, dim room.

He takes something out of his pocket, and then drops it into your hands. It’s a necklace, just a simple chain. Three things hang on it. A silver charm with an ‘M’ on it, and two rings. Your mom’s engagement ring, and her wedding band. You thought you’d never see it again, not after you came home and went to your jewelry box only to find out from your dad that he had lost it in a poker match a few weeks before.

You clutch the necklace in your hands.

“M for Matt?”

“Or Murdock, whatever you’d like.”

“You’re in charge, right? Just how in charge are you?”

“I run everything. There isn’t a corner of this city that I don’t have men in.” So, he’s the kingpin. The boss. Matt Murdock, a man feared by all, gentle to only you. Only for this moment.

“You’re not going to let me go, are you?”

“Bun, I was never going to let you go. But I don’t think you want to leave, either.”

You stay quiet. You can’t run. He made sure of that. Was he always going to stab you? Had he decided that from the moment he heard you whimper or was it your reaction to his pet names that did you in?

His fingers come up to graze your ear gently, but you flinch, since it’s where he had cut you.

“Bunnies are always so sensitive to the ears. Fragile. It’s not like you can hop away. Besides, you need time to heal, and I could take away all the pain. No more mean fathers, no more mean bosses, and no more mean thoughts.” He says gently. “I could put you back together.”

His voice is soft, as if his intentions are as well, but you’re sure he’ll destroy you. He will not put you back together, only break you down, collecting tiny pieces of you for his collection.

You consider it. You would never have to work again. You would never have to do anything again. You would never have to see your father again.

You turn your head, and nod.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll stay.” It wasn’t as if you had a choice in the matter. But nonetheless, He grins, and takes the necklace from you, only to wrap it around your neck, and clasp it on.

Despite the rings being something you had longed for, the ‘M’ alone weighs on you like a boulder.

He tilts your head gently, his fingers brushing against your chin, and you look away, ashamed of what you have done. He grabs your chin and keeps you looking at him. He leans forward and for a moment you just stay, feeling his hot breath against your lips. Tears escape from your eyes and run down your cheeks. He tuts softly and kisses your cheeks where the tears lie.

“Sh, Sh.. It’s okay, sweetheart,” he comforts. His other hand trails down to your thigh, where two of his fingers find the stab wound, and push into it. You whimper in pain, grasping his wrist. He sighs deeply, “Pretty noises.” He hums. “I would never deny you anything, bun. But if you deny me what I ask, it won’t end well for you. Understand?”

You nod, but when you aren’t verbal, he pushes down harder, the bandage and his fingers soaking with blood.

“Tell me. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand, Matt.” You manage to whimper out. He takes his fingers away and kisses your cheek.

“Good. Good job, honey.” He says softly, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and licking your blood off them. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

He leans forward and kisses you, and it’s full of a gentleness you weren’t sure he was capable of. You kiss back, afraid of what he’ll do if you deny him again.

He winds up kissing you to sleep, not mad at you for falling tired as you kiss. You lay with him in these silk sheets, freezing cold as you cuddle into him. He relishes being wanted. You accept that this is love. He feels you shivering and pulls you closer.

His hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tickling the bottom of your torso. You whine when he does this, burying your head in the crook of his neck. He laughs, kissing your head.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll buy you blankets. Blankets, Diamonds, anything you want.” He tells you. You’re tired. You just want to nap. You want him to give you more of the drugs that dull the pain of your thigh, and you want to eat something homemade that you didn’t cook yourself.

You want to give in and remain thoughtless. Just be happy with him since no one is looking for you anyways.

But as you drift off to sleep, feeling his hands crawl along your skin, you begin to plan. You’ll let him think you’re in love with him. You’ll let him love you, fuck you, put you back together. You’ll be his bunny, his arm candy, his toy to dress up and do whatever the fuck he wants. You’ll let him think he owns you.

He’ll know that he does.

And you’ll become close to his friends too. You’ll dress in pretty dresses, and he’ll pretend he’s oblivious to how much everyone wants you.

 And then, when your wounds heal, you’ll run.

You’ll flee the country, you’ll change your name, dye your hair.

But you don’t yet realize how relentless he is. How deeply enamored of you he is. By how determined he is to have you.

Escaping the devil will not be as easy as you think it might, not when he can hear your heartbeat, not when he can smell you, not when he wants you.

And it doesn’t help when he gives you the honor of killing your father.

That’s when you start to fall in love with him.