description: you were professor murdock's favorite student. two words, one slip of the tongue, leads you to be something more.
word count: 8k
warnings: teacher/student relationship, smut, choking, reader has a praise kink, slight posession kink, fucking in public (matt's office), matt murdock deserves his own warning
So, with that evidence, he would be...." Matt paused, waiting for someone in the class to chime in with the answer.
But he was met with silence.
"Anyone? C'mon guys, you know this," Matt hounded the class as he paced around the front of the lecture hall, waiting for someone to speak up. He listened close for signs of people at least trying to figure out the answer. An uptick in heart rate, the fluttering of paper, anything. But he came up with nothing; just steady heartbeats and constant breaths. Just his luck to get the late lecture slot on Friday night, half the class didn't even bother to show up. The half that did was usually either on their phones, or half asleep.
Except for you, of course.
You were chewing on the end of your pen, something you always did when you were focused. He had gotten to know your little tics over the past few weeks; you fiddled with your rings when nervous, bounced your leg when taking notes, and, his personal favorite, you smiled when he said your name.
"Miss Y/N?"
He heard the small intake of breath, the drop of a pen. Then, his favorite sound: the slow rise of the muscles in your cheeks, the flush of blood to your face. Smiling and blushing; all for him. He bit his lip in an attempt to hide his own reaction. He just couldn't help it, not when it came to you.
Matt was no stranger to the effect he had on people, particularly his students. He had been teaching a law class at Columbia for a few years now, and he was used to the way his students talked about him. He knew he was attractive, being dubbed the 'hot professor,' and by now he had come to expect the flirty comments and attempts to 'earn a better grade.' It was part of his job, at this point: he'd give them a small smile, tell them he wasn't interested. And that was the truth, he never was interested, especially not in a student.
Until it came to you.
The first day of class, you stumbled a few minutes late, muttering apologies as you found a seat in the front of the class. Matt was immediately enamored by your voice, the way you said his name that first day sent shivers down his spine. The sweet, soft spoken, "Professor Murdock" made him ache, ache for you. Which was something he was not expecting. He hadn't been this attracted to someone since Elektra, and he hadn't even spoken to you yet. Over the weeks, he had become even more enamored with you, with your intellect, your kindness, your... everything.
And he hated it.
University rules clearly stated students and professors could not engage in any type of relationship that wasn't professional. Until the student left the professor's roster, they were extremely off limits. Engaging in a relationship with a student, especially a sexual one, would cost him his job. He'd have to wait until you weren't in his class to tell you how he felt. There was still a month left in the semester, a month till he could do anything. It was a weird, twisted form of torture: he loved having you in class, loved hearing your voice, but hated that he couldn't have more.
And God, forgive him, but he wanted more.
As much as he hated to admit it often found himself most nights in his office, hand down his pants, picturing you beneath him, writhing in pleasure. He often regretted it right after he finished, having these thoughts for someone who was his student. He couldn't help it. He knew it was wrong, him liking you was wrong. Him having these thoughts about you was wrong. Not being able to get off unless he was thinking of you was wrong.
