Do you ever just sit there and study someone?
How they sit
How they move
How their hair curls
How they breathe
How they fidget
How their nose does that cute twitchy thing sometimes
How they react to funny thing
Anonymous: I love this blog!! The fics are so cute and well written and I have a request if you are still accepting, if not that’s okay! Anyways, my request is Matt teaching reader how to fight at the old gym? Thank you so much for this blog :)
I loved this request. I don’t even know where my brain took me, but I kind of liked it lol. I hope you like it <3
Just so y'all know I have I think 12 requests right now (yayy), so I most likely got yours if you were unsure. I’ll try to get my act together soon XD I’m still a bit busy finishing up school and other stuff. Okay, I’ll stop rambling now.
1240 words. Enjoy xx (not my gif)
You entered the old gym at the break of dawn, the door creaking behind you as it shut. Matt was ahead of you, walking through the darkness towards the center of the room.
Your eyes were wide as you tried to see in the dark. “Where’s the light switch?” You asked, hoping he at least knew where that was.
“Oh, it’s, uh, over by the door on the wall,” he gestured towards where you came in while covering his hands with white wrapping.
You flipped the switch on, your eyes adjusting immediately to the dim lights overhead. Matt took off his glasses and held out his hand, his other holding the wrap. “Let’s wrap your hands first.”
He took your hands in his, wrapping them carefully and securely. “So, I really don’t know what I’m doing,” you said, staring at the punching bag hanging from the ceiling.
“Don’t worry,” he chuckled. When he finished, he squeezed your hands once and let go. “We’re going to start simple, and then I’ll show you some more defensive techniques, okay?”
You nodded, breathing out a quiet, “Yeah.” You stood in front of the punching bag with no knowledge of it whatsoever. Matt had probably used that thing so many times, but you didn’t even know where to place your feet let alone where to hit.
The other day, he told you he wanted to train you to fight. You readily agreed, having already planned to ask him to anyway. You had started to work out, but you had no idea how to fight or even defend yourself properly. Matt’s secret wasn’t a secret to you anymore, not since Foggy was talking a bit too loud on the phone in the office. And by talking, you meant shouting at Matt for getting himself injured again.
Matt had been your boyfriend for a few weeks already, although you’d known him for quite some time. You were shocked he had hid this large of a secret from you for as long as he did. You didn’t like that he hadn’t told you, so you planned to not speak to him for a while. Not long-you didn’t think you could last long without speaking to your boyfriend-just a day or two. Eight hours was apparently enough for Matt, because by then he was practically begging you to speak with him again.
You knew he was worried for you now that his enemies could come after you to get to him if they found out who you were. But if you were honest, and he would have had to agree, your relationship was much better off without the lies. Any relationship would be.
You were happier with him, that was for sure, and he was closer to you now. He made sure to be near you any second he could, perhaps because of his worry for you. Secret smiles, hand touches… The little things he did drove you crazy. And he knew it, too.
“Okay,” Matt stated, and you straightened up, looking at him and waiting for any kind of instruction. “Fighting stance; feet spread slightly apart, non dominant foot forward. There you go.”
So far, so good.
He guided your arms up next, “You know how this goes,” he smiled, “make a fist like you’re going to punch something. That’s what we’re here for.”
“I’m going to punch something, alright,” you grumbled. Matt laughed, ducking his face down towards the floor. Your hands came up near your head, and Matt guided your dominant hand more towards your face, making sure your thumb was curled under your fingers. You swallowed, focusing on keeping your hands where they were as he pulled away, missing his touch.
His hand suddenly landed on your shoulder gently. “Relax, Y/n.” Your muscles relaxed under his touch and you bent your knees slightly. “Good. Here,” his palm rested against your abdomen, and, Jesus, like there weren’t butterflies in your stomach already. “Keep your muscles tight.”
You did as you were told, clenching your teeth together. “Now what?”
Matt demonstrated how and where to hit the bag, with you following his every move. After about an hour of this, he stopped you. “You’re doing good, Y/n,” he praised. “That’s enough of this for today, we can work more on fighting next time.” He walked over to the large mats spread across the floor.
You took a deep breath, and drank some of your water. This was more exhausting than you thought it would be. But if it made him happy, you’d just push through. You walked over to him, “What’s next?”
“I want you to learn to defend yourself.”
You stood still where you were, watching as Matt came around behind you. You could still see him from out of the corner of your eye. “If someone grabs your arm, what would your first response be?” His hand lightly grabbed your arm, thumb resting on the inside of your elbow.
“Um,” you stuttered, “punch them in the face?” You shrugged. “Or kick them, y'know, where it hurts.”
He laughed, making you smile. “Alright. If you take the first approach,” he said pointedly, silently telling you that you weren’t actually going to do it, “then don’t just punch blindly. Aim for the throat or the eyes. That hurts and will make it easier to get free.”
You nodded. Matt moved more behind you, and you felt his chest barely pressing up against your back. You closed your eyes, trying to keep your heart rate steady. He wasn’t making this training session very easy for you, was he?
“What about a headlock? The person is standing behind you.”
You swallowed, “I don’t know.”
His head bent down closer to yours. He smelled like his cologne and sweat and minty toothpaste and just, him. You shut your eyes again, but there was no controlling your rapid heartbeat this time. “Well, you could elbow them in the gut, or move behind them and kick them behind the knee.”
Barely focusing at this point, a thought occurred to you, and your eyes shot open. “Matthew Michael Murdock-” you started accusingly, but he cut you off.
“What?” He backed away, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.
You turned around, wanting to wipe the smug smirk off his face. “You know what, you jerk. You’re doing this on purpose.”
He licked his lips, tilting his head and pulling off the innocent look that he did so well. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/n.”
You shook your head, walking up to him slowly. “You’re not making this whole training thing very easy. Not that I’m complaining, but…” Resting your hands on his chest, you felt his breathing falter, and you smiled to yourself. “I don’t think I’m making very much progress.” Your hands traveled up to his face, lightly tracing a cut on his cheekbone.
“Maybe we should stop for today,” he suggested, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer.
You hummed in agreement, tilting your head up and connecting your lips to his. You smiled into the kiss, knowing that he definitely tried to distract you on purpose. Well, it certainly worked.
summary: For an unknown reason to you, Ashton seems to just hate everything about you. And you could probably say the same thing about him. Until one day when you decide to finally get the truth out of him and then things take a really unexpected turn, leading to some of Ashton’s most well hidden secrets.
if you’ve been following me for a long time, you know i am the worst at summaries lol
has always been one of your favorites. You like painting and drawing, it’s
one of your biggest passions. Although, since the beginning of high school, it
hasn’t been at the top of your list of favorite things to attend. There is only
one person that can actually take away the passion you have for art from you, and that
is none other than Ashton Irwin. You two have never liked each other. Thinking
about it, you don’t really have a clue why, he just always throws you these
dirty looks and rude remarks every time he gets the chance, so to say he doesn’t
like you is pretty obvious.
You share only one class together and it so happens that the teacher seated you two next
to each other. And lucky you, it’s art class, one of the only ones you
actually enjoy attending. But ever since you had to share a seat next to
Ashton, all of the fun in art kind of faded away. He never does anything the
teacher asks him to, never even touches a pencil or a brush. He is a
really weird kid, going against the rules probably thinking he’s cool, but he
really isn’t. He is going to fail at something as easy as art, only because
he’s being stubborn.
if the first time he says he loves you sounds more like an apology than a confession, run.
tell him you’ve heard it better in the way the trees speak with their leaves, in the way the earth sings to its undergrowth. tell him you’ve heard it better in the sky and the clouds just after it rains, just after everything is born again.
tell him you are full of far too much love for yourself to be loved like he’s sorry for you. to be loved like holding a broken thing. like every time he kisses you it tastes like regret, like the morning-afters are all bitter with it. tell him all the places your bones show are battle-scars. that you’ve fought wars for this type of love. that you’ve forgotten what it was like to be tame.
tell him you’ve found lionesses under your skin. tell him they won’t rest for mediocre things.
Reena B. | Tell him you want a greater type of love, a love without apologies.