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bellaxgiornata · 1 year ago

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Under the Weather

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: 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.

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

a/n: Yet another little fluffy fic for Mandy's Sweater Weather Challenge by the lovely @she-likesorchids! Can you tell I had to make sure all my boys got a fic? This one was for the prompt "Let's just stay in bed." Feedback is always appreciated!

Finally finished with the after dinner cleanup, you washed your hands in the kitchen sink, the pounding of the rain outside the apartment a persistent backdrop to the evening. As you turned off the faucet and reached over to grab the towel from the nearby hook, you heard the bedroom door slide open. Glancing up from your place at the sink as you dried your hands, you spotted Matt exiting the bedroom dressed in his black suit, his black mask on his head but not yet pulled down over his face. You frowned at the sight of him, eyes focusing back on the windows covered in rainfall as the light from the billboard across the street flooded through them, coating the living room in a dark blue.

Focusing back on Matt, you hung up the towel before you began to make your way through the kitchen towards him. You noticed how he'd stopped mid-step on his way to the stairs leading to the roof access as you walked, his head shifting over his shoulder towards you.

"Matt," you said, tone lightly chastising.

It didn’t escape your notice how he'd instantly stiffened at the sound of your voice. You could also tell by the way his shoulders were slightly slumped forward and the faint red tinge visible on his nose that he still felt a bit under the weather. But of course, Matthew being Matthew, he apparently was still planning to go out. You should have known as much.

"Maybe you should stay in tonight," you suggested carefully, eyeing the thin material of his shirt as the rain only continued to dump onto the roof of the apartment. "You know, like we talked about earlier? At dinner?"

He turned fully towards you, straightening his back as his sightless gaze landed on your chest. His eyes narrowed a bit and you knew he was about to pretend the big bad Devil wasn't sick, but the faint sniffle from his stuffed up nose ruined whatever effect he thought he was about to have on you.

“I’m fine, sweetheart," he told you.

His voice was a little distorted because of the congestion and you scoffed immediately. Crossing your arms over your chest, you quirked a brow at him.

"You're sick, Matt," you pointed out. "You need rest. You said yourself earlier that nothing was going on tonight in Hell’s Kitchen. So stay in and take care of yourself. You'll be no help to anyone in the city if something actually happens and you're even sicker."

Matt shook his head at you, that stubborn expression still on his face. Of course he wasn't going to listen. He was going to ignore what he needed to do for himself for the sake of the people of Hell’s Kitchen, and as much as you loved and admired that about him, he really needed to learn one of these days that he was still only human. He needed to take care of himself.

But getting that through his head was damn near impossible.

"I don't get sick," he countered, voice still noticeably off. "I’m completely fine, sweetheart. I'm just going out for a bit to keep an eye on things. You don't need to wait up for me."

“Matt, it’s barely above freezing outside right now!” you exclaimed, throwing a hand towards the living room window. “And it’s raining . Ten degrees less and that would be snow right now! What you're wearing isn't even remotely warm. You’re going to make yourself incredibly sick if you go running around rooftops tonight dressed in that !”

Matt’s lips drew into a devilish smirk, a smug expression overtaking his features. The look might have had the desired effect on you if he hadn’t sniffled loudly yet again, his red nose scrunching up as he did.

“You like this suit,” he countered.

“No,” you said, holding up a hand as you corrected him. “I like how you look in this suit, Matt. I absolutely hate how little protection it offers for knives, baseball bats, and cold weather. There’s a massive difference.”

“I’ll be just fine,” he assured you.

Matt reached a hand up, pulling his mask down until it covered his face, leaving only his lips and chin visible. The gesture was meant to end the conversation, you were aware of that. Sighing in exasperation, you rolled your eyes at him. You knew damn well he was going to be miserable come morning.

“We all know you’re just going to do what you want anyway,” you grumbled, crossing the rest of the way over towards him. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t need you bleeding out and sick later.”

“I’m not sick,” he countered immediately.

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek, just below the black fabric of his mask. “Sure you’re not, babe. I’ll remember that when you’re clinging to me tomorrow and complaining about how awful you feel.”

You could tell by the way his lips pursed and the fabric had shifted along his face that he was shooting you an irritated look. The corner of your own mouth quirked up into a smirk. You’d seen Matt sick a couple of times before and he was always absolutely desperate for physical comfort–though you figured with his heightened senses, being sick felt a whole lot worse to him. And you figured it probably muted his usual ability to navigate the world as he was used to, especially with a stuffed up nose affecting his sense of smell.

“I do not get clingy ,” he disagreed with obvious distaste.

“Whatever you say, Matty,” you replied, lightly patting him on the arm.

You turned, making your way over towards the leather couch. If Matt was going to run around outside in the equivalent of tissue paper while he was sick, you were going to relax and watch some television while being smart and not going outside in the freezing autumn rain.

“I do not get clingy!” he stated again.

Abruptly he turned, storming his way over towards the staircase. You settled into the cushions of the couch with a shake of your head.

“Alright, you don’t get clingy when you’re sick,” you told him.

As you picked up the television remote from the coffee table, you saw Matt had paused yet again at the sound of your voice. Head turning just over his shoulder, cocked a bit to the side, you didn’t miss the deep frown spreading over his lips.

“You didn’t mean that,” he pointed out, tapping a gloved hand to his ear. “I could hear your heart.”

Rolling your eyes playfully at him, you flashed him a grin before you focused on the television across the room. “Of course I didn’t,” you told him, turning on the TV. “Because you do get clingy when you’re sick.”

Matt rumbled out a noise of frustration, stalking his way up the stairs and towards the roof access without another word. He obviously knew he wasn’t winning this argument with you. You began scanning through the channels, looking for a fall baking show to watch as he pulled the door open, the sound of the rain outside briefly louder until the door closed with a sharp clang after him. Shaking your head again, you finally settled on what you were looking for.

“You’re going to be so miserable in the morning,” you muttered under your breath, aware he could still hear you.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Something ice cold landed on your bare stomach and your eyes immediately snapped open, the chill pulling you straight from your sleep. A miserable, muffled groan met your ears over the sound of light rain pattering outside as your barely conscious mind tried to quickly piece everything together.

You were in bed with Matt curled up against the back of you. Apparently it was his icy cold hand on your stomach that had woken you. He shifted behind you, his frigid hand on your bare stomach drawing you further towards him just before he buried his face against the back of your neck. You shivered at how cold he felt against you–Matt was usually a furnace who kept you warm.

“Matt, you’re freezing,” you whispered, trying to glance over your shoulder at him.

“I know,” he groaned, pulling himself in tighter to the back of you. “You’re so warm, though.”

You frowned immediately at the thick, congested sound of his voice. He sounded far worse than he had last night. And that was the only thing keeping you from your usual reaction to Matt’s nearly naked body wrapped so tight around yours.

“You’re sick,” you pointed out.

He groaned again, shaking his head against the back of your neck. “Don’t say it,” he begged, his voice almost a whine. "Don't even say it, sweetheart."

Sighing at his plea for you to not rub the consequences of his actions in his face, your hand dropped down to cover the one he had on your stomach. You did your best attempting to warm it up, rubbing your hand back and forth across his large one. Matt hummed out a pleased noise in response, the sound quite nasally.

“Fine, but you’re sick, Matt,” you pointed out. “I need to take your temperature. See what medicine we still have in the apartment for you to take because I might need to run to the store." You paused when he pitifully moaned in protest at that. "And you’re not going into the office to help Foggy with that thing this morning. I’ll call him myself. Him and Karen can handle things on their own. You need rest.”

“Only if you stay with me,” he murmured, his arm tightening around your waist. “You’re so warm and comfortable. Don't want you to go. Let's just stay in bed .”

Clearing your throat, you pitched your voice lower as you grinned and said, “I’m not clingy, sweetheart.”

Matt groaned again, burying his face further into your neck. “ Not funny,” he muttered.

“Maybe to you,” you countered, still grinning, “but I think it’s quite pertinent.” Patting the back of his hand that was holding you firmly to the front of himself, you said, "I need to get up, Matty. Need to call Fog for you and find the thermometer. And check the medicine cabinet to see what we have. Maybe make us both some hot tea while I'm up."

You felt the way he shook his head once again against you, muttering out a noise of disagreement. He began shifting behind you in the bed, soon tossing one of his legs over the top of both of yours. It was so easy to forget how muscular and powerful Matt was sometimes because you were so used to seeing him walking around the apartment in barely anything most of the time, his muscles often on display. But his single leg was solid and heavy , easily trapping you beneath the weight of it as he refused to release his hold on you and let you up.

" Matt !" you laughed out, reaching your hand down to playfully swat his thigh. "I'm trying to help you!"

"No. Don't want it," he muttered, words muffled against your skin. " Mine ," his congested voice nearly purred as he curled possessively around you.

Your eyes widened in surprise, another little laugh falling out of you. That was new.

"Matt, I at least need to call Fog and get your temperature–you're positively freezing," you told him. "Let me help you. Please?"

He grumbled discontentedly in response, not making any attempt to move. You shifted as best as you could in his restricting embrace, trying to get a look at him.

" Please ?" you tried again, drawing the word out.

It was a moment before he released a resigned sigh beside your ear, his warm breath brushing over your shoulder a sharp contrast to his cold skin pressed against you.

"Will you come back to bed after?" he asked. "Stay with me?"

"If that's what you want, I can stay with you for a bit longer this morning," you relented. "But only after I get all of that done."

Matt hummed out a noise of disagreement, shaking his head. "Uh uh," he mumbled. "I'll give you ten minutes."

You laughed once again, unable to help yourself. "Excuse me? You'll give me ten minutes?" you asked him. "What happens if I take longer than that?"

Gradually he drew his thick thigh from off the top of you, his cold hand retreating from your stomach soon after. Your brows briefly furrowed before he gave your ass a light, unexpected smack. Instantly your eyes widened in shock at the gesture.

"The Devil will bring you back to bed," he warned.

That familiar dark, gravelly tone of his was hard to miss, even with how congested he sounded. A jolt of something shot through you at his threat, the hair on the back of your neck raising. Matt rumbled out a noise behind you in response to your body's reaction.

"Better hurry," he teased. "Time is running out, sweetheart."

Tossing the covers off of yourself, you climbed out of bed and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. Though as you headed to the bathroom to check the medicine cabinet and grab the thermometer, you admittedly found yourself curious about what a sick Devil might do to you if you took too long.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #mandy's sweater weather challenge #matt murdock #daredevil

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catholic-character-tournament · 2 years ago

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Round 1 - Side B

Propaganda below ⬇️

Matt

Matt's faith in the show is really important and well explored; one of the first scenes of the show is Matt going to confession (or, well, talking to his priest since he's not really confessing at that point). Matt struggles a lot with what he's supposed to do; everyone's telling him to kill the villain and he kinda wants to, but he literally says: "I know my soul is damned if I take his life". He struggles with his faith and goes with his doubts to his priest, and it's beautiful—also when he finally gets a costume for his vigilanteing he chooses to dress as the devil, lol. (His priest tells him that nothing makes people run to Church faster than the feeling of having the devil on their heels.)

a lot of the show is about how he justifies his vigilante actions with his faith, and whether he's doing the right thing in trying to help people or just using it as an outlet for his anger. the literal first scene of the show has him in a confession booth talking to his priest (who is a really interesting character too). this is not the scene I was talking about but it's such an excellent scene with matt talking to his priest: https://youtu.be/XHZ3NbEIDdw

canonically catholic but dresses like a demon to be quirky

honestly i dont wanna type too much but i feel that matt is a great example of someone who battles with his faith because he rarely loses his faith but rather fights with why he was made the way he was and put through what he was. He believes himself to have the devil inside him but believes that God put him there

ok in the comics barring the most current run matt has Mostly been a non-practicing Catholic that very rarely actually does any catholic Activities but ends up falling back into the Mindset and very occasionally dramatically taking confession (ex. in that one issue where he takes confession, basically tells the father that he is uniquely terrible and is thinking about violently murdering someone and when the father says "you can be forgiven" hes like "AUGFH-- NO!!!!!!!!!!" and runs out) when he's gone through some shit. and i love that its so relatable

hello its me cct organizer. i have to come clean, i made this tournament because i need matt to win something. i dont think hell win the sadboy and he lost the ginger tournament and >:( hes my favoritest guy ever. Also @ who said he has religious trauma is wrong and i will fight u about it (nicely) on my main @usaigi

This guy so catholic he spends an ungodly amount of time just chilling in the church. And goes there whenever there is a moral conundrum about killing people being Bad even though it would solve a lot of problems and stop said people from killing other people. This happens every other episode. Matt is the Catholic Guilt Guy. There's actually a lot of catholic stuff in the show as a whole. Just a compilation would be like three whole episodes long.

Hes great hes catholic enough to not outrught murder people but not catholic enough to not fuck before marriage hes a bisexual disaster at all times hes besties with a priest might i add hes great hes my special little guy

his catholicism is a huge piece of his characterisation he was raised by nuns in a catholic orphanage, the first scene we ever see him (as an adult and not a flashback) is him going to confession, he is good friend with his priest and has regular debates with him, etc also in s3 he has a huge crisis of faith after he lost A Lot where he stops believing for a while and it's linked to his identity crisis where he actually wants to kill another person (a hard line he previously chose never to cross) and wants to be only daredevil and not matt murdock, when he is both and needs both to exist also when he was a kid his grandmother used to say "watch out for the murdock boys, they've got the devil in them" and it created a surprising lot of his issues

So he's both catholic in the comics and the show but he's More Catholic in the show. Like, raised in a catholic orphanage by nuns (ONE OF WHICH IS HIS *MOTHER*), second scene in the show has him in a confession box kind. Matt Murdock goes out and gets the shit beaten out of him nightly and also beats the shit out of other people and purposefully leaned into devil iconography as his theme. When his nurse friend says, he takes a lot of punishment without one complaint he says "That part's the Catholicism." It is a Core Aspect of his character (at least in the show). He makes me insane. Also the same chemicals that blinded him created the teenage mutant ninja turtles and everyone should know that.

They went to confession to a priest who they had saved as their costumed counterpart and the guy recognized them by the voice, proving that it's possible and everyone else is just dumb

he takes "i wanna fight god" to new and incredibly violent levels, while also being a sweetheart and a goofball

Actually strictly WILL NOT kill criminals. Goes wayyy out of his way to avoid it. Fights with the Punisher about it. Goes to confession booth after nightly vigilante excursions. Feels so much guilt. "How have you been holding up?" "Like a good Caltholic boy" "that bad huh" - actual conversation with his priest

So Daredevil struggles with his mission as a crime fighter because killing criminals goes against his faith. He makes it a point to not kill criminals, believing that even bad people deserve a second chance. This philosophy puts him at odds against The Punisher, who is a relentless killer. As a Catholic myself, while I love the concept of a morally conflicted superhero, I think the worldbuilding around Daredevil is lacking. If he struggles with violence and killing, why doesn't he pray to warrior saints like Saint Michael, Saint Ignatius of Loyola (a former knight), or Saint Joan of Arc? Why isn't there a community of other Catholics he can turn to for guidance, considering New York City has a sizeable population of Catholics? And why are the churches he goes to always empty? Doesn't he know that the Catholic Church supports the just war theory? I think that would have made his burden more bearable.

He goes to church and confesses to punching people and says "imma do it again can i apologize in advance" and the father dude says "no you're meant to stop now" and Matt says "no" and they do this everyday. I'm not remembering it properly but this is a canon interaction i swear

HELLO HI YES I LOVE HIM AND WILL INFOR DUMP ok so. he is a vigalantty and he got named daredevil and he is an orphan and after the age of 12 was raised in an orphanage at a Catholic church and his therapist is his priest via confession abd. also his mother is a nun he has a whole mental breakdown over god and called Job a pussy because he liked god until he got better and liked god again he said "I'm dearedrvil and not even god can stop that now" and he's so cool

matt is a freakish little babygirl who was raised by nuns and definitely has religious trauma. i hate him so much (affectionately)

he’s literally fucking insane about it i don’t know what to say here. he thinks he’s chosen by god to go on some sort of holy quest to save hell’s kitchen. joan of arc ass.

i already know hes in by default j just wanted to give him a personal shout out i love this angsty catholic dweeb

how practicing he is depends on the run, but in my favorite he is quite literally confessing to a member of the last extant order millitant who happens to be a priest at a church in hells kitchen.

i love him for having the funniest version of a trope i usually hate (person gets into confession booth and asks forgiveness not for what they've done, but for what they're about to do). usually this trope just looks silly to me bc like. the priest would just say "i can't do that" and you would have to either awkwardly explain yourself or just Leave. it's funny when matt does it because fr. lantom is probably like "what are you gonna do???" and matt's like "lol. lmao. 😊 hehehe." anyway we love this angry catholic man who dresses up like the devil to beat people up in hell's kitchen

Harrowhark

I'm pretty sure you've already got plenty of submissions for her so I'll just say she was raised in what is basically a cult (technically a nunnery but let's be real) dedicated to keeping the body of the thing that will kill God behind the rock. One of their prayers is actually "I pray the rock is never rolled away". Harrow is extremely devout as penance for her earlier heretical actions in the tomb as a child (spoiler!) so the Catholic guilt really comes through

imagine being a catholic nun and you meet god, but it turns out he’s a twitch streamer from new zealand who became god because everything got a little bit out of hand. and just before you met him you gave yourself a diy grief-fuelled lobotomy with the help of your best frenemy. imagine how insane you’d be. now multiply that insanity by nine. that’s the fictional love of my life right there.

she meets god. she’s not inspired

she’s number one practitioner of space Catholicism. The locked tomb is chock full of Christian (catholic) imagery themes metaphors etc. just look at her she’s got a bone rosary

They're Catholicism with extra bones. Everyone is a nun. They have what is basically a rosary made from knuckle bones. They technically worship the same God as everyone else, but they're waaaay more focused on The Body in the Tomb (Mary) and we get a moment where we find out that while everyone else prays the equivilent of The Lords Prayer, they're doing the equivilent of Hail Mary. And they paint their faces with skulls.

She thinks leaving dry bread in a drawer is taking care of someone. She's in love with a 10,000 year old corpse (the same one they worship). She spent ALL NIGHT digging with her bare hands to make sure a field had bones every 5 feet so she could fight her girlfriend - I mean, greatest enemy. Spoiler territory: She's been puppeting her parents corpses since she was 8 years old. Instead of grieving her dead girlfriend, she gives herself a lobotomy. She makes soup with bone in it so she can use the bone IN THEIR STOMACH to try and kill them.

The author is/was Catholic and the entire series had heavy Catholic overtones. https://www.tor.com/2020/08/19/gideon-the-ninth-young-pope-and-the-new-pope-are-building-a-queer-catholic-speculative-fiction-canon/ A good breakdown of how it's Catholic

#matt murdock #daredevil #marvel #Harrowhark Nonagesimus #The Locked Tomb #cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls

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amazingmaeve · 2 years ago

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matt murdock fic recommendations

I know that this was already uploaded ages ago but the link that it was really weird and I couldn’t edit it so I just thought about redoing it and putting them here. also some won’t be on here because the link isn’t working and I couldn’t find it.

anyways these are fics that I just love and adore and deserve all the praise and attention they get. so you should totally give them all the likes and comments because the authors sure as hell deserve it.

also what i interpret things as fluff/angst might be different to other people and it's just an opinion based.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/smut

a slow day by @solemnly-mischievous god it’s just so good and the writing is just *chefs kiss* no other words than amazing!

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/a smidge of angst

sleepless nights by @carters-things it’s just so amazing and great I love the boys of angst followed up by fluff and it will always be one of my favorite fics for matt.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/smut/little angst

nighttime activities by @crazyxshit can feel the angst in this and it is so good that I would love to read it for the first time again because it’s so amazing. so if you hadn’t read it do it now.

ೃ⁀➷ angst/smut/teeny fluff

spawn ii by @elsolario it’s an au obviously and I love it because it is the devil!matt and it’s so great and it is executed so perfectly. it’s just so good and I recommend everyone should read it. (18 up of course)

ೃ⁀➷ angst/smut/kinda dark

blasphemy by @spencer-van-sunshine so it’s an au again I just love au and it’s a priest!matt au and it’s so good and the author is amazing. as the author states it has some dub con elements so if you aren’t comfortable with than you shouldn’t read it.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/smut

im gonna ruin you by @aimerriarkle as the other fics listed here it is amazing and I love reading it, it just gives my stomach the butterflies.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/smut

zip and rewind by @clints-lucky-arrow it’s just so steamy and I love it. the authors amazing and it’s written so beautifully. it’s just ugghhh these are the fics with the writing that i have strive to have.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff

heartbeats by @clints-lucky-arrow it’s just so fucking fluffy and I love it, I love pregnancy fics even though right at the moment I can’t even see my self with a child. idk why I just love these types of fics so much.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff

moving in by @darling-i-read-it matt is just…… a bit of a mess in this fic and you know what I don’t blame him, and it’s just amazing and I love it.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/smut/teeny bits of angst

the devil of hell’s kitchen by @arahxdjarin there are multiple fics that I love that have the reader basically being matt’s personal nurse and this is one of these. it’s so fluffy with sprinkles of angst and smut it’s just too good.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/smut

stress by @stranger-nightmare amazing, beautifully written a piece of art that should be praised til the end of times. so good and I recommend everyone who is of age to read it.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/angst

the defense rests by @dameronology love the fics where they have to hide their relationship and this one of them and as said before I love it.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff

new case by @darling-i-read-it spoilers for spider-man no way home and let me tell you I got so excited for the fic while reading the synopsis because I had seen the movie and loved it. but it’s amazing. the fic and the movie of course. but if you hadn’t watched the movie watch it first.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/smut/angst

let me hear you by @stranger-nightmare it’s just such a comfort fic for me. comfort fluff, comfort angst, and comfort smut and i love reading it when I’m in my feelings because it always perks my mood up.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/smidge of angst

bad dream by @ola-elaina another comfort fic that just makes my heart flutter every-time I read it and it never fail to make me happy.

ೃ⁀➷ smut

stress relief by @fluffyprettykitty i LOVE dom matt fics and this one of many examples of those fics and it’s amazing.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff

heartbeat by @darling-i-read-it another fic where the reader is pregnant and matt finds out through his hearing. i love this fic as much as the other one and they’re not the same fic obviously but nonetheless you should just read it.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff

flirting at work by @pastafossa more tooth rotting fluff and god it’s good and foggys there and he is annoyed at the two and if you were in his shoes probably wouldn’t blame him. such a cute fic.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff

up against the wall kiss by @pastafossa it’s such a trope but it’s an amazing way at writing a trope that I adore so so much and it’s sfw so just go and read it if you like matt murdock fics.

ೃ⁀➷ smut/teeny fluff

no sympathy from the devil by @write-orflight it’s kinda enemies to lovers and set in the college time. just so good and great I love enemies to lovers when done right and it’s done so right here since they’re still kinda enemies.

ೃ⁀➷ angst/fluff

running red by @titan-sl8yer it’s such a role reversal where the reader gets attacked and matt has to clean her up and it’s amazing it’s just amazing.

ೃ⁀➷ smut/fluff

overworked by @writingdumpster this fic is just matt being a good boyfriend and the reader is just trying her best to get her work done and I love it.

ೃ⁀➷ smut/fluff

what’s your middle name by @thegingerwriter there’s a lot of humor in this that makes it even greater than it already was and it’s just the reader guessing matt’s middle name.

ೃ⁀➷ smut

justice is blind by @lovelybucky1 friends with benefits is another trope that i absolutely love and adore and this is again one of these fics and read it please if you’re of again obviously

ೃ⁀➷ smut

nsfw alphabet by @lovelybucky1 self explanatory and I always love these ones so please give it a good ole read.

ೃ⁀➷ smut/kinda fluffy

far from innocent by @singledadharrington as said before love dom matt murdock and this fic is just full of it so if you’re 18+ and love dom matt murdock smut this is the fic for you.

ೃ⁀➷ angst/fluff

fleeing moments by @titan-sl8yer god it’s just so fluffy with some angst that melts my heart every time I read it. amazing.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff

morning after by @spideyhexx this fic is the epitome of fluff and matt murdock and if you want to read all that good stuff don’t look any further it’s right here.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/smut

woman ii by @petertingle-yipyip there’s so much flirting and teasing in these fics that make my heart skip a beat. and they’re ugghhh so amazing.

ೃ⁀➷ smut

client calls by @clints-lucky-arrow a lot of teasing matt in this one and it’s great I love it.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/teeny angst

the seven stages of matt murdocks jealousy by @alrighty-matty this one is amazing because I usually fics of the reader being the jealous one and it’s swapped here and I love it and I’ll always love a jealous matt.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/smut

I know you wanna go to heave but you’re human tonight by @2-fast-2-curious husband matt this time and with a breeding kink it’s great and paired with so much fluff and I can’t help but to love it.

ೃ⁀➷ smut

idle hands by @beyondspaceandstars just pure smut and as before I love matt murdock smut and I can’t help but to read every time I see it.

ೃ⁀➷ smut/angst/fluff

not again by @mvtthewmurdvck exes to lovers not a very appreciated trope and one I love and I think I love a lot of tropes fyi. it’s angsty but with a happy ending which I personally love.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff/smut(?)

the girl next door by @deceitfuldevil the reason of the question mark is due to masturbation that’s why I put that here but most of the fic is just fluff and it’s amazing.

ೃ⁀➷ smut

devilish by @foli-vora it’s a lot of teasing and smut which I personally love and this something that every matt murdock lover above the age of 18 should read.

ೃ⁀➷ smut

distractions by @milf-murdock movie night to fucking is an amazing plot ugh.

ೃ⁀➷ angst/fluff

sick twisted fantasy ii by @multiharlot it’s so angsty but with fluff and a happy ending and it’s also a fic where it doesn’t end up blaming karen. I know confusing just read it please.

ೃ⁀➷ angst/fluff

fragile by @devils-dares so angsty where matt needs a hug and he gets some comforting.

ೃ⁀➷ fluff

matching pairs by @peachiswritingg I love, love it when authors write love languages and this the matt murdock version of that and it’s so adorable.

#matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fic #matt murdock #matt murdock x original character #matt murdock fic recommendations #fic recommendations

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starkenobi · 2 days ago

Text

Demonic Domination | MASTERLIST

masterlist

Sumary: Y/N doesn't classify herself as a vigilante or, as people on the internet say, an antihero. No, she's just an occult detective with a fucking amnesia trying to create a new life beyond her secret mutant status. At first, she really tried to keep a normal civilian life, but it's difficult when you're rescued from a dark place by a man dressed as a mummy ninja calling himself Moon Knight. So, anyway, working as an occult detective makes her travel around the world, and it's cool because it gives her a lot of stories... Until her feet touch New York's ground. It's all downhill from there.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader; Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: +18 romance; angst; fluff; smut; violence; torture; gore; cursing; not following 100% mcu events; feelings. English isn't my first language, so please be kind. chapters have their own warnings, too, for safety.

MAIN STORY CHAPTERS (coming january)

1] Lo Hecho Esta Hecho | on a rainy night, y/n is rescued by moon knight, and for a while, london becomes her home. but no one can really escape fate, not when your former lover is death herself.

2] Nuns on Cocaine | maybe traveling around the world solving cases and dealing with cryptids isn't that bad, unfortunately someone decided that was a great idea to play around with the occult and scientific shit, now y/n needs to clean some superheroes' mess.

3] Boss Bitch | y/n isn't one to be intimidated. yes, her memory is shit and she can't really explain her knowledge, but she knows how things go. she can deal with vigilantes, their work similar to hers, there's no glamour or riches. but fuck superheroes and their super shit, y'know? even if they're hot and gorgeous as fuck.

4] Voulez-Vous? | there's an expectation in the air, a tension that's not only about want or need. of course, there's a fricking bomb and a targed on her back. if only she could remember why. at least she has the devil on her side.

5] Seal It With a Kiss | a crush, a casual fling, a passionate night, a you're made for me, a can't lose you now, a maybe im already falling in love. but y/n will deny it till the end. she's not going soft. she'll lie through her teeth, but a promise is a promise, even if you don't say the words out loud.

6] Murder On The Dance Floor | she should have seen it coming. of course, nothing is that simple. she's not jealous of their past, but she can't ignore the feeling of trying to keep up with them. she's stuck in the middle. now isn't fun anymore.

7] People Disappear Here | she knows every one of them has a terrible past (and ghosts), but this chaotic dirty nightmare is hers, so fuck it. she's going swinging it like the devil. maybe it's time to finally be the boring grown-up.

8] No Good Deed Goes Unpunished | her past officially came like a wrecking ball, nowhere to run or hide. with her memories back, she wishes everything was different. and then there's the most important question: how much does a life cost? she doesn't know, she can't fucking die.

platonic: tony stark; steve rogers; clint barton; frank castle; moon knight boys.

others characters: bruce banner; yelena belova; kate bishop; thor; scott lang; wanda maximoff; pepper potts; peter parker; stephen strange; fury; maria hill.

#natasha romanoff x reader #bucky barnes x reader #matt murdock x reader #black widow x reader #winter soldier x reader #daredevil x reader #marvel reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mutant!reader #bisexual characters #moon knight x reader #tony stark x reader #y/n constantine #starkenobi writing

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ithebookhoarder · 10 months ago

Note

Marc and Steven with a Murdock? Like Daredevil?? If you want, of course ❤️🖤

The Moon Boys with a Murdock!Reader

A/N: Of course I want to! 😆 I'm only sorry it took me so long to answer this. However, I seem to be on a roll today - I can't believe I've got two requests out?! Like, who even am I?

Masterlist

As you said with a Murdock, I’m going with a sibling vibe here which would be pretty adorable anyway as Matt would be such a good brother if he’d ever had the chance.

He would be incredibly close with you and take his role as your protector as seriously as he takes his role as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

You’re the only one he lets know his true self as you’ve been through everything he has. You’ve shared the happiest and saddest moments of your lives together and the bond it forged is as strong as vibranium.

It holds you both together, not matter what you go through or where you end up - including when you both end up at colleges on opposite sides of the country.

You’re extremely careful to never let him pull too far away from you, even when he gets in one of his moods. In fact, you’re sure to turn up and let yourself in to his apartment when he goes too quiet and even Foggy can’t seem to pull him out of the darkness that haunts him.

It’s why you don’t run away when the Moon Boys come crashing in to your lives. The chaos that seems to follow them and their fears that they are too much for you is honestly familiar. Every attempt to push you away only makes you draw nearer - first as a friend, later as something more.

You’d probably meet Moon Knight first around New York. I mean, it's kind of hard not to come across him, given what Matt does and how chaos seems to find its way into your lives.

He'd be the latest adoptee into the Defenders / New York 'Avengers reject club' (your name for the gang, not theirs...) so you'd quickly end up involved in each other's lives.

You'd bond pretty quickly, once you get to know one another without the personas and danger. After all, I think Steven would be eager to find friends who aren't necessarily supers and just like to drink coffee, read novels and go to the dog park at the weekend.

He'd be super keen to get to know you. You're one of the only people who get what their life is like, but also have a foot in the real world.

You'd win over Marc later on, wearing him down with your positivity and unwavering optimism (and also Steven will not shut up about you).

You're not afraid of the darker parts of their world, and become a much needed safe space for Marc, once he lets his guard down.

For instance, you'd be great at patching him up - having had enough practise on Matt over the years. You're also used to having someone nocturnal in the house, coming and going at all hours of the night. Plus, you can obviously be trusted to keep a secret or two.

If anything, Marc's only reluctant to let you get close to him as he doesn't want to taint you. To ruin something so bright and wonderful by dragging you into his darkness.

If Matt's ok with putting you in danger, then that's up to him as your brother. You're family. But for Marc and Steven to do that? It's a line they're unwilling to cross... until you prove to them you aren't going anywhere. That you can handle yourself and that you're already in this mess anyway, so why shouldn't you both be happy?

From that moment on, there's no looking back for any of you. You're leaping in to this together head first, and soon enough you can't imagine life any other way.

Matt, however, can.

Let's be real, he wouldn’t be the biggest fan of Steven and Marc. In fact, he’d be pretty against your relationship the minute he finds out about it.

One, because he thinks no one is worthy of you.

Two, because he hates the idea of you getting hurt or being in danger and being in a relationship with multiple people who all serve an ancient Egyptian deity as his personal vigilante is the very definition of dangerous.

"I... I can't even begin to understand how you could possibly think this is a good idea? At all? He - they - are literally the puppets of an Egyptian god - a GOD, Y/N. You don't want to get in the middle of all that?"

You quickly remind him how he gave a similar speech to Karen when he found out about her and Frank Castle seeing each other, and that didn't work. Last time you checked, they're still blissfully in love.

"Besides, Matthew! You're the one who goes running around at night, getting in fights, wearing a glorified halloween costume. Like, I am the SANE sibling here. ALSO! Marc and Steven were forced into their situation. They didn't go looking for it like a crazy nut job. So, yeah. I think if anything, you don't have a leg to stand on here!"

Matt would be able to sense who was fronting the moment they appeared. He’d be able to recognise them from the way their heart is beating and their mannerisms the second they stepped through the door, which is helpful but also incredibly unsettling.

Steven would brush it off, seeing it as Matt just being a kind brother to you. However, I think Marc would have more of a problem with Matt’s hostility, and enhanced senses. It puts him on edge to know they are being so closely scrutinised.

They also have the same temperament so I can imagine there will be more than a few clashes in the beginning, their similar brusque natures making it hard for them to not bump heads.

However, after Matt learns about Marc’s DID and his childhood trauma I think he’d be more sympathetic. After all, you both didn’t have the easiest childhood either.

He also knows what it’s like to live with a condition that can make your life harder but also makes you unique.

According to the comics, both of them are known to be good detectives and also keen boxers. I can totally see them building a reluctant respect for one another after they realise they have more in common than just their love for you.

In fact, I know you’d have to pull them out of the ring after Marc agrees to a sparring match with the famous ‘Devil’. The pair of them would get a weird pleasure from trying to beat the other to a pulp - they don’t often find someone evenly matched to have a friendly bout or two with.

At least it would once again prove to Matt that your boys could definitely take care of you if you ever needed it.

Matt would definitely be sure to offer his legal advice whenever he’s concerned you both might be skating on thin ice with the law. Apparently, ‘I’m being controlled by an Ancient Egyptian God’ hasn’t ever been tried as a legal defence in the American justice system before… and Matt is oddly willing to try it.

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rae-gar-targaryen · 2 years ago

Text

only smile in the dark [matt murdock x fem!reader]

A/N: Written for my darling Pheebs for our Discord’s Dicked-Down-December event.

Summary: You and your sometimes-antagonist, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, are snowed in together – in his apartment of all places – after he gets you out of a jam. Will the two of you survive the night? Or will you find some common ground?

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!black cat!reader (reader is a cat burglar and a minor antagonist to Matt Murdock, based on Felicia Hardy)

Word Count: 5.9k of the warm blanket of being snowed-in with your vigilante nemesis, of traded quips and loose lips.

Warnings: p-in-v sex, so 18+ ONLY, unprotected sex, sensory overload, dirty talk, oral (fem!receiving) not-so-hateful hatefucking, mild enemies to lovers, mild bondage, sacrilegious dialogue.

“We have got to stop meeting like this.”

You rolled your eyes beneath your Domino mask as you braced yourself for the approaching footsteps that carried the object of your annoyance from behind you and into your view, bent over the safe as you were, hand poised to deliver the final crack.

Sure enough, onto your field of view came the crimson boots (and everything else attached to them) of your – was arch-nemesis too dramatic? – your whatever he was… Erstwhile annoyance. Masked menace. Devastating devil. – No, not devastating. Stop it.

You spun on your heel, flipping the long hair of the silver wig over your shoulder.

“Hi, Devil-Boy,” you curled your fingers in a flirtatious little wave. “Fancy seeing you here.”

He scoffed, stopping in front of you and crossing his arms over his chest. You could just imagine the disapproval in his eyes behind the foggy cherry glass of the mask.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he gestured to the grandiose room. Here. The study in Fisk’s Hell’s Kitchen-based secondary office. Where you had made your mark to pick up some valuable information for a client (and maybe some valuable stones in the safe – call it a finder’s fee – for yourself). You'd certainly made a name for yourself as one of the most proficient cat burglars – ugh, you'd hated that phrase … try proficient diamond thief – in the city.

You prided yourself on remaining undetected. On the quick inside time for your deliverables. But, well, sometimes… unfortunate incidents occurred.

“And you should?” you raised an eyebrow at your current unfortunate incident, replete with horned mask. You propped a hip against the desk of this ostentatious office, pretending to examine your manicured nails through the black leather of your gloves. “Tell me, Red-Dead, what’s the going rate for your oh-so-noble vigilantism? I guarantee it isn't as high as for my services. So let's not waste my time. Is this the part where you ask me, ‘What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?’”

The devil from your dreams, whom you'd had the unfortunate misfortune to run into on several nights just like this one stepped toward you. Head slightly inclined, as though he were a bull gearing up to charge. And if you had been one of those arms-dealing goons he beat up on the regular, or perhaps a Russian mobster, or a Fisk goon, you might have felt intimidated.

No. Your run-ins with the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had been much more – could you call them pleasant? He had broken up a few of your smaller-time heists, letting you off with a slap on the wrist after a tussle that had left you weak in the knees. And who wouldn’t be? After trading quips and blows – don’t think about ‘blows’ – with a man whose firm thighs between your own felt as though they could crack walnuts when you had rolled on top of him during a prior fight. Whose suit made his chest look that much more expansive.

No, your exchanges were coy and cloying. And they ended much the same: in a half-hearted tease of a fight that left you with an ache between your legs and his sinful, syrupy voice warning you that he "wouldn't let you off so easy next time" reverberating through your ears for the rest of the night. That left you with the lingering temptation to slide your hands beneath your expensive covers when you were safely back in your lush apartment, imagining his hands instead of yours gliding through your glistening folds. Imagining his voice, still in your ear.

Wondering if he was imagining you. If he dreamt of the way you teasingly left a trail of crimson lipstick smeared up the cheek of his mask as you dragged your lips there, murmuring that this was no way to treat a lady. If he imagined the way you flexed your fingers, like a cat's claws, up the expanse of his chest when you bested him in a fight, wishing you could feel the drag of your nails along his skin instead of his armoured suit. If the click of your heeled boots as you sauntered through an open window – tossing him a wink before slipping away into the night – reverberated in his mind.

You supposed you would never know.

The energy between the two of you had always been thick, like dusky clouds impregnated with rain in a summer storm – waiting to fall, waiting to devastate. Stuffed with the smell of sagebrush and cleansing promise.

And if you’d managed a successful little robbery? Well, were you disappointed if he didn’t show up to chase you off with pulled punches and heaving chest? –

“Oh no, sweetheart,” He smiled, snapping you from your risqué reveries with a sardonic grin of bared teeth beneath his mask. “I know what kind of girl you are. And I know what you’re doing in a place like this. No need to ask.”

“That's disappointing. Of all the so-called heroes running around this city in Spandex, like a bunch of moral high ground losers, I don't know why I ended up with you. And I don’t know why you insist on trying to get in my way,” you hissed through the bared teeth of a forced grin. “I’m a perfectly reasonable girl, Devil. I don’t get in your way. You shouldn’t get in mine.”

“Honey, this isn’t Spandex.” He half-heartedly made to reach for you with an outstretched hand – which you swatted in kind, procuring a small blade with your other hand and bringing it to his throat.

He swallowed, the edge of your blade snicking against the skin of his throat as he swallowed.

“I can’t just,” he began, swallowing once more before swatting at your wrist with a gloved hand, knocking the blade away from his throat, and boxing you into the desk, “I can’t just let you take shit that doesn’t belong to you. And girls like you don’t play nice.”

“You could, Devil. And so could I,” you shrugged, meeting the glass eyepieces of his mask with wide, doe eyes of your own, fluttering your lashes. “I’d be ever-so-grateful if you just let this one slide?” You glanced out the window, inclining your head at the thick, fluttering flakes that were starting to fall in the New York chill. “I’ve gotta get home, and, baby, it’s cold outside.”

"You –" the Devil stopped himself, tilting his head like a dog listening to a whistle only he could hear, full lips parting as he took in whatever it was he was hearing.

"D-" you began, curious about his sudden pause, trying not to prickle like a skittish cat.

"Shut. Up.," he hissed, snatching your wrist and tugging you from your spot by the desk, marching you past the exposed face of the safe you had been stopped from cracking, and toward the wide window of the office. "They're here."

"Who's here?" You questioned, attempting to tug your wrist free from his tightening hold, to no avail.

The Daredevil appraised you, the tilt of his mask indicating a sweeping survey of your person before continuing,

"Fisk's men. All of them. And they're looking for you. I think you've been set up, sweetheart… Yeah, that's," he swallowed. "That's a lot of heartbeats downstairs. And outside." More to himself than you.

You raised a brow at him again, sardonic. Heartbeats? Doing your best to bite down the panic currently climbing within you with the thin veneer of a sneering grin.

"Then let go of me and let me get out of here," you tugged at your wrist in his grip.

"That's not gonna work, kitten," he responded, wryly. "We've only got a few seconds. I can get you outta here, but you've gotta trust me."

"Trust you?" You hissed, "The guy who tries to turn me in after every little tango? How about …" you tapped a spare finger to your chin, as though deep in thought, "hell no."

"We don't have time for this," he pleaded. "I'm not gonna sell you out to Fisk," he sneered the name through a curled lip. "I'd rather rot."

You studied him for the barest moment, the tenseness in his shoulders at the approaching threat. The warmth of his grip around you, even though the gloves. The clear, demonstrable distaste for Fisk evident in his voice, in the exposed lower-half of his face, the set of his jaw. How he’d always let you go before.

"Fine," you whispered. "I'm trusting you. On a probationary basis. Get me somewhere safe."

Which was how you found yourself stealing away on snow-covered rooftops, the packed powder muffling your steps, and all traces of your journey wiped away in the weather. As you shivered in your bodysuit behind the man leading you through a rooftop window and into an expansive loft space. An apartment.

You strode into the open space of a living room, eyeing the wide windows and exposed brick.

“Nice digs, Devil,” you whistled. “This, like, your safe-house?”

“No,” his voice echoed not-so-distantly behind you as he also made his way down the stairs and into the common area. “Though that would have been much smarter.”

“Don’t tell me you live here?” You whirled around as you watched the Devil remove his gloves, tossing them into a trunk and exposing fine-boned, long-fingered hands, shrugging his shoulders at you, turning his head as if to gesture to the now-storm outside.

“Not up to your standards?” He mocked. “Sorry. It’s not exactly the Plaza. But it was close by. And no one will know you’re here.”

You perched yourself on the edge of his couch, feeling distinctly out of place in a lived-in place with your catsuit, wig, and mask. A clash of ideals. Not unlike you and the man before you.

“Is it wise,” you arched your brow at him, voice acerbic, “to bring someone like me into your home …?”

You leaned forward on the couch, eyeing a stack of mail and papers on the coffee table. And though the Devil seemed to be observing your plain-sight snooping, he made no move to stop you. You leaned forward,

“Matt Murdock,” you finished, reading the name off of the envelopes. Why was that name familiar to you?

The Devil – Matt Murdock – removed his helmet, allowing you to take in the man behind the mask. Pretty dark hair, matted by the helmet, a strong jaw, full lips. Fringed lashes framing hazel eyes that seemed to … look right past you.

Oh.

“Well I suppose my identity remains intact,” you tried to gently tease, removing your Domino mask and your wig, settling yourself into his couch, as he made to remove the rest of his stiff armour.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, kitten,” he turned to face you again, breezing past you through the space and clattering with a tea kettle, of all things.

While the kettle brewed, he scooped a Braille paper from the countertop, slapping it down in front of you, and reading your father’s last name from the headline.

“And here you are,” he finished, “the daughter of a tycoon who likes to get her rocks off stealing Upper East Siders’ jewelry. Moonlighting as a cat burglar. I’ve known since we met.”

Your breath hitched, your eyes trailing over Matt’s form. The evenness of his voice. He was confident, assured. No question in his assessment of you. You’d balk at it, at the fear that should prickle through you at knowing who you were. But… he hadn’t done anything with that information til now, had he?

“In that alleyway behind that stuffy old coot’s apartment?” You queried.

“Oh, sure,” he eased. “Girl like you doesn’t often go to that part of town. I recognized your perfume. And the way you sound walking in heels. Like I said, we’ve met before.”

You lifted yourself from the couch easily, swooping past Matt to kick off your heeled boots by the door. You may as well make yourself comfortable, follow his lead, if he wasn’t going to kick you out into the snow or otherwise turn you in. Easing into his kitchen to remove the now-whistling kettle from the heat, processing where you might know Matt Murdock from.

“We didn’t go on a date, surely? I might have remembered. You’re certainly handsome, though I’m sure you hear that all the time.”

Matt chuckled at that, a dry, wry rumble from his throat, as he scruffed the back of his sweaty neck with his palm, using his other hand to unstick the clinging fabric of his undersuit from his skin.

“No,” he snorted. “We didn’t go out. I’d definitely remember if we had,” he accepted the cup of tea you now passed him.

“Then …” you eyed him over the rim of your own mug, which boasted, in loud text “World’s Best Lawyer.”

It clicked.

“Matt Murdock,” you breathed, “the attorney with a hard-on for bringing down Wilson Fisk. Yeah, you were –”

“At the gala. That political event for bigwigs who wanted to raise money for their campaigns to sweep crime out of Hell’s Kitchen. We met,” his sentences were punctuated. “Briefly. Your dress was killer, by the way.”

“How…?” You made to ask just how the blind, humble pro bono lawyer from the nighttime news could exactly tell that you looked killer in your Yves Saint Laurent gown. Or how he could pull off that ninja shit night after night.

“Devil’s gotta have his secrets, sweetheart,” he eased, fixing you with a cheeky wink.

Trying to figure the Devil – Matt Murdock – was like trying to catch light in your fingertips as though it were a tangible thing. Toying with dust motes that appeared when you opened the blinds in a dark room. Impossible, devastating, however pretty it may be. And Matt was a do-gooder. Trying to make the city better.

Whereas, you…

A bored little rich girl whose job wasn’t exactly above-board. No, the light seemed to be ever out of your reach – dooming you to a life of shadow. Of secrecy. So, you could respect that he wanted to keep his.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “Don’t tell me. I can take the couch, then. I’ll be outta your hair by morning”

You made to settle yourself into the cushions, as though you were queuing him to leave.

“Please, sweetheart,” Matt urged, coming to stand before you now, his hands making their way to your hips.

And it was different from the ways in which he had touched you before – different from your traded blows and quips. Different from the way he would swat at your ass playfully during a fight. Different from the playful tension laden in his voice when he encountered you before. And yet – it was the same. As though all of those run-ins were building to something.

And yeah, it was no secret you enjoyed teasing the Devil. Enjoyed taunting him, toying with him, allowing your touch to linger too long when you departed from him on any given evening. But Matt?

You eyed the crucifix peeking its way from his tight undershirt.

What an altar boy, you thought. No way he would actually want someone like you. Someone who toyed with people with bored, careless fingertips. Someone who broke things because she wanted to.

You allowed yourself to be brought into Matt’s arms,

“At least take the bed,” he urged, finally. “I’ll find you some sweats.”

You snorted at that.

“You just wanna get me out of my suit,” you teased. Eager to restore the balance to what you knew – the quipping banter of antagonists, and not this … blooming flush between the two of you, reflected on the apples of his cheeks at your quip. At the thought of getting you naked.

“I mean,” he recovered. “You say that like it’d be a bad thing.”

“I suspect,” you murmured, trailing your fingers over the peaks of Matt’s face, while his hands tightened on your waist, “that you’re smoother than you let on, Matthew Murdock.”

Matt’s lips met yours then, causing your eyes to flutter shut and snatching the breath from your lungs. He kissed you as though you were sacrosanct. As though the movement of his lips over yours was a prayer he had recited hundreds of times, and would recite hundreds more. At your gasp, he slid his tongue into your mouth, his hands coming to cup your face as he kissed you.

You allowed your hands to roam his body, to feel the firmness of his chest unencumbered by the Devil suit, to appreciate the warmth, the realness of his beating heart beneath the skin of your palms through his thin shirt.

You could barely contain yourself, as the storm raged outside, it building inside of you with every pass of Matt’s hands along your form, with every press of his lips to yours. And it seemed the same was true for Matt.

His hands found his way to the front of your catsuit, easing the zipper down with a smooth, zinging slide, allowing his fingertips to ease in to trail along the skin as it became exposed.

Oh. And if the heat of the room hadn’t been building before, you could certainly feel it now, as you allowed yourself to explore Matt in kind, whimpering at the touch of his hands along the curves of your breasts, the ridges of your ribs. Pulling your lips from his and allowing your eyes to wander as your hands trailed to his waist and to the front of his pants, stroking the outline of his hardness there with tentative touch.

"Not here," Matt's lips left your skin from where they had since been working on your neck, murmuring into your throat. At your quizzical groan, he continued. "Don't be petulant, sweetheart. I'm going to fuck you. Just not here."

In a flurry of feverish movement and stripped layers, Matt had ushered you into his bedroom, urging you down onto his mattress, his lips never leaving yours as he guided you on top of him, with nothing but your panties and a feverish grin as you rolled your hips over Matt’s, relishing in the feel of him, as you knew he was doing to you.

You scratched along his skin with your nails, kissing and sucking his neck as you continued to grind yourself on Matt’s clothed cock.

Quick as a flash, Matt flipped the two of you, a groan catching in his throat at the feel of the weight of you beneath him now, pulling your lips from him and allowing himself to appreciate you, in his bed, in his home …

Matt's fingers stroke along the peak of your cheekbone in a reverent way, a way befitting of a devout man. But the silken touch is also wrong -- it doesn't bely that he's not the sort of man who wraps a hand around your throat when he fucks you (he would), or like he's not the sort of man who gets down on his knees to unravel you with his clever, silver tongue (he is).

But the clean baritone of his voice an ever- pleasant rumble that caressed and ensnared you. Every time you meet. But especially now.

“I’m going to fuck you, sweetheart.”

You could melt. That's the Devil you were expecting.

Matt had removed his shirt, arms crossed as he lifted the fabric from his delightfully muscled torso. Your fingers keen to follow as you trace the planes of his chest.

Your nails caught along the edge of his nipples as your palms skated their way upward, reveling in the choked gasp that ripped its way through his throat at the feeling.

Matt cupped your face with firm hands, guiding you down into his plush, satin-y comforter as his mouth devoured yours. The fabric sang along your skin as you allowed yourself to sink beneath his spell – a servant to the Devil’s whims, as Matt’s hands trailed along your body.With clever tongue – which really could only benefit him as an attorney, right? – and teasing touch, he seemed intent on unraveling you without so much as posing a question. Matt’s heated fingers made their way along your own bare chest, exposed to the wintery-coolness of the room, your nipples pebbling.

You choked on gasps as he made his way down your body, his mouth trailing from yours, to your neck, pressing kisses to your breasts and laving his tongue around your nipple before rendering one with a particularly cruel suck, departing with lips more swollen than before, the popping noise echoing in both of your ears.

And you wondered if the heaving of your chest, the headiness of your breath, was overwhelming to him. In the way that he was overwhelming to you.

Overwhelming was a good word for it. As thick fingers drew their way across the seam of lace adorning your clothed slit, causing you to wriggle in his grasp, the reciprocal shudder from Matt’s body was all the confirmation you needed. He was just as turned on as you.

Turned on by the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips. Wrecked by the sound of your gasps in his ears. Besotted with the taste of you beneath his tongue. Intoxicated by the feeling of your mouth on his.

He had been afraid this would happen with you. Had he learned nothing from before? With Ele– not the time.

And Matt felt everything to an impossible degree, he knew. But if only he knew how it was almost flattering to have it confirmed for you ... if the way he was now slowly bucking his hips into the bedspread when you threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged was any indication. Seeking friction that would feel far rougher, far better, than it had any business feeling, thanks to his heightened senses.

“I’ll give you what you want,” he murmured, keening into your tugging touch while he worked his way down the planes and curves of your body.

Grinding himself into the bed as he went, as he buried himself in the cleft of your thighs, the flash of his hot tongue like cracking summer lightning, jolting through you from the very center as he licked a long, sweet stripe along the seam of your clothed cunt.

And it seemed reciprocal, you noted, as he rolled his hips into his bedspread in kind – taking in the feel of you beneath his fingertips as your hips and thighs rolled and writhed beneath his attentions as he continued to lick you. The song of your whimpers sweetly ringing through your ears as he felt himself harden in his boxers.

Thick fingers traced the slick, heated flesh of your center as you felt Matt draw the lace away from you, your arousal clinging to your panties in glistening strands as he pulled them to the side with something like reverence. Fully baring you to him.

And if you’d thought the first hinting taste of his mouth on you, your clothed cunt, was heavenly – saintlike and sweet, you had never imagined he could make you feel like this – The lavish, attention with which he was now devouring you, your bared slit. Matt's mouth worked your pussy, like singing a hymn, like an apostle breaking his fast – a man of singular focus. Possessed by the scent of your arousal, the taste of your slick on his tongue as he continued to work you.

It was enough to make you infatuated. Obsessed with the devil you longed to know.

The feel of him was like the slow drip and drizzle of honey, the snap of cinnamon – warm, sweet, and tingling. Swirling tongue and sickly heat.

"Come on, devil, give it to me bad," you purred, teasing the man beneath you with a buck of your hips, reveling in the sensation and rolling them up, seeking the friction you craved, your hands still in his hair. Losing yourself in the repetitive feel of heady, sweet attentions of his tongue.

A particularly clever lick-and-suck tore a moan from your throat, prompting Matt to part from you, to pause the moment to allow himself to savor all of his senses – his own chest heaving and cheeks flushed with the attention he had wrought on you.

“I’ll give it to you, sweetheart,” he pressed a kiss to your thigh, chasing it with a nip of teeth. “Only if you’ll be sweet.”

You rolled your eyes, head lolling against the feathery plush of the Devil – Matthew’s – pillow, “I said I would, didn’t I?” You puffed, exasperation coloring your voice, rolling your hips again.

You made to tug Matthew up to you, urging his hips with the legs you had wrapped around him, trying to tug him with willing arms and wanton fingertips.

It punched the air from your lungs when Matthew struck – like a coiled viper wrapping its body around its prey – warm, dangerously snug, as he rolled his body up and over yours, gripping your wrists in one of his firm hands, bringing them up and over your head, rendering you helpless to him.

And the feel of him above you, heated and firm, a wall of muscle leaving you immobile beneath him – reciprocal to him, as he relished in your softness, your pliance. Like a curving crescent moon bends for the sky.

“Close your eyes, kitten,” he purred, his lips gracing the shell of your ear, a tempest rumbling in his chest, urging its way through his voice.

And you had no choice to obey.

Allowing your eyelids to flutter shut as you acquiesced to your other senses overtaking you, the silken feel of one of Matthew’s – was it a tie? Something he’d wear to court? – traipsing over the bare skin of your arms. Up, up, up as it closed around the wrists still held over your head. Matthew was tying you to his headboard. And you were letting him.

You were sure Matt didn't mind. You could just imagine the sharp half-grin that quirked onto his face at the feel of you tied to his bed, his skin beneath yours. His smile was cold, quick, assured. Devilish.

You had accepted earlier in the night that you would never truly know all of Matt Murdock. Whether he was the Devil, or not. That there were parts of his personhood he wouldn't deign to share. Those things weren't for you, after all. But you couldn't quite bring yourself to care at this moment, when he shared what was simultaneously everything and enough, as he held you on the edge after licking your pussy like a man starved, his hardness pressing to your center through his boxers as he loomed over you now.

The rasp of his hands trailing up the smooth skin of your torso sang beneath his palms; the faintest of whispers to you, but a chorus of amorous intention to Matt Murdock's perfect ears.

"Tell me everything you feel," Matt whispered, snugly affixing the knot to your wrists, pressing a kiss to the tender skin there and affirming they weren’t bound too tightly.

“And what do you feel Matt?" you couldn't resist the urge to sass back as you indulged in the sight of your now-paramour peeling his boxers from his body, taking his length into his own hand and stroking himself to the sight of you tied to his bed.

"I feel … Everything. But I wanna hear it from you,” Matt took your sass as acquiescence, allowing his free hand to rove the planes and curves of your stomach and waist, to drag themselves through the wetness gathered at your center –retreating with your slick on his fingers. “I won't give you what you want until you tell me what I want to know," he paused, allowing your eyes to linger on him before he sucked his own finger into his full lips to taste you once more.

“You’re like honey, honey.”

Your residual whimper at the sinful sight before you was something Matt was sure he would re-play in his mind over and over on the nights he had trouble sleeping – he had a lot of those.

“I’ll tell you, baby,” you assured. “Please, just fuck me.”

And who was Matt to refuse such a polite request? Your legs spread for him, the crotch of your panties tugged to the side, the sound of your heaving chest, your blood thrumming beneath your veins, heated and singing for him. Of your wrists straining against his necktie – how much more could a man take?

Matt took himself into his hand once more, spreading the glistening lips of your pussy and guiding himself into your heat, rolling his hips to allow himself to be seated fully inside of your tightness – a broken groan shattering its way through his throat, his lashes fluttering.

You whimpered at the fullness of him inside of you.

“You feel…,” Matt trailed off, his breath hitching, as you rolled your hips to meet his, cunning and keyed.

“Like heaven?” You teased, voice full of mirth, and perhaps a bit of pride at rendering the man above you speechless.

“That’s sacrilegious,” Matt breathed, as he began to thrust into you in earnest.

“What’s a little light sacrilege between sinners, Devil?” You hiccupped, your wrists straining as you urged to grasp any part of the man above you, the drag of him inside of you more than you could bear, the heat between the two of you, the tingling pleasure inside of you, building – ever-building…

“Yeah?” Matt breathed, “You want me to make you see God?”

“Forget it.” You would have been embarrassed at the keening whine that Matt’s attentions were wringing from you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to give any semblance of a damn, so long as he kept doing that. “Fuuuuuck,” you whined, “who wants that when I have the devil in my bed?"

"You like that," Matt murmured in your ear, as he thrummed at your clit in time with his trusts.

It wasn't a question.

Mesmerized, stupefied, you stuttered a cracked, “Y-yes.” You tugged your wrists against where they’re tied to the bed, your senses leaving you as you longed to touch him, to push, to give back to him as good as you were getting. You weren’t used to being in the passenger seat.

"You like that I'm bad, as long as I'm good to you, that how it works?" Matt crooned.

“Fuck, Matt,” you whined, “stop toying with me and make me come,” you pleaded.

“Yeah?” he parroted, “You mean like you toy with me? Can you be a good girl? You're supposed to tell me what you feel." Clearly referencing the way you were still straining your wrists at your bonds, raising an eyebrow at your defiance. Nevertheless, he would acquiesce.

Matt’s thumb was circling your clit in time with his thrusts before breaking from you, skating his heated palm up your body to your heaving tits, pinching your nipple as he continued to fuck you toward your peak.

“Mhmm,” you whined, your head tilting back, pressed into Matt’s pillows. Pressed into his sheets – the scent of you, the essence of you, embedding itself there – certain, Matt thought, to haunt him for many nights after this one.

"You feel …" your breath hitched at the ferocity of his thrusts, doing your best to keep your voice even, the edge of a whine skirting it. Though you were sure Matt could tell. "You feel so good, baby. You're so good. I l-love the way your cock feels inside of me. M-make me come, Matty, please?"

And who was he to refuse such a request? Your praises flooded Matt's ears, prickling in his blood, as he turned his attention back to your clit then, reveling in the feel of you tightening around him as he fucked you to your approaching climax.

“C’mon, kitten,” he urged, “c’mon then,” relinquishing your hip from his bruising grip, he brought his hand up, gripping your throat to feel the reverberation of your release through the song of your skin, melting into his. The clever fingers of his other hand stroking your clit as you shattered beneath him, your release soaking his cock, your pussy like a vice around him as you worked your way through the blinding heat of your orgasm. Matthew’s release following at the overwhelming sensation of you, the wet heat of constricting his every sense as he allowed himself to let go. Discipline melding to desire as he filled you. Fucking himself into you through his own orgasm.

“Whoa,” you exhaled, as Matthew allowed himself to slump over you as his pulsing release gently subsided, the flutter of your lashes along his skin as he shuffled his now heavy and tired arms up to release you from his headboard.

He rolled to the side of you, skin sliding against satin sheets as he pulled you to him.

“And to think,” you murmured, massaging the skin of your wrists and pressing a kiss to Matthew’s temple, settling in beside him, “we could have been doing that the entire time.

He hmm’d into your skin in agreement, nuzzling your neck with his nose, pressing a kiss to the tender skin beneath your ear.

“Getting here was fun,” he acquiesced, allowing you to feel the curve of his smiling lips against the skin of your neck. "There's a fine line between –"

"Don't you dare say 'love and hate,'" you groaned.

Matthew smiled again, rolling to press his lips to yours in a teasing kiss.

"I was going to say 'between fucking and fighting,' but if you love me…"

"Shut up," you shoved his shoulder, knowing he could appreciate a little extra force behind your touch. "I hate you, Matthew."

He stilled, and you worried for the briefest moment that you had gone too far. You didn't actually hate him, after all. Surely, he had to know that…

"Say it again," his hands cupped your face gently as his mossy eyes glimmered in the low light of his room. "My name, sweetheart. Say it again?"

"Matthew," you sighed, trailing your hands through his hair, pleased with the silken feel of his strands between delicate fingers, as though he was always meant to be touched by you. You eased up to press a kiss to his lips. "Mystifying, magnificent, magnanimous Matthew."

He sighed in contentment, before quirking his lips at you, tilting his head into your touch, "And what does that make you?"

"Murderous," you quipped, flashing a toothy grin that he could hear through the falling darkness in his bedroom, through the heated drip in your voice. "And what'll you do about it, devil-boy?"

“You know I’ll catch you,” he breathed, allowing himself to ease beside you, the heavy weight of his limbs, of the feeling of you, soothing him. Your collective easy breathing allowing him to begin to lull…

The last thing Matthew heard was your sardonic singsong, “Promises, promises…” toying in his ears as he drifted off to sleep, the weighted heat of you in his arms – real, full, and flush.

And when Matt awoke, in the early hours of the morning, to the frigid, crisp smell of fresh-fallen snow, he felt it, singing in his nose through the glass of the windows in his apartment. Untouched, unblemished. And he felt – emptiness. His apartment was devoid of heat, of pulse – other than his own. As Matt realized that you had gone sometime in the night. The fresh-fallen snow covering your tracks from the fire escape as you had slipped away. Through his fingers, yet again.

He scrubbed his face with his hand, his phone pinging with a notification as he urged his software to read the text,

“See you real soon, Devil. Next time I tie you up.”

Oh, Foggy was never going to believe this.

tagging: @withahappyrefrain @drew-garfi @p3mybeloved @spidervee @maxmayfield @xbamboowishesx @wicked-blathers @jadore-andor @mrshipsmcgee @abibliophobiaa @friendly-neighborhood-blondie @mortwig @squiddtheekidd @lilacvine @liz-allyn @renaroo123 @blooming-violets @inklore @clints-lucky-arrow @lucy-sky @flightlessangelwings @vaxxildan @ouralcohol @thatredheadwriter @moonlight-prose @zombieaurora @andrewrussgarfield @aphrogeneias @luxuryberzatto @ifimayhaveaword @phoenixhalliwell @wvndasmaximoff @deskofninak @levylovegood @holyheadharpies99 @papaya-047 @alexxavicry

#matt murdock x reader #my writing #only smile in the dark #matt murdock #charlie cox #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil smut #matt murdock smut #marvel fic #daredevil fic #matt murdock x fem!reader

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farfromstrange · 2 years ago

Note

Can I suggest something with angst (because angst with no comfort is my forte) like a daredevil x vigilante teen reader (?) They are like siblings by blood. (The reader is treated by Matt like family, and he is so overprotective of them.) They have been together for a long time. Then something came up: the reader got caught by their enemies, and the daredevil was on the run to save the reader, or something like that. (I'm bad at explaining things, but I hope you get it.) Thank you in advance. I hope you're having a great day! love u

I am so sorry for the long wait, nonnie! I feel like I owe you for making you wait so long. Since you said angst with no comfort, I decided to completely shatter you with the angst, and I hope you're okay with that! I felt a shorter piece for this request would do better to convey the emotions. I'm nervous to post this, but I hope you like what I did with this!

Slipping Through My Fingers | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x teen!vigilante!Reader

Summary: You get hurt and Matt fails to save you.

Warnings: ANGST, TW: Death, hurt/no comfort

Word Count: 1.5k

A/n: Not tagging for this fic because the topic isn't for everyone.

He’s running. The city sounds, the noise, the sirens and the blood-curdling screams follow him everywhere. The stench in the alleyways seems to cruelly try to distract him from what he’s focused on, but he can’t give up now. He is close, so close.

Matt Murdock lost the only family he had when he was just a boy and he believed he was alone, truly alone, for a very long time. And then, one day, you stepped into his life. He was at the police station when he ran into you. Well, you weren’t running, you were stuck in a holding cell. When he found out why – you were caught punching a guy to a puddle for attempting to hurt an elderly woman – and when he asked Brett for your file and confirmed that you were, in fact, only a teenager, he chose to help you out. It could have been him, after all. In his mask, getting caught by authorities, and he would have wished for someone to bail him out, too. Besides, your sassy nature when he told you he was your lawyer drew him in. You tried pushing him away at first, but then you went out again the next night, and there he was, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, and he taught you a lesson or two about being smart when it comes to being a vigilante. That was the day you started working together, and you have become his family. You’re like his little sibling, and he’s never had one, so it feels right. He can mentor you, protect you and make sure you don’t get yourself in too much trouble, and in return, you breathe some fresh air into his life. It works, and he doesn’t feel as alone now anymore. You even moved in with him.

Last night, everything seemed normal. You went out on parol together, busting up a drug ring you had been investigating long before that, and you seemingly succeeded. Though when Matt came home after work a few hours ago, he found the apartment empty, your suit still at home, and he couldn’t make out your heartbeat. When he called, you didn’t answer your phone. You didn’t text back. And you made a deal at the beginning of this that you would always call back. If you don’t, you told him, not even after five tries, and he can’t hear your heartbeat across the city, something isn’t right. But Matt doesn’t need to remember your deal to know that something happened; he can feel it in his bones.

His chest contracts as his heart grows heavier. The fear is etched deep into his bones. He has gotten so used to the sound of your breathing, not being able to hear it is torture. Like minuscule needles drilling into his brain, the agony wraps its claws around his soul and drags him down into a dark hole.

He’s running, and he won’t stop until he finds you.

Something must have gone wrong last night. Someone must have remembered he isn’t working alone anymore and grabbed you to get to him. He has an inkling, but he can’t say for sure. He’s simply following the clues that are smaller than a grain of salt, and he’s struggling to keep up. For hours, he has been running, and you are no closer to being back home than he was before.

At this point, you could be dead. You could be bleeding out in a ditch. These men could have shipped you off to Russia, enslaved you, used you– He can’t think about that now or he will stop and smash someone’s head into the nearest wall, maybe even his own. He swore to protect you and he failed, he always fails. If anything happened to you, he once told himself, it would be his fault, and it is. He should have been more careful the night before. He should have paid more attention to his surroundings. Things always end badly when he’s involved, and he believes he has doomed you. Yes, he must have doomed you and now you’re gone because of him, possibly even dead, and he is going to have to live with that for the rest of his miserable life.

Then, he smells it. The wind comes in from the right direction and he catches the slightest whiff of your shampoo, your clothes, and your blood. The latter is what causes all fuses to blow in his mind. His already burning vision turns redder, his senses blaring with the alarms in his brain and he runs even faster. He jumps rooftops, chasing after your scent – and then he hears it. The faintest hint of your heartbeat is in the distance, but it is weak, and you’re losing blood at a pace that is weakening your body.

He’s not sure for how long he runs, but eventually, his feet are sore and his muscles ache, and he can finally hear your voice calling out for him, “Matty!”

He finds you on a rooftop. Your body lies limp between two blocks of cement. The gash in your side is large, and the pool of blood that surrounds you keeps growing by the minute. Your breathing sounds labored. You reach out when you see his silhouette, barely conscious, but you have gotten used to his presence.

“No,” he chokes out and gets on his knees beside you. He pulls off his mask, pulling your head into his lap. His hand flies to your wound, but it’s not the only spot you’re bleeding from.

Bare fingers glide over your face, checking for more injuries. He finds a cut on your lip, your eyebrow has been cracked, as has your skull, and you look completely destroyed. Your life is in his hands, and you’re slipping through his fingers.

“Who did this to you?” Matt growls.

“They’re gone,” you whisper. Even though you are injured, you don’t sound scared, you’re not in pain – you have accepted your fate. A fate Matt refuses to see.

“I’ll get you out of here. You just have to hold on a little longer, and then we’ll end them together. I promise. We’ll come home tonight and we’ll have Tacos and–”

“Matthew,” you reach for his face, “It’s okay.”

But it’s not okay, he thinks. You’re bleeding out, you’re dying, and you’re too far from the nearest hospital for him to even try to make a run for it. Even an ambulance won’t make it here in time. It’s not okay, no matter how badly you want to convince him of that, and just like that another wave of blood gushes out of you and into his hand. It feels heavy, like your life’s essence is trying to escape but he doesn’t want it to. You can’t die, he promised he wouldn’t let you.

“No,” he says again, more sternly this time. “Don’t even talk like that, okay? You’re gonna be fine, you hear me?” He calls your name.

You feel yourself getting dizzier by the minute, but you’re oddly content. “I– I won’t make it–” You’re cut off by a cough, and you taste the copper on your tongue now, too.

“Shh, yes you are. Stay with me, sweetie, stay with me!”

He can say it all he wants, it won’t change the brutal reality of the situation.

You’re dying, and he can’t save you.

You pull him down by his sleeve. “Promise me,” you breathe into his ear, “That you’ll– you’ll take that trip to Eu-Europe. Promise me, Matthew. Promise me you’ll l-live.”

“Stop talking like you’re dying, I–”

“I am.”

“No. We’ll get you an ambulance and then you’ll be fine.”

A tear slips from his cheek and onto your face.

“Matthew, please, just…”

“No…”

“Thank you,” you whisper, “for everything. For- for being my brother.”

He calls your name, but the noise fades into the background.

“I love you,” and these are your last words before the dark void grabs you and hands you over into the hands of the Grim Reaper.

You look over your shoulders on your way to the light, the last thing you remember being the tears on Matt’s cheeks and the scream he lets out as you leave, your life slipping through his finger like the sand in an hourglass.

You’re gone, and he couldn’t save you. The one thing he promised to do, he failed at. He failed, and you paid the ultimate price for it.

He stands alone at your funeral. Just like him, you didn’t have anyone. He made the men that did this to you pay for what they did, and the bruises on his knuckles still burn as the sun shines down on him. It doesn’t rain, which he sees as a sign from you, a silent encouragement that it is okay for him to move on and find the light as you did, but he can’t accept it. He can’t accept that you’re gone.

You were too young to get dragged into this, and now you’re gone. It’s his fault, and beating the ones responsible to the point they fell into a coma still didn’t feel enough.

He sends a silent prayer up into the sky, but God doesn’t listen, and he doubts he ever will. Mercy is something he doesn’t deserve, and he will carry the guilt with him until the day he dies.

#request #tw: death #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x vigilante!teen!reader #not a ship fic #gender neutral #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock imagines #human disaster matt murdock #matt murdock angst #hurt/no comfort #angst #like a lot of it

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shiorimakibawrites · 1 year ago

Text

Stormy Weather (Daredevil fic)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 726

Summary: It was a dark and stormy night when Matt returns home with a surprising rescue.

Warnings: Referenced missing child, referenced animal abuse, character experiencing mild hypothermia.

Once again, this for Mandy's Sweater Weather Writing Challenge since that prompt list has really inspired the muses. In this case, the prompt is "Get inside, you're all wet."

Tagging @she-likesorchids because this was inspired by her challenge and prompt list as well as @bellaxgiornata since you seem to be having a rough day (week) and it sounded like you needed some fluff.

Stormy Weather

by Shiori_Makiba

You were worried.

Granted you were always a little worried about Matt while he was out. Being Daredevil, after all, was dangerous. But right now you were feeling especially worried.

An hour ago, it had started to rain. No big deal, you had thought. It wasn’t the first time it had rained while Matt was out. It wouldn’t be the last. Besides, it was just a little drizzle and the suit was fairly water resistant.

It hadn’t stayed a drizzle for long. It had grown and grown until it was storm. A bad one. Rain was pounding down on the roof like a drum while the howling wind rattled the windows. Lightning raced across the skies, chased by deafening roars of thunder. So far the power has holding it but it had flickered more than once.

And Matt still wasn’t home. He had never stayed out in weather like this for so long. It was too dangerous. He had told you once that big thunderstorms didn’t play well with his senses. So why wasn’t he home?

You paced and fretted as scenario after scenario played across your mind, each one each worse than the last.

The storm was so loud that it took you a minute to realize that thumping sound you were hearing wasn’t part of it. Once you did, you also realized where it was coming from. The roof access door.

You raced up the stairs. And discovered that the door got stuck when it was this wet. It took considerable amount of force and a lot of swearing to get it unstuck. And standing there in the pouring rain was Matt, his arms filled . . .

“Are those kittens?” you asked, shocked.

“Yes,” he said. While part of you wanted to know what he was doing with an armload of kittens, the rest of your mind had more pressing concerns. Like the fact that he looked thoroughly soaked and was probably freezing.

“Get inside, you’re all wet,” you said, moving to the side so he could get by. Which he did, immediately heading down the stairs and toward the bathroom. You followed, trying to avoid stepping in the puddles of water he left his wake with your sock-clad feet.

Through he was shivering and his teeth were chattering, Matt was more concerned with the kittens’ welfare than his own. Which didn’t surprise you at all. Deep inside the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was made out of marshmallow fluff. And in fairness to Matt, their little meows were rather heartbreaking.

Only your promise to tend to the kittens got Matt to start removing his wet suit in favor of warm, dry clothes. While he did, he explained how he had found them. When the weather had turned nasty, he had started to head home but heard a set of parents frantically calling for their son, a toddler who had somehow managed to get himself out of their apartment. Matt had found the little boy hiding behind a dumpster. Who, at first, was too frightened of the storm to come out but eventually Matt managed to coax him out and get him back to his parents, cold and wet but otherwise unharmed.

Given the lightning, Matt had opted to make most of the trip home on the ground. And in alley not far from his apartment, he found the kittens. Who had been literally thrown away in the dumpster. Normally he would take them to the one of the shelters or vet clinics he knew was open at night but given the weather, he opted to take them home instead. You knew the rest.

Half an hour later found you and Matt were curled up on the couch under a blanket, sipping apple cider while the five kittens slept in a nest of blankets and your heating pad on the coffee table. In the morning, you would take the kittens to the shelter or contact your friend who did cat fostering to see if she knew anyone who could take them.

You tried to feel disappointed about that. It was hard. They were so cute and so small, it was hard not to fall in love with them. But there was no way Matt would agree to keep five cats . . .

But surely you could talk him into one . . .

End Note

In the US, apple cider usually means the non-alcoholic version and is called hard cider when its not. In this case, served warm and sweetened with honey to help Matty recover from his mild hypothermia.

It is not recommended to give alcohol or caffeine to someone with hypothermia.

#mandy's sweater weather challenge #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #fan fic

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ruisversion · 1 year ago

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We'll be okay || Matt Murdock x f!reader

plot: s3 matt. matt is 'gone', the devil is here and he thinks he doesn't deserve you

(masterlist)

"So..." I start.

"You should leave," he says.

"Why?" I ask.

"The man you love is gone, he's never coming back," I'm so confused.

"But you're right here?"

"Matt Murdock is gone. I'm Daredevil. Not even god can stop that now," he has personality issues I swear.

"And?" he doesn't answer. "Look, I'm not here to judge you. I literally have never been in your place, I can't judge you. I came here to see you-"

"Do I have to repeat? Matt Murdock is gone," he interrupts me. I sigh and kneel down to his level of sitting and lift his face up with my right hand.

"I heard you, Devil boy. I love both, the man I love is both Daredevil and Matt Murdock. I don't care who came out today, I love them both,"

"You shouldn't love the Devil. I don't deserve you,"

"Does it look like I give a shit?"

"I can't see-"

"Matt Murdock would say that," I chuckle. "Unless you cross the line Matt drew for you, a glimpse of the heartly blind guy will still be with you. That's all I need to love you,"

"And if I cross the line?"

"I will make sure you won't cross the line. Karen and Foggy still don't know you're still alive, must have a reason to let me know you're alive,"

"I wanted to make sure you were safe,"

"I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself,"

"Still, I worry,"

"We'll be okay," I smile.

"How do you know?"

"Because I know. It's okay to love the Devil and his inner human. Because I love both," he smiles. "Welcome back, Matt Murdock,"

"Wh-"

"You're smiling, the Devil doesn't smile. He's angry and grumpy, plus stubborn all the time,"

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you,"

"I love you, y/n,"

"I love you too, whoever you are, Matt Murdock or Daredevil," I kiss his forehead.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #marvel #daredevil #matt murdock imagine

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yarrystyleeza · 2 years ago

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Slow Dancing In PJs

Requested by @itwasthereaminuteago

(so my thoughts on this are vigilante!matt with the ship dynamic: wounded/healer, established relationship (platonic to romantic), and the tone is angst (hurt/comfort) and pure fluff + mentions of blood and violence, stitching Matt like the good boy he is)

Word count: almost 2k! A really long one tbh! 😅

The night you fished him out of the dumpster months ago, you knew this wasn't gonna be the last time you'd encounter the Devil Of Hell's Kitchen. He was covered in blood, slashes of a knife fight were scattered across his torso, luckily, they were shallow injuries, and you were experienced enough to stitch them up — being a well-trained scout leader. Well... Spending your Friday night on mending a wounded vigilante wasn't in your plans at all, but there you were, sitting on the chair facing him after you had finished sewing him back together.

He woke up terrified, blindly groping for the piece of black cloth that covers his face, you threw it in his direction, he caught it without facing it. "you're welcome, sir," you said as you stood up, heading to your kitchen were you took the teapot off the stove, pouring the tea into two mugs, "at least you should stay for tea, don't be ungrateful," you stated as you saw him walking towards the window.

He roared and clutched on his side, you put the mugs down on the coffee table and ran up to lead him back to the couch. "you know, they're not really that deep, but you have to take the night off, Mr Devil, they might get worse, and I'll have to send you to a hospital," you commented, sarcastic enough.

He sighed, accepted your tea, and settled down the couch for the rest of the night. He was so nice, unlike what Fisk was promoting for the last few years — you never trusted Fisk and you stood against him in every chance you had, and the innocence of the Devil was a sign that you're on the right side.

Ever since that summer night, the Devil Of Hell's Kitchen never stopped coming to your place, always knocks on your window glass to let him in after a long night of vigilant-ing. He never skipped a night, from the need for new stitches and bandages, to the excuses he made up just to be around you, he'd even call you during the day to check on you and assure you that he's doing well, too.

Within the first three weeks, you got to know who was the man behind the mask, a man who couldn't bear the darkness that dampened the city he loved the most, a lawyer who couldn't find justice in the light of the day so he seeks it under the shadows of the night, a blind man with an ability that never stopped amazing you, Matt Murdock, the attorney that was slandered for doing criminal acts while he was the one fighting against them. And you... You shifted from just being against Fisk to be Matt biased, if that's how you label it.

Soon enough, you moved from sitting on the armchair facing him to be next to him on the couch, and not long after, he had his head settled on your lap while telling you how his life was going as you play with his brown locks. It wasn't long before you shared your first kiss on the same couch, and cuddled in your blankets as the fall approached.

One snowy night in the middle of January — as you stood in the kitchen steaming milk on the stove to cook hot chocolate, you heard the fainting taps on the living room window glass, soft double taps, followed by another double, it's him.

You wiped your wet hands in your apron and turned the stove off, rushed to the window, you unlocked the deadbolt, "hi, angel," he greeted you with a quick peck on the mouth the second you opened the window, you kissed him back, "Matty, how was your night, baby?" he slid into your embrace the moment he slipped out the window frame. He didn't answer your question, you took your head off his chest and took the mask off his face. Oh boy, if this isn't the biggest bruise you've ever seen on his face, he kept a sealed smile, his eyebrows arched. "that doesn't look okay to me, what happened?" you took him to the couch, started to probe him thoroughly, walking your fingers over him and checking for his response.

"I got punched and hit my face on concrete, you know..." he stalled, "you should be more careful, Matty, your face is a mess and you have a day at court tomorrow," you rolled your eyes, you felt helpless, he sighed. For both your fortune — he wasn't really injured, only bruises were sprinkled around his body, and a little cut in his forehead to be fair.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," your shoulders fell, "I'm just so worried about you, I don't want anything to make you feel nervous specially tomorrow, and showing up in court black and blue is not a good thing for you," you cupped his face, he silently kissed the palm of your hand. "so, how was the fight?" you asked as you walked over to the shelves to bring the first aid kit, "some jewelry burglars..." he started, you brought in a bowl of warm water, a clean cloth and a pack of ice, placed them down the coffee table, "how are they active now? The cold is unbearable!" you commented, he shrugged, "sorry, continue," you soaked the cloth with water, to delicately walk it over his bruised skin to wipe the dry blood off.

"luckily, they hadn't stolen anything yet when I got there," he shrugged, "they were all put down in a few minutes, but one of them really got into the fight with me... He punched me, I punched him back, there was blood splattering everywhere..." you watched his face shifting into a look of pity for himself, "I guess I wasn't focused... one hit I was thrown to the wall... The next I was on the ground..." you were stitching the slit in his forehead, you paused, "hey, Matty, you did so good out there, you always do, and you got them arrested too, baby, there's nothing to worry about," you scooped his jaw in both of your palms. "the moment I hit the ground all I thought of was you, I was scared that you're gonna be worried about me, and that if I don't make it out alive they might find a lead to you and hurt you," his waterfalls were streaming hot on his cheeks, you squeezed tighter, "oh, Matt," you didn't know what to say, Matt is so stubborn when it comes to convincing him, "you... You know no one can hurt me, I have you, Matt," you looked into the vastness of his brown irises, "you almost didn't tonight..." you swallowed your tears, you needed comfort yourself, you got scared to death when you thought about losing him.

"but you're here now, and we're sitting on my couch and I have your face in my hands and you have my whole body in your arms, we're sure enough safe," you had to fight the negative thoughts before it's too late, Matt would go into a breakdown episode and might lock himself away forever. "we're here, together, in my house, far away from all the bad things, and... we're almost to cuddle and drink hot chocolate, I think we're far from being in danger," you couldn't stop yourself from smiling as you imagined you two snuggled on the couch with Cocoa mustaches, "maybe you should take a quick shower, use some floral shampoo, girly scents, baby powder, it might help you clear your mind, right baby?" you kissed him on the cheek, he smiled, you exhaled a "finally!" and hugged him, "now, I'll finish stitching that cut, and you can go take a shower."

You were done in less than ten minutes, you kissed his stitched cut and quickly placed a bandage on it, he chuckled, "I don't have any other Matt Murdock, so I gotta keep mine safe and sound," you brushed your thumbs over his cheeks, "I love you," he whispered, "I know, Matty, you can't resist me," he chuckled, pecked your lips and stood up.

You watched him march to the bathroom where you had already prepared him clean clothes —you bought a couple of matching pajamas for you and Matt for the days he has to stay at your place— as you walked back to the kitchen. You turned the stove back on, and started to stir the milk in the pot. Not long after, the milk was almost boiling, so you added the rest of the ingredients.

As you stirred aimlessly waiting for the mixture to cook, your nostrils were hit by a wave of floral scents, and before you could react, you were bounded in his arms, he nuzzled into your shoulder, "thank you," his voice vibrated onto your skin, a grin grew on your face, you caressed his barely bearded cheek, "no need, I'm your healer, aaand your girlfriend," he pecked your cheek, "the best of the two."

"I knew pink is gonna look good on you," you cheered as you turned to look at him, the pajama was hoodie-like pastel pink with bear ears, and had a cute brown bear on the chest, he rolled his eyes, "come on, put the hood on, Matt, you're gonna catch a cold!" he shook his head relentlessly, "I won't," you huffed, "come on, Murdock!!! Don't be such a prick!!!" you aimed your grasps at the hood, he took a couple steps back as you marched towards him, and it turns to you running after him as he sprints around the living room, "you're gonna put it on, Murdock!!!" you stood on the couch and finally caught him, he let you win this time, otherwise you'd be still running around behind him losing breath, he chuckled at how you threw yourself on the couch after you've done your job. He looked absolutely adorable with bear ears.

He walked to the kitchen for his turn to serve the hot drink, you walked over to the kitchen counter and turned the little radio on, it started to stream old slow dance jazz music. Matt filled the mugs with chocolate, and the moment he let the pot down, you pulled him by the hand closer, "shouldn't I be the one pulling you this way?" he caught up with your steps quickly, spun you around, "well, one of us had to do it," you hung your arms over the broad of his shoulders, fingers delicately wrapped around his nape, playfully curling the little dampened dark locks on the ends of his hair.

He let his callouses fold your waist, guiding you around as he stuck his cheek to yours. He danced you around perfectly, swaying and sliding his feet across the wooden floor, "you're mastering slow dance, I'm kinda jealous," you mumbled into his hoodie, he smiled and kissed the side of your head, nuzzled in your hair for long, "what about we go out dancing this weekend, angel? Show you some of my new techniques," he cooed, you nodded tirelessly, "I'd love to, Mr Devil, I'd never say no," you pulled your head off his chest, still keeping pace with his smooth movement.

He leaned down to pull a kiss off your lips, you went along easily, he smiled his kisses on you. "you wanna drink the hot chocolate now?" he asked as he pulled away, still less than an inch between your lips, you smiled, "and cuddle in blankets as we listen to a horror podcast? I'd love to!" he pecked your mouth quickly and carried you to the couch as you picked the mugs up, he placed you down and snuggled next to you, scooping you in his arms, resting his head onto your shoulder. You listened to tens and tens of stories until eventually both of you collapsed into each other's arms, feeling safe and warm — and filled with love.

I couldn't shake the n.4 prompt you sent me — off my mind, so I actually wrote it 😂🥰 it's actually one of my favorite requests, I put a lot of effort into it, I hope it'd reached your expectations 🥺💕

Tell me what you think about this! And thanks for dropping the prompt! <3

Feel free to submit a prompt from this list in my ask (I only write for Matt Murdock)! <3

#yarrystyleeza #matt murdock #daredevil #charlie cox #fanfic #mattmurdock #charliecox #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x fem!reader angst #matt murdock x fem!reader fluff #matt murdock x fem!reader

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bellaxgiornata · 8 months ago

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Congrats Bella!!! From one mama to another - what are your headcannons for Matt and Frank with a pregnant partner and how do they adjust to fatherhood (again in Frank’s circumstance)?

Thank you!! 💕And ohhh boy, do I have THOUGHTS on this topic for Matt and Frank in particular. Some of the thoughts about Matt you'll see bits of in Seeking Forgiveness and even more in future installments of FFTD (like way later for that series), and the ones for Frank I've wanted to include in a possible second part to You're Body is Not a Graveyard or something else entirely because there is a lot that can be discussed. Of course, I'll put everything below the cut (and y'all can keep sending things in from my celebration post here).

Matt Murdock Adjusting to Fatherhood

From the very beginning, right after initially finding out you were pregnant, Matt would absolutely be internally beating himself up. That man would be thinking he's going to fail as a father right from the start because despite all Matt's cocky confidence, he's got a lot of self-loathing and insecurities going on under the surface. And if you were having a boy? You can guarantee that comment about the Murdock boys having the Devil in them would be in his head constantly.

But despite that, the very first moment he hears the baby's heartbeat would bring him to his knees. That rapid, fluttering sound would become one of his favorites instantly. Because despite his fear of failing you and baby, knowing that child was his would have him feeling a love he's never experienced before. Especially with how much and how long he has been feeling alone in the world after his father's passing, knowing that baby was his family would be a very big deal to Matt and would often leave him indescribably emotional.

With his heightened senses, Matt would become bonded to baby quicker than most fathers generally are before birth. He would always be checking in on baby's heartbeat, zeroing in on the sound of baby's movements as they grew bigger, and even the way he'd be feeling their movements over your stomach would be an entirely different experience for him with his sense of touch. You'd definitely catch him occasionally grinning to himself in the apartment or while you were out because of something he was listening to baby doing.

When it came time for baby to be born, the man would be in a panic getting you to the hospital. It would be almost comical to see, making it seem like he was the one about to give birth with how he was acting. But really? He would be hearing every painful contraction you were suffering through with his senses, suffering through each one with you in his own way because he hated seeing you in pain and not being able to help. He'd be having a hard time trying to keep himself in check in the hospital while you gave birth, his senses making the entire experience terrifying for him, but he'd do his best to be there for you.

Once baby was born, Matt would be all about the skin to skin. He would shed his shirt and want to hold the baby as soon as you'd give him the chance. And that newborn smell? With his nose it would be something even more amazing to Matt–a very big dopamine hit for him.

Back home, he would do his best to help out with baby despite feeling like he was in over his head. But he would quickly realize he was amazing at anticipating what baby needed with his heightened senses, knowing when they were hungry or tired or needed a diaper usually right before they even started to cry.

But Matt would still be going out as Daredevil in the evenings. Despite his fear of leaving his own child fatherless through his actions (like his own father), it still wouldn't be something he could give up. Though he'd do his best to compromise with you about it all. But admittedly, he'd always have a part of himself distracted, keeping an ear out for anything going on back home. Because as much as he loves Hell's Kitchen, his own child would ultimately come first.

Frank Castle Adjusting to Fatherhood for a Second Time

Frank would initially have a hard time discussing starting a family with you after everything he'd been through with losing the family he thought he'd always have. But deep down, he'd ultimately know that's what he wanted with you. Not a do-over or a replacement family, but a chance at being happy again, of feeling that love he once felt instead of the empty, hollow space in his chest.

Finding out you were pregnant would be a mix of emotions for him. He'd be crying on the bedroom floor with you when you brought him that positive pregnancy test. Tears of joy at the new life already growing within you, but also tears of a deep, indescribable grief at the memory of the first time Maria had told him the very same thing.

He would attend every OB appointment you asked him to come to. Every ultrasound he would be right there holding your hand, fighting tears as he watched his baby's movements up on the screen. And every time he heard the baby's heartbeat when they checked would be like the first time all over again, a wave of relief crashing over him to hear that sound and to know everything was okay. Because deep down he'd always be terrified of another loss.

Frank would be going out of his way for you during your pregnancy. You're craving a cheeseburger or cookie dough ice cream at midnight? You can guarantee he'd be out the door getting it for you. Your feet are sore or swollen or your back was killing you? He'd be demanding you sit down, kick your feet up, and let him give you a massage. You're throwing up because of horrible morning sickness? He'd be right there holding your hair back without a word, bringing you your toothbrush and some mouthwash afterwards.

But that doesn't mean you wouldn't find Frank occasionally sitting outside in the backyard or on the edge of your bed alone and crying. Mourning the loss of Lisa and Frank Jr. along with Maria. Because the pain of that would never leave him, something you'd long since understood. There would certainly be times you'd be the one silently offering him comfort while he struggled with his grief being painfully brought back to the surface during the entire experience.

On lazy days and late nights, you'd be sitting with Frank, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling as you listened to him talk to your growing bump. His large hand would be affectionately resting atop it, and if baby managed to hit or kick him? He'd chuckle and happily accept the interruption.

When it came time for you to give birth, you can absolutely believe that man on the outside would look completely calm and in charge. He'd have the hospital bags packed and in hand while guiding you to the car. He'd stay awake with you through labor, no matter how many hours it lasted, and getting you whatever you needed. He'd be there calmly talking to you and doing what he could to ease your mind. But internally? He'd be panicking. Terrified of something going wrong, afraid God or someone would punish him for the things he's done and take both of you away from him in one fell swoop. And if that happened, he'd believe he deserved it, too.

But once baby was born and he was assured that you were both perfectly safe and healthy, he'd be pulling off his shirt and accepting his newborn from your arms. And he would be a hysterical, bawling mess as he held that tiny baby in his big arms. Whenever he could finally get the tears to lessen, you'd be hearing him promise that baby a million things with the biggest, watery smile on his face.

Despite Frank still having quiet moments of grief that you'd catch him trying to hide from you, moments where he'd be mentally reliving experiences from his past that still hurt him, he would be present for absolutely everything with you and baby. Diaper blowouts, late night runs to the store for formula, burping baby over his shoulder and being entirely unfazed by baby spitting up all over himself. Every cry in the middle of the night would wake him and he'd be right there, doing whatever needed to be done without a single word of complaint no matter how exhausted he was.

Frank would internally have long since made a vow to protect both you and baby no matter what, and he'd take that vow very seriously. But he'd also vow to never miss or not appreciate a single moment this time around--a smile, a first word, first steps. He'd be there for it all. And you'd certainly never catch him miss an opportunity to read them a bed time story to sleep every single night.

I could certainly go on with way more, but then this post would be massive 😅 These are just a few of my thoughts about these two as fathers!

#bellas 2.5k follower celebration #matt murdock headcanons #frank castle headcanons #adjusting to fatherhood #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #matt murdock #frank castle

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catholic-character-tournament · 1 year ago

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Quarter Finals - Catholic Character Tournament

Propaganda below ⬇️

Matt

canonically catholic but dresses like a demon to be quirky

They went to confession to a priest who they had saved as their costumed counterpart and the guy recognized them by the voice, proving that it's possible and everyone else is just dumb

he takes "i wanna fight god" to new and incredibly violent levels, while also being a sweetheart and a goofball

matt is a freakish little babygirl who was raised by nuns and definitely has religious trauma. i hate him so much (affectionately)

he’s literally fucking insane about it i don’t know what to say here. he thinks he’s chosen by god to go on some sort of holy quest to save hell’s kitchen. joan of arc ass.

i already know hes in by default j just wanted to give him a personal shout out i love this angsty catholic dweeb

how practicing he is depends on the run, but in my favorite he is quite literally confessing to a member of the last extant order millitant who happens to be a priest at a church in hells kitchen.

I'm sure Harrow is lovely and I respect the space lesbians but listen to me. Listen.

Matt Murdock is the Catholic character of all time, and if you make him lose, I am blowing up this website and everyone in it.

He is Catholic. His mother is a nun. He grew up in a catholic orphanage. Half the episodes in the show include him going to confession. When he needs therapy, he talks to his priest. He dresses up as a devil partly because of the Catholicism.

One time he got godly powers on loan from Heimdall (see below), and he did a lot of good with it, and then the second it was over he just... well. Also see below!

This man's every coping mechanism is Catholicism.

Please vote for Matt in the @catholic-character-tournament because he's the best and most realistic representation of what it means to be Catholic. Someone who's been punched and bet and crushed by life but still gets up every day to try. No, he's not a nun like his competition but he's not less devoted because of that. Not everyone is called to service. In the day he works at a defense lawyer to help people. Not for the money but to help people not get screwed over by the law. And at night, he dons a mask and beats up assholes when the law fails them. Is he perfect? No, that's the point. Matt is a broken man who is just trying his best to do well and live like Jesus.

He fully embodies the Catholic doctrine of faith and good works. He has faith in what he's doing even if others challenge him. He believes in forgiveness and repenting even when going up against "the devil."

"The people you murder deserve another chance." ... "No, Frank. To try again, Frank. To try. And if you don't get that, there's something broken in you you can't fix, and you really are a nutjob." "You think God made you a one-man firing squad. But you're wrong. There is goodness in people, even in you. And you're gonna have to kill me, 'cause I'm never gonna stop coming for you, until I take you down."

Daredevil Season 2 Episode 3

He (tries) to love his enemy. He believes in Elektra and Frank and maybe Dex and their ability to change. To be good. And when he can't, Matt refuses to compromise on his morals. While not quite "turning his cheek" he never scoops to their level. Because they don't get to destroy who he is.

Daredevil Season 3 Episode 13

All he does is for the love he has to his neighbors, his community. He loves New York. Not for self-fulfilling needs or for the money or for the fame. He does it because he believes in justice. Because the law was created by humans and is inherently sinful.

"But his competition met God and was disappointed and blah blah"

Daredevil is more grounded (at least the show, maybe less the comics). So now, Matt doesn't met God. But he sure gets mad at him. All of season 3 he angry at God for all the trauma he expired.

"You see, that was me, Sister. I suffered willingly. I gave my, uh... sweat and blood and skin without complaint. Because I too believed I was God's soldier. ( chuckles ) Well, not anymore. I am what I do in the dark now. I bleed only for myself. ( scoffs )" ... "You might hate God right now, but the feeling is not mutual." "No, I don't hate him. I've just seen his true face, is all."

Season 3 episode 1

As a Catholic I don't really want to fight God in a parking lot. Well I do but not in the same way that I've understood (primarily Jewish people but probably other Abrahamic religions) want to fight God in a Denny's parking lot. I want to yell and scream and cry at God and for the feeling to not be mutual. For Him to never stop loving me. As long as I have faith, He will reach out his hand.

Homura

she is a catholic lesbian whose girlfriend became god. she has been through so much.

shes such a lesbian for amdoke

Catholic guilt literally turned her into a demon

she literally watches everyone she knows die over and over and over again just so she can save madoka, the one girl who showed kindness towards her. when madoka ends up basically becoming god in order to stop the cycle of death and violence, homura RIPS AWAY THE HUMAN PART OF HER SOUL so that she can create a world where she and Madoka and their friends can live happily, effectively becoming the devil to madoka’s god

She has so much religious symbolism when it comes to her relationship to Madoka. Madoka is God and Homura becomes Lucifer so that she can save Madoka and give her happiness. She literally rips God from heaven and rewrites reality though. The way she sees her self and shapes reality is through the lense of Catholicism.

most fucked up little catholic girl. we love that for her.

Okay homuras entire fuckin arc is stemmed from the fact she is Catholic. Look at her trying to save Madoka over and over again and suffering for it because she thinks if she suffers enough and works hard enough Madoka will stay. Normal people do not go into time loops willingly. Catholics will.

#tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #polls #cct polls #marvel #matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil born again #mcu #charlie cox #r6 #homura akemi #demon homura #pmmm #puella magi madoka magica #madoka magica

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veryace-ficrecs · 2 years ago

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Daredevil & Spider-man Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Daredevil in the Tower by FuhkinIero - Rated T

Daredevil shows up at Avengers Tower asking for Spider-Man's help in finding Deadpool, and Peter has a lot to explain to the Avengers. Ft. Matt lecturing Tony, Identity reveals, and team red shenanigans

avocado socks and burnt pancakes by aloneintherain - Rated G

“Oh, my GOD,” Karen said.

Peter blinked at her. Karen blinked at him, mouth hanging open. Matt sighed, and said, “Peter. Mask.”

Said mask was still in the kitchen, where Foggy had wrestled it off of the young vigilante earlier, armed with disinfectant and cotton buds and a vicious need to nurture dumbass super-humans.

Peter sank low on his haunches, until only his huge eyes and fluffy hair could be seen over the top of the couch. “Whoopsie.”

Devil's Food Cake by Biromantic_Nerd - Rated T

One chance encounter that leads to another that, along the way, leads to Foggy choking on his coffee.

Matt sighed. "Yes, Foggy." He replied in an exasperated tone. "This is my teenage child that I've never mentioned having before today."

Foggy shrugged. "Well," He stared at Peter thoughtfully, "You never know with you nowadays."

How (Not) to Meet New People by aloneintherain - Rated T

“Why is there a teenager in our office?”

Foggy stood in the threshold of the office, mouth slightly agape, most likely wondering if he’d walked into the wrong building. The kid waved at him, smile huge under a blooming black eye and spilt lip.

“Foggy,” Matt said, far too calm for someone who was in the presence of a beaten, bloodied, teenage stranger. “This is Peter.”

The Devil and the Unknown by phoenixyfriend - Rated T

The boy doesn’t approach him as Daredevil. Not at first.

“Hello, Mister Murdock, you don’t remember me, nobody, um, remembers me—no, no, that sounds dumb.”

“Hi, Mister Murdock! I’m Peter Parker, and I kind of stopped being a person, a few months ago, and you helped me once and I was hoping you could help me find out if I still have a social security number? No, that’s worse.”

“Hi, I’m Peter Parker. You don’t remember me, but you helped me once, and I know you help people who are in… weird situations. There was a wizard involved. I don’t know if I’m legally a citizen anymore, and… no, that doesn’t… heck.”

i hear, said the blind man by momentofmemory - Rated T

Before Peter can finish his sentence, two things happen.

First, a red and black billy club comes flying from the rooftop and incapacitates the ninja about to turn Peter into a shish kaspider, and Peter thinks holy shit I’m going to meet Daredevil.

Second, the ninja’s sword careens towards the weapons crate and slices clean through one of the power cores, and Peter thinks holy shit I’m going to die.

A Floor Away by Merely_Specters - Rated G

Peter Parker moves in a floor below Matt Murdock.

piercings versus healing factors by orphan_account - Rated G

“Dude, can you even get a piercing?” Ned asks suddenly, looking between the two of them.

“Sure, why not?" Peter asks, tilting his head in thought. "Pretty sure May had a daith and lip piercing when she was younger. Plus she has a helix now,” Peter offers.

Ned gives him a look and grabs a pin from his backpack before stabbing it, lightly, into Peter’s hand.

Dude what the hell.

“Watch,”

After a few minutes, the intention became clear.

“What if I got tetanus or something,” Peter mutters, running a finger over the now healed skin.

“Don’t you have like a super immune system too?”

Definitely not the point but yeah.

“So, still wanna get a piercing?”

Ah. Damnnit.

---

Peter wants to get a piercing, he decides. The only problem is that his healing factor seems to disagree with him.

Spider Season by Selador - Rated M

Peter Parker is Ben Urich's intern at the Bulletin. He's alright, as far as interns go. Bad coffee, but he fights crime bosses who want Ben dead. That wins a lot of points with Ben, that's for sure.

A Different Kind of Mask by aloneintherain - Not Rated

“So, you remember the plan, right?” Matt whispered. The sirens in the distance picked up, the sounds of the police officers on foot growing louder.

“You’re blind and I’m just a scared teenager,” Peter said back, nodding. “Got it.”

#spiderman fic rec #daredevil fic rec #spider-man #daredevil #peter parker #matt murdock #veryace recs #fanfic recs

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 2 years ago

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Devil Boy (Matt Murdock X Reader) *PLATONIC

Characters: Matt Murdock X Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers, Daredevil

Warnings: Violence, fighting, Reader is kind of flirty

NOTE: I know requester specified Male but upon checking to make sure I got pronouns right I realised I never actually use any so technically it’s gender neutral? I’m not gonna tag this fem reader tho

Request:Would you write Matt Murdoch x Male!Reader where they keep trying to distract eachother in easy fights?

Matt had managed to catch a short break atop a roof, leaning with his arms on the barrier, listening for the next sign of trouble in the area, over the general sound of people leaving bars and clubs, normal arguments that didn’t need intervention, and police sirens to issues already being dealt with. His senses had been so tuned that he easily heard the person who had jumped onto the same roof as him, walking over, picking up a bit of rubble as they moved, and he easily was able to reach back and catch it before it hit him in the back, and then he heard your laugh.

“Damn, maybe next time.” You joked, coming closer to him as he turned to acknowledge you. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, thought we could catch up.” You suggested.

“What about your side of town?” Matt questioned.

“Massive raid right in the centre of it- the place is swarming with cops so there’s silence on that side for tonight, which means more trouble in your territory.” You pointed out to him. The use of territories wasn’t really something that had been made on purpose- it just worked out that you tended to occupy and care for one section of Hell’s Kitchen and he looked after another section, with the other few vigilantes in their own little pockets, sometimes crossing over or passing through. For some of them, having someone else in ‘their’ turf was enough for a fight to break out, but for you and Matt, it was the opposite.

“In that case, thanks for the back up.” Matt thanked, turning back to look over the side, before he heard something in the distance. “Just in time it seems.”

“Lead the way.” You instructed, and you two quickly evacuated the roof, you not far behind Daredevil, and just five minutes later you two were in the midst of a fight with a small group who you’d caught in the midsts of trying to rob a store.

Matt was shoved against the counter of the shop, hearing the yelp of the poor teenage clerk behind it who was hiding in fear. Matt reacted quickly, kicking the man to create space, pushing him into an isle and into one of his friends. Meanwhile you were in the back of the tiny store, using a spinning display rack as a weapon. “Please try to not make a mess.” Matt called to you as he strode over to the man he’d shoved, ducking as the man swung before landing his own hits.

“Bit late- watch out for the magazines on the floor!” You called back, jabbing at one of the men in front of you, catching is jacket on one of the hooks pulling him closer to you before kicking him so hard it knocked him on the ground. Matt landed a final blow to his target, before he walked ahead to put his focus on the man you’d knocked down. “You got the money to pay for all this?”

“Not on me, no.” Matt answered. “Guess you’ll have to do some Community Service.” He suggested as he took a swing at the man in front of him.

“Me? We’re a team now, Devil boy, and this is your turf so it’s your duty.” You responded as you used the display rack to block a hit before it broke, and you tossed it to the side, now using your hands in the fight. “I think this should be my community service.”

Eventually you got the situation under control, the clerk called the cops, you tied the robbers up with some tape the clerk had behind the desk, and gave her what money you had on you as an apology for the distress and the mess, before you took off before the cops arrived, getting a good distance between you and the shop, stopping on the fire escape of a nightclub to catch your breath. “You alright?” Matt asked, leaning back on the steps he was sat on, looking behind him in your direction as you leant on the railings behind him.

“Yeah I’m good.” You answered, moving sluggishly to the few steps above him, and sitting down there, reaching out and tracing your fingers over the details of his mask. “How about you? It’s hard to see if you’re bleeding with that red suit of yours.”

“M’fine.” He answered, remaining still for you, being able to vaguely feel your touch underneath the mask, letting a silence fall over you both.

“Do you think it would have been cheaper for the store owner to get robbed rather than have us show up?” You asked, the question catching Matt off guard and laugh heartily.

“Well if you’re having a morals dilemma, know that when we protect a place like that, they don’t experience crime for a few weeks afterwards at least, and their business booms in that time because it’s deemed safe by the public, so the money gained will outweigh the damage.” Matt assured.

“What if someone uses this as a scam- pay criminals to rob his shop in monthly intervals so more people come in the cool down period?” You asked. Matt grinned at your questions. You always asked these questions, if anything to try and catch people off guard and make them stutter and think, purely to mess with them. He remembered when you pulled it on Castle and for 45 minutes Castle thought you were serious and had a genuine debate about your questions before Jones showed up and interrupted, making him realise you were just messing with him, and now whenever you tried to ask your questions, he’d simply tell you to shut up.

“I’ll keep an eye out for any shops doing that so we can take them down together.” He told you.

“Aw, thanks for including me. I’ll consider it a date.” You teased, your fingers tracing from his mask down to his face, twirling around his cheek bone, across his jaw, your finger tracing up his chin, tickling his lips before you booped him on the nose, which only made Matt smile more. “In the meantime, if you need any help, call me, and if I need back up, I’ll call you.”

“You going already?” Matt asked, not moving as you stood up, brushing yourself off.

“I’m afraid so, Matty. I’m pretty sure the police are gonna leave my section soon and crime is gonna go back up, so I wanna be there to make sure it’s alright.”

“I can come with you? Backup?” Matt offered, but the pat on his head told him it was a no.

“You’re adorable. I’ll see you around, Devil boy.” You told him, before jumping off the side of the fire escape, and running out of the alley. Matt remained sat on the steps with a content smile until he eventually heard someone calling for help.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @rebellionofthecattle @hello-love-youre-pretty @werosemagic @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

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imma-devil · 1 year ago

Text

Girls & Boys - blurb

Pairings: Oberyn Martell x fem!reader x Ellaria Sand, Matt Murdock x fem!reader x Elektra Natchios, Damon Salvatore x fem!reader x Elena Gilbert,

Warnings: NSFW (Minors dni)

Tags: Threesomes (MFF), Bisexual [used as an umbrella term], switch!reader, food play, cunnilingus, fingering, shifting position, fainting, multiple orgasms, praise, degradation, bruises, making out, cum eating, oral fixation?, love bites, choking, finger fucking, cum shower, first time, teasing, little to no proofreading.

Word Count: 1,287

A/N: I have fed my bisexual fantasies, I will sleep good tonight. My third piece for Lazy Ghouls Spooktober under prompt 'threesomes.'

You can not take my work or translate it without my permission. This piece of fiction is mine, and only the characters belong to their original creators.

Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand

Both are vocal with their praises in adoration of you.

Oberyn is far more doting in his praise, opting to whisper how good you make him feel in your ear or compliment your beauty while you ride him. When he’s between your legs, he likes to smother the compliments that flow from his lips into your clavicle… his Dornish accent growing heavier with each second he comes closer to release.

Ellaria is different. She throws out compliments with the energy of a command, intertwining demeaning language in between. “You’re so good to me my pretty little whore~” she’d usher out between aches and moans as she rode your tongue.

Oberyn and Ellaria both chose you, but let’s be honest… Ellaria is the one who really picked you. Oberyn loves all women and is willing to please the many if granted the choice. He treats you nicely, but it’s Ellaria who acts as if you belong to her. She parades you for all to see like you’re a prize.

Ellaria often likes to watch Oberyn have his way with you. But you’re not innocent, you purposely give her lustful glances or all-out keep eye contact with Ellaria; no matter if Oberyn’s hips are snapping into yours or if he’s spending endless minutes between your legs tending to your core.

When you do this, Ellaria more than likely just observes and smirks at your playful nature. But sometimes, if you push her too far, she’ll shamelessly lift her dress to toy with her heat with her fingers. She’ll make sure you can both hear her moans.

Once Oberyn has worked you over the edge more than enough times, he’ll tend to his wife. He’d bend her over your torso, making sure you feel every thrust no matter how exhausted you are.

When he cums, he makes sure to pull out so he can share his spend amongst you two. His ropes of cum coating Ellaria’s back and your tits. For good measure, he’d swipe through the white coat with his two fingers, just so that he could find it a place on your tongue.

When one of your many escapades is finished, Ellaria feeds fruit platters by hand into Oberyn's mouth. But, don’t feel left out. Oberyn will be sure to cradle the ripe grapes or strawberry slivers between his teeth so that he can share them with you. He likes the taste mixture when he kisses you.

Ellaria will get jealous. She’ll take over, kissing you so longingly that the night begins again. She’ll repeat mantras between heated breaths, “Mine” “You’re mine, little viper.”

Oberyn will watch contentedly for a little while before joining in on the fun.

Matthew Murdock and Elektra Natchios

Matt will definitely be in a mood when you three finally get it on for the first time. He gets quiet, thrumming with energy that he can barely contain. Unable to quell the devil within him, especially with all the history that rests between him and Elektra.

Elektra, who on the battlefield acts like a wild panther, is tamed to a house cat when under the attention of both you and Matt. She becomes pliable under Matt’s rough hands and reduced to whimpers when you work her sensitive bud with your tongue.

Elektra becomes increasingly more sensitive with Matt’s hand around her throat, his hips rolling to meet hers, dragging out a moan from her lips with every thrust. After all, Matt typically liked to take things slow, opting to savor it.

Matt would fight off release at the glide of your tongue on his shaft, prodding at his head in sparse intervals each time he unsheaths himself from Elektra’s cunt.

A frequent position revisited by the group has you on your back in missionary for Matt; Elekra mounting you with her back arched and ass presented. Matt plows into you from this position, his hands marking deep bruises into your hips. All while your hand reaches around Elektra’s thigh, plunging two fingers into her eager pussy. Elektra would be fucked dizzy from your fingers, trying to ground herself by latching her lips onto yours.

Once you’d cum more than one time from Matt’s cock, he would switch to Elektra, fucking up into her with a speed that left her breathless. She wouldn’t be able to think, especially with you rubbing tight circles onto her clit.

After Elektra cums, likely for a fourth or fifth time, she quite literally passes out. Every time this happens, you and Matt often dote on her. The two of you cleaning up, especially when looking after her. Matt would have a content smile resting peacefully upon his lips.

Any time the three of you have sex, it likely ends in you and Matt having idle conversation before you all sleep the night off. When you wake, Elektra always makes a show of wearing Matt’s shirt. The article of clothing often looks like a dress on her tiny frame.

Elektra would return to her sharp flirtations and witty remarks as if nothing happened. But you and Matt both know that you could reel her in with a few simple moves.

Damon and Elena

Elena is needy. The only way this works is if you accommodate that. So, be ready to have to direct your energy towards her in any relationship, including physical. But, lucky for you, Elena actually was okay with a threesome with her boyfriend’s best friend. Funnily enough, it was her idea. It would also be her first time with a partner of the same sex, as well as her first time having a threesome.

When things started off, Damon sat in audience with a glass of bourbon; the buttons of his black shirt undone as he slumped into the couch. He mirrors a separate couch, there seated are you and Elena.

She kneels in front of you, her hands pressing into her thighs in a clear display of anxiousness. Even the rock music that plays faintly in the background doesn’t ease her nerves.

You ask for her permission with every move; allowing you to comb your fingers through the silkiness of her straight hair, lifting her chin in a delicate hold, and placing cautious kisses on her plush lips. Eventually, her hands migrate to drape over your shoulders, signaling a slight release of her hesitancy.

It's not long before Damon abandons his empty glass to sit behind her, gently kneading his fingers into her dainty shoulder blades. His mouth found its spot against the pulse point of her neck, leaving pink blemishes as he traveled up the length of her fair skin to linger below her jaw.

Elena lifts her head to offer him room, growing heavy on her shoulders. You decide to reflect his actions, following what Damon knows to already be successful in wooing the Gilbert girl. Elena shivers at the sensation, not used to the second person. A faint whimper makes its way past her lips, to which you and Damon both smile.

As the night progresses, you end up behind Elena’s back, the two of you lying on Damon’s bed in the boarding house. You support her weight as she leans into you. Damon stands at the bedpost, between her legs. He’s purposeful with his languid thrusts, which you accent with your fingers on Elena’s clit. Your other hand traces the curves of her body, slowly traversing the smoothness of her skin.

Elena likes being pampered, and it shows in the arousal coating her legs.

“Look at how wet you are,” Damon boasts with a mischievous glint.

Elena is silent besides the moans that fill the room like a song, hiding her face behind her hands in embarrassment.

#x reader #imagine #fanfiction #blurb #oberyn martell #prince oberyn #ellaria sand #oberyn x reader x ellaria #matt murdock #elektra natchios #matt x reader x elektra #damon salvatore #elena gilbert #damon x elena #damon x reader x elena #x fem!reader

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