After today’s episode, I can’t keep my silence. Foot Murdock… okay inside thought time (This isn’t me, these are the parasites inside me-):
WARNING, FILTH AHEAD.
After a long week, the weekend finally approached, and tonight was movie night.
The whole, weekly, ritual included, the smell of freshly popped popcorn, candles lit up, lights dimmed low, cuddling with Matt after a long week, watching a silly movie, and play fighting with Matt because of how much his silly commentary annoyed you. “Sweetheart, cmon. How could they not see that coming! It makes no sense!”
What was not included in the weekly routine was the way his lips slammed into yours, the way his big, hairy, arms wrapped round you, the way his calloused hands gripped every curve he could find, and the way his empty eyes expressed his hunger. Now that was a surprise.
Though, after that, it wasn’t a surprise how you ended up in a mating press under Matt’s sweaty and muscular body, his large cock sliding in and out of you. Matt is such a fucking tease, always has been, everyone knows that. He’s a cocky bastard. But a blind man that grins as he slides his thick cock in and out of your hole in an extra slow rhythm? That’s a sight, a suffering, that only you know.
The way he pulls out till the very head of his cock threatens to pop out of your hole, just for him to thrust it back in, painfully slow. He does it over and over so he can hear every delicious whimper, plea, and cry from your mouth, embedding the sounds into his ver own soul. The way your body trembles, the way hole clenches around his cock so it won't slip out, like a blessing for him.
But there is another dirty little secret that Matt Murdock has, other than his double life, a secret no one expects from the church raised, handsome, and well spoken, blind, lawyer. Matt loves feet, and he always has an appetite for yours. That man lives for them.
The way they feel
The way they taste in his mouth
The way your freshly painted, and dried, toe nails smell.
And if you wear an anklet? Lord have mercy, he gets hard every time he hears it jingle.
And that’s how you, simply, ended up sobbing, on a Friday night, with Matt’s cock in your hole, and his hot tongue swirling in between your toes. His lips leaving kisses on that sensitive arch of yours, and his teeth grazing over the heels.
P.S your feet end up covered in those pretty pearly ropes of Matt’s cum ;)
matt and a reader who doesn’t think she can be loved? matt and a reader who thinks it’s horrible grueling work to love her? matt and a reader who doesn’t mind that people don’t pay attention to her she’s so used to it? matt and a reader who’s like a ghost, quiet and barely speaking? matt and a reader who has horrible thoughts and feels like her brain is working against her? matt and a reader who has disordered eating habits and it makes her so so miserable on top of everything else????
matt and a reader who he has to teach to accept nice things????? matt and a reader who he praises for letting him gift her things????? matt and a reader who slowly becomes more and more open to affection???? matt and a reader who goes from hyper independent and unable to ask for help to letting him fold her laundry and pour her coffee in the morning???? matt and a reader who takes a long time to accept his affections, but inevitably melts into his touch????
matt and a reader who fakes her first orgasm with him??? matt and a reader who thinks getting eaten out is something that only happens in books or pornos???? matt and a reader who he is committed to making squirt???? matt and a reader who keeps her dirtier kinks and fantasies to herself out of fear of being rejected???? matt and a reader who, when she eventually does tell him, is met with enthusiasm and more questions as to what you’d like to try???? matt and a reader who falls in love not only with him, but with having sex with him, because being paid attention to, the way matt does when he’s fucking you, is like a drug????? matt and a reader who whimpers when he asks—-
“you just need someone to take care of you, don’t you?”
Summary: Your husband likes hearing you.
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader
Warnings: smut (18+ content), soft dom! Matt, lots of dirty talk
A/N: Yeahh, I'm back. I'm sorry.
This particular one shot was inspired by real conversations that I have had with my fiance. (Haha, I'm no longer an inexperienced, lonely schoolgirl. I am an experienced, indescribably happy woman. Y'know what that is? Growth.) So the dialogue and descriptions are ripped straight from car rides, living rooms, and a bedroom. This took me about a year and half, on and off, to write. I hope that you like it.
"So, Mrs. Murdock… how can I make things better?"
"Make what better?" you ask, coming into the living room with a pile of warm laundry - blacks this time. In this pile, you have a couple of shirts, a pair of yoga pants and some socks, while Matt has his old Man-in-the-Black-Mask outfit and a few pairs of boxers and some black dress pants for work. The pile is not too hot for Matt, it's just teetering on the edge of warm, and you drop it all on him.
He sighs contentedly, sinking lower onto the couch and into the clothes which have now almost completely engulfed him. "You're wearing…" His eyebrows scrunch up. "… that's a different perfume you're wearing, isn't it? White tea and sage?"
"I decided I wanted to switch things up. Do something different." You pause. "Why, do you not like it?"
"I do," he says, "but I think I like your usual vanilla, though. That one is more… you."
"Well, yeah, 'cause you've smelled it on me every day for the past five years. What were you going to say, though? You interrupted yourself."
"Hm?" It seems as if your husband has lost himself in you: your clothes, your scents, the sound of your voice. He's distracted, just a little bit.
"You were going to say something about… 'making things better'."
"Oh," he says with a slight chuckle, straightening up and beginning to fold the clothes with you. "Right."
Matt seems oddly charming like this. He reminds you - and truthfully, this side of him never left - of the sweet, shy man you fell in love with. The man who stutters sometimes when he gets nervous, the man who laughs at all your stupid little comments and quips, the man who sometimes gets caught staring at you as if you're the most precious thing in the world.
Two years ago, you married him, and it was the best decision you had ever made.
"How can I make things better?"
"Is this a general marriage question or is it something else?"
"Er… something else." His voice has gone quiet, but not in a bad way. He almost sounds like he's holding his tongue… or he wants you to guess.
"Is it a… a bedroom thing?"
"Very good. How'd you know?" he says with another smile. He puts a pair of his boxers to the side, and abruptly kneels down in front of you, and begins to kiss your clothed thighs, your hips.
"It's the way you look at me."
"How do I look at you, angel?"
"It's like…" Your mind quickly wanders. It's easy for you to get distracted by what he does to you. "Like how you looked at me when we first met, like you were going to propose in the middle of the coffee line. Like you just really wanted to kiss me… and…"
"And?"
"And… other things."
"Still going all shy on me after all these years, huh?" Matt's eyes have lit up in mischievousness and he grins. "How about we help you out with that?"
"What do you mean?" you ask, grinning just a little. His mischievousness is rubbing off on you already.
"I want to hear you talk."
"Well, that's nothing new. I'm a professional yapper. Ask me my thoughts on the 'Before' trilogy and I'll be here all day. Oh, that reminds me, I just ordered the box set from the Criterion Collection. They have a sale going on, and---"
"No, my love, I mean…" Matt smirks. "I want to hear you describe things to me. Tell me what you like, what you want me to do to you. In detail." He looks up at you from where he's kneeling down and - Oh, Lord, he looks heavenly. Drunk off of you already and he hasn't even undressed you. "I like hearing you. And I like when you get all flustered."
It takes you a moment to process what you've just heard. "O-Oh. Um."
He's well aware of your kinks. You don't quite know why he's asking you to tell him again, but you have a feeling, and that's enough to get you embarrassed.
Matt gets up and faces the laundry again. He starts folding his clothes, as if he had never spoken to you at all. But you already notice the way he grips the clothing just a bit tighter than normal. His wedding ring glints in the sunlight that's streaming through the windows. "Take your time," he says. "I'm in no hurry." He's not being sarcastic, and it helps ease your nerves a little.
Your voice is a low sound, a hesitant little whisper. "I like… I like giving up control. I... like feeling safe - with you... when you gently lead me and dominate me in a very loving and sweet and... encouraging way. It's like a praise kink but more… I don't know."
"More… reassuring?"
"Yeah, you could say that." There's a blush in your cheeks.
Matt hums, clearly enjoying what he senses from you. "What else?"
This next one is a bit of a ramble, but it's still not easy. "I like when you call me 'sweetheart' and 'honey' and 'good girl'. I like it when you compliment me and keep at it even when I get shy about it…"
Matt turns, leans over you, lifting your chin up with his hand so that you can look at him. "Yeah?" he asks, oh so softly.
You gulp.
"Use your words, my love."
"Yes. I - I do."
"That's my good girl. Keep talking." He swipes his thumb over your lips, his touch as soft as a brush of wind.
"I like how… um," you start. You stop yourself. Your brain has started to go fuzzy and it's hard to continue your thoughts, especially when your husband is being this sweet to you.
"C'mon," he murmurs gently. "You know I like the sound of your voice. Can you keep going for me?"
"I… I like how you tease me, like what you're doing now. It's… I don't know how to explain it, but…" You trail off, hoping he'll know what you mean. "It shows that you like seeing me like this."
"I do like seeing you this way," he says with another shit-eating grin. His voice is low, soft, just how you love. "How you blush so easily, how you stammer when you're all shy… it's cute… how you can't keep your grin off of your face even when you act all annoyed. I know you like it."
His hand comes to rest on your cheek and you sigh contentedly, leaning into his touch. Subspace is fully engulfing you now. Matt continues, "I also like how easily you give in… you said you like giving up control? Well, sweetheart, you know how much I like to have it, hm? I like having complete trust from you… the way you so easily and so willingly give yourself over to me is the hottest thing in the world." Matt leans forward so he can talk low into your ear. "And I know you like my voice too. When it gets low. You've told me that before… Was that a shiver I just felt in the air?"
You're practically panting, and you haven't realized until now. Your cunt is throbbing and your mind is fuzzy. Jesus Christ, it's -
"..so easy to turn you on, sweetheart."
You make a noise out of the back of your throat, somewhere between a whimper and a moan. Of course, he hears it.
"Did I mention how I also love when you're desperate?" Matt asks smugly. "You sound so pretty when you're whimpering and making all of your cute little noises." He is still close to your ear. This moment is purely between you and him - not that anyone else was in the room in the first place, but it's more intimate. "Telling me that you want it, that you need it, need my fingers, my tongue, my cock. That you crave it, there's an ache in your sweet pussy that only I can satisfy. When you beg me to touch you, to give you anything more than just teasing.
"And I also love when you're too overstimulated to even speak. When you're so overtaken by the pleasure that I so willingly give you, and all you can do is submit to it, let it completely take over. You feel so tight, you're entirely breathless, your noises are primal and raw. I've said that to you before, haven't I? It's the hottest thing in the world, angel."
"I thought -" you swallow, "I thought I was the one who'd talk today."
"But you can't, can you?" Matt coos softly, teasingly. "You've been silent, listening so well to me, but my poor baby can't even speak because she's so turned on. Well, remember how I said I want to hear you? I do. What I want to hear is you… when I make you come. You sound so pretty when you come, and you feel just as good. You're just…" For a moment, your husband is at a loss for words, looking at you with such a fond, loving expression that it makes your heart flutter. "You're so pretty, angel. Everything about you. And I love you. So much."
He pauses. "Can I tell you a secret? Come here."
You lean towards him -- and he's on you in an instant, but soft, his lips locking with yours, a hand coming to cup your jaw again. His thumb strokes your cheek and you sigh into the kiss. He knows what that little motion does to you: it screams tenderness, gentle care. I treasure you.
You break away. "You took that from 'Before Sunrise', you tease," you say with a smirk. "You sure you don't want me to yap about that again? I can. I can talk about the record store scene, Jesse and Celine's stolen glances at each other, the -"
He kisses you again, interrupting you.
"That was a 'shut up' kiss," Matt murmurs under his breath, his voice low and filled with need, a sly smile coming up. You know he doesn't mean that in a mean way.
It was not a very long time after your conversation that Matt has you on the bed, on your side, a leg hitched up over his shoulder. He's kneeling, straddling the leg that's still on the bed, thrusting into you. He has you practically squealing into the pillow, one of your arms holding your little pink vibrator over your clit. You've already come three times in this position. Your legs are jelly and your mind is mush, and all you can think about is how good you feel. Your moans and cries are muffled by your pillow, and it's getting a bit hard to breathe, he's fucking you so good.
"Christ, baby," he moans, "feel s'good on me."
"Nngh," is all you can respond back. Your orgasms are melting into each other - and you come again, without warning, gasping out a guttural sound as Matt moans at the feel of it. "Ack-"
"Good girl," he moans, "oh, I felt that one." You can hear the smile, the satisfaction in his voice.
"Baby." you slur. "'s too much… t-too much." Your body is on fire, electric. Your hand is getting numb from the vibrations and the toy itself is slipping out of your fingers. Your chest hurts from how tight it's gotten, and you gulp in any air you can.
"Oh, is it?" he says, mischevious now. "Good."
Your desperation heightens. You shut your eyes. "Ah - Breather -- breatherbreatherbre-"
"Okay." You hear his voice soften. He stops, and you cry out from the difference in sensation. "Okay, okay," he says quickly, coming down to lay beside you. "C'mere," he says, taking your limp body and holding you close to him while you shiver and quake. The vibrator lays, momentarily forgotten, on the bed beside you. "I gotcha, 's okay."
"Wh-" you pant, "what the fffuck, honey-" You're not mad, you're just very overwhelmed, in a good way.
"Deep breaths, now," he says lowly. "Slow. With me."
You breathe together. A few tears slip from your eyes. You're not sad, just overwhelmed.
"Oh," he whispers, "poor baby..." He kisses your shoulder, your hands, your fingers. "'s alright."
Some nights end like this. You're too overstimulated to continue, or else he loses his erection (through no fault of yours) due to tiredness, or you just stop. Both of you are okay with this.
"I got what I wanted already," he muses. "I just wanted to hear you."
a/n: idk, man. i was drunk and in a mood. just wanted to get the idea out of my head. not proofread at all - feel free to call me out on any mistakes and such.
you don't sleep with your windows open.
call it paranoia from having lived alone all this time. call it OCD. call it a habit.
lock the windows, double lock the doors, make sure the latches are on tight.
that has always been a routine, no matter how tired or drunk you were, no matter how late it was.
it was crazy to think someone had the skills to invade your apartment despite it all. granted you were asleep, but it was a surprise regardless.
Matt has a spare key, naturally. but he didn't use it. why would he? Daredevil doesn't need permission, least of all in the middle of the night - when his mind seems as dark and twisted as the streets of Hell's Kitchen.
he would usually wake you up when he was this covered in blood and dirt. you'd help him take off his suit, help him clean up and patch up. maybe even get him a hot meal.
not tonight.
tonight wasn't about fixing. not when he could still hear the strangled pleas of the man he nearly snapped the neck of. not when he could still feel bones crunch under his knuckles. not when he could feel the drops of blood on his skin from God knows how many goons he took care of on the streets.
he always called your apartment ideal for his meditation. not that he didn't keep his own as tidy and meticulous as possible, but your apartment was... clean. not a everything-has-its-place clean. but the kind of clean where he forgets how close to Hell's Kitchen you live.
gone is the smell of garbage on the streets. gone is the stench of sweat and piss that he can sense at every turn in the city. gone is the smell of blood he's been covered in far too often.
here? in your apartment? it was just you.
the spices that you cook with. the plants you decided to try and take care of this week. the fresh sheets you're obsessed with changing periodically. your lavender scented candles. your vanilla perfume.
the cum you think you cleaned off your fingers.
his breath hitched and his mouth watered as he caught it, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips parted with a shaky exhale.
he clicked his tongue. he had a busy night. a busy day. but was that really an excuse for not realizing how you were probably moaning his name into your pillow while your fingers and toys were—
his thoughts got cut off when he grunted involuntarily, his hand trailing down to his crotch as he palmed himself through his suit.
he appreciated the position you slept in. on your stomach, one leg hitched up. minimal clothes.
it was such easy access.
he trailed over to the side of the bed you slept on, removing one of his gloves as he used his fingers to move the strands of hair on your face. his fingers trailed to your own, the ones you had used earlier tonight. lingering over them, collecting the remnants only he could sense. he wasn't going to let it go to waste, and most of all, he wasn't going to miss out.
he was a dazed man tonight. the things he'd seen, the things he'd done—
that's what he was telling himself as he shushed you, covering your mouth with his gloved one while his other helped him angle himself just right. a sound between a sigh and a whimper left his lips as he felt how easy it was to bottom out inside you, "that's my girl."
you groaned against his palm, your eyes wide as you found yourself awake so abruptly. you didn't hear the door open, didn't hear him enter, didn't feel him wake you up like he usually would.
"came enough times tonight, sweetie?" he bit down on your earlobe, his lips and teeth trailing down the back of your neck, your shoulders. "can't blame me for feeling left out, can ya?"
your defense was muffled against his palm. you could feel the coarse grains of mud and dirt against your lips, the texture of his glove digging into your cheeks.
"quiet—" he all but growled as he removed his hand from your mouth, his teeth biting down on your cheek. you did your best to stifle your shriek, involuntarily clenching around him as your legs thrashed.
his hand didn't hesitate to trail down to your thigh and pinch, a wordless warning as focused on the sounds - the slapping of skin, the squelch of your walls clasping around his girth.
"not about you tonight," he panted, shamelessly gripping the back of your head and shoving your face into your pillow - one that would be painted in your tears and drool soon enough.
"but you'll let me get away with that, won't you? you—" he choked on a chuckle and a groan, feeling your ass push back, "you let me get away with anything. proven that enough times."
he shoved his gloved hand under your stomach, trailing it down to your clit as he let the rough texture stimulate you further, relishing the cry that got muffled by your pillow.
he couldn't hate the way his cock twitched inside you at that.
"shit— that's it," his other hand momentarily left the back of your head as he removed his cowl hastily, the sweat making his head feel like it was going to burst.
you didn't miss out on the opportunity, words stumbling out your mouth as you tried to sniffle and breathe.
"matt, please, please, e-ease up— at least grab a—"
"people forget," he grunted, shoving your face back into your pillow - and the way it made you scream ignited something in his chest.
"this city? these people? mine to protect," he put his entire weight on to you, your legs thrashing as the pressure increased.
he was everywhere. his rough gloved fingers toying with your clit, his cock slamming deeper inside you, his hand holding your head down, and now his entire weight ensuring he had you right where he wanted you. he was strong, so impossibly strong.
the way your hands had been thrashing for purchase didn't even matter.
"you are mine to protect," he murmured, his voice loud enough to reach you. "mine to keep safe. spent. full."
one of your hands managed to reach his batons he still had strapped to his thigh, grabbing and tugging at them in a state of panic as he relentlessly took and took and took from you.
his lips twisted up in a smirk as his hand came up on yours, squeezing tight around the batons, "greedy girl."
you turned your face to the side on your pillow, gasping for air as you choked on your tears, "f-fuck, wait, please, Matt—"
well, how could he say no to that?
he strapped the batons off his thigh, keeping them next to your face as he shoved two fingers in your mouth, "just prepping you for what you want, sweetie."
you groaned around the digits and tried shaking your head. maybe your head shoved into the pillow was mercy.
"shh, sh sh—" he was quick then, his fingers out your mouth and the end of the baton being shoved in, using the fact that your mouth was open to gasp as his opportunity.
"wanted it so bad, huh?" he matched the pace of his hand with his thrusts, feeling every spasm - tight, frantic, wild - as your body fought between pain and pleasure, shame and surrender.
"look at you," he growled against your ear, voice thick, "so full. so fucking perfect."
you couldn't help but drool around the thick end of the baton, occasional choking noises escaping your lips as he tested you and pushed you. you realized this was not about pleasure - certainly not your own.
tremors shook your legs and you squeezed your eyes shut, your throat constricting as a lump formed. your shaky breaths through your nose turned into whines, hot tears burning your eyes and streaming down your cheeks into your pillow as you came, shattered open by pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
he pulled his baton out your mouth as he groaned at the feel of your walls tightening around him, the feel of you cumming against him pushing him over the edge. his hand gripped your hair and tilted your head back, his lips latching on to yours - all teeth and tongue and moans while his hips stuttered once, twice, and then going still as he emptied inside you with a shudder so deep it made even him ease up against you for the first time tonight.
your thighs were quaking beneath him as soft sobs escaped your lips, your shaky fingers reaching back to touch him - feel his hair, his skin, his suit against your palms.
he stayed inside you long after his breathing slowed, even as reality began creeping back in.
"took it so well, baby. took me so well," he let his lips trail all over your face - kissing your skin, lapping at your tears, nipping at your skin.
sniffles and whimpers were the only noises that you thought were possible as a response right now, your fingers trembling while touching his face as much as you could. you needed to feel him, to know that this was real - that he was real.
"now..." his hand trailed back to his batons, lingering to feel the way your drool still coated one end, "i'm gonna put this to good use. and you, sweetie, are going to ease up for me, okay? can't let your hardwork go to waste, can we?"
you didn't need much to realize that that was far from a question.
after all, Daredevil doesn't need permission, least of all in the middle of the night - when his mind seems as dark and twisted as the streets of Hell's Kitchen.
pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader (my bad ill do more gender neutral next time)
tags: fauxcest, daddy issues, dad!matt, implied sexual content at the end, mental health. (I think thats it?)
border credit: @uzmacchiato
authors note: this is the very first fic im posting on here and its not beta read pls bare with me 🙏 basically I just saw a daddy issues edit on tiktok and well here we go. kind of inspired by the beginning of pinky promise and thank you to murdock circle for giving me the motivation to write. also to sunny for helping me figure out how to layout this post. I hope this comes off the way I wanted it too, let me know if you need more context to it! uhh ily bye <3
tagged people: @sunshine-daydreams0809 @cloudmurdock @vigilantekisser @angelmurdock (and the rest of murdock circle ofc)
Something always turned out wrong.
Whether it be an assignment being turned in late or a betrayal from a friend. Maybe it was her, maybe it was the way things were destined to be.
A path that everyone follows regardless if they planned it or not. It didn't matter how much she cursed at life, that's just how things went. She pictured it as a looming figure pulling the strings of events together like a huge tapestry, all meticulously planned, taking years to finish. But hers was discolored, worn, and frayed at the edges.
It couldn't possibly be the only one, there were many people living different lives with different weights on their shoulders. Burdens that sometimes, didn't have anything to do with what they did. Her burden was the consistent fear that people wouldn't stay and she'd be left behind to be forgotten and never given a second thought. It wasn't her, it was just poor decisions made by their own shortcomings.
That knowledge didn't comfort her, because she still made herself believe that if she wasn't a certain way, then maybe she could've lived a different life than what she had to settle for. And so it continued, following her whenever she went. It influenced her actions, her emotions, her routine, everything. Eventually, it came to a point where she couldn't feel angry anymore.
She was tired.
She also knew where it came from. One person who had loved her from the beginning, aided in the creation of her existence, but who also broke down what was a reflection of himself. Hatred wasn't the word she would use, it was disappointment. But hatred was easier to disguise the deep ache in her soul.
The intricate loneliness that would never dissipate because he would never change for her. It hurt less to not care. So the only way she could ease that ache, the utter disappointment of someone who could never be what she wished he could've been, is to find it in someone else. And maybe she could've gone somewhere else, seeked solace in something that could help her understand. However, it wasn't what she needed. Any choice she made was done consciously for her own benefit. How could she not accept a person who is fully aware of her, who gives her everything she wanted, no everything she needed, to be whole? To be loved, to be listened to, to be able to go to when she's had a rough day?
She's his. He wouldn't leave her.
Matt packs her lunch, matt keeps her in line when she messes up, matt- no. not matt.
Her dad. Dad makes sure she eats all her food, Dad takes care of her when shes sick. And when his princess is really good, which she makes sure to do often, he let's her make a mess all over his fingers. You'd say that this was the definitely the best plan life could have given you. It was finally something that went the way you'd hoped it would go.
A/n:OKAY HOLY SHIT MY FIRST TIME WRITING IDK HOW TO FORMAT SHIT BUT HERE WE GO
Genre: period comfort
Summary: period cramps are a bitch. Good thing your boyfriend isn't :)
Warnings: AFAB!Reader, kinda detailed talk about periods and cramps (which shouldn't have to be a warning but yk)
Other tags: fluff, comfort, domestic Matthew Murdock (save me), mentions of fainting, mentions of PCOS, reader is in Spain without the s, not proofread we die like men, written entirely on Tumblr Mobile.
if anyone asked you how you were feeling, the answer would be Yucky™️. You were on your period, second day to be exact. Your lovely boyfriend was at Mass, as you had declined going due to not feeling well. So you sat at home, waiting for your Naproxen to kick in and save your ass. So you figured, since you're waiting anyway, why not take a shower?
The hot water cascades out of the showerhead, filling the bathroom with steam, warming up your aching body, and washing away the crime scene between your legs to stain the water red. The thing is, your cramps didn't stop with the heat. They didn't even lessen. You weren't alarmed, as cramps didn't give a shit about you. The moment you started to panic was when your Naproxen seemed to have exited the chat, and your cramps started getting worse.
You try your best to push through, just gritting your teeth and continuing to wash your body despite how badly you wanted to rip the wretched organ out with your bare hands. But when you start feeling that familiar light-headedness, you stopped immediately and carefully sat down on the cold tile floor. Because where there's lightheadedness, there's usually fainting. You knew the drill, having been going through this since you were about 15 years old.
The first time it happened, it was the middle of the night. You had woken up with what you thought was nausea, only to end up collapsing the moment you step foot in the bathroom. After a few doctors visits and an ultrasound, you are told that it wasn't PCOS, but rather just a vasovagal response. While other people's brains decided to shut down at the sight of blood, yours decided to shut down when your cramps got too bad.
After waiting for the lightheadedness to pass, you turn off the shower water and step out. It still feels like something is trying to punch it's way out if your uterus, and you barely manage to get some underwear and a pad on before curling up into the silk sheets of your boyfriends bed and crying. You don't know how long you stay there, but before you know it, Matt is home.
Normally, the sight of you almost naked, whimpering and writhing bed, would be enough to make him pop a boner immediately. But this is different. Your cries aren't pleasured, they're pained. And the room smells metallic. Just barely there, but he can smell it.
"Angel?" He asks softly "are you alright?"
"mmfff... h-hurts, baby..." you whine, eyes screwed shut tightly as you wallow.
It doesn't take him long to deduce the situation, and he wordlessly goes to your dresser and pulls out your comfiest shirt and sweats. He dresses you slowly and with utmost care, knowing the discomfort you're experiencing. After that, he retreats to the bathroom for a few moments. You hear his footsteps as he returns, then you feel the bed dip behind you before you are being rolled toward him and onto your back.
"work with me, Angel... I know it hurts... Just give me a second..." He says softly between your whines and protests.
He gently pets your hair and shushes you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he pulls your shirt up a bit to expose your stomach. He then proceeds to place a towel that's wet with something on your stomach. You shiver at the contact, as the towel is cold.
"Rubbing alcohol..." he murmurs in explanation before your stomach suddenly heats up
"and a heating pad." He finishes, pulling your shirt back down.
"thank you, Matt..." you sniffle, wiping your eyes
"don't have to thank me for that, Angel... just rest up, yeah?" He says with a gentle kiss to your pouty lips. And given that you feel like shit, who are you to deny him?
You don't know how long you sleep for, but when you wake up, Matt is in bed with you, now in a plain t-shirt and sweats, sitting against the headboard while his fingers skim over some of his files in braille. Your cramps are gone, and before you can even open your mouth to ask what time it is, he's acting.
"it's a quarter to three, Angel." He says with a soft smile as he presses a piece of your favorite chocolate to your lips.
"you thought of everything, huh?" You ask after swallowing the chocolate
"c'mon. Do you really need to ask?" He hums as he puts his files on the nightstand.
With the files out of the way, he maneuvers you until you're in his lap, your head in the crook of his neck as he wraps his arms around you.
"I take it you're feeling better?" He chuckles quietly
"much..." you nod "seriously, thank you. I felt like I was dying."
He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head before replying, his voice calm and soothing.
So, basically, I got really into Daredevil these past few months, despite being a long time MCU fan, I started watching the show this year!
So I opened up my old Tumblr (used to be in the Sherlock fandom around 2022 and then became inactive cause college) and I was like, alright, time to get into the Daredevil fandom.....oh right, I forgot how we do this 😭
So I randomly texted the first account that showed up after searching #daredevil in order to ask around: What are the like "big" fic writers out here? (In my old fandom we had a few famous ones) And which accounts post like daily memes or stuff, who's famous and well known, and just rec me accounts to follow who post mainly daredevil content basically.
I need my feed to be Matt Murdock guysHELP
hi!!
firstly, welcome to hell’s kitchen family 😌↕️ okay so let’s dissect it one by one. also btw i’m on the matt murdock x reader side of the fandom who occasionally jumped from ship to ship.
1. so if you’re looking for #The fic writer(s) of daredevil fandom (especially if you’re looking for the x reader ones), it’s @bellaxgiornata and @pastafossa hands down. Bella’s Falling For the Devil and Pasta’s The Red Thread are so iconic. they’re actually why i fell in love with an x reader fanfic btw. and why i decided to actually join the fandom.
2. @hellskitchenswhore is basically matt murdock x reader’s library of alexandria.
3. on top of that, @bunmurdock writes one of The most delicious fics and thoughts i have read of our darling matt.
4. also definitely check the murdock circle on Bun’s pinned post for your daily needs of daredevil content. a lot of us write too and they’re so worth reading!
all in all, thank you for the ask! i hope i helped a little. once again, welcome! 🤍
