dear god i need him now please
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mattmurdeaux · 2 days
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"There's no denying a distinct sensuality to these depictions of the saint which often show his youthful body sparingly covered, hips shifting with contrapposto, narrowly waisted, and his gaze cast toward heaven, with an expression caught between torment and transcendence."
- A description of Matt Murdock St. Sebastian, the saint with the sluttiest aesthetic in all of Catholic canon ✨
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askmuppetmurdock · 2 days
Do you believe there are other dimensions out there? Different realities where different versions of yourselves exist?
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M: Did this actually happen? I'm not supposed to have my glasses, right? F: Oh, who knows. Continuity's a bitch sometimes. Bonus:
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[ID in Alt]
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jxthics · 1 day
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sensory overload
[id: a drawing of matt murdock sitting in a subway car. he has one hand on his cane, and the other over his face, pushing up his sunglasses. a water bottle and a briefcase are in his lap. the entire drawing is red, with white radar circles radiating out from his head. /end id]
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chrlie-cox · 15 hours
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Do you remember what it was like to see?
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devils-dares · 2 days
when you have the chance, can you write about matt x touch deprived! reader?
hi! thanks for your request. I'm working my way through the requests i got before i closed them.
“Hey there, koala bear.” He says as you wake. Koala bear was an apt nickname for you, as you woke up holding his forearm in your hands and your head resting on his shoulder.
“Good morning.” You say, moving off his arm back onto your pillow. Matt gasps at the pins and needles that flood his arm when you get off, clenching and unclenching his fist to get the blood flowing.
“How’d you sleep?” He asks.
“Like a baby, sorry for taking your arm.” He shakes his head.
“Don’t apologize, it’s cute.”
You watched as he got ready, brushing his hair and buttoning his shirt. You took his tie from him and tied it for him. It took you much longer to do it and it always came out slightly crooked, but he’d wear it proudly with the distinction that you did it for him.
“Are you sure you have to leave?” You ask, climbing out of bed as he puts his suit jacket on.
“Sadly, yes.” He opens his arms as you walk directly into his chest, holding him close and hearing his heartbeat.
“I’m gonna miss you.” He laughs, wrapping his arms around you.
“I’ll miss you too, bug.”
Matt’s favorite time of day was when he came home, whether from the office or patrol. He’d always brace himself for impact when you got up from wherever you were resting.
“Matty!” You yell and he grunts as you hug him.
“Hi honey.” He says, lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. You rest your head on his shoulder as he walks the two of you through the apartment and sits you down on the couch in his lap.
“How was your day?” You ask, your finger coming up to trace his face, feeling his days old stubble prickle under your touch.
“It was good, missed you.”
“I missed you too, my love.”
“Alright, let me change and then I’ll cook dinner for us.”
“I can cook dinner, you just came home.”
“And I know you’ve been working all day too, let me cook.”
Cooking with you was also Matt’s favorite time of day. You’d come padding out into the kitchen and cling to him while he stirred the food. He’d sway back and forth while you held on to him, muttering something about how it was a crime how warm he always was. Today was no different.
His head rested on top of your chin, hand on your back as he held you close with the other stirring the food. He puts the spoon down for a minute and holds you, burying his nose in your hair and wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Have I told you I love you?” He asks, smile growing when he hears your laugh.
“You tell me just about every five minutes.”
“Unacceptable, I have to make it two at the most, I love you.”
“I love you too, Matthew.”
The shower shutting off is what woke you in the middle of the night. You blinked awake, rubbing the sleep away as you heard the bathroom door open.
“Matt?” You call out.
“Sorry, bug. Did I wake you?”
“No.” He walks to the dresser to pull on a pair of sweats.
“Was it a busy night?”
“Quiet night, first in a while, only got a few bruises.”
“No blood?”
“No blood.”
“Good, c’mere.” You pull on his arms to have him lay down, his head on your chest over your heart.
“Sleep, Matt.” Your fingers card through his hair, a tried and true method of putting him to sleep quickly and sure enough, his soft snores fill the room.
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the baby girl/ meowification of matthew murdock
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Service Dog
A/N: This was inspired by my families attempt to get my dad to agree adopting a dog and training him to be a therapy dog, so either I can take it with me on a bad anxiety day or to an exam or my mom into school. Service dogs aren't the same as therapy dogs, but they help people too.
Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader (it's mostly gender neutral but then I used girlfriend, I am so sorry. Wanted it to be gender neutral)
Warnings: Fluff
Summary: You want a dog; Matt needs a little convincing...
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Matt could hear your heartbeat from the street. It was fast and nearly all over the place. You were excited about something. A smile etched his way onto his face, his curiosity building too. Your step pattern was fast, like you were speed walking to their office.
The door downstairs opened as Matt closed the case file he finished reading. Your steps grew louder, your heartbeat hammering even faster against your ribcage. He could hear the hesitate to open of the office door and the deep sight you let out every time you were nervous.
You greeted Foggy with a sweet smile and a wave before walking into Matt’s office. The man in question sat in his chair with his arms slightly crossed and an eyebrow raised. He “looked” into your general direction. “What’s got your heart raising like that, sweetheart?” You chuckled nervously. You pushed the chair away from you and sat down. “I know we talked about it a lot. And I know you have your opinions about it but hear me out.”
Matt sighted and rubbed his temples with his fore and middle finger while you bit your lip. “We talked about it. We aren’t ready. The firm is still not there were it used to be and with all the Blib related cases both Fog and I are swimming in it’s not a great idea to start-“ You abruptly stood up and walked around your boyfriend’s office table.
Pulling out your phone to look at the picture, you stopped behind Matt to wrap yourself around his shoulders. “Honey, I know. And I know what a big responsibility a dog brings with them but listen. There is a vet rescuing dogs from farms which don’t want the puppies and putting them online. I also found a dog school specialising in training service dogs for disabled people. Service dogs can be taken into a court room. So if I can’t take care of him or take him to work he could assist you. You have to work with the dog because he should lead you and not you running off. Fog agreed to take him if the devil is needed.”
Matt sighted. Clearly his best friend was on board with his girlfriend’s idea. “I’m not gonna win this, am I?” You chuckled and kissed his scratchy chin. “Nope.” Matt nodded before making a gesture to tell him about the dog. You squealed slightly, cautious not to screech into his ear. “Okay, there are three potential dogs. First there is a brown Newfoundland. He looks like a friendly brown bear cub and it’s so fluffy. And then there is a German Sheppard. The poor thing looks so lost in the picture but has the most beautiful brown eyes after yours of course. And last but not least a Golden Retriever. I wish I could show you but the dog screams friendly.” Matt chuckled. “Well they all sound good. But they all are big dogs.” You sighted. “I know. But the flat is big enough for them. So what do you say?”
Matt tipped his head back. A sign he was thinking about it. “Once my dad accidentally bought a dog calendar for the kitchen and in January there was this big fluffy Newfoundlander. I wanted one but dad told me he would be too big to fit into the apartment. But the Sheppard sounds good too. Good guard dogs. What are their genders?” “Both females.” Matt nodded. “Let’s get the Newfoundlander.” You squealed while jumping up and down.
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kamillahn · 2 days
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Daredevil ‘Penny and Dime’ (2.04)
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Daredevil parallels that rip my heart out 3/?
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briefcasejuice · 1 day
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marvel's daredevil — 3.09 charlie cox as matt murdock
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amchapel · 2 days
Idk if it already exists but I need a Matt/reader fic where she fakes an orgasm because Matt is so close to doing enough, but not really, and Y/n is too afraid to say something, and when she fakes it (convincingly, might I add, to Matt’s wholesome confusion) he’s like genuinely offended, but in a flabbergasted way lol
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Four is Enough - [M.M.]
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Pairings: Matt Murdock x Black Fem!Reader
Summary: All the things Matt has fallen in love with
Word Count: 1.8k words
Content: fluff, brief mentions of sex (very brief),
( Masterlist )
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A/N: I was very inspired by this post by @courtforshort15. Check out their blog, she's got a lot of great work!
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Matthew has often been annoyed by the world, finding it too abrasive. He has also been annoyed with himself, wishing he could just experience it like everyone else. He hated being so sensitive, under constant attack. It felt as if the devil himself were trying to persecute poor Matty and swallow him in his cold embrace. He always wished he were stronger. But then you walked into his life.
It was like learning to breathe again. Everything you did, everything you were, was new and refreshing. For the first time, Matthew didn’t feel personally offended by the unexpected but comforted. This last year with you has been the best year of his life, and he has the feeling that anytime with you will feel that way. He fell hard and fast. He fell entirely and ardently.
You have become a part of his life, the very purpose of it. You are intertwined with his very being. That’s not to say Matt wasn’t a person before you, just a very different one. He had a favourite song, a favourite food, a favourite day of the week, etc. But once he met you, that all changed.
Touch: Matt has always preferred silk. He didn’t get to indulge in the textile often so he settled for worn cotton and lots of fabric softener. It wasn’t something he complained about, though it was a battle he fought every day. The roughness in his crisp button-downs haunted him less like “nails on a chalkboard” and more like “persistent tv static”.
You experimented with your hair, trying many different styles, but protection was always the focus. Satin and silk were a part of your daily wardrobe. You lined your hoodies with it and tied back your hair with scarves. Matt once gifted you silk scrunchies and you usually wear one on your wrist. He runs his thumb along your pulse point and the hair tie every time he holds your hand.
You were soft as well, your lotion making your skin feel just as smooth as the satin in your hair. He felt comforted when resting his arm on yours, as you guide him around an unfamiliar space. All the newness around him but you a steady anchor, keeping him close to shore.
He loved the feeling of your nails on his scalp, the way your fingers traced his form. Under your delicate touch, he felt precious, sacred. Matthew wasn’t accustomed to being treated softly. As a child and now, people are careful with him like an empty bottle of beer on its way to the trash, careful not to break it but not because it holds value, because it would cause a hassle.
But when you hold him, he feels like ancient pottery. You run your fingers over his grooves and cracks looking for his story. You treasure him. You marvel at him. You treat him with care because he is special to you, because he is enough as he is. Matt works hard to make sure that you feel the same. Your constant reassurances make little progress against baked-in catholic guilt.
He knew that your hair was important to you and he loved running his fingers through your curls. The first time you spent the night at his place you knew he was special, someone that was going to mean a lot to you, because he purchased some silk scarves and placed them by “your side” of the bed. He didn’t make a big fuss about it, he didn’t even acknowledge it.
Smell: Matt’s favourite smells are cocoa butter and coconut. He realised that on a Thursday morning. You walked through the office door and he could feel a shift in the room. You started apologizing for being late, pleas for absolution falling quickly from your lips. He could feel the chill hanging off of you, he could taste the water in your hair dancing through the air.
“You shouldn’t run around with wet hair. You’ll get sick.” You turned to Matt as you took off your coat.
“Sorry Mom, I didn’t have time to let it dry.”
The whole rest of the day Matt could only smell you. As you crossed or uncrossed your legs or moved to pass him a file, the smell of cocoa soaking into your skin would greet him. When you turned your head to look at whatever had caught your attention coconut would reach out, the subtle sweetness wrapping around his nostrils.
There were other notes that Matt didn’t quite recognise before, but now he can’t imagine his life without them. They float around his home and your clothes, he doesn’t think his bathroom has ever smelled as nice.
When he misses you, or he’s worried about a “night out”, he’ll ask if he can help with your hair. The first time he did this you thought he was joking but decided to let him, telling yourself you could repair the damage, salvage the look.
It actually didn’t turn out too bad. He was thorough in running the product through your hair and he was much gentler with your comb than you’ve ever been. His braids could have been a little tighter, but all in all, he did a pretty okay job. It felt nice to be taken care of, to be able to trust someone with something so important.
Matt enjoys it when the oils and products sink into his skin. It’s like he can take you anywhere– “(Y/n) on the go”. Sometimes he borrows your lotion and you pretend not to notice. You’ll make comments about how soft he feels or how nice he smells, and let him believe he’s pulled a fast one on you.
Hearing: Matt’s favourite sound is your laugh. It’s something he fell in love with very early on. He loves the way it builds, starting in your head, a soft puff of air leaving your button nose. Then it travels to your gut rolling and billowing out of you. Your laugh is precious and worthy of celebration, for it isn’t passed out liberally. There’s been a few times Matt was confused by it, not truly believing he had earned it. Or worse, there was a time he thought he had earned it and it was being weaponized against him.
“Oh, that’s not good.” Matt’s smile was tight as he worked his hands over his cane.
You spoke through the fingers you had just brought to your face, “What’s not good?”
“I just asked you out on a date and you found it so funny you giggled.” Matt’s head fell as he said this and your heart plummeted to the soles of your feet.
“No, no, I wasn’t giggling…er well– well I was but not– not like that.” You almost choked on your words as you spit them out. “It’s just I’m really happy and a bit shocked, that’s all. I just… I never thought this would happen and now that it has, I can’t stop grinning. I wish you could see how big my smile is, it’s so big. The giggle…it was just my smile spilling over a bit.”
Matt considered your words for a second before you saw his lips slip into a smirk. “D'ya promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
It’s warming and bright, like the crackle of fresh bread’s crust. It coats all inhabitants of Earth in a blanket of light, torching even the darkest corners. Your laugh is hypnotic. Matt has been working on blocking out all “unnecessary” sounds. He thinks it may have backfired because when you laugh he can hear nothing else, and he has no desire to. More than once Foggy has teased him about that.
One time, they were working on a complicated neighbourhood dispute that involved: a broken deadbolt, a crepe pan, and a Pomeranian. Matt found himself drowning in the waves of your laughter crashing against his shores. You were speaking with a potential client who was explaining an amusing predicament they had found themselves in, while Matt was trying to commit the sound perfectly to his memory. He was interrupted when Foggy slugged him in the arm. He had been rambling on for a minute and a half before he realized Matt wasn’t listening.
Or maybe his favourite sound is the way you say his name. There’s the sputtering giggle of his name that he hears when he surprises you from behind. Your hearing isn’t as good as his and he likes to put good use to his “super-ninja-training.”
Matt always wakes up before you and soaks up your presence. You wake up later and sneak into the kitchen, assuming your lover is still asleep. While you start making your coffee Matt comes in behind you and spins you around. In his arms, you squeal out his name and he can hear the smile on your face.
There was the challenging, teasing tone that you would say his name. The way “Murdock” would slip off your tongue in a playful warning. There was the sweet, excited way you would exclaim “Matty!” when he surprised you with a nice gesture or words. There was the way you would sing his name to get his attention. There was the way you would purr his name when asking a favour. The way you would cry out his name as he continued to bury his head between your thighs.
Taste: If anyone asked Matt what his favourite flavours were he would answer with something like: “The taste of paprika, cayenne pepper, and thyme.” These seasonings were staples in your dishes. You liked cooking and you liked taking care of your boy. Matt had told you about some of his past and it broke your heart that he felt so…alone for most of it. This was a small way that you could try to assure him that he wasn’t. You make it a fun game of having him guess what you’re whippin' up.
Matt’s actual favourite flavours are mango, cherry, and peppermint. You lose your chapstick constantly. You have so many, but you never know where any of them are. You buy them in multipacks and anytime you see them. You usually stick to the classics, getting a little more adventurous during the holidays. Matt remembers a time when you screamed for him and when he arrived you jumped in his arms. After calming down you placed a tube of chapstick in his hands and told him that you had finished it. You ordered some pad thai in celebration.
Sometimes Matt misses his sight. He mourns the things he feels he’s missing out on, like your smile, your hair, or your favourite colour. You have told him before that you love him entirely, for all that he is and isn't. You've told him that there is nothing you would change. He may not be able to see you, but his four senses are enough. They are enough to love you, so completely.
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Tag List: @brinaslittlefreak @defrosting-strawberries @fanfics-intead-of-depression @heejinw0rld @jedisstark @qualitybeliverflower @rudy-the-winged-wolf @wannapizzamymindposts @whoreforklitz
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coolthingsguyslike · 2 days
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goat-boy-sounds · 3 days
I love frank and matt because they hate each other but also if they were in pacific rim they would be drift compatible
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askmuppetmurdock · 2 days
Foggy, what's your favorite time of the day?
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F: The skyline's beautiful at sunset. Thanks for stopping by!
[ID in Alt]
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