daredevilkink | Prompt Post #4

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Prompt Post #4

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I need Matt, raised in a catholic orphanage knowing the bible and believing that homosexuality is wrong and when he becomes a teenager he realizes that he is gay and it makes him feel guilty/dirty/wrong/etc. he maybe tries to fix the gay in him but obvs that's not going to work. It's very important to me that Matt doesn't think other being gay is wrong, just himself which is something I see in my local catholic community.

Eventually he goes to college and he's rooming with Foggy and starts to fall for him and his desires are getting worse. He goes to confession and admits his sins and does hail Mary's until he falls asleep and doing everything he can to ignore it.

But maybe he gets drunk during their college years or his feelings aren't revealed until the Daredevil reveal when he's dizzy from blood loss or SOMETHING and when Foggy finds out he tries to start a relationship with Matt because it could really go places and he thinks it would be a good idea and Matt goes along with it because this is what he's wanted so bad.

And every time he goes to confession he admits he's in a homosexual relationship and (especially if you go the college era) his priest is unforgiving and suggests Matt have a large penance (which he takes because he is having sex out of wedlock, sodomy, with another man, the list goes on) and it's not the best for his self-esteem but being with Foggy has made him the happiest he's been in years so it's worth it.

+10 if there's a bunch of angst
+100 if Matt originally rejects the relationship idea before going fuck it
+1000 if Foggy doesn't realize what's going on at first when Matt is kinda upset after going to mass
My first born child if Matt switches churches to Father Lanthom's who is much more accepting and stops punishing Matt for something that's natural to him

i still want this, peeps.

LEVERAGE: i want sophie devereaux stealing something important from daredevil, or lying on the witness stand in front of matt murdock, and he knows something's not right, but he can't tell what it is. she doesn't sound like she's lying? (FOGGY HELP.)

PSYCH: i want shawn spencer for some reason showing up in new york to solve a case - with all of his psychic nonsense and tomfoolery - while matt gets really confused and winds up with six headaches. ("THE SPIRITS," spencer starts. "NO they don't," daredevil says.)

LITERALLY EVERY/ANY OTHER SHOW WITH A COMPULSIVE/CAREER LIAR: i want matt to have to deal with ALL of them? (i am missing some, i know it, but i can't think of any others right now.)

Steve puts a bun in Matt's oven. And by that I mean I want an old-school, non-A/B/O, totally scientifically and medically impossible man oven.

Just give me original flavor mpreg with some initial body horror and angst, but with a happy ending for Matt, Steve, and their impossible baby.

Oh my gosh, I love this so much. Foggy is so great.

look I just. I reread Discworld recently so like.

Matt. up against Moist von Lipwig. just imagine that.

Good Catholic boy Matt Murdock, possibly helped along by the nuns at St. Agnes laying down the law when he was a teenager, doesn't masturbate. Pile of religious issues, pile of guilt, maybe layered on top of the fact that he just doesn't think he's worth making feel good.

Thing is, that gets really tricky, REALLY fast when your super hearing inadvertently picks up someone's sexytimes, or your super smell can tell when folks have gone at it in a room. Extra BONUS tricky when your super sense of touch makes fabric rubbing against an erection damn near unbearable.

So. I want a fic where Matt has to deal with this on a fairly regular basis. And then, eventually, someone catches on and helps the poor guy out. 5+1 set up might work well? Would prefer Matt/Foggy, but I'm not picky.

Prompting myself, and anyone else who wants to have a go. :D

For Wesley, perhaps due to in utero exposure to *magic scifi substance*, pregnancy is a possibility. He's always known, but he keeps it very, very quiet. He hasn't even told Fisk, and they've been having sex for years, when they need to unwind, or just need release. (They can be as romantic or as blase about their physical relationship as the filler likes.) Unfortunately, Wesley gets careless. And then - ?

Run free, plot bunny, run free.

I've been reading too much Nelson vs Murdock inspired fic lately and it's making me cry. I need some fluff.

Unspecified time after the end of series 1, Foggy is in the know and he and Matt have hashed things out between them; their friendship is even stronger now for it.

Established relationship or first time fluff. Just the two of them being unabashedly happy to be together.

*bites nails*

Foggy may not look like much to the average person but he's hot shit on the dancefloor, totally makes his partner feel like the sexiest person ever.

And then sex after the club closes.

THIS IS VERY RELEVANT TO MY LIFE RIGHT NOW AND I NEED IT. PLEASE.

Pairing: Fisk/Wesley (eventually)
Summary: Wesley's past catches up to him at a critical juncture.
Warnings: Medical examination without consent. Imprisonment. And mpreg, obviously.

Wesley stepped out of Fisk’s penthouse bathroom re-folding his handkerchief. He tucked it back into his pocket and swallowed.

Fisk, in the middle of his breakfast, pretended not to notice, or maybe he really didn’t notice, Wesley’s absence and quick return. Wesley perched on the edge of a chair at the kitchen table and glanced at Fisk, the omelette in front of him, and then ripped his eyes away. He breathed lightly through his mouth and stared resolutely out the window as Fisk’s knife and fork scraped against his plate.

“Are you well, Wesley?” Fisk asked.

“Yes.” Wesley made himself drag his tablet to him. They would go through Fisk’s itinerary for the day, and with any luck now his stomach was settled.

Fisk had insisted on making him some toast, even though he’d said - emphatically - that he wasn’t hungry. A slightly burnt smell reached them from the kitchen counter.

“Excuse me,” Wesley said, and made for the bathroom again.

He got through the rest of the breakfast meeting. Fisk suggested the morning off; Wesley smiled wanly and said it was nothing to worry about. Fisk shrugged, dismissed him, and now Wesley was tight-lipped and still feeling nauseous as he looked for the black Cadillac. Some idiot cop had probably made Francis pull out of the tow zone. Hopefully Francis had his name, and Wesley could see the officer was thanked for his dedicated service.

Forget Fisk’s breakfast, the entire city had a particular stink today. The smell of exhaust from the passing cars, the garbage, cigarettes. Wesley ran his eye down the block, looking again for the car. He could ask Francis to stop at a pharmacy. Francis would be discrete.

He paged back through his mental calendar. Six weeks. God. Damn. It.

He was looking down at his phone when he became aware of someone in his path. He drew up short, scowling, expecting to see some youth with the cord of their earbuds dangling like a malnourished tail.

Instead it was a tall, solidly-built man with a military crew cut. Wesley glanced left and right, and saw two more with almost identical haircuts converging on him while looking casual. Shit.
Crew-Cut spread his hands as if they were old pals. “James Wesley.” It wasn’t a question.

Wesley smiled reflexively. “Yes?”

The man smiled back, but it wasn’t exactly a smile.

He didn't have time to reach for his piece, or hit the panic button on his phone, or do much of anything except turn the smile into an incredulous sort of grimace. A pair of hands got a hood over his head and he was lifted, bodily, he felt his feet leave the ground even as he started twisting to fight it. He guessed - rightly, but in a confused, head-swimming way - that the hood was soaked with something, because he heard a car door slam, and then his consciousness untethered from his body, and everything went numb and black.

* * *

Wesley woke up, turned his head, and was almost sick. He spat to get the worst of the sour taste out of his mouth and then, too weak to move, he let himself go limp and just breathe.

The first solid, real feeling was the cold surface under his cheek. Metal. He opened his eyes and gradually became aware of the room, as it coalesced from the white noise of whatever drugs were in his system.

He became aware that the hard, cold feeling was… everywhere. From his cheek to his shoulders, down his back. He was naked. He shivered. He moved his legs and arms experimentally, but nothing seemed to happen, except a few starts and jerks of his fingers and toes.

He blinked. The room looked blurry. It wasn’t just the drugs. They had taken his glasses. He couldn’t make out much of anything except dark walls and the bright light above him. The room smelled antiseptic. There was a heart monitor. His heartbeat was jogging along on the screen, rapid. He could feel the leads pulling at his chest as he gasped for breath.

He heard an electronic lock click. A door opened behind him, where he couldn’t see. “He’s awake,” a female voice reported.

Wesley pulled at his straps again. “What is this? Who are you?”

“Please stay calm,” the same voice said. She sounded young.

Wesley lay still for a long four seconds, and then yanked so hard at his bonds he should have bounced the gurney. It was bolted down. “Listen, you bitch -”

“Ah, Mr. Wesley. You’re definitely awake.”

This voice was male, deep, and pure slime. It got in Wesley’s ears like oil. He hated it instantly.

“Where am I? Who the hell are you?” Wesley was looking at the blurry figures upside-down, from where he was strapped down.

“You’re curious. That’s a good sign. No fog from the sedatives? Did you sleep well?”

“Fuck you,” Wesley said.

“Let’s not get off on the wrong foot,” the man said. He was standing over Wesley now, with what looked like a whole medical team, a flock of masked helpers with smocks and gloves. They started sliding trays into place, metal jingling against sanitized metal.

“What are you doing?” Wesley was going to stay in control of this situation. He was going to stay in control. He jerked his arm away from the needle, but he was strapped down tight. “What are you doing?”

“Blood samples,” the doctor in charge - he seemed to be in charge - said, sounding bored, sounding like he was only answering the question because the answer was of no use to Wesley whatsoever.

"Why?" Wesley demanded.

No answer this time, just a rush of activity to get a rubber band around his arm and gloved hands twisting the bend of his elbow to the lights.

Wesley craned his neck to watch as the needle plunged into his arm and the vial started filling with blood.

“What’s your name?” he demanded again.

“You can call me Dr. Michaels.” The man with the clipboard flashed him what was probably a smile, under his paper face mask. The corners of his grey eyes crinkled slightly.

“Is that your real name?” Wesley asked.

Dr. Michaels smirked.

“We’ll find out. When my employer finds out -”

“Wilson Fisk isn’t a credible concern,” Dr. Michaels said. “We’re beyond even his reach.”

They popped the needle out of his vein, and taped down a wad of cotton. Wesley flexed his fingers and tried to think. Who were they, and more importantly, what did they want. Get an answer to that, Wesley reminded himself, and start bargaining. Stay in control.

Dr. Michaels bent over him with a thermometer. "Open your mouth."

Wesley didn't. First bargain. They wanted his temperature, he wanted answers.

"Mr. Wesley, please cooperate. It will make everyone's lives easier."

Wesley peered at him and curled his lip.

"Nurse," Dr. Michaels said coldly.

Fingers jabbed into his cheeks above the tendons at his jaw, and the thermometer slid in. Wesley choked on it at first, gagging as it slid right by his tongue and set off his gag reflex, and it brought tears to his eyes. He coughed and sputtered as it was readjusted and hands kept his mouth closed. He tried to force it out with his tongue but one of the masked helpers held it in place, while the tears dripped down his face.

Dr. Michaels was examining his body. Wesley was cold, goosefleshed all over, and shivering on the metal gurney. This was more vivisection than examination: they didn't care that he was alive, that his chest was heaving and he was closer to full-on panic by the second. Every touch of those latex gloves was making his muscles jump, making the nausea heavier in his stomach.

"Normal external development. His exposure must have been minimal. Parts per thousand. Unstrap his ankles."

Dr. Michaels was putting on fresh gloves.

What happened next, Wesley fought hard; it left bruises on his arms for weeks after. But no matter how hard he fought, how much proof he had that he didn't just let it happen to him, it wasn’t enough. He never forgot. He never forgave himself, or them.

Somewhere along the way, they yanked the thermometer out of his mouth and he sobbed out loud.

It was just about finished when the door opened. Wesley’s heart rate was through the roof, heading for cardiac event territory.

“Results, Doctor.”

“Anything unusual?”

“Blood hCG’s at ten thousand mIU.”

“That’s interesting.” Dr. Michaels took the paperwork from the scrub-draped assistant, and ran his eyes over it. He turned the page. He smiled.

"Well. We're going to be seeing a lot of each other. Congratulations, Mr. Wesley. You’re pregnant."

So, Karen and Claire are lawyers and best friends and they have a firm ("Page and Temple, attorneys at law" "Temple and Page, it sounds better"). Karen feels they're not doing enough and decides to help some more in a less legal way. (blind!Karen is optional, but I'd love Karen with supersenses)

Of course, Foggy is their secretary and Matt is the hot blind nurse who patches Karen up.

+Karen/Claire and even some Matt/Foggy would be perfect, but gen is very cool too.

Maybe the reason Fisk takes advantage is because he knows now that Castle is there, Matt will turn to him as an ally instead? And Fisk is over-whelmed by the jealousy and possessiveness that that thought triggers in him...

Hahaha oh god I love to imagine the conversation that Foggy had with his parents about Daredevil.

STILT-MAN

Thanks! I don't have a whole fic for it in me, but I couldn't resist. :3

OP has never been happier to have promoted something, because this is the sweetest fic I've ever read. I'm also the anon who spitballed the 'Roger wrote all these songs' thought, and thank you for working it in. Now I'm imagining Foggy humming 'Out Tonight' when Matt's there and he can tell that she's happy, happier than the vague sort you are when you like a song, and Claire doesn't really want to talk about it but it kicks them into Detective Mode and

Thank you, Anon.

You know, the one he always wears, with the raised 'F' on it? Make me feel things about Foggy's tie clip.

Yay! You have just made me incredibly happy - OP

thank you so much, OP! I'm glad you liked it. I think Mark and Maureen would've done their best to keep true to the songs, preserved them as much as they could working them in, and Roger's name is definitely on the playbill as the lyricist and like, Claire remembers sitting on the couch listening to Roger playing and hearing his songs, and the two of them kidding around about some of them, and when she hears them on stage and sees pretend-herself swinging around on a pole on stage it's like

she remembers Roger strumming the guitar and singing this song at her, remembers laughing because he used some of the things she actually said as lyrics (we don't need any money, I always get it for free for example), and looking back she can't believe how young and playful she was and

("I have never meowed like that," she'd argued once, and Roger had laughed and made a claw and went, "what, like--mrrow"

"you make a terrible feline," she'd laughed)

so like. that song is one of her favorites from the show, from the mixtape. and when she hears Foggy humming it (I've had a knack from way back of breaking the rules once I learn the game) she can't help that smile, even as she's stitching Matt up, and maybe she hums along too the way she sometimes does when she listens to her old mixtape

and Foggy's like, "oh my god, Claire, you know this song??"

and she goes, "uh, yeah, kinda, I, uh. funny story, but no time for that now, Matt, stay still"

(Foggy is now deeply intrigued. and kind of suspicious. and maybe the next time they come over Claire's had a shit day and put on the mixtape (and she totally listened to it after the whole thing with the Russians and with Matt, just popped it in and listened to it three times over) and Foggy recognizes those songs except. they're different? more--raw, stripped down, not edited for stage musicals.

Claire just mentions that she knew the lyricist pretty well. and Matt's definitely heard it playing in the background before, he's been over enough times to have caught some of the lyrics at least and compared them to his friend's bombastic renditions. maybe he figured it out?)

Also, enjoy the vacation! Don't spend the whole time writing DD fic (like I did the other week!!)

Matt and Foggy go shopping for some sort of window treatments for Matt's place. Now that they're together and Foggy is staying over regularly, he insists that something be done about those lights shining in Matt's windows.

Domestic fluffiness, please!

nah its an easy mistake to make. thanks for the clarification

Make it a friendship thing between people who appreciate territoriality, a size kink thing where Thor can hold Matt up against the wall with one hand while undoing his shirt with the other, a cute pre-slash thing where they bond over packaged food because Matt appreciates their familiarity in oversensitive ways and Thor just really likes Pop Tarts, a wider Avengers crossover where Matt and Thor get left behind together a bit too often and the others are totally trying to set them up, or literally anything else.

I've noticed that Thor seems to get left out of crossovers and that saddens me.

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Page 75 of 209

Prompt Post #4

Matt/Foggy Struggling with homophobia

matt + career liars, crossovers

Matt/Steve, mpreg

Re: [FILL] Reasonable Accommodation

Re: matt + career liars, crossovers

Matt/Foggy; Super senses makes it difficult not to masturbate

Fisk/Wesley MPREG

Post-series Matt/Foggy fluff

Re: Stick V. Nelson-Murdock Part 2.1

Foggy/ any , sex on the dancefloor

Re: Hannibal crossover/fusion

Where It Hurts 1/?

Karen is Daredevil (sorta role reversal everyone AU)

Re: Fisk/Matt, prison sex

Re: Minifill Gen: Foggy's food budget for two

Re: Any Male Villain/Foggy-everybody finds out

Re: Pacific Rim, Matt and Foggy are drift compatible

Re: minifill: out tonight

Gen, Foggy's tie clip

Re: Gen or Matt/Foggy. Foggy is going blind

Re: minifill: out tonight

Re: Gen or Matt/Foggy. Foggy is going blind

Matt/Foggy, established, actual curtain!fic

Re: Foggy + Truth Serum

Matt and Thor (or Matt/Thor)