Multi Fandom Reader Inserts

Two Days - Matt Murdock

Reluctantly, you pulled yourself out of bed, you hadn't slept in two whole days and you knew that your boyfriend was growing increasingly worried, as was your best friend. You shimmied out of your pyjama trousers and walked over to your wardrobe before grabbing a hoodie and a pair of jeans, you pulled them on and grabbed your headphones from your bedside table before plugging them into your phone and sneaking down to the kitchen in the house you shared with Frank Castle, your best friend, hoping you wouldn't get caught as you swiped a packet of cigarettes from the kitchen counter, along with a lighter, and tried to stealthily exit the house. You made your way out and gently shut the door behind you, it was raining although only a bit, and you paused on the doorstep to take a cigarette and light it before actually walking. The air was cold, as was expected due to it being around six in the morning, the sky was only just becoming a pale blue, and the rain made everything seem grey but not melancholy.

The second he heard the door close, Frank shot up from his bed, got dressed, and barged into your room, only to find it empty. This had happened twice in a row now. He didn't understand, although he tried to. He knew you hadn't slept.
"Y/n!" Frank called, hoping you were still inside the house, but when he got no answer, he grew worried and practically tore the front door off of its hinges as he stepped outside and walked along the way he knew you would've taken.

You were walking down the street, music pounding in your ears, when you felt a hand on your shoulder; you turned around to see Frank, who looked relived but also incredibly worried.
"Frankie," you took your headphones off and paused your music, "What's up?"
"Why the fuck aren't you in bed?" He asked, you shrugged and the two of you fell into step beside one another as you continued walking.
"I couldn't sleep," you said honestly, offering him a cigarette, but he declined, "Needed something to do."
"At six in the morning?" He raised an eyebrow and you nodded; it wasn't often that you slept, but you followed the routine of staying up all night and then sleeping all day, however for the past two days you had found it incredibly difficult to fall asleep.
"I don't expect you to understand, Frank," you said solemnly, knowing he was probably trying, which you were grateful for, but also knowing he failed in trying to understand, "I don't even understand why I can't sleep."
"Have you tried meds?" He asked, you shook your head and sighed deeply.
"Y'know, Frankie," you looked up at the sky and could see the light rain gently falling, "You're my best friend, and I love you for that. But you're also a hero."
"Nah," he shook his head and looked at you, he had known you since he had met you in high school, "Not a hero, kid. Y/n, you're the only person I got left, you know that right?"
"I know," you said, resting your hand on his shoulder, "I also know that you're worried."
"What kinda shitty friend would I be if I wasn't?" He smiled and although it was bruised, battered smile, it was an honest one.
"You're not a shitty friend," you said, walking down the road that lead back home, "You're a good friend, Frank."

"Red," Frank called, entering Matt's apartment, "Hey, Red!"
"Frank?" Matt yawned, getting out of bed and pulling on a pair of jeans before meeting your best friend in the living room space. He could tell Frank was agitated and worried from the strong, unsteady heart beating he could hear, he could also hear how the infamous Punisher was twiddling his thumbs nervously.
"We need to talk," Frank signed, plonking himself on Matt's sofa, "About y/n." Matt's heart sank as he sat beside your best friend and let out a shaky breath.
"What's wrong with y/n?" Matt asked, trying to seem calm when in reality he was already blaming himself for acts of violence that hadn't happened.
"She ain't sleeping," Frank said, and Matt let out a silent sigh of relief that nothing had happened to you because of him, "Got any idea as to why?"
"No," Matt said honestly, he knew Frank didn't want to be there, that your best friend didn't even want the conversation to be happening, "Where is she now?"
"At home, watching shitty films on Netflix." Frank answered, watching as Matt nodded slowly.

When you heard the door open, you honestly expected it to be Frank, but when you saw Matt leaning against the door frame, you grinned.
"Hey," you gently took his hand in yours and ran the tips of your fingers over the callouses, the old scars from when he first became Daredevil, "Don't you have work?"
"Work can wait," Matt said, allowing you to walk him to the sofa, he sat down on it and let out an approving groan of something incoherent when you sat on his lap, "Have you slept at all, y/n?"
"Nah," you told him truthfully, knowing you couldn't lie to him, "Dunno why. Just can't."
"Y/n," his voice was stern and very much the same one he used in court, "You need to sleep."
"You sound like Frankie" you commented, Matt stiffened slightly at the comparison but he didn't dare let you catch on as he pressed a kiss to your temple.
"That's because we're worried," he said gently, you shook your head and wrapped your arms around him tightly, "I know you don't want us to be, but we are."
"I know," you whispered, resting your ear just above his heart, "Who would've thought that Daredevil and the Punisher would be such softies?"