𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.2K 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 15 𝐓/𝐖: Mentions of Violence [Stab Wounds], Strong Language 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: ❝hi jj! could you do a one-shot (or possibly a mini-series) of the reader accidentally texting [insert: avenger] and they help him treat the wound and stuff, and it ends with a funny moment and [insert: avenger] taking a liking onto the reader? Also, could the reader possibly be trying to text Daredevil? (I know it's random), but like...and then she accidentally texts [insert: avenger]? I know it's a long order but hope you do my request!❞
𝐀/𝐍: Yup, I can do the request, but I'm not quite sure if I'll make it into a mini-series. We'll see! And also, I'll leave who the reader texts by accident as a surprise ;)
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Your head slightly hurt as you slipped into your room, through your window in a swift and easy motion as if you had just walked in my door. Today's patrol was rough, you thought, as you threw your suit down, and collapsed onto your bed.
You didn't have to worry about your relatives waking up since both of your parents had a night shift so you were safe. Glancing around, your nose scrunched up at the sight of dirty clothes thrown at the various parts of the room, and finally grimaced at the sight of the Iron Man underwear decorating the lamp with the broken bulb.
You went to get up, and maybe burn the underwear, because if your friend MJ ever saw it...she would never let it go, but the pain that came from your stomach caused you to yelp and lay back down on the bed. You slowly removed the top portion of your makeshift suit, to see a bloodied huge gash.
Fantastic, You thought, either I die because of the zero I'm going to be getting on the math test, tomorrow or I die from this gash. The latter seemed preferable, the wrath of your mother was apparently worse than death itself. A sigh broke out from your mouth, as you let out a groan, but your closed eyes now opened quickly, at an idea. Murdock!
Lately, you had met a fellow blind vigilante, who absolutely sucked at concealing his identity. Like, how would someone not find out your identity if you lay inside a dumpster like it was your bedroom? Anyway, he had scurried off after you had woken him up, but he had mentioned someone named...Clarinet? You mentally slapped yourself at the thought, clarinet, really? It was...Claire. Either way, he had mentioned someone who knew to treat injuries.
He had given you his number, but you had forgotten to add his number. Quickly taking out your phone, and sitting with your back against the wall, you put his number into your phone. Your vision was starting to turn blurry, but you shook it off. The last thing you needed was one of your parents coming into your room thinking you were dead.
