#matt murdock girl dad

[beezusvreeland]

I would read thousands of pages of just these three's home life. the matt murdock girl dad of it all just keeps getting better, his relationship with minnie is so sweet. I love how well she has adapted to having him as a father figure. excited for her birthday, hope froggy shows up!

now, I'm really curious to find out where the fic goes next with the sokovia accords 👀

[[and then i met you || ch 16]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Words: 4.4k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

You dream of hands. 

They are strong, calloused, and scarred, but they are so gentle with you. They dance over your skin, tracing over your belly to your sides and go down to your thighs. They come back up, pushing your panties to the side and examine your most intimate areas, and though you feel desire radiating from them, they do not cross the line into deviant behavior. They do not tease - they explore and memorize and make you feel like something precious. 

Once they have soaked themselves in the slick your body can't help but produce, they slide up to just under your belly button and rest there. Everything inside you flutters at the gesture and your body craves to be full - for the hands to feel the push back of a life moving inside you.

They don't linger long - only enough to make you squirm and gasp - before they are moving again. They drag up your center, skirting your breast like they dare not indulge.

They wrap around your throat and give a small squeeze. They are powerful and could crush you without a thought, but they don't. They release you and continue upward. They brush your cheeks, and when a thick digit pushes past your lips and you begin to suckle at it, you finally wake. 

Your bedroom is filled with bright sunlight, and you groan with disappointment. 

Your instinct tells you to roll into your pillow and try to continue sleeping but your mind is faster than your body and groggy memories of the day before beat against your skull. 

Your ear has no problems reminding you that you are ill. As you come more into consciousness, you become aware of how much it aches and how overly warm you feel. You vaguely remember being woken up to have ear drops put in and to coaxed into drinking water. There are flashes of sweet words and praise and being held while you drift back to sleep and gentle little kisses all over your face. 

You force your eyes to open and are greeted by the cartoonishly large ones of Scooby. He's right beside your pillow, like he's watching over you, and he's been maneuvered into wearing Minnie’s miniature doctor's coat with her bright pink toy stethoscope clamped around his neck. Your heart sings with love for your little girl and you hug the stuffed dog to your chest, burying your nose in his oversized head. 

How in the world did you get a daughter who is so pure and full of compassion and love? It certainly isn't genetic - you don't think your parents knew what compassion was. If this is from what you have taught her, then maybe, just maybe, you have finally done something right with your life. 

You stay hugging Doctor Scooby until your bladder complains and you force yourself out of bed. 

Your phone is nowhere to be seen, but you don't worry about it too much - you only wanted to check the time. You have a feeling it's around midday, but you can't be too sure - all you know is it feels like you slept forever. 

You grab a change of clothes, then head to the bathroom, bringing your toddler assigned guardian with you. After you take care of business, you take the time to clean yourself up a bit before changing into fresh clothing. It does wonders to improve how you feel. Your ear still throbs, and you feel stiff, but you don't feel like you've been wallowing in your own sweat. 

As you clean up your small mess, you note the carefully arranged bottles in your bathtub have been switched around. Minnie’s shampoo is in the wrong place and instead of any annoyance, you find yourself smiling. 

Matt must have given her a bath. You can imagine how it went, as your daughter enjoys getting clean and playing with all her water-based toys. She also adores helping and following directions, and you can picture her instructing her Daddy on how to wash her hair just right. 

You would have thought you'd never trust Minnie with someone so soon after meeting them - there's no way you'd let any of your friends give her a bath - but with Matt it is so easy. He wants so much to be a good father and he and Mouse already have such a good bond. You are just sad you missed their first bath time together. 

You take Doctor Scooby and your dirty clothes and leave the bathroom. Your clothes go into the hamper, then you and the toy dog make your way to the living room. You can hear the television going, but it's too low to make out what is playing, and your daughter giggling. The noise warms your heart, and you yearn for her. 

The scene you come upon is something you don't expect - Matt is sitting cross legged on the ground, back facing you, with Minnie standing right in front of him. On the coffee table beside her, her toy makeup kit is laid out, with all the different brushes scattered everywhere. Your daughter has a look of pure concentration on her face as she examines her father, a tube of what you know to be roll on glitter clutched in her little fist.

Matt must be getting his first princess makeover.

You can't hold back the delighted noise that comes from your soul at the realization and that of course catches both of their attention.

“Mommy!” 

A rocket made of brown curls and a yellow sundress crashes into your waiting arms. You squeeze her tight, trying to absorb her into your being, along with the Scooby plush. The hug only lasts a moment, as she quickly pulls back, slaps her little hands onto your cheeks, and declares, “You're still sick!”

You push your face into her touch, and give a sad laugh, guilt bubbling in your belly, “I am, I'm sorry, Mouse. But I feel better now, I promise.”

She purses her lips at you before dropping her hands from your face and says in an authoritative voice, “Doctor Scooby says you need more sleep.”

You look down at the toy still in your arms, then hold him up to be face to face with Minnie, “My body doesn't want to sleep anymore. Do you think it would be okay if I came out here to be with my family, Doctor Scooby?”

She takes the dog from you and jams his mouth to her ear. She pouts and goes, “uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay,” before turning him so he is looking at you and you feel like you're being judged by him. “He says you have to stay on the couch. And no cookies!”

“No cookies?” Matt asks from behind Minnie, and you finally tear your eyes away from her to look at him. You have to bite your lip, so you don't laugh.

Mouse has gone above and beyond with her princess makeover. 

Baby pink eyeshadow has been smeared over his eyelids, up to his thick eyebrows, and blended out to have a border of blue sparkles. His cheeks are rouged enough to make a flapper jealous, and a deep purplely-red stain has been carefully applied to his lips. Or as carefully as a three-year-old can do, which means the scruff around his mouth now has a nice tint to it. To top off his look, stick-on gems have been placed around his eyes, and the deep red color and shape of them mimic the glasses he typically wears.

He looks absolutely fabulous, and you need to find your phone so you can send pictures to Foggy and Karen.

“No cookies,” Minnie confirms, waving her plush at you to get your attention back onto her. 

“Okay, no cookies,” you agree. You don't know if you actually have any cookies in the pantry to eat, anyways, so this will be an easy rule to follow. “And I have to stay on the couch?”

Minnie nods vigorously, “Doctor's orders!”

“Okay, if the doctor says so.” 

You push yourself back into standing and your daughter takes your hand to practically march you over to the couch. You plop down in your corner and not a moment later, Scooby is back in your arms. Then, Minnie is zooming away from you and to the kitchen, calling back, “Daddy, I need help, please, thank you!”

Matt beams at you as he stands up and even with his face used as a coloring book, he looks handsome as ever, “I'm coming, my love.” His voice is full of joy and pride, and while you feel guilty, he is stuck babysitting while you're recovering, he clearly doesn't feel the same. You have the suspicion that every time Minnie calls him ‘Daddy’, his heart grows bigger. 

You don't turn to spy as Matt disappears from your view. Your phone is on the table behind Minnie’s make up kit, so you grab that then pull the throw blanket off the back of the couch and wrap yourself in it after adjusting to get a little more comfortable. 

There are no urgent or interesting notifications waiting for you - a few emails about sales and calendar reminders about upcoming bills that need to be paid. You swipe them away then turn your focus to the television. It is one of the educational videos about animals your little one has started watching in preparation for her birthday trip to the zoo. The date is coming up fast and you wonder if she's been telling Matt about all the animals she's excited to see. You can't wait to take her to the park for her special day. 

Minnie brings you from your thoughts with another yell of, “Mommy!” She hurries into your view and your heart swells with love. She's holding your water bottle, which she shoves at you, “Doctor Scooby says…he says you have to stay hide-rated. I asked Daddy what that means and he said you gotta drink lots of water! I got you water!”

You take your bottle and have to resist the urge to take her up in your lap as well. Your little angel is so sweet and thoughtful, and you very much want to wrap her up in your arms and never let go. 

“Thank you so much, sweetie, I'll make sure to keep hydrated. Promise,” you tell her, fully meaning to do just that. You try to drink a lot of water anyways, so it shouldn't be hard to accomplish. 

Minnie, however, either doesn't believe you or is over eager to take care of you. She grabs a hold of one of your legs and shakes it as hard as she can, demanding “Drink!” She drags out the word in a way only a toddler can and to soothe her, you take a long sip of water. 

“What else did Doctor Scooby say?” Matt asks as he returns from the kitchen, and you can feel the grin in his words. 

Mouse takes in the question, swaying slightly as she thinks, then breaks out into a big grin as she recites, “Lots of rest and…and a ...a towel on her ear! To help the ickies!” 

“Exactly,” Matt practically cooes as he scoops up his daughter, swinging her around before securing her on his hips. He tilts his head towards you, looking proud as can be, “I think we have a little doctor on our hands.”

“I'm gonna be a veteran!” Minnie declares, puffing up her chest. 

You know she means veterinarian and decide you aren't going to correct her. Instead, you're going to tease her about her past career goals, “I thought you wanted to be a hot dog vendor?”

Her eyes get wide at the reminder, and she quickly amends, “I'm gonna do that on the weekend!”

“So, veteran during the week and hot dog vendor on the weekend?” Matt confirms, blue sparkly eyebrows raised. 

“Yeah!”

You and Matt both huff in laughter and your little one beams at the attention. 

You take in Matt's appearance, with his devastatingly handsome face and boyish charm and a warmth churns in your belly. To push away those feelings, you ask, “are you still going to have time to give Daddy makeovers with all that work?”

Minnie looks at Matt and analyzes him, before starting to wiggle to be put down, “you need says-or-eases!” You guess she isn't done with him yet and talks of her future will have to wait.

He sets her on the ground, asking, “I need what?” but she doesn't acknowledge him, running off to the bedroom to grab more of her toys. You watch as he moves his head in minute movements, brow wrinkling up. He must be trying to figure out what his daughter is fetching. 

“What is she getting?” Matt finally asks you and you take a sip of water so swallow down any smugness you have.

“Accessories,” you clarify. “You can't have a makeover without getting some new accessories.”

He mouths the word, and you know he has no idea what is to come - Foggy’s nieces must be too old for dress up and makeovers. He remains standing until Minnie comes waddling back. She's carrying one of the purses you've gotten for her, and she's stuffed it full of costume jewelry and hair clips. She dumps it all out on the ground by Matt's feet with a demand of, “Sit, please, thank you!”

Bewildered, he does as he's told, and your daughter wastes no time trying to determine what looks best with his makeup. She holds a necklace up, looking between it and him before setting it aside with a ‘no!’ This happens again and again as she goes through her necklaces, then clip-on earrings and bangles - none of which fit over Matt's hands and are abandoned - and finally hair clips. 

You enjoy the process, sitting back and letting yourself wake up as Minnie describes each accessory to her Daddy as she decides if it matches the aesthetic. You snap photos to send to your new friends and Matt is good enough to even pose for a few. 

The final look consists of a giant yellow heart necklace, blue teardrop dangle earrings, and Beauty and the Beast hair bow. He looks very dashing, and you tell him as much as you send the end product over to Foggy and Karen. 

“If hot dog vending doesn't work out, your side hustle can be as a stylist,” you tease and Minnie beams at you, enjoying the praise. Matt examines what he is wearing, carefully touching the plastic jewelry to better understand what he looks like as Mouse reminds him of the colors. 

As they do that, you check the time. It is a little past Nap Time, so once the conversation starts to change, you address your daughter, “Would you like to clean up your toys and get some juice?” 

You know she knows this transition and she doesn't hesitate to nod and start to act. She starts with the things on the floor, stuffing them back into her purse and Matt jumps into Dad-mode. 

“What type of juice do you want, Mouse?”

“Apple juice, please, thank you.” 

“Half juice, half water,” you advise as he carefully navigates out of the living area. 

“Is the cup from last night, okay? The sippy one?”

“The bunny one!” Is the almost haughty reply. The pink bunny is the pre-nap juice cup, and you think a fit might be thrown if tradition isn't followed, so you untangle yourself from the blanket and go to the kitchen. Luckily, no one calls you out for leaving the couch. 

You smile at Matt as you pass him, and explain, “I ordered water resistant Braille label stickers but haven't finished putting them on all her things yet.” You open the cabinet that holds all of her various cups and pull out the correct one, then pass it over. “This one I did label.”

Matt takes it and runs his fingers over the surface until he finds the Braille, “Pink with bunnies. For Juice. Nap Time.” His face relaxes into something soft as he retraces the words. You don't know how descriptive you need to be with everything, but you know you don't need to spell everything out for him. His lips twitch into a smile and he whispers to you, “thank you,” before turning to the fridge to get out the juice. 

You don't want to make things awkward by lingering, so you shuffle back to the couch and reclaim your spot. Matt joins you a minute later, setting the sippy cup on the table. 

Mouse finishes cleaning up her toys rather quickly, then grabs her juice and crawls up to be between the two of you. You change the television over to one of the Pre-Nap shows - something calming to help everyone wind down - and out of the corner of your eye, you see your daughter snuggle into her Daddy's side and begin to sip her juice. Matt wraps his arm around her shoulders and begins to oh so gently pet over her arm. 

She's out before she finishes her juice. 

You don't miss the opportunity to take more pictures of Matt looking down at Minnie. You know he can't see her with his eyes, but you wonder what input he is getting and if he knows how sweet the pair of them look. 

You sit silently and wait until you're sure she won't wake up, then reach to gently touch Matt's shoulders, “Do you want to put her in her bed?”

He nods slowly, his whole being screaming with love for his little girl. You take the sippy cup away as he carefully picks her up after standing and you watch as he cradles her to his chest. He stands there for a moment, holding her close, and you think he must be savoring the moment. 

You don't disturb him and after a minute, he starts towards the bedroom. You wait until he's disappeared down the hallway to get up and go pour out the remainder of Minnie’s juice. You clean the cup, then grab some skin friendly wet wipes - you have the feeling Matt may not want to keep wearing his makeup. It feels gummy on your skin so you can't imagine how irritating he finds it. 

You resettle on the couch and change from sleepy television to soul crushing television - the midday news. 

You usually like to catch the top stories and the weather before switching away, but given Nap Time came a little late today, you miss those. Instead, you tune into the host interviewing some politician and the headline bar tells you he's a senator and they are discussing the Connecticut explosion. You turn up the volume slightly, so you can actually hear it. 

“- leaked report states this was not an attack, but the attempted arrest of an Enhanced individual gone wrong. Allegedly, the destruction of a neighborhood and the 634 deaths, dozens of which were children, was all caused by one man with powers. What are your thoughts on this, Senator Kelly?”

You frown at the new information. One person caused all that pain? Or are they just blaming one individual? 

“Thank you for having me, Vicki,” the Senator says, and you already don't like him. He gives off a slimy vibe - like he doesn't care about anyone but himself. “I've read the report and I've been on the ground, talking to the people whose lives were destroyed, and I've got one question in mind:  why were the good people of Stamford not made aware they were living next to a bomb? This individual, whose identity is still being hidden, only released one attack. One!” 

Your eyes go wide at the statement. That can't be true. Can someone really have that much power inside of them? You can understand people like Iron Man with a bunch of missiles strapped to him, but someone who is Enhanced?

“What do you propose, Senator?” Vicki asks and something like dread turns in your stomach. 

Matt reenters the room just as the vile man begins speaking again. He comes to stand by the couch, putting his hand on the cushion behind your shoulder.

“The American people deserve to know who they are living next to. We implemented this policy for sexual deviants, and we should do the same for these so-called Enhanced Individuals! The Sokovia Accords talks about registering ‘super heroes’,” Kelly uses air quotes around the word, a disgusted look on his face, “but this man wasn't a hero. He was a literal ticking time bomb and who knows how many more Enhanced Individuals are out there just like him. How would you feel if your neighbor could blow up your house with a wave of their arm, or walk through your walls, or Heaven-forbid, control you with their mind? S.H.I.E.L.D showed us all those people existed! How are we supposed to protect ourselves against that? Whose stopping those people from causing the next Sokovia, or Lagos, or Stamfo-”

You turn off the television. You can't hear any more of that man's rancid words and implications. 

You tilt your head up to look at Matt and your heart pangs for him. He's openly scowling and in the corner of your eye, you see him gripping the couch cushion tightly. 

Your body acts without thought and you reach up to squeeze his bicep, “Matt...?”

“He's talking about people like they are uncontrollable weapons,” he grinds out, “this is McCarthy Era ‘everyone who isn't you is a threat’ bullshit.”

“I know,” you say to try to soothe some of the anger you see boiling in him. You understand the anger and you are angry, too. You think Matt falls under the umbrella of ‘Enhanced Individuals’ and if so, Minnie does as well. It terrifies you that someone who is supposed to be running the country is spitting out such words, but you want to believe he's in the fringe. You want to believe your government doesn't think your daughter is a threat just because she's different. “He's vile.”

With his free hand, Matt wipes at his mouth, still looking furious, “everything he is saying goes against the Constitution. People have the right to privacy.”

You gently tug on his arm, and he takes the signal to come around and sit beside you. You turn to face him, and he does the same, and you decide to take the initiative. You want him to feel better. 

You are slow with your movements, so he can figure out your intentions, and unclip the bow from his hair. His eyes flutter shut before he takes a deep, calming breath, “I can't believe they let people like him on the news.”

You hum, then remove his necklace before going for the earrings, “I can. They love to stir the pot and giving those horrible people airtime gets them more views. They don't care about what's being said, only how much money they are getting for it “

“That's bleak,” he grumbles.

“It's better than the networks believing that bullshit,” you reply, as you pluck the red gems from his face. That makes him huff and a little smile form on his lips.

“You're good at this.”

“At what?” You ask as you set aside the jewelry on the table and grab the wet wipes. 

“Defusing the situation, turning the negative into a positive,” he says. He keeps his eyes closed as you start to wipe away the makeup Minnie caked onto him, starting with his rouge. 

“Is it a positive the news wants money instead of spewing hate?” You counter, a little bit of a tease in your voice. He reaches out and squeezes your knee and you can't help but smile. “Though, I guess it is better to be a capitalist than a Nazi.”

“That's the American way of thinking,” Matt jokes and you have to stop cleaning away the makeup so you can both laugh. 

You fall back into silence as you start in on his eye shadow. He keeps his hand on your knee, slowly beginning to rub his thumb back and forth over your sweats. You can practically see the tension bleeding out of his shoulders and a bit of pride swirls in your chest. You feel guilty for turning on and listening to the news in the first place. 

When it comes time for you to wipe away the stain on Matt's lips, you hesitate. 

You've been trying to ignore the feelings that have been slowly growing inside you. You thought of them as weeds - byproducts of Matt being naturally charming and kind and the father of your child. You know you are attracted to him - you slept with him, after all - but emotionally? 

You're terrified of that. 

You're terrified of him not returning the feelings.

You're terrified you only see what he allows you to see, and when the facade drops, someone else will appear. 

You're terrified of messing everything up - for yourself. For Minnie. 

You don't want to think of your dreams, where you know it's him you are imagining. You don't want to think about how perfect it felt to be held by him and know you were safe. You don't want to think about how he still hasn't left you since you had to be taken to the hospital. 

You can't fall down that rabbit hole. It's too much for you. 

So, you try to rip away the things growing inside you before they bloom and push forward. You fold the wet wipe in half and begin to remove the last of the makeup. You don't rush, taking just as much care as you had getting rid of the blue sparkles.

“All done,” you say as you finish and pull away from him, turning purposefully so his hand slides off your leg. You pretend to not notice and focus on balling up the used wipes.

“Thank you,” he responds quietly, turning as well so he's facing the television once again. You fear things are going to dip into awkwardness, but Matt speaks again before you get to say something stupid. His words are soft and steady, but strike fear into your heart.

“There was something I wanted to talk with you about.” 

You try to swallow down your anxiety and tell yourself that this isn't about your silly emotions - whatever Matt has to say must be regarding Minnie. It's the only thing that makes sense, so you come out a small “Yeah?”

“I wanted to talk to you about my mother.”

--

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[gothams-daredevil]

father I crave violence

@franny-k-stein

Mhm, nope. You're staying down for noe, no violence

[gwensy]

u get it u get it. the ending to murderdocks storyline felt lowkey corny as hell there was so much potential there for his and gwens dynamic like what if instead of blackmailing her she didnt know he was kingpin in the first place and thought he was helping her get her dad out of jail altruistically? slow manipulation to get close to her to convince spider woman to work for him of her own volition and then he rips the rug from under her in killing her father both isolating her and keeping her dependent on him and fulfilling his gwen stacy kin dreams, i dont think shes see him as a father figure but itd kinda be a echo and fisk dynamic “i trusted u and u killed my father i hate u and am still attached to u at the same time” kinda thing. anyway i think murderface should pee in his bed and his bed smells like cat pee forever and ever.

RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT YEAH. i think murdock would've gotten covid if gwen saw him as a father replacement, there's definitely the world's worst found family thing going on with them though and it makes me sick, she's like his emotional support teen intern

heavy on the maya and fisk vibes for sure like u said anon SOOOO MUCH COULD'VE BEEN DONE WITH HIM. WITH THEM. RAAAGGHHH the blackmail and coercion that occurred in the comics wasn't even like that good murdock had so many different opportunities to corner her into a predetermined decision and litchrally none of them were taken. Murdock already has the World's Worst Upbringing and i think alot could've been done with them forming their doomed bond to each other and him creating a false sense of security around her — specifically the way in which i view murdock's attachment to others is always something thats very consuming and unclear, his driving force is turning her into his successor and making her experience the same horrible fate he had and just UUGUGHGHH missed opportunities. also i think it would've been funny if murdock went to jail and they ended up being roomies when gwen got arrested she was fighting for her life in there imagine that fucking guy ontop of that she would've bit his arms off

[outoftheseine]

- BUCKY BARNES FIC RECS 4 -

i’m so obsessed with catws!bucky you have no idea | note: please be aware of the authors’ warnings before reading. fics include canon tw’s like: violence, death, grief. torture and ptsd. some fics have 18+ content so minors please DNI.

part one | part two | part three | main masterlist | also check my latest list: matt murdock pt 2

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

the blade and the crown • knight!bucky barnes x queen!reader

↳ by @fandoms-writings (smut, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, secret relationship)

avoidance | chaos | strangers | power • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @ultralightpoe (angst, hurt/comfort, tw: ptsd)

illicit affairs • biker!bucky barnes x stark!reader

↳ by @auroralwriting (enemies to lovers, age gap, angst, gangs)

between a dream | part two | part three • tws!bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @bcksbarnes (angst, comfort, fluff)

before i could say it • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @fawniswriting (angst, fluff, insecure!bucky)

lessons in lovemaking • bucky barnes x blackwidow!reader

↳ by @artficlly (smut, touch starved!bucky, fluff, angst, bickering, tw: trauma, sa)

foundations • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @vunblr (dad!bucky, fluff, a little angsty, smut)

not in that way • bucky barnes x fwb!gn!reader

↳ by @jaggedamethyst (smut, mutual pining, miscommunication, angst, fluff)

say don’t go • college!hockey!bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @the-winter-spider (angst, mean!bucky, pining, smut)

wake up | part two | part three • avenger!bucky barnes x avenger!reader

↳ by @marvelstoriesepic (very angsty)

the falcon, the winter soldier and static • bucky barnes x stark!reader

↳ by @theconstantsidekick

quiet down | stay quiet • roommate!bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @adrinktostopyourthirst (smut)

the soldier’s keeper • bucky barnes x doctor!reader | soldat (part of the universe)

by @pome-seed (angst, kidnapping)

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC’S

be(tter) in reality with me • bucky barnes x pregnant!fem!reader

↳ by @t-lostinworlds (angst, hurt/comfort, fluff)

dear lover • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @johnkrrasinski (very fluffy, slight angst)

my girl • domestic!bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @bucky-bucket-barnes (very fluffy)

the cure • bucky barnes x avenger!reader

↳ by @/bucky-bucket-barnes (very angsty, hurt/comfort, slowburn, fluff)

fast track • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @sidmakestuff (angst with happy ending, hurt/comfort, insecure!bucky, little explicit)

the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky (angst, tw: harassment)

for as long as you need me • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @whatthetumblfck (fluff, hurt/comfort)

worthy • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @duuhrayliegh (fluff)

softened by time • bucky barnes x gn!reader

↳ by @heyitsme1040 (domestic fluff)

his girl • bucky barnes x enchanced!reader

↳ by @roguerogerss (fluff)

enemies • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @ro-is-struggling (angst, hurt/comfort, enemies to friends, tw: trauma)

the same thing • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @appocalipse (angst with happy ending)

rest had seemed the sweetest thing • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @violentdelightsandviolentends (sooo fluffy)

i know you • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @oneofstarkskids (angst, fluff)

road trip • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @munsster (fluff, a little angst)

come find me • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky (angst, hurt/comfort)

mercy kill • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky (very angsty)

unspoken • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @maevedoodle (comfort, nightmares, fluff)

sweet like plums • cw!bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @mandoalorian (smut)

summer breeze • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @orithyia-eriphyle (very fluffy, hurt/comfort)

safe space • avenger!bucky barnes x avenger!reader

↳ by @helaintoloki (angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, tw: ptsd, trauma, torture)

echos • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @brokenbarnes (very angsty but fluffy end, hurt/comfort)

trouble • bucky barnes x fem!reader /

↳ by @marvelwitchergilmore (enemies to lovers, fluff, fake dating)

a place to land • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @cheekybarnes (angst, comfort, tw: sexual violence, ptsd)

lost for words • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @daxisyzz (fluff)

his girls • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @artficlly (very fluffy, secret dating)

lovesick • bucky barnes x maximoff!reader

↳ by @ang3ltine (fluff, little angsty, tw: torture)

sparing you • beefy!bucky barnes x avenger!fem!reader

↳ by @sergeantbarnessdoll (fluff, slight angst)

love bruises • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @multiversediaries (very soft, fluffy, domestic!buck, a little smutty)

hole in the earth• bucky barnes x mutant!fem!reader

↳ by @em1i2a3 (smut, angst, age gap, hurt/comfort, tw: panic attacks)

only you, doll • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @billionairebratenergy (fluff, kind of possessive!bucky)

home with you • roommate!bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @marvelstoriesepic (oh so fluffy, lots of pining)

creamy or crunchy • avenger!bucky barnes x avenger!reader

↳ by @marvelstoriesepic (so so so fluffy, protective!bucky)

mission mishap • avenger!bucky barnes x avenger!fem!reader

↳ by @mugglebornmarvelite (hurt/comfort, fluff)

bruised shadows • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @happy74827 (slight angst, hurt/comfort, grumpy x sunshine)

what you do to him • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @xxthelovelyopossumiixx (domestic, smut)

scars to your beautiful • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @buckybarnesandmarvel (insecure!bucky, comfort)

blurred lines • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @ellemj (smut, angst, enemies to lovers, jealous,possessive!bucky, one bed trope)

[bellaxgiornata]

OMG GIRL DAD MATTY! 💖 I love it with my whole heart, the man would be so adorable with a little girl!! And honestly the image of the Devil making threats to his daughter's future dates is not only real, but it somehow does something to me as a mom 🔥

Congratulations on your 300 followers dear, you're awesome and you deserve this! 🥳❤️❤️❤️

I'll start with Inside The Mind: what headcanons do you have for girl father!Matt? I would reeeally love to know what you think about it!

Have an awesome day my love! 🥰❤️❤️❤️

Thank you, Yuna! 😉

Thank you for the request and here are my headcanons:

Girl father! Matt Murdock

When asked before the birth, Matt said that all he wanted was a healthy baby. He had a few idle thoughts about what it might be like to have a son or a daughter. But for the most part, being healthy was his own real concern.

He really didn’t understand those fathers who were disappointed by having a girl. From the moment she was placed in his arms, this little person was the sweetest, most beautiful person in the entire world. How could anyone not love her?

As you may have gathered from that statement, his daughter had Matt wrapped around her little finger from day one.

Not in letting her get away with anything kind of way but in that he will cheerfully indulge her desire to give him a make-over, braid his hair, drink pretend-tea out of tiny teacups, solemnly evict the monster under the bed, etc.

Thinks his heart is going to melt out of his chest when his daughter expresses a desire to learn how to “read with her hands, just like Daddy.”

Matt is fiercely protective of her, willing and ready to use every single tool at his disposal to keep her safe - the law, his fists, the works.

Agonizes over the things that he can’t protect her from. Like the terrible things she hears if she inherited his senses or any of the other pains from his senses (he wouldn’t wish the migraines on anyone, let alone his own child).

Education is important to him. The kid doesn’t need to get perfect grades but he does expect good ones. Struggling with a subject is okay, as long as she is doing her best and he’ll help find tutors or whatever else she needs to pass.

Better understands his own father and his fears upon witnessing his daughter’s fierce temper and need for justice, knowing both how powerful and dangerous that fire can be. Seeks to temper it, channel it into safer waters like law or medicine. Fears that he will fail.

Regardless, he does train her and prays that at best it will simply be good exercise and at worst, defense is all she ever has to use it for.

When boyfriends (or girlfriends) start wandering by, Matt makes sure they know that if they mistreat his daughter, he will be unhappy. And that he’s rather unpleasant when he’s unhappy. Then he smiles and he knows it’s not a nice smile. Because this isn’t Matt Murdock, Attorney at Law speaking, this is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen (Peter says that being old enough to have a teenage daughter has not made Matt any less terrifying when he wants to be).

Considers his threats more subtle than Frank’s (who made a point of cleaning his guns or sharpening his knives whenever someone came calling after his daughter). Others dispute this.

That being said, he will 100% cry at the wedding.

[lovelybucky1]

okay so dad!matt is rotting my brain so how about this: matt is older than reader and somehow she comes into his life, whether she be a client or the daughter of a client/friend. he takes her on almost like a protégé, maybe given her an internship at the firm. he tells himself it's because he wants to protect her like he would a daughter but in secret he can't stop thinking about bending her over his desk.

he is so ashamed of his feelings and hide them very well but quickly notices that she trusts him "like a father".

she on the other hand is quite attracted to him but she also sees him as a protective father figure and feels ashamed of her attraction because "that's almost her dad"

lots of pining and being confused by their moral compasses and immense attraction and need for the other person and ahhhhhh

- 🪆

i love this so much oh my god

you’re the daughter of a long time and well paying client of matt’s. when the client asked if his daughter could intern at murdock and mcduffie, it was hard for matt to say no. you don’t bite he hand that feeds, after all. he was worried about having a spoiled young girl from harvard law working under him, seeing as he specializes in helping the less fortunate, but that turned out to not be his biggest problem.

you’re sweet, kind, humble, and devastatingly sexy. devastating because you’re in your early twenties and he’s pushing forty.

he tried so hard to keep it professional, but you were insistent on getting to know him on a personal level and he couldn’t resist. after you became closer than the typical boss/employee, he tried to friendzone you, or more accurately, dad-zone you. he took on a mentor role and constantly called you kid, trying to put that space between the two of you. no matter how many times he reminded himself of your age, your inexperience, your innocence,he couldn’t help but imagine you bent over his desk.

despite how perceptive he usually his, he had no idea you felt the same. his own feelings were clouding his judgement and he didn’t realize how your heart races when you see him, how it skips when he called you kid in that warm, gentle tone. you didn’t mean to fall for your boss. you know he’s way too old for you and you’ve even referred to him as your work dad, but late at night, your fantasies always include him.

you started to dress up more for work which feels ironic because you work for a blind man, but you don’t know what else to do. somehow he seems to have taken notice. your skirts are shorter, still professional, but they show off more of your legs. you bought a new perfume, something sweet and alluring. you even started wearing your hair different, just to get his attention.

the two of you reach your boiling point late one evening while you’re helping him work on his opening statement. he had asked you to read it back to him, partly to catch errors, but mostly because he wanted to listen to your voice. you’re sitting close, your voice soft in the small, quiet room. this time, matt is paying attention to all of his senses and catches how your breath hitches when his thigh makes contact with yours.

tension is thick in the air, confessions sit heavy on the tips of your tongues.

“matt-”

“don’t.”

“but-“

“we can’t.”

it’s as close as you can get to confronting it without putting words to your feelings. no i’m too old, i’m your boss, i’m friends with your father. just, we can’t.

as much as it kills you, you understand. in fact, you understand so well that you begin to date another lawyer at the firm. he’s a first year from harvard, and despite being in the program at the same time, you never saw him around campus. he’s exceptional, a literal genius, and he treats you well. he’s great, except he’s not matt.

its been two months and you’re working late with matt again, scanning case files in his office. at this hour, in this small of a space, nothing good can come. you’re close again, touching at the ankles, thighs, and almost the shoulder.

“sweetheart-“

“don’t.”

“please-“

“we can’t.”

no i’m too young, i’m with someone else, you’re my boss. just we can’t.

“i don’t care,” he breathes.

he grabs your face and kisses you, lips gentle but full of passion, longing, and something darker. something you’ve both been pushing down since you’ve started working together.

“matt,” you gasp.

“i can’t stop myself,” he mumbles against your lips.

you have no idea the devil that hides behind the mask of matt murdock.

[nevarrhoe]

mea culpa (m.m) - 2

SUMMARY: "mea culpa" (exclamation - noun/legal term)

used as an acknowledgement of one's fault or error.

↪ in which matt murdock accidentally falls in love with the district attorney's daughter.

warnings: smut, angst, swearing, fem! reader

masterlist

It was a little hard to stop thinking about Matthew Murdock over the next few days. 

Nevermind the fact he’d left hickeys all over your neck - it was the fact he was texting you every few hours with absolutely indescribable fantasies that made it difficult to think about anything else. Your blood would run cold every time your phone buzzed, just on the off chance that one of your friends, or god forbid your father, see your phone screen. It put you on edge in the best way. This entire thing was already beyond fucked up for more than one reason and yet, you wanted more. So much more. 

Can’t wait to taste you again. 

Can’t wait to hear you scream my name again. 

Hope you haven’t been thinking about anyone else. 

And it was funny, really, because Matt was a perfectly respectable man from the outside. Quiet, unassuming, a dry sense of humour - you never would have taken him of all people to be the one to make you feel so fucking alive. It wasn’t just how good he was in bed, but rather the thrill of it all. Nothing got your motor running like a situation’s potential to disappoint your father but hey. That was for your therapist to deal with. 

Of course, your father had asked several questions about where you’d disappeared too after the gala on Friday. He was more concerned about it had looked for him, and to have his daughter run out on a big charity event. Your mother had been less worried about that part, and more about her vintage Chanel suit. You’d settled both their worries by a) telling your father you’d had stomach problems (because who was gonna ask about that?) and b) promising to send the Chanel off to a dry cleaner. 

It was on a slow Monday afternoon - exactly three days after you’d met him - that Matt sent you a not so dirty text. It was so casual, in fact, that it caught you more off guard than any of the filth he’d sent you over the weekend. 

Wanna grab lunch? 

“Are you okay, honey?”

You blinked, eyes shooting up to your best friend. Okay, maybe not a best friend - those were hard to come by in high-society. She was your most tolerable friend. It had been her idea to get martinis for lunch. Your idea of fun wasn’t exactly sitting around with five rich girls and their daddy’s credit cards but it wasn’t like you had work to do, right? 

Part of you so badly wanted to tell them about the escapade over the weekend - about how much better an older guy was than all their ridiculous, frat-house boyfriends, and how good he’d made you feel. But did you trust them? Not with your damn life. And for risk of being cut out of your father’s will, you figured it was something to keep to yourself. 

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat. “I gotta ditch. My dad needs me to get something from his office.”

Grabbing your jacket - a tan Chanel parka, naturally - you slid out of the booth and straight out of the restaurant. Matt’s number was dialed into your phone before you even hit the street. 

“Matthew, hi!” you greeted him. “I’m down for lunch.”

“Perfect,” you could hear the smile in his voice. “Wanna come by my office?”

“Sure. Want me to grab takeout?”

“It’s okay. I already have lunch here.”

“Okay. Text me the address.”

–

The Nelson & Murdock office wasn’t too far from where you’d been. Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t exactly your stomping ground but your Uber had dropped you off right outside, and you had a taser in your bag. Not to mention the years of Krav Maga and karate that you’d done in high school and college. You could have been a damn vigilante if you wanted to. 

It was the shorter, Nelson half of Nelson and Murdock that saw you first. He seemed taken aback at first - maybe by your expensive appearance, but also maybe because every other person in the room was a middle-aged man there for free legal advice. By the looks of your Chanel bag and red-soled shoes, he figured you probably didn’t need any legal advice for free. Especially not from him. It seemed much more apparent that you had the likes of Jeri Hogarth in your pocket should you need any legal assistance. 

“Hello. Hi.” Foggy greeted you with wide eyes. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Uh, no,” you turned around to face him, sticking out your hand. “You’re Nelson, right?”

“I am Nelson,” he replied, shocked look still not faltering. “How do you know my name?”

“I’m a friend of Matt’s,” you explained. “I don’t suppose he’s around?”

Speak of the devil. Your conversation was cut short by Murdock’s entrance. He looked hot in a suave sort of way; tie loosened around his neck, top button undone and sleeves rolled up. It was the first time you’d seen him since you’d left his apartment early on Saturday morning and frankly, you didn’t know how to act. Most of the men you slept with didn’t invite you to their offices for lunch - hell, most of them didn’t have offices. 

“Hey, Murdock,” you gave him a small wave.

“Hey - come in,” Matt shot you a grin, ushering over to his own office in the corner. 

It was neater than you’d thought it would be; there was a laptop perched on his desk, with a braille translator and a stack of legal files. They were probably the same legal files your dad had, just..the other side of the story. After all, Nelson and Murdock were known for looking out for the little guy. That was much more admirable than daddy dearest and his famously corrupt evidence. 

“Your shirt fits better today,” you commented, shrugging off your jacket. “That’s a real shame.”

“Is that a comment about my arms or the way I dress?”

“I think you know that it’s about your arms.”

You pushed aside the files, hopping up onto Matt’s desk. He had you caged in within a second, broad hands gripping your hips and guiding you up into a kiss. It was a little softer than the ones you’d shared on Friday night - there was less heat; a causal air to it. You didn’t think it was possible to miss the lips of a man you’d fucked exactly once. 

“So,” you murmured against him. “You said you had lunch here.”

“I do,” Matt gave you a shit-eating grin. “You.”

“Matthew!” you hissed, hitting his shoulder. “Did you seriously invite me over here just for a fuck?”

“Not exactly!” he quickly replied, raising his hands in surrender. “I wanted to check in with you and see how you were.”

“Oh, okay,” you raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. “I’m not too bad. I was having lunch with some of my friends when you texted-”

Matt suddenly attached his lips to your neck, teeth gently nipping on the same mark he’d left a few days ago. You didn’t mean to let out a moan, but how could you not? 

“Matthew!” you exclaimed again. 

“No, go on!” he stopped for a second. “I’m listening. You were having lunch with your friends and…”

“And you texted and I was bored, so I left and - Jesus fucking Christ, that feels so good.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “You left your friends to see me?”

“I would leave my dying Aunt Betty’s bedside to see you,” you said. Without a second thought, you grabbed him by the tie and pulled him back towards you. “Enough catching up. I’m good to have lunch now.”

He gave you a grin and a few moments later, his hands found your way under your ass. Matt shoved aside the pile of legal papers and moved you further onto the desk, lips back on your neck and working a thousand times harder than they had before. Instinctively, you tangled a hand in his hair and just let him have at it. 

The build-up wasn’t as tense as it had been the first time you fucked, but that was because Matt knew you better now. He pretty much had you memorised; the ticklish spot on your neck, the most sensitive spot on your hips, the way you liked his nails to dig into your back just enough to hurt. That was just a testament to him. Who else would remember that? Who else would take the time to learn what you liked after just once? 

“Not that I don’t enjoy this,” Matt paused for a second. “But my lunch break isn’t that long. If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna have to be quick.”

“You’re real cheap, Matthew Murdock,” you scowled. “Do you invite all girls over here for a fuck disguised as lunch and then rush them?”

“No, not all of them,” he shot back. “Some are more breakfast kinda gals-”

“- oh shut the fuck up.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him back into a kiss. Matt couldn’t help but smile against you - at how badly you wanted him, how you chastised him but still didn’t stop him. 

It was in that moment that you thanked every deity there was that you’d chosen to wear a skirt that day. But frankly, you wouldn’t have given a fuck if Matt had ripped your Versace mini-skirt to shreds. He would have been okay with that too, especially if it meant you have to borrow a shirt of his to leave in. 

Still, Matthew Murdock was nothing if not respectable - at least enough so not to destroy your designer clothes. Instead, he simply pushed it up, large hands making their way to your ass cheeks and giving one of them a light slap. You froze when he did - how many clients were out there in the waiting room right now? Even with the blinds closed and the door shut, how many of them could hear what was going on? 

“Problem?” Matt paused. 

“There are people out there who could hear us-”

“- not with the air conditioning on. Foggy always has it going. Don’t worry.”

You scowled. “How do you know that?”

“Just do.”

Matt wasted no time in resuming his activities. Grabbing you by the hips again, he lifted you with ease and spun you around so that he was the one on the desk, and you were in his lap. The friction of his hard-on in his trousers against your core was almost unbearable and he could tell you were desperate by the way your grip on him suddenly tightened. 

“Look at you,” he grinned. There was something about the way his voice dropped four octaves every time he was about to fuck you. “You’re calling me sloppy but you’re gagging for it, aren’t you?”

You let out a small grumble, shaking your head. “I thought you didn’t have time to tease?”

“You’re lucky that I don’t have time to do a lot of the things I want to do to you, sweetheart,” he said. “Everyone out there would be able to hear me fucking you if I didn’t have to be back in twenty minutes.”

“Matthew,” you growled. “I don’t care how long you have - if you’re not inside me in the next thirty seconds, I’m going somewhere else.”

“I didn’t think there would be many men around at this time willing.”

You let out a derivative snort, acrylic nails dragging down his neck and hand settling ever so gently on his throat. “You think I don’t have plenty of offers? You’re not the only man who can make me scream.”

It was almost like your words awakened something in Matt. In a flash, he’d pulled you off the desk and positioned you against it; there was the sound of his belt and a second later, his dick was inside you. Rock hard and beautiful, and the perfect length to have you clenching around him in mere fucking seconds. 

He wasted no time in pounding into you from behind, one hand tangling his fingers with yours on the desk and the other wrapped around your throat. You had complete and utter trust in him and maybe that was why you placed your own hand over his and encouraged him to squeeze harder. 

Matt’s movements were rapid and consistent: time was of the essence after all, and there was no way in hell he was going back to work until you came. 

It didn’t take much, to be honest. Not when you had his gruff voice muttering things in your ear. It was hard not to make noise then - Matt moved his hand from your throat accordingly, clutching it over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your moans. What an ass. Not to mention that it only made you even fucking louder. 

“Do they make you feel this good?” he teased. “Do they?”

He managed to hit the right spot over and over and it wasn’t long before you felt that knot in your stomach. It was a plunge; like a plane falling out of the sky, anything that caused a sharp drop in your gut. The room was practically spinning around you as you came undone, red acrylics digging into the skin of Matt’s arm for some kind of relief. 

“There we go, sweetheart,” Matt murmured. He softened his pace, slowing down for a minute to revel in his own high. “Good girl.”

He released his hand from your mouth, chest heaving against your back for a minute as you both came down from your respective orgasms. A broad arm wrapped around your waist, steadying you. Matthew Murdock was a gentleman, even when he was rearranging your guts. 

You slowly turned around to face him, pulling him into another desperate kiss. 

“Are you free tomorrow night?” Matt softly asked. 

“Yeah, I am,” you ran a hand down his chest, faltering for a second. “Why? You gonna take me out for dinner?”

“Yeah, but an actual meal. It’s not a euphemism, I promise,” he gave you a grin. 

You returned the gesture for a minute, a wide smile on your face - but then it faltered. “Matthew, I would love for you to take me on a date, and I adore spending time with you but…”

“But what?”

“My dad,” you groaned, dropping your head into his shoulder. “If anyone catches me with you, I’m done for - as hot as that is.”

Matt couldn’t help but chuckle. “Okay, fine. What if we just hang out at my apartment and get take out? You can dress like a slob and no-one will see us.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” your smile quickly returned. “But I am not dressing like a slob. I wear Chanel or I wear nothing.”

“I would much prefer it if you wore nothing.”

[ravensmurdock]

innocence

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

warnings: age difference, implied daddy issues, freudian, impact play, no actual smut, thigh riding, oral fixation, reader calls him dad, mean!matt

matt likes to believe he's a patient man. many times he is, really, he is. except when you're running your mouth, or putting yourself in danger. in moments like those, when his patience is hanging on by a mere thread, you place yourself strategically on his lap and pout and pout— hoping to lessen your punishment.

it's his fault, really. you're too young for him, a little immature. what more can he expect from a 20 year old? what more can he expect from a curious, bright eyed intern who is always following him around like a pet? it's always 'mr. murdock this, mr. murdock that,' can he blame you? no. the fault is on him, for not being able to resist your charms. you never tried to be subtle either— he could quite literally hear your heartbeat rise whenever his voice would get too low while closing, when his smirk would get too cocky. he's sure if he could see, he'd be met with you constantly trying to shove your cleavage in his face. which, he would never complain about.

but he does feel like a dirty old man sometimes. he's had his own moral conflicts— deep into the night when you're pressed into his side, and all he can think is, 'im a fucking cradlerobber, tainting her innocence, corrupting her mind, devouring a little girl like a mad man with no self control—'

and the moment you mumble sleepily against his neck, those thoughts vanish and he's immediately pulling you closer.

he doesn't realize how much your age gap does for you. how the greys in his beard shine when he rises from between your legs, chin covered in your slick. how his strong, protective arms make you feel safe like nothing ever could. how his care taking tendencies are almost fatherly in nature, making you forget all about your own bad experiences with your own father. the rasp in his voice when he scolds you for being reckless, too curious, too presumptuous— it hits the right spots. makes you want to provoke him more. which is exactly what put you in this position.

you'd followed him down to an important meeting— one he specifically told you to stay away from, and you ended up witnessing him break the guy's hand. your heartbeat was indication enough, but it was your gasp that truly got his attention— his head snapping up in warning and you running away almost immediately.

catching you wasn't hard, and you weren't running because you were scared of him hurting you— you were scared of disappointing him. which is exactly what you did. and now you're here, pressed against his chest, his fingers gently massaging your scalp.

"what did i tell you, hm?" he asks, voice low, almost mocking. his hand suddenly tightens into a fist— yanking your head back by the hair. you whimper, eyes tearing up at the sting. you try to search for any mercy in his features— but his glasses stay as a barrier between your eyes and you sniffle.

"sorry," you mumble softly, gently caressing his chest, "i should've listened—"

"oh yeah, you should've." he agrees, a small smirk on his face, "but you didn't. you never do. all my little darling does is listen to herself and piss me off. do you want me to hurt you?"

"no!" you shake your head, desperately leaning forward to bury your head in his chest. he presses you closer, and you deeply inhale the comforting smell of his cologne. scratch your cheek against his beard like a cat. there's something so oddly comforting about this, even when you know he's mad at you. something about it is making your brain feel fuzzy— a kind of feeling that can only come from a grown, mature man. maybe that's what prompts you to mumble your next words, hoping to soften the blow of his wrath.

"pleeeaaase, dad." you whine, voice soft. he tenses under your body, and you immediately feel scared. you don't actually want to make him uncomfortable, you hope it doesn't. his chest rumbles with a chuckle.

"oh that one's new," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, "is that supposed to make me feel sympathetic? you think i'm your father, baby?"

shit.

your heartbeat rises again, and he hears it. loud and clear. there's been a bit of a dynamic between you two, but you've never said something so directly out loud. and neither has he. but the 'father,' that's what gets you. and he hears the hitch in your breath, and the smirk that appears on his face is downright evil.

"oh you like that, huh?" he pulls your head back again, grabs your jaw. makes your lips pucker up. "is that what you want? you want me to be your father? you want dad to punish you?"

"fuck—" you breathe out, eyes squeezing shut. he thumbs your bottom lip, and your mouth snaps open. he slips his thumb into your mouth and you suck, head feeling fuzzy. your hips start gently grinding against his thigh, and it makes him moan.

"my stupid girl," he huffs with a chuckle, pulling his thumb out. you chase his hand with a whine, "what will i do with you?"

he presses your mouths together and you moan into his, crumbling in his arms. you're relieved that it worked, you won't get punished. as you pull away for air, his hand pulls back and smacks you across the face— making you gasp. you look back at him, wide eyed, and there's not one bit of remorse on his face. your cheek stings, the skin there feels hot. you're more in shock than you're hurt. he pulls his hand back again and you flinch. he chuckles, lowering his hand to your thigh.

"you're gonna make yourself cum on my thigh," he says calmly, but you can sense the threat behind his words. his thumb gently rubs against your skin. "and if you fail, dad will hit you again. you don't want that, do you?"

your lips wobble and you sniffle, nodding. your hips begin to move on their own, albeit messily. and you hope you don't disappoint him again.

it's going to be a long night.

for matt fans, girls with daddy issues and murdock circle

@deermurdock @fairymurdock @foxmurdock @https-murdock @jellyfishmurdock @kit-murdock2 @bunmurdock @lambmurdock @parker-murdock @pupmurdock @sirenmurdock @starmurdock @swanmurdock @moth-murdock @bumblebeemurdock @mewmurdock @froggy-murdock @sharkymurdock

[holylulusworld]

No exceptions (3)

Summary: He likes your guts and your cake.

Pairing: Mobster!Frank Castle x Baker!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of anxiety, mafia business, flirty Frank (he tries, okay), groping, mentions of domestic violence/violence against young Frank

Catch up here: No exceptions (2)

No exceptions masterlist

Watching the two men talk about business, you chew on your lower lip.

What did Mr. Murdock mean—does he want to take over your bakery, and you’ll end up on the street? Will you end up in jail because you got involved with the mob?

What if you end up dead or worse because of them?

You’re trembling, and your legs are about to give in as your anxiety spikes once again.

Frank is quick to react. He has you back in his lap before you can protest. “You have to sit down and drink lots of water, sweet cheeks. I told you to let me look after you.”

“I,” you’re unable to react. Dizziness and your anxiety hold your body in a tight grip. You try to focus on breathing to calm down.

“In and out, sweet cheeks,” Franks whispers in your ear. “No one is going to hurt you. You see, the gun in my pants is a real one. If someone tries to hurt you, they end up on the ground.”

“I don’t think this helps her right now,” Matt leans closer to whisper the words. “She doesn’t feel safe with you and your gun around.”

“Nah, she loves me.” Frank won’t accept any less than you in his arms. “I’ll make her see that I’m the good guy here.”

“I,” wheezing, you look at Matt. “I can’t do this. What if I get arrested? I won’t survive jail.”

“Whoa, calm down, sweet cheeks. No one is sending my girl to jail.” Frank pats your thigh. “You’re safe and sound, and I’ll make sure it stays this way.”

“I only want you to do us a little favor. No one will know about it but you, me, and Frank. I’ll let him keep an eye on your bakery and you to provide safety.”

Frank rubs your arms and murmurs in your ear to calm you. “I love keeping an eye on her. She’s not in danger.”

“Back to business, Frank.” Matt leans back in his chair, eyes glued to you. “I want you to take my money and make more for me. This way, a part of my business will be legal. I’ll be a silent partner—or rather, one of my companies will. No one will find out it’s my money.”

You don’t want his money or for them to get involved with your business. All your life, you tried to find your way. Now there are these men forcing their way into your life, and there’s nothing you can do about it, and it makes you feel sick.

“I think we talked about the basics. I’ll make an appointment to discuss the details. Frank, make sure the lovely lady gets a rest. Send the customers home, but let them pay first.”

Matt slowly gets up from his chair. He nods at you, saying your name with respect and a hint of softness. “I’ll enjoy doing business with you. I know this is a little much, but being under my protection means safety and stability for you and your business.”

He leaves, not before paying for the cupcakes and coffee. Matt Murdock is by all means not a nice man, but he respects your business and you. “Have a good day, miss.”

Frank watches his boss leave. He smirks while saying, “So, do you want me to kick them out, or do we wait for them to leave?” He says it loud enough for your customers to hear. They hurriedly get up and place the money they owe you on the tables.

“Finally, alone,” he hums when you start to squirm again. “I want you to relax. Don’t work yourself up, Y/N. I’ll take care of you from now on.”

You don’t know if you should be relieved or scared by his words. For now, all you can do is let him help you off his lap and lock the bakery.

He looks around your bakery, humming, before he helps you clean the tables. “My ma always wanted a bakery. She was a good baker. Her pie brought me to my knees.”

You glance at him while he continues. “Dad, the old bastard wouldn’t let her, though. He wasn’t good to her.” Frank taps his nose. “See this?” Frank asks as you glance at his nose. “He broke it thrice because I defended her.”

“Oh,” it’s all you get out. No parents are perfect, but Frank’s father sounds like the worst you ever heard about.

“He was a goddamn bastard, but he didn’t break me,” he says while following you to the back of the bakery with the plates and cups in his hands. “I’m telling you this to let you know that I’d never hurt a woman. I’m a bastard, but I’m not a goddamn bastard.”

“Your mom must be proud of you,” you say. “You tried to protect her.”

“She’s long gone.” There’s a hint of sadness in his eyes before it’s gone. “Cancer, ya know. Life likes to fuck you over if it gets the chance. Once free of the bastard, she got sick and died.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, carefully touching his arm. “That must have been tough. Your father was a bad man, and then your mom died.”

“I grew up, and—” he shrugs. “I did lots of shit, ended up in jail. When I got out, Matt found me and…” Frank pauses, eyes drifting toward you, as so often today. “He saved me. You’re scared of him, but he will not hurt you. I swear on my ma’s grave.”

Part 4

Tags in reblog.

[beezusvreeland]

I love this daddy daughter duo 😭

Easter 'And then I met you' thoughts bc it will probably be five years before I Even get to Easter

-Eggs are hand painted instead of dipped bc no one wants to suffer the vinegar smell. Despite not being able to see, Matt has a lot of fun making a mess with his daughter.

-Matt does not go to Easter Mass - instead he ends his Saturday Night at Reader's to spend the night so he can help set up Minnie's Easter Basket and spend the morning with her.

-Easter is spent at the Nelson's -there's brunch and then all the kids egg hunt.

-Minnie wins the egg hunt by a mile. The adults think it's the other kids being nice since she's the youngest, but the truth is Minnie could smell the chocolate in the plastic eggs and hunted them down like a hound dog.

-Matt realizes this hours later when he's helping Minnie open the eggs and she starts telling him which ones have the chocolate in them. He's ridiculously proud of her and lets her eat all the chocolates until Reader intervenes.

[daydreamgoddess14]

The Reading Rooms

Time for the weekly round-up! The response to this last week was INCREDIBLE! I hope the writers listed got some amazing comments and plenty of love because they deserve it!

Always remember to heed the warnings posted by the individual authors. What I'm happy to read may not be what you're happy to read, so I take no responsibility if you find something you're not into.

And finally, Tumblr is a community. Reblog, gush like you've never gushed before - I promise you, the authors below will love it, and love you for it! We write because we love to, but we share our work because we love the community of it. If you read something you like, let the world know! 💕

The List

This week was a busy one! I've been trying to get the next chapter of For Your Consideration finished, and I also posted the first part of a new miniseries - Breakfast.

On reading, I actually read some non-Bucky related stuff this week (shocker!).

Roy Kent / Joaquin Torres / Bob Floyd

This absolute gem Blood, Mud and Everything In Between by @roseandxanderfics featuring Roy Kent and an F!Rugby Player.

Come A Little Closer by @yourauthorjen featuring Joaquin Torres and F!Reader

The magnificent @marvelwitchergilmore killed it with two Joaquin fics I read this week: Where it Hurts and One Night

Sweetness by @cowboybeepboop featuring Bob Floyd x F!Reader (so, so cute, I am becoming a Lewis Pullman girlie)

This cute friends to lovers with Bob x F!Reader by @withahappyrefrain AND also The 5 Times You Flirted with Bob (I LOVE the TGM gang in this one 🥰)

And then, of course, there was SO MUCH BUCKY this week. So much.

Busy Woman by @wbellab (which also has part 2 linked, so be sure to read both!) (F!Reader)

Sneaking Around AND admitting feelings for Bucky by @fanficgirl429 (F!Reader)

Guys.... I have a thing for the suit. I read two fics about the suit. in the suit?! by @delicatebarness and the new uniform by @buckysouvenir (F!Reader, both insanely hot. It's the suit, it's killing me.)

Y'all - have you read declassified by @dreamwritesimagines?? You need to. If Congressman!Bucky gets your vote (yes, yes please) then this is for you because it's PERFECT. Off you pop, go read it now. Three parts so far and I am ITCHING for more. (F!Reader)

We're all into our Tower fics again (🤘2012!) so Interim Measures by @cheekybarnes should be on your list! (F!Reader)

When @mandoalorian starts the notes with "eventual smut and there will be a lot of it" ... well, sign me up. It's the start of if this is war, i surrender (F!Reader)

@sunday-bug has got a glorious Stucky x F!Reader fic Their Little Spitfire

@lessersole has a really great Congressman!Bucky fic which features Matt Murdock (yaay!) Bridging Boroughs (F!Reader)

Everything's Just Perfect by @ama3003 - soooo good, I'm a sucker for an exes fic! (F!Reader)

If we're calling him Sergeant, I'm here for it pals. Hey, Sergeant by @marvelwitchergilmore is sooo good!

I literally read this because I loved that @little-miss-dilf-lover wrote the words "chub on" and I couldn't stop giggling. Nevertheless, Morning Wood was phewww so good!

GIRL DAD BUCKY?! @flowersforbucky, my love, mine all mine was gorgeous 😍

@daxisyzz gave us Light After the Shadows and fluffy, lovely Bucky.

You might recall my excitement about there only being ONE BED!! in this @fanfictiongirlie fic Perfect - which also has a part 2 linked!

Finally, we all need to show Skittle some love over at @mrsbuckybarnes1917 because she finished Plus-One Problems this week - 106k words!! An absolutely bonkers achievement 🙌

I think that was it for this week 😅 I mean, there's probably more. My notes app and my google doc reading lists are not it - I can't keep up! And trying to save stuff in my 'likes' doesn't work either. Also, I wrote this on my laptop this week not my phone. Much less stressful 😂

Happy reading, gang. Enjoy this bloody gorgeous gif I just found. I'll be rewatching it for the foreseeable.

[jaggedamethyst]

that will be enough (matt murdock x reader)

pairing: matt murdock x reader

content: reader has holiday anxiety (me lol), angst, some fluff if you squint

notes: I have missed matt honestly...but this is something short while I work on some other things. if you also have holiday anxiety...sending love. as always, I dont believe in proofreading.

full masterlist linked here

For Matt, the holidays were yet another reminder of the love he had in his heart—most of all for his dad. The love he had for you was intense, yet differed from the emotion held for his late father. While having laid the great Jack to rest, the feeling of doing so always persistent in his mind, he could forget it was there. With you, the warmth consistently filled his body. It made sense, then, that he was exceptionally in tune to your every action. 

Matt dreaded his somber mood during this time of year. He quickly noticed, too, your feigned enjoyment. Whether it be a mindless repetitive tapping, or a grimace at the sight of even more holiday decor—the disdain was clear. 

You’d forced yourself to accept invitations, RSVP, and show up to events this year. With each one, you were reminded of how little you actually had. Not financially, per say, but the lack of family. It was easy to say that that intimacy could be found anywhere, but people sucked. It was officially true that with your low tolerance for bullshit, you had girl bossed your way into having no friends, no family to see, and nobody to love—besides Matt. The thought made you pull away from him. The thought of placing all of this onto Matt alone—to be the only important thing in your life—was a lot. So when you found yourself at another winter soiree, Matt attached at your hip, it was easy for him to notice you weren’t okay. 

He tried to talk to you a few times, you hadn’t responded. Not purposely ignoring him, he noticed, but regressing into that state you would sometimes when you were overstimulated. There was so much happening, you couldn’t process everything. The music was meant to be the obligatory party soundtrack. You let out a huff at the ambience seemingly blaring in your ears. Your head was pounding. There were too many people. Too much talking. Not enough quiet. 

You felt a hand on your back. You turned to see Matt there, as always. You tried to hide the immediate response your body had to him, but you both knew that he was aware. 

“You okay?” His voice the only thing making sense was common for you. He’d say the same about you. When you didn’t respond, he continued, “How are you feeling?” He rubbed a few circles into your lower back, before resting his hand on your waist. 

You nodded, a hesitance there, “I’m o-okay.” You turned your head away, embarrassed by your inability to say two words without choking up. 

Without a word, Matt grasped your hand and pulled you from the table you’d be standing at. You followed him, always willing to do so, you’d go wherever he went. Shut up. You quieted your own thoughts. How pathetic it was to be so incapable and reliant on a man. Your lip quivered. Matt turned to you, again, sensing it all. He moved to grab your coats—sliding on yours, then his. 

“Come on.” 

Your feet were moving on their own. You let the feeling of his arm pulling yours lead you into the elevator. You sniffled, still not much on your mind other than the immense failure you were. 

“Hey,” Matt turned to you as the doors closed. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.” 

You felt the tears building, the pressure burning your eyes. “It won’t.” 

He was in front of you now, the twinge of salt in your tears hitting the air and his lips. Matt turned swiftly, hitting the stop button. You stumbled at the jolt and grasped for the wall for support. 

“Matt! What are you doing?”

“What are you feeling?”

“Nothing, I’m good.”

He tilted his head as he did, “Lie.” 

“I hate you,” 

“Another lie.” 

You turned to face the elevator wall. You sucked your teeth at your reflection. He was always so in tune, whether good or bad you still were not sure. It was times like this, where you let as if you were crawling in your skin, that the thought of explaining that phenomenon made you feel ill. 

He interrupted the thought, “It’s okay.” Don’t get yourself worked up. 

A split second later you spoke frantically, “I don’t think I can live without you.” The words blended together, the embarrassment increasing with every letter that left your mouth. 

He smiled a bit, nodding, “Thats good to hear…seeing as I don’t really plan on going anywhere.” 

The sound of you inhaling and exhaling slow filled the elevator cart. You looked at him, then. “What I mean…meant…is that…I am overwhelmed right now.” 

An arched brow and a nod encouraged you to continue. 

“I have nobody,” He opened his mouth to interrupt. You quieted him with your hand up, “…except you. Which isn’t…ideal.” There was sympathy, but silence still. He allowed you the space, here, to say everything. “Whenever we’re out…when I’m out…I feel so lonely. It’s like this time of year just heightens that feeling I have that everything should be perfect. But nothing is. Nothing can be.” You paused, “But I want it to.” 

“I miss my dad.” Matt stated plainly. “And I don’t really talk to my mom.” It was your turn to nod this time. “I have a few people I care about, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough. Especially during Christmas.” He went to lean on the opposite elevator wall as you were standing. “I imagined myself having years way beyond what I had with my dad. In church on Christmas, or maybe watching movies with him…I didn’t get much of that.” He stabilized himself, removing his red frames with one hand. “I don’t want you to feel burdened by the expectation of what a cookie-cutter life should be. Sometimes there’s other plans for us…and honestly…if we only have each other, forever, that will be enough for me.” 

You nodded aggressively, trying to make sense of that. You tried to drill the words into your mind so as to never be in this state again. 

“I hate Christmas.” 

Matt moved to hit the button, “Me too, babe.”

There wasn’t much said on the way to his apartment, nor when you’d both crawled into bed. After a while, Matt grabbed your palm and kissed the back of your hand. He spoke into your now intertwined fingers. “I can’t live without you either, by the way.” 

“Good to know that we’re both extremely helpless individuals.”

He chuckled, “We truly belong together”

You hummed. The intense feeling hadn’t completely left you, but rather been satiated by the knowledge that despite its existence—Matt would always be there, too.

[outoftheseine]

- MATT MURDOCK FIC RECS 2 -

hot hot hot hot hot | note: please be aware of the authors’ warnings before reading. fics include canon tw’s like: violence, death, blood, swearing. some fics have 18+ content so minors please DNI.

part one | main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

let you break my heart again | matt’s pov | part two • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @angst-cravings (some angst, fluff, unrequited love)

one more time | part two • matt murdock x fem!enhanced!reader

↳ by @murdock-barnes (flufff)

hold them gently (these confessions) | part two | part three • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @privateanxieties (fluff, some angst, mystery, pining)

sweetest poison • matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @place-called-space (this is so good i can’t wait for more parts)

seeking forgiveness • matt murdock x pregnant!reader

↳ by @bellaxgiornata (very angsty, a lot of grovelling, hurt/comfort)

sad girl • matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @cellophaine (fluff, smut, angst)

buttercup • matt murdock x baker!reader

↳ by @thyme-in-a-bubble (fluff, smut, angst, tw: rape, ptsd)

do no harm • matt murdock x fem!doctor!reader

↳ by @farfromstrange (angst, smut, tw: dv, child abuse, mental illnesses)

stitches | part two • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @megthemewlingquim (angst, hurt/comfort, kidnapping, second part is smut fyi)

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC’S

saw you dancing in a crowded room • matt murdock x fem!accountant!reader

↳ by @scarletsloveletter (angst but fluffy ending, second chance romance)

matt murdock as a dad would include...

↳ by @bowieandqueen11 (fluff)

home sweet home • husband!matt murdock x wife!reader

↳ by @maple-the-awesome (very fluffy, dad!matt, comfort)

tragedy • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @modern-vellichor (angst, comfort)

deserving • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @sgt-morgan (angst)

ask me tomorrow • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @murdockparker (fluffy adorable)

rising in the east • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @murdockparker (fluff)

choice and chance and promise • matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @courtforshort15 (slight angst, mostly fluff)

calling out • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @ithebookhoarder (angst, comfort)

the perfect cheesecake • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @cece-writes-fanfic (fluff)

be still • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @dameronology (comfort, a little angsty)

the defence rests • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @dameronology (fluff, a little angst)

the lakes • matt murdock x hard-of-hearing!reader

↳ by @goldenlikedayl1ght (comfort, fluff)

more of you • matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @chellestrash (smut, bantering)

your wedding dress • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @shadowbriar (very angsty)

sincerely, anxiety • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @brokebonewritings (veryy fluffy)

skin • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @reckoningss (angst, hurt/comfort, fluff)

black friday • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @goldenlikedayl1ght (very fluffy)

here • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @amberlynnmurdock (angst, comfort)

lifeline • matt murdock x fem!reader

↳ by @sunflowersandsapphires (angst, comfort, fluff, panic attacks)

play along • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @mayfieldss (fluff)

orange roses • matt murdock x reader

↳ by @bornagainmurdock (fluff)

[ticinhas]

The plot of end of days, in which Matt has like 7 kids with women he used to see and is an absent father to all of them. It’s his whole vibe!

matts like an absent father to me

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 11: Girl Dad

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Girl Dad (🌼)

Summary: Your daughter likes to have tea parties with her father, and he is more than happy to play along.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of pregnancy, parenthood, slight angst, established relationship, husband!Matt

Word Count: 1.4k

A/n: I don't know about you, but I see Matt as a Girl Dad who is more than eager to give his little girl whatever she wants. And yes, she would be just like him.

Read Me On AO3!

The apartment is quiet—too quiet. Normally, you wouldn’t complain about a moment of peace; with a three-year-old around, even a minute to relax would be heaven on earth, but there is something eerie about the silence in the four walls you call home. No laughing, no crying, and no pattering of bare feet along the floorboards. No shouting, ‘Mommy!’ Until you drop everything to pay attention to your very quirky and very eccentric daughter. She’s got that from her father, too.

Silence with a toddler is hardly a good thing when she is far out of your sight. You learned that the hard way the day she got into your makeup and decided to repaint the bathroom. Despite all of the chaos, you have never loved a tiny human more than her.

When you got pregnant, it came as a shock to you—both yourself and Matt. He’s always been Catholic, and you’d been together for years at that point already, but there was something about the thought of having a baby that scared him in more ways than one. The full extent only hit you though when you peed on a stick, and it turned blue.

What if he couldn’t do this, he thought. What if he couldn’t be the father your child needed? What if he was entirely too damaged to be a father? What if the fact he couldn’t see would make it impossible for him to have a relationship with his child? He told you all of that and more. His father was good, but he died, and his mother left him, and he turned into Daredevil because the world is just so full of endless injustice; what good could that possibly do for a child, he thought.

Needless to say, the first time Matt held his daughter, he was terrified. He thought, why on earth would anyone, in good conscience hand him, the man whose fists are scared from countless fights on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, such a small, fragile, and innocent human being? 

“Congratulations, Dad,” one of the nurses had said. 

Dad. For nine months, he’d heard her little heartbeat in your belly. He’d felt her kick when she was strong enough to do so. It was surreal to him that you were carrying his daughter—his daughter. You were really doing this. Having a family. 

Though when the air first filled her tiny lungs and the nurses placed her screaming form on your chest, reality hit him. 

All those fears he’d had at the beginning of your pregnancy bubbled back to the surface. The medical equipment around him was so loud he almost had a panic attack, but you were okay, and the baby was okay, and suddenly, you were asking if he wanted to hold her, too. You, the woman who just gave birth to his daughter, and the first love of his life. 

The first time Matt held his daughter, he was terrified, but when his shaky fingers brushed her delicate skin to see her face, it only took a second for him to fall in love. 

“Hi,” he’d said. “Uh, I’m your Dad.”

She was looking up at him, he could feel it, and all his fears melted away again. 

Grace Murdock. You knew her name before she was even born, but it hit him even more when she was finally here. In a way, she was his saving grace.

That was three years ago. Three magical, chaotic, and sleepless years ago. 

Grace was the best thing to ever happen to you after falling in love with her father, but she did inherit his tendency to get into trouble; when neither Grace nor Matt is anywhere to be found, all alarms in your head go off. 

You put down the towel and make your way from the kitchen down the hallway. 

Faint voices start to reach you the closer you get to your daughter’s bedroom. “More tea, daddy,” you hear Grace say. It’s not a question, it is merely a blatant statement. 

Matt hums. “Thank you, sweetheart. It’s delicious.”

“No, you dwink it!”

“I am drinking it.”

“No, you’re not. Dwink it.”

You peek through the gap in the door, not sure what to expect, but when you catch your husband sitting at the tiny pink table you got her last Christmas, surrounded by stuffed animals in princess dresses, you have to bite your lip not to laugh. You didn’t expect that.

Matt is draped in one of her blankets, wearing a pink crown that has certainly seen better days. His large frame barely fits on the children’s chair he seems to have been banished to, and he’s holding a teacup about the size of his pinky finger. But what surprises you most is how serious he looks as he takes a ‘sip’ from the imaginary tea to please his little girl. 

He’s never going to live that one down. 

Grace nods, hands propped up on her hips as her brown hair bounces up and down. She’s the spitting image of her father. “Good job, daddy,” she says.

Matt, sitting there in all his stoic seriousness, sips from his tiny teacup with the same level of focus he’d use in court. “Thank you, Your Highness,” he says. 

“You’re a pwetty princess.”

He nods, dead serious. “That’s right. I’m a pretty princess.”

You giggle quietly to yourself. It’s the expression on his face—this mix of pure, unfiltered love for his daughter—that gets you. No matter how silly or extravagant, for Grace, he’d do anything. He’s making memories with her that she will remember long after she’s moved out of the house, and that, to you, is what makes you fall in love with him all over again.

Grace refills his cup with expert precision. “Mommy’s the queen,” she states. “’Cause she’s the boss of you.”

Matt pauses for a split second, his jaw slacking slightly. “Hold on, sweetie. Mommy’s not the boss of me,” he says.

Bless him, you think. He’s so wrong.

“She is,” Grace insists. 

“And what am I?” He sounds almost hurt. 

“A princess. Duh!”

She goes about pouring tea for her stuffed animals next, not a care in her little world. Matt’s head turns toward you. Of course, he heard you coming. 

“You’re lucky she’s not calling you her peasant,” you say, your voice teasing. “You still get to be a pretty princess.”

He chuckles. “You’re the boss.”

“I am, aren’t I?” 

Matt shakes his head as if he’s giving in to some long-held truth. “Apparently, I’ve been dethroned,” he says. His smile, though playful, is full of warmth as he turns his attention back to Grace.

“You’re not dethroned,” you clarify, sliding into the room. “You’ve just… been promoted to Princess-in-Chief.”

He raises an eyebrow. “It’s Pretty-Princess-in-Chief, Mrs. Murdock. Thank you very much.” 

You laugh. “Apologies. Pretty Princess-In-Chief, of course.”

Grace notices you then for the first time since you’ve entered, and her face lights up. “Mommy!” she says. “I made tea.”

“For me?” you ask.

“Yes!”

“That’s so sweet.” You let her pull you to one of the tiny plastic chairs. “Thank you, baby.”

Matt instantly leans closer to you, lowering his voice just for you to hear. “You know, I’m not sure how I feel about the hierarchy in this household,” he says.

You snort. “Oh, you’re perfectly fine with it. Besides, you’re still her hero,” you say. “Even if you have to wear a pink crown to get the job done.”

He shakes his head with a sigh that’s far too dramatic to be serious. “Yeah, well… I’ll take whatever title she gives me.”

“And wear a crown,” you add, adjusting the slightly crooked plastic crown on his head. “Suits you, by the way.”

He takes your hand in his. “I’d wear a hundred crowns if it made her happy.”

The love in his eyes is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. He’s so in love with her it makes you want to cry sometimes because the man who once had been so scared of becoming a father now is the best he could possibly be for his baby girl.

Your lips ghost over his cheek, your kiss a gentle breath against his skin. “I know.”

Grace rushes back over with a stuffed bear and plops it on the table. “Mr. Bear says no kissin’!” she says.

You pull away from him. “Sorry, Your Highness.”

“Very demanding,” Matt murmurs.

From the corner of your eye though, you can see him smirk, and all you can say to that is, “I wonder where she’s got that from.” 

Your daughter is completely in her element, pouring more imaginary tea and singing quietly to herself. 

This is it, you think. These are the kind of moments that remind you why, despite everything—the sleepless nights, the chaos, and the uncertainty—you wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

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[lovelybucky1]

Making this ask off of anon because I’m so brave >:3

Keep speaking your dad!matt truths, it’s honestly keeping me going (in case you couldn’t tell by me spamming you)

i have so many dad!matt truths

dad!matt never reveals that he’s daredevil. he doesn’t want to trouble you by giving you that knowledge, so he keeps you in the dark. he always has a lie prepared to explain how he got his injuries and he always manages to distract you from asking further questions.

you’re his girl and it’s his job to take care of you, not the other way around. in his mind, he’s sparing you. saving you from the gritty reality of his second life and allowing you to enjoy the cushy sweetness of the one he’s carefully curated for you to see.

he lies right to your face and you’re none the wiser. you would have no reason to suspect your boyfriend, the blind, successful lawyer, would be a masked vigilante. matt likes old records, cooking, and baseball. he’s not capable of doing anything remotely close to what daredevil does.

he tells himself he’s doing right by you. he’s just looking out for you like he always does. but there’s some deep, dark part of him that he doesn’t let out often that enjoys your ignorance. he can have you all to himself; you belong to matt murdock. you don’t need to be shared with the devil of hell’s kitchen, and vice versa. the things that belong to the devil don’t need to be shared with matt. maybe it would do you some good to check his phone…