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sgt-morgan · 30 days

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Fuck. I used my last ounce of creativity on this I fear.

Mine all mine. 🌙🦋

Joel Miller x OC

Summary: late night ramblings.

Warnings: angst, pure unadulterated angst. Death of a character. Illusion to illness or cancer. The unnamed OC is AFAB and female identifying.

A/N: This is so fucking sad. It’s depressing. Do not be mad at me if you read it and are sad, I cried while writing it. I was listening to Mitski and Neil Young and I accidentally made this. I’m so sorry. Read at your own risk. I’ve been going through it so I needed this outlet.

Joel senses it before it happens. He knows all her little tricks and tells. Hell, he should, after about four years of sleeping next to her every night. Her every tick is tattooed on his brain, he can practically read her every movement behind his eyelids. She shifts a bit, and curls up on his chest and then he can feel the weight of her eyes on him, her chin digging into his chest. She’s staring at his face, and here any moment now, she’d run her fingertips down the bridge of his nose, over his lips, down his cheek, then she’d rest her hand on the side of his neck. She can’t sleep, or she won’t, doesn’t matter, if she wants him awake, he’ll be awake.

She traces her favorite path with ease, and he sighs into the calm feeling of sweet contact. Her little sweet, familiar, touches as she debates whether or not to bother him. She, of course, is not a bother, but she wouldn’t believe it. So he just waits as she plucks up the courage to start speaking. He gets impatient though, always wanting more of her, as much of her as he can get, so he decides to cave.

“Baby, can I help you?” He cracks an eye open to see her staring up at him with tired yet adoring eyes and he grins.

“No, I just love you.” She shakes her head and keeps staring. He stares right back, wanting to keep every bit of her he can locked away in his heart. He’s been trying to do that more, he knows he needs it he guesses, he still thinks there are pieces of her his memory will never properly replicate. He hopes he’s wrong.

“Ok,” he nods, running a hand up and down her back in a soothing motion. “You’re still awake?” It’s a rhetorical question, he knows she’s awake obviously, he just hasn’t picked up on the why yet.

“Yeah,” she nods, gently rubbing her cheek on his chest and inhaling his scent. “I’m tired, but I’m not sleepy.”

Joel peeks at the alarm clock to see its 11:50. Not terrible, it’s not 3 am, he figures she’s probably in pain, so she’s not sleeping well. He forgets the clock, it doesn’t matter, he’d never sleep again if he thought she needed him.

“Ok,” he nods again, pressing a kiss to her hair. “ whatcha thinking about?” He runs a hand through her hair and scratches the base of her scalp. If she could purr he thinks, she’d be as content as a cat, she loves when he plays with her hair, always has.

“When we get married, I wanna do it on the beach.” She mumbles, lightly biting his arm before kissing him in the same spot. “I wanna go out of the way of a lot of people so people who I’m obligated to invite won’t come to my destination wedding.” She starts running a finger up and down his face again and he just nods and listens to her start talking about everything and nothing. “I also think it would be really funny to make Ellie and Sarah the flower girl and ring barer. I want my sister to officiate, and I think that we should make my brother an usher, just to piss him off. June can be the made of honor. Also? I don’t wanna wear shoes under the dress. I just think they’re uncomfortable.” He hums in approval.

“Yeah, that way I can wear boots and it won’t seem weird.” He nods.

“Exactly,” she shifts again, laying flat in his arm next to him and stares up at the ceiling, silent for a moment. “I think pink would look really ugly on me, so we can’t use that as the wedding color.”

“Yeah, we should do green, looks good on you.” Joel nods.

“Yeah, sold,” she nods. “Harvest moon by Neil young is out first dance.” She says, wrapping an arm around Joel’s again from this new position on her back. He turns his face over to look at her, her eyes are a puffy purple color, and her lips are cracked. A cough wrenches from her chest, and he doesn’t say anything, just watches her. Soaks up the tone of her voice and the color of her eyes, even though they’re bloodshot and exhausted.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll make Bill play it on the piano. He’s got the talent.” He nods, listening to her breath rattle in her chest. He breathes in the smell of her, it’s muffled by sweat and sickness, but he wants it imprinted in his skin and on his brain.

“We should do a bonfire instead of an actual afterparty or reception or whatever.” Her breathes keep getting shallower and shallower, her words are slurring. He can feel the tears press behind his eyes, but he won’t acknowledge them, and he damn sure won’t let her see them. “Couple coolers of beer and someone’s car radio. That kinda thing.”

“I like it, casual but fun.” He nods, pulling her closer and burying his nose in her hair.

“Do you think she’ll like me?” She wonders, the words are getting spacey and unintelligible, but he doesn’t mind, he knows what she’s asking.

“Oh sure, she’s gonna love you.” Joel nods, running a hand up and down her arm. Then everything is quiet and he just lays there, soaking her in, he wants to scream for Ellie, but she saw her this morning, Ellie already knows everything she needs to hear from her, so he decides to be selfish, wants her to relax into this. Her eyes drift around seeing things he can’t, but god does he wish he could.

“My sister, she looks so much like my mom now.” She mumbles. “And my brother is tall, I didn’t think he would be tall.” She laughs. “My mom always fussed with his clothes, I wonder if she’s gonna fuss with mine, think my dress is gonna fit?”

“Course, it’s gonna be great, you’re gonna be the prettiest bride out there.” He nods, letting a tear soak into his pillow. He pulls her that much closer, trying to memorize the press of her against his skin.

“Oh wow, my June is so pretty.” She says breathless. “She doesn’t look a thing like her daddy thank god, she’s gonna love you.” She laughs, but it’s a wet,rattling thing. It hurts his chest. “I bet she and Sarah are gonna be best friends.” There’s that silence again, he lets her think. He would t dare interrupt whatever she’s seeing right now. Then she gasps.

“She’s got your eyes.” She says with such conviction, and he looses his last bits of restraint. He knows who she’s talking about. “Joel, she’s beautiful. You were right, she’s sweet.” Joel can’t help the sobs that wrack his body now, but he knows she doesn’t notice them, he wouldn’t be crying if he thought she could. She turns to him suddenly, and it would be startling if her eyes weren’t so radiant and happy.

“Oh hey there cowboy, I love you.” she grins as if meeting him that first time all over again and he beams at her and mouths it back through his tears. “What’s a girl gotta do to get a kiss?” She teases and he can’t help but grin.

“All you ever have to to is ask.” He sniffles and kisses her with every ounce of love he can find in his body. He breathes every last piece of his soul he has left in him into that kiss. It’s a wretched thing, torn up and sad, but it’s her’s. He wants her to have it, to take it with her. She’ll know what to do with the pieces, she’ll mend it and give it back when he sees her again. When he pulls back her eyes are closed, she looks peaceful, he won’t try and wake her. He’ll spare himself the false hope. He doesn’t want to disturb her anyway.

“You just get ready up there, you hear?” He whispers, tucking her hair behind her ears. “You get all dressed up, and you practice your dancing. I’ll see you on the beach. I’ll wear my boots, and my tie for you ok? You just stand at the end of the aisle and look pretty. I’ll see you as soon as I get there.” He looks miserably at the window where the breeze floats into the room, casting moonlight over the sill. A little butterfly is on the sill, he smiles when he sees it.

“Thanks for coming to get her Sarah.” He huffs a laugh and lays there holding her a while longer. It’s the last chance he’ll get after all.

When morning breaks, Tommy finds Joel sitting under the tree behind his house. He’s got her jacket across his lap and her locket curled in his fist. The dirt is piled up neatly and a little wooden cross is on top of it, her name neatly carved into it as well as a little moon. Tommy knew this was coming. Knew it from the moment Joel came barreling out of the doctors after you inexplicably collapsed on a patrol. It was awful, watching her suffer like that. It nearly killed them all, but she was a trooper. Through all of the pain, and sickness, and loss of function, she stood strong. She smiled and laughed and reminded them all they would be ok. Hell, she was so damn cheerful throughout the whole thing he almost believed they would be. He didn’t believe it now.

“She had to go get ready, we’re getting married yah know?” Joel sniffs and raises to dust himself off. He pats Tommy on the shoulder. Tommy knew about this, the planned wedding in the spring. She talked about it when she felt her worst, planning a wedding that would never happen, but if it made her smile they would plan her a wedding on mars. It was whatever got them through it, that was the rule, whatever made the day go by.

Tommy doesn’t know what to say, what to do to make it better, so he doesn’t say anything. He just sheds a tear and nods, patting his brother on the back. “I put the stuff that’s useable in a box on the porch, get em to who needs em. That’s what she wanted. Hope you don’t mind me keeping this though.” He runs his hands over the fabric of her coat and shakes his head.

“Of course not Joel, that’s fine. Keep whatever you want. I’ll take- um.” Tommy clears his throat and sniffs. “I’ll take the box to Maria.”

Joel nods. “I’ll uh, I’ll just go give this to Ellie.” He runs a thumb over the locket he’s holding. “She’s got her other jacket.” Tommy nods and his eyes are suddenly drawn to a set of rings on a new chain around Joel’s neck.

“She told me to hold onto em till the wedding. Says she would loose them.” Joel sniffs. “I’ll just. I’ll just go see Ellie.” Tommy hopes Ellie doesn’t give him a hard time, they may not be on speaking terms, but she is their only level ground. They don’t fight when she’s involved. He hopes that the kid lets him back in, he looks bitterly at the grave and presses and hand to his lips. Joel whistles a tune as he walks away, and Tommy’s eyes press closed when he recognizes it. He can’t help the bitter sob that wracks through him, heartbroken once again for his big brother, unable to fathom how one person can keep loosing so much and still keep going. Still, Joel’s tune wraps around him like a hug. It’s their song.

“Because I'm still in love with you

I want to see you dance again

Because I'm still in love with you

On this harvest moon.”

#spotify

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sgt-morgan · 1 month

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Thank you bb 😘

Robin Bites Back 🖤

Summary: Meet the Robinsons but with Fuck words and Vigilantes. You’re gonna love it.

Warnings: AFAB and female identifying reader, Mentions of g!ns, Cannon typical violence, crude language, probably blasphemy, illusions to sexy times, Matt’s dangerously beautiful ass, Deadpool. You get the drill.

A/N: here’s hoping tomorrow we have a little more Matt in our lives. If not imma blow a goddamn gasket.

Pt. 1 Guessing Game.

Pt. 3 The Test

DD Masterlist

Matt knew you finding out about his being Daredevil could only cause trouble. There was no other way around it. You knowing had been trouble of the highest order, and you find newer, weirder, ways to prove it every day. Trouble of the highest order. Your jokes only got worse and more frequent, but when you meet all his vigilante friends, putting them in their place seemed to be your new favorite pastime. You first proved it with Spider-Man.

Stumbling in at four AM should mean waking you, but for some reason, you were awake. If he had to guess, you were reading over court documents that he told you needed reading three months ago, and you were just now reading them, but that didn’t matter. Matt could smell the sleep on your skin, the melatonin your body was producing changing your normal functions just enough to give him a sense of your sheer exhaustion. your tiny cold shivers even though the apartment was fairly warm, your tear stained cheeks from yawning, your glacial typing speed, the signs radiated from where you sat. You smelled of him, his shampoo and body wash, his shirt he wore to laze around the apartment yesterday, your deodorant and perfume that you always insisted on wearing at all times, it screamed of comfort, a radiating beacon of calm nestled into his couch and all he wanted to do was bury himself in it. Instead, he carried with him a half dead Spider-Man and an open wound you were gonna probably need to stitch. They had just finished stopping a robbery at a butcher in the seedy end of Hell’s Kitchen, but they hadn’t managed to catch the bad guy, who was insanely good with a knife. He roughed them up pretty bad, and this is how they appeared to you after that fight.

“Well holy shit!” You cried out when you noticed them, clutching your chest, shocked. Your heart rate had skyrocketed, you were blushing, and your blanket had fallen to the ground. So, if Matt knew you like he thought, It wasn’t the fact that he was injured, or that Spider-Man was injured either he presumed, it was probably because you were- “I’m like… half naked, so if your little vigilante buddy doesn’t have your same proclivities, I’m gonna put on pants and brb.”

“I’m sorry!” Peter groaned and smacked a hand over his eyes. Matt dropped him on the couch and flung his mask in the general direction of his trunk.

“Don’t apologize, Matt is always-“ you paused, registering Peter’s tone of voice, his countenance that you hadn’t really picked up on before. “Oh my god. Matthew Michael Murdock, is that a fucking child?” Matt cringed and he could feel Peter do the same.

“Uh… no?” Matt tried, knowing that there would be no way to fool you into belief that Peter was a big boy superhero, who could lift a truck with ease if he wanted, now to you he was a tiny little baby who you would attempt to adopt like a stray cat.

“You’re a shit liar, and your whole life depends on it.” She grumbled grumpily, and Matt smiled even though he should be irritated. He was in fact, not a shit liar, you were just really good at reading him, and it gave him some sort of warm fuzzy feeling in his chest.

“No ma’am, he’s not lying! I just turned 18!” Peter tried to butt in helpfully, but he really was only making it worse. You groaned and Matt winced.

“This is so wrong. You, spider boy, take your hand off your face, you’re bleeding there and we got no idea where your hands have been.” You barked, pulling a first aid kit from under your sink and marching to the couch. “Move sexy, you’re next.” You said smacking his ass and making Peter giggle. He rolled his sightless eyes again, and went to the bedroom looking to shower and change while you sorted out first aid and clothing for Peter, he was starting to realize that you were totally gonna adopt the kid, and he wasn’t ready to be a vigilante father. A shower would help him organize a strategy to get you to back off, but he also forgets that you’re a lawyer too. Should have given up while he was ahead. By the time he got out, Peter had his head in your lap and was laughing through a wince as you stitched up a cut near his hairline.

“So, you recognized him bec-“ he was cut off by you snipping the last of the thread and gesticulating wildly.

“Listen kid, that ass don’t quit! Wether it’s jeans, a dress suit, the devil suit, the black suit, the new one, and god help me if he’s in his stupid silk boxers, it’s like a homing beacon. Round, perfect, and don’t get me started on his thi-“

“Baby! He’s 18!” Matt blushed and Peter only laughed harder.

“Yeah, and I’m teaching art history, Martholomew! High schoolers are all about that shit!” You tapped twice gently on the table, giving him your little winking signal to tell him you’re joking, it instantly made him smile. Everyone has a gift, yours just so happens to be cutting tension.

When you were in court, that smart mouth and keen wit of yours was a killer weapon, often winning you many a case, but when you used it to talk people out of their gloom, it was a beautiful bloom of spring, and Matt was thrilled to be the one that got to hear your musings on a regular basis. You made the smallest of phrases poetry, the finest of details something so titular to a sentence he forgets exactly where your point began and his ended. You were a true wordsmith. He loved it even more when you became a real comedian with those talents, only you having the ability to pull from him such belly laughs that left him in tears for hours from just one off handed joke you barely thought about. Your mind fascinated him, and he hoped to spend his whole life exploring its depths. Right now though? Right now he needed you to stop telling the boy wonder about how hot his thighs were.

“Our father in heaven woman-“ Matt grumbled and you gasped.

“Mattnelius!” You smacked a hand over your moth and chest. “That sounded very close to Blasphemy! And with a child present! You should be ashamed! I’m so sorry for his behavior Peter! Go shower, I’ll find you clothes.” You patted his arm and shooed him from your lap.

“No it’s okay, I’ll ju-“

“Baby we can’t-“

“Boys, I swear to fucking god if you don’t do what I tell you right now I’ll call Foggy, and that girlfriend of yours!” Matt and Peter both straightened up immediately. Peter rushed to the bathroom with a squeaked ‘Yes ma’am!’ and Matt sat next to you with his wound exposed. He sat in silence as you stitched his cut closed, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Honey, he’s not a cat we can’t just-“

“Mathew Michael Murdock, if you say I can’t keep Peter I will go work for Landman and Zach so fast it’ll make your head spin. Now, go get the extra sheets and pillow for the couch while I find the kid some clothes. That’s an order Batman, before Robin goes Jason Fuckin Todd.” You snapped and kissed his cheek aggressively.

“Yes dear.”

The next person you met was Frank Castle, and it was… something. Matt can confidently say that this one was the meeting he was most dreading, it wasn’t like their meeting was ever a good thing, so why would he expect him meeting you would go any better.

Frank was in town hunting down a terrible criminal, Matt knew that. Matt also knew that when Frank hunts somebody down, it’s usually quite explosive. What he didn’t expect, was for his mark to be your client. That client so happens to be the Butcher who’s shop he and Spider-Man stopped someone from robbing. Now that he thinks about it, it was probably Frank. Which means that Butcher probably wanted to eat your liver with a side of Fava beans and a nice Chianti. Yuck. He heard over the police scanner that shots had been fired in the vicinity of the offices of Nelson, Paige, and Murdock as he was out patrolling, and he remembered you saying earlier that you needed to sign and print some paperwork to get back to the judge on your current case. So when a description approximating Frank Castle then came through over the scanner, he booked it to the office. He vaulted in through the window, and there was your client, unconscious in your office, with a bullet wound. Matt would have expected you to be shook up about the whole thing, but instead he heard a shouting match go down.

“No you asshole, I didn’t know he is a fucking serial killer! I’m not omnipotent! Why don’t YOU tell ME what the fuck is going on, because APPARENTLY you LOVE playing God! I mean seriously Castle, what in the name of John Wayne do you think you’re doing? This isn’t the Good the Bad and the goddamn Ugly! You can’t just judge, jury, executioner someone in my goddamn office! Now there’s a fucking bloodstain on my rug, and I’m gonna have to talk to cops! I’m a lawyer and I’m dating a Vigilante Frank, I fuckin hate cops!” Frank’s heart was thudding at an unnatural pace, and he was rooted in place. He was terrified of his tiny girlfriend, and honestly it was hysterical. He couldn’t help but giggle.

“What the fuck Red?” He growled out as Matt stepped over to the unconscious man and proceeded to stop the blood flow so the man didn’t actually bleed out. “Why did you let your girl take him on as a client, are you fucking insane?”

“No, Castle we didn’t kn-“

“IM FUCKING SORRY? Did you just call Matt crazy? Didn’t you shoot him in the fucking head when you first met him?” She fumed and there was an electrical zapping sound, and he felt Frank flinch away from youu. That’s when he noticed that the burnt flesh smell wasn’t coming from the Serial killer, it was coming from-

“I’m sorry, but baby, did you tase Frank!?” He laughed.

“Yeah, that’s why the fucking riddler here isn’t dead!” You huffed, kicking the now groaning criminal in the head to knock him back out. “I don’t have the time to fill out the goddam paperwork! Now take your buddy Deadshot here, and get the hell out.” You grumble and pick up your phone.

“What are you doing?” Matt tilted his head as you dialed 911.

“Calling the cops Mathew, if I don’t, it’ll look suspicious, and I don’t really want to go in for questioning for my involvement in the murder of an ex client!” You growled, throwing a stapler at Frank that he caught with ease and placed on a filing cabinet.

“Ok Castle, let’s go” Matt grabbed his arm and forced him up the fire escape to the roof of the building.

“No fucking way, I’m going back and-“ He started, but you had just hung up the phone.

“If you don’t get out now, I’ll hand you to the police my godDAMN self, and I’ll make sure I tase you unconscious if I have to lock DD in a closet to do it!” She half shouted, Matt couldn’t see it, but he just knew Frank stood there and glared menacingly. Or well, he did until you flashed your taser at him again.

“FUCK! FINE!” He flinched, crawling out the window.

“Have I told you I love you lately?” Matt grinned, pulling you to him with a sweet kiss.

“No, in fact, you have not.” She huffed and pushed him towards the window. You didn’t have to have super senses to hear the cops pounding up the stairs to your floor. “You owe me Batman, now get out.”

Matt meandered his way to the roof, where Frank was still mumbling and pacing watching his target being loaded into an ambulance while handcuffed to the stretcher.

“Now he’s gonna get a cushy fucking hospital stay, when he could be dead.” Frank grumbled, swiping a hand down his face. “I’ll tell you what though, that old lady of yours? She’s…”

“A keeper? Crazy? Super hot? Yeah,” Matt nodded, crouching on a ledge to hear you and the officers better. You were fake crying, he grinned, you were amazing. “I know.”

“Yeah, that. Seriously though, that taser hurt like a bitch. She’s wild.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “Real set of balls your girl. Tell her I said thanks, and if she gets in my way again I’ll-“

“You’ll what, get tased again? Because sure as fuck aren’t killing me!” She laughed from behind them and Frank flinched. “Now get the hell off my roof, do you need first aid?” When he shook his head no, she reached in her pocket and pulled out a gun.

“It was under my desk, be glad I saw it before they came in. I swear to God Murdock, if you say anything you’re sleeping on the couch.” She grumbled and stomped downstairs.

“Jesus red, she’s a-“

“Goodbye Frank!” Matt laughed, rushing towards a robbery happening two miles away.

Two weeks later had been kidnapped by vampires, and it had everything to do with, you guessed it, that serial killer cannibal you got arrested. Yes, Vampires, Matt could hardly fathom that outcome, let alone take on an army of the undead with just his blind ass and a 17 year old. So, Spider-Man called in the troops. Since everyone loved Peter, and everyone was curious about the woman who tased Frank Castle and lived to tell the tale, they all decided to be helpful without being dicks and Matt was truly grateful. He forgot though, that just because they behaved didn’t mean you would.

You were honestly ok, sure, you were surrounded by a bunch of people calling themselves the hand, there were fucking Vampires apparently, and they kept referring to Matt’s super hot and tragic dead ex girlfriend, but you could handle all that. What you couldn’t handle, was that you had to be in court to plead a very big fucking case that could actually earn you money, and you’re stuck HERE! Damn it all to hell, you told Mathew that the vigilante shit was fine if it didn’t fuck with your day job and now here you were, letting it fuck with YOUR day job. What a bummer. Then came the drugs.

Your mouth can only get you out of so much, and unfortunately, these ninjas were entirely unwilling to speak to the Deposition before risking your drug tests for work. At least they were fun drugs! Clearly, they were going to try and knock you out, but your lovely boyfriends buddies reached you before you got enough in your system to make you pass out. So, instead, you were subjected to very vivid and colorful fight sequences, like your brain was trying to put you in a Tarantino film without all the feet. It was Moonknight who removed the IV, and once he did, he was immediately shot three times, but instead of dying bloodied and broken in your lap like you thought he would, he got back up and kept fighting, the bullets falling to the ground as he went. He kept swirling and smashing heads, ridding the room you were in of Vampires and attempting to free you in the meantime, in moments of downtime you got to introduce yourself a bit.

“Shit dude, you’re like… invincible. DD, has gotta learn that one.” You laughed.

Moonknight cocked his head in your direction and you smiled with a nod. “Sorry I haven’t got you free yet hermosa! Little busy, but when I free up you’re Prioridad número uno!”

“Spanish? Cool, and no worries MoonBoy you keep doing the thing, I can wait. I’m not helpful at the moment anyway, can’t stand and WOAH! You can pull a knife from your chest!? Badass! Devilman needs to know the name of your suit guy.” You gasp as he pulls moondarts from the suit and starts slashing.

“Bueno, yeah, you’re definitely la novia then. My suit guy is an Egyptian god so I’m not thinking he’d like that Hermosa.” He winked and you laughed.

“Ooh cool, so you’re a pagan then? I can dig it.” You nod sagely, though with all the drugs, it doesn’t look it. Jake thinks you look more like a broken bobble head. He can’t help but appreciate the fact you’re not freaking out though, that was impressive.

“No, actually I’m Jewish, or well, Marc is Jewish.” He shrugs, “Same body different people.” He has no goddamn idea why he told you that but your mouth forms an ‘o’ like you get it perfectly and you smile. All the while, Jake is still killing vampires left and right while chaos reigns around them.

“Like the movie with James McAvoy uh… SPLINTER! That’s right, splinter. NO WAIT! SPLIT!” You proclaim with a snap of your fingers. “No wait, that’s probably offensive, that guy in that movie was an asshole. You seem chill. The idea is still there though, multiple people, one brain. Very fun.”

“Si, ¡Exactamente! Damn, nobody has ever gotten it that quick.” He muttered and Steven took over the body, having cleared an opening to get you out of the fray or handed off to the next person.

“Right darling! Let’s get you out that chair here-“ He cut your bonds easily and heaved you to your feet and instantly you almost face planted. “Shite, sorry!” Steven hissed balancing you again, “forgot about the whole being drugged thing!”

“New accent! This must be personality two, Hi personality two!” You smiled and patted his shoulder, missing the first pat but landing the second.

“Yes, it’s Steven, and you just spoke with Jake. Nice to meet you too dear.” He chuckled, throwing you over his shoulder and sprinting towards the stairs. He made it all the way there, slashing and punching and kicking as he went, before he had to set you on the steps to continue smashing heads.

“Sorry sugar, gotta go!” Marc plopped you on the stairs and turned to keep killing vampires.

“That’s ok third person I’m pretty sure is named Marc, I can crawl.” Marc was astounded to see you start taking the stairs on all fours, wandering towards the next vigilante that would inevitably pick you up and move you down the line. Daredevil said you were tough, but knowing and following an abstract objective while stoned wasn’t exactly what he was expecting.

“Goodbye I guess, don’t die.” Marc grumbled and nailed a vampire between the eyes with a moon dart making a wet thud as it struck home.

You, still off your ass on whatever they gave you, crawled slowly up the stairs. You flinched as bodies flew past your head and made sickening thuds on the stairs. “Oof, that had to hurt.” You muttered as one dude hit a railing hard enough to break his spine. Then, two doc martens thudded into your line of site and you looked up, very nervous. “Please don’t be a villain, please don’t be a villain, please don’t be a villain…” you slowly follow the length of the legs and are relieved to see, “Jessica Jones!”

“Hello.” She smirked, and reached down with one hand, snatching you up by the collar and setting you on your feet. “You look like hell, I know all about that.”

“Hey Jess- wow you’re strong as fuck, kinda hot!- please don’t wait no-“ she let go and your knees buckled, you started to fall and you felt a hand reach out and hold you up. You looked to see that that hand belonged to Luke Cage and his other hand was lashing out to throw a vampire over the rails of the platform you were on. “Sorry! I got drugged and I’m not so ready to use my legs yet.” You sighed flopping your head down to stare at your useless, traitorous, appendages.

“S’fine.” Luke said, shoving you away from the fray so you just flop into Jessica’s waiting arms again.

“Horn head said you were chill, but not freakin out while we all fight vampires and you’re on drugs… that’s pretty badass.” Jessica mutters, quickly shoving you back to Luke as she throws a wooden board through a man’s chest. You spark with pride at her compliment. Jessica Jones, super powered PI is impressed by your level headedness. Sick.

“Thanks Jones, your pretty cool yourself. ON YOUR SIX!” You yell and Jessica tosses you to Luke, taking out the scary vampire that almost chewed her face off.

“Thanks for looking out.” Luke grunts catching you under one arms and smoothly pushing you to sit on the wall behind him.

“No worries Mr. Cage!” You mumble. He throws the last two vampires in his way over the rails and then sits next to you to watch Jessica work.

“We’re past formalities, call me Luke.” He stretched his hand out and you just stared at it, limbs still numb. You feel like Westley after Miracle Max brought him back from being mostly dead. It was exhausting.

“God, sorry, I would? But it’s not gonna work right now.” You sigh, Luke nods and puts his hand down, staring at Jess once again. “God, you look like a love sick puppy. You good there?” You flop your head in his direction and he nods.

“Yeah, I just. You guys make it work, why can’t we?” He shakes his head and gestures at Jess and you are bamboozled. Really? Relationship troubles? You’re fighting Vampires, this is life or goddamn death here, the Dr.Phil shit can wait…. Then you think, you know what? Fuck it. You kinda get it. There’s something about an apocalypse that makes people question their lives.

“Can I be honest?” You’re not slurring every other word now, so it must be wearing off. “Matt and I work because we communicate. Now, if I understand Jessica like I think I do from Matt’s stories of her, she is like trying to talk to an errupting volcano. Explosive, hot, and rapidly cooling to immovable rock. You gotta figure out how to be volcano proof. That seems like an impossible task, believe me, I get it. Getting Matt to communicate was like trying to get a camel through the eye of a needle. Hah, bible reference, I gotta remember to tell that one to Foggy. Sorry, not helpful. All this to say, I learned that it’s not hard to pass a camel through the needle, if you make it big and obvious, and unable to over look. It works even better if there’s an oasis on the other side, if you catch my drift, but it’s not impossible, just incredibly inconvenient.” You then pat Luke’s shoulder and nod him back over to his lady love, who was kicking major ass.

Luke processed your words with a nod, honestly? The advice wasn’t bad, it was weird, but accurate. Maybe Matt’s crazy girlfriend was right. Eye of a needle? He could work with that. Then he decided to help Jess before she shoved the needle up his ass for leaving her stranded.

You continued to crawl your way through the chaos, watching the various vigilantes do their various duties around you. The next run in was with Danny Rand. You could tell he was annoying from the jump.

“Hello, can I help?” Danny reached out his glowing fist and punched a vampire through a wall (which was cool), then hoisted you to your feet. “I’m Danny Rand, The Immortal Iron Fist, defender of K’un-Lun, Master of-“ Then you shoved him out of the way of a vampire who wanted to cut his speech super short by putting him in an early grave.

You groaned, “Jesus that was close, you’re mouthy, no offense, I am too. Can I be honest? I’m on a lot of drugs, we’re in a life or death battle with magic vampires, and it’s hard to concentrate when you keep saying shit nobody understands. Learn to shut the hell up. Cool glow hand though, you seem nice. Promise I’ll be less of a bitch when we meet again.” You promptly reached your hands above your head in a grabby motion and let Peter swing you to a balcony nobody could access, you let him set you up with his backpack, which apparently had water in it, and you sat and waited for the battle to be over.

You watched the various hero’s fight, and you were honestly impressed. Now out of harms way, you could truly appreciate how fucking cool your boyfriend was. All the people around him had crazy super powers. A dude who can’t die, a kid that can climb walls, two people with super human strength, and a guy that had a magic glow stick for a fist. All those powers, and your boyfriend still chose to go kick as much ass, if not more, than they were. It was kinda hot, no, let’s be honest. It was very hot. Eventually everyone stopped fighting, Vampires dispatched, regular humans headed to jail, etc. you watched as Matt visibly began to tense again, the panic hitting when he remembered he hadn’t talked to you yet.

“I’m up here baby.” You muttered, rolling your eyes at your lack of ability to help, tapping the metal railing to give him an accurate location. Then he began scaling shelves and running towards you at top speed. “Hey, I’m drugged up, I can’t move. I’m totally numb.” You huff. “It’s ok though, it’s working it’s way out of me but I got no idea what it is.” He bundles you into his arms, and you breath him in, leather and cinnamon, your favorite.

“Oh thank god.” He grumbles burying his face in your hair as you finally manage to flop your arms around his neck. He stood and slung you onto his back, climbing down to where all the other vigilantes stood below you waiting on Matt. “Sweetheart did you meet-“

“Yup! Moonman, not a pagan, is secretly three people, can’t die.” You began pointing them out in turn, “Jess, PI, super strength, super hot. Luke, Bar owner, super strength, needs to work out his love issues. One punch man, glow hand, talks too much. Spidey, my baby, stray cat energy.” You nodded, drug induced loose lips be damned, you were proud of yourself. The vigilantes giggled at their descriptions in turn, even Danny found humor in your little rant. “Did I get em all?”

“Yeah baby, that’s everyone.” Matt laughed, kissing your head and giggling into your hair.

“She still hasn’t met Deadpool!” Danny shrugged, and Matt went rigid.

“Iron Fist, you gotta learn to keep your trap shut.” Matt mumbled.

“Oh god, them in a room would be torture.” Jess groaned.

“I don’t know, I quite like the idea. Sounds like a gas.” Steven shrugged in the Mr. knight suit.

“Sorry DD.” Danny grumbled.

“Oh, He has to meet Robin DD.” Spider-Man chuckled.

“Robin?” Jessica questions, looking at Spider-Man with one unwavering raised brow.

“We call her Robin, because the first time she met DD and figured out his identity, she told him that if she had known sooner she could have been the Robin to his Batman.” Peter grinned and looked at the still giggling couple that was attempting to patch each other’s wounds while denying they needed help, you know, like self righteous vigilantes.

“Ah,‘that’s adorable.” Steven muttered, tying up hostages and making sure their undead friends were gonna stay down this time.

“Yeah, it’s pretty sweet.” Luke nodded, helping Danny drag a mountain of a man to a corner while Jessica and Peter catalogued all of the chemical materials and evidence they could with their Cameras.

“She said I was mouthy.” Danny pouted, and all of the other hero’s in the room dissolved into laughter.

You two were lightly bickering back and fourth as they continued with cleanup and waited for their hostage to wake for interigation.

“DD, I’m fine.” you groan again as he feels at the wounds on your hand and forehead. He knows what you’re saying, but he can’t help but take in your racing heartbeat, the slight stench of fear, the terror trembling off you in waves. You put up a great front, and in the heat of the moment you’re a force to be reckoned with, but now that it’s all over, Matt can tell that leaving you alone while he does his duties to the city would be a grave mistake.

“I know! I know. I’m just-“ he fretted and you cut him off, but subtly clutch his hand tighter.

“You’re just full of nervous energy and ready to beat that guy you need answers from to a pulp. I get it. Go.” You roll your eyes fondly and stand, Matt holding out his arms to catch you as if you were a three year old just learning to walk, and you wobble immediately sinking back to the ground and leaning against the wall. The drugs haven’t fully left your system, it’s clearing up, but it’s not gone yet.

“No. Not while you’re injured, it will have to wait till Peter or Jess can take you ho-“ then his whole body tensed and his nose scrunched as if something just hit his senses with a crowbar and a man in a red and black morph suit—No shock there—with two Katanas and a gun busts into the now relatively calm warehouse.

“Alright! Who do I gotta kill. Point me in the way of Nosferatu, Daddy has some silver bullets and a deer park bottle of holy water, and I’m ready to interview with a vampire this bitch!” He stands, one katana and a bottle of water with a crudely drawn cross on it raised in presentation, at the entrance to the warehouse. When he comes in, He is the most absurd thing you’ve seen all evening, and there’s a guy with a glowing fist in the building. You all pause for a moment just staring at this absurd display of ineptitude, but Matt senses Deadpool assessing the situation, taking it all in, and Matt senses him shift his attention to you, and his muscles relax a bit and a grin stretched the terrible deformed muscle at his mouth, causing his skin to creak. Then, as Matt suspected, you are instantly thrown into fits of giggles. Your in full blown belly laughs, he can hear the way you struggle to breathe through your laughter, senses your abdominal muscles contracting, he can smell the salt of your tears as they run down your face, and for a moment he forgives the lunacy of Wade Wilson, and appreciates just how wonderful it is to hear the sweet sound of your laughter. He is thankful for the subtle loss of tension in your shoulders that Wade has so easily caused, just by being him. Then he smells old enchiladas, stale blood, and gunpowder and is reminded all over again why it is he avoids Deadpool at all costs. He’s an assault on the senses, and he’s a dumbass. If that weren’t reason enough, the man is hardly ever on the right side of the law, or decency, and to top it all off, he’s really fucking annoying. However, in this moment, Wade is sending clear signals that he is ready and willing to be his ally. Maybe Matt would need to rethink his stance on the Mirk with a Mouth.

“Fuck me, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while, and I just met a guy whose superpower is that he punches real good with just one fist.” You giggle into Matt’s ear and he can’t help but chuckle a bit as well, using this as an excuse to bury his nose in your hair, attempting to cover up the stench of Deadpool’s disgusting suit. “Who the hell are you, and how do we become friends? Also, they fuck the vampires in interview with a vampire, they don’t kill them. You’re thinking of Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter.” You laugh brightly and thrust you’d hand out to be shaken. Matt resists the urge to smack that hand away from the bacteria infested glove, but is genuinely thrilled to hear the rustle of a glove being pulled from a hand as Deadpool receives your handshake.

“Well that’s easy pretty lady, you don’t fuck with me and I, won’t fuck with you. So are you the crazy bitch who tased Frank Castle or is DD here in for a few million Hail Marys?” Matt is baffled. Honestly, he is. Deadpool came in ready for a fight, and in a need for ardent chaos, and he was actually startled at how collected and calm he was in bantering back and forth with you. Totally at his ease in the steady, witty banter. It’s like you had stopped him in his tracks. Matt kept a close ear on your conversation as he began to help the rest of the group.

“So does he wear the horns when you do the deed, or do they only come out for birthdays and anniversaries?” Deadpool sits cross legged beside you, which is when Wade silently shoos him away. Why should he deal with all the boring stuff when there was a beautiful and interesting woman he could be talking to.

“Oh Mr.Pool, a lady never sucks and tells, but that Mask is pretty hot. The suit does nothing for his ass though.” You scrunch your nose and shake your head, and Wade snorts a laugh while Matt walks away to go deal with the rest of the group.

“He got a nice ass under all that pleather?” Wade huffs.

“Like you wouldn’t BELIEVE man. He’s honestly the sexiest man I know.” Matt shakes his head at your ardent praise with a big silly grin, and Jess bumps her shoulder with his with a breathy chuckle, handing him an unknown chemical for him to identify.

“Well, you’re in the company of absolute beauty now, you wouldn’t even believe how hot I am under here.” Matt can hear Spider-Man chuckling now and shaking his head, and he hears Moonknight mumble about what a lie that was.

“Oh really? Well, secret identities be damned, let’s get a peek at that face huh?” You laugh, and Matt hears the rustling of Fabric as Wade pulls off his mask. He can hear Danny hiss and feel Luke cringe as Wade’s face is revealed. He notes with pride that you never flinch.

“Oh god, Ha! You look like an Orc’s terrible premature love child with the corpse of Ryan Reynolds.” You laugh for a second, then stop when you realize Wade is staring at you slack jawed. “Oh! I’m sorry was that rud-“ you begin to fret, but Wade cyst you off with a boisterous laugh of his own.

“That is the funniest shit I’ve heard all day.”

You and Wade kept up the conversation, while the others began to clean up and categorize evidence. When it came to Vampires and the supernatural, the police were no help so the whole of Justice squarely rests on those who had the power to handle it. They were all biding their time and waiting on their hostage, they had officially gotten everything squared away, Spider-Man had called SHEILD to dispose of the Vampires, and now they sat in comfortable conversation, waiting for backup. When Matt began to hear their hostage stir, he alerted the others, and then they Started bickering over who should do what. It was getting pretty heated until you spoke with a finality that meant business.

“No! Webs can take me home, Moonknight and DD can handle the interrogation, Deadpool and Iron Fist can wipe out any stragglers (because I’m pretty sure some of them are playing dead.), Jess and Luke can handle shield, and then the spiderling can swing back here to help you finish the mission.” Your instructions were met with whining and protest (except for Matt, who knew better than to argue when you meant business), but you weren’t having it. “Oh! I’m fucking sorry, did I ask for all the whining? Or are you all a big group of superpower wielding toddlers!?” You snapped and everyone looked either impressed or properly chastened.

“No you’re right.”

“I guess we can-”

“I’ll get to use my holy water after all!” Came the murmur of replies.

“Good, now hop to it. Take me home spider boy!” You reach your arms out to Peter and he swings you up and out of the building leaving the rest of the hero’s to their own devices. About forty five minutes later, Peter comes back as they plan out what to do about the rest of the vampire problem, and what next steps need to be taken to solve it. All in all, it takes about two hours for Matt to make his way back to you, and when he does, you’re fast asleep. The shield agents reassured him that you just needed to sleep off whatever they gave you, and his other vigilante associates all complimented him on having an amazing girlfriend. His chest was swelling with Pride over how well you took things, and how much they admired you. You truly were an amazing woman.

You were sleeping so peacefully, Matt almost elected to take the couch so he wouldn’t risk waking you. He changed, and decided you would be more mad if he didn’t come to bed. He slips in next to you and preens when you wrap an arm around his waist and sling a leg over his hips. He nuzzles into your hair and cuddles you close, grinning at how wonderful you are to be lying there next to him. “Hi Angel, you ok?”

“Yeah Matty, ‘m fine. Just sleepy s’all.” You yawn so hard your eyes water, and Matt ‘awes’ placing a soft kiss to your crown.

“Well I’d say so, it’s not easy being Robin.” He huffs a laugh and you kiss him just below his collar bone.

“Oh yeah, I’m tough shit, might just graduate to Nightwing.” You mumble.

“Sure, sweetheart, whatever you want.” Then you mumble something into his chest he doesn’t quite catch, and he asks you to repeat yourself.

“Nah, I’ll stay Robin, I could never ditch my Batman, I love him too much.” Matt’s heart swells to bursting and he almost tears up at the weirdly sweet sentiment.

“I love you too Robin, I love you too.”

#jake lockley #moon knight #daredevil #moonknight #daredevil x you #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil imagines #marvel's daredevil #netflix daredevil #daredevil x reader

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sgt-morgan · 2 months

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I got create 🖤🖤🖤

here's a random word generator--whatever word it gives you is now the thing you are the deity of

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sgt-morgan · 2 months

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The Fantastic 4 (2025)

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sgt-morgan · 2 months

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Poe Dameron and Boba Fett having a casual little chat 🥹

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sgt-morgan · 3 months

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AHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAA

softness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. established relationship. (TW) PREGNANCY. mentions of premature birth, minor descriptions of childbirth, mentions of birth weight, it is implied that reader is breastfeeding her baby, semi accurate medical journal research, girldad! Joel, mentions of scars (Joel), mentions of insecurities and anxieties, if i missed anything, please let me know! NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER. no physical description of child except for her hair color/type. very minimal editing.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: i had this outline sitting in my drafts and i decided to finally just write it out and post it. it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. it is part of the safe and sound universe.

She’d made her entrance into the world early.

About four or five weeks, the commune’s doctor thinks.

Without ultrasounds, it’d been a guessing game.

And a fucking terrifying guessing game at that.

For several months, all you could do was hope.

Hope for a smooth pregnancy.

Hope for a safe labor and delivery.

Hope for a strong, healthy baby.

When you went into labor earlier than the doctor had predicted you would, all of your hopes shattered, the pieces falling around you like shards of broken glass you couldn’t put back together even if you tried.

“No! No, it’s too soon! It’s too fucking soon!” you’d cried out, the sheer panic setting in and seeping into your bones as a warm, clear liquid dripped down the insides of your legs and pooled around your bare feet. You had been in the kitchen making Ellie breakfast and packing her lunch for school—one second you’re standing there in front of the food pantry debating with yourself on what vegetable to throw into the kid’s lunch bag with her sandwich and the next you’re calling out for help as an intense pressure nestled itself between your hips. It wasn’t until you heard a faint popping sound and then felt the gush of fluid between your thighs that you’d realized what was happening. An unmistakable first sign of labor, you’d experienced your water breaking. “This can’t be happening, it’s not time yet!”

Joel, who by some stroke of sheer stupid luck had the morning off from patrol duty, instructed Ellie to run upstairs and gather some clean clothes along with a pair of boots and the warmest coat you owned that still fit. November had brought along the first snowfall of the season—the frigid temperatures outside were anything but kind and the clinic was on the opposite side of the commune, a fifteen minute walk he wished you didn’t have to make in your condition. “I know this is real fuckin’ scary darlin’ but y’need to stay calm. I need you to stay as calm as possible. Y’think that you can do that for me, sweetheart?”

He’d been just as terrified, but he masked it well.

On the outside, he kept a calm, collected composure for your sake and for Ellie’s too, shoved aside his own fears so he could be the support you both needed, act as the glue that held yours and his little family unit together should anything were to happen. But on the inside, he was scared shitless, to say the least. He couldn’t be certain he would have the strength to hold himself together if something went wrong, if he lost you—or his unborn child.

Admittedly, it had taken him a few months to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again at this stage in his life. The thought of him changing diapers at his age was one he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around—but the moment he felt that first little flutter of movement one night as you lay curled up against his side fast asleep, something shifted. That night, he had stayed wide awake, his large hand splayed over your bare belly in hopes he would feel that little flutter again.

“Joel, I’m really fucking scared. What if it’s too early—”

“Baby, look at me.” He reached up and gently took your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he coaxed your gaze to meet his own. “S’gonna be okay,” he’d assured you, softly. “If this is happenin’ now, it’s because she’s ready, alright?”

For a split second, that panic had ceased.

“She?”

Confused, Joel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“You just referred to the baby as a she, Joel.”

“I did?”

“Yeah—just now.” You’d stared at him with curiosity and took a step back, cradling your belly in both of your hands. “Do you think we’re having a girl?”

Sheepishly, he had shaken his head at you.

“No, I just—m’sorry. I ain’t all too sure why I said that.”

He truly, honestly hadn’t.

It’d slipped before he could even think about it.

But his accidental slip had been right.

After thirteen hours of grueling labor in Jackson’s small clinic, you’d given birth to a little girl, the sound of her loud wailing filling the whole room like a sweet melody eliciting a sob of joy from you and a shaky sigh of relief from Joel.

“Holy shit, she’s here! She’s actually fucking here,” Ellie breathed, her eyes going wide. Her arms were still wrapped around one of your legs—despite you warning the teenager about what she would see, it hadn’t stopped her from volunteering her assistance in the childbirth process. She watched on in a mix of both fascination and disgust as Dr. Porter, a woman in her sixties who served as Jackson’s sole physician, lifted the infant and immediately placed her onto your bare chest to clean her off. “This has gotta be the grossest, most amazing fucking thing I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Gently, she set your leg down onto the bed before walking around it to stand beside Joel. His hand was stroking your hair, his dark eyes trained on his crying newborn daughter. It was the perfect moment for Ellie to run her mouth and tease, “You’re not gonna cry, are you, Joel? I’d think you’re a lot fucking tougher than that, old man.”

“Shut up,” he’d muttered under his breath, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. He almost couldn’t believe this was now his life—a life he would have never even known if he hadn’t flinched twenty years ago when he had pulled the trigger.

Though she’d been born a few weeks prematurely, Rosemary Miller was deemed to be healthy—a tad underweight, but nothing to be worried about just yet, according to Jackie, the commune’s nurse. At about four pounds, eleven ounces, Rosemary was the tiniest thing you’d ever seen and somehow even tinier when Joel would cradle her in the palms of his large hands. Despite the fact that you’d been reassured that the baby’s low birth weight was nothing to be alarmed about, you and Joel had been advised it was best if you didn’t take her home until she gained a few more ounces and tipped the a scale at what the books state is a normal birth weight of five pounds, eight ounces.

“We just would feel better if she were here at the clinic where we can closely monitor her weight,” Jackie had said upon seeing the crestfallen look on your face. “Besides, you tore a little and you need time to heal as well, you know.”

Left with very little choice, you’d agreed to it.

“I’m losing it,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the drab, gray ceiling. It’s been three days since you had given birth and all you want to do is take your daughter home. In an effort to lift your spirits, Maria had tried to warm the place up and make it feel more comfortable for you. She had swapped out the rough, scratchy bedsheet the clinic provided for you with a soft, knitted blanket she had made herself. She also took it upon herself to pack you a bag with your own clothes, a couple of books to read, and your favorite polaroids of Joel and Ellie. While it had been incredibly sweet of her to do for you, you still wanted out of that clinic sooner rather than later. “I miss our house. I miss our bed. I miss our kid.”

Joel, who’s sitting in an old, worn leather armchair tucked over in a corner of your room next to the frosted window, raises an eyebrow at you and then juts his chin towards Rosemary, who is swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the plastic bassinet beside your bed.

“Our kid’s right there, darlin’.”

You lift your head off your pillow and glare at him.

“I’m talking about Ellie, Joel.”

He chuckles and leans forward in his chair. Next to him sits a brown stuffed bunny rabbit—Ellie had traded a precious comic book for it and gifted it to the baby the same afternoon she was born.

“She’s been comin’ to visit every day after school.”

“It’s not the same,” you pout, shaking your head.

Joel sighs and glances at the cot that he had been sleeping on for the last few days—truth be told, he misses the house too. His back certainly misses the bed. “It ain’t the same,” he agrees, tiredly. His face is worn with exhaustion. Despite you insisting that he go home and get some proper rest, he’s too stubborn to listen and only leaves the clinic to take a shower and change his clothes—and to check on Ellie, who’s got a bad habit of not doing her homework unless you or Joel nag her to get it done. “M’real sorry, darlin’. But you heard what they said. Baby’s gotta gain a little more weight before we can take her home.”

Even from where he’s sitting, he can see your eyes glaze over with tears of frustration. Since the baby was born, you’ve been very sensitive, more so than when you’d been pregnant—something he didn’t think was even possible.

“If she keeps on eatin’ the way she’s eatin’ we’ll be home by the end of the week,” Joel adds in an effort to cheer you up. “Besides, you need to heal before we make that long walk across town and back to the house, sweetheart. S’not like I can just pull up the fuckin’ minivan and drive you girls home like back in the day, y’know?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew, Joel. We would not have a fucking minivan.” Dabbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, you can’t help but laugh at the thought of Joel Miller behind the wheel of one of those things. Then, you realize how endearing it would be to watch as he’s loading up Rosemary’s car seat into the van, the muscles of his broad back flexing underneath his shirt as he pulled on the straps to make sure it was safe and secure. You’d climb into the backseat with her and on the way home, you would ask Joel to swing through the nearest burger joint drive through because you’re fucking starving and in need of a proper meal after being subjected to boring, bland hospital food. You shoot him a small smile. “On second thought, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Maybe we would.”

Suddenly, there’s a light knock at the door.

“Come in,” you call, careful not to be too loud.

Dr. Porter walks into the room.

She had been a primary care physician prior to the world ending, according to Maria, who a couple of months ago had given birth to her son while under Dr. Porter’s care. Maria had assured you that, even though the woman never trained in obstetrics, she always went above and beyond for all the mothers to be in the commune. She dedicated her spare time to studying, lost herself in medical books she found on the shelves of the town’s library—kind of like the one that’s currently tucked underneath her arm.

“Hi there mama,” she greets, her eyes shining brightly behind her coke-bottle glasses. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she doesn’t quite look the part—maybe she’d worn a white coat once in her life, but now it was only the old, silver metal stethoscope she had draped around her neck that gave her profession away. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“I’m okay,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t complain.”

Over in his corner, Joel can’t help but snort.

Ignoring him, you add, “Bleeding’s slowing down.”

“Good, that’s good,” Dr. Porter tells you. “And how about this sweet little girl?” She smiles and makes her way over to the bassinet, keeping her voice low. “She eating well?”

“She is. Her last feed was about two hours ago.”

“How’s she sleeping?”

“Like a rock.”

“And you’ve been doing skin to skin as well?”

You nod. “Yes, before and after her feedings.”

“That’s perfect.” Dr. Porter beams at you with pride. “Keep it up and do it as often as possible. There are a ton of benefits of doing skin to skin with her. It’s one of the most incredible things that a mother can do for her baby. Actually—” She pauses for a moment and pulls the book out from under her arm. “I have been doing a bit of research and as it turns out, there are also benefits if dad does skin to skin with baby as well.”

Joel stiffens slightly in his chair. “S’cuse me?”

“I found this book in the library. It talks about all of the benefits of fathers doing skin to skin with their newborn. It was written some time in the nineties and studies were still being conducted, but I really believe they were onto something.” She hands you the book. “For being preterm, Rosemary’s healthy, but it doesn’t do any harm to try whatever you can to make sure that she builds up that immune system and stays healthy, especially now that winter’s here.” Flashing you a smile, she informs you, “I went ahead and folded the pages for you and made some notes. There’s a few benefits in it for Joel as well. Could be worth a try.”

After telling you she’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you and to weigh the baby, Dr. Porter excuses herself from your room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Curiously, you open the book to the first page that she’d folded for you and start reading the first passage out loud.

“Ongoing studies have found skin to skin between father and child have similar benefits to those that come from skin to skin between mother and child. It regulates the baby's body temperature, blood sugar, and stress levels.” You pause and look over at Joel, who appears thoroughly unimpressed. “It also helps to regulate the baby’s heart rate and breathing rate. Joel, this is incredible! I think you should—”

“No.”

Joel winces. He doesn’t mean to sound so curt.

Your face falls. “Why not?”

“That’s for mothers,” he grumbles. “Y’know, for feedin’ the baby.”

“It’s for much more than just that.” You shake your head and flip over to the next page, scanning both the text as well as Dr. Porter’s notes. “It says here that it also helps the baby pick up their father’s natural scent and promotes bonding.”

“Sweetheart, I can bond with her just fine with my fuckin’ shirt on, there ain’t no need for me to—what in the world are you doin’?” Perturbed, Joel watches you as you take a handful of your blanket, throwing it off yourself. He jumps up to his feet the second he realizes that you’re about to get out of bed. “Don’t—”

“Oh relax, Joel. I should be moving more anyway,” you say, wincing as you sit up and swing both legs over the side of the bed. It isn’t so much pain as it is discomfort—everything had been shoved up and out of place for months, after all. As soon as you stand, Joel’s there at your side, one hand on your arm and the other on your back, trying to guide you back onto the bed. You lightly swat him away with your hand. “Joel, stop fussing over me! I’m fine!”

“Baby, y’need to lie down right now—”

“Take off your shirt.”

His hands fall away from you and his eyes widen.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt and go sit down in the chair.”

The blood drains from his face and he pales.

It’s not that Joel doesn’t want to do it. He does.

He’ll do anything if it’s for his daughter’s benefit.

Still.

The idea of laying his innocent little baby girl on him without his shirt on—it’s uncomfortable. His chest and stomach are littered with several scars. Rough, raised patches of skin that serve as reminders of a brutal past he doesn’t want her finding out about, not for as long as he can fucking help it.

Rosemary deserves to be wrapped up in softness.

The softness of your smooth, blemish free skin.

The softness of the blankets you’d knitted for her.

The softness of the stuffed bunny Ellie had given her.

Joel?

He isn’t soft.

Nothing about him is soft.

Even holding her in his hands for the first time had been something of a battle. Hands that once snapped necks and slit throats didn’t deserve to hold something so pure and innocent.

“This sounds really promising, Joel.” Slowly, you make your way over to the plastic bassinet, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs. With your back to him, you carefully begin to unswaddle the baby. You try not to wake her as you peel off her warm, knitted onesie and matching socks, leaving her in nothing but her teeny, tiny cloth diaper. Gingerly, you pick her up and turn around to face him. “If Dr. Porter thinks we should try it, then it’s for a good reason, don’t you think so?”

Joel swallows harshly.

“What is it?”

“S’just that I—I’ve got scars everywhere, y’know?”

Your expression instantly softens for him. “Joel, you’re her daddy,” you remind him, gently. “She’s not going to care about things like that.” Pausing, it suddenly occurs to you that it’s not just about his scars. It’s about something else, something that runs so much deeper for Joel. He’d done what he had done in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live with the shame—the guilt and the regret. Rosemary begins to fuss awake and you lightly bounce her in your arms as you assure him, “She isn’t going to care about your past or what you’ve done. Her love for you is going to be as unconditional as yours is for her. She’s going to love you no matter what, Joel. I can promise you that.”

His jaw clenches and his lips press into a tight line.

Rosemary starts to cry—she’s cold, no doubt.

The old heater in the clinic hardly runs.

And when it does, it breaks down.

“Joel, please,” you beg over her wails. “Just try it? For me? For her?”

Sighing in defeat, Joel shrugs out of his jacket and he tosses it aside. With trembling fingers, he begins to unbutton his green flannel shirt—his long sleeved thermal henley comes off next and then he takes off the cotton t-shirt he wears underneath for an added layer of warmth during the winter season. As he stands there shirtless, he shivers and his flesh erupts with goosebumps. “Wait,” he mutters as he watches you take a step forward. He drags the armchair away from the window. He then sits down, his heart racing and the anxiety flaring as he gives you a subtle nod of his head. “Okay.”

You walk over to him and place her on his bare chest.

The second he feels Rosie’s soft skin on his, there’s a shift.

It’s similar to the one he felt when he first felt her move in your belly.

He calms and his heart slows—his nerves dissipate.

And Rosemary stops crying.

She scrunches, curls up on his chest, and yawns.

Grimacing, you lean over and pick up his flannel shirt. “Here,” you say, draping it over them as a makeshift blanket. “How’s that feel?”

“Think she likes it, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his fingers delicately brushing over her soft tufts of dark brown hair. His touch causes the newborn’s lip to curl and he catches a glimpse of the prominent dimple in her left cheek—the same dimple Sarah had inherited from him, Rosemary had inherited too. There’s a dull ache in his chest, but somehow, he still smiles as she peers up at him with sleepy eyes. “Hi, Rosie Posie. S’me, babygirl. Your daddy.”

Rolling your lip between your teeth, you stifle a giggle.

“What?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at you.

“She’s not the only one who seems to like it.”

Joel chuckles, admitting, “S’pretty relaxin’.” He presses his nose into his daughter’s curls and inhales deeply, relishing in the warm, sweet milky scent of her. After a minute, his smile falters slightly. “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really believe it?”

Your brow furrows. “Believe what?”

“That she’s gonna love me no matter what.”

“Of course I do.”

“How can you be so sure ‘bout it?”

Carefully, you perch yourself on the arm of the chair and press a gentle kiss against his right temple, your lips brushing over his scar. “Because I just am, Joel.”

Somehow, he believes it—he believes you.

Joel tilts his head back, puckering his lips.

Grinning, you give him a chaste kiss before standing. “I’m going to see if I can get a nap in before her next feed,” you tell him, padding back over to the bed. “Do you think you’ll be okay with her for a while, just the two of you?”

“I think we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs, gingerly stroking Rosemary’s silky cheek with his finger. “Yeah. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, babygirl?”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller drabble #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic

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sgt-morgan · 3 months

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Hallelujah!

pretends like I haven't been gone for 1000 years

GUESS WHAT BESTIES, YOU'RE GETTING A NEW BOBA FIC ON FRIDAY ‼️‼️

And I hope you're ready for 9k words of smut about the old man once again 🤭

taglist 💖

@agirlnamejacq @burningfieldof-clover @marierg @dukeoftheblackstar @imarvelatthestars @saradika @baufraus @historianwithaheart @andrakass2 @samspenandsword @liadamerondjarin @sleepingsun501 @sgt-morgan @rescuethewretched @rexxdjarin @ladytano420 @writingwintermoon @pheo-nixpas-calian @acatalystrising @erinthevampire @xxladysquishyxx @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @kimiheartblade @shinyshayminflower @wings-and-beskar @thirsty-boba-fett-posts @wolffegirlsunite @echocola @100lxtters

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sgt-morgan · 4 months

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BOY HOWDY, MATTY IN THE FIRST EPISODE!? We eating goooooooooOOOOOOD!

#daredevil

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sgt-morgan · 4 months

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Congratulations to PEDRO PASCAL on his Golden Globe Nomination for Best Performance by a Male Actor in a Television Series - Drama on The Last of Us.

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sgt-morgan · 4 months

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Still my favorite

Chapter 4: Rest

Part four of the Rough Day Series.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4K

A/N: I’m a thirsty fuckin bitch and wrote more oral sex fem receiving and I am so sorry to that anon who really wants to blow Mando but it’ll happen soon ipromise

Warnings: SMUT, language, oral sex fem receiving, consensual somnophilia holy fuck where did that come from (finals and wanting to fuck Mando/sleep equally)

Mando doesn’t come back to the ship.

Keep reading

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sgt-morgan · 4 months

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Christmas reblog!

Jingle Bells 🎄

Summary: a very DD Christmas. Robin and Matt enjoy their family.

Warnings: AFAB and Female identifying reader. Catholic iconography. Other than that? A wholesome ass Christmas fic.

A/N: Merry Chrysler! Happy Hondadays! Here’s some fluff or whatever.

Daredevil Masterlist

Robin is sure of very little, but she is sure of this. If there was ever a time of year that she could describe as Matt’s favorite, it was Christmas. Now one would think that Christmas might not be such a merry time for a blind man with no parents. Talks of Family and ice everywhere really weren’t his favorite things. However, there was something so deeply satisfying and nostalgic in the Christmas season he couldn’t bring himself to hate. The smell of cinnamon, the sound of carols, people doing good things for no reason. It was magical and totally pure. So when you had a baby, oh boy were you so sure his love of Christmas would increase tenfold, and you were absolutely correct.

When Jackie was very little, it didn’t fully get to be the Christmas he was building to. Echoes of it were there, the ornament he bought every year, her tiny hand print embedded in it with the year written in braille so you could both look back at how little she was and how she had grown. There was midnight mass, reading the night before Christmas, and setting out cookies and milk for Santa, he was just biding his time till she was able to fully appreciate and participate in all Christmas had to offer, and now that she was four? Well, go time had commenced.

December first, the elf arrived. A jovial little letter, clearly typed by foggy, proclaiming that this was her Elf Sparkles. Sparkles had come for December to report back to Santa about her behavior, and boy was she an exciting little elf. Sparkles started simple, stealing her toys to read a book, making a super long straw to share her hot chocolate, making snow angels out of flour. It delighted Jackie every morning to see where the little elf had run off too and what mess she created, and you loved it a bit as well, Matt never telling you where the little guy was gonna end up. Then it got more complex, the most complex of the pranks coming on the 22nd of December, when you woke to a Polaroid of Spider man and Daredevil Gift wrapping YOUR APARTMENT with SPARKLES. Your house looked as if Santa’s bag barfed all over your home. Lampshades, shelves, the fridge, your favorite mug. Nothing was spared from Sparkles’ wrapping rampage.

“Mathew, the kitchen cabinets!” You chuckled, your whole kitchen was decorated in avengers and Spiderman themed wrapping paper, every cabinet covered by the festive paper. Your daughter was thrilled, laughing hysterically at the colorful paper strewn about the house.

“Naughty elf! Naughty spidey!” She giggled, petting affectionately at the cabinets, and opening them in delight to find that even her granola bars had been gift wrapped.

Matt grinned in absolute joy. So happy it was causing his girls so much mirth. This was what he wanted, he wanted a family to make these memories with, something fun and exciting and screaming of holiday joy. He always wanted these moments for himself, and now he gets to have them with his baby girl and his crazy wife.

No matter what holiday though, Robin is still Robin. (And by that we mean a menace.) Matt came home from work one day to a lot more giggling than usual, and at Christmas, this almost always meant shenanigans from his two most lovely of girls.

“Uh oh, it sounds too silly in here.” He smile, taking off his coat and resting his cane and briefcase by the door.

“No Dada, we’re not too silly, we’re just silly enough.” Your little girl giggled and his heart swelled.

“Just silly enough? What does that mean?” He laughed, scooping up the giggling girl and making his way to scoop you up from where you were rested against the arm of your couch.

“Why nothing Batdad, we were just singing a Christmas song!” You grinned and Matt rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah? And what song was that Robin?” He replies giving you a quick peck on the lips as you turned your attention to his tiny baby clone who was squirming in anticipation like a balloon about to bust.

“I’ll sing it!” She squealed, wrapping her arms around Matt’s Neck as if her excitement needed to be expressed in violent affection.

“Take it away bat baby!” You laughed and then your tiny daughter, love of Matt’s life, proceeded to bust his ear drums.

“DASHING THROUGH THE SNOOOOW IN A ONE HORSE OPEN SLEEEEEIGH JOKER’S ON THE GOOOO LAUGHING ALL THE WAAAAY! BELLS ON PENGUINS RING MAKE RIDDLER WANNA FIIIIGHT TWO FACE FLIPS A COIN AND SINGS THIS SONG TONIGHT! OHHHHH! JINGLE BELLS! BATMAN SMELLS! ROBIN LAYED AN EGG! BATMOBILE LOST A WHEEL AND THE JOKER DID BALLEEEEEEEEET!” When she had finished you cheered and clapped, cackling at the shocked look on Matt’s face with a grin. Matt smiled through bleeding eardrums and clapped as well, cradling his little family in his arms and then promptly releasing his little girl when she was ready to run off again.

“Batman smells? Really Robin?” Matt shook his head. “My ears are still ringing.” You laughed at that, your daughter was certainly no musical ingénue, she was more like a musical jet engine.

“I like the ballet bit. Never heard that one before!” You laughed throwing your arms around Matt’s neck and smacking a kiss on his cheek as you turned to watch your four year old traipse around the house in a tutu and mismatched Christmas socks. The picture of childish dishevelment.

“She certainly takes after her mother in the creativity department.” Matt laughed, wrapping you up in his arms. “I hope you sent a video to Foggy, he’s been dying for new material to show off his Goddaughter.” Matt mumbled into your hair while listening to the little thumps of his daughters tiny feet as she ran about the apartment. Her childish scent was tinged with sweat, and he could feel the radiating heat of her flushed skin as she continued to dance and sing about the house. He grinned, she would sleep easy to tonight, visions of sugarplums dancing in her head. That’s good, because tomorrow would be a late night.

Christmas Eve always starts with cookie decorating with the Godparents. Karen and Foggy (and by extension a now very pregnant Marcy and a very testy Frank Castle.) pile into your home shaking off snow, and baring various Christmas gifts and well wishes. Karen and Marcy help you bake off cookies, and the boys all supervise getting your very festive Chinese takeout. Once the cookies are cooled and bellies are full of lo mein and sweet and sour chicken, the decorating can begin.

“I hear a lot of giggling over in that corner, Robin? Foggy? Care to share with the class?” Karen giggles, helping Jackie eat a chocolate button that was never going to make it on that poorly decorated Snowman cookie to be honest.

“Why Karen, I’m just uh-“ you start with a grin and Matt cuts you off instantly.

“That’s a lie. No use continuing.” He giggles, and you stick your younger out, knowing damn well that his stupid bat sonar or whatever would tell him you’d done it.

“Fine, I was flexing my artistic muscle with Fogward here, and I made a little Snow Devil.” You held up a crudely decorated snowman, donned in red, with two red Christmas bulb shaped sprinkles for horns, and everyone laughs. It looked like somebody murdered an alien, the red icing sliding off the cookie in gloopy dollops of sugar. “Hey! Don’t laugh! I worked really hard on him.” You pout.

“Oh god,” Foggy wheezes, clutching Franks shaking shoulders. “It looks like a muppet!” That sends everyone into another fit of laughter, and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t pout Robin it’s- cute?” Karen squeaks and you sink into your chair a bit further.

“Awe,” Matt chuckles, stroking your hair and placing a kiss to your head. “Don’t worry baby, I think it looks great.” He smiled, your daughter nods, and let’s your hair affectionately, and you sat up a bit straighter, setting back to work until you realized-

“WAIT! MATT YOU ASSHOLE! YOU’RE BLI-“ he cute you off with a kiss and you huff, going back to decorating cookies. He better be glad he’s cute.

After the cookies, Jackie opens presents from her Godparents and one from Mommy and Daddy. Your present normally being a stuffed animal and matching Christmas Jammies.

“Of course!” Karen cackles as Jackie opens what has to be the pjs.

“Oh they’re awesome! I want a pair!” Foggy laughs, grabbing Matt’s pj gift and tossing them at him.

“Oh Red, these are just top notch.” Frank laughs when Matt unwraps his set.

“What are they?” Matt laughs. The material is soft, it’ll be perfectly warm and comfortable, so that at least is nice. He knew they had to look ridiculous though, the others were laughing too hard.

“Holy Mistletoe Batman! You’re on PJ’s!” You laugh. Yes, you had bought your family Batman themed pajamas. The pajamas had Batman putting the Star on top of the tree, while all the Robins supervised. The arms and pants were all in black and red buffalo plaid. Matt groaned when Foggy finally caught his breath and described them. these had to be a joke. “Suck it up Batman! It was either this or Spiderman, there were no Daredevil options because it’s a holy day, and nobody is wearing devil themed Santa jammies. Be glad I was merciful.”

Once all the gifts were opened, Jackie was put down for a nap and the adults watched a Christmas movie, and drank until they had to split ways for their own various Christmas duties. Then they woke Jackie and got ready to leave.

Midnight Mass was a must in the Murdock household. Now, Robin holds no qualm with Jesus, whatever her beliefs on faith, she goes to Mass for Matt, and she goes because Maggie only seldomly gets to see her one and only Granddaughter, and Christmas Mass is one of her favorites.

So your little family, at 10pm, piles into a pew, Matt dressed respectably in a suit and tie, and you and little Robin in your matching Batman holiday pjs. (Because Crime doesn’t take time off for the holidays Mathew, and if she’s just gonna sleep through the back half. There is no reason she shouldn’t be in PJs. Besides, Maggie thinks they’re cute, and I wanted her to see them ok?) Matt sits there, helping a droopy eyed Jackie hold a candle, and he thinks about how different his life is now and he’s just… grateful. In years past Matt was sat here alone, clutching his cane and lighting candles and singing o come o come Emanuel begging not just for the coming of Christ, but for a coming of… something more than this. Something to break up the pity from the family behind him wondering what he would be doing alone on Christmas, from the bitter cold of an empty apartment, an empty bed. And now he had it, and as little Jackie fell asleep on his shoulder while they sang Abide with Me, his gratitude was renewed and he clutched his family just that much tighter as the choir sang.

“When other helpers fail, and comforts flee. Help of Helpless O abide with me.”

The next Morning, Matt is up before the rest of his little family. His energy is high, and he has the biggest smile on his face. Soon, his living room would be loud noise and new toys, but for now he was enjoying the greatest gift of all. His Family, safe and content, sleeping soundly in his home. He makes a cup of coffee for each of you, and starts the cinnamon rolls you insist are a Christmas necessity. Once they’re in, he goes to your shared bedroom perches himself on his side of the bed, and presses a kiss to your head.

“Merry Christmas.” He mumbled into your bed head, stroking a soothing hand down your spine. You groan and stretch, shuffling your head into his lap.

“Good morning Devil man, Merry Christmas.” You sigh, basking in the warmth of your always hot husband. “I’m starting the countdown DD, we gonna have a Christmas crazed kiddo here any minute now. 3-2-“

“Mommy! Daddy! SANTA!” A squealing ball of energy crashed onto your bed, and Matt had just enough time to save the coffee.

“Man, you sure you don’t have super senses?” He grumbled gathering his little girl to his chest while she squealed and tried to break free of him.

“No, but she always wakes up about thirty minutes after you do. Like clockwork.” You grumble, “Alright! Time to open up gifts! RAH!” You roar, springing up from bed and snatching a still giggling Jackie from her father whose expression told you that right now, even if you had killed a man, he would still believe you had hung the moon.

The next hour is a flurry of wrapping paper, coffee, cinnamon rolls, and batteries. Matt wouldn’t have it any other way. Each new gift ramped Jackie up further, and he loved every minute of her pure and childish excitement that made her so wonderful. Her heartbeat was steady and strong, each exciting new thing would send it racing. She was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Dad! Look! I got a Malibu Barbie! I never even wrote that down! I didn’t tell you or mommy!? How did Santa know!?” She squealed, launching herself at Matt so he could open it.

“I don’t know baby! Santa is just magical!” He smirked and you rolled your eyes, knowing damn well he used his freaky super senses picking her up from daycare to overhear her talking to her friend about wanting one on the playground.

Next we’re your gifts, and Matt was so excited to hear you open yours he could hardly sit still.

“Jeez Bman, you look like you’re ready to take a bite out of crime. Cool it!” You giggled, kissing Matt softly on the nose and cupping his face lovingly.

“Go on Robin! Open it!” He groaned, thrusting your gift into your hands ceremoniously.

You chuckle, and open the box to find a beautiful charm bracelet. The charms being, a boxing glove, a wine bottle, a baby bottle, a peach, a coffee cup, a gavel, and a tiny Batman symbol. You tear up at the eclectic little mix of Charms, and chuckle at the wonderful memories the bring. It’s so sweet, every little thing was so thoughtful even your stupid inside jokes had made the cut. It made you love your husband even more.

“Oh Matt,” you sigh, throwing your arms around him. He buries his face in your shoulder with no hesitation, enjoying the sensation of your love and joy at his little gift. “You even got a charm that matches that peachy ass of yours.” He can feel your shit eating grin from a mile away, and he scoffs, ruffling your hair and pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“Merry Christmas Robin, yah filthy animal.”

Soon, all the gifts were opened. All the paper scattered around the house, the sugar rush had ended, and now on a calm white Christmas morning, Matt was sitting on the couch, with Jackie curled up in his lap where her little sugar crashed body was sleeping soundly. You were sat on the ground, putting batteries in a toy and sipping on egg nog, and he was the most content he’d ever been in his life.

“Oh! Matt! I almost forgot!” You gasped suddenly springing up from your spot on the floor and rushing into your room to grab something. “One last little gift babe!”

Matt beamed and accepted the gift with a grin, kissing you softly in thanks. You loved when he was like this, all soft and sentimental, he was like a big giant Daredevil shaped teddy bear. You bit your nails as he opened the gift, carefully feeling at the edges, his still tired brain and senses not picking up on what he was holding at first. Then he froze, ah, there it is.

“Merry Christmas Batman, you’re gonna be a dad again.”

Tags: @pbeckn26

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