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me: *begins reading fic*
the reader: *turns red*
me:
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I totally get if you're too busy with all your prompts, and feel free to ignore this if you are, but I would absolutely love if you did the below touch-starved prompts for Marc when you have a moment pls because he's literal babey and you write him so damn well
their breath hitching whenever the other gets a little closer
^ feeling crushed when that action is taken as a sign of discomfort, and they watch them slowly back off
Marc Spector + feeling crushed when your breath hitches
a/n: anything for you bats, im honored you would send me a prompt 🥰
"I can win it for you," Marc says, the noise and color of the city fair muted when you're standing next to him.
"I want to win it myself," you counter. "But thank you very much. That's very noble of you."
Marc stays quiet, watches the flex of your arm as you aim another dart at the target on the other side of the booth. The flashing lights of the game booth reflect in the depths of your eyes and over your skin in a colorful, hypnotic whirl.
The scent of fried food, beer, and lemonade hangs in the air, occasionally washed away by the cool summer breeze blowing off the lake several blocks away.
You loose the dart and miss the bullseye again. "C'mon," he says, handing his third five dollar bill over to the kid running the booth before you can even ask. "Lemme at least help you."
"Fine," you huff as you're presented with five more darts. "I just need to hit it once, for the little one." You point up at the stuffed black bear that had drawn you over in the first place.
"We can get it once," he assures you.
Marc walks you through how to hold the dart, how to place your feet and release it, the way your wrist should snap forward.
You follow along carefully, and the kid doesn't pay any attention to the pair of you. No one else was jostling for a chance to throw darts for a stuffed bear like you were.
This time when you let the dart fly it lands closer to the bullseye. Still, you're pretty far away from hitting it.
Marc nods. "Better. Try again. You need to snap your wrist harder."
"I'm trying," you grit, just a tad of frustration seeping into your tone.
"You can do it," he encourages.
You throw the dart and it lands further out than the first though your technique is better. "Ugh! This is impossible!"
"No, it's not," he says patiently. "You're just getting frustrated."
You glare at him and he laughs. "C'mere, baby," he reaches for you, "I'll show you."
Marc's fingers skim your wrist, and you inhale sharply. The noise knocks him out of his head, and he drops his hand. His heart sinks into his stomach, a bitter vine slithering up his throat.
He knows better than to touch you suddenly, or at all.
You've been strange about touch since he met you, your body going stiff and hard whenever anyone even casually touched you. He isn't sure why, and he knows it's not him. Still, the thought creeps in. Why would you want him to touch you anyways?
"Look," he says instead, brushing past the moment to pick up one of the other darts. "Hold it like this and then-," he mimes the motion. "Like that. Try it again."
You stare at him, the colors still whirling over your face. "Well," you hesitate. "Can't you show me?"
Marc stares at you for a long moment.
"I thought you were going to show me," you say, looking embarrassed as you gesture between you.
"Are you sure?"
"How else am I gonna learn?" You ask.
His heart feels caught in his throat, but he manages to react.
Marc steps behind you, plasters his chest to your back and takes your hand in his. He guides you slowly, distracted by the heat of your body against his.
Your arm is cradled against his, his elbow cuffing yours in.
Your breath hitches again, but this time he knows its excited, anticipatory. Marc draws your hand back and guides it forward.
The dart lands with a loud thunk in the center of the bullseye.
"Yes!" You squeal and turn in his arms, giving him an abrupt hug that leaves him oddly flustered. He doesn't get to return your hug before you're whirling away and pointing excitedly to the little bear.
"You still have two darts," he reminds you. "You could win something bigger."
You shake your head, "No. I want him." You reach out and put your hand in his. "Please."
He falters for a moment, your hand in his, before he remembers himself and squeezes your hand back. "Whatever you want, baby."
The guy hands you the bear you pick out, and Marc keeps your hand in his. "Why'd you want that one?"
"Look how grumpy it is," you hold it out in front of you as you walk away from the booth. "He looks just like you."
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Open My Eyes - Moon Knight 🌙✨
Pairings: Moon Boy System x F!Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut(tish), Action
Summary: Jake and Steven were more than happy when you agreed to be in a relationship with them, but Marc barely fronts when you're near. Will he warm up to you over time?
Warnings: smutty themes, reader first is sceptical about the boi's DID, swearing, fire, and my questionable ability to write. Also it's looooooong. And it's also probably full of errors.
A/N: So this was supposed to be about the trope "Jake and Steven love you, but Marc hates you" but for the life of me I couldn't write Marc as an asshole, so he's just a pining little meow meow 🥺 This also became a fic about how you became each bois' girlfriend, which was totally not in my intention to explain but oh well.
Forever tags: @jake-g-lockley @hot-mess-express1 @this-is-me19
Marc and Layla's relationship was doomed from the start. Marc's life was surronded by tragedy from a very young age and it was because of a tragedy why him and Layla met in the first place. Even if she was able to make him forget the bad times, it was only momentary, the darkness of the past and the devastating chain of events that led him to her always hung above their heads like a dark cloud, ready to pour heavy rain on them in any moment.
Everytime Marc felt just a spark of joy in her presence, the memories of her father's demise terorrized him, making him wonder if he indeed married her out of true love or in hopes to redeem himself.
He cared about her, deeply. He cared about her enough to make the right choice and leave her, for her own safety, even if it meant breaking her heart. It hurt him. It hurt him bad, but he knew he made the right decision. Maybe this was his fate. Living alone - well, if you don't count the alters in his head - and watching over others, protecting them. Serving the greater good selflessly, putting other people's needs before his own.
Too bad Jake and Steven didn't see it the same way.
It didn't happen fast. It wasn't like in movies where the main hero looked at the heroine and fell in love at first sight.
You called for a cab and Jake happened to be the one to pick you up on a rainy day. It wasn't anything extraordinary. Small talk during the ride and you exited with a grateful smile, leaving a nice tip.
Problems started when you got into his taxi more and more times. Leaving for work when you were late for the bus, leaving from work when the weather was cruel. Catching a taxi to meet a friend at a restaurant for lunch. Waving at one after you decided it was time to leave the party your co-workers invited you to.
More often than not it was Jake who picked you up and soon he gave you his number to call him directly when you needed a ride. You were kind-hearted and easy to talk to, and he liked having regulars. It made his job feel less like a job, it was like driving friends around the town.
Jake was parking near the train station when he felt his phone buzz. He pulled it out of his pocket and smiled when he saw the notification of a text message with your name.
'Please save me 🙏'
He chuckled and immediately answered to your plea, asking what was the problem. It was an early Wednesday afternoon so the chances that he had to pick you up from a failed date were low.
'Mom and her sister are getting on my nerves. They want to meet my boyfriend.'
Jake didn't count himself as the dramatic type, but he swore his heart stopped beating for a solid five seconds when he read your text.
You... had a boyfriend? But the dates you went to...?
'Mom is always on my ass cause my younger sister is already married and has a kid. So I lied to her a few months ago that I'm seeing someone. And now she wants to meet him!'
The relieved sigh Jake let out amused Steven, but it worried Marc. This was not good.
'Seems to me you should've called an escort service and not your fave cabbie 😌' - Jake wrote his reply.
There was a pause before you sent a text again.
'That's right, you're my favourite cabbie 🥺💖'
The giddy expression on Jake's face soon turned into suspicion when you didn't send anything else. His eyes narrowed as his mind worked. Then his eyes snapped open. He's gonna kick your ass for almost making him suffer through two heart attacks in five minutes.
'No.' - he replied simply.
'Just a quick dinner with my mom and aunt!'
'No.'
'Pretty please? 🥺💖 Do you wanna lose your favourite customer? 🤧'
'Is that a threat?'
'Yes. Is it working?'
'No.'
There was another pause before you replied.
'Okay. Always knew you were a pussy. I just ask someone else.'
Jake's jaw dropped, while Steven snickered at him from the rearview mirror. Marc decided to not show himself. It's not like he didn't like you, but he didn't want this to turn into something more than a friendship.
Jake pressed the call button next to your name. That was one thing that you called him a pussy, but the uneasy feeling that filled his chest when he pictured you with some other man acting all lovey-dovey was slowly eating him up from the inside.
So that's how the boys found themselves waiting outside your flat to pick you up in their black 1967 Ford Mustang.
When the door to your building opened, Jake's breath caught in his throat, which happened more and more often in the past few weeks, much to Marc's dismay. You were wearing a cute burgundy red skirt that reached your mid thighs, a light cream coloured knitted button up cardigan, black stockings with small polka dots and black boots.
'Earth to Jake! Open the door for her!' - Steven urged him and Jake quickly got out of the car and walked to the other side just when you reached it.
He didn't miss the way your eyes took in his appearence. He was wearing black pants, a dark blue button up shirt and a black blazer.
"Te ves hermosa como siempre, mi vida." - Jake said with a smile. - "Beautiful as always." - he translated minus the nickname, and gently took your hand while he opened the car door with his other.
"Always the gentleman." - you beamed up at him. - "You look good too. My mom and auntie will approve." - you winked at him as you sat inside and Jake's smile grew to twice its size as he closed the door and walked to the other side.
He didn't know why that made him so happy. It was just a one time thing. You were just pretending to be dating for tonight. It hadn't even begun yet, but Jake already wished the night never ended.
"Hmm, do I tip you this well?" - you asked as you caressed the inside of the car's door and Jake laughed at the hidden compliment.
"Well, I am your favourite cabbie, aren't I?" - he asked back as he started driving.
"Debatable. Ask me after the night ends." - you said and when Jake looked at you with his ever present smile since he saw you, he felt himself suck his lower lip between his teeth when he saw the expression on your face.
You two liked bickering and to tease each other, sprinkled with some easy flirting for fun. But the suggestive smile you presented him in that moment made his whole body buzz with excitement. So much that even Steven and Marc could feel it.
'Are we completely sure this is 'fake' dating? Cause damn, mate.' - Steven fanned himself.
When Jake felt his cheeks grow hot he looked back to watch the road with a little shake of his head, smirk never fading, especially when he heard your chuckle.
"So, is there anything I should know about you mom and auntie?"
"Ugh, you're gonna love them. And it's not even sarcasm. They like to roast me just like you."
"Mi amor, I would never...!"
"Everytime you saw my dates you questioned my taste in men, Jake." - you said with humor in your voice.
Jake snorted.
"That's because all of them looked complete fucking morons." - he said under his breath.
"See?! You're doing it again!"
"No! I mean...! Escucha..." - Jake tried to calm down when he realized he got caught. - "That's because it's so damn obvious you're way out of their league. You could do better."
You snorted and Jake's brows furrowed. He knew you didn't think highly of yourself. You didn't believe you could find a better job, you didn't believe you were beautiful, you didn't believe you were funny, or entertaining. In his opinion you were a gem among women, and he thought everybody who didn't see that was an idiot.
"Like who?" - you asked with a raised eyebrow.
'Like us, duh!' - Steven answered in the mirror and Jake shoot him a glare.
"I don't know. Just not... them."
You sighed frustrated, and Jake dropped the subject.
"So... anything else besides that all three of us find great pleasure in making you suffer?" - he looked at you and smiled again when he saw the corner of your lip curved upwards.
"Well... Mom likes those sappy soap operas that you watch too..."
"Dios mio... Am I your mom?" - Jake cut you off and you laughed.
"I bet you are in another univerese. My auntie is a big history nerd, but she's fun too."
'Oh my god.' - Steven said from the mirror. - 'Am I her auntie?'
"She couldn't really seem to find one intelligent boyfriend in my dating history. It's a little bit harder to impress her."
"Oh really?" - Jake asked in a low voice as he eyed Steven with mischief behind his eyes.
"Yeah. That's mom's house!" - you pointed at one at the end of the street.
'I don't like that look, mate.' - Steven said with narrowed eyes.
"Just a moment, carino." - Jake said as you both climbed out of the car and he went to the trunk and opened it. - "Vamos, it's Steven o'clock!"
'What? No!'
"She asked us to pretend to be her boyfriend, we gotta impress them!"
'You can impress her mom with your knowledge of sappy TV shows!'
"Steven it's much easier if I help you out with soap opera characters, than you trying to explain the family tree of some horny incestuous pharaoh to me!" - Jake whispered harshly.
'Bloody hell!'
You jumped a little when the trunk door shut loudly and Jake looked at you with a nervous smile, lifting up two beautiful boquets of flowers.
"Oh, 50 points to Gryffindor!" - you finger gunned him as you walked to the door.
"Gotta impress, the future in-laws, yeah?"
You frowned, but couldn't stop the laugh that escaped you.
"What's with the accent?"
"Women love Brittish lads, don't you, darling?" - he asked with a wink, and to your surprise you felt your cheeks heat up and you had to look away when he smirked.
-----
"But seriously, that was amazing! Or should I say: 'That was bloody brilliant, mate!'" - you faked a Brittish accent, making Jake laugh. - "How did you do it?" - you asked as he walked you to your door.
"Maybe I like watching Downton Abbey too." - Jake said as he leaned against the wall with his shoulder as he watched you fish out the keys from your bag.
You giggled louder and looked up at him.
"My mom and auntie love you. My phone is blowing up with their messages ever since we left!" - you said as you pulled it out of your pocket to show him the notifications.
"Really? What are they saying?" - he asked as he tried to see, but you put it back.
"It doesn't really matter."
"Why?"
"Well, before I asked you to do this, I already knew it is just gonna be a one-time thing. In the next couple of weeks we're gonna break up or you get hit by a bus. I haven't really decided yet."
Jake tried to hide his disappointment and focused on the coversation.
"Get hit by a bus? Do I really deserve that after what I just did for you?" - he lifted an eyebrow.
His heart started to beat faster when he saw your sparkling eyes examine his face, taking quite a long time staying on his lips.
'We should go home, Jake. You have an early shift tomorrow.'
'Shut up, Marc.' - Steven warned, as he eagerly waited to see where this was going.
Jake and him knew Marc was awfully careful to not get close to anyone, ever since the divorce with Layla. They respected it, keeping women at arms lenght themselves, wanting to give Marc time to cope. But the divorce happened last year. He can't really ask them to stay alone forever, right?
"Maybe you can convince me otherwise." - you said as you licked your lips.
Jake slowly moved closer to you, trapping your body between his and your door. The tension in the air grew thicker with each passing second, and Jake moved his hand to caress the outer side your thigh through your stockings, fingertips teasing you ever so gently, while he bent his head to the side.
"And how do I do that, princesa?"
He felt your breathing quicken, just like his. The autumn air was chilly, but both of your bodies were burning like it was the middle of summer. The heat was starting to get unbearable and Jake wanted nothing more in that moment than to rip away all of your clothes and relieve the tension between his legs, which was throbbing harder and harder for you.
"It's not midnight yet. Technically you're still my boyfriend." - you panted as you slightly lifted your face towards his, while you put your hands on his chest.
"Does that mean I can do this?" - he asked and leaned down.
You thought that he was going to kiss you, but he pushed his forehead against yours, as his hand travelled from the outside of your thigh to between your legs. His fingertips caressed their way up on the inside of your thigh painfully slowly, until he met your panties through the stockings and he suddenly rubbed it harshly.
The action made you jump and you gasped, your hot breath hitting Jake's face as he put his other hand around your throat, being careful to not apply any pressure.
"Does it?" - he asked in a harsh whisper and you whimpered out a weak yes before you pulled his head down roughly and kissed him desperately.
He swallowed your moans hungrily as he rubbed your pussy harder and faster. One of your hands grabbed his wrist, trying to pull it away in a weak attempt.
"Jake, we're still outside."
"Open the door then, before I fuck you through it."
Your legs literally trembled at his words, while your pussy clenched hard around nothing. A new wave of arousal washed through you and you grabbed his shoulders hard, jumping up, wrapping your legs around his waist.
"Kinda wanna see you try." - you whispered before you kissed him again.
He growled as his fingers dig into your thighs deeply. Damn, if you keep talking back like that he's gonna cum before the fun even started.
"Gimme those." - he yanked the keys out of your hand.
He was holding you up with one hand, while his hips were grinding into yours, pushing you into your door.
His belt buckle was rubbing you just the right way and you squeezed Jake's body more with your arms and legs, trying to muffle your moans as you sucked on the skin of his neck.
"Which one, doll?" - he panted, as he felt you curl around him more and more.
While Jake fumbled with the keys, you started to grind harder against him.
"Fuck, baby, you're gonna cum?" - he asked as you threw your head back, not giving a shit about how loudly it banged in the quiet night.
Jake started to roll his hips into you harder as he watched your face, eyes closed in pleasure, mouth hanging open as your moans started to get louder. He quickly put his hand over your mouth.
"Oh, you're gonna cum. Sí, just a little more. Sí, cum for papí." - a huge smile appeared on his face when your whole body trembled in his arms and you moaned into his hand, riding out your orgasm as he helped you move.
He chuckled when you collapsed in his arms and after the third try he found the right key.
"I got you, muneca." - he said as he carried you inside and kicked the door shut, turning the lock once. - "Bedroom?"
You weakly lifted your arm and pointed to a direction.
He gently laid you down on your bed and pulled down your boots.
"Can I undress you?"
You bit your lip as you smiled. A few minutes ago he told you that he's gonna fuck you through your door, then he actually made you cum right outside, and now he's asking if he can undress you.
"Is it midnight yet?"
Jake smiled as he looked at the clock and he kicked down his shoes and pulled off his blazer. He answered your question with a shake of his head and climbed on top of you.
"Maybe you're not gonna get hit buy a bus." - you whispered as he started leaving soft kisses around your neck.
He chuckled and looked up at you.
"Gracias, mi amor." - he nuzzled your nose. - "Only one question remained." - he said as he gently grabbed your wrist and held them above your head. - "Are we gonna break up?"
"I don't know yet. Will you fuck me to find out?"
"With pleasure." - Jake leaned down to kiss you, then he heard Steven's annoyed voice in his head.
'Just for the record, I should be the one shagging her right now.'
-----
Jake was a nervous wreck. You were only dating him for three weeks, but he wanted to tell you about his condition. He didnt want to wait longer, until things turn more serious and it turns out that you don't want to be with a mentally ill person, which honestly had a very high possibility. He wouldn't blame you though. Neither would Steven or Marc.
Marc was even convinced that you're gonna run for the hills when you hear the news. He warned the boys ever since the first night you've spent with Jake that it wasn't a good idea, that they're just exposing themselves for a heartbreak. Marc was co-fronting a lot of times while Jake drove you around in his taxi, and he honestly thought you were a breath of fresh air, but he didn't know why your friendship wasn't enough for Jake and Steven.
Steven. He was so excited when Jake and you got together. He wanted you too. He wanted a girlfriend too who he can love and who loved him back. This was like with Layla all over again. A woman he never met before gave him divorce papers and he refused to sign them just because he could finally have someone he could call his. Steven was in love with the concept of being in love and he wanted it so much he was ready to get hurt again and again until he finds the right one.
And he thought the boys found the right one in you. Marc sometimes wished he could be that optimistic as him, but he felt more comfortable behind his walls he built around himself. Even this way he knew it still gonna hurt him when you send them away.
Jake knocked on your door and mirrored your annoyed expression when you opened it.
"Oh, it's you again." - you said disappointed.
"Unfortunately."
"Just wonderful."
"Peachy."
"Fucker."
"Puta."
You narrowed your eyes, then suddenly burst out laughing and hugged him tightly.
'You guys are so weird.' - Steven commented, but Jake could hear the longing in his voice.
"Missed me, mi vida?" - Jake wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, peppering your neck with kisses.
Maybe it was the last time he could do it. The tought made him hug you to him stronger.
"Not at all." - you purred and kissed him deeply as he walked inside and shut the door.
He smiled and carried you to the couch where he put you down and he sat down too, facing you.
"You wanted to talk?" - you asked as you let him take both of your hands in his.
"Sí." - he replied, watching how small your hands looked in his as he played with your fingers.
Your smile slowly disappeared as you watched him. He had a far away look on his face. He looked sad.
"You're breaking up with me." - you said and cursed yourself inside your head when you felt tears well up in your eyes.
His head snapped up to look at you.
"Que?! No, no, no, no, no! Princesa, I'm not breaking up with you! Why would you think that, mi amor?!" - he asked and he cupped your face with one hand when he saw your tears.
"Because you said on the phone that you wanted to speak and you sat me down on the couch and avoid looking at me! You know... like someone who is about to tell you they wanna break up!"
"Silly girl." - he leaned in and kissed your lips softly. - "You're absolutely perfect. I'm the luckiest man in town to have you."
You wiped a tear away, when you felt yourself calm down a little.
"Only in town?"
Jake chuckled and kissed you again.
"In the whole universe."
"Oh, you're too kind." - you twirled your hair acting shy, and Jake laughed again, harder.
You always made him laugh. He's gonna miss that.
'Stop that, mate. It's gonna be fine.' - Steven said reassuringly.
Jake caressed your shoulder, his touch lingering a few seconds more than usual.
"I think I'm just gonna say it." - Jake started as he stood up to put a little space between you two. The last thing he wanted is to make you feel uncomfortable. - "I have a mental illness." - he said and looked at you to see your reaction.
You looked surprised first, then worried. You waited for him to continue.
"It's called Dissociative Identity Disorder."
You licked your lips nervously before you spoke with a small shake of your head.
"I never heard of that. What's that?"
Jake took in a deep breath, then gulped. You were still listening. Good.
"It's a bit complicated. Basically... I have multiple identities."
The expression on your face was unreadable.
"Meaning...?"
"Well, in my case... there are three of us. In one body."
"Three of you..." - you repeated quietly as you looked down, trying to process the information.
"Sí. Remember last Friday when I was supposed to pick you up from work? And I texted that I can't, because I had to go take care of some official business. That wasn't me. Marc took the body, because he got a call from the bank and had to take care of it."
You looked at him confused. Jake heart sank when he recognized something else. Doubt.
"Took the body? What? Okay. You could've have just said you wanted to break up." - you huffed.
"Princesa. I'm telling the truth."
"Yeah right." - you stood up. - "You know, I was dumped before. They always told me the same 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit, but wow, you took it to the next level." - you said, cold. Defensive.
"Why are you still so convinced that you're not worthy of others' love?" - Jake asked, sounding desperate. - "This is the exact reason I'm telling you this now! I didn't want you to find it out later, before our feeli..." - Jake cut himself off and pushed a hand through his hair. - "I'm giving you an option now."
"Wow, thanks a lot! So you're twisting it to make it seem like it's my decision to end this!"
Jake felt like someone reached inside his chest, grabbed his heart and started mercilessly squeezing it. He was aware of the possibility that you won't wanna see him again after this, but it hurt much worse when you said it out loud. What made it more terrible that you believed that he was lying. That what he told you was just an excuse to push you away.
"You know... I thought I deserved more. Especially from you! We were... friends first, Jake! And then you got what you wanted, had some fun, then got bored with me and now you give me this over the top story to make me leave?!"
"I'm not lying to you! I'm ill! I have two other people living in my head, why the fuck would I make that up?! You already met one of them!" - Jake started to get defensive too. He couldn't believe you thought so low of him.
"Oh, yeah? When?" - you mocked, crossing your arms over your chest.
"The night we were at your mom's! The brittish guy?!"
He saw as your skeptical look changed as you eyed him. He could practically hear the gears turning in your head. Hope slowly started to spread through his chest. Then it all drifted away when you started laughing.
"Do you really think I buy that? God, just the... nerve of you!" - you said frustrated, then you took in a shaky breath. - "You know what? Get out. I give you what you want. You're free..." - you said as your voice quieted down and Jake saw as tears welled up in your eyes.
Jake could fucking murder someone. He balled his hands into fists at his sides to try to calm himself down. It's not just that you didn't believe him. It's also the reason why you didn't believe him. He didn't know what happened to you in the past that made you think so lowly of yourself that you thought you don't deserve honesty, that you don't deserve to be treated like an equal human being like the rest. It angered him the most. Something happened that fucked you up so much that you couldn't see love even when it was right in front of you. He offered his heart to you on a plate and you pushed it back, even when he tried to make it so obvious in the past three weeks how he felt for you.
'It's time to go, Jake.' - Marc said in his head.
He sounded... sympatethic. He knew what it felt like. He warned Jake about it. He warned Steven about it. Steven. Jake couldn't hear him now, but he knew he saw everything. He was equally scared and excited to tell you about their condition. He was scared you won't accept them, but Steven was so into you now that he was ready to risk it all. He told Jake about how much he wanted to front again in your presence, how much he wanted to hold your hand himself. To hug you. To kiss you.
And now all of his hopes were gone. All of their hopes were gone.
When Jake felt the tears coming, he turned around without a word and walked out.
When you heard the quiet click of the door closing, you let out a sob and fall back on the couch.
-----
Jake called in sick the same afternoon. He gave the body to Marc to do whatever the fuck he wanted. He didn't give a shit. All he cared about was to not feel as his heart was ripped out of his chest everytime his mind played that day on repeat in his head.
Five days have passed and Marc started to feel tired. He wasn't used to operating the body for this long, especially while doing 'night shifts' for Khonshu but for Jake and Steven he had to stay strong. It wasn't much of a help that they even refused to co-front, the silence in his head was something he was not used to. So most of the time the apartment was filled with music, and he made sure all of the boys' favourite songs were on the playlist.
He understood them though. He did the same after Layla and him split ways. He sometimes even disappeared when they were still together. He was glad Jake and Steven had the courage to reveal their condition to you, something Marc wasn't able to do to Layla. It was better this way. As Jake said it was better if they did it sooner. Marc understood it better than anyone else what it was like to be in a relationship that was based on lies.
Marc tapped his foot and bobbed his head to the music while he looked around the kitchen counters and fridge with a pencil and notepad in his hand. He was making a list on what he needed to buy when he's gonna go to the store later.
'Don't forget the beer. I know you drank mine.'
"Jesus fuck!" - Marc jumped when he heard Jake's voice in his head after almost a week of silence. - "You scared the shit outta me, bro." - he said as he scribbled down Jake's favourite beer brand.
'I can sense you are tired. Want me to take over?'
Ever the protector.
"It's alright, buddy. I'm just not used to it."
Marc turned around surprised when there was a knock on the door. It was so quiet, he almost didn't hear it.
'Expecting someone?'
"No."
This time Jake took control over the body without question, which Marc was grateful for. Even if it was just some random neighbour, he didn't feel like dealing with them. It's not like he was blasting the music like last time.
When Jake looked in the peephole, he had to put both hands against the door to steady himself. He pulled away and looked down, dozens of emotions rushing through him wave after wave.
'Open the door!'
This time it was him who jumped when he heard Steven's desperate voice.
Jake took in a few calming breaths, unlocked the door then he felt like the wind was knocked out of him when he opened it and he saw you. Were you always this breathtakingly beautiful?
It's not like you were wearing anything fancy. Light blue jeans, a black oversized sweater and white sneakers. No make-up, and now that he took a better look at you, he saw that your eyes were red. Were you crying?
His suspicion was confirmed when you waved awkwardly at him as greeting and you sniffled.
"Hi."
"Hi." - he breathed back, unable to do anything else.
Why were you here?
"I know I'm probably the last person on Earth you want to see now, but uh... I just wanted to apologize." - you said as your voice gave out, but you cleared your throat, gulped big and tried to find your next words. - "You told me something that was very private, and I know it's something that you wouldn't share with just anyone. You... uh... trusted me with this... very important thing, you shared it with me and there was no reason at all for me to react to it how I did. I was insensitive and just... such a fucking asshole? So uhm... I just wanted you to know that it wasn't in my intention to hurt you and I didn't want to make you feel bad or anything... Well, it's not entirely true, cause in that moment I wanted to fucking kick your ass, but that was just because I was confused and hurt and yeah... Stupid. Very, very stupid, which you should be used to by now, but I betrayed your trust and hurt you and I am truly very sorry for not letting you explain. Wow, I'm crying again." - you said as you buried your face in your hands and wiped your eyes and nose furiously before you looked back up at... wait which one of them were you talking to? - "Oh god! You're Jake, right? Or one of the other guys? Marc, was it? I don't remember Jake tellig me the other name, but holy fuck I'm so sorry?! God, you probably don't even know who I am! Jesus, I'm so sorry! I should've texted first or something! Or I shouldn't have come here at all... Wow, uhm. Sorry! I'm gonna just..." - you pointed towards the lift, as you took a step behind and that's what broke Jake out of his trance.
"Why are you here?"
You gulped as you looked into his eyes. God, you missed his voice. Missed his presence. Just the fact that you could see him made you feel so warm.
"To apologize."
"Why did you want to apologize?"
You frowned. Did they... switch or something? Are you talking to another alter? You just explained it to him.
"Because I acted like an ass and..." - you stopped and gulped when he walked closer.
"Why did you want to apologize?"
Your hands started to shake as you stared up into his chocolate brown eyes. So warm.
"Because I..." - you stopped and wiped another wave of tears away from your eyes.
"Sí, princesa?" - he stepped closer, cupping your face with one of his hands.
It was him.
"Jake." - you breathed as you slowly slipped your hand into his other one at his side.
A small smile appeared on his face, and when he blinked a teardrop rolled down on his cheek.
"I love you." - you confessed and Jake's smile widened.
"Apology accepted." - he leaned down and kissed you.
You let go of his hand and got on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissed him back. You smiled when he circled his arms around your waist and lifted you up.
You pulled away from the kiss, but pressed your forehead against his.
"I'm so sorry." - you told him again.
"Already told you, mi vida. It's okay. What matters is that you're here now." - he whispered as he closed his eyes and breathed in your scent. - "I missed you."
"I missed you too. So much."
"Then why did it took so damn long for you to come here?"
You chuckled and pecked his lips.
"We're gonna talk about it outside?"
"Oh." - Jake put you down and grabbed your hand, leading you inside the apartment.
He closed the door and walked to the couch with you. When he sat down and you wanted to sit next to him, he pulled you in his lap, making you sit on him sideways and he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your temple, then he let you push your face into his neck.
"Well, after you left I cried for hours." - you started and felt him hug you stronger. - "Then I started using my nut sized brain."
"Your brain is not nut sized." - Jake scolded you.
"It must be, otherwise I wouldn't have acted like how I did."
"Doll, stop it. We knew it was a possibility that you won't take our condition... well."
You lifted your head from his shoulder and smiled softly at him.
"What?" - he asked as he slowly started caressing your arm.
"You spoke in plural." - you said, smile widening.
Jake's eyes widened, embarrassed. Did it bother you?
"Sorry. It's just a thing each of us do sometimes."
"No, no, no. It's cute."
Jake looked down as he felt his cheeks heat up, then he lifted his eyes back to yours. He looked so soft.
You caressed his face and continued.
"So uhm. When I calmed down a little I started thinking about that night when we had dinner with my mom and auntie. Is Marc the Brittish guy?"
"No, mi vida. That's Steven. Marc's American."
"Steven." - you repeated the name, and unbeknownst to you Steven smiled, liking the way it sounded in your voice. - "So, when I was thinking about that night, I realized that it wasn't just the accent that changed. The way he talked, his body language, his facial expressions... Everything was so different from yours. At that time I just thought it was an act, but when you told me he was one of the other guys, it actually made sense. It just didn't really click at first. Then I used good old friend google and started reading about DID. I know, I know, not the best source of information when you wanna learn about illnesses and stuff, but I needed something to help me understand. Then uh... when I realized you may have told me the truth I was..."
"Sad? Devastated?" - Jake guessed when you trailed off.
"Butthurt." - you nodded to yourself in confirmation and Jake started laughing. His deep, genuine belly laugh. It made you smile.
"You know I'm a proud woman, Lockley, shut up." - you playfully smacked his shoulder.
"That you are, muneca." - he kissed your face. He missed it when you made him laugh. He missed rewarding you with a kiss for it.
"So I spent the next day licking my wounds. And the day after it. And the day after it."
Jake continued to chuckle. Both of you were hurting in the past few days, but it gave him relief that you were finally back in his arms. He felt so content in that moment with you.
"Meanwhile I was missing you. I wanted to apologize, wanted to call you or text you or something, but after how I acted I knew you wouldn't wanna do anything with me anymore."
"That's not true, baby. I wasn't angry. Well, not completely true... But I was... disappointed mostly. It hurt that you thought I was lying. It made me think that you didn't trust me in the first place."
"I know." - you hugged him and he caressed your back, while leaving small kisses in your hair. - "I'm fucked up. I just don't really believe that good things can happen to me. Then you came along and I finally started to think otherwise then... yeah." - you pulled away to look at him. - "I'm so sorry, baby."
Jake smiled and pushed his forehead to yours. He couldn't express it in words how much it meant to him that you came here and apologized to him. Especially this many times. But he just wanted to forget that fight ever happened and he wanted to focus on the good things from now on.
"Stop that, muneca. I forgave you already. You could push me in front of a bus and I would forgive you." - you started laughing at the refernece and Jake's heart soared. - "Te amo también."
You let out a sound between a sob and laugh and you kissed him again. Just when it started to turn more heated, Jake heard Steven clear his throat.
"Right." - he pulled away and pecked your cheek. - "Uhm, we don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything, you can totally say no. But uh... Steven wants to front. He had a great time during that dinner and he was wondering if you'd wanna meet him officially."
You smiled big and nodded excitedly.
"Yeah. I had a great time too. He's funny."
"Careful, doll. You're making me jealous." - Jake warned playfully.
"Yeah? What if I tell you for the performance he gave that night I think he should've been the one I reward." - you winked.
'Thank you!' - Steven said pointedly.
Jake smirked.
"Don't give him ideas, doll."
You kissed his lips quickly then climbed down from his lap and onto the couch, but you stayed close to him.
"Okay, ready." - you beamed up at him.
Jake winked at you and he looked away for a few seconds then his expression changed to a very excited one.
"Hello!" - he looked at you with a big smile and you giggled at the very visible contrast between the two men.
Steven's eyes radiated joy and his whole body language changed, even when he was just sitting.
"Hello, nice to meet you."
"Likewise, love."
"You left quite an impression on my mom and auntie, good job!"
"Did my best. I like them too." - he admitted.
"Good to hear. We can visit them more in the future, if you want to."
Steven's ears perked up.
"That would be lovely! Although, I must admit... I was wondering... if you'd want to of course... to... maybe... have dinner with me sometime? You know... just the two of us?"
You tilted your head in curiosity then your eyes widened when realization hit you.
"You're... You're asking me out on a date?"
Steven nodded as he bit his lip nervously. God, he was adorable.
"I... I don't know... I mean..."
"It's okay, love. Was just askin..." - Steven said as his shoulders shrank.
"No! I mean, I'd love to!" - you admitted and he beamed at you again. - "It's just... I'm kinda... dating Jake. Sorry, I don't know how this works." - you shook your head embarrassed.
Steven took your hands in his and squeezed them reassuringly.
"You can stay exclusive with Jake. But he's completely okay with... you know... if you like me too..."
"Oh. O-okay. Wow, okay, yeah. A date sounds good." - you smiled, feeling your cheeks grow hot. Steven chuckled and kissed the back of both of your hands.
"Wonderful, darling. I'll give you back to Jake. For now." - he added with a wink and he smirked when you gasped.
"Hombre's getting too good at this." - Jake shook his head annoyed, then he looked in your eyes. - Mi amor, there's another little thing you should know about."
You squeezed his hands reassuringly.
"Yeah?"
"We are Moon Knight."
-----
Okay, so you needed time to process that information too. Your first reaction again was to laugh in his face of course, which he was getting used to by now whenever you're put under stress. The doubt was quickly replaced by a painful grimace when Jake summoned his black and white suit to prove his words and you fell down from the couch on your ass.
So a few days later as promised Steven took you out to a nice restaurant and both him and Jake was shocked (in a good way) how much effort you put into impressing him. You were wearing an elegant long sleeved white dress that reached just below your knees, and it had a very nice v-neck cleveage. You were wearing silver high heels and silver accessories, and the deep red lipstick was just taunting Steven through the whole evening to kiss it.
So he did. When after the dinner he offered to walk you home and you said you'd rather go to his place as you stepped closer to him to play with the hem of his button up shirt. He just couldn't help himself. Without warning he just leaned down and kissed you, eagerly pushing his tongue in your mouth when you immediately opened your lips to him.
"You're always this impatient?" - Steven asked with a soft growl when you pushed yourself up against him in the elevator, kissing and licking his neck.
"Ask Jake." - you purred.
Steven moved his head sideways to look in the mirror and saw Jake nodding with a smirk.
"Maybe someone should teach you some manners, then." - Steven panted and grabbed your wrist, holding it behind you with an iron grip.
You gasped and threw your head back when he held your strongly against him as he slipped his thigh between your legs. This time it was him who kissed your neck, but while you mostly just teased him with soft licks and small pecks, his teeth sank into your skin, sucking hard, then he roughly lapped at the marked skin, driving you completely crazy.
Women loved Brittish lads indeed.
After you clumsily exited the elevator, Steven pushed you against the wall of the corridor and pulled up your dress on your thigh with one hand, while his other was holding your wrists above your head. He teasingly licked your lower lip and when you wanted to kiss him he pulled away with a little smile, then when you pouted he licked your lips again.
"Shh, darling." - he whispered and you felt him caress his way inside your panties.
You opened your legs more as your breath caught in your throat.
"That's it, love. Such a good girl." - he slowly gathered your wetness and kissed the sensitive spot on your neck as he slowly caressed your clit.
"Steven." - you breathed and rocked your hips into his hand keeping his tempo.
"I've waited so long for this. Wanted to do this for so long. You drove me crazy. Look at you. So fucking gorgeous. And all mine. Mine to worship. Mine to play with. Mine, mine, mine." - he said possessively as he kissed his way up your neck and jaw then hungrily kissed your lips.
He pushed two fingers inside you and started fucking you, while he put his thumb on your clit, making you whimper in his mouth.
You moved your hips more wildly, his words and kisses fueled your pleasure.
"Yeah, fuck my fingers, sweet girl. You love it, don't you? You love it, yeah?" - somehow he managed to have a cocky smirk on his lips while he was watching your every reaction with great adoration.
When you nodded, he started pumping his fingers into you harder and he chuckled when your knees almost gave up under you and he let go of your wrists to wrap his arm around your waist. Your hands immediately went into his hair and you pulled him in roughly for another kiss.
"Say it." - he demanded between kisses.
"I love it when you fuck me." - you panted and you let out a high pitched whimper when you felt your orgasm started to build.
"If you cum on my fingers now, I'm gonna fuck you with my cock until you soak the sheets, alright, baby?"
"Fuck, Steven!" - you gasped and shut your eyes tight, bracing yourself for your orgasm.
"That's it. You're squeezing my fingers so hard, love. Can't wait until I feel it with my cock. Fuck!"
Before you could cry out, he kissed you again to muffle your sounds, and he chuckled against your mouth as you fucked yourself on his fingers, your own squeezing his shoulder and pulling on his hair almost painfully. He loved every second of it.
"Good girl." - Steven pecked your cheek, and slowly pulled his fingers out and licked them clean. He then picked you up bridal style and carried you inside the flat and into the bedroom while you started unbuttoning his shirt.
-----
Four months have passed and your relationship with Jake and Steven was close to perfect. There were some fights of course, about small things, but you always managed to talk it out and make up.
Sometimes Khonshu summoned them to patrol the city and fulfill their role as the protector of the travelers of the night, but since the world wasn't in immediate danger, they didn't have to leave for long missions. And since they were practically invincible in the suit, it made you feel more at ease. Jake even asked you to stab him with a knife so you'll see they're completely safe while doing their superhero stuff. You rewarded his idea by smacking him across the head.
The only thing that made you feel uneasy now was Marc. It's not like he was mean to you. Far from that. During the few times he did front in your presence he was always very respectful, but he kept you at arms lenght at all times. It was very rare when you saw him though. You were pretty sure Jake and Steven made him front to try and make him warm up to you. To at least be friendly.
The guys told you he really likes the lasagna you make and they came up with the idea that you should teach him how to make it. You tried not to look too eager, but you wanted to make sure Marc felt comfortable in your presence. He was an attentive man, he respected your personal space, he offered his help whenever he could. But he only asked about the recipe and the ingredients and when you tried to make small talk he kept his replies short and as impersonal as possible. You tried to act like it didn't bother you, but his tense shoulders and avoiding eyes told you he wasn't having the time of his life either.
It saddened you.
Jake and Steven told you why he was like that. They explained the divorce. They wanted Marc to talk to you about it, but when they saw how broken you looked after you spent time with Marc, they felt the need to explain it to you.
"And here I thought I'm gonna have a quiet life with my cabbie boyfriend." - you tried to ligthen the mood and Jake smiled.
"Sorry we're making you go through several existential crises every week." - he kissed your cheek as he pulled you closer.
"It's only fair since you have to put up with my dumbass all the time."
"Trust me, mi vida, none of us think this ass is dumb." - he kneaded your ass playfully.
"But... he doesn't hate me, does he?"
"Of coure not." - Jake kissed your forehead. - "He's just... cautious. You'll need to give him time."
"Okay." - you nodded and when he nuzzled your temple with a soft call of your name, you looked up at him.
"Thank you for being here for us."
You smiled at his honest expression and you kissed him softly. When you pulled away and he saw you open your mouth, he put his finger on your lips.
"Just take the fucking compliment, woman."
You burst out laughing. Him and Steven were still trying to build your confidence.
You bit his finger and he hissed when you kept it between your teeth and applied more pressure. Then he grunted when you wrapped your lips around it and licked at the spot where your teeth marked his skin.
"You little slut. Looks like we need to keep teaching you more about those manners you clearly don't fucking have."
"Oh no..." - you pouted as you slowly backed away, then when you saw a flash of white lit up his eyes for a second, you started running to the bedroom giggling, with Jake hot on your heels.
-----
Marc cleared his throat and gulped as his eyes slowly opened. It was still dark, but when he felt your body under his arm he knew you spent the night. Again.
He lifted his head and...
Yep.
Both of you were naked. Again.
The moon illuminated the dark room with a soft silver glow and he noticed that during your sleep you kicked off the blanket from you. Again.
Your body wasn't that warm like it is usually when you're enveloped in their embrace, so Marc took hold of the blanket and wrapped it around your form. He rubbed your arm softly a few times and he felt you sigh in content, scooting backwards towards him, seeking more warmth. He welcomed you in his arm, wrapping it around you, and he pushed his thumb between your soft breasts while he rested his palm just under your left boob. He closed his eyes focusing on your peaceful heartbeat. This was the only way he could fall back asleep lately.
It didn't matter how much he wanted to stay away, how much he tried to convince himself that he was better off alone, the past few months proved him wrong. He saw how much you lit up Jake and Steven's life. Without any shadows. Sure the start was rocky, but you proved how big of a heart you have, fitting three men in there comfortably. Marc didn't know if you could feel the same love for him as you did for Steven and Jake, but he knew he was there too, it was shown by your kindness towards him.
He also didn't know if he deserved it. Especially after doing things like holding your naked body against his, in secret, without you having any clue about what was happening.
But it felt too good havig you in his arms, without any dark cloud hanging above his head, without any tragic memory shielding the joy he was feeling in those stolen moments.
He wondered if you'd be happy if you'd woke up in his arms, if you'd smile at him with love and kiss him with the same passion you kissed Jake or Steven with.
He saw the longing in your eyes, but would he be able to be the man you deserved, or woud he fail again? He didn't know if he could live with the fact that he was the reason why you left the boys. They were happy now and he didn't dare to risk it for his own selfish needs.
So he used these little sacred moments like this one to pretend you were his too. He pulled your body closer to his and buried his face in your neck, a small smile pulling at his lips despite his previous thoughts, because now your body was warm just like his.
----
"She thinks you hate her." - Steven said.
'I don't hate her.'
"Jake and I know that. She doesn't. Maybe you should hug her when she's actually awake for a change."
Jake snorted and Marc looked annoyed. He wasn't even surprised they knew about his little secret.
'You three have a good relationship. You guys are happy. I don't wanna fuck that up.'
'And why would you fuck that up?' - Jake asked.
'Managed to fuck it up with Layla too.' - Marc shrugged.
'First of all that was entirely different. I'm not saying that you deserve the husband of the year award, but that marriage was bleeding from several wounds. Layla was great but there were too many fucked up factors in that relationship for it to work.' - Jake said.
"Yeah, like... there should be a rule that you shouldn't marry a woman after you saw her father get shot by your boss." - Steven added.
'Can we change the subject?'
'Sí, Steven, rude.'
"Sorry lads, just facts."
'He's right though. You're keeping your distance from our girl, when you literally have no reason to, but it should've been Layla you avoid. It was just doomed from the start. You had no chance doing anything about it even if you wanted to.'
"Y/N knows about our DID, knows about Khonshu. We're not keeping secrets from her. One of the reasons your marriage failed was because you weren't honest. We are honest with her. Was it hard? Yes. Did it worth it? Also yes. She loves us, Marc. All that matters for her is that we know we can trust her. And we do. Just as she can trust us. It's a two-way road." - Steven said.
Marc closed his eyes and after a few moments he nodded.
'I'll promise I'll try to do better. Just... let me do it in my own pace.'
'That's all we ask, hermano.'
-----
"You look really good."
You looked at the man in the reflection of the mirror and smiled. You were standing in front of the full lenght mirror of your apartment, wearing a long, elegant sleeveless black dress, a pearl necklace with pearl earrings, and red lipstick.
"Thank you, Marc." - you smiled as you smoothed down your dress one more time. - "I thought Jake's gonna drive me there." - you said and turned around, grabbing your purse from the bed.
Not like that you weren't happy Marc was here. You wished he fronted more to be with you.
"Thought you wouldn't mind if I take you." - he smiled as he walked to the door and held it open for you.
"Of course not. I just wish I wouldn't have to go at all." - you made a face and then fake-gagged, making him chuckle.
"Why don't you quit if you hate your job?" - he asked as he followed you down the stairs.
"I don't hate the job itself, I just hate my boss and coworkers."
"Yeah, sounds better."
You giggled and beamed up at him when he held the car door open for you too. He smiled back at you and helped you sit inside.
"I just hate that it's not enough that I have to look at their stupid faces all day five times a week, but they have to make these stupid parties like we couldn't wait to spend even more time with each other..." - you rolled your eyes.
Marc chuckled again as he shook his head and started driving. He always thought you were cute when you grumbled.
"What does your Moon Knight sense say? Isn't there a bad guy somewhere who wants to kidnap someone? All I'm saying is I volunteer as a tribute." - you said as you looked around.
It wasn't just Jake who loved your humor. When you were talking nonesense Marc always felt all the stress leave his body. It was cleansing. You made him forget his worries.
"No one will kidnap you." - he pointed out.
"Why? Am I not kidnap-worthy?"
Marc laughed again, then he looked at you and his eyes softened.
"I wouldn't let that happen."
You felt your heartbeat pick up. Did you enter another dimension or was Marc actually making conversation with you? He was even laughing. Okay, maybe your prayers have been heard and he's warming up to you.
You smiled brightly at him, then you looked out the window again, feeling your cheeks heat up.
"I know you wouldn't. You still suck at trying to make my lasagna alone."
'You haven't smiled this much since forever, mate.' - Steven pointed out from the rearview mirror.
When Marc looked there, he knew his headmate was right. The smile was not leaving his face.
"See? I need you." - Marc implied, but of course you didn't catch that one either.
All three boys were frustrated with how oblivious you could be sometimes.
"And I need you. You should come with me, so I won't suffer alone." - you pouted.
"You know we can't. Khonshu wants us to patrol the city."
"Yeah, yeah. A majestic god is more important than me, I know." - you fake huffed. - "Oh, my god! Can he kidnap me?!" - you asked excited.
'What is this little bug on about now?' - Khonshu's voice boomed through Marc's mind and he just shook his head.
"Jeez, you really hate those people don't you?"
"Even better, can he kidnap them? Or just my boss?"
"He won't kidnap anyone. He's the God of the Moon."
"And you're the protector of those who travel at night. I'm travelling to my fucking demise."
Marc laughed again.
"It's just gonna be a few hours. Steven and Jake will make it up to you."
"You're taking me there, you should be the one making it up to me."
When Marc turned to you, you had a mischievous look in your eyes. It made his mind flood with a thousand images, none of them innocent.
It was funny how you could completely miss a flirting attempt from him, but then say something like this only a minute later.
"Like how?" - he asked.
You grinned wider, but then you looked out the window again.
"Maybe Moon Knight could kidnap me."
Okay, fuck. Marc knew it wasn't healthy how that idea turned him on. You looking like that and him dressed in the ceremonial armour. Him swiping you off your feet and just take you wherever he wanted. To do whatever he wanted with you.
He shook his head a little then smirked.
"Can't. I have a reputation. I'm the good guy."
"That's too bad."
Oh, now you were just fucking asking for it, he knew it.
A few minutes later you arrived at the office and when you said your goodbyes, you hesitated for a second before getting out. Should you... hug him or kiss him on the cheek? Or would that be too much? Was he flirting back or was he just playing nice for the guys' sake?
When you realized you spent a little too much time thinking about it, you gave him a smile and a small wave and got out.
Marc sighed and watched with longing eyes as you walked inside the building, greeting a few of your co-workers who arrived at the same time.
'Why didn't you kiss her?' - Steven asked.
"I wanted her to do it."
'Have you seen her eyes, hermano? She wanted to. You know how insecure she can be sometimes, you gotta make the first move.'
Marc sighed again and drove back home to get ready for the night shift.
-----
Marc spent his time mostly staying on the rooftops, watching over the streets. He stopped two mugging attempts, but otherwise it was a quiet night. His thoughts wandered over to you, wishing the hours went by faster so he could see you again. He smiled when he realized you were probaly thinking the same, wanting to get out of that Thanksgiving party as soon as possible.
From the corner of his eye he saw Khonshu stand up suddenly on the other rooftop and he hurriedly ordered him to follow him.
Marc felt his stomach twist as he ran after Khonshu who floated above the buildings, and realized they were getting closer and closer to your workplace.
"What is it?" - he asked the god.
"I heard screams from this way."
Soon when they stopped near the building they saw that smoke was coming out of one of the windows, on the same level where the lights were turned on. Marc didn't hesitate and sprinted to the edge of the roof and jumped off, spreading his cape. Khonshu moved the night wind to help him fly to the building and just before Marc reached it, he pulled his legs up and kicked in the window before he flew in and landed inside.
The room he was in wasn't on fire yet, but smoke was coming in from the open door. When he heard screams from a few offices down, Steven yelled inside his head.
'Find her!'
Before Marc could move, he felt himself get paralyzed for a second, because someone took over the control forcefully.
The suit turned black and white and Jake sprinted out the door and started running to the end of the corridor where he could see as an orange glow was lighting up the other side of the door. He braced himself and burst through the door.
What he saw when he looked around could only be described with one word. Hell.
Everything was covered in smoke or fire. The tables, the chairs, the shelves, the curtains were burning in wild orange flames on the far side of the office and people were desperately trying to find a way out as they held a cloth in front of their faces, coughing wildly and blindly waving around in front of them to try and escape the giant office. The fire was quickly spreading and Jake ran furhter inside. His armor was shielding him from the smoke and flames, but even in his suit he could feel the heat more and more as he went further inside. He couldn't imagine what these people were feeling without anything protecting them.
He couldn't imagine what you were feeling without him protecting you.
Just when his mind was about to enter a dark place, a body slammed into his.
Jake held the man's shoulders and turned him towards the door he just came through.
"Go straight and you reach the exit!" - he instructed him and when he saw he was going the right way he turned back.
"Y/N?!" - he yelled loudly as he reached more and more people and helped them escape as he pushed burning objects out of their way. - "Y/N where are you?!"
The more he cried out for you, the more desperate he sounded.
It was hard seeing or hearing anything. The smoke and flames made it impossible to see further than a few feet, and the screaming of the people and the rumbling sound of the burning objects were blurring together.
"Jake?!"
He looked around frantically when he heard your voice.
"Y/N?!"
"We're at the window to your left!" - your speech was interrupted by several coughs and when Jake turned in that direction, he soon saw that you were trying to lift a huge drawer off someone.
"Are you okay?!" - he sprinted to you and examined your body for injuries.
Your dress was torn a few places and your arms, neck and face were covered with black patches here and there.
"Yeah! But this thing fell on Monica and I can't lift it!" - you said, coughing again.
Jake turned to her and reached down, easily removing the drawer and throwing it to the side.
"Are you hurt?" - Jake asked her as he knelt down.
"I think my left leg is broken!"
"I'm gonna carry you out, is that okay?"
She nodded and Jake tried to carefully lift her up. She cried out in pain, and he apologized in Spanish as he started walking out.
"Follow me!" - he ordered you and you grabbed his cape, letting him guide you out, but a few seconds later you heard another scream. You weren't sure where it came from but you were not going to let someone burn alive.
When Jake couldn't feel you pulling on his cape he turned around and panicked when he couldn't see you.
"Y/N?!" - he shouted loudly.
"I think I heard someone! Get Monica out!" - he heard your voice from somewhere.
"Y/N, you've got to come out, I'll come back for them!"
"Hurry!" - you yelled and when Monica whimpered in his arms, Jake cursed and quickly ran out with her.
He found some men helping the wounded and he put Monica in one of their arms.
"The firefighters are almost here!" - he informed Jake, who nodded and sprinted back inside.
He ran to where he heard your voice and called your name again.
"Here!"
He saw you further away, trying to navigate with holding one of your arms out, while you coughed into a white cloth.
He ran towards you, but before he could reach you an explosion shook the building and Jake flew several feet back.
He groaned and sat up, looking into the direction he last saw you, and to his horror he saw that the whole wall was missing and you weren't there.
"No..." - he whispered, but before he could do anything his eyes rolled back and the suit transformed into Steven's.
He ran to the side of the building and looked down, seeing you were holding onto a beam, about a floor below him, hanging above the street which was dozens of levels below you.
"Y/N, I'm coming!" - Steven yelled as he started climbing down at the side of the building.
"Steven, I'm slipping!" - you cried in panic.
The fear in your voice crushed their souls.
'Come on, Steven!' - Jake urged him, but he didn't risk taking over, they couldn't lose even a second.
'Almost there, buddy!' - Marc said.
"Hang on, love, I'm coming, I'm right here!" - he tried to reassure you.
"Please, Steven, I can feel my fingers slipping!" - you sobbed as you readjusted your hold, but you could feel them slipping again.
Steven reached the other end of the beam and he slowly stepped on it.
"I'm coming, baby, I'm coming!" - he yelled as he tried to take slow steps, fearing his weight would make the beam slip. - "See? I'm here." - he said calmer as he crouched down and reached out for you.
To the boys' utmost terror another explosion shook the building and just as Steven's fingers touched yours, you lost your grip and with a heart wrenching cry you started to fall.
"NO!" - Steven cried out as he tried to reach after you, but you were already too far.
Jake's desperate cry sounded in their head as he watched paralyzed by fear as your body was falling towards the ground with ruthless speed.
Suddenly the suit changed and Marc jumped down from the beam head first. He pushed his arms against his sides and straightened his body to create less air friction and felt that he was gaining speed, and saw that he was getting closer to you.
As your mind registered that you were going to die, you closed your eyes and prayed to not feel any pain when you hit the ground.
Just when you heard the sound of the street gaining volume, you felt two hands around you and they pulled you into a body, enveloping you in a cape, then you felt as you crashed into something. Hard.
Your ears were ringing and your vision was blurry as you slowly opened your eyes. The sound of sirens became more clear and as you gained focus, you lifted your head and looked down.
How the fuck did you survive?!
The first thing you saw was a metal crescent and hieroglyphs engraved into a chestplate.
Then it moved. Lifted up then sank back down.
"Baby?" - a shaky voice asked and you looked up, coming face to face with the glowing eyes of Moon Knight.
"Marc?" - you asked.
The hood and mask disappeared from his face and you saw tears in his eyes.
"Oh my god!" - he sobbed and sat up, then he kissed you.
Only then you realized you were still in his embrace, his arms never left your body.
He... he jumped after you. Marc jumped after you and when he caught you, he turned your bodies so he would be the one hitting the ground. Or the car - you corrected when you looked around while Marc's lips were on yours.
"You saved me..." - you breathed.
Marc pulled away and gently cupped your face, tears falling freely from his eyes.
"I did. You're safe now." - he said it like he couldn't believe it himself.
After the initial shock you let out a sound between a sob and a laugh and your threw your arms around his neck, kissing him.
Marc pulled you impossibly close as he kissed you back, happily opening his mouth when you licked his lips.
After he pulled away for air, you saw as his suit changed into the black and white one.
"Mi amor!" - Jake cried and hugged you forcefully as he buried his face into your neck.
"Jake!" - you squeezed him closer and kissed his hair. - "I'm okay now. I'm okay." - you reassured him.
"I'm so sorry, baby. I tried to go back to you, but the explosion...!" - he tried to explain as he pulled away.
"Shhh! It wasn't your fault! It was a terrible accident." - you caressed his face and kissed him softly, but Jake deepened it, needing to feel you.
"I love you so much, princesa, I love you!" - he whispered as you kissed away his tears.
"I love you too, baby. Is Steven okay?"
Jake pulled away and looked down.
"He... He doesn't wanna come out. He thinks it was his fault. He almost got you, but he says it's his fault, because he wasn't fast enough."
"No, no, no! Tell him it wasn't his fault! Steven, are you here?! Listen to me, it wasn't your fault, okay?" - you cupped Jake's face as you looked deep in his eyes. - "Please come out, baby, I love you so much!" - you pleaded as you started crying.
Jake hugged you and you buried your face in his shoulder. Soon you felt the suit change once again, and you quickly looked up when you recognized Steven's.
"I'm so sorry, love!" - he sobbed and you quickly kissed his temple and hugged him close.
"No, Steven! It was an accident! You hear? It was beyond your control! I love you so much!"
Steven hugged you back strongly and slowly calmed down as you held him and caressed his hair.
"We thought we're gonna lose you." - he whispered.
"You didn't. I'm here. I'm here forever." - you told him and kissed him. He never kissed you back with so much gentleness and care like in that moment.
"I love you, darling."
"I love you too."
You kept holding each other until two paramedics approached you. Steven quickly covered his face with the mask and after he helped you climb down from the crushed car he went back to the building to help the firefighters search the building. He returned a while later informing you that everybody managed to get out.
"Thanks to you." - you smiled at him from the back of an ambulance as you breathed in oxygen from a mask. - "They're gonna take me to the hospital. They wanna make sure the smoke didn't damage my lungs."
"Told you to come out with me, didn't I?" - Jake asked after he took over the body.
You nodded as you looked away from his glowing eyes.
Jake sighed and sat down next to you and caressed your thigh.
"You're very brave for trying to save those people, but you have to understand that you're not invincible like us. I told you I was gonna go back for them. Everybody got out, maybe no one even was in there anymore."
"Yeah." - you nodded again and Jake pushed his forehead against your temple.
"Our brave girl." - he nuzzled your ear and you finally smiled.
-----
The boys stayed with you in the hospital the whole night in their suit. They switched laying next to you, holding you while you slept. Thankfully the doctors didn't find anything wrong and they let you leave the next morning. Once outside the building the people gasped when Moon Knight suddenly picked you up and with a sudden strong wind he flew up towards the sky.
You buried your face in Marc's chest as he flew through the sky and about a minute later he landed on the roof of the building where your apartment was.
"Whew, warn a girl next time."
Marc chuckled and carried you inside and down the stairs to your door.
"Your kidnapper won't warn you either."
You grinned as you fished out your keys and opened the door. Marc put you down on the couch then his suit disappeared, leaving him in his regular clothes.
"Are you hungry?"
"I'm starving!" - you whined as you kicked off your high heels.
"Why don't you take a shower and I order something."
"Sounds good." - you said as you streched then you got up and went to the bedroom for fresh clothes.
While Marc ordered he saw you walk out completely naked. His mouth hung open as you approached him with a small smile and you pushed your body against his as you circled your arms around his neck. Your grin widened when you heard the voice on the other side of the phone asked him something three times before he answered.
"Y-yeah, double cheese." - he cleared his throat and he lifted his free hand to your waist and started caressing your smooth skin while his eyes dropped down from your face to your breasts that were firmly pressed against his chest.
"With cash."
He bit his lip and his eyes rolled back in his head when you started kissing and licking his neck. His hand slid down to your ass and he squeezed it firmly, then slapped it, making you gasp.
This time he was the one who smirked and he was more than eager to quickly tell the address of your apartment and he ended the call and threw his phone onto the couch.
"Can't find the bathroom, sweetheart?" - Marc asked and he kneaded your ass with his other hand too.
"I just need your help to wash my back." - you purred as you got on your tiptoes to kiss him.
Marc growled in your mouth and quickly picked you up, carrying you inside the bathroom.
🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨
Wow, this turned out lamer than I thought! Gonna share it anyway, cause I spent a lot of time writing it. I hope at least some of you will like it! 🤞
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i've been thinking about how it's so easy to get lost on tumblr with the mindset of like "everyone in the fandom has friends and it's only me who feels lonely" because you see all these friend groups around you and it feels very isolating sometimes. i want everyone to know that a LOT of people feel this way on tumblr (including me). i have days where i go online and i just feel very lonely like everyone doesn't want to talk to me and i'm being ignored. basically i'm making this post because i want y'all to know that it's not just you and i want to give all of you a big big hug
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Frank Castle being stubborn to admit his feelings this special girl, completely oblivious that she’s aware and feels the same way. So, she decides to invite him over for dinner to test and tease him. Sorry if it doesn’t make sense sksks I’m running out of stuff to read about Frank Castle.
That made sense! And I feel that, I need more Frank content in my life tbh I miss him!
It’s been awhile since Frank has been in a situation where he’s interested in someone or there’s sexual tension
He couldn’t have been more oblivious for a man who’s always on alert and good at reading people
You can tell he’s scared to admit that he indeed has feeling but you think you have a way to fix that
Frank is kind of hesitant to get comfortable in your home but it has been a bit since he’s had a home cooked meal and that eventually sways him
And you, well you’re making a show of the whole thing, bending down suggestively, leaving light touches on his muscled shoulders, ruffling his hair
You’re dropping hints all over the place and Frank starts to pick up on them and he nearly chokes on the pasta you made cause never would he have thought that you would be interested in him back
He’s been trying to hide the fact that he can’t stop thinking about you for weeks now and nothing has worked
You’re testing him, he can see that now but for the first time Frank Castle doesn’t have a plan or a clue about how to approach this
And then dinner is over and he helps you clear away all the plates and your hand brushed against his and he can’t lie to himself anymore
He wants you
You ask him to stay with you awhile longer, watch a movie with you and he doesn’t hesitate this time
You end up with your head on his arm and soon enough he’s pulling you closer
You know it’s gonna take a lot for Frank to come out with the words already but this is his silent way of saying yes, I want this, I want you
Frank is so used to blood and violence, it actually feels foreign yet amazing to hold someone this softly in his arms
He doesn’t ever wanna let you go
I’m SOFT I wanna give him a million hugs and kisses it’s what he deserves. He deserves softness.
@themyscxiras @dc41896 @lady-olive-oil @crushed-pink-petals @bibicarson @amelatonin @thorohdamnson @captainsamwlsn @breddiefrooks @valkyriesnymph @angry-student-student
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Hey there favorite writer
Would you be able to write something about reader and Joel having a baby together and falling in love all out of order? They’re not in an established relationship but had a one time thing and reader got pregnant. She wants to keep the baby because she feels safe in Jackson and Joel agrees to help her raise it, cuz it takes two to tango LOL. He starts falling for her during her pregnancy and she falls for him when the baby is born and she sees what a good father he is to their baby.
I’m sorry if this is a weird request I just thought it would be cool LOL
AN | Oh, but this turned out to be soft 🥰
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Pregnant!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 3k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"I'm pregnant."
The words crashed around him like a ton of bricks. Joel thought he might pass out. You looked just as distraught as he felt.
This couldn't be happening. Fuck. This was the absolute last thing he wanted to happen. It was supposed to be a one night, one time type of thing.
And now it suddenly became a much bigger thing. A potentially forever thing.
"What?" was all he could think to ask, causing you to roll your eyes in frustration.
"I'm pregnant," you repeated sharply, causing him to recoil slightly. You ran a hand through your hair, angry tears welling up, "we have sex one time and I'm fucking pregnant. It feels like some kind of horrible joke."
“Are you-”
“Don’t even fucking bother to ask if it is yours,” you glowered at him and Joel immediately regretting his decision to even ask the question. He knew you wouldn’t lie to him, even if he wished you were, “you’re the only one I’ve slept with in a long time. So yes, it’s yours.”
“Okay,” he nodded, still attempting to process everything. His mind was both blank and filled with a million thoughts all at once, “okay.”
“Look,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and tried to keep the tears from welling up and spilling over, “I’m sorry. I didn’t…I never thought this would happen. I never wanted this. And I’m so fucking sorry. But this is…the unfortunate reality.”
“I know,” he wished he could find something more comforting to say. He wished he could hug and tell you that everything was going to be alright but the truth was that he didn’t know if it would be okay. He was scared, “what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted after a few moments of tense silence, “I don’t know. I wish I did…I thought this would be such an easy choice.”
“But it’s not,” he stated as you nodded slightly.
“It’s not,” you confirmed, “I don’t even…I just figured you deserved to know, I-I guess. I don’t know; I’m just confused right now.”
“You didn’t get into this situation by yourself,” he hesitantly reached over and gave your shoulder a squeeze, “whatever you want to do, I’ll - I’ll do my best to be there for you and support you.”
“Yeah?” the way you looked at him with those teary eyes made his heart constrict. He could see how utterly scared you were.
“Yes,” he promised as managed to muster up a small smile, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come.
“Thanks,” you took a step off his porch and turned away, letting out a quiet, shaky sigh, “I’ll see you around. I’ll let you know what I decide to do.”
“Okay,” his voice cracked as he watched you go and disappear into the softly falling snow. He was half tempted to call you back and have you come in and sit in front of the fire and figure it all out, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Once you disappeared, he slowly closed the door and turned around, only to find Ellie on the stairs, her expression incredulous, “holy shit.”
“Holy shit,” he agreed. He had fucked up. Seriously, seriously fucked up.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It was a couple of weeks before you saw Joel. Or rather before you allowed yourself to face him again. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Joel, it was easier to put the reality of the situation to the back of your mind when he wasn’t around. But you also were well aware of the fact that you couldn’t ignore the situation for much longer; you were going to have to make a decision sooner rather than later.
And that’s how you finally managed to find your way back to him. He looked deep in thought when you found him coming back from patrol rounds with Tommy. His expression stiffened for a moment before he said something to his brother. The younger Miller held up his hand in a meek little wave and headed off; you cringed internally when you realized that he knew exactly what was going on.
“Hey,” you offered him a tightlipped smile as he nodded in response, “do you have a few minutes to talk?”
“Of course,” he knew what was coming, had been expecting it now and was curious to know what you had decided. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his eyes, and instead focused on the buildings behind him, “what’s up?”
“I’ve been thinking about all of this,” you gestured vaguely towards your stomach, “and I, I ugh, made a decision.”
“Oh?” he couldn’t help but feel nervous; he couldn’t even fathom what you were feeling.
“I want to keep it - the baby,” you almost whispered it and nervously allowed yourself to glance at his face. His silence sent you in a dizzying spiral, “I just…I don’t know. I just think that… I don’t know if I’ve ever really thought about a kid, especially in this world, but if there’s any time or place in this world to do it, I think it would be here. And I just…I don’t want to get rid of it. I keep thinking about it, am I making the right decision but…I keep going back to yes.”
Joel took it in what you said and it sent him down his own path of worries and fears. He thought about Sarah, about how he’d never even thought about another child, about you. It was overwhelming all at once and he stood there, staring at you. You couldn’t help the nervous laugh that bubbled up, “Joel? Say something…please. Anything.”
“I’m sorry,” he caught himself and shook his head, trying to snap back into reality, “I told you, whatever decision you made, I would support you. It’s not just…your kid. So…whatever you need or want just let me know. Anything, okay?”
“Okay,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “thank you, Joel. Listen…I, umm, I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?’ he asked softly as you shrugged lightly, “you realize there’s nothing to be sorry for, right?”
“I guess it’s just everything,” you brushed at your cheeks, wiping away the few tears that had pearled up, “I know we’re not…anything. But I’m glad you’re…you. Not many people would be doing what you are. You’re a good guy, Joel and I appreciate that.”
“It’s only what’s right,” he cleared his throat, staring at his feet. It’d been a long time since someone had told him that, “you didn’t get…pregnant by yourself.”
It’d been the first time he’d said that word out loud. He still had this weird feeling that if he didn’t say that world out loud, somehow it wouldn’t happen. But no, no. This was happening; you were here and pregnant with his child.
“Right,” you nodded shyly, “well, I guess I’ll let you get back to whatever you need to do. We still have time to figure all of this out. I’ll see you around?”
“See you around,” he whispered, watching you go with a heavy sigh escaping his lips.
Well. All of this left him with a lot to think about too. He was going to be a father again; he had no idea how he’d do. Sure, he’d been a single dad when it came to Sarah, and now he had Ellie. But a baby? That was a totally different story. He just had to hope that it would come naturally again, and that you’d be willing to do this with him. Whatever happened he knew that it wasn’t going to be an easy road.
But as he looked down the road and spotted Ellie laughing with Dina, he realized that the best things in life weren’t always easy.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The next few months went by faster than you’d liked. At the moment it seemed like every day took forever, but they rushed by so quickly. At first it hadn’t seemed so bad but as you grew bigger and rounder, reality continued to set in. You were having a baby.
It was Joel that found you as you tended to one of the gardens. You were sitting on the ground, sprawled out as best as you could, soaking up the sunshine that had finally come after the long winter. His heart ached at the sight and he felt an odd sensation run through his body, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
“Hey,” you looked up and smiled at the sound of his voice; it had been a while since he’d seen such a big and genuine smile on your face, “how’s it going?”
“Hi Joel,” you moved to stand up - a feat that was becoming harder and harder with each passing day - but he shook his head, “what’s up?”
He crouched down on his knees and started to help you without a moment of hesitation or being asked. It made your heart pitter-patter happily, “I’ve been thinking about…things.”
“Things,” you repeated as you fell into work next to him, “what kind of things?”
“All sorts of things,” you smiled to yourself when you heard his twang come out, “one thing was…that I thought maybe you could…umm, maybe move in with me and Ellie. It’s just, we have the space and that way you’d have your own space instead of sharing-”
“I have one roommate,” you answered softly, “with you, I’d have two. So, that’s not really much of a selling point.”
Joel huffed and you couldn’t help but smile; your friendship often consisted of this sort of banter, “I…well, it’s a bigger space away. And it might just be better if we were around each other, you know, in case anything happens. We’d have each other. And then…you know, once the - the baby comes it might be good to be in the same space. It’s just a thought…something to think about maybe.”
“What about Ellie?”
“She’d kick me out if it meant you moved in,” he chuckled fondly, “I think she might like you more than me. She’s…she’s excited to have a brother or sister.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from making any sound; the fact that he and Ellie had such a good relationship gave you hope that somehow all of this would work out, “oh. Oh.”
“Like I said, it’s just a thought,” you stopped what you were doing and looking at him, overwhelmed with a rush of affection towards the man, “so, yeah.”
“It’s definitely something to think about,” you agreed, unable to stop yourself from imagining a life where you had him around you everyday. Where you had your own little family with Joel, and Ellie, and the baby. But you quickly caught yourself, “thank you, Joel. That’s very kind of you to offer.”
“Of course,” his hand brushed over yours, “and if you need anything, you’ll let me know?”
“I will,” you promised, and stopped suddenly when you felt a sharp jab in your ribs, “ouch.”
“What’s wrong?” Joel’s eyes widened as he looked you over to make sure you were okay, “is it…?”
“The baby’s moving,” you explained as his face grew into a combination of excitement and nerves, “kicking me and this is one feeling I’ll never get used to.”
“Painful?”
“In a way but it’s more weird than anything,” before thinking too much about it, you took his hand and put it on your belly, right where you had felt the kicks. There was a moment of stillness and you worried that he wouldn’t be able to feel it but then you felt it again. Joel sucked in his breath as he felt the small movements under his hand. It had been another lifetime ago since he’d gotten to feel that, “they like you, Joel. They only started moving once you showed up.”
“It’s…” he didn’t even know how to put all of this into words. You, his friend, the woman he’d had a one stand with to get some pent up frustration, was pregnant with his child. And he currently felt that child moving around. Life that he had helped to create. These days he was still wrestling with a lot of feelings and emotions he thought he’d buried or moved past, but as he sat there next to you with his hand on your belly, everything made so much sense, “it’s amazing.”
“It kind of is, isn’t it?” you laughed softly, amazed to be in his situation, “what do you think it’s going to be?”
You hadn’t really thought about it much and part of you wasn’t exactly sure that you should have asked him. He seemed to be in deep thought for a few moments before he looked at with a soft expression on his face, “a girl.”
“A girl,” he answered confidently, “it’s just a feeling.”
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” you grinned, “you got a fifty-fifty chance of being right, so your odds aren’t terrible!”
“Not terrible,” he playfully scoffed, “I’m going to be right, you just wait and see.”
You were grinning at each other like fools, only interrupted with the sound of people approaching. That seemed to snap both of you out of your trance.
“I should go,” he whispered as he stood back up and dusted himself off, “see you?”
“See you,” you promised, watching him walk away. As that old saying went, you hated to see him go but liked to see him leave. You weren’t quite sure where to place your feelings, but an odd, warm sensation had bubbled up in your chest.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You wrestled with the decision of whether or not to move in with Ellie and Joel for a few days. Deep down, you knew that it really hadn’t been a question at all. Your answer had been yes from the moment he’d asked. But you, silly, silly you, still didn’t want to seem too eager. He’d gotten you pregnant, there really wasn’t any reason to be shy.
He - and a very eager Ellie - had helped you to move into the spare bedroom in their house. It really hadn’t taken much, but the community had already banded together to help you get just about everything you’d need for the baby. It wasn’t much longer until the baby was here and you were slowly growing more nervous everyday.
You were thankful to have Joel around; he made you feel safe and protected and you just…liked him. You’d always liked him, and now it felt like the more you got to know him, the more you liked him. At first you worried that it was only because of your funky hormones and the situation in general, but you knew that it really wasn’t that. It was because you genuinely liked him, enjoyed his company and…everything.
It felt odd to be developing feelings for him since you’d already done the whole ‘sleeping together and getting knocked up’ thing. The attraction had always been there, it had always been mutual, but now it felt like things were developing on a deeper level, blossoming and blooming.
You were slowly becoming more and more sure of your feelings for him, and you thought, maybe foolishly, that he might just feel the same.
But you never got the opportunity to ask him or try and read any further into it.
The night you thought you might do so, you were in the kitchen and making dinner when your water broke. Ellie had been just as shocked as you, but it was Joel that kept a calm head. Maybe it was the practice or experience or just his nature, but he managed to keep you from completely panicking and falling apart.
He’d gotten you to the hospital that had been built back up in Jackson and from then on, everything happened so fast. People really weren’t kidding when they said it all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye.
Before you knew it, it was over and you had your baby in your arms. A girl, just like Joel had predicted. He couldn’t even hide the smile on his face if he tried. You hadn’t come up with any names and decided that Joel would name her. It didn’t take long for him to come with it - Violet. You thought it suited her perfectly…and he somehow then it was your favorite flower. You’d mentioned it once in passing, and had forgotten about it, but it had stuck with Joel.
He was nervous at first - so, so nervous - about meeting her and holding her, but he quickly forgot all of that. From the moment he held her, he was in love with her and it was so clear to see. It made your heart warm and happy. Surely, this wasn’t an ideal situation and you’d really gone about things backwards, but you wouldn’t have changed a thing.
“I always wanted a family,” Ellie whispered to Joel as she held her new sister, thinking you were asleep. Joel made a small sound before he kissed the side of her head, “and now I’ve one.”
That’s when it hit you - you were a family.
Maybe not everything was figured out or said just yet, but you’d get there. All in your own time.
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Ooh what about Joel giving reader a kiss on the cheek now and then and calling her sweetheart and darling because he knows it makes her blush
Basically Joel torturing reader by shamelessly flirting with her until she finally caves and kissed him and he’s like “took ya long enough”
AN | Please!! This is so soft and fluffy 🥰
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.2k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Hey trouble,” you felt his hands on your hips as he gently moved you out of the way before you saw him. You hadn’t even heard him coming up, but he was good like that - stealthy and lethal when he needed to be.
“Joel,” your entire face turned so warm you were almost sure you could have fried an egg on it. He looked over at you as though he knew exactly what was going through mind whenever he came around. Honestly he probably did and that made it all the worse, “what’re you doing here?”
“Nothin’ much,” he took a seat at the bar next to him. You felt stupid for even asking - you were at the bar, what else would he be doing here? You wish the ground would open and swallow you whole, “thinkin’ about having a beer. What about you?”
“Same,” you’d been nursing the same beer you’d first ordered when you walked into the bar. You shrugged meekly, “long week.”
“I’d say every week is a long week,” he offered up and you couldn’t help the snort of amusement that escaped your lips. His own beer was passed over and he took it, clinking it against your own, “cheers.”
“Cheers,” you whispered softly, taking a small sip. You didn’t even really like the beer, but it was a social thing to do. Although with Joel currently sitting next to you and leaning into you, it was hard to focus on anything but him. The two of you sat in silence for some time, nothing needing to be said by either of you.
You’d always liked Joel, always found yourself gravitating to the older man, but just how much you liked him was still dizzying and overwhelming at times. But you’d never say anything - you were pretty sure you’d rather die. You didn’t really have much to offer, which is always what kept you from saying anything. Instead, you like just being his friend, which was just fine with you.
“I have to leave tomorrow,” he said suddenly, angling his body closer to yours. Your heart dropped at the idea of not being able to see him, but you tried not to let it show on your face. He chuckled softly and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “don’t get all sad on me yet - I haven’t even finished what I was saying.”
“I wasn’t…sad,” you lied although there was no reason to, “sorry - go on.”
“I have to leave tomorrow for a few days to get some supplies,” he explained, “and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?”
And then your face broke into a huge smile that you weren’t able to hide, beaming and lovely. Joel returned your smile as you tried to not let your imagination run away too wild, “you want me to come? You’re sure?”
“I am,” he nodded, “what do you think? It’s nothing much, just a lot of driving and maybe a night or two of camping.”
“I’d love to,” you agreed with hesitation; you’d probably have done anything and everything he asked of you. He perked up at your response and raised an eyebrow, almost as if he was making sure he’d heard you correctly, “when are we leaving?”
“In the morning, bright and early,” you groaned lightly and that just made him laugh a little harder, “is that going to be a problem, sweetheart?”
“I hate bright and early,” you groaned dramatically, “but I guess I’ll do it for you, Miller. Remember, I’m doing you the favor here.”
“Of course,” he nodded seriously, “and I’ll never be able to repay you. Forever in your debt.”
“Okay now you’re just being dramatic,” you rolled your eyes but there was nothing but affection behind your gesture, “well, I look forward to an adventure. Bright and early.”
“Bright and early.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You might have been panicking. Okay, you were definitely panicking. But why? You wished your mind explained that bit. You’d known Joel for several years, and had managed to be around him without any issue but the idea of spending so much time alone together and potentially small spaces just made things that much worse. You just hoped that you wouldn’t somehow manage to spill your little deep rooted secret.
“Good morning!” Joel pulled up to your place bright and early just as promised, waving as you met him at the door. You wondered for a moment what he put in his coffee, but decided not to question it too much. He came up and took your bag as you followed him and mumbled your own version of a good morning. You climbed into the truck and made yourself comfortable and he cranked up the heat for your benefit, “ready to go?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he grinned at you but paused for a moment before shifting the vehicle into drive. He reached under the seat and pulled out a blank, draping it over your lap. Your heart swelled at the gesture and you almost couldn’t contain yourself, “thank you, Joel. That’s really sweet of you.”
“I can be nice sometimes,” he winked and oh. That made the butterflies flutter in your tummy, “off we go.”
You spied the second cup of coffee sitting in the cupholder and you knew immediately that it would be made just the way you liked it. He was thoughtful like that - in so many ways.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The two of you spent most of the morning and early afternoon, passing the time with conversation about anything and everything that crossed your minds. It was all so easy with him, everything always felt so right and natural. You liked that he made you laugh and you liked making him laugh too. When he’d first arrived he almost never smiled, but he was doing it a lot more these days. And it was a lovely sight to behold.
You rested for a few hours, to stretch your legs and get some fresh air. You could feel him studying you intently, but decided not to question him. Maybe you just had something on your face, or your hair was funky…or something.
"There's a small town nearby," hed suggested, "we'll stop there for the night. Unless you'd rather rough it and make camp?"
"Can't trust just anyone these days," you shrugged, "but I'm willing to chance it instead of camping out in the wilderness."
"Good point," he agreed without much emotion. If you'd taken him up on his offer, you might have gotten to share a tent with him. Ugh. Maybe you'd made the wrong decision, "I'm sure we can find a room somewhere there."
A room. Singular. Alright, perhaps things would be okay after all.
"We'll figure it out," you agreed as you looked at the lights in the distance. He reached over and brushed his knuckles over your cheek. Your skin felt like it was on fire from even the simplest of his touches and it made you smile despite your best efforts.
The rest of the ride passed by in silence, a comfortable one at that, and before you knew it you were parking inside the small town and looking around in amazement. You knew more towns like Jackson existed but it was still amazing when you got to see them. It was like a little bit of normalcy back into your lives.
"Come on," Joel tugged on your arm as he started to lead towards the small diner, "let's get inside."
You followed his lead, trailing slightly behind him as he slid into one of the booths. You looked around and couldn't keep the smile off your face, "this place is cute."
"Hmm," he hummed in agreement, "you think about what you want to eat and I'm going to ask about where we can stay for the night."
"Okay," you watched as he slid out of the booth, enjoying the view but not before he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze.
You looked at the menu and you weren't sure how much time had passed before he sat back in the booth. Only when you looked up, it wasn't Joel sitting there.
Instead, it was a young man who was smiling brightly but managed to send an unpleasant shiver down your spine.
"Haven't seen you around before," he smirked and immediately there was a shift in the air and you did not like it at all, "I think I would have remembered such a pretty little thing."
"I…I'm not from here," you shrugged him off, "just passing through-"
"Well, I'm sure you'd like some company right?" He completely cut you off, "wouldn't want you to get lost or anything."
"I have someone," you searched the place, desperately willing Joel to just pop up, "if you don't mind."
“I’m sure no one will mind if you come with me for a little bit,” everything about this man had your blood boiling, “I can show you a good time, and you can show me a good time in return. Whaddaya say, sweet thing?”
Neither of you got the chance to say anything else before you heard the sound of a gun cocking and the cool metal was pressed to his temple. Your eyes widened in shock as you looked at a livid, furious Joel, “don’t say another word. Get out of this booth, apologize, and walk away.”
“Listen old man-”
“Now!” he shouted, causing you to jump slightly, “I won’t hesitate to blow your brains out, kid.”
“Fine,” he gingerly moved but Joel kept the gun pointed at him. You could see that the guy was genuinely nervous; you couldn’t blame him, Joel was scary when this side of him came out, “I’m sorry.”
You said nothing but gave him a subtle nod as he almost ran out. Joel kept his eye on him, before sitting down across from you again, “are you okay? Did he do anything or touch you?”
“No,” you swallowed thickly, a few tears rolling down your cheeks. Joel reached over and brushed them away, “he didn’t do anything. You got here just in time.”
“Good,” he let out a sigh of relief, “oh, my little trouble.”
“Thank you,” no one ever made you feel as safe as Joel did, “I don’t think that guy will try anything again. I think you made an impression on him.”
“Well, can’t go around and not make an impression,” he huffed bitterly, “you’re sure you’re okay?”
“Positive,” you promised, “thanks to you.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Joel had found a small little room in one of the hotels and your mouth almost dropped open when you realized it was only one bed. You set your bag down and looked before laughing nervously. It was an easy tell of yours that Joel had picked up a long time ago.
“Umm, there’s…” you trailed off and pointed at the bed, “only one.”
“I can sleep on floor, sweetheart,” he promised without skipping a beat, “its not a big deal.”
“Joel, no, don’t,” you sat at the edge of the bed and patted the space next to you, “your back is going to kill you and I can’t deal with all of your belly aching. We can share.”
“You sure?” he asked softly as you looked up at him nodded, “I won’t try anything.”
“I know,” you smiled in relief, “if there’s a man I trust, it’s you. So.”
“So.”
"Can I ask you something?" You asked so quietly that he almost didn't hear it. He sat down next to you and nodded, "why do you look at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like…I dunno," you whispered, "like the way you do."
"The way I do," he repeated softly, "which is?"
"Joel, you're so - you know what I mean," you turned to him and found that he was looking at you and very close, "oh. Like that."
“Mhmm,” he reached over and cupped your jaw with his large, warm hand, “just like that. You know what I’m about to do, don’t you?”
“Maybe?” oh yeah. You were almost positive you knew what was coming but a small part of you was still doubting that this was all real and not some wild fever dream.
And then he kissed you, just like you had imagined he would. It was soft and sweet, barely anything that would be considered mind blowing but it was just perfect. When he pulled back, you sighed softly and he pressed his forehead against yours.
After a few moments you stole a few kisses, both of you smiling shyly at each other.
“Do you understand now?” he closed his eyes and you laughed softly.
“You like me?” you asked and he just grinned.
“Mhmm,” he kissed you again, “took you long enough to catch up.”
“What if I hadn’t?”
“I would have waited,” he promised, “you’re worth waiting for.”
“Joel,” you looked at him with the embodiment of heart eyes, “do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Kiss me more,” and he had no problem with that request at all, “please.”
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Joel Miller x F!Reader
{ Main Masterlist }
Rating: M
Summary: Joel has a problem. Having settled into some semblance of a 'normal' life in Jackson that no longer involves running for his life and living off scraps, his clothes are getting a little… tight. Self-conscious, he deals with it the way he does most things - he ignores it.
That is until one day, the zipper on his jeans finally gives up after one too many desperate tugs, leaving him stuck. With neither Tommy nor Ellie anywhere to be found to get him out of the tight spot, Joel begrudgingly heads to the clothing store he’s seen in town for help - and a new pair of jeans.
There, he meets you.
Warnings: Spicy thoughts, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, body insecurity, some language, Joel being unkind to himself, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N
Word count: 6k
Notes: I haven't written anything this fast for a hot minute. It's both exciting and terrifying, especially as Joel is so new to the fandom. So this is a one-shot as it stands, but I'll be lying if I say I haven't thought about where this story can go. Please be gentle with me, Joel is easily the most intimidating Pedro boy I've written for so far. I hope this doesn't disappoint 🥺
‘TommmMMMMMYYYY!’
His voice echoes in the empty street, gruff with irritation. He can feel eyes on him - he always does, wherever he goes in this damn place - covert stares from behind curtains, peeking out of windows from the neighbouring houses.
The polished wood thumps hollowly under his fist. Head bowed in surrender, his forehead makes contact with the surface of the door with a dull thud.
‘Fuck,’ he mutters under his breath.
Trudging back to the house that’s been allocated to him - he still struggles to think of it as his - he slams the door shut behind him so hard that the sound rings in his ears. Well, more in his left than his right.
Tossing the keys onto a chest of drawers in the hallway, he yells in a last-ditch attempt, ‘Ellieeee!’
The house is silent.
The one time he needs either of them, neither can be found anywhere. Even Maria has made herself scarce - not that he’d ask her for help for this.
This being these stupid fucking jeans.
His trusty jeans that he’s worn for years, other than on laundry days, which were few and far in between. They’ve literally seen him through thick and thin - the knees are so worn he can almost see the web of white thread beneath the denim.
Tess had gotten him these jeans. Stole them, if he remembers correctly. Once upon a time, he needed a belt to hold them up, or they’d hang down to his ass crack. By the time Ellie came into the picture, they fit well enough to render the belt redundant. He could still easily fit things into his pockets though, like a map or a switchblade.
But now -
Now he’s stuck, and he can’t get them off.
If he’s being honest with himself, the jeans haven’t fit for months. The jobs in Jackson don’t come anywhere close to the backbreaking work in the QZ or being on the road with Ellie. The food is plentiful even during the harsh winter, and as much as he looks down his ideological nose at it, Maria deserves credit for the thriving commune.
He had a late start this morning. Ellie had already vacated the house by the time he came to. He was on autopilot, distracted by his thoughts about the porch steps that have rotted and need to be replaced.
He was making plans in his head to nip down to the workshop to get the wooden planks when he started getting dressed. Stepping into the legs of the jeans, he pulled them up, hopping to stretch them over his thighs. Out of habit, he sucked in his belly to button them up, the waistband seemingly even tighter than usual.
He relegated that to the back of his mind, the same way he’s ignored the fact that the jeans have been uncomfortably tight for months - to the point of hindering his movement when he lays bricks, or cuts off his breathing when he sits down. But he’s gotten used to it, like he does everything else. He’s Joel Miller with the stiff upper lip, after all.
The zipper was next. As usual, he met resistance about halfway up. Baring his teeth, he gripped the tongue of the zipper and yanked upwards.
Except this time, it didn’t budge. Grumbling, he pulled harder, feeling the burn in his biceps -
It happened so quickly that he wasn’t even aware until he was wheeling backwards from the force, his arm flying up in an arc - and a metallic clink behind him registered faintly in his good ear.
Disoriented, he glanced down at the zipper. The slider had come clean off.
‘Fuck,’ he swore and turned to the full-length mirror on the wall to inspect the damage. Running an experimental finger along the seam, it was clear that the zipper had somehow snagged on the denim. It was stuck. Dead stuck.
Turning the house inside out, he couldn’t find a single pair of scissors, and there isn’t enough space to fit a knife in without slicing himself open, at which point he left on his ultimately fruitless search for reinforcement.
Joel scrubs a tired hand down his face. He’s never been a vain guy - Tommy is that sibling. But he’s never needed to stress about his looks either, with contracting keeping him in shape before the outbreak, and the fight for survival after - until now.
Grabbing his jacket, he shrugs it on, hyper-conscious of whether it’s a tighter squeeze than usual (fortunately not) - and heads into town.
Main Street Outfitters, the only clothing store in Jackson, sits in the middle of the high street, sandwiched between the pub on one side and the welder’s on the other. For the most part, residents come in to trade in old clothes for new ones, but there’s also a nicer selection for the occasional party that one can barter for.
You’re in the workshop at the back, the afternoon sun filling the room through the skylight.
With your skill in thread and needle, you were the obvious candidate for the job when you arrived in Jackson. Over the years, it has become your sanctuary. The walls are lined with wooden shelves, where neat - though mismatched - boxes of buttons, trimmings, thread and trinkets slot perfectly into place.
You spend the days checking over incoming clothes after they come back from the laundry, making sure they are in reasonable condition and mending those that are not. The shop also charges for adjustments and repairs, and the tasks easily fill your working hours.
It’s a Tuesday, and it’s usually quiet this time of the afternoon. If you’re lucky, you can be undisturbed until you clock off at five - which is why you’re surprised when you hear the tinkle of the doorbell.
The footfall is heavy, it sounds like a strong work boot. You hold your breath and your fingers hover mid-air as the door shuts with a slam. You hear the customer clear his throat - definitely a man - as you wait in vain for the front of house to greet him.
But of course Lucy has sneaked out again. She’s a sweet girl, but manning the counter has always been too dull for her.
‘Hello?’
The voice is deep and gravelly, and despite your reluctance, it doesn’t sit well with your work ethic to keep a customer waiting. Sticking the needle into a pin cushion, you noiselessly rise from your seat and make your way to the front of the shop.
Your first glimpse of him is his back. Standing in front of a rack of jeans, the grays in his hair catch the light streaming through the shop front windows. You study him for a minute, curious eyes running over the width of broad shoulders under a beat-up, khaki jacket. Lower, his jeans are… well-worn, to put it kindly. And from sight, a sitting a bit tight on his hips -
You must have shifted your feet without you noticing. At the minutest creak of wood, the man whips around, one hand reaching behind him in search of the butt of a loaded gun or the hilt of a knife. It’s your good fortune that you see neither on him. The intensity of his gaze is just as effective as a blade on your neck to pin you to your spot.
There’s no question that he’s a newcomer. You’ve seen the same kind of intensity in everyone who’s braved what’s out there to get here.
But even if that didn’t give him away, you already know who he is. He’s Tommy’s brother. Joel, if you remember correctly. Maria approached you for some clothes a few months back when he arrived with his kid for the second time. They’ve been the talk of town since - not that you listen. In fact, you try not to, but you can’t help it if someone talks loudly enough at the next table in the canteen to interrupt your lunchtime reading.
‘Sorry,’ he mumbles as the tension in his body recedes. ‘You’re very quiet.’
You duck your head. ‘Sorry.’
‘You work here?’
Wringing your fingers nervously, you nod and take two timid steps towards him, hoping he doesn’t hear the tremour in your voice. ‘How can I help?’
You’ve heard things about Joel Miller. The words most frequently whispered as he ambles by in town include ruthless, cold-blooded and steer clear.
You can’t exactly reconcile the man in front of you with those particular words right now.
There’s nothing that speaks to ruthlessness in the way he averts his eyes and shuffles his feet, the blunt tip of his shoes catching the wooden floor. You also find it hard to believe that a truly cold-blooded person would willingly cross the country and all its horrors in search of his brother, or take a teenager under his wing.
You might not think much of yourself, but you know that your judgement of character has kept you alive so far. And your instinct isn’t telling you to steer clear of this man - quite the opposite, in fact.
But that’s neither here nor there.
He rubs the back of his neck, uncomfortable with your scrutiny. ‘Just lookin’ for some new jeans.’
‘Alright,’ you reply, taking the remaining five steps to the other end of the jeans rack, a safe distance away from him. ‘What’s your size?’
To your surprise, he huffs a sardonic laugh. ‘At least one up from whatever I have on right now.’
Sucking in a breath, you gesture vaguely at him. ‘Um, do you mind if I take a look at uh - you? So I can guess what size will fit you?’
You’re used to being the most awkward person in the room wherever you go, but this man is giving you a pretty good run for your money right now. While you divert your gaze as he unbuttons the front of his jacket, he fixes his somewhere over your shoulder to the right, grinding his teeth, as if he wishes he was anywhere but here.
Dragging your eyes back to him, you take stock of your customer as he sweeps the lapels of the jacket to the side. Underneath, the green flannel cuts off at the top of the jeans, and you see the soft pouch of his abdomen beneath the fabric. While the shirt is well-fitted, the jeans are obviously too small. The waistband bites into his sides, you can see the subtle overhang of his love handles. Even by the way he’s standing you can tell he’s uncomfortable, packed in way too tight in the denim.
And then… you really shouldn’t, but you stare at the front of the jeans. Now, you know for a fact that the fit will be just as snug there even if he goes a size up…
‘Sorry, not much to look at,’ he grunts, breaking the silence.
Taken aback by the self-derision in his voice, the words leave your mouth before they register, sharper than you mean them to be. ‘Don’t say that.’
He blinks at you. ‘What?’
You gape at him. Does he really not see? His tall, solid frame? The strong columns of his thighs? Is this man blind on top of being frustratingly attractive -?
But of course you can never say that. Instead, you pull out three different pairs of jeans in quick succession and all but throw them at him, heat prickling the tips of your ears as the disbelief that you spoke to a customer like that sinks in.
‘The dressing room is there,’ you squeak, pointing at the far corner. ‘I’ll be at the back if you need any help -’
You turn on your heels, in a hurry to get back to your workshop, but you only get halfway through the spin. It takes you three seconds to realise why - his calloused palm is on your wrist, holding you in place.
‘Actually, I do need help - I broke the zipper, and I’m stuck in these damn jeans.’
You ignore the clench of your stomach at the way he spits out the word damn. You’re not big on swearing, but the cuss word sounds good rolling off his tongue in his Southern twang.
To your horror, a giggle bubbles up your throat before you can slap a palm over your mouth.
‘I’m so, so sorry,’ you apologise profusely, heat flooding your cheeks.
You stare in consternation when those broad shoulders of his quake, a half-smile on his lips as they part in a scratchy chuckle. ‘Trust me, I’m glad I found you first. My brother or my kid would have given me a much harder time. Probably would’ve pissed their pants laughin’.’
Despite yourself, you smile back with a weak attempt at a joke. ‘I mean, I’ll try not to -’
He smirks, the corners of his eyes crinkling. ‘That’s all I can ask for.’
You lead the way to the back of the shop and Joel follows three polite steps behind, pausing by the doorway. Running practised eyes over the space, the contractor in him appreciates the well-built skylight and the sturdy furniture in the room, pieces that were clearly built to last. He places the jeans you picked out for him on the big work table, made of strong timber and aged with time.
He picked up a change in your demeanour the moment you crossed the threshold into the workshop. There’s a quiet confidence in your measured steps, the way you move speaking volumes - this is clearly your place, and you’re so much more comfortable in your skin here.
You point at the spot marked by a round, cosy rug directly beneath the skylight. ‘Could you stand there for me?’
Doing as he’s told, he startles when you march straight up to him, sliding your palms under the shoulders of his jacket to push it off. Your front brushes his chest briefly when you reach around to catch it, but not brief enough for him to ignore the soft swell of your breasts pressed up against him.
Joel is all too aware of his pulse going from zero to a hundred at the fleeting touch, the collar of his shirt suddenly a bit too tight. For fuck’s sake, Miller. It’s been an embarrassingly long time since his head has gone anywhere near there, but of course it has to happen at the most inconvenient moment.
At least you don’t seem to notice, draping his jacket over the back of a chair before retrieving a pair of tailor’s scissors from one meticulously organised drawer.
Just when he thinks he’s gotten a handle on himself, you hit him with a non-sequitur. ‘Are you wearing underwear?’
Only when Joel splutters wordlessly does the full weight of the question seem to hit you. You stutter, ‘Oh god, I didn’t - I mean - I only asked because if push comes to shove, and I have to cut through the jeans, I don’t want to ruin any underwear you’re wearing -’
You trail off, and it’s his turn to stammer, scratching an invisible itch on his elbow as he struggles to remember what he usually does with his hands.
‘No, no, I get it. I’m ahem -,’ he pauses with a cough. ‘I’m not actually wearin’ any underwear right now. Not out of habit, it’s just that I’ve been barely squeezin’ into the stupid jeans even without it.’
His honest answer seems to put you at ease, and you purse your lips. ‘Sounds uncomfortable.’
He shrugs. ‘Have been for months.’
‘I’m sorry.’
He arches an eyebrow. ‘What for?’
‘That you’ve been uncomfortable. That’s one thing clothes shouldn’t be.’
Not quite knowing how to answer you, he watches you grab a velvet cushioned footstool from under the work table and place it squarely at his feet. Then, without further preamble, you sink onto your knees in front of him, knocking the air clean out of his lungs.
As he stares down at the crown of your head, your nose at the level of his waistband, he muses that he hasn’t seen this view for a long time, a very long time. His fingers twitch at his sides, and he closes his eyes, fighting the base instinct to cup the back of your head in his palm and to pull you close -
He breathes out hard through his nostrils and clenches his jaw, casting his gaze heavenwards through the skylight as he actually prays for the first time in years.
Don’t you fucking dare get hard, Miller.
You chew on the inside of your mouth as you consider what’s before you. It’s tricky. The jeans are unbuttoned and zipped up most of the way, but the denim has been caught tight in the metallic teeth, and the handle of the zipper yanked clean off.
Cocking your head to one side, you think out loud. ‘I think we should at least try and unsnag the zipper before cutting. But we’re going to need some lubrication, and we’ll need to give it a really good, firm tug -’
The man chokes on nothing above you, and you frown up at him in a question.
Clearing his throat loudly, he asks through gritted teeth, ‘Do we have to?’
‘I mean, I can just cut open the jeans, but then you’ll definitely have to trade in something extra to cover the costs of the repairs -’
He interrupts, ‘That. Let’s do that.’
‘Alright, your call,’ you say with a nod. ‘Can you hold up your shirt?’
You try not to gawk when he draws up the tails of his flannel, revealing his soft stomach underneath. The mid-rise jeans cut off beneath his belly button, and you eye the trail that sneaks full and dark under the waistband. He’s obviously sucking his tummy in, and you catch yourself wishing he doesn’t feel like he has to.
You bite your bottom lip. ‘Do you think you can fit a couple of fingers into the waistband so I can slide the scissors in? They’re sharp, I don’t want to cut you.’
You watch as he tries, first his index finger, then his middle, but he can barely squeeze in beyond the nail, which turns completely colourless from the pressure. He sighs in surrender. ‘Mfraid you’ll have to, sweetheart.’
You have to close your eyes for a moment, your head swimming. You’re not sure whether it’s from the sweetheart, or the fact that he wants you to stick your hand down the front of his pants.
Well, not exactly that he wants you to. And not your hand. But still.
You squeak. ‘Do I have to?’
He pins you a sarcastic arch of his eyebrows. ‘Well, if you’re sure that you won’t cut my dick off -’
Your face heats up at his blunt words, falling back onto your haunches. ‘Great, now you’ve got me worried -’
Palms up in apology, he shrugs. ‘Sorry -’
‘No, no, you’re right. I don’t want to accidentally castrate you,’ you sigh. ‘Are you - um - well adjusted in there?’
‘I’d go down the right side of the zipper,’ he answers diplomatically.
Taking a deep breath, you ask, ‘Ready?’
‘Whenever you are, sweetheart.’
The first contact is the brush of your knuckles against his stomach, the skin warm and soft on the back of your fingers. You don’t dare look up, but you can feel his eyes on you as you burrow your index finger under the waistband. Though it’s a squeeze, you manage to wriggle in nail side down, creating a small gap - still not quite enough to get the scissors in without nicking him.
Talking more to yourself, you mumble, ‘Better safe than sorry. Let me just get one more finger in -’
Joel chokes so hard that you almost jump back in fright, frowning at him as he catches his breath. ‘Are you okay? Do you need some water?’
His voice tight, he shakes his head. ‘No, I’m fine.’
You wait a beat to make sure he doesn’t go into another coughing fit. When the coast is clear, you gesture at his jeans. ‘Can I just -’
‘Get one more finger in?’ he finishes your sentence in his raspy baritone.
You finally hear it when he says it like that. And oh god, your ears burn as you stare up at him, lips parted, torn between outrage and a very disorienting arousal. ‘You - you -’
A wicked smirk tugs unexpectedly at the corner of his mouth. ‘I already tried, sweetheart. My fingers are too big to fit inside.’
The touch of playful condescension in his tone has your jaw going slack, and your brain practically short-circuits at the thoughts of where else they are too big to fit inside of -
So as it turns out, you’re brave, or just downright stupid, when you’re turned on. Next thing you know, you hear yourself telling him off. ‘I could just leave you in those jeans you know.’
Joel smiles wider, and retorts, ‘I don’t think you would.’
‘Just because I’m shy doesn’t mean I don’t have a mean streak,’ you shoot back.
He seems pleased to have lured you out of your shell, grinning down at you. ‘Believe me, I’m shakin’ in my boots, sweetheart.’
It’s really unfair that he looks this good from where you are on your knees. His eyes are hooded, curls flecked with grays sweeping his forehead. Even though the apocalypse has left its marks on him in wrinkles, frown lines, and smudged bags under his eyes, it has clearly not taken away from that proud nose or plush lips -
Steadying yourself with a deep inhale, you shake yourself out of it. With an in, it’s slightly easier to push in your middle finger into the waistband to widen the gap. Happy with the quarter inch of space, you hold up the scissors. ‘I’m ready to cut if you are.’
He nods his acquiesce. ‘Do your worst.’
Opening up the scissors and carefully fitting the blade beneath the denim, you carefully begin snipping away. They are sharp, but the fabric is tough and you’re conscious of the very tight fit, so you take it slow.
You pause when you’re a couple of inches in, when Joel lets out a groan of relief. Absent-mindedly, you run a soothing thumb over the angry, red indents the waistband dug into the soft pouch of his tummy, sending a shudder through him.
‘Sorry,’ you squeak, snatching back your hand as if he burns you.
Too preoccupied with the relief of being able to breathe, Joel shakes his head. ‘Don’t be. Just keep going. Please.’
Why is that one word - six letters - making your breath hitch?
Gripping the top of the now open fly and pinning it against his body so you don’t accidentally see anything you’re not meant to see - whether you want to deliberately is a completely different matter - you hunker down and keep cutting along the zipper.
Each snip gets easier as the jeans release their death grip on him. The right side of the fly falls away as you cut, the denim peeling back slowly to expose the skin underneath. Your eyes drift to the curve of the pubic bone that’s now completely in view, and it’s taking everything you have to not lean over and run the broad of your tongue along it -
How long has it been since you’ve been with a man? When was the last time you had someone stand before you, pants unzipped and hanging open -
With tremendous fortitude, you tear your eyes away to check on him, ‘All good?’
The grunt of respite that he lets out is almost guttural, going straight between your legs. ‘Feels so fuckin’ good to breathe.’
‘Before I keep going, do you want to - uh - rearrange yourself?’
You expect him to turn around, or at least give you a second to turn around to give him some privacy, but he’s obviously been too deprived of oxygen to think straight. One big palm snakes down his front, right in your face, and he cups himself through the denim.
You stop breathing, eyes wide as he adjusts himself.
Holy fuck.
When he’s done, he gives you a thumbs up. ‘All good.’
This is it. You’re not making it out of this alive.
You can barely get the words out, your throat suddenly drier than sandpaper. ‘Can you, um, hold up the other side of the fly?’
When he does, you stare at his hand next to yours. How is it so big? The veins are prominent on the back, leading down to thick fingers, the nails neatly trimmed and clean - but you bet there’s residue gunpowder underneath.
There’s still a slither of skin peeking through the V of the fly as the scissors slice through the denim, following his happy trail. The lower you go, the thicker and darker the curls, and goddamnit - what is wrong with you - all you can think about is burying your nose right in there, nudging through the hair, lower and lower and lower still -
A sharp pain on your left finger makes you yelp, the scissors falling from your other hand to the floor with a loud clang. A small bead of blood wells up on the tip where the sharp blade nicked it, and in a panic, you let go of his jeans.
‘Shit,’ Joel curses and covers himself up quickly, his brow furrowed in concern. ‘You okay?’
You nod in embarrassment while you get on your feet. ‘I - my hand just slipped. It’s nothing, the smallest cut, I’m fine -’
Well, to be fair, you were fine - until he grabs your left wrist, brings your hand up to his face and sucks your bleeding fingertip into his mouth.
As if it’s the logical thing to do.
Your knees buckle, and you collapse into his front, but he doesn’t even budge, as if you weigh nothing. Taking a deep breath - wood smoke, simple soap and man fill your lungs. Peering up at him through your lashes, you spot the silver flanking the hinge of his jaw, leading down to a peculiar bare patch on the left side of his beard.
He watches you back as he releases your finger with a wet pop. Tracing his bottom lip with his tongue, he pronounces, ‘Just a small cut. You’ll live.’
Will you though? Because it feels like you’re on the verge of expiring from breathlessness.
He glances down at his front, which he’s still holding up. ‘I guess I can get out of these now.’
It takes you three seconds to catch up before you stumble backwards. ‘Yes, of course. Sorry.’
‘Thank you for freeing me,’ he says with a lopsided smile.
You duck your head, unable to meet his gaze all of a sudden - hypocrite, you had no problem perving on him a minute ago - and nod at the jeans on the table. ‘Why don’t you try those on?’
He clears his throat. ‘I, uh, should probably put on some underwear first.’
You barely manage to hold back from smacking yourself on the forehead. ‘Of course. We do have some in stock. Boxers or briefs?’
He looks amused. ‘What do you think, sweetheart?’
You hesitate, but you force yourself to be brave and venture a guess. ‘Boxers.’
He winks, and you grin back.
Joel hovers uncertainly in front of the mirror in the fitting room, having exhausted all the angles he can see twice, and wonders if he’s been dithering for too long. He’s not even sure what he’s looking at anymore, so he bites the bullet and draws back the curtain.
‘How do they feel?’ you ask.
He was counting on some hint from you, but you give nothing away. So he shrugs, hands on hips. ‘I honestly can’t tell you.’
‘May I?’
At his nod, you step into his space, and he watches as you hook your fingers into the belt loops on either side of the jeans and pull them up, as if gauging the size. He holds his breath as your hair grazes the front of his chest.
‘They’re a bit loose, to be honest,’ you tell him.
He scoffs self-decrepatingly. ‘Probably not for long at the rate I’m going.’
You take a step back and level him with a glare. ‘Stop it.’
He frowns, hackles rising. ‘What?’
‘Stop putting yourself down.’
That he didn’t expect. He protests, ‘I’m not putting myself down -’
‘Yes, yes, you are,’ you interrupt him with a boldness that has his eyebrows reaching for his hairline. With fire in your eyes, you go toe to toe with him, poking him in the chest with a firm finger. ‘You’re alive, you’re safe here, and you’re fit as hell. If you’re going to make fun of yourself for putting on a bit of healthy weight, you can go ahead and get out of my shop.’
Warmth blooms in his chest as Joel stares down at you, breathing heavily after your little speech but showing no intention of backing down. You don’t know him, but for some reason, you’re fighting his corner.
That shouldn’t feel as good as it does.
Pursing his lips, he towers over you as he teases, ‘You think I’m fit as hell, sweetheart?’
With a roll of your eyes, you walk backwards to the shelves, rummaging through the sizes before returning with a pair of dark wash jeans. You quip, ‘Don’t fish for compliments, it’s unbecoming.’
You snap the curtain shut in his face with a flick of your wrist before he can answer, and he chuckles to himself as pulls on the jeans you picked out for him.
When he pushes open the curtain again, Joel doesn’t miss the way you pause as you stare.
The waistband sits on his hips without cutting into his stomach, and he’s pleased that he can comfortably slide his hands into the pockets. The denim wraps firmly, but not tightly, against his backside, holding his thighs comfortably and falling straight down to the ankles. The wash is dark and flattering, smarter than his old ones.
When the silence has stretched on long enough, Joel shifts on his feet and asks, ‘Well?’
You turn the question back at him. ‘What do you think?’
He shrugs. ‘They’re alright, I guess.’
With a tilt of your head, you prompt, ‘You can say it, you know.’
‘Say what?’
‘You can say that you look good.’
Joel huffs, shaking his head and catching his reflection in the mirror as he does. At your look of insistence, he reluctantly parrots back, ‘Alright. I look good. Happy, sweetheart?’
Then you smile, really smile, and he feels himself soften - his eyes, his face, his mouth, his fucking old, rickety knees -
Suddenly, the bell over the door rings and a woman bustles in. ‘I’m so sorry, Pin! I know I’ve been gone a long time, but I got your favourite tea to make it up to you -’
She stops abruptly when she spots him. ‘Hey! You’re Joel Miller, aren’t you?’
Before he can answer, she crosses the shop in a bundle of energy, sticking her hand out. ‘I’m Lucy, I’m a friend of Tommy and Maria’s. It’s so nice to finally meet you.’
He lets her shake his hand, then she continues without skipping a beat. ‘How are you settling in? You got that house in the street near the stables right? It’s great, it’s quiet but not too far from everything -’
Since she doesn’t seem interested in his participation in this conversation, he doesn’t. But he notices, with regret, the way you start to retreat, the shyness making a return in the shadow of her clearly more outgoing friend - like a bad habit.
He’s suddenly aware of a lull, and that Lucy is looking at him expectantly, like she’s just asked a question that he didn’t hear.
‘Yeah sure,’ he replies dismissively, stopping you with a hand on your wrist just as you try to slink away unnoticed. ‘Hey, wait a second -’
To Lucy’s credit, she picks up on the snub and the energy between the two of you at the same time. Instead of taking offence, she gives you a knowing look and points towards the back diplomatically. ‘You know what Pin, I just bumped into Maria and she asked me something about our fabric inventory, so I better go check it out. I’ll see you around, Joel.’
With a wink in your direction, Lucy makes herself scarce, leaving the tea on the counter for you.
Joel’s quiet for a beat when you’re left alone again. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to run off your friend, but I just wanted to uh - thank you. For all this.’ He pauses, then adds, ‘Like she said, I’m Joel. Probably should’ve introduced myself before I asked you to cut me out of my jeans.’
You quip, ‘There’s always next time.’
He chuckles, and asks, ‘Did your friend just call you - Pin?’
‘It’s just a silly nickname,’ you explain. ‘As in pins and needles, for obvious reasons.’
Then you give him your real name and your hand, his palm warm and calloused against yours as he shakes it firmly. When he lets you go, you notice the watch on his wrist, the veins of broken glass on the face catching the light.
Nodding at it, you ask, ‘Do you need that fixed? There’s a repair guy down the road who can fix anything.’
Confused for a moment about what you’re referring to, Joel pauses before realisation dawns on him. His answer is suddenly polite, a stark contrast to the light-hearted conversation just now. ‘No, I - I like it this way. But thanks.’
You don’t miss the emotional weight behind his words, and the air thickens with unspoken meaning, but you know better than to ask.
‘I understand,’ you say simply.
Everyone has something like the watch is to him. God knows you do. A moment of quiet understanding passes between you, one that needs no words.
Breaking the silence, he says, ‘So, you mentioned I’ll need to trade in something else for these jeans -’
You dismiss that notion with a wave of your hand. ‘Oh no, it’s ok. I got it.’
‘You don’t have to -’
You shut him down. ‘It’s not a big deal, it will take me two minutes to replace the zipper.’
He hesitates. ‘And the boxers -’
Passing him his jacket, you insist, ‘Seriously, Joel, don’t worry about it.’
His fingers brush yours when he takes it from you and shrugs it on. You try not to look too conspicuously when the bottom of his shirt draws up, flashing a bit of tummy, but it’s gone too quickly. With a nod, he concedes reluctantly, ‘You really shouldn’t, but thank you. I owe you one.’
You roll your eyes with no real exasperation as you walk him towards the exit. ‘I know you haven’t been here for long - that’s just how things work around these parts. We do things for each other, you don’t owe me anything.’ Pulling the door open, you give him one last grin. ‘Welcome to Jackson, Joel.’
‘Thanks, Pin,’ he says as he crosses the threshold. He pauses on the porch and looks around the high street slowly, as if he’s taking it in for the first time. He then turns to you with a parting wink that is charged with easy confidence. ‘I think I’ll like it here.’
You linger by the door, leaning against the frame as he jogs down the front steps with a swagger, watching in appreciation at the way his new jeans frame his backside. You smile when he slides his hands into his pockets as he walks away, the afternoon breeze ruffling his curls and the sun warming his broad shoulders.
You think you’ll like him here as well.
Notes: As I was writing this, I couldn't help thinking that it reminded me of Grays 🙈 What can I say? I want to give middle-aged men in need of self-love all the reassurance that they need. I hope you enjoyed Pin and Joel's meet-cute, I'm honestly so nervous about this fic I had to stop myself from compulsively over-editing.
Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated as always 🥰
P.S. Apparently, there is a Main Street Outfitter in the game, so I ran with it.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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hushed sex while staying in the guest room of another’s home. With Joel pleeeease?
you're trying to kill me but i appreciate you. 💙
warnings: smut, obvs.
“You gotta be quiet, Sweetheart.” Joel rasps, peppering kisses along your neck. “Don’t need Tommy teasing us tomorrow morning over breakfast now do we?”
Your sweltering heat envelops his cock as he languidly saws his hips back and forth. Joel knows it’s a stupid idea. His brother, Tommy was sleeping just on the other side of the wall. He knows how vocal you are every time he gets his hands on you but he just can’t stop himself.
“You look so pretty trying to keep those whines at bay.” He murmurs, hooking an elbow under your knee. He teasingly brushes that sensitive spot that always makes you writhe.
His name leaves your lips in a frantic gasp as your belly twists with blissful desperation.
“What’d I say, pretty girl?” A heavy hand smothers your dry, parted lips, spanning the width of your jaw easily cutting off your sinful mewls. “Shh. You can take it.”
Your head twists from side to side as you try to stave off the pleasure. The rough grind of his cock is devastating and drives you to the edge too quickly.
“Do you want to wake Tommy up? Have him see you like this?” Joel admonished.
Air punches from your lungs at the impure thought of his brother walking in on the two of you. You’d always found the younger man attractive and charming. You’d be silly to not want to be sandwiched between them.
Slick drips between your cheeks and into the mattress below as he steadily drives his length into your soaked warmth. A muffled moan vibrates his hand and he hisses as you lock down around him. “Shit- You liked that idea. Fuckin’ naughty girl.”
Joel tilts his hips and drives every savage thrust across that special spot intent on making you cum. Your chest heaves and your jaw goes slack as your orgasm begins to peak and ignite every nerve in your body.
You’re grateful for Joel’s heavy palm until he catches your eye with a smirk. Your heart pounds against your ribs as he lifts his hand from your lips. “Let’s see if you can wake him.”
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notre dame
joel miller x platonic!reader, ellie williams x platonic!reader
summary: the old church tower isn't empty.
warnings: body horror(emaciation, infected wounds, past diy amputation), child abandonment, she/her afab reader, as body description neutral as possible, post episode 8
author's notes: the inspo for this song is notre dame by paris paloma. if this is shit, it's because i haven't written fic in years. but tlou has had a chokehold on me since the second game came out and the hbo adaptation is only making it worse, so now we have this.
The town was quiet. Snow blanketed buildings half-collapsed under the weight. No cracking of ice under feet other than their own.
The town was empty. Doors were open and food sat half-eaten on tables still set for families. Toys laid abandoned on porches and streets.
Ellie shivered. "It's creepy as fuck here." Joel glanced at her. Ellie's body was tense, her neck still decorated with purple, all remnants of him. He sighed and pointed to the only building still intact.
"We'll rest there for now, at the church. You got your knife?" Ellie raised an eyebrow. "Right. Keep it ready. I can't hear any infected but with the way this town looks, people might still be lurking around." Joel shifted his rifle to his hands and Ellie followed behind with her knife tight in her hands.
Joel jiggled the church's door handle. "Locked."
"I can find a wind-" Ellie began, cut off by Joel ramming the butt of the rifle into the lock. "Or you can just do that and, you know, let whoever the hell is still here know exactly where we are," she snarked. Joel gave her one of his patented 'your sarcasm isn't appreciated right now' looks and stepped through the church's threshold.
Its walls were filled, top to bottom, with drawings. They were crude, mostly stick figures and fields with poorly sketched flowers.
"The fuck?" Ellie breathed. The air smelled of copper, of old blood and infection.
The rafters above them creaked, jolting Joel from his mind. He pushed a pliant Ellie behind him. Joel hefted his rifle up and pointed it to the rafters.
Above them, hanging from the rafters, looking down, was a kid. Her eyes were big compared to her sunken cheeks, her skin sallow. Joel blanched and lowered his gun.
"Hey, kid. Wanna come down from there? We have food and blankets?" Joel's voice was softer than it had been in a long time. The kid's eyes widened. She scrambled down, slipping toward the end of the climb. Her brow was furrowed in concentration as she tried to right herself, and Joel's attention was drawn to her elbow or lack thereof. A bandage was wrapped around it, some time of old maroon cloth. The kid clawed her way upright and tilted her head to the side.
"Who are you?" Her voice was quiet and raspy. Ellie stepped out from behind Joel and kneeled down.
"I'm Ellie. What's your name?" The kid smiled and her voice was light as she whispered her name. "That's a pretty cool name. Grumpy behind me," Ellie jutted a thumb in Joel's general direction, "is Joel. He's been taking care of me for a while and maybe he can help you, too."
The kid nodded and she sat down to begin. "I remember a man walking down the street and he looked really sick. I wanted to help him but when I reached out, he bit me." Joel's hand tightened around his gun, not quite lowering it. "My parents started screaming and they pulled me inside. They took a long, pointy thing and moved it around my arm. It really hurt." Her eyes started to go glassy. "I didn't feel good so I went to sleep. Then I woke up here with some food and water and when I tried to open the door, it wouldn't open." From his closer vantage point, Joel could see the bandages weren't red, but blood-soaked.
Joel sighed and put his gun and backpack down. "Can I help you try and feel better?" She nodded. Joel gave a small smile and opened his pack, pulling out his ratchet first aid kit. He reached for her arm and removed the bandages. The sharp scent of infection hit him, not cordyceps, but something infallibly human. The skin was red, hot, and puffy, and the sutures were done quickly and sloppy. The actual cut was tinged green and white. He grimaced.
Ellie shifted closer to the kid. "Do you wanna hold my hand? This might hurt a bit." She nodded frantically and held on tight. Joel cleaned the area and tried to redo the stitches as gently and as fast as possible. The kid's brow was furrowed but she gave no evidence of discomfort other than her white-knuckled grip on Ellie.
Once Joel pulled out the syringe and penicillin, the kid shifted in her seat. "Do you want to eat something while we do this? Maybe it'll help distract you," Joel offered. He passed her a bag of jerky Ellie had scavenged. She took it happily and copied Joel's exaggerated breaths to calm her. He quickly pressed the needle into her upper arm and plunged the medicine. The kid's focus was on eating her jerky, listening intently to whatever bullshit Ellie was rambling about.
The girl looked up at him once he was done and grinned with half-lidded eyes. "Go to sleep, kid. We'll be here when you wake up." Joel murmured. She took it as an invitation to burrow her head into his thigh, searching for the warmth she had been deprived of for who knows how long. He glanced back up towards Ellie.
"Can we keep her?"
tagged:
@heartpascal
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— don’t take the girl ⁀➷
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when faced with a life-threatening choice, joel miller makes a surprising confession.
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☆ | joel miller | 1.5k | ❛ don’t take the girl - tim mcgraw ❜
warnings: fluff. slight angst. lowkey soft!joel miller. murder. kissing. age gap.
❝ take the very breath you gave me, take the heart from my chest. i’ll gladly take her place if you’ll let me, make this my last request. take me out of this world, god please, don’t take the girl ❞
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HE DIDN’T MEAN TO BECOME SO ATTACHED.
Joel could remember the very first minute he met you. The shade of the alleyway casting a low tone over your soft features, a small scrape on your cheek just below your eye.
Tess had taken you in, explaining that you were the daughter of an old friend from way before all the chaos and destruction. That she remembered meeting you when you were just a baby, barely cooing out words with small chubby fingers that wrapped around her own. That you’d lost your mom a while ago, and had no one else. That you’d been on a mission to find Tess for a long time.
He didn’t like you at first. Thought you were too soft. It annoyed him how persistent you were, always hovering around him and Tess. Always there. He didn’t like how young you were, and he was convinced that you’d somehow fuck up one of their deals if you were there, or that you’d somehow get killed in the process. Or worse, get him killed.
It wasn’t until he saw you in action that he gave in a bit. Saw how you’d really survived all those years on your own. Saw how you ripped yourself free from a raider on one of their trips out of the QZ, how you’d so effortlessly pulled your knife across the taut skin of the raiders throat, blood splattering onto the soft apples of your cheeks as you watched the man fall, no emotion crossing those deep eyes of yours that always seemed so expressive. They were blank in that moment, as if you had watched a man’s life leave his body a million times. As if you were used to it.
He couldn’t believe how you’d smiled at him so softly that same night while a fire flickered between the two of you, mere hours after the whole scene. How could you still be so sweet after killing a man as if it were plain sailing?
He couldn’t help but let his mind wander to a darker place. How many people had you killed?
He didn’t like to think about such a kind young woman slashing a man as if he were a bug she were squishing.
After that, he began letting you come on runs with him.
It was supposed to be a routine mission in the city, grabbing supplies and trades at a drop point to smuggle back into the QZ. Neither of you were expecting a struggle, not to mention an ambush, but in the world you lived in the unexpected always seemed to happen.
Inside the drop point, which was an abandoned warehouse, rotting and dilapidated, you’d let your guard down. Your gun was placed on an old crate as you poked around while Joel, only a few feet away from you, checked to make sure everything that had been promised was delivered.
You didn’t see the man coming up behind you, didn’t hear his uneven breaths or the crunching of old glass beneath his feet.
He grabbed your arm, nearly tearing your shoulder out of it’s socket as he pulled you like a shield across his chest. The cold barrel of his pistol pressed against your temple, his grip like iron, bruising your supple skin.
Joel heard the struggle and whipped around instantly, eyes wild and frantic as he held his gun out in front of him, not sure where to aim that wouldn’t get you shot in the crossfire.
“Put your gun down!” The man behind you screamed, his voice so loud that your ear drums rang. You watched everything in slow-motion as Joel carefully put his rifle down, raising his hands as he did so. A stray bead of perspiration ran down your spine.
“Just let her go, n’we can talk,” Joel attempted to reason, but was met with silence broken by the mans ragged breaths as he pressed the gun further into your temple, the metal creating a building pressure in your head, leaving an imprint in its wake.
“There’s no talking here,” The man spat, “Someone ripped me off. I don’t know who it was, but somebody here is paying for it. It’s either you or the girl, old man. You choose.”
Your pulse quickened as your eyes trained on Joel, who’s face wrinkled as he tried to figure out some sort of solution. You tried to speak with your eyes, tried to tell him that it was okay. That he could get out of here and take the stuff back to the QZ, and leave you to your fate. You were fine with it.
But Joel wasn’t. “I’ll take her place, if you’ll let me,” He said quietly, his words slicing through you. “Just please, don’t take the girl.”
You wanted to scream at him, but you stayed quiet, lips locked shut and body shaking with fear and adrenaline.
You heard the gunshot, and your eyes closed on impact. You only inched them open when you felt the pressure on your head leave, and heard the sound of a body hit the floor. When your eyelids lifted, there stood Joel, small handgun that was presumably in his back pocket resting with it’s aim towards the floor, his hands shaking.
You slowly looked to the ground beside you, and there laid your assailant, blooding and bits of brain pooling on the concrete around him with a fresh hole in his forehead. The gun that had been so dangerous in his hands only moments ago now laid slackly in his limp palm.
“Goddamn it!” You could faintly hear Joel yell, his words falling on deaf ears. “See this—This is what i was worried about.”
Joel was in front of you in an instant, rough hands cupping your cheeks as he examined you for any sort of injury, eyes lingering on the crisp indent from the barrel that stayed on your temple.
“I thought i’d lose you,” He breathed out softly, anger leaving the bones of his body, hot air fanning your face as he fought to calm down his anxiety. He pulled you into him, surprising you as he wrapped his arms around you in a bone-crushing hug.
Your voice was muffled against the flannel of his shirt. “I thought you didn’t like me.”
“I’d have traded places with you in an instant.” His words were heavy against the shell of you ear, and you pulled away from his grasp, eyes studying him carefully. There was no denying the terror that still lingered in the dark hue of his iris’, and how deep his worry lines were creased as he frowned down at you.
“You’re around so much that I—I can’t imagine what it’d be like if you weren’t,” He continued, “Don’t want to.”
“I would’ve given him everything i had,” He carried on, “Would’ve given him the damn heart out of my chest if it meant he’d take my life instead’a yours.”
You figured this was Joel’s messed up version of a confession. So, without words, you kissed him, and he deepened it with long buried affection and protectiveness. Two things you didn’t think Joel Miller was capable of.
“Let’s get out’f here,” He said after he had pulled away. His words brought you back into the atmosphere, struggling to tame your wildly beating heart as you remembered the dangerous predicament you could potentially still be in. “Don’t know if it was just him, or if there’s more.”
You nodded, taking one of the duffle bags of supplies onto your shoulders. It made you lean to the side slightly from the weight, and a rare chuckle escaped Joel’s lips. He took the bag from your shoulder, putting both onto one arm and slinging his rifle onto the other.
“I got it,” He said, “Jus’ watch my six.”
During the trip back to the QZ, it seemed as if nothing had changed between the two of you. But it did. There was a newfound tension in the air, one that spoke of the kiss you shared in the warehouse, and how Joel would lay his life on the line for you. It sparked with the electricity of intimacy and a fucked up version of love.
It was an unspoken agreement between the two of you that neither of you would tell Tess about what had happened. About the ambush, or the kiss. But you and Joel would know. You and Joel would know that there was now some sort of feelings between the two of you. A new connection that would be acted upon on late nights and moments alone together. The kind that was shared within knowing looks and small grins to one another. Fleeting touches when no one’s watching, and memorized whispered pleas of trading your life for his.
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Imagine Marc and Steven arguing over who gets to have the first kiss.
Title: Fifth Times the Charm
Summary: You're trying to figure out why your lovely boyfriends Marc and Steven haven't kissed you yet.
Word count: ~1800
Warnings: Possible Moon Knight spoilers if you haven't seen it all, just fluff otherwise. Not really beta read lmao
Timeline: Sometime after season 1, no mention of anything in the series or Layla and Khonshu. Legit just domestic fluff/humour.
The header below just signifies a change in POV, not a time gap.
You'd been seeing them for over a month and neither of them had made any kind of move on you. You'd leaned in a few times on different dates, thinking that the moment was just right to have your first kiss but both Marc and Steven seemed oblivious to your intent and turned away, attention caught by a noise or movement nearby. After the first couple of tries you shrugged it off and figured they wanted to take things slow--this was new territory for all of you.
But twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern, what makes four?
Rejection. At least that's how it felt when you'd reached up to cup Stevens face and finally meet his lips with yours and he leapt from your couch mumbling something about needing to use the restroom.
You slumped your shoulders and crossed your arms, sinking further into the cushions as you heard him turn the water on. You checked your breath by breathing into your hand, pressed your fingertips to your cheeks to make sure there was no stray food somehow left from dinner, and found everything was fine.
So why the HELL wouldn't either of them kiss you?
You stood, hands in fists at your side as you worked up the courage to ask the boys outright what was going on. If they didn't like physical touch they could tell you, you'd be fine with it--and it would make everyone more comfortable than you constantly missing kisses like some Bugs Bunny antagonist.
You moved to the bathroom door, knowing full well that Steven was just hiding in there with the sink on. But before you could knock you heard him speaking in hushed tones.
"We've got to figure this out now!" he hissed. A pause. "They've already tried twice tonight, they're going to think we hate them!"
Another pause.
"No," Steven said, "I will not give you the body; this is my date. They invited me over for a movie night and I-I think that means that I should get to be the one to...to..."
"Kiss," Marc finished. "To kiss them. If you can't even say it then why are you the one doing it?"
"I can say the word," Steven argued, hands clasped together to ease his anxiety. "I just started thinking about it, and them and..."
Marc sighed in the mirror, hands on his hips. He understood Steven's feelings too well. You were his first serious relationship with anyone that knew about Steven--and you were far too easy-going about it; even when you learned about the mysterious second alter you didn't run for the hills screaming. You just said you'd help him figure it out and that was that. Both he and Steven were hooked.
"I'm just saying I have more experience in the area," Marc argued. He crossed his arms, raising his nose in the air despite only being a reflection at the moment.
Steven frowned and tried not to roll his eyes. "What, you think I'll kiss them and that'll be what sends them off, yeah?"
"No, that's not--"
"They've tried three times with me and only once with you, so--"
"That you know of."
"What?" Steven pressed his hands onto the ceramic sink. "What does that mean?"
"You aren't the best at reading people," Marc admitted softly, but there was a hint of condescension in his tone as he teased Steven. "You don't know how many times they've tried, really."
Steven's frown deepened. "So what do you suggest we do? Because only one of us is going to get the first kiss."
Both men thought about how this would sound to anyone but them. But they were equals in the relationship with you, and somewhere inside themselves they felt like whoever you kissed first you might...like better? Ridiculous, but then it sort of turned into a childish competition. And neither of them wanted to go to you and ask who you wanted to kiss first, it would be unfair to everyone involved.
Marc and Steven stared at each other when you knocked on the door. Steven quickly turned off the sink , unsure of how much time he and Marc had wasted arguing while you were out in the living room ready for a damned kiss.
Steven bit his bottom lip as he remembered the way you stroked a hand down his cheek and lifted yourself towards him on the couch--he'd been about to give in when Marc yelled at him to get his ass up and away from you.
And when he opened the door there you stood, staring at him with your eyebrows arched and lips pouted. The concern on your face was more worrisome than anything.
Right twits we are, he thought to himself.
"Are you...okay?" you questioned.
Steven watched you for so long without a word you almost thought it was Marc. But when his fingertips tapped together you knew who it was. You quickly stammered, "Sorry, I'll let you guys talk."
Your own ramblings continued as you spun on your heel and started to walk away. If you'd faced them long you would have seen Steven's eyes roll to the back of his head as his neck snapped back, his relaxed shoulders tensing as someone else took over.
His hand wrapped around your wrist and spun you back towards him, his other arm going around your waist and hugging you close. Then the same hand that had grabbed your wrist went behind your neck and pulled your lips against his own. You jumped in surprised, but both arms held you steady as your eyes closed and you kissed him back. You thought it was Steven, since you'd just spoken with him, but the intensity that radiated off the man holding you was too strong for Steven.
He bit your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, more than willing to deepen the kiss and allow him entry. The arm around your waist tightened, your own hands going from holding onto the front of his shirt to wrapping around his neck. You pressed yourself further against him until you both needed to breathe and finally disconnected. You stayed in each others arms, staring into his deep brown eyes.
You smiled. "Took you long enough, Marc."
The smirk you were met with was not Marc, however, and it was far from the gentle smiles Steven gave you. Your brow furrowed. "Not Marc."
He shook his head.
"And not...Steven," you added slowly.
Your heart skipped a beat, thinking of the way Marc had described his second alter. Dangerous, deadly, and...unknown. A wildcard. You blinked at those brown eyes, seeing the danger in them but also seeing the same emotions that Marc and Steven carried. Caring. Gentleness. Devotion.
Devotion to you.
In a whisper against your lips he said, "They were wasting their time when they could have been doing this."
You tried not to smile at that after listening to half a conversation through the door. Probably not the most ethical thing, but you'd been hoping to gain some insight as to why they'd refused to kiss you for so long.
"I will see you soon, ojos de angel," he said, voice struck with more gravel than you'd ever heard it. <angel eyes>
Then his head whipped back, his grip on you tightened even more for a fraction of a second, and when he faced you again it was Steven. He blinked at you, brow furrowing as his bottom lip turned out with confusion.
"Love?" he asked. His eyes scanned your face as if you weren't really you, and then lowered to the complete lack of space between your bodies. His fingers poked into your side and made you laugh, and with that sound he let go and leapt back. "I'm so sorry, I don't--I'm not sure what..."
Steven's eyes went to the picture frame on the nearby wall as he held his hands out as if to ask, "What the hell, Marc?"
You licked your lips, pressing your hands to your burning cheeks. "It wasn't Marc."
"What do you mean?" Steven looked back to you. He glanced at the reflection, where you figured Marc was confirming your statement. Then his eyes widened with a sharp inhale. "Do you--"
You nodded, not letting him finish the question. In the blink of an eye his back straightened and he was holding onto one of your arms and tilting your chin to look up at him.
"What did he do?" Marc asked. His lips were somewhere between a grimace like Steven's and a scowl.
"Nothing," you said. "I mean...he...we kissed. But that was it! He wasn't like, hurting me. He was very polite."
He'd even given you a pet name that you were going to Google the second you made it back to your phone.
Maybe it was the way you were avoiding meeting his eyes, or the fact that you knew he could feel the burn in your cheeks, but Marc's scowl deepened. "Did he say anything?"
"He said you and Steven were wasting your time," you explained. You finally met his gaze. "Which I absolutely agree with."
Marc tilted his head, raising and lowing his eyebrows with no way to argue with you. You were right--they had been wasting their time.
"I guess that means we have some time to make up for, right?" he said. And just like that his scowl turned into a grin, already pulling your face towards him for a kiss.
Just as your lips were about to touch his head fell back and Steven fronted. "What do you think you're doing?"
They began to argue, switching back and forth between Marc and Steven fronting when you interrupted. You groaned and slapped your hands on their cheeks, holding them to look at you. They'd swapped places so many times you weren't too sure who you were holding, but it didn't matter as you squished their cheeks. "I don't know where you got this idea that the first kiss is the most important. Usually first kisses suck anyway until you figure out what the other person likes! And besides, if I kiss Marc first, or Steven, it's just my first kiss with them, not...all of you. I'll have a first kiss with Marc, and I'll have a first kiss with Steven, okay?"
You shook their head back and forth to push the point home. You groaned again and shook harder until he finally grabbed your hands and held them away from his face. He pressed his forehead to yours, looking up at you through thick lashes
"Okay," Steven breathed, "okay, love. You're right. When we have our first kiss it'll just be ours, yeah?"
"Yeah." You smiled. "Promise you guys won't fight about this anymore?"
"Promise," Steven said.
Marc fronted, placing his hands on your neck and taking a deep inhale. "Promise."
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I’m still really struggling to understand why in 2023 people want to keep their fanfic preferences “private” and use that as an excuse to serial like and not reblog. The entire reason I’m on tumblr.com is to sexualize old men and fantasize out loud about getting butt fucked by a werewolf. That’s what the internet is for, kids.
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the crooked kind
▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader
▹ — summary: you were sarah’s best friend, and you reunite with joel years after outbreak day.
▹ — a/n: erm. i love him. again not my best writing but i love this concept sm. also yes now i know there is an audience for father figure joel u will be getting so much of him
▹ — warnings: reader had major family troubles, pre-outbreak & post-outbreak, father figure joel, reader is injured, stab wound, referenced raiders/hunters, bill being hostile as usual, frank being a sweetie
masterlist
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
25th September, 2003.
After a long shower at the Miller’s house, you got changed and went downstairs to face them, the same anxiety you always felt when this happened arose in your chest. They were in the kitchen waiting for you, matching frowns on both Sarah and her dad’s face. You smiled tightly at them, grabbing the box of food Sarah held out for you.
“Guys, it’s fine! I can’t stay here forever.” You told them lightly, trying to lift the heavy mood that always fell over the three of you when you had to go back to your own house.
“You could! Couldn’t she, dad?” Sarah asked, turning to her dad and knowing the answer before he even said it.
“‘Course you could, kid. You know you’re a part of the family.” Joel supplied, making it even harder to maintain the certain and confident front you always put on when it was time to leave.
You heard the tires of the truck pulling up outside their house, and the truck door slamming shut as Tommy stepped out, his frown matching Sarah and Joel’s, too. He grabbed the box of food from your hand and put it in the bag on your back, clapping a gentle hand on your shoulder and squeezing as you smiled at him.
“Time to go,” you said, and rolled your eyes with a watery smile as you looked at the sulking expression Sarah wore, “C’mon, Sar. I’ll see you at school tomorrow!”
Nobody responded to your words, and their silence clearly conveyed their thoughts, but what about tonight? You were all aware of how much your family disliked when you stayed at the Miller’s but sometimes, you’d rather face their anger when you returned than any extra time at your own house. Aside from the people who lived there, you also never knew if there would be any water, which is why you always took a shower before leaving the Miller’s. You’d likely be back by this time next week, but it never made leaving easier.
You had once tried to stay at your best friend’s for longer, going on a few weeks, but when you had returned to your house to grab some more clothes, your parents had kicked off. Shouting, screaming, throwing things, the likes. They had yelled in your face that they would call the police on Joel, say he had kidnapped you, was keeping you away from home.
The last thing you wanted was the man who was essentially your own dad going to jail because of you.
It’s better this way, you had decided, because there was no other way. You were lucky your parents let you out of the house at all at this point. Every time you took a bundle of clothes stuffed into the bottom of your school bag you were chancing your luck, but you just couldn’t help it. Staying at Sarah’s gave you the experience of a loving family that you so badly wanted. A warm house, cooked food, and working water didn’t hurt, either.
“Let’s go, kid.” Tommy said, giving you a tight lipped smile. He didn’t want you to go back, either, but neither Miller men were willing to let you walk there. Tommy took you home every time, all of you knowing that Joel was much more likely to snap if your parents showed their faces.
“See you guys later! Happy birthday for tomorrow, Joel!” You waved at Sarah and Joel as you headed out of the front door, throwing a wave behind you and hearing them call out their own goodbyes.
You and Tommy sat in silence for the first few minutes of the drive, before he glanced in your direction, saying, “Listen, if you need anything, give us a call. I’m gonna be out tomorrow but Joel will be about. But hey, you need a bit of extra muscle? I’ll be there.”
You smiled at him, thankful to have such a supportive family who had your back at every turn.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Joel sighed as he gripped the steering wheel in his hand, waiting for his brother to finish up the paperwork he had to sign. When Tommy finally approached the truck, Joel turned to him with a dark look, annoyance clear in the curve of his eyebrows.
“Listen, Joel, I’m sorry!” Tommy told him immediately, reluctantly pulling his seatbelt over his chest and holding his hands up as if he was surrendering. “That fucker said her name and I just snapped, man.”
Tommy must have seen the way Joel’s face dropped, because he felt anxiety warm up in his chest as Joel said your name, his expression telling them both that something was very wrong. He remembered the crease to Sarah’s eyebrows when he had finally gotten home, the way she’d told him that you hadn’t been in school, and she felt like something was off.
“She wasn’t at school today.” said Joel, his eyes almost unfocused as all the possibilities for the why flashed in his mind, he completely missed the way Tommy’s jaw set.
The sound of guns going off in the police station sent both of their heads whirling around in alarm, with Tommy reaching back for the box that was kept under the driver’s seat. “What the…” he mumbled, eyes flashing with the fire that had started across the road. It was when they started hearing the helicopters and dozens of military and coppers swarming the street that the two Miller’s realised something was very wrong. “Shit, Sarah!”
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
23rd May, 2013.
Your arm was throbbing with pain, and you were sure something was fractured at the least. Not to mention the warm red blood that was dripping down from your shoulder, basically the only thing providing you with any heat in the all-encompassing cold. Or maybe all the blood leaving you was what was making you feel so cold. You weren’t sure.
It was the first time in a while that you had left your QZ, and you were ambitious, aiming to travel all the way to the Boston QZ with as little trouble as you could manage. Of course, you hadn’t counted on the people, the raiders and hunters who tried to kill you to steal all the supplies you didn’t have. You were lucky to make it out alive, really. You hadn’t felt very lucky for a long time.
It had been at least thirteen hours since you were attacked, and you knew you wouldn’t make it much further. Already, you were feeling lightheaded, woozy, like the ground was reaching up for you, but you powered on, seeing the glint of a metal fence up ahead.
The wiring at the top told you that it was electric, which you wouldn’t have been worried about if the buzzing didn’t echo in your ears, meaning it actually had electricity.
You pushed lightly against where there was a gate, a keypad there to unlock it. These days, you wouldn’t be able to bet on it being a simple 1, 2, 3, 4. Clearly, this was somebody’s home, and they didn’t take lightly to intruders. Your head dropped against the metal, the metal warm from the sun, and you were glad that only the barbed wire at the top was electric.
Your luck clearly hadn't lasted very long, as you heard the sounds of two guns clicking, the safety turning off.
“Who are you?” A man’s gruff voice asked, and you moved your head from the fence to look at the man stood at the front, “What do you want?” His striking blue eyes tore through you, looking for any sign of a threat, but you didn’t pose much of one in your current state.
“Jesus, Bill, let the girl in, she’s gonna die out there!” A friendlier voice called out, approaching the two men already stood in front of you.
“Or, she could kill us in here.” Bill said, eyes not moving from where you stood, narrowing as you put your hands up in a motion of surrendering.
Your eyes fluttered for a second, and you nodded at the man, understanding of his caution. “I—I’m just looking to get to the QZ. Boston.” You spoke, voice dry and cracking, having only been used when you had yelled out at the people who had attacked you, and that was hours ago. You were dehydrated, tired, and hurt. “Could you point me in the direction?”
“She’s not gonna make it that far.” A woman, who you hadn't noticed approaching, said, eyebrows raised as she looked from the other newcomer to Bill. A part of you knew she was right, knew that you probably wouldn’t make it another fifty steps of the way, but god, you’d come this far, and you really didn’t want to die.
“Bill.” The man prompted, eyebrows raised as he gestured toward the gate. “Just let her in, you can always… shoot her if she tries anything.”
“And I will.” Bill threatened, glaring at you even as you nodded in agreement.
“I’m not infected,” You supplied, because it was the best you could do, “Got a nasty stab wound, little while ago.”
Bill grumbled, sending the man who was trying to help you back into the town for something, and he continued his annoyed mumbling even as he opened the gate, tapping in a code and holding his gun up to your head as you took a step forward. You stilled, eyes following him as he approached, gun still raised, and held a tester to your neck, only huffing as it flashed green.
“Come on in, honey.” The kind man said, approaching your side and helping you stumble your way into their safe haven. You swayed, even with his help, and he frowned at you.
“You sure about this, Bill?” asked the other man, who hadnt spoken before now. You hadn’t really taken much notice of him, too focused on the people speaking to you in hopes that the world might show you a bit of kindness.
“Joel?” You croaked out, eyes going wide and your legs becoming numb as you stared at the man in shock. The guns immediately rose back up to your face, and they glared at you suspiciously, with the man who had been helping you stepping aside with one look from Bill, even if it was with some reluctance. “Joel— It’s you, I can’t believe it’s really you.”
They all stared at you, none of them daring to speak for a few moments. The woman stared at Joel, trying to communicate with him through eye contact alone.
“She—she fixed it. Didn’t she?” You said numbly, feeling like you were going to pass out, but unable to take your eyes off of the cracked watch that sat on his wrist. Sarah had told you her plan for his birthday, even if you’d never gotten to see it in action, but it was broken again.
Recognition seemed to seep into Joel’s eyes, and his gun lowered slightly. He said your name like a question, like your face was an answer he couldn’t work out.
In a single moment, his gun was dropped to his side, and he surged forward, pulling you into his arms. You held onto him just as tightly, or as tightly as you could manage with your fucked up arm, and blinked away tears as you squeezed your hands together behind his back.
His hand held the back of your head, keeping you close to him as he let out a breath. “Fuck.” He said, the words watery with tears you were sure he refused to let out. “I was sure you were dead. The houses on your street were on fire, I—…” He trailed off, pulling away to hold your face in his rough hands.
You forgot all your pain for a moment, eyes full of tears from something else, something like relief, “I got away, my—my dad was arrested and my mom went to get him. When I got to yours, you were all gone.”
He swallowed guiltily, eyes looking over your grown face. You looked so different, so… you looked like an adult.
You looked around at the town, wondering which one belonged to the Miller’s, “Where— where’s Sarah?”
Joel flinched, hands squeezing your cheeks once more, before he shook his head, looking away before he pulled you back to him once again.
“Oh.” You gulped, swallowing down the grief you had already felt for the Miller’s that rose back up, trying to sweep you away.
“Can somebody explain what the fuck is going on?” The woman asked, the first of Joel’s group to speak up since your unexpected reunion. She looked between you and Joel and the two men, as if one of you could answer all of her questions.
You looked up at Joel, and he felt like he was going to be sick, the memories of you doing that before the world had gone to shit hitting him like a brick to the face. He remembered the way you would smile at him, a grin that matched Sarah’s, like the two of you were born as sisters, and not just chosen sisters.
“I…” You began, stepping out of Joel’s arms to face the group and explain, but that wave of nausea hit you, the adrenaline from finding Joel seeping from your body, leaving you feeling like you were about to step into death’s doorway. “Okay, um, let me—”
Joel stepped forward, and you fell into him, with him picking you up like he used to do with you and Sarah before. It hit him then, with how you were heavier, and how he hadn’t done this for anyone in years, but he still managed.
“I—I’ll explain, after.” He said, the words echoing in your ears as your eyes fluttered, the last of your long-winded fight or flight leaving you as you rested in your dad’s arms, feeling like perhaps you’d wake up in the bed beside Sarah’s, and everything that had happened in the past decade would have been nothing but a dream. “Frank?” He prompted, letting the man lead him to wherever he thought would be best suitable to patch you up.
That sickening feeling crept up on Joel again, the situation being horribly reminiscent of outbreak day, almost like your weight was Sarah’s own, and his shaking fingers being from fear and not shock. He hated it, that the feeling of regaining a daughter was so similar to the loss of his other.
He felt a hand on his shoulder as he followed Frank, and glanced to his side to see Tess, and allowed himself to feel the slightest comfort at the nod she gave him.
Your eyes blinked open, and you looked at him through bleary eyes, “I’ve missed you, dad.” You told him, not missing the heartache in his eyes as he looked at you, but he smiled. It was thin, watery, and barely there, but you saw it.
“Kid, you got no idea.” He sighed out, focusing on getting you fixed up before he could start crying.
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relax
pairing: din djarin x afab!reader
warnings: talk of painful menstruation (i’m a pcos girlie and these are my personal symptoms/levels of pain—everyone menstruates differently), din being a worrisome little lad like always
word count: 1.4k
a/n: this is just me living vicariously through reader since i am on my stupid ass cycle and had to fix my leaking air conditioning unit today
You were not one to wait around for a man to do something for you, especially when you were more than capable of doing it yourself.
The cooling system for the Crest had been leaking water for days now, coinciding with the start of this month’s cycle—meaning, you were more than fed up. Din had been out everyday trying to hunt his latest bounty, an illusive one it seemed given Din’s struggle. By the time he got home in the evenings, he was either exhausted, sore, or frustrated—all of which causing him to neglect the leak.
You knew he had his plate full between hunting this bounty, providing for you and the kid, giving the two of you enough attention when he was home, and having to deal with your period symptoms—you may have had a tendency to be a bit snappy with him during your time of the month. So, while Din was out at work, you forced yourself out of bed and onto your feet, your uterus suddenly punishing you for the choice as your lower belly clenched with a pain you could only describe as unbearable.
Still, you were a determined young lady, and you were going to fix this all on your own.
Dragging one of Din’s storage crates over, you slid it right in front of the system, stepping onto it so that you were eye level with the machinery. Your hands used an assortment of Din’s tools to take the face off the cooler, tugging it off and lowering it down to the floor. As you moved to stand up, a contraction-like cramp struck you, causing you to squat down on the crate, your body nearly doubling over and forcing you to the hard durasteel floor of the cargo hold.
“Fuck,” you whined, eyes squeezed shut as your hands held your stomach, hoping the warmth of your palms would soothe the tension.
After a few moments, the pain dwindled back down into just a dull ache, allowing you the ability to finally stand again. Your head spun as you stood up quickly, hands pressing against the wall in front of you, it’s cold steel doing wonders for your overheated flesh.
Gathering your wits, you went back to work with the system, cleaning out the clogged drain until the leak had gone away completely. A proud smile grew on your face as you looked at the results of your handiwork, but it was soon interrupted by another stabbing cramp.
“Oh my god.” You whined again, tears falling down your cheeks as you winced. You lowered yourself into a squat on the crate again, this time struggling to stay upright as the pain kept squeezing and squeezing.
“Finally did it.” Din walked into the ship via the ramp, his bounty handcuffed beside him. When he saw you doubled over on the crate, crying and panting in absolute anguish, he didn’t think twice. He pushed the bounty into the carbonite freezer, not caring much about whether or not the bounty deserved it. He lunged towards you and kneeled by the crate, his hand rubbing your back as the other stroked your sweaty face. “Mesh’la, what happened?”
“Cramps,” you croaked, the cramp finally beginning to fade away as you now laid in the fetal position on the crate, Din’s gloved hand stroking sweat covered locks of hair out of your face. “But at least I fixed the cooler.”
“My sweet angel,” he wanted to chuckle at your sheer determination, knowing well by now just how out of service you become during your time of the month. Then, he suddenly felt terribly guilty as he realized that you were only on your feet doing this because he hadn’t. “I should’ve fixed it three days ago when you mentioned it. You should be in bed, relaxing…not tinkering away on your feet.”
“Well, I knew you had a lot on your shoulders, and I knew how to fix it, so…thought it wouldn’t be too bad.” You finally opened your eyes, looking into the black of his visor, your hand trembling in exhaustion as you reach to touch the cold beskar of his helm with your palm. He leaned into your touch, thumb stroking over your cheekbone. “Can you help me back to bed?”
“Of course,” he stood up, holding his hand out for you as you reached for him, using his body for stability as you climbed off the crate and onto your feet. Din’s arm held your waist as he walked you back to the bunk, Grogu passed out in his sling. “Surprised the kid didn’t wake up to use his powers on you.”
“Why do you think he’s still passed out? He kept doing it all morning. Poor little guy,” you rested your body back against the mattress, tugging your blankets over your form now that the ship was properly beginning to cool.
Din sat at the edge of the cot and took his helmet off, shaking out his half-damp hair before moving to take off his armor, flight suit, and gloves. Before you knew it, he was curling up behind you, his big, warm hands spread out over your lower stomach that was swollen with a painful bloat. He kissed your shoulder and felt you cuddled back against him even further, humming in appreciation for the relief his hands brought.
“You caught the bounty,” you finally spoke after ten minutes of relishing in his soothing presence. Din chuckled against the shell of your ear and nodded, kissing your hairline. “How’d you finally do it?”
“Carefully.” He mumbled before leaving another tickling kiss to your skin. “I hired a lady to flirt with him and get him drunk at the cantina. It’s surprising how easily men get distracted when a woman’s involved.”
“You say it as though it’s a revelation.” You joked, turning a bit so that you were on your back, Din’s body still resting on his side and looking down at you. He smiled at you softly, eyes taking in your every feature. You were completely natural today, not an ounce of makeup on your face, your hair not even brushed. Still, even with your flushed cheeks and sweaty hair, you looked like an angel to him. He leaned in to press a slow, tender kiss to your lips, full of affection and care.
“I know you’re the best mechanic on this ship, but please remember to take it easy. Your body’s working overtime right now. No more tinkering away unless I’m here to catch you when you fall.” He ordered, full of concern and care for your well being. You nodded, grinning at him as you combed your fingers through his messy head of curls. You hadn’t seen him helmetless since the night previous, and although it had only been about a day since, it was too long. “Are you listening to me or checking me out?”
“Both.” He chuckled at your honesty, leaning down and pecking you once more before briefly leaving you. You pouted at the sudden chill at the loss of his hands on your stomach, the pain slowly creeping back to you. Din locked up the ship and the carbonite bounty, making sure everything was secure for the night before coming back to the bunk. He pressed the button to close the door, then flicked off the light, climbing back behind you and hugging you tight once again. “Can you keep your hands on my stomach for a while? It kept the cramps at bay.”
“Of course, mesh’la.” He kissed your shoulder before nuzzling his head against yours, the two of you getting cozy in preparations for a good night’s rest. “You know…there’s a way we could put a stop to this whole ordeal for a while…”
“Din,” you chuckled and shook your head. “Isn’t one baby enough for you?”
“Grogu would love a little pal.” He defended with a smile, his voice turning into mumbles as sleep began to overtake him. You grinned to yourself and allowed sleep to wash over you as well, keeping the fact that the thought of having his child made your heart swell twice it’s size in your chest to yourself for tonight. “Y/N?”
You were almost asleep when you heard him whisper in your ear. “Yeah, baby?”
“I love you. Just realized I haven’t said it today.” A sleep-laced chuckle left your lips, a goofy grin spread across your face.
“I love you, Din. Now, I think it’s my turn to tell you to relax.” He chuckled and nodded. “Let’s get some rest.”
“Goodnight, angel.” He rasped, kissing your head. You nuzzled into the pillow and hummed contently, your hand resting over his on your stomach.
“Goodnight, my love.”
taglist: @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasabana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @paulalikestuff @jbh-castaway @mandomover @chxpsi @marvel-sw-lover @jediknight122 @harriedandharassed @star-wars-fan-2005 @alwaysdjarin @trickstersp8 @idkifimaliveanymore @trinkets01 @chloeinpink @alwaysdjarin @tizylish @jessie-skywalker (sorry if your tag isn’t working! and please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from similar content)
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Solace (Din Djarin x Reader)
The Mandalorian had been missing for three days, leaving you with a 50-year-old baby and an unreliable ship. You've had days to think about your feelings for your employer, his absence was the catalyst for a terrifying realization.
Requested by Anon: #3 I thought you were dead!
A/N: dont mind the low quality, just a lil fluff to brighten your day as I try to get back into the groove of writing again after a huge course and interstate Army fuckery.
Category: Fluff - Hurt/Comfort - Mutual Pining
Your heart was lodged firmly in your throat.
You couldn't breathe.
Din was late.
He wasn't late by an hour or two, nothing as trivial as missing dinner when it's called. No, the Mandalorian was three days late. It started off okay, the type of delay that seemed like a minor inconvenience at first. Now, you were at a loss.
It was supposed to be an easy task, a light job that'd get you the credits you needed for parts, something small just to get the ship back up and running again. There wasn't much you could do on the move, you just needed to get the Crest and its occupants back to Tatooine so you could use Peli and her workshop.
"Shit," you hissed, dropping the spanner and cradling your hand to your chest.
You were becoming sloppy with your work, your mind working a million miles an hour but not focusing on the task at hand. There was a light gurgle from beside you and you sucked your teeth, guiltily glancing down at your companion.
"Sorry," you muttered, "bad language. Don't tell your dad."
The kid muttered something to himself in a language you could never hope to understand. He was always so vocal, the complete opposite of his found father, and the comparison was comical. Grogu would yammer for hours on end, forcing the usually reserved hunter into a conversation that had you on the outs.
But you didn't mind.
It was heartwarming, watching the both of them interact always tugged at something in your chest. You tried to ignore it on the best of days, but sometimes, in the quiet of your mind, you held onto that feeling tightly.
"You got any idea where dad is, kiddo?" You prod smilingly, cheeks twinging from the falsity of it all. Keeping it together was the main priority, Grogu could sense your inner turmoil and the last thing you wanted to do was panic him.
A small sigh was your only response and you didn't push.
Fear pooled in your stomach at the sheer longing you felt. You actually missed him. Genuinely. It was a feeling that surprised you, to begin with. Sinful thoughts of your employer had always been suppressed into the deepest parts of your mind, but this one was so glaringly obvious that you couldn't stow it anywhere.
You missed Din, you were worried for him and his safety and you had come to terms with that realization hesitantly.
The sun's were setting over the long stretch of sand and you knew that the kid would start whinging soon. Din had fallen into the accidental tradition of taking his son outside to watch the sun set. The little thing had never let it go, you supposed he thought you were good enough company in the absence of his father.
Sure enough, you heard the beginnings of light grumbling from below you.
"If you give me two seconds to just close up this job," you strained against the spanner, "we can go watch the sunset together, sweetheart."
There was an excited squeal in response and the patter of his feet against durasteel.
"I would like that."
You spun on your heels, tripping backward into the panel you'd been working out of. Instinctively, you launched your spanner as hard as you could at the source of the noise, terror gripping your lungs tightly.
There was no chance for it to strike true before it was snatched out of it's trajectory. Your chest heaved against the racing pace of your heart as you tried to recover.
"Din!" You gasped, drinking in the sight of the Mandalorian from your crumpled position. He was as glorious as ever, standing tall in the entrance, beskar reflecting the floodlight across the bay.
He was here.
The hunter said nothing, leaning down to tenderly pick up the kid that whined at his feet. You reached for the light switch dumbly, unable to tear your eyes away.
He was back. Thank the fucking Maker.
There was no more dialogue between the both of you, his attention entirely on the bundle of cloth and giggles resting in his arms. You couldn't believe your eyes. It was logical that he'd eventually make his way back to you but you hadn't exactly planned what you'd do when he finally showed.
Finally, the hunter seemed ready to acknowledge you, placing the Child down just as gently as he had collected him. The kid snatched the spanner from Din's fingers, moving to entertain himself with the usually forbidden new toy.
When he stood straight again, you sucked in a breath.
"You run into any issues?" He murmured, his visor running along the length of your body. Your heart dropped at his impassioned question- but your core tightened at what his gaze implied. Heat flushed through your system and you couldn't tell whether it was anger or longing that had you by the throat.
"Is that all you can say?" You sneered, pushing off from the wall behind you. Correcting your form and swiping imaginary dust from your pants, you glared at him. "That's what you want to start with?"
"What would you suggest?" Din's words were painfully calm.
The Mandalorian had a temper, you had seen it over and over throughout your time with him, but there was something about the way he spoke that had you on edge.
You weren't sure whether it was really his fault. Nothing had truly changed. He spoke to you the same way he always had: detached, professional, and always just beyond reach. It was only now that you expected anything more and it was because your feelings had shifted- not his.
To him, you were the same.
His employee.
"You were gone," you spat.
"I was busy."
You needed to step away. Becoming emotional over something like this was a sure way to expose yourself. This job was critical, the money was good and you had nowhere else to go.
"Whatever," you snapped, crouching to stuff your tools into their weathered canvas bag. "The least you could do is let me know when you're going to go AWOL on me. I didn't sign up to be a babysitter."
There was the familiar silence of Din deliberating his next sentence, and you welcomed it graciously. You didn't want to talk to him, you didn't want to look at him- a cold shower and a drink was the only solution you could scrape up.
You stood to your full height and your heart stuttered in your chest. The hunter now stood before you, so close that your nose skimmed the beskar plating. You could smell smoke and pine, it was overpowering but not unpleasant.
Where had he been?
"What's your problem?" The words were tight and confused, and you knew your shift in attitude had him frustrated.
You raised a brow, pointing the end of your spanner to rest against his chest plate. "You're telling me that you don't see an issue with you disappearing for three days?"
"It's part of the job," Din said thinly, almost instinctive in reaction. "It's not unexpected."
You ground your teeth, the tool you held pressing harder into his armour. "You don't say."
"You're being unreasonable," the hunter huffed, resting his hands against his hips.
"I thought you were dead!" You snapped, adrenaline flooding your system and prickling your skin. "What would I have done?"
There was a long pause as you processed what you'd just blurted. You wanted to hide, you wanted to crawl into a hole and die- saved from an eternity of embarrassment.
Din tilted his head, the smallest of sounds slipping from beneath the beskar. He rocked back on his heels once, then twice, a slow nod being the only dialogue he offered.
"What am I supposed to do with a green baby and a bunch of guys in carbonite-" you tried to recover the situation, throwing the lie of self-preservation at the hunter as hard as you could.
"You were worried," he murmured, interrupting your rambling. The words died in your mouth and turned to ash, trailing off until you fell silent. You blinked dumbly at his words. He was waiting for your confirmation, but the way he stood told you that he already knew he was right.
Would it be so bad if you said that you were? People can platonically worry for others, after all, it's not uncommon to become friends with colleagues.
But the way his hands fell from his belt, the way they rested at his side and twitched against his thighs- platonic was never part of the equation.
"You're upset because you were..." the Mandalorian began slowly, "worried about me?"
Your stomach fluttered and you cast your gaze to the floor, running your sights over every dent and scuff.
"Yeah," you rasped, the word weak and shaky.
Your heart stopped at the sensation of his gloves against your skin.
You didn't dare move, you couldn't even breathe, nothing to startle him or yourself from whatever was happening. The touch was innocent, shy even. Grazing his hand against the length of your forearm with a feather-light brush.
To some, it would have been child's-play.
To you, it was everything.
Disappointingly, but not surprising, his hand fell back to his side as subtly as he could manage, as if he were pretending it had never happened at all.
"I," he cleared his throat, "I was worried about you too."
Your mouth parted, then closed again, swaying back onto your heels lightly. Before you could think of something to say, anything to break the ice or continue further down that road, there was a small squeal from below you.
The Mandalorian stepped away from you so quick you had barely seen him move, his chest heaving against the beskar plate. His hands shook lightly as he reached to pick up the kid now tugging at his boot.
"I missed you too," he said with an uneasy chuckle.
You cleared your throat, the spell broken between you both. A cold sweat trickled down the length of your spine and you only then noticed how tense your whole body had been. Every joint was locked, every muscle tightened, you had to force yourself to breathe normally again.
"I'm going to go for a shower," you murmured to no-one, rubbing your sweaty palms against your pants lightly. Even the feel of the fabric beneath your skin wasn't enough to ground you from whatever emotion had you in it's hold.
"You, uh, you want to get something to eat?" Din offered quickly, his tone clearly uncomfortable.
You blinked at him.
"After your shower," he clarified, turning his gaze back towards the child.
"Yeah," you nodded, swallowing tightly. "If you'd like."
You hadn't expected a response when you turned around, you never really knew what to expect when it came to the Mandalorian. When someone was as predictably unpredictable as the hunter you lived with, you discovered that suprise was an ever-evolving emotion.
But, as you made your way toward the refresher on shaky legs, Din spoke.
"I'd like that."
Words that were so insignificant to most.
Those same words were everything to you.
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