Ridhi

she/her | 19

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 •

Hey there! I'm Ridhi, and I'm thrilled to have you here at my masterlist. Get ready to dive into a compilation of my written works that'll take you on an exhilarating journey across various fandoms.

I've poured my heart and soul into these pieces, and I hope they bring you as much joy as they've brought me. So grab a cozy spot, kick back, and let the magic unfold. Enjoy!

* Please note that requests are open and I will do my best to fulfill them.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧

— series —

* Stars Collide; Stars Crossed

summary: Their love was an unexpected journey, a clash of two different worlds. Din Djarin, the skilled bounty hunter, and the young Jedi with a powerful heritage. Together, they embarked on a quest to protect the galaxy and one very special child, learning to trust each other and discovering a bond that transcended their differences.

pairing: Din Djarin x afab!Skywalker!reader

* Galatic Vows

summary: Amidst worlds vastly divergent, two souls are joined by fate's decree, an arranged bond. Strangers at first, a flame flickers, then steadily grows, a bright ember born of the intricacies of their new life. Through turmoil and strife, they forge ahead, their love unfurling like a rare, exquisite flower blooming amidst the chaos of the battlefield. Side by side, they brave their trials, fighting for their beliefs and for each other, and in this struggle, they form an unbreakable bond.

pairing: Manda’lor!Din Djarin x afab!Princess!reader

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐔𝐬

— series —

*Echoes of Sanctuary

summary: In a world ravaged by a devastating outbreak, Joel, a weathered survivor burdened by the weight of his past, finds an unexpected glimmer of hope in Ellie, a young girl immune to the infection. Amidst the chaos and despair, a glimmer of hope emerges when Joel unexpectedly finds love and solace in the most unexpected of places after two decades of heartache.

pairing: Joel Miller x afab!doctor!reader - main

*Hollywood’s Sweetheart

summary: In an alternate universe where the outbreak never occurred, Joel Miller leads a quiet and mundane life on a ranch with his two daughters and his brother. Their peaceful existence is interrupted when a fateful encounter brings Hollywood's beloved sweetheart into their lives, turning their world upside down.

pairing: Cowboy!Joel Miller x Singer!Actress!Reader

*A Doll's Heart

Summary: When visiting your best friend, Barbara Handler, also known as Stereotypical Barbie, you make a decision to connect with the two girls who have played with your doll counterpart for years, all while dealing with issues of self-identity and love. Little did you anticipate that your heart would be captured by Joel Miller, the grumpy yet caring father of the girls. As you navigate the complexities of emotions, you also find yourself playing a role in mending the delicate threads of the Miller family's relationships.

pairing: Joel Miller x Model!Barbie!Reader

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

— series —

*Love, Lunacy, Time

summary: In a startling twist of fate, you find yourself awakening not in your bedroom at the Avengers compound, but alongside the Moon Knight boys in the 1950s in a sitcom-like setting of the town of Westview. The shock intensifies as you realize that, somehow, you and the Moon Knight boys are married to each other, despite never having crossed paths before.

pairing: Moonknight x afab!ScarletWitch!reader

Moonlit Memories

summary: Amidst their quest to unravel the mystery behind the unbalanced scale of justice, Steven and Marc delve deep into their memories, scouring every detail for a clue. However, in the midst of their journey, they chance upon a memory that seems unfamiliar, as if it belongs to someone else entirely. Intrigued and perplexed, they venture further down the rabbit hole, hoping to uncover the truth that lies buried within.

pairing: Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley x afab!mute!reader

*upcoming

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Rewrite.

Hello, everyone! I know it has been awhile since I last uploaded, it is just that I have realized that my writing style has changed. So I am planning on rewriting all of my works in a better way. My works such as: A Doll's Heart, Hollywood's sweetheart, Galactic Vows, Stars Crossed; Stars collide, Love; Lunacy; Time, and Echoes of Sanctuary will be rewritten and be back.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Begging for more "hollywoods sweetheart"😭🧎‍♀️

Darling, it is in progress, it will be out before you know it.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

I miss Galactic Vows so much! 😍

It is coming, I am currently working on it.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Hey! Are you still doing Hollywood's sweetheart and doll's heart? 🥺🥺 please say yes say yes cause I need it

I am still doing them. Currently the new chapters are works in progress.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Stars Collide; Stars Crossed: chapter III

Summary: Din and his partner, along with the droid and the Child, find themselves in a tense standoff with the guild leader Greef Karga. With blasters drawn, they stand united to protect the Child at all costs.

pairing: Din Djarin x afab!Skywalker!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, possessive!Din, powerful!reader, Jedi!reader, Grogu being adorable, Grogu loves his Ma more than his buir.

previous | next

The ramp of the Mandalorian's ship descends with a soft hiss, the metal grating against the floor of the docking bay. As you step onto the vessel, cradling the Child in your arms, a mixture of relief and exhaustion washes over you.

Beeb rolls onto the ship, his sensors flickering as he scans the surroundings for any signs of danger. The dim lighting of the ship's interior casts a warm glow over the scene, creating a cocoon of safety amidst the chaos of the galaxy.

The Mandalorian walks closely behind you, his gloved hand positioned protectively near the small of your back. He guides you into the ship, his presence a reassuring anchor in all this chaos.

With the Child held protectively against your chest, you make your way through the ship's corridor, guided by the Mandalorian. The Child's head rests against your shoulder, his tiny fingers curling against your clothing. You can feel his steady breaths, a soothing rhythm that lulls your weary heart.

The familiarity of your lightsaber's hilt in your hand brings a sense of comfort amidst the uncertainty. The events of the past hours replay in your mind. Escaping the ambush by the other bounty hunters and the guild leader. A surge of the Force wraps around you, a sudden influx of heightened awareness that jolts you to a stop. Without hesitation, almost as if guided by instinct, you draw the Mandalorian's blaster from its holster and pivot, aiming it at the intruder positioned behind you and the Mandalorian.

Your eyes lock onto the figure behind you, and recognition dawns as you identify him as Greef Karga, the guild leader who had orchestrated the ambush.

Greef Karga stands there, his own weapon raised and trained on you. His face is a mask of determination, his lips pressed into a thin line, "I didn't want it to come to this."

The tense standoff between you, the Mandalorian, and Greef Karga hangs heavily in the air. The ship's corridor seems to narrow, the walls closing in around you as the three of you face each other, weapons drawn.

Your grip on the blaster remains steady, your fingers positioned with practiced precision. Your heart races, adrenaline coursing through your veins, but your mind is clear, your focus unwavering.

Without a word, the Mandalorian subtly positions himself slightly in front of you, his body language a clear display of his readiness to defend. The hard, reflective surface of his beskar armor glints in the dim light.

Beeb emits a low whir, his form shifting slightly as he positions himself to the side. The droid never one to shy away from danger, emits a low hum as his optic sensors narrow in on Greef Karga.

The Mandalorian's voice is a low rumble, a warning laced with an underlying threat. "You're outnumbered, Karga."

Greef Karga's gaze flickers between you, the Mandalorian, and the Child nestled in your arms. His resolve seems to waver for a split second, but he quickly regains his composure.

"Skywalker, Mando, last warning. Hand over the child," Greef Karga's voice is firm, a mix of authority and desperation. You hold the Child closer to you, your protective instincts kicking into high gear. His small form feels fragile against your chest, and your resolve to keep him safe strengthens.

"We won't hand over the Child," you reply, your voice steady and resolute. "He's not a bounty. He's a life, and he's under our protection."

You hold the eye of the guild leader, your gaze unwavering as you assert your stance. The seconds stretch on, each heartbeat a drumming reminder of the tension that hangs in the air.

The Mandalorian's hand, which was previously resting on the small of your back, now rests on your waist and tightens from the side, his fingers curling possessively against the fabric of your clothing. You can feel the tension in his touch, a silent promise that he won't let any harm come to either of you.

Greef Karga's face contorted with frustration, his finger twitching on the trigger of his blaster. "You're making a mistake, Skywalker. The Empire will stop at nothing to get that child back." "The Empire that crumbled four years ago. I'm intimately aware; my brother, sister, and I played pivotal roles in its downfall," you assert, your voice carrying a mix of conviction and memories.

"The Empire may have fallen, but its remnants still linger," Greef Karga retorts, his voice tinged with bitterness. "There are those who would pay dearly for the Child."

Your gaze doesn't waver, your eyes locked onto Greef Karga's. "And we're prepared to protect him, no matter the cost."

As the standoff intensifies, a sudden distraction erupts to your left. Din Djarin, the Mandalorian, reacts with lightning speed, striking a panel on his left side with his fiber cord whip. The impact causes sparks to fly, followed by billowing clouds of smoke that engulf the corridor.

The smoke creates a shroud of confusion, obscuring your vision and disorienting both you and Greef Karga. You can hear Beeb emitting concerned whirs as his sensors try to pierce through the haze, and you tighten your grip on the Child, ensuring his safety.

You stumble slightly as the Mandalorian pulls you to safety, his beskar-clad form shielding you from the barrage of blaster fire.

The blaster shots echo through the smoke, each bolt of energy a deadly threat. Your heart pounds in your chest as you hold the Child close, your instincts and training kicking in. The Mandalorian's strong presence beside you provides a sense of security amidst the chaos.

Through the haze, you catch a glimpse of Greef Karga's form, his silhouette shifting and moving as he tries to locate his targets. The sound of blaster fire and the sharp smell of scorched metal fill the air, creating a tense and frantic atmosphere.

As blaster fire continues to streak through the smoke-filled corridor, you feel a firm hand on your wrist. The Mandalorian's gloved fingers wrap around your hand that currently holds the blaster, his firm yet reassuring.

His strong grip on your hand guides your aim, and with a quick pull of the trigger, a blaster bolt streaks through the smoke-filled corridor.

The shot pierces through the smoke, finding its mark on Greef Karga. The force of the blast sends him stumbling backward, his blaster falling from his grip as he crashes into the wall.

The impact causes Greef Karga to go flying out of the docking bay, his body carried by the force of the shot. The metal ramp of the ship clangs shut behind him, sealing the ship's interior from the outside.

The smoke begins to dissipate, revealing the aftermath of the confrontation. You stand there, the blaster still in your hand, your chest rising and falling with adrenaline. The Mandalorian doesn't pull away, his gaze fixed on the sealed ramp.

Beeb's sensors flicker, the droid emitting a mixture of relief and concern. He rolls closer to your side, his chirps and whirs filled with a combination of questions and reassurance. "Mama, you okay? Baby okay?"

You glance down at the small droid, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "We're both okay, Beeb," you assure him gently. "Thanks to the Mandalorian's quick thinking, we managed to get rid of the threat."

The Mandalorian moves to stand in front of you, his hands finding their way to your shoulders as if to offer silent support. Despite the tension and danger that had just unfolded, there's a quiet sense of unity between you.

"Are you hurt?" The Mandalorian's voice is gruff, but there's an unmistakable concern beneath the words.

You shake your head, still holding the blaster in your hand, and offer him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. Thanks to you."

The Mandalorian nods his beskar-clad form a shield against the outside world. His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he turns to face the control panel beside the ramp.

"We gotta get out of here," you say, your voice carrying a sense of urgency.

With the threat of Greef Karga neutralized you know that staying in the docking bay is not an option. The situation could escalate further, and you need to prioritize the safety of the Child.

The Mandalorian nods, "Come on, we need to get to the cockpit." The urgency in his voice matches your own as he gestures toward the ladder that leads upward.

"Wait." You walk closer to the Mandalorian, your movements deliberate and determined.

As you reach him, you gently place his blaster back into its holster, your fingers brushing against the cool metal. The touch is brief, but the connection between you is palpable, a silent communication that speaks volumes.

His helmeted gaze remains fixed on you, the intensity of his presence almost tangible. You can't see his eyes, but you feel his focus, his unwavering attention on you.

"Thank you for having my back," you say softly, your voice carrying a warmth that matches the gratitude in your eyes.

The Mandalorian's response is a slight nod, a small acknowledgment of your words.

"We make a good team," he replies, his voice steady and filled with a sense of partnership.

You offer him a smile, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions. "Yes, we do. Now come on."

Beeb rolls ahead of you two, as he nears the ladder, he turns to you with a series of electronic chirps and beeps, clearly indicating that he's ready to assist. You chuckle softly, appreciating the droid's eagerness to help. "How's your droid getting into the cockpit?" the Mandalorian questions, his helmeted gaze shifting between you and Beeb.

You pause, then shift your gaze toward the Mandalorian, a warm smile gracing your lips. "Like this," you say, your voice carrying a playful undertone.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you extend your hand toward Beeb, palm facing upward. The Force responds to your command, a gentle push that lifts Beeb off the ground. The droid hovers momentarily before gliding gracefully up the ladder, its spherical form rolling smoothly step by step until it reaches the cockpit entrance.

The Mandalorian's helmeted head turns to follow the droid's progress, and you can almost sense his surprise and curiosity beneath the beskar.

"Well, that's one way to do it," he remarks with a hint of admiration in his voice.

You chuckle softly, the tension of the earlier confrontation starting to ebb away as the adrenaline fades. "Resourcefulness is key," you reply, your voice light. You cast your gaze towards the ladder, only to realize that climbing it while still holding the Child is not an easy option. Your eyes then shift back to the Mandalorian, a trace of uncertainty evident in your expression.

"Here," the Mandalorian offers, his voice a low rumble, extending his arms slightly. "Give me the Child."

You carefully transfer the Child into his waiting arms, the tiny being resting against his chest within the protective cocoon of his beskar armor.

The Child's head rests against the Mandalorian's chest plate, and you catch a glimpse of his tiny green ears poking out from beneath the hood of his robe. You offer the Mandalorian a grateful smile, appreciating his willingness to help. With the Child in his capable arms, you can see the gentleness in his otherwise stern demeanor as he cradles the youngling.

Once the Child is secure, you take a step closer to the ladder, ready to follow Beeb and the Mandalorian to the cockpit. Beeb's electronic noises echo from the cockpit entrance, and you know that the droid is ready and waiting for you.

With a renewed determination, you ascend the ladder, the Mandalorian following closely behind you, his precious cargo held securely against him.

As you reach the top of the ladder, the cockpit opens up before you, a view of the star-studded expanse of space stretching out beyond the transparisteel windows. Beeb's presence is immediately evident, his spherical form perched near the pilot's seat, his sensors engaged and ready for action.

You step into the cockpit, feeling a rush of familiarity as you take in the array of controls and displays. Beeb emits a series of beeps as if welcoming you to the command center of the ship. "This ship is pretty old, Mama. Wonder if Uncle Luke would be jealous that I got to ride in something this vintage," Beeb chirps in its characteristic electronic tones, its spherical form emitting a sense of innocent curiosity.

You can't help but smile at Beeb's comment. "I think Uncle Luke would be quite impressed with your choice of transportation," you reply with a chuckle, your gaze shifting from the droid to the starry expanse before you.

The Mandalorian enters the cockpit behind you, his presence filling the small space. He positions himself near you, the Child still held safely in his arms.

With a nod of gratitude, you take the Child back into your arms from the Mandalorian. The little being stirs slightly, his ears twitching before he settles again, seemingly comforted by your presence.

As you hold the Child against you once again, a warmth fills your heart. His tiny hand reaches up and rests on your chest, his serene face illuminated by a soft glow from the console. You press a soft kiss to his forehead, a silent promise that you'll always keep him safe.

The Mandalorian watches you with a mixture of intrigue and something deeper that his helmet obscures. His gloved hand lingers on your arm for a moment longer before he steps back slightly, giving you both some space.

"Strap in," the Mandalorian's voice breaks the momentary silence, his practicality cutting through the emotions that have swirled around you. You nod in acknowledgment, grateful for his reminder. With the Child in your arms, you carefully make your way to one of the unoccupied seats in the cockpit. Beeb emits a series of beeps, seemingly excited by the impending takeoff.

As you settle into the seat, you secure the safety straps around yourself and the Child, ensuring that he's snug and protected. The Mandalorian takes his position at the ship's controls, his gloved fingers deftly navigating the various buttons and switches. As the ship starts its ascent, you're enveloped in a sense of weightlessness that seems to slow down time. The gentle vibration of the engine thrums through the seat beneath you, creating a comforting rhythm that matches the steady beat of your heart. Your grip on the Child tightens instinctively, a protective gesture that you don't even realize you're making.

Beside you, Beeb emits a series of electronic chirps, almost like an excited countdown to departure. The droid's presence is a reassuring constant, a reminder that you're not alone in this journey. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you can't help but smile at his eagerness.

The Mandalorian's focus remains on the ship's controls, his gloved fingers moving with practiced grace as he adjusts the ship's trajectory.

Despite the urgency of your situation, his movements are deliberate and measured, a testament to his skill as a pilot. You steal a glance at his helmeted profile, wondering about the man beneath the beskar armor and the stories that lie hidden there.

As your gaze shifted from the Mandalorian to the out and beyond the window, you were captivated by a sight that momentarily startled you. A Mandalorian donning a jet pack soared through the sky, beside the ship.

Your Mandalorian counterpart also gazes towards the Mandalorian flying outside. The two of you maintain your gaze on the Mandalorian as he soars through the sky.

The airborne Mandalorian offers a salute in your direction, a gesture that might be intended for your Mandalorian companion. With that, he takes off and gradually fades from sight as he disappears into the clouds.

"I gotta get one of those," the Mandalorian's voice breaks the silence, his helmeted head tilting slightly as he watches the fading figure in the sky and then turns back to face forward.

You can't help but chuckle softly, the sound echoing through the cockpit. "Jet packs do seem pretty handy," you reply with a playful smile, your eyes dancing with amusement. "But you've already got that beskar armor. I'd say you're not lacking in cool gear."

The Mandalorian's helmeted head turns towards you, the dim glow of the cockpit reflecting off the smooth surface of his helmet. "Beskar's good, but a jet pack looks better." You laugh softly, the conversation between you and the Mandalorian warming the atmosphere in the cockpit. "Well, maybe you'll get your chance to try one out someday."

The Mandalorian's voice carries a hint of longing as he responds, "Maybe. But for now, I've got my hands full with this little one." He gestures subtly to the Child nestled in your arms, his tiny form wrapped in the folds of his robe.

"So where are we headed?" you ask, your voice carrying a mix of curiosity and readiness for whatever lies ahead.

The Mandalorian's gaze remains fixed on the controls, his voice steady as he replies, "Somewhere safe, somewhere off the grid. I know a few places that might provide refuge."

"Sounds like a good plan," you respond, nodding in agreement. "Somewhere away from prying eyes and potential threats."

The Mandalorian's gloved fingers continue to move deftly across the controls, his focus unwavering. The ship glides smoothly through space, the stars outside the window creating a mesmerizing backdrop to your conversation.

"You know," you begin, your voice thoughtful, "I've heard stories about Mandalorians being warriors without equal, but I never imagined I'd meet one like you."

The Mandalorian's helmeted head turns slightly in your direction, his visor reflecting the ambient light in the cockpit. "There are many like me," he replies.

"True, but you're the one who's chosen to take in the Child," you point out. "To protect him at all costs. That's something special."

The Mandalorian's silence is telling, his acknowledgment of your words apparent even without seeing his face. While you and the Mandalorian continue your conversation, you decide to gently release the Child from your arms as he's now awake. Lowering the youngling to the ground, you notice that Beeb has found a cozy spot and drifted off to sleep.

Your attention briefly turns to the droid, a small smile gracing your lips at the sight. Beeb's trust and comfort within the ship's cockpit is evident, and you're grateful for the droid's companionship.

Unbeknownst to you, as your gaze rests on Beeb, the Child takes advantage of the moment and begins to waddle across the cockpit floor. His tiny form toddles purposefully towards the Mandalorian, his hands reaching out with a mixture of curiosity and determination.

The Child's gaze fixates on a lever near the control panel, his green ears perking up with interest. His small gremlin-like hands reach out, the lever's shiny surface capturing his attention. Mando, observing the Child's curiosity, extends his arm and unscrews the shiny ball on top of the lever. He places it gently into the Child's small hand, then returns his attention to the face ahead, allowing the Child to do his own thing.

The Child, holding the small ball in his tiny hand, toddles toward you with a determined gait. He looks up at you with wide, curious eyes and raises his arms, a silent request for you to pick him up. You can feel the Child's curiosity and excitement through the Force, his innocent thoughts and emotions intertwined with your own. As he toddles toward you, you can't help but smile, completely in sync with his intentions.

You reach down and scoop the Child into your arms, his small hands resting against your chest as he snuggles close. His presence in your mind is a warm and comforting sensation, like a gentle whisper of trust and affection.

"Are you having fun with it, little one?" you murmur softly, your voice a gentle caress that only he can hear.

The Child's response comes in the form of a series of contented coos and babbling sounds. His tiny fingers wrap around your clothing, and his head nestles against your shoulder.

The events of the day have been a whirlwind—danger, confrontation, and moments of unexpected connection. Amidst the chaos of the galaxy, you've found an unlikely ally in the Mandalorian, a warrior who has chosen a path of protection and guardianship.

With the Child nestled against you, his steady breaths a soothing rhythm, you realize that you're not just a Jedi, not just a guardian of the Force. You're a protector, a caregiver, and a beacon of light in a galaxy that still struggles to find its way.

And as the ship continues its journey through the stars, you hold the Child a little closer, your heart filled with a sense of purpose and the knowledge that, no matter what challenges arise, you're ready to face them head-on.

Tag list: @babygirlrex0504 @alienated-green-tea @fatima-marisa @dindjarindude @sharin1806 @ruthyalva96 @avengersfan25 @i-say-choco-you-say-ice-cream @the-anchored-sailor-girl @erissco @vintageoldfashion

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

A Doll's Heart

Summary: When visiting your best friend, Barbara Handler, also known as Stereotypical Barbie, you make a decision to connect with the two girls who have played with your doll counterpart for years, all while dealing with issues of self-identity and love. Little did you anticipate that your heart would be captured by Joel Miller, the grumpy yet caring father of the girls. As you navigate the complexities of emotions, you also find yourself playing a role in mending the delicate threads of the Miller family's relationships.

pairing: Joel Miller x Model!Barbie!Reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Flirting, Joel Miller being a girl dad, Joel being hard on the outside but he is a softie, Ellie and Sarah being a chaotic duo, Ellie being a menace, Sarah being a sweetheart, reader being a maternal figure, teenage crushes.

Chapters

001. — A Doll in a Human World — [Visting your best friend, you are intrigued by how Barbara's life has evolved from the stereotypical Barbie to a human. The changes in her life raise questions within you, prompting a deeper introspection; is this life for you?] (currently working on it)

The year is 2023, and this is an au. Ellie and Sarah are both Joel’s daughters and are both 16 years old. This story is inspired by @poeticbarnes oneshot on a Joel Miller x Barbie!reader. It can be read here.

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don't have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

taglist: @poeticbarnes

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Hey! Are you still doing Galactic Vows?

I am! I have been a bit sick lately which is why I couldn’t update but I am working on the next chapter.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

For "hollywoods sweetheart" if the age going to be mentioned a lot? In my mind I think I'll picture the reader being 33 bc that's Taylor swifts age and to do all she's done. But if 26 is an important factor in the story then ofc i won't!

The age isn’t much of an important factor. If you want to imagine the teader as 33, then go agead. The age of 26 was just a way to help visualize the age gap between Joel and the reader.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Hollywood’s Sweetheart: Chapter 1

Summary: In the heart of Texas, nestled within the vast expanse of the countryside, lies the Miller family ranch. Have a look into the perfectly “normal” lives of the Miller family, and how their morning starts.

pairing: Cowboy!Joel Miller x Singer!Actress!Reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Age-Gap (Joel is 41 and the reader is 26) Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Flirting, Joel Miller being a girl dad, Joel being hard on the outside but he is a softie, Ellie and Sarah being a chaotic duo, Ellie being a menace, Sarah being a sweetheart.

Series masterlist | next

Soft music filters throughout Joel's room, a gentle serenade that tugs at the corners of his consciousness. As the first rays of sunlight kiss his face, he stirs from slumber, gradually allowing the music and the morning light to rouse him from his dreams.

Joel's eyes flutter open, adjusting to the soft glow that spills into his room. He takes a moment to savor the tranquility of this sacred space, where time seems suspended, and the outside world is held at bay.

The melodic notes of a familiar tune drift through the air, as if carried on a gentle breeze. The music, a delicate dance between piano keys, wraps around him like a comforting embrace, inviting him to embrace the day with a renewed sense of purpose.

As he sits up, the warm hues of the morning sun bathe his face, casting a gentle glow upon his weathered features. The soft sheets slide off his body, showcasing the scars scattering over his naked back and chest.

Joel gazes out of the window, his eyes tracing the contours of the countryside that stretches beyond the ranch's borders. The rolling hills, swathed in a quilt of green, seem to breathe in harmony with the serene symphony that fills the air.

With deliberate movements, Joel swings his legs over the side of the bed, his bare feet connecting with the worn, rustic wooden floor. The texture of the weathered planks presses against the soles of his feet, grounding him in the tangible reality of the world.

Inhaling deeply, Joel's hands instinctively reach for the roof, his fingers interlocking as he stretches his arms overhead. The muscles in his back ripple beneath his skin, as he stretches, a satisfying groan escapes his lips, the tension slowly dissipating with each movement.

The morning light dances through the open window, casting a warm glow upon Joel's strong silhouette.

Feeling the gentle pull in his muscles, Joel allows his body to yield to the stretch, a momentary release from the weight of his responsibilities. As his body finds its balance, a sense of urgency surges through Joel's veins.

The day ahead of him is long and full of tasks he has to complete before he can see his bed for rest again. With each stretch, he sheds the remnants of sleep, embracing the call of the waking world.

Releasing the stretch, Joel slowly lowers his arms, allowing them to fall gracefully by his sides. He stands tall, his back muscles flexing and relaxing, attuned to the rhythm of his body.

In this quiet moment, Joel takes a final breath, savoring the crisp morning air that fills his lungs.

With a purposeful stride, Joel makes his way into the bathroom, the steady rhythm of his steps echoing in the quiet solitude of the house. The soft music follows him, a loyal companion that refuses to fade into the background.

Joel descends the creaking stairs of the Miller household, his steps deliberate and measured. With each footfall, the sounds of morning embrace him—the soft murmur of his daughters' laughter, and the enchanting melodies that weave through the air.

As he reaches the final step, the kitchen comes into view, a tableau of warmth and familial bliss. The room is adorned with the rustic charm of well-loved furniture, bathed in the gentle glow of morning light that filters through the windows. The tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the scents of a hearty breakfast, creating a symphony of enticing fragrances.

And there, in the heart of it all, Joel's eyes alight upon a sight that warms his soul. His daughters, Ellie and Sarah, stand in the middle of the kitchen, both sway to the beat, hand in hand with huge grins on their faces.

Their laughter dances in the air as the music wraps around them, an invisible thread that binds their hearts in a shared moment of joy. Their synchronized movements reflect the unbreakable bond between the two.

Joel leans against the doorframe, his heart swelling with love and admiration. The music, a gentle backdrop to the scene, guides their movements as they twirl and spin, their laughter filling the room like a delicate symphony. In this moment, time seems to slow, as if caught in the delicate embrace of their shared happiness.

With a fond smile playing upon his lips, Joel takes a step forward, entering the kitchen with a quiet reverence. His presence goes unnoticed for a brief moment, as he allows himself to soak in the beauty of this family tableau—the unguarded laughter, the carefree dance, and the unspoken bond that binds them together.

Sarah allows Ellie to spin her by her hand, gracefully, her radiant spirit illuminating the room. Her laughter echoes like a melody, cascading through the space as she twirls with an elegance that belies her youthful exuberance. In her, Joel sees a reflection of innocence and hope, a beacon of light in a world often clouded by darkness.

Beside Sarah, Ellie, the younger of the two, matches her sister's every step with a mixture of determination and playful mischief. Her infectious laughter fills the air, interweaving with the music in a harmonious duet. In her eyes, Joel sees a reflection of his own spirit—the fire and determination that burns within her, a testament to the resilience they both possess.

"Here it comes, Ellie, wait," Sarah says to her sister, her voice brimming with excitement and anticipation.

Joel, captivated by the scene unfolding before him, approaches the dancing duo. A curious smile plays at the corners of his lips as he gazes at his daughters, their shared secret evident in their sparkling eyes.

“What's got y'all so excited, Sarah? Ellie?” Joel's voice broke through the room, warm and tinged with curiosity.

Startled by their father's presence, the girls halt their dance, their laughter lingering in the air like a melody that refuses to fade. Turning towards Joel, their expressions brim with delight, their eyes shining with a shared secret.

"Dad!" Ellie exclaims, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “We're dancing to Sarah's favorite part of the song. It's coming up!"

Sarah's face lights up, her excitement contagious. "Yeah, Dad! You have to hear it. It's the most magical part!"

Joel chuckles softly, his heart swelling with pride at the connection between his daughters. He nods, fully embracing the moment, and joins them in the center of the kitchen. He wraps his arms around his daughters, forming a circle of love and warmth.

For the first time since the morning began, Joel directs his attention to the lyrics being sung by the artist. Until now, he had been captivated by the melodies, lost in the enchanting dance of music that had filled the air.

“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover”

As the song fills the room, Joel's ears capture every note, every inflection in the artist's voice. Mesmerized by the singer's enchanting tone, his heart swells with a newfound appreciation for the beauty of the lyrics.

The artist's voice, rich and soulful, carries an exquisite purity that reaches the depths of his being. Her vocal prowess effortlessly glides through each line, infusing the lyrics with a profound sense of longing and authenticity.

With each verse, the singer's voice caresses Joel's senses, weaving a tapestry of emotions that resonate within him. There is an ethereal quality to her delivery, as if she has tapped into a universal thread of human experience, evoking a profound connection with her listeners.

As the final notes of the song fade into silence, Joel remains immersed in the echoes of the singer's voice. He stands there, in the heart of the kitchen, pleased that there are such artists, because he has seen some artists with the most vulgar and nonsensical lyrics.

With a gentle smile playing on his lips, Joel turns his attention back to his daughters, who are watching him with a question in their eyes and excitement etched on their faces.

“So, did you like it, Dad?” Sarah asks, her eyes wide with anticipation, her voice filled with the hope of his approval.

Joel chuckles, a warmth spreading through his chest as he gazes at his daughters and the eager look on their faces, reminding him of when they were younger.

Joel shrugs his shoulder as he takes hold of his coffee mug, “"Well, I reckon it's alright, girls,” he says, his tone warm and measured. "Can't say it's my usual cup of tea.”

Both Sarah and Ellie exchange a glance, and in perfect synchronization, they raise their brows, shifting their weight to one hip, and cross their arms over their chests.

Sarah tilts her head to the side, her voice laced with a touch of sass. "Come on, Dad. We know you secretly love it. Admit it."

Ellie nods in agreement, a smirk playing on her lips. "Yeah, Dad. We saw you tapping your foot to the beat."

Joel feigns an expression of mock surprise, his eyes widening comically. "Tapping my foot? I have no idea what you're talking about.”

"Plus, this is the Hollywood's sweetheart we're talking about," Ellie chimes in, admiration ringing in her tone. "Everyone loves her songs. You can't not love her song.”

Sarah nods enthusiastically, her smile widening. "Exactly, Dad! She's a sensation, a queen, a gazelle, the ruler of my heart.”

Ellie interjects, her voice filled with a reverent awe. "You also haven’t listened to her best album. Reputation is a true masterpiece."

“No.” Sarah attracts her sister’s attention, “have you heard lover and folklore. They are totally better than reputation.”

Ellie turns to her sister and narrows her eyes at Sarah. "Better than Reputation? Are you kidding me, Sarah? Reputation is a masterpiece. It's edgy, it's bold, and every song is a powerful anthem."

Sarah raises an eyebrow, her voice filled with challenge. "Oh, please, Ellie. Lover and folklore have such a depth and beauty to them. The lyrics are poetic, and the melodies are simply enchanting. Reputation may be powerful, but these albums speak to the soul."

Ellie crosses her arms, a determined glint in her eyes. "But Reputation is a journey, Sarah. It's unapologetic and raw, capturing the essence of human emotions. Each track tells a story, and it's an album that demands to be heard."

Joel watches his daughters go back and forth, their eyes alight with enthusiasm and their voices filled with playful banter. He listens to their spirited debate, finding amusement and joy in their shared love for music.

Just as the argument between Sarah and Ellie reaches a crescendo, a voice cuts through the air, interrupting their spirited discussion. "What are you two talking about? Midnights is clearly better," a deep voice interjects.

Joel lets out a weary groan, his hand instinctively reaching up to rub his temples. The gentle thud of his forehead meeting the kitchen island reverberates through the room, a physical expression of his exasperation. Tommy's mischievous jabs never fail to escalate the playful debates between the girls, adding fuel to the fire instead of settling their arguments.

As if on cue, Tommy and Maria enter the kitchen, their presence adding to the lively atmosphere. Tommy wears a self-satisfied grin, relishing in the chaos he has stirred, while Maria follows closely behind, her expression mirroring Joel's exasperation.

Joel meets Maria's gaze, their shared understanding evident in the subtle exchange of glances. They both know that when Tommy gets involved, things have a tendency to escalate rather than settle down. It's a familiar dance they've witnessed countless times, the dynamic between Tommy's mischief and their attempts to maintain order.

Maria places a hand on Joel's arm, offering a reassuring squeeze, before turning her attention to Tommy. Her voice carries a hint of resignation as she speaks. "Tommy, I thought we agreed to keep the peace this morning. Can't we all just enjoy breakfast without diving into another spirited debate?"

Ellie nods, a mischievous glint in her eyes, as she leans closer to her uncle. "Yeah, Uncle Tommy, you really shouldn't start debates, especially when you're clearly on the wrong side.”

Tommy feigns offense, his hand dramatically clutching his heart. "Why, you little brat! Have you forgotten who taught you about good music taste?" he exclaims, his voice laced with mock indignation.

"Umm... Dad," Sarah interjects, a smirk playing on her lips. "I hate to break it to you, Uncle Tommy, but it was actually Dad who introduced us to good music.”

Ellie can't resist the urge to high five Sarah, their palms connecting with a satisfying smack. Their laughter fills the kitchen, the shared moment of victory enhancing their sisterly bond. They watch as mock hurt falls over Uncle Tommy's face, his expression a mix of playfulness and defeat.

Joel can't help but chuckle at his daughters' quick-witted retorts, finding amusement in their playful banter with Uncle Tommy. He shakes his head, a grin spreading across his face as he joins the conversation.

"Now, now, let's not gang up on poor Tommy," Joel says, his tone filled with feigned sympathy. "After all, he might need a little extra help in developing his music taste."

Tommy dramatically places a hand over his heart, a theatrical pout forming on his lips. "Oh, I see how it is. The betrayal from my own family," he laments, his voice dripping with exaggerated despair.

Maria, her voice laced with affectionate amusement, interrupts the friendly banter. "Alright, alright, enough of the musical debates for now. We can continue this later. But girls, it's time to start getting ready for school."

Joel watches as the girls nod in agreement, their playful expressions shifting to ones of obedience. They exchange a quick glance before scampering up the stairs, their footsteps fading into the distance and into their respective bedrooms.

As the girls make their way upstairs, he turns his attention to the task at hand—preparing breakfast for the family.

With a determined stride, Joel glides around the kitchen, his hands deftly reaching for the essentials—flour, sugar, milk, and eggs to get started on thise blueberry pancakes the girl were begging him to make.

Joel sets the ingredients on the counter, his hands moving with practiced ease. Measuring and mixing ingredients in a bowl, he settles in a familiarity of the process.

Maria leans against the kitchen counter, her hand resting gently on her growing belly. She takes a sip of her juice, her eyes dancing with curiosity as she glances toward Tommy and Joel. "So, boys," she says, her voice filled with warmth, "what do you have planned for the day?"

Tommy casts a warm smile at his wife, Maria, as he leans back in his chair at the kitchen island, "Well, I gotta run on down into town to fetch some supplies for the ranch. We're runnin' low on essentials, and I reckon it's 'bout time to restock 'em."

Joel nods in agreement with Tommy's plan, "Sounds like a plan, Tommy. We'll need those supplies to make sure everything keeps tickin' around here."

Maria's eyes sparkle with curiosity as she turns her attention to Joel. "And what about you, Joel? Any big plans for the day?"

Joel pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he takes a moment to think about his plans for the day. "Well, I reckon there's a few fences that need mendin' along the northern pasture. With the recent storms, some of the posts have been knocked out of place. Gotta make sure those cattle don't go wanderin' off."

“Well boys, you two have got a long day ahead of you.” Maria says, taking a sip from her juice.

"What 'bout you, honey? What are you gonna be doin' today? Tommy questions, taking a hold of his wife’s hand.

Maria offers a warm smile, her fingers intertwining with Tommy's as she speaks. "Well, I've got a full day of work ahead of me at the office. There's a big project I've been working on, and it needs my attention. But don't you worry, boys. I'll be back before you know it."

Tommy’s gaze softens as he listens to Maria's words, a mixture of admiration and concern in his eyes. "Take care of yourself, honey. Of yourself and the little one." he says, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

Joel, now focused on flipping the pancakes, chimes in, his voice filled with reassurance. "You heard him, Maria. Take it easy and don't overdo it.”

Maria offers Joel and Tommy a soft smile, her gaze filled with gratitude and love, “Of course, I will. Now, how about those pancakes.”

Joel reaches for the syrup, pouring a generous drizzle over the golden-brown pancakes, the sweet fragrance filling the air. "Breakfast is served," he announces, placing the playe in front of Maria.

Maria's eyes light up with anticipation as Joel places the plate of steaming pancakes before her, "Thank you, Joel.”

Joel returns her smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's my pleasure, Maria.”

Joel's attention shifts as he hears the soft patter of footsteps descending the stairs. He turns, a warm smile spreading across his face as Ellie and Sarah make their way into the kitchen, their laughter and youthful energy filling the space.

The girls join the gathering at the kitchen island, their eyes lighting up at the sight of the tantalizing spread before them. They take their seats, excitement bubbling within them, ready to indulge in their father's culinary masterpiece.

"Blueberry pancakes! Dad, I love you," Ellie exclaims, her voice filled with unabashed delight. Without hesitation, she eagerly reaches for her fork, ready to dive headfirst into the culinary masterpiece before her.

Joel chuckles, his heart swelling with affection for his daughters. "Well, I love you too, you little shit. Even though you make my life so much more chaotic everday.”

Ellie's eyes sparkle with mischief as she flashes Joel a open mouthed smile, her mouth still full of pancake.

Sarah's laughter mingles with the sounds of breakfast, filling the room with her infectious joy. As she takes another bite of her pancakes, Joel's gaze shifts towards her, his eyes filled with both amusement and tenderness.

"And you, little miss," Joel says, his voice laced with playful reproach, “you’re no saint either.”

The laughter of Joel's daughters fills the kitchen, intertwining with the delicious aromas and the gentle melodies still lingering in the air. He watches as their smiles illuminate the room, their youthful energy contagious and their presence a constant reminder of the love that resides within these walls.

As the girls savor their breakfast, Joel takes a moment to soak in the scene before him. The familiar sights and sounds of the kitchen, the warmth of family gathering around the table, are the ingredients that nourish his soul. In these moments, he feels a profound gratitude for the simple joys that life has bestowed upon him.

The morning light continues to pour through the windows, casting a soft glow upon the scene, as if nature itself is bestowing its blessing upon this humble family gathering. Joel feels a sense of contentment settle within him, a reassurance that, despite the challenges and uncertainties that lie beyond their ranch, they have each other to lean on.

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Hollywood’s Sweetheart

Summary: In an alternate universe where the outbreak never occurred, Joel Miller leads a quiet and mundane life on a ranch with his two daughters and his brother. Their peaceful existence is interrupted when a fateful encounter brings Hollywood's beloved sweetheart into their lives, turning their world upside down.

pairing: Cowboy!Joel Miller x Singer!Actress!Reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Age-Gap (Joel is 41 and the reader is 26) Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Flirting, Joel Miller being a girl dad, Joel being hard on the outside but he is a softie, Ellie and Sarah being a chaotic duo, Ellie being a menace, Sarah being a sweetheart.

Chapters

001. — The Miller Family — [In the heart of Texas, nestled within the vast expanse of the countryside, lies the Miller family ranch. Have a look into the perfectly “normal” lives of the Miller family, and how their morning starts. ]

The year is 2023, and this is an au. Ellie and Sarah are both Joel’s daughters and are both 16 years old. The reader is a famous singer (think Taylor Swift), and a famous actress.

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don't have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Love, Lunacy, Time: Ch 2

summary: As the front door swings open, you are greeted by faces that stir a sense of recognition deep within you. Yet, something about their demeanor feels off, their behavior slightly peculiar. It's as if they are familiar, but not quite themselves. With each passing interaction, you begin to realize that there's more to Westview than meets the eye. The town holds secrets, and the allure grows stronger, drawing you deeper into its intricate web.

pairing: Moonknight x afab!ScarletWitch!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Strangers to Married, Flirting, Scarlet Witch!reader, Chaos Magic, Not an accurate representation of D.I.D.

previous

If it were any other situation, you would've gladly admired the beautifully decorated house you find yourself in. It's not every day that one finds themselves waking up within the walls of a meticulously decorated home in 1953.

Marc guides you down the wooden flight of stairs, ensuring that he takes the lead while keeping you safely behind him. You had observed the subtle shift in demeanor and accent as Steven relinquished control to Marc, and now you witness the embodiment of that change as Marc confidently leads the way.

When your eyes come in contact with the living room, you find yourself surrounded by an atmosphere that exudes warmth and comfort. The furniture, tastefully arranged in cozy clusters, invites you to take a seat and unwind. Plush, upholstered sofas and armchairs with floral patterns, beckon you to sink into their embrace.

The coffee table in the center of the room is adorned with a delicate lace doily, and a vase filled with freshly picked flowers sits as its centerpiece. The scent of the blossoms permeates the air, infusing the room with a natural sweetness.

Nearby, a wooden side table holds a stack of magazines, inviting you to peruse their pages and discover the latest trends and stories. You also notice a bookcase against the wall, filled with volumes of classic literature and well-loved novels.

The walls are adorned with framed black and white photographs, capturing cherished moments frozen in time. Pictures of you and your husbands. Smiles and laughter frozen in frames.

A long, white butler door stands on one wall, dividing the space between the living room and what you can assume is the kitchen. Next to the door, there's a three-paneled wood shutter that covers a pass-through window.

The windows, draped with floral patterned curtains, allow soft sunlight to filter into the room, casting a warm glow on the polished hardwood floor.

Nestled at the corner of the fireplace, within view of the sofa, stands a television, similar to the one you saw in the bedroom. Atop it sits a beautiful photograph of you, smiling at the camera.

Every corner of the living room holds a personal touch as if someone took great care in creating a haven of comfort and memories. Despite the unfamiliarity of the surroundings, a feeling of warmth and belonging begins to stir within you.

In the reflective surfaces scattered throughout the living room and the entrance area, you catch glimpses of Steven and Jake's reflections. Their reassuring smiles provide a comforting presence amidst the unknown.

But Marc's firm hand gently guides you toward the front door, diverting your attention from the comforting reflections. With each step, your senses heighten, and a sense of anticipation builds within you Marc reaches for the doorknob, his hand steady and composed. With a gentle turn, the door creaks open, revealing a sight that both shocks and relieves you in equal measure.

In front of you stand Layla and Bucky, their figures silhouetted against the soft glow of the morning sunlight streaming through the open door. They stand closely, their arms intertwined, and a bouquet of vibrant flowers rests gently in Layla's arm.

Marc's eyes fall upon Layla, a bit shocked by the dress she's wearing. The knee-length, short-sleeved dress is made of a soft, pastel blue fabric and the neckline is modest, with a rounded collar. The dress cinches at the waist, before flowing gently outward in a flattering A-line silhouette.

Layla is wearing low-heeled shoes and her curly hair is styled in an updo. Her wild curls still manage to peak out. This is the first time Marc has seen Layla embrace such a feminine look since he met her.

Your gaze lingers on Bucky, unable to tear your eyes away from your best friend. Don't let Loki hear you. That Drama Queen will prank you to the world's end. However, you can't deny the fact that you are caught off guard by Bucky's look.

For the first time since you met him back in 2013 when he was still the Winter Soldier, you have never seen his hair so short. Nor have you seen him in a suit and such a wide grin on his face. Your best friend only smiles like that for Alpine or if there are plums.

"Oh, my stars and garters! Look at you two lovebirds! Ain't you a dashing couple?" Layla greets you and Marc with a cheerful smile, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "We're your neighbours to the right. Our right, not yours."

Bucky steps forward, his grin widening, and extends his hand to Marc. "At your service, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, but you can just call me Bucky," he introduces himself with a hint of old-fashioned charm. "And this lovely dame by my side is my beautiful bride, Layla."

As you steal a glance at the mirror behind you, you catch sight of Steven and Jake's reflections. Their faces bear expressions of utter bewilderment, their gazes fixed upon Layla with a mix of surprise and shock, undoubtedly taken aback by her unexpected behavior. "What in the world?" you hear Steven exclaim from the mirror, his confusion mirroring your own.

Marc's eyes widen in astonishment, his brow furrowing as he struggles to comprehend what is going on. He can't help but echo Steven's sentiment. Why the hell is Layla talking like this? Sure, she had been exploring the dating scene, but married?

Marc hesitates for a moment, his confusion evident on his face, before he extends his hand to shake Bucky's in silence. His eyes dart between Layla's cheerful expression and Bucky's charismatic demeanor, struggling to find the right words in this peculiar situation.

Bucky, still grinning from ear to ear, releases Marc's hand and turns his attention to you. "Well, well, well, if it ain't the blushing bride herself," he says with a playful wink. "Layla here couldn't stop gushing about the two of you. Said you weren't able to keep your hands off each other in the lawn while moving furniture and whatnot."

Layla playfully swats her husband's chest, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, "Oh, darling, would you look at them now? Still in their nightwear and as quiet as church mice! I do declare, they must have had themselves a jolly late night, if you catch my drift!"

Bucky, his eyes widening in mock astonishment, puts a hand to his chest in an exaggerated display of shock. "Well, I'll be! Late nights and quiet mornings, eh? Seems like our new neighbors here know how to keep the fire burning, even in the wee hours!"

hearty laughter

The sudden, uproarious laughter rings throughout the room, catching you completely off guard. It emerges seemingly out of nowhere, startling you with its unexpectedness.

You exchange puzzled glances with Marc, your eyes widening in surprise as the laughter continues, echoing through the living room. Both you and Marc are left bewildered, unable to understand where it's coming from.

Bucky and Layla, however, remain unaffected, their smiles unwavering as they carry on their conversation, oblivious to the inexplicable laughter surrounding them. Marc and Jake both snap into a state of hypervigilance, their body instinctively tensing up. In a moment of instinctive connection, Marc's hand instinctively seeks yours, intertwining your fingers together.

Layla raises an eyebrow and glances at your intertwined hands with a playful smirk. "Well, I do declare, looks like our lovebirds here can't keep their hand off each other!"

Bucky turns to Layla with a wistful smile, his voice filled with fond memories. "It reminds me of us, darling. Do you recall that first week after we tied the knot? I simply couldn't bear to be apart from you, so I took a whole week off work, much to the boss's chagrin!"

"Don't remind me, honey," Layla says, her tone tinged with playful exasperation. Her gaze falls upon the bouquet of vibrant flowers still cradled in her arms, a realization dawning on her. "Oh, look at that, I still haven't given this to our neighbors. And they still haven't introduced themselves to us. You and Marc exchange a quick glance, silently communicating your decision. It's best to maintain the illusion and introduce yourselves as if you are a couple living in this era. You two need to figure out where you are before you go revealing everything.

It's clear that Layla and Bucky are unaware of who you and Marc truly are. They have no knowledge of the fact that Marc is good friends with Layla or that Bucky is your best friend. You give Marc a reassuring nod, a silent message to convey your support, and he takes a step forward, gently squeezing your hand as if to gather strength.

With the warmest smile Marc can muster, ensuring it appears genuine and welcoming, he glances at Bucky and Layla, careful not to appear stiff or forced. "Thank you, Bucky and Layla for the warm welcome and the beautiful flowers," Marc says, graciously accepting the bouquet from Layla, "My name's Marc Spector." He then turns his gaze towards you, gesturing for you to introduce yourself.

You warmly smile at the two, before stating your name and saying, "We really appreciate your warm welcome and the lovely flowers. It's great to meet friendly neighbors like you."

Layla speaks with genuine enthusiasm as she responds, "Oh, you're most welcome, dear! It's our pleasure to make you feel at home. We're so glad to have you as our neighbors."

Bucky gives a firm nod, a determined glint in his eyes, before speaking in a protective tone, "You two just give us a holler if anyone's giving you the slightest trouble, and I'll take care of them.”

You bit back a smile, silently acknowledging Bucky's protective offer. It seems that even in this unfamiliar setting, Bucky's instinct to protect his friends remains unchanged.

"Thank you, Bucky," you reply with a genuine smile, appreciating the sentiment behind his words. "We feel lucky to have such caring neighbors. We'll definitely let you know if we need any help."

Layla claps her hands together. "Oh, I do hope we'll be the best of friends, dearie! Why, we'll have tea parties and garden luncheons, and who knows what other delightful gatherings we can plan together?"

Bucky turns to Layla and gallantly plants a gentle kiss on her cheek, his voice filled with admiration. "Oh, my darling, you've sparked a brilliant idea within me."

Layla gazes at Bucky, her cheeks flushing with a rosy hue from the kiss on her cheek, “Pray, do tell, my love. What idea has taken hold of your imaginative mind?"

Bucky turns to you and Marc, his wide grin showcasing his excitement. "Why don't we continue this warm welcome and celebrate our newfound friendship over a delightful dinner? I must say, my dear, Layla and I would be absolutely honored to dine at your place this evening."

"Absolutely! It would be our honor to share a meal with our charming new neighbors. We'll bring a bottle of our finest wine to toast to our newfound friendship!" Layla adds while nodding her head in agreement.

You and Marc exchange another glance, both surprised by the swift invitation and the seemingly unchangeable plans already set in motion. You had hoped for a moment to gather your thoughts and discuss the situation privately, but it seems that Bucky and Layla have other ideas.

As Layla and Bucky bid you goodbye, their cheerful voices ringing in your ears, you find yourselves momentarily stunned. The rapid pace at which events unfolded has left you little room to process the situation or devise a plan.

Your mind races, trying to find a way to politely decline their invitation without revealing too much. But before you can utter a word, Layla playfully interrupts, "Oh, now don't you worry your pretty little heads, dearies! We've already decided. Tonight, at seven o'clock, we shall grace your doorstep for a delightful dinner together."

Bucky steps forward, extending his arm toward you, inviting you to take it. "Until tonight then, my dear neighbors," he says with a charming smile. "We'll leave you to get settled and prepare for our grand gathering. Farewell for now!"

You and Marc, still slightly stunned, manage to bid them goodbye, your words laced with a mix of confusion and curiosity. "Farewell, Layla and Bucky. We'll see you tonight," you say, trying to maintain composure while secretly wondering how you'll navigate this unexpected dinner party.

As Layla and Bucky bid you goodbye, their cheerful voices ringing in your ears, you find yourselves momentarily stunned. The rapid pace at which events unfolded has left you little room to process the situation or devise a plan.

Marc's grip on your hand tightens, mirroring the tension in his expression. You can sense the unease and confusion within him, mirroring your own thoughts. As the door closes behind Bucky and Layla, enveloping you in a momentary silence, the weight of the situation begins to settle upon you.

You take a deep breath, attempting to steady your racing thoughts. This unexpected turn of events has left you grappling with a myriad of questions. How did you end up in this meticulously decorated house in 1953? What happened to bring you here? And most importantly, how do you navigate this unfamiliar era without arousing suspicion or revealing your true identities?

The living room, once a haven of warmth and comfort, now feels foreign and daunting. The photographs on the walls that once showcased cherished moments now appear as enigmatic artifacts from a distant past. The scent of the flowers, once pleasant and inviting, now serves as a reminder of the surreal nature of your current reality.

You turn to face Marc, his eyes searching yours for answers that neither of you possesses. In the midst of uncertainty, you find solace in the fact that you have each other. Your connection, forged through shared experiences and the inexplicable journey that led you here, provides a sense of strength and unity.

Silently, you communicate your desire to retreat from the unfamiliarity of the living room, to find a moment of respite and privacy. Without exchanging words, you both make your way back up the wooden flight of stairs, seeking the familiarity of the bedroom you woke up in.

Once inside the room, you close the door behind you, shutting out the outside world for a brief moment. The air feels heavy with anticipation as you turn to face each other, the weight of the situation palpable.

"I can't believe this is happening," Marc finally breaks the silence, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and concern. "We need to figure out what's going on and how we ended up in the 50s. But we have to be careful. If Layla and Bucky suspect that something is wrong, it could complicate things.”

You nod in agreement, fully aware of the delicate nature of your predicament. "We need to gather information discreetly, without raising any suspicions," you suggest, your mind racing with possibilities. "Maybe we can explore the house further, look for clues or any hints of how we got here. We should also try to find a way to communicate with Steven and Jake without alerting anyone else."

Marc paces the room, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "Yes, that's a good plan. We need to be careful and gather as much information as we can before taking any action. It might be helpful to see if we can find any documents or personal belongings could tell us how we're connected to them."

You both share a moment of quiet contemplation, aware of the challenges that lie ahead. The thought of venturing into this unknown world, where every action and word must be carefully measured, fills you with a mix of trepidation and determination.

"We'll figure this out, together," you say, your voice filled with conviction.

Marc's eyes meet yours, a spark of resilience and trust igniting between you. "You're right," he replies, a glimmer of determination shining in his gaze. "No matter where or when we are, we'll always find a way. We'll navigate this mystery and return to our own time, I promise."

With a renewed sense of purpose, you and Marc prepare to face the challenges that lie ahead. The search for answers begins, and as you step back into the unknown, you know that your bond and unwavering determination will guide you through whatever obstacles may come your way.

The first obstacle being dinner with the Barnes.

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third-party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

taglist: @lalalily03, @cicithemess2000, @elliewilliamswhore

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Love, Lunacy, Time: Ch 1

summary: When you fall asleep in the Avengers Compound, you don’t expect your world to be turned upside down when they wake up in the 1950s, alongside a man who oozes Chaos.

pairing: Moonknight x afab!ScarletWitch!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Strangers to Married, Flirting, Scarlet Witch!reader, Chaos Magic, Not an accurate representation of D.I.D.

next

The morning sun seeps through sheer lace curtains, casting a warm golden glow upon the bedroom. Soft shadows dance along the walls, creating an atmosphere of tranquility.

The stillness of the morning hangs in the air, as if time itself pauses in quiet anticipation. Distant birdsong gently serenades the room, adding a touch of melody to the serene ambiance.

Like mischievous dancers, the sunbeams tiptoe across your features, tenderly awakening your senses. Gradually, the warmth spreads, seeping into your skin and tickling your brain with a delicate embrace of consciousness.

Slowly, you become aware of the softness of the sheets beneath you, cradling your body in gentle comfort. The rhythmic rise and fall of your chest accompanies the whispering stillness that surrounds you.

Reluctantly, you muster the strength to detach yourself from the embrace of sleep, the allure of remaining nestled in the comforting cocoon of your dreams tugging at you.

The desire to stay a little while longer in the softness of the bed is a tempting whisper in your mind.

As you rub your eyes, still in the process of awakening, you gather your thoughts and gradually sit up in bed. The realization dawns upon you that today is going to be a long day.

Last night, Steve called for a team training in the morning, a prospect that doesn't quite excite you, especially if you haven't had your daily dose of caffeine, much like Tony.

And hey, there's always one thing to look forward to after a grueling training session: Tony’s extravagant breakfast spread. The man knows how to satisfy the Avengers' appetites like no other.

From the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee to the mouthwatering display of culinary delights, the breakfast table becomes a haven of indulgence.

Waking with a contented sigh, your anticipation for breakfast lingers in the air. Stretching your arms high above your head, you allow the languid motion to wash away any remnants of sleep.

However, as your eyelids flutter open, any thoughts of a delicious breakfast and team training fade into the recesses of your mind.

The moment your eyes adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings, a sense of unease settles within you, overshadowing any lingering expectations.

The room that greets your gaze is far from what you had anticipated. Instead of the cozy familiarity of the Avengers compound, you feel like you have stepped into one of those vintage homey magazines in Steve’s room.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you take a moment to absorb the details of the room, while your eyes sweep across it.

The walls are painted in a soft, pastel hue, lending an air of serenity to the space. A dainty floral pattern adorns the curtains, their fabric billowing gently in the breeze.

The bed itself is adorned with a neatly arranged floral bedspread, its delicate patterns mirroring those of the curtains. As you run your fingers along the fabric, you can almost feel the intricate stitching beneath your touch.

A wooden dresser stands against one wall, adorned with a small mirror framed by delicate carvings. Its surface showcases a few cherished possessions —a photograph, you can’t see as you are still a bit disoriented, a porcelain trinket box, and a stack of handwritten letters.

Positioned snugly beside the dresser is a diminutive vintage television, the screen, encased in a wooden frame, rests upon sturdy legs.

Your gaze shifts from the television towards the left side of the room, where your attention is drawn to a closed door that leads outside the room.

A small vanity table, adorned with an array of beauty products, catches your attention. Lipsticks, powder compacts, and hair accessories are neatly arranged, as if awaiting the touch of a graceful hand.

A tall wooden closet stands proudly beside the vanity. Its polished surface reflects the gentle light that filters into the room, creating a subtle sheen.

As you sit there, a mix of emotions washes over you. There is a sense of curiosity tinged with confusion, as you grapple with the unknown. How did you end up in this room?

Your mind races, searching for answers and piecing together fragments of memories. Was this the doing of a new supervillian? Was it Thanos again?

After the exhausting battle between the Avengers and Thanos, where you almost lost your father-figure, Tony Stark and your mother-like, Natasha, you don’t think you can handle one again.

Especially after being snapped away for five years by that purple space grape. Not the best experience.

Questions swirl in your mind, each one vying for attention, but none providing a satisfactory answer. You try to recall the events leading up to this moment, but your memory remains frustratingly elusive.

Suddenly, your thoughts are interrupted by a faint rustling sound emanating from the left side of bed beside you. The noise draws your attention like a whisper in the wind, breaking the silence that envelops the room.

The stranger lying beside you emanates an air of tranquil serenity, his slumber undisturbed by the world around him. Rays of sunlight and your shadow gently caress his features, accentuating the delicate contours of his face.

His eyes, closed in peaceful repose, are framed by long lashes that brush against his cheeks. His brows, gracefully arched with an exquisite curvature. His nose, elegantly sculpted and gracefully arched.

His sun-kissed forehead is adorned with tousled curls of dark hair, ruffled by the embrace of slumber.

His lips, slightly parted in peaceful slumber, bear the subtle presence of a small, well-groomed mustache and his strong jawline is sculpted and chiseled.

You continue to gaze at him, almost compelled to keep looking at him. While observing him, a wave of curiosity washes over you. Who is he? How did you end up here together?

While you are pondering this, unconsciously, your hand extends, gliding gently through the air until your fingertips graze his cheek with utmost tenderness.

The touch is electric, sending a subtle current of warmth and connection coursing through your veins. His skin beneath your touch feels velvety and inviting, radiating a soothing heat that envelopes your fingertips.

A soft smile dances upon your lips, a reflection of the quiet awe that fills your being as you witness the tranquility that emanates from him.

With a delicate motion, your hand continues its exploration, guided by a mix of curiosity and reverence. Your fingers traverse the expanse of his cheek, tracing a path of featherlight caresses, to his forehead.

Gently, you brush away the curl that had playfully encroached upon his peaceful slumber, threatening to disturb his serene rest.

Just as your fingertips brush away the curl, a captivating glimmer of light captures your attention. Sunlight caresses your left hand, casting a radiant glow upon something that on your finger.

And there, adorning your ring finger, you notice two rings—a wedding band and an engagement ring.

Your heart skips a beat as realization settles within you, stirring a mix of emotions that cascade like a gentle waterfall. Married?

The word hangs in the air, heavy with implications and uncertainties. You can't deny the surge of anxiety that accompanies the newfound knowledge.

Without a second thought, a surge of urgency propels you to pull the blanket away from his body, your heart pounding with a mixture of confusion and apprehension.

As you reach for his left hand, a shiver of uncertainty runs down your spine, the weight of the unknown bearing down on your shoulders.

And then, as your eyes linger on his hand, the weight of the realization settles upon you like a heavy cloak. His wedding band.

The symbol of a commitment you cannot recall making, with a man whose name remains unknown.

A wave of unease washes over you, clouding the air with uncertainty. Questions flood your mind, each one more pressing than the last. Where are you? How did this happen? Why can't you remember? And most importantly, who is this man lying beside you?

You carefully withdraw your hand, your fingertips tingling with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. The silence in the room stretches, heavy with unspoken words and unexplained circumstances.

How did you end up in this unfamiliar room, married to a stranger? The circumstances defy logic, and a knot of unease tightens in your stomach.

A scream shatters the tranquility of the room, jolting you out of your contemplative state. Startled, your gaze darts to the source of the commotion—your left side—just in time to witness a sight that defies all expectations.

In an instant, the man lying beside you springs to life with an almost comical urgency. His body lunges forward, propelled by an inexplicable force, as if he's been startled by an invisible adversary.

With an uncoordinated tumble, he careens off the end of the bed, crashing unceremoniously onto the floor.

The abruptness of his awakening sends shockwaves through the room, breaking the fragile peace that had settled. As you watch his disoriented scramble, you can't help but feel a mixture of concern and confusion.

Swiftly casting aside the duvet, you scramble to onto your feet, with a sense of urgency, which proves to be a bit hard with this light blue, long feathered robe you find yourself wearing.

Caught between a state of curiosity and worry, you rush to the man's side, kneeling down beside him on the soft carpeted floor.

His eyes dart around the room, his breathing rapid and shallow as he tries to make sense of his surroundings.

"Hey, are you okay?" you ask, your voice filled with genuine concern. He looks up at you, his gaze filled with a mix of confusion and disbelief.

"What... where... who are you?" he stammers, his voice tinged with both fear and curiosity. His eyes scan your face, searching for any hint of recognition or familiarity.

"I... I don't know," you admit, your own voice wavering slightly. "I woke up here, just like you. I just remember falling asleep in my bedroom and then I was just here."

His eyebrows knit together, a furrow of concern etching across his forehead. "This is... this is insane. I told Marc not to eat that steak," he mutters, his words a mere whisper in the air.

The man's words hang in the air, leaving a sense of intrigue mingled with confusion. Who is Marc, and why would eating a steak have any connection to your current predicament?

The room is enveloped in an uncomfortable silence as you and the man exchange bewildered glances, both grappling with the bizarre circumstances that have brought you together.

Steven's gaze darts around the room, his eyes searching for anything familiar amidst the unfamiliar setting. As he takes in the vintage decor and the delicate details that adorn the space, his reflection catches his attention in the multitude of mirrors that grace the room.

His gaze lands upon Marc who is equally bewildered and struggling to comprehend the circumstances that surround them. Confusion lingers in his expression mirroring the perplexity etched across Steven's own face.

However, Jake stands in silence, his eyes fixed upon a black and white photograph hanging on the wall. Steven, curious about Jake's intense focus, traces his eyes to see what he is looking at from the mirror.

Walking closer to the photograph, Steven feels his breath catching in his throat as he observes the photograph in front of him. His heart skips a beat, and a shiver runs down his spine.

The realization dawns upon him, and his mind races to grasp the subject and concept captured within the frame.

In the photograph, you stand resplendent, adorned in a beautiful wedding dress that cascades elegantly around you. A bouquet of delicate flowers rests gently in your hands, completing the picture of radiant joy.

And beside you, Steven finds himself in that moment frozen in time, as your groom. Your arms are intertwined, a symbol of unity and shared commitment.

As Steven's gaze fixates on the photograph, his eyes trace the exquisite details, taking in every nuance and emotion captured within the frame. The significance of the date imprinted at the bottom of the photograph—July 12, 1952.

You stand beside Steven, peering over his shoulder as you both gaze at the photograph in front of you. A mixture of emotions swirls within you—confusion, and disbelief.

"Yeah, I forgot to mention it," you say softly, your voice tinged with a hint of disbelief. "It seems we're married. I noticed the rings on our fingers, and it's hard to ignore what that implies."

“MARRIED?!” Marc yells from the mirror, causing Steven and you to jump. “You know my last marriage ended. And now I am married again with a woman who I’ve never even met?!”

"Who was that?!" you question, your voice laced with panic. Instinctively, you turn around, your eyes scanning the room for the source of the voice. And then, to your surprise and growing unease, your gaze lands on Marc’s reflection in the mirror.

With practiced finesse, your delicate hands, peeking out from the feathery sleeves of your robe, deftly weave intricate gestures, conjuring a ball of magic within your grasp.

"¡Puedes vernos y escucharnos?!" Jake's voice echoes from another mirror, his words laced with a hint of disbelief and awe. [Can you see us and hear us?!]

"Sí, puedo, pero qué diablos está pasando?!" you reply, your voice filled with a mix of astonishment and confusion. [Yes, I can, but what the hell is going on?!]

You send a quick thanks to Nat for forcing you to learn various languages.

Marc, his gaze fixed on the swirling red encircling your hand, breaks the silence and draws your attention toward him. "Look," he begins, his voice earnest, "I can explain, as can Steven back there. But please, allow us the opportunity to explain."

His words hang in the air, a plea for understanding and patience. The weight of the unknown still lingers, but there is a glimmer of hope that explanations might shed light on the bewildering situation you find yourselves in.

"You've got one minute," you assert, channeling your inner Natasha with a determined tone. This mirror situation demands clarity, and you are determined to get some answers within the limited timeframe you've set.

Steven takes a deep breath, his voice filled with a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity. "I... I have Dissociative Identity Disorder or D.I.D.," he confesses, his gaze locked with yours. "It's a mental health condition where different identities, or alters, coexist within one body."

He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "Marc, Jake, and I... we share one body. Marc is the original host in the system. Each of us has our own distinct personalities, memories, and experiences. We don't always have control over who's in the driver's seat, so to speak."

You listen intently, absorbing this unexpected revelation. The complexity of the situation begins to unravel, and you try to grasp the implications of what Steven has just shared.

"Okay," you say, your voice softening as you take in the weight of their revelation. "I... I appreciate your honesty, Steven. This explains some of the confusion and the presence of multiple voices. But the mirror reflections?"

Steven nods, understanding the confusion his previous explanation may have caused. "The mirror reflections are a manifestation of our internal world," he explains. "For us, mirrors serve as a gateway to communication and connection between the three of us."

He gestures toward the mirror where Marc's and Jake's reflections had been nodding earlier. "When one of us takes control or wants to communicate, the other's reflection appears in the mirror. It's a way for us to interact and share our thoughts, even if we can't always be in control of the physical body."

You glance at the mirror, now understanding the significance it holds for them. The mysterious occurrences and the presence of their reflections suddenly make more sense. Having gained a deep understanding of Steven, Marc, and Jake's situation, you inhale deeply, allowing your powers to recede. The vibrant red ball of magic that had encircled your hand gradually dissipates, leaving you in your usual state.

"I... I think I understand," you say, a mix of curiosity and empathy coloring your words. "Thank you for sharing this with me. It's a brave and vulnerable thing to do."

Steven's eyes reflect a mixture of relief and gratitude as he meets your gaze. The weight of their secret seems to lighten, and a sense of trust begins to blossom between all of you. "Can you explain the magic?" Marc asks, his voice tinged with curiosity and a touch of skepticism. His curl falls onto his forehead, adding to his already perplexed expression. "I don't think people can usually hear us or see us." You shift your eyes toward Marc, acknowledging the genuine curiosity reflected in his eyes. Given the extraordinary nature of the magic you just demonstrated, it's only natural for skepticism to arise.

"It's something that has been a part of me since I was very young," you explain, your voice tinged with a touch of nostalgia. "My earliest memories involve me being able to use magic."

There's a hint of wistfulness in your tone as you convey the enigmatic nature of your powers. The memories associated with them feel distant, like fragments of a puzzle waiting to be assembled.

"I wish I could provide a definitive explanation," you continue, your voice tinged with sincerity. "But the truth is, even I don't fully understand the origin or extent of my powers. They've always been a part of me, and I've learned to control and harness them over the years."

"I can tell you that my powers are connected to my emotions," you add, offering a glimpse into the nature of your magic. "When I feel strongly about something, whether it's joy, fear, anger, or love, my powers tend to manifest in different ways. The magic you just witnessed was an example of that."

Steven's expression softens as he listens to your explanation, his skepticism gradually giving way to curiosity and understanding. "That's... incredible," he admits, his voice laced with a mix of awe and acceptance.

You chuckle and nod your head, feeling a warmth in your heart. "Thanks. Now, can I get an introduction to my husbands?" you ask playfully, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I am Steven Grant," he introduces himself with a warm smile. "I work at the gift shop in the British Museum." His voice carries a hint of enthusiasm as he speaks.

From the mirror reflection, you see Marc wave at you, his voice filled with a mix of confidence and a touch of weariness. "I'm Marc Spector. Former U.S. Marine, and a mercenary who's seen more than my fair share of action," he introduces himself, his eyes reflecting the weight of his past. A mischievous grin appears on Jake's face as he leans closer, in the mirror's reflection, his voice oozing with charm. "Me llamo Jake Lockley, hermosa," he says, his Spanish accent rolling off his tongue. [The name's Jake Lockley, beautiful.] You give them your own name, a warm smile gracing your lips as you extend your hand to Steven for a friendly handshake. "It's truly a pleasure to meet all of you, although, I wish it was under different circumstances."

Shaking hands, you are abruptly brought back to the present moment, reality sinking in as you take note of your vintage attire and the man's matching vintage nightwear. The nostalgic garments serve as a reminder that you and this man are in a different time. With your hand still in his clasp, Steven takes a step back from you, observing your appearance with a mix of intrigue and admiration. His eyes sweep over your long light blue feathery robe, noting the delicate elegance it adds to your figure.

His eyes then wander up to your hair, which has been meticulously curled in a style reminiscent of the year they are in. The waves cascade down, framing your face and adding a touch of timeless sophistication to your overall look.

As Steven takes in your attire and coiffed hair, he can't help but be captivated by your beauty. It's not merely the physical aspects that enchant him, but the way you carry yourself, exuding an aura of confidence and allure.

There's a certain glow about you, an inner radiance that shines through, making it clear that you possess a beauty that transcends mere appearances.

In this moment, as you both stand there, still relative strangers despite the intimate connection forged by your shared powers, Steven finds himself drawn to your presence. He feels a subtle stirring of curiosity, a desire to unravel the layers that lie beneath your enchanting exterior.

Marc and Jake share a knowing look as they catch Steven's lingering gaze upon you. Smirks creep across their faces, a silent acknowledgment of his unspoken thoughts and the emotions he harbors for you.

The sweet serenade of the doorbell fills the room, abruptly pulling you both out of the enchanting moment you shared.

Startled, you and Steven exchange a glance, your gazes filled with curiosity and a touch of confusion. Who could be at the door so early in the morning?

With a shared nod, you both make your way toward the front door, eager to unravel the mystery that awaits on the other side. The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one tinged with anticipation and a hint of apprehension.

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third-party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

taglist: @lalalily03, @cicithemess2000, @elliewilliamswhore

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Love, Lunacy, Time

summary: In a startling twist of fate, you find yourself awakening not in your bedroom at the Avengers compound, but alongside the Moon Knight boys in the 1950s in a sitcom-like setting of the town of Westview. The shock intensifies as you realize that, somehow, you and the Moon Knight boys are married to each other, despite never having crossed paths before.

pairing: Moonknight x afab!ScarletWitch!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Strangers to Married, Flirting, Scarlet Witch!reader, Chaos Magic, Not an accurate representation of D.I.D.

Chapters

001. — Lost in Time's Embrace — [You find yourself preparing for a peaceful night's sleep in the familiar confines of the Avengers compound. However, your world is turned upside down when they wake up in the 1950s, alongside a man who oozes Chaos.]

002. — Unfamiliar Familiar Faces — [As the front door swings open, you are greeted by faces that stir a sense of recognition deep within you. Yet, something about their demeanor feels off, their behavior slightly peculiar. It's as if they are familiar, but not quite themselves.]

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third-party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Galactic Vows: chapter I

Summary: Within the walls of Aurorium's regal abode, murmurs of an imminent betrothal flutter like delicate wings. All eyes are on the princess, awaiting her response to the proposal, and the future of the kingdom hung in the balance. The weight of tradition, duty, and love rests heavily on her heart as she contemplates her answer, knowing that with one word, she will change the course of history.

pairing: Manda'lor!Din Djarin x afab!Princess!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Royalty Au, Unprotected sex, Violence, Death, Blood, Age-Gap, Fluff, Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, possessive!Din, Powerful!reader, Dragons, Themes of war and political power, Trauma, Arranged marriage, Grogu being too cute you won't survive his cuteness, Emperor!Din.

next

The night sky is awash with a gentle radiance that filters through the trees, casting a serene glow upon the world of Asteralis. The moon, a divine lantern of the cosmos, illuminates the land with its soft light, transforming the darkness into a canvas of ethereal beauty.

The gentle beams filter through the leaves of the trees, painting intricate patterns of light and shadow upon the ground beneath them. It is a moment of pure tranquility, where the world seems to breathe in unison, and every creature seems to be in harmony with the peaceful night.

As the sun slowly descends beyond the horizon, the warm rays of its light embrace the land, a gentle kiss of warmth upon the cool marble tiles that lie beneath your bare feet.

The soft caress of a gentle, cool breeze envelops you, carrying with it the sweet aroma of blooming jasmine flowers. The fragrance fills the air, mingling with the subtle scent of the lush greenery of the royal gardens.

The petals of the flowers are as soft as velvet, each one a delicate work of art, and their fragrance is as intoxicating as the sweetest of loves. You inhale deeply, savoring the delicate fragrance that seems to embrace your senses, taking you on a journey of tranquility and calm.

Beneath your palms, the velvety touch of warmth embraces your lap, a comforting weight that brings solace. You sway gently on the swing, the rhythmic creak of the ropes harmonizing with the gentle rustle of the wind through the leaves. The enchanting moonlight illuminates Asteralis in a surreal glow, casting a magical spell over the kingdom. As you gaze at the mesmerizing sight, a wave of tranquility washes over you, lifting the weight of your princess duties off your shoulders.

"My jewel?"

The gentle whisper of your mother's voice calls to you, like a soft melody that slowly pulls you away from the tranquil cocoon of your thoughts. With a gentle turn of your head, you behold a regal figure standing in the doorway of your balcony. It is your mother, the Queen of Asteralis, and the very essence of her emanates an aura of authority and grace. Her attire is as majestic as the ruler that she is, every inch of her radiating the elegance and poise of a true queen.

Her eyes have an unspoken language of love, a depth of feeling that only a mother can possess, but also holds the weight of responsibility that matches her crown.

"What brings you here, mother?" You inquire your voice a gentle breeze that carries your words to her.

A playful glint sparks in her eyes as she makes her way towards you. "Must I have a reason to visit my beloved child?" she teases, her voice carrying the familiar lilt of affection that you have come to cherish.

The swing creaks gently as your mother settles down beside you, her elegant dress rustling softly against the fabric of the seat. You feel her gaze upon you, a weighty presence that studies your every feature with a deep knowing.

"Should I tell brother that you called me the favourite child?" You tease back, a mischievous smile gracing your lips.

The bond between you and your mother is one of love and laughter, a cherished connection that transcends the regal responsibilities that surround your life.

She chuckles softly, the sound carrying a hint of warmth. "Oh, he would be quite envious," she replies, her eyes glimmering with affection. "But my love for both of you is boundless and unwavering."

As the two of you sway on the swing, the gentle movement creating a soothing rhythm, you find comfort in this shared moment. The worries of the kingdom momentarily fade away, replaced by the simple joy of a mother and her child enjoying each other's company.

"So, my dear, have you heard the whispers in the halls?" she asks, her voice carrying a hint of anticipation.

Your curiosity piqued, you turn your attention fully to her, the warmth of her presence enveloping you. "Whispers?" you inquire, a note of intrigue in your voice.

Her eyes sparkle with a mix of excitement and tenderness. "There is talk of a proposal," she reveals, her words hanging in the air, filling the space between you.

You feel your heart skip a beat, a mixture of surprise and anticipation coursing through your veins. A proposal? The notion dances in your mind, weaving dreams of a future yet to be written. "Talks of a proposal?" Your voice trembles with uncertainty, the words lingering in the air as your mother's revelation takes root in your mind.

She nods gently, her eyes filled with a mother's wisdom and empathy. "Yes, my precious jewel," she begins, her voice carrying a soft cadence, "the Manda'lore himself has sent forth a proposal for the hand of the youngest Princess of Asteralis. It is a gesture that speaks volumes of his regard for our kingdom and his desire to forge a bond that unites our lands under a shared destiny."

You inhale deeply, the weight of the decision settling upon your shoulders. The moonlight casts a reflective glow upon the regal surroundings as if the very walls of the palace hold their breath in anticipation of your response.

"He is a leader of unwavering resolve," your mother continues, her voice carrying a mix of reverence and admiration. "His reign has brought stability to our people, and his unwavering dedication to the Mandalorian ways has earned him the respect of his warriors and the allegiance of neighboring lands."

Your heart skips a beat, a mixture of surprise and curiosity coursing through your veins. The Manda'lore? The legendary figure who commands the Mandalorian warriors with unwavering strength and honor. The very thought of a proposal from him fills your thoughts with a whirlwind of possibilities.

"He seeks a union that not only solidifies alliances but also lays the foundation for a future filled with unity and prosperity," she adds, her voice tinged with a mother's hope.

As she speaks, you find yourself caught between the weight of tradition and the whispers of your heart. The gentle breeze carries with it the fragrant scent of blooming flowers, their delicate petals mirroring the fragility of your thoughts.

"But, Mother, an arranged marriage? Is that what they're suggesting?" you inquire, searching her face for any hint of guidance.

Your mother's gaze softens, understanding the conflict that stirs within you. She reaches out to gently touch your hand, offering comfort and reassurance.

"Yes, my dear, it is an arranged union," she acknowledges, her voice gentle and soothing. "But it is not merely a transaction of power and alliances. The Manda'lore's proposal carries with it the potential for something greater. It is an opportunity to build bridges between our kingdoms, to forge a bond that goes beyond politics and secures a future of peace and prosperity."

Her words resonate within you, and you can sense the depth of her conviction. Yet, a part of you yearns for the freedom to choose your own path, to follow the whispers of your own heart.

"I understand the weight of duty, Mother," you say, your voice tinged with both respect and a hint of longing. "But what about love? Shouldn't that be a part of such a union?"

A contemplative silence falls between you, the moon casting its gentle glow upon the world as you both gather your thoughts. Your mother's eyes hold a mixture of empathy and understanding.

"Love, my precious jewel, is a complex tapestry," she replies, her voice carrying the wisdom of experience. "It can bloom from the seeds of friendship, respect, and shared dreams. The foundation of this proposed union is one built on trust and the shared desire for a better future. Love has the potential to grow within such a partnership, as two souls learn to navigate the intricacies of their hearts."

Her words resonate within you, and you find yourself pondering the possibilities. The moonlight bathes the surroundings in a serene glow, as if nature itself is urging you to listen to the whispers of your own heart.

"Ultimately, my dear, the decision rests with you," your mother continues, her voice gentle but firm. "You are the youngest Princess of Asteralis, and your happiness and fulfillment are of paramount importance. I will support you in whatever path you choose, whether it aligns with tradition or leads you on a different journey."

You take in her words, grateful for her understanding and unwavering support. The weight of the decision still lingers, but the seed of possibility has been planted within your heart.

"Thank you, Mother," you say, your voice filled with gratitude and a newfound sense of determination. "I will consider the proposal and listen to the whispers of my own heart. Whatever path I choose, I hope to honor our kingdom and our legacy."

Your mother smiles, a blend of pride and affection shining in her eyes. "I have no doubt that you will, my dear," she replies, her voice brimming with confidence. "Remember, you have the strength and wisdom within you to shape your own destiny. Trust yourself, and the answers will reveal themselves."

Emboldened by your mother's words, you feel a renewed sense of purpose. The night sky seems to shimmer with newfound possibilities, and you find solace in the gentle embrace of the swing.

As you and your mother continue to sway back and forth, you take a moment to reflect on the magnitude of the decision before you. The proposal from the Manda'lore holds the potential for great change, not only for yourself but for the kingdom of Asteralis.

You contemplate the vision of unity and prosperity that your mother spoke of, and you can't help but wonder if such a union could bring about a future where love and duty intertwine. The notion of love blossoming from a foundation of trust and shared dreams resonates deeply within you, and you realize that perhaps the path to happiness lies in finding a balance between tradition and personal desire.

With each passing moment, the night sky grows darker, stars twinkling like beacons of guidance. The moon continues its celestial journey, casting its ethereal glow upon the world. And as you sit on the swing, immersed in your thoughts, you begin to listen to the whispers of your own heart, knowing that it holds the key to your destiny.

The decision may not be an easy one, but with the love and support of your mother, you feel empowered to follow your own path, whether it aligns with tradition or veers in a different direction. You trust that, in due time, the answers will reveal themselves, and you will make a choice that honors both your own happiness and the legacy of Asteralis.

With a newfound sense of clarity and determination, you take one last gaze at the enchanting night sky, its beauty serving as a reminder that even amidst uncertainty, there is always a glimmer of hope. You turn to your mother, a silent understanding passing between you, and together you rise from the swing, ready to face the challenges and opportunities that lie ahead.

Hand in hand, you walk back into the palace, your hearts filled with love, trust, and the unwavering bond between a mother and her child. And as you step forward into the unknown, the night sky continues to watch over you, a tapestry of stars illuminating your path.

As the first rays of sunlight breach the horizon, a palpable sense of anticipation fills the air. The golden hues of dawn paint the sky, casting a warm glow that embraces the world with a gentle embrace.

The dawn chorus of birdsong weaves a melodious tune, adding to the symphony of excitement that stirs within the palace walls.

You step into the new day, the polished marble floors cool beneath your feet. Each breath you take is infused with a mixture of nervous anticipation and quiet determination. The sun's gentle caress upon your face feels like a reassuring touch, inspiring confidence as you make your way towards the throne room.

Approaching the grand entrance, the doors stand tall and imposing, intricately carved with symbols of the kingdom's history. With a steady hand, you push them open, revealing a world of regal splendor beyond.

As you enter, the room exudes an aura of grandeur. Soft sunlight filters through stained glass windows, casting a mosaic of vibrant colors upon the floor. The air hums with restrained energy, as if the very walls hold their breath in anticipation of the decision that awaits.

At the heart of the chamber, your older brother stands tall, exuding an air of authority, accompanied by his beloved husband, General Cadmus, whose presence radiates strength and loyalty.

Across the room, your sister stands gracefully, her regal stature accentuated by the presence of her husband, Lord Cedric, whose unwavering support is evident in his attentive gaze.

Upon the majestic thrones sit your parents, the King and Queen, their expressions a delicate balance of pride, love, and hope. Their presence commands respect, yet their eyes sparkle with warmth and understanding.

The hushed whispers of anticipation reverberate through the throne room, as all eyes turn toward you, the youngest Princess of Asteralis. The chamberlain, courtiers, nobles, and council members fill the opulent space, their presence a testament to the gravity of the moment.

You stand at the center, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves and meet the expectant gaze of your father, the King.

His voice, deep and resonant, fills the room as he addresses you with measured words, giving weight to each syllable. "My dear daughter," he begins, his eyes reflecting a mixture of authority and paternal love, "the time has come for you to share your thoughts and intentions regarding the proposal that has been laid before us."

You feel the weight of his words, the collective gaze of those assembled, and the weight of tradition bearing down upon you. In this moment, you draw strength from the teachings of your mother and the whispers of your own heart.

You take a step forward, the air is thick with anticipation, and a serene determination settles upon your features as you begin to speak.

"Father, honored members of the court," your voice carries through the room, its timbre steady and resolute. You take a moment to gather your thoughts, allowing the weight of your decision to settle within you.

"I have given careful consideration to the proposal put forth by the Manda'lore," you continue, your voice filled with a sense of conviction. "And after much reflection and listening to the whispers of my heart, I stand before you today to affirm my acceptance of this union."

A hushed silence fills the throne room as your words hang in the air. All eyes remain fixed upon you, waiting for your next words, and the anticipation is palpable.

"I understand the significance of this decision, not only for the kingdom of Asteralis but for the future of our people," you express, your voice carrying a mix of responsibility and determination. "It is my belief that this union holds the potential to strengthen our alliances and pave the way for a future of unity and prosperity."

As you speak, you feel a surge of confidence welling within you, fueled by the knowledge that you are making a choice based on a combination of duty, trust, and the possibility of love.

"I embrace this proposal with an open heart and a steadfast commitment to honor the traditions and values of our kingdom," you proclaim, your voice echoing with sincerity. "I am prepared to embark on this journey, knowing that it will require dedication, understanding, and resilience."

As the last words leave your lips, the room erupts into a symphony of emotions. The silence breaks, replaced by whispers, murmurs, and exclamations of surprise and approval. Courtiers exchange glances, their faces a mixture of curiosity and intrigue.

Your brother, the Crown Prince, steps forward, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sister," he says, his voice filled with pride, "your decision speaks volumes of your wisdom and dedication to our kingdom. May this union bring forth the unity and prosperity we all strive for."

General Cadmus, standing by your brother's side, nods in agreement. "I have no doubt that together, our kingdoms will thrive," he adds, his voice resonating with confidence and support.

Your sister, radiant with joy, takes a step closer to you. "Little sister," she says, her voice filled with affection, "I am overjoyed to witness this moment. Your courage and willingness to embrace this path inspire me. May this union bring you the happiness and fulfillment you deserve."

Lord Cedric, standing beside your sister, places a hand on her shoulder and nods in agreement. "Our kingdoms shall stand united, and our families will share a bond that strengthens us all," he affirms, his voice filled with conviction.

The room buzzes with conversations, as nobles and council members discuss the significance of this decision. Your parents, the King and Queen, exchange a knowing glance, their eyes shimmering with pride and love.

Your father, the King, steps forward, his voice carrying the weight of his authority and the warmth of a father's love. "My dear daughter," he says, his voice resonating with pride, "your decision to accept this union fills my heart with pride and joy. Your dedication to our kingdom and your willingness to forge a path of unity and prosperity are commendable. May this union be blessed by the gods and lead us to a future of peace and harmony."

Your mother, the Queen, approaches you with grace and tenderness. She takes your hands in hers, her eyes shimmering with a mix of emotions. "My precious jewel," she whispers, her voice filled with love, "your strength and conviction inspire me. As you embark on this journey, know that you carry the legacy of Asteralis within you. May this union bring you fulfillment and the love your heart desires."

Tears well up in your eyes as you feel the overwhelming support and love surrounding you. In this moment, you realize that you have made a decision that aligns with your duty, your heart, and the aspirations of your kingdom.

As the throne room begins to settle, your father raises his hand, signaling for silence. The room falls into hushed anticipation, awaiting his next words.

"Let it be known," he proclaims, his voice resonating with authority, "that the youngest Princess of Asteralis has accepted the proposal of the Manda'lore. May this union bring forth a future of unity, strength, and prosperity for our kingdom."

The chamberlain steps forward, a scroll in hand, ready to record the momentous decision in the annals of history. With a steady hand, he begins to write, etching the words that will forever mark this day in the story of Asteralis.

And as the ink dries upon the parchment, sealing your acceptance of the proposal, you feel a surge of hope and determination coursing through your veins.

The path ahead may be filled with challenges and unknowns, but with the support of your loved ones and the resilience within your heart, you are ready to embrace this union and carve a future that blends duty and love, tradition, and personal fulfillment.

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Echoes of Sanctuary: chapter I

Summary: in a post-apocalyptic world consumed by darkness, Marlene entrusts hardened survivors Joel and Tess with a critical mission: to escort a mysterious and valuable cargo, Ellie, to the State House. Driven by their own desperate needs, they reluctantly accept. Little do they know that their path will intersect with an unexpected guest, whose presence will ignite a spark of hope and challenge the walls around Joel's heart.

pairing: Joel Miller x afab!doctor!reader - main

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, Possessive!Joel, Immune!reader, Sarah is alive!

next

Crawling up ladders at the age of 56 was a lot more difficult than it seemed. Each rung felt like an arduous climb, a reminder of the weariness that had settled deep into Joel's bones.

Joel had always prided himself on his resilience, but as he clutched onto the rungs with a stubborn determination, he couldn't deny the aches and groans that escaped his weary body.

He had faced infected hordes, survived countless battles, but this seemingly innocent ladder was his latest nemesis.

Tess, who was no spring chicken herself at the age of 56, somehow managed to navigate the ladder with more grace than Joel could muster.

She shot him a knowing smirk, a twinkle in her eye, as if silently mocking his struggles.

Joel grumbled under his breath, his grizzled features creased with both annoyance and amusement. “I'm just savin' my energy for when it really counts."

Tess can’t help but snicker at Joel’s defense, her voice laced with a hint of playful sarcasm. "Sure, Joel, whatever helps you sleep at night. Just hope you don't break a hip on the way up.”

Joel shot Tess a mock glare, his lips curling into a half-hearted smile. "Don't you worry 'bout me, Tess. I've been through worse, and I ain't lettin' no damn ladder get the best of me."

"That's the spirit, old man. You keep fightin' those ladders, and I'll be right here to catch you if you fall."

Both continued their ascent, their determined grip on the ladder never wavering. The strains of their banter echoed through the narrow space. Finally reaching their intended destination, both Joel and Tess stepped off the ladder, their feet firmly planted on the solid ground.

"So, this opens into the hallway," Tess stated, her voice steady as she approached a small panel door.

With a confident push, her brow furrowed in frustration as the door stubbornly refused to budge. The weight of disappointment hung heavy in the air as their path forward remained blocked.

"What the f? Someone put a piano in front of this?" Tess exclaimed, her frustration evident in her voice.

Joel, ever vigilant, swept his flashlight across the room, its beam slicing through the darkness and revealing the debris and decay that surrounded them. His eyes narrowed, searching for any signs of danger.

And that's when he catches a whiff of it. A peculiar scent that sends his senses into overdrive.

Joel's eyes narrowed as he took a long, deliberate sniff of the air. His face scrunched up in a mix of concern and familiarity, "You smell that?" Tess abruptly halted her attempts to push open the stubborn door, her gaze fixated on Joel's flashlight beam as it illuminated the surface

"Yeah, gunpowder," Tess stated with a mix of intrigue and wariness, her voice steady despite the underlying tension. Both Joel and Tess leaned in, their eyes fixated on the narrow gap beneath the door. The beam of Joel's flashlight pierced through the darkness, casting an eerie glow on the scene before them.

Blood, dark and foreboding, seeped out from the bottom of the door.

Without hesitation, Joel and Tess sprang into action, their weapons drawn with practiced precision. The room was suddenly electrified with palpable tension as their instincts kicked in, honed by years of surviving in this unforgiving world.

Joel's voice carried a sense of urgency, his tone filled with a mix of caution and concern. "Tess," he warned, his voice a low rasp. Tess, undeterred by the warning, squared her shoulders and pushed open the door with a determined force. Her muscles tensed as she leaned into the resistance, channeling her strength into the task at hand.

With a resounding thud, the door gave way under Tess's relentless push. The weight that had blocked their path is pushed away and the door swung open, revealing the hallway. Tess led the way, her steps purposeful and calculated, her gun held firmly in her hands. Joel followed closely behind, his own weapon at the ready, his senses heightened.

Turning to her left, Tess was met with a sight of Robert's lifeless body lying sprawled on the ground. Her face twisted in disgust, her eyes tracing the path of his failed attempt at deceit.

Her steps measured, Tess approached the body, her flashlight casting a harsh beam upon the dead car battery that Robert had so desperately tried to sell them. She knelt down, her features a mix of contempt and disappointment.

"Well, the battery's no good," Tess muttered, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and vindication. Her flashlight then moved upward, illuminating Robert's lifeless face.

"You still tried to sell it. Twice," she said, her tone cutting through the silence with a bitter edge. The weight of their need for that battery, their hopes pinned on a false promise, hung heavy in the air. Joel's gaze shifted from the hallway to Tess's side, where Robert's lifeless form lay. A mix of detachment and resignation was etched into his features, his eyes reflecting the harsh realities of their world. Sympathy and remorse had long been stripped away, leaving behind a hardened survivor with a grim determination to persevere.

Plus there was no sympathy in Joel's heart for the man who had attempted to rip him off. The battery was crucial for his journey, for the hope of reuniting with Tommy. The bond between them, forged through their shared experiences and the desperate need for family in a desolate world, was unbreakable.

But it was a bond Joel guarded closely, for the pain of losing Sarah still lingered, an ever-present ache.

His thoughts momentarily flickered to his daughter, Sarah, her name a bittersweet echo in the recesses of his mind. He swiftly pushed it aside, burying the memories deep within him. The wounds of the past were still raw, the loss too great to bear openly.

Suddenly, a guttural cry shattered the stillness, tearing through the air and shattering their focused state.

Without hesitation, both Joel and Tess sprang into action, their movements fluid and purposeful as they traversed the hallway strewn with lifeless bodies. Their senses heightened, their guns held firmly in their hands. Joel's worn boots resounded in the dimly lit corridor, every step deliberate and cautious. Each footfall reverberated through the stale air as he assumes lead.

Tess's grip on her weapon tightened, her knuckles turning white as she braced herself for the impending danger. The eerie symphony of hushed whispers and agonized moans reverberated through the desolate hallway, encroaching upon Tess and Joel with unsettling proximity. As Tess and Joel neared the junction of a dimly lit, claustrophobic hallway, the cacophony of agonized cries and moans grew in intensity

Joel pressed himself against the wall, his movements slow and deliberate. With his back against the cold surface, he peered around the corner, his weathered eyes scanning the hallway to identify the source of the pained voices.

With weathered eyes squinting, he cautiously peered around the corner, to see a woman helping another injured woman off the ground. The injured woman, struggling to stand on her own, leaned heavily on her companion for support. Silently, Joel stepped into the hallway, his gun held steady, his movements deliberate. Like a shadow in the night, he traversed with eerie grace, his presence almost imperceptible. Tess, her focus consumed by the ominous surroundings, followed closely behind.

As Joel reached the midpoint of the dimly lit hallway, the silence was abruptly shattered as the door to his right swung open with a forceful momentum. The suddenness of the movement jolted his senses, his instincts kicking into high gear.

In a swift and unexpected motion, a figure lunged at Joel with a pocket knife gripped tightly in their hand. With fluid grace, Joel deftly evaded the attacker's desperate lunge, pivoting on his heel and redirecting their momentum.

The attacker collided with the unforgiving left wall of the dimly lit hallway, their grip on the knife loosening as their balance faltered, and lands near his feet.

In a split second, Joel and Tess' guns are leveled at his attacker, the cold steel reflecting their unwavering resolve.

"Fuck." escaped the lips of the unexpected assailant, punctuating the tense silence that enveloped the room.

As the word hung in the air, Joel's gaze sharpened, his eyes fixating on the figure before him.

And then he saw her—a teenage girl, her piercing eyes locked onto his own.

"Joel?"

The sound of his name pierced through the air, disrupting the momentary distraction the girl had created. Joel's head snapped away from the young girl, his gaze locking onto the injured woman who had called out to him. "Marlene?" Joel's forehead creased in a perplexed frown, his confusion apparent.

Marlene and the woman standing by her side fixated their unwavering gazes upon him, their guns held steady with unsettling precision.

With a practiced eye, Joel honed in on the subtle cues that revealed Marlene's concealed injury. The way she gingerly placed pressure on her left hip, the slight tension in her posture—it was clear that she was nursing a gunshot wound. Marlene's concerned gaze shifted from Joel to the young girl, her voice filled with a mixture of worry and curiosity. "You okay?" she inquired, her eyes searching for any signs of distress or injury.

The girl's response was curt, her attention fixed unwaveringly on Joel. "Yeah," she replied, her voice betraying a hint of caution and wariness.

With a keen eye, the girl noticed her pocket knife lying near Joel's feet, its gleaming blade beckoning her. Determined to retrieve it, she stretched out her hand, inching closer. However, her attempts were abruptly halted as Joel deliberately stepped on the knife, his intense gaze fixed upon her.

"Ellie. Ellie!" Marlene's urgent voice pierced through the tense air, instantly capturing Ellie's attention.

Startled, Ellie's eyes darted towards Marlene, her body instinctively tensing for a threat. Her gaze quickly shifted to Marlene's wounded form, her heart skipping a beat at the sight.

"Oh shit!" Ellie exclaimed, her voice tinged with concern and worry.

"No, it's okay. I'll be all right." Marlene reassured the girl, her voice tinged with a sense of detached concern. "And you can't be stupid like this."

"So this is who Robert screwed us over with? The Che Guevara of Boston?" Tess's voice cut through the tension, her words dripping with a mix of disbelief and contempt. Her gun, once aimed at Ellie, now hung loosely at her side, her focus shifting to Marlene and the woman standing beside her.

Tess added with a touch of sarcasm, "War must be goin' pretty shitty for you to be buying from scumbags like him."

"Yeah, it kinda has been. The merch was bad, and he obviously didn't take "fuck off" for an answer." Marlene responded, her voice honest and tired. "Gimme my knife," Ellie demanded from her position on the ground, her eyes fixed on her pocket knife that Joel had stepped on.

Ignoring the teenager, Joel's gaze remained fixed on Marlene, his voice steady and guarded. "What do you need a car battery for?" Just as Ellie moved to snatch her knife from under Joel's shoe, he swiftly turned towards her, his gun instantly pointed right at her. His eyes held a mix of caution and determination as he firmly commanded, "Don't."

"Not at her." A voice, unfamiliar and laced with an air of authority, pierced through the tension that hung in the air.

The words carried a weight that demanded attention, causing Tess, Joel, and their companions to pivot on their heels, their gazes fixated on the source of the enigmatic voice.

Standing tall and formidable, a woman emerged from the shadows, her presence emanating a dangerous energy. With unwavering focus, her gun was aimed straight at the back of Tess' head. The intensity of the moment hung heavy in the air, each heartbeat echoing with anticipation.

"Don't you dare point a weapon at her." The woman warns, pushing her gun into the back of Tess' head.

Joel's narrowed gaze intensified, his fingers instinctively tightening around the grip of his gun. The woman's audaciousness hung in the air, igniting a palpable tension that crackled with electricity.

"Easy now," Joel's voice rumbled with a touch of caution, his words dripping with a hint of weariness. "No need to go makin' any sudden, foolish moves now."

The woman's unwavering gaze remained fixed on Tess, her finger twitching on the trigger. A flicker of determination, sharp as a blade, shone through her eyes. Her voice carried a steely resolve, laced with a fierce protectiveness that reverberated through her words. "You so much as breathe wrong, and your friend here won't be breathin' at all."

"Now, ma'am, let's all just take a step back here," Joel spoke with a mix of authority and diplomacy. "We don't want no harm to come to nobody."

The woman's grip on the gun tightened, her eyes darting between Joel and Tess. Her voice held an edge of warning as she responded, her protective instincts guiding her actions. "Should’ve thought of that before pointing a gun at a child.”

Joel suppressed a weary sigh, his breath escaping through gritted teeth. "I ain't exactly proud of it, but I got my reasons." The woman's gaze narrowed to a razor's edge, her fingers locked unwaveringly around the grip of the gun. "We've faced our fair share of hell, but we don't go pointing guns at children."

Marlene's lips part, and a name slips from her tongue followed by his own, catching Joel's attention as he notices your eyes shifting away from him, fixating on Marlene.

“Enough. Both of you. And to answer your question, Joel, I need it for a better reason than you do. No offense, but Tommy's just one man. It's our business to know things."

Joel's gaze hardened as he locked eyes with Marlene, his voice thick with anger, "'To know things?' You're the cause of it. You turned my own brother against me.

"Okay, Joel. That was a lot of gunfire. FEDRA's gonna be on the way." Kim, the woman standing next to Marlene, spoke urgently.

Marlene sighed, frustration evident in her voice. Her gaze shifted from Ellie to you positioned behind Tess. "I know," Marlene replies wearily. "We were gonna move her and Ellie outta the zone tonight. But we won't make it anywhere like this. Not for a while anyway. So now I'm thinkin', you're gonna do it."

"Absolutely not!" "The hell we are." "I'm not goin' with them!"

Simultaneously, you, Joel, and Ellie express their refusal, prompting Marlene to release a sigh and massage her forehead in a gesture of frustration.

Emerging from behind Tess, you glide over to Ellie's side, where the young girl envelops you in a tight embrace, encircling your waist with her arms.

"Let me take her, Marlene." For the first time, since you have been in the room, your voice softens, a stark contrast to its previous harshness. Marlene vehemently shakes her head and says, "Absolutely not. I cannot allow you to go anywhere alone. Marc will have my head if something happens to you."

"Tess, we don't have time for this." Joel turns around and gives his friend an exasperated look, silently expressing his frustration.

"You have time to point a gun at a child, but you don't have time to take her somewhere safe." You sneer in a hushed voice, her taunts barely audible. However, Joel's keen ears manage to catch your words.

"Who are they?" Tess questioned, her voice laced with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

"To you? They're Cargo." Marlene retorted with a hint of cold detachment in her voice.

Joel narrows his eyes at his best friend, "We don't smuggle people. Sorry." His voice was resolute yet devoid of remorse, a defiant undertone resonating through the air.

"I can do it." Kim asserted, her voice laced with determination. She turned back to Marlene, her gaze unwavering.

"Kim, you don't have a fuckin' ear on your fuckin' head. Could you please?" Marlene retorted, her response laced with frustration, her voice raised in a fiery tone. Your and Joel's eyes wander towards Kim's face, it naturally settles on her head, only for their attention to be immediately drawn to the absence of an ear.

As you attempts to brush past Joel, he feels her movement halted by the unexpected embrace of the young girl wrapped around her waist. Joel senses the girl's firm grip and realizes that she's determined to keep you by her side.

Marlene's voice trembles with urgency as she addresses Joel, her eyes pleading for his understanding. "There's a team of Fireflies waiting for them at the old State House. I know what's out there. We were going with an entire squadron for that very reason. But now I don't have a truck, I don't have a squadron, FEDRA's five minutes away. What I do have is you. And I know what you're both capable of. For better or worse."

Ellie's voice breaks through the tension as she releases her grip on your waist and turns to face Marlene. Her eyes are filled with curiosity and a hint of apprehension. "What are they capable of?" she asks, her voice laced with a mixture of innocence and a desire for reassurance. Marlene's gaze shifts past Ellie, her focus now solely on Joel. Her tone is determined and persuasive as she lays out her offer. "You get them there safely, and they'll give you what you need. Not just a battery. The whole thing. Fueled-up truck, guns, supplies, all of it. I swear."

Joel's grip tightens on his gun as he studies Marlene, a mixture of anger and confusion evident on his face. "You expect me to trust you? To trust her?" He gestures toward you and Ellie, who goes back to clinging to her for protection. "I swear," Marlene repeated, her voice tinged with desperation. "I know it's a lot to ask, Joel. But please."

Joel's gaze shifted towards Tess, his questioning eyes seeking her input. Without a word, Tess responded with a sharp jerk of her head to the side, a silent gesture of caution and skepticism.

Joel's eyes shifted toward you and Ellie, and a flicker of suspicion crossed his face. He furrowed his brow and discreetly nudged the girl's knife, concealed beneath his boot, further away from the two. "Asshole!" Ellie seethed through clenched teeth, her frustration evident as she directed her anger at the man.

Joel kept his gun firmly trained on Marlene as he walked over to Tess, his eyes shifting back and forth between you and Ellie.

Sensing the need for a private conversation, he motioned for Tess to join him, and they moved a few steps away from the rest of the group, creating a small pocket of privacy. "You trust her?" Joel asked Tess, his voice filled with a mix of trust and reliance on her judgment.

Tess shook her head, her expression reflecting her own lack of trust, "No, me neither, but she seems desperate." Joel's voice carried a mix of skepticism and calculation as he interjected, "Firefly vehicle usually means repurposed FEDRA stuff. So better-than-decent chance makin' it to Tommy in one of those. The second we hand the kid over-" Marlene, her voice strained and filled with urgency, interjected from a distance, interrupting the conversation between Joel and Tess. Her hand instinctively pressed against the wound on her hip, where blood seeped through her fingers.

"Y'all talk it through," Marlene called out, her voice slightly weakened by pain, "but please remember that I'm bleeding out."

Tess and Joel exchanged glances, their eyes locked in a silent exchange as they weighed their options. The gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air, their minds racing with possibilities and consequences.

In a sudden and decisive move, Tess broke the silence, and stepped closer, until she is side by side with Ellie and you, her voice firm but tinged with a hint of warning. "Okay. Here's the deal. We'll get them to your crew at the State House. But before we hand them over, they give us everything that we want. If not, we kill her, there and then."

"Deal," Marlene responded immediately, a hint of satisfaction evident in her voice as she fought to suppress a smirk. Marlene was acutely aware that if Joel and Tess ever dared to harm you in any way, the infected roaming the world would pale in comparison to the wrath of Marc.

The sheer protectiveness and fierce devotion he held for you meant that no harm could befall her without invoking his relentless fury.

"Really? That fast?" Ellie shot back, her voice tinged with a mixture of astonishment and disbelief.

You divert her attention to you, brushing Ellie's hair away from her forehead, your touch a soothing gesture amidst the tension. "You are all that matters." You gently say, your words imbued with genuine care and concern.

Marlene's voice softens as she addressed Ellie, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and reassurance. "She's right, Ellie. You two are what matters most. My team won't jeopardize your safety. Remember what I told you? Now go get your backpack." When Ellie remained rooted in place, Marlene's attention shifted to you, her desperation conveyed through her pleading eyes Nodding at Marlene, you gently lift Ellie's head by her chin, your touch filled with a mix of tenderness and determination. With a soft smile, you speak to her, your voice filled with reassurance and warmth. "Come on, Ellie. Let's go grab our backpacks."

Understanding the urgency of the situation, you firmly grasp Ellie's hand and guide her toward the room ahead, where your backpacks are stored.

The sound of footsteps echoes behind you as you enter the room, swiftly retrieving your belongings. Within moments, you and Ellie emerge, backpacks in hand, ready to embark on the next leg of the journey.

As you step out of the room, you lock eyes with Marlene, who offers a reassuring nod. Her expression conveys a mixture of concern and hope, urging you to stay safe. A brief smile graces your lips as a wordless acknowledgment of her support.

Tess takes the lead, her voice cutting through the tension, "Let's go." With determined strides, she paves the way towards the entrance they initially entered through, beckoning you and Ellie to follow.

Marlene's smile lingers as she watches you, silently conveying her trust and confidence in your capabilities. "Stay safe," she whispers.

The two of you followed closely behind, pushing past Joel with determined force. There was no time for hesitation or second-guessing, and you were determined to make sure Ellie was safe. Joel's gaze lingered on you and the little girl as you two walked away, disappearing around a corner, and following behind Tess. Uncertainty gnawed at him, his trust in you and the girl still fragile and untested.

"Joel," Marlene called out, breaking his reverie. He turned to face her, his expression guarded.

"Don't fuck this up. Please," Marlene pleaded, her voice filled with urgency and a hint of desperation. She knew that their success hinged on Joel's cooperation, and any misstep could have dire consequences for everyone involved.

Joel held Marlene's gaze for a moment, his eyes searching for answers. He understood the importance of their task, but he also knew the risks involved.

Without saying a word, he turned away from her and walked away, leaving Marlene behind with her plea hanging in the air.

Tag list: @ayamenimthiriel

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Echoes of Sanctuary

Summary: In a world ravaged by a devastating outbreak, Joel, a weathered survivor burdened by the weight of his past, finds an unexpected glimmer of hope in Ellie, a young girl immune to the infection. Amidst the chaos and despair, a glimmer of hope emerges when Joel unexpectedly finds love and solace in the most unexpected of places after two decades of heartache.

pairing: Joel Miller x afab!doctor!reader - main

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, Possessive!Joel, Immune!reader, Sarah is alive!

Chapters

001. — Shadows of the Quarantined City — [In a post-apocalyptic world consumed by darkness, Marlene entrusts hardened survivors Joel and Tess with a critical mission: to escort a mysterious and valuable cargo, Ellie, to the State House. Driven by their own desperate needs, they reluctantly accept. Little do they know that their path will intersect with an unexpected guest, whose presence will ignite a spark of hope and challenge the walls around Joel's heart.]

This is a little AU of The Last Of Us because Sarah is alive because I like happy endings.

There is also a crossover with Moonknight. No superhero vigilante, but just our Moon Boys.

The reader is immune to Cordyceps, and so is Ellie. There is a reason why you are immune, and it is reasonable.

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.