Ezra’s Mistress

Char|31|She/her 🇮🇪|scorpio|my other account is @supernaturalgirl20

[supernaturalgirl]

I know you’re on hiatus but felt like sending some hearts your way. Hope your week is starting off great.

Aww thank you my dear 🥰🥰 (I’m sorry I’m only seeing this now ☺️)

[supernaturalgirl]

Thank you ☺️🥰🥰

[messmikkelsen]

CHARLIE HUNNAM as Arthur King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)

[a7estrellas]

PEDRO PASCAL attends the Los Angeles FYC Event for the HBO Original Series’ “The Last of Us”

[nicolethered]

Joel convinces Tommy to take Ellie in 1x06 Kin

[littlelou22]

pretend | joel miller x fem!reader

summary: joel ends things with you, leaving you in the dark as to why. will the two of you get back together or stay apart?

warnings: angst, hurt, mean!joel, insecure!joel, eventual fluff, age gap (reader in undefined age but young, joel’s canon age), language, men being TRASH, violence, y/n used like twice, probs shitty writing, idk let me know if I miss any

divider credit: @saradika

word count: 6.2k

author's note: my first post, let me know what you think :)

requests open!

The two of you stood on opposite sides of the bed in your – his – room, chest heaving as you stare at Joel. You didn’t know what had gotten into him, the two of you were fine when you returned from patrol a few hours earlier. Joel had gone to help Tommy with something and you had taken Ellie to see whatever movie was playing tonight.

“I don’t understand why you’re being so cold with me,” you spoke, shaking your head. 

And you truly didn’t. You and Ellie had stopped at the Tipsy Bison to pick up dinner for the three of you after Joel was helping Tommy. Ellie had run off while you waited for the food, seeing Dina stationed at one of the tables. You passed the time at the bar, occasionally making forced small talk with the other patrons. Even though you had been in Jackson for a few months, you still didn’t feel quite at ease with most of the people here.

After you got the food, you ventured off home with Ellie to wait until Joel was done. But he never showed, not until after you and Ellie had eaten and the younger girl had gone off to bed. Joel had stormed in, kicked off his boots, and immediately went upstairs, not sparing you a single glance. Obviously, you had followed him, but you have no idea how you ended up here.

“I’m done with this,” Joel says, eyes everywhere except on you. “I’m done with you.”

“What?” You take a step back as if his words had physically pushed you.

“I needed you for her. That’s it,” Joel snapped at you. “Now that it’s over, I don’t see a reason to pretend anymore. Understand?”

You felt as if the air had been sucked out of you, as if Joel had kicked you right in the stomach. You thought you finally had a grasp on Joel, that you could finally read how he was feeling. But as you stared at him from across the room, he felt more like a stranger than the man you fell in love with.

You wanted to scream, to cry, to plead with him to not do this. To not leave you like everyone else did. But you didn’t – you couldn’t. Before you could even process what was happening, you were nodding.

“Okay,” you breathed, nodding your head. You felt the tears burning behind your eyes, begging to be released, but you refused to crack in front of him. Refused to let him see how much his words had made your heart ache. “If that’s how you feel, then okay.”

So, you left. Out of his bedroom and down the hall, passing Ellie’s door where you knew she was inevitably listening to the fight. Down the stairs and out the front door, letting it swing closed behind you. Your feet carried you down the dark street until you couldn’t go any further. The tears burned behind your eyes, a sob escaping you as you stumbled into the stables, barely making it to one of the hay bales before collapsing in on yourself.

You didn’t understand what happened, what had changed since you got back from Salt Lake City. Since the three of you tried to integrate into the community. Since Ellie started at school. Since you and Joel started to patrol and help wherever you could in Jackson. 

Did you do something that upset Joel? That made him rethink whatever it was between the two of you? The two of you weren’t officially together but your relationship wasn’t nothing. At least, you didn’t think you were nothing.

Clearly, you were wrong. What you thought was a relationship was actually just a means to get by, a way to pass time for Joel. You get it, you really try to. The road was long, it was tough, and it was lonely. The three of you had seen, and done, unthinkable things to get Ellie to the Fireflies. Obviously, that didn’t go as planned, landing the three of you back in Jackson. Where it felt impossible to return to some semblance of normalcy. So, how could you blame him for using you as an escape?

You just wish he would’ve told you from the beginning what it actually was.

It was morning by the time you dragged yourself out of the stables. Thanking whatever higher power there was that you didn’t have morning patrol, you made your way to Tommy and Maria’s. If Joel didn’t want to pretend, then neither could you. You couldn’t pretend to be okay with being around him after what had happened, so you decided to avoid him at all costs. But, you couldn’t abandon Ellie, not after everything the young girl had been through. Even if she was more distant after Salt Lake, you couldn’t bring yourself to up and leave her. You wouldn’t.

With a deep breath, your knuckles rapped against Tommy and Maria’s front door. You knew it was early, the sun barely just peeking over the horizon but you couldn’t wait. You and Joel were assigned second patrol, and you’d rather not be subjected to that after last night.

“You look like shit,” Tommy said after answering the door. You knew you did, sleeping on a rectangular stack of hay could only offer so much.

“Good morning to you too,” you force a smile at him. You liked Tommy, you had become close with him and his wife after settling in Jackson but you didn’t want to see the younger Miller brother right now. You knew it wasn’t his fault, but you couldn’t help the deepening pit in your stomach at the sight of him. “Is Maria up yet?”

“She’s out back, hanging laundry on the line,” he answers, eyes scanning over your puffy eyes and pale face. “You okay, bug?”

“M’fine Tommy, thank you” you grimace at the nickname. Joel had gifted you the name when the two of you met and upon arriving in Jackson, Tommy took up to calling you that as well. You make your way to the back of the house where you found Maria, true to Tommy’s word. Sighing, you grab one of the shirts in the basket, joining her at the laundry line.

“Good morning,” Maria muses, a playful smile on her face as she turns to you, wiping her hands on her jeans before resting them on her hips. “What can I do for you?”

“What makes you think I need something?” You can’t help but respond. Maria was the closest thing to a friend you had in Jackson, it was hard not to feel as though you could be yourself around her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you up and out this early in the morning,” she says, glancing back at the house to see Tommy in the window, watching the women through the glass. He shrugs, answering her silent query. “What’s wrong?”

You sigh heavily, pinching your nose between your fingers after hanging the shirt on the line. “I need you to switch my patrol partner.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Maria asks, voice gentle as if you were a frightened deer.

“No paradise to have troubles in,” you mutter, shaking your head. “I don’t want to talk about it. It didn’t work out, I just need you to switch my partner.”

Maria stared at you, narrowing her eyes as she, like Tommy, surveyed your condition. You knew she saw right through you. Knew there was more to the story than you were letting on to.

“Okay,” she nodded after a minute, looking at the watch on her wrist. “There’s still fifteen minutes before first patrol, go let Alexander know he’s with Miller now. You can patrol with Marcus now.”

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, relief filling you to the thought of not being around Joel. The relief soon left at the mention of your new partner, but you couldn’t be picky here. “Thank you Maria, I won’t let you down.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replies, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You better get going if you want to make it.”

“Right,” you say, turning on your heels to start the walk back to the stables, knowing the morning patrol people would be there by now.

Maria watches you leave, only making her way inside once you are out of her sight. As she enters the kitchen, Tommy appears before her with raised eyebrows.

“What was that about?” He asks, passing her a cup of warm tea.

Maria sighs, shaking her head. “I’m not sure, but your dumbass brother might.”

“Joel?” Tommy questions, confused as to what might’ve happened between his brother and the woman he is obviously infatuated with.

“Do you have another brother that I don’t know about?” she raises her eyes at her husband, shaking her head. “She wanted to switch patrol partners, wouldn’t tell me why or what happened.”

“Shit,” Tommy sighs, leaning back against the counter before muttering. “What did you do, Joel?”

“I have no idea,” Maria shrugs before setting her mug in the sink. She pats Tommy’s shoulder before making her way towards the stairs, turning to face her husband before she climbs them. “But have fun letting him know!”

“That was fun,” Marcus smiled at you as the two of you rode your horses through the front gates after patrol. Eyes zeroing in on your hips as they rise and fall with each step of your horse.

You force a smile at him, half listening to him as your eyes dart back and forth in search of Joel. You knew he was due to head on second patrol and the last thing you wanted to do was see him. “It sure was.”

“Alex never looked that pretty when taking down Infected,” Marcus continues, not picking up on your disinterest in him. “Glad there was a change up, I was beginning to get bored of watching him.”

You don’t offer him a response as you continue towards the stables, preoccupied with hoping and praying that Joel and his new partner had already left for patrol. For once, whatever higher power out there was on your side as you find the stables vacant.

“Thank God,” you mutter to yourself, sliding off your horse, Luna, to guide her towards her stall which was thankfully far away from Marcus’. Once you got her in her stall, you began to take off her saddle and get her ready for the night. As you did so, your mind wandered to your new patrol partner. 

You weren’t oblivious, you knew what Marcus was doing. It wouldn’t be the first time that he tried to sweet talk you. The man had been adamant to gain your attention since you stepped foot in Jackson after the Firefly incident. Whether it was at the stables, the Tipsy Bison, or at movie night, Marcus tried everything to engage you in a conversation.

Any chance he got, Marcus would try his best to make an impression on you. To ask you out on a date. None of his advances ever made it far, you weren’t interested in the men of Jackson and had made it clear. At least, you thought you did, especially after yesterday’s event at the Tipsy Bison.

While you were waiting for the food, Marcus and his friends were putting the ‘tipsy’ in Tipsy Bison. When drinking, Marcus liked to get a little handsy and his previous rejected advances did not seem to deter him trying again. In good Marcus fashion, he attempted, again, to get you to go out with him. You rejected him, as you had many times before, by sliding his arm off your shoulders before moving to a different part of the bar. Luckily, your food was ready soon after so you didn’t have to endure his stares any longer.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A voice rang out in the stall, causing you to whip around to find the intruder.

Ellie leaned against the opening, arms crossed over her chest as she watched you catch your breath, clearly you had not heard her enter the stables.

“Jesus, Els, you can’t sneak up on people like that,” you breathe, shaking your head at the young girl. You eye the backpack she throws onto the ground before she flops down onto the stool you had brought in earlier. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school right now?”

“It’s boring,” she answers as if it was an acceptable reason. “You gonna tell Joel I’m skipping?”

You stiffen at the mention of his name, glancing at Ellie before answering. “Nope.”

“You want to talk about what happened last night?” She presses, confirming your previous suspicions of her eavesdropping tendencies.

“Nope.” Exiting the stall, you make yourself appear busy to avoid further questioning from the girl.

Ellie follows, picking at the end of her sleeves, shifting from foot to foot as she watches you flit around the stable. You spare a glance at her, knowing that her mind is running a mile a minute as it gears up before speaking.

“You okay, Bellie?” You ask, halting your work.

“You aren’t gonna leave, right?” Ellie asks after a moment, eyes avoiding your face.

You sigh, setting down the pail of food you gathered before walking up to the girl. You place your hands on her shoulders, giving her a gentle shake. “Of course not, I promised you that I would never leave you, remember?”

The girl nods, “I remember.”

“Good,” you smile at her, ruffling up her hair before giving her a gentle push towards the stable doors. “Go back to school before you get us both in trouble.”

After Ellie leaves, you putter around the stables for a few hours before you hear the clopping of horses approaching the stables. Peeking out of the window, you see Joel and his new patrol partner.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You think, immediately running back to Luna’s stall. You frantically grab your things and hightail it out of the back entrance of the stables. Leaning against the back of the barn, you wait until you hear the men enter before making your way back to town. You had no idea how you were going to avoid Joel for the foreseeable future, but there was no way you were ready to face him.

The next few weeks went by similarly. You left the house before the sun rose, before anyone in the house was awake. You would go on patrol, endure several hours of the torture that is Marcus and his antics before returning to the town. You’d wait to watch Joel leave for patrol before going to the house you shared or going into town. Once he was back home, you’d return to the stables where you would spend your evenings, only returning home in the late hours of the night. One day while he was on patrol, you had moved all of your things into the third bedroom that was now your own. It worked, you rarely ran into Joel. When you did, you would turn and go the opposite direction or retreat back to your room. 

It worked until it didn’t.

You were at the Tipsy Bison, leaned against the bar with a drink in your hand as you listened to Maria. She had to practically drag you out here after days of begging for you to socialize. To be a part of the community. You partly did it to get her off your back, but as you listened to the conversation around you, you felt happy that she managed to get you to come out. It had been a long time since you stayed in one place for longer than ten minutes without constantly checking over your shoulder.

Maria had been recounting a story about Tommy from early on in their relationship when you felt it. Felt eyes burning into your back. Stares that felt like ice water spilling down your shirt, sending vicious shivers up your spine. It felt uneasy, putting you on edge. The longer it lingered, the more uncomfortable you grew.

Turning to give the establishment a once over, you noticed two things. One, Joel was in the corner with his brother, hands full with glasses of neat whiskey as they conversed with one another. Eyes on Tommy, not on you. And two, your oh so lovely patrol partner making his way over towards your group.

“Maria,” you start, turning to your friend, attempting to say your goodbyes before booking it out of the bar when a rather large and heavy arm is slung around your shoulders.

Marcus steadies himself on your shoulder, the smell of alcohol seeping from his pores as he surveys your group, eyes lingering on you for too long. “Ladies! Looking fantastic tonight!”

“Why thank you, Marcus,” one of the women, Fiona, in your group respond, smirking at the obviously drunk man. She bats her eyelashes at him and you feel sick. “How can we help you?”

“Just wanted to talk to my patrol partner here,” Marcus turns to peer down at you, offering you a smile as he squeezes you to his side. “Tommy told me we are patrolling a new area tomorrow, so I figured the two of us could talk strategy. Maybe over a drink or two.”

You grimace, trying to shrug his arm off your shoulder but he is gripping onto you impeccably tight. “It’s late, Marcus, and I was just about to leave. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

“How about he walks you home?” Maria suggests, raising her eyebrows at you. You throw her a look, hoping she picks up on the obvious disapprovement you have over this idea. But she doesn’t, the other women in the group joining in on the idea. “The two of you can discuss it on the way back.”

“It’s the least you can do,” Fiona nods at you, cutting you off when you go to protest. “You did force him to change partners, you can’t blame the man for wanting to make sure he’s safe tomorrow.”

Sending Fiona a hard glare, you push Marcus’ arm off of your shoulder to slip on your coat. “Fine, let’s go.”

You wave off the group’s goodbyes before beelining for the door. The faster you get out of here, the faster you can get home and away from Marcus. On the way out, you glance at the table that Tommy and Joel were residing at, finding it vacant. At this point, you didn’t care if you would run into Joel at the house. Anything was preferable to spending any more time than necessary with your insufferable patrol partner. 

After exiting the building, you start towards home at a quick pace, hoping to shorten the usual ten minute walk into a five minute walk. You don’t feel Marcus at your side, hoping that you lost him in your haste out of the bar. Your thoughts are silenced when you feel his hand wrap around your wrist, yanking you to a halt and into one of the allies in the town square.

“What’s the rush, sweetheart?” Marcus smirks, pulling closer to you as his grip on your wrist tightens.

“Got the kid waiting up for me back home,” you quickly lie, tugging your wrist back in an attempt to free yourself. “QZ schools weren’t the best, she needs help with her homework.”

He chuckles, shaking his head at you before backing you into the brick wall of the alley behind you. “I’m sure her dad can help her with that. We have some things to discuss.”

“It would be best to discuss whatever it is in the morning,” you gulp, pressing closer to the wall to create more space between the two of you. “When we both haven’t been at a bar for the night. With clearer minds.”

“Baby,” Marcus breathes, “My mind has never been more clear.”

He ducks his head, pressing his lips forcefully against yours. His hands move to your hips, pressing himself into you. You desperately try pulling your head back to avoid him, but the brick wall behind you prevents you from moving away. Panicking, you sink your teeth into his lip, biting down until you taste the metallic tang of blood. Your hands move to his chest, pushing him off with all your strength. Marcus stumbles back, hands dabbing at his lip to feel the damage. 

“What the actual fuck are you thinking?” You seeth, wiping the taste of him away with the back of your hand. You stare at him for a beat, bewildered, before pushing off the wall to make your escape.

You make it a few steps before Marcus surges forward, arms encircling your waist to pull you off the ground. All attempts of your struggle are thwarted when he throws you onto the pavement, hands wrapping around your throat as he straddles your stomach, your arms pinned to his thighs.

“You disrespectful, little bitch,” he spits, hands tightening at your throat. “Your daddy ever teach you manners as a young girl? Like all girls need to be taught?”

You gasp at the lack of oxygen as you try to squirm your way out of his grasp. Your constant struggle only seems to agitate Marcus more as he pulls you off the ground before slamming you back down. The back of your head bounces off the hard pavement beneath the two of you. All efforts to fight cease as dots begin to swarm your vision. 

“You respect men that want to talk to you,” Marcus growls, smirking at your dazed face. His hands continue to tighten around your throat. “You’re lucky to even have my attention.”

Your vision is starting to go dark when his weight is suddenly pulled off of you. Coughing, you roll onto your stomach, attempting to gain your bearings. You hear fighting next to you, propping yourself on your hands and knees to try to see what’s going on.

“So help me god,” Joel practically snarls, one hand gripping Marcus’ collar while the other delivers a nose shattering punch. 

“If you ever go near her again, I will kill you.” Punch.

“If you look at her again, I will kill you.” Punch.

“If you even so much as breathe in her direction, I will kill you.” Punch.

“Do I make myself clear?”

You watch from your hands and knees as Joel delivers punch after punch until Marcus is whimpering under him, gasping for air like you were only moments earlier. Once he believes the message has been received, Joel drops his hold on Marcus and backs away, chest heaving.

You must make a noise as he turns to you, eyes quickly scanning your face before his gaze settles on the hand prints adoring your throat. He’s rushing to you before you know it, gentle hands helping raise you to your feet.

“Can you stand, bug?” Joel whispers, softly turning to check the spot where your head had kissed the payment. Today must be your lucky day, no blood appearing on his fingers after he gently ran them through your hair.

“M’fine, Joel,” you rasp, embarrassment pooling in your stomach. While you were thankful that he came by when he did, you couldn’t help but wish it happened to be anyone else. 

Joel sighs, running his hand down his face. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I said I’m fine Joel,” you pull yourself out of his gentle grasp, wrapping your arms around your midsection tightly. You take a few cautious steps back, stumbling but steady enough to walk.

“Let me get you home, angel,” Joel steps forward, hands reaching out to help you. “Ellie’s been askin’ bout you.”

Shaking your head, you continue to take tentative steps away from him. “I can take care of myself, Joel. You don’t have to pretend anymore, remember?”

And with that, you turned on your heels and began to make your way back to the house. You knew he was trailing some feet behind you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment. All you wanted to do was crawl into your bed and forget that the night ever even happened.

“It looks like the bruising should heal in a few weeks,” Rick, Jackson’s one and only doctor, assesses, fingers gently pressing against the prominent hand marks on your neck. “The petechiae should clear up within the next few days.”

You nod, readjusting your collar whenever the doctor leans back to scribble down some notes. In the corner of your eye, you see Tommy and Maria share a glance before whispering, as if you weren’t even in the room.

“Any new loss of consciousness? Confusion? Dizzy spells?” Rick asks, pen pausing on the paper.

“Nope,” voice still scratchy but nowhere near as bad as it was a few days ago. “Can I go back on patrol now?”

With a sigh, Rick sets his clipboard down. “Sweetheart, what you went through was a traumatic event. You need to let yourself have time to recuperate mentally too, not just physically.”

“I take that as a no then,” you deflate when the doctor nods.

After answering the rest of Rick’s questions, you’re finally able to leave the infirmary. It seemed like you were there for hours, so to feel the sun on your face whenever you exited felt like sweet relief.

“Y/N,” Maria starts, guilt practically dripping from her.

“Maria, if you apologize one more time, I think I might implode,” you interrupt her, turning to face her. “You didn’t know, I didn’t tell you what he had been saying on patrol. This isn’t your fault.”

“But –”

“No buts,” groaning, you grab her shoulders, giving her a playful shake. “Some drunk asshole’s actions are not your fault. There was no way you could’ve known what would happen.”

“Darlin’, she’s right,” Tommy intervenes. “It’s no one’s fault but the man that did it.”

You hum in agreement, rolling your eyes at the way Maria practically pouts. “Just don’t give me another shitty patrol partner and we can call it even. Okay?”

Maria nods, pulling you into a tight hug. You gently pat her back, knowing the hug is more for her sake than yours, so you allow yourself to enjoy it, just this once.

You’re about to walk away but Tommy stops you, hand gently on your wrist. “Ellie wanted me to tell you to meet her at your house, said she needed help with somethin’.” 

“Little shit skipped school again?” You groan. “What would be so important that we have to do it now instead of after dinner?”

Tommy shrugs, smirk playing on his lips. “You really think I'm privy to how she operates?”

“I wish I was,” you mutter, waving your goodbyes before trudging back to your house.

You were going to have to talk to Joel about this. Ellie skipped at least twice a week and you thought the last discussion you had about it got through to her, but apparently not. You understood why she struggled with it, being one of the only outsiders in a building full of kids that had never been outside the walls of Jackson. People looked at you guys funny, you and Joel got it too. Even in the apocalypse, school was important.

After what seemed like an eternity, you crossed the threshold of your home. “Ellie?” you called.

No response.

“Ellie Bellie?” You called again, hanging your coat on the hooks by the door. You knew Joel was on patrol so you began to wander to find the girl.

After checking the entire upstairs, you began to worry.

“Ellie!” You yelled, thundering down the steps and into the kitchen.

“In the basement!” The girl finally responded.

With a breath of relief, you descended the basement steps and found the girl sorting through boxes, various tools of Joel’s spread around her.

“What did we talk about?” You approach, tugging on her ponytail. “No more skipping school, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she waves you off, pointing to the door behind her. “The water heater is in there, right?”

“How am I supposed to know?” You shrug. “The old man takes care of that stuff.”

Ellie rolls her eyes, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the door. “Well the stupid fuckin’ thing stopped working and I want Joel to be able to have a hot shower when he gets back from patrol.”

“So call Tommy, Els,” you resist her tugging. “I can’t fix it.”

Pouting, the young girl bats her eyelashes at you, putting on her best puppy dog face. “Please, please, please?”

After a few more seconds of her insistent begging, you cave in. “Fuck, fine. Just stop with the face. Promise you won’t skip school again and I’ll see what I can do?”

“Promise!” Ellie smiles in victory, holding out the worn owner’s manual to you.

You grab the dusty book from her before shouldering the door open, wandering into the room. It’s pitch black and you can’t seem to find the lightswitch.

“Els, where’s the light?” You ask, blinking to try to adjust to the lack of light.

“Don’t be mad, okay?” You hear the girl plead before the lights flicker on and the door slams shut, lock clicking.

A tired looking Joel sits in front of you, one hand handcuffed to the gas line of the water heater. You gape at him, part of you impressed that Ellie was able to get the one up on him.

But then the reality of the situation sets in and you start to bang on the door. “Ellie, open the damn door!”

“You can come out when the two of you work out whatever shit happened,” Ellie’s voice is muffled through the door but her message is loud and clear. A key slides in from under the door. “Unlock him if you want to.”

“Great, just great,” you mutter, forehead resting on the door. “Looks like we’re never going to get out of here.”

You can hear Ellie stomp up the basements and slam the door, off to do god knows what with both of her guardians locked in a room. Turning, you look to see Joel, his eyes watching your movements. You take in his appearance – right hand cuffed to the flimsy gas line of the water heater, left hand resting in his lap, both legs extended in front of him with crossed ankles. Under different circumstances, you would have laughed.

“Would you mind givin’ me that key?” Joel asks, motioning to the key resting on the ground by your feet.

Nodding, you kick the key to him, praising yourself that it slides within reach of him. You watch as he uncuffs himself, rubbing his skin where the cuff adored his wrist. Joel slowly stands, exhaling as he stretches himself up right. Once he’s upright, you take into account his bruised knuckles, undoubtedly from the other night.

The two of you are silent. The tension is palpable – too thick to cut with a knife, maybe even a chainsaw. You watch as Joel awkwardly shifts foot to foot. You can tell that he has a lot on his mind, but you aren’t sure if you want to know what he’s thinking.

You clear your throat, already regretting your next words. “Thank you, by the way.”

Joel nods, staying on his designated side of the small room. “I’d never just let that happen to you, y’know that.”

The awkward silence lasts a few more beats, neither of you know what to say to the other.

“You don’t have to avoid the house and town,” Joel breaks first, clearing his throat. “We can be friends, can’t we?”

“Speak for yourself,” you mutter, turning around to see if the door is actually locked. It is, to your dismay.

“Bug…” Joel starts but the nickname sets you off.

“Can you, like, not call me that?” You snap, whirling around to glare at him. “You lost any and all privilege to that the second you decided to use me for your own personal pleasure. Without regard to how I would feel, may I add?”

Joel scoffs, shaking his head, “I didn’t use you for my ‘own personal pleasure’.”

“Really?” Laughing, you feel insane with how worked up he has got you in one sentence. “Then what exactly did you mean by, and I quote, ‘pretend’.”

Joel opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off.

“Or what about ‘I’m done with you’?” You step into his space, practically chest to chest. “Because being done with someone doesn’t really leave room for friendship, now does it?”

“That’s not what I meant, y’know that!”

“Do I, Joel? Because it doesn’t feel like it!” You can feel your hands shaking as you shove him back. “You are so hot and cold. You give me fucking whiplash. I can’t stand it! You–”

His lips press against yours, hands settling on your waist to keep you in place. You freeze, the feeling of his mouth moving against yours is a foreign after not feeling it for so long. You feel yourself melting into his arms, your own wrapping around his neck as you kiss him back, lips fusing together as if they were made for each other.

Until you realize what’s happening.

“What’s wrong, bug?” Joel whispers after you throw yourself back, chest heaving.

“You can’t just do that,” your voice shakes and you feel small under his gaze. “You can’t fuck with my feelings like this.”

Joel lets out an aggravated sigh, hands running through his curly locks. “I’m not tryin’ to, sweetheart.”

“Then what are you trying to do, Joel? Because I can’t do the back and forth.” You desperately try to blink away the tears pooling at your eyes. “One minute you want me, the next you don’t. I don’t know what you want from me.”

A tear slips down your cheek.

And all of Joel’s resolve breaks.

“Baby,” he breathes, hands cupping your cheeks as he thumbs away your tears. “I…shit, hold on.”

You wait. You wait as his eyes squeeze closed. As he inhales and exhales deeply. As he shakes his head before looking at you again.

“I love you,” Joel admits. “But I’m no good for you.”

“Joel–”

“Please,” he begs. “I can’t protect you, or Ellie. You saw what happened with the raiders at the university, I almost got the two of you killed because I’m not as young as I once was. I’m not a good man, bug, I’ve done so many bad things that I will never deserve someone like you, no matter what I do now.”

You listen to all of his reasons why he doesn’t think he deserves you. You watch the pain of his past hold him back from ever realizing how much he is worth.

“Is that why you did that?” You ask quietly, hands coming to rest on his chest. “You pushed me away because you think you’re too old for me? Too much of a burden on me?”

Joel nods, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“But, Joel, those are your reasons,” you breathe. “Your thoughts, your opinions. Not mine.”

He shakes his head. “But–”

“But nothing,” you interrupt. “I love you because of all of that. I love everything about you, your past included, Joel. There is nothing that you could do or say that could ever possibly change that. Why do you think I avoided you for weeks?”

“Because you hated me?”

“Because I couldn’t be around you thinking that I loved you when you hated me.” You laugh, leaning up to briefly press your lips against his. “Next time, how about you talk to me before you make all the decisions?”

Nodding, Joel leans forward and slots his lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, locking your hands together. You feel Joel smile against your lips, a feeling you had missed, before pressing yourself as close to him as possible. Your kisses become more feverish, Joel backing you up against the door as his hands run down your sides to your hips. His hands snake around your waist, lowering themselves to your butt, groaning at the way you react to him.

A loud bang on the door startles the two of you apart.

“As much as I love that the two of you figured it out,” Ellie yells through the door. “I don’t want to hear those noises. Ever.”

A giggle escapes your lips as you hide your face in Joel’s neck, a smile spreads across your lips when you feel his arms encompass your waist.

“Are you decent? Can I let you out now?”

“Yes, Ellie.”

“Thank god,” Ellie unlocks and swings the door open. She smiles seeing the two of you wrapped up together. “I was beginning to think you’d never figure it out.”

Joel shakes his head. “Shut up.”

“You mean ‘you’re welcome’,” Ellie teases before escaping up the stairs, pausing at the top. “Just don’t suck each other's faces around me, got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” you salute her goodbye before turning back to Joel, who is pretending to look annoyed at the teen.

“By the way, how did she manage to handcuff you?”

[supernaturalgirl]

Look what I found at JC Penney, here in the States

I'm dead. It's not a costume.

That is wild 😝

I honestly thought they’d just wrangled that together for him….guess not.

He did pull it off well though 😉😜

Also how did I not notice he had one hand done with French nails and the other not 🤦‍♀️

[lavenderursa]

The Moon In May Writing Challenge

2023 Writing Challenge Prompt List & Prompt Photos

Another year, another writing challenge! 🌙

The goal is one piece of writing (reader insert, self insert, oc, poetry, whatever you want) a week using the accompanying prompts set in an A/B/O AU, Shifter AU, Supernatural/Paranormal AU of your choice!

Each week is a phase of the moon (stated in the most general terms) with some themed words that might inspire. Below the cut are a few photo prompts that can be used or not used as you see fit. 

To participate simply tag #TheMoonInMay and tag me!  I’ll repost once a week in May. All I ask is that you tag your content accordingly and you have so much fun with this!

2022

The Moon in May Prompt List

Week 1 (May 1-7) - New Moon Luna - Perfume - Cadre - Shift - Track

Week 2 (May 8-14) - Waxing Moon Den - Heat - Imprint - Bite - Curse

Week 3 (May 15-21) - Full Moon Purr - Knot - Pack - Scent - Moonlight

Week 4 (May 22- 31) - Crescent Moon Breed - Run - Rut - Mark - Bond

Prompt Photos

I hope this inspires!

See you in May!

[jobean12-blog]

Pickup Man

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Pre-Outbreak)

Word Count: 840

Summary: Between work and Sarah (whom you love) it’s hard to find time for just the two of you and when Joel has to wait a week for it well, he get’s grumpy and impatient. 

Author’s Note: I’ve been wanting to do some pre-outbreak Joel because why not! I like the idea of him just existing and having happiness before the world fell into utter shit. Hope you enjoy, thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you lovely Daisy🥰

Warnings: lots of fun, flirty fluff with tension

GIF NOT MINE: Credit goes to @manny-jacinto thanks so much sweets 🥰

Joel Miller Masterlist

“Hey there darlin’.”

You step out of the house and into his arms. Joel brushes his lips over yours, just a whisper, and at that tease of the taste of him your skin tingles with heat.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers against your lips.

Your thanks is lost in his kiss and when he finally pulls away you cling to him, still trying to steady yourself in a dizzying world.

Keep reading

[supernaturalgirl]

I am officially obsessed with your Joel fics 🥰🥰

[supernaturalgirl20]

Just a quick post to say I won’t be updating anything for a little while, my nan has passed away very suddenly and I’m utterly heartbroken. She was like a second mam to me. Anyways I just wanted to let you know. Sorry 😢

[supernaturalgirl]

Thanks to everyone for the lovely comments and messages, it means the world. I’m hoping to maybe get back to writing next week (I kinda need to keep my mind busy) but I’m taking it day by day. Thank you for your patience 🥰

[supernaturalgirl]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out 💗

Thank you Ella 🥰🥰

Right back at you my dear 💕

[xhartbigx]

Reblog if you’re over 20 and still read/write fan fiction.

I’m curious!

[cocoamoonmalfoy]

I’m gonna give y’all the tl:dr at the beginning

Likes aren’t feedback. What I want on my work is feedback.

I define serial-liking as reading through a series or masterlist and only liking each work, giving no other signs of life. I know some people like fics to come back to later, but there’s no reason I should see “So-and-so just liked As It Was Part1, Part2, Part 3 etc” in that case. You would just like the Masterlist or the first chapter NOT each part and the extras too.

This post isn’t even about reblogging (which readers don’t do enough of either but that’s a whole other post for another day), this is about a complete lack of communication from readers.

I write for myself but I share it because fandom is a community. This should be a two-way street! I’m here to meet and talk about the things I love with other people who love them too!

When you serial like my series or my masterlist and say nothing, what I’m getting is “I like this work but I don’t appreciate you for writing it. I like this but not enough to make sure you continue it.” A like doesn’t even automatically translate to “I like this” anymore! More like “I saw this”. I can’t infer that you read my work much less what you thought of it. It’s disappointing and disheartening.

And since the common rebuttal to any writer who complains about the lack of readers doing the bare minimum is “not sure what to say/too shy to say a lot” here are some suggestions of short replies that I’d be thrilled to get (more than welcome to copy and paste these if you need my permission for that):

❤️❤️❤️❤️

Tx 4 the fic op :)

Luv this!

!!!!!!!!!

Agsjflalfjslfkdlsls

A reaction gif/meme

Nice job!

Super cute!

Literally anything you’d find on those encouraging stickers you give to elementary students

Cuz that’s what we want!! Encouragement!!

We’re spending hours, days, weeks on chapters that will take you minutes to read. All we’re asking as that you show you care about the person behind the fic and aren’t treating us like content machines.

Too often writers have to say they’re considering leaving before they get feedback! SHOW US YOU CARE NOW! I promise it’ll get you even more because it won’t feel like we’re posting our work into the ether. Treat us like people or you’ll slowly lose us all.

If you’re shy, THAT’S what the anon feature for asks is for! (Since a lot of ppl like to use it to be trolls and need to be reminded of this) Anon is where you can say all the ooey-gooey things about a fic you liked but not have your username attached! That’s where you can give us feedback and encouragement anonymously!

You should be showing appreciation to creators of content you consume and for me, likes are not it.

[wardenparker]

The Date

Marcus Moreno x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Inspired by the already beloved Teacher Ben sketch from Pedro’s SNL appearance, this fic is dedicated to every single reader with a HUGE hug and a kiss straight from me to you. Just over about two weeks ago I passed the 2k follower mark and I am so incredibly humbled by everyone’s love and encouragement. Writing makes me happier than almost anything else in the world and I am blown away by the sheer number of you who stop by my little corner of the tumblrsphere to read the words that I produce along with my beloved @absurdthirst​. There is absolutely no end to our collaborations in sight and I am thrilled to keep rolling out fun stories week after week 🧡

Rating: Explicit! 18+  Word Count: 19.9k Warnings: Age gap (reader is an adult student of unspecified age), mentions of deceased spouse, awkward flirting, reader is bad with social cues, Marcus on a Motorcycle, using superpowers for foreplay, begging, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex (superhero stamina).  Summary: After spending the semester becoming friends with your criminal justice professor, retired Heroic Marcus Moreno, it appears that your crush isn’t so unrequited after all. Notes: I was very sleepy doing this edit, so I’m sorry if I missed some things.

Sometimes you really do sit through classes waiting for a cartoonish sounding bell to ring and it’s just too bad. The general education classes that you have to take really aren’t your cup of tea, even though you know you need them for your degree and really should be paying attention. But you’re not going to need chemistry when you restart your career as a high school English teacher. Nor are you going to need the complex algebra and trigonometry that stumped you the first time you went to college. And you’re probably not going to need to understand the intricacies of the criminal justice system either - but this class was a little gift to yourself. 

The hottest professor you could have ever dreamt of in a three-times-a-week lecture that frequently includes anecdotes from his legendary career as the leader of the Heroics. Since the first day of this class it’s been like a real life version of the Indiana Jones scene where undergrads have love notes written on their eyelids and leave him gifts and notes hoping for a smidgen of extra attention, and you can’t really blame them. The thing is, the poor kids don’t stand a chance. He has a daughter nearly their age and couldn’t ever shake the feeling of how young they are. Or at least that’s what he told you the first time you sat together in the student union to eating lunch together after class. Marcus is sweet. He’s charming and maybe a little insecure socially, but when he stands up in front of the class he commands attention at the drop of a hat. He’s incredibly smart - genius, even - and he doesn’t make friends easily. That’s what he told you the fourth time you had lunch together in the student union after his class was over. Which is why you’ve kept your own crush a very tightly wrapped secret for the entire semester. You’re friends now, or at least very good acquaintances, and you wouldn’t jeopardize that for the world.

Keep reading

[mindidjarin]

NO CHEATING: You’re starring in a movie with the last person saved in your camera roll and the last song you listened to is the title. Who/what is it?

thanks for the tag @mattmurdocksscars and @notwhatiseem ❤️

of course it was gonna be charlie 🥰

np tagging @murdock-and-the-sea @netflixmatt @andrasta14 @pedrito-friskito @againstacecilia and anyone else who wants to play!

[pedrito-friskito]

ooooooo thanks mindi!!

this is so shocking wow

title of my next joel fic??

np tagging: @inklore @psychedelic-ink @mandoblowmybackout @munsonownsmyass @gnollengrom @stxrrylunatic @prolix-yuy @iamskyereads and anyone else who wants to play!

[psychedelic-ink]

Thank you for the tag bby!!!

If I hadn’t had the need to make this my wallpaper it would’ve been tommy which is a rare site because I usually have a lot of Pedro in my camera roll djdjjdjd I ain’t complaining tho this would be a great movie

dieter fic perhaps??

tagging: @jazzelsaur @radiowallet @wildemaven @iamskyereads @fuckyeahdindjarin @inklore @welcometostayingawake @nexusnyx @littlemisspascal @prolix-yuy @lavendertales

[wildemaven]

Oh fun!! Thanks for the tag @psychedelic-ink

I didn’t even know what I was listening to last until I looked! Lol Was needing some writing inspiration for yesterdays Javi fic and this was doing it I guess

NPTs @something-tofightfor @kteague @heythere-mel @nothoughtsjustmeds @woodlandmouth @theorganasolo @gnpwdrnwhiskey

And whoever else wants to play

[something-tofightfor]

Thanks for the tag, @wildemaven !

Last person saved on my camera roll/last song listened to:

Tagging:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @miss-mandalorian @felteppsters @oonajaeadira @haylzcyon and anyone else that wants to play

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Thanks for tagging me, @something-tofightfor !!

I present to you all the Queen of Lower Chelsea, a film starring me, Pedro Pascal, and his dog. (The dog is playing the Queen, I’m just a bartender in the background of one scene. In fact it might not even make the final cut.)

Tagging: @littlemisspascal @imtryingmybeskar @prolix-yuy @practicalghost @insomniamamma & anyone who wants to play!!

[practicalghost]

Thanks for the tag @the-blind-assassin-12 !

Last picture saved to my camera roll/last song I listened to

Tommy’s face as he realizes he’s technically a communist now will never not crack me up

No pressure tags: @supernaturalgirl20 @writer-darling @flightlessangelwings @thisishellfire @musings-of-a-rose @mishasminion360 @din-jarhead and anyone else who wants to!

[supernaturalgirl]

Thank for the tag Lia @practicalghost and @stxrrylunatic

Last picture saved to camera roll

And last song I listened to

No pressure tags: @scorpio-marionette @misspearly1 @browneyes-issac @iccedays

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Prey

Summary: It was just supposed to be an easy job. But then he saw you.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 7.1k

Raiting: E for Explicit (beginning and end of Smut is marked with a red divider, so you can read the fic without it if you prefer it this way)

Warnings: Soulmate AU, gonna tag it as Dub Con to be sure, bounty hunting, stalking, obsessive behavior, voyeurism, Sugar baby, attempted assault, choking (not the fun way), nakedness, character death, strangers to lovers, weddings, smut (unprotected sex), some breeding kink, lies

A/N: This fic has been the better part of my life for the last 6 weeks. The original idea was to write something... completely different. Something dark and twisted. I think I got the twisted part down though and it is... different. A big thank you goes out to @chaoticgeminate who listened to my whining about this for the last weeks and came up with the ✨ plot twist ✨ and another big thank you to @the-scandalorian who beta'd this monster like a champ and yelled at me for writing it in the first place

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

It was just a puck.

It wasn’t even a difficult job. The bounty, a Twi’lek, wasn’t hiding. He was a lowlife crime lord who neglected paying off some of his debts. 

It was an easy job. 

Din was on Coruscant. It was…one of the first jobs he took after Grogu. To be honest, everything that happened after the Jedi Luke Skywalker had taken Grogu with him was a blur. Cara had taken care of Moff Gideon. The Mandalorians…had left, Bo Katan was still scowling at him about his responsibility now that he was carrying the Dark Saber. There was a part of him that seriously thought about just…getting rid of it. He was pretty sure it would bring him a huge amount of credits. 

But it was a Mandalorian-made weapon. He could feel its power everytime he just brushed his fingers over it.

So, abandoning it was out of the question. That didn’t mean he had to get familiar with it though. 

Din could ignore the Dark Saber, but he couldn’t stand having constant company. Everyone was just really getting on his nerves and he needed… Losing Grogu had changed him. He needed to find a way to move on. 

So when Boba had offered him a ride to Tatooine, he took it. And once he was there, he had paid Peli for a ship and gone onto Navarro to visit Karga and pick up some bounty pucks. 

Because that was what he knew how to do.

Hunting down bounties was in his blood.

And blood was what he was after. His mind only seemed to be able to calm down when he was on the hunt—even more so when the bounty was struggling and he had to use his fists to shut them up. 

He didn’t have to think about the next step—he just knew it. And if he didn’t have to think, he wouldn’t think of the kid. All the better.

It wasn’t like he had anyone else in his life. No family, no loved one, no soulmate…

Sometimes, he wondered if he would ever find his soulmate. If he was deserving of them. Of meeting them. Of finding the other half of himself, the one carrying the same mark like he did on his body. 

So here he was. Din Djarin. Bounty hunter. Apparently a king? He was sitting in the back of a shady cantina watching his bounty. He could just get up, walk over and take care of the Twi’lek. But he was… distracted. 

He was distracted by you. 

You were sitting on his bounty’s lap in your little sparkly dress. Even from across the cantina, Din could see your red painted fingernails dragging over the cheap shirt the bounty was wearing. He could see his greedy fingers on your thighs, and Din flexed his fingers to keep himself calm. 

He shouldn’t be touching you. 

The bounty leaned to his side, talking to a Rodian sitting next to him. You pouted, letting your gaze wander through the room until your eyes landed on Din. Din knew his face was hidden inside his helmet, yet it seemed like you were looking directly into his eyes. He saw your red painted lips purse before they switched into a small smirk. 

He frowned behind his helmet. He couldn’t deny the attraction he felt towards you. You were...beautiful and sexy, and there was a part of him that just wanted to stalk over there to break the bounty’s undeserving fingers and take you with him.

The bounty spoke into your ear then, and you nodded, biting your lip. You leaned in to kiss him, and Din took a deep, steadying breath. 

He watched the bounty speak to you again, and fuck, he could hear your giggle all the way across the fucking room. You kissed the bounty again before you got up. He slapped your ass, and you grinned at him over your shoulder. 

The bounty got up too, sliding his arm around your waist before he kissed you again, his hand squeezing your ass as he guided you out of the cantina. 

Din saw you turn your head to look over your shoulder, somehow finding his eyes again as you gave him a wink before you were out the door. 

Din all but jumped out of his chair, his hand hovering over his blaster. But he stopped himself from doing something rash and shook his head to clear his mind, taking a few more calming breaths. 

What was it about you that made him so...possessive? 

He wanted you. He needed you.

He’d never felt like this about anyone else before.

Thoughts about capturing the bounty were the farthest thing from his mind.

He decided to follow you at a distance. When he exited the club, he saw the bounty walk into the hotel across the street, but you were nowhere to be found. 

He turned his head to look for you, and he found you walking towards the hotel too. You looked over your shoulder, and Din took a step back so you wouldn’t see him. His hand came up to his helmet as he zoomed in his visual feed, locating the roomkey in your hand and noting the room number printed on it.

He watched you all the way until you were inside the hotel before he stepped out of the shadows. Then, he made his way up to the roof of the hotel to drop down onto the balcony of the penthouse suite. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You usually didn’t do this. 

Yes, you agreed to be arm candy, to spend time with whoever was paying you. But you never, never had sex with your clients. 

Because the men who paid you to spend time with them were mostly… not your type—not that this Twi’lek was your type, but frankly, one of your friends had told you about how great sex with a Twi’lek was, and you were curious. Okay, and a little horny. It had been some time for you. And he was funny. A little handsy but nothing you couldn’t handle. 

And you were completely focused on him all evening, enjoying his hands on your body…until your eyes landed on a Mandalorian sitting in the back of the cantina. You had felt like someone had been watching you for a while, and when you found his visor fixed on you, even if you had no idea if he really was looking at you, you were pleasantly surprised. He tried to blend in, seated in the dark corner, but his silver amor wasn’t exactly easy to hide. 

You had always been fascinated with Mandalorians. 

You had studied them back when...well, before you had to start letting strangers pay for your company to survive. That was like another life. On another planet. 

Now, you were walking down the hall of a way-too-expensive hotel on your way to sleep with someone. Someone who would be paying you for it. For the first time in your life. And you thought you would feel…strange or dirty about it. But you didn’t.

You never had taken this last step. Not that you were judging sex workers. You had nothing but respect for them. But it wasn’t your…plan. 

Your plan involved a place near the campus. A job to teach at the university. A soulmate who loved you. Maybe kids…

It didn’t involve your father dying, leaving you with debt too high to pay, forcing you to give up your dream of teaching to become a… sugar baby?

But it wasn’t the worst? Most of the people who paid you were just looking for company and someone to talk to. Of course, there had been offers before. But up until today you never really entertained the thought. The number of credits that would wander into your pocket after this night were a big bonus though. 

You took a deep breath, checking the blaster in your purse before you used the keycard to open the door.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Din was standing in the shadows on the penthouse suite’s balcony. 

It was raining, and the water was slowly creeping under his armour and soaking his flight suit. He could have come back tomorrow. He didn’t need to wait out here. In the rain.

The bounty wasn’t likely to leave. He had been here on this planet for at least a year. He felt safe. But Din knew he would spend the night thinking about what his filthy hands would do to you if he would leave now. 

Why was he so intrigued by you?

Since the moment he had first laid his eyes on you, it was like you crawled all the way inside him and wouldn’t leave. 

Now he was here, watching you like a fucking creep as you pulled your dress off, and fuck, of course you were completely naked underneath. 

Out of all the things he had done before, watching someone about to have sex was probably the creepiest. But he couldn’t stop. It was like he was…pulled towards you, and he couldn’t fucking explain why. 

He clenched his teeth as you climbed into the bounty’s lap. You were smiling as his greedy hands touched your flawless skin. You were grinding on top of him, and fuck, you looked so fucking sexy. He imagined it was him, not the bounty, beneath you. He would let his hands explore your body, wrap his lips around your stiff nipples, his fingers seeking your slick warmth. He wouldn’t stop until you were screaming his name. 

His cock twitched with interest in his pants. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had been with someone.  

He closed his eyes, taking a few calming breaths. Why was he behaving like this? He was feeling possessive over someone he had never even talked to. When he opened his eyes, he tensed. The bounty’s hand was wrapped around your throat, his other hand holding both of your wrists behind your back. You were gasping for air while struggling against his hold, and the bounty was grinning darkly up at you. You fought against him, your legs kicking and scrambling to get away from him.

It only took seconds for Din to jump through the window. The loud crash of his sudden entrance surprised the bounty enough that he let go of you. And before anything else could happen, Din shot him straight between the eyes. He fell back with a grunt while you jumped and fell to the floor, your hands on your throat. 

Din stood in the middle of the room, water dripping down onto the floor as he looked at the dead bounty. Din was panting, cursing to himself for losing his cool like that. He just lost a big fucking portion of credits for shooting his bounty. He could have brought him in warm.

He heard you gasp as you tried to breathe. His helmet snapped towards you. 

You were cowering in the corner of the room, shivering, your hands clutching your throat. You were completely naked.

Din sighed. He shouldn’t take advantage of your vulnerable state, shouldn’t be admiring your body right now, but fuck, you were so beautiful. Once again, he was thankful for the helmet hiding his face as his eyes lingered a little too long on your tits. He flexed his fingers, uncertain of what to do next. 

You were shaking, one hand coming up to run your fingers over your cheek. You were bleeding. But that was not what made Din inhale sharply. 

There was a soulmate mark just under your right collarbone. A mudhorn in deep black ink. 

Had you met your soulmate already? No… No, you couldn’t have… Din had seen that same soulmate mark countless times. He…. He… He had to tell you…

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You didn’t know exactly when everything went wrong. In one moment, you were grinding against the Twi’lek, and in the next moment, he was choking you so hard you almost passed out. Everything was a blur. There was a loud crash then a blastershot, and you fell to the floor, scrambling to the other side of the room, clutching your throat.

You were breathing harshly, trying to get air into your lungs. 

You were aware of someone else being in the room. You ran a hand over your forehead, before you heard a sharp inhale of breath. Finally looking up, your eyes met beskar. Beskar you had seen before. 

It was the Mandalorian, his armour wet with rain, dripping to the floor.

Had he been outside? Had he been watching? 

You were still shaking, now aware of your very naked body in front of the very big Mandalorian. His helmet seemed focused on you, likely watching your small mental breakdown. Abruptly, he turned away from you, only to turn around and hand you a blanket. You reached your hand up, taking the blanket and pulling it around your body. 

“Thank you…” you said hoarsely. 

“Are you hurt?” his modulated voice asked. 

“Just my dignity.”

You heard a sigh. 

“I…I saw you at the club…” you croaked. 

You saw him rest one of his hands on his hip, his helmet tilting down to look at you. Why was he so big and broad? You should be screaming for help, yet here you were ogling the Mandalorian. 

“I was.”

“What were you doing there?”

“Your… companion. He had a bounty on his head.”

Your eyes widened. 

“And now my cut is gonna be significantly lower because he’s dead. Because I saved you…”

“I didn’t ask you to—” 

He interrupted you by taking a step towards you, and you swallowed, looking up at him. 

“He would have choked you to death. And then he might have still have taken advantage of you. Do you even know who this is?” the Mandalorian hissed. 

You hadn’t thought about that. Of what could have happened to you after you agreed to spend the night with someone you basically knew nothing about than the amount of money he paid for you. Maker… But still…

“He was supposed to be my next paycheck. Now I have to search for a new one,” you snapped back. You were getting angry. Who did he think he was? You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before you opened them again. The Mandalorian had turned to his side, staring out of the broken window.

You took the time to look at him, really look at him and that was when you saw it. A mudhorn. On his pauldron. It was a signet that looked exactly like your… Like your soulmate mark. That… That couldn’t be a coincidence? 

This… This… No… this couldn’t be. 

You reached for the blanket around your shoulders to pull it closer around your body, much like a protective shield. 

“You’re…. Do you… Do you have a soulmate mark?” you whispered.

The Mandalorian turned around to look at you, and you felt like the air around you changed all of the sudden. 

“Yes,” he said. 

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Is it… is it a mudhorn? Like on your armour?” you whispered, gesturing up towards him, the blanket shifting so your mark was on display for him to see. 

He took some time to answer you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as if he was deliberating. Finally, he spoke. “Yes,” he whispered. 

“Is it… Is it on your collarbone too?”

“Yes,” he said right away, and you gasped. 

“Are you…?”

“Your soulmate?” the Mandalorian asked, and you nodded. “I have the matching mark. So yeah. Yeah, I think you’re my soulmate.”

It would certainly explain why you felt this…pull between the two of you. 

“Show me…” you whispered, and he shook his head. 

“Not here. Not… I am not… My armour stays on when I’m not… I can’t show you. Not here.”

You took a deep breath. You had read about Mandalorians. There were some who never took off their armour or helmet in front of anyone other than family. 

“What… What does this mean? For us?”

“I think we have to stay together,” he said, and you frowned. 

“I don’t even know you. I can’t just…” you shook your head at him. 

“It’s not like we can break the soulmate bond,” he said, like neither of you had a choice, “so we better accept our fates now and…”

That was true. You had heard the stories of soulmates who met but chose to not spend their time together who died because their soul couldn’t handle to be apart from each other. 

“I could kill you,” you deadpanned. “That would break the soulmate bond, wouldn’t it?”

“You could try, but…” he shrugged and let his words trail off.

“Be very careful of your next words,” you warned. 

“Look, I’m a bounty hunter, you could try to run but sooner or later I would find you. And…why fight this? The universe wants us to be together…”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was not how Din had planned this day. He…had changed in the last months. Even more so since he had to let Grogu go. He longed for someone to…love him. And here you were with his clan sign on your collarbone, and you were beautiful and didn’t take anyone’s shit. 

Yet, here he was threatening you…

He sighed. 

He was going about this all wrong. 

“You know how the soulmate bond works,” he said. “We will be miserable and eventually die, if we don’t stay together now that we’ve met.”

You raised your eyebrow at him.

If he wanted you to go with him, he had to make you trust him. Trust him as your soulmate. 

He took a deep breath and grabbed his vibroblade. He offered it to you, handle first.

“There’s a spot just below my helmet on my neck that is not covered by beskar. If you truly don’t want to get to know me, which I can understand after how I’ve behaved, just end it now. There’s a ship docked in the hangar on slot 77. The entrance code is 209887. You will find credits in the compartment under the pilot’s panel. The ship will be yours. Kill me and take it if that’s what you want.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You stared at the vibroblade in his hand before you looked up at him again. Slowly you reached for the blade, clicking it on. 

It burst to life, flickering in your hand. You looked at the blade and then up to the Mandalorian. 

Ever since your soulmate mark made itself known all those years back, you had the romantic idea of running into your soulmate one day and living happily ever after. Never in your wildest dreams did you think it would be like this: naked and vulnerable. But…you looked down at the blade in your hand again. He had made himself vulnerable too. 

Yes. Yes, he was a complete stranger, but you couldn’t deny that you felt pulled towards him—from the moment you saw him in the cantina. Was this really the soulmate bond?

If it was, you knew that he was right and that you would eventually die if you didn’t stay with him.

What reason did he have to lie to you about something like that? He… had to be your soulmate, right? He had the matching mark right there on his armour. That must mean something.

You got familiar with the weight of the blade in your hand, gripping your fingers more tightly around the handle. You could kill him. Just like that. You’d have credits and a ship, and you could go wherever you wanted and never again be dependent on other people paying you for your company. You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, missing the way the Mandalorian’s helmet was fixed on your soulmate mark that was peeking out under the blanket. 

But if you killed him right here, you would never experience the things you’d only ever read about. Soulmate bonds are supposed to be sacred. If you found your match, you were destined to be perfect for each other. 

You looked up at the Mandalorian. 

You couldn’t deny how you felt towards him since first seeing him in the Cantina. You never reacted that way to anyone before. You just had to have a little faith…

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Din waited, not moving a muscle as he watched you decide what to do. He knew if you did try to kill him, he could block you in seconds, but he wanted to give you time to decide for yourself what you wanted to do. 

He wanted you to choose this. Choose him. 

Soulmate bonds were sacred. If you really killed your soulmate, you would never be happy ever again. He didn’t think you’d take that risk.

He watched you shut off the vibroblade and hand it back to him. 

“I have to get to my place to…get some stuff.”

“Okay,” he said, breathing out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook here. This doesn’t mean anything. I just… I always dreamed of meeting my soulmate. And…. While this is not how I imagined the meeting would go, I am…strangely fascinated? I need to see where this goes. For myself. And… I trust you to not kill me. For some reason. So I’m going with you.”

“That… That’s good. I’m glad. You won’t regret it.”

“I think the universe will make sure of that,” you said, giving him a small smile.

Din felt like he couldn’t breathe. You were…so beautiful. 

“Well, how about I take care of the bounty and you meet me at the hangar? I would go with you but—”

“Oh no. Take him and do…whatever you have to do with him. I don’t want to end up costing you anymore credits,” you said. 

Din flinched. “I’m—I shouldn’t have—”

“Yeah. Yeah,” you cut him off. “Apparently, you’re going to have a lot of time to make up for it. So…” You turned away from him, searching for your little sparkly dress and put it back on. 

Din was hard as a rock in his pants as he watched you slip the fabric over your body. 

You smoothed it over your hips and faced him again. “I’ll see you on your ship then I guess?”

“Yes.”

He watched you leave, taking a deep breath when the door clicked shut behind you. Din looked down at the dead bounty. He took his com out, informing Karga about the unfortunate death and sent him a confirmation, getting an answer and the notification of payment right away. Karga would have someone take care of the body for him. 

And that meant Din had enough time to make a quick stop inside the city to make sure nothing would prevent him from keeping you to himself. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were clearly insane. 

Why did you say you would go with him? A man you didn’t know? 

You didn’t even know if he was a man. You were pretty positive he was one, though you couldn’t say why. A smile sneaked to your face as you packed some of your clothes. 

You had met your soulmate. 

Finally.

Even though the circumstances weren’t anything close to what you’d imagined, you couldn’t help but be…happy. You felt it—the bond. It was real. You were attracted to the Mandalorian. You wanted to be close to him. After knowing him for less than an hour, you wanted… You wanted to be with him. 

There was nothing holding you back here. You had the chance to see the universe with your soulmate by your side. 

You laughed to yourself. 

You would be happy with him. This was fate. You and the Mandalorian were made for each other. 

You grabbed your little bag full of clothes and some personal items before you quickly made your way towards the hangar. 

To start your life with your soulmate. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When he told you he had a ship, you thought about…well…a ship. A ship you could board and sleep in to join him on his travels. You weren’t expecting a N1 starfighter. The midlife crisis of spaceships. 

There was no way you would be able to fit in that tiny passenger bubble. 

He was sitting in the cockpit when you got there with your tiny bag slung over your shoulder. It was disturbing how few possessions you owned. He pulled himself out of the seat to help you with your bag. 

“Where…will I be sitting?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You had changed. You were wearing boots, dark pants, and a green sweater. You looked…It sounded stupid but you looked even more beautiful. You didn’t need glitter and sparkles. He wanted you just like this. 

“I admit I might not have thought this through,” he sighed, slightly frustrated with himself while the thought of you having to ride in the cockpit with him was…anything but unpleasant. 

“Where are we going?” you asked him. 

That was a good question. He had to return this ship. He had gotten a message from Peli that she had found a Crest. He had listened to her rambling about it being a newer model and complaining about being able to get a better ship, but he had insisted it had to be something he was familiar with. 

Once he switched ships he wanted to take you somewhere where the two of you could be alone. He wanted you to himself. He needed you to trust him, get to know him. To love him. 

“I have a new ship waiting for me. It’s a real ship. With sleeping cots and a fresher. And then… Then we can go wherever you want,” he promised. 

He felt his mudhorn mark throb beneath his beskar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wherever you want? Where did you want to go? 

You looked at him, the imposing Mandalorian who was your soulmate. All thoughts of doubt seemed to have disappeared once you had made your decision to just let fate do its thing. If the universe decided the two of you should be together, it must have a plan.

“I want to go somewhere with an ocean. Somewhere—somewhere I can take a deep breath. Somewhere where we can get to know each other? Like, are you even a human under all of this?”

He tilted his helmet at you, and you swore you could hear a chuckle. 

“I am a human. Trust me.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully, and he took a step closer to you. Your breath hitched as you stared up into his visor, wondering if or when you would be able to see his face. 

He was so close you could hear him breathe under his helmet. 

“I will show you. Once we’re alone in space, deal?” he whispered. 

You sucked your bottom lip in and nodded. 

“Are you okay with riding in the cockpit with me? It’s a short trip. Seven hours.”

“Seven hours? Sitting in your lap? An hour after meeting you?” you asked.

“I promise to behave?” he asked, and you were rolling your eyes. 

“Just get us out of here, Mando,” you said, shaking your head.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Din did not think this through. 

The cockpit was tiny, and you were everywhere. You made a point to stay away from his crotch which he was thankful for. Once he had brought the ship up into hyperspace, you looked into the stars like it was the first time you saw them. 

And then you began to ask questions. Where was he from? How old was he? What was his favourite colour?

You asked whatever came to your mind, and Din was getting addicted to hearing your laugh. At one point, you had looked over your shoulder with your beautiful eyes, and Din was sure he fell even more in love with you at that moment.

Love. A powerful word. An even more powerful feeling but it was what he felt for you already. 

Now you were sleeping, your back resting against his chest as you held his hand. His ungloved hand. He had to prove to you that he was human after all. 

As he looked down at you, he wondered if he deserved you. If he deserved… a soulmate. Someone to love. Someone to take care of. 

You sighed in your sleep, and Din found himself smiling beneath his visor. Before he could stop himself, he pushed his helmet up so he could kiss the top of your head. 

No one would take you away from him. 

He would make sure of it. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The new ship was definitely an improvement. The Razor Crest had a big bed and a fresher with real water. It was almost more luxury than what you had in your tiny apartment back…home?

Coruscant never really felt like home. You looked at Mando… Din as he sat in the pilot’s chair. 

You had left Tatooine a week ago. He had some business to take care off before he would take you somewhere where the two of you could be alone. 

But in the last week, you had already gotten to know him. 

You knew he wasn’t a morning person. He did not talk very much, but he made an effort to talk to you. He seemed to… He wanted to let you in. He answered every single question you had, asked you questions in return, and last night, he gave you his name. 

You still hadn’t seen much of him. He let you hold his hand when you asked for it. 

He had introduced you as his soulmate to whoever you had met. 

And it made you feel warm and soft every single time. 

He wasn’t the big scary bounty hunter you had met in the beginning. Din must have lived a lonely life. He had told you about how he grew up and how he had to give up his child only a little while ago. 

Your heart broke for him as he told you about it. And after, you had held him in your arms, in the security of his dark bed where you hadn't been able to see him. 

“We’ll be in Trask by morning,” Din said, and you looked at him. He had turned his seat towards you, and you gave him a small smile. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked. 

You sucked your bottom lip in. “I… I want to see it,” you whispered. 

Din tilted his head to the side. 

“Your soulmate mark. I know you said there are rules with you Mandalorians. And… I remember our conversation about marriage. And…” you took a deep breath. You had been thinking about it for the last two days. 

You were soulmates. There was no way you weren’t. Not with the way you were feeling when you were around him. Sometimes, you missed him when he was just on the other side of the ship. 

You loved him. With all your heart. 

Spending the last week with him had made that clear for you. You wanted to start your future with him. To make him laugh. To hold him. To love him. 

And… You wanted to see him. To see the soulmate mark. To see the last proof of the universe marking him as yours before you vowed to be his for the rest of your life. 

And you didn’t want to waste any more time not being his in all ways possible.

“Cyar’ika…” he said quietly.

“Show me,” you got up from your seat, putting your hands on his shoulders as he looked up at you. 

“Show me and then make me yours Din Djarin,” you smiled softly. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There was a part of Din that felt guilty. 

Guilty about not giving the both of you more time. Guilty about how the two of you met only a week ago, even if it felt like a lifetime ago.

Guilty about not being able to give you more.

But as you looked down at him with your beautiful eyes, the soft smile on those plush lips he loved so much, he wanted nothing more than to give you what you asked for. 

“If I show you…” he whispered.

“Technically only if you take your helmet off, but yeah I know. And for the record. I want to marry you. You’re my soulmate. And we already talked about this. We’re bound to be together by the stars. Make me yours,” you said. 

Din took a deep, shaky breath. Slowly, he began to unclasp every part of the beskar of his body, setting it down on the floor. When he was left only in his flight suit and helmet, he slowly slipped off his gloves.

He was nervous. 

He wondered if you would like it. The mudhorn. And…the rest of him. For some reason, he felt vulnerable around you, even though he knew he did not have to be. You were his and his alone. And after he took this last step, nothing would be able to separate you. 

Ever.

Slowly, he began to pull at the zipper of his flight suit, revealing inch after inch of skin to your eyes. He gulped when the zipper rested just under his navel, and you reached a hand out.

“Can I?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He nodded, and you smiled, taking a deep breath, before your fingertips ran over his chest, pushing the fabric to the side until you saw it. A mudhorn. On his right collarbone. The same mudhorn you had on yours. Your smile widened, your fingers tracing the shape of it, and you felt him shiver beneath you. 

Not that you had any doubts, but…this…this made it feel even more real. Slowly, you leaned down, giving him time to stop you before your lips softly kissed his soulmate mark. His hand came up to yours on his chest, and he gasped. 

“I love you, Din Djarin,” you whispered. “And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Din stared at his reflection in the tiny mirror of the fresher. His fingers tracing the mudhorn of his collarbone. 

You were his. 

You were about to become his wife. 

Right now, you were waiting in his bed, smelling like the soap he used because you had showered before him. He would be a husband in a matter of moments, and then he would finally be able to kiss you. 

To touch you the way he had longed to ever since meeting you. 

He took a deep breath as he exited the fresher without his helmet, only a towel wrapped around his hips. The ship was dark aside from the faint light coming from the cot, and he could see your bare legs the closer he got. 

“My eyes are closed,” you promised, and he smiled. 

“I trust you,” he said and entered the cot. He sat down on the bed next to you, his cock already hardening at the sight of you in one of his old shirts. You looked like a goddess, and he couldn’t believe you were his. He touched your ankle, and you jumped before you laughed. 

“Repeat after me,” he whispered as he got on the bed. He carefully brought your leg up to kiss your ankle, listening to  you exhale a sharp breath. 

“Mhi solus tome,” he said, slowly kissing his way up your calf.

“M-Mhi solus tome,” you repeated. He smiled against your skin.

“Mhi solus dar’tome,” he continued, kissing up your thigh. He saw your fingers twitch. 

“Mhi so… Mhi solus dar’tome,” you gasped.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You felt his fingers slowly pushing your shirt up, hearing his low groan when he noticed you were completely bare underneath. His lips kissed every part of new skin that was revealed to him. 

“Mhi me’dinui an,” he rasped, and you moaned quietly as his lips kissed the underside of your left breast. 

“Mhi medinui an,” you repeated after him, anticipation filling you as you felt his breath brush over your collarbone, kissing your soulmate mark. You smiled as he kissed your cheek.

“Mhi ba’juri verde,” he finished, and you took a deep breath. 

“Mhi ba’juri verde,” you whispered, before you slowly blinked your eyes open. He was smiling down at you, his brown eyes on yours. He was… He was absolutely breathtaking, and suddenly, everything seemed to finally shift into place. 

He was yours, and you were his. 

“Kiss me, husband,” you smiled, and Din wasted no time before he pressed his lips down on yours.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He was…everywhere. 

His lips on yours. 

His hands pushing your shirt up until he could pull it off.

His chest against yours.

His cock…

You gasped as you felt him against your thigh, his knee between your legs, moving just enough to give you some friction. 

“Din…” you gasped, his lips wandering down your throat. He looked up at you with dark eyes. You were grinding your cunt against his thigh, desperate to feel him.

“Please…” you begged, your hands in his hair, lightly pulling. 

“What do you want, beautiful girl?” he hummed before his lips kissed the soft skin of your breast.

“You… I… I want you inside…”

He bit into the side of your breast, making you cry out. 

“Mine,” he groaned before he kissed up your chest, and you felt him shift, one of his hands dipping in between your legs.

“You’re so wet for me. So wet for your husband,” he grinned and pushed two fingers inside easily. 

“My soulmate,” you smiled at him, and his eyes softened before he kissed you again. His fingers kept moving in and out of you, his thumb flicking your clit and you moaned softly against his lips. 

You felt like you were going to burst. 

If this was why the universe made a soulmate, you had to make sure to show some gratitude. 

“Cum for me,” Din whispered against your ear. He sucked your earlobe between his lips. 

“Cum for your soulmate,” he hummed, and you shattered. Your fingers dug into his strong back as your vision blacked out, your orgasm pulling you under until you were gasping for air. 

“That’s it. Such a good girl for me…” you heard Din praise you, and you whimpered. 

He looked down at you, and if you did not love him already, the look of pure affection he was giving you would have been enough. 

He pulled his fingers from inside of you, wrapping them around his cock to coat it in your slick, and you felt the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance. 

“I don’t have an implant,” you whispered as you looked up at him. 

“I—fuck—me neither.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, and he leaned into your hand, closing his eyes. 

“It’s okay. I—I just wanted you to know… I… You can…” you flustered. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He was sure he was gonna black out. He was holding on to every bit of restraint he had. 

“Are—are you sure?” he asked you. You were sucking your bottom lip in, looking shyly up at him with your big beautiful eyes as you nodded. 

“I am. I… You can cum inside of me. I want you to.”

“Fuck,” he muttered and kissed you again. 

You were perfect. His perfect wife. His.

He was still kissing you when he slowly pushed inside of you. He wanted to savour this moment. The moment he finally claimed what was his.

Forever.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You closed your eyes as you felt him enter you. Slowly, his thick length pushed inside of you for what felt like hours until he stilled, his cock settled deep inside you. He filled you so well he must have been made for you. 

“Look at me,” he whispered, and you opened your eyes. 

“I love you,” he said, and you smiled. You wrapped your arms around his back to pull him closer, wanting to feel his weight on top of you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. 

“I love you too,” you whispered against his ear with a smile. 

And then he began to move. Slowly at first. He kissed every part of skin he could reach, thrusting deep and slow until you hooked your legs behind his. 

“Claim me, baby,” you cried out, and he growled, letting go of the last bit of his self control as he began to fuck you. 

Hard and fast, your whole body moved with the strength behind his thrusts.

“Mine,” he hissed, biting your shoulder. One of his hands was holding your hip while his other pulled your chin up towards his, his weight on his elbows above you. 

“I’m not gonna last. Your pussy is so fucking perfect. Made for me,” he moaned, and you whined. 

He pushed himself up, kneeling in between your legs, both of his hands digging into your hips as he pumped into you. The changed angle made him hit something devastating inside of you, and you whimpered.

“I’m gonna…”

“Cum,” he ordered, and you came, fluttering around his hard cock as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he hissed. 

“Gonna fucking cum inside you… Pump you full of my cum until it takes…” he groaned. 

“Gonna breed you until you’re round with my child so everyone can see you’re mine. Fucking mine.” 

He threw his head back, and you felt him twitch inside of you as he filled you with his seed.

You were out of breath but smiling when he opened his eyes to look down at you. 

“Forever,” you smiled, and he smiled back. And you couldn’t help but feel lucky that you were the only one who would see this smile.

“Forever,” he whispered before he pulled you up against his chest so he could kiss you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Later, Din looked at you as you slept in his arms, his fingers stroking over the mark on your collarbone that matched his. He knew he had to have you from the first moment he laid eyes on you. And if that meant getting your soulmate mark tattooed on his right collarbone for you to trust him...well, he would do it again in a heartbeat. 

He still remembered his actual soulmate mark, a dark primrose on his left thigh that eventually scarred over after he was stabbed one too many times. 

He could only hope his true soulmate never showed up, and he would make sure you never met yours even if it meant never seeing his covert again. 

Because one thing was for sure, you were his. And no one would take you away from him. 

Tbc

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part sixteen

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

the aftermath (and after that).

a/n: I swear this is the last time liv and joel will fight for a while 🫠 we’re working through some shit, but we come out the other side! ALSO TUMBLR IS STILL BEING A BITCH AND CUTTING OFF THE ENDING SOMETIMES but not other times?? READ ON AO3 IF YOU CAN!!!!!

word count: 5.8k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, canon typical violence/injuries, blood, treatment of injuries, angst, everyone says a lot of shitty things but we come full circle, unprotected p-in-v (wrap ur shit in the apocalypse folks), let me know if i missed anything!

✨follow @friskito-library for updates on new chapters/works!✨

2 months later - May 2009

You’re standing at the stove, nursing a cup of shitty coffee. It’s lukewarm by now; your mind has been wandering all morning, and you keep forgetting about it, leaving it on the counter or the bookshelf or the kitchen table.

There’s too much on your mind, not enough, too much, not enough.

Where are they, now? Are they alive, are they safe? Is he still with—

You shake your head, blink back the tears that have crawled up your throat. It’s the same feeling, every day since it happened. You can’t shake the guilt, the grief, the fear. It just comes back up again the next morning, strong enough to knock you to your knees if you let it. You don’t, most days, but other days, you can’t help it.

The curtains are drawn, mid-morning light filtering through the gauzy material. You should really find something better, something that blocks out the light more thoroughly. Maybe then you could both get some half-decent sleep that wasn’t alcohol or drug-induced. 

You’ve done a lot of drinking in the two months, which, given the circumstance, isn’t shocking, but you’re running out of bottles in your stash behind the fridge. Tess has brought you back a few more, but you want to go back to a few places you haven’t shown her yet, and you know full well Joel isn’t about to let you go for a run anytime soon.

Sitting on the couch makes you antsy, so you park yourself at the kitchen table, bringing your coffee with you. There’s a bottle for whiskey on the table, and you reach for it, pour a healthy amount into your mug. The sound of the bottle hitting the table feels ten times louder than it really is, and you sigh heavily as you lift the mug.

From the corner of your eye, you see Joel rise from the bed. His movements are slow, his boots dragging a bit with every step. You see him push his hand through his hair — it’s grown out on the side where you’d had to cut it away, more of a mop than it was before. You should trim it, the beard too, make him look a little less unkempt.

He makes his way into the kitchen, but you don’t turn your head. He stops behind your chair, bends at the waist to brush a kiss at your temple, and carries on to the stove. “Mornin’.”

You return the sentiment, sipping your spiked coffee. You set the mug back down, reach for the bottle again. You can feel him watching. “What?”

“That kind of morning, huh?”

Saying nothing, you top up your mug.

It’s quiet, mostly, for a few minutes, as Joel makes his coffee, fishes a granola bar out of the cabinet. He tosses one to you, too, grumbles something about putting food in your stomach if you’re intent on drinking. You let it sit on the table, right smack in the middle of your map of Boston, and just stare it down.

The scar on your side prickles with memories of the last two months. It’s a strange feeling, not like any of the other scars you have, accompanied by the strange raised lines that spread from the bite itself, spidering out across your skin. The infection, you figure, trying to work it’s way through your bloodstream and failing, by some stroke of luck.

Is that what it is? You’re lucky?

The bite healed easily, once you were able to give it the proper attention. There were other things that took priority.

+

Another stroke of luck, that Nick’s aim failed him miserably that night.

They both fired at the same time. Joel’s bullet found a home in Nick’s shoulder, knocking him back a step, but Nick’s…

Joel shoved you backwards as the shots sounded, and you sprawled back on the pavement, stuck watching as the bullet from Nick’s gun hit Joel in the head. Horror rose like bile in your throat as he stumbled back, tripped over his boots, landed on top of you. You screamed, scrambled beneath him, grabbing for his head, yelling his name.

“Joel!”

Nick stood there and stared, one hand gripping his bleeding shoulder. His gun clattered to the pavement.

There were fresh tears on your face, your movements frantic as you turned Joel over, tried to see his face. The fear sparked with relief when you saw he was still breathing, saw his eyes were cracked open. The bullet had hit just above his temple, and skimmed along the right side his skull. There was blood everywhere already, pouring down the side of his face, making his hair clump together. You reached for his bag, pulled a bandage out and pressed it against his head. Joel hissed, his hand reaching up to cover yours.

And then Nick spoke.

“Liv, I just—”

Everything in you screamed as you grabbed Joel’s gun from where it had landed, scrambling to your feet and lifting it, pointing it at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

His eyes were wide, pupils blown, as he stared back at you. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

You took a step forward, pulled back the hammer on the gun. “What do you think?”

“I’m doing my fucking job, Liv! You’ve been bit, and you think I’m just gonna let you back in here? I can’t, y-you could get people killed. You could turn, you could—”

“I was bit yesterday, you fucking jackass,” you spat, taking another step. There was only a few feet between you. “Why do you think we were out there all night? You know what, it doesn’t fucking matter. It’s not—”

“Yesterday?” Nick repeated, and his eyes got impossibly wider. “If you were bit yesterday…” He trailed off, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. “Liv, that means you’re—”

You took another step, until the barrel of Joel’s gun was pressed right to Nick’s chest. “Don’t you fucking dare. I’m not, as far as you know. You tell FEDRA that I am, and I’ll tell them about the smuggling, about the sneaking out, all of it. I will drag you down with me, Nick, so help me god.” The corner of your mouth twitched, an unkind smile on your face. “Guess I’m just as terrible as you thought.”

Joel called your name, and everything in you froze.

“Olivia.” You couldn’t move, staring at Nick’s face, rage making your gut twist. “Put the gun down.”

Slowly but surely, you did. You shoved it into the waist of your jeans, turned back to Joel. You were both grunting with pain as you got him to his feet. He was pale, his hands shaking as he gripped your forearms, used you as leverage. Worry filled your gut.

When you turned around, Nick was gone.

As quickly as you could, you took Joel home. He held the bandage to his head the entire way, and you supported his sagging weight as much as you could, your side screaming in pain with every step, but you knew whatever you were feeling, he was feeling too. You stopped a few times, propped him against the brick and wiped the blood from his face.

No one dared approach you as you walked. Your guns were hidden, the bat slid between the straps of your backpack, but you paid it no mind. Even the few FEDRA soldiers that crossed your path looked the other way, and it made your gut twist. No one wanted to get involved, risk themselves for someone else, and as you approached the building, you knew you couldn’t go to Deanna. You couldn’t go to Tess or Tommy. You had to help Joel, then help yourself. If anyone saw the bite, it put them at risk. You were already a risk. 

Leaving Nick alive was a risk.

Joel nearly passed out on the stairs, and you had to half-drag him down the hallway to your apartment door. He came to again in the doorway, stayed alert long enough to get to the couch, but then he was out again. You hastily threw a clean bandage on your bite, grabbed what first aid supplies you could find, and set to work.

You had to cut his hair, baring the wound along his scalp. There was blood everywhere, sticking to your fingers and clumping his hair together, and you found the cleanest towel you could to wipe it away. He hissed loudly when you wiped at it with alcohol, one hand flying out and curling around your thigh, fingers digging into your jeans. You shushed him, tried to work as quickly as your shaking hands would allow. “I know, baby. I know.”

It felt like forever, sitting there, cleaning the blood from him. It was deep enough in one spot to need a stitch or two, and you were grateful as all hell that Deanna had taught you what she had, that you knew enough to fix it, to make him better. Tears slipped out of his shut eyes as you stitched it, and you fished an oxy out of your stash, pushed it between his lips.

 Finally, his breathing evened out. The wound was still nasty-looking, but the blood had slowed, the few stitches you’d given him were holding, and his grip on you was relaxed. Not completely limp, but relaxed. You smoothed your hand over his hair, brushing it away from the wound. Joel mumbled your name, and you leaned down to kiss his forehead, wincing at the pain in your side. You needed to tend to that. “Get some sleep,” you murmured, rubbing your hand across his chest. “I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t nod so much as just lift his chin, but it was confirmation enough, and you got to your feet, taking the first aid supplies with you, heading for the bathroom.

You were a mess, just as blood-covered as Joel, if not more so, crimson streaked across your middle, dragged down your hips, disappearing beneath your waistband. You peeled off your jeans, pulled off the bandage, bit your lip as the pain spiked. Your hands shook as you reached for the rubbing alcohol, tried to stifle your whimper as you poured it over the bite. If you were too loud, you knew Joel would try to come and help, and you didn’t want that. He needed rest.

You’d stashed some of the same medical glue stuff that Deanna had used on you years back, and you reached for that. It stung just as bad as the alcohol, but it seemed to work. The bleeding slowed, you wrapped yourself up, tying the gauze around your middle to keep the bandages in place. You popped an oxy yourself, swallowed it dry, spread your blood-covered hands across the counter.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, and cried.

It wouldn’t stop, as you washed the blood from your hands, cleared away the dirty bandages and towels. You didn’t dare make a sound, didn’t want Joel to hear, as you moved through the apartment, cleaned up. He was out cold, hand dangling off the edge of the couch. You circled back to him every few minutes, hot tears on your face, checked his pulse, made sure he was still breathing. You fished a bottle of whiskey out from behind the fridge, drank until your throat felt raw with it. You perched in the chair across from the couch, watched Joel, eyes glued to the rise and fall of his chest. He was mumbling in his sleep, his face pinched, and you got up, sat at the edge of the coffee table instead. You smoothed your hand over his hair, careful of the bandages, over and over and over until his face relaxed, and he leaned into your touch.

Then someone knocked at the door.

Your heart raced as you walked towards it. What if it was Nick? Or FEDRA? Had he ratted you out? It had been maybe two hours since the alleyway. What was—

“Tess,” you breathed, sighing heavily as you pulled the door open, but the relief was temporary, fresh fear crawling up your throat when you saw the expression on her face. She reached for you, hands wrapping around your biceps.

“They’re gone, Liv,” she said, and confusion prickled at you, obviously clear on your face as she continued. “Deanna and the kids. I just went up there, and the door was open. All of their stuff is gone, and I found this on the table.”

She handed you a piece of notebook paper, folded in half, your name scrawled in an unfamiliar hand on the front.

Tess stepped into the apartment with you, closing the door behind her. From the corner of your eye, you saw her gaze snap to Joel laid out on the couch, but she didn’t say anything as she lead you to the kitchen table, sat you down in the chair as you unfolded the note.

I won’t tell anyone what you are, but I won’t let you put them at risk. Don’t come looking, Liv. You’ve done enough. Stay in Boston. Keep yourself alive. — N.C.

Your hands shook as you read the words, over and over again, as if they might change if you read them just one more time. Tess just stared at you, her eyes occasionally flicking over to Joel on the couch. You laid one hand on the table, shaking so much your fingertips tapped against the wood. “Did you read this?”

“No.”

“Can I have your lighter?”

“Lighter?” Tess repeated, but nodded, fishing it out from the pocket of her jacket. “Liv, what does it say?”

Wordlessly, you took it from her, got to your feet, walked towards the kitchen sink. You folded the note in half again, flicked the lighter, and let the corner catch, holding it over the sink as the flame ate at the paper, until your name curled to ash, until the fire grew too close to your hand and you dropped it into the sink, watched until the paper crumbled into nothing.

“Liv?”

“I need you to understand something,” you said, still staring at the sink. You heard the scrape of a chair, felt Tess moving to stand behind you a moment later. She reached for you, and you flinched, but let her grab your arm, turn you towards her. “Nick took them. I can’t tell you what happened. Ever. Joel’s alive, and I’m alive, and that’s all that matters, but I can never tell you what happened. And I need you to be okay with that.”

She stared at you for a long moment, eyes raking over your face. You held your ground, curled your fingers around the sink to try and keep yourself upright. The air felt still, the both of you just staring at each other, her eyes searching yours. Your side twinged with pain, and you put your arm around your middle, flattening your palm over the bandage. And then finally, Tess broke first, rubbing a hand over her face. “Okay.”

She didn’t stay long. Long enough to have a drink with you, both of you sitting in silence, the only noise in the apartment Joel’s slow breathing and the clink of your glasses. “I’ll cover for you, if Tommy asks,” she said, halfway out the door. “Clearly you two need some rest.”

“Thank you.”

And then she was gone. As soon as the door swung closed, you reeled, planting your hands agains the wood, hanging your head between your shoulders.

They were gone. Deanna, Henry, Emily. Nick. Gone. You didn’t know where; you knew Nick had enough sway with FEDRA that he could get transferred to another QZ if he asked, but taking the three of them with him? That was different. There’s no way FEDRA would sign off on something like that, which meant he was sneaking them out, and instantly, you were so worried you felt ill. The thought of those kids out beyond the wall, it made bile crawl up your throat, and you sprinted for the bathroom, emptied your stomach into the sink.

There was a hand on your head a few minutes later, and Joel sank onto the tile behind you, pulling you back against his chest. You protested, whining as you wiped at your mouth, but he just held you tighter. Neither of you said a word, leaned against the bathroom cabinet, until the sun disappeared outside and the dark was all that remained.

+

“You need to eat something,” Joel says to you, sinking into the chair across from you. He pushes the granola bar across the table to you, and you just stare him down, lifting the mug to your lips again defiantly. He stares back, his brow going hard before he looks away, pushes his hand through his hair. “You can’t keep doing this, Liv.”

“Can’t keep doing what, Joel?” you throw back, your tone nearly mocking. “Please, enlighten me. There’s a fucking laundry list of shit I shouldn’t be doing — living included — yet here I am.”

He bristles, shoulders going tense. “You can’t keep shoving your shit away,” he says, hand curling around his own mug. “I know that you’re upset, about Deanna and the kids, but they weren’t—” Joel cuts himself off, staring down into his coffee, and now you’re the one bristling, planting your feet on the ground and learning forward.

“They weren’t what?”

He won’t meet your eyes, shaking his head as he keeps staring down into the mug. “Nothin’.”

“They weren’t what, Joel?”

Finally, his eyes lift to yours, and you can’t read them, can’t understand the expression in that dark gaze. “They weren’t your kids, Liv.”

It hits you like a punch to the gut. “I’m sorry?”

“I know that you…that you cared for them, and you helped Deanna raise them, but—”

“Shut up.” The words are nearly spit from your mouth, shoving your chair back and getting to your feet. The whiskey crawls up your throat, buzzing in the back of your mind, threatening to send you sideways, but you grip the table, lean against it. “You don’t know everything that happened here before you showed up, Joel. You don’t know what we—”

“Sarah died in my arms,” he throws back, still sitting, shoulders still tense, still not looking at you. “And I couldn’t do anything to stop it. So don’t talk to me about what happened before, or what you went through. There’s a lot of shit we haven’t told each other, Liv, but don’t you dare try to throw this in my face.”

Your hand curls into a fist, and you press your knuckles into the tabletop. “Oh, you want all the details, Joel? You wanna know how Emily watched her father rip her mother’s throat out, right in front of her? That kid hasn’t said a word since the outbreak, you ever wondered why? And me, well, where do I start? You want the list of the people I’ve killed? The shit I pulled to stay alive after the walls first went up?

“And you, fuck, I should be furious at you. All this time, you’ve been here, right in front of me, but my sister was alive, and you didn’t have the balls to tell me? You’re right, Joel, there is a lot of shit we haven’t told each other, and I let it slide. But Anna? How could you?”

Your voice snaps on the last word, and you don’t bother wiping at your face, tears dripping off your chin, splattering onto the table. He finally stares back at you, his expression still unreadable. “I didn’t want to hurt you any more than I already was, when we got here,” he says, his voice gruff and low. “And then when you got bit, I knew it was the only thing that would stop you from losing it, stop you from telling me to put a goddamned bullet in your head. I’m sorry, that I kept it from you, Liv, I am. I just didn’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your bottom lip quivers, and you sink your teeth into it, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. “Well, you are.”

With that, you turn on your heel, yanking your jacket from the back of the chair and walking out the door. If Joel calls after you, you don’t hear it.

Your head is spinning with every step you take up the stairs. Deanna’s apartment is still empty. FEDRA tried to shuffle new tenants in a few days after they were gone, but you wouldn’t let them. You expected pushback, but got none, and part of you wondered if Nick had anything to do with it.

Now, you step through the unlocked door, and your heart sinks into your toes. Whatever they hadn’t taken with them has been rummaged through, picked over, anything useful long gone. Not that it shocks you. But there are still remnants of them, Henry’s math homework spread out on the kitchen table, Emily’s pictures taped onto the walls, Lego pieces and Monopoly money scattered across the living room floor. A long-empty bottle of gin sits in the sink, and you wonder if it was empty before they left, or if Deanna needed the liquid courage to agree to go with Nick.

You wander, your hand skimming along Emily’s drawings on the wall. The paper is torn in some places, crinkled in others, and as you move, one of them flutters to the floor, facedown. You crouch down, picking it back up, and your heart breaks even more. 

It’s a classic little kid drawing, stick figures of different colours on the page. Four of them, total, each with a name scrawled beneath.

EM. HENRY. DEE. LIV.

Joel’s right, they’re not your kids. You didn’t hold them as they died, you didn’t watch the life leave their bodies. You didn’t give birth to them, but it doesn’t matter. Since the mall, you and Deanna have been the closest those kids have to family. Before Joel had come back, they were the only things keeping you going, and providing for them was what kept you on your feet, kept you going beyond the wall. To keep them safe, keep them alive, keep them healthy. They were your family.

If it weren’t for Nick, you know that FEDRA would have dragged them off to the schools for orphans, that you would have lost them much earlier than you did. But now he’s undone all of that, left you reeling.

Now they’re gone.

+

You don’t come home, and Joel gets anxious with every hour that passes.

It was unfair of him, to say what he did. He knows he shouldn’t have kept Anna from you, that he should have told you what had happened a long time ago. But the look on your face, the crack in your voice, that’s exactly what he was trying to avoid, and yet here he is. Right where he didn’t want to be.

His hands shake as he props his elbows on the table, leans his face into his palms. The memory of Sarah will forever leave him reeling, and the guilt eats at him for using it against you. He knows how much you loved those kids, knows that their being gone, not knowing to where, not knowing if they made it, it’s not the same, but it’s still awful. The fact that Cowan’s the one who took them from you just makes matters worst.

The scar along his scalp prickles. It’s healed nicely; you pulled the stitches out when they were ready, kept him bandaged, forced him to take it easy. You had enough ration cards to get you by for some time, and while you weren’t telling Tess or Tommy what had happened, Tess showed up once a week with some food, spare cans of soup or beans or whatever she could get her hands on.

He hasn’t told you that his hearing has been off, ever since that night. It took a while for him to notice it himself. Things have been so tense between you since that night, there hasn’t been enough conversation for him to realize something was wrong. It wasn’t until Tommy asked him for help with a job at the other building — a door that needed replacing — that Joel even noticed. His brother had called his name four times before Joel had even responded, and once Tommy said what needed to be said, Joel took a step back, lifted his hand to his ear, snapped his fingers. The sound was there, but it was muffled, like there was cotton in his ear.

Most of the scar is hidden by his hair, and he touches his middle finger to the bit along his temple, the line slightly jagged, imperfect.

You’ll come home, and he’ll apologize. Part of him wonders if he should hide the whiskey, stash the pills somewhere you won’t find them. He’s worried. He’s always worried.

And the ring, the one he found that day in the jewelry store, still sits heavily in his pocket, a weight that follows him around.

He loves you, so much sometimes it’s like he can’t breathe. The world you’ve found yourself in, it’s not fair, none of it. 

If he had his way, he’d still be in Austin, with you and him and Sarah all together in that house. You never would have left for Boston, would have stayed instead. He would have asked you to move in at the end of the summer, asked you to marry him by Christmas. He would have done things properly, would have asked your dad for permission first, asked Anna for input on what ring to give you. He would have talked it over with Sarah, made sure she was okay with it.

He would have married you a long time ago.

The clock ticks closer and closer to curfew, you still haven’t come home, and Joel only worries more. Finally, he gets up, pulls his coat on, locks the door behind him. He checks all your usual places; the food bank, the pharmacy, the warehouse that used to be the donation hall. He sees McCoy out on patrol, but the soldier hasn’t seen you either.

It’s not until he’s circling back to the apartment that he runs into Tess. “I saw her heading up the stairs to Deanna’s floor on my way out a few hours ago,” she tells him, crossing her arms over her chest. “What happened?”

Joel gives her the short version, and by the end of it, Tess shakes her head, shoves at his shoulder.

“You’re a dick, Joel.”

“I know.”

“Go apologize.”

The door’s locked when he gets up to Deanna’s. He can see light from under the door, shadows like you’re moving around. He wonders if you’re standing on the other side, waiting for him to say something. Hastily, he runs back down to your apartment, finds a piece of paper and writes a message across it. Then he goes back out, stops in front of the door, bends down and slides the note through the gap.

+

You can hear him on the other side of the door, the shift of his boots across the floor. You hear the rustle of paper beneath the door from where you’re standing, Emily’s picture clutched in your hands. Still a tear-stained mess, you walk towards the door slowly.

The paper is face up, Joel’s handwriting scrawled across the page.

Please come home.

It’s a few hours still before you find the courage. Joel’s note and Emily’s picture held to your chest, you leave Deanna’s, you boots echoing with every step down to your floor. The door is unlocked, and when you push it open, your heart leaps in your chest.

Joel’s standing at the stove. It smells like spaghetti sauce, and there are two plates set at the table, your place and his. As the door swings shut, he turns to look at you, and you nearly burst into tears all over again. You put the papers on the counter, step towards him, right into his arms when he holds them out to you. You bury your face in his chest, sling your arms around his waist.

“I was a jackass,” he says into your hair, “m’sorry.”

“I don’t wanna fight you anymore,” you reply, resting your hand at the small of his back. “There’s enough shit out there out to get us, Joel, please. I’m sorry, too.” You squeeze him slightly. “What you went through with Sarah, I…” You bite your lip, shaking your head, and Joel pulls back slightly, one hand lifting into your hair, angling your face so he can look at you. “I know losing Em and Henry isn’t the same, but…”

“No, baby,” he murmurs, turning off the hot burners before taking your face in his hands. “I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have said that. You love them, and I’m sorry they’re gone, and you…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Anna sooner, and I’m sorry I’ve done nothing but fuck everything up with us since I got here.”

“You didn’t fuck everything up,” you tell him, and you both crack smiles, Joel rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks. “The world’s fucked up. We’re fucked up.”

“Still love you though,” he jokes, and you pinch his hip, making him yelp. 

“Still love you too, even when you’re a jackass.”

He kisses you then, his mouth warm against yours. You fall into it, letting everything else melt away until it’s just you and him, the world outside forgotten for the moment. You let yourself push away everything that’s happened, losing yourself in Joel as he claims your mouth, his tongue laced with whiskey when it pushes past your teeth.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” he mumbles against your lips, the words broken up by your insistent mouth. He walks you back until your ass hits the kitchen table, and you slide on top of it, wrapping around him when he lifts your legs around his hips, your arms around his neck. He drops his head onto your shoulder and you turn yours, your lips glancing across the scar at his temple.

“Dinner can wait,” you reply, pushing yourself against him. You can feel how hard he is, bulging against his jeans, and a shudder wracks through him when you close your teeth around his earlobe, cheat your hand between your bodies to palm him through the denim.

He scoops you up a moment later, one of the chairs toppling to the floor as he makes for the bed, laying you out on top of the blankets. His movements are frantic, Joel yanking your boots from your feet, your jeans down your legs. You reach for his belt with the same fervour, the metal clanging against the floor when you toss it away. He pushes his jeans down just enough to free himself, and then he’s leaning over you, your legs wide either side of him, your back arching until your chest is pressed to his.

There’s no preamble to it, not that you need it. It’s been a while, since you had him like this. Since that night, since that awful tension had formed between you, you’d barely reached for each other, too wrapped up in your own heads, too broken from what had happened.

And when he pushes into you, you nearly cry with relief. You toss your head back against the blankets, arms curling under his shoulders. His own cage around your head, mouth seeking yours as he rolls his hips against yours. You’re nearly blind with the pleasure, nails scrabbling at his back, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

“Fucking christ, Joel.”

“Whaddaya need, baby?”

“Harder, please. Fuck me harder.”

He listens. Joel pulls his hips back, until just the tip of him is nestled inside you, before slamming back in with such force that the air is punched from your lungs. You moan loudly, pushing your face into his neck. He doesn’t let up, giving you that same intense thrust again and again until the bed is creaking beneath you, the mattress shaking with the movement. The pace grows faster, the tip of his cock dragging along that devastating spot inside you until you’re cumming, tangling one hand in his hair as you press your cheek to his, your mouth dropped open as your thighs twitch against his ribs, pure fucking ecstasy rumbling through your veins.

“You got another one for me, baby?” he growls in your ear, and you don’t have words, just a frantic nod as the pleasure ebbs only to ramp up once more when he starts up again, having slowed only slightly to let you ride out your orgasm. The bed creaks louder, wobbling, but you both ignore it, your ankles locked together against the small of Joel’s back as he drives into you again and again.

You pull his hair as you cum a second time, everything inside you going tighter than sin as the second one barrels through you. He growls in your ear, gritting out praise that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You can feel his body start to tense, his mouth dragged across yours, hot breath spilling past your lips as his eyes screw shut, hips stuttering as he spills inside you. You’ll never get over that warmth.

Joel kisses you, both of you spent, and just as he settles some of his weight on you, there’s a loud crack and the bed frame gives out, snapping in the middle, both of you thudding to the floor, padded by the mattress. Joel curses under his breath, and you just start laughing.

“Y’alright, baby?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

You lie there for hours, sprawled atop the broken bed. You only move when the position makes your hips ache, and even then, you’re still holding onto each other. And you just…talk. You’ve done this before — the night he admitted he couldn’t stay away from you — but there are new stories, things you haven’t told each other, things you were too ashamed to share, gaps in your timelines filled in. You both ask the other questions, pry as much as you dare, but you’re both laid completely bare to each other by the end of it — your pasts, your sins, your regrets, it’s all right there in the open.

And after, when hunger has gotten the best of you both, you disentangle slowly, sliding towards the edge of the now much lower mattress. You’re pulling your boots back on, Joel stood in front of you, when he slowly sinks back down, onto his knees, fitting himself between your legs.

“There’s one more thing I gotta ask you, Liv,” he says, and your brow furrows as he reaches into the pocket of his jeans.

The ring is simple, rose gold etched with flowers, glinting in the streetlight coming in through the window. Your whole body stalls, breath hitching in your throat as he holds it up, pinched between his index finger and his thumb.

“Will you marry me?”

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(tumblr has been eating the last few paragraphs of my posts lately

idk why

i’m doing this to hopefully avoid that

read on ao3 if you can just in case!)