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girlgenius1111 · 1 year ago

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all of my past i tried to erase it

part 3 of family line tensions are still high between Ingrid and her sister. Mapi tries to keep the peace. Solstråle tries to pretend she's fine. Ingrid tries to pretend she isn't going insane not understanding what is going on. cw: mentions of poor mental health / panic attacks. ingrid is pretty worried about solstråle and whether or not she is safe.

-------

It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. Mapi bringing her parents to the match shouldn’t have gotten to you the way it did. You didn’t really have an explanation for it, either. You saw Ingrid talking to Mapi’s mom and it felt like everything that had gotten marginally better in the last few days had miraculously disappeared.

You were 8 again, sitting in the office at school, fielding pitying looks from the office ladies. Both of your parents were busy watching one of Ingrid’s matches; at just 16, she was playing for Rosenborg. Your mom was supposed to bring you to watch, too. She’d forgotten.

You were 10 again, lying to the school nurse that your parents hadn’t known you’d hurt your hand. She said it looked broken, and you pretended that you hadn’t asked your mom to take you to the doctor the night before. You pretended your mom hadn’t told you to stop faking injuries when the attention wasn’t on you for one minute.

You were 13 again, sobbing into your pillow, while everyone celebrated just down the hall. Ingrid was leaving to play in Lillestrøm. 5 hours away. She was leaving you behind.

You were 16, having just been dumped by your first girlfriend. You’d come home in tears, and when you told your dad what was wrong, he told you it was for the best, that a girlfriend was just a distraction. He warned you not to bother your sister with this, because she was busy with much more important things in Barcelona.

You were 17, so drunk you could barely speak, walking home on a dark road in the middle of the night because neither of your parents had answered the phone to come and get you from the horrific party you already regretted attending. It was dark, a windy road you were walking along, and if a car came, you weren’t sure your reflexes would be quick enough. You were 17, stumbling over the smooth pavement, the depression you’d been trying to drown in alcohol making a reappearance. You were 17, thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it all ended there, just like this.

You were 17, standing in the airport with your parents, preparing to board the plane to Spain. You leaned in towards your mother for a hug. She avoided it, pinching your cheek lightly, and reminding your father that they had a dinner reservation to get to. You watched them walk out of the airport from your place in the security line. Your vision was blurred with tears, but you still could tell that they didn’t look back at you once. You were 17, and your mom hadn’t told you she loved you before you moved across the continent.

In a second, all of these memories that you’d fought so hard to keep locked away deep inside your head were flooding out. Tears were pricking your eyes, and you cursed yourself for being so stupid. Ingrid didn’t care. Mapi didn’t care. You weren’t worth caring about. How had you forgotten that? How had you let yourself forget that, after everything?

Ingrid didn’t see your expression change, too busy thanking Mapi’s parents profusely for coming to see her play. Mapi did, though. She watched as you caught sight of your sister talking to her mom, and she watched as you flinched like someone had swung at you. She watched as you slipped out of the crowd, speed walking into the building. Mapi was torn in 2 directions, Ingrid on one side, and you running off the other way. You needed Ingrid, most definitely but Mapi didn’t like the look on your face as you ran off, like all of the emotion had been sucked out of you, and all that was left was exhaustion.

Someone else had noticed your disappearing act, though. Caro stood, staring after you, before her gaze fell to Mapi, raising an eyebrow. The defender nodded, and Caro followed after you, while Mapi turned to her girlfriend. She pulled her away from her parents with an apologetic smile, appreciating that Alexia walked over and picked up the conversation where it had left off.

“Ingrid, vamos,” Mapi whispered urgently. Ingrid looked at her, confused and unmoving.

“What? I was in the middle of a conversation, María,” the Norwegian scolded.

“I know, it’s your Solstråle, though, she’s upset, come on,” Mapi insisted, pulling on Ingrid’s hand, who finally seemed to feel a sense of urgency, and let Mapi lead her into the building.

“Upset? Why? Did something happen?”

“She saw you with my mom and just looked really upset.” Mapi explained. A bit of understanding washed over Ingrid’s face, and now she was the one leading her girlfriend, rushing down the hall and beginning to open door after door in search of you.

Caro, meanwhile, had found you pretty easily. You were on the floor of a room she often came to when she was overwhelmed, although that happened much less these days. You knew Caro, obviously, and she knew you, had known you since you were pretty young. She had a calming presence, and the minute she sat next to you, and extended her hand in your direction, you took it gratefully.

“Mapi is bringing Ingrid.” She told you, but didn’t say anything else. She just sat next to your trembling form and held your hand. It was enough for now, enough until your sister arrived.

And when Ingrid did arrive, it was with a loud bang as she threw the door open, sighing in relief at the sight of you. Though, that relief quickly dissolved back into worry at the state you were in. She quickly took Caro’s place at your side, hesitantly wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your sister was surprised when you turned and threw your arms around her neck, crying silently into her shirt.

“Jeg har deg, kjære. Det er greit, du er ok.” She murmured, looking worriedly at the other two women hovering in the doorway of the room. Mapi nodded at her encouragingly, and Ingrid refocused, rubbing a hand slowly up and down your back.

“Thank you,” Mapi muttered to Caro, as they both stepped into the hall to give you some space.

“Of course.” Caro said easily. “She having a hard time?”

“Which one?” Mapi asked wryly. “Yes. It’s… it’s a work in progress.”

“She’s a good kid.” Caro noted, Mapi nodding her head in agreement. “Well, Marta and I are around if either of you need anything.”

“Thank you, Caro. Really.” Mapi said, squeezing the forward’s shoulder. Caro just shrugged like it was no big deal, and headed back out to the pitch. When Mapi reentered the room, you were tucked perfectly into Ingrid’s lap, although you seemed to have calmed down some. Ingrid was speaking to you in hushed Norwegian, and something she said had you lurching away from her and to your feet, stumbling blindly to the door.

“Solstråle, wait,” Ingrid called, not really sure what she said to upset you, but well aware that it had been something. You fell right into Mapi’s arms, and though she looked a little startled, she easily pulled you close.

“Okay, it’s alright. We’re all okay.” She murmured, noticing the rather heartbroken expression on her girlfriend’s face at the fact that you had fled from her right into Mapi’s arms. After a few minutes, you said something quietly that neither girl could hear. “What was that, nena?”

“Can we go ho- back to the house?” You asked, correcting yourself quickly, and pulling away from the comforting embrace Mapi had you in. Ingrid felt like you’d stabbed her, honestly, when you didn’t let yourself call it home. You were stoic again, though, your face void of emotion, wiping roughly at your cheeks to rid them of tears.

“Kjære,” Ingrid said, hating the way you forced all evidence of your breakdown away. You’d been so upset, about something, but now you were acting as though nothing had happened. Your sister would have climbed into your brain if she could’ve, just to understand what was going on in there.

“Let’s go home.” Mapi said easily, shooting her girlfriend a meaningful look. Ingrid wasn’t supposed to push you, she knew that. It was just getting harder and harder to not do so, especially when she could see how much pain you were in. She couldn't understand why you wouldn’t just talk to her, and you couldn’t understand why she was so concerned or why she was so desperate to hear what you were feeling. And considering it was the two of you, the situation was bound to blow up into an argument. It was just a matter of time.

-------

Ingrid knew what was coming before her phone rang, but she still desperately wanted to avoid it. She was quite comfortable at the moment, curled up on top of Mapi in their bed, a show playing softly in the background. Mapi was scratching lightly at Ingrid’s scalp with one hand, and tracing lines over her back with the other. The movements made Ingrid’s entire body relax, which had definitely been Mapi’s goal, but it was all interrupted when her phone went off from next to her.

She sat up off her girlfriend, glancing at the screen, her expression hardening.

“Your mom?” Mapi guessed, pulling Ingrid back down into her when the Norwegian declined the call.

“Yes.”

“You haven’t talked to her since Solstråle’s letter, have you?”

“No.” Ingrid said. “I think I hate her right now.”

Mapi was surprised, only because Ingrid didn’t hate anyone. If there was going to be a person, though, it would be someone who had hurt you. Because Ingrid didn’t like to kill spiders she found in the house, but Mapi knew she would kill a person for you without a second thought. “That’s okay. You can hate her.”

“I miss her.” Ingrid admitted after another minute, her voice cracking. Her forehead was scrunched with sadness, and her hands gripped Mapi’s shirt tight in her hands.

Mapi sighed, wishing she could take Ingrid’s pain away. And yours too, for that matter. “You can miss her too. You can feel whatever you need to feel.”

“No, I can’t, not when Solstråle is so upset,”

“How your sister feels does not limit how you feel. You can be hurt, and sad, and frustrated too. It doesn’t take away from pequeña’s feelings. Just like her feelings don’t take away from yours. You are both upset. That’s alright.” Mapi said confidently. “This isn’t just happening to your sister. It’s happening to you, too, and you can be sad, mi amor. You can cry.”

Ingrid hadn’t even known she’d been about to cry until Mapi said that, but suddenly there were tears running down her face, and she was clutching tightly to the Spaniard underneath her, who did not seem surprised at all at the sudden emotion.

“I know, baby.” Mapi husked, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of Ingrid’s head. She knew Ingrid needed this, and was content to let her cry it out until she heard a sharp breath from the doorway. You were standing just outside the room, frozen and horrified.

“I’m sorry, Ing,” you mumbled, having come in to say goodnight, rather stunned to see your sister so distraught.

Ingrid could only cry harder, now furious with herself for letting you see this, but too upset to do anything but squeeze Mapi’s hand, wordlessly begging for her to do something.

“Ven aqui, nena, it’s alright.” Mapi said, gesturing you over to the bed. You looked skeptical, but you did so anyway, carefully sitting on the bed next to your sister.

“I’m really sorry, Ingrid, I don’t mean to stress you out.” You whispered. You were in a guilty mood, it seemed, not an angry one, and Ingrid felt that somehow, she preferred when you were angry to this.

“Don’t apologize, pequeña. You haven’t done anything wrong. Ingrid is upset, and you’re upset. It’s okay to be upset, and it’s okay to cry.” Sometimes, Mapi felt like she was teaching preschoolers how to identify and express their emotions when she talked to the both of you, though that might be an easier task.

“I’m not upset with you, Solstråle, I am upset with mom, and I am upset with myself. You don’t need to say sorry. Not for having a panic attack, for having a hard time, for any of it.” Ingrid managed then, taking your hand in hers.

“I’m doing my best.” You said. “I know I’m not making it easy, but I promise I’m trying.”

“We know you are. You’re doing so well, nena.” Mapi said enthusiastically, with so much excitement at you saying something remotely positive about yourself that you and Ingrid both cracked smiles.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ingrid asked after a minute. At that, you withdrew, pulling your hand from Ingrid’s and rising from the bed. Both your sister and her girlfriend repressed sighs at your sudden withdrawal.

“No, I’m really tired. I came to say goodnight. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” You rushed out, before bolting out of the room at a speed that could barely be considered a walk.

Ingrid sighed once you were out of earshot, settling back into Mapi. “She’s so difficult.”

“She’s stubborn. Like her sister. She’ll come around, just give her time.” Mapi assured her.

Giving you time, though, was a lot harder than it seemed.

-------

Your whole life, you had been encouraged by your parents to be smaller, to take up less space. If you were upset, you should keep it to yourself. If you were angry, you should calm down. You were taught that your needs always came second to everyone else’s. You didn’t like to be vulnerable with people, and you didn’t like to put your emotions on others.

So when you woke up the next day, it was the feeling of intense shame swirling around inside of you. You’d ruined what was an impressive win for your sister, and a nice moment with Mapi’s parents. You’d upset Ingrid, so much so that she had cried about it.

Too much. You were being too much.

You resolved yourself to be happy today. If not happy, content. Mapi and Ingrid probably needed a day off from your ridiculous, all over the place, emotions. So today, you wouldn’t feel. You’d be perfect, you’d be small, and you’d cause as little trouble as possible.

What you didn’t expect, though, was for that to be the opposite of what Mapi and Ingrid wanted from you. They didn’t care if you took up space. They just wanted you to talk. More than anything, they just wanted you to be okay, no matter how inconvenient that process was for them.

It was a day off for both girls, due to the match the day before, and they were able to let you sleep in. Ingrid was worried you were sleeping too much, but Mapi assured her that angsty teens always needed a lot of sleep, and depressed teens going through a rough time needed even more sleep. Pair that with the intense panic attack you’d had the day before, you were bound to be exhausted.

When noon rolled around, though, and you’d yet to make an appearance, Mapi relented, much to Ingrid’s relief, who had half a mind to check you for a pulse. Mapi made a coffee to bring up to you, opening your door quietly to find you out cold under the covers.

With Snø clutched tightly in your arms, your nose pressed against the soft polar bear, you looked so young.

“Pequeña, despierta,” Mapi murmured, sitting on the edge of your bed and pulling the covers away from your face a bit.

You blinked up at her groggily, an adorably sleepy expression on your face, and Mapi couldn’t help but push some hair out of your face and smile down at you. You looked slightly suspicious, as you couldn’t remember being woken up like this in the entire time living in Spain, but Mapi just handed you your coffee, and settled on the edge of your bed.

“Morning,” you said after a minute and a rather large sip of coffee.

“Afternoon.” Mapi corrected, a little confused when your face turned red at the comment. “It’s 12:15.”

“That’s weird. Normally Ingrid comes to make sure I’m breathing if I sleep past 10.” You noted.

Mapi chuckled. “We’re working on some of your sister’s annoying habits.”

“Don’t get rid of too many, or there won’t be anything left.” You said, your lips tugging up into a smirk.

“Okay! I will just go through this chocolate croissant I made for you in the garbage!” Ingrid scoffed from the doorway, turning on her heel and marching back down the stairs.

If there was any surefire way to get you out of bed, it was to present you with a breakfast pastry.

Within 90 seconds, you had kicked Mapi out, thrown some clothes on and bounded down the stairs, in search of the promised croissant. It was sitting on a plate at the counter, waiting for you, next to your sister who was glaring at you slightly.

“Thank you, Ing,” you said sweetly, throwing her a charming smile. She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless.

You hit Mapi’s hand playfully when she reached for your croissant, and she withdrew it with a laugh. “You’re like breakfast pastries the way Ingrid is about coffee.”

“Reasonable? Reasonably attached to it? Is that what you mean, María?” Ingrid asked with a frown.

“Of course, mi amor.” Mapi said with a smile, kissing Ingrid’s cheek softly. You averted your eyes, but you couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t make you happy to see your sister loved so well.

The morning, or afternoon, was going exactly as you’d hoped. No attempts at conversation. No feelings. Of course, it couldn’t last. Once you’d finished eating, Ingrid perked up and seemed to prepare herself for what she was about to say, which instantly made you weary.

“We should talk about last night, kjære.” Ingrid said calmly.

You froze, slowly putting your mug back on the counter. Both other girls watched the way your whole body tense, the way every ounce of emotion was wiped off your face.

“I’m fine. There’s nothing to talk about.” You said stiffly.

“That is not true. Something upset you, and we should discuss it.” Ingrid argued.

“Ingrid, it’s fine. Just leave it. We don’t need to talk about that. We don’t need to talk about anything.” You replied defensively.

“It’s not fine!” Ingrid said, raising her voice, and shaking off Mapi’s gestures to calm down. “None of this is fine. We need to talk about last night. We need to talk about the letter you wrote. We need to get you in therapy. These are all things that need to happen, solstråle. We’ve given you time, now we need to do this.”

“I am not going to therapy.” You declared, standing up with a scoff and crossing your arms across your chest. “Ingrid, I am fine. I don’t need to talk and I don’t need help.”

Ingrid grew visibly more angry with you at that, throwing her arms up in the air in frustration.

“Amor, take a breath.” Mapi said quietly, sighing to herself when Ingrid did not do so.

“You don’t need help? That is the most untrue thing I have ever heard. You do not write the things that you wrote and then turn around and say you’re fine. You. Need. Help.”

“Ingrid. I am not going to therapy, and I am done talking about this.” You said, your voice dangerously quiet.

Your sister wasn’t phased, stepping closer to you with her eyes narrowed. “You will go to therapy if I say you will, and this conversation is not over until I say it is.”

In retrospect, even Ingrid realized that this was decidedly the wrong thing to say. You didn’t take well to being told what to do. Your reaction really should have been worse; Ingrid had gotten off easy.

“Jesus, Ingrid, do you hear yourself? You sound just like mom.” You spit back, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the hurt that flashed across your sister’s face. “I don’t want to talk about this, especially not with you.” You spun around and began stomping towards the stairs. “Don’t fucking follow me.” You warned over your shoulder, causing Ingrid’s jaw to drop.

“Do not-” Ingrid began, starting after you.

“Amor, leave her.” Mapi said, intervening before Ingrid got very far, and pulling her back.

“She is the most frustrating person on the planet.” Ingrid huffed, slamming a hand down onto the counter. Mapi looked unimpressed.

“She is probably thinking the same thing about you right now. I told you not to push her.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Could you be on my side here for once?” She asked bitingly.

Mapi very calmly shook her head, opening her mouth to explain when Ingrid’s eyebrows flew up on her forehead. “No. I am on your sister’s side, and you should be too. No one has been for a really long time.”

The Norwegian deflated at that, sinking down into one of the stools at the counter. Mapi continued speaking, pulling Ingrid’s hair gently out of the bun it was in, and running her fingers through it. “You’re looking at this wrong, mi amor. She doesn’t need you to talk her into therapy. She’ll get there on her own, you just need to give her time. That girl has a long way to go before she admits she needs help, believe me.”

Ingrid sighed deeply. “Can you go check on her? She’s mad at me, I just need you to make sure she’s okay and she isn’t going to do anything stupid.”

“Of course.” Mapi said, delicately kissing Ingrid’s lips. “I love you.” She reminded the Norwegian with a soft, almost shy smile.

Ingrid wanted to cry at how sweet, how perfect, how helpful and kind and funny and beautiful her girlfriend was. “I love you, so so much.”

Mapi headed for the stairs, and Ingrid made yet another cup of coffee, a coffee she wouldn’t drink.

Because Mapi came running back down the stairs a minute later, an apprehensive look on her face as she approached her girlfriend.

“Mi amor, she isn’t up there.” She said carefully.

“What do you mean she isn’t up there,” Ingrid asked, rising to her feet and feeling panic rise within her.

Mapi just shook her head, putting her hands on Ingrid’s shoulders. “She isn’t up there. Her window is open, I think she snuck out.”

Ingrid felt like something inside of her was collapsing, leaving behind a chasm that was quickly filling with anxiety. “Where… what? She… she’s gone? She…we have to-”

What had you left to do? Only horrible, life shattering options of where you were and what you were doing were flying through Ingrid’s head, and she reached out, latching on to Mapi’s outstretched hands.

“Amor, breathe. Calm down. We’ll find her. Where would she go?”

Mapi hoped, with everything in her, that Ingrid had an answer. Because she had to be calm right now, for Ingrid, but Barcelona was a big city. And if you didn’t want to be found… Mapi didn’t know what would happen.

Ingrid’s mind was racing, but one thought pushed to the front of everything else. “The lake, there’s a lake in Melhus she would always go to when she was upset. She’d go to water, a body of water.”

Mapi nodded. “Okay, there are 2 beaches in walking distance, in opposite directions. We’ll go to one, and we’ll send Frido to the other.”

Privately, Mapi hoped Frido found you first. She wasn’t quite sure that you wouldn’t bolt away from Ingrid, but you wouldn’t be expecting Frido to pop up.

-------

A quick call to Frido later, Mapi was directing one very frazzled Norwegian into the car, and setting off for the beach. Ingrid was deep in thought, and Mapi kept her hand on her girlfriend’s leg, softly and soothingly rubbing her thumb back and forth. It was only a few minutes to the beach, and Mapi knew Ingrid would talk before they arrived.

“Do you think she’d do something stupid?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her hand covering Mapi’s and gripping tightly. The Spaniard didn’t need her to explain what she meant; she knew this question was coming, really.

“She said she wouldn’t.” Mapi said calmly.

“She said she wouldn’t ‘do that to me,’ that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t do it, especially now that she’s mad at me.”

“This is a little fight. She wouldn’t… do that. Not over this.” Mapi reassured her, but Ingrid remained unconvinced.

“I don’t know what she’s thinking, María, maybe she was lying before.”

“Ingrid, mi amor, calm down. You have to trust her. Even when you’re scared, and even when it feels like you should take her bedroom door off the hinges and implant her with a GPS chip. You have to trust her not to hurt herself.”

“But what if she does?” Ingrid asked softly, as if saying the words loud enough would somehow will it into existence.

“We can’t think like that. Promise me you won’t think like that, okay?”

“Okay.” Ingrid agreed faintly. Both of them knew she was lying. It was all she’d been worrying about for days, and all she would worry about for many to come.

--------

Frido found you first. When she drove by the beach and didn't see you there, she got another idea. There was a rock climbing place nearby; Ingrid had said you always used to go to a lake back home when you were upset. Though Frido didn’t want to say so, it had been a long time since Ingrid had lived with you, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if your habits had changed. And the Swede knew from your instagram that you spent a lot of time rock climbing. She told Mapi where she was headed, and sped over to the gym.

Sure enough, as soon as she walked in the building, she spotted you in the middle of the hardest wall, seemingly only using the smallest holds to get yourself up. You were breathing hard, and the worker belaying you looked a bit concerned.

Frido pulled her phone out, shooting off a quick text to Mapi. “She’s here, she’s okay. Let me talk to her, don’t let Ingrid come in. I’ll bring her out.”

Ingrid probably wouldn’t help the situation, if you were as angry as you seemed. The blonde spoke quickly to the front desk attendant, and headed over to where you were.

She stood, just watching you. You were a few feet from the top now, luckily for your hands, which you clearly had not put enough chalk on, and were beginning to really hurt. With only a bit to go, you took a risk, attempting an impressive, one armed pull to get your other hand to the next hold. You just barely missed, falling away from the wall.

“Fuck,” you cursed, swinging back towards the wall and smacking it with your hand. You were lowered down, clearly fuming, and Frido took the opportunity to step in front of you, giving the girl attached to the other end of the rope a look.

“Again,” you requested, avoiding Frido’s gaze.

She took your hand in hers, though, inspecting the tear in your skin, shaking her head. “No, that’s enough Solstråle.”

“Leave me alone, Frido.” You snapped, trying to pull away from her when you felt the rope fall slack. You turned, seeing that the worker had abandoned her harness in favor of going to help someone else, no doubt at Frido’s direction.

You rolled your eyes, quickly regretting it when the Swede raised an eyebrow at you. Ingrid could be scary sometimes, but she had nothing on Frido.

“Are they here?” You asked, loosening the harness and stepping out of it with an exasperated sigh.

“They’re outside. You terrified your sister.” Frido said, pulling you over to a bench and making you sit down, before handing you a bottle of water.

You looked unimpressed. “I’m 18, I can handle myself in the city for an hour.”

“She wasn’t worried about that, she was worried you were going to hurt yourself.” Frido said bluntly, sitting down next to you. She ignored how stiff you’d grown and how uncomfortable you seemed, reaching for your hand and looking at it critically.

“That wasn’t on purpose.” You said defensively, wrenching your hand away once again. “And I told her I wouldn’t do that.”

“Can you blame her for worrying, Solstråle, really? And maybe you didn’t do that on purpose, but you came here to push yourself instead of dealing with your feelings in a healthy way.”

You really hated that she was right. Frido was always right. It was simultaneously her worst and best trait.

“Are they mad?” You asked in a small voice, suddenly looking very much your age. Frido stood and held out a hand to help you up.

“Not right now. Just worried. Ingrid’s going to give you a hug and you’re going to let her.” Frido instructed. You supposed that was fair. And really, you could use a hug. Hugs from your sister always made you feel better, even if you’d never admit it.

As you exited the building, you instantly spotted your sister and her girlfriend by their car. Mapi was leaning calmly against the Cupra, while Ingrid was pacing frantically, speaking fast and gesturing wildly with her hands.

“Did I do that?” You asked quietly.

Frido laughed. “I think she was born like that.”

As you neared the car, Ingrid turned as Mapi pointed at you, her face melting with relief at the sight of you. It really hit you, then, how worried she must have been, to still be so anxious even after Frido had likely told her you were okay. You weren’t making this easy on your sister.

She practically knocked you over with the force of her hug. “You’re okay.” She murmured into the top of your head, leaving a kiss there.

“I’m okay.” You reiterated, letting yourself hug her back tightly, even if it was just for a moment. She felt you tighten your arms around her almost unconsciously, and made a note to hug you more often. Even if it seemed like you weren’t very interested. After a minute she pulled back, placing both hands on your cheeks and making you look at her.

“Next time leave through the front door? And tell me where you’re going? Please?” She asked. You appreciated that she didn’t tell you to do this, leaving it more as a request, although you knew it was a reasonable rule for her to put in place.

“Promise.” You said quietly. She nodded her head, satisfied, before pulling Frido into a hug that also looked to be too tight. Mapi was looking at you, rather unimpressed. You knew she was not happy with you for upsetting your sister so much, and though it annoyed you a bit, you knew it was deserved. And you appreciated that your sister had someone that was so protective over her.

“In the car, nena. I want to talk to you when we get home.” Mapi instructed. You got in the car with no argument, the fight having gone out of you a bit. It had nothing to do with the hug Ingrid had given you, nothing at all. Definitely not. Instead of anger, you only felt apprehension, because Mapi looked dead serious about whatever she wanted to talk about.

-------

You were nothing short of shocked when Mapi opened the door to the garage and gestured you inside upon arriving home. Ingrid watched on anxiously, and you pretended not to see the way Mapi whispered some reassurance to her and kissed her cheek, before pointing her towards the kitchen

You’d never been in the garage before; it was Mapi’s space. You were already invading her home, you wouldn’t invade the one place of the house that was really hers, too. You knew she worked something out there, knew there was a reason both cars parked in the driveway instead of in the garage.

Mapi followed you into the room and sat down on a stool next to the large motorcycle in the middle of the garage. It was clearly in the process of being restored. You hadn’t known Mapi rode motorcycles. Well, you hadn’t known that your sister let Mapi ride a motorcycle. You stood awkwardly in the door as Mapi inspected 2 different wrenches, until she pointed at the stool next to her.

“Ven aqui, nena.” She said.

You took a seat, not really enjoying the tense silence that washed over the room. “Are you mad at me?” You asked after a minute. For all your anger, and all your bravado, you didn’t like it when people were mad at you. Especially not people you looked up to, people you admired.

“No. Not mad, nena. Never mad. I wish you hadn’t snuck out your window, but I understand why you did. I wish sometimes you thought a bit more about how your actions affect me and your sister, but I know how hard that is to do when you’re as angry as you are.”

“I’m not angry.” You said defensively. Mapi rolled her eyes, handing you a couple of tools and beginning to tighten something on the bike.

“You are angry. You’re so angry that you feel like you’re going to explode sometimes. You’re so angry that sometimes you forget that you’re sad, too. You’re angry, and you’re hurt, and I cannot blame you for that. If anyone has a right to those emotions, it’s you.” You didn’t really enjoy being perceived so well, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “I know angry, nena. Do you remember when I hurt my knee?”

You nodded. The first few weeks of Mapi's injury hadn’t been a fun time, your sister beyond stressed with dealing with Mapi’s injury and her new role in the team, and you’d tried hard to be on your best behavior.

“I started working on this bike a year ago, when everything happened with the Spanish federation. It was Ingrid’s idea, a way for me to distract myself. When I hurt my knee, it had been a bit since I’d worked on it, but suddenly I was back in this garage until all hours of the night. It’s nice to be able to control something like this, when everything else feels out of your control. That is how climbing is for you, yes?”

You relaxed a bit at the turn the conversation was taking, and Mapi wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t just the topic; it was the fact that she wasn’t staring at you, putting pressure on you to give her an answer she wanted to hear. You were just talking. Casually.

“Yeah. I’m in control, and I don’t have to think about anything else. It’s relaxing.”

“It’s good for you to have an outlet like that.” Mapi stated. “This bike was Ingrid’s idea, when we first got together. Do you know what her other idea was?”

You were pretty sure you did, and you grimaced at the thought. “Therapy?”

Mapi snorted, handing you the wrench she was using and taking the screwdriver from your hand. “Yes therapy. You don’t have to look at it like that, though, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

“It’s not for me.” You said decisively.

Mapi just shrugged. “I didn’t think it was for me either.” She paused, knowing your curiosity would get the better of you, and you’d ask for more information.

“What changed your mind?” You asked after a minute.

“Your sister did. After the euros, I had a hard time coming back to Barça and playing. Those weeks were some of the hardest of my life, trying to find my rhythm again but trying to recover from the stress I’d been under that summer. I was a mess. And Ingrid was right there with me, through all of it. I’d had a really bad day, and I asked Ingrid to come home early from a lunch she had. She came home, calmed me down, and afterwards, she asked me if I trusted her. I said I did. And she said that she really wanted me to try therapy. That I didn’t have to feel how I felt, and I deserved help. I deserved to not be miserable. She asked me to try it, for her, just give it a try.”

“And you did.”

“And I did. Because she’d done so much for me, I couldn’t refuse her request. Not when I knew she just wanted the best for me. I gave it a shot, and it helped, more than anything else had helped. It wasn’t a fix all, but it helped. It made me feel like I was doing something to get better.”

Mapi abandoned her work on the bike, looking at you for the first time since you’d entered the garage. You could only see sincerity in her gaze. Not anger, but annoyance. Just sincerity. “You deserve help, Solstråle. No matter how you feel about yourself, Ingrid and I know you. And we know you deserve help. You’re a good person, and you deserve to be happy.”

María sounded so sure. So completely convinced. You looked away from her, blinking hard.

“You don’t have to agree to anything now. Keep an open mind about it. Think about it. Okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed quietly, grateful that Mapi didn’t make a big deal out of it, only nodding slightly.

“One more promise?” She asked.

“What?”

“Talk to us. Or just me, or just Ingrid. We’re a little lost here, nena. It feels like we were just kind of plopped down in the middle of this. We had no idea anything was going on, not really. And all of a sudden we’re reading that letter, and realizing we missed a lot. That’s on us; we should have noticed sooner. We don’t have the whole picture, though, and that makes it really hard for us to figure out how to help you. We’ll both worry a lot less if you talked to us, just a little bit.”

That was reasonable, you had to admit. When she put it like that. You’d spent so much time being annoyed that no one had noticed, then being annoyed when they finally did notice, you hadn’t really spent a ton of time thinking about how little they knew. There was no context to your behavior, aside from what you’d put in the letter. And that just barely scratched the surface. You supposed they deserved an explanation. At least a bit of one.

“I’ll try.” You promised.

Mapi grinned at you this time, an infectious smile. “Bueno! Come here with that wrench. No, that one. Put it on this bolt. Twist.”

And just like that, the conversation was over. Easily. You got the feeling that Mapi would have let it go if you’d insisted on it, but you miraculously felt better. Talking, listening had made you feel better. Mapi had made you feel better.

-------

You both emerged from the garage around an hour and a half later, when the smell of baking cookies became too strong to resist. Ingrid had clearly been stress baking, one of your favorite of her habits. There were at least 3 different types of cookies on the counter, some done baking, some still in progress. It smelled so distinctly of home in the house, it was almost overwhelming.

“I have something for you,” Ingrid said, drying her hands and stepping away from the counter when you walked into the room.

“I can see that.” You said, nodding to the cookies appreciatively, but Ingrid shook her head.

“No, something else.” Ingrid said.

“OH! I do too.” Mapi said excitedly, and they both disappeared in different directions. You stood bewildered in the kitchen, not quite sure what you were about to be given.

They returned simultaneously, each holding what looked to be 2 frames. “Mapi’s first.” Ingrid directed. “I haven’t seen it yet.”

You looked surprisingly at Mapi, taking the present and beginning to unwrap the wrapping paper. “What is this for?” You asked.

“Your birthday.” Ingrid said quietly. You froze momentarily, an unreadable expression flashing across your face. “I know it seems like we forgot, but we didn’t. We got the dates messed up, but we had presents, and we had dinner reservations, just… for the 25th. Not the 15th.”

“Oh. I thought you’d forgotten.” You said slowly, seemingly slightly emotional.

“Nope, just bad at remembering dates. Now open your present.” Mapi said impatiently, bouncing on her feet like an overexcited child.

You unwrapped it slowly, as if you were slightly weary of what it might be. When you pulled the frame from the wrapping paper, though, every wall you’d put up fell instantly, your jaw dropping open at the piece of art in your hands.

It was a map. Not just a map, but a map of all the hiking trails in Barcelona. It was textured, detailed, labeled. It was intricate, all neutrals and earthy colors. It was so you. From the contents to the design, it was like it had been made just for you.

“Mapi…” You whispered, staring, stunned, at the map. “Where did you… how did you… what?”

“Ale’s sister Fresa went to school with this girl that hand makes maps like this. I got her name from diablillo, and I told her what I wanted. Do you like it, do you like it?” Mapi asked excitedly.

Mapi got her answer when you handed the frame to Ingrid, and launched yourself the few feet between you and Mapi, wrapping her in a tight hug. Mapi beamed at Ingrid, who was trying very hard not to cry. She hadn’t even given Mapi any advice on the gift. It had been all her girlfriend’s idea, she executed it all by herself, determined to get Solstråle the perfect gift.

“It’s perfect, thank you María,” you mumbled. The ridiculous smile on Mapi’s lips didn’t falter at the use of her real name, only squeezing you tighter.

“Te amo, Solstråle.” She said back. For once, you believed it. When you pulled away from the hug, it was to see Mapi looking smugly at your sister. “INGRID I DEFINITELY WON.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “She hasn’t even opened my present yet.”

“Still. I won.” Mapi smirked.

Now it was Ingrid’s turn to hand you your gift. It was wrapped in the same paper, and you tore it off, almost cautiously, not quite sure what Ingrid would have gotten you.

You were, once again, speechless at what you saw. This time, your eyes filled with tears immediately. Ingrid wasn’t as excited as Mapi had been, instead looking at you anxiously.

It was a painting of a waterfall back home not far from your house. It was so distinct, you knew Ingrid must have paid a ridiculous amount of money to get someone to hand paint it. Each individual stroke was so precise, blending perfectly into the image it was supposed to be, but if you focused hard, you could pick out the greens and greys and blues and whites that you’d grown up with.

It felt like home. It felt comforting. You could almost smell the trees, feel the cool sting of wind on your cheeks. It was a little piece of home just for you, and it was perfect. So beautiful and artistic that you weren’t sure you were worthy of it, but you looked at it in awe nonetheless. You wiped at your cheeks, not able to control the tidal wave of emotion washing over you.

“Kjære? Is it okay?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her eyes searching your face, trying to figure out if these were good tears or bad tears.

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Okay? Ingrid… it’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s… perfect. Thank you.” You said, turning to her with a look of complete shock. And even though it pained Ingrid that you were so surprised to receive a nice gift for your birthday, she pushed that feeling down. Instead, she pulled you in towards her, placing the frame on the counter so she could hug you properly. You were happy with it, now, and that was all Ingrid had control over.

After a few seconds, Ingrid moved to pull away and break the hug, but you kept your arms wrapped around her, not quite ready to let go yet. Maybe it was the homesickness, or maybe it was your sister making you feel so known, and so loved. Whatever the reason, you just wanted her near you for a minute more, holding you nice and tight and safe against her.

“I love you,” she whispered, hearing you mumble the words back, your voice thick with emotion. When you did pull away, a minute later, it was to wipe at your face in an almost embarrassed manner.

Seeing how desperate you were for the attention to be off your tears, Mapi spoke up, her voice light and easy. “You can put them up in your room, you don’t have anything on the walls.”

You looked at the ground, then, almost sheepishly. “I didn’t know I could put anything up on them.” You admitted.

The room fell quiet, but even though you could tell that what you said had hurt Ingrid and Mapi, they just shook their heads softly. “It’s your room, for good, you can do whatever you want to it.” Ingrid told you.

You were about to thank her, and try to move the conversation long when Mapi let out a dramatic gasp. Both you and Ingrid whipped your heads to look at her, confused at the mischievous grin on her face.

“Ikea. WE CAN GO TO IKEA AND GET FURNITURE FOR SOLSTRÅLE’S ROOM.”

“María, calm down. Maybe she doesn’t want to redo her room.” Ingrid looked at you hopefully, and you knew it had nothing to do with your room, and everything to do with her not wanting to take Mapi to ikea.

You simply smirked back at Ingrid, who sighed and shut her eyes for a minute.

“Okay. Ikea.” She said finally. You and Mapi cheered, comically loudly, completely ignoring the rules she was setting in favor of high fiving each other and going to get ready to leave. “María, you are not building anything. Solstråle does not need her bed to collapse under her in the middle of the night. And kjære, please, please, don’t let Mapi talk you into a loft bed, you’ll fall off of it and break your arm. Amor? Kjære? ARE EITHER OF YOU LISTENING!” Ingrid shouted after you, rolling her eyes at the chants of ikea echoing around the house.

Mapi in Ikea was a handful. You, too, were a handful at the store. Together? She was going to lose one of you, she was sure of it. It had been a long day already. And it was only set to get longer.

--------

fluffy engen-león family trying to put furniture together in the next part?

yes, that IS all i have to say about this chapter thank you for your time.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #platonic reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #sol☀️#🍓☀️

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queenbrucewayne · 1 month ago

Text

Mrs Grayson

A/n: ngl I had an idea of what I wanted in the beginning and then half way through writing this I lost it.

Monday mornings were typically all the same. Maybe a few meetings, a couple of boring emails, and another charity event to be planned for this coming weekend.

Your desk was just outside Bruce Waynes office. Being his PA for a little over a year now, you had developed a sense of familiarity with him. His body language always spoke louder to you then any false persona he tried to put on, and the silent ways you two communicate wether it was from board meetings or even trying to send an SOS to get away from an over talkative coworker.

Today Bruce hadn't made much progress to leave his office. He was on back to back phone calls and meetings. The only times you really got to see him was to bring him more coffee every hour or so.

Even now, you could slightly hear his voice coming from inside, still on the phone with the same company from an hour ago.

The day was almost over and he still had more emails to answer. It was going to be a long night..

Just then, your phone started ringing. Reaching down to open your desk draw to grab it, you became confused to see an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs Grayson, we have your son here."

"Oh, I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong-"

"Mom?!" Suddenly a young voice came through. "Can I talk to her?"

The sound of shuffling could be heard, as you waited even more confused now.

"Uhh.... hello?" The young boy spoke up again.

A sense of recognition hit you. "Mr Grayson? What are you doing? How did you get my number?"

"So... I got into some trouble with school, they want you to come and pick me up, I thought they would want to see you since dads so....busy." His voice flowed so smoothly and his lie went out of his mouth like it was nothing. He was really good...

"Mr Grayson, are you-"

"Yes!." He suddenly cut in. "Okay, that sounds great. My teacher and I will see you soon."

Before you could respond with anything, he quickly hung up, leaving you to sit there. You glanced over to his office door, debating with yourself if you should inform him about his sons odd phone call or not.

Getting up from your desk and walking over to the coffee machine, you poured another cup. Taking it to the office door you slowly cracked it open to peak inside.

He was still sitting at his desk, his hands on top his head that was now messy and ruffled instead of it’s normal gel down look. He looked exhausted.

Walking more inside, it wasn’t until you had set the coffee down in front of him that he looked up to you. Smiling gently, he reached over to mute himself so the person talking on the phone couldn’t hear.

“Thank you Y/n.” Taking the mug, he took a sip, sighing out in relief. “I have a feeling I’ll be here much longer, you should really head home for the day.”

Standing there for a moment, you hesitated to say something about the phone call. “Uhh, are you sure?”

Bruce smiled, his eyes were exhausted but he still tried to make it seem like he wasn’t. “I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You decided then and there that you would take care of whatever his son needed. He clearly wasn’t gonna he leaving anytime soon, and to add on to it that he might have to deal with another stressful matter with his sons school.

Whatever it was, Mr Grayson called you. Which probably meant it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.

“Have a good night sir. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Giving a wave and headed towards the door, you took your leave. Grabbing all your stuff, you headed to the elevator and out of the office.

Once you started driving towards Mr Grayson school, the doubt started coming back. Was this really a good idea?

You had known the boy for as long as you worked for Mr Wayne. He was always so energetic and his sense of humor was always something you looked forward too.

Every so often he would come by the office, and every time he did, he would never fail to come over to your desk and chat.

Arriving at the school was intimidating in itself. The place was almost like a college campus, if not for the signs every where you would’ve probably never have found the main office building.

Walking inside you instantly saw the main office doors. They were still open and that made it easy to spot Mr Grayson sitting at one of the chairs, swaying his feet back and forth.

When you walked in, the front desk lady quickly greeted you with a smile. “Hi, are you Mrs Grayson?”

That definitely caught you off guard even more to hear it in person then over the phone. “Uhh, yes… hi.”

“Mom!” Suddenly Dick had sprung from his chair and wrapped his arms around your waist. “You made it.”

Looking down, you notice that he was surprised to see you. Probably because he didn’t think you would show up….

“Yes… Um, so why am I here?” Placing a hand on his head, you decided to continue this act.

“We wanted to call you in, since this is Richards third time here this week.” The women motion to the open door beside her. “The principle is inside, waiting.”

Nodding your head, you glanced down to look at Bruce’s son. He smiled nervously up at you, this might go horribly wrong.

You both walked inside the office, a older man sat on the other side of the desk and was typing away at his computer. Seeing you both at his door, he quickly got up and presented out his hand.

“Hello! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Mrs Grayson, I’m the principal for the school. I was hoping to bring you in to talk about this past week with Mr Grayson.”

Shaking the man’s hand, you and Dick both had a seat. “Yes, the women out front told me he’s been here multiple times this week.”

He gave a grimace smile. “Yes, unfortunately… we have been getting complaints from a couple teachers about him not getting along with fellow students.”

You looked over to Dick, genuine confusion took over your face. He was such a sweet kid. You would have never thought he would be having trouble getting along with other kids.

Dick rolled his eyes. “Those kids were making fun of someone! I didn’t start it!” He protested.

You didn’t react really to his outburst, but when glancing at the principal who was in shock you instantly corrected yourself.

“Mr - ah… Richard, behave yourself!” You scolded. Which seemed to satisfy the man.

Dick turned to you confused for a moment but then must’ve quickly realized why you scolded him. Instantly, he leaned back down in his seat and folded his hands on top his lap.

“Ah, so, not getting along with the other kids? Well I’m sure this can be fixed instantly. We will have a talk with his father when we get home, but I assure you my… son is not displaying his normal character, but I’m determined to get him back on track.” Wow… Where the hell did that all come from? You barley even stuttered

The man smiled. You all stood up from your chairs and he held his hand out again to shake. “I’m so glad we could bring this to your attention Mrs Grayson.”

“Yes… me too. I’m sure once all the parents are on the same page by the end of this week there won’t be anymore office visits.” You piped up, getting ready to walk out the door, you stopped yourself when you heard Dick scoff.

“Yeah right. I’m the only one they called in.” He mumbled.

Confused, you turned back to the principal. “You haven’t spoken to any of the other kids or parents?”

“Why, no we haven’t. We didn’t find it necessary to bother any of the other children or parents.” He stated, seeming confused by the suggestion.

“Why not? I mean… Richard, he wouldn’t just start something for not good reason, did you even listen to another side of the story?”

The man laughed, he actually laughed! “Mrs Grayson, with all due respect. Your child seems to be the main issue to all these fights that have been happening. There wouldn’t be any need for-“

“Did you ask?” You interrupt

“Excuse me?”

“Did you ask what happened? Or just took one kids word for it?” You asked again.

“I- well- uh.” He stammered a bit, not seeming to think of something quick enough to say.

You looked down to Dick, who was already staring at you surprised. “Tell me what happened.”

He glanced between you and the principal, hesitating for a moment, but then quickly excited. “It’s the same four kids! All of them picking on these two new girls, the ones with scholarships. They heard that the one uniform is the only one they can afford, so they started messing with them and trying to find ways all week to ruin them.”

“Okay, so how did you get involved?” You asked.

“I told them to quit it! And then when they just started to mess with me… I thought it was better then paying attention to them.” He shrugged. “But today, they actually ended up ripping one of the girls skirts and made her cry, so I… I pushed him, and his friends got involved. Now I’m here.”

You looked back to the principal. “Seems like you got the wrong kid in here.” You spat. “Maybe I’m not the only parent who needs a phone call.” Grabbing his hand, you walked out of the office. “Let’s go, we’re leaving.”

“Mrs Grayson! Please wait!” The man shouted from behind.

You spun on your heels to face home again. “I don’t appreciate you putting blame on one kid when you don’t have your facts straight, especially this kid…” Glancing down to Dick you squeezed his hand gently. “Do you think these two girls would back your story up?”

His eyes got big. “Absolutely! They’re really nice! I have no doubt they would explain everything.”

You looked back to the principal. “I think that should be your next step. Then. You can call me back here… have a nice rest of your day.” Pulling Dick towards you, and walking out of the school toward your car.

Once you got to your car you kicked your tire in frustration. “What jerks!” You shouted. “I mean, they didn’t even bother to listen to you! And that man- ugh he was so smug too. Did you see that? How smug he looked?”

Turning towards Dick, he had the biggest smile on his face, seeming amused by your outburst. His odd reaction caused you to stop and think for a moment. Realizing what you just had done.

“Oh no. I totally just played into your lie. Now they think I’m your actual mother… oh what have I done?” You started to panic a bit. Bruce was so gonna fire you.

“It was great!” Dick cheered out. “You were so cool, and they really believed it! How awesome!”

“Not awesome.” You stated. “Your father is so gonna fire me.”

Dick shock his head, walking over he put a hand on your back. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him. It’ll be our secret.”

You scoffed. “After the outburst I just pulled in there… he’s bound to find out.” You started to think for a moment. “How did you get them to believe I was your mother anyway?”

“I told them you didn’t wanna take the Wayne name, and you traveled a lot for work. Seemed to workout pretty well.” He shrugged.

“Common. I gotta take you home, hopefully your dad is still at the office, I don’t know how I am gonna explain this to him.” You sighed out, unlocking the car and walking around to the drivers side.

“Y/n?” Dick called out. He stood there shyly. “Thank you, for defending me. Believing me…”

You smiled softly. “You’re a good kid Mr Grayson. I truly believe that. I know those girls will defend you, and this will get all sorted out.”

“I hope so, or I’m probably going to get grounded again…” He grumbled. Opening the car door, you both got inside and drove off.

Once you arrived at the Wayne manor, you noticed immediately the older gentleman standing outside already at the front door.

“I wonder what Alfred is doing?” Dick spoke up, leaning forward in the front seat trying to get a better look.

Once you stopped, Dick quickly turned back to you. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something as to why you’re dropping me off! I won’t let dad fire you!” He smiled confidently, opening the car door and jumping out, shutting it behind him and running up the front steps to Alfred.

Alfred turned to look at you. So you put a hand up and a smile you hoped didn’t look nervous. He responded with the same and both of them turned around to walk inside. Well that was an eventful day...

The next morning went way more smoothly. All the busyness from yesterday had subsided for the most part and the office space seemed much more at ease and relaxed.

Dropping your stuff on your desk, you took the extra coffee you got on your way into work and cracked open Bruces office door. He was sitting at his desk looking at his computer. He didn't seem as tired as yesterday, but he probably wasn't going to be a burst of energy ether.

Setting down the coffee, he looked up at you and smiled. "Good morning." He greeted.

"Morning, I hope you didn't leave too late yesterday."

He took the coffee and leaned back in his chair. "Around nine, so it could've been worse." Taking a sip from his cup, his eyes looked up towards you. "How was the rest of your evening yesterday? Do anything exciting?"

You froze in place, trying your best to keep a straight face. He didn't say it in an accusing way, it sounded like a genuine question. Perhaps he didn't know...

"Uh, no, no. Nothing crazy, just went home..." You tried to sound casual, but him staring at you didn't help the guilt of lying to him.

Thinking for a moment he was gonna call you out, he just nodded and set his coffee back down. "Well, today should go a lot smoother. Only two meetings and maybe a conference call later."

"Okay then, sounds like plan, I'll make sure the conference room is open for later." Turning around you started to make your way towards the door.

"Oh! I almost forgot. We have a new client coming in at the end of the day, would like you to be here when he arrives." He went back to his computer, continuing what he was doing before.

Confused, you turned back around. "You want me in the office?"

"Yeah, would like you to meet him." He said, not taking his eyes off his screen.

You had never been in his office to meet any new clients. Normally he had those when you were doing your schedule planning to keep you right outside the door so nobody would come inside unannounced. After a few moments of silence he glanced back up to you.

"Is something wrong?" He asked.

That caused you to jump, quickly putting on a fake smile you shook your head. "No, thats fine. I- uh, I'll make sure I'm here."

He looked at you for a moment curiously, then just turned back to his computer. Not saying anything more, you took your leave. Closing the door, you sat yourself down at your desk.

You started to think of any possibly as to why he would want you in there, why he would want you to meet this new client. It seemed suspicious.

The whole day was spent just as planned, with the few meetings and the conference call going as smooth as they could've, it looked like the end of the day was already here.

The elevator doors opened up and you were back to your desk to gather all your things. However, it then occurred to you that the new client was coming, if he wasn't already here.

Walking to Bruces door, you slowly turned the handle and opened just enough to peak inside. Bruce was sitting at his desk filling out some paperwork.

Once he noticed you standing at his door he smiled and set down his pen. "Come on in, have a seat."

Opening the door wider, you made your way to one of his office chairs that was in front of his desk. He smiled at you, then continued writing down on his paper.

You shifted in your seat, your hands were sweating from the nerves he was making you feel. This was certainly awkward.

"Uh, is there something I can do for you?" You finally spoke up.

Not even looking up at you, Bruce just continued writing. "No, he'll be here soon."

"Who will be?" You asked.

Right on cue, there was three knocks coming from the office door. Hearing it creek open from behind, you sat patently as the foot steps got closer.

Bruce smiled up at the visitor, "Nice of you to join us."

Looking up, your eye became wide as you saw none other then Dick Grayson standing beside you. When he looked down to you, his expression quickly changed. He was as shocked to see you as you were to see him.

Busted...

Dick quickly went to protest but Bruce cut him off. "Don't you think you owe an apology to Y/n- oh I'm sorry... I mean't Mrs Grayson." Bruce voice was stern, not anything like you've heard before.

That must have kicked in for Dick, because he instantly faced you, his face filled with guilt. "I'm sorry, Y/n."

"No, no, I should be apologizing, I-"

"Did nothing wrong." Bruce cut in. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "My son, had taken your emotions for him to advantage to save himself. Absolutely unacceptable.”

You stood up abruptly. “I’m the adult!” The sudden raise in voice made Dick jump, he looked nervously between the both of you.

Taking a deep breathe, you slowly sat back down. “Mr Wayne, I made the choice to go to his school, to lie to you, to lie to his teachers and classmates… I should be apologizing to you for overstepping, I had no right to go and do that.” You looked back to Dick smiling sadly. “He’s a great kid… I just-” the thought coming back to you as to why he lied in the first place.

“No it’s not!” Dick suddenly shouted. “I shouldn’t have ever called her, I shouldn’t have put her in a position to lie to you or my principal… I’m sorry, don’t let her take any of the fall.”

Bruce sat there for a moment just looking between the both of you. His expression was stoic and didn’t really tell you much about what he could possibly be thinking.

Just then he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Alright, Dick, your grounded, that is final... No after school activities for a week."

When he said that you saw Dick face suddenly drop, and he seemed to go and argue but must have remembered you were still sitting there. Whatever his after school activities were, he obviously didn’t wanna share with you.

Instead he nodded his head in understanding. “Okay, that’s fair…”

Bruce then turned his attention to you, which automatically made you sit up straighter. “Alfred should be waiting for you outside, I’ll see you when I get home.” He said all of this and not once taking his eyes off you.

Dick looked nervously between you two, he took a step closer to beside your chair, almost in a protective stance. “Uh, maybe Y/n should escort me to Alfred, I do tend to get lost around the building and-“

“Dick..” Bruce warned.

You smiled sadly, placing your hand on his shoulder he looked back down to you. “It’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Although you were so sure of that yourself.

He gave you a small smile, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. “See you on the other side.” He said. Letting go of your hand and walking out of the office.

Looking back to Bruce who was still staring at you intently. You cleared your throat, shifting around in your seat to try and calm your nerves. “I will take any punishment you deem necessary.”

His eyes stayed on you for a moment longer. Until he let out a deep sigh. “Relax Y/n, I’m not going to punish you.”

“Really?” You couldn’t help but ask. It was a relief but still surprising.

“No, I only pretend like I was going to so Dick would think his actions would have gotten you in trouble too.” He leaned back in his chair, going back to typing on his computer.

“What? But why-“

“Right after the principal called me, I received another call from the lady at the front desk. She heard the whole conversation, especially the part of you defending him.” He glanced back to you. “She did some investigating, and well… the girls came forward. They both were willing to back up his story.”

“That’s great!” You perked up this time, feeling the relief set in finally.

“Apparently the principal was going to just go with the original story. She made sure that didn’t happen, and also didn’t fail to mention that the other parents would be involved.” He smiled softly at you.

This was great! A better outcome then you could’ve imagined. But- “Wait, what about me?”

“What about you?” He asked.

“It’s just… I still crossed a line, I mean, there’s gotta be a major HR issue about pretending to be your bosses kids mom and going to their school to get them out of trouble.” Saying it out loud definitely made it sound worse.

Bruce laughed, nodding in agreement to your statement. “Well, I do admit, it’s definitely a childish way of how things turned out, and I’m sure there’s some unspoken rule about that.”

“But?” You pushed on.

“But, you stuck your neck out for Dick, you beloved him and protected him in a way.. I think that’s enough to let it slide.” He shrugged, seeming satisfied with that explanation.

Nodding, you smiled fully this time. Taking the moment to enjoy Dick Grayson win. “He’s a great kid.”

“He is.” Bruce agreed. Standing up from his chair, he went to pass by you. “Although if I had to give some advise on the plan you two made.”

You looked up at him curious. He set a hand on top your shoulder and leaned down closer to your ear.

“I would’ve used the Wayne name instead.” He whispered. Pulling back, he smirked down at you. Seeing how your eyes widened and how you went speechless.

He squeezed your shoulder gently before walking out of his office, laughing as he shut the door.

You scoffed, taking a moment to compose yourself you got up to leave. Trying hard to lose the grin on your face.

@christianbalefanatic

#batman #batman x reader #batman x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #dc comics #dc universe #bruce wayne #queen bruce wayne #dcu

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

Missing my zombie!steve husband 🫶🏻

quiet day at the camp… hope something bad isn’t brewing… zombie apocalypse au <3 fem, 2k

Steve loves the sound of the river, but he only allows himself a moment to lay down on the riverbank during laundry hours.

You stand knee deep in the water with your pants and sleeves rolled up, the corrugated metal of an old shed roof that’s been repurposed into a washing board held to your chest. It was pointless to roll your sleeves up, you’re soaked to the bone, even your hair, but the summer sun keeps you warm.

“Don’t get too hot!” you call.

“I’m fine,” he says, unwilling to shout.

“He’s fine!” Robin shouts from beside him. “Numbskull.”

Steve stares at you, locking you in, so to speak, the nice shape of your hip and stomach, the mess of your wet hair. Tonight, he’ll help you fix it, but there’s no rush and no hurry to dry off while the sun is out, and the fences are up. He turns onto his stomach. Grass tickles his cheeks.

“You sure you’re okay?” Robin asks quietly.

“Fine. Can you tell me if she needs help?”

“Sure.” He listens to the sounds of her moving, likely pulling the slim lengths of her legs against her chest to hug herself, the tan leaves of a book spread out just in front of her.

Steve could really go for a cigarette. You swapped the last box you found for toothpaste, isn’t that how it always goes? You and Robin found a cheat code in the apocalypse, nicotine with a capital ‘N’. You swap Arctic chewable for socks without holes and boxes of Marlboro’s for the bathroom essentials. Everybody wants them, and you’re great at finding them. Steve never thought he’d crave a cigarette again considering he wasn’t addicted, having smoked for a couple of months in high school to feel cool with his friends, stopping when his mom asked him to. He doesn’t remember why. She’d asked, and he’d listened, as he used to do. Swim team, cross country, basketball, lifeguard training, mowing the lawn, not upsetting his father, taking out the trash, vacuuming, no drinking and driving; task after task after task. Some of it was easy. He liked doing the dishes, and he loved taking care of his mom even if she didn’t feel the same.

Not that it matters now. Does it matter now? He’s never gonna see her again. She’s a memory. She’s a bad memory, most of the time.

The more he reflects on it, he decides. She was a bit shitty, but she’s his mom, and she’s likely gone, so he’ll try to remember the cookies they made together and the way she’d smile at him after she tied his shoelaces before school. And also the mean fucking bitch she’d turn into when she drank two glasses of wine.

“What are you thinking about?” Robin asks.

“That’s the wrong soap,” you say from the river. Your voice floats over the breeze.

“Fuck off, soap is soap,” Eddie says, your not-so-new friend, Steve’s sworn enemy.

“I’m just saying,” you laugh. “Look, I’ll wash, you rinse.”

“I’m thinking about that time,” Steve begins, holding his hand out toward her, open but not expectant, “when my mom and dad came home early from his business trip in Missouri and found us sleeping together.”

“I’d never heard your dad laugh before,” Robin says.

“My mom really didn’t like you after that.” He smiles as she takes his hand. They were a lot more touchy, pre-apocalypse. He misses that sometimes.

“I don’t even think she thought we were dating.”

“She was disgusted.”

“She said we were being weird teenagers.”

“I guess we were. I never had a friend like you before so maybe I can’t blame her,” he says. He has something special with you, you’re a best friend because you’re half of his heart, but Robin was his first proper best friend, and remains it. “I missed you a lot when we were stuck in Indiana. There were a ton of times where shit would go wrong and I would get mad at you because I knew you’d know how to fix it, but you weren’t there.”

“You’d get mad at me?” Robin asks, squeezing his hand. “You jerk. Be mad at yourself.”

“Can you wait for me next time?” he asks.

Robin’s quiet, then she laughs, “I’m nodding but you can’t see.”

He wonders how she’s feeling. He admits to not doing that much in the past. Not that he didn’t think about how he made others feel, he was always worrying about that after Nancy, but he can’t say he thought of it in the moment. Steve forces himself to sit up and offer his arms for a hug, which Robin gladly accepts, her frazzled laugh on his neck as he pats her back.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“You know Y/N says I’m possessive?”

Robin leans away, fingers curled around his elbow. “You’re fighting?”

“No, just. She says I’m possessive, that I get mad about, you know, my people.”

“Right. Isn’t everybody?”

“I never thought I did. I’m not, like, too proud most of the time.”

“Steve, this is super introspective,” she says, frowning, smiling, a weird expression somewhere melding in the middle of happy and concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s fine if you’re not.” She laughs shrilly. “I woke up the other day and cried and then ten minutes later I felt fine. I’m far from okay.”

Steve glances past Robin’s head to watch you in the river. You’re sitting down amongst the stones. It really isn’t too deep, water to your ribcage washing suds down to Munson, who’s smiling at you kindly, not smarmy or flirting, just smiling.

“Why did you cry?” he asks quietly.

“I missed my cousin, I think.”

Steve curls his arm behind her head and encourages her in for a fiercer hug.

“Think we should probably go help them,” she mumbles.

He takes it for the brush off that it is; sincerity is too much to take, sometimes. If she wants to be evasive about it that’s okay, she already took the leap and admitted to getting upset.

“I cried thinking about Y/N’s hands the other day,” he says.

“Steve.” Robin rubs her eye with the heel of her hand. “I don’t even know what to tell you.”

“What? I’m trying to show you I’m pathetic so you don’t feel bad.”

“I know you’re pathetic, and I don’t feel bad.” She climbs off of the ground and brushes broken grass off of her legs. Steve climbs up next to her, nudging her with his elbow. “You’re mucho pathetic. It’s kind of crazy.”

“I think I might try and drown him,” he says conversationally.

“Why now?”

“Why do you think?” Steve asks, toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, nearly pitching forward on the wet bank closer to the river.

You and Eddie look up as they approach from different spots of the water. Your smile at seeing him winds him for the thousandth time, just so happy to see him, so in love with you he doesn’t even know what to do for a few seconds. “Hey, honey,” he says, “can I help?”

“Now you wanna help?” you ask, gesturing to your soaked front.

You’re messing with him, and he doesn’t care anyways, you can talk to him like crap if you want to. He shuffles down from the mud of the riverbank and into the water, cold and wet like a shock against his ankles, softer as it climbs to his knees. You’re sitting where it’s more shallow, opposed to Eddie on his knees and almost drowning further down. He puts his hand on your wet shoulder and kneels down in the water beside you. “Wanna hug?” you tease.

Steve hugs you. Doesn’t care that you’re soaking or that the water is freezing against his crown jewels, though he shivers by your ear, prompting your laugh like bubbles in his own. “It’s cold,” he says.

“Freezing!”

Not to be a freak, but he can feel your chest pressed to him, and he knows you get achy in the cold. He wraps his arms doubly behind your back and rubs at your sides. “How much laundry’s left?” he asks. “We’re gonna get hypothermia. Again.”

“You didn’t get hypothermia,” you remind him, folding into his space. “Steve… is everything okay?”

“Do I look mopey today? Robin just asked me the same thing.”

“You don’t look mopey, but you’re being touchy. You’re cuddling.”

“How am I not supposed to cuddle you, dummy? I’m keeping you warm enough to function right now. Without me you’d be an ice cube floating down the river.” He leans back to hold your face in one hand, your cheek under his thumb, water racing down his wrists and your neck.

You push against his hand gently with your cheek.

“Sorry,” he says.

“What for?”

For lots of things. “I didn’t realise how cold the water was. I would’ve come to help you.”

“It’s fine. I scrub everything and then Eddie catches it. We’ve only lost one pair of underwear,” you say. “The river’s like a long washing machine.”

“How much do you have left?” he asks.

“Nothing. I was just about to get out.”

“Couldn’t have told me that before I came to get you?”

“No,” you say, lifting your chin. Not challenging, but close. It’s an offer, Steve decides, kiss me or don’t kiss me. You don’t seem to realise he doesn’t decide, he needs you. If you always wanted to kiss him, you’d always be kissing, all the time, everywhere.

Steve gives you a quick peck. “Come on, let’s go set up the line.”

You somehow, together, make your way back to the tents without freezing to death after throwing your clothes on a drying line between trees. It’s warm enough that stripping down to your skivvies is mildly pleasant (away from the eyes of the other campers). You get dressed in the softest clothes you own upon Steve’s insistence, sweatpants and a dark hoodie, three pairs of socks and the tent door left open, before he lays you down on the sleeping bag, and settles between your legs, his full weight bearing down on you, his face nestled in the damp crook of your neck.

“I couldn’t kiss you the right way,” he confesses.

“Why?” You pull mildly at the ends of his hair.

“‘Cos I always want more than one kiss.”

“That’s a strangely romantic way to say you wanted to make out with me,” you whisper.

“It’s not like that,” he insists, even though he does want to, and he did in the river, and he does all the time.

“You’re getting kinda heavy, Steve,” you mumble.

“What?”

“It’s a good thing.”

“How dare you.”

“We got sorta frail for a bit.” You wrap an arm around his head, tip of your nose to his forehead.

“Yeah. Lucky we’re in camp Eddie now,” Steve says.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” you murmur, so close to sleeping Steve can tell. You just need a feeling of security to nudge you over the edge.

“Lucky we’re together.” He climbs off of you slowly so as not to rouse you too much, kissing your slack cheek as he settles on your shoulder. “You and me. I don’t care where we are.”

He ends up falling asleep not long after you, lulled by the rhythm of your light snore.

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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sunrizef1 · 1 year ago

Text

What happens in Vegas pt 12

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader

Warnings: Cursing, briefly mentioned puke (referenced), panic attacks (referenced), the NFL

Authors note: wanted to get this out before the race tomorrow, I actually quite like this chapter

Masterlist

—————————————————

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍Austin, TX

liked by logansargeant charles_leclerc16 and 2,309,099 others

yourusername happy to be back in Austin, ready to recharge 🔋

Tagged: logansargeant, l/nranch

load comments…

user1 the speed with which she left china is honestly so funny

user2 the race was two days ago why’s she already in America 😭

user3 why’s she at a farm???

user4 her grandpas family got rich by owning a really successful agricultural company so both her grandparents decided to buy a ranch outside of Austin, which is where y/n grew up

user5 her dad being English always throws me off when I think about her family tbh

user6 her grandpa went to a race once and made the joke that the Americanism skipped a generation lol

user7 wait I’m new to y/n, how’s her dad English but the rest of her family’s American?

user8 her grandparents were based in England when he was born but they ended up really busy so they sent him to a boarding school from the time he was really young, hence the accent

user9 they’re so confusing 😭

user10 my favorite cowgirl

user11 she couldn’t wait till cota to go home???

logansargeant your grandma likes me more than you

yourusername no she doesn’t

user12 I didn’t know Logan went with her

user13 where’s Charles???

yourusername added to their story

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍Las Vegas, NV

liked by killatrav taylorswift13 and 3,980,756 others

yourusername had a great time at the @/patrickmahomes charity golf gala this weekend! Grateful for the opportunity to show all these boys how it’s done out on the green and support charity at the same time! ⛳️

Might have to get you a different hat though 😉 @/killatrav

Tagged: logansargeant, killatrav, patrickmahomes

load comments…

user14 are those Porsche golf balls!?!?

user15 THEY EAT SO HARD

logansargeant I 100% beat you

yourusername I was 5 under par. You were 5 over. You lost.

logansargeant ☹️

user16 what a crossover

killatrav don’t hate the player, hate the game 🤷‍♂️

yourusername i dont hate the game, I just hate alpine

pierregasly ???

yourusername see you next week, Frenchie

user17 her and Pierres fake beef is genuinely so funny to me

user18 where's Charlesssss

user19 he liked the post, at least

user20 omg they're in Vegas! Remember what happened last time they were in Vegas…

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍Bellagio Hotel & Casino, Las Vegas

liked by charles_leclerc16 donnakelce and 6,989,870 others

yourusername Last night out in Vegas 😵‍💫

I'm, once again, honored to have been invited to the 15 and the Mahomies Charity Gala! Got to auction off a few paddock passes and also got to spend a great night out with friends!

Thanks so much Vegas, you were a lot better this time than you were last time.

Tagged: logansargeant, taylorswift13, killatrav, patrickmahomes, charles_leclerc16

load comments…

user21 CHARLES CONTENT?!?!

user22 she seems happier than she has before

user23 Logan and Taylor swift in the same room is not something I’d ever expect tbh

patrickmahomes thanks for coming! ❤️💛

yourusername thanks for inviting us! ❤️🖤

user24 this is just so American

taylorswift13 🫶

yourusername 🫶

user25 more Logan content this week than Williams gives in a month

user26 they’ve been to like three different states already lmao

user27 I need the home field advantage from Miami for these two this weekend

logansargeant I’m so tired

yourusername at least it was fun 🤷‍♀️

logansargeant lol, it definitely was

user28 the first pic is so sibling coded

user29 “Mon ange” CHARLESSS 🥹

user30 the fact he’s tagged on the messages 😭

user31 THE LAST LINE ABOUT VEGAS?!?! IM SCREAMING!!!

TWITTER

MESSAGES

TWITTER

MESSAGES

TWITTER

MESSAGES

TWITTER

MESSAGES

TWITTER

MESSAGES

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x fem!driver #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x fem!driver!reader #fem!driver!reader #fem!driver

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deadpcnned · 4 months ago

Text

Sealed by the Storm (jj.m)

chapter five

pairing: jj maybank x reader; marriage of convenience

content warning(s): mentions of vomiting

author's note: i always sit down thinking i have nothing to write and then the chapters end up this long... i'm sorry. if you're reading this, maybe you can lmk if you'd prefer the chapters be shorter (esp since it's a series)

join the taglist | series masterlist

previous chapter | next chapter

JJ feels as though he can still tell which patches of grass he'd stepped over when he trekked the path he is currently walking less than twenty-four hours ago. Only yesterday, he was making his way to the familiar red brick steps that would lead him to one of his most life-altering moments. JJ had always expected to be a frequent flyer at the Kildare County Courthouse, but his two most recent trips to the establishment couldn't have existed in his wildest dreams.

Getting married at nineteen — sorry, John B— to you would have been like a weird fever dream he experienced while on a crazy trip. Being a property and store owner with his best friends? That dream he had kept buried deep inside his heart for years. From as early as twelve, JJ saw the potential in the property where they'd built Poguelandia 2.0. He spent many nights using the open water to catch something to make for his dad and or to make an escape when he needed to. He knew that land and that water like he knew the back of his hand. Building a business like the shop from the ground up had been what JJ had made his eighth-grade career fair project about. He'd completed it with a piece of printer paper he'd stolen from the school library and a red marker he'd taken from his homeroom teacher. He'd crumpled it up and thrown it away before he could turn it in when he realized all the kids had made theirs on full-sized poster boards.

It was moments like those that had made him decide early on he'd never be a business owner. Those subtle reminders that he was in a league so far behind the rest that even completing a middle school project properly wasn't possible for him. When he and the rest of the Pogues had established Poguelandia 2.0, he couldn't believe it. It was proof that twelve-year-old JJ hadn't been wrong. Forget proof of validation- it had made him happy. So happy. To belong, to have purpose. And that happiness may be snatched from his grip in an hour.

JJ drove the Twinkie up to the courthouse, and in the time he'd spent parking it, the Pogues had already begun making their way in. Spotting Kie, he decides to try to catch up to her. Kie had been quiet all morning, and he obviously hadn't had the time to talk to her last night. If he's being honest, he isn't sure what he'd say to her if she were willing to talk. 'I'm sorry?' 'You up?' Nothing he'd say in any other situation made sense in this one. What did a guy say to the girl he was sleeping with after getting married?

"Kie—" JJ's call is cut quiet when he notices who Kiara has just met up with in the gathering crowd. Anna Carrera embraces her daughter tight, while Mike Carrera stands with a straight face behind his wife. JJ tries to turn the other way to dodge them, but Kiara has already heard him and is waving him over. Fighting a grimace, JJ makes his way over to the trio.

"Morning," JJ says, nodding at Mike and Anna. He should probably shake Mike's hand, but he isn't a fan of false niceties and Mike and JJ are not cordial.

"You showed up," Mike chides, resulting in a tap to his chest from his wife, who is clearly trying to keep the peace.

"It's a hearing concerning my property. Where else would I be?" JJ shrugs. Mike has never been a fan of Kiara hanging around the Pogues, but he definitely has a personal vendetta against JJ. It's been like that for years. Maybe he has some fatherly sixth sense that told him JJ's relationship with Kie was different from the rest, but JJ thought it was more that Mike saw him for exactly what he is — nothing good.

"Didn't bring your wife? Not dragging her into this with you?" Mike's question might have thrown JJ off — what with being addressed as having a wife— if it didn't feel like he'd spit the word. He can't figure out why Mike, referring to you that way, claws out an even darker part of him than he usually feels come out with Kie's dad.

"Her name's Y/N," JJ corrects, his tone low. "She's a good friend of your daughters, actually. I dropped 'em both off here just now." JJ lifts his right shoulder to give off an air of disregard for Mike's faux concern.

"Right. Well, I hope you don't mind giving us some time with our daughter," Mike uses his hand to gently guide Kiara into the courthouse with him, and JJ waits for Kiara to stiffen up and bristle, telling her dad no. But when he looks at Kie, he doesn't see the same fire he usually does when her parents are sticking their noses in her business. The fire is still there, but instead of defiance, it is fueled by something bitter JJ can't quite place. He watches as she lets her father guide her, not waiting to see if JJ will follow.

JJ knows he probably looks like an idiot, standing alone like he's frozen. He feels it then, that tight pull right in the center of his chest. A loop of everything wrong starts to run through his mind: Kiara's mad. Property hearing. Groff's my dad. Kooks always win. The loop won't end no matter how hard he tries to turn it off. The volume may decrease as he gets more feedback to interpret, but it'll still be there like a low thrum in the background.

He finally picks up his feet and moves towards the courthouse, his mind only half there, as if he is floating instead of making the mindful decision to walk. As he draws near the ivory building, he sees Pope and Cleo standing by the doors, in conversation with Pope's parents. It's the person standing a few feet away from the red steps who captures his attention.

There you are, standing all alone in the bustling crowds. His fucking wife. Your eyes keep flitting around the lawn, looking for something or likely someone. JJ ignores the tiny voice in his head that wants you to be looking for him.

He doesn't know what's wrong with him, but he can't get the image of you from last night out of his head. You in that white dress the moment he decided he liked your hair down best — loose and carefree. You when he was knelt in front of you, all the cards in your hand, still choosing him. You with the barely restrained tears that had felt like they were blurring his vision instead of yours. And you, with that wide smile and those flushed cheeks from the summer night's heat. The way you danced, your body molding perfectly into his as he spun you closer. He had realized that somewhere between all the fun, he hadn't wanted to let go. There is possibly nothing more dangerous than feeling like he needed to touch you at this moment in time.

JJ wills away the haunting memories of last night as he finally reaches you. You'd caught sight of him when he was a few feet away and are speaking as soon as he is in earshot.

"You parked," You say, and JJ just smirks at you stating the obvious. He hasn't spoken to you one-on-one since you returned to your room last night.

"That I did. You ready to head in?" You nod at JJ's question but make no effort to enter the courthouse. You bite your lip, worrying the soft skin with your teeth. JJ tries not to dwell on how badly he wants to free it for you. "What?"

"Something feels wrong, JJ."

"Yeah, no shit," JJ grumbles, though he finds comfort in being able to focus on his anger rather than whatever else he's feeling at the moment. "These fucking Kooks, man. Always in our way."

Kooks always win. Kooks always win.

You shake your head again before looking around. "I can't shake this feeling like we're forgetting something huge."

"I think JB brought the Proof of Ownership certificate with us, but I'm sure the court has those files on hand, too," JJ says, trying to ease your worries.

"No it's not…" You shrug, giving up on explaining this to JJ. "Never mind, I'm probably just anxious."

"You sure?" JJ takes your nod for what it is– not at all assuring but a green light to proceed anyway. You both walk into the courthouse side by side, the perfect image of a united front. Pope and John B have saved you both a seat at the edge of their bench, and JJ steps back to let you slide in first. He settles beside you, his legs kicking out as he slouches against the backrest, but his attention doesn't stray from you. His gaze remains on your fingers as you wrap them around the edge of your green top, your nerves clearly needing a way to physically manifest themselves. JJ balls his hands in fists to stop himself from reaching out to hold your hand. That probably would do the opposite of consoling you.

He fights the urge all throughout the start of the hearing. His mind's still running through his spiral, and as he fails to pay attention, the hearing plays on a loop.

Kiara's mad. Property hearing. Groff's my dad. Kooks always win.

JJ watches as your group elects John B as their spokesperson. He listens to his speech and knows he should be choking up on emotion, but instead, all he can do is focus on his own thoughts. Eventually, the other side is speaking, and he hears something that draws his attention.

"So, what the, uh, current occupants of the land don't seem to understand is that there is an injunction to invalidate the most recent sale," JJ straightens in his seat, no longer able to play the part of uncaring. What does he mean by invalidate? "There was a pre-existing promissory note from the original owner that was in the process of being finalized when the land auction took place." JJ bristles. From the corner of his eye, he can sense the Pogue's confusion, but as he searches his mind for an answer, the pieces are coming together too quickly. The hotshot lawyer keeps speaking, but all JJ can concentrate on is 'previous owner.' Before the Pogues, it had been JJ's house. Which means the previous owner is…

"Where is the original owner? And can he validate the authenticity of this document?" the judge asks, to which Dale, the lawyer, responds affirmatively.

"He's right here," JJ turns slowly, the appalled gasps of the crowd barely registering past the blood thumping in his ear. There he is, Luke Maybank, his father. No – not his father. The man JJ had been thrown onto, never wanted and never loved, no matter what tiny moments JJ had believed they'd shared.

Groff's my dad. Groff's my dad. Groff's my dad.

Somewhere around him, JJ can hear words like 'son,' 'JJ's dad,' and 'fugitive.' The only clear sound comes from beside him: 'We were missing something.' None of that feedback matters, though. JJ can't focus on one thing long enough to process it. The world around him has reached a screeching halt, but his thoughts are neverending bursts of chaos. Of course Luke didn't show up to stand behind him, to support JJ in not losing the land that their fragile relationship had been tethered to.

"JJ, why would your dad–" Kiara's voice rings through to JJ from her spot next to Pope. JJ doesn't look up as he opens his mouth to respond, but your voice cuts in to answer for him.

"He's not his fucking dad," If JJ was in a more conscious state, he might have enough energy to flinch at your words and the lethal tone you spoke them in. Instead, his head falls, and he can feel it happening. The moment right before his chest completely constricts, and his legs carry him away, running from everything happening here. JJ stands up abruptly, facing the man who ruined him. Luke's eyes find JJ's immediately, and there is probably something he can read in them if he wants to, but JJ has no interest in that.

From a distance, he hears a familiar voice. She's shouting something about love and not being deserving of it. But it's not the right kind of feedback. He can't use it to reel himself in.

Property hearing. Kooks always win. Property hearing. Kooks always win. Property hearing. Kooks always win.

JJ's feet carry him towards Luke, but he doesn't stop, ignoring him. He walks right past him, and with a frenzied turn of his head, he searches for anything he can grab ahold of. His fingers twist around the smooth surface of a chair and he lifts it over his head. He intends to crash the chair into a window and get some goddamn air in this room, but he never gets the chance.

"JJ, no." It's you. You followed him? He looks up, his mind still not completely catching up with the moment, to see the rest of the Pogues crowding the front of the room. Then you. JJ scoffs at the fact that you feel the need to follow him. Always fucking babysitting him.

JJ's arms are being restrained by the security officer who stands by the courthouse door. As he resists the man's grip, another security guard joins in. JJ can hear you telling him to stop, to not 'spin out.'

"Take him out!" You yell at an officer, and as they drag him out the doors, JJ thinks he never wants to see you again. Your self-righteousness is so apparent in your features. You always know the right thing to do, and in your mind, JJ couldn't tell his right foot from his left.

"Let— let go of me!" JJ yells, his voice shaking with his body. "Stop!"

Eventually, the guards let go, and there you are again, your hands out in front of you in a cautious stance as if he's some animal that just escaped its cage. JJ can't see anything past red, and without Luke in front of him, you are slowly becoming his target. JJ needs to get past you and away before he does something he'd actually regret.

JJ charges past, or at least he feels like he is charging. In reality, his movements are slow, from the delirious state he's reaching, giving you the chance to step in front of him. You reach your arms out, pushing them against his chest, and the force is strong enough to shove him to the ground and not even there at the same time.

“Y/N.” JJ seethes. "Move."

"I won't let you do something you'll regret." JJ steps back, his hands coming up to pull at his hair. You are so frustrating. No. You are downright infuriating and he is so tired of it. You'd gotten in the way and gave him the chance to think about what he's doing. Thinking means feeling and feeling means he won't be able to stop from breaking down.

"JJ," your voice comes out soft, as if you are trying to coddle him, and it sounds so wrong coming from you. So fake. You don't care. You can't care. Because you see him for exactly what he is. You see him like mold that ruins everything it touches, making it irreparable. Yet, he finds himself wanting to let go of his inhibitions and lean into that softness. He wants to trust it and wrap himself up in it. Your voice seems to be the right kind of feedback. He's able to focus on it and grab onto it. But he's not ready to.

Property hearing. Kooks always win.

Tears are gathering in his eyes, and he looks around quickly to see if anyone is nearby. A few stragglers have left the courthouse, and he immediately runs to the back of the building. He knows you're hot on his trail, but right now, he needs to hide from prying eyes. Everyone will be looking to see how Luke Maybank's son reacts.

You don't say anything right away, and JJ relishes the moment of quiet. But all good things must come to an end, or so they say.

"JJ, you don't des—"

"Screw that!" JJ's voice is loud and full of disdain. "Screw what I deserve. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve to call that place his. He's… he's not fit," JJ emphasizes his point by hitting the pads of his fingers against his temple. "Don't they see that?"

The look on your face doesn't feel like pity but JJ still doesn't want to see it. You can't care. Do you care?

"No, he doesn't. I know he doesn't," you agree, and JJ shakes his head. "But he doesn't deserve you throwing your life away for him."

"You don't get it. He's not fit," JJ's arms are being thrown in every direction as he made his point. "He's not fucking fit, and I have the receipts to prove it."

"What do you mean, JJ?" You ask with a note of hope that makes JJ's heart throb. "Is he not the actual owner? Did someone else own the property before?"

JJ sighs, a sound between a groan and a 'no' leaving his throat. "No— I… never mind."

He watches your face fall; that light in your eyes, the one he found too rarely, disappears again. With the final bit of fight seeping from his body he slumps against the wall of the courthouse, his head falling between his crossed arms. He doesn't expect you to meet him where he is, and you don't move for a moment, but then he feels your hand against his arm. You're massaging circles into his bicep and even with the added layers of his gray shirt and blue flannel, he feels like his skin is on fire. He's still angry, it seems, because everything feels like it's on fire with you here.

He lets you touch him still, unable to escape the heat. He doesn't lift his head or say a word, but he also doesn't move away. After a moment, he feels you rest your forehead against his shoulder. You both must look uncomfortable, the way he's curled into himself, and you are probably extending your neck far enough to reach his shoulder, but neither of you changes the position you're in.

His mind is silent. No loop, no spiral. JJ is unsure how long the two of you sit there like that, but nothing seems to be pulling you away from him until he hears a voice from around the corner.

"Let's check here," it's Pope's voice. When JJ lifts his head, he sees you haven't moved yours just yet. He has this lingering thought that he doesn't want Pope to find you just yet. Pope does, of course.

JJ makes eye contact with Pope and then with Kie. The speed with which that burning sensation leaves his body is as though a bucket of ice water has been dropped over him. Kie's face gives away nothing, but her eyes tell a different story. She's upset, but right now, he can't really find it in himself to care.

Kiara's mad. Kiara's mad. Kiara's mad.

"Guys," Pope speaks, only pausing for a second to take in the sight of you resting on JJ. You finally lift your head at his voice, pushing your body back so you aren't as close to JJ. "They're calling us in. Emptied everyone except us and Topper's team."

"You guys go ahead," It's you who speaks up for the both of you. "We'll be right behind you."

"Y/N, why don't you head in with Pope? I'll come with JJ," Kie's voice is void of malice, which JJ is relieved about. This whole thing is weird enough; he doesn't need Kie holding onto misplaced emotions because of your arrangement.

"Right," You nod, standing up. You look at JJ once giving him a nod as well. No consoling smile or encouraging words to part. Just a nod like you had this one under control. Great job, comrade.

And yet, he doesn't want you to go. He wants to stay like this for just a little while longer. He also knows he should want that with Kie. God, when had this all become so complicated?

He turns to the curly-haired girl, who is already offering him that sympathetic smile you failed to give him, and he realizes he kind of hates it. He always hates that smile, but he loves what's associated with it. Free range to fuck up as profoundly as he wants. For once, he doesn't want that pass. He wants to believe he can be better and not need it. Laughable, truly.

"Jayj, I'm so sorry." What else is she supposed to say, really? 'I'm sorry your dad's a piece of shit' basically sums it up. It still feels so pointless. "You deserve better family."

Alright, well now that one is definitely pointless.

"Yeah, well, "JJ shrugs, pushing his arm out to one side. He's gotten up now and is already walking towards the front of the courthouse. "We all do."

He knows she wants to say more, but he doesn't want to hear it right now. Kiara accepts that. He feels like there was a time she wouldn't have. She used to put him in his place, but somewhere along the way, she'd stopped. If he had to pinpoint a time, he thinks it was sometime after he'd spent his restitution money on that hot tub. She'd been so angry at first, but after seeing him all bruised up, she hadn't said anything again. She'd even argued with Pope and John B to let them keep the hot tub instead of returning it. In a way, Kie has accepted that this was JJ. He'd always be the guy who drew shit cards and kept gambling like he had a Royal Flush each round.

"Mr. Maybank, is it?" the judge asks as JJ walks up to the front. John B pats him on the shoulder, leaving his hand there for a while. JJ only nods in response to the judge. "I trust you've calmed down enough to be part of this conversation."

JJ nods once. The judge, still displeased, continues anyway. JJ knows Luke's still in the room; he saw him as soon as he came in. He's standing between Topper Thornton and his lawyer. He must feel like he's on top of the world, sandwiched between those Kooks, and untouchable. He always sort of was for JJ.

"As discussed during the trial, land ownership has been transferred from the original owner. Seeing as the property was auctioned off before these details were settled, the property is rightfully theirs."

"Judge, with all due respect, that's unfair," JJ can hear the voices of every adult who ever told him life's not fair as John B speaks. "When we purchased the land, we weren't told of any such issues. To punish us for the fault of another party is wrong."

The judge nods, not pleased with the situation either. "I agree, Mr. Routledge. However, these are not mere technicalities, and we must not treat them as such. I am sympathetic to you all, and for that, I've decided to grant you a one-week eviction notice."

JJ scoffs and is pleased to find out he's not the only one. He looks up at you, and when you notice, you roll your eyes as if you are the only ones who can see how idiotic this judge is.

"What about our money?" You say, your voice full of authority. You're not usually the one who speaks up in public, leaving that kind of work to Cleo, so JJ is surprised to hear you so sure of yourself. "We paid a lot of money for that property; if the auction is void, we should get that back."

JJ hadn't thought of that. He'd been so caught up in losing this dream he hadn't thought about the fact that the money could be returned to you. That it should be.

"I also agree with you, Ms. …" You don't fill in the space the judge leaves, instead sticking your nose up at the thought of sharing information about yourself. JJ does nothing to hide the smirk that comes out of him, subconsciously finding himself jutting his chin out to mimic you. The judge continues, but he does not looks happy about your display of rebellion.

"The sum you paid for the property should be returned to all of you. However, because this auction was done through a third party and not by this court, the money's return could take between three to six months."

The judge lifts his hands at the outburst of the Pogues, cutting them off. "This is completely out of your control, but it is out of my control as well. I've decided that until the money from the auction has been returned, no work can be done on the old Maybank property."

This time, the Kooks in the room react poorly to the news. JJ should be glad it's not all smooth sailing for the Kooks, but they'll still get there eventually. What's there to celebrate in that? The judge continues, going between appeasing you all and the Kooks and then going over the ground rules.

The Pogues must leave by the following Wednesday at 12 pm.

The Kooks may not remove any structures or begin work until the money has been returned to the Pogues.

There will be another hearing between the two parties and the judge when the money has been returned and construction may only proceed then.

There's more. So many rules, all of them pointless.

JJ walks out behind all the Pogues except you. You're walking next to JJ again, with a little more space. No one speaks.

"JJ," JJ stills at the voice of his father. He can hear it already, that tilt of apology present. JJ never could figure out if it was real. If his dad would have these moments of clarity, he could see just how cruel he was or if it was just a way to get JJ to keep coming back.

JJ sighs, as if he'd rather be anywhere else than having this conversation, but he wants to hear the reason for the betrayal.

"What?" JJ asks, his voice full of nonchalance that doesn't belong in this conversation. Topper and his family have already headed towards the parking lot, leaving only Luke, JJ, and the other Pogues.

"JJ, I'm sorry," Luke starts, inching closer but stopping when JJ steps forward. When Luke's sober, he's a bit of a coward. You gotta believe me; I had no choice."

"Could've been a man and gone to prison," JJ shrugs. "Simple as that." Luke's face is small, so different from how he looks in his fits of rage.

"Son, please—" JJ flinches at the term. Son. He hates how much he loves it.

Groff's my dad. Groff's my dad. Groff's my dad.

Suddenly, he doesn't want to have this conversation anymore.

"You don't deserve him," It's Kie who speaks up from somewhere behind him. "You don't deserve his love."

JJ wants to vomit. Do they know he loves Luke? Do they not believe him when he pretends not to care? He doesn't want them to see through his act.

"I'm talking to my son," Luke is shooting daggers at Kie, but she keeps going.

"Don't call him that. He loves you, and you betray—"

"Kie, stop." JJ mumbles, but she doesn't.

"You betrayed him. He's so much better than what you gave him."

JJ's mumbling for Kiara to stop, but it's like she doesn't hear him. Or maybe he's not actually speaking out loud. He feels you then, brushing past him and walking past Kiara, who's come closer to where JJ is standing. You stride up to Luke and JJ wants to pick you up and tuck you away. He knows Luke's basically harmless when he's sober, but he still wants you nowhere near him.

He watches as your hands grab the front of Luke's worn-out shirt, pulling him down to your level. Your voice is low as you speak, but the words still ring loudly.

"You're a piece of shit who got in my way," Your teeth are grinding against each other. "Watch your back." You let go with a hard shove that pushes Luke farther back than someone who didn't know you would expect you to be able to accomplish. "And leave JJ and us alone, asshole."

You don't even wait to watch what Luke does, turning around and grabbing JJ's wrist to lead him to the Twinkie. You're mumbling something under your breath the whole way to the Twinkie that JJ can't understand. When you finally reach the Twinkie, you remove your hand from JJ's arm and cross them across your chest.

"He's such a piece of shit," you whine, and JJ almost wants to laugh. One because you're telling him? And two, because you look practically childlike in your anger, and after such a devastating loss, it's almost a relief. There are no pitying comments in an attempt to soften the blow Luke landed. With JJ, certain steps need to be performed at specific temperatures. Right now, when he's cooled down, but his hand is still on the knob to start the stove, he needs to pretend that nothing is happening. And if he can't do that, he needs to pretend that what's happening isn't a problem unique to him. Somehow, you know exactly how to handle him right now.

You're making the problem one he can share with you. He doesn't have to shoulder it alone and he doesn't have to feel like he's the only one drowning. He can use you to come up to the surface.

"That he is," JJ whistles, then smirks as a thought strikes him. "How'd you like meeting your father-in-law?"

You stare at him momentarily, your eyes comically wide, before you smile at him. Your smile against the backdrop of these circumstances feels like agony and he thinks he may be a masochist.

"Think I may start calling him daddy."

"Aye, that title's reserved for me—"

"Okay, okay," you shut him up, your arms coming up to shove at his chest lightly. You're laughing though. Your real laugh, the choking one. JJ's hands come up to catch yours, tugging you closer, and he relishes how your eyes become hooded, the only indication that his being near you does anything. Fuck, why does it do something?

"You've got the keys," your voice is even, and you don't move away from his grip, almost making him second-guess whether he really does have any effect on you at all. "Unlock the car."

JJ reaches into his pants pocket and then the next, following with the one stitched into his flannel. He's making a show of not being able to find the keys because he knows how you'll react, and he wants that sense of normalcy.

"JJ, I swear to God if you lost the keys," JJ quickly brandishes the keys from his flannel pocket, giving you a sideways look. You just roll your eyes and get into the back seat. You don't sit next to him when he gets in the driver's seat, and when Kie takes the passenger seat instead, he guesses that makes sense.

The week following the town hall meeting had been painful, to say the least. It felt like everyone was tiptoeing around one another, afraid to directly address the issue and too stubborn to let go. The Pogues had tried to come up with solutions the evening they returned and the following day. Every option thrown in the middle of their circle seemed like it would be their life raft, but soon enough, they’d find a dozen holes in it. The Pogues were used to working in the gray, but this issue had them working in black and white. The problem was too entangled in legal technicalities to find a backdoor solution.

You and the other girls are gathered in Sarah and John B’s cramped room because Sarah had said she felt too sick to get out of bed.

“What are you feeling?” You ask Sarah, whose head is resting against your thigh. She has a lethargic look painted across her features that’s making you tired.

“Mm, don’t know,” Sarah mumbles. “Just feel tired.”

“You must’ve caught a bug,” Kie says from where she’s sprawled out on the floor. “Just gotta rest.”

Your hands run through Sarah’s hair to comfort her, but your mind keeps wondering what’ll happen tomorrow. No one is addressing the issue, and even though there’s been ample time to pack, no one has begun to do so either.

“Where are we gonna go?” Your voice is hushed, afraid to be the one to bring it up. The atmosphere doesn’t shift so much as it intensifies. The threat of leaving this home is constantly looming over you all, but you’re bringing it down and covering the group with it by putting it into words.

Cleo sighs from her corner of the bed, “We’re gonna go with Pope to his parents’.”

That much you had assumed. It was like when you arrived from Poguelandia and crashed in their living room. Your question had been more abstract.

“Um, no,” Sarah says, and you can hear the nausea in her voice. It sounds like her words are escaping past a literal lump in her throat. “Y/N has to stay with JJ. You’ll come with John B and me.”

“Sarah, come on. It’s not that serious,” You argue. Your eyes find Kie’s, who has sat up a little and is already looking at you. You hadn’t had the conversation with her yet, and now it feels a bit pointless. You had already married JJ, so what was the point in running it by her? At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. In reality, you have built the conversation up so much that it felt like too high a wall to climb now.

Sarah lifts her head from your lap, “It is exactly that serious. What kind of married couple splits up a week after their wedding?” You bite back your bitter reply of a ‘fake one,’ not wanting another lecture from Sarah.

“Well, where exactly are we going? Because the Chateau doesn’t exist anymore.” Sarah’s entire expression changes. She’s biting her lip in a way that makes it seem like she’s sorry more than anxious.

“So I went to see Rafe after he stopped by at the shop,” Sarah starts, her eyes flitting to the side. “He, uh, was talking about trying to… reconcile our family.”

You’re sure you’re staring at Sarah as if she has two heads. In what world is Rafe Cameron going to save their family?

“And you told him to shove whatever plan he was brewing up his ass, right?” Cleo asks. You hum in agreeance.

“I know it sounds crazy. Trust me, if anyone knows how untrustworthy he is, it’s me. But… it makes the most sense right now.” Sarah’s picking at her cotton pajama shorts, avoiding you and Cleo’s eyes. Kiara rises from the floor and sits next to Cleo.

“You’re planning on staying in his house… with him?” Kie’s voice is dripping with well-founded disbelief and defensible judgment.

“I’m not doing that,” You add.

“No, of course not,” Sarah finally looks up. “He has a one-bedroom apartment he bought to lease and said John B and I can take it.”

“And you trust that?”

“No, but I trust that he said we can call a guy to change the locks. And that he’ll finance it.” You tilt your head in semi-approval. At least she’s thought it through somewhat. Picking up on the fact that you aren’t entirely convinced, she adds, “It’s our best bet, Y/N. Where else are me, you, and Kie gonna go.”

She’s right, but knowing she’s right doesn’t make it easier to accept this is where fate has taken you. You’d never met someone as evil and, frankly, unhinged as Rafe Cameron. He’d tried to drown his sister, for crying out loud. Now, you were going to trust him to shelter you?

“So, let me get this straight,” Cleo leans forward. “We’re trusting Rafe Cameron to give you a safe space? That’s like giving a kleptomaniac the keys to your shop and asking him to watch it.”

“What– what other choice do we have?” Sarah’s voice wavers, but she looks resolute about her choice. “I can’t just let us fall apart. Not again. I need to make this work, and if that means trusting Rafe, then so be it.”

You can’t argue with her when you hear how much this means to her. If five of you are together, that’s still better than zero.

“Um,” You turn to look at Kie. “I’m gonna go stay with my parents.” You lock eyes with Cleo, both of you silently acknowledging how out of character this is for Kiara. Kiara’s relationship with her parents is rocky. Not in the way it was for JJ or Sarah, but her childhood home is not a place of comfort for her. She’s doing this because of you and JJ. Which makes no sense because you and he are nothing.

“Kie, you’re coming with us,” You insist.

“No,” Kie shakes her head. “I’m not. A one-bedroom can’t fit five people, and apparently, you’ve gotta stay with JJ. Guess the rest of us have to figure it out alone.” The bitter tone in her voice is not missed, and you’re scrambling to find something to take it away. Kiara may not be the closest to you, but she is your family. You love her like you love Sarah and Cleo. You don’t want to lose her because of a guy you don’t even like romantically.

You love them all, and they’re all slipping out of your grasp. Kiara’s bitterness, Sarah’s desperate optimism, and Cleo’s lack of contesting all leave you feeling like the ground is being taken out from under you. Then there’s JJ– residing in your mind in the form of a shadow and complicating everything.

One moment, he’s behaving so much like the reckless boy who drives you crazy, his words biting and his actions thoughtless. He makes you want to scream, but when you least expect it, he’s pulling you in close and shielding you from the chaos — even when he’s the cause. His touch is always steady, anchoring you to this convoluted reality. That part of him — the one that seems like his rawest, most unguarded self — gives you whiplash. He’s a mess you feel you’re constantly cleaning and a safety net continually catching you.

“Kie–” You try to get her attention.

“Hey, Sar, I’m gonna go make you some soup. Just… call the boys back. Let’s have our last dinner.”

You're not sure how the night had rushed by you so quickly. The dinner had been a haze of forced conversation, and the night had been full of drunken suppression. No one reminisced about their time at Poguelandia 2.0 and discussed how much they'd miss it. That might be something you'd all regret in the future, but it seemed like your last line of defense last night, to live in denial.

You're all outside the house now, the early morning sun mocking you. The sun isn't gentle. It beats down on you but does nothing to warm you from the chill washing down your spine. The sharp light cuts you out of your thoughts of the wasted night, a cruel reminder that it's all over. Pope and Kie's parents drove up to help transfer their belongings, but they were waiting further away to give you all privacy. The yard, which you had loved for its spaciousness, feels too small. You could see Mr. Heyward leaning against his truck, trying to maintain a respectful distance from the group. Kie's dad had packed his car with her belongings and immediately sat back in the driver's seat, never wanting to interact with the rest of you. You know Pope's dad is carrying your grief with you all, but you wonder if Kiara's dad feels more smug– like he finally gets his chance to shout, 'I told you so!' You want to beg Kiara not to give up, not to go back to their house, but you don't because you think you're the last person she'll listen to.

You're unsure how many hugs Sarah gives you, but she won't stop even though you are both going to the same place. Cleo isn't holding it together nearly as well as you thought she would. The strongest girl you know is failing at hiding the tremor in her voice, and it's throwing you off balance.

"You sure you and JJ can't just crash with us?" She asks, resting her hand on your arm.

You shake your head. "We'd just make it harder for you guys." You can see on Cleo's face that that isn't the right thing to say, so you add, "Plus, Pope would get back pains after we force him to sleep on the floor."

Cleo gives you a shakey smile before pulling you in toward her. She hugs you tighter than ever before, and you return it tenfold. She'd been your rock since you were fourteen. You'd never spent a night more than a few rooms away from her, and now you'd be on different sides of this island, which you felt you were still learning some days. You didn't know how to survive without her guiding your way.

"I'll call you," She whispers.

"Every day," You promise.

When you pull away, you see JJ standing in the corner with Kie. He looks like he's trying to convince her of something, his hands waving as he speaks. Kie has that determined look on her face that you always admired. She doesn't look like she'll budge about whatever they're discussing. You don't want to stare at this private moment between them but can't tear your eyes away. Is he pleading with her? Apologizing? Only saying goodbye?

You don't have to watch Kiara and JJ for much longer because suddenly she's stepping away from him with her hand out to halt his motions. That's the last you see of Kiara before she walks away from the slowly dispersing group. Pope and Cleo are the next to go, leaving a hole in your heart that you're not sure you'll ever fill.

The ride to Rafe's apartment is quiet, even quieter than the ride you four had taken to the courthouse the day of your wedding. When you finally reach the building, no one announces the arrival and no one talks until you enter the apartment. It's a grand apartment, fully furnished and nicely decorated. You'd expect nothing less from a Kook property, and it makes you want to tear apart every – probably custom-made – painting on the wall. Why do they have to have everything?

"Fucking Kooks," JJ mumbles, taking in the room. "Fucking Kooks."

"Couldn't Rafe have just bought the land? " John B. adds, and it feels like a stab to the chest.

You can hear Pope commenting with some smart-ass comment or shockingly sassy remark, but he isn't here, and no one fills the silence.

You don't bother unpacking your suitcase; you're so used to living out of limited storage space. Instead, you help Sarah hang her clothes while the boys go to the grocery store to get a couple of essentials. Sarah is in the restroom, and you've just finished hanging the last of John B's printed button-downs. For a Pogue, he sure did have a lot of shit.

"Oh my God!" You hear a screech from the connected restroom, startling you. You drop the shirt you just picked up from Sarah's box of clothes.

With your heart in your throat, you approach the restroom door, "Sarah?"

"Oh my God, oh my God," Sarah continues to repeat the three words, her alarm rising each time.

"Sarah, open up," When she doesn't reply but her panic persists, you try the knob and find the restroom is unlocked. "I'm coming in," you warn and rush in without waiting for a response.

Sarah is bent over the sink, her left hand covering her mouth. Her right arm is hidden from your view, and she's shaking.

"What happened?" You ask, leaning forward to find some semblance of an answer.

Sarah doesn't say anything, but she pushes her right arm out towards you. Her lips are pursed in a thin line, her cheeks void of color. You take a moment to process what she is showing you. In her hand is a blue and white stick, and you take it from her hand to inspect it closer.

"Holy shit."

It's a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test. Sarah's positive pregnancy test.

"Is this…"

"It's real," Sarah whispers. You look up at her, and she returns your stare as if she is expecting you to explain this to her.

"What are you going to do?" It isn't the right thing to say in this situation, but it's the first thing you can think of.

"I don't know," Sarah's voice breaks, and her emotions flood out. "I mean, I'm nineteen. I'm living in my murderous brother's rental property because we don't even have jobs. Babies are expensive! I need a job. What will JB thi–"

"Hey, hey," you say, placing the pregnancy test on the counter and stepping toward her to cut off her rambling. Breathe, Sar. Just breathe." Her chest is heaving, and you exaggerate your breathing to model what you need from her. When she begins to calm down and matches her breath to yours, you ask, "Is this something you want?"

Sarah lets out something between an inhale and a whimper. At first, she shakes her head, but something changes when she turns to the sink, and her eyes catch on the test. Her shoulders fall, but instead of devastation, you see relief.

"I want this so bad," She whispers. You agree with everything she said: having a baby in her situation doesn't fit, but you can't help but smile at her. "I didn't think I would, but if I am…" Her hand rests on her stomach, a streak of protectiveness you are both used to seeing from her and is entirely foreign to you. "I'd want to keep it."

Your chest swells with warmth. "Then that's what you'll do," you tell her firmly. "And we'll all be here for you. Every step of the way." You offer her a confident smile, and she returns it with a hesitant curve of her lip.

"I'm going to have a baby," Sarah whispers again, but her smile seems impossible to contain as she says it.

You laugh, pulling her in for a hug, "You're going to have a baby."

Sarah tightly winds her arms around you, "I can't do this alone."

After so many years, you want to cry for the hundredth time in the past two weeks. This beautiful girl who loves so freely is afraid no one will love her enough to endure this trial with her. Her tumultuous relationship with her family aside, your new family has been torn apart, and she's finding out there's going to be a new and very dependent member.

"And you never will be," You promise. "This baby's got a village."

"Baby," she squeals. Your laughter bubbles up and washes over the room, blocking out the weight of the world for this moment—this moment between two friends and their shared joy, hope, fear, love, and life.

You'd decided you'd wait for Sarah to tell John B about the baby before you left the apartment. You had to. John B and Sarah would need privacy and space to grow their family. A one-bedroom was already too small for that task, and adding two grown adult roommates would worsen the situation. You'd already shared the bedroom with Sarah the night before when John B had insisted he'd take the couch. You couldn't keep that up.

You didn't know where you'd go, but maybe you could take Cleo's offer to stay with her and Pope. JJ would have to bite the bullet and stay with Kie at her parents. You'd figure it out. But you didn't want to be more of a burden than you already were on your best friends.

John B and Sarah had left the following evening to go on a walk, where Sarah would tell him the good news. You'd figured you'd use that chance to explain to JJ what was happening.

"Hey," you announce your presence, though it seems a bit unnecessary since you are both on opposite ends of the same couch.

JJ directs his attention away from his phone and to you, "Yeah?"

"So, I needed to tell you something," JJ must notice how serious you are because he shuts off his phone and tilts his body to face you. "It's about our living arrangement."

"You wanna stay with Cleo?" He asks. "That must be hard."

You weren't sure if anyone else had noticed how much separation from Cleo affected you, but apparently, JJ had enough insight to assume it would.

"No, uh, it's not that," JJ waits for you to continue. "But what I'm about to say is a secret. Like, a huge one. So no one can know."

This makes JJ's brows knit together in confusion. "Okay? What is it?"

"Sarah's pregnant." JJ's jaw drops with humorous speed before he begins to open and shut it. He's sputtering, unable to form a thought.

"Relax," You say, giving him a peculiar look. "You're not the father."

"She's pregnant? John B's gonna be a dad?"

You nod, letting him process this however he needs the time to. JJ sinks back into the couch as if he is being physically hit with the news.

"Wow," his hands run through his hair. "Parents. They're gonna be parents," JJ shakes his head, and you wish you could be in his mind at this moment. Is he being judgmental? Is he worried?

"Wait, are they?" He asks suddenly, sitting up straighter. "Does she want us to— does she need our help. Is that why you're telling me?" It takes you a moment to understand what he means.

"No, she doesn't need us for anything like that," you assure him, a bit caught off guard by his awareness of situations like these. JJ isn't the most emotionally intelligent guy, at least you don't think so, and his awareness of other potential options is a bit of a surprise. "They're going to be parents."

"Wow, that's… amazing," He mumbles. "For them. Could not be me, but good for them." You laugh, the JJ you know poking through from behind all the maturity.

"Yeah, agreed," JJ chuckles at your grave tone. "But that's why I wanted to talk to you."

"Right," He nods, suddenly remembering the start of this conversation.

"We need to leave. The apartment, I mean. They'll need their space, and we can't overstay our welcome."

"Where would we even go?" JJ rubs his hand against his clean-shaven jaw.

"I could stay with Cleo, and you'd probably hate this, but Kie's parents—"

"What? No way," JJ leans forward again, his expression tightening. "We're not splitting up."

"We aren't?" You ask dumbly. You had expected JJ to push back on leaving the apartment. It may have had just one bedroom, but it was better than any home he'd had before. Plus, it was much better than encroaching on the Carrera's property for him. You hadn't expected him to be concerned about you two going your own ways.

"We have to stick together." There's a certainty in his stare and an edge to his voice that has you second-guessing yourself. It pins you in place and leaves you defenseless. "Or none of this will look real."

Oh. Right. What else would he have been concerned about?

"I doubt Kie or Pope's parents would blow our cover," you say, keeping your voice light, hoping to conceal any disorientation. JJ gives you a pointed look, and you sheepishly correct yourself: "Maybe Mike, but we can find a way past that."

JJ sighs, not laughing at your light attempt at humor, "We're not splitting up."

"We don't have anywhere to go, though," You sigh. "Remember, you said it yourself, no one else will cover for us."

JJ's shoulders fall, and he gives you a look that makes you want to take back everything you've ever said. He looks so… fragile. You may have missed it if you weren't looking at him as closely as you are, but it's undeniably there.

"We cover each other," he shrugs, and with those four words, he speaks so nonchalantly that he eases the weight you've felt growing on your shoulders. He sighs again, leaning back against the couch. "I know somewhere we can crash."

You wouldn't have imagined going along with that uncomfortably vague statement a week ago, but now you had no other option. All you can do is follow JJ blindly, even though your trust in him is hanging by a fragile thread. For once in your life, you don't bother asking questions. You're too exhausted to try to piece together your next steps as diligently as usual. You'll figure it out later.

When Sarah and John B returned, you'd tried your best to arrange a celebratory dinner for them. You'd used the ridiculously expensive glassware Rafe had stocked the apartment with – because, of course, Kooks that could afford real estate on this side of the Island couldn't buy their own plates and cups – and put a very fancy peanut butter and jelly sandwich on each plate. It was all you could do, but you made Sarah's a double-decker for what it's worth. It hadn't made you feel great that you could hear her hurling the contents of her dinner from your spot in the living room (JJ had gotten a good laugh out of that).

It had taken a lot of convincing and even more tears for Sarah and John B to agree to let you go. They had reasonably questioned where you planned to stay, and JJ mentioned something about a Jim Buckley. The name meant nothing to you, but John B seemed to understand. John B had looked apprehensive but hadn't shut the idea down completely, which made you feel better. He'd even driven the Twinkie to drop you two off while Sarah turned in earlier than usual. You'd held her tight and whispered your promise to her again. You and JJ separating from them was only physical. Nothing could keep you away from that baby now that you knew they existed.

When John B pulls up to what looks like a dock, you step out of the car to give him and JJ privacy. They'reTheir connection is like yours and Cleo's. You've seen how they communicate without words and how sometimes the only person who can reel JJ in is John B. Saying goodbye will be painful, even with the sweet reminder of who you're all doing this for now.

You take the time to figure out where you are. The dock extends over a large lake, not the ocean. There'sThere are only a few man-made lakes in the OBX since most Kooks are in the market for real estate by the ocean. You notice a secluded mansion that seems like it touches the sky. In typical Kook fashion, it's humongous, but unlike most other mansions, the nearest house to it is a few miles down.

When JJ exits the Twinkie, his eyes are misty, but you don't comment on it. Instead, you'd sidle up to his side, your entire demeanor asking him what's next. You hate this– not knowing and not being in control. You never relinquish your control unless it's to Cleo, and it took a few years before you could get to that place with her. The itch for control is catching up to you.

"Why are we at a dock? Whose house is that?"

"That would be Jim Buckley's house. Used to maintain his boat for him when I was younger." You nod, waiting for him to expand on that, but he doesn't.

"And he's going to kindly let us stay with him?" You ask, a false sense of hope laced in your tone. You know that's not happening.

JJ snorts, "Yeah, right. No, we're gonna crash on this fine boat of his." JJ waves his hand in front of him, towards the water. You look at the dock, and there, tied firmly to a post, is a cabin cruiser. More specifically, a Yellowfin 54. You'd dreamed of having one since you were fifteen, and after moving to the Island, you would enviously look at each one you passed.

"We're gonna stay here?" You ask with a slight pep in your voice. You try your best to mask that little bit of excitement and focus on the issue at hand. "We can't. We'll get caught."

"Don't gotta worry about that," JJ shrugs, heading towards the boat. You follow him as he explains further. "Jim's usually flying internationally for business and the missus is usually miles away at Kelce's dad's place when that happens."

"She's cheating on him?" You gasp.

JJ waves his hand behind him, "It's fine. Jim's probably doing the same in, like, China."

"Um, okay. I'm going to ignore how you know this, but what about maintenance. If they're never here, it must be in horrible shape."

"I used to do maintenance for them, and I know for a fact they have someone take care of it every Tuesday at ten a.m., without fail," JJ offers, and you can't lie that your nerves are calming a bit. "He uses it when he's in town, and Janet puts him in the dog house."

"And Janet is Mrs. Buckley?" You ask.

"Yes, ma'am, she is," JJ stops right in front of the boat, turning to smirk at you. "I was wondering when you'd start your interrogation."

"Shut up," you roll your eyes and sidestep him to get up onto the boat. You don't take the hand JJ's offering you; instead, you stick your hand out so he can use you as support. JJ gives you a sarcastic smile but still takes your hand. He doesn't let go as he guides you to the front of the boat. Lifting the cushion of one of the seats, he pulls out a small key.

"Jackass still keeps it here," JJ mumbled, throwing the key up before catching it in his fist. He has that dangerous look on his face, the one he gets when he's winning a risky gamble. JJ leads you to a short, narrow door on the side of the boat. Before he places the key in the lock, he pulls you in, searching your eyes. He seems like he's waiting on you. For what exactly, you're not sure, but he doesn't deter his staring. You don't have to voice your concerns. He's used to you badgering him with your distrust.

Still, you say one thing. "JJ, someone could find us."

"I know," he nods. His voice is quiet but steady. He's grounding you again, tethering you. He doesn't cut into your concerns. Instead, he catches them and holds them with care and understanding. "You don't have to trust this, but try to trust me,"

"Impossible, I know," he says. A small laugh bubbles past his lips, his expression genuinely amused. He steps forward then, using the hand that's still clad in yours to pull you towards him. The smile leaves his face, but his voice softens as he speaks. "But will you try? For us?"

The air around you compresses, pushing you two together until there is space for nothing except a little spark between your chests. A spark ignited by the words Us. That word hits you like a bad wave wiping you off your board. In a literal sense, you are an us, two people in this together. But it means so much more. Like, after you step into the cabin, everything will change. There won't be a you or JJ. There won't even be a you and JJ. It'll only be an Us. One unit. For better or for worse, it's Us.

"I-I'll try," you stammer. JJ gives you a grateful smile.

"We'll lay ground rules, make sure no one catches us," JJ promises. There really is nowhere else to go, and all you can do right now is either give this a shot or sleep on the streets. "And if we get caught, at least the jails have cots." Or that.

You hit your hand against JJ's arms, and he pulls away, laughing. He takes two small steps away from you, but the spark doesn't snap. It grows. No amount of distance can extinguish it now.

He puts the key into the lock and opens the cabin door. You note that the door doesn't creek. He ducks his head and crouches to step inside, flicking the switch to his right. The dim light spills out around him. You follow his lead, his hand– still holding yours– pulling you through despite any lingering hesitation.

The interior looks exactly as you remember seeing it online when you would mindlessly scroll. The "lounge" area consists of a leather couch built into the floor, a sink with a microwave over it, a fridge under it, and two doors. If your research is correct, one door will lead to a full-sized bed, and the other will lead to a restroom that makes a porta-potty seem big. You'd dreamed of having a boat like this for vacations and fishing days. You'd never wanted it to be your home. After you'd left Terrance, you hadn't wanted to return to ship life, but at least it wasn't foreign to you. You'd know how to maintain it and make it work.

JJ strokes his thumb against the skin of your hand as he announces, "Home sweet home."

"Home sweet home," You agree.

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#jj maybank x reader #obx x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank angst #outer banks x reader #jj maybank #sealed 𓂁 ☼♒︎

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miz-chase · 4 months ago

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Remember how Temperance “monogamy is stupid” “marriage treats women as property” “heteronormativity is a harmful social construct” “it takes a village” Brennan got a house in the suburbs, had 1.5 kids, got married in a catholic ceremony, and generally got absorbed by Standard Tv Mom-Wife?

Good news, the writers of Bones have reached out and need us to write how this would have actually played out in queer non-standard ways. What actually happened?

My suggestions:

They don’t get married because their love is more than a state-recognized business partnership OR it is actually Brennan’s idea very early on, she makes a courthouse date last minute so they can get tax benefits. She does not wear a white dress, thank you very much.

Brennan keeps her apartment. She needs her alone time sometimes, and it’s hard for Booth to not take that personally. He’s the type to insist they sleep in the same bed even if he can’t sleep because she snores too much. It takes time to feel secure enough and recognize she’s not rejecting him when she needs to be alone. It makes times when they’re together that much more special.

Jared, Padme, Rus, Amy and the girls are way more present. It’s less a focus on the B&B household and more on the supportive network of everyone taking care of each other and each others kids. Same goes for Ange, Hodgins, and Michael-Vincent, who are always trading off whose house they’re staying at.

They take in foster kids, which is more important to both of them than needing to have a genetic connection. They both know what it’s like to need some love after being abandoned by their families. Maybe they even take in Jared’s kid, if things with him go south.

Parker’s gay. He comes out to Brennan first because he’s scared his dad is going to freak out, what with the whole Catholic thing. Brennan, who has no filter even on her good days, is confused and immediately outs Booth as being bisexual. Happy family ending where everyone gets a kinder sort of masculinity than the show allows.

When Brennan needs a break, or has moral scruples with how her own evidence is manipulated to incarcerate innocent people, she takes on projects that better suit her moral priorities. She joins efforts working on the American and Canadian boarding schools, the Magdalene Laundries and other similar mass burial sites. Booth is initially uncomfortable but then becomes emphatically supportive. The Church he believes in should never have done these things, so it’s his moral duty as a good Catholic to seek justice for those that the church wronged.

Similarly, Booth and some old buddies start asking some questions, poking and prodding the right people with the right kind of concerns. They end up putting together an effort to investigate American and ally war crimes in Afghanistan. Brennan is the perfect person to lead the research effort, and it’s excellent work for her students. Similar to the Church, I think Booth’s pride in the military can go hand-in-hand with trying to right it’s wrongs and hold it to a higher standard.

As far as the monogamy thing goes, I think it would be complicated to get there, but not impossible. It would take a long time for Booth to feel secure enough in their relationship to even consider it. I think it’s relatively easy for him to accept that Brennan and Angela have A Thing. I think, with some tweaks, there’s a future where, when Hannah comes through town, they all have fun together.

What else?? Please share your thoughts!!

#bones tv #booth x brennan #bonestv #idk man just make it gayer #also obviously marianne booth can go fuck herself

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seriesxwriting · 5 months ago

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Merry scroogemas

Paring- Rafe Cameron X kook reader

Series- Outer banks

Summary- You hate Christmas with everything in you but Rafe try’s to change that.

Warnings- Kissing.

Requests are open :)

Obviously- like usual my Christmas post is posted after Christmas…!

December the 1st

"How excited are you then?" Rafe came and sat down on my bed. I turned my phone off and rolled my head over to look at him. "It's December the first- it's about to be our first Christmas together- to be honest I thought you'd already have your tree up" he laughed but soon lost it once he saw my face. "What's wrong..." he asked me putting his hand out to pull me up. I sat up and shuffled closer to him, trying to figure out what to reply with.

"Rafe- I don't like Christmas" I told him avoiding eye contact at all costs. "Okay scrooge" he chuckled thinking I was joking. "it's my least favourite time of the year" I shrugged my shoulders looking up at him now, so he knew I was being serious. "You're being serious- nobody hates Christmas?" "I do..." I told him pulling back a little now. I know it was a very unpopular opinion- but it was my opinion.

"Come back" he wrapped an arm around my shoulders pulling me closer to him. "Can I ask why?" he whispered seeing that it was clearly effecting me. "That depends- if you wanna get deep or not" I shrugged my shoulders at my boyfriend. "Only with you my love" he nodded his head keenly and then laid a soft kiss on my forehead in comfort. "Well- my parents would often be so busy that Christmas was never a family thing, when I was little I went to a boarding school and- they never came and collected me on holidays" I began explaining.

Rafe never took his eye off me, he made it obvious he was taking note of everything I said. "When I reached upper school they took me out of my boarding school and sent me to our school- but nothing changed..." my eyes began to start filling up with salty tears. "They were always on long business trips over Christmas, and because i'm an only child I ended up being alone again- just in the house this time" I shrugged trying to shake off the tears. "Oh y/n" Rafe whispered closing his eyes.

'"Last year- my mum was at home for Christmas- dad had flown to Brazil for businness- I thought it was going to be different- but she didn't leave her office more than twice the whole day". "I'm so sorry- I had no idea..." he told me looking sad himself now. "No one does- no one knows- don't get me wrong my parents didn't do it because they don't love me- they just think that me having the material presents they get me is what Christmas is about, they didn't have presents when they were younger because they grew up on the cut" I replied to him.

"Have you ever spoken to them about it?" Rafe questioned but that just made me giggle. "Rafe suggesting communication? what have I turned you into" "I don't know- i'm shocked too to be honest" he joined in with my laughter. "But no- I haven't- money changed them they are very materialistic, their life is their work and nothing I say is going to change that". "I think I might need a strong drink after that, because you've just shattered my heart" "Oh Rafe" I sighed smiling.

"Ive grown very used to it" "You know you're making it worse don't you?" he swept his hand under my arms and pulled me against his body into a hug. "What's happening this year?" he whispered in my ear while holding me tight. "My dads already on a two month business trip and mum leaves on the 16th and comes back on new years" I told him, and then held my breath waiting for the sympathy about how pathetic it was to roll in.

"Then my house is your home from the 16th until new years" Rafe called out making me jerk away from him so I could see his expression. “No- Rafe I cannot impose like and especially not on Christmas” I shook my head vigorously. “Oh come on you’re not imposing y/n you’re family and family are supposed to be together on Christmas” he replied making his face go soft.

“Rafe- I don’t like Christmas- I’ll just bring the spirit down” I answered him sadly. “You light rooms up- you could never bring anything down”. I blushed under his gaze but still wasn’t sure. “I won’t enjoy the day knowing you’re home on your own” “but Rafe you don’t understand- I’m used to it it doesn’t effect me now- I like being on my own because I don’t like Christmas” I explained to him slowly so that he’d understand how serious I was.

“Will you think about it?” He turned his head and put it on his shoulder. “Yeah alright” I nodded giving him a weak smile. “Thank you” he whispered leaning in and kissing me gently. “I love you” rage murmured against my lips. “Not as much as I love you” I returned giving him a peck on the lips.

December the 3rd

“Hello handsome” I smiled as I opened the door. He stood there with a giant smile across his face as if he was plotting something. “Hello my love, you ready?” “Where are you taking me Rafe cameron?” I smirked stepping down onto my front door step to join him. Rafe embraced me and kissed my forehead. I loved how affectionate he’d been with me lately. It took him a while to come out of his shell but now he was always touching me.

“It’s a surprise, come on” he smiled taking my hand in his and leading me to his car. It was pretty dark now and Rafe had told me he had plans for us. But what possible plans could he have for us at 8pm on a Monday. He closed my door for me and then got into the drivers seat. As he began driving he asked me about my day and I asked him about his.

I hadn’t seen him since his offer to spend Christmas at his. We’d both been busy seeing friends and doing work. I enjoyed talking to him but I was also watching the road to see where he was taking us. But it seemed to be into town. Rafe parked in one of the car parks, it was rammed with people and cars. “I wonder why it’s so busy tonight?” I looked at him as we both climbed out the car.

“It’s a mystery” Rafe wiggled his eyebrows, I gave him a funny look wondering what he was up to. “Come here” he put his hand out and I clasped his one as we made our way into town. “It’s packed” I muttered looking around. “There’s top” I pointed through the mass of people. “Oh yeah” Rafe smiled seeing his friend, but he just squeezed my hand and we walked past the group of boys.

“Did you not wanna say hello?” I questioned confused for a second. “No my love, I’m here with you my attention is on you” he told me smiling down at me. “What’s the time?” Rafe asked me, distracting me from blushing. “Erm, twenty past eight” I told him looking at my watch. “Perfect, we made good timing”. “What time do we need to be there for?” “Starts at half eight” Rafe replied as we weaved through the crowds.

As we came to the main square a huge Christmas tree stood, it was unlit but there were loads of people crowed round it. “Rafe” I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow knowing what was going on now. “Yes gorgeous” he answered catching onto my tone. “Is today what I think it is?” I questioned as we came to a stop. “Depends what you think it is” he smirked knowing I knew what we were up to now.

“It’s the Christmas switch on huh”, Rafe chuckled nodding his head and pulling me close to his body. “Yes- I thought it might get you a little more spirited” “I see the Christmas lights every year Rafe, they’re always the same”. Rafe let out a little laugh again “well they might be a little different this year” “I can’t bet you fifty quid they won’t be” I sang back to him. Rafe put his arm round my shoulders and turned us towards the tree.

Soon everyone began counting down Rafe joined in with a huge grin on his face. I felt a wave of sadness that I didn’t feel the same excitement about the season. I felt like I was just brining him down. But my mind was distracted when the lights turned on. There was only one word for it. Gorgeous.

The lights reached all around the tree and the buildings, all different colours twinkling in the night. There were so many more this year, so many different shapes on the street lamps, snowflakes, Christmas puddings, Santa faces. The lights swirled round the drain pipes, and the guttering. I gazed around in amazement, the lights reflected in my eyes. I caught sight of Rafe, he wasn’t staring at the lights he was staring at me.

“How’d you know they were going to be different this year?” I laughed throwing my arms round his neck. “I may have pulled a few strings to make it a little more magical for you this year”. My eyes widened “Rafe Cameron” I shook my head in disbelief. “You know I’d do anything for you, I want you to experience a different Christmas this year” “does that mean you have some more tricks up your sleeve” I chuckled pushing up on my tip toes to get close to his face.

“Lots” he whispered giving me a small kiss. “Come on- I’ve lit up the whole town for you, let’s go walk down some streets” Rafe suggested putting his hand out for me to hold. I gave him a warm smile and grabbed onto his bicep as we began to walk round. I can’t believe he did this for me.

December the 7th

I knocked on Rafes door eyeing up the giant reef attached to the knocker. “Hello my love” he smiled opening the door for me and stepping backwards. “Hey handsome” I gave him a kiss as entered the house and began taking my shoes off. “I’ve told you you don’t need to knock anymore y/n, you’ve been around long enough to just come in- the house is yours” he told me pulling my coat off me gently and hanging it u for me.

“I know I know- but then i wouldn’t get my lovely greeting from you”. Rafe laughed at me shaking his head, “come on I set some stuff up for us” he said, I watched as an excitement flickered in his eyes. What christmasy task has he got for us to do now. I trailed behind rafe as we strode into the kitchen, ward was in there with rose and they both turned and smiled at me. “Hey y/n, how are you” Ward twinkle waving at me.

“Oh I’m okay thank you, how are yous” I smiled back leaning against the island. “Yeah not bad- just trying to organise Christmas as well as keep up with work” Ward rolled his eyes playfully. “We hear you might be joining us this year” rose joined in moving her eyes from me to Rafe. “Oh um…” “she’s still thinking about it” Rafe said for me, putting an arm round my waist. “Well, it would be lovely to have you here hunny, you’re always welcome” Rose nodded rubbing her husbands arm.

“Thank you- you don’t know what that means to me” I expressed watching them smile at each other. “We will leave you to it” ward nodded at the island table. I turned my head round seeing a huge box on the table. Rafe had taken everything out the box and opened the packaging. “Gingerbread house?” I looked at him shocked. “Yeah?” “I’ve never made one before” I blinked walking round to take a look at the box.

“Well I haven’t since I was a kid” rafe scratched the back of his head. “I guess it’s a little childish but it might be fun” “Rafe- I love it” I walked over rubbing his arm. “Thank you” I smiled getting excited now. “I just thought because you like doing your little craft stuff you might make a masterpiece” he joined me sitting down and we both got started picking up the pieces. The actual making of the gingerbread house I kinda sat back talking about what i’d been up to since I last saw him at the light switch on and let Rafe do the work. He seemed to know what he was doing.

But the decorating I was in charge of. We put icing all on the roof and the walls as well and sticking little treats on. Rafe had brought little sweets for us to use too, but we ended up eating half of them before they even made it onto the house. In the end it looked pretty good, we’d done a good job, I’d even go as far as saying it looked better than the boxes one. “Right, let’s take some pictures then we can make hot chocolate and eat it” Rafe rubbed his hands together.

“Mm- yeah sounds good” I nodded getting my phone out. “Smile handsome” I called out at him. We took some together and he took some of me, before Rafe went off to make us our drinks. I watched him smiling the whole time, wondering how I got so fucking lucky.

December the 15th

“Hello my love” I smiled at Rafe as I walked down the stairs, he was talking to my mum in the hall way. “Hello beautiful- you look lovely” he gazed up at me. “Thanks hun” I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “What you two up to tonight?” My mum wondered putting her hands behind her back. “I have no clue, Rafe seems to like surprises this month” I giggled, his hand wrapped round my waist. “She’ll like it, but it’s a bit of a drive so we better get going” “okay darlings, well I’ll probably have left for the airport hotel by the time you get back” she told me.

“Well have a great trip mum” she walked closer to hug me goodbye. “Merry Christmas darling, all your presents are under the tree, you’ll love them this year” she rubbed my arms. “Yeah- thank you” I nodded taking a step back. “Yours will be waiting for you when you get back” I told her feeling Rafe’s arm squeezed round me again. “Oh y/n me and your father don’t want anything off you” she shook her head. “It’s just something little- but we better get going- I’ll see you on new years”.

“Yes- you two enjoy yourself, I’ll see you later Rafe” she waved him off and walked off upstairs. And we left as quick as possible. “Wow- I can’t believe she’s that blind to how it makes you feel” Rafe shook his head baffled at my mum’s behaviour. “Christmas just isn’t a big thing in my family Rafe- it’s okay, she thinks she’s doing the right thing she’s going to work and buying me everything I could ever want” I shrugged my shoulders.

“I suppose” he sighed turning on the car. The drive was quite a while away, we again just spoke about what we’d been up to since we last saw each other on the 7th. Christmas wasn’t far now, and because my mum left tomorrow I had a feeling Rafe was going to want an answer tonight at some point. We drove about an hour away from home, and I really couldn’t put my finger on what we were doing tonight. Rafe parked in another car park, there were lots of people in this one too.

“What are we up to then” “come on” Rafe laughed throwing his arm round my neck. “You don’t have to wait much longer. Rafe lead me through the edge of town to the main streets and before my eyes stood a huge Christmas market flowing all the way down the street. There were stalls everywhere, loud Christmas music coming from the speakers. The lights weren’t as pretty as the ones back home but the market stalls made it very cute. “I’ve never been to a Christmas market”.

“Well I’m honoured to take you to your first one” Rafe rubbed his thumb across my hand. “Anything that catches your eye, it’s yours” “Rafe- you don’t have to do that I have my own money” I told him as we began the walk into the town center. “I took you here so I could spoil you, so anything you want my love, it’s yours”. “Well- we should probably get a drink while we’re walking around” pointing at a stall with a large sign.

“I’ll get a hot chocolate- what do you fancy?” He asked me turning us toward the line. “I’ll have a mulled wine since it’s Christmas”. As soon as the words came out my mouth I frowned to myself. Why was I going along with Christmas traditions? Maybe Christmas wasn’t so bad with the right people. “Of course gorgeous” Rafe answered me taking his wallet out, but I watched the smirk on his face, he looked proud of himself. He knew I was sliding over to his side.

Me and Rafe walked around all the stalls, trying things on, trying samples, buying things. Rafe got some every strong rum and he brought me a load of different trinkets. Jewellery, crochet animals, plants, little paintings, candela. We eventually had walked around and had brought everything we wanted, so we stopped off to get some food from one of the stalls and headed over to some benches to scran it.

“Rafe- I really enjoyed the Christmas markets” I smiled up at him holding my burger in my hands. “Correction- Rafe I really enjoyed spending your money”. I laughed nudging him “how dare you I offered to pay”, he joined in with the laughing. “You will never pay for anything while I’m around” he shook his head and stopped laughing. “So- have you thought anymore about my offer?”. I bit my lip staring at my food. “Okay Rafe- I’ll spend Christmas with you”. His eyes told me everything I needed to know.

He was so excited and that warmed my heart and soul. “You won’t regret it, you’ll have the best Christmas with us” he told me, practically bouncing in his seat. “I know handsome- thank you for everything you’ve done this month”, “well was i successful?- do you like Christmas a little more now?” Rafe slimmed his eyes at me. “Well- I’ve loved spending time with you and if that’s what Christmas is about then yes, you were successful” I nodded my head, it was impossible to stop my smile.

“I’ll take that”, Rafe leant in and softly kiss my cheek. “I love you Rafe- Merry Christmas”. His eyes widened in shock at my words but he still smiled. “I love you y/n, merry Christmas my love”.

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lillaydee · 4 months ago

Text

Head Over Heels Part 8

Jackson!Joel / Reader

Special Guest Appearance by a Certain FBI Agent who may or may not look a lot like Joel.

You left the loneliness of your home and headed to Jackson with Joel and the teenage girl he was with, hoping your new life would be less lonely. You should've stayed alone.

WARNING:

Non-canon Compliant, Pining, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Loneliness, Trauma.

MEGA WARNING: Descriptions of Attempted Sexual Assault.

@copperhalfcent @joelalorian @vickie5446 @peelieblue @nandan11 @liciafonseca @senoratess @denisanoemi @lovefreylove @heartpatch

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 7

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For someone who had been told all his adult life he was a good looking man, Joel Miller sure didn’t have a lot of luck with women. The first girl he had a crush on only became friends with him to get to Tommy. He lost his virginity under the bleachers of his high school to Missy Angelo, only to find out she had only done it to win a bet with her friends. His first actual girlfriend cheated on him with his best friend, and his college girlfriend was a ‘I wanna wait until marriage’ kind of girl, who loved to torture him with aggressive make out sessions before leaving him high and dry with some excuse or other after she had her needs filled.

It was after one of those make out sessions that he met Jen. He was horny, and she was just dumped. It was the perfect opportunity.

When she came to him with the news that she was pregnant, Joel’s world turned upside down. The girlfriend left, telling everyone he cheated on her. It was later revealed that she had been cheating on him all along. She didn’t really want him, just the reputation of being the girlfriend of the hottest guy in college. It made her very popular.

Jen, on the other hand, was not interested in him at all. He was the son of a small time carpenter from a small town. She was the daughter of a heart surgeon, whose manicures cost 50 dollars weekly, even way back then. The fact that she was still not over her married doctor boyfriend didn’t help either. So she kept Joel handy until she gave birth, leaving the daughter she didn’t want with him.

After Sarah was born, Joel found out the hard way that women were not interested in a poor single dad who had to drop out of college to support his daughter with a low income. As Sarah grew every single second, he focused his life on her. She became all he ever thought about.

There was one woman, Elsa, who stuck around for two years. He was a bit more stable then. His business was doing alright. He was making okay money. She was nice to Sarah. He actually thought he had found the one. He asked her to move in with him, but one week after moving in, her true colours showed. She kept suggesting ways to get rid of Sarah. Boarding school, living with grandma, leaving her at home while they vacation, the likes. The complaints became endless. He spoiled Sarah too much. He paid too much attention on Sarah. He spent way too much of his free time, not to mention money on Sarah. His weekends were all about Sarah. Sarah, Sarah, Sarah.

When he came home just in time to see her slap Sarah for accidentally machine washing a silk camisole, he threw her out. No more women for him. He lived his life as a single father and made peace with it, and that was that.

And then the outbreak happened. Sarah died. He didn’t, albeit not for the lack of trying. He focused on keeping Tommy safe, doing whatever he could to survive, gaining his reputation. What the heck. Not like there was a little girl he had to set an example for anymore.

That’s when he met Tess. She was a hardened woman, a police officer in her past life. She had to shoot her husband and only child when they turned on outbreak day. Joel and Tommy followed her around, doing her bidding.

Soon enough, their partnership turned sexual. But both of them were not interested in a romantic dalliance. Just business and sex. They didn’t even live together. It worked perfectly. She gave the orders, he did her bidding. They would have their romp at the end of a successful business deal and go home to their own apartments. Same thing tomorrow.

Enough years passed, and he grew to care about her. You couldn’t possibly save each other’s lives that many times and not care about each other. But he was Joel Miller. He was the guy who pulled off people’s teeth one by one, and later graduated to cutting someone’s fingers off for information. Heck, he cut off someone’s legs while they screamed for their life just because they sold him short once. People like him didn’t have the space for romance. You don’t cut someone’s ears off and then come home to a candle lit dinner and romantic love-making by the fire. Maybe if you were the head of the mafia when the world was normal, but not in this fungus-riddled world.

Women had always hurt him. And being hurt like that in a world like this? No. Not worth the risk. This world took the one person he would die for from him, and he wasn’t going to let his guard down, he wasn’t going to let it win. And he couldn’t chance the possibility that someone would get back at him through his lady. So, no missus for him. Just the one woman he answered to and slept with every now and again. That’s all. That’ll have to do.

He cared for her. Full stop. He loved her, of course, in the ‘hey-I’ve-known-you-for-years-and-you-saved-my-life-more-times-than-I-can-count’ way, but romantic love? Nah. And he knew she felt the same way about him too. At least, she did, in the beginning.

He knew she had fallen for him. She told him. He was honest, that he didn’t feel the same way, but he cared deeply about her. She took it well, telling him that if he ever changed his mind, she’ll be right there. Until then, business as usual.

He looked out for her. Beat up anyone who crossed her, and if anyone so much as laid a hand on her, that’ll be their life. So when she came to him telling him she had been having conversations with a man who lived just outside of the city and they could potentially help each other out, he went with her. He was not happy, but he went with her.

The moment he entered the vicinity, his hair stood on ends. He could feel something here. Something or someone was hiding here. He didn’t understand it but kept the peace anyway. For Tess. So he sat through the lunches and the endless conversations to make her happy. It’s good for business, she told him.

He and Bill were cut from the same cloth, it seemed. Neither liked nor trusted the other, eyes on each other at all times. It was because of this that Joel could feel someone was watching him and Tess. It was exactly the kind of thing he would do if the situation was reversed. He could feel this person.

But for some reason, he didn’t feel threatened. Wary, perhaps, but safe, all the same. Comforted, even. Which was ironic, seeing as he would’ve made sure this person was armed to the teeth if he was in Bill’s place, and he was pretty sure this person was.

That feeling he felt got stronger the more often they visited. And one day, a year in, you jumped from the tree house right next to him, on his right side, where his bad ear was. He didn’t see you coming, couldn't hear you.

He fell head over heels because of you.

When you took the camo blanket off and he saw you for the first time, Joel felt naked. Vulnerable. Exposed. It was as if you could see through him, although he very much doubted it. But he knew. He knew you were the reason he was feeling those things he felt. A prickling of something creeping all over his body. Even when he couldn’t see you, he felt you.

It was electric. That was it. That was the feeling.

Joel had to look away. In those few seconds he saw your face, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. He felt as if he knew you. Like he’d met you before. That was impossible, obviously, but he just couldn’t shake that feeling off. It flustered him. He had to look away, lest you turned him to stone.

On the way back home that day, Tess couldn’t stop talking about you. He wanted to tell her to shut up. He didn’t want to think about you. You scared him. What was this he was feeling? He had never felt like that before. And her talking about you endlessly was making it hard for him to get you out of his head.

He tried to talk her out of going the next time, even suggested she bring Tommy instead. She refused. Bill would never do business with them again if she did that. So he relented, going over time and time again, trying his hardest to stay away from you. He stole a look every now and again, his heart beats easing every time he saw your smiling face as you talked to the woman he slept with occasionally.

He lost his resolve once, thinking no one was watching. He was watching you water your garden while Tess was inside with Frank. He studied the way you moved, the way your hair blew in the wind. He caught a whiff of your shampoo once as you walked past him and he swore he almost passed out from his desperation to just bury his nose in your hair. He sat there on Bill and Frank’s porch, hoping the wind would blow some of your scent towards him so he could get that whiff one more time.

“You touch her, I’ll kill you.”

He had been so lost in his mind watching you, wondering what it would feel like to have you in his arms, he didn’t notice Bill watching him from his window.

“She’s special, Joel. She’s not for men like us. She’s beautiful, kind, funny, smart, soft, not one for a brute, a savage. She can fight, take care of herself, I sure would like to see a man take advantage of her just to see her finish them off with three of those delicate fingers, but she’s the closest thing I have to a sister, and I would die before I see her end up with someone like you.”

Joel walked away, snapped out of his day dreaming.

Bill was right, of course. What would someone like you want with someone like him? Sure, he’s sure you had killed before. Everyone had in this world, but he would bet his own limbs that you would never torture someone for information. You would never kill someone just because. He knew you wouldn’t.

He knew you were far to good for someone like him.

But that didn’t mean that he could just forget about you. He stayed further away after that, keeping his yearning for you hidden. Your name was always on his mind. Your smile, although never directed at him, was haunting his dreams. So he took to carving your name into pieces of wood he could find, just to have something with your name on it with him. Something he could hold on to. Maybe held before he went to sleep at night.

He kept up the habit, until one day, he managed to carve an entire piece of wood in cursive, ending up with a 3D printing of your name. He hid it in a box he kept his most precious belongings in, looking at it every single night, running his fingers over it again and again until he fell asleep, your name in his hold, placed over his chest.

He woke up one day to Tess studying it. He must’ve let go of it in his sleep.

“It’s really pretty,” she said. “You should tie a string to it, she could use it as a keychain.”

Her expression was unreadable, but she busied herself looking for a string to do just that. Joel watched as Tess tied a piece of black string on the curved E that your name began with, and pocketed it, telling him they had to leave for your place soon.

He watched as Tess presented the keychain to you. The way your face lit up made his heart expand. He longed to feel like that every day. The fact that something he created made you smile like that made him float on air. He wanted to make you happy.

Ever since that day, Tess would tell him about the things you wished you had. A movie, a book, anything. And the next time he went scavenging, he would make a point to look for those things for you. And every single time, you would jump and hug Tess with a squeal. Oh, how he wished to be at the receiving end of those hugs.

When Christmas time came, Tess would tell him about the things she planned to gift to Bill and Frank, subtly suggesting he should make you something. He didn’t pay her any heed at first, but she insisted, reminding him again and again of the next time they were headed to you, make her something Joel. They’ve been nice to us. I have gifts for Bill and Frank sorted. Make her something.

So he did. A bracelet, at first, with a letter spelling out your name carved onto each of the dices the bracelet was made of. He made you a matching necklace the next year. But only when Tess insisted. He always watched from afar as Tess presented them to you.

He and Bill may not get along, but he respected the man. He was never going to act on his feelings for you. He would never disrespect Bill like that. Plus, if your actions were any indication, he was sure you didn’t think of him that way. You hardly ever looked at him.

He had to visit alone once, Tess wasn’t feeling well, but he went anyway as they had an important item they needed to get. He snagged his foot on a root as he was running from a lone clicker, managing to kill it before it got to him. But his ankle was swollen. So swollen Frank insisted he stayed to rest it, radioing Tess to let her know of his delayed return. The man wasn’t looking his best himself, feeling tired all the time.

When he woke up the next day, his ankle felt a lot better, having been iced and bandaged well the night before. Never an idle man, he asked Bill if there was something he could do to help, seeing as Bill was busying himself taking care of a sick Frank. Bill asked him to help you in the vegetable garden, reminding him that he had his eyes on him.

So he helped you, stealing looks at you every chance he got, if only to capture your face with his mind. Every now and again, Bill would make his presence known at the window, a gun in his hands. Joel could only sigh and kept on doing his work, reminding himself that Bill was right about him. So he carried on, for years, carving alphabets of your name on little dices to replace the ones that broke, watching and yearning for you from afar, never acting on his crush on you, knowing that someone like him didn’t deserve someone like you.

That wasn’t the only reason, though. There was the fact that he was with Tess, sort of. She was the woman in his life. And try as he might, he couldn’t feel about her the way he felt about you. If he could choose to feel differently, he would. But he couldn’t. If she knew about this hopelessness he felt every time he thought of you, she didn’t make it known to him. As the years went by, their sexual relationship lessened, and he didn’t fight it. She told him it was age, she was getting on, maybe not in the mood as much. Other than that, their relationship remained the same. Still, he was ‘with’ her. The woman meant a lot to him, and he would never hurt her like that. Not on purpose. He was a one woman man, and the woman in his life was Tess.

That day Tess got bit, she quietly told him to take Ellie to your place. Take her to Bill and Frank’s. Go to Elena. Do this for me, Joel. Go to Elena. Take care of them, take care of Ellie. Take care of Elena. She looked at him then, her eyes pleading, sad, meaningful. In that instant, Joel realized something.

She knew. She had always known. And yet, she said nothing.

She gave him a teary smile, telling him to take this chance. Go to her, Joel. Be happy.

When he was hesitant, she launched into a rant about how she had never asked him for anything. Not even to feel the way she felt about him, so please, do this for her. The horde of infecteds were swarming the door, and he had no choice but to pull Ellie out with him, his heart heavy with the reality of it all.

As he watched the building burn, all he could think of was how much he had let her down. She knew. She knew he was in love with you. And she never said anything. The guilt of it all weighted him down. It was all he could think about. Tess, the woman who had been by his side for almost 20 years, the one who had saved his life more times than he could count, the one who gave him stability in this fucked up world, died knowing that he was in love with someone else.

So when you were on the road with him, he had to keep reminding himself that he had hurt the woman who was his partner all these years by loving you. And to remind himself that he was not the man for you, the savage that he was.

You didn’t make it easy, though. You were easy to like, and for someone who had been yearning as long as he had, it was a struggle to even look at you. He told himself to tough it out, he shouldn’t do this. Out of respect for Tess, for Bill. But every time you were asleep, he couldn’t help but take the opportunity to caress your soft cheeks, touch your hair, taking a deep breath to stop himself from doing more. Stolen looks, touches were enough. They would have to do.

He tried to at least be friendly with you. Engaging in small talks, but the more he tried, the clearer it became to him that in your mind, he hated you. He wanted to prove otherwise, but every time you were in danger, he found himself screaming at you. He couldn’t tell you the truth – that he was terrified something horrendous was going to happen to you. He couldn’t take it. Even the thought of it made him want to die.

He was aware you were affected by his actions. He could see you beginning to withdraw from him, spoke less to him, but every time he wanted to do something to reverse his actions, he was reminded of the hurt he had caused Tess. So he kept quiet.

When you got to Jackson that first time, he found out Tommy knew about his feelings for you. It was evident, apparently. According to Tommy, every time Tess mentioned your name, his face softened. Every single time. And that was exactly why he could never ever be with you. Out of respect for Tess. Tommy told him how stupid that was, that all Tess would’ve wanted was for him to be happy. No, Joel said. Never.

And still, despite his harsh treatment towards you, you saved his life. He saw you sit by him all that time, saw how worried you looked, how exhausted you were. One time, you covered his body with yours, trying to keep him warm. And even in his semi-conscious state, his body reacted, putting his arms around your body, caressing those soft cheeks and hair, still wanting to fill his need to touch you.

When you were knocked unconscious, he placed you on the mattress, knowing he had to go get Ellie. He knew you would want him to. He held your face in his bloody hands before he left, placing his forehead on yours, kissing you on the forehead, whispering he would come back for you, barricading the doors to the house as best as he could in his condition to make sure you would be okay. Safe. Until he got back to you.

He didn’t anticipate how long it would take to get to Ellie, and how weak both of them would be on the return journey.

That pile of burnt bodies he and Ellie came across turned his insides cold, more so than the winter. It wasn't an uncommon sight - people kill infecteds and burnt the carcass, just in case.

And then he saw the body, a few feet away from the rest, badly burnt. The body of a woman.

With your scarf and blanket by its feet and pack.

He felt as if his world shattered. He felt alone. Everyone important to him was gone, save for Ellie. He didn’t even know if Tommy was alive - things could have happened after he left Jackson. His body just ceased to function. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t sleep. His mind kept seeing the burnt body he buried. Your burnt body. He wept for you. He left you there alone. Injured, vulnerable. This was his fault. He did this. He was the reason you died. Were you out looking for him and Ellie? Did you suffer? Did the men do unthinkable things to you before they killed you? Did your beautiful eyes search for him, hoping he would come rescue you? Did you call out for him?

All he could think of was how much he regretted the fact that Tess died knowing that he was in love with someone else, and you died thinking he hated you, that he had left you to die.

He fell asleep one night after downing an entire bottle of whiskey. Sarah came to him that night, telling him she was alright, that she was happy, that she met Tess, and that she was happy with her husband and son. Nothing that happened was your fault, Dad. You need to go on, Dad, for Ellie. You don’t see it right now, but you will. You need to go on. Make things right.

He woke up feeling as if he could breathe again. So he did, only to be startled to see you, alive and well, but distant with him, outright telling him how aware you were he didn’t want you there. What you must have thought of him, he thought. But you were back, he had the chance to make things right, and he will. He promised himself that he would make it all right. Once you were all safe, he would explain everything.

But the domesticity he felt with you when you got back to Jackson scared the living shit out of him. All the women he’d ever had a romantic connection with in his life had betrayed him, one way or another. That, or they died. Tess died. And suddenly, as he was watching you serve eggs and toast on his first day of work, he couldn’t help but think.

What if you died, for real this time? What if he let himself be free with you, and you died? How was he going to survive? And he had Ellie to think about now. He almost let her down when he thought you had died. He gave up. What if he didn’t come back from that? What would’ve happened to Ellie? He couldn’t risk that happening again. Yes, Jackson was safe. But was it really? He still slept on his right, wanting to hear anything that might go bump in the night. He didn’t feel safe. Bad things could still happen to you. To Ellie.

So he pulled back. Just so that he didn’t fall too quickly. He needed more time. Just until he felt it was safer for him to tell you how he felt. Until then, he would settle for watching you sleep, going back to his habit of caressing your cheeks and hair, whispering good night to you.

You woke up one night and decided to put a latch on your door, thinking that the door he didn’t manage to shut well was broken. He tried. He tried to find you at the greenhouse, usually in time with Vanessa going for her shift. The woman, for some reason, thought he was there to walk her to work. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to push her away, not when Tommy and Maria continuously begged him to be less grumpy, to blend in, to be nice to the townsfolk. But you seemed to pull away from him further every time he tried to spend time with you.

Tommy told him to move on, go on dates, but he couldn’t. He knew the men in town would snatch you up the moment he did, and he couldn’t risk that. But weeks went by and he couldn’t find you anywhere. Every time he knocked on your door there was no answer. You were never at the greenhouse. He searched for you, desperate to find you, but his own busy schedule got in the way. And after what he said to Tommy about never being with you, he couldn't find it in himself to tell Tommy the truth, although Tommy seemed to read his mind just fine.

Tommy finally wore him down, and he agreed to go to Betty’s birthday party with Esther. He made sure he would be as undesirable as he could be, just so she would stop pestering Tommy for a date with him. She had befriended him under the guise of needing repairs in her house, but when she tried to kiss him before he left, he stayed away from her. The plan for the date seemed to work, she was absolutely disgusted by him when she saw how filthy he was but put on a good face when they got to the hall. He left her to go after you, returning home when he lost you. He stayed up nights waiting for you to come home just so he could see you, talk to you, but his tired body betrayed him, and he fell asleep before you came home. When he woke up, you were either gone or still asleep, you door firmly shut.

After his nephew was born, he had been trying to make it all up to you. You knew some of the reasons for his behaviour now, and he wanted you to know how much you meant to him. No more hiding. But you were hesitant to move back in with him and Ellie. Still, you were talking to him again, allowing him the privilege of walking you to and from work, even joking around with him these days, making his heart soar.

And here he was, after all that, standing in the hall as you said the name of the man who came in with your brothers the night before. The name he had heard Tess mention. A man you had a connection with those first couple of weeks after the outbreak, the man you never stopped thinking about.

As you and the man you couldn’t forget all these years later hugged, tears in your eyes, Joel felt his heart drop. Heck, even Ellie looked nervous.

“You know that grovelling I suggested?” Liv’s voice whispered as he stood there like a rock, cold realisation seeping through his body, “You’re gonna have to up the efforts. If that’s who I think it is, you’ve got competition, buddy.”

Fuck.

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Part 9

#joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #Jackson!Joel

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