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by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 7}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Summary: A letter, clear words, the work forged by skilled but aching hands, all of it helps you to heal from what had been one of the worst weeks of your life.

Word Count: 13.3k (!!)

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, age gap (reader is early 40's and joel is 57), pining, requited unrequited love, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, confessions, lots of feelings, light angst, hurt and comfort, fighting, two (2) satisfying slaps, joel miller's hands need their own warning, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), soft joel, pet names (sweetheart), serious conversations, apologies, references to child loss, minor character death, blood, talk of female anatomy, reader has no assigned name but has a commonly used nickname, lemme know if i missed any major ones!

A/N: SURPRISE, Y'ALL!! i was supposed to have internet installed this week but it's been delayed again and my local library is only open today and since queues make me nervous, i threw caution to the wind and yeah - WE MADE IT. this is the final chapter! i am so delighted and humbled by the responses to this fic. i put a lot of myself into olive and for everyone to root for her and cheer her on means so, terribly much to my lil heart. i love y'all and i hope this finds you well ♡

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The hush of cardstock is the only sound in the room as Joel shuffles through the recipes you had written down for him, for him and Ellie. The fancy loops of your cursive are faded, a little blurred in some spots and he regretted your time and devotion getting smudged by his lack of attention. He had been too slow to retrieve all the index cards where they had landed, flying into the air as you had run straight into his back. It had taken so long because Marsha hadn’t seemed to get the hint or his direct words that he was not and would not be with her the way that she wished for him to be.

But she did now. She had been picking Millie up when Joel had all but kicked the door in, shouts of needing help echoing down the street. The woman had flattened herself to the wall, eyes taking in your unconscious form in Joel’s arms. How carefully he maneuvered, how mindful he was to not jostle your body too much, how frantic his expression was even as he tried to explain what he could to the nurse and doctor who sprang forward at the sight. His brows were drawn together, worry evident as he explained to them your stitches from a few days ago had opened, how you had been coughing up blood before he found you. The fear in his strong voice when he detailed how cold you were, how unresponsive. All of it combined was a reflection of his care for you. Something only seen in his interactions with Ellie. And now with you.

Joel had felt pride surge in his chest at seeing the damage you had inflicted on the other woman, guilt flaring just seconds after. You had been pushed to your breaking point, not just by her but by everyone in your life. Evidence of the fight was etched across your body from the scratches from the woman’s nails up and down your arms, the tangled tresses of your loose hair, to the bruises that had blossomed along your soft skin.

The most notable with the tearing of your stitches. The stain of blood on your skin in places he couldn’t wipe it away, for fear of harming you further, even in your unconscious state. It had been three days, and you still hadn’t woken up. Even after the repair to the wound, a better stitch pattern was implemented and two blood transfusions. One from him and one from Tommy.

He hadn’t wanted to leave your side since he brought you in, but he had things he needed to take care of. The few people who interacted with you coming in and checking on you, him coming to spend each evening by your bedside and staying through the night. Maria was across from him now, Macon sound asleep in her arms as the clock ticking on the wall displayed the post sunset hour.

“Marsha will be interrogated at the next town meetings, for her behavior and words towards Olive.”

“Good.” Joel croaked, his voice gravely from disuse.

“Millie will be on next week’s patrol with you, per your request. Once she’s adequately trained, she’ll be added to the rotation.”

“If she takes to being trained. I have a feeling she might pretend to not learn anythin’ just to get out of it.”

“We’ll make sure she doesn’t,” Maria hummed in agreement, knowing more than Joel the small requests and complaints the woman has made in her time behind the walls. “It’s time some of the people who have been idle share the responsibility. Besides, Olive requested to be taken off patrol before. I’m sure she’ll double down on that once she’s recovered.”

“Please tell me she didn’t hate being forced to be my partner when Tommy asked. I don’t think I could ever apologize enough if it was somethin’ she didn’t want to-“

“Joel, she was okay with it, believe me.” Moving to stand, the woman reached to rest a hand on your legs beneath the blankets. “She was glad to feel like she was trusted enough to be asked. She never had any ill feelings toward you, even when she didn’t know you.”

She watches him, he can feel the weight of her stare on him as he continues to go over each of the cards contents. There’s a bag beside him, a small canvas thing he had loaded up with some spare pieces of lumber from bigger projects, scraps that he spent the evening hours whittling and carving as he sits beside you bed. He alternates between doing that and going over the cards, habits to keep him awake as he sits vigil and waits for you to return to him.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect when you came back. But…you surprised me.”

“How so?” He knows he was always a sore and heavy subject between her and his brother. Even more so when he quite literally stumbled onto their doorstep. He had been determined to change, to give back into the second chance at life he had been handed, for Ellie, for his brother– for himself. Aligning himself with the customs and way of life carved out in the plains of Wyoming. He’s glad he hadn’t fallen completely to the depraved, hallowed out version he had adapted to, had been forced to become with the loss of everything he knew, with the loss of his daughter.

“You’ve meshed well with the lifestyle we created here, got onto good terms with one of the best people we have here.”

He didn’t look up from the cards in his hands, he knew that. Deep down, he knew you hadn’t minded patrolling with him. But it was hard to understand with how messed up everything was at the moment and he lost himself to the circling thoughts of how hurt you had looked as you stood your ground with him a few days ago in your kitchen. But his head shot up when a whimper sounded into the air that wasn’t from the woman or his nephew.

You were stirring in the bed, eyes still closed. Hands shaking as they raised to cradle your middle, mind no doubt recalling the circumstances of your last waking moments. Joel’s heartbeat was loud in his chest, echoing in the spot where they had drawn blood from the inside crook of his right elbow. Macon gurgled in Maria’s hold, wide eyes cut towards you as you shifted a little underneath the blankets.

“Joel…” You murmured, eyes clenching shut tightly. You weren’t rousing, you were still unconscious, though your mind seemed to be in working order if you were dreaming. Joel sets down the index cards atop the blankets over you, moving closer to grip a hand with both of his, the other laid out flat to ensure the line of the IV didn’t get tangled or kinked.

“I’m here. It’s okay, you’re okay. ‘m not going anywhere, you hear me? I’m right here, Olive.” He soothed you as best he could, the wrap of your fingers around his stirring his heart to beat faster in his ribcage.

As he’s leaving the morning, a patrol that he would be taking Ellie out on with the approval of the council to begin her training as well, he see’s the shadow of two figures approach your room out of the corner of his eye just as he’s placing a parting kiss on your forehead.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t know anyone would be here this early.” It’s the sister and brother pair you had insisted on bringing back. The woman, Callie Joel thinks her name is, is holding a hand to her swollen stomach protruding out from beneath her long coat. It looks like it wouldn’t fasten with how far along she was. Nolan, the man who had been with you when this whole mess started was a step behind her and a bouquet of dried flowers clenching in his hand.

“It’s okay, was jus’ leavin’.”

“Look, Mr. Miller.” Nolan steps up to him, leaving a few feet of space as Joel turns to head to the door while Callie sidles up to take the chair he had slept in and scoot it close to your unconscious form. “I tried my best to tamp down the fight, but Olive, she’s…she’s a scrappy one. Was on that other girl before I could even blink.”

“Millie. The other one’s name is Millie.”

“Millie did this?” Callie questions from her spot holding your hand in hers, eyes wide. “She’s been so nice to me, I had dinner with her and her mom just last week…”

“Millie ‘n Olive don’t get along too well, bad history.” Joel hopes he isn’t overstepping your privacy by saying so, but if the two were intent on being at least friendly with you, they deserved to know that not everyone was so forward in their interactions with you. “Patrol gone wrong, they both lost someone important to them and Millie didn’t deal with it well.”

“She called her a whore, when she saw us talking.” Nolan explained, “Olive moved first and apologized, but all hell broke loose when Millie hit her back.”

“She what?” Joel felt anger burn hot through his veins, the implication of you being anything other than kind and thoughtful not sitting well with him. No wonder you had snapped, Joel hadn’t found out exactly what had occurred, the council stemming the raging gossip as best they could as soon as it began to spread. Reminding people to deal with personal issues in non-confrontational ways or punishment would be doled out and extra duties would be tacked on.

The two fell quiet, feeling the anger simmering in him. Joel’s face had darkened, brow furrowed deep and his jaw ticking as he tried to get a control on it.

“Y’all have a good day.” He manages before he’s out the door, his steps even and nearly silent as he makes his way out of the infirmary. He’s at Marsha’s in the blink of an eye, fist knocking against the wood of their front door.

“Marsha isn’t home, she’s serving out her punishment by taking over Olive’s morning shifts at the mess hall.” Maria’s voice calls to him as she strolls down the street. Macon is in her arms, but he’s fussing. She stops and places him in the baby carriage in front of her and quiets him with a pacifier. “Millie is out getting the rundown of how patrol works and what her responsibilities are.”

“Did you know that Millie called-“

“Yes. It’s been dealt with.” Maria’s voice implied she didn’t agree with what happened, that it was indeed being considered with much thought, not taken lightly with how it built up to the point of combustion in the town’s center on one of the busiest nights.

“Easy now, honey, there you go.” Tommy’s soothing voice allowed for you to feel less embarrassed about how slow moving you were, how long it was taking to trek from the infirmary to your house. His arm was around your waist, his other in front of him as he held onto your right hand for added support. “Joel will probably be knocking on your door the second he gets back from patrol and finds you gone from the clinic.”

“He can knock all he wants.” You huffed out, not too sure how you were feeling toward the man at the moment. Once you had woken up, the nurses told you he hadn’t left your side during the nights you had been there. Tommy and Maria sharing with you the way he had been frantic to find you the second he had found out about your fight with Millie. The decision of you no longer wanting to do patrol being portrayed as a punishment for your violent outburst. But the council held no real ill will toward you, having addressed the behavior you faced from more than a few of the townspeople.

“Marsha is due to cover your shifts at the mess hall, the early ones. Until you’re ready to go back.”

“Dunno, think she needs more ‘n a week or two tackling that hectic shift.”

“There’s my girl,” Tommy beamed, glad to know you weren’t too injured to show the side of yourself he knew.

As you turned down your street, Tommy let go of you at your insistence to try and support yourself. After a few stumbling steps, you managed to find your balance, even if your pace was still on the slow side.

“Joel ‘n I fixed your door. Well, we made a new one, actually. Old man did some damage to the other one when his big bulky frame was pushed into it by those storm winds,” He chuckled, most likely picturing the ordeal that was far more tense and serious than a mishap on Joel’s part. It had been…one of the hardest things you had to do, stand your ground and deny the man you had come to care. Especially in the face of him practically confessing to you that he shared in your feelings. “Cranked the heat up to get it back to the temperature you prefer. Even watered the plants for you, fed that stray that comes around sometimes. I think it found the crate you set up for it on your back porch.”

“You’re too sweet, Tommy. Thank you.” You watched as he unlocked the door and for the first time since leaving the infirmary you noticed how he was constantly shifting. His weight from foot to foot, his hands raking through his long, dark curls.

He helped you up the few steps of your stoop, his hands a gentle weight, arms ready to tense and catch you should you lose your balance. Once you were settled in your bed, a bottle of pain killers and a glass of water on your bedside, the man tentatively settled on the foot of your bed.

“I wanted to apologize, formally.” He started, brown eyes glittering in the midafternoon sunlight filtering in through the blinds. You leaned up from the pillows propped up behind your back and up against the fabric headboard, about to say something but he held up a wide palm to stop you. “You told me ‘n Maria in passing the behavior people have toward you. It was out of our control, freedom of speech ‘n all but…we should’ve at least tried to tamp it down more than we did.”

“Tommy, everyone has already done so much in letting me in, giving me a chance. I did-didn’t want to stir any trouble and it wasn’t real-really anything I couldn’t handle.”

“Honey…” He stands up and nestles himself between you and the edge of the bed, his back on the headboard right next to you. He brings you into his chest and kisses into the crown of your head as you return the embrace. something he hadn’t done since you appeared back at Jackson’s gates with blood covering you head to toe and the corpse of your friend draped over the back of your horse. “You deserve to feel comfortable, to feel safe. No matter what.”

The next morning, after a night spent tossing and turning, you shuffled down the hallway and into the kitchen without turning on a light. It was still dark out, using what little of the streetlight so close to the front of your house filtered in through the sheer curtains. When you sat at the kitchen table, you tried to set your mug down but there was a clatter as the bottom of it collided with something already resting there. And the space next to it, it seemed the whole table was covered in stuff, leaving no room for you to set it. Mumbling about people being in your house and rearranging your stuff, you shuffled over to the lamp atop the storage hutch’s middle shelf.

But you’re shocked when you flick the light on and turn back around to the table. It’s…covered. Every inch of the surface taken up by small stacks of what looks like intricately carved plates, serving trays, spoons, spatulas, and small figures that look like birds moving in a downward swoop. The coffee still in your hand splashes a little to the tile beneath your bare feet, starting you as it bounces up to kiss the skin of your ankles. But you pay it no mind as you absently set it on the hutch beside the light and move to the table with watering eyes.

It had to have been him. Joel.

The plates are beautiful, vaguely floral shaped and stained such a deep mahogany. They’re not too heavy, though they are very sturdy in your inspecting hands. Turning each one from the three separate stacks of them, each a different size from dessert to salad to serving plates, reveal a small J.M branded into the wood. Each of the leaf shaped serving trays reveal the same, though they are heavier and a bit harder for you to turn over in your weakened state. Large smoothed edged bowls are nestled in each other, the topmost one holding matching large serving spoons made your heart lurch and your stomach swoop.

The carving had been lovingly attended to because each rivet and swirl, each boarder and flat surface, it was all so seamlessly smooth. On evert single piece littering your table.

Tears are trailing down your cheeks to rest atop his intricate creations. The sight of two sets of spoons and two sets of spatulas held together with twine making you have to clap a hand over your mouth as a sob wracks through your body. The memory of hurling the ones you had requested from him flashing too bright and loud. You had taken something crafted by him and thrown in across this very kitchen, disrespecting the time and attention he had devoted to the request you had made.

Collapsing into the chair, you let the emotions of the last week take over you. Your coffee is lukewarm when you rise to retrieve it, but you twirl a carved bird in your hand as you sip from it, tears waned for the moment. That’s when you spot the large, flattened pieces on the other side of the table.

Cutting boards, three of them. Each one with a branding on the thick sides to label them individually for herbs, vegetables, and meat. The entire surface of each it sealed with a coating, but beneath it on the corners are floral patterns that you squint your eyes to take a closer look at. Gasping, you realize he had depicted the blooms often found on olive trees. His voice suddenly rings in your head as your mind recalls something you weren’t even conscious for but had filed away.

‘I made you one…I made them all for you. All of them, every single one….C’mon, sweetheart. You gotta let me save you so you’ll have one. I’ll give you anything, I’ll give you everything. Olive, please.’

‘I’m here. It’s okay, you’re okay. ‘m not going anywhere, you hear me? I’m right here, Olive.’

The tears flow, with no end in sight as you reach a shaking hand for the note you see laying atop the largest one.

‘Olive, I know I’m shit with words, I know I’ve sent such mixed signals with everything. But I want you to know, need you to know that seeing you is the best part of my day, of every day. Even if it’s just across the mess hall, across the street, as I walk home from patrol and see you in the window of your kitchen with a soft smile. The talks we have, the questions we share, every single word we’ve exchanged as made me feel worthy of the things you think of me, for the first time in a long while.

You are such an extraordinary, kind, thoughtful person and I am so lucky to have made it here to Jackson to cross paths with you. I can’t change what happened, but each hitch of your breath, each tug of the brim of your hat over your eyes, each moment spent with you makes me want to wrap you up in my arms and keep you close. I don’t want the first time you hear the words from me to be in writing, but, Olive. I fear I’ve fallen for you, and it’s made me such a fool. Please take these gifts for what they are, a representation of how I think of you every second of every day. Of how you inspire me to be a better person. Of how much love I have for you. J.M.’

Your coffee goes completely cold as you sit at the table, reading the note over and over again.

The gentle knock on your door kickstarted your heart, fluttering hard in your chest as you knew who was on the other side of the repaired wood. You turned the burner off on the stove top, shifting it to rest atop one of the cooler ones. You called for the man who held your heart to ‘wait a second, please’ before you turned to the table and reached for one of the serving bowls, spooning out the steamed contents of the pan into it and placed it back among the others already atop the table. The table was full, dishes coloring the spread laid out across the table. The rest of his gifts had been carefully places in the hutch along the back wall, some of them displayed behind the glass of the topmost part.

Toasted sandwiches cut into triangles rested atop one of the leaf serving trays, the one you had just filled up with three different types of steamed and roasted vegetables. A glass pitcher of fresh juice you pressed earlier a deep red and shining in the flames from candles interspersed between the trays and plates. You nervously ran your hands down the front of your apron, a worn but loved patterned thing that wrapped around the back of your neck and at the back of your waist.

The brownies looked a little thick, now that you took a second to consider them. A rich buttercream piped into a swirling tower amid them stacked up on one of the larger flower plates. The midsize ones set in front of two chairs with empty glasses and clean utensils beside them. All set up, all waiting.

For him, for Joel.

Moving to the door, you paused and took a deep breath to calm yourself, the titter of shyness you weren’t sure you would ever overcome when it came to the man on the other side. Reaching for the lock, you clicked it out of its setting and twisted the handle to open the door.

Joel was stood there, silhouetted against the bright winter sun, the broadness of his shoulders and the volume of his curls on display so close for you. His head had been hanging, one hand on the wall beside the door. And when he looked up to catch your eyes, your breath hitched and you felt your fingers twitch at the urge to pull him close. To let him make his written words a reality and cradle you in his arms.

“I-I got your no-note. And the – the things you left f-for me.”

“Did you,” He cleared his throat, hand moving from where it was supporting him to fall to his side, clenching and unclenching in that own nervous habit he had. His eyes roved up and down your body, taking the image you were making in your doorway. You felt like you looked okay, but your hair was a little frizzed out from the heat of cooking. And you were so, incredibly self-conscious. He was such a handsome man, and you were…just you. His voice was shaky, something you couldn’t ever recall hearing from someone normally so controlled. “Did you…like everythin’ alright?”

“It’s all so perfect. Th-thank you.” You smoothed your hands down the front of the apron again, nervous and unsure of how to approach him even as your body hummed in anticipation from the thought of it. He loved you. And you loved him back.

“And the- the note?”

“Y-yeah.” You couldn’t bring your eyes up to meet his, too self-conscious with how all uncharted everything seemed to be.

“I’m so fucking sorry. I-“ He surged forward through the open door, but his boots scuffed as he cut the movement short. You had unconsciously stepped back, nerves alight from the last time you had been approached. Muscles twitching, your arms tingled with the way you tried to relax from the sudden tension that had flooded your entire body. Fight or flight activated. You could see the way his throat bobbed with the nervous swallow he took before sighing out a deep breath. “Olive, I swear to you, I- you’re so good. The sweetest, prettiest thing I’ve had the pleasure of knowing in my time and if you’ll let me, I’ll be a good man for you. I’ll be a good man with you.”

“Joel, I-“ Your words choked off into a sob, tears trialing hot down your cheeks as your emotions spiked and cascaded over you. Hands trembling as you did reach out for him, fingers wrapping around the unzipped edges of his thick jacket. He moved into you, his own hands coming up to cradle your cheeks as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m right here, I’m with you. Not goin’ anywhere unless you want me to, okay?” He holds you, letting you bury your tear-stained face into his neck. The flow of them still falling from your eyes dampening the fabric of his flannel.

“D-do you want some lunch?” A shy smile pulled at your lips, heat blooming in your chest even as the tears continue to fall.

He seems to release all of the tension in his shoulders as he sighs out something relieved. You can tell he’s a little confused by the question, but he wasn’t going to turn it down. The opportunity to spend time with you, to talk to you. He had come here, after all, not even knowing where you two stood after everything. Fresh from a patrol, you could smell the lingering scent of hay from the stables on him. The leather from his gloves sliding along and holding the reigns of his horse. Nodding, you finally manage to meet his eyes and your breath hitches even as a pang of worry echoes in your chest.

“H-how was patrol?” You wait for him to take a seat before you go to pick up the pitcher and pour him some of the juice you had made. His hands are a soft hush over yours as he takes it from you and pours himself a glass before reaching for your own empty one with a lopsided smile.

“It was good, took Ellie out for her first one. She’s been buggin’ me about it since the start of winter.”

“Is she going to be my replacement? I don’t want her to feel like she has to if she’s not ready.” His eyes move over your face as you spoon steaming vegetables onto his plate and then yours.

“Maria agreed with me that Millie should be trained up, she’s starting with me next week. It’s part of her punishment for instigating the fight.”

“Oh.” Another thing for the woman and her mother to hold against you. You worried for a second of how much damage you had done to her in your near fugue state but then realized if she was okay enough to start patrol then she was far better off than you happened to be.

“We don’t have to talk about that or we- we can, if you want to. Just…just want to talk with you. About anything.” About anythin’, about nothin’.”

The conversation isn’t much from then on, but it’s enough to hold his attention. You’re tired, so incredibly tired and lethargic from the emotional morning you had, from putting all the food spread over the table together, not much of it left after Joel devours a lot of it. Starvin’ he had said through a bite, pink tinging his ears as you offered to make another sandwich for him. He had assured you everything you had made was enough and now a half pot of coffee sits in mugs in front of you each, brownies bitten into after dipping it in the frosting you had made.

As soon as his two were swallowed, he turned beseeching, wide eyes to you and you found moving to stand between his legs. His arms were so warm around you, the food and his company weighing you down in the best way as you wrap your own around his neck. His face is buried in your chest while you press a kiss to his steel curls, something that worries you for a split second before he sighs out a small ‘you’re so soft, sweetheart’.

“I-I want to talk more, but,” Your weight sagged against him, his arms tightening around you to help keep you on your feet. “I’m so tired, Joel. I think I need to lay down.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand, lemme just- I’ll clean up lunch and get out of your hair, go on and rest.” But you didn’t move, your breath hitching as you leaned back enough to peer up at him. Your eyes surely gave away how drained you were, but you weren’t quite yet ready to let him go. Even if things were a little stilted and there was so much to discuss. Right now you just wanted to lay down, to get off your feet and relieve some of the tension on your stitches.

“W-will you stay?”

“Of course.”

He follows silently behind you, boots thudding on the hardwood flooring of the hallway. Each step matching the beating of your heart. Through the door and into your room, you realize he must’ve already been in here, it was so tidy and the laundry that had piled up was neatly folded atop your dresser.

If he’s just as nervous as you are, he doesn’t show it. Seemingly taking things as they come, letting you shrug him from the flannel you had unbuttoned. When you move your hands to the buckle of his belt, one of his large hands covers both of yours. Looking up, you reassure him nothing has to happen and that you aren’t ready for anything to happen but you don’t want the denim on your clean sheets. He nods, letting you continue to disrobe him. A shaky laugh falls from his plush lips as you notice the line of him through his boxer briefs, it twitches under your quick glance, and you feel a swoop in your own stomach in response.

He asks if you need to change to, offering to turn around. But you grip his wrists and bring his hands to the ties at the side. It’s a loose thing, to help you manage to move around better, the prospect of pants and a belt too daunting despite the season. He carefully lifts the fabric from your body, his eyes on your face the entire time, even as the clothing falls to pile on top of his. With a nervous giggle, you lead him to the bed and you both get comfortable underneath the covers. It’s early, not even the sun has set, but neither of you seem to mind the time.

He's settled against the pillows when you reach out a hand on your normal side of the bed, fingers tangling with his as you lay slightly on your side toward him. The bandages around your middle are obvious underneath the camisole you wear with your underwear. He’s facing you too, his other hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I…I want to.” Your words are barely above a whisper, as you take in the image he creates beside you, filling the empty part of your bed with his broad frame. His steel curls flattened on the pillow, his warmth only a few inches away, his eyes soft and watching you as you collect the words from your mind to fill your tongue. It had been something you yearned for since that first brush of his hand against yours, that first smile you managed to pull from him with an offhand comment, from the first moment he asked you a question in return to one of your own. Even if someone else had shown you the same kindness, his would be the one you sought after. “Be with you.”

“I want that too, sweetheart, more’n anything, but…I hurt you. I know that, I was careless in my attempts to be careful, to not push you. To…surprise you with what I wanted to be the first thing I gifted you.”

“Tommy told me. You know I thought some kids stole that piece of the trunk?” Your eyes glitter with a hint of mirth, teasing tone light and reminiscent of times past. It’s fleeting, the bone deep exhaustion settled in your body not only physical but mental. “I…Joel, I worry about…everything. All the time. You deserve to the chance to thrive here, for Ellie to thrive here and…being with me would-“

“I’d choose you over the town any day, you’ve gotta know that. Me and Ellie, we’ve been through a lot but we’re tough, you don’t gotta worry about us. I know…that people see her lack of manners and anxious tendencies as something that needs to be fixed. Maybe, yeah, the little troublemaker could stand to hold her tongue sometimes but she’s so young, she’s got a lot to unlearn from being raised the way she was. She’s a good kid, she’s good but you are too. We’ll take it slow, because I haven’t done this dance in while, hell, ever really. And I want to do it right, I want to be what you want because I definitely know you don’t need me.”

“I haven’t needed for anything in a long time, but Joel Miller believe me when I saw my days are better when they’re spent with you. Even…even the bad ones to an extent.”

“I’ll apologize a thousand times.” He tightens his grip, tired eyes trained on them. There’s a sadness to them, the depths of which he had let you glimpse once before. Loss, pain, devastation in the wake of when the world has broken and then turned into. You share in that sadness, having lost the person you had devoted your life to protecting, having lost the life you had just begun to flourish in before it was ripped from your hands, having lost a child that you could still hear crying in your sleep some nights…

The words are on the tip of your tongue, the need for comfort from the one person you wanted it from, needed it from. It was true that you had been complacent before him, not concerned with the things people felt the need to pursue in the lives they felt safe enough to pursue here in the town. That he stroked yearning in the very core of who you were, something you hadn’t ever experienced even back when the world was thriving and bustling as it once had been.

“Can we j-just kiss a-and start to move for-forward?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think I exactly deserve that right now…” Your face falls. The small, shy smile dipping and the sides of your mouth dropping into a frown as you feel the burn of tears prickle again behind your cheeks. The rejection hurts, even if you understand why he feels that way and agree with him to an extent that this situation isn’t going to magically fix itself.

“But I do.”

He doesn’t even think to argue, not with the way that he’s leaning close to touch his soft lips to yours as soon as the words leave them.

“I’ve gotta get goin’, sweetheart.” Joel’s whisper roused you, so close you reached for him. Long fingers curling around his wrist, nails lightly scratching the soft skin there. He felt the cumulation of inching out of bed slowly and quietly to not wake you as the vain attempt it was. He should’ve known his efforts would be fruitless, his resolve chipping away to nothing when you breathed his name out on a sleepy sigh. “I got training patrol. Be back early this afternoon, bring you something from the mess hall, alright sweetheart?”

You only hummed in response, lips pressed against his wrist now, sending tingling trickles of sensation all over his body at the easy way in which you displayed your affection for him now. It had been a couple of weeks. Two weeks of you making dinner one night, then walking him through another the next day. Of coffee in the mornings when he wasn’t busy, the never-ending list housed on the spiral notepad in his back pocket present in only the worn fabric over his pockets, the actual thing mysteriously gone. A break for the season, he has said when you asked him, palming the fabric of his back pockets one day.

As you lay in bed, dozing back off in the wake of his departure, Joel is outside the gates with a nervous Millie astride a horse beside him. They stop on as Joel figures an open field a few miles away would be the best bet for practice. Far enough for the sound of gunfire to not echo back and alarm people but close enough to rush back should something go awry.

“Know anythin’ about guns?” He looks over to the younger woman, her eyes wide and her head on a swivel as she constantly takes in her surrounds. He feels a little bad that she’s so on edge, but the only way to make her more comfortable is to get her out more and more. Allow her to see that it doesn’t have to be all bad. But he does understand her reaction, she’s never been outside the walls, had never been outside the town that it was before the walls went up. She had been younger than you when the world shattered, had people to look after her and care for her.

“My daddy taught me how to shoot them when the world fell apart. But that was…a long time ago now.”

“Okay, well, we’re gonna see what suits you better. On patrol we use shotguns, but a handgun will do in a pinch. The key is range, keeping any threat as far away as possible.”

“Yes, Mr. Miller.” She watches him closely as he removes the shotgun slung around his back. He checks that the safety is secured and he holds it out to her as she moves to stand beside him at the beckoning of his hand. He walks her through the general mechanics of the gun, firm in her not placing her finger on the trigger until she was ready to shoot.

“Are you right or left handed?”

“Um…I favor my left.” He hands off the gun to her, telling her to practice her grip on the large gun while he rummages in one of the packs attached to his saddle. He’s got a cloth bag that he fills with snow and ice that coats the ground, propping it up a good distance away on top of a long dead tree stump.

Time passes and her aim gets a little better, though she’s taking too long to line up her shots. Joel reminds her to just take a breath in and shoot as she exhales. But the words cut off as he sees movement on the horizon of their spot on in the field. He’s off a ways from her, by the target he had set up for the woman to practice on. He’s turned to hold a halting hand up to her before he takes his own gun out from the holster and puts one of them down.

Another sprints from the cover of the forest nearby, but he’s focused on taking down the other two far too close for comfort. Just as he turns to take out the one closing in on him, it lunges and he’s struggling not to fall with the sudden weight slamming into him. His gun goes flying and he curses out as he tries to fend it off with his arms, the snapping of its mangled teeth loud and far too close to his face.

He wishes he had spent a few more minutes with you in bed, pressing his lips to your forehead to your cheek, to your plush lips, to any part of your body he could as the bullet ripped through him and pain sparked hot across his entire chest. Through it, he manages throw the stunned thing to the ground, another shot flying from across the field to land directly in the back its head. Joel is looking up as he bends down to retrieve his gun, his other hand pressing hard to the burning in his shoulder. Millie is too focused on him to see the blur running toward her, too late in her shifting attention as it grips her shoulder tights. Taking a deep breath, Joel tries to focus as best he can to line up his aim and take out the single Infected that remained.

He shoots and it goes down.

His shoulder throbs and his vision darkens at the edges.

“Joel!” You shout, simmering panic making you forget common manners as you burst through the door leading into the main exam room of the infirmary. There are three beds lined up on the opposite wall, other rooms set up for more serious cases that required overnight stays. Millie and Joel are settled into two of them, the younger trembling and holding her right shoulder while Joel is pressing a kerchief to his front, blood soaking it through.

Marsha is already plastered to the side of her daughter’s bed. Making no noise whatsoever, which was just as uncomforting as you realized how pale she they both were. Blood splattered over Joel while Millie looked relatively unharmed.

Millie launches into a jumble of words as she gets up from the bed, but you stop her in your tracks with a chilling look over your shoulder as you go immediately to Joel’s side.

“You need to back the fuck up, Millie. I told you I’m not engaging with you anymore, now go back to your own bed and mind your business.”

Turning from them, your eyes land on Joel and he’s barely able to keep his eyes open as he lays across the bed. Your heart stutters, as does your voice the closer you get to him.

“You two are just perfect for each other with your penchant for harsh words.” Jealousy was ugly on the older woman, making her act out towards you but more concerningly towards Joel. He hadn’t done anything wrong, even in the moments he had let his anger flare around her and he scolded her for her manipulation and childish behavior. He had told you all about it, about every interaction between them to tide your hurt feelings and assumptions about them. He hadn’t needed to do it, but he had wanted to be completely transparent. To share with you the things he experienced.

“And you would be just perfect for recognizing harsh words, wouldn’t you?” You fire back, not even bothering to look over your shoulder at the woman who had caused so much grief and anxiety. Your words seem to stun her, as she doesn’t rebuff you in anyway, but you feel guilt flash at the kneejerk reaction, still so worried about upsetting anyone or instigating anything remotely unfriendly. But Joel was bleeding and it you were far more worried about him at the moment.

“What ha-hap-happened? That’s so mu-much blood!”.” You ask him quietly, concerned with how his unseen injuries could be affecting him. His fingers twitch, letting you know he was trying to reach out for you. You sidle up beside him, hands reaching for his left as your wide eyes take in the expanse of his naked chest. The nurse has on pink stained white. One of the nurses bursts through the open door, ignoring the tension in the room, quickly getting to work with the tray of equipment she brought in. Her pristine gloves immediately take on a pink stain, blood gushing over his front as she digs a pair of long tweezers into a large bullet hole. She exposes in his right shoulder once she peels back the collar of his jacket and cuts away the tattered collar of his undershirt. “J-Joel, did you g-get ambushed by In-Infected? Or was it peop-people?”

“Was an accident.” He grunts out, hand tightening over yours as the nurse works to stall the bleeding.

“Millie sh-shot you?” You feel ire bubble up ugly and thick, heart beating hard at the thought of Joel out there with no protection other than the person in question, the person who had no idea how to begin to fend for herself or an injured person beyond the walls. She had been so young when the world broke, a few years younger than Aiden had been when you took him as your responsibility, his parents being the first to turn in the restaurant.

“Oh, would you shut up with that god-awful stuttering? Grown woman can’t even speak properly in a moment of crisis.”

“Mother!”

“Making a bad situation worse by simply being here, why don’t you let the nurse take care of him and just leave?”

“Mother, enough! That is no way to talk to Olive, she puts her life on the line every time she goes out beyond the walls. She and Mr. Miller have helped to make this a safe place, you should show her respect and leave her be!”

“Millie Antoinette, that is no way to speak to me.”

“You’re going to lecture me on language with the way you’ve been slinging backhanded insults about Olive all these years? Blaming her for something completely out of her control, berating her for her stutter when you know she can’t help it because the whole town makes her feel like she’s walking on eggshells.”

“This conversation is not over, we will continue this at home.”

Finally turning to look over your shoulder at the way she began to take out her frustrations on Millie, your eyes were set hard and your displeasure was obvious as you took in the way Millie’s good arm was being held far too tightly by the woman.

“Why do-don’t you just keep my na-name out of any future conversations you may have. You’ve caused enough damage, your own daughter paying for your actions and getting injured because of it. Joel getting injured because of it. No one is to blame but you and the influence you’ve lorded over her all these years. Twisting and tainting the memory of the man she loved, the man I devoted my life to protecting and ensuring he got to live a somewhat normal one after the world fell apart. He wouldn’t have wanted her to harbor such ill feelings toward me, toward what happened. But you turned it into something to use against me and you hurt her worst of all, teaching her it was okay to behave like such a child!” Your

You’re breathing heavy by the end of your outburst, finding your voice after stuttering through the first words. Unconsciously reaching for and tightening the hold on Joel’s hand through the entire exchange. He squeezes it in reassurance, through the nurse’s ministrations.

“You tell ‘er.” Joel slurs as the nurse secured a large patch of gauze over his would, betadine staining the edges of the material. The action of pressing down the tape around the corners making him hiss out a pained breath and your attention focuses on him once again.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you ungrateful little-“ You could feel her approach you from behind and you let go of Joel’s hand, not wanting to jostle him should she push or shove you. She was about your height so when you swung your hand out, your palm landed right on her cheek with enough force to turn her head as the sharp slap echoed around the room.

Red blossomed bright on her skin. Her fingers twitched and you landed another hit without thinking before she could make a more intentional move.

“I know you were not about to touch me,” The feeling of your lip lifting up in a slight snarl was unpleasant, but you couldn’t help the visceral reaction to the woman after everything she had done.

Even in the wake of trying to be polite and cordial with her when you thought her and Joel were a thing, she had shown you thinly veiled niceness in return. Her eyes always watching, much like a hawk stalking its prey. But you wouldn’t be her prey any longer, unwilling to play the part she had bestowed upon you for no good reason. You weren’t a malicious person, you weren’t a violent person. Not anymore. You were kind and thoughtful and did everything you could to be nice and help out where you were needed or wanted, and you would not put up with the woman any longer.

She raised her hand up once the shock of your quick movement wore off and you used the back of your forearm to knock it down, your hand sliding down her arm to capture her wrist in your grip. Her widened eyes found yours and you hoped, fleetingly, that she was unnerved. She cried out when her wrist began to smart underneath the force of your grip, trying to pull it from you but you didn’t budge. She was a fool to think using her free hand to pry at the fingers you had wrapped around her to no avail. You saw the thought for her to raise it at you flash across her face before you felt Joel’s hand gently pull at the back of your sweater.

“That’s enough, Marsha.” Maria’s voice was harsh, cutting into the scene suddenly. “Seeing as your daughter is in good hands, let’s have a little chat.”

The woman’s harsh expression, the twist of her mouth about to shape around a degrading insult, the furrow of her brow as she focused on you, it all fell away the second she realized she had an audience.

The nurse tending to Joel moved silently from Joel’s bedside to Millie’s as you released Marsha from your hold to follow behind Maria.

“Olive, I am so sorry. For everything. You’re right, Aiden wouldn’t have wanted any of this. I-I feel so…badly for how I’ve ignored you all these years when I should’ve been there to comfort you. You lost him too.” Millie cries as the nurse tends to her bruised and swollen shoulder, there now that Joel is taken care of. There was a large bruise marring her skin that was around angry looking welts, scratches that looked like they hadn’t broken the skin, no doubt from whatever occurred outside the walls. You tried focus on her, but it was hard with the adrenaline of confronting Marha thumping harshly through your entire body, Joel could surely feel the trembles where he held onto you.

“We were practicing shootin’ and a group of five or six of ‘em came outta the trees.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you began to peel back his opened flannel and shoved up the shirt he had on underneath. Hands frantic as you felt all around his body for signs of a bite. When you brushed against his groin to move down to his legs to check underneath the denim, you noticed he had fallen quiet. Looking up at him from where you were inspecting his shins, you clocked the way he rested the inside of his wrist over his zipper and belt buckle. His face was tinged a little pink at his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

“You could’ve led with that!”

“I’m okay, sweetheart. Millie shot the one that almost got me, but the first shot missed and then she took it down. She didn’t see the one comin’ up behind her cause she was so focused on helpin’ me.”

“Just lay back,” You croon sweetly, gently pushing the bulk of him to sit atop the bed.

“Yes, ma’am.” Joel groans, adjusting his hips as he scoots up to lean against the plush headboard.

It’s soft everywhere in your room, from the fabric of the headboard to your sheets and covers, to the dried flowers and sheer curtains hanging over the windows. He feels swaddled in the best way, completely wrapped up in the little world you’ve created in your space. The mix of him seen interspersed between your many books lining new shelves he crafted for you to replace the old, creaking ones worn down over time. A carved serving plate he had made for you, atop your bedside table and housing a tube of hand lotion, a note left from him the other day when he had to leave in the early hours. One of his flannels hanging up from a set of floral hooks he had made to go on the back of your door.

He was just a present influence in your home as you were in his. From the multiple bottles of oil scattered about his stove top, to the leftovers clearly labeled and stored in his fridge, to the pair of underwear that had ended up nestled with his in the top drawer of his dresser. The very ones you wore underneath his shirts when you slept over in his bed, making the sheets smell a heady combination of you both that had him seeing you in his dreams even more.

It had been a slow dance of homemade dinners, of nights spent in each other’s bed, of searing kisses and soft words shared between you both over the last two months. Both healed from the events that had allowed for the confusing and heartbreaking one to shift to this one, where it was obvious you both wanted each other, both had so much adoration for each other. But you were still so shy around Joel, never letting things go further than wandering hands sneaking beneath clothing.

But tonight, you were feeling so encompassed by the need to see him, to touch him, to be seen and touched by him in return. Tommy had let slip it was your birthday tomorrow when he asked if you were still coming around his and Maria’s for dinner. Joel had been confused why you hadn’t shared that with him, you knew when his birthday was after all. And everything that came tangled with the date.

“Joel,” You whispered against his lips, having moved to hover over his lap with your arms atop his shoulders. His hair had grown long, the thick locks brushed back by his large hands to swoop into gorgeous curls behind his ears and over the back of his neck. Nearly brushing the tops of his broad shoulders, he groaned out as you toyed with the ends of the long locks now. Nervous energy made it hard to keep your hands still and you confessed quietly as you ran your fingers through the curls. “I…I need to tell you something before we- before we, um, do this.”

“What is it, sweetheart?” His eyes blink open, concern and worry glinting in them as he takes in the way you’re worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “We don’t have to do nothin’ if you don’t want to or aren’t ready. Just wanna be with you, no matter what.”

You start and stutter a few times, the words trailing off as your emotions spike and memories find their way to the surface. But it was the right thing to do, to share this part of your past with him. The potential for the mood to be ruined all to glaring as you realized it would be one of the heavier things you shared with the man who had become you partner in every definition of the word.

“Joel, I…I don’t have, um, I don’t have all my…parts.” Waving a hand over your lower stomach, right where you rested over his own. His confusion was obvious as he focused on the part of your body in question, his plush lips parting as he contemplated how to better ask for clarification. But you leaned back a little, your thighs tightened around his hips as you did so to pick up the hem of your camisole and unbutton the jeans you were still dressed in. A faded but thick scar ran from the bottom of your belly button, swooping below it in an imitation of a smile and then down in a straight line from the middle to disappear beneath the band of your underwear. It was completely healed, but still pink in discoloration.

“The doctors at the QZ we briefly stayed at in the beginning of everything…they did a hysterectomy after I had my…son.”

“Olive…” His hands raise from where they were around your hips, shaking slightly as he pauses in his reach to caress the marred skin. His eyes flash up to meet yours in a silent question for consent and at a small nod, he brushes the knuckle of his index finger over it. Shuddering at the soft touch, you watch the way emotions flit across his weathered face.

“They weren’t nice about it, I still…I still have pretty vivid nightmares about it because there was very little anesthesia, something about rationing the drugs and it…it was one of the most painful things I’ve had to endure. But…I thought you-you should know because I know you have some years on me, and you said you don’t think…an accident would happen and you seemed genuinely concerned because of my age. But it wo-won’t because of this.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel presses the palm of his right hand over the scar, the warmth of his skin soothing just as much as the kiss he placed on your cheek. “You’re…you’re okay though?”

“As okay as I can be about it,” You consoled his worry, breath hitching as he gently caressed the skin beneath his hand. “I waited until I was healed a year, when the threat of infection was long gone, then I took Aiden and…and Ezra and I got us the hell out of there.”

He didn’t ask how you lost Ezra, he didn’t berate you for your choice to leave the QZ, he didn’t ask how you had even ended up in that situation in the first place. He didn’t do anything but slowly move to where your back was on the bed, and he was hovering over you. Soft kisses and the brush of his mustache trailing over every inch of skin he could see. His fingers slid beneath the thin straps of your top in a silent question, and you sat up enough to allow him to life the garment from your body. Willing to show yourself to him, to take the offer of his soothing comfort. His breath puffed out at the sight of your naked chest, his fingers skimming up to brush against the supple skin and hardened peaks now on full display.

He clocks the way your fingers move to the buttons of his flannel and fumble, prompting him to take over for you to push it off his own shoulders, his undershirt disappearing along with it to the floorboards. But before you can move onto his belt, he’s gently pressing you back to the bed and pressing the plush softness of his lips to your body, trailing lower and lower until he brushes them so lightly over your scar.

Your breath hitches and you can feel the small smile as he takes his time to worship your body. To sooth the emotions he must know it took to confess something so big, to engage with him in this way even if you wanted to. Mind’s always tickin’ he would tease, no heat behind his words, but adoration.

Fingers skimming over soft skin, the callouses of time and skill a heady sensation over it ahead of his lips, he slowly shimmies the undone fabric of your jeans down your legs. He takes the time to undo and step out of his own pair before he’s back on the bed, attention focused on your legs as he begins to move up, up, up. Only giving you the barest of chances to take in the thick line of his hard cock as it twitches beneath dark fabric.

His fingers slide underneath the waistband of your underwear from where his palms rest wide on your upper thighs, his mouth suckling the plush skin before him. His lips feel like heaven, like finally stepping through your front door after a long shift, like a hot bath after a long day, like a breath of fresh air after being in a stuffy room. It feels like home. Startling slightly at the sudden press of his nose to your clothed core, you feel more than hear the rumble of his chuckle.

“This okay, not too much?”

“Not too much,” you assure, lifting your hips to allow him to drag the fabric down. Heat blooms in your chest, worry for not being as pretty as someone else or as groomed as you used to be. But all of your anxieties and insecurities fade away as you look down and see the way his eyes are trained on your glistening cunt. He groans out as he drags the beck of a knuckle over your puffy outer lips, reveling in the jerk of your hips at the light contact.

“’s pretty, sweetheart. So perfect.” Is all the warning he gives you before he’s spreading you open with both of his hands and burying his face between your thighs. A long, warm wet lick with the flat of his tongue from one end of you to the other has your head thudding against the pillows and your hands searching for purchase in his hair. Pleasure sparkles all over your body, glitters behind your eyes as he tastes you, suckles that little bundle of nerves, as he gently glides two of his thick, warm fingers right inside and curves them up.

His name is a strangled sound puffed into the air, your breath hitching in the way he admitted to loving so much as he begins to pet your inside walls with his fingertips, his lips latched around your clit. His patchy scruff and mustache adding to the feel of him against your skin, against the most intimate part of you he’s taking his time in pleasuring. It takes everything you have to lift your head enough to peer through bleary eyes to find him already staring up at you. His pupils blown so wide there’s no hint of the deep brown they’re made up of. His brow is furrowed in concentration, the tops of his cheeks barely visible a deep hue of pink as he worships you.

While still holding your gaze, he purses his lips and sucks, turning the sparkles of pleasure into hot waves as they overtake you. Your body isn’t your own any longer as it tenses, back arching clean off bed, your thighs clenching around his ears. Your lost in the force of the pleasure he pulled from you as easily as breathing, taken every moan and sigh as signals to what you liked best, listening to your body like he was meant to. It’s no longer yours but his.

“They’re we go, so good, sweetheart. You taste so good,” He murmurs as he helps your through the crest before pulling again to palm at himself through his underwear with one hand, the other holding your bucking hips down to clean every last bit of your release from where his fingers are pulled from you.

Reaching for him, you tug at him, urging him up to his knees so you had run your palm over the trail of dark hair that disappears below his waistband. He moves his hand from where he’s holding himself through the fabric as your fingers sneak below and touch him for the first time. His hips cant, pressing firmly into your willing hand.

“Take these off, please.” You whisper as you wrap your hand around him, barely able to touch the tips of your fingers with the girth of him fully hard. He’s hot against your skin, velvet soft over the rigidness of his cock. Finally seeing all of him as he pulls the fabric down and pushes it past his thighs. You let him go for him to toss them over the side of the bed, eyes taking in the stretch of his body through the action.

He’s peppered with freckles over his tan skin, chest covered in thick hair that’s the same steel grey of his curls, thick thighs tensed with the way he sits before you on his knees. He’s littered with scars, some thin and crisscrossing over each other, some raised thick to disrupt the smoothness of his skin, though none hold the same untold story of the one at his temple. The one he lets you brush softly before sleep. But they don’t take away from his beauty, they enhance it and let you know without a doubt he’s a fighter.

His cock is thick and long, ruddy at the tip and bobbing despite the heft to kiss his stomach as you eye him up and down. Every inch of him is beautiful and you tell him with a sigh, body singing for him to come back to you. Locking eyes with him, you see his own insecurities wash away at the wonder and admiration you gaze at him with.

As soon as you move to reach for him, he’s doing the same. Mouths connecting and laying his body over yours to feel every bit of your skin against his that he can manage, your legs parting to wrap around his waist. You gasp at the bump of his tip to your folds, the breathy sound turning into a moan when he grinds down against you, his hands tangling in your hair as he swallows it straight from your lips.

He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he reaches down to grip himself, guiding the ruddy tip to your entrance and holding his breath for the barest of seconds. You nod, unable to form words so wrapped around him, so covered by him, to consumed by him and what he means to you. Twin moans decorate the air as he pushes in, the girth of him stretching you and causing heat to lick at every single nerve.

It’s soft and slow, sensual the way he moves against you. Taking in the moment for all that it is, showing you in the most intimate way what you mean to him as you feel how deep he gets with every thrust. But when you moan out for him to go harder, to go faster – he willingly obliges. The slow roll of his hips shifting into quick snaps against yours, a hand gripping your thigh over his shoulder as he presses down in such a delicious way. You can tell you startle him when you cry out, the head of his cock catching that perfect spot, as your hands scrabble at his shoulders and your nails dig into the freckles skin of his broad back.

Sighing, you take a moment to stretch out your shoulders once you remove the apron from around your neck. It’s well into February and you’ve take back control of the morning shift at the mess hall.

Marsha had done a…well, she hadn’t done the best, but Maria had stepped in the week before you had been due back. To ensure everything was exactly the way you preferred it. It had been a lot of long early morning shifts on top of staying through the lunch service. You had tried to stifle your amusement at Maria complaining about how fast the woman had tried to get through cleaning tasks to get home before the sun set. None of it had been good enough for Maria, knowing that you dedicated yourself to making sure things were not only clean but ‘Olive clean’ as she termed it. Turning the whole dining room and setting up the kitchen for a smooth open the next morning since dinner was normally left to the individual households or the Tipsy Bison.

Part of her punishment was formally apologizing to you and thanking you for your service to the town, but it hadn’t happened. You weren’t holding your breath for it to happen, either. It wouldn’t undo all the anxiety and hesitancy you still had even now interacting with anyone outside of your very small circle.

“Miss Olive?” The sudden voice of someone peeking their head through the swinging door that led into the kitchen caught you off guard. “Oh shoot, I am so sorry! I didn’t meant startle you.”

“Oh, it’s okay, just lost in my own head. How can I help you?”

They step inside, an older couple that comes at the same time everyday, enjoying the quiet before the rest of the residents make their way into the dining room.

“Just wanted to say it was a good meal this morning. We really appreciate all the work you put in providing for the town. Glad to have you back in the swing of things.”

“Oh! Well, th-thank you very much. I’m glad you enjoyed today, had a couple friends urge me to include the pastries.” They nod at you, waving before turning away and disappearing back through the door. A smile graces your lips as you shrug on your coat and wrap a scarf around your neck. The kind words help you to trudge your way through the built up snow from the night before, none of it having melted once the sun rose. The winds are still sharp, piercing in their added chill to the air.

Your home is nice and toasty when you enter, intending to shower the splash of porridge that had gotten you, sinking into your skin even after you had wiped off. But you pause when you catch the scent of fresh coffee and hear a distant grunting coming from your back room. Instincts taking over, you reach for the bat leaning up against the corner behind the front door.

“Hello?” You call out, unsure of who would be in house since Joel was supposed to be on patrol with Ellie. Maria and Tommy wrapped up in council meetings with Macon dropped off at the school to be watched over.

“Jus’ me! Shit-“ A loud thud cuts off Joel’s words and you’re rushing down the hall to find him crouching on the floor, hands busy holding the framework of a shelving unit where it had tilted over. “Hey, sweetheart, wanted to have this done by the time you got back.”

You had torn out the old shelves of the back room, the wall smoothed and painted over a few days ago when you had tried to reorganize everything and one of them came crashing down. Ellie had been over a week or so ago, indulging in your vinyl collection as she did homework while she stayed the night, Joel on an overnight patrol. Apparently, she had shared with him the scary moment that prompted the change to the wall.

“Are you okay?” The words rush out as you move around him to help push the large structure back onto it’s base. He sighs as he stands, knees cracking from the added weight of the wood against him as he tensed and braced against it. When he did, your eyes rove over him to ensure he really was okay. Then the bump on his forehead catches your attention as he looks over to you. It’s red and slightly swollen.

You see the small scrape on his cheek, blood beading up along the thin lines.

“Damn thing just shifted as I was adjusting the line up. ‘m okay, promise.”

But you close in on him, hands cupping his face as you pull it down to you, brushing your lips lightly against the bump as his hands wrap around your waist. Shifting down, you kiss just below the thin scrapes, not wanting to pull at them or irritate them further before reaching for a kerchief from your back pocket and dabbing lightly at the blood. Pulling back to peer into his eyes, you see the almost shy way he’s looking from you to the shelving unit.

“There,” You press your lips to his next, his eyes fluttering shut at the swipe of your tongue against his plush bottom one. He swallows the sound that bursts from your chest as he pulls you close. He tastes like the coffee you had smelled when you first walked through the front door. Humming out an, “All better.”

His grin is bright, the dimple in his right cheek fluttering your stomach as you catch sight of it hidden in his scruff.

“All better.” He parrots before shifting you both so your back is to the wall he had been working on installing the shelving unit against. “But you ain’t supposed to be home yet. Your present isn’t ready.”

“Present? I didn’t ask for anything, Joel Miller.” You crane your head around to try and look at what he was doing, too concerned with him to see what he had been trying to do exactly. But he brought a hand up from your waist to grip at your chin and he halted the movement. “And aren’t you supposed to be on patrol with Ellie?”

“Traded off with Tommy, told ‘im I had something important to do today.”

“Joel…”

“Nu-uh. You’ll have to wait to see it, birthday girl. Macon is due for pick up in an hour,” You huff a laugh as he bends his knees to lift your weight and toss it over his wide shoulder. Hair falling loose around your face, it’s impossible to see anything as he struts out of the room and across the hall to the bathroom. He sets you down atop the vanity counter with a light of his own at how disheveled your hair got.

“So pretty,” He muses quietly as he brushes it from your face and tucks it behind an ear. Heat creeps up your face, still not used to such open compliments from the handsome man. Stepping away for a moment, he fiddles with the shower knobs to get the water going, ensuring it’s the perfect temperature that you prefer. He helps you to disrobe, trailing his lips over every inch of your upper body as it becomes exposed before ushering you into the stall with a parting kiss. We’ll head over to Tommy’s for an early dinner once I’m finished up here, yeah?”

“Yes, of course.”

Dinner was a small affair, Ellie using one of the recipe cards you had made for Joel to attempt her hand at a casserole and a cake. The noodles were far too mushy and the cheese was a little too crusted, but you wouldn’t trade her bright smile as she set it down with a flourish for anything in the world. The cake was a touch better, the frosting smooth in most places and the perfect amount of sweetness to counteract the rich chocolate she had been adventurous in trying out. Two candles were lit atop it after meal, her smile infectious as you thanked her and reached to squeeze her smaller frame to yours.

“Alright, alright. Now make a wish and blow them out!” She was excited, Macon imitating her as he bounced in your lap.

“Macon, want to help me?” He gurgled his agreement, barely able to hold his head up and only for short bursts of time. But he pursed his lips as you leaned closer to the cake and blew. He made a sputtering sound, bubbles forming at the corners of his lips and everyone laughed as he seemed shocked at the smoke lifting from the now spent candles. You looked over to Joel, catching the soft smile he was sporting as he watched on.

But you were both in your home now, having left at the assurance of dinner being cleaned up and the kitchen tidied. You were standing in the back room, taking in the sight of what he had been working on all day. Floor to ceiling shelves had been installed on the wall that was shared with the kitchen on the other side. The supplies you kept for the harvest from the olive trees aesthetically placed in the cubbies.

“Joel, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much.” You felt the heat of him as he walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle. His deep voice was so close as he hooked his chin over your shoulder. He guided you out of the room and across the hall to your bedroom, waddling his frame around yours as he refused to let go.

“What’d you wish for, sweetheart?” He whispered, as if it was a secret he was hoping to be privy to, your breath hitched as you turned in his arms and snaked your hands around his neck.

“Nothin’, just…for everything to keep on the way it has been. I’ve got everything I need.” You leaned up and kissed him, his hands tightened around your waist, and you giggled as he dipped you a little with his enthusiasm. You could feel his own smile as his lips moved against yours and you breathed out one last laugh before pivoting your bodies toward the bed. He let you, so willing underneath your touch.

The next morning you both rise early before the sun, helping each other dress and then walk hand in hand toward the stables, boots crunching over the thin ice that had formed overnight. Just as you lead Lowry through the gates, Joel astride is own horse, he turns to you with a lopsided grin.

Your eyes trail over him, landing on the worn fabric of his back pocket, the spiral top of his notepad tucked securely inside. It turns out the faded patch was your business after all and you smile at him in return as he speaks.

“So what’s your favorite movie?”

You answer him honestly, earning a huff of slight exasperation for your answer. Turning the question on him as the sound of steady hoofbeats and soft conversation flows over the open plains of your morning route.

previous chapter || end

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alotofpockets · 1 day

Text

Press conference | Mary Earps x Lioness!Reader

Where Mary and the team help ease your social anxiety that is triggered by a press conference

A/n: I can't find this request anymore, but if you requested this, thank you!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.7k

-----

You should’ve known that scoring a hattrick in a crucial game would get you a lot of attention from the media, but in the moment you had been solely focussed on playing the best football you could and getting your team the win. But once the final whistle blew and you were hugging your teammates on the field, a staff member took you to the side and led you to one of the interview booths placed on the pitch.

The panic on your face as you walked with him to the reporter was immediately noticed by your girlfriend. Mary dropped the conversation she was having instantly, and made her way over to you.

“So, y/n, scoring a hattrick to get the team back in the lead, that is incredible. Can you walk us through it?” Your eyes were everywhere but the journalist or the camera. When you noticed a familiar pair of boots standing in your line of vision, you looked up and locked your eyes on Mary. She gave you a reassuring nod. With your eyes focussed on her calming ones you attempted to answer the question. “Well, we were 2-0 behind, and we had to win.” Mary watched you with pride, which gave you a little more confidence to continue your sentence. “We fought back hard, and I just happened to be in the right places at the right times.”

Mary shook her head with a proud smirk, you were always one to be humble. Focussing on the team effort rather than your own accomplishments, something she loved dearly about you. As the questions of the reporter continued on, she saw you getting more anxious. With one pleading look her way, she was by your side. “What a match huh?” Mary chimes in with her arm around your shoulder in comfort.

Where you struggled with social anxiety, your girlfriend thrived in social situations. You were happy to have her by your side, so some of the attention would be away from you. Mary interacted with the reporter and all the voices around you moulded into static sound as your eyes unfocussed once more.

Not visible from the view of the camera, you were trying to ground yourself by playing with the fabric on the back of Mary’s jersey. Mary knew you were struggling, so she ended the interview by saying, “If you don’t mind, we’ve got some celebrating to do.” The reporter said of course, and after a quick thank you, Mary guided you away.

“I- I can’t-” Mary held you closer to her side. “I know baby, we’re not joining the team, we’re going inside. I’ve got you.”

Mary led you to the locker room, which was empty as your teammates were still celebrating on the field. When you sit down in your cubby, the reality of the moment fully comes crashing down, making your breathing start to be irregular. Mary kneels down in front of you, “Hey baby, eyes on me.” She lifts your chin, and places her other hand reassuringly on your knee. “Follow my lead, alright?” You nod and breathe along with her, slowly getting your breathing back to its normal pattern.

When you were wiping away your tears, your captain walked in. “Hey, I saw you two wander off and wanted to check if everything was alright.” Leah sat down besides you while Mary was still tracing patterns on your upper thigh.

“Yeah, I’m alright. My anxiety just got the better of me during the interview.” The team knew about your struggles with anxiety, and had been there for you every step of the way. “Alright, take your time here, and let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, okay?” YOu smile and nod, “Thanks Lee.”

Once you feel ready again, you head back to celebrate the quarter final win with the team on the field. When you were walking around the stadium connecting with fans, you noticed either Mary or Leah were only a few steps away from you. Strangely your social anxiety often stayed away when you were just interacting with fans, maybe because you once were the little girl in the stands waiting to meet your favourite players.

Back at the hotel you were desperately in need of some quiet time, so you went to your room immediately. Your roommate Lucy joined you, the two of you were talking when Leah knocked on your door.

“Hey so Sarina wants you to do the press conference with us tomorrow. I wanted to give you a heads up, so you could prepare yourself.” The panic you felt earlier instantly came back. A press conference was even worse than just a camera and a reporter, here a room would be filled with reporters, cameras and microphones.

Both Lucy and Leah noticed the signs and stepped into action. Lucy texted Mary before she sat down besides you, “I used to hate anything media related as well. It made me so nervous, but over the years I got better with it.” Leah sitting on your other side chimes in, “Yeah, I felt the same way. Maybe we can help you prepare for tomorrow, so it will be less scary?”

When Mary joined, the four of you went over some basic questions that were often asked so you could prepare some answers. They also each told you about their strategies to stay calm and grounded during press moments. So, when it was time for the press conference, you at least had the slight feeling like you wouldn’t just shut down entirely.

You wave to the crowd and instantly find Mary and Lucy in both corners of the room. Mary’s words played in your head. “You’ve got this, baby. Just focus on me if you start to feel anxious. We’re all here for you.” Leah walks behind you, “Remember, we’ve all been there. Just take it one question at a time. You’re not alone.” She whispers in your ear, and with a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder, she sits down in the seat beside you.

The reporters started by questioning Sarina about the line-up for the final. Your eyes met Mary’s, who watched you with a confident smile on her face. She sent you a thumbs up which made you smile. Sarina being questioned first gave you some time to get used to the room of people.

“Sarina, can you walk us through the process of choosing tomorrow’s line up?” A reporter asks. “Certainly. Like always we considered the strengths and tactics of our opponents, as well as our recent form, and the health amongst our players. As it’s a final against a strong team we aim to play a balanced lineup that can adapt both defensively and offensively.”

The reporter thanks Sarina, and the next reporter is pointed out. “Leah, how did you feel about the team’s chemistry on the pitch yesterday?” Leah nods along to the question before answering. “Our communication really strengthened in the second half. I think we’re in a great place, but need to focus on starting with the same level of communication that we ended yesterday’s match with.” The same reporter turned his attention to you.

“Y/n, you scored the winning goals, how did you feel at that moment?” Your eyes find Mary. “Yeah, it felt good. I was just focussed on the goals, and doing my best for the team.” The reporter nods and moves on.

A few questions later, and you’re the one being questioned again. “Y/n, can you talk a bit about the pressure you feel as one of the star strikers of the Lionesses, especially after a performance like yesterday?” Your chest tightens slightly, so you nudge Leah under the table like you had practised. “Well, first off, I’d like to say that I don’t see myself as a star striker. All the forwards, and the rest of the girls are all incredible players, and a win is a team effort.” While you felt yourself getting more anxious, you felt the need to give credit to your fellow teammates.

“But we handle pressure by staying focussed on our training and supporting each other on and off the field. Leah, do you maybe have something to add to this topic as the team’s captain?” Another sign that you had practised if things got too much for you. So, Leah took over instantly. “Yeah definitely. Besides the support we have for each other, we have strategies in place to manage stress and keep our performances consistent. We’re a team in all aspects of the game.”

The interview continues and you focus on Mary and Lucy at the back when answering the questions instead of looking at the reporters or the camera’s.

“Leah, any final thoughts on yesterday’s performance?” The interview was coming to an end and you sighed in relief. “I am proud of the team. Everyone played their part, and we ended strong. Looking forward to doing the same in the final tomorrow.”

Then the final question was sent your way. “Y/n, any personal goals you’ve set for tomorrow.” You take a second before answering, but when Mary nods her head you feel ready for one more question. “Just to keep contributing to the team’s success in any way I can.”

The press conference ends, and Leah leads you out of the room with her arm around your shoulder. “You did it!” She exclaims once you’re away from the cameras. Mary and Lucy made their way out of the room as well. “You did great out there.” Lucy nudges your shoulder. Mary wraps her arms around you, “I am so proud of you, you did amazing.”

Their reassurances meant more than they probably thought they did. You felt proud of yourself as well. You did something you never thought you’d be able to do, and they were there for you every step of the way.

“Come on, let’s get ready to leave. We can cuddle on the bus.” Mary led you back to the hotel rooms, followed by both Leah and Lucy. “Thank you all, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

-----

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nicksbestie · 2 days

Text

Nooks And Crannies - M. Sturniolo

a series

part five (read part four here)

Summary : You always seem to be somewhere in the bookstore Matt works at, never buying anything, just reading, and while Matt is technically not supposed to talk to customers for so long while he's on the clock, he can't help himself.

Warnings : none!

Word Count : 1038

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : i didn't forget about this little project, don't worry!!

You stared at the bookmark, and the number scribbled onto it, pushing down the anxiety and deciding to send a message.

hi! is this matt?

You didn’t have to wait long for a response, the almost immediate ping of your phone catching you by surprise, indicating a reply.

(XXX)-XXX-XXXX : yes! i assume this is ____?

You quickly saved his contact, simply saved as “matt :)”.

“yes! how are you?”

The conversation only blossomed from there. You were glad that you lived alone now, because had you still been living at home, your family would have teased you about just how much you were smiling at your phone. You texted Matt nearly nonstop, and you had been enjoying every moment of it. It was just like your normal conversations at The Ivy, sharing book thoughts, or snippets of your day, or even funny jokes. You had received a ton of silly pictures from Matt’s brothers, as they had a habit of stealing his phone and sending random selfies. You found it funny, Matt found it annoying, but either way, you always had something to talk about. Conversation with him was never dry, which you had been slightly afraid of when you had texted him for the first time, and he always replied as quickly as possible, unless he was at work.

When you weren’t talking, you couldn’t deny the fact that you missed speaking to him. It was really nice to have someone who actually wanted and enjoyed talking to you. It was another couple of days before you could actually take any time off to leave your apartment, and of course, the first place that you went when you left that afternoon was The Ivy. It had been pouring rain, but you couldn’t stand being inside your room for one more minute. So, you pulled on a raincoat, grabbed the umbrella by your door, and began the short walk downtown. Since it was warm out, and the sun was peeking through some clouds, the walk wasn’t miserable, and you actually quite enjoyed it. You had always loved the rain, and since you had an umbrella to keep you dry, you didn’t mind being out walking in it.

It wasn’t long before you pushed open the door to The Ivy, shaking your umbrella out beforehand. You wrapped it up, putting it into your bag, and moving to a shelf that had some colorful book covers, as they had caught your eye the second you walked in. You noticed that a lot of them were new shipments, having just been placed on the shelves, and you were so excited to pick up a couple of them and pore over the pages. You read the backs of a few of them, and they seemed intriguing, so you held them in your arms as you made your way over to the cafe to get a cup of coffee. Besides, you deserved it after your insanely busy previous couple of days. However, when you got over to the counter, there was already a cup with your name scribbled on it, with it being your usual.

You went and picked it up, smiling when you noticed Matt waving at you, sitting at one of the tables with his own cup. “Was this you?” You asked, motioning to the cup. He smiled at you, nodding. “I saw you walk in, figured I’d order your usual for you since I was grabbing my own coffee anyways.” You smiled, taking a drink from it, enjoying the way you automatically felt relaxed. “Well, aren’t you sweet.” He grinned, a smirk on his face. “I try.” You read the back of the book that he was reading, nodding in slight interest, and it was at this point that you noticed the name tag being on his shirt.

“Wait, are you working right now?”

He shook his head, turning a page.

“Nope. I’m on my break, but I took it so late that I actually get off only fifteen minutes after I go back on shift.”

You sat with Matt for the rest of his break, chatting about random things, mostly books and coffee, but also how both of your mornings had gone prior to being at The Ivy. Matt had worked a short mid-day shift, so he hadn’t been there all morning, which he was grateful for. He had picked up a coworker’s shift since they had been searching for coverage due to a family emergency, and he was heading right back home as soon as he got off. You found a good book to read when Matt had to clock back in, and you dove right into it. You were enjoying the gentle atmosphere, and the time flew. You were a fast reader, so you got through a good chunk of the book before Matt got off the clock and found you still at the coffee table, coming over to say goodbye before he left The Ivy.

“So, where are you heading after you leave here?”

You softly laughed, shrugging.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. The rain has gotten a lot worse, and I was going to go walk around shops, but I’m not sure I want to go back out into that. I may just stay here for a while until it lets up, but I’m glad I got to see you! Even if it was within your working hours.”

He smiled, removing the name tag off of his shirt.

“Yeah! One of these days, we’ve got to hang out outside of this shop. I do have a personality other than work.”

“Oh, I’m sure that you do. You’ll have to show me it eventually.”

Matt looked like he was pondering an idea, so you quietly waited for a response.

“Why don’t you come home with me?”

You were slightly taken aback, and nervously laughed.

“Damn, you have to ask me out first!”

Matt smiled, shaking his head.

“Not like that. Just for dinner. You can meet my brothers, we can spend time together outside of where I work, a nice get to know you more night. If you’re not interested, I totally understand!”

You smiled at him, walking towards the door with him.

“I would love to.”

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barcaatthemoon · 3 hours

Text

fade into you || lena oberdorf x reader ||

lena takes your virginity.

minors dni, 18+, smut warning.

not proofread because i have 30 minutes to get to work and still need to eat breakfast.

the move from manchester to bayern was a big one, but you hadn't made it alone. your older sister keira's best friend, georgia, had transferred with you. with georgia there, you practically had another older sister there with you. and it was great, up until you met lena.

the bayern and wolfsburg games were pretty intense, but you loved it. english soccer hadn't necessarily been physical enough for you, aside from your very heated games against arsenal. lena could match your aggression and put you on your ass if she really wanted to.

at first, there had been a couple of close calls. georgia had gotten herself carded arguing with lena twice before someone said something. after that, you had players like magda and pernille, your team mothers, who looked out for you instead. they were a lot more protective, not even letting the german player talk to you after games.

lena hated the way that they watched over you like a hawk whenever she was around. all lena had wanted to do then was talk to you, and she had to wait months before she finally had a good chance to do so. georgia had tried to step in to "protect" you whenever lena approached you after an international game against each other, but she wasn't nearly as intimidating as magda.

"(y/n)!" lena called out as she chased you down in the tunnel. you froze on the spot, unsure of what lena could have wanted with you. that game had been difficult to say the least. tensions had been high, and several players on both sides had gotten a little sketchy with some of their tackles and challenges. "do you mind if we talk for a minute?"

"you want to talk to me?" you tried not to sound so surprised, but you couldn't help it. lena nodded as she extended her hand towards you. georgia looked a bit angry as you took it, not noticing the looks from leah, lucy, and your sister behind her.

"i'd prefer to do it alone," lena told you as she led you away from everybody else. "i've wanted to talk to you for a long time, but there are always other players around. your friends don't seem to like me too much."

"they are protective. we have a tendency to go a bit harder after each other than anybody else," you pointed out. lena couldn't argue with you on that one. she admittedly did play a bit rougher with you than she did with other players. however, lena knew that sometimes that was what it took to stop you from trucking through their defenses.

"i like how you play. i can't wait to be on your team." lena rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. you studied her for a moment, just long enough to be distracted by her features. your eyes bounced all around her face and body, shamelessly checking her out a bit. "before that, though, i'd like to get to know you better. maybe we could go on a date when you get back to germany?"

"why wait that long?" you asked her. lena looked surprised, like she couldn't believe that you wanted to spend time with her so soon. "i won't be drinking with the rest of the team tonight, and playing cards in my sister's room can wait. you guys leave tomorrow night, and i think that leaves just enough time for us to go out together for a night."

"the whole night?" lena asked. you were quick to shake your head, but refused to elaborate any further. lena didn't know that you were a virgin, she couldn't have. not a lot of people actually knew that, and while you had been told that it was nothing to be ashamed of, you couldn't help but feel like you were lagging in your age group.

"i'd like to see where things go first. hooking up isn't really my thing," you said quickly. you hoped that it came off casually, but you knew better than that. you weren't that lucky, not when it came to relationships. you had only ever dated one other person, and it had ended so badly that you kind of thought you'd never date again.

…

naturally, as your relationship progressed, lena eventually learned about your lack of experience. she had been kind about it once you told her. a lot of things that you had done over the past few months made sense to her. lena had known that you were shy, but now she understood why certain things messed with you as much as they did.

"good morning." lena greeted you with a kiss as you walked into the kitchen. it was her first week in her munich apartment, and she had asked for you to stay with her. the two of you had been together for nearly half of your first season at bayern. now, you'd get to play at the same club together, so she would be there to keep you company instead of georgia.

"this isn't good for my german," you told her. lena shrugged it off and wrapped her arms around your waist as she pressed several kisses to the side of your face. "i really do want to learn, lena."

"liebe, you are doing fine with the german. relax, we practice together every single day. rest your brain for a morning, it will be fine," lena said. you sighed as your body sank back against hers. you hadn't been with lena for very long in the scheme of things, but you knew for sure that you were in love with her. keira had once told you that love was a feeling that often took you by surprise, and your feelings for lena had blindsided you early on in your relationship.

the two of you had expressed your love for each other in words before, but you wanted to do more. you wanted to give yourself to lena fully. the thought was beyond terrifying for you, but you also knew that lena was trustworthy. she would take care of you, just like she had been doing for months. more than that, you trusted lena fully and wanted to show her just how far your trust reached.

"what are you thinking so hard about?" lena asked you. her voice was full of concern, breaking the blissfully relaxed energy that had been filling up her room. you had been ready to tell her exactly what you wanted, but when you opened up your mouth and looked at her, your words died out on the tip of your tongue.

"i want-," you paused, unsure of whether or not this was the time. lena would never push you towards anything, but you hadn't considered whether or not she wanted sex from you. everybody around the two of you had made a teasing remark here or there about sex, only to be shut down by an extremely defensive lena.

"it's okay, take your time." lena pressed a kiss to the top of your head as she pulled you to rest against her chest. you gave yourself a couple of moments to relax where she had guided you. once those moments were over, you shifted so that you were sort of leaning over her. "everything okay?"

"yes, i just, need to ask you something. lena, i'd like to have sex with you," you told her. lena's normally expressive face went completely blank as she stared at you. a wave of panic overtook your thoughts, but lena didn't let it get far enough for you to retract your statements.

"this is a big deal, are you sure liebe?" lena asked you. it was true, this was a big deal for you. some of your teammates had tried to play it off as something that didn't matter, but to you it did. lena knew this, and she had been fully prepared to wait until marriage if that was something you had wanted. a part of her hadn't expected you to want to talk about it again so soon, but she was glad that you trusted her.

"yes, of course i am. i love you, and i want to show you that," you said sheepishly.

"there are other ways to show that you love someone. it's not like i can give you this experience back if you decide that i wasn't the right one." for a moment, you thought lena was trying to talk you out of having sex. that idea was promptly snuffed out whenever you finally looked her in the eye. lena looked almost to tears, but there was no sign of anything other than joy on her face.

"i'm sure. i want you, and only you." lena had never heard you speak with such confidence or conviction before. you were shy, always keeping to yourself or your very carefully selected circle of friends. "just, please remember that it's my first time."

"always, we will take it slow," lena promised you.

…

neither you nor lena had really brought up having sex again for the remainder of your stay with her. you had assumed that lena had forgotten, not that she was working on making the last night of your week together so special. for the most part, you had been completely oblivious until she was practically shoving you out of the house to go shopping with sydney and laura.

they were nice, but still very much lena's friends. you had a lot of fun with the girls, who had definitely talked you into spending more money than you meant to. by the time that you headed back to lena's, you had enough things to fill an extra suitcase.

"lena?" you called out into the apartment. it looked empty, but lena had obviously cleaned and rearranged a few things. you could see the table set very romantically, and you wondered for a moment if you missed some sort of anniversary. all of those thoughts were practically thrown out of your head when you saw lena walk out of her bedroom. "you look amazing."

"i know that we did not talk about this before, but i really want to be with you before you leave. only if that's okay with you," lena said. she brushed a strand of your hair back behind you ear as she stepped into your space. there was never an invasion with lena, she was always welcomed eagerly with open arms.

"i'd like that. i've been thinking about it a lot," you confessed. lena smiled as she pulled you in for a kiss. something told you that lena would have kissed you either way, but this kiss felt different. this kiss built to something bigger, something that your body had been anticipating for a couple of weeks now.

lena pulled back from the kiss to lead you to the table. you sat there a little awkwardly by yourself while you waited for her to return. lena had obviously put a lot of effort into the meal, preparing things that you recognized as supposed aphrodisiacs. you noticed the distinct lack of alcohol at the table, which lena explained away as not wanting anything to possibly taint the experience.

"how are you feeling?" lena asked you. she leaned back against the counter as she watched you put the last dish in the dishwasher. you had fought her about leaving the dishes in the sink for tomorrow and cleaning up, but lena relented in the end. she had rinsed a few of the pots and pans before you were even home anyway, that was enough help as you'd accept.

"nervous, but in a good way. i trust you though, just show me what you like i guess," you told her. lena smiled as she pulled you in for a kiss. this one was soft and sweet, a gentle press of her lips against yours. the next couple ventured away from that territory, right up until lena was pinning you against the counter by the kitchen sink and kissing you absolutely breathless.

"i'm going to find out all of the things that you like. maybe it'll take more than a night, but we have the rest of our lives to figure everything out." lena picked you up with ease and carried you into her bedroom. every part of the house had been done up for tonight, so it shouldn't have come as a shock to you to see the candles and flowers all over the room.

"you spoil me. what if i want this every time we have sex?" you asked her.

it was a teasing question, but lena answered you with complete sincerity, "then i will do this every single time. there is nothing i wouldn't do to make you happy."

"i love you," you told her. lena blushed as she pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"i love you too," she mumbled. you threaded your fingers through her hair and lifted her head up so that she was looking at you. she repeated herself, suddenly a little afraid that you hadn't heard her. you pulled her in for another kiss, opening your mouth almost immediately to welcome her tongue.

lena dropped onto her knees on the bed to lay you down gently. her body quickly covered yours once again, and lena slotted herself in between your legs. the two of you had laid like that before, but now it felt different. both of you knew where this was leading, and while lena would assure you that you could turn back whenever you wanted, you knew otherwise.

you were grateful for lena taking her clothes off first, even if you had been head over heels for the outfit. it was rare that you got to see lena out of her kit or the sweats that she liked to wear around the house. and while there was little hotter to you than lena walking around in a tank top and sweatpants, the black slacks and white button up that lena had worn for tonight drove you a little crazy.

however, you were glad to not feel quite so underdressed for the occasion. you hadn't changed from the jean shorts and t-shirt of lena's that you had worn out for shopping. lena had barely let you go whenever she saw you in her shirt that morning, but you had compromised with her by cuddling on the couch until laura and sydney came bursting through lena's apartment doors.

"can i touch you?" lena asked as she motioned towards your bare chest. she was almost completely naked above you, only wearing her underwear. your shorts were still on, lena slowly making her way down your body. your lips were bruised from kissing her, and there were little wet spots from lena kissing along your neck and jaw.

"please do," you told her. lena smiled, dipping her head down to press a kiss to the little dip in between your collarbones. lena's hands massaged your breasts as she littered kisses all over your chest. you could feel that you were wet, but you didn't want to rush lena. as many times as she had told you that this was for you, you had reminded yourself that this was also for her as well. it was your first time, yes, but it was also your first time together.

with each inch that lena moved down your body, you felt your arousal and anticipation grow. you were practically shaking by the time that lena finally reached your shorts. she opened her mouth to ask if you still wanted to continue, only to be met with you impatiently shimmying yourself out of them. lena had the tact to hide her amusement, but you didn't miss the little glimmer in her eye.

it wasn't the amusement that you had mistaken it for. after your show of enthusiasm, lena let her own eagerness be known. the kisses that lena pressed to your hips and thighs were messy, much messier than the ones placed on your chest. lena paused and sucked a hickey onto the inside of your thigh, barely an inch away from where you were practically frothing at the mouth waiting for her to touch you.

"mine," lena muttered sweetly as she ran her finger over the hickey.

"make me yours," you begged her. you weren't sure what had compelled you to say that, but if lena's reaction was anything to go by, it was the right decision. lena grabbed your thighs and held them apart. you heard her swear as she really got a good look at you spread out in front of her.

there was nothing that could have prepared you for the feeling of lena's mouth on your cunt. you had kissed her hundreds of times already, but her lips felt completely different between your legs. you blindly reached around for something to grab until you felt lena take your hands in hers. it was sweet and grounded you, distracting you from your rapidly approaching orgasm.

"i don't want to cum yet," you whined. lena lifted her head to look at you. there was something reassuring in her eyes, something that quelled the panicked thoughts about embarrassing yourself in front of her.

"it's okay, let it happen. it always happens faster than you'd like the first time." lena spoke gently, more so than you had ever heard her before. you closed your eyes and tried to only focus on the way that lena felt as her tongue moved between your folds.

you couldn't stop the moans and all the little noises that normally would have embarrassed you. lena hummed appreciatively at each noise you made, like all she wanted was to hear them again. the focus of lena's tongue switched from just lazily lapping at your cunt to zeroing in on your clit. you felt a finger press against your entrance, rubbing teasingly as if she hadn't planned on actually entering you.

"lena, i think i'm gonna cum," you warned her. lena just sort of squeezed your hand as she continued with a steady pace. lena didn't want to overload your senses, so she tried to keep things going a little slower. she paid attention to every little signal that your body was giving her, helping you reach your peak and work yourself through it.

"you did so good," lena praised as she littered your face with kisses. your cheeks were flushed and your chest was heaving. you had made yourself cum a couple of times before, but it was nothing like having lena touch you. the feeling of lena touching you made you never want to even try to get yourself off ever again. "how are you feeling?"

"i've never felt like that before," you told her. it was a good feeling, but you couldn't quite articulate that yet. lena nodded, seemingly in understanding, and cupped your cheeks to pull you in for a kiss. "i can't believe i didn't ask for that earlier."

"go on to the shower. i'm gonna put the sheets in the wash," lena told you. she tried to move away, but you clung to her like your life depended on it. "liebe, we have to clean up."

"yes, and you can come shower with me. then, when we're out, you can put the sheets in the wash while i pick out something to watch in the living room." lena wasn't going to argue with you, especially not when your plan included a chance to shower with her. you knew that you had won when lena didn't try to argue with you, so you pulled her out of bed and towards the bathroom. your legs were a bit shaky still, so lena held onto your hips to steady you the whole way.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso smut #lena oberdorf smut #lena oberdorf imagine #lena oberdorf x reader #minors dni #minors do not interact

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messedupfan · 3 days

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Chapter 18

Summary: Wanda has been seeing someone. Daisy reconnects with Reader. Jean and Anna have special plans.

A/n: Heeeyy, please don't hate me. Enjoy!

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Wanda checks her watch nervously. She had arrived at the office thirty minutes early to mentally prepare for the appointment. She wasn't sure what she was going to discover in that room. All she knew was that the idea made her feel ill. Her mind jumps to all of the people she slept with and she begins to feel like an idiot. Her leg bounces nervously as she thinks about how she will be judged by the doctor. It won't happen in front of her but she's almost certain it will happen.

“Wanda Maximoff?” Her head snaps up at her name being called. “I'm ready to see you now.” Wanda nods and rises as she collects her things. She was going to be fine. Agatha swears by therapy. She was going to be fine. This was the next step to getting better and getting on with her life.

You are standing in the backyard of your former home. “You wanted to show me my own craft space?” You ask with arms crossed over your chest.

“No, we wanted to show you our future craft space,” Jean says and Anna waves her arms around as she presents a stack of boxes where your tools and materials used to be laid out.

“What's this? You know that I need the space when I get an order. I know it’s been a while but it’s not just for me. I’ve been able to help you guys with the money I make from this side job. It’s not some frivolous hobby,” you walk around the room.

“Yes, well, it’s actually been a year – close to a year and I’m pretty sure we were your last customers,” Jean says. “Besides, since we’re going to have all of this time we thought would be occupied by a baby… We want to make it into a craft space.”

You clamp your mouth shut as you look at the boxes. It wasn’t fair for them to throw that in your face but this scenario was eerily similar to the one you’d witnessed with Wanda’s basement and Vision. You couldn’t stoop as low as that man so you sighed and nodded. “Okay, can you give me time to find somewhere to store it all? I don’t have the space right now.”

“Sure,” Jean says, “just please don’t take too long. I have a lot of idea’s and I’m excited. Well. We’re excited.” She pulls her wife close to her and the two share a kiss. You find their behavior to be odd but you don’t think about it too much.

“Okay,” you drag out. “I should get going. I need to do some grocery shopping and make some phone calls to see who will be willing to store my things until I can find a better place.” You walk through the gate to get to your car as they allow you to go. You scroll through your contacts to see who you can trust with your tools and supplies. You pause for a moment when you see Daisy’s contact. You know that you didn’t love her the way she deserved but it still hurt to see her name. You decide to leave that task for when you’re home because you needed to focus.

You walk around the store with this nagging feeling that you should contact Daisy for some reason. You didn’t understand it. In the time since she ended things with you, you haven’t wanted to contact her once. Maybe it was because things with Wanda have crashed and burned alive. You don’t know, but you had to fight it because it wouldn’t be fair for you to try and insert yourself in her life again. As you shop you recignize her friend and you can’t stop yourself from saying hi. Because you mistakenly feel as though that would be rude. “Hey, Jemma!” You greet with as smile.

Her eyes go wide and she almost runs but instead turns around smiles back. “Y/n, it’s been a while. How have you been?”

You take a deep breath as you mentally run through the chaotic months you’d been having. “I’ve been better,” you nod. “Yeah, um, how have you been?”

She makes a face and narrows her eyes at you, “Let’s not waste our time here. I’m not the person you want to know about. Am I?”

You’re surprised by the implication and you shake your head. “No, I’m genuinely curious about you. I wouldn’t ever put you in a position to update me about Daisy. She made it very clear that she wanted me out of her life.”

Jemma’s eyes scan you and she nods. “I’ve been well. Daisy, however, not so much. I’m telling you this because she is going to reach out to you soon. As much as I don’t like you, you do deserve the warning.”

Your eyebrows twitch and you frown slightly, that was not what you expected to hear. “Oh, I hope I can help her with whatever it is. I just… She’s not going to try and get back together right?”

Jemma bursts out laughing and you smile and nod as she makes a big show of her amusement. “I’ve forgotten how funny you are!” She points at you with a grin. “No! She doesn’t want you back!”

“I’m sorry,” you say as you try not to roll your eyes at her reaction. It was unnecessary. “Just, let her know that she can contact me whenever she wants. I’ll see you around, Jemma. Or maybe I won’t.” You walk away and continue to shop for the week. You go home and put your groceries away and don’t think about Daisy the rest of the day.

Wanda sits in her office and goes over her budget proposal for the project she was assigned. The company has been trying to score her former in-law’s as a client for years. She knew Stark Industries was a big corporation when she married into the family. It’s what paid for this house. It’s what allowed her to not work for six months. It’s what has paid for her new land. But for some reason she still feels weird about using her relationship to the Starks to help this company land them as a client. It made her realize why they probably hired her in the first place even with the unexplained unemployment gap after being fired from her previous firm. She runs through the proposal a couple more times and hopes that this doesn’t create a rift with the people she was getting to build a healthier relationship with.

When she feels confident about the proposal she sets it aside and starts to work on the digital blueprint of her dream home. It has gone from sketches to utilizing the program on her computer to draft together a more visual representation of what she wants her house to look like. She has lots of windows and an open floor plan. She knows where she wants a dining room and how she wants the kitchen to look like. The second floor has a den space and an office space and multiple bedrooms. Then she considers adding a third floor but thinks it might be too much.

She starts to shuffle the rooms around and considers moving the office to the ground floor. Then she adds a basement. Then she takes it away. She plays around with the design until her stomach grumbles and she is reminded that she has to eat. She shut down her work and walks downstairs to make herself something to eat. As she sets out ingredients, she fantasizes about you standing in the kitchen helping her. She wonders if you'd wrap your arms around her and kiss her cheek as she chopped vegetables. She thinks about how easily she could melt against your body. She allows herself to think about moments she could have with you without making herself feel guilty about it. She's tired of feeling guilty for wanting a better life for herself.

As she lays on the couch and watches a show that she has been binging lately she mindlessly traces the letters M, I, N, E, on her upper thigh. In her mind, it's a memory of you, but really it's only another fantasy. She doesn't know why she can't just give in. She doesn't know why she pushes you away. She knows she shouldn't have but she also knows that she probably would have hurt you. She takes a deep breath and sighs.

She walks up to her bed as her mind prepares her for waking up early the next morning. The mental checklist of what she has to take care of tomorrow. What she should wear for her meeting with Tony. What she should make herself for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Should she go out? Should she anticipate Tony offering to take her to lunch?

She thinks about the therapy sessions she has scheduled for the next several weeks. She thinks about wanting to hang out with her friends. Then as she closes her eyes, she thinks about you and a small smile lifts up her lips.

You are getting ready to take your lunch break when your phone goes off in your pocket. Your heart leaps into your throat when Daisy’s image covers your screen. You answer and start walking away from the job site. “Hello?” You say into the phone. There is a loud drilling sound and someone starts banging a hammer on a wall. “Hold on, I can’t hear you. One second please.” You cross the street and keep walking until you find a quiet area. You sit down on a park bench. “Okay, I can hear you now. Um, hey,” you say as you remove your hardhat. “This is a surprise. How are you?”

“Is it a surprise? Jemma told me that she warned you I might contact you,” Daisy says.

“Uh, she did say that but I wasn’t sure when to expect your call. So it is still a surprise,” you reply as you run your fingers through your hair. “She also warned me that you’re not doing too well. Is there something I can do for you?” Daisy goes quiet and you think that the call has dropped, you move the phone from your face to check but the sunlight makes it difficult to tell. “Hello?”

“I’m here,” she sighs and you can tell that she is trying to hide that she is crying. You take a deep breath as you brace yourself for what she might tell you. Maybe Phil is terminally ill. Maybe her mom passed. Maybe this, maybe that.

“I’m here for you,” you tell her. “No matter what, it’s okay. You can tell me.”

“I,” her voice cracks and you wish that you could do something more than sit here on the phone with her. “What I need to talk to you about is better done in person,” she finally says through her sniffles.

“Okay, um where do you want to meet?” You ask. “I don’t have Rachel this week so you could come over to my place because it's a lot more private than yours or if you don’t want privacy I can go to your place after work. Um or we can meet somewhere public. I’m willing to do whatever you need.” You softly offer her options. Your heart is pounding from the anticipation. What could be so bad that she had to see you in person?

“I’m okay with coming over to your place,” she replies.

“Okay,” you state, “does seven-thirty work for you? I’ve been working twelve to thirteen hour shifts to pay those pesky hospital bills.”

“Seven-thirty works,” she answers. “I’ll see you then.”

“I’ll see you then,” you say as the call ends. You sit on that park bench a little bit longer as you fear what Daisy has to say. What could she possibly be holding on to? What has her in tears? What can’t she say over the phone? Your mind races as you eat your lunch. It continues to run as you get back to work and think about what Daisy needs help with.

Wanda laughs with Tony as they sit together in a nice restaurant. Her pitch went well and Tony said that he would consider hiring her for the project. Then he offered to take her to lunch to celebrate. Now the two were discussing highlights of Vision’s finest moments during past holidays. “Oh, remember that time he convinced your dad to let him cut the turkey and he nearly cut his finger off?” Wanda says.

“How could I forget? I’m the one who pointed out that there couldn’t be that much blood on a turkey!” Tony laughs as he lifts his glass from the table and swirls it around. He shakes his head. “I have no clue how I’m related to that man.”

“I don’t know either,” Wanda says. “You are way more fun to be around,” she compliments and they clink their glasses together as they cheers to that.

“You know, Wanda,” Tony starts as he leans in closer. “Why are you wasting your talents working for a company like Nexus Developments? You are family,” he puts his hand on top of Wanda’s. “We could have helped you land a job with the company we usually use or hell, we could have made a branch for you.”

Wanda taps Tony’s hand as she pulls away and slumps back into her seat. “I know that you would have. But I couldn’t ask that of you or your family. Vision would have made it about him some how and lately,” she shakes her head as she feels tears building up. She takes a deep breath. “Lately, whenever your brother doesn’t get his way, my kids pay a price. Hell, even when he does get his way, my kids still suffer.”

Tony nods and takes a drink from his glass, he sighs as the aged scotch goes down smoothly. “I understand your position. Just know that if you ever need help, we are still here for you. Vision can go fuck himself,” he tells her. Wanda laughs a softly as she agrees with his statement. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to convince you into a Maximoff and Stark partnership once again. This one being a profitable business instead of an emotional headache.”

Wanda shrugs, “We’ll see. The future is quite unpredictable after all.”

As you walk through the your apartment building you run through the possibilities of the impending conversation over and over in your mind. The scenarios don’t stop until you see Daisy pacing in front of your door. You check the time on your watch and fill with relief that you’re not late, she’s early.

“Hey,” you say as you sort through your keys to find the one that will unlock the door. Daisy startles as you announce your presence. “Sorry, I didn't mean to,” you notice that she doesn't look too good and you just move to open the door. “Let's just,” you hold it open for her and she walks right past you. “Would you like anything to drink? Water maybe?”

Daisy shakes her head. “No, I don't know how long you'll want me in here after I tell you what I need to tell you.”

You make a face, unsure what she could possibly say that would have you kicking her out of your home. “I have a feeling this is something we should sit for. Come on,” you sit down on the couch and wipe the sweat from your forehead.

“Are you sure you don’t want to shower first? You’ve been working hard all day and I know you how much you hate sitting in–” Daisy rambles on as she paces the living room and you have to cut her off.

“Daisy, I hate waiting even more,” you tell her. “Come, sit,” you pat the space next to you on the sofa.

Daisy stands still and frowns at you. “No you don’t. You are the most patient person I know.”

You nod your head slowly, “I can be patient, that’s true. But I still hate waiting.” You admit to her. “I’ve been worried about you all day, Daisy. I don’t want to be pushy but I want to be able to help you. I can’t do that if you don’t stop stalling and tell me what’s wrong.”

Daisy sits next to you and drops her face into her hands. You sit there and wait for her to collect her thoughts and say something. Anything that will explain her behavior. You bounce your leg as your body decides to show your impatience. The movement has Daisy moving her hands from her face through her hair. “The night we broke up I,” the area around her eyes are red and her nose is pink. She doesn't face you because she can't say this and have you look at her differently. She doesn't know where you stand on a topic like this because every conversation the two of you had on the matter was purely hypothetical. She wanted to keep this to herself because she didn't want you to change in her eyes. She likes you the way you are. “I found out that I had um, sorry this is difficult for me to say.”

You hold your hand out to her, “Daisy, it's okay. Whatever it is,” you trail as she turns her head away from you. “Are you sick?” You ask softly as her shoulders shake.

She turns her head to stare in front of her as she shakes her head and wipes her tears. “No, I'm not sick. That's not the kind of results I had received,” she reaches for the box of tissues in the coffee table and blows her nose. “I found out that I was pregnant,” she finally says.

You feel your heart stop beating and drop to your stomach. You grow nauseous at the news. “Oh,” you grab onto the arm of the couch as if you're going to faint. “I um,” you blink a couple of times. “Is it someone else's?” The words stumble out before you can process the implication.

“I never cheated on you,” she states sharply and she looks at you this time.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… I mean, can you blame me for asking? You didn't tell me until today. You broke up with me instead of telling me. I can't think of why you would do that unless the baby wasn't mine or —” you stop talking as you look at her and clamp your mouth shut. Daisy avoids your eye contact as you recall her behavior that night. She didn't want to be a mother. She kept telling you that as she tried to leave. “Oh,” you react again. The tension in your body releases and you try to figure out how you can address this conversation respectfully. “You decided not to go through with the um the uh pregnancy? Is that what you're telling me?” You try to keep your tone even and your features neutral, trying to avoid showing any insensitive emotions out of respect.

Daisy closes her eyes as she starts to sob. “I couldn't go through with it. I'm not ready.” She says through her tears. You nod your head because you don't know what to do or how to properly react. “It wasn't an easy decision, you know? I thought about it for a couple of weeks and I thought about telling you but I was so scared that you would be happy and I would have the baby to please you and I just —”

“Daisy,” you call her name until she stops rambling and you enter her personal space, pulling her against your chest to let her know that you are there for her. “Daisy, I get it. It's okay. I’m not ready for another kid. Shh, shh, it's okay. It's your body, I would have never asked—”

“I know you wouldn't have but I would have done it! For you!” She interrupts. “Because I know how much you love kids and you're a great parent. You're so great with Rachel and I know how much she wants siblings and I just couldn't. I couldn't be the one to give you that. But if I told you, I would have gone through with it and I would have been miserable,” she continues to ramble. You pull back and get her to look you in the eye.

“Daisy, you're not listening,” you say calmly. “Breathe with me. Okay?” She nods with you and you count to four with your fingers as you inhale through your nose. Then you put down the four fingers as you hold. You lift them back up as you exhale. And you repeat the process with Daisy until she appears a little more relaxed. “Daisy, recently I've been asked by my ex-wife to have more kids with her and I told her no. I — this is going to sound horrible but — I wasn't ready to be Rachel's parent. I love her, she is my world. But it took me longer than anyone realizes to be comfortable being her parent. I wasn't ready and I know that a lot of parents will tell you that none of them were ready and that's,” you wave your hand to the side. “It's quite clear that they weren't and I don't think it should be that way.” You shake your head. “Daisy, I'm telling you right now that I'm not ready for another child. When you told me about the pregnancy right now I nearly threw up. You made the right decision. I'm not mad at you. I don't hate you for making this decision on your own. It's your choice, I'm just sorry that I didn't make you feel like you could come to me about this. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you.” Daisy closes her eyes and leans against your chest.

Neither of you talk for a moment. Allowing yourselves to process and accept the truths that each has shared. You think about how that night might’ve gone differently. You wouldn’t have lived with Wanda for almost two weeks. You wouldn’t have gotten as close to Wanda as you have. You would have been having back-and-forth conversations with Daisy. You would have developed a stronger relationship. Maybe. It could have turned sour. She could have grown distant and resented you or herself for the decision. Who knows? That wasn’t what happened. So it doesn’t matter now. But you can’t help but think where you could have been now had things happened differently.

“Did you deal with this alone?” You eventually ask her. Daisy shakes her head against your chest. You’re surprised she is still resting against you because normally she couldn’t stand the smell of your sweat and the other odors that come from manual labor when the two of you were together. “Jemma?” She nods against you. “Can I ask, uh, what… or why did you bring this to me now?” You ask carefully.

You feel Daisy take a deep breath and this is what pulls her away from you. She wipes her face and sits against the back of the couch. She plays with the rings on her fingers and flexes her jaw. “I didn’t get the abortion until a couple of weeks ago,” she admits. “I almost went through with the pregnancy because,” she takes another shaky breath. “Jean was at the same clinic I was at to make the appointment. I spilled my guts to her because Jemma had to leave halfway through since it wasn't the appointment and Jean was there when I had second thoughts. It took me a couple of weeks to even go in because I was in denial for a bit. I didn’t want to believe it was true. Then I saw the sonogram and I,” she shakes her head and looks up to the ceiling. “I had second thoughts.” She shrugs her shoulders and you take one of her hands to offer your support. It’s not an easy decision for most. That's assuming that it's ever an easy decision for anyone. “Jean offered to pay for my doctor bills and prenatal care if I decided to follow through with the pregnancy and gave her and Anna the baby and never told you about any of this.” You drop Daisy’s hand and turn away from her.

You stand up with that nauseous feeling again, not sure what to do about a betrayal of this caliber. You know that Jean has a tendency to do anything and everything to get what she wants when she wants it but… This was too far. “I can’t fucking,” you shake your head. You want to punch a wall or break something but you can’t. You can’t afford the injury. You can’t afford the plaster to fix the wall. You can’t afford to replace the things you have. You can’t afford any of this because you thought you were paying off debts before interest can build on them. You thought you were doing everything right. You thought you could trust Jean. You can’t believe she would go so far as to put Daisy through something like this.

“Please don’t hate me,” Daisy begs, “I was confused and I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I only said yes at first because I thought you would be allowed to be in their life and I thought you would like that and–”

“I’m not upset with you,” you cut her off. “It’s not your fault,” you try to focus on your breathing but you can’t calm down. You can’t focus on anything. You don’t know how someone can be so deranged. You look at Daisy and you feel so guilty for what happened to her. The position she was put in. It makes sense why one day Jean is ready to cut your head off for saying no and then next she’s perfectly fine. What kind of person could be so deceptive? What kind of person… you huff through your nose. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that,” you say to Daisy in the softest tone you could muster up. “You shouldn’t have… She shouldn’t’ve…” you shake your head and close your eyes.

Daisy stands up and takes your white-knuckled fist and massages the tight skin until you release your grip. “I am going to be okay. I probably shouldn’t have told you. I just, I don’t know. At first the offer was that I just give them the baby. I wrongfully assumed that also meant giving you the baby. Then she eventually told me that you would not know that the baby was even yours,” she shakes her head. “I couldn’t put myself in the middle of this. I couldn’t put anyone in the middle of that. I didn't want to be part of why Rachel’s parents grew to hate each other. You guys are such healthy examples for her.” You begin to grow upset again thinking about how Jean deceived Daisy. How she was ready to deceive you. It was one thing to ask you to knowingly not be allowed in your child's life. But to go behind your back and essentially kidnap what almost was your child… you couldn’t believe it.

“When I had the chance to think about it, I didn’t want to give birth. I couldn’t go through with it so without telling her, I went through with the abortion because that’s what I wanted.” Daisy closes her eyes as tears slip out and she continues to rub your hand. Something she learned that can keep you grounded. “The only thing that has been tearing me apart about this whole thing is how much of it was being kept from you. I haven’t been able to sleep because of it. You deserve to know.”

“Thank you for telling me,” you state as you watch her rub your hands. You clench your jaw as your eyebrows knit together. Normally an action like this would calm you down but the information was far too upsetting. “I need to go for a walk or something. I don’t know. I just can’t be here right now.” You pull your hand away.

“I don’t think you should be alone,” Daisy tries to pull you back to her.

“Trust me, right now, that’s what’s best for everyone,” you say as you hold your hand up to stop her from coming any closer to you. Daisy stares at you, wanting to be in your arms again. Wanting to feel that comfort that you brought her. Both in the past and just before she dropped the bomb on you. But you weren't someone that sought after touch when you were going through something. You retreated. You isolated yourself. At least, that's what you did when you were with her. She might never know that there are other sides to you. Especially not after tonight.

“Okay,” she says just above a whisper. “Okay,” she repeats as she walks to the exit. “I'm sorry for everything, again,” she says as she steps into the hallway. “Please, don't do anything stupid.” She disappears, leaving the door open.

You stare at the door as you think of what you want to do. You think about getting into your car but you're afraid that if you do, you'll drive into a tree or worse. You'll drive to Jean’s house. You couldn't do that to Rachel. You check that you have your keys, phone, and wallet in your pockets and then you lock up your apartment on your way out. Stepping out onto the concrete sidewalk outside of your apartment building you look every which way. There are bars and restaurants down each way. You could easily find somewhere to drink but that's not what you want to do. So you start walking.

You walk aimlessly for a long time. You walk until your legs begin to ache and your feet begin to hurt. You find yourself at a dock, there are many boats parked but you find a space without one. You sit at the ledge and look out to the water and breathe. The smell of the salty water is calming. You watch as the water moves causing the reflection of the lights to dance. You allow yourself to grieve because even though you didn't want another child, you contributed to almost bringing another life into the world. It was a weird feeling. You're not upset with Daisy for making her choice, you are grateful to her. But you still feel the loss. You didn't understand the feeling but you let yourself feel it. Because even though you don't understand why you feel the way that you do, you don't have to justify or explain it to anyone. You can just allow yourself to feel whatever you want to.

Then you grieve the relationship you thought you had with Jean. You can't believe she would pull something like this. You don't understand where an idea like that would come from out of her. You don't know how you'll be able to move past this. You feel like she took everything the two of you built together over the years and tore it apart bit by bit. You feel disgusting. You feel used. You take deep breaths as you feel it all. Hoping to release it in a healthy way. It was done, there wasn't much else that you could do about it now except to confront her. You couldn't do that until Sunday.

When you stand up to leave, you slip and fall into the water. You don't try to swim at first. You let the water move you. Trusting that it won't take you away. That it won't pull you under and shorten your time on this planet. You just float in the water. Eventually, the need for air is too great and you swim up until you break the surface with a big gasp.

You pull yourself up onto the dock and start walking home. You are grateful for the bulky phone case when you pull it out of your pocket to find that the phone is perfectly fine. You use the map application in order to navigate your way home. When you arrive at your destination you shower and eat a microwavable meal. You fall into your bed after taking a sleep aid and fall asleep.

The next day, at work, Wanda stops by the job site around lunch time. You walk into Pietro’s office and find the two of them laughing with takeaway meals in front of them. You still feel horrible from the night before. But hearing her laugh heals the wounds inside your heart.

“Y/n!” Wanda grins. “I brought you something too,” she holds up a container. You look at the container and try not to show that you have anything wrong with you by forcing on a smile.

“You didn't have to,” you say as you move to the sink to wash your hands before you join them. “I appreciate this. Is there an occasion I'm not aware of?” You ask as you open the container. The aroma of your favorite food should have made you happier, instead you began to feel nauseous again. It has nothing to do with the food or Wanda's presence and everything to do with the feelings that you're suppressing.

“No, I had lunch with Tony yesterday and it reminded me how much I enjoy having lunch with other people,” she shrugs. “Isolation can become a bit of a downside when it comes to working from home for me sometimes.”

You nod, “Makes sense. Why don't you do the hybrid method? That's what Daisy did with school. She would do online classes and in-person classes,” you suggest before you take a bite. You chew slowly because you do need to eat. No matter how sick you're feeling.

“That's a good idea,” Pietro agrees. “You could finally get better acquainted with the rest of the staff.”

Wanda makes a distasteful face, “I don't know. Getting to know people always leads to getting stuck in the middle of their drama.” She shakes her head. “I think I have enough of my own.”

Pietro shrugs, “You never know. Sometimes it's good to hear about other people's drama. It makes your life sound better. Why do you think I still talk to you? Just because you're my sister?” Wanda’s eyes widen and she punches her brother on his shoulder. “Hey! It's not my fault, you have the most dramatic life out of anyone I know! Y/n,” he nudges you, “back me up here!”

You are snapped out of your head and try to catch up with the conversation. You look between them cluelessly. “I'm sorry, I probably have her beat when it comes to a dramatic life.”

Pietro shakes his head, “What are you talking about? Other than that baby thing, you are relatively drama free. That drama even ended pretty well from what I remember.”

You feel a little light headed as you are reminded by the development of that issue. That there is a new ending to the situation. But you don't tell him. You don't want to tell him. You're not even sure you want to tell Wanda. Not right now at least. You nod, “Yeah, I guess you're right.” You turn to Wanda with a playful shrug. “Sorry, I tried.” Wanda shakes her head and the three of you share a laugh.

“Whatever,” Wanda mutters as she stabs her salad with her fork.

When lunch is over, you walk Wanda out to her car. You're quiet as she talks to you about her current project and updating you on her boys. Then she asks you if you are okay because you seem a little off. You shrug and stop when you reach the car. “Um the other day, Jean and Anna asked me to move my workshop out of their shed,” you scratch behind your ear. Feeling queasy saying her name.

“Your workshop?” Wanda asks as she unlocks her car.

“Yeah, just my tools and some leftover materials that I used on my last order,” you explain as you open the car door for her.

“Last order? What do you mean?” Wanda reaches over and sets her purse on the passenger seat but she doesn't sit in her car just yet.

“I have a little side business. Haven't I told you about it before?” You are surprised with yourself that you haven't mentioned this to her before. You try to think of a time that you might've brought it up before but you come up with nothing. There just hasn't been a reason to. Wanda shakes her head as she does the same. “Ah well, I have a small business. I take custom orders. Anything that someone wants built, I build it.” You pull out your phone and show her your website. “Just something to help with the bills whenever I can't get a lot of hours.” She takes your phone and nods, impressed by the stuff you have built in the past. “Anyway, the reason it's on my mind, they want me to move my stuff out of the shed. I can't really afford a place to be able to store everything and be able to have the space to work on orders.”

“I have a shed that, admittedly, could use some care,” she says as she hands you back your phone. “You could set up shop in there, at no cost, of course.”

“Wanda, I can't take you up on that offer,” you resist.

“Yes, you can,” she insists. “Why couldn't you?”

You look away and lick your lips as you are reminded of the night she rejected you. “I would need a lot of access to it when or really if I get another order. I don't know if it's a good idea for us to spend that much time together.”

Wanda nods as she understands where you're coming from. “Technically we wouldn't be spending any of that time together. You'd be working and I would be inside my house or doing something. Come on, we're friends. Let me help you with this.”

You focus your eyes back to hers and you think about just how much she has been helping you. It doesn't feel like there is a balance in the friendship with how often she helps you compared to how often you help her. “I don't know Wanda,” you say as you bite your bottom lip in thought. You can't think of a good reason to say no so you don't. You shrug and nod at her. “Okay, yeah, I will take you up on that offer. Thank you, Wanda. I really appreciate it. Is it okay if I bring it all by on Sunday?”

Wanda smiles and nods, “Of course, come by then. I'm sure the boys will be happy to see you and Rachel again. They were pretty upset about not having you guys there last week.”

“Yeah, Rachel wasn't happy about it either. She prefers cooking with you a lot more than she does with me,” you say with a soft laugh. Wanda smiles at her shoes as she thinks about how much she prefers cooking with you over anyone else. She looks back up and locks eyes with you. She feels like an idiot for pushing you away but she doesn't feel ready to tell you how she feels about you.

“I'll see you on Sunday,” she says and you nod as you repeat her departing words as you step away from her. You wave as she drives off and you go back to work without thinking about your problems with Jean and instead thinking about Wanda and how pretty she looked today.

Saturday night you can't sleep. You toss and turn even after taking a sleep aid. Your heart pounds as your mind races about seeing Jean the next day. You can't stop running through scenarios of confronting her. Are you going to do it right away? Are you going to choke? Is the sight of her going to make you nauseous? Or worse. Is it going to cause you to actually vomit? Will you be able to see her without getting angry? You're going to have to be there longer than you want to because you have to load your truck with your stuff but are you going to make it through? You don't know. And you're exhausted by the anticipation.

You are lucky to get in a nap before you have to pick up Rachel. You have to drink two cups of coffee before you feel awake enough to drive. On the drive over, you are yet again practicing what you're going to say when you arrive. You yawn as you park and shake your head to get you ready to knock on the door. You stare at the house as you try to remember that she is your friend. She was your favorite person once upon a time. You loved her. But it's all tainted now. She has slowly burned you out and ripped you to shreds.

You step out of your truck and knock on the door. You look at the welcome mat to keep yourself calm as you wait. When there's no response, you ring the doorbell. You take slow breaths as you try to clear your mind. You can't think about what Daisy told you in front of Rachel.

Anna is the one to open the door. Since Daisy hadn't mentioned her, you can tell yourself that she isn't someone that you should be upset with and you can tell yourself that she has no idea. At least until you can figure out when to confront them about this. You walk through the house to get to your stuff in the backyard but when you bring the tools to your truck you go through the gate that leads to the front instead of going through the house. You don't say anything to Anna, you don't even ask why she's the only person you've seen so far. You just focus on your task. Move your tools from the shed to your truck. When you're done, Rachel greets you with a tight hug that you are happy to reciprocate. It's a relief to see her and to hold her.

Jean is on the phone in the kitchen and you don't feel the desire to interrupt her conversation just to confront her. You decide to leave it alone. You take Rachel to the car and help her get inside. “Did you hear the good news?” Rachel asks as you get settled in the driver's seat. You shake your head and ask her what the good news is. “I'm having a baby brother! My mommies said so. I'm going to be a big sister!” Your heart stops as your entire body freezes. How could they tell her something like that? How do they even know what the gender would have been?

“Wait right here, I need to ask your mommies something,” you tell your daughter with a tight voice. You climb out of the truck and walk to the front door. This time, you enter without knocking and walk up to Jean as she ends her phone call. “How dare you,” you start bitterly. Jean is thrown off and her confused smile drops. “How dare you put Daisy in that kind of position. How dare you tell our daughter that she's going to be a big sister before there is a baby. There isn't going to be a baby! There never should have been. You shouldn't have tried to talk Daisy out of her decision. You are a cisgendered female, you should have some respect when it comes to another woman making a decision about her life and her body. Not only that, you are my best friend. Or at least you used to be. I thought you would have enough respect for me to tell me the moment you found out about Daisy's pregnancy. I was mistaken to believe the lies you told me but I will not allow that behavior to affect our daughter. So you better be a thousand percent certain when it comes to something as big as a sibling coming into her life before you tell her anything!” You take a split second to decide whether or not to continue and with how upset you are, you can't stop yourself. “And I was going to let Daisy tell you this herself but I will do what you should have done. She went through with her decision. There won't be a baby. Now I suggest that you either start looking into fostering or adopting — no. You should get your fucking head checked be clearly you are out of your fucking mind, Jean!” Jean slaps you clear across your face. The slap was loud and the impact was hard. It stings and you lift your hand up to your face in shock.

“Get out!” Anna shouts from behind you. You are shaking with anger. You weren't aware that you had gotten so furious with the situation. You try to say more but Anna won't let you. Jean is in tears and looking down at her hand, shocked by her own actions. Anna steps in between you and her wife. “Get the fuck out of my house Y/n! Get out! Get out!” She starts pushing you backwards. You hold your hands up and shake your head.

“You're both unbelievable. I'm going,” you walk out after Anna's last shove. You can't believe the reactions. You can't believe the lack of accountability. You storm across the yard and climb into the truck.

“What's wrong?” Rachel asks in a scared little voice. You feel terrible seeing her shaken up. You sigh and close your eyes before you look at her.

“Nothing sweetheart,” you say as softly as you can. “Nothing, let's just… we're going to go home and I'm going to go for a run and then maybe we'll stop by Wanda’s house to drop all of this stuff off later. How does that sound?” You try to make her feel more at ease.

“Why can't we go to Ms. Wanda’s first? I really want to see Tommy and Billy and tell them about the good news!” She asks innocently and you have to close your eyes to calm down. You open them and start the engine. You need to distance yourself from this house. From Jean and Anna. You're starting to wonder if your ex’s behavior is being instigated by her wife. You aren't sure how you can find out. But it's definitely something to look into with the lengths she's gone through to make this idea of theirs happen.

“Honey, mommies were mistaken. You're not going to be a big sister,” you correct her.

Rachel frowns, “Yes I am. They said so. My mommies don't lie to me, Baba.”

“I know that sweetheart, that's why I said that they were mistaken. That's not the same as lying, it's more like they didn't know what they were telling you wasn't true,” you take a second to glance at her. “Does that make sense to you?” Rachel nods with tears building in her eyes. “Awe baby girl, what's wrong?”

“I really wanted to be a big sister,” she says as she wipes her tears. You feel bad as you continue to drive.

“I know sweetie, I know,” you sigh as you start to reconsider their proposal. But you quickly shove that thought out of your mind. You cannot allow your daughters disappointment to change your mind on a matter of this magnitude. “Do you still want to go to Wanda’s first?”

“Yes please,” she says as she continues to wipe her face. “I want to see my friends.” You want to calm down before you see Wanda. You don't want to pull her into more of your problems. But you feel bad enough for taking away your daughters smile. So you suck it up and drive to Wanda’s house. You text her that you're on the way when you stop at a red light.

When you pull up the driveway, Wanda is waiting outside with a smile. She knocks on the window and talks as you roll it down. “I don't care what you say, I'm helping you move the stuff into the shed.” Her wide smiles drops to an expression of concern when she sees the red mark on your cheek. She looks further into the truck and sees Rachel's face is red from crying. “What happened?” She looks you over and you shake your head.

“Nothing, why do you ask?” You say, oblivious to the evidence on your face while you try to hide your frustration from the day.

Wanda leans in as close as she can get. “Have you looked in the mirror?” She says in a low whisper.

Your eyebrows knit together and you frown before you drop the visor mirror to check yourself out. Then you see the mark and you shut it. You want to curse yourself for not going home first. “I can't talk about it right now. Can we start moving this stuff?” Wanda nods and allows you to get out of the vehicle. You walk to the other side to help Rachel down before you start to take stuff down from your truck. You hand some boxes to Wanda and she leads the way to her shed. She talks the entire way about how she spent her entire Saturday reorganizing the entire space. You hardly listen as your mind replays the last hour. How Jean slapped you and Anna pushed you. How angry you felt — no, feel.

Once the pair of you set the boxes down Wanda asks again what happened and the words come out of you before you can stop them. You tell her everything from running into Jemma to what happened with Jean just moments ago. Wanda is quiet as she stands there and processes. She doesn't look at you as she does. You shift your weight uncomfortably as you wait for a response. When she finally moves you don't expect her to hug you the way that she does. She holds you tightly in a warm embrace that breaks your walls down.

“I'm so sorry,” she whispers against your chest as you break down in tears and she rubs your back. You let her hold you and comfort you in ways that you hardly ever allowed anyone to take care of you. You allow her to witness a side of vulnerability that you rarely let many see.

After a bit of time the both of you stop crying. You and Wanda sneak into the house and each go to a bathroom in order to wash your faces and then get back to work. Together the truck gets emptied of the tools and materials in an impressive amount of time and was put away in the shed. When the both of you finish, Wanda gets a phone call and excuses herself to answer. You follow her inside to wash your hands.

You get a message from Nebula and you feel slightly guilty when you do. You open the message and you clench your jaw as she admits how much she likes you and asks when she can see you next. The two of you went out on a date shortly after Wanda rejected you. It was an okay date but with everything going on, it doesn't feel right. You close your phone and head upstairs to check on the kids. As you do so you pass Wanda's office. Her door is slightly ajar. You don't mean to listen in but when you hear the words, “Thank you for introducing me… yeah he has made me feel things I haven't felt before,” and, “I feel like he understands me better than I understand me.” You feel your heart sink. You continue to walk to check on the kids as you try to tell yourself that you didn't hear the entire conversation so you couldn't possibly know what she was talking about. But a small voice in the back of your head is telling you that she rejected you because she found someone else. A reality that you'll have to accept if you and Wanda are going to continue to be friends.

After you check on the kids you schedule another date with Nebula for the next Sunday after you drop Rachel off. Then you continue on with your night with Wanda and the kids. Doing your best to keep your mind off of everything else.

Chapter 19

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#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff au #wanda marvel #fanfiction #messedupfan #wanda fanfic #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader

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queerbuckleys · 14 hours

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LONG MAY YOU ROAR [bucktommy | soft & gentle | 1k] a/n: hi uhh so this randomly popped into my head, and it's the first time i have ever really written in tommy's pov so it's far from perfect but it doesn't really make sense to tell it from another so i tried something new weee. there's some bonus sweet buckley siblings implications <3 title barely has anything to do with the fic/i do not want to be too sad about it, i just love robin from ttpd and it's about childhood so it fit... well enough. tw for mentions of canonical childhood cancer and death of a child

Tommy stands in his boyfriend’s living room, beer in one hand and he takes in the decor. He’s seen it all before but he's still getting to know the man that’s fussing over dinner in the kitchen. And there is something new, resting on the tv stand, is a photo of a boy riding a bicycle, his back toward the camera. It’s the first time Tommy has noticed it. He had never seen any pictures of a young Evan before, it never struck him as strange, not very many people kept baby pictures around their adult home – that’s why this one felt somewhat strange. There were the photo booth strips, Polaroids, and school pictures of Chris and Jee on the fridge or placed in a drawer around the loft, but no other kids were present in this space. Nothing else is so formal. He figures it has to be Evan, and it was special for some reason. So he picks it up and turns to his boyfriend who is smiling and making his way over to him, finally satisfied with letting the lasagna finish baking.

“Who is this handsome young man?” he asks, a gentle teasing lilt in his voice.

And Evan’s demeanor shifts, he’s still smiling, but it turns sad and bittersweet. His whole body sags ever so slightly. Tommy watches as his Adam's apple bobs, he takes a deep breath with his eyes closed and steps closer. He traces the edge of the frame, his eyes transfixed on the back of the bike. “This is my brother. Daniel.” Evan swallows again.

“You’ve never mentioned…Could he not make it to the wedding?” He asks, but there is a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that tells him that there is more to the story.

“You could say that,” Evan responds with a dry hough of a barely there laugh. “He, he um, he died when I was little. Leukemia. I never really knew him. Our parents–” He shakes his head.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“I want to. It’s just, that I haven’t told the story so far removed from finding out. I told the 118 right away, while I was still numb. And the very messy deep personal feelings version to my therapist, but I’m still working through a lot. So, I don’t know. It might be hard for me to explain it all.”

“Well we can sit down to start,” He says gently with a smile. Taking Evan’s hand, running a soothing thumb over his knuckles. Evan nods and follows his lead to the couch.

“I just, it’s hard to know where to start,” Evan sighs.

“What about why you only now have this picture up?”

Evan smiles a little. “Maddie gave it to me for his birthday last week.” he clears his throat, “So, basically I didn’t even know that I had a brother until just before Jee was born.” Evan looks over at him, trying to gauge his reaction. He lets the words flow over him, and his brow scrunches, tilting his head in confusion.

“My parents kept several secrets from me, forced Maddie to keep them too, for thirty years. They all came to light when I stumbled across that picture in Maddie’s baby box. The past few years since then have been busy, and she found it again after her move and everything and had a copy made for me and had it framed. He has the right for his life to be remembered and celebrated after being a secret for so long.”

“Why was it a secret?” He lets the question slip out, “If you want to share that.”

“Well, um,” Buck ducks his head a little, “Have you ever seen My Sister's Keeper?” he asks, looking back at him with a questioning look on his face. It isn’t what Tommy is expecting in the slightest. But Tommy has seen the movie in question, and the dots slowly begin to connect. And Evan has this look in his eyes that tells him he’s right.

“Oh, Evan.”

“It just never worked for him though. Sometimes I still feel like I failed him somehow.” Evan rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was always treated like a disappointment by my parents and didn’t know why until I was thirty years old, I was never going to be absolved of a sin I didn’t even know I had committed. Maddie though, she raised me. She always treated me like any kid would want to be treated. So, now we celebrate his birthday when we can and Maddie tells me about him. She always comes up with new stuff she remembers after keeping it tucked away for so long. Or how I remind her of him and stuff. It’s good for her to talk about him, and for me to hear it.”

Tommy smiles at him at that, “I have never been under the impression that your relationship with her isn’t very special. Thank you for telling me about this part of your family.”

“Well, you knew most of all the other members of my family before me, as Chimney likes to remind me.” Evan laughs and relaxes back into his arms, tucking his face into Tommy’s neck. “Thank you for listening.” he runs his fingers over his hands, “I wanted to tell you. I just never knew how to bring it up, or what base talking about a dead brother was.” He can feel Evan’s small smile against his neck, and he laughs gently too.

“Someday soon I’ll tell you about my family too.” He twists his fingers in Evan’s curls.

“Whenever you are ready. I’ll wait.” Evan places a light kiss on his jaw.

The oven beeps declaring the lasagna to be finished and Evan groans, ungluing himself from his side. Once Evan is back in the kitchen, Tommy lifts the photo up again from the coffee table and gently returns it to its home.

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #911fic #bucktommy #911 #*aj writes stuff

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sosa2imagines · 2 days

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3 a.m. wanderers!

Warnings- lots of fluff. ---------------------------

Rain lashed against the tower's windows, a rhythmic drumming that usually lulled you to sleep. But tonight, it seemed to be having the opposite effect on Steve.

Your eyes open slightly, as you feel someone gently brush the hair back from your face. You turn to see Steve sitting up in bed next to you, a slight frown on his lips. “Sorry to wake you,” he says softly. “But I can't sleep.”

You groan and roll onto your back, looking up at him through sleepy eyes. “What time is it?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Almost 3 a.m.,” Steve replies, running a hand through his messy hair. “I've been tossing and turning for hours.”

“Nightmare?” “Yeah,” Steve mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face. “I keep reliving some of the worst moments of my life. Can't seem to shake it off.”

You knew the feeling. The past, particularly the darkness Steve had fought so hard against, could be a persistent intruder. Sitting up, you offered him a sympathetic smile. “How about we…de-bug the night?”

His lips curved up in a soft smile. “De-bug?”

“Exactly. We chase away the bad thoughts with some good old-fashioned fun.”

Steve perks up slightly at your suggestion, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, let's do that.” He stands up from the bed, stretching his arms above his head before turning to offer you a hand.

You take his hand and let him help you out of bed, shivering slightly at the cooler air of the room. Steve pulls you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist as you pad silently toward the door. The two of you step into the dimly lit hallway, the silence of the night settling over you like a blanket. Steve leads the way down the corridor, his hand warm and secure around yours.

After a few moments, he pauses in front of a large window overlooking the city skyline. The lights of New York twinkle in the distance, casting a soft glow over the room. Steve wraps his other arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer against him.

“This is one of my favorite places in the tower,” he says quietly, his breath warm against your skin. “Sometimes I come here at night when I can't sleep. Something about the view calms me down.” You feel his body relax beside you, the tension slowly draining out of him.

You lean into him, resting your head on his chest as you watch the city lights flicker and dance below. “It's beautiful,” you say softly, your words barely above a whisper.

Steve hums in agreement, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your arm. The two of you stand there for a long moment, simply basking in each other's presence. After a while, he speaks up quietly, his voice barely audible. “Thank you for being here with me.”

“Of course,” you reply softly, tilting your head up to look at him. His eyes lock with yours, searching your face for a moment before he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

After a peaceful moment of gazing out over the city, you and Steve decide to check on Bucky. You make your way to his room, Steve's hand still firmly holding yours. As you approach his door, you can hear the sound of heavy breathing and muttering coming from inside.

As you crack open the door and peer inside, you can hardly contain your laughter. Bucky is sound asleep in his bed, a peaceful smile on his face, talking in his sleep. It seems he's dreaming about his favorite actress, and in the dream, he's introducing you to her.

“Hey, Aniston, meet my friends Steve and...” he mumbles incoherently “Oh, yeah, and... uh, Y/n my sweet doll!”

Steve chuckles quietly in the doorway, obviously also amused at the sight. You can't help but grin, shaking your head in disbelief at Bucky's vivid dreams.

After watching Bucky snore peacefully for a few more moments, you and Steve quietly back out of the room and head back down the hall. You can't help but giggle quietly as you walk, the image of Bucky's dreaming face still fresh in your mind.

“I didn't realize he had such vivid dreams,” Steve says, shaking his head. “Or that he was such a fan of Jennifer Aniston”

“Guess you learn something new about your best friend every day,” you reply with a laugh. “We'll have to tease him about it later.”

“Definitely,” Steve agrees, a sly grin spreading across his face. “I wonder if he's ever had dreams about us.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks at the thought, but you quickly recover. “Oh, come on now,” you say with a laugh. “Let's not get carried away.”

Steve chuckles, slinging his arm around your shoulders again as you continue walking. “Just saying, if he's dreaming about celebrities, it's not a stretch to think he might dream about his friends too.”

“But speaking of dreams,” you say, a playful gleam in your eye. “Did you ever dream about your favorite actress?” Steve laughs, knowing he's been caught. “Guilty as charged,” he admits with a shrug. “She was a stunning woman, and I admit I had a bit of a crush on her back in the day.”

After walking for a while, the two of you decide to head to the kitchen for a midnight snack.

You raided the late-night stash, emerging with popcorn and a tub of ice cream that would make Natasha raise an eyebrow. Steve raised an eyebrow himself, but the playful glint in his eyes mirrored yours.

“Sugar rush de-bugging?”

“Desperate times!” you declared, scooping ice cream and handing him a spoon.

After grabbing a selection of treats, you and Steve make your way back through the quiet halls to your room. As you enter, you're greeted by the comfortable, familiar surroundings. You grab a blanket from the couch and settle into the soft cushions, patting the spot next to you. Steve hands you a drink and sits down beside you, draping the blanket over your laps.

He reaches for the remote and scrolls through a streaming service, eventually settling on a movie. As it begins to play, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer, settling back against the couch.

As the movie progresses, you find yourself leaning into Steve's embrace, your head resting on his shoulder. The light from the TV screen casts a soft, flickering glow over the room, creating a cozy and intimate atmosphere. Throughout the film, Steve's hand rubs gentle circles on your back, his touch warm and comforting. The two of you exchange soft whispers and occasional laughter as the plot unfolds.

“You know,” he said softly, “sometimes I forget what it's like to just…relax.” You squeezed his hand. “I'll remind you...”

His blue eyes met yours, a spark of something deeper igniting in their depths. Leaning closer, he brushed a kiss on the corner of your lips. The gesture sent a shiver down your spine.

As the movie plays on, the late hour begins to take its toll on you and Steve.

“Thank you...” he murmured, his voice husky. Exhaustion finally caught up, eyelids drooping. You, too, were feeling the weight of the night.

His heavy arm around your shoulders becomes your makeshift pillow, and his steady breathing becomes your lullaby. You fight to keep your eyes open, determined to finish the movie, but your eyelids grow heavy with exhaustion.

In the span of a few moments, you find yourself drifting off, snuggled into Steve's side, the warm weight of his arm draped over you.

“Sleep, Captain,” you whispered, wrapping an arm around him. He settled against you, the rain a soft melody against the window. You drifted off together, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten.

As you nod off, the sound of the movie fades into a soothing background noise, blending with the gentle rhythm of Steve's heartbeat and the soft rise and fall of his chest. The warmth of his body against yours acts, as a safety blanket to your subconscious, filling your last moments of wakefulness with a sense of contentment and security before you fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.

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@whore-for-chris-evans @caplanreblogsfics

#chris evans characters #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x you

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formula-nyoom · 3 days

Text

Stars Racing Past-3

Summary: Max teaches (Y/N) the first lesson every Jedi must learn, which turns into an exploratory trip around Coruscant.

A/N: Did I essentially make Logan my favorite Star Wars Jedi? Yes. Shoutout to anyone that has played Fallen Order and Survivor, you probably get what I'm putting down.

Series Masterlist

~~~

(Y/N) slept the best she had ever had that night in the Temple and she probably would have slept as long as she wanted to if Max hadn’t barged into her room and turned the lights on, interrupting her peaceful slumber.

“Wake up. It’s time to start training.” Max said as he somewhat gently shook her awake. (Y/N) tiredly rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she glanced at the window to try and gauge what time it was.

“The sun's not even out yet.” She whined, letting out a yawn.

“Perfect time to get a jumpstart on the day.” Max said, looking at her. “I expect you to be dressed and ready in 5 minutes.”

He then turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Now a bit angry at being woken up so early, (Y/N) was tempted to lie back down and go back to sleep. But she decided against it, reluctantly getting out of bed and getting dressed.

(Y/N) put on a pair of tunic and pants, this time choosing to wear a robe as well to feel like a proper Jedi. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she smiled. Everything about her appearance made her look like a Jedi, except for one thing. (Y/N)’s mangled attempt of a braid stuck out on one side. She had learned that the braid that she saw Mick, Logan and Oscar wear were to show their status as padawans. Since (Y/N) was now a padawan, she had to have a braid in her hair as well. Except (Y/N) was never taught how to braid hair. She tried her best to weave a couple strands of hair into a bad mimic of a braid and hoped that it was passable.

“You ready?” Max asked as he opened the door once again.

“Yep!” (Y/N) said, following him out of the room.

The Temple was a lot quieter at this hour. Hardly anyone was roaming the halls as (Y/N) followed Max. And the people she did see only gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. (Y/N) expected Max would take her to one of the classrooms that Oscar and Logan had shown her yesterday, so she was a bit confused when they entered an elevator and Max pressed the highest button.

“So, what exactly are you gonna teach me today?” (Y/N) asked as the elevator rose.

“Just some basic stuff. Master Vettel told me that you’ve used The Force to grab objects before. That’s impressive for someone who’s never been trained.”

“Well it came in handy back at the repair shop.” (Y/N) mumbled. The elevator dinged and the doors parted. Stepping out, (Y/N) now saw that they had entered a somewhat rooftop garden at the top of the temple. The whole planet seemed to be laid out before her as (Y/N) looked out at the cityscape.

A planet that seemed so vibrant and busy when she first arrived, now seemed calm and dim as the sun started to peak out over the horizon.

“It’s nice and quiet up here.” (Y/N) said.

“I come up here to meditate.” Max said as he took a seat underneath a decorated awning with vines hanging off it. He motioned for (Y/N) to take a seat next to him and she obliged.

“Meditation is one of the main techniques Jedi use to connect with The Force. You’re allowing The Force to enter your body and make a connection.” Max explained. “Close your eyes and try to quiet your mind.”

(Y/N) watched as Max closed his eyes and took a deep breath, she then mirrored him as she tried to focus and start meditating. But after sitting there for what felt like 20 minutes, (Y/N) didn’t feel like she was in a meditative state. She tried to clear her mind as best as she could, but stray thoughts kept popping up.

“How long is this supposed to take?” (Y/N) asked, trying to keep her eyes closed.

“Could take minutes. Could take hours.” Max said. By this point (Y/N) had opened her eyes and saw that Max was in the same relaxed state when she had first closed her eyes. (Y/N) closed her eyes and tried to focus again on clearing her mind, but she became too focused on trying to stay focused that she just ended up getting frustrated with herself.

“I can’t do it!” (Y/N) exclaimed, letting out a frustrating sigh. Max opened his eyes and looked at his frustrated padawan. Max had already doubted his teaching capabilities, and now he was doubting them even more at (Y/N)’s frustration. Meditation was the first thing a padawan learns and Max thought it was the first thing he was supposed to teach (Y/N). But his current approach obviously wasn’t working.

“Let’s try something different.” He said. Max adjusted his placement to where he was now sitting five feet in front of (Y/N).

“Don’t focus on trying to clear your mind and letting the Force in. Instead, I want you to try to reach out through the Force and try to feel my presence in it.” Max explained “Do you think you can do that?”

(Y/N) nodded her head. It didn’t seem like a big ask, considering she probably did the same thing when trying to find Seb back on Tattoonie. (Y/N) watched Max close his eyes again and resume his meditation. She then took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

(Y/N) tried to mentally reach out through The Force. She instantly felt a connection and tried to hone in on it, feeling a presence in front of her. It was familiar and almost comforting. It was Max. Even though (Y/N) knew there was distance between them, it felt like Max was sitting right in front of her.

“I think…I think I did it.” (Y/N) quietly said. Max smiled, feeling the connection (Y/N) made.

“You did. Now instead of focusing on my presence, try to focus on your own. Do you feel the Force around you?”

(Y/N) nodded her head, but remembered that both of them had their eyes closed.

“Yes.”

“Focus on it.”

(Y/N) shifted her focus from Max to herself. In an instance her whole body seemed more energized as she connected with The Force. She felt it flowing through her hands and fingers, running all the way down to her legs.

Max opened his eyes, just to check to see how (Y/N) was doing, and he saw that the small specks of dirt and pebbles around her were floating a few inches off the ground. A small smile formed on his face at his padawan’s quick progress.

The two of them meditated until the sun had risen high over Courescant. (Y/N) hadn’t felt the time pass at all once she had focused on making a connection with The Force. She had expected the energized feeling to leave once Max called an end to their meditation session. But she was surprised that it had stayed with her after she opened her eyes.

“So are we just going to sit up here the whole day and meditate or are you going to teach me other stuff? Oh! Maybe you can teach me how to use one of those laser swords that I saw Seb and Kimi use.” (Y/N) said as she dusted dirt off her robe.

“You’re no way near prepared to learn how to use a lightsaber.” Max told her, offering a hand to help her stand. (Y/N) pouted but accepted his help up.

“Some stuff I will teach you will seem boring but it is essential.” Max said. “But we’re done with the boring stuff for today.”

“What now?”

Max looked out at the Courscant skyline. His eyes landed on a big building that could rival the Jedi Temple in terms of architecture.

“Well, I’ve been advised that I must keep your training to be inside The Temple. However not everything a Jedi learns or does is within these walls.” Max said, giving a mischievous grin to his padawan “And, what Seb doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

(Y/N)’s face mirrored the mischief on Max’s face.

~~~

“If anyone asks us why we’re here, tell them we’re looking for Master Vettel.” Max whispered to (Y/N) as they walked into a very elaborate building. After boarding a shuttle from The Temple, Max told her that he was going to show her some parts of Coruscant. And the first place he decided to show her was the Senate Building.

“What are we doing here, exactly?” (Y/N) asked as the two of them walked past various people of different races and species. Most were dressed in well designed clothing.

“Sometimes the Jedi are asked to sit in on Senate meetings for either advice or input. Master Vettel is here all the time even though The Senate doesn’t always listen to his advice.” Max told her.

“That still doesn’t answer my question. Why are the two of us here specifically? Is sitting in a Senate meeting going to teach me something about being a Jedi?” (Y/N) asked. Max let out a chuckle.

“No, we won’t sit in on any meetings today. Though there may come a time where you may have to sit in on one or even give input. It depends on the matter. I think the meetings are boring from what little I’ve had to sit in on.” Max said. “I just thought it would be a good idea for you to see where all the big decisions that affect The Republic are made.”

(Y/N) looked around at the elaborate architecture and the fine clothes that people were wearing around her. (Y/N) couldn’t help but scowl a bit.

“All this fancy stuff for a big group of people that don’t seem to do much for the people that actually need help.” (Y/N) mumbled.

“I’m sorry?” Max looked at his padawan confused. (Y/N) was about to respond to him when an older gentleman with brown hair and fine burgundy robes approached the two.

“If it isn’t the famed Jedi Knight, Max Verstappen.” The man said, patting Max’s shoulder like they were old friends.

“Oh, hello Senator Horner. How are matters going?” Max asked, greeting the older man. The man, Senator Horner, smiled.

“It’s been a very eventful morning. As of this moment, I am no longer a Senator but am now the Supreme Chancellor of The Senate.” He said.

“Oh, congratulations! This seems so sudden though.”

“Well considering the previous Chancellor hadn’t been delivering what the people wanted ever since he was elected and issues with the Trade Federation have been mounting up to where there could be a full out war any day now, a vote of no confidence was called and I was elected Chancellor.” Chancellor Horner explained. He then noticed the younger padawan standing next to Max

“And who might you be?” Chancellor Horner asked, kneeling in front of (Y/N) and offering his hand for her to shake.

“I’m (Y/N). Max’s new padawan.” (Y/N) shook his hand and a look of surprise displayed on Chancellor Horner’s face. (Y/N) looked at him a bit confused.

“Forgive the surprise that’s on my face. Max has mentioned multiple times that he wouldn’t take on a padawan, but you seem to be an exception.” Chancellor Horner said. While his face did show a bit of shock, there was something else in his gaze that (Y/N) couldn’t quite name.

“With Max as your teacher, I’m sure you’ll soon make a fine Jedi. I shall watch your career with great interest. But for now I must attend to some matters as the new Supreme Chancellor. Farewell you two.” Chancellor Horner bade Max and (Y/N) goodbye before being swept up in conversation with another passing senator. (Y/N) watched him walk away but Max’s attention was drawn to a beautiful woman dressed in elegant white and purple robes. Her face was put in a nervous expression as she partially bit her lower lip. Max smiled.

“Senator Piquet!” Max called out, practically rushing over to the woman. “How are you?”

“Oh, Max! I’m surprised to see you here.” Senator Piquet smiled and greeted Max as (Y/N) hurried over to him.

“I’m showing my new padawan around Coruscant and thought to show her the Senate building.” Max said, placing a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder and sort of ushering her forward.

“Hello. I’m Senator Kelly Piquet of Naboo. What’s your name?” Senator Piquet asked, holding out a hand for the girl to shake the same way Chancellor Horner did.

“I’m (Y/N).” The girl shook her hand. “Forgive me but you looked a little troubled, Senator.”

“Is it that obvious? My apologies. Matters from the recent meeting have made me question my decisions.” Senator Piquet said.

“What was the meeting about? We just heard from Senator Horner that he was just made Chancellor of the Senate.” Max said.

“That’s the matter that troubles me. I was convinced that calling a vote of no confidence was the right thing but now I feel like I may have doomed the senate. That I’ve failed the people of Naboo. I was only just elected and if my first action is one that causes harm, I don’t know how I could live with myself.” Senator Piquet explained.

“Well you won’t really know until time passes.” (Y/N) said.

“I suppose you're right. Besides, I can’t focus my worries on that decision now when the Trade Federation is still blocking trade to Naboo.”

“Any updates on the negotiations?” Max asked.

“No. I unfortunately received word from the Jedi Council that their attempt at negotiation didn’t go well either. If mine and the Jedi Council’s attempt at negotiations didn’t work, I don’t know what will get the Trade Federation to stop.”

“Why don’t both of you try to approach the Trade Federation to negotiate? If the Trade Federation is just one entity, then two should be better against one.” (Y/N) suggested.

“That is something I haven’t actually thought about.” Senator Piquet said. “You actually have a really good suggestion, (Y/N). I’ll have to meet with the governing body of Naboo first, but I’d like to attempt your idea.”

“If you do, I’d be happy to accompany you to the negotiations. For your protection” Max said. (Y/N) noticed blush start to slowly creep up on Max’s face.

“While I appreciate the offer Max, I can assure you that I can take care of myself.” Senator Piquet said. “I have to inform my fellow delegates about the recent Senate meeting now. But it was nice to chat with you and it was lovely to meet you (Y/N).”

“Have a lovely day, Senator Piquet.” Max said as he waved goodbye to the senator. He had an almost goofy grin on his face that (Y/N) noticed. She narrowed her eyes at him

“You seem to really like Senator Piquet.” She said. Max looked down at (Y/N) and shook his head to try and display disbelief. But it didn’t get rid of the blush on his cheeks.

“I do not.” He said. (Y/N) wore a teasing look.

“The hearts in your eyes tell me otherwise.” (Y/N) said. “That’s why you brought us here. Not to show me anything but so you can talk to Senator Piquet.”

“You’re being delusional.” Max said, ruffling his padawan’s hair before looking back at Senator Piquet. “Besides, the code forbids Jedi from having any romantic attachments."

(Y/N) watched as an older gentleman approached Senator Piquet and greeted her with a kiss. Max’s smile fell and his face hardened.

“She’s also married.” Max said, almost somberly as he stared at the man that now had his arm around the Senator. He turned around, not wanting to look at the scene anymore. (Y/N) looked for a bit longer, at the glowing faces of Senator Piquet and her husband, before she too turned around and looked at Max.

“Do you have a favorite place to go to in Coruscant?” She asked. Max nodded his head but didn’t say anything.

“Why don’t you show it to me.”

Max’s favorite place on Coruscant turned out to be a noodle shop in the middle level of the planet that Max claimed “served the best noodle dishes”. (Y/N) could agree with that statement as the dishes did taste delicious. They also seemed to improve Max’s mood, as he seemed relaxed and somewhat happy when they got back to The Temple.

“Remember, don’t tell anyone I took you out of the Temple.” Max whispered to (Y/N) as they walked through the entrance.

“I won’t say a thing.” (Y/N) promised him, crossing her heart for emphasis.

“Was today a good lesson?” Max asked.

“Yea. I think it was pretty good.” (Y/N) told him. Max smiled.

“Good. Tomorrow I want to assess your ability with using The Force to move objects like Seb told me you could do. Then…maybe I’ll teach you how to use a training saber.”

“Really?” Excitement spread across the girl’s face and she almost started bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“I said maybe. No guarantee.” Max said. “I’ll let you have the rest of the day to yourself. If you need me, I’ll be in the training room.”

“Ok, see you tomorrow Max!” (Y/N) waved and turned to leave, but something caught Max’s attention.

“Wait!” Max kneeled in front of (Y/N) and gently took her attempt of a braid in his hands. He undid it and braided the strands properly before tying it off with a hair band and a small yellow bead he had taken from his pocket.

“Sorry, but it’s been bugging me the whole day.” Max said. “That bead on the end is the same one I wore when I was a padawan.”

(Y/N) held the newly done braid in front of her face to get a good look at it. She stared at the bead and smiled before looking at Max.

“Thank you.” She said before heading back to her quarters.

~~~

KNOCK! KNOCK!

A knock at her door interrupted (Y/N)’s routine of getting ready for bed. She threw on her robe before opening her door to reveal Logan standing in front of her. Behind him, Oscar stood a few feet away.

“Hi Logan. Hi Oscar.” (Y/N) said, greeting the two boys. Oscar waved from behind Logan.

“Hey (Y/N). Me and Oscar are going to sneak up to the roof and watch the ships and speeders fly by. Do you want to join us?” Logan asked. His voice was quiet, almost like he didn’t want anyone nearby to hear what he was proposing.

“You’re talking like that’s not something we’re supposed to do.” (Y/N) whispered, matching Logan’s tone. She smiled. “I’m in!”

Logan and Oscar lead (Y/N) through a different route than the one her and Max took to get to the roof earlier this morning. Going up a set of stairs, the three padawans emerged onto a different part of the temple roof that (Y/N) had not seen before. This part gave a perfect view of the skyway filled with bustling ships and speeders driving past. The various lights from the ships, speeders, and neon billboards lit up the night sky, almost to the point where it was hard to see the stars. At least from this part of the city.

“Think there will be any new ones tonight?” Oscar asked as he leaned over the railing.

“I heard there was a big Senate meeting today so there might be some ships from other planets.” Logan said. He squinted at one of the many skyways before his face lit up.

“Aha! That’s an RE60. You don’t see those types of ships often on Coruescant.” Logan had pointed to a yellow, black, and white speeder ship that seemed to not want to be stuck in the traffic that it was in.

“Oh, there’s an A522. Those ships were always coming for repairs back on Tattoonie.” (Y/N) said as she pointed out a pink and blue freight ship.

“Do you know a bit about ships and speeders?” Oscar asked. (Y/N) couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“I worked at a repair and spare parts shop before I came here. Of course I know a bit about ships and speeders.” (Y/N) told him.

“What’s your favorite model then? I personally like the FW46 speeder.” Logan said.

“Mate that speeder hasn’t been performing well from what I’ve heard. Now the MCL60? That’s where it’s at in terms of good speeders.” Oscar said.

“I think you’re both wrong. The best speeder is the SF24.” (Y/N) said. The three padawans started to argue about the better models of ships and speeders. It almost got pretty heated until the three’s attention was drawn to someone speeding past the various skyways with sentry droids chasing it.

“That person’s driving like a maniac.” (Y/N) mumbled.

“That’s how it is on Coruscant.” Logan told her as he gestured with his hand to the skyways in front of them. (Y/N)’s eyes were drawn to Logan’s gloves. They seemed out of place to the regular garb she, Oscar and others were wearing around the temple.

“Can I ask, what’s with the gloves?” (Y/N) said. Logan looked down at his gloves with a bit of nervousness and (Y/N) thought that she may have crossed a line. “You don’t have to tell me, I’m just a bit curious.”

Logan shook his head and the nervousness went away.

“No, it’s ok. I’ve got a…unique ability where if I touch something, I can see it’s past.” Logan said.

“No way! That’s so cool!” (Y/N) exclaimed.

“Really?” Logan seemed a bit shocked at the girl’s amazement.

“Yea! You can see the history of an object! You could see what it’s been through or how it was made!” (Y/N) said. “Do the gloves help with that?”

“Well the gloves actually help dampen my psychometry. That’s what Master Albon calls it.” Logan said. He watched a speeder fly past before speaking again.

“When I first came to The Order, everything I touched I would get a vision from it, it was very overwhelming. Now, depending on the object, I could still get a vision from it even with the gloves on. But I’m working on trying to choose when I have these visions so that I’m not just hit with a vision on immediate touch.” Logan explained.

“That sounds really interesting.” (Y/N) said before turning to Oscar. “What about you Oscar? Do you have any unique abilities?”

“Nah. Not that I’m aware of anyway. But I’m still just a padawan and I’m still learning so who knows. Maybe I’ll discover something while I’m training under Master Norris.” Oscar said. Then he turned to (Y/N) “How bout you?”

“I don’t think I have any special abilities. I mean…Sebastian, well I guess I need to call him Master Vettel now, he said that he thinks I could be an exceptional Jedi. But when he was talking with The Council, they mentioned that he thinks I’m “The Chosen". Whatever that means.” (Y/N) explained.

“Seems like Master Vettel has high expectations for you. Who did they assign to be your teacher?” Logan asked.

“Max. Uh, Master Vestappen is I guess how he’s known but he wants me to just call him Max because he felt weird being addressed by the title of “Master””(Y/N) said. Both boys looked at her with shock.

“What?!”

“Get out. They gave you Verstappen?”

“Is he a good teacher?” (Y/N) asked them.

“Beats me. He’s never been assigned a padawan but he’s also the youngest padawan to be promoted to a Jedi Knight.” Oscar told her.

“When was he promoted?” (Y/N) asked.

“Two years ago, when he was 14. The Council must have really big expectations for you if they gave you Verstappen.” Logan said. (Y/N)’s happy mood seemed to start to sour a bit. She already knew that Seb had high expectations of her and she already assumed Max was somewhat of a big deal in The Temple. But the fact that he was the youngest padawan to become a Jedi Knight, and he was assigned to be her teacher, what does that say for the expectations The Council had for (Y/N). She tried not to think about it, instead focusing back on trying to name ships with Logan and Oscar. For right now, they were just padawans enjoying the night skyline.

But they weren’t the only ones up late. Back in the temple, Seb was meeting with some of his fellow Jedi Masters.

“I do agree with you that your encounter with a Sith is cause for worry.” Master Webber said as they sat in the council room. Currently the council was discussing Seb and Kimi’s encounter with the Sith back on Tatoonie and how to go about handling the matter.

“I think we should be concerned about the growing dark side activity I’ve encountered on previous missions. None of it seemed to connect to one another, but the amount of it is questionable.” Kimi said. “I think the Sith we encountered was a part of it.”

“If it does seem like the Sith are coming back, I think we should stop this matter for it even has a chance to see the light of day.” Master Hamilton said.

“How do we go about this then?” Master Button asked. “If the Sith have been hiding for this long, they’re not going to be easy to find.”

“Well we know what caused the Sith to appear on Tatoonie.” Master Webber said, looking at Seb. Seb looked at Master Webber with a quizzical look.

“I hope you're not implying what I think you’re implying.” Seb said.

“It seems like our only known option to lure the Sith out.”

“You want to use (Y/N) as bait?” Seb asked, disbelief at the own words that had to come out of his mouth

“If it means we can lure a potential Sith out of hiding and stop whatever they may be planning before it even starts, then yes.” Master Webber said.

“How exactly would you go about that? She just started her training with no real means to defend herself if something were to happen!” Seb exclaimed. “There has to be another way.”

“We wouldn’t have her be by herself, that’s ridiculous. She’d at least have Knight Verstappen with her.” Master Rosberg said. “If we wait any longer, it just gives the Sith and whoever they may be working with to properly plan something, if they haven’t already.”

“I think we may already have a possible plan that could work.” Kimi said. Everyone’s attention turned to him.

“Senator Piquet reached out to us. About the possibility of both the Jedi Order and Naboo jointly trying to negotiate with the Trade Federation. I think this could serve as a possibility for us to also lure out our Phantom.” Kimi proposed.

“What do you mean?”

“I think that the Phantom was a part of the group of ships that chased us down the first time we tried to negotiate. Which means the phantom that was after (Y/N) is working with the Trade Federation.” Kimi said.

“That would put both Senator Piquet and (Y/N) in possible danger.” Seb said.

“Not if we anticipate the danger. Senator Piquet will have her guards and Kimi and Seb, you can go in and be part of the negotiations. We’ll ask Verstappen to come along as extra protection for the Senator and that brings (Y/N) along with him.”

“What you’re proposing is unbelievable.” Seb said, disgust lacing his voice.

“But it can assure peace for both us and the Republic.” Master Webber. “All those in favor of this plan?”

Seven hands with up, including Kimi’s.

“All those opposed.”

Seb’s hand was the only one raised.

“It is decided then on how we will tackle this matter of The Sith.”

Seb left the meeting with disbelief and disgust at the Council’s decision. He knew this was a bad idea. No matter how much he will mediate on the matter later, Seb couldn’t shake the feeling that something would go wrong.

~~~

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