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pedroscurls · 2 months ago

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feels like home

PART 1: SOMETHIN' IN YOUR EYES

summary: joel meets the new bartender at the tipsy bison and finds himself opening up in ways he didn't think was possible anymore.

pairing: jackson!joel x fem!reader content warning(s): alcohol consumption, age gap (joel is in 50s, reader is in 30s), mutual attraction/pining, joel calls you darlin' and angel, mention of death/grief, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n. word count: 4.3k a/n: it's been a very long time since i've written a multi-chaptered fic, but the song feels like home has consumed my thoughts and made me think about joel, so i had to write a story about it. the song will be a constant theme through this story, so please stay tuned and if you wanna give it a listen, it makes the reading experience even better <3 song: feels like home by randy newman (jørgen dahl moe cover) part 2. | series masterlist.

somethin’ in your eyes, makes me want to lose myself makes me want to lose myself, in your arms

When Joel arrived in Jackson with Ellie for the first time, it felt like a dream. It was a glimpse of what the world used to be before the outbreak and right in the middle of it was Tommy. The plan was to never stay in Jackson—he had promised Ellie he would take her to the Fireflies—but after Salt Lake City, Joel knew that Jackson was the only place that could give Ellie a sense of normalcy in an otherwise fucked up world.

At first, Ellie had a hard time adjusting to Jackson. She had been on edge—after all, the young girl only ever knew about quarantine zones and FEDRA. Everything about Jackson felt too good to be true and she struggled to accept the fact that she deserved to be here. Ellie believed that her main purpose in this life was to cure the sickness that took over this world, but now it no longer was possible. She felt like she failed—the same way she failed Sam. So when Joel decided that Jackson was going to be the place they’d spend the rest of their days at, she battled with the possibility of living a different life than what other people had told her.

But then she met Jesse. Cat. Dina. Ellie had established her own community with people her age and finally, she felt hopeful—optimistic. Maybe she could find another way to make her life matter.

Joel, on the other hand, had made the conscious decision to keep to himself. He knew that he didn’t need anyone else other than Ellie, Tommy, Maria, and Benjamin. If people around the community needed help, Joel wouldn’t hesitate to offer his assistance—as long as he was capable—but that was the extent of his socializing. It was purely transactional. There’s a part of him that wishes he can open himself up in a way that Ellie has—even in a way that Tommy and Maria have—but he knows that there’s a fear that lingers in the pit of his stomach. He lost Sarah. He lost Tess.

And he almost lost Ellie.

Joel can’t let anyone else in, can’t let anyone get too close because there’s still the reality that not everyday is a guarantee. It gnaws at him—persistent, ever-present—that he can’t get too comfortable. Jackson provides a sense of security, a sense of safety but he knows… Joel knows that anything can happen. If he lets another person in—if he opens his heart and lowers his guard—there’s a strong possibility that his world will shatter all over again.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to socialize,” Tommy says, watching Joel hold Benjamin in his arms. The baby wiggles and for a fleeting moment, Tommy sees the same man that held Sarah for the first time.

“Now why would I do that?” Joel asks, bringing his free hand to Benjamin's face. The baby gurgles and reaches up to grip Joel’s finger in his tiny hand. “I got all that I need right here.”

“Joel, come on.” Tommy shakes his head.

“M’fine, Tommy. I got Ellie. Got you and Maria, and this little guy, too.”

“Don’t it get lonely, Joel?”

Joel’s jaw tightens. Tommy notices. “Ain’t lonely.”

Tommy sighs. “Ellie’s worried about you.”

Joel takes his eyes away from Benjamin to look over at Tommy. His eyes soften instantly and he leans back against the couch, slowly rocking the baby in his arms. “She shouldn’t be.”

“But she is,” Tommy responds. “She’s getting to that age where she’s gonna want to spend more time with her friends and less time with you.”

“M’fine,” he repeats. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Joel…” Tommy says quietly. “At least have some fun.”

“Fun?” Joel arches a brow.

“Yeah, you know… Get laid or somethin’.”

Joel lets out a quiet chuckle and shakes his head. “Ain’t talkin’ with you about this.”

“Oh please,” Tommy rolls his eyes. “You have eyes. So many women around here would love to get a chance with the mysterious Joel Miller,” he smirks.

Joel gently takes his hand away from Benjamin's grip to reach for a throw pillow, chucking it in the direction of his younger brother. Tommy easily dodges the pillow and both men erupt in quiet laughter. Maria descends the stairs and smiles in both directions before Joel stands and gently hands her Benjamin. The baby immediately curls against Maria and he chuckles. “He’s a mama’s boy, ain’t he?”

“He’s got a soft spot for daddy,” Tommy laughs. He stands from the couch and walks over to Maria. He places a hand on her lower back and presses a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Joel and I are gonna head to the Tipsy Bison. Want me to grab some food on my way back?”

Maria shakes his head. “It’s okay, baby. Gonna make some soup.”

Tommy nods and then glances over at Joel, grinning. “We’re going to the Tipsy Bison.”

“Didn’t tell me that.”

“Just did.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “One drink, that’s all.”

Tommy nods, clasping his older brother’s shoulders. “One drink,” he grins.

Joel walks alongside Tommy, hands moving into his pockets. He can hear the chatter coming from inside the bar and when he steps inside, it becomes too much all at once. Tommy leads him to two seats at the counter and Joel sits down immediately, nodding once in Tommy’s direction.

“Go on then,” he says.

“Just gonna say some hi to some folks,” Tommy replies apologetically. “Then I’ll be back.”

Joel shrugs. “Duty calls, little brother, but after one drink, I’m headin’ home.” He rests his forearms on the edges of the counter, squeezing himself far away from everyone else as possible.

He glances up only to see Seth walk at the opposite end of the bar, but the older man gives him a nod—a signal to let him know that he’s next. Joel’s mind drifts to Ellie—had she really been that worried about him? He sighs to himself, lowers his head and taps his fingers impatiently—anxiously—against the wooden countertop.

Tommy’s words come to mind: Get laid. He scoffs quietly to himself. Joel knows the last time he’s been with anyone intimately was Tess and even then, he couldn’t open himself up in a way that she wanted—he had always been guarded. It worked with Tess because she never pushed; there was an unspoken agreement, an understanding that it would never be more than just sex.

And he’s older now—he can’t just go around the community, hooking up with women just to alleviate the loneliness he feels. Joel would never admit it, but the house does feel more quiet, empty now that Ellie’s in the garage.

Suddenly, he hears a voice that pulls him out of his thoughts. In a loud room filled with chatter and laughter, Joel zeroes in on you. He looks up and sees you quickly make your way to Seth, pulling on a faded, dark green waist apron that you tie around your waist.

“I’m so sorry, Seth,” Joel hears you say. “I overslept and—”

“It’s fine. You’re here now. We got a busy night,” Seth responds. “Can you get Joel?”

Joel’s eyes quickly avert to stare at the decoration that’s hung along the wall, but there’s a pull that he feels in the pit of his stomach. Something he can’t ignore because he glances back in your direction and his eyes meet your own. He clears his throat—there’s something in your eyes that makes all the tension melt away. It’s soft, inviting, welcoming—there’s a sudden sense of calm and peace that washes over him under your gaze.

Then, he sees you smile. You nod at Seth and begin walking in his direction. Joel straightens up in his seat—he can feel his heart beating faster as you approach him. He’s never seen you around Jackson before and he didn’t know that Seth had help here at the Tipsy Bison either—socializing, he can hear Tommy’s voice in his head. If Joel had bothered to socialize, maybe he would have seen you sooner.

“Hi,” you smile, hands resting against the edge of the counter. You’re standing in front of him—eyes still locked with his own. “What can I get you?”

“Just a beer,” he answers. Joel doesn’t return your smile with his own, but you don’t falter. You give him a nod and grab a glass before turning around to pour the beer into his mug. He shouldn’t look—Joel knows he shouldn’t—but he can’t help the way his eyes deviate from your shoulders down to your waist and hips, settling on the nice curves of your plump ass, down your legs and back up. He lets his eyes rake over your frame a few seconds longer before you turn back around, glass filled with beer and the same kind smile on your lips.

“Thank you,” Joel mutters, watching you set the glass right in front of him. “Are you new around here?” He asks.

You shake your head and move to cross your arms over your chest. Joel’s gaze flickers briefly—you’re wearing a v-neck shirt and your movement causes a more prominent showing of cleavage.

“Not in Jackson, but new here at the Tipsy Bison,” you answer. “I teach during the day and then help Seth out at night on some nights.”

“Why?” Joel asks.

You shrug. “Because he needed help… Besides, that’s what Jackson’s all about, isn’t it?”

Joel lets the corner of his lips turn upwards—he knew exactly what you meant. He liked feeling useful, liked to keep busy by helping people around the town too. “Yeah, yeah guess you’re right. I’m Joel.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” you grin. There’s a glint of mischief in your eyes—like you know something he doesn’t.

Joel arches a brow. “Huh. What’s with that look?”

“Nothing.”

“Ain’t look like nothin’ to me.” Joel answers, lifting the glass of beer to his lips and taking a swig of the contents.

“You just—” Joel sees you bite your lower lip nervously as he watches your eyes move towards the length of his neck, down to his throat when he swallows. “A lot of women like to talk, that’s all.”

“Yeah?” Joel smirks. “And what do they say, darlin’?”

You narrow your eyes and lean forward—almost in his personal space, but not quite. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Miller.” Then, you step back and wink at him. Before he can even say a word, you turn on your heel to help the other patrons who had been flagging you down to get their order. Joel watches you carefully, sees you glance over your shoulder in his direction. Your eyes meet his again and Joel feels that same calmness wash over him. He didn’t even get a chance to ask you for your name.

Tommy breaks him out of his thoughts by plopping down on the barstool next to him. When he waves his hand, it’s Seth that comes by to take the other man’s order—a glass of scotch, neat.

“Sorry,” he mumbles to Joel.

“All good,” Joel answers. “Hey, I didn’t know that Seth got some help runnin’ this place.”

Tommy arches a brow and then glances at Joel before his eyes sweep the area—until they land on you. Then, a knowing smirk lines his lips as he brings the glass up to his lips.

“If you’d come out more often, you’d know.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “What’s her name?”

Tommy chuckles. “You tellin’ me you didn’t ask her?”

“Was gonna,” Joel mutters under his breath. “But she got busy.”

“Well then,” the younger man winks. “That’s your homework for tonight.”

Joel scoffs and gently shoves Tommy. “Get outta here.”

Tommy laughs quietly and sets the glass down back on the counter. “Come on, Joel. She keeps looking over here at you. Have some fun.”

Joel looks over at you and catches your stare. You bite your lower lip again. Under his gaze, you feel your cheeks heat up and spread along your chest and neck. You try to busy yourself, but you can’t help the tug you feel in your chest—like an invisible string tying you to him, a reminder that he’s just right there.

“Maybe,” Joel finally says. “Maybe.”

Tommy grins broadly and clinks his glass with Joel’s. “Attaboy. ‘Sides, I think she’d be good for you. She’ll certainly keep you on your toes, that’s for sure.”

Joel looks away from you and turns to Tommy, curiosity spread across his features. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Guess there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” Tommy chuckles.

“You’re annoying. Talkin’ in riddles and shit,” Joel shakes his head.

“All I’m sayin’,” Tommy smiles. “Is that you deserve to have some fun… and so does she.”

“Right,” Joel replies. He takes another swig of his beer and sets his now empty glass on the counter. He’s about to stand up when you appear right in front of both the Miller brothers. Tommy nods your way, smiling politely and kindly like he usually does. You return the smile, but when your eyes move to Joel’s, it’s like you’re rooted where you stand.

“Need another refill?” You ask.

Joel shakes his head. “One’s enough, darlin’. Thank you though.”

“Oh,” you reply—disappointment in your tone. “Well, have a good night, Joel.”

You turn around and Tommy nudges Joel, his arm shoving against the older man’s—a gentle reminder for him to ask your name. It’s a gentle push of encouragement. Joel sighs inaudibly and stands up, quietly calling out to you, “Wait, hey…”

You turn around instantly and look up at him—biting that lower lip again that Joel suddenly feels the urge to do himself. “Yeah?”

“I didn’t catch your name,” he says, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

A bright smile lines your lips and you answer, telling him your name. Joel smiles to himself and he nods, pocketing both hands into his jeans. “Nice to meet you, darlin’.”

“Hope I get to see you around here more often, Joel.” There’s a hopeful tone in your voice and neither of you bother to even break eye contact. Tommy’s watching this interaction unfold with excitement because finally, you might be the reason to help Joel see that there is more to this life than what he had gotten used to.

“As long as you’re here, maybe,” Joel smiles, nodding once in your direction before he breaks the gaze to look at Tommy.

“Good night, big brother,” Tommy winks.

“Night,” Joel answers, hand coming up to clasp the younger man’s shoulder. He squeezes once before he turns on his heel to leave the building, but not before he spares another glance at you.

Joel sits at his workbench later that night, staring at the unfinished guitar he was working on. It’s late and he knows Ellie’s at Dina’s for the night. Tommy’s words echo in his mind as his hand brushes along the wood.

Don’t it get lonely, Joel?

Joel sighs and stands from the stool. It is lonely. It has been lonely, but the fear of opening himself up to let someone in is far too risky.

Then, his mind drifts to the brief interaction with you. There had been something in your eyes that pulled him in and made him want to stay. You had a way of making all of the noise disappear—that with one look, he felt like he could breathe.

The Tipsy Bison is closing soon and Joel doesn’t hesitate to grab his coat and leave his home. He doesn’t give himself enough time to talk himself out of it because Tommy’s right. He does deserve to have some fun—it doesn’t need to be serious, he tells himself.

After a few minutes, Joel steps inside and revels in the quiet. He glances around, notices a few lingering patrons that are sitting at the counter. He wonders if they have the same thoughts that usually keep him up at night. Then, Joel sees you in his peripheral. You’re wiping down the tables, extremely focused as you move throughout the area. Joel clears his throat and walks over to you. He watches your gaze move from the table and up at him—suddenly, a smile lines your lips.

“Joel,” you say quietly.

“Hi,” he replies—barely above a whisper. He points to the towel in your hand and asks, “You need some help?”

“Oh,” you answer, shocked. “You don’t have to. I got this and—”

Joel shakes his head and then gently reaches out to take the towel from your hands. “That’s what Jackson is all about, ain’t it?” He grins, winking in your direction.

“Yeah,” you bite your lower lip and nod. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, angel.” Joel then moves to the other tables that you hadn’t yet cleaned and you watch him for a moment. He had removed his coat and draped it over a vacant barstool. You watch his strong arms move across the table—muscles flexing through the white t-shirt he’s wearing.

You’ve heard women talk about him, have even heard some stories from some men too, but there was just something about Joel that you wanted to get to know. The women found him attractive—stoic, quiet, mysterious. The men were intimidated by him—stories from his past coming to light.

You watch the fabric of his shirt stretch over his broad back and when he rests one hand on the table to brace himself while he reaches for the top of it, you watch as the shirt rides up slowly to reveal the waistband of his boxers and jeans. You clear your throat, turning around quickly to retrieve another towel.

Seth had left for the night, leaving it up to you to close. You didn’t mind though—it gets very lonely in your home. It’s one of the reasons why you offered to help him out because when you’re alone, especially at night, the lingering thoughts start to surface. Being around other people, busying yourself, helps keep those thoughts at bay.

When you dampen the towel with water, you walk back over to Joel and begin wiping it down. Joel glances up at you and he smiles—big enough for you to see the dimple that appears on his cheek.

You look away for a moment to see the last couple of people leave—now just you and Joel alone.

“So,” he says quietly. “Teacher, huh?”

“It was either teaching or cooking,” you laugh quietly. “And I don’t want you all to suffer from my cooking.”

Joel lets out a quiet chuckle. “Not much of a cook?”

“God, no. Everything I seem to make either burns or is bland as shit.”

Joel’s laughter becomes louder now—he feels lighter around you, like all of the problems of the world no longer rest on his shoulders. “Can’t say I’m any different.”

“No?” You smile, moving to the table nearby. Joel follows you, standing on the other end.

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “Before all of this,” Joel begins, waving his hand in the air. “My baby girl used to cook for me.” When he looks at you, you’re staring at him with the softest eyes—it makes him feel like it’s okay to talk about Sarah. “My daughter, she was…” he bites his lower lip. “She was the best.”

You stop wiping the table and walk around to stand next to him. Gently, you rest a hand on his shoulder and you can see the pain etched on his features. You can feel the tension in his body. “Yeah? What would she cook for you?”

Joel relaxes under your touch. “Anything. Everything. Most nights, I’d come home late because I was workin’. She’d be there when I’d get home—food on a plate on our dining table. Would say you’re late dad, but you need to eat.” Tears sting his eyes. “She took care of me… when I should’ve been taking care of her.”

Slowly, you bring him to sit down on the chair and you sir across from him. Your hand moves from his shoulder to his hand—it’s so much bigger than your own. “I’m sure you did your best,” you say quietly. “And I’m sure she knew that.”

Joel shrugs, doesn’t respond. He’s already said too much—his walls have come down and he isn’t sure what it is about you that makes it so easy.

“Sorry,” Joel mumbles. “We just met and here I am, cryin’ all over you.”

You smile and meet his eyes—Joel can’t help but get lost in your gaze. He’s already thinking and yearning for the next time he gets to see you again.

“I guess I owe you one then, huh?” You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Oh, angel. You don’t have to—”

You squeeze his hand and shake your head. “I’m always asking people if they need help because it’s hard for me when the world is quiet…” You keep your hand over his but you drop your eyes to the floor. “I like when I’m busy, when I’m around other people because then my mind doesn’t ever get a chance to remind me of all the horrible shit I’ve done or seen.”

Joel sets the towel on the table and rests his hand over your own. He holds it on his lap, thumb brushing along the back of your hand—it’s a subtle gesture to comfort you, to reassure you that he’s here and he’s listening.

Joel nods—he understands completely.

“I had a younger brother,” you tell him. “The world ended when we were so young and our parents were gone before that. He had such a big heart, even in this world. Always wanting to help people, never wanting them to hurt. In the end, it only got him killed.” You bite the inside of your cheek as you slowly pull your hand from Joel’s. “He would have loved Jackson.”

“M’sorry, angel,” Joel whispers, already missing the feel of your hand in his own.

“I’m sorry too,” you reply quietly. “I bet your girl would’ve loved Jackson too.”

Joel nods, smiles sadly and then stands up. “She would have, yeah. Come on. Let’s finish cleanin’ so I can walk you home.”

“You know it’s late right?” You tell him, standing from your chair. “You don’t have to stay this long.”

Joel shrugs. “Guess I also don’t want to give my mind a chance to remind me of all the people I’ve lost, or the things I’ve done either.”

You nod—it’s a shared understanding that only Joel has made you feel. For the rest of the time, both you and Joel clean the tables and the counter of the bar. After about half an hour, you lead him out of the Tipsy Bison and lock the door behind you.

Joel walks alongside you, hands in his pockets as he glances at you repeatedly from the corners of his eyes. He isn’t sure why he even mentioned Sarah—she had always been such a sensitive topic—but he couldn’t help how easy it was with you, how you bring a sense of peace that he hasn’t felt in decades.

He allows you to lead the way and as you both continue to walk in a comfortable silence, Joel feels you slowly move closer to him. He can’t help but smile to himself.

“So,” you begin, glancing up at him.

“So,” he repeats.

“Will I see you again?” You ask—hopeful. “Can I see you again?”

Joel smiles and sees your home come into view. He walks you towards the front door and nods, moving a hand from his pocket to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I think that can be arranged.”

“I like talking to you,” you grin—the heat in your cheeks rises once more at the feeling of his touch against your cheek. He drops his hand back to his side.

“Me too. You make all the noise go away,” he admits.

You bite your lower lip and watch as his eyes deviate to your lips—it only makes you feel warmer. “Talking about the hard stuff… it’s easy with you.”

Joel smiles—the dimple appearing yet again on his scruffy cheek. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah,” you answer.

“Good,” Joel says. “Because it’s easy with you too.”

There’s a flicker of excitement that Joel catches in your eyes and it’s contagious—your joy, your happiness. “I haven’t let anyone in,” you whisper quietly. “Not since losing my brother.”

Joel nods in understanding. “Me too,” he whispers. “I almost lost Ellie and I told myself that I didn’t need to open up to anyone else, but then…” he brings his hand back up to your cheek, brushes the pad of thumb across your soft skin. “But then I saw you tonight and there’s just somethin’ in your eyes that makes me feel… Lighter. Calmer.”

You clear your throat quietly and nod—his big, brown eyes are staring directly at you. You had seen Joel around Jackson before and while he never noticed you—too focused to get home or not bothering to make small talk with people he passed by—you couldn’t help but have this strange feeling that he made you feel safe. So when you saw him at the Tipsy Bison tonight and felt his eyes finally meet yours, that feeling of safety just amplified.

Suddenly, you wrap your arms around him and rest your cheek against his chest. You can feel the warmth radiate in the pit of your stomach, can hear the sound of his heart beating. Then, when his strong arms wrap around you as well, you melt into him.

He feels like home.

Joel’s taken by surprise when your arms wrap around him, but his arms waste no time in wrapping itself around you. He feels you lean into him and he shuts his eyes, buries his face against your hair.

You feel like home.

“Good night, Joel,” you whisper against him.

“G’night, angel,” he replies.

taglist: @greenwitchfromthewoods @probablyreadinsmut @yxtkiwiyxt @brittmb115 @dendulinka6 @missladym1981

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ekingston · 4 months ago

Text

also on ao3.

“Would you stop fondling my boobs?” Lena hisses, watching as a man nearly wanders into traffic staring at what looks like Lena Luthor, elbow-deep in her own cleavage. He swerves, promptly face-planting into a lamp post when he sees Supergirl herself slap Lena’s hand away. “We’re in public,” Lena reminds her.

“Ouch,” Kara yelps. “Gentle!”

“Sorry,” Lena says. But she only feels a little bad, because at least Kara is now cradling her arm instead of getting Lena arrested for indecent exposure.

Kara is still squirming when Lena checks them in, the receptionist beaming at her in a way Lena has never been beamed at before. Dr. Sattler’s ready for them. Kara gives Lena a last, panicked look, and then she takes the therapist’s offered hand and introduces herself.

“Lena Luthor,” Kara tells Dr. Sattler with a lopsided grin. “Good to meet you.”

“And Supergirl,” Dr. Sattler says, turning to Lena, her gaze briefly flitting down at the S on Lena’s chest. “How wonderful you managed to finally come in.”

Kara flops down onto the couch with a grateful sigh, the skirt of her dress gapping immodestly as she kicks off Lena’s heels. Lena nudges her legs to close them, annoyed. The injustice of Kara getting to act as if she wants to be here. As if she hasn’t been avoiding this visit for months.

(Do we really need to do this? Kara had asked Lena just this morning. Kara’s gaze had been a cross-eyed, sparkling green as Lena applied her eyeliner with a trembling, freckled hand.

Lena had growled in response, knowing even the barest bit of unintentional pressure could blind her for life. We’re not going to cancel just because we’re wearing each other’s bodies, Kara. Hold still.

I bet you’d look good with an eyepatch, Kara had breathed, after which Lena had given up on the endeavor altogether.)

“Your work must keep you busy,” the therapist says magnanimously.

Lena huffs out a laugh. “You can say that again.” And when the Dr. looks at her, curious, “Being a superhero and all that. Always off saving the world!”

“That goes for both of us,” Kara points out. “You—I—don’t even make it to bed, most nights.” And then, softer, “Even when you tell me you’ll wait up.”

“I wish I wouldn’t.” Lena turns to the therapist and explains, “I eat when I’m bored. She comes home to a bed full of crumbs. Who wants to have sex when the sheets are littered with bits of Captain Crunch?”

Dr. Sattler opens her mouth to answer, but Kara doesn’t give her the chance. “Maybe I could make an effort not to be such a neat freak,” she pouts.

Lena’s eyes flash. “Maybe I could make an effort to wash my hands after I use the bathroom,” she snaps back.

Kara sits up. “You do!” she shouts. “You’re just quick about it!”

Lena sighs. “The laws of nature don’t work that way, darling.”

Kara makes a face Lena vows never to make again if she ever gets her body back. “I leave my hair in the shower.”

Lena snorts. “I wash it down the drain. That’s worse.”

“But you fix it!” Kara looks at her with Lena's own wide, pleading eyes. “That’s how—how you show love. By fixing things.”

“Wrong,” Lena flings back. “I break them, so I can feel needed.”

Kara blinks at her, looking hurt.

“That’s.” Dr. Sattler pauses for a moment. “Some very impressive self-reflection,” she decides.

Lena smiles at her, glad they’re getting somewhere.

Kara looks from the therapist to Lena, her blood red lips—easier than eyeliner—pinching together with uncanny chagrin. “I faked my own kidnapping to get out of her family’s Thanksgiving,” she accuses darkly.

Lena sniffs. “I have a codependent relationship with my sister.”

Kara gasps. Dr. Sattler’s eyes widen. Lena arches an eyebrow with considerable effort.

“Oh yeah?” Kara sputters. “Well,” she flails, her nostrils flaring. “You—" she takes a deep breath. "I have mommy issues.”

Oh, fuck no. That's too far. “You do not,” Lena squawks.

"No?" Kara cocks her jaw in a way that makes Lena feel, for the first time, a little sorry for the men she’s similarly stared down. “Let’s find out,” Kara says with the smallest of smirks, and then she retrieves, horribly, from Lena’s purse, Lena’s phone.

“You wouldn’t,” Lena whispers, her heart stopping.

Kara jumps up with surprising agility, dancing out of Lena’s reach. “This’ll just take a second,” she promises Dr. Sattler. “Hello? Mother?”

Lena scrambles over to the other end of the couch, practically throwing herself across the room in an effort to get to Kara.

“No reason,” Kara croons into the phone, grinning as she maneuvers herself away from Lena’s grasp. An elaborately painted and unfortunately placed vase isn’t so lucky. “Just calling to say hey,” Kara says. “It’s been a while, huh?”

Lena really should have taken Kara up on her offer to help Lena master her power of flight. “Don’t make me hurt you,” she yells.

“It is!” Kara sing-songs. “Still going strong, yup. Which is why I called! We were wondering—”

“Don’t you dare,” Lena hisses, clawing for Kara’s shoulder and exploding a couch cushion instead.

“—how would you feel about coming to our wedding?”

Lena freezes, flecks of stuffing falling around them like snow.

“Excellent!” Kara chirps. “We'll see you there.”

Dr. Sattler clears her throat. “I don’t think you two have anything to worry about,” she says. “Your communication style is—unique, but obviously effective.”

Kara beams at her as they're leaving, wearing a deeply pleased expression Lena didn’t even think her face was capable of making. “You really should start wearing more comfortable bras,” she says, rolling her shoulders. “Also maybe take up yoga.”

Lena hums. “You’ve never had any complaints before.”

Kara stops and stares at her, aghast. "Is that what I look like when I'm coming on to you?"

Lena grins at her. "Why do you think I'm marrying you?"

Kara giggles.

- - -

This was written for the multi fandom (and original!) flash fiction challenge, using the prompts ‘established relationship’, ‘at a therapist’s office’, ‘body swap’ and ‘an eyepatch’. You should give it a whirl!

#am i just using this challenge as an excuse to create more covers? maybe #i’ve been trying to do a body swap for years and now there’s. this #which uses exactly zero of any of the concepts i came up with previously #guess there will have to be another 🤷‍♀️#fic by ekingston #multi fandom (and original!) flash fiction challenge #supercorp fan fic

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