Summary: Hate and love are so similar they can often be intertwined, sometimes in the worst possible ways.
Genre: angst/hurt and comfort/happy ending(kinda?)/enemies to lovers
Warnings: character from the movie Albert Nobbs (2011), set in 19th century Dublin, Joe is an asshole, manipulation, illusions to sex, sexual themes, slightly naive!reader, also unlikable!reader, cheating, cursing, based in canon but differs from the original storyline, inspired by WILDFLOWER by Billie Eilish
~ annnddd another atj character unlocked ✔︎ ~
The day Joe Macken arrived was the day your best friend was stolen from you.
Helen has been your best friend since you were little girls, running under your mother's skirts as they worked. You'd both taken this job to stay together, as sisters, and now some bright-eyed, over-confident, boy was trying to ruin that.
You hate him.
You hate the way he walks into a room and Helen's smile widens, how she'll lean into his hand when he walks by her, his fingers brushing her waistline, or how she had moved her clothes out of the room you shared and into his room after what? A month?
You hate Joe's slimy smirk, the way his dark brown hair compliments the dust and grime that would sprinkle his skin from working in the boiler room. When he'll stretch his arms up high, yawning, and give all the maids a view of what's hiding under that shirt of his. You know he does it on purpose.
And worst of all, you hate that sickenly sweet smile he sends you when no one is looking—
"Y/n/n," Helen calls, her voice small. It barely rouses you from your thoughts, the broom loose in your hand. She's so soft-spoken she has to walk closer and touch your shoulder. "Y/n/n, you're daydreaming again," she smiles. You blink away the haze and look at her. She's dressed for an outing. "Joe and I want to go to the farmer's market across town," she says, "I want you to come. He says we can use his money."
You narrow your eyes and hold the broom to your side. Helen has always been naive, but even this was new. "What money?" you ask, your tone harsh. She frowns, blond wisps of hair falling from her small blue hat, and her pretty lips pout the way they always have.
"I know you dislike Joe," she says quietly, averting her gaze, "but I want you both to get along as I love you both."
Your mouth falls open. "Leni? You love him? It's barely been two months."
"That is a long time to be with someone."
"No, it is not," you counter, your nose scrunched in disapproval. Perhaps she is right, perhaps two months is an acceptable time to tell someone you love them. After all, you wouldn't know, you've never been with anyone. Helen is too sweet to use that against you and still, you don't want to admit your ignorance. You'll let her love anyone else—anyone but him.
"Y/n, one promenade? Please, sister," Helen looks at you pleadingly, with the same look she uses whenever she wants something from you and you simply can't say no.
The air is crisp and the wind is still as you walk outside. Perhaps you should have worn a different dress, one with a little more color than just a mousy tan so it could match the endless flower stands. You pull at the itchy sleeves, the ribbon of your Doll Hat unbinding from behind your curls as the hat falls forward. You pause, eyebrows creasing as you reach behind your head to tighten the ribbon, but you feel a cold, fingertip on your neck.
"Leni—" Your lips close as you take a breath. Helen is looking at one of the flower stands in front of you, which means, unless someone else has been so brazen, "I can manage," you snap, and lean forward, your hands skimming his as you tighten the ribbon and glance behind your shoulder.
Joe's dressed the same he usually is. A woolen black coat, his old black Newsboy cap, and that peach-colored neckerchief. He's smirking, his hands still mid-air. "So haughty," he chuckles, dropping his hands to his side, "I don't bite you know."
You straighten up, turning to him. "Highly doubtful," you sneer. You hold your tongue, knowing if Helen heard you she'd be upset with you. Joe is still wearing that horrid smirk of his.
"Speak up." He leans forward, crossing his arms over his chest. "I know you have something to say. You always do."
Your cheeks burn at his words. He's so infuriating. "Fine,"
"Fine." Joe shrugs, that malicious glint is evident in his eye.
"You're a snake. I can see right through you. Helen deserves so much better," you hiss, your voice low. "You'll ruin her and then leave her, I know you will and I despise you for it."
For a second, Joe's smirk falters, but then he grins wider. He seems to enjoy tormenting you. He glances up to make sure Helen isn't watching him and leans in again, his lips ghosting your ear. "Who says I haven't ruined her already?" His Irish accent is thick and raspy. "And y'know what, I don't think you despise me." Your eyes widen and before you can smack him, Helen's innocent voice pulls your attention back to reality and you back away from Joe.
"Roses or Lilacs?" Helen asks you both, holding up the bouquets.
She doesn't seem to mind or has even been paying attention to how close Joe was to you, but your cheeks are still burning. It was improper of him. Bastard.
"Roses, m'love," his sultry voice says, pulling Helen in by her waist. He makes a show of it and that uncomfortable feeling bubbles in your stomach. His other hand rests on her cheek and his thumb strokes her cheek and he attempts to kiss her, only for her to turn her head away and laugh happily. Instead, he nuzzles his nose in her neck. "I adore it when you smell like roses."
You feel even sicker to your stomach now. No one should show this amount of affection in public. Still, something akin to jealousy burns in your stomach. You push it down, trailing behind the lovers as they continue their walk. That afternoon, you return to your room and don't even come out for dinner.
A week later, you're helping the cooks in the kitchen. Your apron is covered in coal as you kneel by the fire, heating the oven. Hair sticks to your sweaty skin as you concentrate on not burning yourself. You hear footsteps and then a familiar voice interrupts your thoughts; "Hiya," the man says happily and you jump up. Edward—Eddie—the gardener stands behind you, looming over you. You smile. Eddie is kind. He's holding a bouquet of daisies from the garden.
"These are for you, Miss Y/l/n," he says and crouches beside you by the fire. You scoot back, hand incredibly close to the burning coal, but you pay it no mind as Eddie's soft brown eyes look into yours. You accept the flowers with a smile, and you expect to feel something stir in your stomach, but nothing happens. Disappointment grows but you still smile.
"Thank you."
"Aye, anythin' for a pretty lady," Eddie grins, moving closer. Your instinct is to move away from him. He's too close. Your smile disappears, replaced with an uneasy frown. Eddie only inches even closer, unaware or unconcerned by your clear rejection.
"Eddie—"
"Oi—"
"Ow!"
You hiss in pain, your palm burning. You've backed into the coal, and your hand now throbs in pain as you clutch your wrist. Eddie backs up, feeling the newcomer's hand on his collar as he's lifted and shoved away. "Can't ya see she's uncomfortable?" Joe snaps, shoving into Eddie again. He's provoking him. You grimace, still holding your injured hand as tears threaten to spill. It hurts so badly.
"Mind your business, Macken," Eddie growls, clenching his fists. He's taller and larger than Joe is, but Joe's unpredictable and that makes him all the more dangerous. Cooks and maids rush in, causing the men to disperse, and Joe rushes to your side. He crouches down beside you, reaching for your injured palm. Reluctantly, you let him.
He looks up and frowns when he sees the tears streaming down your cheeks. "Don't ya cry now, c'mon," he helps you up, nodding to the cooks and maids, "I'll fix ya up, Poppet. Helen would kill me if she knew I let this happen to you."
"It's not your fault," you manage to croak through the pain. For once, it isn't his fault.
Joe chuckles dryly. "'Tis my fault. After all, you're just like Helen when I met her. Ya don't know men, not really, it was only a matter of time before that ol' bastard tried something with ya."
"He didn't try anything," you argue, too preoccupied with proving Joe wrong to realize he's led you to his room. He drops you onto the bed and goes to wet a cloth in his wash bowl. Joe returns and wraps your hand in the cold cloth, soothing the burn. He laughs this time. "Perhaps. At least not outwardly, but he would have if I hadn't come in and you hadn't gone and burned your hand." Joe gently runs a thumb over your palm, smiling at you.
It's a different smile that you're used to and you feel your cheeks warm. You look away.
After a minute or so, he opens the wrap and applies some lamp oil to your burn. "This will help with the pain," he says. You watch him work, dark hair falling over his eyes and you feel something stir inside you. Embarrassment heats your cheeks. Not again. Not with him.
Joe drops your hand to your knee and rests his on your wrist. He catches your gaze and time stands still. Your breathing is heavy. The lighting in the room is so dim you can barely make out his expression, but that infuriating smirk is back. His hand inches up your knee towards your thigh and you let out a small gasp.
Helen. You should be thinking of her.
"I'll stop if you want me to, darling. Although, I don't think you want that, hm," Joe teases, his hand inching higher as he leans in. You don't lean away. You should, God you know you should but you don't move. His other hand finds your cheek and he tilts his head, his breath warm on your lips.
"Have you ever been kissed?"
His question causes you to squeeze your thighs together and you shut your eyes. You shake your head.
"No."
"Good girl."
His lips find yours with passion, his hand curling in your hair and messing up your bun. Your maid's bonnet falls and Joe pulls you closer. You kiss him back, your lips moving clumsily with his. The pain in your hand is long forgotten and replaced with a dull ache in your chest. How can this feel so right when it's so wrong?
You pull away, shaking your head. "Helen—"
Joe just kisses you again, smirking into your lips when you kiss him all the same. Your uninjured hand grips his shirt and he lets out a laugh. He pulls away just enough to mutter, "I knew you weren't who she said you were. You sneaky girl. Kissing your best friend's lover." You let out a whimper and you feel him whisper in your ear. "You hate me because you're just like me. We deserve each other."
Finally, you push him away and scramble up. Your legs feel shaky and your lips tingle. You rush to the door and scramble down the stairs. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you feel sick. That night, you lock yourself in your room. All kinds of confusing emotions swirl inside you but one thing is clear, you would kiss Joe Macken again. You're horrible.
Joe doesn't leave Helen, not that soon at least—it takes weeks. Weeks that you spend in his bed, behind her back, kissing and touching someone that shouldn't be yours but is. He is yours in every way but the one that truly matters.
A month later, he eventually leaves and when you tell Helen you've started seeing him, she's as sweet as she ever is. She understands, telling you all she's ever wanted was for you to be happy, and that only breaks you more. You don't understand.
You got what you'd secretly wanted, but at what price?
Now whenever you kiss him, you see her.
And whenever he holds you, you can see him holding her before.
And everything feels tainted in a way you can't escape from.
Because after all, you still have him and she doesn't.
joe. joseph? i don't even care. but oh my god. the scene where he says 'good girl'. the bed scene????????? i know it's wrong but he's so. i desperately need some dating him canons!! cause i feel like he's a mix of soft and aggressive. like soft dom vibes
yes but also his gestures & body language go insane. we're gonna pretend he's not mood-swinging for this one.
MASSIVE TEASE he loves holding eye contact & watching you get shy under his gaze
joe gets easily frustrated with the people around him so it's very much the dynamic of he hates everyone except you
plus he sometimes needs a distraction from those feelings or outlet to express them - you know what I mean & he does not care about propriety at all
that's the aggressive side. it's not really ever directed towards you. unless he's blowing off steam with you in his room.
i hate to say this but one proper kiss from him will ruin you for anyone else
very passionate, almost to the level of love bombing, but it goes on beyond the initial stages of a relationship with him
mostly bc he's just got that frustrated tension always running through him
Joe can be soft too!!! he can he sweet I promise
usually just when it's the two of you, he'll joke around & surprise you with sweet things
nothing expensive but appreciated nonetheless, like a bundle of flowers he picked out of someone's garden tied together with twine
i fully believe he would commit petty crimes for the sake of doing something nice for his girl
like stealing displayed jewelry in a shop while the clerk was distracted or pickpocketing rich people
clearly Joe enjoys being a little troublesome & the adrenaline rush that comes with it
his favorite thing to do is to catch you off guard
for instance, pulling you into a coat closet as you walk through the hallway or scooping you up out of nowhere to haul you to bed
