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mcrdvcks · 28 days ago

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i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 2003 - i can see us lost in the memory

chapter summary: After searching for answers about his past, Logan comes back to the mansion after finding nothing at Alkali Lake. When he comes back he sees you, the only thing he can remember.

word count: 6.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: i skipped x1 (mostly because i felt like i couldn't place reader into the story and have her actually make a change in it) so we're starting with x2! don't worry, next chapter is going to make you sick with tooth rotting fluff

(also thank you for 700 followers!! and happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate! <3)

warnings/tags: follows events of x2 (strays slightly), reader is a mutant with time manipulation powers, reader wears glasses, shy!reader, light violence

series masterlist - chapter 6 → chapter 8, chapter 8.5

Alkali Lake held nothing. No clues, no leads, nothing. And because of that he’s still drifting, unable to remember anything but you.

He’s not sure when the last time he saw you was, he can only remember that he’s had you 5 times and lost you 5 times.

But now… now he has nothing but fragments, barely more than dreams, and a dull ache he can’t ignore, even if he can no longer remember the details. He knows you were there, remembers the way your touch soothed him, the warmth of your voice—and each time he replays those memories, he feels something deeper, sharper, tugging at the places in him that will never mend.

---

Logan opened the doors to the mansion, Rogue walking towards him. “Logan!” She went up to hug him before quickly pulling back.

“You miss me, kid?”

“Not really.” She shook her head sarcastically.

“Hmm. How are you doing?”

“I’m okay. How are you?”

“Who’s this?” Logan gestured with his head behind Rogue.

Rogue turned around, “oh, this is Bobby. He’s my- ”

“I’m her boyfriend.” Bobby cut in, shaking Logan’s hand using his ice powers, “call me Ice Man.”

Logan pulled away with a slight scowl, “right. Boyfriend? So how do you guys…?”

Bobby and Rogue shared a look, “well, we’re still working on that.” He said.

“Look who’s come back. Just in time.” Ororo spoke, as she walked down the stairs.

“For what?” Logan questioned.

“We need another babysitter.”

“Babysitter?”

“Nice to see you again, Logan.” Ororo said kindly.

“Hi, Logan.” Jean spoke, announcing herself as she walked down the stairs.

Logan briefly looked her way, “Jean.”

“Uh, I should go and get the jet ready.” Ororo said quietly.

“Yeah, well, it was good to meet you.” Bobby grabbed Rogue’s hand, “come on, let’s go.”

“Bye, Logan. I’ll see- I’ll see you later!” Rogue called out.

Jean walked in front of Logan, “Storm and I are heading to Boston. We won’t be gone long. The professor wants us to track down a mutant who attacked the president.”

“So it was a mutant.” Logan responded.

“You’ll be here when we get back- unless you plan on running off again.”

Logan tilted his head slightly. “Oh, I could—” His words trailed off as he caught sight of you. The stack of papers in your hands wobbled as you came down the stairs, muttering under your breath. He watched you, the tilt of your head as you pushed your glasses back up, the way you carefully balanced the papers in your hands.

You. He knew you. He knew that face, that presence. It hit him like a punch to the gut, an undeniable recognition buried beneath layers of fractured memories. You were the only thing that came back to him clearly in all the chaos. The short-lived lives you had, and every time it ended up with you dead in his arms.

He blinked, processing, as if you’d vanish if he looked away. You glanced up, catching his stare, and you stopped mid-step, eyes widening a little.

“Oh, uh… hi,” you said, awkwardly adjusting your glasses.

“Hi,” he echoed, still staring, as if searching for something familiar in the way you moved.

You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, then tried a smile. “You’re… Logan, right?”

He swallowed, feeling something catch in his throat. “Yeah. Logan.”

Breaking the tension, Scott walked down the stairs, “find what you were looking for, Logan?”

Logan barely acknowledged Scott’s words, his gaze fixed on you. The room, the people around him, the mansion itself—they all blurred, faded, became nothing more than static in the background. He knew you. The only thing he remembered clearly, despite all the fog in his mind, was you.

The stack of papers shifted in your hands as you glanced between him and Scott, your unease clear. It was like you sensed something, too, even if you couldn’t put a finger on it.

“Uh, no, not exactly,” Logan finally replied, his voice gruff, his eyes still on you. “Thought I’d… found something. Guess not.”

Scott didn’t seem too interested in probing. “Well, welcome back. Make yourself at home.”

But Logan barely heard him. He watched as you attempted a shy smile, not quite meeting his eyes. “I… I should go.” You hesitated, lifting the papers as if they’d shield you. “It was nice meeting you, Logan.”

He nodded, his throat dry. “Same.”

You hurried past, your steps soft but quick, almost like you were escaping.

Scott raised an eyebrow at Logan, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Didn’t know you were one for the shy ones.”

Logan shot him a look that could’ve split wood, but Scott just shrugged and walked off, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts.

For a moment, Logan debated following you. He’d known you before; he was sure of it. And even if he couldn’t recall the exact details, there was no mistaking the pull he felt, the way his chest tightened just being in your presence. He couldn’t remember much, barely fragments, yet you were a constant. And every time, he’d lost you. Every damn time.

---

After double checking that everyone was out of their rooms, whether taken or already escaped, you made your way to the secret tunnel, hitting the paneled wall as it opened.

You saw Rogue, Bobby, John, and Logan running down the hall. “Go on,” you said, letting the kids go through before you did. You noticed no one behind you as the door slid down, closing.

“Logan!” Rogue called out.

Bobby and John had already started to run down the tunnel while you stayed by the wall, ear pressed against it trying to hear what was happening.

Rogue stayed by you, clearly worried about Logan. You opened the door quietly as Bobby and John came back. It was quiet in the hall, Logan was walking slowly toward the older man as your eyes briefly fluttered shut, pausing the intruders in time.

“Logan, come on. Let’s go.” Rogue yelled out.

“Logan,” you said gently, as he finally turned his head towards the group.

“Go. I’ll be fine.”

“But we won’t.” Rogue responded.

Logan contemplated for a few moments before walking towards you, “go. Keep going.” Logan entered the tunnel as the door closed behind him while you un-paused the men in the hall.

The five of you ran down the tunnel before climbing up a ladder to the garage. “Come on, get in. Get in!” Logan said.

You went to open the passenger door to the back when a large, warm hand landed on your waist, the grip warm and familiar even though you knew you'd never been this close to him before. Your breath hitched, and you glanced over your shoulder, only to meet his intense gaze as he gently nudged you toward the front seat. His hand lingered a second longer than it needed to, his touch almost hesitant, as if he was committing the feel of you to memory.

“Front seat, Y/N,” he murmured.

“R-Right. Thanks,” you stammered, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks as you slid into the passenger seat. He followed, taking his place behind the wheel, while Rogue, Bobby, and John piled into the back.

“This is Cyclops’s car.” Bobby said.

“Oh, yeah?” Logan unsheathed a singular claw, stabbing it into the ignition and turning on the car. The garage doors opened as the car sped out.

“What the hell was that back there?” John finally asked.

“Stryker.” Logan answered. “His name is Stryker.”

“Who is he?” Rogue questioned.

“I can’t remember.” Logan said quietly.

Rogue, after a few moments of silence, took off the dog tags around her wrist, passing them to Logan in the front, “here. This is yours.”

Even though you couldn’t see the kids in the back, you could tell they were uncomfortable with the silence. John leaned forward, “I don’t like uncomfortable silences.”

“What are you doing?” Rogue asked from beside him.

John turned on the radio as music played loudly from the car’s stereo’s, “bye, bye, bye…” Everyone groaned at the loud intrusion as John promptly turned it back off.

But, a small compartment opened, revealing a sleek metal device. “I don’t think that’s the CD player.” John said.

Logan grabbed it, twisting it in his hands. It blipped once, “whoa,” he muttered. Logan looked at John momentarily, “sit back.”

“Where we going?” John asked.

“Storm and Jean are in Boston. We’ll head that way.” Logan answered.

Bobby looked off to the side, “my parents live in Boston.”

“Good.” Logan said.

---

It was morning when you arrived at Bobby’s parents’ house. He unlocked the front door and stepped inside, “mom! Dad! Ronny! Is anybody home?” No one responded, the house was empty. Bobby looked at Rogue, “I’ll try and find you some clothes.” Bobby then looked over at John, who was continuously flicking his lighter open, “don’t burn anything.”

Logan was in the kitchen, trying to get the phone, or comm device he wasn’t sure, to work. He put it to his ear, “hello?” Static crackled over the device, “hello?” Logan asked again. “Come on, Jean. Where are you?”

You had just freshened up a bit when the door opened, Bobby’s family entering the house, looking at Logan in the kitchen with an open beer bottle.

“Hey, Ronny, next time you…” Bobby’s father started, but stopped when he saw Logan. “Who the hell are you?”

“Uh…” Logan pointed at the stairs as Bobby ran down them.

“Bobby…?”

“Honey, aren’t you supposed to be at school?” Bobby’s mother asked. Rogue quietly walked down the stairs.

“Bobby, who is this guy?”

“Uh… this is Professor Logan.” Bobby paused before speaking again, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

Soon, you all ended up in the living area, the kids and Bobby’s parents sitting down on the couch with you and Logan standing in the doorway.

“So, uh, when did you first know you were a… a…” Bobby’s mother trailed off.

“A mutant?” John spoke up, still flicking his lighter open and closed.

“Would you cut that out?” she said.

“You have to understand, we thought Bobby was going to a school for the gifted.” his father spoke.

“Bobby is gifted.” Rogue cut in.

“We know that. We just didn’t realize…”

His mother cut off her husband, “we still love you, Bobby. It’s just… this mutant problem is a little…”

“What mutant problem?” Logan interrupted, leaning against the other side of the doorway as you with his arms crossed.

“…complicated.” she finished.

Bobby’s father spoke again, “what exactly are you a professor of Mr. Logan?”

“Art.”

“Well, you should see what Bobby can do.” Rogue said.

Bobby leaned forward, gently touching his mother’s teacup with one finger as the tea turned to ice.

“Bobby…” his mother trailed off. She flipped the teacup on its side as the ice slid to the plate.

“I can do a lot more than that.”

His mother shakily put the plate and teacup on the glass table as the cat jumped up and started to lick the ice. Bobby’s brother Ronny left the room with a quiet anger.

“Ronny?” His mother called out as he went up the stairs. “This is all my fault.”

John spoke up, “actually, they discovered that males are the ones who carry the mutant gene and pass it on, so it’s his fault.”

A few moments later, the comm device started to beep. “Oh, God…” Logan took the device out of his pocket and started to walk to the sliding door, “it’s for me.”

“Bobby… have you tried… not being a mutant?” His mother asked.

Logan came back inside and locked the sliding door, “we have to go now. Now!”

“Why?” Rogue questioned. “Logan, what’s wrong?”

He walked to the front door, claws extended and you and the kids following to come face to face with police officers on the front lawn, point guns at you.

“Drop the knives and put your hands in the air.” An officer ordered from their right.

“What’s going on here?” Logan muttered.

“Ronny.” Bobby answered, coming to the realization.

“I said, drop the knives!” The officer ordered again.

Glass shattered from inside the house, “turn around! Up against the wall! Up against the wall!” An officer ordered Bobby’s parents, still in the living area.

“This is just a misunderstanding.” Logan said.

“Put the knives down!”

Logan turned to look at the officer, “I can’t. Look,” he raised his arm slowly as the officer fired a shot, straight into Logan’s forehead.

Rogue screamed and you gasped as Logan hit the patio floor.

“All right, the rest of you- on the ground now!” The same officer ordered.

You, Bobby, and Rogue slowly sank to the ground, but John stayed standing.

“Look, kid, I said on the ground!”

“We don’t want to hurt you, kid.” The officer on the other side said.

“You know all those dangerous mutants you hear about on the news?” John flicked open his lighter as you murmured his name, “I’m the worst one.” He blasted fire at the officer who shot Logan, sending him off the patio. He turned and did the same to the woman on the other side, then inside the house at the two officers.

John turned forward, blasting fire at the officers on the front lawn, the car exploding, before doing the same to another police car. A siren sounded down the street, coming to the house, as John blasted another stationary car by the front lawn, throwing the moving car off track. He blasted that car too.

Rogue, on the ground in front of you, took off her white glove and grabbed John’s ankle. The fire in his hands died off as Rogue stopped the fires surrounding the police cars and lawn.

The bullet popped out of Logan’s head as he woke up, the Blackbird slowly landing in the street. Logan stood up, cracking his neck. Bobby and the kids rushed off the stairs first, heading to the jet.

Logan instinctively put a hand on the small of your back, not pushing you or guiding you just… resting there. You took a quick glance up at him before reverting your gaze back to what was ahead of you.

John was the first one to walk up the ramp, and the first one to see Kurt turn in his chair. “Guten tag.” Kurt greeted.

The rest of you got onto the jet, buckling in, “who the hell is this?” Logan asked.

“Kurt Wagner. But in the Munich circus, I was known as the Incredible Nightcrawler.”

“As, save it. Storm?”

“We’re out of here.” The engines powered up as the ship jerked slightly while taking off.

---

“How far are we?” Logan asked, walking up behind Jean’s chair.

“We’re actually coming up on the mansion now.” Jean replied, as the console started to beep.

“I’ve got two signals approaching.” Ororo said, “coming in fast.”

“Unidentified aircraft, you are ordered to descend to 20,000 feet. Return with our escort to Hanscom Air Force Base. You have ten seconds to comply.”

“Wow, somebody’s angry.” Ororo commented.

Logan looked back at John, “I wonder why.”

“We are coming up alongside you to escort you to Hanscom Air Force Base. Lower your altitude now.” The two planes come up on both sides of the jet, “repeat-lower your altitude to 20,000 feet. This is your last warning.”

The planes started to fly behind, “they’re falling back.” Ororo spoke. Rapid beeping sounded out from the console. “They’re marking us.”

“What?” Logan asked.

“They’re going to fire! Hang on!” Ororo started to fly the jet in a defensive position as they buckled into their seats. “I got to shake them.”

The jet briefly flew upside down then righted itself, “please don’t do that again.” John said.

“I agree.” Logan remarked. “Don’t we have any weapons in this heap?”

The sky started to darken as dark clouds formed, quickly turning into tornadoes. The jet started to shake from the heavy winds as Ororo tried getting the two planes off their tails.

Once their radar was clear, Ororo stopped, the sky brightening back to its natural state.

“Everybody okay back there?” Jean questioned.

“No,” Logan answered simply.

Rapid beeping sounded out from the console once again, “oh, my God, there’s two of them,” Ororo said. Jean used her powers and took out one of the missiles, “there’s one more.” The remaining missile continued flying closer to them, “Jean?”

Jean gasped, “oh, God!” At the last second, Jean directed the missile slightly up, causing the back end of the jet to blow open.

Rogue, who wasn’t buckled in, flew out the back as Bobby yelled for her. Kurt briefly looked back before disappearing and then reappearing in the jet, right by the pilot’s seat next to Ororo and Jean as the jet nosedived.

The panels in the ship began to crackle as metal creaked and the back of the jet repaired itself. “Jean?” Ororo asked.

“It’s not me.” Jean answered, as the jet suddenly stopped, hovering over an older man and woman you didn’t recognize.

---

You had your head and arms buried deep into the jet's console, a strand of hair falling in front of your face as you tried to twist one more wire into place. The tech was scrambled from the missile hit, panels still flickering with bursts of static, and while it wasn’t exactly in your wheelhouse, you knew enough to give it a try. Besides, it kept your hands busy while the rest of the team talked to Erik around the fire and the kids set up tents.

After some time, you walked down the stairs of the jet, mostly for a small break from the incessant lighting and saw Logan smoking a cigar by the ramp. You almost turned around and walked back up, until he turned to look at you, more than halfway down the stairs.

You gulped and played with the tool in your hands as Logan looked at his cigar briefly, noticing the smoke was frozen in the air. He turned his gaze to the trees nearby also taking note that they were frozen as well; no wind blowing through their leaves.

“Ya always freeze time when you get nervous?” Logan tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you, trapped in your own nervous suspension of time. You gave a tight, embarrassed smile, the tool in your hands twisting around your fingers as you took a deep breath and forced yourself to let go of the freeze.

“No. Only sometimes,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat. The trees resumed their gentle sway, and the smoke from his cigar curled upward lazily again. Logan watched the subtle shift, something almost playful glinting in his gaze.

He took another drag of his cigar, eyes not leaving you. “So, what’s got you nervous?”

Your fingers fumbled with the tool. “It’s, um… I don’t usually come across people who…” You trailed off, looking down at your hands.

Truth was, he made you nervous. Why wouldn’t he? He was… a lot of things, and in the few days you have known him you couldn’t help but feel more reserved than usual.

Logan leaned back against the ramp, watching you with a calm expression, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Care to be more specific?” He seemed content to let you fumble, patient in a way that only made your pulse quicken more.

You shrugged, pretending to focus on the tool in your hands. “I don’t know, maybe it’s the… whole mysterious, intense thing you’ve got going. That, and the fact that I accidentally freeze time whenever you look at me like that.”

He raised an eyebrow, letting out a low chuckle. “Like what?”

“Like…” You trailed off, finally looking up at him. “Like you’re trying to figure something out, but I’m not sure I want to know what.”

“Maybe I am,” Logan said, taking a drag of his cigar. His eyes softened a bit, and you felt a warmth settle over you. He didn’t push, didn’t pry—just waited. After all, patience was one of the many things he’d perfected over the years.

You shifted on your feet, glancing down to where your fingers had turned the wrench over and over, antsy. “Maybe I just don’t know what to make of you,” you murmured, feeling the weight of his gaze again.

“Guess that makes two of us,” he replied, his voice low. There was something unspoken in his words, something you couldn’t quite name.

The silence stretched out, and then, because there was something about the way he looked at you that felt like an invitation, you spoke. “Why’d you come out here, anyway? I thought you were all about avoiding everyone else.”

Logan flicked some ash off the end of his cigar. “Maybe I was gettin’ tired of avoidin’ things.” He paused, looking out toward the treeline, then back at you. “Or maybe I just wanted to see if you’d freeze time again.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Not exactly something I can control.”

“Good to know,” Logan replied, smirking. He took another puff, the smoke curling up in wisps around him. “So, are you fixin’ that thing, or just givin’ it the ol’ college try?”

You looked back at the jet, the half-repaired panel flickering with static. “Oh, definitely just winging it.”

Logan chuckled, the sound rich and deep, and for a moment, the tension seemed to ease. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a ‘wing it’ type.”

You shrugged, biting back a smirk. “I’m full of surprises.”

The easy conversation brought a hint of a grin to his face, something warm and fleeting, and he tilted his head toward the jet. “C’mon, let’s see what else you can do, winging it.” He raised an eyebrow, as if challenging you.

You looked at him, then back at the jet, a bit of excitement tingling under your skin. “Alright, Logan. Let’s see what we can fix.”

---

“Stay with the kids.” Jean said. You opened your mouth to argue, you weren’t a child, yet it seemed like every mission you were treated like one. Never allowed on the field, never even brought in on a debriefing.

The rest of the group, other than Mystique who was already in the base, were outside the jet, making their way into Alkali Base. You were supposed to stay behind with Rogue, Bobby, and John.

“But, Jean—” you started, voice catching on the frustrated protest that lingered in your chest.

Jean turned, a hand on her hip and an exasperated look that was all too familiar. “We’ve talked about this, Y/N. You’re here to look after them.”

“Right,” you muttered, crossing your arms, your gaze falling on the others, who were half paying attention, half pretending not to notice. Rogue’s worried glance lingered on you; Bobby looked between you and the hallway where the rest of the team had disappeared.

Jean’s expression softened just slightly. “This isn’t a punishment, okay? The kids need someone they trust to keep them safe.”

You glanced at Logan, who gave you a slight nod, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “Fine,” you mumbled, “I’ll stay with them.”

Jean pressed a reassuring hand to your shoulder. “We’ll be back soon.” She turned to catch up with the others, her footsteps echoing as they faded into the depths of the base.

Logan lingered for a moment, gaze unwavering. He looked at you for a beat too long, and something tightened in his expression. He gave a faint nod before heading off.

As the rest of the team disappeared down the corridor, John grinned, clearly amused by your frustration. "Looks like you got a babysitting gig, huh?"

You shot him a withering look, but Rogue was quick to jump in. "It's not like that, John."

“Could be worse,” Bobby added, trying to lighten the mood, “at least we’re safe here.”

You leaned against the cold metal wall, fingers tapping the console out of habit. “Yeah,” you replied, though your voice held none of the certainty you tried to convey.

From the depths of the corridor, Logan’s scent still lingered faintly in the air. You felt the tug of something unexplainable—a pull toward him that you’d noticed ever since he first set foot in the mansion. It was like trying to remember something you knew you’d forgotten.

Your hand, almost of its own accord, clenched into a fist, feeling the temptation to slow time, to buy a few seconds to gather your thoughts and process what lingered between you and Logan. But with Rogue, Bobby, and John right there, you resisted, focusing on keeping things steady.

And, yet, as you listened to the faint sounds echoing down the hall, a deep sense of restlessness settled in your chest.

---

“She’s controlling the jet!” Storm said, as the jet started to lightly shake.

“You, get her, now!” Logan told Kurt.

Kurt briefly phased, “she’s not letting me.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Charles spoke. “This is the only way.”

Scott leaned down next to Charles seat, “Jean? Listen to me. Don’t do this.”

“Good-bye.”

The jet started to hover above the water as a bright light shone briefly from the water before disappearing as quickly as it came.

“She’s gone,” Ororo said quietly.

The vision broke your focus as you flew the jet, the emergency landing protocol activated as it landed harshly, Rogue and Bobby standing in the cockpit by your seat.

A whoosh made you turn to the side to see Kurt putting Charles down in a seat. Kids started to climb up the stairs into the ramp as Ororo came by your side, “I got this, Y/N,” she said gently.

You let out a few more heavy breaths before standing up from the pilot’s seat, letting Ororo take your place.

As Scott fiddled with some of the controls, Charles spoke up, “Scott, we’ve got to get to Washington. I fear this has gone beyond Alkali Lake.”

Logan finally climbed up the stairs, a young boy in his arms, “Bobby.”

“Hey, I got him,” Bobby replied, carefully taking the boy from Logan’s arms.

Logan watched for a moment as Bobby wrapped an arm around the kid, murmuring something reassuring to him. When the boy seemed to relax, Logan shifted his gaze to you, lingering just a beat too long, that same unreadable look in his eyes.

The jet was buzzing with energy as everyone settled in, but his eyes never left yours. You felt it, that weight, the unspoken thing hanging between you both ever since you met. The others didn’t seem to notice—Bobby was focused on the kid, Rogue was buckling in, and Ororo and Scott were adjusting settings on the console. But Logan, he was watching you, something intense simmering beneath his stoic expression.

You tried to brush it off, focusing on the quiet hum of the jet as it prepared for takeoff. But that pull was there, like something forgotten tugging at your memory, or maybe… not forgotten, exactly. Maybe something you’d never known.

Finally, unable to help yourself, you looked back at him. “What?” you asked softly, half a smile on your lips to cover the nervous energy prickling at the base of your spine.

Logan didn’t smile back. “Nothing,” he replied, voice rough. But his gaze softened, just barely, and there was a glimmer of something warm. “Just making sure you’re alright.”

His words were casual, but you caught the faintest edge of something… familiar. Like a memory you couldn’t quite touch. You felt your fingers twitch, the familiar itch to pull time in around you, but you held back.

“I’m fine,” you said, brushing your hair behind your ear as you tried to shake off the strange feeling. “Thanks for asking.”

Logan nodded, but his gaze didn’t waver. He watched you for a beat longer, almost as if he were searching for something. Whatever it was, he didn’t find it—or maybe he did but decided not to say. Instead, he moved forward to Ororo, where her and Scott were trying to power the engines.

“What’s wrong?” Logan questioned.

“Vertical thrusters are offline.” Scott answered.

“So fix ’em.”

“I’m trying.”

“Hey, has anyone seen John?” Rogue called out.

“Pyro?” Logan asked. “Where the hell is he?”

“He’s with Magneto.” Jean replied.

“…but I don’t know how long they’re going to last.”

“I’m trying to override, but it’s not responding.” Scott grunted, “come on!”

“Oh, no, we’ve lost the power.” Ororo said.

“It’s coming. Come on!”

“There’s power in the fuel cells. They’re just not connected.”

“Okay, I’ll try to reroute it this way.” Ororo continued, but your gaze was focused on Jean, who was looking at the ramp of the jet. “Scott, the engine control system is shot.”

“Which part?”

“All of it!”

“Can’t you override?”

“Yes. It’s going to take some time.”

“Jean,” you whispered under your breath, too scared to act, fearing what would happen if you intervened. Instead, you watched as she walked down the ramp of the jet, glancing at the group one last time.

Charles tilted his head slightly to the side, “Jean?”

“Wait, where’s Jean?” Logan asked.

“She’s outside.” Charles said.

Scott bolted up from his seat to the ramp, but it closed as he got there, separating Jean from the rest of them. The consoles lit up as the engines came back online.

“No! We’re not leaving! Lower the ramp! Storm, lower it!” Scott yelled.

“I can’t!” She replied.

The water finally washed over to them, but because of Jean and her telekinesis it went around her.

“She’s controlling the jet!” Storm said, as the jet started to lightly shake.

“You, get her, now!” Logan told Kurt.

Kurt briefly phased, “she’s not letting me.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Charles spoke. “This is the only way.”

Scott leaned down next to Charles seat, “Jean? Listen to me. Don’t do this.”

“Good-bye.”

The jet started to hover above the water as a bright light shone briefly-

“-power in the fuel cells. They’re just not connected.”

“Okay, I’ll try to reroute it this way.” Ororo continued, but your gaze was focused on Jean, who was looking at the ramp of the jet. “Scott, the engine control system is shot.”

“Which part?”

“All of it!”

“Can’t you override?”

“Yes. It’s going to take some time.”

As Jean walked toward the ramp, you reached out and grabbed her forearm, halting her determined steps. Her head turned, meeting your gaze, and for a moment, her eyes softened. There was a weariness, a resignation in her look that you couldn’t ignore.

“Jean,” you whispered, tightening your grip. “There has to be another way.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she looked away, staring into the distance. The ramp was only steps away, but she hadn’t pulled her arm free. “It’s the only way to save everyone,” she said, her voice barely audible, as if speaking louder would shatter whatever resolve she had left.

“I’m not gonna let you die,” you spoke quietly.

Jean tilted her head, looking at the cockpit one more time before back at you, “you rewound. Didn’t you?” She hadn’t tried to pull away, and you could feel the rapid beat of her pulse through your grip on her arm. She knew. Somehow, she’d pieced it together—how you’d rewound, maybe even more than once.

“Yes,” you replied softly, your voice barely audible over the hum of the jet, “but this time—”

“This time won’t be any different,” Jean cut in, a trace of regret in her tone. “Some things… you can’t just rewind.”

You tightened your grip, not willing to let go. “I don’t believe that. I don’t believe it has to end like this.”

Her gaze softened, but there was a sadness in her eyes that you couldn’t bear. “You have to let me go, Y/N. You can’t keep holding on to something that’s already gone.”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “We’re a team, Jean. You can power on the jet, and I can pause the water.”

She looked away, clearly weighing every word you said against her own grim resolve, then back at you with a look of resigned understanding. "You don’t understand, Y/N. This—" she gestured to the waters crashing around them, then down to her own chest, her hand resting over her heart—"what’s happening to me... it’s too much. It’s a flood I can’t hold back.”

You could feel her pulse, still wild beneath your hand, and the memory of her last words echoed in your mind. "You have to let me go, Y/N. You can’t keep holding on to something that’s already gone.”

But she wasn’t gone, not yet, and the desperation that rose inside you felt like a fight against fate itself. “Jean, I’ve seen things go wrong before.” The words slipped out, the ghost of a memory that you couldn’t quite catch. “But I can feel it this time… we don’t have to lose you. Just trust me.”

For a moment, Jean’s gaze softened, and her grip on her resolve wavered. “Y/N…” she started, and you caught a glimmer of something in her eyes—gratitude, or maybe even hope. Her hand rested lightly over yours, though you could feel her power humming beneath her skin. “Alright,” she whispered finally, her voice barely audible. “But if something goes wrong… if it’s too much…”

You cut her off, squeezing her hand tighter. “Then we find another way. But you don’t have to do this alone.”

With a quick nod from Jean, you focused your energy, feeling time ripple and bend beneath your skin. Jean closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she took in the extra moments you’d gifted her, enough to gather her power without tearing herself apart in the process.

Outside the jet, the water slowed, hovering just a few inches away from the plane, frozen in time. Everyone held their breath, the hum of the jet's engines amplified in the stillness. Scott turned back to the controls, guiding the jet forward through the suspended water. “It’s working,” he murmured, almost to himself. "We’re moving.”

In the cockpit, you felt your pulse race as you held the time bubble steady, feeling the strain build in your bones. This level of control was more intense than anything you’d managed before, but you pushed yourself to hold on, the determination to keep Jean and everyone safe steeling your resolve.

The jet jolted slightly as it broke through the edge of the water and rose higher, out of immediate danger. But the strain was starting to build, the sheer amount of energy it took to hold everything at bay beginning to wear on you. Your hand slipped, and you nearly stumbled, but before you could lose your focus entirely, a strong hand caught your arm.

Logan was at your side, his face mere inches from yours, concern laced in his voice. “You good?” he asked, his grip grounding you.

“Yeah… just give me a sec.” You took a breath, focusing on the feel of his hand, the warmth in his touch that felt familiar in a way you couldn’t explain. With that small, grounding connection, you found the strength to hold the time bubble for a few seconds more.

When the jet was finally clear, you released the grip on time, and the rush of water resumed its course beneath them. You staggered slightly, feeling a rush of exhaustion course through you, but Logan’s arm was still steady around you, even as you fell to the ground, your eyes fluttering shut.

Logan’s grip tightened as you slumped back, your breath shuddering as exhaustion swept over you. His hand was warm, rough fingers gently brushing against your cheek, bringing you back just enough to the moment. Your back was draped over his knees, your pulse still racing as you struggled to catch your breath. The world was a muted blur, but his voice broke through, steady and low, anchoring you.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, his thumb tracing a slow circle on your cheek. “You’re alright. I got you.”

It was only his words, and the softness in them, that made you blink back the haze of exhaustion. As your vision cleared, you saw his face just inches from yours, an intensity in his gaze that seemed to search for something… something deeper than he was saying.

“Logan,” you whispered, not sure why his name slipped out so easily or why it felt so familiar, as if you’d said it before, in another life or another time. But the look he gave you held a weight you couldn’t name, a history you couldn’t remember.

“You with me?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper, but beneath it, there was something else, something almost pleading. He waited as you blinked up at him, your pulse slowly settling, tethered by his touch. “Y/N?”

“Yeah…” You tried to push yourself up, but the strain of holding time around the jet had left your muscles aching, feeling drained in a way you’d never experienced before. Logan’s grip on your shoulder tightened, steadying you, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into him, feeling his warmth.

His face softened, a flicker of relief crossing his expression, though he didn’t let go. “You pulled us out of that mess,” he said, his voice low, and for a second, something raw flickered in his eyes. “What were you thinking? Freezing the water like that—it could’ve knocked you out cold.”

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t just watch Jean go.” You inhaled deeply, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced toward the cockpit, where Jean’s quiet breathing filled the jet with a fragile peace. “I couldn’t let her do it alone.”

Logan gave a slow nod, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. You felt the intensity of his gaze, as if he was seeing something beyond what you could understand. There was a warmth to it, one that made your heart stutter, something deep and unexplainably familiar. He paused, his voice quieter, almost hesitant. “You’ve always been this way… haven’t you?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, thrown by the hint of something personal, something he couldn’t quite put into words. He dropped his hand from your face, settling it on your shoulder, but you could still feel the warmth lingering where he’d touched you.

“Never mind.” He looked away, his expression unreadable. But his hand remained steady on your shoulder, grounding you as the jet finally stabilized, the engines humming to life. You could hear the others bustling around, but for this moment, it was just the two of you, a silent understanding hovering between you.

“Logan…?” you started, not sure what you wanted to say or why his presence felt so deeply familiar. He turned back, a question in his eyes, as if he were waiting for something. But the words wouldn’t come. How could you ask him about a feeling you didn’t understand? About a memory that didn’t exist?

Instead, you exhaled, letting the silence fill the space between you. “Thank you.”

He watched you, his gaze lingering on your face, as if there were a thousand things he wanted to say. But he only nodded, a soft look crossing his face, one that felt almost like longing.

“Anytime,” he murmured, his hand finally slipping away, leaving a chill in its place.

“Y/N, you good back there?” Ororo’s voice broke the spell, and you managed a nod, giving her a thumbs-up.

“Yeah. Just… catching my breath.” You gave her a small smile, forcing your muscles to relax, even as your heart was still pounding. Logan stood, his gaze lingering on you for a beat before he moved to check on the others. But before he left, he looked back at you, his eyes holding a silent promise, a feeling that maybe—just maybe—he was still there, still watching over you.

---

A storm crackled outside thanks to Ororo and everyone around the group was frozen in time courtesy of you.

“Good morning, Mr. President.” Charles said. The President looked over to the side where Kurt was crouched on a small table. He began to stand up slowly, “please, don’t be alarmed. We’re not going to harm anyone.”

“Who are you people?”

“We’re mutants. My name is Charles Xavier. Please, sit down.”

“I’d rather stand.”

“Rogue.” Charles briefly glanced over at her, as she placed a large file onto the President’s desk. “These files were taken from the private offices of William Stryker.”

The President started to flip through the file, “how did you get this?”

“Well, let’s just say I know a little girl who can walk through walls.” Charles said, as the President looked over at Kurt who let out a quiet snicker. He finally sat back down.

“I’ve never seen this information.”

“I know.”

“Then you also know I don’t respond well to threats.”

“Mr. President, this is not a threat, this is an opportunity. There are forces in this world, both mutant and human alike, who believe that a war is coming. You’ll see from those files that some have already tried to start one. And there have been casualties. Losses on both sides. Mr. President, what you are about to tell the world is true. This is a moment. A moment to repeat the mistakes of the past, or to work together for a better future. We’re here to stay, Mr. President. The next move is yours.”

“We’ll be watching,” Logan said.

logan is around 171 years old (but at this point in the story, he doesn't really know how old he is so it's kinda irrelevant now) and reader is around 26 years old

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fic #i love you in every time

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smartkookiee · 3 months ago

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How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || Ch.1 — jjk.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀° ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+ ❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, flirting, drinking, nothing crazy happens in this chapter tbh, idiots, have fun (I’m so excited to see what everyone says, thank you to everyone for all the love on the teaser post!) ❥word-count: 9.4k ❥Series Masterlist ❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°

Day 0

“Y/N, can I see you in my office?” Yoongi’s voice cut through the ambient buzz of the office as he appeared at your cubicle. You blinked up at him, his request causing a ripple of curiosity among your surrounding coworkers, though no one dared to show it openly.

You hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing your mind. Was I in trouble? Did he hate my last research project? Your mind raced through the possibilities. Yoongi had praised your work just last week, but what if he’d changed his mind? The thought of him taking back his compliments made your stomach twist. With a sigh, you saved your work and rose to follow him. The walk to his office felt unnervingly like being summoned to the principal’s office in high school.

Though your colleagues barely glanced in your direction, the nerves still had your palms sweating. You tried to wipe them discreetly on your pants as you stepped inside his office.

Yoongi moved behind his desk with casual ease, sinking into his chair as though he hadn’t just rattled your nerves with his sudden appearance. You stood awkwardly for a moment until he waved you toward the chair in front of his desk.

“You can relax, Y/N. You’re not in trouble,” he said, his tone gentle but amused. It was clear he could feel the tension radiating off you.

“I know, I know. I’m just a worrywart. You know that,” you laughed softly, though it came out more anxious than you’d intended. “So… why did you want to see me?”

Yoongi leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the desk as he watched you. “I’ve have an assignment for you. Something better than your usual research work.”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued as he began rifling through the disorganized pile of files and papers littering his desk. You’d been at Composure for a while, mostly doing background research for other writers’ articles. But you’d been hoping for an opportunity to step out of the shadows, to prove yourself as more than just a behind-the-scenes contributor. Maybe this is it?

When Yoongi finally found what he was looking for, he pulled out an old magazine and dropped it in front of you with a soft thud. You glanced down at the cover, your eyes widening as you saw the issue was from 2003.

“How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days,” Yoongi said, leaning back in his chair with a knowing glint in his eyes.

You picked up the magazine and began flipping through it, skimming the pages until you found the article. A sense of familiarity washed over you—this was one of those interesting pieces people still whispered about around the office. “I’m confused.”

“This piece was a massive hit when it came out,” he explained, lacing his fingers together as he leaned back. “Lana, one of the higher-ups, was the editor at the time this particular piece came out. She brought it up recently, said she thinks it’s time for something like this to make a comeback.”

“You want me to do this?” you asked, still reeling from the audacity of the concept. You skimmed through the details, noting the original author, Andy. She had gone to extreme lengths to sabotage a relationship for the sake of the article. You couldn’t help but cringe at some of the tactics she’d employed.

“Not exactly,” Yoongi replied with a small chuckle. “The feedback back then was that the whole experiment felt a bit too unrealistic. Readers loved it and it was a funny read, but many thought they don’t do things this intense. Lana’s idea was to take the same concept, but… stretch it out.”

“Stretch it out?” you echoed, still trying to wrap your head around the idea.

“Yeah. Ten days is too quick for something like this. We want to make it feel more genuine. Instead of a mad dash to drive the guy away, we want to see what happens over a longer period. A month, maybe two. Let the tension build naturally.”

You leaned back in your chair, letting the idea swirl around in your head. It was ambitious, maybe even a bit reckless, but there was no denying it would be a challenge.. “So… you want me to date someone and—what? Subtly sabotage it over time?”

“Exactly. Actually date but do all the classic early relationship mistakes,” Yoongi explained, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the concept. “It’s an experiment in human behavior, relationships, and how much people are willing to overlook.”

“So like talking about something personal way too fast, or inviting yourself into their life way too quickly and then write about it?” you prattled on a bit, it was picking at the ideas in your brain in the right way.

Yoongi smiled, clearly pleased with your interest. “I brought this to you because you have more than proven yourself here. You’ve been doing excellent research, and I want to see how you handle something of this scale. Especially because this would be a feature piece.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the compliment, but there was still a question gnawing at you. “I’m glad you are trusting me with something like this, especially with such a high-profile piece. But… I have to ask, sir—why do you think I’m the right person for this?”

Yoongi leaned forward slightly, his expression more thoughtful. “Because I want to challenge you. I like your research and I like how you write, you understand the people who read our columns on a deeper level. I think you have more in you. I want to see if you can handle something outside of your comfort zone.” His voice softened, but the weight of his words wasn’t lost on you. “And after something like this, I’d be more than happy to move you on to bigger and better pieces.”

The subtle hint of a promotion sent a jolt of excitement through you. “Really?”

“Really,” Yoongi confirmed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

It was all you could do to keep the excitement from bubbling over. An actual writing assignment, something that could elevate your standing in the magazine, was exactly what you had been waiting for.

“I don’t even know what to say other than thank you.”

You fidget with the magazine in your hands, resisting the urge to curl the edges. Your mind raced, trying to think of what a realistic timeline for the piece could look like—something ambitious, but doable.

“How about… How to Lose a Guy in Thirty Days? A longer timeline, more idealistic. A month in is usually when new relationships start to fall apart. It’s after the initial getting-to-know-someone phase,” you suggest, throwing the idea out there, hoping Yoongi would take the bait.

“Thirty days, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “You sure you’re up for it?”

“Yes, sir.” You nod, your confidence building as you think about the possibilities.

“Good,” Yoongi replies, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look. “Let’s start on Monday, after we get through this print run. That gives you a few days to find the poor guy.”

“Right. Thank you, Mr. Min.” You stand up, your heart racing as you try to play it cool. But as soon as you exit his office, you can barely contain your excitement.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you mutter under your breath as you rush to your desk. Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you start jotting down notes, pulling out sticky notes and scribbling ideas, trying to organize your thoughts.

Ronnie, sitting in the neighboring cubicle, leans back to peer around the divider, noticing your frenzied state. She rolls her chair into your space, sliding up next to you with a curious look.

“What’s got you in such a hurry?” she asks, raising an eyebrow as she watches you type furiously. A laugh escapes her when she sees the pen stuck in your mouth and the growing pile of sticky notes attached to the old magazine.

“I gob a columb,” you mumble through the pen, barely pausing your typing.

Ronnie plucks the pen from your mouth. “Try that again.”

“I’m writing my first column.” You repeat, finally turning to face her, your excitement breaking through.

“No way!” Ronnie stands, her voice a little too loud, drawing a few glances from nearby desks. She sits back down and grabs your shoulders. “That’s so awesome! Your first column! What’s it going to be about?”

You hand her the magazine, pointing to the title. “This.”

“How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days?” She raises her eyebrows in surprise, flipping through the article. “You’re seriously going to do this?”

“Well, not exactly the same,” you say with a grin, watching as she reads through the outlandish tactics in the original piece. “Just similar.”

Ronnie’s eyes widen as she reaches some of the more extreme parts of the article. “Okay, this is crazy, all the things this girl did to this guy. Oh my god.” She rocked in disbelief, continuing the read through. “Awe, ends bittersweet though.”

“It’s going to be How to Lose A Guy in Thirty Days this time.”

“A month?” She laughs and shakes her head, you give her a confused look.

“What? I can do this!” You bump her shoulder.

“Do what?” Namjoon strolls into your cubical looking between the both of you.

“Kid got her first column.” Ronnie sings she has a proud grin on her face. You spin around to look at Namjoon.

His face lights up at the news, “That’s so awesome! Congrats!” He rubs your hair messing it up, you bat his hands away smoothing out your hair.

“Thanks Joon.”

“What’s it on?” Namjoon leans against your desk along side Ronnie.

Ronnie hands him the magazine flipped open to the article. He takes it and examines it for a moment, he reads along and his eyes widen at times. You continue scribbling down some thoughts while he does this. Namjoon was a silent reader but would always share his full thoughts when he was done.

“Woah, this is wild.” Namjoon flips back to the beginning of the article, like he had to read it over again.

“I know the original one is a little insane but we are doing it differently this time.” You explain, Namjoon had concern written all over his face reading through the article again.

“Quote, ‘after five days I decided to go ahead and take things to the next level between us. I completely redecorate his apartment with pink attire and stuffed animals everywhere.” Namjoon reads the section out loud. “She only knew him for five days?”

You nod, “I don’t know how she was so brave to do all of that. Luckily Yoongi said I don’t have to be as extreme as this. Just more casually clingy and needy, do small things that most people think are normal but seem to send guys running before anything serious can begin.”

“Yeah, I definitely hope you don’t end up ‘photoshopping your baby pictures together.’” Ronnie adds with a grin.

You laugh, shaking your head. “God, no. I’d sooner die of embarrassment. I don’t have the energy for that level of crazy.”

Namjoon leans back in his chair, one eyebrow raised in slight concern. “So, what is the plan then? You’ve got something in mind, right?”

You sigh dramatically. “Not sure yet. I’ve got until Monday to find a guy and come up with some sort of idea of how I want to do this.”

“Oh, can we help?” Ronnie’s eyes light up as she bounces in her chair, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Help find the guy?”

“Obviously, and with the torture,” she adds, looking way too enthusiastic.

“I’m not torturing him,” you chuckle, “just… irritating him a little. You know, for research purposes.”

“Uh-huh.” Namjoon’s teasing grin softens as he looks at you, a hint of doubt creeping in. “But are you really sure you can do this, like… casually?”

You blink at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, come on,” Namjoon says with a snort, gesturing vaguely at you. “You wear your heart in a pink, sparkly basket for everyone to see. Are you sure you won’t fall for the poor guy instead?”

“I don’t do that! And I will not!” You protest, but Namjoon and Ronnie exchange a look that screams they definitely think you do.

“I’ve never seen you not get your hopes up after a date or two,” Ronnie says, shrugging sympathetically.

“Well, this time will be different,” you say, folding your arms defiantly. “It’s just business. I have to get the guy to break up with me anyway.”

They weren’t wrong, though, and you know it. You’ve always been one of those people who swoon at love songs and daydream about movie-perfect endings. You were the exact type of person this article was written for in the first place. You did get attached too quickly and were getting hurt too often. But this? This was just an assignment. A game. You wouldn’t get hurt if you knew it had to end from the start.

“You’ll see.” You add with more confidence, determined to prove them wrong.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Ronnie teases, rolling her chair back toward her desk. It was well past time for her to get to her own work.

Namjoon shakes his head with a chuckle. “Good luck to this guy, I guess,” he mutters, though there’s warmth in his voice. He’s seen you get your hopes up too many times to believe you could really keep things casual.

But this time, you were determined. No expectations. No daydreaming. It was all just work.

Across town, though, someone else was perfectly content with his easygoing, no-strings-attached lifestyle. Jungkook, waking up in someone else’s bed was just another morning for him. He opened his eyes but was blinded by the morning light. He rolled over and looked around, he had no idea where he was. Memories of last night vaguely coming back to the front of his mind.

He looks over to see a sleeping girl in the same bed. He stands from the bed and manages to find his phone. Seeing the time.

“Shit.” He rushes to find his scattered items and puts his clothes back on. Tip toeing his way around the room and manages to get out the front door without a fuss.

Getting out of the building, Jungkook blinked as the morning sun hit him square in the face. He rubbed his eyes, still groggy from a less-than-restful sleep. Scanning the unfamiliar streets, he had no idea what neighborhood he was in, but that was par for the course these days. He pulled out his phone and called for an Uber, slipping his sunglasses on as he waited.

Another late night, another random bed. This wasn’t exactly new territory, but he couldn’t help feeling off. Normally, Thursdays were a quiet night in, but when Jimin and Taehyung wanted to go out, Jungkook wasn’t about to turn them down. And, as always, the night had ended the way it usually did for him—blurry and chaotic.

By the time Jungkook made it to the office, it was later than he would normally prefer to arrive. Slipping through the doors, he did his best to avoid attention although Hoseok’s keen eyes were already tracking him. Jungkook tried to get settled quietly, but it was pointless. Hoseok’s desk, conveniently right next to his, made stealth impossible.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Hoseok sang, swiveling in his chair to grin at Jungkook. He tapped a few keys on his keyboard, then gave Jungkook an exaggerated once-over. “Did you lose a bet, or is that last night’s shirt?”

Jungkook smirked as he slid into his seat. “Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but in yesterday’s clothes. What’d you do? Roll straight from the bar to your desk?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow, clicking away on his mouse as he pulled up their latest coding project.

“Pretty much,” Jungkook admitted, booting up his own computer. “I’ll head home at lunch and change. No one cares what I wear to debug.”

Hoseok shook his head with a laugh. “You’re gonna blind the clients with your wrinkled t-shirts one of these days.”

“Fair enough,” Jungkook chuckled, typing in his password. “But I’m still better at the code reviews, so they can’t complain too much.”

Hoseok conceded with a nod, leaning back in his chair. “Rough night?”

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck. “You could say that. Taehyung and Jimin were relentless. Didn’t stop until the bar kicked us out.”

“Ah, classic,” Hoseok said with a grin. “They never know when to quit.”

Jungkook smirked, though he felt the exhaustion settling in his bones. “They’ve got energy for days, man. But, hey, what about tonight? You in?”

Hoseok hesitated, glancing at the lines of code on his screen before looking back at Jungkook. “Again? You don’t look like you’re dying to go out tonight.”

Jungkook chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I mean, I’m wrecked, but you know I’m down. Someone’s gotta keep Taehyung from getting us banned from another bar.”

Hoseok shook his head, clearly amused. “I dunno, man. I might actually take it easy tonight. Jimin’s been texting like he’s planning another big one, and I don’t know if I’ve got the energy to babysit.”

“You? Too tired to party?” Jungkook teased, raising an eyebrow. “Weren’t you just complaining last week that we only go out when you’re drowning in deadlines?”

“I didn’t say I’m backing out,” Hoseok defended, though his reluctance was obvious. “I’m just... thinking about it.”

“Thinking about it, my ass. You’ll be there. I’ll text Jimin, tell him to go easy on the plans.” Jungkook turned back to his monitor, his fingers flying over the keys as he opened the project files for their current assignment.

Hoseok chuckled. “Yeah, alright. But if I show up and Taehyung’s dancing on tables again, I’m leaving early.”

“Deal,” Jungkook said with a grin.

Then Hoseok’s smirk deepened, and he shot a glance at Jungkook. “By the way, has she called you yet?”

Jungkook frowned, glancing sideways. “Who?”

“Channel. She’s been texting me. Again.” Hoseok’s grin turned into a mock look of annoyance. “Seriously, bro, how is she still hitting me up to ask about you? You need to fix that.”

Jungkook groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I made it clear we’re done.”

“Well, apparently she didn’t get the memo. She asked me yesterday if you were ‘okay,’ like I’m your personal messenger or something.”

Jungkook sighed, his fingers stilling on his keyboard. “I haven’t heard from her in weeks. She’s probably fishing for info, trying to get back in touch. She wanted something serious, and I was always upfront about keeping it casual.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow. “And she didn’t take that well?”

“She acted like she understood, but... yeah, not really. I broke it off before things got messy.” Jungkook sighed. “Now she’s bugging you instead.”

“Lucky me,” Hoseok muttered. “She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. But seriously, dude, she’s asking me if you’re, like, in a dark place or something. I think she’s hoping for a window to swoop back in.”

Jungkook groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Tell her I’ve joined a monastery.”

Hoseok laughed. “Sure, I’ll let her know you’ve taken a vow of silence and reflection.”

The rest of the morning flew by in a blur of coding and testing modules. By the time lunch rolled around, Jungkook had managed to convince Jimin to keep the plans for the night low-key—just a few drinks at a bar they liked. Hoseok seemed more on board with the promise of a relaxed evening, and Jungkook was glad. As much as he loved the chaos, even he was feeling the need for something calmer.

When they arrived at the bar that evening, it was more crowded than they’d expected. The hum of conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses filled the air, and the warmth of bodies packed in tight hit them as they wove their way through the crowd.

“So much for a quiet night,” Hoseok muttered, dodging a couple who were clearly several drinks in.

Jungkook grinned, nudging him. “Come on, it’s Friday. What did you expect?”

“Less people and more chairs,” Hoseok replied, though the grin on his face said he wasn’t too upset about it.

Jungkook laughed, scanning the bar for a spot to settle in. Despite his earlier exhaustion, he could feel the pull of another night out with his friends, the familiar buzz of energy creeping in. There was something about the chaos of it all that he couldn’t resist.

“Over here!” Jimin’s voice cut through the noise, his arm waving above the sea of people as he flagged them down. He and Taehyung had already secured a table in the corner.

Jungkook and Hoseok exchanged a glance before making their way over, dodging elbows and weaving past groups of friends clustered around the bar. As they reached the table and took their seats, Hoseok let out a deep sigh.

“Jesus, there are so many people here tonight,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I should have stayed home.”

Jimin smirked, leaning back in his chair with his drink in hand. “Aww, come on. It’s been forever since we’ve been out together.”

Jungkook chuckled, patting Hoseok on the shoulder. “It was definitely a struggle convincing him to come tonight.”

Hoseok held up his hands in surrender, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Hey, I was promised a chill night with some drinks. That’s my kind of Friday night.”

Before anyone could say more, Taehyung appeared at the table, balancing a tray of drinks with ease. “Here you go, gentlemen,” he said, passing them around with a flourish.

A round of thank-yous followed as each of the guys took their drinks. Jungkook took a long sip, letting the cool, bitter taste of his beer settle on his tongue as he leaned back in his chair, finally starting to relax.

“So,” Taehyung said after a moment, turning to Jungkook with a curious smile, “where did you disappear last night, man?”

Jungkook barely had time to respond before Jimin interjected, his tone teasing. “Where do you think he ran off to?” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows in fake suspicion.

The grin on his face made it clear he was referring to Jungkook’s extracurricular activities.

Taehyung snickered, shaking his head. “Oh, I see. Anything to tell? Did you find the love of your life?” His voice was full of amusement as he took another sip of his drink.

Hoseok snorted, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, right.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes playfully, tipping his head in Hoseok’s direction. “Hey, you never know.”

“Sure,” Hoseok said with a laugh, bumping Jungkook’s shoulder. “I’m sure she felt some kind of deep connection.”

Jimin waved a hand in Hoseok’s direction, dismissing him with a grin. “Leave him alone.”

But Hoseok wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. He shrugged, glancing around the table. “I mean, as long as I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him be serious with someone.”

Jungkook felt the familiar twist in his gut at the comment but didn’t let it show. It wasn’t that he didn’t want something serious—it just hadn’t happened in years. He took another sip of his beer, trying to brush off the remark. He had become somewhat comfortable in his solace and easy hook ups. Last thing he had to something serious was what he had with Channel, and that wasn’t even hardly serious.

Broke it off because she changed her mind about what she was wanting from him, Jungkook just really didn’t see a future with her and had always made his feelings about their relationship clear. He really came off looking like a dick but he didn’t want to drag her along. He didn’t want to drag anyone along.

“I can be serious when I want to be.” Jungkook took another sip of his beer.

“Yeah for like a day.” Taehyung teases.

“Not even, more like an afternoon.” Jimin jumps on him with a laugh.

“Try thirty minutes!” Hoseok adds on to the end before Jungkook waves them all of.

“Thirty minutes?” he raised an eyebrow, “Give me more credit than that.”

“Fine, thirty-one.” Taehyung added on with another laugh.

“Whatever,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Make your jokes but I don’t see any of you pulling in any serious relationships these days.” Jungkook points the top of his bottle around the group.

“Hey, I have a date next week I’ll have you know!” Hoseok protests.

“This isn’t about us though, this is about you.” Jimin sits back in his chair.

“What about me?”

“You’re not a relationship guy.” Taehyung sipped his beer.

“I’m comfortable by myself.” Jungkook crossed his arms.

“Nothing wrong with it, I just doubt you could ever be serious with someone.” Jimin shrugs.

“I’d be a better boyfriend than you.” Jungkook kicks Jimin's leg under the table.

“Yeah maybe when you’re fifty and decide it’s time to settle down.” Taehyung gives Jungkook a smirk.

“No way, I bet I could be a better boyfriend than all three of you.” Jungkook was getting too serious and Jimin and Taehyug smelt a challenge in the air.

“Wanna bet on it?” Jimin cocks his head to the side. It wasn’t unlike the three of them to make bets and they were always stupid.

“Aren’t we a little too old for bets?” Hoseok looks between the guys but he could already tell once Jimin raised the question, Jungkook was already locked into the idea.

“What are you thinking?” Jungkook leans his elbows on the table.

“I will bet a hundred dollars, that you couldn’t keep a girlfriend for more than two weeks.” Jimin states and Jungkook almost feels insulted.

“Come on, I can do better than that.” Jungkook goats Jimin, Jimin looks at Taehyung.

“I’ll buy in. 200 bucks.” Tahyung jumps on it.

“You guys are morons.” Hoseok shakes his head, Jungkook was up for the challenge but two weeks was insulting.

“No, I can keep a partner around for way longer than two weeks. Come on.”

“Okay, how about a month. We’ll make it 300 bucks if you can stay with the same girl for one month.” Jimin jumps on it, between him and Taehyung they would only be out one fifty each.

“But we get to pick who it is.” Taehyung quickly tacts on that little stipulation.

“What? No fair.” Jungkook pouts.

“Totally fair. Hobi weigh in on this.” Jimin nods his head to Hoseok who was hoping to stay invisible but it seems he has been brought on as the referee.

“I guess it makes sense, if you pick the girl it makes it too easy for you to win.” Hoseok logics it out but this definitely wasn’t starting to feel fair.

“Ugh fine.” Jungkook groaned, Jimin had extended his hand for a shake, Jungkook took it and they shook on the deal.

“Again, idiots.” Hoseok knew this was probably going to crash and burn and Jungkook would be out three hundred bucks. Jungkook was feeling very confident though and perhaps a little too competitive. He felt sure he could sucker these two out of three hundred bucks. As well as get to hang out with a pretty girl for a while. Putting on all of his best charm.

“So when do we start?” Jungkook looks between them.

“How about right now?” Jimin taps his glass.

While that played out, across the same bar, you were sitting at a booth with your friends.

Catching Jin up on your new promotion at work and your upcoming column to be. The bar was buzzing with life, the noise blending into a background hum as you spoke, but you could feel the excitement rising between you all.

“No way,” Jin’s face lit up as he scanned the photos of the old magazine article on your phone. You had snapped a few pictures to give him the full story, and now he was reading it with wide eyes, barely containing his amusement.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Ronnie took a long sip of her cocktail, her expression still skeptical. She shook her head as if she still couldn’t wrap her mind around what you were planning. “I mean, I seriously can’t believe you’re going to go through with this.”

“Look,” you began defensively, though a smile tugged at your lips, “I know it’s a little out there, but Yoongi really thinks I can do this. He has his full faith in me.”

It was true. Despite the fact that this assignment would push you far outside of your comfort zone, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement and determination. It wasn’t going to be easy, but you were confident you could handle it.

Jin, still holding your phone, read aloud with a dramatic flair: “A friend of mine made a good point that I shouldn’t allow him to have a boys’ night, so I decided to get a key from his landlord to interrupt their game night!” He glanced up with an incredulous look. “She really got a key from his landlord? That’s insane!”

You snatched your phone back, eyes wide. “Okay, I’m not doing that!” you exclaimed, shaking your head. “I’m just going to be clingy, needy. I’m not breaking into anyone’s house!”

“Good for her, honestly,” Namjoon chimed in, cracking open a peanut from the bowl in front of him. “The guy she picked probably deserved it.”

Ronnie nudged him with her elbow. “Didn’t you read the end? She ended up falling in love with him! Realized she was wrong and that he didn’t deserve all that treatment.” Ronnie leaned back in her chair, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Classic.”

“Of course, she did,” Jin chuckled, taking another sip of his beer. His eyes flicked back to you, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “That’s totally going to be you.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I will not.”

“Please,” Jin said, laughing. “You’re such a gooey romantic. You fall in love so easily.”

Namjoon and Ronnie exchanged knowing glances, both trying—and failing—not to laugh. They knew better than anyone how quickly you could get swept up in a whirlwind of emotions. It wasn’t that you were naive, just hopelessly, undeniably romantic. And they were somewhat concerned about how this whole assignment might play out.

“Look, this is a professional column,” you said, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s not like I’m actually looking for anything serious. I just have to scare him off. That’s it.”

“Either that or he will be on bended knee by the end of it.” Namjoon teased.

“Very funny. That’s why I have you guys here though, help me pick someone.” You really did want some help on this part. If you got help picking the guy then maybe you could pick someone who it would be easy to let go of.

“How so?” Ronnie tilted her head at your request.

“Well knowing my luck I would accidentally pick a guy who is totally perfect for me and I really won’t be able to go through with it. If you guys pick then you could objectively find someone who is someone I would never go for.” You clap your hands together, hoping your explanation is enough.

“Oh I’m so in.” Jin rests his chin on his hands. “Plus this bar is packed, we could easily find someone tonight.”

“Well we won’t find him sitting here. Let’s go fish.” Ronnie stands from her seat offering a hand to you, Jin following close behind. The three of you taking a turn about the bar, making observations at some of the different groups that were here.

“Let’s see.” Ronnie taps her lips with her pointer finger and glances about the room as the three of you search from person to person. “Okay, guy at the bar. Sweater, cheesy and obviously cheap silver necklace.”

You and Jin both take a glance over to him, he seemed to be here alone. Looked nice enough, maybe a good choice. He seemed like a jock type, looked like he was trying with his looks a little too hard. You were considering it before Jin shook his head.

“Not him, hes rubbed his ring finger like four times.” Jin points, just at that moment the guy does it again, “He’s either married or just got divorced and looking for another wife. Next!”

“Touche.” You agree and the three of you glance around again. “Okay, how about that guy?”

You point to a small group of guys who seemed way deep into a game of pool. One of the guys sinks a cool shot into one of the pockets and he and another guy cheer too loudly, you were far away and you could still hear them. He looked like he was about to break his pool stick from excitement.

“Nevermind. Way too intense.” It would have been a good choice but you would probably end up dumping him before you could get any work done.

The three of you run through a few more guys as you walk around, all three of you seemed to find some reason to veto them again and again. Some were too close to your type and some were just too annoying for you to be able to stand them long enough to keep this ruse up.

“God slim pickings tonight.” You were getting exhausted. You were considering heading back to Namjoon at the table and coneiding for the night. Maybe sleep it off and try again at another bar tomorrow.

“We can do this.” Ronnie cheers trying to keep your spirits high. “This guy is here, I just know it.” She had had more to drink at this point, she's a pretty energetic drunk.

“I agree. No throwing in the towel yet.” Jin scans the room again, you guys had moved to many different spots and more people had moved in and out of the bar at this point.

Jin looked around from guy to guy. Jin frequented this bar often so he had a general sense of the people who were new and the people who frequented here often. He wasn’t sure himself who would work for this, they had to be the perfect combination of nice enough to stick it out but still a playboy or asshole enough that you wouldn’t fall for them. Someone who maybe deserved a little bit of torture. Someone who needed a little due karma.

He waited for a moment, maybe all three of you just needed to let the guy reveal himself. Before Jin thought it was hopeless was just when he got exactly what he asked for.

Jungkook was making his way over to the bar.

“Bingo.” Jin whispered. Jungkook had left the table with his friends, the booth was tucked away in the corner so it was no wonder he didn't notice them before. “That’s the guy.”

“Who?” You ask and then Jin points his finger, tracking Jungkook to the end of the bar. You watched him order from the bartender and then casually wait for a moment.

“He’s perfect.” Jin was confident.

“He’s cute?” Ronnie nods, Jin rolling his eyes at her. “What am I wrong?”

He was very cute you thought, he sported this leather jacket and dark jean look. Large boots, it wasn’t your usually clean cut look that you enjoyed but you understood the appeal of it.

“Okay why him?” You ask looking at Jin.

“I’ve seen him here a lot. Always comes with a group of friends, but he never leaves alone. Never the same girl twice. I thought he stopped coming around, but nope. Looks like he’s still at it. His name’s something like Jungkook.” Jin places both hands on your shoulders, looking you dead in the eye. “Total Casanova. Leaves behind a trail of broken hearts.”

Ronnie raises an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that make it harder to keep him around for thirty days?”

“Not necessarily,” you say, the wheels turning in your head. “I just need him to dump me within thirty days. He doesn’t have to stick around for all thirty.”

“Longest I saw him entertain a girl for was maybe two weeks? That’s exactly what you need.” Jin shakes your shoulders and you laugh at the movement, almost dizzy after your two drinks.

A playboy type who can’t commit for more than two weeks. It was exactly what you needed, and lucky for you you wouldn’t need to feel bad about maybe annoying him too much. You needed him to dump you no matter what. Could be fun after all, messing with a guy who is a fuckboy that Jin has seen around could be almost a perfect karma for this guy.

“Perfect.” You say with a sly smile as you watch him walk back to his group balancing a few drinks in his arms along the way.

Jungkook managed to set the drinks down gently, “Here you go boys.”

He passed the drinks outs but Jimin and Taehyung were deliberating about something. Jungkook looked between them and looked to Hobi for confirmation. Hoseok wasn’t totally sure what their hushed conversation was about.

“I don’t know, seems like he could make that work too well.” Jungkook could barely make out the sentence coming from Tae.

“No it has to be someone like that.” Jimin adds on and then they both seem to come to some silent agreement. Both sitting up straight in their spots.

“What are you two whispering about?” Jungkook breaks the silence and they both have big grins on their faces, Taehyung is looking over the back of the booth to the bar.

“Okay we have made a decision.” Jimin puts on an announcer voice, holding his glass like a microphone.

“You picked someone? Already?” Jungkook was surprised they had come to an agreement on this so quickly.

Taehyung looks back to Jungkook and nods, “Over there, short maroon dress. Waiting at the bar. Has a tall guy and another girl, dark hair and black dress with her.” Taehyung points and Jungkook looks.

It takes him a moment, but then he spots you, mid-laugh about something with your friends. A small smile tugs at his lips—you were undeniably cute. There’s something polished about the way you’ve styled yourself, striking a balance between playful and sophisticated. To Jungkook, though, you scream commitment. Your look isn’t meant to turn heads; it’s just confident. It’s a stark contrast to the more overtly flirty, bold style he usually goes for. That makes him curious—why would Jimin and Taehyung pick someone who seems so... relationship-minded?

“Her really?” He looked back at both of them. “Do you want to just hand me the three hundred dollars now?”

“I know you think it will be easy, but that is the type of girl who wants marriage. I think her need for a commitment is going to send you running.” Jimin rubs his hands together evilly.

Jungkook looks back to you again, thinking. Jungkook felt like he could very well be committed, he could do it probably better than most people. He just hasn’t wanted to or hasn’t had the time too.

“I will be Mr. Marriage Material from here on out.” Jungkook downs the rest of his beer, “Be ready to put your money where your mouth is.”

Jungkook stands up and leaves the table, they watch him go to work. Taehyung was now nervous and Hoseok was not even sure what he was watching anymore. Also confused by Jimin's choice.

“Okay, I gotta say he has a point.” Hoseok leans back to Jimin.

“Yeah now I’m kind of nervous.” Taehyung rubbed his neck, watching Jungkook who was waiting for an opportunity to maybe get a chance encounter with you. The two friends hovering around you weren’t making it easy.

“Trust me. I’ve seen that girl here before.” Jimin smiles.

“Do you know her?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow to him, now even more curious.

“Not at all, but I tried hitting on her once. Very sweet, turned me down though. Seriously, the moment I walked up she read me like an open book.” This was earlier this year and Jimin didn’t care, he had some personal things going on and did it on a whim. You immediately saw through his tactics and called him out on it.

“What did she do?” Taehyung became nervous.

“I tried hitting her with a line, and she just looked at me and laughed. Honestly, I might’ve been offended if she hadn’t been so sweet about it. She even apologized! Said she could tell I wasn’t serious. Sent me on my way before I could even react. I swear, I was a little dizzy afterward.”

“Oh wow.” Hoseok is putting the pieces together now. “Okay, I see, so she is going to see through Jungkook right away.”

“Exactly,” Jimin raises his glass, “If he gives off even a whiff of insincerity. She won’t give him the time of day. She very clearly wants someone who is into the long term relationship game and Jungkook… never will be.”

“So you’re not concerned, not even a little bit?” Taehyung asks one more time.

“Not even slightly.” Jimin clinked his glass against Taehyungs.

“So how is this going to work?” Ronnie looks between you and Jin.

“I’m not sure. What else do you know about him?” You look to Jin for advice on this. You came here sometimes but you weren’t as much of a frequent flier as Jin.

“Hmm, unfortunately I usually see him hit on girls who are more… obviously here for something casual.” He gestures towards another girl at the bar, she was dressed very differently than you were. More revealing, nothing wrong with that but it was starkly different to your look.

“So maybe it's a lost cause?” You frown.

“Absolutely not.” Ronnie protested waving her hand back and forth.

“Just means you might have to be the bold one. Instead of him coming to you, you go after him.” Jin nodded and rubbed his chin.

You stifled a laugh, “Yeah right.” Not like you couldn’t approach someone but it was still nerve racking. “I can’t do that.”

“It’ll be so easy. Looks he’s already coming over to the bar.” Ronnie nodded her head in his direction very subtly. You take a look from the corner of your eye and it was true. You turned your head pretending to see something else but catching a glance at him standing at the end of the bar, waiting.

Jungkook sees you look his direction and pretends to be occupied with something else.

“Okay well if this is going to work, shew.” You wave your hands for the both of them to head back to the table, you take an empty spot in front of the bar.

“Do you really think she can go up to him?” Ronnie nudged Jin, both of them push their way back to the table where Namjoon had been waiting.

“Definitely. Well… normally I’d say no but she’s so determined I think she can pull it off.” Jin looks back at you ordering another drink.

Once they both make it back to the table Namjoon takes notice, “Did she find someone?”

“Yes, he’s so cute.” Ronnie gushes.

“Too bad she has to get rid of him.” Jin shrugs as they all take their places and watch you from afar.

“I know.” Ronnie sighs.

“So what’s the plan?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow.

“She’s working up the courage to go up to him. I’ve seen the guy around before and he’s not really into her type. So she has to be bold.” Jin explains again, he looks over to Jungkook.

Jin takes notice that Jungkook has already noticed you. He finds it odd for a moment before he sees Jungkook start to move.

“Unless…” Jin starts.

“Oh looks like he’s making a move.” Hoseok gestures over to Jungkook. He pushes himself off the end of the bar to start moving to you but gets cut off by a group moving close to the bar.

“Let the games begin.” Jimin raises his glass. “We might make our money tonight.”

“Cross our fingers.” Taehyung chuckles and takes a sip of his drink.

“If he doesn’t blow smoke out of his ass you guys might be in for a long month.” Hoseok tilts his head watching Jungkook try to maneuver his way over to you. You were just barely getting a drink from the bartender.

From their end of the bar, your friends could see it happening in real time—Jungkook making his way toward you, not without some difficulty from the proximity of other people. They couldn’t help but laugh at his struggle.

“God, he’s like a moth to a flame,” Jin chuckled, crossing his arms. “Poor guy doesn’t even know what's going to happen.”

“Doubt it,” Ronnie added, leaning forward. “Y/N’s got this in the bag. He won’t know what hit him.”

Meanwhile, you weren’t so convinced that Jungkook was actually coming for you. After all, the girl beside you fit the typical type he seemed to gravitate toward—flirty, dressed to kill, and definitely giving him the look. Still, you had a plan brewing in your mind. If he wasn’t going to make the first move, you’d force his hand.

With a slight pivot on your heel right as he came up, you forced your shoulder into his chest. Just enough to stumble.

“Oh my god.” You gasp, steadying your drink that had split on your hand, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t spill on you did I?”

Jungkook’s initial reaction was a mix of surprise and awkward laughter. “Hey, no problem,” he said, chuckling. “Just missed the splash zone.”

“I swear I have two left feet these days.” You tuck some of your hair behind your ear. Faking your embarrassment, setting your drink down and getting a napkin.

“Well it’s a good thing I have two right feet.” Jungkook easing the tension and you laugh under your breath.

“You always this quick on your feet?” You tilted your head, offering him your hand—the one free of any cocktail spillage. “I’m Y/N.”

“Jungkook.” He took your hand with a grin, his gaze flickering over you like he was sizing up a challenge. He didn’t let go right away.

Now that he was closer, you could really take him in. He was infuriatingly attractive—the type you’d usually avoid for your own good. The type who knew he had an edge and knew how to use it.

Now that Jungkook could get a closer look at you, he just thought that you were pretty. Pretty hair, eyes, lips. All of you was just pretty and sweet. Could see that pink glowing heart of yours on your sleeve.

“What brings you here?” He leaned an arm against the bar, his stance casual yet deliberate, like he was marking his territory. His gaze pinned you down, leaving you no room to escape.

“Just out with friends, a celebration of sorts.” You turn and point to them, the three of them suddenly acting like their drinks were so interesting to look at.

“What’s the occasion?” He didn’t even glance at them; his focus was still fully on you. The intense eye contact actually makes you nervous.

“My promotion,” Smiling like it was the full truth. Or rather, the promotion standing right in front of you.

He nodded, flashing a grin. “Congrats. Big deal?”

“Very big.” You rested your hand on the bar near his, just brushing the surface between you. “What about you? Out celebrating something too?”

“Just out with friends.” Jungkook gestured back to his own group at the other end of the bar. You followed his gaze, recognizing one of the guys, though you couldn’t place from where.

“I should let you get back to them.” you teased lightly, leaning ever so slightly away from him.

He tilted his head with a grin, clearly not interested in letting you go that easily. “Why rush? I wasn’t planning to be gone long, but then I got the wind knocked out of me.”

You smirked, feeling the heat of his gaze on you as you playfully patted your shoulder. “Just practicing for my football career.”

“Not a football fan but I’d watch those games.” Jungkook was going to make some form of physical contact, which is what he would have done by now but he held back. He could tell that’s not something you would appreciate.“Let me buy you another one. Since you lost half of the that one because of me.”

“That’s very sweet.” You wanted to test the limits you had with him here, would he chase you? “But I should get back. My friends may think I ran off.”

“So soon?” He tilted his head at your sudden retreat.

“You seem nice,” You start and lean close, “I think I’m just looking for something… more serious.”

“Who's to say I’m not serious?” He gives you a puzzled expression. Jungkook had done so good with women lately that it felt strange to see such a sudden retraction.

You tilted your head, a teasing smile playing at your lips. “I’ve seen you around. I know your type.”

A lie. Considering you hadn’t seen him before tonight, you wanted to see if he would bite.

“So you’ve noticed me?” He stuck his tongue into the side of his cheek.

“I’m just saying I know your type.”

“What if I am serious? You’d be running away before you could find out.” He flirted, a boyish grin on his face that dripped confidence. He was actually nervous, and the three hundred dollar bill hanging over his head was adding some pressure.

You giggled, leaning back slightly as you took a slow sip of your drink, eyes locked on his over the rim. “You don’t strike me to be serious about much of anything.”

His gaze flicked to your lips before returning to your eyes, his voice softer now, “What if I want to prove you wrong?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Prove me wrong? You barely know me.”

He smirked, stepping a little closer, just enough to make the air between you crackle with tension. “Isn’t that half the fun? Getting to know someone new?”

“What makes you think I want to get to know you?”

“Call it intuition.”

Any other time, a guy like this coming up to you would have meant an immediate shut down from you. They were never serious, and they only ever wanted to hook up and never speak again. Tonight though Jungkook needed to be the bug caught in your web.

You pretended to mull it over, tapping the rim of your glass with your finger. “Hmm... cute line.”

“Not a line,” he shot back, more serious now. “But seriously, let me buy you a new drink?”

You were about to decline, but his eyes held yours, that quiet confidence making you hesitate just a second too long.

“Fine,” you said, sighing like you were giving in, but the small smirk tugging at your lips told him otherwise. “But you’re still going to have to work for it.”

“I plan to.” Jungkook leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping. “Let me get your number. I’ll take you out, show you what I mean by serious.”

You fake contemplation and act like you really needed time to think about it, sucker. You tap the rim of your glass for a moment before you reach your free hand out to him, gesturing for his phone. Jungkook takes the silent victory and pulls his phone out, opening it for you. With a few quick taps and your contact information solidified in his phone.

The deed had been done.

“Don’t disappoint me,” you said, handing it back, your tone playful but carrying an edge of warning.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Have a goodnight Jungkook.” Turning on your heel leaving him there and just letting him watch you go. You b-line straight back to your table.

Jungkook was feeling good and felt like this was going to be a breeze of a month. He had to make sure that first date went well first. He would put on his best boyfriend face forward, it’s not that he couldn’t do it like everyone thought. It’s just been a long time since he last had the chance too.

He made his way back over to his own table, he put on a fake sad face as he took his seat back next to Taehyung.

“Strike out did you?” Hoseok patted him on the shoulder in comfort.

“Yeah… struck off the first day of the month.” Jungkook raised his phone, revealing your phone number. Jungkook, a smug grin on his face.

“I’m surprised.” Jimin sat in quiet contemplation, “But it won’t last.”

“She’s cute. You guys should have picked more carefully.” Jungkook sighed, looking back into the bar in the direction of your friends and your table. Your back was to him so he couldn’t catch a glimpse of you.

He then remembered he still owed you a drink.

Across the bar you settled back in with your friends.

“I caught the whale boys.” You take a small bow and small cheers round around the table.

“Congratulations.” Namjoon cheers you, hitting his glass with yours.

Your friends leaned in, eager for the play-by-play of your encounter. You gave them the rundown. Ronnie, the first to break the silence, grinned and raised his glass in admiration.

“That was smooth, Y/N. You had him wrapped around your finger.”

You chuckled, taking a slow sip of your drink. “It’s even better that he thinks he’s in control. There's no way he was actually serious but a fun flirt.”

Jin shook his head, a mixture of amusement and awe on his face. “You’re scary when you’re confident. I’m glad I’m on your side.”

“So what’s the next step in this little experiment of yours?” Ronnie asked, clearly invested in the unfolding drama.

“Well,” you began, swirling your drink in thought, “I wait for him to reach out. Then I’ll play it cool on the first date, get him comfortable.”

“Why play it cool?” Namjoon asked, eyebrows raised.

“Because,” you smirked, “if I’m too much, too fast, he’ll bolt. But if I ease him in, I’ll have time to start slowly being weird.”

Just then, a waitress appeared, sliding a pretty pink drink in front of you. “This one’s from the guy across the bar,” she said, nodding toward Jungkook, who was leaning against the counter, already watching you. “He said you’d know him.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the boldness. Lifting the glass slightly, you gave him a small, acknowledging wave, your friends immediately picking up on the gesture.

“What’s it called?” you asked, eyes still locked on Jungkook.

The waitress grinned. “It’s a Cosmic Encounter.”

“How pretty.” you muttered, a playful smirk forming. You brought the glass to your lips, not breaking eye contact with Jungkook as you took a sip. The sweetness of the drink contrasted sharply with the building tension between the two of you.

If the circumstances were different you may let yourself swoon at the gesture. Picking a cute drink for you. You may try to see if you really could get him to be serious. This was not that though, this was all business and you would have to continue to remind yourself.

Ronnie was the first to speak up again, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I’ll admit, he’s got moves.”

“Just don’t forget this is what he does.” Jin knowing how you are, felt the reminder needed to be put out there. That this is all temporary.

Just as you were about to continue, your phone buzzed softly in your hand. A text. Your eyes drifted down to the screen, and sure enough, it was Jungkook.

Jungkook: Hope you like it… when are you free next?

You couldn’t help the smirk that spread across your lips. “Speak of the devil.”

Namjoon leaned over. “Already? He really wasted no time.”

“Faster than I thought,” you admitted, typing a quick reply.

:We’ll see, Jungkook. Maybe I’m busy.

The thrill of the chase was intoxicating, and as you sent the message, you could feel the game picking up speed. Both of you were circling each other, waiting for the right moment to strike.

You had no doubt, you were going to eat Jungkook alive.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

❥|| Next chapter

Taglist! : @vashimperial @httpjeonlicious @rinkud @vintagemoonsstuff @marimarvelfan @loomipee @leah-rose03 @irhdifartzamfyaa @smwhrinthehaze @tteokbokibyjk

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gguk-n · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 1- Chance Encounter

Accelerating Emotions (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- The Y/L/N moved to Melbourne. Oscar made a new friend. He got into karting and racing but his friend's sister still makes it difficult to breath sometimes. He had thought he would be over her by now, seems like he was wrong.

The reader has 2 brothers who I'm naming Ansel and Aldric and the reader is Y/N

The Y/L/N family moved to Melbourne, Australia in 2003 with their 2 kids, Y/N and Ansel, in search for a better future and a place to raise their kids. The sub-burbs of Melbourne served as a calm and healthy environment for the 2 kids with the addition of their youngest Aldric only 2 years later. The 3 kids were a handful but the Y/L/N wouldn't have it any other way.

Ansel, their oldest boy used to cry a lot when he would have to go to pre-school and the teachers would have to call his parents since it was getting difficult to manage the little boy until he met a boy who loved cars as much as he did. The calls from pre-school stopped suddenly alerting the parents who ended up finding out that Ansel had befriended a boy named Oscar and they were attached to the hip. The two boys started having play dates together at Oscar's place since Ansel's parents were too busy to host the boys and Oscar's mum, Nicole didn't mind having another kid around once in a while. Ansel would talk animatedly when describing his day which he never did before, eliciting a smile from his parents. Oscar loved his friend as well.

Ansel was 4 when he insisted on having Oscar over to show his car collection which had slowly been fluctuating and from what Mrs Y/L/N gathered from Mrs Piastri, the 2 boys had been exchanging cars with each other. So, one beautiful summer morning, Oscar was walking behind Ansel to his house with Mrs Y/L/N behind them with her year old son, Aldric in arms. The boys ended up playing around in the backyard after lunch and wouldn't come in until Oscar heard a shrill voice scream at Ansel to come in and have some fruits. The voice belonged to Ansel's older sister. She walked back in, "hmph, I hate her, she's so annoying" Ansel told Oscar. "It's a good thing your sisters are smaller than you, she only screams at me" Ansel whined as they walked inside.

Oscar was asked to sit on the sofa while Y/N brought out 2 fruit plates for the both of them. She handed the plate to Oscar and raised her hand forwards, "My name is Y/N" she said. Oscar shook her hand; "My name is Oscar" he said. "You're cute, not like my annoying brothers" she said while sticking her tongue out to her brother and ruffling Oscar's hair. Oscar hated when people touched his hair, "Don't touch my hair" he called out. "Sorry" she giggled while running away.

Oscar didn't know then but he knew now that he had the biggest crush on her. Y/N became a huge part of his life since his friendship with Ansel blossomed. His mother would invite both of Ansel's siblings to parties and soon enough just to hang out. Oscar liked hanging out with Y/N more than his sisters. She was cooler and older and they got to do whatever they wanted if his mom thought Y/N was watching over them. So, Oscar would initially invite her over so they could get away with whatever they wanted and he won't have to look over his sisters. Oscar's little sisters loved Y/N too since they had someone to play dolls and tea party and dress up with. Oscar, Ansel and Aldric were a team and Y/N and Oscar's little sisters were a team. You would find the 7 children playing in the backyard of the Piastri's or Y/L/N on evenings after school.

Oscar had started karting quite young and the 6 kids would be his biggest cheerleaders, their cheers could be heard whenever Oscar crossed the finish line whether he finished first or last. Oscar would shoot a smile at them whenever he would get out of his kart.

You could hear the 3 boys racing their remote control cars in the backyard. If anyone asked Oscar how he got so good at remote car racing; he would always site his friend and say that he helped him get better. Ansel would help Oscar in karting too; you would find the two boys tinkering and bickering about strategies. Oscar would also tell people that his friend helped him in karting but really Oscar had a talent for it and his friend enjoyed tinkering with the kart with Oscar's dad, making sure everything was in order and ready for Oscar to race. Oscar knew his friend wouldn't get into racing but he would probably make it to the world of racing since he loved cars and loved watching Oscar win with the kart he helped 'fix'.

As Oscar grew older, he realised that he had a bit of a crush on his friend's older sister. He would find himself looking for her whenever he visited their house or looking for her when his friend visited. It would always dampen his mood when he couldn't find her. But nothing dampened his mood like the time he found Y/N kissing a boy in her room back when he was 12. She was 13, Oscar didn't know she got herself a boyfriend, he didn't know that a boy over either. So, what a surprise, when he opened the door and saw her kissing a boy, I mean kissing as far as 13 year olds know how to. Oscar slammed the door shut and shouted an apology while running away. He spent the next few days thinking about the weird feeling he had when he saw that. And a few google searches later; he had a crush ON HIS BEST FRIEND'S SISTER. Oh, he was fucked. He saw her often enough that it might make it awkward. But Oscar was an actor; a trait he didn't know he possessed or so he thought.

Oscar's karting career was taking off; having had started to race professionally and even starting to finish on podiums at the end of championships. Ansel would be there to support his friend as often as he could. Oscar was thankful for everyone coming.

Sometimes, Oscar would come home to find Y/N with his mum helping her around the house. His sisters loved Y/N and would always prefer her over him; honestly he would also prefer her, he thought as he saw her cut up fruits for the kids. "Why are you always handing me fruit whenever I see you?" Oscar asked. "Because, you're small and this will help you as you grow older" she replied. "I'm not small, I'm 13" Oscar huffed. "Well, I'm 14 and I'm older than you. So, that means you'll always be younger than me" she snickered. "Now eat your fruits, kid" she commanded and left. Oscar hated this, he hated that she saw him as a kid.

Oscar should've learnt from his past mistakes but he never learns and caught Y/N with her next boyfriend and this time in a rather compromising position. Y/N didn't learn from her previous mistakes either, she should've locked the door. She knew that; Oscar and his sisters were over. She knew yet she was reckless but in her defence, she hadn't seen her boyfriend in a few days and the both of them were hormonal teenager and it slipped her mind. Now, she was sat on her boyfriend who was lying down with her top and bra off. Oscar wasn't sure if he wanted that imagine erased from his memory or imprinted since she got to see Y/N topless. As he quickly closed the door and ran down; he heard shuffling behind the door and a disheveled Y/N running after him and cornered him near the end of the stair case. Oscar had had a growth spurt, so he stood taller then Y/N. She had both her hands on either side of him; "Don't you dare tell anyone what you saw or I'll make sure you can never get a girlfriend" she threatened. She already made it difficult to get a girlfriend, Oscar thought, the threat was already a reality. Oscar just nodded. "Didn't realise you'd grown taller" she hummed as she let Oscar go while acting out, 'I'm watching you' with her two fingers and walked back up.

Oscar left for the UK when he knew his karting career was picking up and he wanted to be a professional Formula One driver. Nicole cried a lot. But the 6 other kids helped her cope with Oscar's absence. Oscar sighed a sigh of relief; maybe he would finally get over his childish crush. He even got himself a girlfriend eventually. He would barely visit his family due to school and the karting schedule and then eventually single seat racing schedule. He was getting better; he was getting quite good and winning championships and graduating to the next class to racing each year. He even made new friends. But Ansel was still his best friend and no amount of distance was about to change that for him.

Whenever Oscar visited he didn't really get to see Y/N even though he might have wished he did, but he would never admit it, not even to himself. It became an even rarer occurrence after Y/N started university and had moved from Melbourne. The next 4 years; the pair would always miss each other whenever they would visit. Though he would hear about Y/N's adventures from his mother or sisters. Y/N would hear a lot about Oscar from Oscar's or her own family. Both of them would hear about each other's achievements. To Y/N, Oscar was just the tiny child her brother befriended and now she had more siblings to look after. To Oscar, she was his first crush.

Y/N moved back to Melbourne for work; she got a teaching license after completing her Bachelors in Education in English. Currently, she was working as a pre-school teacher. She loved children and this was a great way to help the leaders and the future of tomorrow. Oscar had heard his mum say something about Y/N moving back but he didn't remember; he was in the middle of a break up with his long term girlfriend and the possible signing with a Formula One team fiasco. He had flown in to Australia soon after and spent time with his family. He was excited yet scared when he got signed to McLaren, who were replacing one Australian with another. A part of Oscar hoped to run into Y/N but apparently she was busy with school since it was her first year at the job.

"Mate, what's wrong? Why do you keep looking around?" Ansel asked sounding rather annoyed at Oscar who wasn't paying attention to the game in front of them. "Our teams gonna lose the match at this rate" Ansel almost screamed. "Sorry....it's nothing" Oscar quickly replied. "No one's home. Y/N's house hunting, Aldric's out with his friends and mum and dad are out on a date. We won't be disturbed" Ansel muttered as he passed the ball to Oscar in FIFA. "Oh, okay" Oscar muttered getting back to the game not before he heard his friend sigh but didn't ask why. After the match, the two boys were sat munching on some chips, "Is Y/N moving out?" Oscar asked tentatively. "Oh yeah, she's been trying to get a decent place for a while but teacher's pay is shit; so it's taking her some time" Ansel said. "That means she won't be over often?" Oscar asked quietly. "Probably, but both our moms need her too much, they missed her so much while she was in college. It wasn't funny. Thank God she moved back because it was getting quite annoying. She's always doing stuff around both of our homes or with them anyways. So, she should still be over. Plus she takes your sister to her extracurriculars since Nicole's busy lately." Ansel added. "Oh" is all that left Oscar's mouth.

Oscar sadly returned to the UK before he got to meet Y/N. He hadn't seen her since she moved for university except in pictures his mum would send. But he had a bigger fish to fry; his new life as a Formula One driver from next year onwards.

2023 started with a lot of training on Oscar's part to prepare himself for the year. His first 2 races left much to be desired by Oscar. His third race was in his home. His family and Ansel's family had come to support him through out the weekend except Y/N. On Sunday, Oscar was chatting with Lando when everyone came. That's when he saw her. She looked as beautiful as ever; he wasn't sure if she had made his breath stop like she did just now as he watched her laugh along with his sisters. She turned around and as their eyes met, she shot him a smile; walking towards him. Fuck, he thought, he couldn't feel his tongue in his mouth or how to form words anymore, honestly.

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wonwoosthetic · 2 years ago

Note

Hi, I was wondering if I could get a Joel x reader pre - outbreak maybe they get in a fight and are giving each other the silent treatment .. I know it’s stupid sorry

Cold Brownies

pairing - pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x female!reader

word count - 6.9k (I got a bit carried away😅)

warnings - a bit of jealousy, fighting, mention of an age gap if you squint, and just a quick mention of smut but nothing explicit, but still very domestic and cute and fluffy ˙ᵕ˙

a/n: aaaaaah, my very first piece about Joel Miller hihi 🤗🫣 and your request was anything BUT stupid!!!! thank you so much for the request! 🤍🤍 I hope you enjoy it ˙ᵕ˙ I loved writing this soooo much, I'm such a sucker for domestic pre-outbreak!Joel😭

series masterlist

2003

“All I’m asking is that you could maybe tone it down a bit, alright?"

You were making your way to the front of the house, Sarah ahead of the two of you with the keys in her hands, ready to open the door, while you were hot on Joel's tracks.

“What- you want me to be rude to them?” He stopped to turn around and glare at you with confusion written across his face. In his right hand, he carried his daughter's bag from the football match you had just come home from, along with the football in his left hold.

“Jesus Christ, Joel!" You threw your hands up in the air in desperation, hoping to bring some sense into his head after noticing this discussion was not going where you had wanted it to go. "No, not rude! I just don’t need to see you all flirty and cute around the single mothers there!”

“They’re not single, Y/N!”

“That makes it even worse!”

With a huff, he turned back around to continue his way into the house. He threw the bag into the corner of the hallway before walking straight ahead past the living room to enter the kitchen. You followed him, closing the front door behind you with a sigh, shaking your head along with it.

It had been evident to you that he wouldn't react to your complaint amazingly, but it was still something you had wanted to bring up after noticing the hungry looks of the women standing by the field. It hadn't been the first time today, and you knew it wouldn't be the last time. And you were tired of just being the side-chick of Joel Miller that would come along on Sundays to cheer on your daughter's football team during their match. Because that's what you felt like. His side-chick. Not his wife. At least not in the eyes of the other mothers.

The two of you were usually known for having little to no fights. You had always been good at communicating, but this time it just seemed to hit you a little deeper and a lot harder.

Once you had caught up with him, your eyes found Tommy sitting at the dining table, munching on what was left of your lunch. Sarah had stopped to stand by one of the chairs right next to him to start a conversation, but they were quickly interrupted by Joel and you.

While you stood in the dining room, your arms crossed, staring at his moving form, he poured himself a cup of probably already cold coffee. “Do you seriously have such little faith in me whenever you see me talking to another woman?” He squinted at you.

Your hands found their way to your hair, brushing it out of your face hastily as you tried to clear your head. “No, God… please, it’s not you that I don’t trust-“

“But those women?! Why?! They just want to talk!” At this point, Tommy and Sarah shared a quick glance, immediately recognizing they shouldn't be in the room with you anymore. They quickly stood up and rushed out, leaving you two in the heated argument that filled the room with anger and tension, as well as frustration and pleads.

You could feel your throat starting to close up, but you swallowed it down, hoping it would buy you some time before you would have to let loose of your emotions. “Because I used to be one of those women that ‘just wants to talk to you’!" You mocked his comment, "And look at where I am now!”

“You gotta be kidding me. You can’t have that little trust in others. OR in me.” Why he wasn't hearing you was still a mystery to you. He used to be so good at communicating.

“It's not that!" You argued, "I just know exactly what these women think of when they come up to you a-and don’t even acknowledge me standing next to you." The emotions started showing earlier than you would've liked to. You had to sniffle, catching Joel's attention as his head shot towards you. He sighed.

“They realise you’re right there, they talk to you just as much.” The man had lowered his voice, hoping a softer tone would make the situation easier. But it wasn't the volume of the discussion that was the problem.

You scuffed, “Yeah, to ask me how you’re doing and if you’ve gotten even more handsome over the last week.”

In any other situation, Joel would've smirked at your statement. Hell, you probably would've delivered it with a proud smirk, knowing exactly that yes, he would in fact get more good-looking with each week passing. You had been trying to convince him of his looks ever since you could remember, for a good four years that you had been together, but there was still a wall in front of him that wouldn't accept any compliment that easily. And that made you all that madder because it seemed like receiving complimenting words from the mothers back at the football field affected him more than yours ever did.

Joel clearly had enough of the scene you were playing out,

"This is getting ridiculous." He raised his hands in defence. “It’s alright, we can talk about this later," walking past you once again to walk into the living room, not finding his daughter nor his brother there, making him wonder where they had gone to.

“No, we can’t.” You fought back, following him with your eyes, only taking a few steps into the other room.

After throwing himself onto the cushioned sofa, he put the mug on the coffee table in front of him. With his hands now free, he was able to lean forward, his elbows resting on his knees he rubbed his eyes with his palms. “Y/N, I really can’t do this right now-“

“You don’t wanna talk about it?" You scoffed, "Fine. Then- Then let’s just not. You’re right. Let’s just pretend this never happened, and I’m overreacting because everything’s fucking fine.” Not wasting another second, you moved your body to the stairs leading to the upper floor.

“Darlin'-“

But you stopped him by shouting down.

“Everything’s fine!”

Everything was in fact not fine. And every single person in the Miller household could tell.

The night before, you were able to avoid your partner most of the time. When Sarah had asked if you'd come to the dining table for dinner, you used work as an excuse to stay in the office corner your husband had built in the garage, sitting at the desk, deep in some documents that you could not concentrate on. Not even for a second.

Before Joel had made his way up to bed, you had already taken a shower and cuddled yourself up into the bed, hiding most of your body under the covers. You weren't asleep when he joined you. But you pretended to be. And it worked. For the entire night, the two of you didn't touch each other, not even with your feet by accident - maybe in your sleep, but how would you have been able to tell.

But still in the morning, while both of you were rushing through the kitchen, getting breakfast, coffee and orange juice ready, while also tugging on your clothing and fixing your hair, moving around the room frantically, you didn't share a word with each other. Not a single one.

Sarah and Tommy eyed you suspiciously from their spots at the dining table. The uncle was slurping on his coffee while the girl had a piece of bacon in her mouth.

"Damn..." the man whispered, receiving a nod from his niece right next to him. "How long has this been going on for?" The silence was something highly unusual for this household. Joel and you were known to be a quite melodic couple. Filling early mornings with chatter and laughter while you tried to brighten up the older man's face, knowing he wasn't the biggest fan of that time of the day. But there you were. Silently moving around each other.

Sarah picked up some eggs with her fork, "Since yesterday. I don't think they've talked through their argument yet," before stuffing her mouth with it.

"You don't say," the man sent her a side-eye, going back to the hot liquid in his mug. "What do you call?" He leaned back.

The girl shrugged, "He did something wrong."

"Well, obviously," Tommy rolled his eyes, "but what?"

"I think it was something about him not realising he's being flirted with and just going along with it because he wants to be nice."

He scoffed, "Idiot..."

"Blind idiot," his niece corrected him, only to get told off by her father.

"Hey," he pointed at her, "Watch your mouth." He didn't have the energy to comment on the other words he had heard coming from them.

Before she was able to say something smart back at him, he continued, "Hurry up eating, I'll be outside in the car." And left the room through the backdoor leading to the garage without another word.

The moment he closed the door, you let out a deep sigh you had held in the entire time the two of you shared a kitchen.

"He'll come back to his senses," the voice of your step-daughter made you walk over to the table, taking a seat in front of your two family members.

The cup of tea in your hands warmed your palm. "I don't know..." you mumbled before bringing the mug up to your lips.

"He's just acting stubborn as fuck," Tommy shook his head.

Sarah gasped, "Don't curse, there are children here." Receiving a subtle chuckle from you.

For a second, you shared a quick moment of silence before you put the mug down, "But am I over-reacting?" You asked them, "Like... am I looking too much into this?" But the shake of their head assured you, making you lean back into the chair with a huff.

"You think I enjoy watching these women gawking over him? It's disgusting. You should be the only one allowed to do that," Sarah explained, tickling a smile out of you.

"Shouldn't you be disgusted by me doing that?"

But she just shrugged, "It's kinda cute," before looking you dead in the eyes, "But don't tell him that."

You chuckled, "I won't. It's not like we're talking to each other these days anyways."

"Look," Tommy had had enough, "Like Sarah said, once Joel gets that stick out of his ass-"

"I never said that."

"Whatever," he jokingly brushed her off, "Once that happens. He'll start apologising. Joel's always been a little oblivious about that stuff. You don’t remember how it was with you?"

"But how?" You wondered, "They're literally undressing him with their eyes!"

"EW, gross!" The young girl exclaimed, making you send her an apologetic smile,

"Sorry..."

"We were taught to be nice and respectful to all kinds of women, Y/N. I don't know what else to tell you," Tommy got up at the sound of his brother's car honking, tapping Sarah on the arm to copy his actions. You watched her disappear back upstairs to grab her backpack while you stood back up to start cleaning the mess that had been left behind from making breakfast.

When you were about to walk past Tommy, his soft grasp on her lower arm stopped you. You looked up to meet his eyes.

"Don't you dare even think that Joel would ever leave you for one of those chicks," he told you quietly, but sternly, "He knows you're way out of his league." His first statement made you smile fondly while the second one made you chuckle and slap his chest.

"Tommy!"

"I'm being serious, Y/N," his hand brushed over the back of your head. He took a few steps back, a smirk still plastered on his lips, "But hey, you know, I still have quite a good amount of friends that would DIE to get to know you."

"Stop it!" You looked around for a cloth to throw at him, doing so once you found a wet one right by the sink. He jumped back, letting it hit the floor, continuing his laughing as he walked towards the back door. "Just saying," he raised his hands, "My brother's an old fuck, you might want to relocate."

You could only shake your head in disbelief, "You're unbelievable, you know that?" Earning yourself a mischievous grin from the younger Miller brother.

You had known Tommy for longer than you had known Joel. You met him at a night out, hitting on one of your friends after you realised that that dude used to be the same guy that had given your parents multiple headaches with that friend group of his in their old restaurant. You remembered them tumbling in some late evenings when you helped out after school, or even just wanted to do your homework in a corner. They pretended to not be drunk, when they definitely were, as best as they could. As much as it annoyed you and your family back then, they did bring a lot of other young people in and within only a few months, you had more visitors than ever. The memory made both of you laugh out loud in the bar and your friendship developed from then on. He even tried setting you up with multiple of his so-called other friends 'that would DIE to get to know you'. But he had failed. HARD. Every single time. His friends were… just not it...

That‘s because you had met his brother, and well... everything fell into place afterwards, leading to you now standing in the kitchen.

"What did you do now?" Sarah wondered, finding the piece of fabric on the floor, glancing at her uncle with her arms crossed.

You shook your head, "Nothing, don't worry about it. He's just trying to be funny."

She rolled her eyes overdramatically, "Ugh... again?" Getting a soft tap on the head from the man in question.

You sent them off with a smile and a goodbye wave, wishing both a good day as they left you alone in the house. All by yourself, along with your thoughts and worries and a good amount of chores to get done.

After Sarah had come back from school, you offered her a serving of the lunch you had prepared on your day off, giving yourself one as well. You sat together by the dining table, chatting about your day while listening to her ranting about her school and her teachers - her English teacher in particular. There was just something she didn't like about that guy.

Before you knew it, the evening had arrived as you got done hoovering the living room, letting yourself fall back into the couch with a heavy breath tumbling from your lips.

The argument from the day before had been haunting you the entire day, draining you of every last bit of energy you had left. You went over everything you had said and all the things you'd want to tell Joel once you were back on speaking terms. And yeah... about that too. How long could the two of you go without talking to each other? You never went longer than a day, so you already broke that record. In all honesty, you didn't want to drag it out for much longer. You hated it. As much as you were still annoyed at your husband and the oblivion he was in, the love and care you felt for him were much stronger than that.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the young girl coming down the stairs slowly. You only looked up at the sound of the stairs creaking underneath her feet.

"Mom?" She softly called out for you, staying behind the wall while searching for your eyes in the softly dimmed room. It had already gotten dark outside and the only light in the room came from the small lamp on the side table to your right.

"Hm?"

Sarah looked down at her feet, her fingers drawing circles on the wallpaper, "I-ehm... so..." you patiently waited for her to continue, "You know how we have bake sales every now and then at school?"

You scrunched your eyebrows at the random question, "Of course... why?"

Then a sheepish smile made its way to her face, "Weeelll..."

"Well?"

"I may or may not have a bake sale tomorrow morning and need something for it," she quickly spilt out, only daring to look up at the end of her statement.

Your hands immediately came up to hide your face, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose, "Sarah... please tell me you're kidding."

"No...," she hugged herself shyly, "Sorry..." Coming a few steps closer, she stopped next to you, joining you on the sofa, the sly grin still on her face.

You sighed, looking at her, "You know, you're gonna be the death of me, right?" But she just showed you her teeth with a wide smile.

"Well..." you collected your thoughts, "Your dad has the car... and if I go to the store now, it'll be closed when I arrive. So... let's see if Tommy can go get some stuff because we have absolutely nothing in this house." You leaned over to reach for your phone that was laying on top of the coffee table.

"No!" The girl beat you and got a hold of your phone first, holding it tightly to her chest.

You looked at her in confusion, "What?"

"Eh... I- Why uncle Tommy? Dad should be on his way back from work now. It'll be way more practical if he buys it."

With a sigh and a nod, you gave in, "Well then, go on. Call him." But she shook her head. Her hand reached out to hand you back the device.

"Why not?" You wondered, slightly worried about the way she was acting.

"...I don't want him to be mad at me." You wanted to say something, but she continued, "If you call him, he won't get mad."

"Sarah..." another sigh of yours rang through your ears as you blinked at her. But she defeated you. With those goddamn puppy eyes, she inherited from her father, that neither you nor Joel could say no to - you more than him usually, but you were in a vulnerable place, so giving in came easily.

"Pleeaase, mom." The small word still brought a smile to your face - she knew exactly how to get you. You may not have been there her entire life, but for a good important chunk of it, and she appreciated that very much. It was on your wedding day when she asked you if she could call you 'mom' from now on. And it made you cry right at that exact moment.

You snatched the phone out of her hands and shook your head with a soft smile on your lips. She knew just how cute she was. After all, she was a very smart little girl.

You got up from the sofa and made your way over to the kitchen, already clicking on the number you had gotten so familiar with. Only two rings later, the deep voice of your partner erupted,

"Hey, everything okay?" You almost smiled at the concern in his voice. He knew you rarely ever called but prefered to send quick texts.

You scratched the back of your neck, "Hi, yeah... ehm... where are you?"

"Just got into the truck, why?"

"So... Sarah just remembered that she has a bake sale tomorrow," you explained, already hearing the deep sigh, along with a cruse word, coming from him, "But I can't make it to the store in-"

"What do you wanna bake, darlin'? What do you need?" You didn't ignore the way your body reacted to the nickname. You couldn't just let it pass like that. Even after all the years of being with him, his sweet tongue still made you feel like a little college girl. The heat rose up to your cheeks, painting them beautifully red as you ushered around the kitchen.

"Eh... wait a second," you opened the refrigerator, "We have eggs, we... don't have butter, so butter. We should have some flour and sugar. But we'd definitely need chocolate or-"

"What about a brownie mix?"

You perked up, "You really want to send your daughter to a baking sale with brownies from a pre-made mix?"

"Why not," he probably shrugged, "I can guarantee you, sweetheart, no one cares," the engine of the car roared in the background.

Unknowingly, your eyes drifted over the counter to the corner where a picture of the three of you was placed. Taken by Tommy, it showed you and Joel hugging the sweet girl in the middle while her face was covered in cake frosting. It was your, back then, boyfriend's idea to make her laugh, and boy, did he accomplish that. The echoes of her high-pitched giggles still roamed your brain as you were brought back to the day of her birthday party when she had turned 11 years old. Already then, the older Miller brother knew he was going to ask you to marry him one day. Never ever had either one of you been that happy when with another person.

That's when the memory of his proposal speech came back to you. Joel was a big romantic. Whether he wanted to admit it or not. But his plans of the original proposal were thrown out the window when a massive storm surprised the entire city, forcing you to stay inside the comfort of your own home.

Since Sarah was over at Tommy's place after the older man had begged him to do so, you had the house to yourself and you better bet, you made the best out of it. After multiple rounds in each other's embrace, exchanging passion and lust for each other, you found yourself in your bed, on his lap, still not tired of kissing the hell out of him. You were surprised when he stopped you for a second with,

"I have something to ask you," whispering it against your mouth before he leaned back to stretch his arm to get whatever he was looking for out of the drawer of his nightstand. You eyed him suspiciously, your fingers still intertwined behind his neck. You could feel your heart genuinely stop for a second or two when your gaze got stuck on the small red velvet box.

"Joel..." The topic of marriage had come up before, of course. But only because he wanted to make sure that the two of you were on the same page, and after doing that, he just had to find the right time to find a ring and actually propose.

He lifted a hand to stop you, "Just wait. Just for a minute," interlocking your eyes with his as he breathed out, "I had this whole thing planned," he shook his head, "I wanted it to be much more romantic than this. But God... I-I can't wait anymore."

Once his actual speech started, you couldn't help the tears in your eyes to well up. You had heard him say 'I love you' so many times before, but that love confession of his was something you had never ever received before. You felt safe with him. Loved, like no one else. How could you have said no? You knew he was the one for you. The one whose arms you wanted to fall asleep in for the rest of your life, only to wake up in a completely different position due to his restless sleeping habit. You wanted to forever hear Sarah remind him of his terrible eating habits, joining forces with her by making him drink more orange juice. You didn't even think you could live without Tommy barging into the house at the most inconvenient times, disturbing any romantic moment you'd get with your partner. That was the future you so desperately prayed for. And now you were finally going to get it.

You snapped back into the present.

"Have we really become those parents?" A soft chuckle dared to escape your lips, but Joel stole it.

"It had to happen someday."

Forty minutes later, the front door opened, making you look up to the left, only to direct your eyes back on the TV as soon his met yours.

"Hey," he talked quietly, finding Sarah asleep in your lap as he passed you.

"Hi," you greeted him back, the tension suddenly thick in the room. You followed him into the kitchen, careful about putting your daughter's head down gently.

You stopped by the fridge, leaning on it, your gaze travelling along with his moving figure while he put away the groceries he had just bought. Even though you were still not in the mood of talking to him, the words from yesterday still lingering with you, you decided to swallow at least a little bit of your pride.

"Thank you," you cleared your throat softly, "for... getting the stuff." He turned his entire body to look at you, eyes slightly wider than usual, sending you a somewhat subtle surprised facial expression.

"‘Course," he nodded.

"Well then... I'll..." Jesus, when did talking become so hard, "I'll let Sarah know we can start."

Just as you were about to walk back into the living room, the voice of your husband took you back, "No, let her sleep."

You moved towards him, "But she needs them for tomorrow, we-"

"I'll do it. I'll make the brownies," he sighed, finishing putting everything away, and leaving the few ingredients he'd need on the counter.

"Joel, no... that's her responsibility," you ignored his body coming towards you as you tried not to raise your voice, keeping it low since the girl was still asleep.

He placed his hands on your shoulders, only to turn you with a gentle touch, making you face the living room, attention immediately on the little girl. A few seconds of silence passed.

"Look at her," the man whispered into your ear, too close for the current tension that was still between you, "You really want to wake her up?"

You shrugged out of his grasp, "Don't make me the bad guy now," brushing past him into the kitchen.

Joel huffed out a deep breath, slightly shaking his head, "I'll get her upstairs." He didn't wait for a response from you, knowing he wouldn't get one anyway and walked over to pick his daughter up into his arms, carrying her upstairs into her bedroom.

In the meantime, you decided to get to work, reading the instructions on the brownie-mix packaging. You preheated the oven and made sure the eggs weren't too cold before looking for the fitting bowl, which wasn't where it was supposed to be. A sigh fell from your lips. Joel had a habit of putting stuff into new places and not where you had insisted they should be.

"In the cupboard next to the dishwasher," his deep voice suddenly spoke up from behind you, "I forgot where you usually put it."

With a quiet, almost silent 'thanks' you went to grab it before putting it next to the rest of the stuff. Joel was next to you within the blink of an eye, taking the bowl from your grasp.

"I can-"

"Let me," he softly argued back, bringing the eggs closer to him before starting by opening up the brownie mix and pouring the powder into the bowl.

"Joel-" you wanted to talk back, but his hand on top of yours on the counter stopped you,

"I wanna help," he gazed down at you, while you had to look up to meet his eye. It only lasted for a second, before you moved again, on the look for the next thing you'd need: a brownie baking dish. Thankfully, it was where you remembered you had put it.

The two of you worked separately from each other. You, just as much as Joel, were still very aware of the weight on both of your shoulders. The argument was still undiscussed and it was weighing you down. Both of you. The only interaction you shared was putting the baking tin in front of him to pour the batter in.

After you shoved it into the oven, with a quiet "careful" from your partner as he opened the oven door for you, there was no longer any sound that accompanied the silence between you two. Now it was just true stillness. No clinker, no whisk hitting the bowl, or anything else.

Neither one of you wanted to be in this position as you stood opposite of each other, each leaning back on the counter. You wanted to scream to break the tension. Thankfully, Joel took the lead.

"Darlin'," still that soft tone lacing his voice, "I'm-"

"No, Joel-"

"Please," he looked up at you, hoping to meet your eyes, only for you to find the same ones that had begged for you to call him your husband. The same puppy-eyed look. "May I?" He was so gentle, just how you knew him. You nodded, followed by crossing your arms in front of your stomach.

"I'm sorry." He spoke honestly, standing up straighter, "I'm sorry for what I said and... I'm sorry for being a blind idiot."

Your eyes fell down to your feet, running your toes along the wood as a smile crept its way onto your face at the mention of Sarah's choice of words.

"You're not an idiot," the sudden sound of your voice reaching his ear made him take a deep breath. You looked back up at him. "Maybe blind, but not an idiot."

But he shook his head, "No, I am." He started playing with his hands, "But can you blame me?" The scrunch of your eyebrows in confusion made him continue, "For four years, my eyes have only been on you. All I care about is you. And Sarah, of course," he added quickly, making you grin. He smiled at the sight, daring to take a step closer to you, noticing you warming up at his words, "I could not give less of a fuck about those other women. You're the only one that has been occupying my mind. I promise you that." They were small steps, but soon enough, he stopped right in front of you, keeping one foot between you two, and meeting your glassy eyes with his soft ones. "I haven't had to flirt with anyone in forever. How am I supposed to notice it then, when someone else is doing it to me? Especially, when it's not my wife. I don't care. I might continue being nice because that's just the human thing to do, but God... I..." he took a deep breath, taking that last step to be all that much closer to you. He trapped you in between his arms, resting his palms against the counter on either side of you. His left hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumbs gently moving against your skin. "I only have eyes for the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And I, the lucky bastard that I am, got to marry her." He caught the tear falling from your eye, leaning forward to kiss the wet stain before it could roll down your cheek. But his action just brought more tears into your eyes as your brain ran through the words you had just heard. You couldn't hold back a sniffle.

"Don't make me cry," you tried to free yourself from his grasp, bringing your hands to your face, trying to hide your weeping face from your husband, but he was having none of that, immediately getting a hold of your hands and pulling them down.

"I'm sorry, Gorgeous," Joel replaced your hands with his, wiping away every falling tear while gazing lovingly at you, catching your eyes never leaving his face.

You sniffled again, "I'm sorry, Joel." Both of his hands held onto your face. "I... I trust you with my life, I really do," you tried to speak through your tears, making the corners of his lips curl up, "B-But those women... at the match-"

"It's okay," he leaned forward once again, peppering your cheeks with gentle kisses over and over again, while a small smile appeared on your face at the feeling of his close touch again. "I get it," he kept on holding onto your face, making sure you kept your eyes on him, "I don't trust other men either. I know you're way too good for me. I'm a blind idiot that doesn't deserve you."

You started giggling as you hit his chest, "Stop, no," sniffling one last time when the tears had stopped falling from your eyes.

"No, I am. I realise that now," he assured you, shaking his head, "Jesus... I had to listen to Sarah calling me that like... a dozen times. And that was just on the way to school. Plus I got a big fat scolding from Tommy. He threatened to hook you up with his friends." Joel followed you with laughter after you erupted in giggles from his story, your forehead falling to his chest while your arms came up around his lower torso as his wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you to him as tightly as he possibly could, breathing in the beautiful scent of your hair.

You decided to enjoy a few moments of comfortable silence, staying engulfed in each other's arms before you leaned back a bit to lift your head, making him look down at you. The same smile on his face as it was present on yours.

"No one could ever replace you," you assured him. In the next moment, not giving your husband any time to react, you stood up on your tippy toes and puckered your lips, indicating for him to lean down, which he did without even thinking for a second. It was a natural reaction.

You only gifted him a quick peck before pulling back again.

"I love you, Joel." Followed by another quick kiss.

"I love you so much more, darlin'," he spoke against your lips, his finger tracing down the side of your face.

You squinted your eyes at him, "Mmmm... I don't think that's possible." Your comment made his eyebrows shoot up, "Oh?" He teased you, "You want me to show you that it is in fact possible?"

The not-so-subtle blush was evident on your cheeks as you pressed your lips together, "You know I'd never say no to getting dicked down."

Joel wanted to grin, SO BADLY. But he kept up his act, just staring down at you in confusion. "Getting dicked down? The hell you talkin' about, woman?" Unknowingly, the two of you started gently swaying side to side as he looked around the room, "I was thinkin' 'bout making you a nice dinner, a bit of cuddlin' maybe-"

You pinched his side, getting his attention back to you. He glanced at you with a wicked smile decorating his face. He leaned down closer to you, stopping just as your lips were about to touch, "But I can work with your idea as well.“

You were first down in the kitchen the following morning. Dressed and styled for work, with a pleased look never leaving your face. You felt good again. The invisible weight had clearly been lifted off you as you swiftly moved through the kitchen. The smell of pancakes filled the room when the cute familiar voice of your daughter made you turn around.

"Mornin'."

You smiled as she walked up to you, hugging your side, hiding her still sleepy face in your shoulder, "Good morning, sweetie," you patted her unruly, yet beautiful curly hair.

She went to grab her beloved orange juice from the fridge before settling down at the dining table just like every other morning. Finally, a normal morning again. A comfortable small talk erupted between the two of you as you asked her about the school day she had ahead of herself.

In the middle of it, you brought a plate of pancakes to her, placing it right under her nose, along with a fork and the maple syrup she enjoyed so much. As soon as your back was turned towards her, eyes on the other pancakes sizzling in the pan, the third and final person in the house came down the stairs. You would be able to recognize those heavy footsteps from a mile away.

Joel greeted his daughter first, kissing the top of her head, "Mornin', baby girl." Before he joined you next to the stove, his arm immediately wrapping around you, to turn you towards him, "And a good mornin' to you too, gorgeous," smashing his lips onto yours. Your hand found its way to his cheek while his stopped at your ass.

"Children are present!" Making you lean back with a chuckle, slapping his hand to move from his position.

He turned around to jokingly glare at the girl, "Look away!" To which she just rolled her eyes.

Joel brought you back into his arms, giving you a few more kisses before getting interrupted another time, making him groan and you giggle.

"Oooooooh, well don't you two look adorable!" The younger Miller brother exclaimed, entering the house with a wide smile plastered on his face. He took his signature seat next to Sarah, stelling a piece of pancake from her, "Mom and dad getting along again?"

She nodded, "Looks like it."

Your husband wanted to get one more kiss from you, but a plate being shoved into his chest stopped him. He looked down before gazing into your eyes again, "Chocolate chip?"

"Blueberry." Your answer made him look at you with scrunched eyebrows. "Vitamin C," you grinned, giving his cheek one last peck before ushering him out of the kitchen.

You watched the three sitting at the table, smiling at the little family in front of you when you remembered something.

"Oh!" You moved back into the kitchen, snatching the Tupperware box from the counter, and bringing it into the dining room with you. "Here, sweetie, don't forget these."

"Ah, thanks, mom," she smiled at you, taking the box and placing it right next to her.

Tommy eyed the box, "What's that?"

"Brownies," you simply answered, taking a seat on the only other free chair, "We baked them for her last night."

"What are you celebrating?" His question was directed at his niece but you answered him.

"Nothing, her school's having a bake sale." Joel nudged your arm, his fork right in front of you, waiting for you to open your mouth, so he could feed you a piece of his pancakes. You knew better than to say no, remembering all the times you had tried to do that and he'd basically won and made you take the food in one way or another.

The younger brother glanced at you in question, "No, she doesn't?"

"Yes, she does, she forgot and told me yesterday."

But he just shook his head again, taking a quick look at his niece, "No, you don't. I know whenever those bake sales are." As soon as he saw the looks on your and Joel's faces, he quickly continued, "All the pretty teachers are outside during them, and I... you know... just happen to be there coincidentally. Buying them all that stuff from those kids."

You closed your eyes in disbelief, shaking your head, "Jesus..."

The older brother shrugged, "Can't say I'm surprised about that."

Tommy moved his attention towards Sarah again, "So what the heck were you talking about?"

All eyes were on the little girl, giggling in her seat as she leaned back in the chair, the curls on her head bouncing along with her laughs. "Yeah... so ehm... maybe that was a bit of a lie," sending you a sheepish smile.

"What?!" You exclaimed, switching between looking at her and your partner to your right.

She immediately raised her hands, "But you two are talking again!"

"What does that have to do-"

"OOOOOH," Tommy shot up from his seat, engulfing his niece in a tight hug, "You smart little girl, oh I love you," kissing the top of your head multiple times. All while Joel and you sat there, at least sharing the confusion between each other.

Your husband put his fork down, "Are we morons? What am I not getting here?"

His brother grinned at him, walking past him to slap the back of his head, "Your amazing daughter tricked the two of you into talking to each other again," he sang and stopped to stand in between the two of you, throwing his arms around you, pulling you in close, "She got all that smartness from me."

"Sarah!" You couldn't believe your ears. That little 13-year-old girl... you knew she was smart... but damn... Where did she learn how to read people that well?

She smiled, standing up to bring her plate into the kitchen, "It worked though!"

Tommy released you to follow her, finally looking for his mug to get his morning cup of coffee.

The two of you stayed seated, still in disbelief at what you had just found out. You got tricked. Tricked you into putting your guard down and giving into the sweet mouth of your husband. She knows both of you too well.

"That's your kid," you pointed at the girl by the dishwasher while looking at Joel, who grinned at you, his hand now on your thigh.

His other hand wrapped around your finger, pushing it down and pulling you into him. "That's our kid. Our very smart kid," he smiled against your lips, making you do so as well before the soft touch of his mouth against yours sent a tingle through your body once again. You could never get tired of that, that was for sure.

There was the future you had always dreamed of.

joel taglist: @corvusmorte

pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask

#Joel miller x reader #Joel miller #imagine #imagines #one shot #Pedro pascal #x reader #the last of us #pre-outbreak!Joel x reader #domestic #fluff #pre-outbreak #joel x wife!reader #x wife!reader

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darknight3904 · 21 days ago

Text

All Too Well

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: After meeting Joel one late night at a bar you launch into a whirlwind romance with him. But, between a nasty breakup and the end of the world, you're left with nothing but your thoughts of the past and the way they haunt you all too well.

Warnings: 18+ Mature themes including: language, loss of virginity sexual references, SA (Not by Joel), Animal death, starvation.

Based on the song by Taylor Swift.

Word Count: 6.5k

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Winter 2023

Jackson was a town that was almost too good to be true. You had stumbled upon it nearly 7 years ago after fleeing in the middle of the night from a band of men that had captured you. Your sanctuary was just getting started then, but the group that was working there, welcomed you with open arms and as many supplies as they could spare.

It was your own little slice of paradise in this post-apocalyptic world you were stuck in. Away from FEDRA's iron fist and the horrors that evil people inflicted on others, most days you felt like you were living the life you used to back in 2003.

Of course, some things were different now. The TV in the corner of your living room was useless and most of your meals were communal in the mess hall. But, you loved it all anyway, glad to be away from the harsh world that lay outside the walls.

Even when you were assigned to clean out the horse stables, you loved your community. Jackson was your perfect little universe, undisturbed by the past and-

"Oh, shit...Joel?"

May 2003

College finals were the two scariest words one could say to you right now. Luckily for you, you had managed to somehow pass all of them this semester. Yes, you had somehow even managed an 80 on your biology exam, you still weren't quite sure how that happened. Maybe those 3am nights poured over your books did something.

"We should celebrate tonight." Your friend, Amelia suggested from her spot on the couch

"I was thinking about ordering a pizza." You sigh as you try to work out in your mind how much you have in your bank account. Perhaps you even had enough for some wings too.

"Not like that." She scoffs, " I meant we dress up real slutty and hit some bars. Get some guys to buy us drinks."

"I wanted to watch a movie tonight though." You sigh, thinking of the Blockbuster down the road. The second X-Men movie had come out a few weeks ago and you were dying to see Hugh Jackman on your screen again.

"You can spend the rest of your life as a grandma watching movies. You're only hot once." Amelia laughs

"But-"

"No buts. Your tits are gonna be at your waist one day and you'll thank me for this." Amelia declares before skipping off to her room, mumbling about which top she'd wear.

You sigh as you watch her door close. Amelia Caddel hadn't been your first choice for sharing an off campus apartment. Afterall, she was the opposite of you in so many ways. But, Miss Life of the Party had a steady deposit of allowance in her account from mommy and daddy, meaning she never missed rent, an important factor in a roomate.

"Guess you're spending the night alone." You sigh, looking down at your cat, Loki who purred, clearly wanting a treat or perhaps another heaping bowl of kibble.

Amelia fussed with your hair as the two of you entered your first bar.

"How're you going to pick up a guy if he can't even see your eyes?" She laughs

The stuffy air and the loud music, followed by a group of frat boys cheering for someone, reminded you why you never went out.

You watched with a sigh as she sought out the closest mid twenties guy she could wrestle a few drinks out of. You trailed behind, fidgeting with the skimpy black mini dress she had coaxed you into.

You'd have to hand it to Amelia, you certainly looked hot in it.

The feel of a stranger bumping into you and the sharp scent of aftershave filled your nose, and then big hands were wrapping around your waist, keeping you from stumbling.

"Shit sorry, hon." His Texan accent sent a small shiver down your spine.

"It's fine." You mumble, jumping away from the stranger's arms.

"Tommy, let's go! Quit flirtin' with the college girls!"

The man, Tommy, mumbles another apology to you before disappearing further into the bar, in search of whoever called for him.

Joel watched as his younger brother "accidentally" bumped into some silly college girl who seemed out of her element. Joel couldn't lie, it was something his brain might've come up with if he wasn't so damn tired from today's work. When was laying concrete going to get easier?

The younger Miller brother, who hadn't succumbed to back pain just yet, whispered some false apology in the girl's ears as she jumped away from him.

Joel called for him, he couldn't let Tommy terrorize some poor twenty-something girl who looked like a deer in the headlights under his brother's gaze.

"You're getting too old to be after college kids." Joel chastizes as he sits beside Tommy at the bar.

"Oh c'mon." Tommy scoffs as he orders a beer for himself and Joel.

"You're thirty, you're not some mid-twenties loser anymore." Joel points out.

"You're no fun, Joel," Tommy says with a roll of his eyes

Joel wanted to go home. He'd wanted to go home hours ago but Tommy had dragged him out after they finally finished working on their latest project, the new local Subway was nicely constructed by the Miller brothers.

Yet, here he sat, a few hours later, Two and a half beers deep, listening to Tommy try his hand at karaoke. Joel was pretty sure his ears were bleeding as his eyes scanned the bar. Most of the patrons were so drunk, they cheered Tommy on.

Joel found his eyes settling on the girl Tommy had "bumped" into earlier. She was still alone, sat across the room at a high-top table, sipping at some fruity drink. Pretty red heels were linked on the footrest of the barstool and Joel watched as she fumbled with her purse, looking for something with a deep frown across her pretty features.

If Joel didn't have a 13-year-old waiting on him back home, he might have slipped across the bar and sweet talked his way into this girl's arms. But the thought of Sarah back home, watching TV with Mrs. Addler had his ass glued to his barstool.

Instead, he observes as you finally find your phone and make a call. He watches as your features droop in disappointment as you yell over Tommy's singing to whoever was on the other end. Joel watched with a bit of amusement as you nearly fell off the stool when you went to stand up, you must've forgotten you linked those heels onto the footrest.

Joel let out a grumble of disappointment as Tommy launched into the beginning of Don't Stop Believin' by Journey. Why had he been given the world's most annoying little brother?

Joel's eyes turn back to the mystery girl and her delicate red heels just as some frat guy from Alpha Delta- who fuckin' cares, slings an arm around her waist, hand dipping too close to the hem of her skirt for Joel to be comfortable with.

As if he's on autopilot, Joel finds himself crossing the bar in long strides, ready to put a stop to whatever might come next.

"I don't see your friend now." The guy laughs as you shift your weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable.

Joel hears you mumble something about wanting to go home.

"I'll give you a ride."

The guy's sleazy tone has Joel cringing as he approaches. DId anyone teach these kids manners?

"Why don't you give the lady some space?" Joel suggests boldy

Alpha-Delta-Chad turns around to meet Joel's gaze, not releasing you just yet as he scoffs,

"Who the fuck are you? Her dad?"

"Just a concerned stranger." Joel nods to you in greeting, "She doesn't seem too comfortable with you, kid. Give her some room."

"How would you even know old man?" The boy asks, "You're like forty!"

Ouch. Joel was 35. Did he really look 40? Already?

"Let her go," Joel says, his voice deepening a bit

The frat boy's eyes scan Joel's figure. Either he decides you're not worth it, or that he'd lose the fight because before Joel knows it he's letting you go and murmuring another curse at Joel.

"Thank you." You breathe a sigh of relief, and a small smile graces your pretty face as Joel nods.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

The name slips out of Joel's mouth before he can stop it and he watches in amusement as you blink away in embarrassment.

Your eyes roam across his frame and Joel can't quite place the look on your face as you...size him up?

"Could you um...walk me to the bus stop? I'd go myself but I'm worried that guy might be waiting for me outside." You ask

Joel wants to say no. He wants to stay tucked away in the bar, sipping his beer, and hope Tommy accidentally swallows the microphone he's singing into. Yet, one look into your sad, and definitely drunk eyes has him folding.

"Sure, I'll walk ya."

A warm breeze blows through the air as your savior is beside you at the bus stop. He'd insisted on waiting beside you until the bus showed up, saying something about having a daughter back home and it not being right to leave you alone out here.

"So...what's your name?" You ask, your drunk mind disliked silences.

"Joel. Joel Miller." He says, "You?"

You softly say your name, shy under his gaze.

Maybe its the three margaritas but the man next to you is hot. Short brown curly hair with dark eyes to match. Not to mention the splatter of facial hair and mustache he seemed to pull off so effortlessly. He was definitely much older than you, at least over ten years your senior. But, he was attractive in the ways all the college boys in your classes weren't.

Your eyes raked over tanned arms, toned perfectly from whatever he did to get them. You could tell he was sporting a handsome dad bod under the plain blue t-shirt on his frame. You'd never been one for a rippling six-pack, a man who'd eat pizza and ice cream with you was always going to be attractive than one who spent his days drinking protein shakes and eating eggs for "gains". Joel seemed like a guy who'd be into a binge-watch of every Star Wars movie and indulge with you in an impulsive 2am Domino's order.

"Where the hell is this bus at?"

His deep voice had you snapping from your drunken daydream of pizza and dad bods.

"Oh um..."

You're not quite sure where the bus is. Hopefully, it'd show soon. Your legs felt like a newborn deer's, no way would you be able to walk the seven and a half miles back to your apartment like this.

"Joel!"

Another voice has you and your new companion turning your heads. Another man, somehow a bit familiar in your drunk brain is approaching.

"What're you doin' man? You missed my singing."

"I heard enough." Joel huffs in annoyance

Oh, so this was the guy who was badly singing to Brittney Spears and Journey. He looked a bit more familiar though...this was the dude that had bumped into your earlier!

"Now if I'm too old to be goin' after college girls, then you're definitely too old, brother."

"I'm not...Not goin' after anyone. I'm waiting for the bus with her. Some creep was hitting on her at the bar, I'm keeping her safe." Joel groans at this man's comment.

So he wasn't interested? You felt your heart sink a bit. Of course, he wasn't interested. He had a kid for crying out loud.

Oh god, what if he had a wife? Were you daydreaming about a married man?

Your eyes jump to his left hand.

Ringless.

Well, at least you weren't fantasizing about being a homewrecker.

"The bus? It's past midnight. The bus stops running at 11:30." The new guy says, looking at his watch.

"Oh...um. I'll just go then." You say, standing up on unsteady legs. Looks like you're walking. You didn't have the money for a cab, so your legs were just going to have to tough this one out.

"Go? Go where?" Joel's friend scoffs

You ignore him, he's so weird.

"Tommy, stop it." Joel scolds

He sounds like such a dad as you laugh to yourself while smoothing your dress out.

"Do you want us to give you a ride?" Joel asks, standing up next to you

"No, I can manage the walk." You brush him off, trying to ignore the way he's so tall all of a sudden.

You were even wearing heels and he was bigger than you!

"I can call a cab," Joel suggests, watching the way your ankle nearly twists when you take a step.

"I don't have any money for one." You whimper, as the pain in your ankle shoots up your leg.

Fuck these heels. Fuck Amelia for ditching you for another bar. Fuck Joel had his stupid dad bod and tanned skin. Fuck the stupidly attractive mustache on his stupidly attractive face.

This always happened when you were drunk. First, your legs turned into literal Jello and then you'd get all weepy about nothing. At least you'd have seven miles to cry your eyes out. Hopefully, Loki would let you hold him when you got home.

"Let me give you a ride. Do you live on campus?" Joel asks his eyes widening at the tears that dribble down your face.

"I'm just gonna walk." You mumble and bush past him, forcing your legs into an unsteady match.

"That's like...an 8-mile walk," Tommy says from behind you, estimating the distance between here and the college.

"Actually seven and a half." You sass, not interested in his comments or his stupid aftershave that invaded your nose as you walked past him.

You're not entirely sure how you ended up here, in the back seat of a pick up truck while Joel drove you home. You mumbled your address to him and he'd somehow known immediately where you were living.

Hopefully, you weren't going to end up dead in a ditch tonight.

Joel watched as you rested your head against the window. He'd walked you to his truck after you got a few feet away from him before sitting down on the curb, tears running down your pretty face, mumbling something about a cat.

"Fuckin' college girls." Tommy had mumbled as he helped Joel buckle you into your seat

"Let's just get her home," Joel said

"Yeah before she turns the waterworks back on." Tommy sighed

Joel drives towards the shitty apartments they rent to college kids. Two blocks away he had once been working in a fancy new condo building, putting up drywall and laying flooring. There'd been talk about developing your area as well, but six months later the apartments of Oliver Avenue were still as shitty as ever.

Joel guaranteed you were getting ripped off by your landlord. Probably paying too much for someplace that had thin walls and bad heating. Sure enough, he was right, as he parked his trunk in front of a building that badly needed a makeover.

"Stay here." He tells Tommy who seems to be a few moments away from falling asleep in the passenger seat.

Joel pulls you from the backseat, shoving Sarah's soccer ball back under the seat when it rolls out and tries to escape.

"Alright, what floor?" Joel asks as you stand beside him, tears finally dried up.

You wordlessly begin to plod your way up the steps and murmur what sounds like a five to him.

Joel makes sure you get your door open and watches as a black cat greets you as you push the door open.

"Hi, baby." You coo at the cat, scooping him up. "Did you miss me?"

Joel feels his heart speed up as you sweet-talk your pet. He tries to banish the idea of you talking to him like that, carding your hands through his hair, rather than this little black cat with a green collar and golden bell around his neck.

"Thank you, Joel." You say as you spin around to face him

"No problem." He hums, "Glad I was able to help."

You smile at him as your damn cat meows loudly, breaking the trance you had on him.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, Joel."

July 2003

The fourth of July was serious business in Austin. From mega barbeques to fireworks that put Magic Kingdom to shame, your sleepy little college town was transformed for America's birthday.

A much-needed breeze flows through the park as you sit on the blanket you'd found shoved at the back of your closet. Summer was brutal this year, and you were sure that the Texas heat wasn't making the wait for fireworks any easier.

Your parents had invited you back home to Pittsburgh this summer. But, you found yourself more interested in staying put in Austin. Your sleepy suburb town back home would always be there, no sense in spending your summer cooped up in your childhood room. At least here you could go out whenever you wanted.

"Dad, let's go! All the good spots are going to be taken!!"

A young girl's voice drifts across the park as you turn to watch her pull what must be her father along.

"Hold on, Sarah! You're gonna make me drop all this."

"Move faster then!"

Well, shit.

Joel Miller, the savior of drunk college girls, was here in the park, walking towards you.

Your eyes widen as you take him in. At least you know it wasn't just the alcohol talking, Joel Miller was just as devastatingly good-looking now as he was a month and a half ago when he drove you home from the bar.

"H-Hi." You awkwardly stammer as he passes by you, arms full with a small cooler and a big blanket.

"Hello." He says, quickly

The double take he does is almost comical as he looks at you.

"Sarah!" He calls after the girl, "Come back here!"

"Didn't think I'd ever see you again." You smile, standing up from your own spot

"Well, I do live around here." He says with a lopsided smile that makes him look a bit more boyish.

The girl, Sarah, returns to her father's side.

"Hi." She says a bit flatly, clearly annoyed her father has stopped his march across the park to what she had deemed the perfect spot.

"Hello." You greeted her, with a soft smile.

She was so cute, with dark curly hair and black shorts paired with a pretty green and blue t-shirt. Sparkly sandals caught your eye as she stepped a bit closer to Joel, looking up at him for an explanation.

Joel introduces you to her, "I helped her out a month ago, got her home safe."

You're beyond elated he's standing in front of you again. For a little bit you swore he was a hallucination you'd dreamt up in a drunken haze. A handsome Texan man who'd driven you home safely after rescuing you from some sleaze. Amelia had scolded you for hours when she found out you hadn't gotten his number.

"Super safe." You smile at him.

Joel feels a nervous sweat break out on his forehead. Here he was with his daughter ready to watch their fireworks like they always did each year and he was flirting with a girl like he was 17 again. He'd be lying if you weren't on his mind regularly. The way you'd been dressed that night haunted him at night as he lay in bed, your sweet voice filled his ears as he went about his days. He'd wondered if you only used that tone for your cat.

"You two want to sit with me? I'm not sure if these are the best seats in the house but I do have some popcorn I can share..." You trail off, giving a smile to Sarah who enthusiastically agrees at the idea of free food.

Joel settles next to you as Sarah talks your ears off about soccer practices and the pool party Joel took her to a few weeks ago. He watches as you listen intently to his daughter's words. So rarely does a woman he's interested in take time to talk to Sarah. Yet, here you were, in college and interacting with his daughter better than most grown women did.

"So how old are you?"

Joel nudges Sarah with his shoe, doesn't she know that's a rude question? He could've sworn he taught her better.

"I'm 23. 24 this August." You say

"Wow," Sarah says

You turn away for a moment, reaching for the bag of popcorn that sits behind you. Joel's eyes widen as he watches Sarah silently mouth to him,

"She's so old!"

If you were old, did that mean he was ancient? God, how old did his daughter view him as? He could've sworn 35 wasn't that bad. Maybe it was though...

"So, 23. You're graduating soon then, yeah?" Joel asked

"I wish." You sigh, "I took a gap year after high school, and then just couldn't find the right major for a bit. I'm technically on track to become a Physician Assistant but I dunno if it's right for me."

Joel nods, he knows the feeling, not knowing if what you're doing is right. He'd felt that way when Sarah was born, and then when her mother left them, and then every time Sarah was hurt or crying, or just not perfectly happy, Joel felt that way, unsure of himself.

"You'd make a great PA, Sweetheart." Joel genuinely says, placing a hand over yours

"Thanks." You say a bit flustered at the physical contact.

"Gross," Sarah comments at what's unfolding before her eyes.

"You're gross." Joel counters, not missing a beat to tease her.

Sarah sticks her tongue out at him in retaliation, and Joel does the same.

You spend the rest of your summer with the Millers. In between public pool trips, and catching fireflies in the backyard, you somehow end up entangled with Joel. Staying up on the couch beside him, watching movie after movie when Sarah drifted off into dreamland up in her bed.

Before you know it, Joel is picking you up for dates and meeting you at coffee shops to let you talk his ears off about whatever book you've picked up for the week.

You let Joel take your virginity on a humid August night. After sending Sarah off to her friend's house you let him pull you into his room and under the sheets.

Breathless and sweaty you rest your head on his chest.

"You okay?" Joel asks quietly, running a hand up and down your back

"Mmhm." You sigh dreamily

"Didn't hurt you or nothin'?" He asks

"I'm okay, Joel." You laugh

"Just checking." He mumbles

Joel looks a bit out of place as he sits on your couch. Sarah had a week of soccer camp and the two of you decided to spend it together. Loki jumps up on the cushion beside Joel and lets out a loud meow.

"Pet him." You suggest with a shrug

"He doesn't even like me." Joel huffs staring into your cats eyes

"You nearly sat on him the first time you were here." You remind Joel of his previous crime from a week ago.

"I thought he was a throw pillow." Joel defends himself, motioning to the many pillows you and Amelia had scattered around the apartment.

"You thought I had a green-eyed pillow that meowed?"

"I dunno what you women are into, you're all so confusing."

You let out a scoff before plopping down on the couch next to him, Loki climbing into your lap and purring as you scratch behind his ears.

"The only confusing one here is you, Joel Miller."

Tommy isn't as bad as you thought he was.

Scratch that, he's fantastic, pulling out old photos of Joel from over the years. You nearly piss yourself though when he whips out an old family album. A nine-year-old Joel stares back at you as you look at an old photo of him playing tee-ball.

"Look how cute you were!" You gasp as you run your fingers across the photograph

"Joel Miller, star tee-ball player!" Tommy teases his big brother.

You smile as you watch Joel's face turn red as you take in even more photographs of him as a kid, you even see his 10th-grade photo, yes the one where he has braces and the worst case of acne known to mankind.

By the time the Texas heat begins to ease off and the leaves begin to change colors, you're head over heels in love with Joel Miller. From the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, to the way he'd dance with you in the dead of the night while the refrigerator door hung open, the light reflecting off your bodies as you laughed in his arms.

Three months, such a short time, and yet so much had happened. You tried to focus on the Anatomy lesson your professor was talking about in front of you yet you found your mind occupied with something else. It was as if you had been possessed, nothing but Joel filled your mind as you scribbled your notes onto your notebook. Anatomy class be damned, you were going to go mad thinking of him like this.

Your birthday, August 29th rolled around faster than you thought it would. You hadn't seen Joel all week. Between your classes, Sarah's soccer and school, and Joel's contracting, you had only time to talk to him briefly on the phone.

You had reached out to Joel earlier today to invite him to a small birthday party Amelia had insisted on. Nothing special, just some pizza and cupcakes, a cheap beer or two.

But now, it was going on 10:30 and Joel was nothing but a whisper in the wind. Sadness weighed on your chest as you watched the front door, hoping for a knock that would signal his arrival.

"Hey...I think we should just go to bed..."Amelia suggests softly from her spot next to you.

"No, he's coming." You mumble sadly tears tickling your waterline,

You stare at the last cupcake that sits on the coffee table. It was meant to be for Joel. You had scooped it out of the box thinking about how nice the icing looked on it. You had wanted him to have the best one in the box, even if that meant your own was a little lopsided and missing sprinkles.

Amelia pulls you into her side, letting you rest your head on her shoulder. She gently wraps her arm around you and quietly says,

"It's supposed to be fun, turning 24..."

September 2003

Three days pass before you hear from Joel again. His voice on the other end of the phone call is paralyzing as your world comes crashing down. The phone beeps as the call ends and you stand at your kitchen counter in shock, shocked that he's ending it all like this, with a phone call.

"If we had been closer in age, maybe it would've been fine."

His words bounce around in your mind as you slam your phone down on the counter. Loki jumps from his spot on the windowsill meowing as you cross the room quickly.

You pulled your covers over your head, blocking out the world as you heard Amelia return from her ethics class.

"If we had been closer in age, maybe it would've been fine."

God, that made you want to die. What did he even think of you? That you were some wide-eyed college kid who just existed in limbo for him?

You spend the next week in bed, plagued with tears and anger as you curse Joel out at least 1000 times a day. The knock at your door and Amelia entering your room with a box has you startled.

"What's this?" You sniff

"UPS guy just left it at our front door." She says before setting it on the bed and leaving you again.

You cut the box open and find your things inside it. Little things you'd left at Joel's over the summer. Hair ties, a brush, deodorant, t-shirts, and sweaters, even a photograph of you, Sarah, and him at the aquarium is nestled between the pages of a book you kept on his nightstand to read to him before the two of you dozed off. The box holds your entire relationship as you dump it out on your bed.

The scent of Joel, masculine and inviting clings to your belongings just like the way it clings to your heart.

Your hands shift through the items again, the scarf you wore to Tommy's house is missing. You had left it there and Joel had promised to return it to you.

"Who wears a scarf in Texas?" Joel snorts

"I do! And you better give it back, Miller." You groan

"I'll get it to you, sweetheart. Don't worry about it."

You wonder what has become of your scarf now. Perhaps it's sitting in a drawer in his room, nestled among his belongings, looking horribly out of place. Or maybe it's stuck in his truck, shoved under the seats under the pretense that it would make its way back to you one day.

You wonder what has become of Joel now. Perhaps he's lying in his own bed right now, thinking of you, your scarf wrapped around his hands, smelling of you and all his failures.

You wonder if this love affair bruised him the way it did you.

God, you had so many regrets.

December 2003

Cold air fills your lungs as your feet ache beneath you. Snow gently fell down as you sighed quietly. The walk into your hometown was no joke. The shitty beater car you'd stolen had died about 50 miles ago, leaving you vulnerable and scared.

Loki meowed from his crate as you quietly walked along. You shushed him and dropped a few treats behind the bars of the crate. He was going to need food soon if you intended to stay alive, your traveling companion wasn't known for holding his tongue when it came to hunger. The last thing you needed was to have an infected try to kill you because of your pet.

It had been nearly 5 days on the road now. and You'd managed to drive from Austin to Pittsburgh all on your own armed with a shotgun and a map you'd found in the glove compartment.

The past few months had been spent in Joel's basement. After things started going south outside your apartment building, you stuffed Loki into his carrier and filled a two big duffle bags with food and clothes for you and supplies for your cat before managing to somehow sneak into the parking deck and jump into your car. Amelia had never returned from her boyfriends house that night. You knew you couldn't go looking for her though, his home was nearly 25 miles away while Joel's was only 10.

It was mid-morning on September 27th when you reached Joel's place. The other neighborhood homes were empty and you nearly threw up at the sight of Mrs. Adler's mother lying face down on the driveway.

Your heart sinks when you discover Joel and Sarah are already gone. You hadn't expected them to be here yet, a part of you had hoped they'd be. It was Joel's birthday yesterday, you wondered how he'd spent his last normal day. Knowing him, he'd probably been at work all day.

You barricade the doors before slipping into the basement. Joel had spent time finishing it so it was nice for Sarah's sleepovers. You let Loki out before returning upstairs to bring down every nonperishable food item the home had to offer.

And so, there you sat with your cat, in your ex's basement, willing for him to magically appear and tell you everything was going to be okay.

March 2017

The Pittsburgh QZ was fucked. Royally fucked. The loud explosion from some truck filled your ears as you zipped your backpack shut. Loki let out a meow of protest as he disappeared in your bag. He was nearly 15 and his attitude about backpack travel wasn't improving.

You stick to the back alleys as you work towards finding an out. A decent-sized hole in a fence catches your eye and you take your chances, better than getting blown up by the Fireflies or FEDRA.

You're about 4 miles away from the carnage when a sizeable group catches your eye. They must've gotten out just like you.

A man, David, shares a can of flavorless chili with you and you sit on the ground beside him. But, the more you listen to him talk, you can't help but think he's a total nutcase. You thank him for the chili and the 8 cans of chicken noodle soup he's shared with you and decline his offer to join the group.

"We have so much to offer." He says in a soft voice, gesturing to the people scattered around eating and talking amongst themselves.

"I'll stick to just him, thanks though." You say petting Loki's head as you pull him from your backpack to place the cans of food inside.

"Suit yourself."

April 2017

You had dozed off. A rookie mistake to make in the apocalypse.

They had been on you before you knew what was happening. With nothing but a knife to your name to protect yourself, you were hopelessly outgunned.

"Look at what we have here." A deep voice booms, "A girl wondering in my woods, must be my lucky day."

A smelly man stands in front of you, and about 8 other men are circled around you. You squeeze your eyes shut as he lets a dirty finger trail over your face.

"How pretty."

A loud hiss cuts his next sentence. Loki, you brave boy, has climbed out of your backpack where he had been taking a nap. His back has hunched up and you don't miss the way his dark black fur is bristling in the low light of the sun disappearing behind the trees.

You aren't even able to try to arrange a deal for your baby as the man pulls a large knife from his belt and carelessly throws it at your cat.

A horrible screech from Loki fills your ears as the man coos at you and tells you it'll all be okay.

"We've got dinner boys!" The man who has killed your only friend in the whole world exclaims.

Your eyes slam shut as red blood begins to seep into the fabric of your backpack. The man says something about being a provider but you're too focused on choking back the tears that are forming in your eyes.

Hours later, you're tied to a tree stump, your arms behind your back. Your captors present you with a warm soup of sorts. Canned carrots and potatoes float in a clear broth but it's what sits in the center of the bowl that turns your stomach. What's left of your Loki is now being devoured by the men.

You can't do it. You had been starving, unable to catch anything for days. but you can't do it.

"Fine, don't eat." The leader and cat killer huffs as he runs his hands across your chest in an unpleasant matter, "You're going to wish you had though when we're done with you."

June 2017

The moon is your only light as you steal away into the night. Your heart is pounding but you can't or rather won't look back.

Your escape is credited to a man named Adam. He had always been softer to you than the rest. Less brutal than the others when he bent you over a tree stump and forced himself into your unwilling body, cooing in your ears about how good you felt even though you were dry.

Softer and easy to fool when you batted your eyelashes at him so he'd give you a second serving of the deer they'd killed. Gentle when he cleaned whatever wounds the others inflicted on you for their sick pleasure.

Tonight, you had used his softness against him. Crying and whimpering when he tied you to a tree, saying the restraints were too tight. He'd of course taken pity on you and loosened them before kissing your forehead and walking off to sleep.

It had been easy to slip out of the ropes thanks to Adam. You stole his backpack and stuffed it with as much deer jerky as you could get your hands on before snatching a gun off Adam's unknowing form.

Now, you were stumbling through the night, hoping to put as much distance between you and the men as possible.

Nearly three weeks had passed and you were still somehow free. The men hadn't found you and you were deep into the wilderness. Your freedom was something you had yearned for since the moment Loki had died. Yet, here you were, starving and wasting away because you couldn't kill anything to eat.

You drag your body into an old concrete building that was being used to control some form of dam. You rested your head on your backpack, thinking of how far you'd come.

Strangely though, you thought of your past. Fuzzy images of a college classroom came into your brain. Amelia's long blonde hair and the way she'd style it perfectly each day. Texas summers, filled with heat and perfectly seasoned barbeque.

What you wouldn't do for a big plate of ribs right now.

And then the curly hair of a little girl is dancing around your mind. Her warm laughter fills your mind as you think of Sarah Miller. With her sparkle filled sandals and her strange interest in gore filled horror films. You wondered if she was still out there somewhere. Perhaps stuck in some QZ with Joel.

Joel.

You think about Joel. You're sure you've thought of him more in the past three months than you did your whole relationship. Every night when one of your captors, or sometimes multiples had you every which way, you'd try to think about other things. Those other things often divulged into Joel and how gentle he'd been with you. Oh, how you missed his warm arms and soft southern twang. Hou you yearned for him even now. Your only real relationship experience was something you just couldn't let go.

When you were finally found by Maria, you were nearly ready for death. Brain filled with delusional thoughts of the past and starving, she had hoisted you up on her horse and rode off to Jackson, praying this mystery woman wouldn't die on the way there.

Winter 2023

You nearly fall over when his tired eyes meet yours. The loud voice of a young girl fills your ears.

"Do you two know each other?"

You push the stable door open to get a better look at the man who stands before you. For so many years you had pictured the man you dated for a few months, not trying to imagine the way the end of the world might've changed him. Your mind can't reconcile the Joel you once knew and the one before you.

For starters, he looks so tired. Graying curly hair sits atop his head, a salt and pepper beard adorns his face. Even his frame has changed, the winter coat he wears hides it but you can tell he's become riddled with muscle to take on the harsh outside world. The only thing that seems the same is his mustache, somehow untouched by time.

"Joel, wait up! There's something I gotta tell ya!"

Tommy's loud voice carries from wherever he is and you want to laugh at the younger Miller brother. Of course, he was going to try to intercept your meeting. Too bad he was too slow.

"Joel? Hello? Do you know her?" The girl asks again.

You glance at her, she can't be more than 14 or 15. Her pale skin is rosy against the cold Wyoming winter. She looks at you, probably for an answer since all Joel is doing is staring at you, most likely in shock.

Eventually, though, the man of the hour opens his mouth to speak,

"No, I don't know her."

This is my first time writing for Joel, hope you enjoyed :)

Next Part

Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter, I carry the tags over to each part.

Tags:

@lunaticgurly @orcasoul

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #sarah miller #ellie williams #tommy miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #fanfic #joel tlou #joel miller x you

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myownwholewildworld · 5 months ago

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wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 1

series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 2

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader.

summary: it’s september 29th, 2003, and joel cannot wrap his head around the fact that sarah is truly gone. as he’s about to put an end to his own suffering…

warnings: mdni. suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, deathwish. loss of a daughter / family members. please do NOT read if this is triggering for you. swear words. reader is female, no description given. no mention of age. no use of y/n.

a/n: this is my very first attempt at writing tlou fan fiction. please be nice >: one-shot (maybe?). mainly joel’s pov but then changes to reader’s pov. this is by no means lore-accurate. also this is my interpretation of how joel lost his hearing in his right ear and got the scar on his right temple ― he did imply he tried to end his life after sarah’s death so this is how i imagine it happened. finally, this is not proofread and english is not my mother tongue, so please excuse any mistakes you might spot. enjoy! (or not? cry with me pls).

w/c: ~1.3k.

Had life been any different, Joel would probably not be in this position.

He had lost everything he held dear. His very reason for living. He could not wrap his head around the fact that Sarah was gone. Truly gone. He could still feel the mud under his fingernails ― his vain attempt to undo the work Tommy had put into digging Sarah’s grave.

It still felt unreal. His baby girl was six feet under, just a few yards away from him. But in his mind, he was still hugging her closely against his chest, feeling her warmth. Tommy had tried to console him, but there were no words in any human language that could sooth his broken heart, so his brother left to run the perimeter and give him some space.

The last few days were like a whirlpool of pain and tears ― agony filling up his lungs, constricting his throat. Joel could not remember the last time he had cried, but he had done so many times in the last seventy-two hours. He could not contain his own emotion any longer. Such torment was too overwhelming. A father was not supposed to bury his own daughter.

It was thanks to his brother that he had been able to put his Sarah to rest. After hell broke loose in Austin and that damn official had shot at them, Joel could not bring himself to recall what had happened afterwards. From what Tommy had told him, they ran for as long as they could ― Joel still holding onto Sarah’s lifeless body. His brother was able to secure a vehicle and they drove out of the city to avoid any more unwanted encounters.

That was how they got to Sam Houston National Forest. Under normal circumstances, they would have gotten there in under three hours, but it took them almost three days. Sarah loved that nature reserve. They would vacation nearby in the summertime when Joel’s schedule was clear of contracting jobs. Sarah, always full of life, would push her dad down the hiking trail, giggling, teasing him and his old knees.

Paralysed by fear, pain and guilt, Joel had only been able to watch as Tommy put a shovel to the ground and started digging. He only snapped out of his stupor when his brother murmured something as he kneeled before him to take Sarah away from his arms. Joel could not comprehend what Tommy was doing until the younger Miller put Sarah in the hole. That was when he had completely lost it.

It had been hours and Joel had not moved yet. His back against a pine tree, hands on his lap. His eyes fixated on his daughter’s tomb. Tommy had fashioned a cross with wood branches to mark the grave, wildflowers surrounding it despite being September. The contrast between the blooming wildlife and Sarah’s burial pit was gut-wrenching. So much that Joel had to close his eyes to stop them from watering once more.

Tommy had assured him this dreadful feeling would lessen with time ― maybe even go away. Joel had just looked at him blankly in disbelief. He very much doubted it. There was no way he could feel his heart beating again when it had been ripped out of his chest. Emptiness eating him up, nothingness taking over his soul, dread engulfing his senses. There was no coming back from this.

Truthfully, he could not see the point anymore. The world was ending anyway, why postpone the inevitable? Joel was sure that he would only burden Tommy ― in this state of mind, he was not going to be able to protect anyone, let alone his brother. In fact, he would just guide him to his death, the same way he had led Sarah to hers.

Joel opened his eyes and looked down. Tommy had left a gun on the ground to his right while he patrolled the surrounding area, in case he was interrupted and in need of protecting himself. What he was thinking about doing could be considered as “protecting himself” ― from his own thoughts, his own breathtaking pain.

His right hand wrapped around the grip of the gun while his index finger slid towards the trigger. As Joel put the gun to his right temple, his eyes locked on the makeshift wooden cross. He hoped he could be reunited with Sarah in Heaven, God knew he had tried his best in this life and had still failed. It was not enough. He was not enough.

Joel took a deep breath, eyes closed, and pulled the trigger.

Houston was in shambles. You just barely escaped that godforsaken city and made it to the closest nature reserve you could think of. It was the best idea, you thought, as people would be scarce in the midst of nature. So, you walked and walked, until you came across two men who had set up camp off the main trail. You kept to the shadows, not knowing if you should trust them or not.

The youngest one left a few minutes after your arrival, so you adjusted your position in order to not be seen. From there, you could have a better look at the older guy, who seemed rather defeated, sat on the ground, his back resting against a tree. His eyes bare, his face completely blank. You assumed his crushed expression was because of the events of the last few days.

Or, at least, that was what you thought until you spotted the improvised grave in front of him.

Tears welled up, gathering at the rims of your eyelids. You knew that feeling damn too well. Not only the outbreak, but life had also taken some very important people from you. The feeling of loss ― you perfectly understood how hard it could hit.

But you could not reminisce about old times, not now, when your own life was hanging by a thread. You were alone in this world, and you knew how fucking dangerous that would be for a woman. Human nature scared you more than some goddamn virus.

So you were lingering. You saw those two men, and you pondered your options. Something was telling you that you could trust them ― if you could trust anyone while the world was ending.

You came closer, making sure you did not make a noise. That was when you saw the raw emotion painted on his worn-out face. There was something about him that drew you in. His gloomy look spoke of hurt, but also danger.

And then you also saw his hand holding a gun to his temple.

You just acted ― without any concern for your own safety.

“NO!”, a painful shriek left your mouth as you ran towards him, your knees skidding through the dirt as you stopped by his side.

You wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, trying to pull the gun away from him, when the shot went off with a loud bang. It grazed the skin on his temple and blood started to pool on the fresh wound.

“Oh, shit”, you said breathlessly, pressing the palm of your hand against the gash to stop the bleeding.

His brown eyes focused on you, a mixture of shock and disappointment.

After what felt like an eternity losing yourself in those irises, he mumbled:

“Why?”

You tried to talk, but the words would not leave your tongue.

“I…”, you started to explain yourself, but was quickly interrupted.

“What the heck was that?!”

You looked up and spotted the second man, the one you saw walking away a few minutes earlier, running towards you ― rifle on hand, pointing at you.

Blood rushed out of your face. Was that how you were going to die after all?

“Tommy, wait―”

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morganwrites12672 · 3 months ago

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2003 - Twenty-One Years Old

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean shows up at your doorstep after Sam leaves for Stanford. His emotions are at an all time high, this leads to a confession.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Enjoy! Here's the link to the rest of the series: 𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤.

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Her life had changed after that day.

She had deleted Dean's phone number. Everytime John Winchester stopped by her father's house she found a way to be gone. Whether it was doing a grocery run even though she'd went the previous night or faking a cold. She couldn't bear to see Dean again.

The thought of him still made her chest ache. She had left that motel with tears in her eyes and never looked back. It had broken her heart to leave like that. It'd left a hole in her chest that she couldn't fill with anything, no matter how much she tried. It might have been three years but the pain was still raw every time she thought of him.

It was impossible for it to not hurt. Dean had been her first love. Well, that and her first heart break. She didn't live remembering how everything had went down in the end. Being special to someone had seemed like such a good thing. Until she discovered that she hadn't been as special as she had thought to Dean. He might not have actually cheated on her, but knowing that his eyes went to every other girl still hurt.

A lot had changed since then. She was older and wiser. She had grown up a lot from the socially awkward mess she had been whenever she had been with Dean. Growing up so isolated from healthy friendships where people knew her real name had definitely stunted her emotional growth. Not anymore. She'd done some growing up since she's turned eighteen. She'd had three years of freedom as a legal adult.

She might still live with her father but she didn't stay home all of the time. Hell, she even worked cases on her own sometimes. Sweet, sweet freedom. It felt great. She wasn't just some little kid anymore, no. She was a hunter. Saving people and hunting the things that go bump in the night felt good.

A knock on the front door jolted her out of her thoughts. Her father wouldn't be back from his hunt for a few more days, he'd called her to tell her that this morning. She couldn't think of anyone who would show up without an explanation, not this late. Gladys would have fallen asleep hours ago.

She peeked through the window and her heart caught in her throat. She could see the all too familiar Impala parked in the driveway. Pulling the door open she was greeted with the sight of someone who was all too familiar to her. What was Dean doing here? And why so late? Those questions and many more raced through her head.

"Dean?" She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She took in how he looked now... damn good, like always. It was startling to notice the dried up tear tracks that currently stained his cheeks. She knew that she should say something, start the conversation. Maybe even ask if he was okay. And yet, she couldn't. Any other words that she might have said got stuck in her throat.

Dean looked at her, he was staring really. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She looked just as perfect as she had the day that she'd left after that stupid argument. Dean had many regrets about letting her leave. But, he had been young and stupid. It had been three years. He had grown up a little bit since then.

"S-sammy left." His voice was hoarse, she could hear the strain in it as Dean tried to keep so many of the emotions he felt inside.

His words made her eyebrows furrow. She had many questions. They would all be able to wait a little bit though. She assumed that the younger Winchester brother had gotten tired of dealing with his father's shitty attitude and left. Not that she blamed him, not in the slightest.

She has gotten lucky with how kind her father had been growing up. Bobby had raised her well and had done the best he could. She still chose to stay there whenever she wasn't out hunting. He had never done anything serious that warranted her being upset enough to leave.

"Come inside," She said, stepping away so that Dean could walk inside.

She didn't have to worry about having to explain any of this to her father. Bobby wouldn't be home for a few more days. His hunt was at a convenient time. So was her week off. Any other week and the chance of it only being her father up at the house would have been fairly high. As he aged the older man went out on hunts less and less. She had began taking up more of them. Bobby was getting too old to spend all of his time out ganking monsters.

Dean silently walked into the house. He had been here recently. Whenever she wasn't home he stopped by to see Bobby. The older man was almost like a father to him. Actually, there was no almost to it. Bobby had been more of a father to him than his own father had been. John hadn't been the greatest guy. Not by a longshot.

"Thanks," Dean said, clearing his throat.

"Do you want a beer? Or something stronger?" She asked as she shut the front door. She had a feeling that Dean would opt for the second option. He looked like he could use a glass of whiskey right now.

"Something stronger," He replied quickly. "If you don't mind," He added after a second.

She nodded, disappearing from Dean's view as she walked into the kitchen. He had missed everything about her. The way she smiled, the sound of her voice after a long day, everything. Dean had loved her. Since he'd lost her he had tried filling the gaping hole in his chest with countless other woman. It hadn't worked, not even close. Sometimes he would be able to forget her in a night. Every morning after he remembered her though. It was impossible to get her out of his head.

In the kitchen she poured Dean a glass of whiskey and grabbed a beer for herself. She was not willing to be drinking something so strong right now. She planned on being as sober as possible tonight. She needed to remember as much of it as she could clearly. It wasn't often that she saw Dean. And, she wasn't sure how tonight was going to go.

Walking into the living room, she spotted Dean. He was lounging on the love seat, leg anxiously bouncing. It wouldn't have taken a psychologist to realize how upset he was over Sam leaving. She still had so many questions for her ex-lover. Something big must have happened whenever Sam left. Why else would Dean be a goddamn mess?

"Why'd he leave?" She asked softly, her voice smooth like marble as she spoke in that honey sweet tone of hers. She set the whiskey down in front of Dean, on the coffee table. She then sat down next to him.

The sound of her voice had Dean already feeling an ache in his chest. He missed her more than he would ever admit, to anyone. The thought of having a chance with her again was the only thing preventing him from crying anymore. He'd done enough of that on the drive over here. Now, he would handle things. Well, he would tell her about things. He wasn't in the mood to deal with his own emotions about the matter.

Dean picked up the glass of whiskey and downed half of it in one gulp. The amber liquid burned his throat as he swallowed. He welcomed the feeling with open arms. He needed something to help drown out his misery. He didn't think that he would be able to explain everything completely sober.

"He got into Stanford." Saying the words out loud made it feel even worse. "Dad was pissed. I've never seen him this mad."

She placed a hand on his knee. His words made her feel horrible. She knew all about how bad John's temper could be on what was considered a good day. Just imaging how horrible he must have treated his sons during that argument made her feel sick. She wanted nothing more than to wrap Dean up in her arms and tell him that everything would be okay. But, she couldn't. He wasn't hers anymore.

"You can stay here for the night," She said, unsure of what else to say. She couldn't say anything that would make this feel better. She could only try and help ease the pain Dean was in over all of this.

She scooted over on the couch, her thigh brushing up against Dean's. He melted into her touch as she pulled him into a hug. His head rested on the expanse of soft skin between her neck and shoulder. He could finally relax. He sighed, feeling the stress and emotional turmoil melt away in her arms.

For a minute he could pretend that everything was okay. For a minute, he believed that. He didn't have to think about everything that John had screamed as Sam had told his father about leaving for Stanford. He didn't have to think about his father or Sam at all. He could just be with her, and enjoy the comfort.

"You're going to be okay," She murmured, running her fingers through his short hair.

"Thank you," Dean whispered, his voice thick with unsaid words.

"You don't need to thank me," She replied.

Dean sniffled, clearing his throat. He sat up, trying to find the words to say. It had always been easy for him to speak with her in the last. The words had seemed to flow naturally, there was no walking on eggshells around her. She understood him and had loved him for who he was, flaws and all.

"No, not just for this. For everything," He said in a quiet voice. He missed her. Even if he didn't expect anything from her, he needed her to know. He needed her to know that she hadn't just been some fling to him. She had been his everything for a long while. She still was.

Her mouth went dry. Any words that she might have said caught in her throat. She hadn't been expecting the night to end this way. Whenever she woke up this morning she never in a million years would have predicted that this would happen, hell, she wouldn't have even thought that dean would show up let alone say something like that.

She wasn't the next one who spoke, Dean was.

"I've missed you. I-I know I screwed up."

His words shocked her even more. She might still love him, might, but that didn't mean that she could handle a relationship with him again. Well, it's not like she has a list of guys who she would rather be with. If she was being honest with herself then there was only one guy she could see herself with, and that guy was sitting across from her and asking for a second chance.

Dozens of replies went through her head. Not being able to find the words to speak made her use actions instead. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his.

Dean went still for a single second before reacting. One of his hands went to her waist as the other one could her jaw. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding past her lips. Words couldn't describe the amount of emotion and heart ache that they both poured into the kiss.

The only thing that seemed to exist right now to them was each other. One of her hands slid around Dean's shoulders, wrapping herself around him. She sighed into the kiss as Dean lightly nipped at her lip. She pulled away for a quick breath, gazing into his eyes. Being without him had been hell. She needed him as much as she needed oxygen.

"I missed you too."

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A/N: I think this is the last part for a little bit! Don't forget to reblog or comment if you enjoyed it!

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