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ryin-silverfish · 8 months ago

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A Guide to the Chinese Underworld (and what it isn't)

As many FSYY and fox posts as there were on my blog, I am actually a huge fan of the Chinese Underworld mythos. Mostly because I was once a morbid little kid that loved reading about the excavations of ancient tombs, and found the statues depicting hellish torture in the Haw Par Villa "super cool".

Apart from the aesthetics, the history of its evolution is also fascinating. Most of us, Chinese or not, only know the most popular version of the Underworld——the "Ten Kings" system, yet that isn't always the case. So today, I'll start off with a short summary of that.

In pre-Qin era, there was already this generic idea of a "Realm of the Dead" called the Yellow Spring, Youdu, or Youming, but we know very little about it.

Then, in the Han dynasty, two ideas start to emerge: 1) the Underworld is a bureaucracy, 2) the God of Mt. Tai ruled over the dead.

This early bureaucracy might not function as an agent of punishment; the main focus was on keeping the dead segregated from the living so they wouldn't bring diseases and misfortune to the latter, as well as using those ghosts to enforce collective punishments upon people for their lineage's wrongdoings while they were still alive.

Post-Han, after Buddhism entered China and took root, its idea of karmic punishments and reincarnation and the figure of King Yama was merged with folk and Daoist ideas of the Underworld bureaucracy, and, came Tang dynasty, resulted in the "Ten Kings" system that first appeared in Dunhuang manuscripts.

It was very rudimentary and far from well-established, as seen in Tang legends, with some adopting the Ten Kings system, some sticking to the Lord of Mt. Tai and some favoring King Yama, and overall little agreements on who's in charge of the Underworld.

But the "Ten Kings" system would become the mainstream version from then onwards, used in Ming vernacular novels and made even more popular by folk religion scrolls like the Jade Records (Yuli Baochao).

As such, most points in the following sections will be based on the fully matured "Ten Kings" system of the Underworld, as seen in the Jade Records and JTTW.

What happens when you die?

(This is a fictionalized walkthrough of the posthumous fate of souls under the "Ten Kings" system. I try to stick to the very broad progression outlined in the Jade Records, but many creative liberties are taken on the details.)

Let's say there's a guy named Xiao Ming, and he had just died of a heart attack. Bummers. What now?

Well, the first thing he saw would be the ghost cops.

There isn't really an unanimous agreement on who these ghost cops are: they may be a pair of ghosts in white and black robes, wearing tall hats (Heibai Wuchang), they may have the heads of farm animals (Ox-Head and Horse-Face), or they can just be generic ghost bureaucrats. For convenience's sake, let's say it was the first scenario.

"Who are you guys and where are you taking me?"

"Glad you asked!" The taller ghost cop, being the cheerful one of the pair, replied. It wasn't very reassuring, considering that his tongue was dangling out of his mouth way further than it should. "I'm the White Impermanence, my sour-looking colleague here is the Black Impermanence, and we are taking you to the City God's office."

This City God, a.k.a. Chenghuang, is just like how it sounds: the divine guardian of a city, who also pulls double duty as the head of the local Dead People Customs Office. They are usually virtuous officials deified posthumously, and in JTTW, they fall under the category of "Ghostly immortals", together with the Earth Gods a.k.a. Tudi.

So Xiao Ming went with the two ghost cops——not like he had much of a choice, made his way through the long queue at the City God's office, and was now standing in front of a gruff old magistrate in traditional robes.

"Name?"

"Wang Xiao Ming."

"Age and birth dates?"

"21, April 16 2003…"

After he was done asking questions, the City God flipped through his ledger, then picked up a brush, ticked off Xiao Ming's name, and told him to go get his pass in the next room. More waiting in a queue. Wonderful.

"I never heard anything about needing a pass to get to the Underworld," the girl in front of Xiao Ming asked the ghost cops, who were standing guard nearby. "Is this a new policy or something?"

"Yeah. In the old days, we'd just drag y'all straight to the Ghost Gate." The ghost cop in black said, then muttered to himself, "Fuckin' paperworks and overpopulation, man…"

(This "Dead People Passport" thing was popularized in the middle-to-late Ming dynasty, as shown by the discovery of such documents inside tombs in southern China. )

(It might have evolved from similar passes to the Western Pure Land in lay Buddhism that recorded their acts of merits. Which, in turn, might be traced back to the "Dead People Belongings List" of Han dynasty, to be shown to Underworld bureaucrats so that no one would take away the dead's private property down there or something.)

Anyways, after he received his pass, Xiao Ming departed together with the rest of the bunch, to be led to the Ghost Gate. It was like the world's most depressing tourist group, where instead of tour guides, you got two ghost cops in funny hats, and the only scenery in sight was the desolation of the Yellow Spring Road.

They weren't the only travellers on the road, though. Xiao Ming noticed other groups moving in the far distance, behind the fog and the flickering ghostfire, led by similar figures in black and white.

It made a lot of sense; realistically, there was no way two ghost cops could fetch hundreds of thousands of dead people all by themselves.

(SEA Tang-ki mediums believed there were multiple Tua Di Ya Peks——Hokkien name for the Black and White Impermanences, working for different Underworld Courts.)

At last, the Ghost Gate stood in front of Xiao Ming, guarded by two towering figures. Normally, they'd be Ox-Head and Horse-Face, like what you see at Haw Par Villa's Underworld entrance.

However, older Han dynasty works like Wang Chong's 论衡·订鬼 also mentioned two gods, Shenshu and Yulei, as guardians of the Ghost Gate, who would use reed ropes to capture malicious ghosts and feed them to tigers, making them possibly the earliest incarnation of "Gate Gods".

So here, they were what Xiao Ming sees, standing side by side like proper doormen, silently watching herds of ghosts being funneled through the entrance.

The place was more crowded than a train station during the CNY Spring Rush; the ghost cops had already said their quick goodbye and left to fetch the next group of dead people, leaving the resident officials of the Underworld proper to maintain order and quell any would-be riots.

Now you started seeing the Ox-Head and Horse-Face guys, poking at unruly ghosts with their pitchforks and dragging away the violent ones in chains. Among their ranks were other monstrous beings, blue-faced yakshas and imps, but also regular dead humans who look 100% done with their jobs, like the lady who stamped Xiao Ming's pass when it was finally his turn.

After this point, Xiao Ming had entered the Underworld proper, and his next destination would be the First Court, led by King Qin'guang. Here, his fate should be decided by what is revealed in the King's magical mirror.

If Xiao Ming was a good guy, or someone who had done an equal amount of good and bad things in life, he'd be sent straight to the Tenth Court for reincarnation. However, if the mirror, while replaying his life events, had displayed more evil deeds than good ones, he'd be sent to one of the 2nd-9th Courts for judgment and then punished inside the Eighteen Hells.

Each of the Ten Kings was also assisted by ghostly judges. Many of them were righteous and just officials in life who had been recruited into the Ten Courts posthumously——Cui Jue from JTTW is one such example, while others were living people working part-time for the Underworld, like how Wei Zheng, Taizong's minister, works part-time for the Celestial Bureaucracy in JTTW.

We decide to be nice to Xiao Ming, so, after reliving some embarrassing childhood incidents and cringy teenage phases in front of a bunch of dead bureaucrats, he was found innocent and sent to the Tenth Court.

The queue here was almost as long as the First Court's, stretching on and on alongside of the banks of the Nai River. King of the Turning Wheel made his judgment without even lifting his head when it was Xiao Ming's turn:

"Path of Humans, male, healthy in body and mind, ordinary family. Next!"

Exiting the Tenth Court building, Xiao Ming saw the Terrace of Forgetfulness, standing tall before six bridges, made of gold, silver, jade, stone, wood, and…some unidentified material. Before he could get a good look at them and the little dots moving across those bridges, he was hurried into the Terrace by the ghostly officials.

Now, both JTTW and the Jade Records mention multiple bridges across the Nai River. In the former, there is 3, and the latter, 6. The bridges made of precious materials are for people who will reincarnate into better lives, as the wealthy, the fortunate, and the divine, while the Naihe Bridge is either the common option or the terribad shitty option.

However, the Naihe Bridge proved to be so iconic, it became THE bridge you walk across to reincarnate in popular legends.

Anyways, back to Xiao Ming. He found himself standing in a giant soup kitchen of sorts, with an old lady at the counter, scooping soup out of her steaming pot and into one cup after another.

This is Mengpo, the amnesia soup granny; according to the Jade Records, she was born in the Western Han era, and a pious cultivator who thought of neither the past nor the future, only knowing that her surname was Meng.

Made into an Underworld god by the Jade Emperor, she cooks a soup of five flavors that will wipe the memory of the dead, making sure they do not remember any of their past lives once they reincarnate.

It tastes awful. Like what you get after pouring corn syrup, coffee, chilli sauce, lemon juice and seawater into the same cup.

Such was Xiao Ming's last thought, as he gulped down the soup, and then he knew no more.

Things you should know about the Chinese Underworld:

1. It's not the Christian Hell.

Rather, the Chinese Underworld functions somewhat like the Purgatory, in that there are a lot of torment, but the torment's not eternal, however long the duration may be. Once you finish your sentence, you get reincarnated as something else, though that "something else" is not a guaranteed good birth.

Other people can also speed up the process via transferring of merits: hiring a priest/monk to chant sutras and perform rituals, for example, or performing good deeds in life in dedication to the dead, or they can pray to a Daoist/Buddhist deity to save their loved ones from a dreadful fate.

Interestingly enough, a thesis paper I read mentions that, whereas Buddhist salvation from the Hells was based on transference of merits——you give monks offerings and pay them to chant sutras, so they can cancel out the sinners' bad karma with good ones, Daoist ideas of salvation tend to involve the priest going down there, sorting it out with the Underworld officials, and taking the dead out of the Hells themselves.

(The paper also stops at the Northern-Southern and Tang dynasties, so the above is likely period-specific.)

2. Nor is it run by evil demons.

Underworld officials are not nice guys and look pretty monstrous and torture the sinful dead, but they are not the embodiment of evil. Rather, the faction as a whole is what I'd call Lawful Neutral, who function on this "An Eye for An Eye" logic, where every harm the sinner caused in life must be returned to them, in order for their karmic debts to be cleansed and move on to their next life.

They can absolutely be corrupt and incompetent and take bribes——Tang dynasty Zhiguai tales and Qing folklore compendiums featured plenty of such cases, but that's a very mundane and human kind of evil, not a cosmic/innate one.

This is just my personal opinion, but if you want to do an "evil" Chinese Underworld? It should be a very bureaucratic evil, whose leaders are bootlickers to the higher-ups, slavedrivers to their rank-and-file workers, and bullies who abuse their power over regular dead people.

Not, y'know, Satan and his infernal legions or conspiring Cthulu cultists.

3. The Ten Kings are not Hades.

Make no mistake, they still have a lot of power over your average dead mortal. But in the grand scheme of things? They are the backwater department of the pantheon, who only show up in JTTW to get pushed around and revive the occasional dead people.

When Taizong made his trip to the Underworld, the Ten Kings greeted him as equals——kings of ghosts to the king of the living. If they see themselves as equal in status to a mortal emperor, then, like any mortal emperors, they are subordinate to the Celestial Host, and the balance of power is not even remotely equal or in their favor.

Also, it isn't said outright, but under the Zhong-Lv classification of immortals JTTW is using, Underworld officials will likely be considered Ghostly immortals, the lowest and weakest of the five types, much like Tudis and Chenghuangs.

Essentially: they are ghosts that are powerful enough to not reincarnate and linger on and on, spirits of pure Yin as opposed to true immortals, who are beings of pure Yang.

It's pretty much the shittiest form of immortality, the result you get when you try to speedrun cultivation (the Zhong-Lv text also made a dig at Buddhist meditation here), and if they don't reincarnate or regain a physical body, there is no chance of progressing any further.

Oh, and fun fact? In the Song dynasty, commoners and literati elites alike believed that virtuous officials in life would get appointed as ghostly officials in death.

However, the latter viewed it as a punishment. Which was strange, considering how they still held the same position and the same amount of authority, just over dead people instead of living ones, so there should be no big losses, right?

Well...it was precisely the "dead people" part that made it a punishment. See, a lot of the power and prestige they had as officials came from the benefits they could bring to their families and kins and native places, as well as the potential wealth and reputation bonuses for themselves.

A job in the Dead People Supreme Court would give them the same workload, but with none of those benefits. Since all the dead people had to reincarnate eventually, they couldn't have a fixed group as their power base, or keep their old familial ties and connections. At most, they could help out an occasional dead relative or two.

Like, working for the Underworld Courts was the kind of deadend (no pun intended) job not even living officials wanted for themselves in the afterlife. That's how hilariously sad and pathetic they are.

4. In JTTW at least, they aren't even the highest authorities of the Underworld.

That would be Bodhisattva Ksitigarbha, who is technically their boss, though he seems to be more of a spiritual leader than someone who is actually involved in running the bureaucracy.

Which makes sense, since he has sworn an oath to not attain Buddhahood until all Hells are empty, and his role is to offer relief and salvation to the suffering souls, not judging and punishing them.

Now, historically...even though Ksitigarbha in early Tang legends was still the savior of the dead, he seemed to be unable to interfere with the judicial process of the Underworld, merely showing up to take people away before they were judged by King Yama.

However, in the mid-Tang apocryphal "Sutra of Bodhisattva Ksitigarbha" (地藏菩萨经), he had evolved into the equal of King Yama, with the power of supervision over his judgements. By the time the Scripture on the Ten Kings came out, in artistic depictions, the Ten Kings had become fully subservient to him.

5. Diyu usually refers to the prison-torture chamber part, not the courthouse, nor is it the entirety of the Underworld.

And for the majority of souls that haven't committed crimes, they'll only see the courthouse part before they are sent to reincarnation. That's why I personally don't like, or use the name Diyu for the Chinese Underworld: I prefer the term Difu ("Earth Mansions"), which encompasses the whole realm better.

Also: even though historical sources like the Scripture on the Ten Kings and Jade Records seem to suggest that the dead were just funneled through this Courthouse-Prison-Reincarnation pipeline with no breaks in between, in practice, that isn't the case.

According to popular folk beliefs, after the dead were done with their trials/sentences, they stayed in the Underworld for a period of time and led regular lives, while functioning as ancestor spirits and receiving offerings.

Which would imply that the Underworld had a civilian district of sorts, populated by regular ghosts, making the whole realm even less of a direct Hell/Purgatory equivalent.

6. It is located in a different realm, but still part of the Six Paths and doesn't exist outside of reality.

In Buddhist cosmology, like the Celestial Realm, the Underworld is part of the Realm of Desires and thus subject to all the woes of samsara.

The pain and misery of the Path of Hell may be the worst and most obvious, but becoming a celestial being isn't the goal of serious Buddhists either: despite all the pleasures and near-infinite lifespan they enjoy, they are not free from samsara and will eventually have to reincarnate.

So if, say, the world is being destroyed at the end of a kalpa, all beings of the Six Paths will perish alongside it, leaving behind a clean slate for the cycle to start anew. The dead won't all end up in the Underworld and face eternal damnation.

7. The Black and White Impermanences would not appear in the Underworld pantheon formally until the Qing dynasty.

The concept that when you die, you get fetched to the Underworld by petty ghost bureaucrats is already well-established in Tang legends, but these were just generic ghost bureaucrats in all sorts of colorful official robes, with yellow being the most common color.

The idea of there being two specific psychopomps in black and white would only become popular in the Qing dynasty. Mengpo is kinda similar: although she existed before the Ming-Qing era as a goddess of wind, venerated by boatmen, her "amnesia soup granny" incarnation came from the Jade Records.

#chinese mythology #chinese folklore #chinese underworld #diyu #chinese religion #cw: death #hell #underworld #journey to the west #I'm lazy so if you want a “work cited” list #just dm me

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ms-demeanor · 2 months ago

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"I'm sorry my evil empire killed your friends but I'm going to keep working to make sure myself and all the other imperials get clean sidewalks and fluffy socks and sandwiches :)"

Let's be honest the only good ending here is the collapse of the USA. I hope for your sake it's relatively quick and bloodless but I hope more that it happens.

What can I say? I am sorry that the evil empire I live in killed your friends. I don't think it should do that. I've been protesting wars since 2003 because I don't think it should do that.

I'm sorry you have it worse than me, and I'm sorry if the things that I'm doing to help people in an area where I can help people don't make your life better. That's rough buddy, but I'm not sure why you're talking to me about it because the things you're doing aren't going to make much of an impact on my day either.

I'm not sure if you're familiar with how US anarchists work, but generally when we talk about handing out hygiene kits and food, it is to unhoused people. If you think that unhoused Americans deserve to be hungry, or don't deserve clean socks or wipes to help prevent debilitating infections because they live in an imperialist nation that bombs people and installs dictators, well, you kind of sound like a piece of shit and it doesn't make me particularly sympathetic to your position.

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mcrdvcks · 30 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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jiniretracha · 1 day ago

Text

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝟏𝟎 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 - 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱

Pairing: Lee Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, slight smut (piv!)

Summary: Felix Lee makes a bet with his co-workers in which he had to make a woman fall in love with him within 10 days, but he picks the wrong woman, who's working on an article for the magazine she works for called 'How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days' and she had chosen him as his prey. Based on one of my comfort movies: How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days (2003).

Word Count: a whooping amount of 13.2k

PS: this is an old fic of mine from my old ao3 account (that i don't use anymore lol), i rewrote it with Lix instead. You can check it out here. Also, i proofread this but i don't trust myself that much so, if you see any mistake, feel free to let me know pls.

MASTERLIST // my Ko-Fi

Day 1

“I’m going back to bed, I have no reason to live”

“Oh Karina! Come on. Get up, I’m not gonna let you lose your job over a stupid guy” you said.

Karina laid in bed, tears both fresh and dried on her cheeks, heartbroken over a guy she met, fell in love with and then told her he didn’t want anything serious.

“Oh, oh Y/N” Karina said, hugging you.

“You only dated the guy for a week” You reminded her in a whisper.

“It was the best week of my life, Y/N. He was perfect” she sniffled.

You sighed and pulled away from the hug. “Come on. I’m sure Seulgi yelling at us because we didn’t write the article like she wanted us to will bring you back to reality and will make you forget about the douche you dated” you said with a smile, making her chuckle.

You helped her get dressed and then got in a taxi to the Composure offices, where you, Karina and your other best friend, Ryujin worked. Composure was a ‘girly or gay’ magazine, as everyone liked to call it, created by Kang Seulgi, where you could find either the latest trend in fashion, the Kardashians latest fake scandal or how to catch men like Harry Styles. You found all the articles that were written in the magazine a little bit sexist, you studied journalism to become a real one, not a gossip writer for a cheap magazine. But it was a job that gave you a certain status, you couldn’t complain.

When you arrived at the Composure offices, you opened the door of the cab for Karina, who held a couple of tissues in her hand. She blew her nose and got surprised by Ryujin who was holding a cup holder with 3 newly ordered coffees from Starbucks. “Hey honey” Ryujin winced when she saw Karina state.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it okay?” she smiled through the pain, making you and Ryujin nod.

You got inside the big building and pressed the button that led to the Composure floor.

Karina broke down and leaned her head on the elevator wall. “Why? Why does this always happen to me? I get this great guy, and everything’s amazing for a week and a half, and suddenly, it’s over and I’m mystified!” she cried.

The people inside the elevator were looking at the girl with furrowed eyebrows and you glared at them, making them look the other way.

“Mingyu and I had such a connection” she gushed over him. “Like-like the first time we had sex, it was so beautiful. I even cried” she said.

You pressed your lips together, suddenly very aware of the people inside the elevator. “You mean like, shed a tear, wiped it with a finger. Right?”

“No, I was very emotional. I even told him that I loved him” she explained, with a shake of her head.

“After how many days?” Ryujin asked sipping on her coffee to hide her grimace.

“Five” she said and then looked the other way. “Two”

You and Ryujin sighed loudly.

“But… I just felt like he needed to know” she said.

“Well, what did he say?” you asked.

Karina sighed. “He didn’t have to say anything. I knew he felt the same as me” she smiled and then she frowned. “But then he started getting really busy… I didn’t know where he was at times. I kept calling him, calling him and calling but he was never home!”

“You kept calling him?” You asked, wincing.

“Well he wasn’t answering” she defended herself. “Plus he didn’t know it was him, my number was blocked”

“Oh sweetie” Ryujin said. “I’m sure he thought it was one of his friends”

The elevator dinged and you got out, Ryujin and Karina following behind.

“Rina, honey. You do realize you were way too pretty for him? I mean, you were like Kaia Gerber when she was dating Pete Davidson!” you explained. “You need to be in a relationship like Megan Fox and Machine Gun Kelly, you can’t decide which one is hotter”

Karina huffed. “Maybe but… for me, he was really handsome. And cute. Ugh, he was perfect” she said and a few tears slipped from her cheek.

“No, wait. Don’t cry honey. What Y/N and I want to say is that you need to realize that if this guy didn’t like you for who you were, then screw him” Ryujin explained.

“Yeah, but I know why he dumped me. I’m too fat”

“You’re not fat!” both you and Ryujin said.

As you climbed up the stairs to get to your respective offices you sighed. “Okay, Rina, look. Even if the most beautiful girl in the world acted the way you did, a normal guy would still be running in the other direction” you said, as your friends followed behind you.

“No guy would be running away from you, Y/N” Karina said. “I mean, you could barf all over him and he’d say, “Thank you, can you please do it again?”” she said, making you laugh.

��Okay, that is absolutely disgusting and totally not true!” you laughed at her metaphor. “Cause if I did the things you did, I’d get dumped too. Anyways, enough with this Mingyu bullshit. I got two tickets for the Knicks game for tomorrow that Ryujin got from his cousin, and since you’re the only one available, you could join me, maybe?”

“Nah thanks, I’d like to sit in my misery for a couple more days” Karina sighed.

The three of you got inside Seulgi’s office along with other co-workers.

“Alrighty, family. What do we got for the next issue?” Seulgi asked.

Ryujin raised her hand. “As you asked, I got the latest The Bachelor drama covered, and I also answered a few of the questions users asked us on the website”

Seulgi nodded. “Great work, Ryujin. What about How-To with Y/N?”

You smiled. “I worked on something different and completely new for the issue. It’s uh… a political piece--”

“--Y/N. You work for Composure magazine. Not Forbes” Seulgi said sternly. “We are fashion, drama, gossip, cosmetic surgeries, you name it. That’s what Composure is about”

“Yeah, I know but--”

“Y/N, you writing in the column is new for you, I get it. But you’re working for me , and until I decide when you are going to write whatever you want, you write whatever I want. Okay?”

“Yeah” you nodded, looking at your skirt, not wanting to look Seulgi in the eyes.

“Karina, what do you got?” Seulgi sighed.

She lifted her head and paled. “I…Uh… sorry, Seulgi. I wasn’t feeling very well” Karina said.

“She got dumped” Ryujin quickly filled in, earning a glare from Karina.

“Oh, no… Karina. It must be feeling hellish for you these past few days, but I must say you’re looking gorgeous” Seulgi complimented. “Doesn’t she?” she asked and everyone nodded, complimenting her.

Karina sighed. “I haven’t been eating since the split”

“Good for you! Write about it” Seulgi said. Ryujin and you looked at each other and grimaced.

“I can’t use my personal life as a story” she said, her voice small.

Seulgi smiled. “I understand completely. Who will use Karina’s story for their article?” she asked suddenly.

“No, no, no. Wait, Seulgi. With all due respect no one has business here using my story for an article in a magazine, I’m sorry but--”

“I’ll do it” you said suddenly, an idea clicking in your mind.

“What?” Karina looked at you.

“I-I’ll sort of do it. You’ll be my inspiration” you said. “Like, look at Karina. She’s a great girl, right?” you asked, and Seulgi nodded with a curt yes and nodded for you to continue. “An amazing woman. But… she has a problem hanging onto relationships. No offense. And probably, doesn't know what she’s doing wrong, like it could happen to our readers. So, my idea was that I could start dating this guy and then drive him away but only using these common mistakes like girls like Rina or our readers commit all the time. I’ll even… keep a diary of it and it will be sort of a dating how-to in reverse”

Karina smiled at you and Seulgi clapped her hands together. “What not to do. Brilliant!”

“Yeah”

“How to lose a guy in 10 days” Seulgi said. “Loved it, go. Now Sunoo, what’s the shoe story you wanted--”

“I’m sorry, Seulgi. Ten days? Why ten days?” you asked.

Her eyebrows arched. “Well, I figured 5 days is too short and we go to press in 11, so…” she said.

Karina and Ryujin gave you thumbs up, making you smile at them, but innerly wondering how the hell would you manage to do this in only ten days.

-------------------

Felix Lee arrived at his office, parking his motorbike and taking off his helmet. As always, earning smiles and flirtatious looks from the ladies in the streets, but he loved the attention.

Working as a publicity chief had its perks. You could share an office with your best friends and have an assistant that brings you lunch or whatever you want, but it also had its drawbacks like having a boss who’s riding your ass. That was Felix’s case.

Felix got inside the building and into his office. “What’s up, Hyunjinnie?” he said.

Hyunjin looked up from his computer and smirked. “Oh, hey, Lix”

Jisung, his other best friend, got inside with a worried look. “Did you hear?”

“Hear what? About the Knicks game tomorrow? I did, and it’s pretty terrible, cause I didn’t get the tickets--”

Jisung sighed. “Not about the Knicks game. De Lauer diamonds is looking for a new ad agency and Mr. Park wants to move it aggressively”

“Yes!” Felix smiled. “Yes! This is a good day. Guys, did you know that diamonds are as common as taxis on Fifth Avenue?” he asked while taking his shirt off, and grabbing his dress shirt from the desk. The women in the office every day went crazy whenever he came in with a normal, regular shirt and changed it for a formal one. “The value is entirely sentimental… but we do have game in what we do the best. Advertising. So, my point is--” he said while buttoning his shirt up. “De Lauer owns the diamond market, meaning, if I represent them, I basically own everyone’s ass in the industry” he smiled.

Hyunjin sighed. “That’s the thing, Mr. Park already gave it to the Chaeyoung’s”

Felix’s eyes narrowed. Son Chaeyoung and Park Chaeyoung were his number 1 competitors inside the publicity business. “No way!”

“Yeah, it kind of makes sense when you have a pair of hot leggy chicks and we’re the beer and sneakers division, you know?” Hyunjin said.

“No way, I’ll have this deal” Felix said.

Jisung and Hyunjin stepped in his way. “No, Mr. Park is on a plane right now, business meeting. He’s having dinner with the Chaeyoung’s tonight”

“Where?”

“At Yu Bar” Jisung said and Hyunjin nodded.

“That fancy shithole? I’ll crash there and claim what’s ours guys. This will be my pitch, my account, my campaign, my baby. I make the rules now” he smirked.

“It’s kind of hard when you have a millionaire right above your ass but we get your point bro, we’re with you” Hyunjin said with a shrug.

“Hell yeah” Jisung smiled.

----------------------

After work, you and the girls prepared yourselves to set a trap for the guy you were going to use for this ‘How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days’.

You put on your best dress and put the plan in action, heading to Yu Bar, Karina’s parents restaurant.

“I don’t think this will work, Y/N” Karina said with a frown walking down the street.

“Of course it will work, Rina. Just watch me hook a guy with my charms, like woo him a little that will make him want to see me again and then tomorrow I’ll pull the switch and make him nuts” you explained with ease.

“Please tell me you’re not gonna burn down his apartment or bite him, are you?” Ryujin asked.

You laughed at her comment. “No, I’m gonna limit myself to doing everything girls do that make men run off” you shrugged. “That means being clingy, needy--”

“Touchy-feely” Ryujin added and you nodded. “Oh, call him in the middle of the night just to tell him everything you had to eat that day” she smirked devilishly.

“What’s wrong with that?” Karina asked, making you and Ryujin stop dead in your tracks. “I’m kidding”

You got inside Yu Bar and Karina gave a wink to the man guarding the door, letting him know they had free access to eat.

“Well, Ryujin and I will grab a couple of drinks, in the meantime, you go search for a man that could easily fall for your trap” Karina said and grabbed Ryujin’s hand, guiding her to the bar.

You nodded and looked around. Let’s get the plan started, you smirked to yourself.

---------------

Mr. Park arrived at Yu Bar with the Chaeyoung’s behind him.

“Hello Felix. What a surprise seeing you here” he said, surprised to see the freckled blonde sitting on the table he exclusively reserved for him and the Chaeyoung’s.

The girls behind him scowled at the intrusive blonde, and he winked at them.

“Hello, Mr. Park. How’s it going?” he smirked, standing to shake the man’s hand. “Son, Park” he nodded to them.

“I’m great, but what are you doing here?” he asked with a shake of his head, confused at the situation.

He sat down. “Well, I’m here for the meeting. I know I wasn’t invited but I should’ve. It was my tip De Lauer was shopping for a new firm” he smirked at the girls.

“Yes, it was. But I was thinking about who suits best within the company” Mr. Park said.

“And that’s me” Felix said confidently.

“Felix, I know you sell blow pretty well. But these ladies sell luxury faster than anyone” He said.

The blonde sighed, irritated to hear how his boss was complimenting his worst enemies.

“We’re here to sell diamonds, mostly women. Because let’s face it. Women love diamonds and if we can make them seem appealing to them then boom” the freckled man said. “Selling a diamond to a woman is like making her fall in love. Like talking about head-over-heels in love, his-and-her towels, let’s grow old together, L-O-V-E, love” he explained. The Chaeyoung’s were giving him a strange look. “Look, I love women. I do. I respect them, and listen to them. And that’s why I can sell myself to any woman, anytime, any day, anywhere” he said.

“Make a woman fall in love with diamonds or with you, Felix?” Son Chaeyoung asked.

Felix was taken aback with the question. “Either way… I’m pretty confident” he said.

“I’d like to see you prove that” Park Chaeyoung challenged.

“Oh, you would?”

She laughed. “The agency is co-hosting a party for the De Lauers at the museum. The party is in a week from sunday. Think you can make a woman fall in love with you by then?” Park Chaeyoung asked.

Felix’s eyes narrowed and smiled a little. “Ten days?”

“Any woman, anytime, anywhere?” Son Chaeyoung chimed in.

“Yeah well, any woman, who’s single, straight and available, yeah” he said.

Park Chaeyoung smirked. “Then it’s settled. I’ll choose a woman from this bar. Anyone. And then you decide”

Felix turned around with a smirk. “So, who’s the lucky girl?”

Son Chaeyoung recognized you from the Composure offices as she was friends with both Mr. Park and Kang Seulgi. “Her” she pointed at you with an evil smirk.

Felix turned around and saw you. His heart fluttered a little bit when he saw you throwing your head back in a laugh with a drink in your hands, facing your friend Karina. He smiled and nodded. “Done”

“What?”

“Done. You’re on” he nodded at Son Chaeyoung. “You both are. But here are the stakes” he specified, making Mr. Park’s eyebrows arch. “After I win this bet, the pitch is mine”

“Agreed” Son Chaeyoung said.

“Mr. Park?”

“Agreed” he said. “You come to that party with a girl that’s really in love with you, Felix, and you can make the pitch to the De Lauers.”

The Chaeyoung’s looked at each other and sighed.

“To the De Lauers” Mr. Park said, raising a toast to the four of them.

-----------------

“Okay guys, this is not going as I thought it would. I charmed my way with two guys in ten minutes. The first one was gay, and the second one was married.” you sighed, dropping your ass on the stool. “Saw the fucking ring on his finger and the wallpaper on his phone”

Ryujin rubbed your arm. “You’ll find him. Don’t worry. Here’s your Manhattan” she said, handing you the drink.

You noticed that your purse was not with you and you slapped yourself on the forehead. “Shit, I forgot my purse on the other side of the bar. I’ll be right back” you said, hopping off the stool.

You made your way to where the purse was, and grabbed it. You were about to walk to where your friends were until a blonde, handsome, freckled, and sexy guy was standing right in front of you. Your eyes widened.

“Hi” he said.

“Hi” you said, looking him up and down, while he did the same. “Y/N Y/L/N” you said and stretched your hand out.

He smiled and took it. “Felix Lee”

“Cute”

“Thank you” he said smugly.

You scoffed. “I meant your name”

“Thank you two times”

“Unattached?” you asked.

“Currently” he nodded, sipping his drink.

“Likewise”

“Surprising” he said.

“Psycho?”

“Rarely” he said and you hummed. “Interested?”

“Perhaps” you played hard to get.

“Hungry?”

“Starved actually” you said, twirling your hair with a finger.

“Leaving” he said confidently.

“Now?”

“Yep”

“Okay” you nodded. “Let me get my stuff then, Felix Lee”

“I’ll meet you at the door” he said, and walked up to the entrance with a smile on his lips.

You walked up to Karina and Ryujin and squealed. “Guys, I think I got one” you said.

“But he was married” Karina protested.

You laughed. “No, not him. The cute blonde who’s waiting at the door with the leather jacket”

Ryujin peeped from just above your head and gasped. “Holy cow. He’s really cute”

“I’m gonna check if he’s a keeper. He promised he wasn’t psycho, though” you said, grabbing your purse. “I’m doing this for you. Bye guys”

You walked through the crowd until you reached Felix, who put a hand on your back and led you outside. You walked up to a car that was right by the entrance, thinking it was his until he grabbed your hand and led you to a motorcycle parked right next to it.

You scoffed. “I… a bike?” you stammered.

“Yep. Here, I use the black one, and you the goofy-looking white helmet” he said, handing you the helmet with a smile.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You always pick up girls like this? Cause I’m telling you it is not charming at all” you said, laughing.

“Come on Y/N Y/L/N” he said, and you grabbed the helmet putting it on your head. He then let out a cute giggle and knocked on the helmet with his knuckles softly. “Beautiful”

---------------

After you grabbed food, you headed to his apartment. He dropped his stuff on the kitchen table and offered to take off his jacket that was clinging to your shoulders.

“So, I never got to ask you this but uh… what do you exactly do for a living? Cause let me tell you, this is a great apartment” you said, looking around.

“I’m in advertising” he said, putting the coat on the hanger beside the door. “I work mostly with alcoholic beverages and athletic companies, and now our big break is with jewelry companies” he said, turning around to face you.

“Huh. That’s pretty good. I love it”

“You?” he asked, grabbing two beers from the fridge.

“I work at Composure” you said, grabbing the bottle he offered to you.

His eyebrows raised at that. “Wow, fastest selling women's magazine in the US, that’s amazing” he smiled at you. “What do you write about? How to save a shopaholic’s life?”

You gasped. “Oh, wow. Calm down, sparky. I got a journalism degree from Columbia, thank you very much. My boss loves me and if I kiss her ass a little more, I will write about whatever the hell I want” you said proudly, sipping on your newly opened beer.

“Like shoes- Ow” he said, his comment earning a punch. He laughed and rubbed his shoulder.

“No, smarty pants. I want to write about politics. Or… alcoholic beverages and athletic gear” you teased and he laughed.

Felix smiled. “You’re mean. Do you bite?”

“Sometimes. I can if you want me to, freckles” you said with a glint in your eyes, that made his darken.

He licked his lips. “Do you want to go to my room?” he asked. “You know, it’s pretty much… comfy there”

You smirked. “Yeah, let me go to the bathroom, real quick”

You walked to the bathroom and locked yourself in there, stifling your laugh. You caught this playboy-like guy who was too cocky for his own good. You dialed Ryujin’s number and looked at yourself in the mirror.

“Are you at his apartment? I can’t believe you, Y/N!” Ryujin squealed.

“Yes, yes. I got him”

“You’re not gonna sleep with him are you?” Karina asked.

You rolled your eyes. “No, Rina. I have self-control. Unlike other people”

Karina gasped. “That was mean. That hurt”

Meanwhile, Felix lit some candles and put them in his room, smirking at himself.

“You have to take down notes. Remember the article” Ryujin said.

“Yeah, I know, Ryu. I gotta go. I’ll text you guys the details then. Bye” you said and pressed the red button, finishing the call and straightening up your dress. This was going to be fun.

You got out of the bathroom and took in his room, all lit by candles while a slow R&B song was playing in the background.

“Wow, this is impressive” you said, grabbing the beer you had left on the stand.

He sat on the chest of drawers he had and patted the empty space. You smiled and sat down next to him, dropping your purse next to you and sipping on your beer. You two stayed in silence, just enjoying each other’s company, until you got bored of it, and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

He let you for a couple of seconds until he pulled his head back a little with a groan. “Wait, let’s not go too fast” he whispered.

Your heart sank. He’s not as easy as I thought. Blinking several times, you nodded, fake blushing, trying to guilt-trip him into kissing you.

You tried to take a sip from your beer but he pushed it away and kissed the breath out of you. He made you stand up, your kiss never breaking. Wrapping your arms around him, you opened your mouth and welcomed his tongue. You felt the control slipping from your fingers and pulled away.

“We’re moving too fast” you panted against his lips.

He nodded but you kissed him again, and he followed your lead. The kiss was hungry and he grabbed your ass, making you moan a little loud against his lips. His hands dropped to your thighs, lifting you up a little and you both dropped on the bed. Felix grabbed your leg, caressing the skin there, gripping your flesh and it made you both pull away at the same time.

“Too fast” you said in unison.

You both sat up and looked at each other.

“We respect each other right?“ You asked.

“If you respect me, I respect you”

“Good” you said, and dropped a kiss on his lips.

A few minutes later, your cab arrived and you walked down the street opening the door of the taxi. You heard someone whistling and you looked up, seeing Felix in his balcony, smirking at you.

He waved at you and you waved back.

“Ah, you are already falling in love with me” he said, pushing his tongue against the inner side of his cheek.

You smiled from down the street and blew him a kiss. “I’m gonna make you wish you were dead. Poor guy”

And then you were gone, and he was back in his apartment. He turned around and bit his lip, noticing that you (purposely) forgot your purse on his chest of drawers.

“Smart girl” he said, with a nudge of his head.

--------------

Day 2

Felix dropped the purse on his office desk. Hyunjin and Jisung sat studying the bag, their eyes running all over the leather object.

“Have you looked inside of it?” Hyunjin asked.

He shook his head. “No, I waited to be with you so you could give me advice on how to play my next move” Felix said, sitting down on his chair.

Jisung rolled his eyes. “Dude you’re the expert with chicks here”

“I know. But you think she’ll bother if I put my hands inside her purse?” he asked, sipping on his coffee.

Hyunjin tried to grab it but ended up throwing it to the floor and all the things inside spilled on the floor. Jisung smacked the back of his head, making the elder grumble and rub the sore spot.

“Great job, knobhead” Felix said and the three guys kneeled down to check the things inside your purse. “Wait guys” he said as he looked at a white envelope. “What’s this?” he asked, opening it and he took out two Knicks game tickets.

His eyes widened and so did his friends’.

“She’s so hot. I don’t even have to see her face to know she is” Hyunjin said, clenching his eyes.

“That she is. But she’s also a smart little shit. She wanted me to find them” Felix said smugly, getting up and dropping them on his desk.

Jisung’s eyebrows arched. “Felix, you guys met when she had already her purse with her”

Felix didn’t pay him attention and smirked.

---------------

Meanwhile, your office was full of white roses, and you gasped looking at the scene. Ryujin next to you laughed. “Okay, what did you give him? A love spell?”

“What the hell is this?” you asked.

Karina searched the flowers for a card and found one, and read it out loud. “One hundred times more beautiful than a hundred roses. Where the fuck do you find these guys?”

You laughed and felt your heart flutter. No, wait. This was all planned. You rolled your eyes at yourself. “He works in advertising, of course he had to give me flowers with a catchy pick up line”

Ryujin laughed. “You think?”

You gasped. “This means he found the Knicks tickets” you said. Karina gasped. “I’m mean, I know. I’ll call him”

Just before you could dial his number, your phone rang.

“Y/N Y/L/N, Composure offices” you said, knowing it was him.

Felix put the phone on speaker and gave his friends a smug smile. “Hey, hey pretty girl. Received my flowers?”

You sighed. “I did. I got now a really embarrassing display of roses in my office” you said, rolling your eyes with a smirk on your face.

Felix laughed. “You are welcome, I had a really good time last night” he said charmingly. “I have your bag”

“Oh, I know. I forgot it. Such a klutz” you said, your friends stifling their laughs with their hands.

Felix sighed. “Well, you must need it back. You know, all the cash, credit cards… Knicks game tickets for tonight” he taunted. His friends gave him a thumbs up.

You fake gasped. “You are a very bad boy, Mr. Lee. You’ve been peeking through my bag! Haven’t they taught you manners?”

He scoffed. “No, absolutely not. My art director and pal Hyunjin, who’s such a dumbass, knocked it over by accident” he said and kicked Hyunjin’s leg without even looking at him.

“Ow! Yeah, I’m a dumbass, sorry” he said, wincing.

“Alright. I’m sorry, though. I’m going with someone else to the game.

Felix smirked. “Well, not anymore. You forgot your bag by ‘accident’? You obviously wanted me to go to the game. You just didn’t know how to ask. But save the begging, pretty girl, I’ll go with you”

You gasped internally. Cocky, you mouthed to your friends. “You are so full of yourself, tell me. Does that psychobabble work with everybody?” you asked, leaning forward on your desk.

“You tell me”

“You are so mean” Karina whispered.

You pressed your lips together, pretending to think about it. “Alright, you win, handsome. Meet me at the seventh avenue entrance. Don’t be late”

“You got it. Bye bye”

“Bye” you said and hung up the phone.

Ryujin and Karina let their laugh out. “He’s dead” Ryujin said.

-------------------------

It was Knicks night and you and Felix were sitting very close to the court. He was in awe.

You and Felix booed, cheered, yelled and clapped, you were both ecstatic.

An hour later, the game was about to end, the team calling for a 20-second-time and break began. That meant that the fan cams were on. It was time for the kissing cam and you both laughed at the couples kissing. You gasped when the camera pointed at both you and Felix and laughed, looking at each other.

You patted your cheek but he quickly grabbed your neck and planted a heavy kiss on your mouth. The crowd erupted in cheers as the kiss grew hotter and you pulled away, with a red face. He sat there licking his lips, proud of your reaction.

The break time was finished and the game began once again. An idea popped in your head.

“Lixie, babe?” you asked with a pouty face.

He didn’t even look at you. “What-what?” he asked.

“I’m kind of thirsty, Lix” you whined.

“Yeah okay” he said and continued cheering on the team.

You frowned and sighed. “Felix, can you get me a soda? I’m parched” you whined.

Felix couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She wants a soda right now? Just when the game’s ending? “I’ll get it right after the game, baby” he said, glancing at you.

“I’m really thirsty” you smiled at him with a little pout and he looked at you. “I’ll get it” with a sigh, you mumbled.

He made you stop. “No, hang on. I’ll get it” he sighed and ran quickly to the shop, up the stairs.

Felix ran to the shop and asked for a coke. When he finally got it, he went back to the bleachers.

“Here” he said, handing it to you and quickly stretching up his neck to see what he missed.

You took a sip and pretended to gag. “Ugh, Felix. I forgot. I wanted a diet coke. Not regular” you whined.

Felix looked at you and you noticed he was very irritated. He pursed his lips furiously. “I’ll- Wait a second” he said and got back to the shop, right after, the crowd started counting from 5 to 0.

When the player scored, Felix missed by a few seconds on the shop TV. Everyone cheered and he stood there, watching the TV furiously. Felix kicked an empty soda cup on the floor angrily. He had missed the most important part of the game.

Once they were out of Madison Square Garden, you grabbed onto Felix’s arm and sighed. “What an exciting game, dude” you said with a smile. “I’ve never had so much adrenaline in my body, let me tell you”

Felix sighed. “Yep, pretty good game” he said.

“Oh, too bad you missed it” you said with a cheeky smile and stopped a cab. He bit his lips and let out a little smile. She’s lucky she’s cute, he thought.

The cab stopped and he opened the door for you. You stood watching him. “So… I’ll see you later, huh?” you asked.

He nodded. “I hope so”

You smiled and handed him the soda cup. He kissed you holding your waist and then when he pulled away, he winked at you. You got inside the car and closed the door.

Felix stood there watching the cab speed off. “Nice” he said, drinking the rest of the soda.

-------------------

Day 3

Felix was in a business meeting when his assistant peeked in and knocked.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Park. But Mr. Lee has an important call” she said with a wince.

He nodded. “Leave them a message, Yunjin please” Felix told her.

“It’s Y/N, Mr. Lee” she smiled.

He looked at Mr. Park for permission, and he sighed, nodding. “Make it quick”

Felix grabbed the phone and hit the accept call button.

“Hello?”

“It’s me! Baby!” You squealed.

“Uh, I’m in a business meeting right now, babe. I can’t call you now. Can I call you later, though?” he offered.

“It’s just that I miss you so much, baby-boo-boo-boo” you said with a baby voice. Ryujin and Karina were next to you and were holding onto each other, trying not to cackle.

“Well I miss you too” he said, with a smile, trying to ignore the baby voice.

“You busy tonight?”

“Uh, I’m not. Can we catch a movie or something? You can pick if you want” he said. “The cinema on the fourth is making a retro movie night” he said.

“A movie? My choice?” you squealed.

“Yeah”

“I’m so excited! I’ll call you later then, Lixie-Boo” you said.

“Bye, hon” he said, and hung up. A little smile was playing on his lips. “I think this is working, ladies and gentlemen” he yelled and clapped his hands, making Mr. Park shake his head with a little chuckle.

------------------

Movie night was on and the one you had picked was the most cringey you could find in retro-movie night: You’ve Got Mail.

You were eating popcorn and while you were enjoying the movie, you needed him to get irritated by your comments. “I always wanted a man like Tom Hanks” you said. “This is like my favorite movie of all time” you lied.

“Yeah me too” he said. You stopped eating. Shit, you thought, bad movie choice.

Someone shushed you from behind your seats and you kept quiet.

You bit your lip. “What are you thinking about?” you digged.

Felix forced a smile. “Movie. I’m thinking about the movie” he said, not bothering to look at you.

You smiled and played with his hair. “Yeah but what are you thinking about?”

He sighed, slightly enjoying the feeling of your fingers on his hair but hating the way you were trying to make conversation in the middle of You’ve Got Mail. “The movie”

You nodded and tried to think about your next move. “Okay, but what? Your mind’s completely blank?” you asked, and he closed his eyes, letting out a ragged breath. “Who is she?” you asked, putting your popcorn down, feeling your forehead purse into a frown.

Felix looked at you. “Who’s who?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

“The girl you’re thinking about” You exclaimed.

“I can’t hear” the guy who shushed you before says.

“I’m not thinking about any girl, Y/N” he said.

You clicked your tongue. “I’ve dealt with enough liars! You can’t watch Meg Ryan and not think about another girl” you said.

People behind you were trying to shut you up but it didn’t work.

“You wanna know what I’m thinking?” he asked in a whisper. You nodded and he sighed. “I’m thinking about… how damn beautiful you are. And how that beautiful face like yours can believe I’m thinking about another girl, while I’m here with you” he said. “And also, how damn good this movie is. So we’re going to continue watching it”

You squealed a little bit and hugged him. “Oh, Lix, my baby” you said and kissed his face a couple of times, leaning almost on top of him. “I love sharing this with you”

“Hey! I can’t see and I can't hear” the guy behind you said.

You whirled around in your seat furiously. “If you don’t shut up, my boyfriend here will kick your ass back to where you belong” you said smugly.

“Wait, Y/N” he tried, his eyebrows furrowing in desperation.

“Oh really? Let’s see what you got, pretty boy. Outside. Now” the man said.

Felix wanted the earth to swallow him up.

------------

“Oh, Felix. Poor baby” you said, grabbing his face, sitting on the floor of the cinema entrance. His face was nestled between your breasts and he sighed contently, even if he was in pain.

“Wait. Lix let’s go to a hospital” you said. The bruise on his face was getting pretty bad and purple.

He grabbed your waist. “No, no. Stay. Stay right here”

“Okay” you said.

His face was rubbing your breasts and he let out a content moan. “Yes. Just stay still” he said with a smirk.

You laughed. “You perv”

He laughed and you grabbed his hair, lifting him from your chest.

“You’re fine. Come on” you said, getting up, offering your hands. He took them and stood up.

Felix smiled at you and dropped a long kiss to your lips.

“Let’s go Rocky” you whispered.

---------------

Day 4

Felix was planning a tranquil evening, to sit on his couch, watch the Knicks game and relax in his apartment with you. He decided that he was going to cook real nice for the both of you.

A knock startled his cooking and went to open the door.

“Come in, it’s open!” he yelled.

You got inside and smiled at him. “Hello, Lixie-Boo” you said.

He looked at you and his eyes widened. You were wearing a pretty baby blue dress. “Wow, you look gorgeous” he said.

“Thank you, sweet pea” you squealed and dropped a kiss to his cheek.

You looked at the table and saw the candles, the music in the background making it more nice than it already was.

You gasped. “Oh, honey. This is… too much, I love it” you said.

“Great! Dinner will be ready in five minutes. Go ahead and pour the wine” he said.

“I got you a couple of gifts” you said evilly. You opened the box you brought with you and inside laid a couple of teddy bears and a picture of you with the caption: you’re my, my, my, my lover.

His eyes widened. “Oh… yay” he said. What the hell is all this stuff? Is she quoting Taylor Swift to me?

“Here are two teddy bears. One of them says #1 lover because you are” you said pinching his cheek. “They’re called Lixie and Y/N. Oh! Like us” you said in a baby voice. “And then this picture of me, with Lover from T-Swift lyrics. Do you like it?” you asked.

Felix coughed. “Y-yeah, baby. Love’em” he lied. You kissed him and smiled.

“You’re so sweet. I’m gonna drop these in your room, wait up” you said.

Felix sighed once you were gone, wiping his face with his hands.

In his room, you barely contained your laughter but you tried to keep it down. Poor guy.

The Knicks game was on the TV and was about to start. Felix put the big tray of food and opened the lid. Inside was meat with veggies on it, a very nice decoration, and you hated to say, but you were impressed. Until an idea popped in the back of your head.

You pressed your lips together and let out a fake sob. “Oh, oh this is all my fault, Lix” you whispered, putting a hand over your chest.

He sat down next to you and his eyebrows furrowed. “What happened?” he asked, grabbing your hand.

“I’m– I’m a vegetarian” you sobbed. “It’s just that animal meat makes me sad” you said, fake tears escaping your eyes. The blonde sat frozen in his seat. “It’s-- it’s dead” you said.

He let out an irritated sigh. “I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t know” he muttered, shaking his head.

“It’s okay… this was beautiful. You’re beautiful” you said, wiping your fake tears and rubbing his cheek affectionately.

Later, you both found yourselves in a deli, eating veggie bowls, which Felix found disgusting, and making him completely miss the Knicks game.

You finished the food (who he labeled as cow-food), and he quickly ran to the TV to catch the Knicks game, only to find out it had already finished. He let out a grunt and dropped the remote on the couch. “Fuck” he sighed.

He let himself fall on the couch and you climbed over him, kissing the life out of him. Felix let out a surprised groan and grabbed your ass. You unbuttoned his shirt, a few buttons flying away. You couldn’t admit this to anyone, but you found him exciting.

He smirked against your lips and let his hands wander under your dress, letting his palms rest on your ass.

You wanted to up the game. “Does little Lix want to come out and play?” you groaned in his ear.

His eyes widened, while you kissed down his chest. “Uh, what?”

You lifted your head.

“Little Lix?” he asked, utterly confused.

“Well, we don’t know if he’s big or little, we’re gonna find out” you squealed and resumed kissing your way down to his crotch.

He lifted you up gently by your arm. “No, no. Baby. You can’t just… name my dick” he said with a frown.

Your eyebrows raised. “You… what are you saying? Do you want me to call it… big Lix? Cocky enough, baby?” you said in a baby voice. You almost laughed out loud at the look on his face.

“Uh… I’m-- big Lix is not ready to come out and play” he said, cringing at his own words.

You sighed with a smile. “Well, in that case. I better get going” you said and dropped a kiss to his lips. “Bye honey-bear”

When you were out the door, you snickered.

“It’s getting easier by the minute” you sing-songed with an evil laugh getting inside the elevator when a hand stopped the door from closing.

Felix smiled and got inside, grabbing your waist and lifting you up against the wall of the elevator, kissing you. His tongue got inside your mouth and tangled with yours. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist. “Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked against your lips.

You breathed in and licked your lips. “Yep”

“Well, call me” he pecked your lips and then he was out of the elevator.

You grimaced once you made sure he wasn’t looking. “What the hell? This ain’t getting easier”

You needed to up your game, immediately.

--------------

Day 5

The next day in Felix’s office, Hyunjin and Jisung were discussing how you were getting weirder by the time the relationship went on.

“Okay, I thought you said Y/N was a goddess after the Knicks game, little Lix” Hyunjin teased, earning a punch on the shoulder from the blonde.

He laughed. “Well, that was the good Y/N, the smart, cool and sexy woman I met. Not this crazy, evil side she’s showing” he said.

“Maybe she’s bipolar--” Jisung started.

“Muffin!”

The three guys turned around to find you with a dog in hand.

“Y/N baby” he smiled at you, standing up and walking towards you. “We were just talking about you. You are looking absolutely gorgeous” he said.

“Oh, good things I hope, right baby boo?” you cooed.

He pressed his lips together and nodded.

“These are my friends! Hyunjin and Jisung!” he said, pointing behind him and they waved at you.

You gasped. “Oh Lixie told me all about you guys”

“Lixie-Boo told all about you too” Hyunjin teased the blonde, who glared at him.

“Great, well look what I just got you” you sing-songed. “I got you a puppy! His name is… guess what?” you said, clapping your hands together.

He shrugged.

“Little Lix!” you squealed.

Jisung and Hyunjin snickered behind him.

He smiled and tried to think how the fuck he was going to survive six days more if this was going to keep up like this.

When he got home, he put Little Lix in the kitchen and put water and food ready for him. He grabbed his phone and saw his voicemail was full.

You got 17 new messages from Y/N Y/L/N.

“Oh shit” he said.

He listened to every single one of them and he face-palmed himself. This is getting even harder than I thought , he thought.

He got inside the bathroom to wash his face and opened the cabinet. He froze when he found a lot of feminine products and he closed it, turning around to find two toothbrushes and a lot of girly stuff scattered in the bathroom. Felix grabbed his hair and almost yelled out.

“Fucking shit”

-----------------

Day 6

“Girls, I’m telling you. He’s not leaving me“ you said, eating from your ice cream pint.

“Are you being clingy?” Karina asked.

You nodded. “Like a bitch, yeah. I even supplied his bathroom with girly stuff, some of them I don’t even use. Then I gifted him teddy bears and I baby talk to him. I’m whiny and needy? How is he not leaving me?” you asked.

The girls laughed and continued eating ice cream.

“Either way, I gotta think about something before tomorrow” you said.

Ryujin sat up. “Wait, why not tonight?”

“It’s Poker night with his friends” you said. “Boys night”

“You’re giving him boys night?” she asked.

“They do it every week” you shrugged.

“Before… he met… you” she said.

“Ryujin, I love you”

----------------

“Bunny! I’m home!” you said, startling his friends and him.

Felix turned around and his eyebrows furrowed. “Baby, what are you doing here?” he asked, sitting up and putting the blunt he was smoking, in a plate.

“I just… I figured I could stop by and kiss you a little bit, huh? Your friends don’t mind if I steal you for about… an hour or so?” you asked.

He laughed nervously. “Honey, I told you… boys night” he said.

You pretended to be offended. “You… don’t want to see me? Do you- Oh! You think I’m crazy!” you said.

Felix’s eyes widened. “I- No! I don’t think you’re crazy, baby. I just want a boys night with--”

“Oh, I’m sure it was an excuse to hook up with other girls, and oh! I’m sure there’s one hidden here, probably in your bathroom” you fake cried. “I’m out of here, Felix” you said and walked out the door.

He followed you with Little Lix barking behind him.

“Hey, hey, hey. What was all that?” he asked, making you turn around.

You pressed the elevator button and sighed. “What?”

“You acting like a freaking maniac” he said.

You gasped and the elevator dinged. “Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t be with someone who thinks I’m mental. Bye, Felix” you said and the elevator doors closed but he pressed the button so they opened them again.

”No wait. Where’s the fun, cool, beautiful and sexy Y/N I knew? Huh?” Felix asked. “The one who wanted to be a serious journalist? You’re acting insane, like one second you’re up then you’re down!” he said.

You pursed your lips. “So I guess we’re over” you shrugged your shoulders with a glare.

“Fine!”

“Fine” you said and the elevator door closed. You smiled in victory and then it quickly fell. What the hell is happening?

Back in Felix’s apartment, Jisung and Hyunjin almost tackled him. “You’re going back, apologize and get back together with her” Jisung said. “Five more days, man. And that’s it” he said.

“No, wait. Hey. You saw how she acted back there” he said.

“Yes, but if you really want the pitch, then you’re going back to her, apologize and be her little bitch for five. More. days” Hyunjin stated.

“Do you want Son and Park Chaeyoung to be comfortable in their new office? The one that should be ours?” Hyunjin digged.

“No, of course not!” Felix said. “But what do I do? What do I tell her!?”

“Couples therapy! Literally anything” Jisung said.

“Couples therapy?” Felix asked.

This was getting way out of hand.

“Yes, now go!” Hyunjin patted his back and pushed him.

He sprinted off running to the stairs, jumping from three to three. He got to the door just in time when you got out of the building.

“Y/N! Y/N! Wait, baby boo” he said, cringing at his choice of words. “Forgive me, please. I don’t- I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry” he said, kneeling on the ground.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. What the hell was this guy’s problem and why the hell why was he not running away from her?

“Can you give me another chance?” he asked, puppy eyes on.

“Haven’t you had enough?” you asked ironically, but you really meant it this time.

“I’m willing to do anything, Y/N. Please” he said, opening his arms.

You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, making him stand up, kind of embarrassed that anyone walking down the street could see him like that.

“Like, what do you think about… couples therapy?” he asked.

A light bulb turned on in your brain. Couples therapy, huh?

“Oh, Felix. I know a therapist who’ll do wonders with you. When shall we start?” you said, intrigued about his request.

He nodded. “Tomorrow. Whenever you want” he said, desperately. “Whatever it takes”

“A kiss?” you pouted.

“Thank you, sweetheart” he said and kissed you almost making you tumble at how hard he kissed you. You had to admit, he was one hell of a kisser. “Thank you for understanding”

“Yeah, no problem, baby boo. But you’re still on probation” you said and walked away. “What the fuck did I get myself into?” you whispered to yourself.

---------------

Day 7

“If we’re really doing this, you’ll have to open up, Felix. You hear me?” you whined when you reached the ‘therapist’ apartment.

“Yeah, of course”

You knocked on the door and Karina appeared, wearing a white pajama pants and a shirt, with big ass glasses and a bun. “Y/N Y/L/N, and Felix Lee. Come in” she said with a formal voice.

Your eyebrows wiggled and tried not to laugh. You grabbed Felix’s hand and sat him down on the couch.

“So, before we start. I wanted to ask you how you were gonna pay for this session?” she asked.

You patted Felix’s back. “Sweetie?”

“Uh, yeah. How much is it?” he asked, grabbing his wallet from his jean pocket.

“Three hundred dollars the hour” she said calmly.

His eyes almost bulged out of his school when he heard the price that fell from Karina’s lips. Felix cleared his throat and reached for his wallet. Whatever it takes, then the pitch is yours. He handed Karina the bills and she cleared her throat.

“So, tell me, you guys. How long have you been seeing each other?” she asked.

“Seven days” you replied with a smile.

“Isn’t it too soon to be seeing a therapist?” Felix asked calmly.

You smiled at him. “Well, it isn’t a lifetime but it is--”

“It’s like a week” he said.

You fake gasped and looked at Karina. “Do you hear that tone? How can we not need a therapist when you’re snapping at me like that every goddamn second!” you said rather loudly.

Karina nodded. “How are things between you… I mean… sexually” she digged.

You laughed a little. “Oh, about that… he has a little problem” you said, winking at Karina. “If you know what I mean”

He shook his head. “No, Y/N. Wait. We haven’t had sex yet” he said. “And I don’t have a problem”

“Yes you do”

“No, no I don’t”

“Okay, okay. Look, the one night that we even thought about having sex you called my dick little Lix, or- or big Lix” he said, turning completely to face you. “Without even seeing it!”

“I thought it was beautiful” you said, close to fake crying.

“I see, Felix” Karina said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “When was it that you first realized you were attracted to other men?”

You had to contain your laugh at this. “Oh, it… that’s serious” you agreed.

“What? No! I love women, why-- okay. No, that it’s clearly not what happened” Felix stammered irritatedly.

“I’m hearing a lot of anger that’s been swirling inside of you for a long time, Felix” Karina said, folding her hands together.

You gasped. “Like a rage-aholic”

“No, I’m not a rage-aholic” he shouted.

“Take a deep breath, sweetie” you said, putting your hand on his arm.

“I gotta ask you this one question” Karina said. “Are you ashamed of Y/N?”

He was taken aback by the sudden question.

“Of course he is” you said.

“No, I’m not ashamed of you, Y/N” he said, putting a hand on your back.

Karina cleared her throat. “Then why don’t you… take her to meet your family, for example?” she suggested. You wanted to kill her.

Felix nodded. “Yeah, let’s go do that. You can meet my whole family, let’s go to Staten Island, you can meet them” he smiled.

“Would you like to go to Staten Island?” Karina asked you.

No! Of course not!

“Yes”

-----------------

Day 8

He parked his bike in the driveway of his family house and you were greeted by his mother once you got inside of the house.

“Oh hello, Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you!” her mother appeared with a baby in her arms.

“ Bullshit! ” you heard from the patio.

“My dad and uncles play cards every hour of the day” Felix laughed.

“ Bullshit! ” you heard again.

“You are as pretty as Felix described you on the phone the other--”

“Mom!” Felix whined.

You laughed and shook her hand. “Well, the pleasure is mine, Ms. Lee” you said.

“ Bullshit! ”

“Sweetie!” she scolded over her shoulder. “Excuse me honey, I gotta make my husband shut up for a little bit, here” she said and handed Felix the baby he was holding, who you assumed was his cousin.

Felix grabbed him happily and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at the sight of him holding a baby.

“I’m gonna get him cleaned up, you go out back” he said and dropped a kiss to your lips and then he was gone.

You took a deep breath and went out to the patio, finding who you assumed was his dad and his uncles. His mother saw you and dropped the cards on the table. “Everyone! Guys, everybody meet Y/N, our Felix’s girl!” she squealed.

His dad smiled and shook your hand. “Well, Felix described you as ‘beautiful’ but his words weren’t enough” he complimented you.

You blushed a little and giggled. “Well thank you, Mr. Lee”

“No worries, honey” Mr. Lee winked.

After they introduced you to the whole family, they gave you a couple of cards to play with them.

“The game is called ‘Bullshit’ as you may have heard. And we’re just in the lightning round, sweetie, you came just in time” Mr. Lee said.

Felix suddenly came in and smiled. “Well look at this. I’m gonna beat everyone’s asses, including yours baby” he winked at you, sitting down and grabbing himself some cards.

“I don’t really know how to play”

“Well, here’s the trick. You have to get rid of all the cards in your hand” His dad said.

You nodded and looked at your cards.

“Alright I’m gonna throw and say I have two aces. What do you say?” his dad asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at your cards in hand, noticing you had three aces, which meant he could only have one. “I say bullshit”

“What did you say?” he smiled.

“I say… bullshit!” you said and everyone around you cheered.

After a couple of rounds where everyone except Felix was helping you out to win just to make him lose, you found yourself having fun, more than you had expected and more than the fun you’ve got this couple of months. The feeling was strange.

“Okay, I’ve got two kings”

You looked around and his family shook their heads. Felix caught them cheating and gasped.

“You all are cheating!” he said, making all of you laugh. “Baby! That’s treason!” he laughed.

You just laughed at him and showed him your cards. “Yep. But I won!”

“And that makes him have the lowest score out of all of us in Bullshit thanks to you, for the first time ever! I say we expect you to come here sooner” his mom said, standing up and drawing his score on a chalkboard.

You laughed. “Why? Were all his other girlfriends Bullshit losers?” you asked, sipping on your drink.

“What other girlfriends? He’s the first girl he’s ever brought home” her mom said and hugged you.

First girl he’s ever brought home? You felt special. You hated to admit it, but it was true.

“Don’t you break his heart” she whispered with a little smile and walked away.

It’s a little too late for that now.

-----------------

After the game, Felix offered to take you for a ride to meet the island on his bike. You accepted, and the blonde took you everywhere. For ice cream, for lunch, to walk in the park, down the port, everywhere. He even taught you how to ride his bike. You couldn’t help it but you felt the butterflies kicking your stomach everytime he smiled or looked at you. And he felt the same. He felt at peace that the fighting and craziness was over for good.

At a certain hour, it started to rain, soaking you from head to toe. You arrived at his home, you rode the bike while he was behind you.

He got you inside of the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

“Alright madam, let’s have a shower, what do you say?“ he asked and turned on the hot water.

You nodded and sat on the sink, thinking about why the hell did you accept to do this to this guy. He was perfect and so good with you. If you ever told him the truth, he’d hate you, and you’d lose him.

“You can shower first if you want” he said, drying his hand with a towel.

You bit your lip and sighed.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, putting his hands on your legs, his eyes finding yours.

You smiled at him, caressing his cheek. “It’s more than okay” you said in a low voice.

He kissed your palm and pinched your leg a little. “Then tell me what’s wrong. You don’t seem okay”

You let out a breath. “I think… when your mother hugged me today, like… she really hugged me” you said, your eyes getting teary. “For winning a game at Bullshit. Like I was a part of the family” you said, a tear flowing down your cheek.

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed and he put a hand on your cheek. “But that’s a good thing, baby. Smile for me” he said with a little grin, poking your cheek with his pointer finger.

You smiled for him and his grew bigger. Your noses were almost touching and it confirmed for the both of you. Both bets were a huge mistake.

He brought your head closer to his and kissed your lips. You pulled away and searched for something in his eyes, something that would give you a red flag. You found just a glint and lust in his eyes. You kissed him again, opening your mouth for his tongue to come inside your mouth and sighed at the feeling.

Felix pulled away and you lifted your hands up, so that he could take your shirt off. He complied and saw that you weren’t wearing a bra. His eyes darkened and you hopped off the counter to take his shirt too.

You dropped it to the ground and then went to unbuckle his jeans while he did the same to yours. He pushed your panties to the ground and he pushed his underwear, too.

Felix grabbed your thighs, hoisting you up, making your legs wrap around his torso and kissed you again. He got inside the shower and pressed you against the cold tiles. His mouth on yours felt heavenly, and with every brush of his tonguey you got more and more wetter by the second.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful” he whispered against your neck. He kissed a couple of hickeys on it and then came back to your mouth.

If anyone walked past the bathroom, they would’ve heard the breathy moans the two of you emitted and the slapping of skin on skin sound. Once you came and he did on your stomach, you stayed staring at each other. Guilt was in his eyes, thinking that you, a beautiful woman he had managed to fall in love with, and probably she did as well, was part of a stupid bet to get a stupid pitch.

You dropped your forehead on his and sighed with a smile. “That was amazing, Lix. Little Lix down there wasn't so little, huh?” you joked, making him laugh out loud.

“Well, what can I say? I’m full of surprises” he said.

You got down and you washed each other. As his arms came around you from behind and you couldn’t help but feel like shit.

If only he knew.

In the meantime, Felix rested his chin on your shoulder, leaving a little peck on your skin. He closed his eyes as soon as his lips touched you, feeling the guilt and regret wash over him.

He didn’t know how he was going to tell you, but there was one thing he knew it was certain: he didn’t deserve you.

At least, that’s what he thought.

------------------

Day 9

The ferry arrived at Manhattan and he drove his bike back to your home. He got down from the bike and walked you to the building entrance.

“Well, this is home” you said, dropping his hand.

He nodded and smiled at you. “Uh, Y/N? I wanted to ask you back at Staten but uh… my boss is throwing this party for the diamond account I was telling you about and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? You know… as my date?” Felix asked, clearly nervous. “As my girlfriend” he stated.

You smiled at him and put your hand on his cheek. “Are you calling me your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I am” he said, sure of himself.

You pressed your lips together. “Tomorrow will be the tenth day of seeing each other.”

“I know” he said with a sigh. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow huh?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Should I dress fancy?” you asked.

“As fancy as you want… but still fancy” he said.

You nodded. “Perfect” you pressed a kiss to his lips and when you pulled away, you hugged him. He felt so good. You didn’t want to let him go just yet, or tell him what you were doing, or him to find out via the magazine.

As you pulled away, he kissed your head and let you go inside.

“Bye” you blew him a kiss.

“Bye”

---------------

Day 10 - final day-

You barged inside Seulgi’s office with a very worried face on you. You let out a breath and sat down on the couch.

“Seulgi? I can’t- I can’t write this article” you stated.

Her eyebrows furrowed and sat down on her chair. “What? Why not? Is your computer broken or something? Figure it out”

“No, it’s not that” you said. “I just… I’ve got to know this guy. He’s amazing. He doesn't deserve this, I really like him, Seulgi. Please” you pleaded.

“Okay. Who’s the boss here?”

“You” you sighed.

“Then you write what I tell you to write. And that means the article” she said strictly, not even bothering to look at you while she was paging down a magazine. “You’ll do the article, because you are a professional. That’s what professionals do”

“Yes I am” you whispered.

“Great. Now go. I want the article in less than 48 hours”

-----------------

The night fell and Felix arrived at your house. He was wearing a fancy tux, but he managed to keep it a little less formal. He took a deep breath and cracked his neck. Felix grabbed his phone and sent you a text.

Lix: I’m here xx

He blushed at the thought of you on a fancy dress. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket.

You: be right down. Wait up xx

His heart picked up speed when he heard the door of your building opening. You stood there with a yellow fancy dress with an open cut back. You did a little twirled and took a second to admire him. He was so beautiful, it hurt your eyes.

The chauffeur from his car smiled at the interaction.

“Hey” you said timidly.

He just stared, he couldn’t believe you were his.

“Wow, you are so beautiful” he said, pressing a kiss to your lips.

You blushed and ran your fingers through his hair. “You’re looking good too, sparky” you said putting your arm around his and getting inside the car.

Once you reached the museum, you could only gawk at how much diamonds were used for this party. It almost hurt your eyes.

“Wow, okay. This wasn’t what I expected at all” you said, looking up only to find a very big, sparkly chandelier.

Felix nodded, chuckling at your face. “You should come more often to these things with me”

You gasped and elbowed him. “What? So you can see me with a fancy dress more often?”

He shrugged. “Maybe” he teased, making you laugh.

Hyunjin and Jisung appeared wearing very formal suits and they waved at you. “Hey guys” you said.

“Oh, great. Stay with them, I’ll go grab us some champagne” he said, kissing your cheek.

You smiled at him and watched him leave while Jisung told an incredibly boring story of how he managed to get a date.

“Uh, guys. I’ll go sit by the table, there are some snacks there. If you’ll excuse me” you said, and excused yourself, really not wanting to deal with those noisy boys.

Hyunjin and Jisung stood watching you when they felt hands on their shoulders. The Chaeyoung’s were staring at them with an evil grin on them.

“News for you guys” Son Chaeyoung said.

They looked at each other. “We don’t want to deal with you snakes today” Jisung said.

Park Chaeyoung scoffed. “I just wanted to let you guys know that we know that Felix cheated” she said.

Hyunjin’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean cheated?” he asked in a monotone voice.

“We know he told this girl about the bet even before they started dating” Park Chaeyoung said.

Jisung and Hyunjin looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“We’ll go tell Mr. Park if you don’t hurry up” Son Chaeyoung said, and then, they were gone.

“Shit, we gotta do something” Jisung said.

They ran to the table you were sitting and sat down next to you, startling you mid-eating a snack. You furrowed your eyebrows at their state.

“Hey, Y/N. We know you know about the bet. Okay? And we need you to play dumb when Mr. Park asks you if you fell in love with Felix” Hyunjin said.

Your stomach dropped. A bet? What bet? You were about to ask until it dawned in you. This was all a bet. Felix made a bet, in which he had to make you fall in love with him (in which he succeeded).

“A bet?” you asked in a small voice.

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, the bet… you know, he’d get the pitch if you fell in love with him” he said.

You played dumb. “Of course” you faked a smile. Internally you were just trying to keep the tears to yourself.

Meanwhile…

Felix was heading to their table when Kang Seulgi intercepted him.

“Hello Felix. What a pleasure it is to see you” she said with a smile.

He nodded and smiled at the elderly woman. “Yeah, nice to see you too. I gotta head back to my table, there’s this beautiful woman waiting for me-- right there” he said with a smug grin and pointed at you.

Seulgi perked up and gasped. “Y/N? Oh she’s my How-To girl in Composure” she said.

“Your How-To girl?” he asked confusedly.

“Yes. Right now she’s working on an article called How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days” she said and his smile visibly dropped. You were just using him for… an article? Her laugh made him come back from his thoughts. “This poor guy she’s been pretending to date-- wait, she’s actually dating this guy trying to scare him off by making mistakes girls do when--” when she saw the face that Felix and she stopped talking, realizing he was the guy you were dating. “Oh… oh, I’m sorry” she whispered and excused herself.

He pressed his lips together and downed his champagne glass. He saw you getting up from your chair, grabbed your purse and headed for the exit. Felix followed you, steam flying out of his ears.

When you reached the street you heard his shouting. “No, no, no. Y/N Y/L/N get back here” he said.

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him.

“You used me! Just to get a stupid fucking pitch! You played with my feelings, you made me believe you actually care about me” you yelled at him.

Your words would’ve hurt him if he wasn’t angry enough about the article thing.

“I used you? You drove me insane for that article from your stupid magazine, okay?” he said angrily.

“You told people you could make me fall in love with you, like I’m just some random girl that needed saving, you backstabbing jerk” you said, hitting him with your purse.

Felix stood, pressing his lips together, figuring out what to say next. “So that was what I was, huh? A stupid guinea pig you could use for your experiments?”

“Yeah and I was just some girl you picked up from a bar because you feel bad for her, sitting all alone with a drink in her hands” you said more calmly.

He chuckled ironically. “Well, you did it. Good job. You wanted to see if you could lose a guy in 10 days, congratulations. You just lost him” he said, and turned away from you.

“No, I didn’t, Felix”

He turned back to face you.

“Because you can’t lose what you never had” you cried out.

He watched as you turned away and called a cab. His heart was hurting so much. Felix took a shaky breath in and headed back to the party.

---------------

Day 11

“Well, this wasn't what I was expecting” Seulgi said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “But it’s better” she said gladly.

You chuckled and smiled at her. “I’m glad you like it”

“Now this is my time to free you from my leash. You can write whatever you want now” she said, putting your recently printed article in a folder.

Your eyebrows perked up at her saying. “That means I can write like… about politics, economics, religion, or--”

“No, Y/N. Whatever you want means what Composure is about, shoes, dramas, what’s new in Oscar de La Renta’s new dresses, you get what I mean” Seulgi said, flicking her wrist at you.

This wasn’t what you expected. Writing an article about a guy you did end up falling in love with wasn’t even worth it. In the end, Kang Seulgi had tricked you into making you write whatever she wanted.

You nodded and sighed. “Thank you for the opportunity, Seulgi” you said slowly. She smiled at you. “And thank you for making it easier for me to turn it down” you said, heading for the door. “My resignation letter will be arriving at your mail very soon” you said and then you were out of the door, leaving Seulgi shocked to her very core.

-------------------

Felix was in his office, Little Lix in his arms and he let out a sigh, looking at the Knicks game he did not attend. The tickets were laying on his desk, he had planned to give them to you after the party but that did not end up well.

A knock on his door startled him. “Hey, my man. I’ve got something for you” Hyunjin said, sitting down on a chair.

He saw it was a Composure magazine and he let out a sigh.

“I’m not gonna read that”

“No, you should” he said. Felix just shook his head and dropped Little Lix on the floor. “Okay. You win. I’ll read it to you” Hyunjin said and Felix was about to protest but he held his hands up. “ I’ve lost a guy. And I don’t know why. What went wrong? When I started writing this month’s column, I wanted to commit those certain silly dating mistakes we all commit at some time. But what I didn’t realize was that I was making the biggest mistake of my life ” he said, he lifted his eyes to watch the blonde, who was looking at the floor, with glassy eyes. “Here, read it. Trust me” he said, dropping the magazine on his desk and then he was out of his office.

He sighed and grabbed it, turning to the page where your article was. He started reading and he noticed some important lines: “ I lost the only guy I’ve ever fallen for ”; “ Best 10 days of my life ”, and one that he wasn’t expecting at all. “ This is my last article for Composure ”

His eyebrows furrowed and an idea popped in his head.

A few minutes later, he was running down Composure’s office asking everyone where the hell was your office located. He won a few glares from most of the girls but right now, he didn’t give a fuck.

He found it, and noticed it was empty. Fucking shit, Felix internally cursed. He saw a woman standing right next to her office.

“Excuse me, Ma’m” he said.

Ryujin turned around abruptly. “Holy crap. You’re Felix”

“I know. Tell me where’s Y/N” he said urgently.

“She quit” Karina appeared from behind him.

He turned around and noticed a familiarity with the girl.

“She’s got an interview right now, in Washington” Ryujin said.

“When?”

“Like, right now. She’s leaving right now” Ryujin said, checking her watch.

He turned to leave but not before he turned to face Karina. “You’re not a therapist aren’t you?”

She looked confused until she burst out laughing. “No, I’m not”

“Good job. You owe me 300 dollars”

----------------

You leaned your head on the taxi window, letting out a sigh, thinking about the events that took place that week. You knew that Composure wasn’t the best option for you since Seulgi had always done the same shit over and over again, making you think you could write about something more interesting than fashion and then taking your emotion with her. You rubbed your forehead and allowed yourself to think about Felix. There wasn’t a time that you didn’t regret what happened, but looking at the other side, he made a bet too.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you reached the Brooklyn bridge and saw someone riding a very familiar bike, wearing a very familiar helmet. Oh shit, that’s Felix.

“Sir, please pull over” Felix yelled.

You gasped at the scene. “What-- Felix? What are you doing?” you yelled. “Sir, pull over please?”

“Are you crazy, woman? We’re in the middle of the bridge” the chauffeur said.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not feeling well, I think I’m about to puke”

“Alright, you win” he grumbled.

You got out of the car and saw him pulling the helmet over his head. “What the fuck is this Felix?” you yelled at him.

He sighed and handed you the magazine.

“Is it true?” he asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Dammit, Y/N, what you wrote in the magazine. Or were you just trying to sell a magazine?”

“I meant every word, Felix” you said, your eyes getting teary. “But that doesn’t change anything, does it?”

“It does, and you’re running away” he said.

“I’m not!” You yelled out in a high-pitched voice.

“Yes, you are. To Washington” he said.

You rolled your eyes, pinching your eyebrows. “Yes, but it’s an interview. Besides, what do you care?”

Felix was taken aback by it. “What do I care? I fucking love you Y/N. But I need to be sure it’s true”

“I already told you. It’s true and I… I love you too, Felix. But--” you said-

“But what?” he asked, stepping closer to you.

“I can’t write here. I applied for a job where I know I can write about whatever the fuck I want without a bitch that tells me I need to write what it’s accord to my gender” you said, and turned away to get back to the taxi.

“Bullshit”

You stopped in your tracks. “Excuse me?”

“Bullshit. You heard me” he said, stepping closer to you.

You couldn’t move. He reached until your noses were practically touching. He handed a couple of bills to the taxi driver and told him to send your bags back to your apartment.

“You’re having alternate transportation from now on” he said.

You sighed and looked at him, your eyes watery.

“Really? Are you serious?” you asked with a broken chuckle.

“You bet I am” he said and put his hands on your face, bringing you to a passionate kiss. You melted on it and put your arms around his neck, sighing into it. You felt complete. Finally. “I love you, so much” he said against your lips, letting his nose rub against yours.

“I love you, I love you, I love you” you mumbled, each ‘i love you’ with a kiss.

“Okay, so are you two gonna let me drive back to the ladies apartment or what?” the taxi driver grumbled, making you two laugh.

You couldn't believe how perfect this moment was. How it all started with a bet and an article that was meant for you two to find each other.

Fin.

-----------------------

i hope you liked it :) there are more Felix's fics coming in, i've been pretty busy

#stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz smut #skz imagines #felix x reader #felix x female reader #lee felix x reader #lee felix #skz felix #skz x felix #felix #felix lee #lee felix smut #felix smut #felix fluff #how to lose a guy in 10 days

292 notes · View notes

n0vazsq · 1 month ago

Text

Pas de Deux | KR7 x Reader

pairing . . . young!kimi raikkonen x ballerina!reader

summary . . . When Kimi falls in love with a ballerina, he's invited into a dance of two (or, a pas de deux)

request . . . kind of?

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . minimal swearing! story is set in 2024 with the current 2024 grid but kimi pics are from the 2000s!! there wont be a lot of f1 comments so you can feel free to imagine whatever team kimi is in! kimi is like in his early 20s so the reader is 20-24! lets just pretend he was born sometime between 1999 and 2003

faceclaim . . . random ballerinas from pin!

alexavia yaps . . . I LOVE PAS DE DEUX ITS MY FAV CLQSSIC SONG AHHHHHH anyway i hope you guys like thsi!!!!!! i legit dk anything about ballet so IM SO SORRY IF ANYTHING IS WRONG!!

taglist . . . @barcapix (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

ballerinayn

liked by yourbsf, maxverstappen1, kimiraikkonen and 741k others

ballerinayn loved dancing in monte carlo to my favourite song today! well done to all the other ballerinas and see you in a few weeks! thanks to my amazing friend maxverstappen1 for attending!

click to view all comments

username MOTHER IS BACK!!!!!

username i can't wait to see her performance next week my friend got me tickets omg

username WHAT?? THATS SO LUCKY OMGG

username MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER

username why tf does she have half the f1 grid in her likes??

username shes friend with max, lando, charles, alex and pretty much every driver that lives in monaco

username doesnt kimi live in switzerland??

username yeah idk why hes in the likes

maxverstappen1 great performance y/n! you did so well!

ballerinayn tysm maxie!!

username SHES BACKKKK

username gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous omg

username we're so back

username SHES MY IDOL I GOT INTO BALLET BC OF HER

username my wife guys back off

kimiraikkonen Beautiful.

username YALLL KIMI RAIKKONENS COMMENT

username KIMIS COMMENT???

balletdemontecarlo

liked by ballerinayn, yourbsf, ballerina1 and 1.3M others

balletdemontecarlo could you spot the famous ballerinayn in today's pas de deux? 👀

click to view all comments

ballerinayn thank you for letting me perform on this amazing stage! such a great honour!

balletdemontecarlo it was our pleasure to see you perform!

yourbsf that's my best friend right there guys 🥹

ballerinayn i saw you in the crowd and almost broke character from happiness ❤

ballerina1 our swan queen 🦢

ballerinayn you did amazing out there!!

username who else cried when y/n was spun around by that guy??

username this was so emotional you guys

username SO PROUD OF MOTHERR

maxverstappen1 good job y/n!

ballerinayn aww thank you max <33

kimiraikkonen Loved the show. Come to watch a grand prix?

ballerinayn omg kimi!! im such a big fan 🥹🥹 so glad you loved the show!! and ofc ill come to a gp ❤ just contact my team with the details!

kimiraikkonen VIP tickets will be sent shortly after.

username KIMI?? I WAS NOT AWARE OF THIS RIZZ

username HELP NOT KIMI ASKING Y/N OUT IN THE COMMENT SECTION??

username i died shes so pretty

username no bc i fell to my knees watching this at home

username how to see mother y/n perform for free??

username try not to simp for y/n challenge: impossible

ballerinayn

liked by kimiraikkonen, yourbsf, f1wags and 891k others

ballerinayn thank you kimi for inviting me to the monaco grand prix!! really enjoyed it <3 and congrats on the podium! tagged: kimiraikkonen

click to view all comments

kimiraikkonen Glad you enjoyed!

ballerinayn <3

username KIMI SHOWING EMOTIONS?? THE EXCLAMATION MAKR??? THE HEART?? IM DEAD

username hear me out.... y/n x kimi

username HEARD

charlesleclerc so no congrats for me on the win?

ballerinayn SORRY CHARLIE I FORGOT

charlesleclerc betryal of the century right here

username the camera panning over to y/n every time kimi overtook im crying

username guys they have so much chemistry they must be a couple

username WHYYY HIM

username have you seen kimi???

username have you SEEN Y/N????

username MY WIFE GONE TO A MAN??

username its over for us </3

username yall delusional asl they legit could js be friends

username jS bE fRiEnDs

username f1 really ships them

username i NEED them to confirm or hard launch or ill kms

username FRRR LIKE THEY BETTER DO IT BEFORE I KILL MYSELF

kimiraikkonen

liked by ballerinayn, yourbsf, charlesleclerc and 2.3M others

kimiraikkonen Monaco.

click to view all comments

username these pics are WAYYY too aesthetic for kimi to have taken them

username i know this style of photography.....i see you ballerinayn

username THE FLOWERS??? WHOS THE PERSON>????

username THE PICS SCREAM Y/N YALL ARE NOT SLICKKKKKK

username idk who this guy is i just came because of mother y/n

username we need the gossip pages to track them down

f1waggossip on it 🫡

username THE WAY I SAW HIM WITH A GIRL WHILE WALKING WiTH MY MOM BUT I COULDNT SEE HER FACE ONLY THE BACK OF HER HEAD </3 BUT KIMI LOOKED SO HAPPY HE WAS SMILING AND YAPPING

username guys guys guys GUYSSSSSS charles posted a story and in the bg were kimi and y/n like talking and laughing and shi and he deleted like after 3 mins

username theyre friends??

username i hate this new couple

username DONT TORTURE JUST HARD LAUNCH

yourbsf 👀

username WHAT ARE YOU DOING HEREEEEE

username not yourbsf exposing their asses LMFAOOOOO

username man i love y/ns bsf

username "thank you yourbsf" we say in unison

username bro yall are so annoying like a girl cant even comment on her bsfs boyfriends post??

username didnt y/n and kimi kiss after his podium or did i forget to take my pills

username its the latter but i wish it was the former

ballerinayn

liked by yourbsf, maxverstappen1, kimiraikkonen and 822k others

ballerinayn rainy days around monaco with him>>>>>

click to view all comments

username WHOMST

username y/n pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee tell us who it is

username THE SWANS?? THE ARCHITECTURE?? THE STAR???

username reason of death: bitch ass y/n l/n and her sneaky ahh soft launches

username this is so her coded i cant

maxverstappen1 where was my invite?? lost in the mail??

ballerinayn maxie waxie axie you told me specifically "y/n if you ever invite to third wheel ill chop your arms off and use them as a table stand" so i think you didnt want to come <3

maxverstappen1 i-thats on me

ballerinayn it is it is

username oh so shes rich RICH 🤑🤑🤑 mommy y/n i need a sugar mommy 🥺

ballerinayn sorry that position is taken by pretty boy xx

username Y/N 😡

yourbsf 👀👀👀

ballerinayn what are you eye fucking

yourbsf you

yourbsf and charles

charlesleclerc ?????

username mother y/n feed us some soft launch crumbs

username QUEEN MOTHER MS SWAN Y/N COOKED THIS POST UP ONG ONG 🙏🔥

username if kimi posts like a similar typa thing theyre together

username im a f1 fan who came for the dating rumors but i mightve actually fell in love with y/n like imma full on start watching ballet for her

f1wagsss_

liked by waggossip, kimifanpage1, ynnlove82 and 391k others

f1wagsss_ f1 driver kimi raikkonen and ballerina y/n l/n reportedly seen together yesterday. do you think it really is them or is this from a fake source?

click to view all comments

username REAL REAL REAL REAL I WANT IT TO BE REAL PLS BE REAL I BEG FOR IT TO BE REAL

username ain't no way

username this must be photoshopped bc wtf how do they even know each other??

username so nice of you to intrude into people's private love lives!!

username i ❤ you for saying this

username MY GOATS ARE TOGETHER OH MY GOD

username its legit a dream come true if it is actually real

username they werent even trying to hide it oml

username WHEN WILL THEY CONFIRM

username STOP playing with usss

username i don't need any more pics i know what's going on

username i'm so delusional to think that this is real <3

(guys click on the second tweet bc its long so it doesnt show)

wags.international

liked by waggossip, f1wagsss_, teaa.f1 and 791k others

wags.international its official! f1 driver kimi raikkonen and ballerina y/n l/n were spotted on their date night in spain! will they deny or confirm their relationship? only time will tell....

click to view all comments

username why is the caption so mysterious 💀

username "confirm or deny" LMFAOOO WHAT IS IT A PASS TO ENTER A COUNTRY??

username yall hating on this gossip page harder than the others whyy 💀💀

username the caption 💀💀 and the fact that they used to hate on y/n when there were some rumors that she was dating max

username OMG OMG OMG MY PARENTS

username KIMIYN MY NO.1 SHIPPP AHHHHHH

username mY GATS

username PIERRE AND YOUR/BSF/NAME IN THE LIKES???? HELP ME

username the switch up is INSANEEE

username can you explain why they used to hate on y/n?

username they called her some words like $lut and wh0re and they also called her a fame and gold digger even though shes literally famous and already rich. they also posted some weird pics of her from when she was younger and basically they got a lot of hate for it.

username so the hate is deserved?

username VERY deserved

username i see a repeat of 2022 i am going to rage so hard that i become a lawyer and sue them

username the history with gossip page is INSANEEEE

kimiraikkonen

liked by ballerinayn, yourbsf, maxverstappen1 and 3.4M others

kimiraikkonen The girlfriend. Rakastan sinua yli kaiken, kulta ❤ (I love you more than anything, darling) tagged: ballerinayn

click to view all comments

username LMFAOOOO THE CAPTION IS SO KIMI CODED

username SOFT KIMI SOFT KIMI SOFT KIMI I AM SHAKING

ballerinayn love you too <33 mwah mwah

kimiraikkonen 🥰

maxverstappen only y/n can do that to the iceman

ballerinayn what can i say i am a woman of many abilities

maxverstappen1 ew thats disguisting i didnt need to know that

charlesleclerc she meant NORMAL abilities you dirty thinking slug

ballerinayn lestappen forever this comment has been deleted

maxverstappen1 Y/N?!?!??!?! I SAW THAT

ballerinayn mb?

yourbsf take care of my best friend yeah?

kimiraikkonen I'd rather die than not do so.

ballerinayn IM CRYING I LOVE YOU BOTH SO SO SO MUCH

kimiraikkonen Honey please don't cry.

ballerinayn KIMI OMGGG SHHSHSHSHSHHS

username y/n having a meltdown over kimi like girl me too

username this is the best love story in the history of love stories

username im calling it theyre romeo and juliet

yourbsf

liked by ballerinayn, kimiraikkonen, maxverstappen1 and 1.7k others

yourbsf my best friend and her love sick boyfriend tagged: ballerinayn, kimiraikkonen

click to view all comments

yourfriend1 HELP not y/n getting a professienal pic and kimi's being whatever

yourbsf y/n would pose for me for hours and kimi literally ignores me until y/n tells him to notice me. he also rarely smiles around me i had to capture the moment quickly

yourfriend1 explains the shaky picture

username we need more kimiyn content from your/bsf/name

username this is so goals what

ballerinayn wow i look so good and kimi looks so pretty omg

yourbsf ofc you do youre not mother y/n for no reason

maxverstappen1 can you send that pic of kimi?

kimiraikkonen Max.

maxverstappen1 nevermind

maxverstappen1 WHY DOESNT yourbsf GET A DEATH GLARE AND I DO??

ballerinayn sorry max i love her and kimi loves who i love xoxo

maxverstappen1 are you saying you dont love me?

ballerinayn oops sorry?

maxverstappen1 you better be sorry

yourbsf now now kids settle down

username chaos is literally yourbsf's comment section

username parasocial relationship

ballerinayn

liked by yourbsf, kimiraikkonen, maxverstappen1 and 581k others

ballerinayn words could never describe how much I love you. you light up my life in a way nothing else can. every moment with you feels like home, mon ange. forever wouldn’t be enough to express what you mean to me, pretty boy. ❤️ tagged: kimiraikkonen

comments on this post have been limited

maxverstappen1 love you guys even tho i hate third wheeling

ballerinayn thanks maxie <3

charlesleclerc you two are very cute

ballerinayn so are you and alex!!

yourbsf as much as i hated you being taken away from me by a guy, kimi was the right one. i approve of him <3

ballerinayn ilysm <333

ballerina1 if he can do ballet invite for a pas de deux 👀

ballerinayn oh trust me i already taught him everything

kimiraikkonen And nothing ever will ever desrcibe by love for you

ballerinayn i love you so much

kimiraikkonen I love you more. Even more than my drink

ballerinayn <33

kimiraikkonen You're the love of my life, never forget that.

347 notes · View notes

fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 year ago

Text

Butter

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Main Masterlist }

Rating: None

Summary: What if Joel doesn't forget to buy himself a cake for his birthday? But by the time he remembers, all the bakeries in his neighbourhood are closed - except yours.

Warnings: No outbreak AU, pure fluff, mentions of baking and food, meet cute, some sexual tension but very mild stuff compared to my other fics, single dad!Joel being a sexy menace, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has an accent similar to Joel, very lightly edited, not my best work, but I'm in my writing for fun era 💁🏻‍♀️

Word count: 3.6k

Notes: It's here! This was an exercise in speed writing, and just putting words to paper without overthinking anything. I really enjoyed writing this sweet little piece, this is dedicated to @psychedelic-ink who has been the biggest cheerleader for this idea since day one. Happy birthday to our favourite single dad who never lived through a cordyceps outbreak ❤️

September 26, 2003 was supposed to be a good day.

It’s Friday, after all. Not that the weekend is relevant to you anymore, with Saturdays and Sundays being the busiest days for business. But you have a date for once tonight, and you’re determined to enjoy it.

If you can get the goddamn security shutter to close, that is.

Standing on your tiptoes, you pull futilely at the bottom of the metal shutter with both hands, but it refuses to budge. You lament the sweat seeping through the fabric of the nice dress you changed into, the hem reaching almost indecent heights on the back of your thighs where it’s climbed up. And you don’t have to look at your reflection to know that stress has already smudged the edges of the eyeliner you hurriedly painted on as soon as you got the last customer out the door.

You can be forgiven for not noticing the wash of yellow headlights over the windows of the shop front and the sound of rolling tyres as a truck pulls up on the curb outside the bakery, until a gravelly voice pipes up behind you alongside hurried footsteps.

‘Ma’am, please tell me you’re still open.’

You tap on the ‘Closed’ sign through the window without turning around, determined to wrangle the shutter into submission. ‘Bad luck buddy, come back tomorrow. We open at nine sharp.’

‘No I can’t, I’m so sorry, but I need a cake now.’

Curiosity turns your head, and over your shoulder, you find a broad-shouldered man in a dark tshirt and casual jeans standing a respectful four paces away. Under eyebrows sloping downwards in a pleading angle that matches the slant of his moustache, his warm and imploring eyes are on you.

‘I’m sorry, sir, but I really need to go,’ you say. ‘Can you give me a hand?’

‘Look, I’ll do you one better. I’ll fix the shutter for you for free - if you sell me a cake.’

You purse your lips, the prospect of saving on what looks like an inevitable repair bill tempting. ‘You can fix it?’

‘I’m a contractor,’ he replies, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a battered looking wallet. ‘Here’s my card, if you think I’m bluffin’.’

Miller & Associates is printed in bold across the top, and underneath, is presumably his name and cell number. Glancing up at him, you say, ‘Look, Mr. Miller, I really want to help, but I’m late for a date, and I’m all sold out of cakes today -’

‘I’ll take anything you got. Cupcakes, cookies, whatever you have left,’ he cuts in, then apologises in quick succession, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry to be so pushy - I’m not, usually - but I promised my daughter I’d bring something home, and by the time I remembered, this is the only place I could think of. Please.’

You feel the exact moment your resolve crack, and then fold like a goddamn lawn chair. What can you say, this contractor really knows how to work those puppy eyes, and you can never say no to a man who refuses to let their kid down.

Especially when the man looks like this.

Shooting off a text to your date to push back your dinner plans, you nod towards the door. ‘Alright. C’mon in, Mr. Miller.’

‘Nice place you got here,’ he remarks politely, hovering by the entrance as the fluorescent lights flicker on, his manners impeccably southern.

‘You don’t have to flatter me, I’ve already let you in,’ you joke, lips quirking at the way he flusters. ‘But I appreciate it. You been here before?’

When he smiles, you notice the corners of his eyes crinkle charmingly. ‘No, but I know I’ll be comin’ back.’

‘I wasn’t lying when I said I was out of ready-made cakes,’ you tell him, holding the door open to the kitchen so he can come in after you. ‘But I have some cake layers in the fridge so I can put together something fairly quickly.’

He ducks his head in a manner that tells you he’s not used to demanding things, and protests, ‘I don’t want to put you out. I meant it, if you just have some cupcakes or somethin’ -’

‘Listen, you promised your daughter a cake, didn’t you?’ you interrupt.

He shrugs. ‘Well, yeah I did -’

‘I’m guessin’ it’s for a birthday?’

He nods sheepishly. ‘It is.’

‘Well, as a baker, ‘mfraid I can’t let a cakeless birthday happen on my watch, Mr. Miller,’ you insist, opening the fridge door with a flourish. ‘Let’s see what we have here. Cake for three, I assume?’

‘Two, actually.’

Hopefully you’re as discreet as you think you are when your eyes drop to his left hand - his fourth finger is conspicuously ringless.

Interesting.

You hum, considering the mismatched options in your inventory. ‘It’s gonna be a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster of a cake, if you don’t mind. How does chocolate and vanilla layers with cookies and cream frosting sound?’

‘Sounds perfect,’ he answers without skipping a beat. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’

You shake your head, hands full of cake rounds wrapped in cling film as you nudge the fridge close. ‘Please, call me Bri, Mr. Miller.’

‘And you can call me Joel,’ he says in return. ‘Is Bri short for somethin’?’

Laying the cakes on the work surface, you reply, ‘Yeah, Bri for brioche, like the bread. It's a silly nickname.’

The single dad surprises you with a low whistle. ‘Can’t say I saw that comin’.’

You grin. ‘You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Joel.’

You don’t often have an audience while baking, and you find yourself talking Joel through the steps while you prep everything for assembly.

Swirling a spatula through the tub of buttercream you made earlier that day, you explain, ‘I just need to whip up some of this frosting so that it’s nice and soft for putting the cake together. You wanna help me break up some Oreos so we can make it cookies and cream?’

‘I’m all yours, chef,’ he says, one corner of his mouth curling into a teasing smile that has no business warming the apples of your cheek as it does. ‘Just tell me what to do.’

While your Kitchenaid whirrs to life, whipping air into the buttercream, Joel wields a rolling pin, smashing a generous helping of Oreos into crumbs in a Ziplock bag. The almost exaggerated care with which he moves speaks to inexperience in the kitchen, and you muse that either his kid makes up for it in that department, or they live off takeout.

Eventually, he picks up the bag and looks at you in a question. ‘I think I’m done?’

You smile and tap the lip of the mixing bowl. ‘That’s perfect. Why don’t you tip in the crumbs straight in here?’

Before you can step back to allow him space, Joel’s taken two strides towards you, and his arm brushes your shoulder when he lifts the bag and tilts the contents into the frosting. He’s warm and solid, and damnit, he smells good - like sawdust and sweat.

The thought comes to you unbidden - what a man.

There’s a lull, and only when you feel the weight of eyes on you do you realise that you missed his question.

‘Did you say somethin'?’ you squeak, embarrassed.

‘I said, is this ok?’ he repeats, nodding at the mixing bowl.

You nearly stumble over your words. ‘Yes, yes it’s perfect.’

He watches you closely, a touch of concern in his brown eyes. ‘You ok there, honey?’

‘Yup,’ you chirp, far too cheerfully. ‘Just need to mix it all up now -’

If you had your wits about you, you would stir in the crumbs first and set the machine on low. But this man somehow stole said wits by sheer proximity to you, and you accidentally start the Kitchenaid on high, an indignant yelp escaping you when Oreo dust flies aggressively out of the bowl along with a splatter of white buttercream that lands squarely on the front of your dark knit dress.

‘Oh shit!’ you cry out, frantically turning off the mixer. ‘Shit shit shit!’

Over your panicked mantra, Joel is calmness itself. ‘Hang on, honey, I gotcha.’

He makes a beeline towards the sink, grabbing a tea towel and wets it under the tap with a bit of dishwashing liquid. It all screams competent single dad, and you find yourself staring at his unfairly large hand, mapped with thick veins, holding out the damp towel for you to take.

‘Thanks,’ you stutter self-consciously, the tips of your ears hot while swiping at the stain. ‘That was a rookie mistake. I promise I’m actually a good baker.’

He gives you a wink to put you at ease. ‘Don’t worry, I believe you.’

Starting over, the mixer hums as it gently incorporates the Oreos until the buttercream is a speckled grey and doubled in volume. ‘Looks like it’s ready. You wanna taste, Joel?’

‘Sure,’ he says. ‘D’ya have a spoon or somethin’ for me?’

‘You can use your fingers,’ you reply, and it's too late to take it back.

You feel the back of your neck heating up when he shoots you a meaningful look, just a touch of mischief in the tilt of his lips.

‘Can I, now?’ he teases.

You try a nonchalant shrug that probably comes off as painfully awkward. ‘This batch is just for you, I won’t tell the health inspector if you don’t.’

Joel chuckles, his strong shoulders quaking. And so you watch, shamelessly, as he raises his right hand, index and middle fingers at the ready, before diving into the metal bowl, scooping up a generous dollop of buttercream. There’s a peek of his pink tongue when his plush lips part, and then he sucks his fingers into his mouth with a gratuitously loud moan, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

When he turns to you with a pained expression on his face, maintaining eye contact all the while licking an errant streak of frosting off the side of his middle finger, you gape at him for a whole five seconds before you manage to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth.

‘Good?’ you barely manage to squeak.

‘You betcha, honey,’ he declares, then adds, ‘Mind if I double dip?’

He doesn’t mean anything by it, you know it, but a hot flush runs through your body and you swallow thickly. ‘You can do whatever you want, cowboy.’

You don’t think you’re imagining the wicked glint in his answering stare - you’re getting yourself into trouble, and don’t you know it.

Clearing your throat, you attempt to thwart your mind's dangerous descent into the gutter by changing the subject. ‘So, I can do somethin’ really snazzy that I think your daughter would like - do you know what a piñata cake is?’

He shakes his head. ‘Sounds dangerous.’

‘Hardly,’ you chuckle. ‘It’s a cake filled with sprinkles, so when you cut into it, it’s a sprinkles surprise!’

He lets out a playful sigh of relief. ‘As long as there’s no whackin’ involved, it’s good by me.’

You gesture at him to follow you across the room. ‘And here’s the fun part - you get to choose the sprinkles.’

Joel whistles at the reveal of your compulsively organised sprinkles cabinet, each shelf sorted by colour, shape and size. He quips, ‘Is this what the inside of your brain looks like, honey?’

You grin. ‘Pretty much. What’s your daughter’s name?’

‘Sarah.’

‘What colour does Sarah like?’

‘Any and all shades of pink.’

‘I can work with that.’

Now that everything is ready and waiting on the work surface, you pull out a lazy Susan and plonk a cake board on top of it, dusting your hands dramatically. ‘Alright, Joel. Ready for the magic to happen?’

Making himself comfortable next to you, he leans on his elbows, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the way his tshirt stretches and strains over his back. ‘Go ahead, I’m ready to be impressed, honey.’

Filling a piping bag full of the cookies and cream buttercream, you ask, ‘You wanna get your hands dirty?’

He raises his palms in surrender. ‘I’ll leave it to you, I don’t want to make you any more late for your date.’

You’re used to working with much bigger cakes, so this one doesn’t take you long. With a cookie cutter, you carve out a small circle from each cake round, then you stack and fill the layers with buttercream. After loading the shaft in the middle with all manner of pink sprinkles, you stopper the top with the cake cut-outs.

‘How old is Sarah turning today?’ you ask conversationally while you spin the cake around, smoothing on the crumb coat.

Joel looks up, surprised. ‘Oh, it’s my birthday today, not hers. ‘

‘Wait, what?’ you cry, throwing your hands up. ‘I made this cake with Sarah in mind - it will literally be vomiting pink sprinkles!’

‘I’m a girl dad. I like pink,’ shrugs Joel easily.

You huff, using an icing smoother to make sure the buttercream is even all over the cake. ‘I would pop the cake into the freezer to firm up before adding a final layer of frosting if I had the time, but this will have to do.’

‘It looks great,’ Joel assures you as you put the finishing touches to the cake, with buttercream swirls all around the top and a final baptism of sprinkles.

‘There, all done. Lemme box it up for you and this bad boy is ready to go.’

‘Amazin’, thank you so much,’ he grins. ‘Please, lemme do the washin’ up while you’re at it.’

‘Oh, Joel, you can’t,’ you protest, but he’s already grabbed the mixing bowl and all the bits and bobs stained with buttercream. ‘You’re the birthday boy!’

‘Least I can do,’ he shoots back over his shoulder, already halfway to the sink.

‘Well no, you promised to fix the security shutter for me, remember?’ you call after him.

‘Damn, I was hopin’ you’d forgotten about that.’

Joel cleans up with a practised air, humming under his breath as he waits for the water to heat up and the soap to lather. You watch him from the corner of your eye while you secure the cake inside the box, throwing in a birthday candle for good measure. You’ve just tied a nice ribbon around the cardboard box when he puts away everything in the drying rack and wipes his hands dry.

‘Didn’t expect you to be good at that,’ you tease, moving towards the door.

‘Sexist much?’ he jokes, no real bite in his retort. Then by way of explanation, he tells you, ‘I work late, so Sarah usually cooks and I wash up afterwards.’

‘Sounds like you guys make a good team.’

Joel helps with the lights and locks the door, and you stand to one side when he grabs the security shutter and forces it into submission by brute force. You can’t help but stare when the bottom of his tshirt rides up, revealing a soft sliver of belly underneath, his biceps bulging and back rippling as the shutter is finally forced shut in a metallic ripple.

You give him a smile. ‘Well, happy birthday, Joel.’

‘Thanks again for the cake.’ He looks around, as if looking for your car, but the sidewalk is empty except for his truck. ‘How are you gettin’ to your date?’

‘I was just gonna call a taxi.’

‘No, you ain’t,’ he nods towards his ride. ‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.’

‘Oh, no, it’s late, and you should be getting back to Sarah -’

‘I spoiled your date, so please, let me,’ he insists, holding the door open on the passenger side. Hop in.’

Joel takes the cake off your hands and puts it in the backseat carefully, putting the seat belt over it while you climb in. Glancing over your shoulder, you see toolboxes and newspapers on the floor, and it smells like paint and wood dust.

‘Sorry it’s a bit messy, occupational hazard,’ he apologises as he straps himself in. ‘So, where are we goin’?’

‘Do you know the steakhouse on Third Street?’

‘Vaguely,’ he replies, pulling smoothly away from the curb. ‘It sounds fancy.’

‘You been?’

‘Nope, I barely have time to go anywhere nowadays. It seems like I’m only ever in bed, or at work, or in my truck.’

You turn to smile at him, admiring the way his his thick fingers around the top of the steering wheel, making it look so small. ‘I feel you. Small business owner, am I right?’

‘I hear ya,’ he shoots you a smile. ‘So - what’s the deal with tonight? First date?’

‘Fourth, actually.’

He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Fourth date? You know what happens on a fourth date, honey.’

‘I don’t, actually. Tell me, what happens on a fourth date?’

He blows out his cheeks, and admits, ‘Honestly, I can’t tell ya. I haven’t been on a fourth date since 1991.’

You burst into laughter at his unexpected answer. ‘You’re such a dork, Joel Miller.’

When the truck rumbles to a stop outside the steakhouse ten minutes later, he looks at his watch and announces, ‘Here we are, only fifteen minutes late.’ Squinting through the windshield, he points at a man smoking outside, an impatient frown on his face. ‘That him?’

‘Yeah, that’s him,’ you nod, but you stay put in your seat, in no hurry to make a move.

Joel nods, tapping his tidily trimmed nails on the steering wheel. ‘So I’ll swing ‘round tomorrow after work with my toolbelt? ‘Round six thirty?’

‘A toolbelt? What a sight to look forward to,’ you rib, slowly reaching for the seatbelt and unbuckling it.

‘Hell yeah, it’s got a special clip for my Nokia and all,’ he adds mischievously.

'You must fend off the ladies by the dozen,' you tease.

'Daily,' he answers without skipping a beat.

You probably shouldn’t have, especially not with the guy who you’re supposed to be on a date with glaring daggers at you through the windshield. But there’s something cackling in the air between you and this man you just met not an hour ago, and the way the streetlight filters through the window, backlighting his messy curls and scraggly beard, that has you throwing caution to the proverbial wind.

Impulsively, you lean across the gear shift, your left hand finding purchase on his knee before pressing your lips to the side of his whiskered jaw, your kiss fitting right into that little heart-shaped patch on his beard.

You’re not sure who’s more taken aback, but you don’t have time to find out.

‘Happy birthday, Joel Miller.’

He smiles after you as you hop out of his truck.

You’ve just sold your last cupcake of the day when the bell over the bakery door rings. And sure enough, it’s Joel Miller crossing the threshold, right on the dot at six thirty.

‘Hey, Bri,’ he waves, hovering half-in and half-out of the shop, a slight awkwardness having set in overnight.

But it's ok, you're happy to pick up where you left off. Putting your hands on your waist and a cheeky grin, you quip, ‘Wow, you weren’t kidding about that toolbelt, huh?’

Your chest swells as you watch him thaw with an easy smile, and he banters back, ‘I’m a man of my word, honey. You ok with me gettin’ to work now?’

‘Yes, thank you. I’ll be cleanin’ up back in the kitchen, I’ll join you when I’m done.’

Joel shoots you a thumbs up. ‘Great. I’ll grab the ladder and get right to it.’

When you emerge fifteen minutes later, he’s on the fourth rung of the ladder, tinkering the rolling mechanism with a screwdriver and a studious frown on his brow. He looks like he’s wearing the same thing as yesterday - you can believe that he’s a man who buys the same tshirt in bulk - and he smiles at you when you duck out of the shop.

‘Did Sarah like the cake?’ you ask in casual conversation.

‘She went nuts over the piñata surprise,’ he replies. ‘And the cake was delicious, there were hardly any crumbs left when we were done with it. She says we’re definitely ordering a cake from you for her birthday.’

‘I like the sound of that.’

‘How was your evening?’ he asks, glancing down at you from his perch. ‘Did you find out what happens on a fourth date?’

You let out a dry laugh. ‘Yeah, I did, actually. He dumped me.’

Joel freezes, a scowl darkening his countenance. ‘Oh shit, what? Why?’

You shrug, leaning your weight on the ladder as you look at the ground. ‘I mean, I did show up an hour late in some other guy’s truck. And I guess probably shouldn’t have kissed you on the cheek right in front of him.’

You startle when Joel’s fingers slip under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. ‘It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.’

‘Honestly, you don’t look that sorry, Joel Miller,’ you joke.

He cocks his head to one side. ‘Well, I can't lie, I think you deserve better than him.’

‘Do you now?’ you prompt. ‘Who do you have in mind?’

Joel peers at you from under long lashes with a half-smile that's almost shy. He dodges your question, and says instead, ‘I didn't mean to ruin your night, let me make it up to you, honey.’

‘How?’

Deftly, he climbs down the ladder, landing squarely on two booted feet, his presence comforting as he looms over you, his eyes warm. ‘Can I buy you dinner?’

‘Like - a date kind of dinner?’

‘Yeah, like a date,’ he nods.

You can’t help the dig. ‘And you were just sayin' you haven’t been on a date since...?’

He flashes you a smirk, and you shiver when his hand brushes your waist. ‘Since 1991. Tough sell, I know - but I thought I’d give it a shot.’

Running a finger along his sharp jawline, softened by the endearingly untidy beard, you have to bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from giving away too wide a grin. ‘Why, I think I have a good feelin’ about you, Joel Miller.’

Catching your wrist in his fingers, he presses a sweet kiss to your knuckles, the rough graze of his stubble chasing goosebumps across your skin as his eyes smile at you. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then, honey.’

More notes: I hope you enjoyed this sweet little oneshot 🥰 I really leaned into the fluff and I have no regrets. Comments/reblogs/asks are much appreciated as always! I don't have plans for a second part right now, but a smutty follow-up is always a possibility...

The adorable dividers are by @firefly-graphics 👩🏻‍🍳

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller imagine #no outbreak au #joel miller oneshot #the last of us oneshot #fuckyeahshorts

2K notes · View notes

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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punkitt-is-here · 1 year ago

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Read These Frequently Asked Questions Before You Send An Ask!

Patreon | Ko-Fi | Youtube

Heyo! I get a TON of asks each day, so I'm making this post so that folks know what's already been asked so my followers don't have to see the same stuff over and over, haha.

Hi! I'm Punkitt! I'm a game developer, artist, editor, director, and a bunch of other stuff! I'm working on an RPG called Astral Guard, a platformer called Susan Taxpayer, and I have a couple more fun projects in my pocket like Happup and Super Mario Death Row.

Did you know you look like weird al?

YES jesus fucking christ i get told this every day. if u send me a message in my inbox saying i look like weird al im killing you with like wizard spells and shit.

Why do you have so many hats? Do you know you have that many hats?

ye i like hats. :) free tumblr badges for one pea i like one piece and took as many as i could. free.

Where can I find your art/game development/horsecomix?

Great question! Everything I make that's my own and not a reblog is under "my posts", every bit of art I do is under "my art", any game development I do is under "gamedev", you can find all my MLP art under "mlp, my art" or "horsecomix" for the best stuff. I also have an "animations" tag and a "shitposts" tab. I also properly tag all my asks to be asks and write out the asker's name, so if you don't wanna see those just mute the ask tag.

Do you have a Patreon or a Ko-Fi?

I do have a ko-fi here! I also JUST launched a Patreon, which you can find here :)

What do you use for your art?

I use FireAlpaca and Paint.net for misc. effects!

What are you using to make your games?

I use FireAlpaca do make my assets! Astral Guard, Happup, and any other top-down RPG games I make are all made in RPGMaker 2003. Susan Taxpayer is made in SMBX2 Beta 4, a Mario fangame engine with lua support!

Why are you using a 2-decade-plus engine to make games?

It's fun!

Do you have a sideblog or something for your art?

Not right now! What you see is what you get. I do have a sideblog for Astral Guard though, if you want to follow that game specifically! @astral-guard

Can I make an OC based on your work? ABSOLUTELY!!!!!!! THATS THE COOLEST THING EVER!!!! LET ME KNOW IF YOU DO!!!! I WANNA SEE!!!!

Can I do dubs/redraws of your comics? As long as you credit me! I get a ton of notifs each day, so if you wanna show me (and PLEASE i so do wanna see fun dubs and redraws!!!) tag me or DM me!

Can I use your art as a PFP? Sure! Just credit me somewhere. :D

Are you the one who trapped her coworkers in a room and made them listen to TF2 lore?

Yep! Everyone had a blast actually. :]

Did you make that comic where Fluttershy eats the weed brownie/Rainbow Dash has a male living space/someone has a cutie mark that says they'll kill Ronald Reagan?

Yep! That's me.

Where are you in MLP right now?

Currently just finished Season 7! Haven't watched the movie yet.

Have you watched Equestria Girls?

Yep! Thought it was super cute. I watched up to Rainbow Rocks and plan on watching more.

What's your opinion on MLP so far?

I love it! I think it's cute. I really don't agree that there was some sort of huge quality drop after season 2 or whatever.

What do you think of G5?

Not my style! I don't really like either animation types and it just seems like I'm not in the audience anymore. That's totally chill, but it just doesn't grab me!

Have you watched any other MLP stuff from previous generations?

Nope! But I did see a compilation called Minty Being Autistic for Six Minutes Straight that I loved. she's perfect.

Favorite pony?

Don't got one, I love all the Mane Six a LOT, but I'm particularly fond of Fluttershy, Applejack, and Rarity!

Favorite episode/season?

I'm so bad at picking favorites! But any season past Season 1 I have a blast with because I feel like it's just more my style. I don't have a favorite episode, but the most recent one I can remember LOVING is the one where Starlight bottles up her emotions because it was REALLY funny.

Do you like Pony.mov?

Nope! And stop saying my stuff reminds you of it, it's a lil annoying!

Have you watched the Mentally Advanced Series/Friendship is Witchcraft/Other fandom vids?

Probably not! My interaction with the MLP fandom prior to last year was pretty minimal, so I'm making my way through the show first!

What do you think of Fallout: Equestria?

I think it's super weird but really fun because of that. I've never properly read any of it but it's very fascinating to me.

Are you transgender?

Yep! I go by she/her, I'm a trans woman. Have been for many years, but I only recently came out online!

Are you a lesbian?

Nah, I'm bisexual!

Can I commission you?

Yeah! I only have my commissions available on my Ko-Fi at certain times though, so keep an eye out! I usually announce slots being open at least 12 hours beforehand. Slots are usually first come first serve, but we'll see.

Can I use your art as a Discord emote?

Yeah man i'm not scouring every discord on the planet to find stickers of my work. i think it owns if people take my stuff and make it stupid injoke emotes between friends that makes me very happy.

Can I send you an ask inquiring about gender dysphoria?

I feel like this is beyond my capabilities of advice! I'm actually very comfortable with my body and I have been for many years, so I don't know if I can give any good or helpful advice on that front. Apologies, but there are many resources out there where you can ask about those things if you look for them, like Discord channels!

Favorite Color?

I'm a sucker for blue!

Favorite coffee?

Can't drink coffee, my stomach is cringe.

Favorite tea?

I'm lame and can't drink most tea but I love this one orange-flavored tea a lot. I also LOVE ice tea.

Can I say you're horsegender/punkittgender/a little gender goblin void thing?

Well, I can't stop you, but I'm kind of beyond that phase now! I really am a boring ol' plain she/her girl, and I like it that way. It's not much, but it's honest gender.

What's your favorite game series?

Mother, Kingdom Hearts, Mario, and I USED to say Fallout, but I found out I'm really only a big Fallout New Vegas fan.

Favorite game from those?

Mother 3 is one of my fave games of all time! I love KHII, and I'm tied for SMB3 and SMW. Also Fallout New Vegas fucks hard.

Any other favs?

Bug Fables, SLARPG, and TF2!

Favorite Movie?

Everything Everywhere All At Once, no question.

Oh, are you going to college?

Yep! I'm a film/theater major.

Do you have a YouTube channel?

Yeah! Click right here for it, I stream there and upload footage of my games/animations/my film projects + other stuff.

What is that little orange creature I see?

That's bweenop, my little persona that I use when I'm feeling a little scrunkly.

Do you have a ponysona?

Yep! Her name is Star Magnolia, you can search her on the blog to see art of her.

When will Susan Taxpayer/Astral Guard/etc. be out?

No clue! I take things slow, that's just how I am.

How do you work on so many things at once?

I make small, satisfying amounts of progress! I never try to complete one giant thing all at once, I just like doing small bursts of fun stuff. I got ADHD, so I learn to work with it.

Did you know you look like Weird Al?

Im going to run you over with a clown car watch out

WHY do you work on so many things at once?

Fun! I like learning, I like making cool stuff, and I like showing it to people :)

Do you need any help with your projects?

Potentially! I'll probably put out a post asking for help if I need it.

If you could be a horse, would you?

You kidding me? Several ton beasts with the frailty of a sickly Victorian boy; my clumsy ass would never survive.

Are you some sort of...furry?

yeag

Why do you reblog so much?

Brother I LOVE posting. that's just how it is.

Fav music artists?

It changes literally ALL the time but I will recommend ANYTHING by Vylet Pony, its music is incredible and probably the reason I'm a weird niche microcelebrity now.

Why are you like this?

theater kid + having a lot of fun on the internet makes you a bit silly hehe hoo

SUSAN TAXPAYER QUESTIONS

Is it out? Not yet! But hopefully sometime in the next year. I dunno! I take things at my own pace and keep stuff fun. :)

What are you using to make it? SMBX2! It's a free fangame engine for Mario episodes, but it's incredibly versatile and has a wonderful community, so I decided to make Susan Taxpayer in it.

Is there a demo? You betcha! You can find it right here. I'll also probably put it up on my itch.io.

How do I install it? I made a post here about how to run the SAGE '23 demo!

#FAQ #my posts #punkitt FAQ #announcement

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earlycuntsets · 26 days ago

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06/11/2004 equal music interview with gerard by danielle moskowitz

"When Warner Brothers/Reprise invited me to come talk with Gerard from My Chemical Romance about their new album at their record release show, how could I have refused?

The show was in their home state of NJ, packed with 1300 cheering fans. What made the show even cooler for me was featured artist, Nightmare of You was on the bill too! (NOY is still currently unsigned and have been playing with My Chem. Good for them!) I love when Equal Music bands get together!

Is their latest apart of a trilogy? Front man Gerard explains. He also reveals what why it didn't turn out to be the concept record they had planned it to be and what are they doing in Tokyo with The Beastie Boys? (Original interview from Oct. 31, 2003 follows this latest one from June)

DM: When we spoke last you guys were shopping for a producer. Who did you wind up working with and why?

Gerard: We wound up working with Howard Benson. A big reason was because he contacted us which is always very exciting. He was very enthusiastic about the project. It's not so much that he got what world we came from because he's worked with bands like P.O.D. and Blindside which is a completely different universe but he got what we were trying to do with the music and so we connected on a lot of levels.

DM: How was this experience different from working with Alex (Eyeball Records) and Geoff (Thursday [Island/Def Jam]) front man?

Gerard: That whole experience was hanging with friends and having a really fun time. There wasn't a lot of money or pressure. But then this experience didn't have that much pressure either which was weird. It was very a positive experience that had a really good flow. But yeah it was very different.

DM: You said in October that while you were finishing the first record you knew what you wanted the second one to be called (which is their latest, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge) and at the time since you knew the name for the second one you had an idea for what you wanted the third record to be called, although there's not going to be a trilogy so how do you know? Where's the connection with that?

Gerard: It's the kind of connection where you kind of always have a sense of what you're band is doing and where it's headed. I think we have a good idea of kind of like what the first record should be.It should be fast and dirty and cheap. Then the second one you really up the ante and really go for it with this one. The third one you try to explore new avenues. We ended up doing a lot of that on this record. We actually ended up being way more experiemantal than we thought we were going to be. It sounded good to us so we said let's keep doing it.

DM: To jump ahead, do you know what the next one's going to be called?

Gerard: From this experience I learned I shouldn't do that anymore because it locks you into something. And this record wound up being half a concept record because so much happened in our lives that when it came time to write lyrics I found out that it was less ficiton and more fact. So it's a very loose concept record. I want to see what happens for the third one and actually not plan anything out. I think that will be interesting because- it's not that we're calculated but we always kind of know where we're headed and kind of vibe on it. For the next one I kind of don't want to have that.

DM: What kind of mood do you feel like the new album has?

Gerard: I just started listening to it as a piece now, not just bits here and there it's really about loss. The first record was more about pain, misery and agression and violence. Although the lyrics can be disturbing at points, it's really about loss. In the end that's what it wound up being more about instead of some story. You can pick it out of at least four or five of the songs. Even the performances that everyone gives too makes it feel like it's really about loss.

DM: Do you feel like it's dark?

Gerard: Yeah. It's already been called that by a lot of people. We got a parental advisory without even having more than one curse in it. I think it's dark but I think it's a lot more positive than the first record.

DM: Yeah, I remember you saying that you felt the ups were going to be more up and the downs more down.

Gerard: Yeah and they really ended up being like that. But, there's definitely more moments of positivity and celebration than on the first record.

DM: What are some of difference of working with an indie and working with a major?

Gerard: This record was really painless so I can't truthfully answer that as a band that's in our position. We are really rare case of-- it was very similar to the first record where we did exactly what we wanted and luckily because they knew who we were when they signed us that's exactly what they wanted. There wasn't much of a difference other than the fact that there was obviously a lot more deadlines and a lot more pressure to get things done on time. That was the big difference but that was actually it.

DM: You're going to Tokyo soon for Summer Sonic Fest. You must be excited.

Gerard:Yeah, it's awesome, we get to play with The Beastie Boys and I've never seen them.

DM: What's going on for you guys for the rest of the year?

Gerard: Pretty much straight touring till the record cycle is over. It's usually about eighteen months from the time you start a record until you're done touring on it and should be starting a new one. There's already stuff I really want to write. I want to start immediately. As soon as we finished this I wanted to just do another. We're very much a live band but at the same time you get in the studio and you remember you're very much all songwriters and we had forgotten that part of us. I'm still in that head fix where I want to write more songs.

DM: Maybe you can still do that while you're on the road.

Gerard: Yeah, we plan to do it on Warped Tour. It will be our first time really on a bus so we're going to have more space and we'll be comfortable. Right ater that we're going back to a van so Warped Tour is really going to be the time that we write.

danielle moskowitz october 31, 2003 (2nd interview below)

Juxtaposing raw vocals and a punk edge against riffs suddenly gone melodic, My Chemical Romance takes you from upbeat drumming in one measure to a moment where you find yourself lost in slow, somber guitars the next. Listen closely as their vocalist Gerard reveals glimpses of himself through his brutally honest lyrics that hold traces of darkness around them.

DM: The bands success seems to have come very quickly. How long were you a band before signing to Eyeball Records?

Gerard: Let’s see—January is when we started playing as a band. We signed around our third or fourth show. It’s been quick since the beginning.

DM: What were you doing with your lives before the band took off?

Gerard: I was doing animation in the city [New York]. I was actually doing toy design in Hoboken [New Jersey], and Frankie was going to school, Mikey was going to school, Otter was a mechanic, and Ray was delivering film I believe and interning and stuff like that for film. We all just weren’t happy doing what we were doing, ya know?

DM: Geoff from the band Thursday and Alex from Eyeball [Records] I know played a big part in the recording of your last CD.

Gerard: Yeah, definitely.

DM: Are they going to be playing any part on your CD that will be coming out?

Gerard: I don’t think so. Sometimes you want to use the same people sometimes you want to see what would happen with other people. I’m sure they’ll hear it and we’ll ask their opinions.

DM: So they’re not going to help produce?

Gerard: Nah.

DM: What made you guys decide that a major was the next best move?

Gerard: It was one of those things where everything else was moving really fast but we had been able to keep up with it, ya know? We had been able to keep up with the shows that we were getting which were like going from playing basements to playing in front of 10,000 people with Jimmy Eat World. So it went from that to that, and it seemed like a very natural progression. And although a lot of people think it seemed quick, all that talk and all that nonsense was happening before our record even came out. It was like, we basically not fought them off, but said hey we’re going to be a band and do that, ya know? And then when we’re ready…Actually it was a lot longer process than most bands that are getting signed today.

DM: What made Reprise the best label for you guys?

Gerard: It was the best company. They were very familiar with us. We had a lot of fans at the company before we had signed. We had a lot of people helping out before we had signed.

DM: And they understand where you guys wanted to go musically, as a band?

Gerard: Yeah, exactly. That was the big thing. They knew where we wanted to go, they knew how we wanted to do things, and they were going to let us do it our way. Very low pressure type thing. Just kind of let us be us and you distribute us.

DM: When is the new album due out?

Gerard: We’re hoping it will come out in about in about spring. We’re going to record in January. We don’t have a producer yet. We’re looking at a few people and they’re looking at us. So it’s kind of that whole game right now.

DM: Do you have a title yet?

Gerard: Yeah, it’s called Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge. And it was a title that… we pretty much known the title for the first record before it was finished and as soon as we were done with that I kind of knew what I wanted the title to be for the second. So it’s kind of in the process where I kind of know what I want the third to be too.

DM: Is it a trilogy type thing?

Gerard: No. This one’s different from the last and it’s more fictitious, but it’s still heartfelt. And it’s more of a concept record than the last one, where the last one was more of an autobiography. But the next one’s more of a concept album about a person; the next one after that I don’t what know what it will be.

DM: While you guys have been on tour you’ve been playing new songs live and they seem to be heavier. Would you say that is the direction you guys are going in?

Gerard: Well, yeah. The heavier stuffs heavier. The heavy stuff we did before is definitely heavier now. Those same elements are there; we’re just spending a little more time on the heavy stuff. But at the same time I think there’s way more melody. Maybe not in the stuff we’re playing out live, but it’s more violently happy. But it’s also very ironically bleak ya know, as far as tone goes.

DM: Track seven on your CD [I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love] is called Skylines and Turnstiles. Is it true that it was inspired by September 11?

Gerard: Yeah, and in fact that event happening was a big thing about why we started the band because, I was on my to a meeting with Cartoon Network and then that happened and I was like what the fuck am I doing with my life.

DM: You saw it happen? You were in the city?

Gerard: Yeah, I was in Hoboken, on the way there. I was right across the river and I was on my way in right around that, very close to that area, but more around Canal, and I was like what the fuck am I doing?

DM: It made you feel like life’s too short and you need to go for what you want?

Gerard: Yeah, yeah exactly. Like obviously life is way too short, you don’t know when your numbers coming and I also felt like I wasn’t making a difference at all, ya know what I mean?

DM: There are a couple theories circulating about your repeated mention of vampires in your lyrics. Can you clear that up?

Gerard: It’s a metaphor for being in your twenties and getting sucked into that singles, alcoholic nightlife culture, ya know what I mean? It’s interesting, because you’ll find that a lot of bands use the supernatural as a gimmick, and that’s really all it is, it’s just like horror punk, and that’s all it is. We’re not really into vampires. I like to wear black, but��

Contact [email protected] for more about My Chemical Romance. Check them out on select Warped Tour Dates later this year

#gerard way #interviews #old web mcr #my chemical romance #mcr #revenge era #three cheers for sweet revenge

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trippinsorrows · 5 months ago

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give me a reason + one

authors note: welp. here i am, once again. granted, i'm a bit excited about this one, as it's a unique storyline, at least not as cliched as maybe 'ltye' or 'with me'. trope is essentially age gap x best friends brother x second chance romance x something else that'll be revealed by the end of this chapter and my own creative flairs.

the age gap between mariella and joe is four years, and nothing romantic happened between them until she was in her twenties. just putting that out there now. ari don't do that grooming shit.

their story will be told in a mixture of flashbacks and present day. how they ended up where they are now will eventually be revealed, but until then, it's expected that ya'll are confused.

words: 9k

song inspo: just give me a reason by p!nk and nate ruess

warnings: angst and fluff

if i tag anyone and you don't want to be tagged, please let me know!

taglist: @annfg8 @whatdoeseverybodywant @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @prettybitxhnica @shayaaaaaaa

Summer, 2003

“Ladies, next week officially starts the beginning of the rest of our lives. No longer will we be lowly 8th graders. No, we will be official high schoolers! Next week is a new beginning, a new era, a new decade of wonderful, fabulous, life changing—”

“Baby girl, do you want a hot dog or a burger?”

Mariella releases the loudest, most exaggerated sigh known to mankind that is possible for a 14-year-old. She turns from where she was pacing across the stones that line around her family’s pool. Sure enough, her 6’3 father stands before her with his spatula in hand, wearing his apron gifted to him for Father’s Day a couple years back. He’s using his free hand to shield his face from the blaring sun.

“Daddy! I was in the middle of a monologue!”

Byron Holmes looks as disinterested as the tone of his voice. “Ella, you always talking. How am I supposed to know the difference?”

This time, it’s a dramatic gasp that's evoked instead of the previous one born from irritation. “I resent you saying that, father!”

“I’m sure you do, now do you want a hot dog or burger?”

Mariella might quite possibly be the most dramatic person to walk the earth, but the promise of one of her dad’s famous grilled burgers is too good to turn down. She can turn her strong feelings at being interrupted into a song at a later date and time.

Defeated, unable to overpower the desire for good food, she murmurs, “burger, please.”

“Thank you.” Byron Sr. shakes his head. Getting an answer from the prisoners is easier than getting one from his youngest sometimes. He then sets his gaze on her audience. “What about you girls?”

Promise Rose is the first to answer, that usual nervous smile on her face as she adjusts her thick rimmed glasses. “A hot dog, please, Mr. Holmes.”

Byron nods, committing her request to memory. He then turns to the other, already knowing what he’s in for. “Iris?”

Her hazel eyes that are obscured by the heavy set of eyeliner land on him with icy indifference. “I refuse to participate in the travesty and continued slaughter of the innocent just for the selfish pleasure and satisfaction of the greedy carnivorous species that occupies this stolen land.”

Byron releases a heavy sigh. It’s always something with this one. “Is that a yes or no, Iris?”

Iris lifts her chin, answering just as coldly, “I’ll just take the bread.”

Relieved and eager to be away from the only fourteen-year-old who could unnerve him, even with his twenty plus years as a prison warden, he walks away, mumbling to himself, “I swear something is wrong with that child….”

Returned to the previous topic at hand, Mariella plops down on the pool chaise across from her two best friends since third grade. “Now where were we before I was so rudely interrupted?”

“The inevitable extinction of mankind.”

“Surviving high school.”

Mariella rolls her eyes. It can so difficult sometimes to get her two polar opposite besties on the same page.

“We just have to make sure we do everything perfect.”

Promise Rose chews nervously on the corner of her lip and criss crosses her legs over each other. She looks between the two of them, anxiety growing by the second. “Ella is right. With BJ and Joe graduating this year, we’ve gotta make sure we elevate our social status or else we’re dead meat.”

Confused, Mariella asks, “what do you mean?” She then adds, “our social status is fine.”

Promise Rose looks over at an uninterested Iris. “Help here?”

“I refuse to subscribe to the patriarchy of social hierarchies.”

“Oh geez.” She should have known better. Iris refuses to get hip with anything if it’s not sticking a finger to the man. “Ella, it’s only because of your brother and Joe that we haven’t been bullied out of school. We are literally only semi-popular because of association. Without the guys, we’re nerds.”

Mariella would have preferred an actual dirty, jagged edge dagger be shoved into her chest. “We are not nerds!”

“Ella, you’re weird. I’m scared of everything. And Iris contemplates murder every hour on the hour.”

Iris shrugs, pushing her Kaleidoscope colored hair over her tanned shoulder. “Only on exceptionally bad days.”

“I rest my case.”

Mariella isn’t beyond consideration of alternative perspectives. She takes Promise Rose words to heart, trying her best to see it objectively.

She’s also not above admitting that having her brother and Joe look out for her over the years has only been beneficial. Even with them being out of middle school for almost four years now, their popularity has existed since damn near elementary school. Them and her twins sisters, Everly and Olivia, really. But especially Byron and Joe, mostly because of their standing as football players, two of the best on every team they’ve been on. Because of that, there’s not a soul in town who doesn’t know her as BJ’s little sister and Joe’s adopted little sister.

She’s always seen that as protecting her from guys messing with her but never associated it with social status.

And just as she’s undergoing a life changing realization, the creak of the side gate snatches her attention, revealing the two people who can clear all this up for her.

“BJ!”

Mariella untangles her legs from off the pool chair and jogs over to her brother and Joe.

“Damn, not even home for five minutes, and you already sweating me.”

Glaring, she shoves on his chest, muttering, “you’re such a dick sometimes.”

“Aye, watch your math. You too young to be cussing.”

She ignores him. With his 18th birthday right around the corner, Byron Jr., BJ as everyone calls him, has been on some weird power, superiority trip.

Mariella redirects her focus to Joe, accepting his side hug. “Whassup, Ri.”

Mariella has a variety of nicknames. Her parents bounce back and forth between Mariella and Ella, mostly everyone else calls her Ella, but with Joe, she’s just Ri.

It’s kind of an unspoken rule that only he can call her that.

Joseph Anoa’i.

Mariella can’t think of a time Joe wasn’t in her life. Not only does he and his equally large family live just a few doors down, he’s played football with BJ since they were six-years-old, before she was old enough to know what football even was. An almost quiet, level headed balance to her sometimes hot headed biological brother, Joe is Mariella’s big brother from another mother. Hes has always looked out for her just as much as BJ, if not more.

He’s essentially been informally adopted by her family as BJ’s brother for life.

“Hey, Joe.” Separating from him, she turns back toward the two of them. “Okay, I have a question, and it’s imperative you provide me with the raw, honest truth.”

Joe seems at least somewhat interested, but BJ is the one to make the smart comment. “Make it quick. I’m hungry. Practice was brutal.”

A brief brow lift from Joe is confirmation BJ isn’t exaggerating, so in a moment of rarity, Mariella bypasses all of the theatrics and skips right to the point. “Am I a nerd?”

Mariella expects contemplation, some level of astonishment that she could even fix her mouth to ask such a thing. Instead, she’s met with her brother shrugging with a simple, “of course, you are.”

Mouth ajar, hand to her chest, she asks, “what?”

“Come on, Ella, you know you’re kinda weird. Be talking to yourself and stuff.”

“It’s a sign of genius, thank you very much.”

“It’s a sign of weirdness.” She crosses her arms over her chest as a sign of unspoken protest. “If you wasn’t my little sister, I’d probably bully your nerdy ass.”

Completely done with the young man she once considered brother, Mariella looks over at Joe to see he’s on his phone. Probably texting his latest girlfriend of the week. Latisha, or something like that. He seems to cycle through girls faster than BJ. “Joe?”

He lifts his gaze from his phone, and Mariella readies to remind him of the initial question when he answers. “You’re just you, Ri. That’s all that matters.”

She’s not sure why she expected more. Joe can be of so few words at times. She just wishes this wasn’t one of those times.

“While I do not agree with the expressed opinions, I appreciate the candor.” Chin lifted, she bids them farewell. “I will leave you be now.” Mariella can briefly overhear Joe saying something about Latisha, but it’s pushed away, outweighed by this new shocking piece of information.

In walking back over to her best friends and future members of her team when she’s a world famous singer, Mariella is unsurprised to find Promise Rose sitting on the edge of her seat while Iris simply glares at nothing and no one.

Promise Rose is the first to speak, asking with all of the anxiety she carries on a daily basis. “Well?”

Mariella would love to lie to them, but these are her best friends. She could never do such a thing, even if the truth sucks more than the rumors of a pending B2K breakup. “You’re right.” Shoulders slumped, she groans loudly and throws herself back on the pool chair. “We’re dead meat.”

—-------

Present

You, you love it how I move you

You love it how I touch you

My one, when all is said and done

You'll believe God is a woman

Watching her perform has always been an experience, a treat, a vision in some ways. The way she moves across the stage, so demanding, so in the moment, the eye contact and engagement with the crowd creating such an all-encompassing experience.

On the stage, performing, is her element. It’s always been where she shines the most, and tonight is no different.

She’s up for a couple Grammys, already snagging two, as expected. He knows the ones she’s really anxious about are the coveted Album and Record of the Year. It’s something she’s always dreamed of achieving, and while there have been whispers that she’s a shoe in, Joe has known Mariella long enough to know that’s not enough.

It’ll only mean something to her when they’re in her hands.

And he’s confident they will be. She’s had yet another stellar, groundbreaking year, her album somehow doing better than her last. No one’s seeing numbers and sales like her. Her pen game is unmatched, not to mention her album is almost entirely written and produced by her, something unheard of these days.

She truly is an icon in the making.

And the way she ends her performance with a standing ovation from some of music’s best is just more proof of how much she’s killing it.

Joe watches her walk backstage after nervously basking in such a response from people she’s looked up to her whole life.

She doesn’t return to her seat next to him, as expected. The final two categories are about to be announced, and he realizes it would be easier for her to remain backstage when her name is called.

And the minute it is, he finds himself nodding with a small smile. He knew she could do it, knew that there was no way she could release such accomplished work and not leave with acknowledgment of such.

There’s an almost awkward but appropriate pause as the attendees stand and applaud, Mari suddenly rushing out from the back while holding her dress up. For a brief second, he thinks she’s gonna fall flat on her face. It wouldn’t be the first time.

She's a talented dancer, but the textbook definition of a klutz.

Always has been.

But, she doesn’t. Thank God. He knows that’s something she would never let herself live down.

Seconds later, she’s at the mic, panicking, “oh my god!” Her breathing is uneven, and he can bet it’s because she was in the back wearing a hole in the floor with her nervous pacing. “I’m sorry, I was in the back having a panic attack.” That might not be entirely untrue. “And also, my dress is not dressing for some reason, so I’m just gonna awkwardly hold this up to avoid flashing anyone and getting sued by the FCC.” He shakes his head. Even with all the fame, she’s remained the same. “Okay, but seriously, this is insane? Ummm, thank you! I don’t— have no idea what to say. God is so good. My mama would kill me if I didn’t say that. Ooh, I want to thank my parents, of course! My big brother and two older sisters for always putting up with me singing and dancing all over the house.” Always isn’t an exaggeration. Joe can’t recall a time where he walked into the Holmes adobe and wasn’t met with or overheard Mariella working on some aspect of her craft, whether that was writing, creating beats, learning a new dance. She’s always been so focused on getting exactly where she is now.

She continues to thank her team, rushing through the litany of individuals she attributes to helping her stand where she does with the awards that she’s been awarded this night. And when he doesn’t hear his name included, he knows right away she’s in a relatively good mood, willing to play up their Oscar worthy performance.

“And lastly, to my amazing husband,” her eyes search the room, finally landing on him. “Joe, you are my best friend and my biggest supporter. I love you so much. Thank you for always being in my corner and putting up with all of my crackhead energy.” Her eyes are teary, but he has no doubt she’s pulling from the emotion at crossing off yet another box from so long ago versus feeling so moved by her inauthentic words.

But again, he follows along with this song and dance they’ve mastered at this point, mouthing once again that he loves her too.

The music begins to play indicating that she’s maxed out her time, and he hears her quickly throw out, “I’m not on crack, by the way!” before she walks off the stage, ushered by Pharrell and Diane Warren.

Theres’s something both treasured and uncomfortable about those words leaving her mouth. They’re so freely used these days. By both of them. But the meaning and impact behind them is long gone, some place in the past where demons and skeletons lie, often tampered with but never fully addressed.

It now just leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

—-------

“I have a show on the 13th you need to be at.”

Joe is sitting on the edge of the bed, undoing his tie, focused on the balcony doors across from him instead of to his right where she sits at her vanity, removing her jewelry.

“What?” He doesn’t need to be looking at her to know she’s angled toward him, face turned up in disgust. “Of March?”

There’s no need for a wordy answer. “Yeah.”

“I can’t.” Mari has made it a goal of hers to stay on top of her calendar as she prepares to enter the next era of her career. With the Grammy’s now over, the end of this award season is upon her, and preparation for her next album is underway. It’s why she knows and communicates in the moment of the scheduling conflict. “I have a meeting with my label to start discussing my next album.”

Joe can’t deny the fact that he half-expected her to come up with some excuse, some reason as to why she yet again can’t do her part of this joint collab of theirs. “Can’t you move it?”

“Why should I have to move my stuff around for you?” Mari can count a variety of times where she’s done so before, but that was then. This is now. They’re miles away from where they once were, and she’s not willing to inconvenience herself for him.

Not anymore.

Meanwhile, Joe doesn’t understand why everything that’s inherently so simple has to be made so fucking complex. It’s never a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ with her. “You can tell Jax if a date doesn’t work for you. I can’t do that shit with Paul.” And she knows that. Mariella is well aware of how the WWE works. Dates are set in stone months in advance, years in advance sometimes for PPV’s. She’s just being difficult for no damn reason.

As per usual.

In a perfect world, Mariella would be celebrating right now, would be in attendance at the prestigious Grammy’s After-Party celebrating her major accomplishments. Instead, she sits in the room with a man who seems hellbent on stealing her joy in any way he can these days.

It makes her sick.

She’s fully turned toward him, even as he refuses to look her way. Intentional, of course. He knows how big she is on eye contact. “I did that the last time I went to a taping, Joe. I’m not gonna keep doing it.”

He glances at her, and she instantly knows he’s not backing down, not willing to let this lie. She knows she’s in for another pow-wow. A signature finish for most outings these days. “But, I can show up for you?”

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like this isn’t as beneficial for you as it is for me.” One thing she won’t put up with is him acting like their arrangement isn’t just as great for his career as it is for hers. The press and fans of both of them eat up any type of public appearance, especially when he plays the role of the loving, supportive husband who wants to celebrate his wife’s big wins with her. “And you know how busy I am after award season.”

He knows that’s typically when she gets back in the kitchen to start cooking up her next album, where she locks herself in the studio for hours on end writing, producing, escaping.

“And WrestleMania season isn’t for me?”

Truth be told, she’d briefly forgotten about that, forgotten that the biggest night of his career is only two months away. A small part of her hates that. Hates how far they are from where they once were. There was once a time where she had every single event committed to memory, would bend over backwards to attend as many of his shows that she could.

Now, she couldn’t give two shits.

The same way he feels about her.

“I don’t know why you care so much.” She turns back to the mirror to safely remove her diamonds. They’ll need to be returned tomorrow to the designer, and the last thing she wants is to drop or lose something because of his ass. “You got your little whores there anyway. What do you need me for?”

It’s a petty but truthful jab. Mariella knows good and well that her showing up to one of his tapings after he attended the Grammys with her will be ate up by their fans. It’s good press. Great, even.

But the thought of sitting there, with the full, painful, embarrassing knowledge that the women behind the scenes, the women who are hidden behind NDA’s and WWE hush money, see her for the fraud she is. Know that Joe will end up fucking them when the night is over and returning home to her with the scent of their cheap perfume and not an ounce of regret.

It almost makes her stomach turn.

He chuckles, and that’s what makes her gaze snap back onto him. She hates when he does this, when he makes it seem like shit is funny. There’s nothing comical about this tragedy. “Did I say something funny?”

“Forget it.” And now he’s dismissive, trying to shut down an argument that he started. “You don’t fucking listen anyway.”

“Are you serious right now?” Mari’s eyes go wide as she stands up, finally rid of six figure jewelry but basked in growing rage. “I don’t listen? Joe, you don’t listen! You never listen! You haven’t in years.”

Joe feeds off her energy, the quiet anger he’s usually well adept at concealing bubbling its way to the surface. No one’s ever been able to get him riled up like she does. “Naw, you not gon’ do that. Make it seem like this is on me. You do what you want and then expect me to just be okay with shit.”

“Wow. This is rich. Absolutely rich.” Mari can only laugh, because this part is funny. It’s hilarious. His lack of insight is astounding. “You are the most selfish bastard I have ever met.”

“Here it is.” He’s now standing as well, hulking body angled towards her, towering over her even with her designer heels. He motions with his hand for her to continue, to go on with the victim narrative she loves to clothe herself in. “Keep going. Tell me all this shit you already know about me, how awful I am—”

“Because you are!”

Something about the intensity in her voice sends him, makes him snap back easily. “And you’re a fucking saint?” His volume is also rising, which he hates. He never allows anyone to have access to that button, to know what to press and how to press it to get him this worked up. “You don’t never do shit wrong?”

Mariella feels her anger intensify as he turns to walk away from her. She’s hot on his heels, following him into the bathroom. “God, you always do this! You always put it back on me. It’s never your fault. Always mine!”

“And this is what I’m saying.” He has his big hands planted on the bathroom counter, looking at her through the large, mounted mirror. “You’re not even hearing what I’m saying. Always so fucking defensive. I’m not the one who don’t listen, Mari! You are!”

She can’t deny there have been a number of occasions where she’s jumped into defensive mode sooner than what’s necessary. Mariella isn’t above acknowledging that. But for him to make it seem like it’s not for a good reason, if not for his role is something she won’t stand for. “So what if I am defensive, huh? Who made me this way? You did, you bastard!”

“Just stop fucking’ talking, alright?” He’s pulling his suit jacket off, tone a mixture of defeat and exhaustion. Emotional or physical, she’s not sure. She knows she certainly feels both. “I don’t wanna hear this shit anymore.”

“And now here you go, always walking away, always taking the easy way out.” Because this is his MO. He loves to accuse and gaslight, and the minute she calls him out on his hypocrisy, he wants to shut everything down. It’s infuriating.

“Fine!” He slams his fists down on the same granite counter Mariella still remembers him once making out with her on, a starting point that ended with him carrying her to their once shared bed where he would make love to her throughout the night. Such a far away, almost unfamiliar time. “You want to sit here and continue yelling, be my fucking guest. I’m not saying shit though!”

“There you go again with more avoidance. God, you’re so predictable! Shit gets too hard, you shut down. You run away.”

“Don’t fucking act like you ever want to talk about shit with me—”

“Don’t tell me what I want, Joe. You don’t know what I want, okay? You don’t know anything about me anymore!”

“And whose fault is that, Mariella, huh? You don’t tell me shit! You never tell me shit!”

“Why should I? You don’t deserve to know shit about me anymore!” It’s more emotions than anything that fuels her to add on the accusatory, “It’s not like you care in the first damn place!” It also has to be the emotions that have her eyes watering, because it’s been forever and a day since an argument between them—and there have been plenty—has made her feel anything other than anger.

This is different.

This is sadness.

Mariella watches as Joe punches the adjacent wall, the action taking her by surprise and making her jump back from said shock. “What do you want me to say, huh?” It’s been years since she’s seen him this upset. “No matter what I fucking say, what I fucking do, nothing’s ever right, so what’s the goddamn point!” With almost desperation, he shouts, “what the hell do you want from me!”

“I want you to love me again!” She snaps with a burst of visceral emotions. His anger simmers instantaneously. Joe knows that was the last thing she wanted to say, the deep down secret she’s worked hard to keep hidden and tucked away suddenly laid out in the open for all to see. The devastation on her face gives it away as she says more to herself than him in an equally devastated tone, “but that’s gone, isn't it? Everything we had…..everything we were…..is gone.”

An eerie silence settles over them. Joe closes his eyes and does his best to regulate his conflicting emotions. Everything is felt at once. So strong, so confusing, so pressing. That was the last thing he expected to hear from her, the same way the last thing he expected to feel at said words is longing. It’s so unfamiliar and confusing. She has so much power over him. To evoke such strong emotions with just a single sentence. To make him suddenly battle with the array of feelings he’s felt toward and about her at any given point in all of the many years they’ve known each other.

It’s just a fucking mess.

But then, the focus isn’t on his emotions anymore. It’s on the quiet sniffling he hears that makes him close his eyes. Joe instantly feels something different, something similar yet almost stronger than guilt.

She’s still standing at the doorway, but her hands are covering her face, failing to hide what is both visible and audible.

Tears.

She’s crying.

Something else unfamiliar settles over him, something almost nostalgic, that once upon a time uncomfortable plethora of emotions he’d find himself battling whenever he saw she was upset.

It never sat right with him to see her cry.

His tone immediately shifts to something significantly calmer. “Mari….”

“I’m just tired, Joe. I’m so so…..tired.” And it’s with an almost whisper into the enclosed palm of her hands that she grabs the nail for the coffin. “And I don’t want to do this anymore.”

He’s dangerously still, rendered almost physically unable to move. The air around them is suddenly so much more noticeable, heavier, weightier, debilitating.

She lifts her head, revealing a tear stained, distraught expression that makes him almost as equally distraught. “I don’t want to live like this anymore, Joe. I’m not happy. You’re not happy.” Each word leaving her mouth chips away his anger and replaces it with something unidentifiable. “It’s obvious you don’t love me anymore, and that’s—” Her throat catches as she forces herself to continue. “—that’s okay. Our careers are stable enough to where we don’t have to keep up this facade anymore.”

“Mariella—”

“I want a divorce.”

For some reason, there’s always been this belief system that any argument between them is just a part, a part that’s followed up with another one, then another, and then another. But, it never dawned on him that a single part could be the final part.

The final straw.

“Mariella, we—”

He’s stepping toward her, and she’s instantly stepping back, lifting her arms. She doesn’t want him near her, doesn’t want him touching her. It’s a sting, that’s for sure.

“Don’t.” And he won’t. Won’t cross her boundaries even if everything in him is screaming to do so, to bypass her wishes that are being fueled by something temporary. Something that will fade by the time morning rolls around. “Just….don’t.”

She’s wiping at her eyes and mutters, “I need some air.”

He doesn’t like seeing her walk away in this manner, doesn’t like ending on this point. It’s one thing to leave off with the promise of another chapter, but it’s an entirely different thing to know that what could follow is the back cover without the anticipation for a sequel.

But, he says nothing.

Does nothing.

He just lets her leave.

—-------

2007

The phone ringing less than ten minutes after Joe plopped his big body in the bed was the last thing he expected and needed. Coach put them through hell today, and he’d completely forgotten about an assignment due the next day, so he’d forced himself to power through his physical exhaustion to get it submitted.

Unlike a lot of his teammates, Joe does care about his academics as much as he cares about football. He recognizes it’s important to have something to fall back on. And as a senior, he’s really at the point where failure just isn’t an option.

He’s come too far now for that shit.

When the phone rings a second time, he realizes it might be worth answering, even if everything in his body wants him to let it ring 18 times if that’s what it takes for the caller to get the message.

Not even bothering to check who it is, Joe grabs his cell and hits the green button. “Yeah?”

He’s met with soft sniffling followed up with a quiet, “it’s me.”

At that, Joe sits up in his bed, all attention on the person on the other end. “Ri?” He’s wide awake now. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry to call so late—”

“What’s wrong?” He doesn’t care about that anymore, just wants to know what happened to make her phone him at such a time. To phone him crying, at that. That’s the part that makes him concerned.

He can’t remember the last time he’s seen or heard her do that.

He hears shuffling on the other end as she chokes out, “can you—can you come get me?”

It’s not even a question. “Send me your location. I’m on my way.”

—--

Joe nearly knocks down the damn mailbox in front of the frat house with how quickly he pulls up, his truck coming to an abrupt sudden stop. He’s barely got the truck shut off when he’s ripping the door open and jogging up the path to the house of entitled, elitist pricks who get off on the misery of others.

But, he’s more focused on Mariella who meets him halfway on the path of said house, arms wrapped around her body.

He’s assessing her from head to toe, using the dim streetlight as a guide in the stark darkness of the night. “What happened?” Realizing she’s still hugging himself, Joe’s blood goes cold. “Did he touch you?” And when she doesn’t say anything right away, he’s trying to move past her, murder on his mind. “I’ll fucking kill him—”

“No.” Her hand is on his chest, restraining him as much as she can. The truth is that it would be nothing for him to carefully move her to the side and beat the living shit out of her asshole of a boyfriend who he’s never liked from day one. “He didn’t.”

Joe doesn’t put it past her to try to say what she thinks he wants to hear. “Ri, don’t lie to me.”

“I promise. He didn’t. We just—” and the emotion rises back up, making her pause as she pleads with him. “Can we just go? Please?”

Joe knows why she called him and not Byron. Because Joe nods and guides her to his truck without further protest. Byron would have beat Damien first and maybe or maybe not asked questions later for the mere fact that he made his baby sister cry.

The ride back to his dorm is silent, and it’s not until they are sitting outside on the steps of Joe’s residence hall that he asks again, much calmer, still as curious, “what happened, Ri?”

It takes a few minutes for her to start talking, and while he does his best to be patient, it’s also really fucking hard to not just bypass the conversation and go straight back to the original plan of murder.

“We were—we were messing around.” Instantly, Joe’s anger suddenly shifts to disgust. While he recognizes his best friend’s little sister isn’t so little anymore, eighteen and a college freshman, she’ll always be that goofy, klutzy, theatrical kid who was always trying to hang out with him and Byron. So, hearing about her messing around is the last thing he wants, but he also doesn’t want to interrupt and allows her to continue. “He wanted to have sex, but I—I told him no.” And before the murder plan can be revived, she clarifies. “And he stopped, but then we started arguing, and he—he told me he was tired of waiting, but I said I’m not changing my mind and….and he broke up with me.”

In some strange sort of way, Joe is more relieved than anything, mostly at the fact that nothing physical happened. It sucks, and he hates seeing her upset, but it’s really a blessing in disguise. Even if she doesn’t see it yet.

Still, he’s sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Ri.”

She sniffles again, wiping at her eyes. “I really liked him and—and I thought he liked me.”

Joe wants so badly to tell her that Damien never liked her. He liked that she was a virgin.

Mariella had made the cardinal mistake of sharing with her ex that she was still a virgin, something the bastard, like Damien, thought he could change. When that didn’t happen and a breakup followed, that same asshole took it upon himself to share her virgin status with several friends, several teammates. And it’s become a bit of a contest almost among the basketball team, to see who can take it from her first.

It’s fucking disgusting and makes him sick, but it’s also the culture of college athletes.

Some, at least.

“He’s an idiot, Ri.” This is said both because it’s true but also because he just wants her to feel better, to not feel like she lost out on some prize. If anything, she dodged a bullet.

“Maybe I’m the idiot.” She shakes her head and shrugs. “Cause I keep finding myself in the same situation.”

He’d like to call it an exaggeration, but Joe also knows that this has been an issue in almost all of her relationships for the past few years. Less an issue and more a deal breaker. Sex is something that’s deeply personal and important to her, and he’s happy she’s that way, that she isn’t just sleeping around with anyone. Especially since she seems to have a penchant for athletes.

They can be the worst.

He would know.

“Athletes can be hoes, Ri. That has nothing to do with you.”

“You and B aren’t like that.” She then corrects with an ounce of her usual sense of humor. “I mean, you guys are hoes, but you’re nice hoes.”

He laughs. That’s a bit of the Mariella he’s used to. “True, but maybe we’re the exception.” He then takes a deep breath, speaking to her from the heart. “I’m not really sure, but what I do know is that Damien was an asshole who never deserved you in the first place. You’re better off without him.”

It’s the god’s honest truth. Ri is like his little sister, and it pained him to see her give someone like Damien the time of day, but he also respects that while he still sees her as a little kid, she isn’t. She’s a legal adult capable of making her own decisions, and he respects that.

“He had pretty eyes though.” Joe gives her a look, and for the first time, she actually, truly laughs. It’s music to his ears. “What? If I don’t laugh, I’ll just keep crying.” Her eyes light up with something other than sadness, and he watches her pull out her phone, suddenly typing away.

He doesn’t even need to ask. He’s seen this before. She’s inspired and is getting out the lyrics before they escape her. And a few minutes later, she reads to him what she’s come up with.

If I don't laugh, I'm gonna cry

Don't wanna hear your name tonight

I'm finally happy, not in the mood

I don't wanna think about you

“I like it.” It’s the truth. He likes most of what she writes, outside of the shit that’s way too girly for his musical preference.

She offers him that brilliant smile, eyes twinkling with something similar to appreciation. Mariella grabs his bicep, laying her head against his shoulder. “Thanks, Joe.”

He looks down at her. “I’ve always got your back, Mariella.” And that’s a promise. “Always.”

—-------

“Mariella, this is fucking ridiculous.” Joe pulls the phone away from his face to get a specific, accurate time. “It’s almost 3 o’clock in the damn morning. Get home now before something happens to your ass.”

He then quickly jabs the red end button. It’s an unkind voicemail message to leave, but also one of several he’s left over the past two hours. The first was a lot more understanding, almost apologetic. Now he’s just fucking annoyed, because she said she needed air. He figured she’d go sit outside, on the patio, maybe even sit poolside.

Not for her to take off for a late night car ride without telling him anything. It’s something she used to do once upon a time, when they were both broke nobodies trying to keep the dream alive.

Such a far off, distant memory.

Joe wishes he didn’t care. Wishes he could head to bed and let her be in her feelings. He’s got an afternoon flight out to a taping and needs to be at the airport by 10am. At this rate, he’s not going to get any quality sleep, and that shit annoys him to no end because he likes to be well rested for work. Especially in his line of work.

Sleep deprivation can make a wrestler more prone to unnecessary injuries.

Still, he also knows that even if he were to try to get some sleep, he’d twist and turn the whole night. He’s never been able to sleep well until she was home and safe.

But, she’s not, and that shit just pisses him off all over again. He grabs his phone, ready for yet another call to go straight to voicemail when it lights up, generic ringtone filling the sizable kitchen. He doesn’t even bother checking the caller, just hits the green button and jumps right into questioning.

“Where the hell are you?” At this point, he’ll go pick her up his damn self just to see her two feet planted in their LA mansion. “This isn’t—”

“I’m sorry—” Joe is the one who’s sorry because that certainly isn’t Mariella. Confused, he pulls the phone away from his ear again to see that it’s an unfamiliar local number. Bringing it back so he can ask who the hell this is, the caller beats him to it. “I’m looking for Joe Anoa’i.”

The woman’s voice is professional, but there’s also a hesitation there. A hint of emotionality almost.

Frowning, he answers, gruffly, “This is Joe.” He’s quick with the follow up. “Who is this?”

“My name is Leslie Owens, and I’m an officer with the Los Angeles Police Department.” And just like that, Joe knows his entire world is about to be flipped upside down. “I’m sorry to inform you, but your wife has been involved in a car accident….”

—-------

2013

“Just a couple more steps….”

“Ri, this is stupid. I’m gonna open my eyes.”

He can hear her dramatic gasp as she squeezes his hand. “Don’t you dare ruin this moment for us, sir!”

“The moment’s gonna be really ruined if your accident prone ass makes me fall down these damn steps.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m only accident prone when it comes to myself. Not others.” She sounds so proud of this fact too. “Thank you very much.”

She makes him smile, but that’s a given. There’s always an immense amount of joy and contentment when he’s around her. Her positivity, while excessive at times, is calming. Always has been.

He’s happy when he’s at least done with the steps and on a leveled surface. Recovery from face planting on pavement has to be easier than a tumble down three flights of steps.

That reminds him. “This place doesn’t have an elevator?”

She’s quick with the answer followed by the jangling of keys. “Naw. That was the other place, but it was out of our budget.”

He says nothing. It seems like a lot is out of their budget these days.

Joe can hear her insert the key as well as the turn of the door knob and subsequent creaking of a door. She’s pulling him forward and he naturally steps over the mantle that she surely would have let him trip over because of her obliviousness in the moment.

It’s when she drops his hand that he knows the end of this unnecessary dramatic introduction to seeing the apartment for the first time is nearing an end.

“And…..open!”

Joe doesn’t need to be told twice.

The first thing he sees is her beautiful smile as she stands before him with her arms stretched up and in a ‘v.’ “Welcome to our first place together as husband and wife!”

Looking around, it’s clear as day that Mariella is probably the nicest thing in his line of vision. It’s not a bad looking apartment, at all, just plain and clearly in need of some modernizing updates/renovations.

He can tell she’s tried to make it a little more homey with the rug and curtains, as well as family photos, but it’s still a far cry from the kind of place he’d love for them to call home.

“It’s….something.”

Mariella rolls her eyes. “I mean, it’s not the Hilton, but it’s ours, and that’s all that matters.” She moves over to him, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck. His hands plant on her hips, holding her to him. “Sure, the balcony is basically a ledge, and our view is of a park, so it gets loud sometimes, and I may or may not have witnessed a crime the other day……hope he’s alright.” Her brows cave together in brief confusion before she shrugs and back to smiling like they just won a million dollars. “But that’s besides the point because every couple has their struggle origin story. This is just ours for now.”

He’ll be happy when they’re out of this chapter of said story. This is one of those times he somewhat wishes he waited to marry her until they were both in better financial places. More him than her. She deserves so much better than this. She deserves the world, and he’s going to give it to her one day.

He just prays that day is sooner rather than later.

“Hey.” He looks down and refocuses his attention on her. “As long as I have you….I’m good.” She moves to lay her head against his chest, murmuring, “I love you, and you love me. That’s all I’ll ever need.” And in true Ri fashion, she gasps and pulls away, looking up with almost childlike excitement. “I almost forgot!”

In many years of knowing Mariella, Joe has learned it’s always best to just let her do her thing and see what happens versus trying to navigate the eccentric workings of her chaotic mind.

So he watches silently as she rushes over to the counter to dig through her purse and pulls out her phone. She does that rapid tapping and sliding of her fingers that she does when in a self assigned rush. Less than a minute later, he’s hit with an all too familiar opening piano followed by even more familiar lyrics.

It's undeniable

That we should be together

It's unbelievable

How I used to say, that I'd fall never

Joe smiles as she moves her way back over to him, reaching for his hand. “Our wedding first dance song to christen our first place together. We have to dance. It’s literally in the marriage rule book.”

He chuckles. “Oh, really?”

“Duh.” She gasps and bites down on her bottom lip when he quickly yanks her toward him. Joe’s hand is on the small of her back as hers move up his check, locking behind his neck. “See….not so bad after all?”

He dances with her, but his attention is focused less on the music, even the dancing and just her. “Anything’s better if you’re there.” She beams up at him and giggles as he spins her so that her back lands against his chin. His head dips into her neck, as she places her hands on his forearms.

He’s taking her in, enjoying this moment with her when she says leadingly, “you know there’s another first we haven’t done yet to christen our place…..”

Joe makes a sound and presses a kiss to the side of her neck. “Hmm. And what is that?”

He can only imagine the way her cheeks must be tinged red as she answers almost as if she doesn’t want anyone to overhear. “That thing you’re really good at.” He smiles against her skin and holds her tighter. “I especially like when you do that one thing with your tongue and—Joe!” Too much talk, not enough clothes being taken off. He doesn’t hesitate to lift her over his shoulder, eager to show her just how much he also likes to do that ‘one thing’ with his tongue.

—-------

Present

Two weeks.

Two weeks since he’s seen her big, beautiful smile.

Two weeks since he’s heard that infectious laugh.

Two weeks since he’s heard her voice.

Two weeks since the night that changed everything, the night that some idiot decided to drive drunk and crashed into her vehicle head on.

Two weeks since she was airlifted to a Level 1 trauma center where her injuries were so severe that they immediately took her into surgery that saved her life in one way but couldn’t in another.

Because she has yet to wake up from the initial accident.

Because it’s been two weeks since Mariella slipped into a coma.

It’s been two weeks of that cruel waiting game, that slight smudge of hope that rises where the doctor comes in with just as much desire it’ll be a different prognosis only for the same thing to leave his mouth every time with that same disappointed expression.

“We just have to continue to wait.”

Joe isn’t sure he’s ever hated a saying more than he now hates that one.

Just like her mom and other family members, he's been at the hospital every day, just sitting for hours at her bedside, holding her hand that’s much colder than he’s used to. Than it should be.

The room is silent, a type of silence he’s unused to. There’s never silence when Mariella is around. She’s always talking, always smiling, always laughing.

But not anymore.

Now she just lays there, unconscious, Joe praying more than he ever has in his entire life that he gets to see her pretty eyes yet again, hear her beautiful voice scream at him, sing to him, laugh at him, anything.

He just needs her.

The love and support from her fans has been astounding yet expected. She’s America’s Sweetheart. Music’s new queen. Everyone loves her. She’s received an endless amount of support, kind words, prayers, and well wishes from both fellow artists and fans. Though the fans seemed to have done the most. Even holding several vigils outside the hospital. And though he’s still pissed that piece of information got leaked, he knows she would be so moved by the love.

Joe wasn’t entirely in agreement with sharing Mariella’s coma status with the world, but it was the decision that was eventually settled on by Iris, her manager, and the rest of her team with the family’s eventual blessing.

The specifics regarding her injuries, however, have remained confidential, and for that, he’s grateful.

He’s sitting on the side of the bed yet again, taking over the shift from April, Mariella’s mom, whose devastated expression hasn’t changed from the minute he had to tell her and the rest of her family what happened to now, as they all wait with all of the hopes and prayers in the world for the prognosis to change.

“This is the longest I’ve ever gone without hearing your voice.” Just saying it aloud feels strange, wrong even. That he gets to sit here and talk while she lays there, plugged up to a million machines, deprived of even that basic right. “I never knew I could miss something so much until now.”

And it’s the truth.

Realizing his NFL dreams weren’t going to become a reality was devastating, but this….this is another level of hell.

“You said…you said you want me to love you again, but….but I can’t do that, Ri.” His hand is over hers, thumb rubbing the skin that’s not covered by the IV and large bandage. “I can’t do it again because I never stopped loving you in the first place.”

It’s a disgusting, pathetic feeling. To know that the words he should have said to her when everything first started falling apart can only leave his mouth after something like this occurs. After he’s so brutally reminded of the fragility of life and the importance of telling people how you feel when they’re still around.

There’s so much he needs to tell her, so much he needs to clear up, so much he needs her to tell him.

She deserves clarification.

He deserves answers.

Joe just prays he gets the chance for that to happen.

It’s nearly seconds after that thought crosses his mind that he feels movement under his hand. His eyes snap up to see the one thing he’s prayed for every day for the past two weeks, the one thing he deep down was scared he would never see.

Mari’s brown eyes. Glossed and confused as all the outdoors, he sees them darting all around the room and feels her trying to move her hand.

He’s not sure he’s even breathing anymore. “Ri?” It’s as she continues to blink and try to move her head that he realizes this isn’t some cruel hallucination. She’s awake.

Mariella is awake.

When the shock wears off, he all but runs to the door, ripping it open as he calls for the doctor, the nurse, any medical professional available to tend to her.

Joe is right on the doctor’s heels as he moves quickly to her bedside, digging for something out of his white coat pocket. Joe moves to the other side of her bed, closely observing any and all interactions of both.

“Mariella, I’m Dr. Reynolds, and I’ve been overseeing your care here.” Joe then looks back at his wife who seems more awake by the second but still with her mouth turned downward, like she’s lost at what’s happening.

Mariella squints when the doctor shines the light in her eyes, wincing almost, and Joe has to catch himself from telling the doctor to be careful.

“Do you remember what happened?” Dr. Reynolds asks, and Joe watches closely as she looks at him with the same level of confusion. “Can you tell me what year it is?”

His stomach drops when she shakes her head no.

“You were in a car accident.” The doctor’s voice takes on a different tone, something not as optimistic, more….ominous. “Can you give me your full name?”

Again, a slow shake of the head to answer no.

Joe goes to ask the doctor what’s going on, if this is some side effect that people can have when waking up from a coma, but the man is pointing in Joe’s direction as he asks a final question. “Do you know who this is?”

And it’s then, as she shakes her head ‘no’ yet again that Joe realizes what’s happening. A new kind of ruination overcomes him, making his throat suddenly feel almost as heavy as his heart.

It’s a heartbreaking realization that he has to say aloud because it feels almost too unreal to be true.

“Her memories are gone….”

#roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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