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outofconcheol · 9 months ago

Text

Exit West (LMH x F!Reader)

pairing: Minho x f!reader (afab)

genres/au/rating: angst, smut, some fluff, post-apocalyptic au (based on the Netflix series Sweet Home), 18+

summary: Even when the world is plunged into its darkest hour, you find the faintest light in Minho.

warnings: heavy angst, lots of mentions of blood and injuries (i tried to make it as non-graphic as possible), minor character deaths, weapons, panic attack (again not graphic), it's heavily implied OC struggles with agoraphobia and PTSD, brief infidelity, Minho and reader do get into verbal arguments (they're a little toxic lol), Minho is a true loverboy, ambiguous but hopeful ending, smut warnings: kissing, fingering (f rec), unprotected sex, brief nipple play

word count: 6.3k

a/n: i'm so sorry that this took so long, google docs decided to be a jerk and delete a huge chunk of this while i was working on it (I apologize in advance for the poorly written angst)! It is based on the world of Sweet Home but honestly you don't need to have watched the show or read the webtoon to follow along. the title is from the book by Mohsin Hamid. I hope you enjoy! <;3

The sharp wire of the metal fence cuts into Minho’s palms, digging into his mottled skin, and he braces himself for the jump. Leaping over, Minho lands silently on his feet, skills honed from many years of observing his cats take the same leap from couches or counters. But none of that existed anymore.

His eyes remain sharp, taking in the cover of woods around him, and he remembers that while the trees helped him stay hidden, they hid the monsters from his sight as well. No sooner than he’s managed to calm down the ever-present racing of his heart, he’s swinging the door to the bunker open, closing it quietly behind him.

Wincing, he examines the cuts on his palms, tinged with dirty specks of rust. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep doing this, knowing the small supply of rubbing alcohol he’d managed to collect over the past few months was now down to the last bottle. And there was no more to be found.

The small bit of sunlight that streams in through the barely-qualifying window illuminates your sleeping figure nestled amongst a pile of dirty blankets, and Minho almost hesitates to disturb you like this. You look so peaceful like this, a stark contrast to the emptiness that fills your eyes when you wake, the pain of living through two starkly different lifetimes contained in their depths. He knows his eyes hold the same.

“___,” he shakes you awake gently, watching you stir. The gashes that mar your face have begun to scab over, leaving ugly scars in their wake.

“I brought dinner.”

That gets you to jolt up, rubbing sleepily at your eyes.

“Are you okay? Anything hurt?” You shake your head, a small frown on your face when you see the fresh red marks that litter his palms. He has the feeling you’re lying to him again, but he doesn’t push it. A lot went unspoken between you two.

Minho wordlessly hands you over a full sleeve of crackers, your eyes lighting up. You chomp down eagerly on one, before pausing, holding it out to him.

“I already ate,” he lies, knowing he didn’t want you to sacrifice any kind of meal for his sake. He’d eat the less full sleeve when you fell back asleep.

Moments of silence pass between you, the soft sounds of your eating lulling Minho’s tired eyes to fall, becoming heavy with sleep. He rests his head on his knees, fighting back the shiver that night brought with it.

A deafening roar breaks through the stillness, and you freeze, dropping the crackers to the ground. Minho is by your side in an instant, hand tentatively reaching out towards your shoulder. But he never closes the gap.

“Ten seconds,” you croak out, so softly that Minho thinks he might not have heard you. “If the distance that sounds travel is 343 metres per second, then ten seconds means it’s far enough away from us.”

The ghost of a smile twitches at Minho’s lips, and he wants to praise your sharp skills, considering he’d only ever been a pabo, but you’ve turned around and fallen asleep again, your back to him.

Minho settles into the blankets across from you, watching you for a few minutes before his body is weighed down by the exhaustion of the day, knowing the exact same thing waited tomorrow. The end of the world was more boring than he’d expected it to be.

It hadn’t always been this way. The chaos had naturally broken through the quiet, starting one night when a fire broke out in his apartment complex. Amidst the screams and sounds of windows shattering, Minho’s only concern had been the cats, scooping them up, taking special care to cover their ears from the blaring alarms. But all of it hadn’t made a difference anyway.

He thought it was his neighbour at the end of the hallway. Or at least, it looked like him. He’d always had some sort of disdain for the man - in Minho’s eyes he talked too much. Always interrupting him during his morning mail runs to brag about his latest conquests when it came to dating. It was a sore spot for Minho, especially considering his own romantic interests were so singular, something he didn’t want to get into whenever his neighbor cornered him.

But the vain man who talked Minho’s ear off about sleeping with as many women as possible was nowhere to be found, lithe limbs transforming into ropes that broke through the ceiling. Heading straight for Minho.

Somewhere in the chaos, Minho briefly had time to register that whatever was in front of him was no longer human. And so, he did the only thing he could do. Run.

The floor slipped underneath him, hurtling Minho to the ground, the cat carrier thrown open next to him. Soonie, Doongi, and Dori are nowhere to be found. His palms claw against the tile, trying and failing to lift himself up, eyes widening when he sees the red that coats his palms.

“Please,” Minho croaks, attempting to break through to the human underneath the monster. “Don’t do this.”

There’s a brief flash, a spindly arm reaching out for Minho’s face, and he ducks. The sound of shattering glass follows, the grotesque body flinging itself out the window. Minho heaves, hot tears leaking from his face as he remains curled in the fetal position, arms braced over his head. When his breath returns to him, he looks over at the empty carrier and lets out a sob. Slowly, his eyes turn to the shattered window.

Blood lines its jagged edges, dripping to join the mess on the floor. Peering downwards, Minho sees the mangled body of the thing (he refused to acknowledge it had been his neighbor) that had attacked him, unmoving.

He had to get out of there.

…

The knock at the door startles you. It’d been days since you’d locked yourself away from the chaos, days since you’d heard a sound. But the screams would never leave your head.

You’ve been huddled up in the same corner since it all started, exactly ten feet away from the door. Close enough to act quickly in case someone (or something) came knocking, but far enough away to duck into one of the rooms of your apartment for safety.

However, the splitting pain in your ankle prevents you from doing either. The bruises are turning a nasty shade of yellow, mixing with the unsightly violet from before. You’re pretty sure it’s broken, your bookcase toppling over onto it the day this had all started.

The knock startles you again. It’s soft, gentler than the ramming you’d expected if a monster were to come knocking. But still, you could never be too safe.

“Churu,” a soft voice whispers through the darkness, and you freeze. There was only one person in the world who’d know that word, and come knocking at your door.

Your palms burn as you drag yourself against the floor, taking extra care to make as little sound as possible. Fighting the urge to curse when the door creaks, you brace yourself against it, peering through the peephole.

The banged-up face of Lee Minho greets you on the other end, and you nearly sob with relief. Swinging the door open, you take him in at the threshold, peering at you with a strange gaze. You’d often joked to Minho that his eyes resembled his cats’, curiosity mixed with having seen too much contained in their depths. But it seemed especially true today, his lip split open and face haggard while he clutched a baseball bat in his hand.

You know the first thing he’s going to ask before it even leaves his mouth.

“Are you hurt?” he huffs out, watching you collapse against the door frame.

“Junho is gone.” You watch Minho’s entire figure tense up when his best friend’s name comes off your lips, his grip around the bat tightening.

“I-, I tried to talk to him, but there was a weird sound on my phone that kept breaking us up, and then I heard him scream, and then…”

You collapse against Minho in a fit of sobs, forced to recount those awful last moments when you’d heard your boyfriend die over a phone call, the chilling screech of something that wasn’t human cutting off his screams for help. And you were trapped halfway across the city, crumpled on the floor, unable to do anything to help him.

Minho’s arms wrap around you, supporting your weight, and he’s moving you both over the threshold, taking care to shut the door softly behind him. You don’t know how many minutes you spend wailing against his chest, the sight of another human forcing you to confront the horror you’d dealt with in the past few days, but eventually, the pain in your ankle makes itself known again, and you slide to the floor.

Minho rests his head against the door frame, his own eyes red-rimmed, and you watch his face contort, trying to hold back the tears from falling.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, watching Minho’s gaze snap to yours.

“What for?” he croaks. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m so scared, Minho,” your eyes fill with tears. “I thought that no one would come for me, that I’d be alone here, and that I’d…”

You choke, unable to finish the sentence, and you watch Minho straighten next to you. The warmth of his hand wrapping around your waist startles you, watching his lithe body contort as he helps you up off the floor, taking special care not to put weight on your ankle.

“You’re with me now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

There’s a furrow in Minho’s brow when he hears your request, lips tightening into a thin line while his throat bobs.

“Absolutely not.”

The decision is final, resolute, stubborn — Minho’s arms are crossed over each other, and he stares down at your figure among the blankets, eyeing the makeshift splint currently tied around your ankle.

“Minho, please.” It comes out as a whine, years building in your eyes from the frustration of being trapped in the bunker for months on end.

“I said no.”

Minho had dragged the two of you to safety not long after he’d found you, stealthily dodging the strange creatures that had begun to pop up on the city landscape. There was little in common between them besides their monstrous appearances, but Junho’s screams lingered in the back of your mind, causing you to wake up every night in a cold sweat for the first few weeks.

The tiny bunker became your new home, and Minho your roommate, forced together by circumstances beyond your control. You’d snapped at him when he brought up the idea of leaving, wanting to search for food and supplies outside.

Unfortunately, your ankle made the final decision for you — Minho would have to be the sacrificial lamb, risking his life for you both. It filled you with an immeasurable amount of guilt, knowing he put himself in danger every day to provide for you both. But it also made you angry, the listlessness that had begun to brew inside you only becoming stronger when you felt more and more useless every time he’d come back with food and medicine for you and nothing for himself.

Regret cut through you like a searing knife. Who was Minho to do all these things? He’d been Junho’s best friend, not yours. The relationship between you two had been cordial at best, Minho barely managing to string more than five words together every time he was around you. It always seemed to you like Minho stood at the other end of a vast abyss, impossible for you to reach in any way. Admittedly, you’d been no help in closing the chasm, even since you’d both escaped together, the pain in your ankle lulling you to sleep as soon as you swallowed the meds he brought every day.

Your eyes flit to Minho across the bunker, holed up into the corner. You watch his hands rummage around in his pocket, pulling out a switchblade. The shiny metal gleams in the rays of the sun, Minho’s fingers enclosing around a lock of his messy, overgrown hair—

“STOP!” The switchblade clatters to the floor at the sound of your voice, Minho’s lips parting in surprise. A deep flush creeps across your neck, wondering what had prompted you to interrupt him in the moment. His eyes study you with a curious glint, a thousand questions hidden in them.

“You’ll dull the knife,” you manage to get out, amazed at the calmness in your voice despite your heart racing at a million miles an hour. “What if we need it?”

Minho’s lips twist up into a smirk, and you wonder if he can see through your thinly veiled excuse. If he does, he doesn’t say anything, throwing a baseball cap over the shaggy strands, smiling when they fall into his eyes.

“Fine,” he acquiesces. “You can come along. But any sign of trouble and you have to leave me and get back here, okay?”

“What do you mean, leave you? You’re coming back with me, of course.”

“___.”

“Minho.”

You push yourself off the ground with your palms, hobbling over to Minho’s side.

“Thank you,” you whisper softly to him, and Minho rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly, before the door to the bunker creaks open once more, this time the two of you stepping out into the sun together.

. . .

Sweat pools on Minho’s shirt, the sun beating down on the two of you while you make your way through the woods, eventually finding yourselves in a vast field. You’re slower than he is, trailing behind him while you skip on your partially healed ankle, but Minho finds he doesn’t mind.

In fact, he thinks he must look like a fool, the huge smile that threatens to take over his face creeping up every few minutes. Somehow, it feels different now, having you here with him. The sun’s rays feel less ruthless, and there’s the faint rustling of a breeze through the meadow. It's almost like he’s on an adventure, and not caught in an endless struggle for survival. He’s filled with the hope that maybe the two of you can come out of this alive. Together.

Pushing through the blades of grass, Minho pauses when he hears a small thud behind him, followed by the faint sound of wheezing. Turning on his heels, his heart turns to ice when he sees you, knees curled to your chest, the faint sheen of sweat lingering on your skin.

“Shit!” Minho curses into thin air, crouching onto the dirt next to you. “Stay with me ___!”

His arm swings out to steady you, but recoils at the last second, not wanting to startle you. Guilt eats away at his chest when he realizes this is all his fault. He’d been the one to agree to let you go outside. Realization dawns on him that there’d been a reason you stayed in the bunker the entire time, his mind flashing back to the days you must have spent alone in your apartment, full of pain, wondering if anyone would show up.

Minho panics, looking around the field for something, anything that could help hold you over until this passes, when a thought crosses his mind.

“Do you want to hear about the time I tried to walk my cats?” He babbles out, cheeks hot at the silly interruption. It works though, your face jolts up, the trance finally broken. Your eyes are red-rimmed, hair dampened with sweat, snot running down your nose. Minho thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.

“It was in a field just like this, I brought them out here with their harnesses,” he continues, the smile growing on his face when he sees the stream of tears that run down your cheeks dry up.

“It was a disaster. I thought Doongie ran away for sure, and Soonie just laid down in the grass on his belly, refusing to get up. Dori was the only one who took to it,” he reminsces fondly, a half-sob, half-chuckle escaping him at the memory, trying to soothe the hollow ache in his heart when he thinks of them.

“I wish I’d met them,” you reply softly, your hand resting on Minho’s shoulder.

“It was my fault,” Minho spits out bitterly. “Junho was over all the time, I could have introduced you. They would have really liked you I think.”

Just like I do.

“I hope we find them,” your voice is quiet, but there’s a resoluteness to it that surprises Minho. “They have to be out there somewhere, waiting for you.”

That strange feeling of hope bubbles up in Minho’s chest again, and he helps you up, fighting the burning in his cheeks when your hand remains clasped in his, the two of you hobbling through the field.

Half an hour later, and you’re stopped outside the remains of what looked to be a convenience store, completely ransacked. Minho ignores the emptiness he feels when he lets go of your hand to peer inside, his heart dropping at the bare shelves.

Behind him, a twig snaps, your sharp gasp echoing amidst the silence. The gleam of the switchblade is apparent in seconds, Minho pulling it out of his pocket.

The woman is whimpering, her gauzy white dress in tatters. His eyes trail to her hands, the discoloured nails offset by the glint of a fancy diamond ring, and for a moment, he could almost believe she’d just walked out of the church, beaming from the happiest day of her life.

But her eyes say differently. Hollow pools of black, nothing behind them. She’s one of them.

“___, run.” Minho commands, not even turning to look behind him. He hopes you’re gone already, hopes you won’t have to stick around to see this dark side of him, the one that was used to doing battle with monsters every time he left the safety of your little bunker.

But you’re not gone. Your hand wraps around his, lifting it up to study the switchblade in his hand. He looks into your eyes, full of fear but also sadness at the sight in front of you, and he wonders if you see yourself in her. What things could have been with Junho.

“I don’t think she’s going to hurt us,” you wrestle Minho’s blanched fingers off the blade. “We should just go.”

You pocket the knife, Minho’s jaw tensing at the thought of leaving the woman behind, unsure of the potential harm she could cause. He opens his mouth to protest, but realizes you’ve already begun to walk away, your slumped figure visible against the setting sun. You’re crying again.

The woman wails harder when she sees the two of you go, her cries echoing into the silent night.

It’s cold tonight in the bunker.

You shiver among the pile of blankets, watching your breath turn into mist in the frosty air. Teeth chattering, you look over to Minho. His pile of blankets is even more sparse than your own, and you catch sight of his own trembling figure.

It’s cold, your voice echoes in the back of your mind, your feet dragging across the floor, the blankets dragging behind you.

It’s cold, it echoes again, Minho stirring when you lay by his side, throwing the extra blankets over the two of you. His eyes go wide with shock when he sees your face across his in the darkness, studying the way your hair falls messily in your face, the rapid rising of your chest with every breath.

It’s cold, it repeats a final time, your lips surging forward to meet Minho’s, a strange noise escaping his throat before one of his arms comes up to wrap around you, his other palm steadying him against the floor. It’s cold and Minho is warm, the heat from his body burning through you when his tongue traces your lips, before slipping inside, a low whine escaping your throat.

You break away from him, flushed and shivering, but no longer cold. Minho’s hot breath fans against your cheeks, his thumb resting tentatively at the curve of your jaw.

“Touch me please,” you beg him, and his grip around your waist tightens, hands tracing circles on your side. His lips find yours again, thumbs slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, resting against the curve of your hips. You burrow your face into Minho’s neck, leaving featherlight kisses against his jaw, heat rising in your chest when you hear Minho hold his breath. Breaking away, you meet his gaze, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Anything,” he whispers against your lips. “I’ll do anything for you.”

Sparks crackle in the air between you, the once stagnant air in the bunker becoming filled with frantic energy, you slipping a leg over to straddle Minho, him fumbling with the buttons to your clothes, pushing aside just enough to feel how wet you are. The fingers of his other hand trace under your shirt again, climbing up your stomach, thumbs brushing against the underside of your breasts before he tugs at your nipples.

Sighing, your hips move against Minho’s hardness, pushing aside the worn fabric of Minho’s flannel to press kisses to his collarbones, his thumb working on your clit. Your back arches when he presses another finger inside, and the familiar burn of your orgasm begins to rise, building in your stomach.

“Let go for me,” Minho groans, and the deep growl in his voice has you hurtling over the edge, trembling as you fall apart on top of him. The two of you exchange shallow breaths, Minho’s fingers still buried inside you, and you feel your core begin to clench around them, whining from the oversensitivity.

“Please, please, can I fuck you?” Minho whispers, desperation in his tone. You nod, head spinning with everything that had happened, and you reach back under his sweats, fishing his cock out from underneath them.

He pushes into you slowly, groaning when he feels your walls widening to accommodate him. The two of you stay there for a few moments, catching your breath before you tell him it’s okay to move. His hips snap lazily against yours, fucking you slowly and deeply, soft pants and the sound of your wetness reverberating through the bunker.

You rock against him gently, and you reach for his hands, his warm fingertips slipping through your own easily, limbs tangling together in desperation.

“You’re perfect god, you’re perfect, I love you, I love you so much,” he slurs the words, the confession ringing in your ears, soft groans accompanied by the speeding up of his thrusts before he spills inside you.

Lifting you off of him, his arms reach around your body to press you against him, his lips ghosting your forehead, and you feel the wet trail of tears on his cheeks. Eventually, his breathing slows, soft snores telling you he’s fallen asleep, but you remain restless for the rest of the night.

The headache hits Minho like a freight train in the morning, as he stares up at the rust-covered ceiling. There’s a faint chill in the air, one that became even more pronounced when he woke up and you weren’t by his side, and he wonders for a second if he’d imagined it all, from the softness of your lips to the way the words he’d been wanting to say, waiting years to say spilled out of his throat, every kiss and laugh you shared with Junho burned into his memory. And all he did was look on, hopeless in his desperation. Until everything changed last night.

A loud clang startles him, and he jumps up, watching you throw a heavy sack containing the supplies he’d stockpiled against the walls of the bunker, your back turned to him. He lifts himself off his feet, padding softly behind you, his arm reaching out for you.

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss, words clipped and venomous, and you keep rearranging, completely ignorant to the way Minho stands there, unable to formulate a response, his tongue feeling as though it’s weighed down with lead.

Rage lights up inside him as he watches you move around him, the silence making his heart freeze over, and he decides that he can’t take it anymore. It’s been months with you acting this way, cold and distant, refusing to let Minho in. Before, he’d been able to write off your happiness with Junho as an excuse, as a reason why he couldn’t let himself get close to you. But Junho was long gone.

“We’re not doing this,” he spins you around to face him. “You don’t get to walk away from me like that.”

You push against Minho’s chest with all the might you can muster, and he staggers back. The look in your eyes makes you seem like a wounded animal, ready to pounce.

“Why’d you say it?” Another push, the words leaving you in a broken sob. “Why’d you do that?”

You bat against Minho’s chest until he can no longer take it, grabbing both of your hands with one of his, pinning you against the wall.

“Because it’s true,” he breathes, looking past you through the window outside, unable to meet your eyes. “I love you ____. I’ve loved you this entire time, even when you were with Junho. And I hate myself for it.”

He lets go of your arms, stepping back, his shoulders beginning to shake with the force of his own sobs.

“Why do you think I stayed? Why do you think I put myself in danger every day to make sure that you had medicine for your ankle, food to fill your stomach? Why do you think I go out there and kill every single monster I run into, because I need to make it back here, to be with you again?”

“You shouldn’t!” you scream at him. “What kind of life is this? Love should be the last thing on your mind right now, Minho! You should fucking worry about your own neck, and stop giving a damn about me!”

The words tear through you, because you know that if it weren’t for his love, you wouldn’t even be alive right now. And it hurts, hurts to think of how long he’s spent living like this, merely surviving, a wall of ice around his chest.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t. But I do. Do you know that these past few months, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been? What kind of fucked up logic is that? I have nothing, nothing in this world besides this stupid bunker and the clothes on my back, and it makes me want to sob with joy. Because I get you. I get a chance at life with you, after so many years of wishing for it, and knowing I could never have it.”

He falls onto the ground, tucking his head into his knees.

“The universe gave me another chance,” he whispers softly.

Your blood turns to ice, and you crouch down next to him.

“What do you mean, another chance?”

He looks at you, and you finally see all the pain in his eyes come to the surface, everything that he’s kept bottled up inside.

“It should have been me,” he mutters, lost in his own head. “I told Junho about how I wanted to go up to you that night, how beautiful I thought you were, but before I could do anything, he was there. It ended up being him.”

Your head reels from his confession, and you think back to everything that’s happened through the years. All those memories you had with Junho, Minho lingering in the background, purposely keeping his distance. Memories that you could have had with him instead. Bile rises up in the back of your throat, and you back away.

“I can’t do this, Minho, not right now, I can’t–”

“I know.” He’s at the door before you can stop him, one foot on the other side of the threshold. “Don’t worry about it.”

He leaves before you can even ask him to stay.

Minho knocks back another shot, stomach churning when he sees Junho approach the pretty brunette, chatting her up. She’s batting her eyelashes and giggling at him, and he knows he should be grateful that his best friend is helping him out, on a desperate mission to cure Minho’s singleness.

But all he can focus on is you in the corner, nervously watching your boyfriend flirt with another girl, and Minho wants to vomit when he sees your lip tremble, eyes glassy with tears.

He’d driven himself nearly mad with the fantasies about what he’d do if he was in Junho’s position, how much better he could treat you. But at the end of the day, that’s all they were. Fantasies. You two were happy together, and he had no place in it.

Minho suddenly remembers the shiny ring that Junho had shown him last week, tucked away in the drawer of his dresser, and decides promptly that he needs to step outside, the stale air of the bar burning his nostrils.

There’s a faint breeze outside, and it calms him, rewiring his muddled senses enough for him to plop down on the curb. Minho heaves, the alcohol coming back up his throat, but he tries his best to breathe deeply, like his therapist had told him. The pity in her eyes when he’d explained his feelings for you lingers in the back of his mind. You were a vice he couldn’t quit.

A shadow looms next to him, and Minho looks over to see you standing on the curb next to him, studying him curiously.

“Not a fan of cheap vodka?” you chuckle, taking a seat next to him, and Minho internally curses when he feels your thighs brush. He was too drunk for this.

“Just needed some air,” he tries to laugh it off too. “Gonna have a killer headache tomorrow.”

“She was pretty,” the statement startles him. He couldn’t give less of a damn about the girl Junho was talking to, but it seems that wasn’t the case for you.

“Not interested,” he grits out. Not when she’s not you.

“You know, dating isn’t all it’s cut out to be,” you sigh. “I mean, there are good times, don’t get me wrong, but the bad times feel a thousand times worse when you care about someone. Like seeing your boyfriend flirt with another girl right in front of you.”

There’s a bitter edge to your words, and Minho surprises you, reaching over to cup your cheek and tilt your head towards him.

“Junho is a fool,” the words come out in a slow, heavy breath.

“Happy birthday, Minho,” you whisper, a small smile on your face, and Minho leans in, lips searching for yours. The kiss is quick, a brief graze full of shy reluctance, but you’re surprised you don’t back away, dizzy when he retreats, and missing the feeling of his soft lips.

You lean your head on his shoulder, the two of you lingering on the curb for a few moments, before Junho’s loud voice echoes in the background, startling you apart from each other.

“Hey dipshits, the party’s inside,” he drawls, walking over to swoop you off your feet. Junho presses a peck to your cheek, wrapping his jacket around you, and your eyes roam around frantically, looking for any sign of Minho. But he’s already gone, the faint outline of his leather jacket the only thing you see before he disappears around the corner of the bar, vanishing into the night.

Minho stumbles through the forest, the pounding in his head only growing worse, the memory of the kiss you’d shared consuming his thoughts, splintered with snippets from the conversation with you. The one he’d been waiting so long to have.

The spell had been shattered, and Minho thinks he’s foolish to imagine that it could have lasted, the two of you playing house together, and he cursed the false hope he’d harboured for so long. It was a fucking apocalypse, you were desperate for release, and you’d never cared. Not like he did.

But then his mind flashes back to the kiss, and he doesn’t know what possessed him that night, or possessed you to return it. The moment was the single spark that kept the flickering flame of his love for you going, even now, when you’d basically banished him.

A sharp pain surges through him, and Minho staggers to the ground. He clutches the fabric of his shirt, lifting it up to see the ugly wound he’d been letting fester for weeks, a stray swipe from a monster he’d run into. It’s pulsating now, stabbing into his side, and he wants to kick himself. Why had he been so selfless?

Sometimes, he thinks loving you was the worst decision he’d ever made, the way it consumed him completely. He thinks that maybe if time could reverse, and he had a second chance, that he’d never do it, never lock eyes with you from across the party, your smile forever etched into his memory. But that was a lie. Minho knew he’d do it all again for as long as his heart continued to beat.

Minho feels something squelch on the ground below him, a metallic tang hitting the back of his throat. He swipes at it, crimson coating his fingers. Blood. His blood. He presses a tentative hand to his face, swiping at his leaking nose, but the bleeding won’t stop. There’s too much of it.

Minho screams when his spine cracks, the pain splitting through his entire body, and he feels his eyes roll back into his head.

When he opens them again, the world is dark. And he runs.

. . .

Your lungs feel like they’re going to collapse, parched for air as you make your way through the forest, wobbling through the trees, looking for something, anything that could lead you to Minho.

Your heartbeat echoes in your ears, accompanied by a ringing that hasn’t ceased since you left the bunker. The decision still made your stomach turn, afraid to confront the outside world without Minho by your side, but you had to find him. Had to let him know that you wouldn’t let him suffer anymore.

Mind lingering on a specific memory from Minho’s birthday, you realized there’d always been a strange undercurrent between you, even when Junho had been around. Despite how many times he drew away from you, you never let him escape completely. At first, you’d thought it was because he was Junho’s friend, but it all changed after that night outside the bar, your attraction to Minho settling in your chest like a lead weight.

You think back to the months you’d spent together, the world falling apart around you, and how Minho had become your entire world, the reason you’d continued to hope. How you’d fallen in love with every part of him, from the way he’d let you take the first share of food to the messy strands of his grown-out hair.

The wind whips through your hair, the dense cover of trees thinning around you, and you stumble upon the meadow, a lone figure illuminated in the moonlight. You know it’s him.

“Minho!” you scream, watching as he stumbles across the field in response, trying to get away from you. “Minho!”

You scream until your voice runs hoarse, fighting through the pain in your ankle, and eventually, Minho draws closer and closer, collapsing in the middle of the field. His back is turned to you, and he ducks his head, avoiding your gaze.

You think he’ll run away when you approach him, but he remains lifeless, as still as a statue. Crouching down beside him, you lift his chin, turning his face up to you, a gasp caught in your throat at what you find.

There’s something wrong with his eyes. They shift from the dark brown irises you’d come to know to hollow pools of black. His face is smeared with blood, and his breathing is shallow.

“____, you have to go, I’m turning, it’s not safe, I’m not safe–,” Minho grabs your arm, looking at you with desperation in his eyes. His speech is garbled, but you can hear the gentle tone of his voice still trapped inside. He’s still Minho.

“How dare you tell me to run,” you hiss at him. “How dare you tell me to leave?”

“You don’t understand,” he growls, hands shaking in rage. “I’m a monster!”

Fear strikes you at the realization that something was very wrong with him, something neither you or him had ever been able to anticipate. But it’s overcome by a stronger, more profound emotion.

“I don’t care,” you take his face in your hands again. “I love you, Minho. I loved you through the world ending, and I’ll love you through this. Because your life is mine now, just like mine is yours. It’s our second chance. And we will do whatever it takes to survive.”

Minho clasps your hands in his, fingertips rubbing against your knuckles, and you smile when you notice that his eyes are normal again, no longer filled with darkness. Maybe there was a chance.

“We’ll head west,” Minho rests his forehead against yours, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I saw a hospital nearby. Maybe there are other survivors, people just like us.”

You nod, throwing your arms around him and burying your head into the crook of his neck. The two of you would exit west as soon as the sun rose, ready to start a new journey together.

Perhaps the life you shared was far from perfect but you realized that you’d clutched onto it as desperately as him, because he was the only thing you had. You were each other’s home.

a/n pt. 2: As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

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hell0mega · 2 months ago

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i think we as a society have slept on Lost AUs. imagine the entire cast of your favorite show or all of your OCs or literally just inserting your guys into the Lost cast where they've never met and they're in a plane crash and end up on a weird supernatural science fiction riddled island that brings out the worst in everyone and forces people to confront their past and actually a lot of the characters ARE involved in each other's pasts and they didn't even know it and they have to forage and hunt for food and fall in love and there's leftover secret cold war era science experiments and time travel. like. imagine how unhinged these 300k lost au fics could be if more under the age of 40 have watched lost all the way to the end

it just got put back up on Netflix btw

#LOST IS SO GOOD OKAY #lost #mine #au

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arikihalloween · 11 months ago

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Wakfu art dump because yes

This post is gonna be super long because I will ramble IN DEPTH today

So huh if you like my rambling or my art just read ig, otherwise scroll away idk what to tell ya

Showing some of my art and ramble because wakfu is part of my current big 3 hyperfixations ( along with WH and Trolls )

So huh enjoy my growing insanity ( I compiled it in one post to not annoy people too much :')

Presenting my oc Sharm !

An (very pink) Eliotrope

She's based on my in game character but I kinda gave her lore and a story so

⭐INFODUMP about Wakfu in general ! ⭐

Basic infos for those who don't know anything about Wakfu :

Wakfu is a french animated serie made by the studio Ankama, who also made several mmorpg games ( and way more, like the amount of content and lore is crazy)

Most of the stories will take place on the World of Twelves, populated by 12 main races (with many variation)

And there is a 13th "main race", the Eliatropes, which is the race of the main character of the anime, Yugo

Eliotropes ( with a o instead of a) are a subrace of the Eliatropes ( lore is explained in the serie but I don't wanna spoil, so to boil it down, Eliotropes are unstable pale copies of eliatropes) [ they are playable in the game wakfu]

So, what about Sharm ? Well she was born a pretty regular Eliotrope. She had two "brothers", Chance and Vitali, who unfortunately ended up fading away with time ( mechanically, when an Eliotrope die, his/her essence will go to the nearest Eliotrope to allow them to live longer)

So Sharm was left alone for very long, and stayed in Eliatropes ruins she found. Those were overgrown by stasis ( type of crystals, very bad, generally associated with corruption and destruction)

However, the essence she got from her siblings passing could only last so long

One day, in a desperate attempt to not die, Sharm took stasis and...ate it. Chewed on the mf crystals, and surprisingly, an interesting reaction occured : it stabilised her essence. It also made her basically frozen in development, Sharm cannot grow anymore and her power levels are quite limited in quantity, unless she uses stasis.

So my girl went through the ages, she kept on researching on the remnant of the eliatrope race ( wiped out aside from a few) and became sort of an archeologist

Nowadays, Sharm travels from a country/city to an other, often with mercenaries she hires as bodyguards . The other two ocs in this sketch page are the said mercenaries

And the cat is called Noiraude !

Sharm needs protection because she is stupidly useless in combat

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

And also I have fanarts of Nora !

And also, it's time for the gremlin mode

The worst of the ramble

I kinda just need to scream for a moment

Beware, big spoilers for the serie ahead ! Stop now and go watch Wakfu !! It's all on Netflix ( season 1, season 2, then the 3 oav, THEN season 3 and you will be ready for season 4 :D)

So, this character is Nora (second drawing is a headcanon version of her)

Who is Nora ? She is the sixth eliatrope of the Council ( Eliatropes are rules by the six first borns of the race who can reincarnate along with their dragon twin)

Nora appeared for the first time in a flashback the episode "Quilbi" in season 2

In 2011

And back then she was in a flashback, so presumed dead from the war that wiped out the Eliatropes

BUT

Lately, as clips and trailers of season 4 of Wakfu has been released

It's confirmed that Nora is there

She's alive

She's in season 4

*grabs u*

2011

She has been my favorite character of Wakfu since her one and only appearance, alright ?

And now

12-13 years later

She is real

SHE IS REAL AND ALIVE IN THE SERIE

*maniacal laughter*

I will not shut up about it

Prepare for the fanarts

*retreats to the shadows*

#and this was Ariki being crazy about a character that appeared only once in the serie #in my defense i'm not alone #Nora enjoyer rise with me #Nora l'Eliatrope #wakfu #wakfu fanart #wakfu nora #my favorite character in the serie #litterally appeared once #BUT NOW SHE IS REAL #wakfu oc #wakfu eliatrope #wakfu eliotrope #krosmoz #dofus #fanart #yk you can somewhat see a pattern in my favs #bubbly very pink feminine presenting character ? yes please #Nora - Amy Rose - Julie Joyful - Poppy #i am reclaiming the pink of my childhood lmao #i like pink #also if you notice Sharm's design is close to Nora's #that's because Sharm always was a ref to Nora when I play the game #NOBODY EVER NOTICED *cry*#and now in Sharm lore it's also intentional #Sharm purposfully dress and acts like what she knows of Nora from ancient transcripts #an archeologist kinning what she thinks is a demi goddess #well Nora is in fact a demi goddess in term of Wakfu lore lmao #but anyway #Ariki rambling in tags

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multiversxwhore · 1 year ago

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Netflix n chill

a/n: Just warning you guys, this is unedited, it's another one of my nonsense one shots. Where here for a good time not a long time type of ordeal. I was just so desperate to create something, and this idea would not leave me once I thought of it. Then I found out that MBJ loves anime so here we are. Enjoy, please reblog, and comment.

Pairing: Michael B Jordan x Black!oc

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1k

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

‘Kissin and hoppin they caught us, whether they like it or not, I wanna show you off…’ Doja Cat’s Agora Hills plays in the background. Mike had come over early that morning to spend the day with me. We were supposed to go out, but in the midst of me finishing up getting ready, things took a different turn. “Damn you look good, what��s that Fenty?” He stuck his head through the bathroom threshold, his chocolate eyes held something anamoros within them, and his lips were pulled back in a playful smirk. His dimples pressing into his cheeks adding a youthful flair to him. I turn the upper half of my body to him, in only my bralette and matching panty, his eyes drop to my booty. I grin as the beat drops again, he’s already taking off his denim jacket, and throws it over the door.

“Hold my hand, you can hit while they watch boy.” I sang along to the words, and rolled my body to the tempo of the music, one arm in the air. I hike my knee up on the bathroom face bowl, and pop my butt back. Mike grabs a handful of me with both hands, he buries his face in the crook of my neck, and inhales my perfume. Butterflies flutter at the pit of my stomach turning into desire, and traveling down right between my thighs. It reminds me of the first time we officially met each other inside the Met.

“Norielle Woodard! Look at you, you look ethereal. C’mon over here and talk to me.” Cardíerre Taylor-Johnson stood off to the side with a microphone in hand in front of a cameraman, and question cards in hand. Norielle carefully made her way over to her long time friend, and co-star, making sure not to trip in her heels. Seeing her cry for help through her almond shaped eyes, Cardíerre reached out a hand to steady Norielle. The theme that year was ‘All The Stars: Self Expression Through Fashion’ Cardíerre was fitted in a Thierry Mugler dress. From the breast to waist is a golden plated cast, with pinkish-rose gold chiffon fabric. She looked like a Roman goddess.

“You look gorgeous as fuck, what the fuck Cardi?” Norielle’s mouth dropped open, her eyes widened in astonishment, and took a step back to get a better look. Cardíerre let out an airy laugh, her smile bright, and her teeth perfect. Before Cardíerre could speak, Norielle’s eye dropped down to Cardíerre’s breast, “Goddamn.” She blurted out, the look on Cardíerre’s face caused Norielle to burst out into laughter.

“Jesus Nori, my eyes are up here.” The two friends giggled for a moment, it took Nori a few extra minutes to contain her laughter. Cardíerre rolled her eyes as she’s had enough of the goofiness, finally the interview was on its way. They chatted for a moment about the Met, and how amazing it felt for them to be surrounded by so many of their idols.

“So, we talk about fashion all the time, and how we try to incorporate our personalities into a bit of everything. Tell me what does tonight’s theme ‘All The Stars’ mean to you?” Cardíerre held the mic for Norielle to speak into. It didn’t take her long to think of her answer, “Well, if you think about the stars, and constellations in the sky at night, they all shine differently. Each constellation has a different shape from the other, and tells a different story, with a specific purpose. Ya know, I’m very dramatic, and I’ve been inspired by alternative, gothic like fashion since I was a young girl. So I was blessed enough to have been able to work with Alexander McQueen, and we collaborated on this dark victorianish design. And I just love it so much, with the florentine neckline to show off my twins, it’s also vegan leather and it’s giving medieval.” Norielle paused to let out a giggle, she took a breath before she carried on, “So that’s what I think we are meant to showcase tonight as stars in our own right. Showing our individuality through fashion, and oh, how everyone looks so stunning. Everyone really brought it this year, and I’m gonna shut up before I start crying.” Norielle pulled a tissue from her small clutch and dramatically damped her eyes. As the interviewer is wrapped up, and the two said their goodbyes Norielle made her way towards the notorious red carpeted staircase that led inside.

All was going well, she moved up the stairs slowly, or as slowly as was humanly allowed without looking like you were on an acid trip. She stood mid way up the staircase, posing so that her curves were more defined, she gave the photographers as many pictures as she could. Eventually enough was enough. By the time Norielle turned to take another step up she missed a step, and tripped. In an attempt to not fall face first she put her arms out in front of herself, and it did soften the blow. Audible gasps of shock, and worry could be heard all around her, she wanted nothing more than to be swallowed by the stairs. Only a few seconds had passed —though it felt like an eternity—when someone’s large hand gently touched my shoulder. Norielle lifts her head to see Micheal B Jordan standing over her with his other hand extending in offering. When their eyes locked something like a static shock sent a wave of rejuvenation through her nervous system. She knew he too felt the same thing, he looked taken aback by their sudden connection. Norielle took his hand, he grasped her firmly, and let her weight lean on him as she pushed herself upwards.

“I just embarrassed the fuck out of myself.” She whispered with a shaky voice, eyes burning with unshed tears, and a nervous smile on her glossed lips. Still holding onto her hands, he gave them a reassuring squeeze, and held her gaze. “Don’t even focus on that, let’s keep moving up, and then we’ll be inside.” Wordlessly Norielle nodded her head in agreement allowing Micheal to link arms with her as they ascended the stairs. Her heart was pounding so hard it nearly caused her pain, but then his voice began to speak calming words in her ear. In the midst of all the camera clicking, eager photographers fighting for the best shot, and buzzing conversations, they clung to each other the rest of the night.

When the night wrapped up, Cardíerre and the rest of Norielle’s friends were stealing her away for the evening. She managed to get his phone, and add herself as a contact as ‘Nori.’ When he called her at 5am the next morning they talked for hours, the beginning and of an inseparable relationship.

I planted glossy kisses all over Mike’s face, pressing my lips to wherever she could. His muscular arms pull me in impossibly closer, my arms wrap around his shoulders. Some would say our relationship is dramatic, but I would call it passionate. “So I take it we’re not going out anymore?” His grip relaxes upon hearing the strain in my voice, his lips graze over the shell of my ear barely kissing it before he pulls back. “Yeah no, I’m not feel it anymore baby.” He apologizes sheepishly, a feeling of relief washes over me because once he came in here with his bullshit I was no longer in the mood to be outside in the public either. That’s just how our relationship went, majority of the time we’re the same person, and I couldn’t be happier about it.

“Raising Canes?” I offer playfully, a knowing grin growing onto my lips, Mike pulls back, and his own smile mirrors mine. The dimples in his cheeks become more prominent, he dips his head down to kiss both of my breasts, the giggle that came from me turns into full laughter. “You go get changed, I’ll finish getting ready and we’ll just go get food and come home.” I pushed away from him halfheartedly, only after sneaking one last kiss from me did he leave me be.

On our way to Raising Canes the radio blasted too loudly for either of us to hear how terrible we actually sounded. I turned it down for a moment and turned to him from the passenger side of the car. “So, what do ya wanna watch while we eat?” We pulled into the drive through, as we sat in line, and waited for our turn to order Mike thought hard about it. A smile breaks out onto my face, I can practically see him doing the math in his head. “Hey, I take my tv watching to eating ratio very seriously.” He quips half heartedly, finally after what felt like forever he lets out a breath, “You know what I’m gonna say right?”

“Naruto?” I guessed without hesitation, now his smile mirrors mine, he leans in closer to me from his side of the car, his lips curl into a smirk. “Me, and you…right here.” He taps his temple with his index finger, and extends his hand for me to dap him up. “Same wavelength baby.” The hand slap turns into the fireball jutsu hand sign from Naruto, Micheal took what felt like hours teaching me that, so best believe we use any opportunity to do it. When it was our turn we ordered our usual combo meal, with extra fries, and sauce, then made our way home. As soon as my feet touched the inside of the house I was already sliding my shoes off, and removing my sweat pants. I got comfortable on the couch as I waited for Micheal to settle next to me, when I turned to see his bare legs I nearly choked on my spit from laughter. “What? I wanna get comfortable too!” I didn't even respond to him, instead I turned my focus to the tv, and turned on Netflix. Relaxing on the sofa, and watching anime, in my underwear was not how we thought the day was going to go. But I’d rather be doing this. Three episodes in, and half eaten take out, We were cuddled up on the couch in the living room with the tv blasting. I had just begun to doze off when I felt Michael hand slip into my underwear, and squeeze my booty. When I look up at him, his eyes move from the tv to me, the lust from earlier had crept its way back in, and I knew he wasn't going to let me sleep till he ate his desert…to be continued

Quick tags: @cardierreh15 @insatiableorsmthn

#black!oc #micheal b jordan #michael b jordan fanfic #headcannonxgalore

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ereardon · 2 years ago

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My Girl [Chapter 10][Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC]

Summary: Jake Seresin could be the answer to all of your dating woes. He’s the full package: steady job, mature, dependable, attractive to a fault. The polar opposite of every guy your age and he’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. But there’s one roadblock: he’s a single father to four-year-old Ellie. Jake is looking for a level of commitment you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give, and he’s not willing to bring someone into his daughter’s life who isn’t there for the long haul. And even if you are stepmom material, is Jake ready to let someone back in his life while still mourning the recent loss of his late wife?

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Lawyer Natalie West]

WC: 2.2K

Warning: Age gap, cursing, light smut

Series masterlist here

Please fill out this form here to join my tag list

“Not again,” Rebecca groaned as she approached your desk, the lavish bouquet teeming with roses perched precariously on the edge. You scooted it inward to safety and looked up at her with a grin.

“Sorry.”

“You so aren’t,” she said, stooping and smelling a bulb. “I think Harris has a literal Netflix and Chill night planned for us. How lucky am I?”

“You are lucky,” you said, swinging around in your swivel desk chair to face her. “He loves you. That’s lucky.”

“Safe to assume things are going well with pilot dad?” she asked and you chuckled. “I would say so, based on how beautiful these flowers are.”

You had always prescribed to the rule that you shouldn’t complain about significant others to friends or worse, family. Because then all they would ever be able to see would be the negatives. It was much easier to forgive your own partner than your friend’s or family’s partners.

So you simply nodded.

“He’s great,” you smiled. “And I love Ellie. Like truly obsessed with her. I know I said I was afraid of kids but she’s barely even a kid. She’s just this sparkly little person who always gets excited to see me. Like a dog come to life.”

Rebecca laughed. “So you’ve yet to see a tantrum?”

“Not yet.”

She stood up and straightened her skirt. “Oh, sweetheart, just you wait. They’re cute, until they’re not.”

You grimaced. “Not eagerly awaiting that.”

“So what are your Valentine’s plans?”

You shrugged. “Jake just said he’s picking me up at six and to wear a dress. That’s it.”

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “Curious. OK, I expect the full details on Monday.”

“I promise,” you said, crossing over your heart and you could hear her warm laugh as she sauntered down the hallway.

You smirked but as Rebecca’s long legs disappeared around the corner, she was replaced by Patrick’s hulking presence. You sucked in an involuntary breath, anticipation tight across every pore. He shot you an unreadable look before hooking right into a conference room. You let your breath out in a shudder.

It had been nearly a month since your face-to-face with Patrick. So far there had been no repercussions, no discussions with HR, no threatening emails, no taking you off of accounts. Somehow it had been swept under the rug.

Perhaps it had been, for him.

In your head, you were plotting revenge.

***

The doorbell rang exactly at six. You ran your hands down the sides of your pink dress, smoothing the tight fabric that fell from the off-the-shoulder sleeves down to your knees, the slit in the back letting air travel up mid-thigh. For some reason, you felt nervous. Your feet shook a little in the tall silver Louboutins.

Immediately, Ellie’s voice filled the hallway as you pulled open the door.

“Wow!” she said, awestruck, her tiny mouth open in a perfect “O” shape as she looked up at your dress. “You’re so pretty.”

You chuckled and bent down, pulling her into a hug, her fingers finding traction on your neck beneath your curled hair. “Hi peanut,” you said, standing up and taking in her sweet outfit: a small red dress with a pair of matching glittery shoes, a bow in her hair that was slightly crooked. You reached out immediately and set it straight, finally looking up to see Jake lingering behind Ellie with a grin spread across his handsome face.

He was wearing a navy shirt tucked into a pair of navy dress pants, a dark green crocodile belt slung around his narrow waist. You leaned over Ellie and pressed your lips to his cheek.

“Hey there,” you whispered.

“You look amazing,” he said softly. Ellie bounced at his heels. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, grabbing your purse and a wrap from the stair banister before following them out the door.

Jake had somehow found a fondue restaurant on the beach. Ellie was having the time of her life dipping bread and carrots into the melted cheese, and when dessert came around Jake let her choose two different sauces until she had both milk chocolate and white chocolate peanut butter remnants smeared across her face.

You held her in your lap once she had gorged herself on the chocolate dips, her eyelids already growing heavy. In the distance, the waves crashed onto the shore, a constant drumbeat that threatened to lull you to sleep, too.

Jake smiled at you over the table as you lifted a glass of wine to your lips. “Thank you,” he whispered. Sometimes it was hard to reckon with the fact that he was so insanely attractive. Even the smallest thing, like when he would smile at a waiter or the nimble flick of his wrist as he signed a check, underscored how gorgeous he was. Every time he looked at you was like a pinch me moment. The fact that he was yours. The fact that he had chosen you.

“For what?”

Jake’s eyes trailed down to Ellie, who had her head tipped back against your chest. She was either asleep or close to it. “I’m sure this isn’t the Valentine’s Day you had dreamt of,” he murmured.

You reached out one hand to grab his on the table, intertwining your fingers. “It’s perfect.”

A softness overtook Jake’s face. “I love you,” he said and it was so natural rolling off of his lips. But one look into his clear green eyes and you knew he meant it. He meant it with every cell in his body and every breath in his lungs. He was your heart, now. You were tied to him.

Back at the house, Jake carried Ellie gingerly from the car inside, putting her to bed after changing her out of her little red dress. There was a new stuffed walrus on her bed and you smiled as she rolled over in her groggy state, pulling the plush toy into her arms and falling fast asleep.

You followed Jake downstairs, where he pulled out a small bluetooth speaker, hitting play and instantly the quiet, dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra filled the living room. “Dance with me,” he said, holding out one hand.

Jake wound one arm around you, the other hand holding yours tightly between your chests as you swayed in a small circle. You laid your head on Jake’s chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. When you pulled back, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours and the world stopped turning on its axis for a moment.

There, in his living room, with Ellie sleeping gently upstairs and The Way You Look Tonight cooing into the evening air, you felt it. The way your world shifted, if just for a moment. Letting Jake in.

It was like up until that moment you had been filling a single journal page, and suddenly, Jake’s lips dancing across yours had flipped the page and you were starting anew. And there was nothing there but Jake. Just Jake. Lines and lines of descriptors for how his hands felt against your waist and the heat of his skin on yours and the dreamy way he looked into your eyes and you knew that you could trust him with your life.

Your life had split in two. Before Jake and after Jake.

There was no going back.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair, your fingers curling around the hair at the nape of his neck. “God, I love you. Watching you with Ellie tonight. How did I ever find someone so perfect?”

He pulled back, running one finger over your cheek.

“You’re it for me, Natalie,” he whispered. “I didn’t think I would find it again, but I did. And thank God it’s with you. I am so ridiculously lucky that it’s you.”

“Find what?” you asked quietly.

Jake’s green eyes softened. “True love.”

And then he leaned back down and pressed his lips against yours, gathering you into his arms, carrying you effortlessly upstairs and laying you down on the bed. The heat of Jake’s lips traveled across your neck and down your chest. He lingered for a moment on your lower stomach, like he would if you were pregnant. You could almost hear the thoughts clicking around in his mind. He wanted another kid. He was an amazing dad, you had no doubt that he would be the perfect guy to have a baby with. But before you could get too in your head, Jake’s lips dipped lower, his teeth nipping softly at the plush skin of your inner thighs before he pushed aside your silk thong, running his tongue across your wet folds, forcing a sigh out of your mouth as he took one hand and pressed your hips back into the bed.

“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he murmured against your heat. “Let me worship this body.”

And you let him.

Let him bring you to orgasm on his tongue, let him run his hands all along your trembling body, let him hold your hips so tight you were worried you might bruise as he slowly slid his cock inside of you as you clenched down on his massive length. Let him fuck into you while you buried your sobs of pleasure into the silk pillowcase, let him flip you around until you were on your knees and Jake had your back pressed against his chest, his mouth filling your ear with soft praises. Telling you how much he loved you. That you were made for him. That he never as long as he lived wanted to put his cock in any other woman, that you were it for him. You were the appetizer and the main course and the dessert. That no one else could compare to the way you felt around him.

You let him spill inside of you, his grunts heavenly in your ear, his hands gripping your breasts tightly, his chin falling to your shoulder.

And afterward, you let him pull you in close beneath the covers, run one hand across your side before landing on your neck. He pressed his lips to his favorite spot beneath your left ear and you wondered if the white-hot heat of his kiss would leave a mark. It felt like it was tattooed on your skin.

“Natalie?” he whispered as you started to drift off to sleep.

“Hmm?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

In the morning, you rolled over to an empty bed. The smell of pancakes wafted through your nostrils and you pulled yourself out of bed and down the stairs to find Jake and Ellie standing at the stove. He had her in his arms as she sprinkled chocolate chips into the pancake rounds as they cooked on the griddle. She laughed as her fist opened and a shower of chocolate dropped into the middle pancake and Jake shook his head.

“That’s way too much!”

“No, daddy,” she said as he put her down. “It’s perfect.”

“Good morning.” They both turned around with smiles and you stepped forward, accepting the coffee mug Jake offered.

“Ellie, sweetie, why don’t you go get Nat’s present?”

Ellie skipped off and you raised an eyebrow. “Present?”

Jake simply smirked and turned back to the pancakes in the pan. Ellie returned a moment later, holding out a small rectangular present wrapped in silver foil. She took a seat at the island counter and you slid a finger under the wrapping paper, revealing a sleek Ray Bans box.

“Now we match!” Ellie said, and you watched her slip on her tiny aviator sunglasses. You laughed, turning around to look at Jake only to find him also wearing a pair of matching glasses. You were laughing so hard you had to physically put your hands on your thighs to take a deep breath, coming to standing after a good twenty seconds and slipping the glasses on over your eyes.

“I love them,” you said. “Thank you both.”

“Ellie picked them,” Jake said, shoving the sunglasses back up on the top of his head and plating the pancakes. “Said she wanted everyone in the family to have them.”

Ellie grinned from her place at the kitchen island, and you watched Jake’s smile widen as your mouth dropped open.

Family.

They were your family now.

You looked around. The casual way that Jake slid two pancakes onto your plate next to Ellie. The soft smile he gave you as you hooked the sunglasses onto the collar of your sleep shirt. How Ellie washed her tiny, sticky hands in the sink using the stool that Jake had bought and helped her paint pink with daisies on it that lived permanently next to the sink so she could always reach the faucet.

You had walked into a family. You had known that all along. But the fact that they wanted you made your heart swell. Watching Jake whisper into Ellie’s ear and tickle her beneath her thin arms, her laughter filling the sun drenched kitchen, suddenly made everything fall into place.

He was the man you had always been searching for. And here he was, on a silver platter.

Were you ready?

A/N: A fluffy chapter as requested! We will start to get some conflict in the next chapter. This one is short, because I wanted to get it out and soothe some souls from last chapter!

Tag list: @double-j @seresinhangmanjake @topguncultleader @hangmandruigandmav @momc95 @minamisulemisa @shawnsblue @blue-aconite @brehonodea @crthurston @angelbabyange @jason-toddsthighs @secretsicanthideanymore @taytaylala12 @mandylove1000 @mizzzpink @showmethewayhomehoney @tvjunkie08 @mygyn @wkndwlff @sadpetalsstuff @shanimallina87 @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @starrynightskyz @daddymack01 @buxkybarnez @pookie-cleary @clairedelarosa-blog @princessofglitterland @tiredqueen73 @lovingjakeseresin @lilyevanswhore @kurtkunkle17 @amortentiadrops @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @abaker74 @xoxabs88xox @novagreen04 @townmoondaltwistle @rosiahills22 @indynerdgirl @entertainmentgal8 @misshoneypaper @starkleila @ebonyhogan24 @rosewritesitout @sammysimpin @khaylin27 @localhockeygirl @eyesthatroll @wildxwidow @wildlyobserving @bellaireland1981 @wittywhispers-blog @xomrsalliej4787xo @rosiahills22 @oiseul @showmethewayhomehoney @callsign-joyride @teacupsandtopgun @jordanturpen @sexytholland @daddymack01 @pookie-cleary @eternalsams @djs8891

#jake hangman fic #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin smut #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #my girl #hangman series #series

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fanaticsnail · 11 months ago

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Hi, could you do a romantic x reader oneshot Christmas theme 🎄 on Live action Roronoa Zoro 😍from- Netflix Series One Piece (Where the Straw Hats was seen throwing a Christmas Party at the Baratie where Zoro meets and falls for a beautiful traveler (who's Smoker's niece) who's on her way to Loguetown to visit her uncle. During the party as Zoro danced and flirted with the reader they was having a great time until they was finally alone together they ended up sharing their first kiss under the mistletoe which made the reader blush when she revealed that this was her first kiss)

(Details: The reader is Smoker's niece who likes to read, loves hot chocolate, loves animals, she's a vegetarian, her favorite color is blue, she's also a skilled archer and martial artist, she doesn't drink any kind of alcohol or liquor)

Hello my darling! Thank you for trusting me to fulfil your ask for a Christmas Zoro fic.

And here I thought after the Straw-Hat Mistletoe Fic I'd be all done with Christmas-themed one-shots!

I apologise for the delay in response: I spent the past weekend a few suburbs more inland with my family because ✨christmas be christmassing✨.

I prefer my requests come from non-anons so I can ask a few follow up questions regarding the flexibility with some of the prompts.

I haven't had a semi-oc suggestion before, so this is uncharted waters for me to have not so much freedom to explore how the plot goes in that regard. I also tend not to have reader be related to anyone in OP due to not quite being as far in to the anime as I would desire to get a better read on the dynamic (and because I'm a flirt by nature 💀).

Prompt overview so far:

Smokers niece

Baratie fic

Dancing

Reading

Hot chocolate

Xmas party

Innocence

First kiss

Skilled archer

Martial artist

Vegetarian

Loves animals

Blue favourite colour

Mistletoe

I don't think I'll be able to incorporate so many elements in with this fic, but I'll aim to get as many as I can physically fit into it without breaking the integrity. I usually prefer for the "reader" to be up for interpretation.

Fic Mood Board:

It may be more of a drabble than a full fic due to the proximity to the holiday period rapidly stampeding, and more ✨christmas be christmassing✨ will be had for me and my family.

Thank you for asking.

EDIT TO ADD: Fic completed. Something Like That here.

#zoro #fic request #zoro fic request #one piece #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x reader xmas fic

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honeybewrites · 5 months ago

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WIP Questionnaire Tag

Thank you @kaylinalexanderbooks for the tag and @willtheweaver for the tag!!

What’s the first part of your WIP that you created?

I guess the characters and world. I created EoWC so long ago it's kind of hard to remember what came first, but I do remember obsessively looking for a name for my main OC. It's actually the only name that hasn't changed in the series.

If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

I haven't ever actually looked into finding a theme song for it, but now I'm curious if I could...

What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

703 is one of my favorites. She's been one of the most consistent characters since the beginning. Rage and Healer Asurr are also some of my favorites. They're both really fun to write despite their stark opposites. One of them is a lovely Dad Vibes character and the other is a deranged mad scientist obsessed with creating the perfect species.

What other pieces of media do you think your fanbase would share?

Oof. That's a hard one. Um, maybe something with a lot of gore/fighting/supernatural? Like the Netflix Witcher series or SPN maybe? Found family is also a pretty big theme so maybe some other media with that. I'm not really sure what other lovers to enemies media is out there, but I imagine that would also be shared.

What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

Plotting. I know how the story plays out, but getting it down into a useable outline is by far my biggest struggle. That and organizing the dozens of scenes I've written into a coherent timeline.

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Lots of animals! Some from our world and a lot created specifically for EoWC's world. But the main animal/species talked about is dragons. Their culture, subspecies, abilities. They are by far the most fleshed out species.

How do your characters travel/get around?

There's a lot of different ways. Ships are common, as they can fly places quickly and travel through Bridges to other Realms. Ground transports are used, mostly only in cities. There are smaller ones, like cars, and bigger ones, like trains to get across a Realm easier. But for smaller cities, walking is most common. Even in the larger cities, walking is still a common way to get around.

What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

Right now I'm trying to organize everything. I'm trying to get all the things I've written laid out to an outline and given an appropriate place in the series. Then I'll actually be able to see what scenes I still need to write and hopefully get a cohesive draft together.

What aspects (tropes, maybe?) will you think draw your audience in?

Um, dragons? I love books with dragons, maybe a little too much. But in all reality, I think the lovers to enemies is what will probably draw people in. I'd also like to hope my world building draws in a few people because I love it.

What are your hopes for your WIP?

I would like to get it published. Self published, just because I think that would be more fun. But really, if I could just finish it, publish it or not, and have one person who loved it, that would be enough for me.

Tagging @the-golden-comet @anaisbebe @fractured-shield @halfbakedspuds @diabolical-blue and anyone else that wants to hop on!!

#writers on tumblr #writers tag game #writerscommunity #writeblr #wip

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luaspersona · 2 years ago

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march bts archive ♡

a few reminders before you go to the recs:

⇢ the list is composed with 10 bts fanfics i’ve reviewed (reblogged) during the month! it doesn’t include: ongoing series and series i haven’t finished.

⇢ my blog is +18, so even if this list has some sfw stories please, minors do not interact!

⇢ feel like i missed a work? send me your fics for me to review too ♡

Put it on me

authors ⇢ @jimilter pairing ⇢ jimin x reader genre ⇢ smut; humor; pwp; strangers to lovers rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 8k summary ⇢ When you signed up to model your cleavage for a jewelry commercial, no one bothered to tell you it wasn’t gonna be a solo shoot. It’s unfair being blindsided and you want to protest, but A-list model and flirt extraordinaire Park Jimin’s steel-cut abs have you kinda tongue-tied. And then you get kinda too busy thinking of other ways in which you’d like him to shut you up. why i loved it ⇢ honestly just straight porn, but super well written and with amazing descriptions and jimin is like, the sexiest menace alive, paired up with a ridiculously gorgeous reader. it’s unhinged and funny and i can’t get enough of it. ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)

hey, it’s me.

authors ⇢ @yoongiphoria pairing ⇢ namjoon x ex!reader genre ⇢ angst; kinda lovers to exes rating ⇢ PG-13, but the MJ's blog is +18 only word count ⇢ 0.5k why i loved it ⇢ MJ has this amazing talent of conveying big, everlasting and devastating emotions with simple, delicate words. she writes a ridiculously small drabble and represents all the loneliness one can feel, and is so creative too! the whole voicemail concept from closer is used so cleverly here, this feels like a punch but in the best possible way. ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)

the one with yoongi, netflix, and zero chill

authors ⇢ @eoieopda pairing ⇢ yoongi x reader genre ⇢ fluff; fuck buddies to ? rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 1.1k why i loved it ⇢ if jade being the author isn’t reason enough, i wanna say this drabble has soft yoongi and delicate, domestic intimacy with a very confused reader lol, it’s super sweet and it’s a birthday story too 🥺 ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)

Double Take

authors ⇢ @magicshopaholic pairing ⇢ hoseok x oc genre ⇢ angst; idol!au; unrequited love; neighbors!au; brother’s best friend!au rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 11.7k summary ⇢ Years after telling the neighbourhood brat to get a life, Hoseok does a double take when he realises she’s no longer the skinny kid who worshiped him once upon a time. why i loved it ⇢ i don’t often read unrequited feelings stories, but this one is just… mesmerizing. the best coming of age story i read in a minute, and written with such eloquence and with such interesting stylistic choices! you take zero seconds to empathize with the oc and i think it was so worth it, it made me lay for hours trying to process exactly how it made me feel. it’s part of a series, but you can read it as a one-shot and that’s why i felt like i NEEDED to add it to the list: it deserves so, so much praise! ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)

Covert Affairs

authors ⇢ @minisugakoobies pairing ⇢ spy!jungkook x spy!reader genre ⇢ angst; crime; rivals to lovers; smut rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 4.3k summary ⇢ The five times you cross paths with legendary spy Jeon Jungkook. why i loved it ⇢ this was just so perfect, the teasing and tension between the characters was amazing 🥵 if you like that sherlock x irene dynamic of rivals who are attracted to each other you HAVE to read this — but pay attention to the warnings! ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)

all you’re giving me is friction

authors ⇢ @hot-soop pairing ⇢ surfer!seokjin x lifeguard!reader genre ⇢ travel!au; angst; smut; fluff; strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers. rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 28.3k summary ⇢ You’ve graduated! Congratulations - you’ve got one thing checked off your parents ten year plan! Now all that’s left to do is start your dreary office job, drag yourself up the ladder to CEO, marry your (as yet unknown) dream guy, and carve out some time to pop out a few kids before your ovaries shrivel up… Except all of that sounds horrendous, and you’d much rather spend the next three months at Hoseok’s beach house with your closest friends - relaxing, partying, and sleeping late while you still can. And it would be your last perfect summer break, if it weren’t for the most irritating man on the planet (and his chickens) living next door. why i loved it ⇢ seokjin has chickens and he names them after league of legends characters, and i think that’s about enough evidence as to how amazing this story is lol. for real? i was laughing, i was smiling, i was crying: it gave me EVERYTHING i could’ve asked for ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)

mixtape

authors ⇢ @jungblue pairing ⇢ yoongi x reader genre ⇢ college!au; podcaster!au; humor; smut; fluff; strangers to lovers rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 15.6k summary ⇢ Two mystery students from your college run the podcast dubbed ‘mixtape.’ It’s become a sort of phenomenon around campus, listened to by almost everyone. In their most recent episode they discussed various study methods… One of them being oh so tempting. why i loved it ⇢ this fic is just so unbelievably charming, istg. all the dialogue is ridiculously interesting, and yoongi’s dynamic and chemistry with the reader just made feel like a teenager with her first crush. is really fucking amazing, i was completely in love with the story right off the bat. ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)

the lingerie era

authors ⇢ @yoon-kooks pairing ⇢ yoongi x reader genre ⇢ neighbors!au; fluff; humor; smut; friends to lovers rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 10k summary ⇢ Sending Min Yoongi, aka your ridiculously hot neighbor/childhood friend, a photo of yourself in lingerie might be the best or stupidest mistake you’ve ever made. why i loved it ⇢ min yoongi teasing the hell out of reader and struggling to communicate like an adult is my favorite trope lmao. this story is so sexy and so wholesome and so fun and so— *ahem* anyway, this was 100% worth it, i loved every second 😭 ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)

liar, liar

authors ⇢ @eoieopda pairing ⇢ hoseok x reader genre ⇢ fuck buddies; smut; pwp rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 5k summary ⇢ Hoseok suspects that you’re “phoning it in” while sexting and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t call your bluff. why i loved it ⇢ dom!hoseok. that’s it. that’s the reason (ok maybe jade’s writing too because everything they touch is perfect but that’s beside the point), oh and so much teasing y’all, this is a dangerous one. ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)

what, now?

authors ⇢ @nabiolive pairing ⇢ jungkook x reader genre ⇢ fluff; smut (pwp); friends to lovers. rating ⇢ +18 | minors do not interact word count ⇢ 13.6k summary ⇢ For as long as you and Jungkook have been friends, your feelings for him have been unrequited. Or have they? why i loved it ⇢ to be honest this wasn’t in the list until yesterday, but then i decided to get through some of my trl and read this and… god, it’s just way too good. jungkook with freaking dick piercings and a sweet confession that leads to the most affectioned yer rough smut out there lol, please read this 😩 harrow is such an amazing writer i can't possibly stress this enough ⇢ my full review (with spoilers!)

links ⇢ navigation | reviews | rec lists

#bts fic #bts fanfic #bts recs #bts recs list #luareads #luarecs

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lostfirefly · 10 months ago

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You’ve Got The Same Dream as Me (Ch. 2)

Hello, kiddos! The idea for this fanfic came to me from a dream (again) I had about a month ago. Тhe main characters were Tom Cruise and Henry Cavill (don't ask me why), but with a light hand they have been replaced (sorry, guys). The main action of the dream took place somewhere in the sands. Аlthough this fanfic will feature Sir Crocodile and our beloved Buggy, the action shifts to the desert. No marines, ships etc. Sorry, not sorry :) The devil fruit's abilities are preserved. Catch the Mummy and Indiana Jones vibes :) I have no idea how many chapters there will be. Different titles and names from the original source material will be used to emphasise the general OP's vibe.

Since English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

And thank you to my dear @yujo-nishimura and @laurasoretta for believing in me :)

Description: Catherine, a librarian who is searching for the trail of her sister who went missing on an expedition. Notes in books and diaries lead her to Cairo. There she finds a retailer from an artifact shop who, in exchange for selling her a map and equipment, insists that Catherine take her along. They get into a little (or maybe a big) adventure..

Warnings: 12+, I think. As always, no smut, angst, violence. Adventures and fun only. Buggy x OC, Sir Crocodile x OC.

Words: 770

The title is taken from «You've Got the Same Dream as Me» (Sonya Belousova & Giona Ostinelli) (One Piece, Netflix)

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Chapter 1

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Catherine set her alarm clock for five in the morning.

She quickly washed up, drank coffee in her hotel room and hurried to the bookstore.

Even though the store opened at 9 a.m., she was on the porch at 6:00 a.m.

"God, I'm such an idiot. What if the book isn't there? Then what? I've traveled hundreds of miles to get here for nothing? No, it can't be", Catherine mumbled to herself, tapping her feet on the paving stones.

At 8 a.m., a figure began approaching the store.

Catherine squinted slightly trying to make out the man.

"It's a girl! Thank goodness it's a girl! Why I thought Rika was a man's name?", Сatherine's mind was spinning with all sorts of thoughts.

Finally, the girl with brown hair and green eyes came to the door.

"Hello, you're Rika, aren't you? I'm Catherine Mitchell", Catherine said, rising quickly from the steps.

"I'm very happy for you that you're Сatherine. But the store is closed until 9:00 a.m".

"W-wait... I need..."

Suddenly the door slammed shut in front of the bewildered Catherine's nose.

"What the fuck?!", Catherine started knocking on the door. "Hey, you, open your damn door! Open it!"

Without waiting for an answer, Catherine peered through the small window near the front door and saw the girl quietly making tea.

"Brown-haired bitch!", Catherine cursed and plopped down on the porch.

9 a.m. Finally, the click of the lock was heard.

"Yes!", Catherine jumped up from her seat and stormed into the store without a moment's hesitation.

"May I help you?", the girl asked with a smile.

"Take that smile off your pretty face. Don't pretend like you didn't see me on the porch, bitch!" Catherine shouted, slamming her fist down hard on the counter. "Damn..."

"Are you ok?", the girl asked.

"Fuck..", Catherine rubbed her wrist. "None of your business. Anyway, as I said I'm Catherine Mitchell. I know you have Professor Alabasta's book".

"How did you know about this book?", the girl was clearly surprised.

"It doesn't matter. I know you have it. I looked it up and your store is the only one in town that has it. How much is it worth? I'd be willing to buy it", Catherine tried to look more confident with her arms crossed over her chest.

"For the record, young lady, I'm Rika, the owner of this store and I don't need to be spoken in the tone like that", said the girl, wiping the dust on the counter.

"What? I...", Catherine took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm sorry", she said reluctantly.

"Oh", Rika said with a sigh. "Once again, Catherine Mitchell.. What are you looking for?"

Catherine tried with all her might not to lose her temper. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, took a few deep breaths, counted to five and continued.

"I'm looking for Professor Alabasta's book with a silly name "The key to the treasure". Please.. I read you have it".

"Maybe I have.. or maybe not", Rika said, arms were crossed.

"Look.. My sister. She's gone. I'm looking for her. One of the last entries in her diary points to the professor's book. Apparently, she's gone somewhere in the desert, but she's lost her trail. I came here to find her. Please...", said Catherine, her blue eyes were wet with tears.

"The desert? You mean.. the Sabaody Desert?" Rika asked, her eyes were widen.

"Yes!!", Catherine hurriedly pulled out the journal with the entries. "See? The coordinates in the journal point this way. But to get there, I need Professor Alabasta's book. And equipment..."

"Jesus Christ", Rika said, looking at the notes and scratching the palm of her right hand. "Wait... What exactly are you looking for? Your sister? Or something else?"

"Something else?" Catherine asked in surprise.

"Oh, God, don't tell me you've never heard of the treasure that lies somewhere in that desert. It's supposedly hidden in the area your coordinates indicate. It's not certain, but it could be".

"I'm not interested in the treasure, I just want to find my sister. Before I left here, I went through her bedroom and found this", Catherine put on the counter some maps, another diary and pieces of paper with various notes.

"You know, darling", Rika stretched, tapped her fingers on the table and cast a glance at Catherine. "I'll sell you the compass, the equipment, the map and whatever else you need, but I have one condition. I'm coming with you".

"Where are you going with me?"

"Shit! Where your coordinates point, you fool! I wouldn't turn down an offer like that. I'm an excellent map reader. But, frankly speaking, it's dangerous to go alone there. We need a guide to help us get there,", Rika leaned on the table, propping her chin up with her hands.

"Do you have someone in mind for us?"

"Uh, kind of.. Yeah", Rika scratched her cheek with her finger. "Tell me. Do you like the circus?"

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adeanthepurpledragon · 10 months ago

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My idea for a Pete’s Dragon AU story

I have an idea for a Pete’s Dragon AU story with Adean as the role as Elliott the Dragon and her best human child friend Billy as the role of Pete except Adean will be a former human now a dragon shifter and Nemo not being a orphan child inslaved by mean guardians or lost in the forest after his parents died, no, I want my human child character being Nemo from the Netflix movie Slumberland be supported by her uncle Philip but wishes to have a friend outside her family like her Uncle Philip and her father Peter who died at sea and was a former lighthouse keeper later to meet a big purple dragon named Adean Eris Micheals who was formally a normal human girl but now a form of a big lovable purple dragon who ventures along with Nemo through different worlds in the Dream Realm as well as different worlds in the waking realm.

Nemo rides on Adean’s back throughout the different realms in both the dream realm as well as the waking realm.

I think Adean and Nemo could be good friends and go on all sorts of adventures together as they meet new friends as well and different creatures while going on different adventures together while Nemo still has a a close relationship with his uncle Philip as well as him getting to meet and know Adean.

I don’t know yet it’s just a story idea that I might need to brainstorm out before I write it online on my Wattpad account but I also want to write other stories too outside of Adean and Nemo’s adventures together traveling to other worlds.

I might want to write other stories like of Brand New Animal, TMNT, Mighty Morphing Power Rangers, Pokémon, Digimon, Beastars, Disney and so much more.

So I just made a Brand New Animal of named Vaz Summers a coyote beastman oc that’ll fit in my crossover world of Brand New Animal and TMNT and so on maybe.

But so far I want to do this story of Adean and Nemo’s adventures together, I don’t have a title for it yet but I’ll try to get a good title in once I start brainstorming ideas for my story before I write it on my Storyist app then on my Wattpad account.

@kingnice1219 @drake-the-highlander @jaysmily2919 @alexcanine

#dragon #cartoon dragon #Pete’s dragon AU #adeandragon #adeanerismicheals #original character #nemoslumberland #adventures in slumberland #petesdragonoc #story ideas #story retelling

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years ago

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Onyx Eyes & Spooky Antiques | Rhett Abbott Imagine | Outer Range x Addams Family

Contains light spoilers to Netflix’s ‘Wednesday’

My Masterlists

Characters & Pairings: Rhett Abbott x Persephone Addams!OC (Romantic), The Abbott Family, The Addams Family, Maria Olivares

Content Warnings: fluff, morbid sense of humor (typical Addams family style), slight profanity, slight spoilers for ‘Wednesday’, bullying and slight animal cruelty. Cannon divergence | Female OC (she/her) | Wc: 9k

Premise: Returning to Wabang with a broken heart, Rhett Abbott longed to be able to open up to someone without history repeating itself. When his niece, Amy, requests out of the blue to go to a antique store he had yet to discover, the familiar name attached to it has him thinking back to his high school days. Now ten years after wondering what happened to the oldest daughter of Wabang’s most peculiar family, Rhett gets his answers…and possibly something more along the way.

Note: omg I don’t know why this came to mind, but after binging ‘Wednesday’ and hyper-fixating on Rhett Abbott and Top Gun lately I just wanna do a Addams family crossover series/dribbles. This was in my head for at least a good day before I got to writing it and it’s probably one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. I hope y’all enjoy and just know there is some cannon divergence to fit the narrative. Let me know if yall liked this because I’m thinking of doing a whole Drabble list of my Addams!OC x Rhett Abbott (like Rhett meeting the Addams family, his reacting to the relationship, Maria returning, etc) if this gets well received. 🥺

———————————————

“Can you take me to Addams Antiques, Uncle Rhett?” The plate Rhett was washing nearly slipped from his hands. With wide eyes he turned to his side to find Amy holding out her own plate with puppy dog eyes. In his head he thought, ‘did I hear her right?’

“Run that by me again.”

She gave a sound that resembled an annoyed sigh, “Can you please take me to Addams Antiques? It’s over by the farmers market grandma is always going to after church.”

“I don’t remember that being there months ago,” Rhett mumbled, drying the plate before placing it on the dish rack and taking the one from Amy. It had been about a month since Rhett returned home after the shit show that was his relationship with Maria. After years of harboring a crush on her, Rhett thought he finally got the chance he was dreaming of.

But it didn’t go as planned. Now he was stuck home again, bull riding his way to make enough money to leave and helping his parents with the ranch. What he enjoyed the most being back was getting to spend time with Amy. She had updated him on all that was new in town and what he missed when he was gone. Hearing there was an antique store sharing a familiar name he hadn’t heard in a long time was something new.

Though Adams with one ‘d’ was a common last name, Rhett only knew of one family who spelled it with two. The Addams family, who lived on the outskirts of town in the middle of nowhere between the hills and mountains—closed off from the rest of civilization. None of the locals dared to travel close to their spooky mansion that seemed to have its own fog surrounding it along with their private graveyard.

The Addams family had moved to the small town of Wabang over ten years earlier. A wealthy family, they invested in several businesses and owned many of their own including the town’s funeral home and floral shop (which only sold bouquets in the color palette of red, white, black, and grey).

Their appearance was a shock to the many generations of residents who were put off by their gothic style and peculiarity views of life. Rumors immediately spread upon their arrival: that their butler was actually Frankenstien’s monster, that the uncle was a wanted fugitive. Many were certain their fountain of wealth came from dirty money that the father Gomez was involved in. His pinstriped suit and cigar hanging from his mouth made him look like a gangster from the 20s. Women, envious of the beautiful Morticia, voiced her to be a vampire or witch who cursed people that disrespected the family.

They might be right with their suspicions—considering when a drifter attempted to cop a feel on her and began having a seizure.

Gomez and Morticia were the couple everyone in Wabang looked at with distaste yet silently admired. Everyone saw how genuine their love was for each other and their family. Gomez worshiped the ground Morticia walked on, and Morticia always looked at Gomez as though it was the first time she saw him.

Then there were the children. Three very odd children who were known to say or do things that were unorthodox to the conversative townsfolk. The youngest, Puglsey, seemed to always wear a striped t-shirt and shorts who enjoyed vandalism and partaking in whatever his sister Wednesday was up to. Wednesday, the middle child and youngest daughter, was never seen without her long black pigtails and stone cold face. Her monotone voice and habit of saying the most morbid things scared away kids her age—not that she minded, in fact, she enjoyed scaring them. A prodigy on the cello, Wednesday was asked to play for the high school when she was still an elementary student….until she was kicked off for setting fire to the band room at practice when the kids stole her music sheets to sabotage her.

Lastly there was the oldest, Persephone. Named after the Greek beauty herself. She was ten years older than Wednesday and twelve older than Pugsley. Like her siblings, Persephone was pale with straight black hair that fell above her shoulders and plump dusty rose lips she often painted with blood red lipstick. Cheekbones high with jawlines that could cut through wood. She stood out like a sore thumb in school with her black attire that contained lace, leather, skulls, roses, and all things dark. At school she mostly kept to herself, hiding away in the library or the art room during study hall and lunch. People snickered as they would pass her, write ‘freak’ in sharpie on her locker, or gave looks of distaste.

Persephone never paid any mind to them. She never gave the attention they desired which only made them more frustrated. Hardly would she speak to anyone, save for the teachers, but every now and then she’d make a witty comeback to whoever insulted her which left the entire classroom speechless. Like when Destiny Samuels told her she looked like she was always dressed for a funeral and Persephone, deadpan, went, “I’m practicing for when I attend yours.”

Destiny never made eye contact with her ever again.

Rhett remembered Persephone. She transferred to the high school at the beginning of his junior year and was already far ahead than most in their class. At no point would Rhett consider her a friend or even an acquaintance. The only time he ever found himself close in proximity with Persephone was when they sat next to each other in Spanish—though he couldn’t remember ever seeing her do class work because it was learned quickly that Spanish was her native tongue and spoke in full conversations with the teacher rather than partake in the lecture. Then one time Rhett was passing the French classroom during free period and overheard her speaking full French with the teacher.

The week later, Rhett was serving detention and had to clean out the gym where he found Persephone in a heated fencing duel with a person he’d never seen before. Turns out, it was her private coach and Persephone was training to take home the national title.

She did, not allowing her opponent to get a single point in. The news came with her face plastered on every newspaper in the state. To the surprise of everyone, Persephone donated her earnings to the elementary school for new computers and library books. Not too long after, once people got over their jealousy, parents were—with hesitance— approaching Persephone to ask for fencing lessons for their children.

And you can best believe she charged high prices.

There were two times where Rhett Abbott exchanged words with Persephone Addams. The first happened when Persephone was purposely bumped into by Maria and her crew—the group giggling as the contents in Persephone’s hands spilled to the ground. At the time Rhett was sporting a massive crush on Maria and was going to ignore the situation like everyone else, but something in his head told him he’d feel guilty—and his momma raised him better than that. Even if she thought the same of the Addams family as the whole town.

So when Rhett knelt down to help gather some pages that scattered, he saw the visible reaction of Persephone, who paused slightly before shuffling through her bag to throw in pens and markers. Not a word was spoken as the two cleaned up the mess. Rhett was careful to not accidentally tear the papers, which he recognized as some of her artwork. It was all done in charcoal and oils—mostly consisting of spiders, snakes, graveyards, castles, with a few portraits of historical figures and her family. Rhett couldn’t help but let his eyes linger. They were beautiful.

“These are really good,” he said before he could stop himself. The words have Persephone still, finally looking up to him after keeping her head down the entire time. Here Rhett was able to get a better look at her face and he felt the air catch in his throat.

She was mesmerizing.

In class Rhett only ever saw her side profile which was often concealed by her dark hair or scarf. Now it was less than five feet from him and clear as day. There was not a blemish in sight on her pale skin and the contours of her cheeks were what models strived for. Her eyes were nearly black like onyx and accentuated by the eyeliner framing them with thick long lashes that gave her an almost doll-like appearance. It was like she was a character from a Tim Burton movie.

“Thank you,” even her voice was haunting and sensual. The simple phrase sends chills down Rhett’s arms. “And thank you…for helping me. That was very kind of you.”

Rhett forgot how to think, blinking rapidly as he began to stutter, “U-uh, yeah-yeah. No problem.” He extended his hand holding the drawings, watching her own reach out to take them. Her manicured nails were painted the same color as her lips, blood red. Rhett flinched as a spark of electricity coursed through him when her finger brushed over his. When he looked up, she was frozen in a daze. Rhett frowned, confusion filling him as he snapped his fingers in front of her only to be met with no reaction.

It was like she was a robot that lost its battery.

Suddenly he was jumping back when she rapidly blinked. “Sorry!” She said, quickly snatching the papers and closing them into a random book before gathering the rest of her belongings. Standing up in a rush, Persephone turned on her heel and rushed down the hall to the class she was now late to. Rhett was left crouching on the ground, a pink hue to the top of his ears as he tried to wrap his head around what happened. People were looking at him like, ‘were you really talking to the Addams freak?’ Not liking the looks, Rhett scurried off to his class—knowing it was going to be the talk of the school for the rest of the week.

And it did…ending horribly. Well not for Rhett, per say, but for Persephone.

Words spread like wildfire in Wabang and the high school was usually at the center of it. So when the news of Rhett helping Persephone Addams broke, followed by a classmate catching sight of a portrait she drew of him, some people found it as bait.

Especially Maria.

Maria saw it as an opportunity to poke fun at the oldest Addams. Even though it was well known Persephone was a loner at school, it didn’t stop people, especially Maria, from being envious of her. Persephone was naturally beautiful, a prodigy in fencing and the arts, intelligent to the point where teachers hardly gave her class work because she already knew the material inside and out and didn’t give a fuck about what others thought of her.

Getting attention from Rhett and possibly having a crush on him was enough to fuel the fire slowly burning in Maria.

And so the Friday before spring break of their junior year, Maria gathered her friends and broke into Persephone’s locker during their study hall while she was in her AP English class. To their shock, not only was the locker filled with plants, but also found a large grey rat in a cage running on a wheel perched on the top shelf. “She is the type to have weird pets,” Maria cringed, taking the cage in her hands while someone ripped the vines and flowers from their pots. Finally they spotted the black leather bound book they figured was her sketchbook and snatched it.

When Rhett exited his U.S History class that afternoon, the sound of laughter coming from the next hallway drew his attention. People had their phones out and were taking pictures or video recording. “Damn, did you see the look on her face!” He heard someone laugh. “I knew she had a crush on Abbott—I caught her eye fucking him the other day in Spanish.” As he came around the corner Rhett froze at a horrible sight.

Not only was Persephone covered in a red slushie, but several of her drawings were torn to pieces and hanging on the lockers. Rhett spotted Maria on the opposite side, holding her stomach from how hard she was laughing while her friends mirrored her on either side. Then his eyes drifted over to what Maria had in her hand, recognizing the style of charcoal in the portrait. His own face stared back at him.

Persephone had drawn him. The only color being that of his cerulean eyes in contrast to the black and grey of his visage. It was so detailed it was like he was staring in a mirror.

He couldn’t even react because soon the situation took a darker turn when something dropped from the ceiling, hanging in front of Persephone so it was eye level. It was a lifeless grey rat.

“Should’ve known a freak like you would keep rats for pets, Addams,” Maria snickered, watching as the teen’s eyes widened as it stared back into the dead eyes of their pet. “I bet you even have his grave plot reserved at home. Huh?” Maria crumbled the drawing in her hand, throwing it at Persephone which ended up hitting the rat causing it to hit her in the face. It sent another wave of laughter through the crowd. “Oh and forget about that little crush of yours. No one in this town will ever get with a freak like you. Enjoy your spring break—have fun burying your pet.”

Everyone dispersed after that, leaving Persephone—save for Rhett—in the middle of the hall. Shaky hands came up to wipe the residue on her face before gently taking the rat in her hands. Rhett waited until everyone was gone, ignoring the way people clapped him on the back with the snide, ‘go get your girl, Abbott,’ before walking up to Persephone.

She didn’t look at him, keeping her head down to gaze at the dead rat, running a finger over his neck to find it crushed. Rhett picked up the crumbled paper, unraveling it to reveal the drawing of him. When she didn’t react, Rhett took it upon himself to remove the torn pieces of the artwork off the walls. They were the same ones he saw that monday along with a few others he assumed were new.

Anger filled him, furious at Maria and the entire school for committing such a cruel act. The drawings were not only torn but also marked with sharpie with the words, ‘freak,’ and ‘witch.’ There was even a drawing of a stick figure tied to what appeared to be a stake. What the fuck was wrong with people? And to kill a rat and throw a slushie on Persephone to humiliate her? How could anyone condone that when she did nothing to them.

“Hey,” he approached her when he got all the pieces. Her dark hair glistened under the light from the liquid, red staining her face and neck. It just so happened Persephone was wearing a white dress that day under her blazer so the fabric was now ruined. Black streaks streamed down her face as a result of the eyeliner she was wearing. Rhett felt his heart clench, sympathy overtaking his anger. “I-I I’m so sorry. Uh-I had no idea—t-that Maria would do—.”

“Not your fault,” she cut him off gently. Rhett watched in silence as she took the cage sticking out of the trash can to place her rat in before placing it to the ground. Without looking at him, Persephone took the papers and discarded the torn pieces, keeping the crumbled one of him in her hand. Next thing Rhett knew she was handing it to him, “Here. You can have this. Unless you find it weird and then you can throw it away. I don’t mind whatever you choose.” And so she stood with her hand out, waiting for Rhett to take it from her.

He wasn’t sure what to think. Part of him felt confused as to why she felt the need to draw him, another part of him a weird feeling of warmth. Hardly any girls ever paid attention to him. With a slight blush, Rhett gently took the sketch—trying not to react as another spark of electricity hit him when their fingers touched, however Persephone did as a pink hue appeared on the apples of her cheeks.

Finally she met his eyes. Onyx meeting blue. And Rhett frowned at the sight of water lining her eyes. On Monday when Maria had deliberately pushed her, she was obviously annoyed but remained stoic. Here, Pesephone’s face was tight, showing it took everything in her not to become emotional.

“Thank you for all your help,” she whispered, bottom lip trembling as she gulped. “Have a lovely spring break, Rhett.” And again, she was gone before he could get another word out—gripping the cage and her bag in either hand and speeding out the nearest exit.

That was the last time Rhett saw Persephone Addams.

After spring break Rhett was back in school and the first thing he noticed was the empty seat beside him in Spanish class. It didn’t concern him, for sometimes Persephone would spend the period in the library since she already spoke the language. But then Tuesday it was empty again—and Maria was gone too. And then Wednesday. Finally on Thursday, Rhett got the answer to why Persephone and Maria were a no show all week.

“You didn’t hear?” Travis Coleson from his Chemistry asked with wide eyes. Rhett just gave him a look that read, ‘I wouldn’t have asked if I did.’ In response, Travis scotched over and leaned in to whisper so the teacher couldn’t hear. “On Monday during Mrs. Parker's third period, Addams waltzed in—mind you she doesn’t have that class at all—and slammed Maria’s head to the desk. Then the psycho dropped a black widow spider onto her face! It bit her on the cheek from what I heard and they had to call an ambulance.”

Rhett couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “Holy fuck,” he muttered, bringing a hand to caress his jaw. His thoughts were swarming. On one hand he felt a little bad for Maria—mostly because he for some odd reason still had a crush on her—but on another felt she deserved it after the stunt she pulled. Although, ending up in the hospital is a tad bit far. “Is um— they okay?”

Travis made a face at the question, “well besides being traumatized and having a large red spot on her face, Maria is just dainty,” he spoke with obvious sarcasm. “Addams on the other hand got expelled. Last I heard my folks caught sight of their family car leaving town Tuesday and returnin’ this mornin’—but no sign of Persephone. Rumor is they sent her to some boarding school out of state.”

Rhett frowned at the news, licking his lip as he turned away from Travis deep in thought. There was an odd feeling in his stomach—one he had trouble describing. It carried with him all day, turning into nausea when he spotted Maria hiding in the corner of the cafeteria with her friends—a large bandage covering her cheeks. She looked tired with red puffy eyes as if she had been crying for a long time.

The rest of the year Rhett never saw Persephone Addams. Then one year became two, and soon they added on till he lost count. While he never forgot Persephone, Rhett no longer found himself thinking about her after that first year. On occasion he wondered how she was doing whenever his parents brought the Addams family up. Especially when a new business opened that was attached to their name. “Maybe you should try getting a part-time job at that liquor store over by the tobacco shop, Perry,” Cecilia said one random dinner when Rhett was twenty. It made everyone—minus Amy—stop eating and look at her incredulously.

“That’s the ones owned by the Addams family, ma.”

“I know,” she shrugged, trying not to show any sign of aversion. Rhett looked in between his parents with raised brows, commenting, “thought you didn’t like them, ma.”

Cecilia scoffed at the accusation, though it was obvious there was some bit of truth to it. “It’s not that I don’t like them, Rhett. I just find them….odd, like everyone else in this town. But I do respect and appreciate all they’ve done—like the fact they donate to the schools and the one shelter.”

“Maybe ‘cause no one else is selfless enough to do so,” Rhett muttered under his breath, glaring when Perry kicked him under the table in warning.

That was the last time the Addams family was brought up. Flash forward to 26-year-old Rhett and the thought of Persephone Addams vanished when Maria returned to his life. Something he hoped was permanent, but in reality was a complete and utter failure. Now his niece is staring up with him with puppy eyes, begging to go to an antique store opened by the Addams.

“It opened up while you was in Bozeman,” Amy told him, handing Rhett the utensils when his hand extended for them. “Right beside it is their book store—they’re basically connected and you can enter one and exit the other without going outside.”

“Wow,” Rhett said, putting the last dishes on the rack before washing his hands. “When you start gettin’ interested in antiques?”

Amy gave a small shrug, “Grandma was over at the farmers market and I wondered over there. Saw this cool clock in the window and wanted a closer look. It’s pretty cool—spooky and weird, but cool. And the lady who works there is cool too.”

“Really?” Rhett chuckled at his niece. “Do I know her?” He thought hard at the type of people who often took up the jobs at the Addams businesses. The only one Rhett knew of that the family ran themselves was the funeral home. Other than that, high schoolers took on summer jobs when they were desperate for money or teachers worked the weekends to make a little extra for the month.

“No, I don’t think so. I ain’t seen her round before until that day. She’s pretty and looks about your age—you’d definitely like her, uncle Rhett.” He gave his niece a knowing look, but she just smiled back. “Though, I don’t think the same would be said for her.”

Rhett made a sound of offense, playfully pushing her. “Are you dissing my game, little miss?” Amy giggled, pushing him back. “I’d be careful what you say, otherwise you can find someone else to drive you.” Immediately the girl pouted, which made Rhett chuckle, “I’m just teasin’. Go get your shoes, we’ll leave in five.”

With a squeal, Amy ran out of the kitchen to get her things leaving Rhett to finish cleaning up. Once he was done he gathered his shoes, keys, wallet, and hat before meeting Amy at the door. It was just past noon and the town was not too crowded by the townsfolk with many shopping at the farmers market and stores. Rhett found a spot to park his truck and the two hopped out with the man following behind Amy as she sped to the door of a two story brick building, painted black, that read in iron letters, ‘Les Antiquítes de la Famille Addams,’ beside it was a similar building, only it read, ‘La Biblioteca de Clásicos y Misterios de la Familia Addams.’

“Is that…French and Spanish?” Rhett asked his niece, who already had her hand on the iron door knob.

“Yup,” she emphasized the ‘p’ with a pop. “Now c’mon. I wanna see if they got anythin’ new in since last time I was here.” A jingle sounded above them, indicating to whoever was there that someone was entering the store. Rhett froze after gently closing the door, eyes scanning the scene before him.

It was unlike any antique store Rhett had been in. The color palette was like any business related to the Addams family with a vintage gothic aesthetic to its core. It definitely gave off an eerie feel, but it was beautiful. There was an iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling surrounded by melted floating candles. Clocks made of various metals and materials took up the space of an entire wall above the windows. Shelves stacked the many clear bookcases holding delicate china, porcelain dolls, and games that looked to be straight out of the 1920s. And like most antique stores it was laid out like a maze. Already Rhett had lost sight of his niece.

“Amy?” He gently shouted, careful not to scare anyone who could be lurking. As he took a few steps forward Rhett noticed the large opening to his right which should’ve been a wall but instead led to the conjoining book store. It had the same style and layout it could pass as an extension to the antique store—only it held strictly books.

“Back here!” Her voice called out in the distance. Rhett followed the sound, careful not to bump into anything and possibly destroy the items. The last thing he needed was to spend hundreds on irreplaceable artifacts.

When he found Amy, Rhett was confused to see her perched on a barstool in what appeared to be the back room. Doing a double take, checking to see where the worker was, Rhett peaked his head in, “Uh Ames, what’re you doing back here? This is the back room.”

“I know,” she told him, adjusting her position on the stool. “I’m waiting for Ms. Percy to show me her ring collection.” Something in Rhett’s stomach tightened at the name, “M-Ms. Percy?”

“Yes,” the sultry voice sounded behind him, causing Rhett to spin suddenly only to freeze as those onyx eyes stared back at him. Matching black hair framed her pale face ending at the top of her shoulders. The little bit of baby fat she had in high school had vanished, leaving sharp cheekbones with a grey hue to accentuate the contours of her face. Blood painted her lips, which were parted in a small smile showcasing pearly white teeth that people would spend hundreds on to have.

Rhett was speechless. Not only at the sight of Persephone Addams in front of him—still as captivating as ever—but the fact there was a baby girl perched on her hip. They both wore black, though Persephone’s was leather compared to the baby’s cotton onesie. While the baby had a black bow tied into her mop of black hair, Persephone donned a pillbox hat with lace falling down to cover her forehead and one of her eyes.

The baby, who looked to be not even a year old, was a spitting image of the woman holding her. There was no doubt she was Persephone’s daughter. His eyes betrayed him because immediately Rhett was pitching a glance to her hands, finding no diamond ring nor wedding band. There was only a snake ring looped around her left middle finger, with a black pearl on her right index. Rhett did notice the tattoos that coated her fingers and hands, some even crept up on the visible skin of her neck. Speaking of her neck, it was layered with various silver necklaces—including the letter ‘D’ on one.

“Hello, Rhett,” she snapped him from his daydream, no doubt pink coating his ears at the fact he was caught checking her out. Rhett scratched the back of his neck, becoming more flustered when her eyes flickered up and down—doing the same to him. “How nice to see you after all these years.”

“Persephone,” was all he could say, tipping his hat slightly in greeting. He wasn’t expecting to see the oldest Addams child after nearly a decade. The last time they were 16 and Persephone was covered in red slushie with streaking eyeliner. Now she was a grown woman—a mother as one could assume by the baby on her arm.

“You look good,” she complimented, not missing the way his cheeks flushed. “How long has it been? Ten years, give or take?” The man nodded, causing her to smirk. There was no doubt she knew of the effect she had on him. Although most people crossed the street to avoid Persephone, she always caught the way their eyes lingered. Before a morbid comment could scare them off, their attraction was as obvious as the sky was blue. “Once I left that hellhole that was—oh I shouldn’t call it that,” she sighed, “Hell I would actually enjoy, but you get what I’m saying, right?”

“Uhh—.”

“Did you find it, Ms. Percy?” Amy interrupted the moment, making Rhett turn to give her a slight glare. The girl shrugged with innocence, smiling when Persephone peered behind her uncle.

“Oh yes, darling, I did. Excuse me, Rhett.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, stepping back only to run into the edge of the doorway. Persephone smiled, squeezing past him to get in the room. It was then he noticed a velvet box in her free hand not holding her baby. Persephone placed the box on the desk before stepping around to sit in the vintage leather chair and perching the child in her lap causing her to babble and reach for anything on the table. The sight made Rhett smile.

“Now,” Persephone opened the velvet box to reveal a matching cushion holding an array of different rings. Some had gems, some were made of metals with lucrative designs. Almost all gave signs they were worth a lot of money. Persephone removed a golden one that had a large emerald in the middle surrounded by black diamonds. “This is one of my personal favorites. It belonged to one of the First Lady’s.”

“Woah,” Amy breathed, taking the ring as Persephone handed it to her. “Which First Lady?” Rhett moved closer, leaning against the wall beside the desk. He too was curious to know.

“Wednesday wouldn’t tell me,” she sighed, adjusting the bow on her daughter's head. “It was a gift from her on one of her many grave robbing adventures when we visited Virginia.” Rhett’s eyes widened at how nonchalant Persephone’s words were. His gaze snapped to Amy, who seemed unfazed as she admired the ring before handing it back.

Now he wondered just how many times Amy had interacted with Persephone since she returned. It surprised him the girl didn’t react like most would. And on that note, Rhett had a lot of questions he was curious to know.

“What about that one,” Amy pointed to the dazzling ruby ring on the bottom row. Persephone gave a fond smile, removing it from the cushion.

“This one is a good one. It belonged to Anne Boleyn—second wife of Henry the Eighth. She was executed for treason,” Persephone gave a sad look, though it was more in regards to not being alive to witness the event. “This is one of the rings she was wearing as she knelt on the chopping block.”

‘Jesus Christ,’ Rhett thought, but felt a smile creep up. He didn’t know what it was, but he found the whole situation amusing. There was something about Persephone that was endearing. It drew him in. And although he found some of the things she said odd, he wasn’t as put off by it as everyone else. In fact, he wanted to hear more.

One by one Persephone told the story of each ring—becoming slightly more morbid with each. Finally on the last ring, which was stolen by Puglsey and belonged to a French aristocrat that died in war, Persephone noticed how Amy’s lingered a bit longer on it than the others. “Here,” she said, pulling out a small velvet box from the drawer and placing the ring in it, closing it shut to hand to her, “it’s yours.”

A gasped escaped the girl, “I couldn’t possibly—.”

“I insist.” The box was pushed into Amy’s hand. Rhett stepped forward to protest, but Persephone waved a hand to stop him. “Consider it a gift. Amy has been so kind coming to visit me these past several weeks—even helping me organize or clean when the dust becomes too much. It’s the least I can do to thank her.”

Rhett glanced at Amy, who now had a light blush on her cheeks and was smiling at Persephone in gratitude. “What you say, Amy?”

“Thank you,” she said immediately, holding onto the box like it would disappear. “Thank you so much Ms. Percy. I will make sure nothing happens to it.”

Persephone smirked, “I’ll hold you to that.” The baby then made a sound, resulting in Persephone to adjust her so she was cradled to her chest. A hand gently stroked the baby girl’s back and the cries that were about to start soon went away. “Chut, ma petite épine. Nous serons bientôt à la maison.” ‘Hush, my little thorn. We will be home soon.’ A kiss was placed to her head before Persephone turned back to her guests. “My apologies, she gets a little fussy around this hour.”

“It’s not a problem,” Rhett replied with a soft smile. He nodded to the baby girl who’s eyes were fluttering as sleep started to overtake her. “What’s her name? If you don’t mind me askin’.”

“Desdemona.” So that’s what the ‘D’ on the necklace represented. “Mona for short.”

“That’s a pretty name,” he complimented. Never had he met someone with such a rare name. It was like Persephone. Unique and uncommon to hear in the modern day.

“It’s Greek for ill-fated and unfortunate, you may recognize it from the play ‘Othello’,” Persephone said casually, causing Rhett to be slightly taken aback. He recovered as she added, “Fitting for an Addams, don’t you think? After all, my name means ‘bringer of destruction.’”

Amy tilted her head, “I thought it was about the girl who was kidnapped by Hades.”

“That’s what they want you to think,” the woman winked, causing Amy to giggle. Rhett glanced between them, still blown away by how open his niece was at how strange Persephone was. It gave him pride and joy that she wasn’t like everyone else in Wabang. Judgemental to outcasts. She didn’t write the Addams off because they were different and instead found them intriguing.

“‘fore we leave, Ms. Percy, do you mind if I borrow another book?”

“Oh not at all,” Persephone clutched onto Mona as she stood from the chair. “Be my guest and choose whatever you please. Did you enjoy the one I recommended to you last week?”

Amy gave a short nod, hopping off the stool and giving the ring box to Rhett so he could hold it while she explored. “I preferred ‘Carmilla’ but I see why ‘Dracula’ is so talked about.” With that Amy was off to the opposite end of the building that held the book store, leaving Rhett and Persephone alone. With Mona of course, but she was sound asleep.

“She’s reading classics,” Rhett said with bewilderment. “Willingly.” He wondered if Perry and his parents were aware of Amy’s newfound interests. It was difficult to grasp for Rhett, though it sure as hell impressed him. And he damn well knew his mother would have a fit if she caught her granddaughter reading books like Dracula, Frankenstein, and all things spooky at that young an age.

A soft giggle brought him out of his shock. God even Persephone’s laugh sounded like a melody—like a siren singing her song. It made him feel warmth and the desire to hear it again. Fuck why was he acting like a teenager having a crush agian.

Wait, maybe it was a crush. Oh boy.

“Is it so hard to believe young girls would be interested in such?”

“Well, considerin’ me and everyone in high school hated the lessons on said literature…I’d say so, yes.” Something flashed in her eyes at the mention of high school, her smile turning down a bit, causing Rhett to back track at the memory of her drenched in red slushie, “I’m sorry—uh. I shouldn’t have brought up…”

“Please don’t tiptoe around just to spare me from feeling down and depressed, Rhett. I actually enjoy those emotions. Makes me remember I do have a heart.” She flashed a smile, adjusting her arms to make sure the baby was comfortable. There was a distant look in her eyes, as though she was thinking back to a certain time in her life. Rhett bit his lip, contemplating his next words.

“May I ask ya a question then?”

“Of course. I’m an open book. I’ll answer with honesty, Rhett.”

“What exactly happened and uh, where did ya go?”

“You’re referring to when I put a black widow on Maria’s face?” At Rhett’s nod, where he was trying not to react to the confirming truth, Persephone continued. “Well, as you can expect the sheriff was called and her family was furious. They rushed her to the hospital to receive the antidote to combat the venom,” she made a face, turning away, “so dramatic if I say so—they should know there has not been a fatal bite from a black widow on a human since the eighties. All it did was swell her face, make it red, give her abdominal cramps for a few days. It was a baby spider so it didn’t do too much damage.” Her tone implies it was not a big deal. Again, he should find it weird, but was actually impressed.

After a pause, she sighs and meets his eye, “At the station, they wanted to press charges as one does. But fortunately for me, the video of what Maria and her friends did was all over those social media platforms they were addicted to. You know, the ones where they strive for validation from others. Let’s just say Maria and her family were not on board with the idea of her being charged for animal cruelty and harrasment. Especially to the daughter of the family who is the reason Wabang has money. We promised to drop the charges in exchange for them to do the same.”

‘Fair enough.’ He expected that outcome in all honesty. It would not have been fair for Persephone to be punished while Maria got off. The city relied on the donations of the Addams family too much now that the sheriff wouldn’t dare lose that funding.

“Heard ya got expelled.”

“Oh no,” Rhett’s eyes widened in surprise, curious to know the explanation. “That didn’t happen at all—despite how much Maria and the school wanted it to. She would’ve had to be expelled as well. No, I willingly left Wabang High School and my parents sent me to the academy they went to in Vermont.”

“That’s a long way,” Rhett muttered, but she heard him nonetheless.

“Yes, but it was where I belonged. You probably would not understand. The school was…not for everyone. No offense,” she chuckled at the end causing Rhett to do the same. He wondered what kind of school it had to be that someone like him would not fit in.

“None taken.” For a moment the two just stared at each other, the conversation falling to a silence. Rhett, unsure of what to say, felt warmth spread on his cheeks at the eye contact causing him to look away just as Amy was speeding back into the room, “I got something!”

“Wonderful, darling. What sparked your interest this time?” Amy held up the book that looked withered and dated, reading ‘The Fall of the House of Usher and Other Tales’ by Edgar Allen Poe. Persephone smiled in approval, “A girl after my heart—if you can call it that, of course. Terrific choice, my little Raven.”

“Wasn’t the school you went to named after his poem?” Amy asked, making Rhett look at Persephone with raised brows.

“Why yes. ‘Nevermore’ to be exact. And as you walked the grounds it was as though you were living through the mind of Poe himself.” As she spoke, Rhett’s eyes drifted to the area below her ear that was exposed when Persephone pushed some of her hair back. There were several little black birds tattooed down her neck. How fitting.

“Well, we don’t want to hold ya up,” Rhett spoke when he noticed a customer had entered the shop. He and Persephone locked eyes. “I’ll make sure she gets that book back to ya once she’s done.” It was generous Persephone was letting his niece just take the book free of charge, but Rhett saw how dated it was and assumed it was no doubt an original copy. Actually almost all of the books in the store appeared to be original copies. Surely worth a lot of money.

The woman waved a hand, “There is no rush at all. She may take as long as she pleases.” Together they all walked to the door, Amy thanking Persephone again for the ring and book before rushing to the truck to wait for her uncle. Rhett stayed behind for a moment and when he faced Persephone he was nearly frozen by how beautiful she looked when the sunlight hit her. It threw him off, making him forget what he was about to say.

“Are you alright, Rhett?”

“Uh-yeah-yeah,” he coughed into his hand. “Sorry. I just uh—,” cursing in his head, Rhett tried to man up and say the words he’d been wanting to ask for the past twenty minutes. Usually he had little to no trouble picking up women like the occasional buckle bunny after the rodeo to fuck out the adrenaline he was feeling. He’d go on a date every now and then though it led to nothing. And he was okay with that.

But after Maria everything changed, he was scared to open his heart up again to someone.

Now, standing in front of Persephone Addams, his brain was screaming at him. There was always a small part of him that admired her from afar in high school. A tiny crush that was overshadowed by the one on Maria. Rhett regretted nothing more now than the fact he was so stupid to let his teenage hormonal self desire a girl who cared about no one but herself half the time. When there was someone like Persephone right there.

Finally he mentally kicked himself and manned up. The worst she could do was reject him. Not like he hadn’t experienced that before. Removing his hat, Rhett scrunched his nose and leaned forward, “Would you—would you maybe wanna grab some coffee some time? If you’re available, of course. But if-if you have someone I completely understand.”

He watched as his heart pounded as Peresephone’s lips curled up in a genuine smile. “There is no one.” He internally sighed in relief. She nodded down to Mona, “Her father is not in the picture. Hasn’t been since I was six months pregnant.” That made Rhett frown, upset at the fact she was left alone in her pregnancy and birth of her daughter.

“I’m sorry to hear.”

“Don’t be. He cheated and is now in prison.”

Rhett made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth. “Wow. That’s um…unfortunate.”

Persephone glanced over her shoulder to make sure the customer was nowhere in sight before leaning closer. “Wednesday is one to hold a grudge. I told her she had free reign to ruin his life however she pleased.” She scrunched her nose adding, “Probably should have laid down some ground rules. Having attempted murder on your record is not an accomplishment to some…compared to our family.”

‘Well shit,’ Rhett thought. He could only imagine what the teenager did. And judging by the obvious hint from Persephone, it involved framing someone for attempted murder. What should have had Rhett running away, instead it had him think, ‘Note to self: do not fuck this up.’

“I’ll be sure to not get on her bad side then,” Rhett said, noticing a flash of surprise to take over her expression. It was as though she couldn't believe he still wanted to pursue her. After all, she did just admit her 15-year-old sister put her ex in jail for simply cheating on her. Rhett smirked, “Was that some kind of a warning, I take it?”

Now she mirrored his smirk, liking what he said, “More like a test. You passed.” Rhett placed his hat back on his head, tipping it slightly, “Glad to hear.”

The sound of a bell ringing drew both of their attention, finding the customer: an older lady holding a vintage tea set. Persephone offered a friendly smile, “I will be with you just a moment, ma’am.” She then faces Rhett, “I don’t open the shop until eleven tomorrow and I close at around five. I can meet you either in the morning or afternoon for coffee if you’d like.”

“Tomorrow mornin’ is perfect,” he told her, trying to control the joy he was feeling. “How nine-thirty sound?”

“I’ll be there,” she winked, reaching around him to grab a business card. It had her name, home & cell number, email, and names of the shops on it. “Forgive me if I do not answer you right away if you try to reach me. I am not a fan of technology, but for the sake of family businesses I do my best. I’ll keep my cell phone close by for you.”

Rhett ran his eyes over the information, laughing softly at her and ignoring the butterflies he felt by her last statement. He puts the card in his pocket, “It’s no problem, Persephone. Thank you though.”

“Please, call me Percy.”

Rhett smiles, “Well, Percy, I’ll leave ya to it then.” He tips his hat, “see ya tomorrow.”

“Adiós, vaquero.” ‘Goodbye, cowboy.’ As Rhett exited the store, the bells echoing behind him, he stopped to peer through the window to get one last glance at Persephone Addams. Her back was turned to him, walking to the register to greet the customer where she gently places Mona in a black vintage bassinet. Rhett knew it probably looked weird to passerbyers that he was standing in front of the store, with a dazed look in his eyes as he watched Persephone ring up the lady and carefully wrap the tea set in packaging.

Her lips were moving, but Rhett couldn’t hear what she was saying, only that he was captivated by how she moved and the passion in her eyes as she was no doubt explaining the history of the tea set. Quickly shaking his head, biting back the grin trying to escape, Rhett hurried to his truck before he was caught. When he got in, he was faced with a knowing look from his niece.

“Did ya ask her out?”

“Maybe,” he quipped, buckling his seatbelt before starting the engine. Amy rolled her eyes, but behind them he could tell she looked happy he did in fact make a move.

“Please don’t mess it up, uncle Rhett. I really like Ms. Percy. She’s so nice and lets me ask questions people say I shouldn’t ask. She doesn’t care what people think of her and teaches me things no one else in school or at home does. So please,” her tone becomes serious, causing Rhett to turn his head when they get to a stop sign so she has his full attention. “Don’t play her heart. Or I’ll take her side for whatever she ends up doing as payback.”

‘You don’t gotta tell me twice, Ames.’ There was no way in hell he was going to mess up his chance with Persephone. Not when she actually was open to giving him one after she probably blamed him for what Maria did.

He ends up saying with determination, “I won’t mess it up with her, Amy. I promise.”

Three ½ Years Later

It was a gloomy, rainy day in Jericho, Vermont. Grey colored the sky, ravens chipped in the distance. A truly miserable day.

Perfect for Nevermore Academy’s graduation ceremony.

“Mi amor, do you know where Mona misplaced her teddy?” Persephone was rummaging through her bag that was placed on the seat of the car while she stood outside. Rhett was holding the umbrella above to protect her from the rain in one hand with four-year-old Mona perched on his hip with the other.

“Not sure, darling. Last I saw it was in the hotel room,” When she bent over to get a closer look inside the car, Rhett couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to her ass. Which looked amazing in the tight black dress she was wearing. “Careful, Percy,” he warned when she leaned forward, noticing her baby bump press against the seat.

She was roughly five months into the pregnancy. Just shortly after celebrating their three year anniversary, in which Rhett had got down on one knee and presented a black diamond ring with the promise to love Persephone even after death, she endured a vision showing her holding a baby boy beside him. “I think I might be carrying your son, Rhett,” she gasped as she awoke in his arms. Whenever the visions came Rhett stayed beside her until they ended. The second the words left her mouth he was pulling her to the nearest pharmacy to get a test. The man just about cried when the two little lines appeared on the strip.

Cursing, she moved away and smoothed out the fabric of her dress. Clasping the buckle of her purse, Persephone pulled on her coat and threw the bag over her arm before shutting the door. “Thankfully I have her other toy to keep her distracted.” Lurch locked the car, following behind the couple as they approached the grounds of the school where the ceremony was held.

The rest of the family had already gone in to meet with Wednesday and the ceremony was planned for when night took over. So when they entered the courtyard where everyone had gathered, Mona was already squirming in Rhett’s arms and reaching for her aunt who she spotted first. The rain had settled to a light drizzle, so Rhett set her down when they were only a few feet away, letting the child run and wrap her tiny arms around Wednesday’s legs.

The teen didn’t look happy—then again she never did, but behind that cold, stoic, stare, there was a glimpse of affection. “Desdemona, you foul creature, you should know better than to embrace me with physical contact.” Her words were returned with giggles from the girl. Nonetheless, Wednesday patted the top of her head and gently pushed her back to her parents. The teen clasped her hands, looking up to her sister and soon to be brother-in-law, “I was not expecting you to come in your condition, sister.”

“I would not have missed this for the world,” Persephone grinned, holding Mona to her side as she nuzzled into her coat. “It’s not everyday my little sister graduates school—though I must say, Wednesday, it truly is a surprise.” To anyone else the words would have stung, but for Wednesday Addams, it was a compliment.

“Glad to know my reputation still holds,” the teens eyes flicker to the ring on her sister’s left hand before moving the gaze to Rhett. After years of dating Persephone, he had become a pro at handling Wednesday deadpan stare. It no longer fazed him unlike his family, who still had trouble being in the same room as her. Amy was the only one who didn’t feel creeped out by it. “And that you were true to your words.”

Persephone turned to Rhett, curiosity in her eyes. “What does she mean, Rhett?” There was a light blush to his cheeks as he replied, “When I asked you parents for your hand, I also asked your siblings.” Immediately her face softened, “oh, mi amor,” she reached up to kiss the corner of her lips before actually kissing him, aware of Wednesday’s glare.

“My one request is that you two refrain from acting like mother and father tonight for the sake of my sanity.” Persephone chuckled, pulling away from Rhett who was also smiling as he fixed his black Stetson. She made a gesture of crossing her heart, which only made her sister roll her eyes and stalk away to find Bianca and Enid.

“I’m curious to know how that conversation went?” Persephone teased, reaching up to adjust Rhett’s bolo tie. Mona sped over to her uncle and grandparents who were speaking with Enid’s family, leaving the couple alone in the corner of the courtyard.

“Surprisingly, not bad. Of course she threatened to do worse than frame me for murder if I fucked up. I believe her exact words were, ‘There’s already a plot in the family graveyard with your name on it. I’ll look forward to filling it.’” Persephone shakes her head, but there’s a smirk on her lips. Rhett leaned down to kiss her softly, “But that’s not gonna be filled till I’m old and gray and you can barely stand to look at me.”

Persephone pulled him close, arms going around his neck while he placed his hands on her waist. She could feel his thumbs rub the sides of her bump. “I’ll still always have my eyes on you, Rhett Abbott. You could never repulse me. Even when you start looking like a corpse.”

He threw his head back in laughter, Persephone giggling with him. Calming down, he tightened his arms around her, careful of the bump where their son was growing and stared into the onyx eyes he adored. “I love you, Persephone Addams. Thank you for giving me the honor of having your heart and being a part of this family.”

She kissed him with all her might, pouring her love and soul so he could feel it for all of eternity. “Te amo mucho más, mi querido vaquero.” ‘I love you so much more, my darling cowboy.’

#rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x oc #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #outer range #outer range imagine #lewis pullman #outer range fic #the Addams family #crossover #fluff #angst #original character

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