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jojikawa · 4 months

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“Excuse me, Ma’am. Is this your son?”

You try bringing Sukuna with you for a day of daily errands but he only causes mischief because he craves your attention. Contains descriptions of gore.

tw// fluff, adult language, MC is Lilith! (a powerful demoness), lewd/suggestive themes.

masterlist

Him 🩷

Sukuna’s eyes fluttered open. His eyes were burned by the rays of sun that came in, which sorta ruined the moment, but that was fine because he was in your bed. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Yuuji was still asleep, locked away in the back of his mind so he was able to get to the body first. When he looked down, he expected you to still be in his arms, pressed against his chest as his little spoon but you were…gone. Instead, he held a pillow that was vaguely your height and width. “What?” He muttered before pushing the poor body pillow to the side. What confused him even more was that he didn’t sense your energy at all…until he entered your living space. That’s where he found a demonic-looking bottomless pit in the middle of the room. It emitted a red aura; if he listened closely, he could hear the screams and cries of sinners.

He recognized this portal. Seeing it unlocked a memory from the past. You’d only ever use it when you wanted to speak to Lucifer about something. Man, he really hated that guy. If the two of you weren’t friends, he’d probably kill him too. Sukuna didn’t like the idea of you being so cozy with another guy. Even if it were Lucifer himself. (The two of you weren’t “cozy” at all. More like siblings in reality.)

Sukuna backed away once the living room began to shake. Soon, a huge monster with no face and only arms climbed out of the hole. In one of its arms was you in its palm. It sat you on your couch before retreating back into the hole where it closed permanently.

You adjusted your hair before noticing your lover silently watching you. “Oh, good morning.” You whispered, now only inches away from him, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Where’d you go?” He didn’t return your affection but it wasn’t something you took to heart. “There was a meeting.” You answered.

“So important you needed to abandon me for it?”

Your smile only intensified at his pouty expression. “I didn’t want to wake you. But don’t want to bore you with the details. I’m glad you’re awake now.” You wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his chest. Your behavior made him melt. He already forgot he was upset with you!

“I have a book club today so I’ll be gone. You should give Yuuji back his body now.” You looked up at him and saw that he was becoming gradually annoyed. Were you already trying to get rid of him? The nerve.

“I’m comin’ with you.”

“It’s girls only.”

“I don’t care.”

He was such a handful.

The two of you arrived at your neighbor's house. All the girls were already there and you were the last to arrive. Sukuna couldn’t understand why you indulged the most in human pleasures. Book club? Really?

“I’m sorry I’m late!” You announced your arrival to the group of women seated around a dining table. They all have a book or two, ready to share. Their eyes seemed to be more focused on the man next to you. Sukuna.

“Um, (y/n), you didn’t tell us you were bringing your…” The brown-haired woman grimaced at the sight of the man beside you. He looked awfully scary.

You waved it off. “This is just my husband. I felt bad leaving him at home.” flashing her a smile, you made your way over to the table. Another chair was pulled up next to where you’d sit.

“Husband?” Another woman repeated. You heard their whispers. “But he looks like he’s wearing a high school uniform.”

Your heart dropped. Sukuna never makes an effort to change his attire before coming to hang out with you. The last thing you wanted was for you, an elementary school teacher, to have rumors of you dating a high school student.

“What’s wrong with what I got on, huh!?”

The woman visible began to tremble as your husband was intimidating the woman. He shoved his face into hers, using his height to remind her how small she was to him. He was acting like a high schooler!

“N-Nothing! I-I…” The middle-aged woman failed to form words and was almost on the verge of crying before you stepped in. With a fake smile on your face, you pushed Sukuna to the side. “Don’t mind him. He just has an affinity for…the old days. I get these clothes made for him as gifts.” You then elbowed Sukuna, causing him to cry out and curse to himself under his breath.

It helped a little, but the woman made sure to avoid Sukuna after that.

Unfortunately, for your husband, he needed to sit through your session of woman gossip about romance novels, Tumblr, Goodreads, and all the other bullshit he didn’t care about. He sat next to you with his head in his palm, looking at the things you’d have with you from time to time, zoning in and out of the conversation and not really contributing. He was barely even paying attention to the things that you were saying.

Until you said something rather interesting.

“Oh, there’s this one book I’ve picked up recently that I wanted to share with you all!”

His ears perked up there.

You put a book on the table. The cover was of a woman with traditional clothing and behind her was an oversized demonic man. It was a…romance novel. But it was probably the dirtiest, smuttiest, and most degenerate thing he’s ever laid eyes on. Even the cover was like softcore porn…

He immediately pieced together that it was some form of a modern adaptation of you and him.

“Oh my gosh, (y/n)! I didn’t think you’d read something so…so…exciting!”

You laughed. “I know! It’s by this young author and I can’t believe she nailed the ‘Beauty and the Beast’ concept so well.” Your face began to heat up at the implied romantic events that would transpire in the story.

He wanted so badly to make fun of you but he didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends…

Actually, that's exactly what he wanted to do.

“Do you really read this slop about men who aren’t gonna fuck you? Men who aren’t even real.”

You didn’t react at first but your friends did. They gasped and jeered at Sukuna’s explicit language and insults.

“You wretch! What would a caveman like you know about literature? This is why we've restricted men like you from joining our club.” The Hostess bellowed as she stood, slamming her hands on the table. Who did she think she was?!

“Excuse me, but I am perfectly capable of yelling at my own husband, thank you.” You stood as well. Ryo was in the wrong but you’d never tolerate another life form raising their voice at him. “Perhaps, he’s right. Last time I checked, I’m the only one here who’s married.” You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at the woman. She had recently confided in the group about her divorce so you bringing it up as a jab was intolerable!!

The two of you were promptly kicked out and he was never allowed to be a guest ever again. Now, you were at the nearby supermarket, getting some food so that you could at least make something to feed the vessel he was in.

“I can’t believe you embarrassed me like that. Do you understand the amount of explaining I’m gonna have to do next time I go?” Like a disappointed mom, you paid no mind to the man behind you, occupying himself with the shopping cart. His cheek was somewhat red from that slap you just gave him as well.

“I was makin’ it interesting. That was probably the most eventful thing they’ve had all week.” His neutral expression turned into a smirk. “But to be honest, I think you got yourself kicked out.”

You had been comparing the prices of two different boxes of the same pasta when he said that. You seized your actions before whipping your head around to look at him. “What!? No, I didn’t.”

“You did. Yelling at that bitch was pretty hot!” Sukuna snickered to himself but he made sure he was quiet so that he wouldn’t earn another slap across the face. “It wasn’t hot and it was your fault for saying anything at all.” You rolled your eyes and placed the preferred box into the cart. Without a word, you moved down the aisle and Sukuna followed. You saw that a lot of the boxes were premade dust for homemade baked goods.

“Kuna!” You called him and smiled. You showed off the box of extra triple chocolate brownie mix. It was hardly noticeable but his cheeks turned pink from the nickname. Kuna, huh?

“Why do you assume I’ll eat that shit?”

“You liked hot cocoa. I think you might be a chocolate lover.” You hurried over to put it in the cart. You remembered that you needed sugar as well.

Hanging out with Gods must be boring. That’s how Sukuna felt. You’ve been alive for so long that you could probably rule the world but instead, you were at the supermarket. He watched you struggle to reach things on the high shelf. You couldn’t exactly use your powers or everyone would notice. It was really cute and he almost forgot that he was supposed to be helping you.

“Why is it on the very top shelf? How is anyone supposed to get this?” You mumbled to yourself, trying to figure out a non-embarrassing way of reaching the product…that was until you felt Ryo’s chest press against your back. He reached above you and effortlessly picked the container of sugar off of the shelf.

You couldn’t help but blush. You didn’t even know if he knew what he was really doing. But he did. Seeing you flustered at his actions was probably the most pure form of beauty he’s ever witnessed. Even if he didn’t know your origin, he could already tell that God handcrafted you to be gorgeous. Whether it be you’re angry, sad, or happy.

“Thanks.” You whispered, a smile gracing your lips.

“Told ya your ass was small.”

And your smile fell. “Ugh, I can’t stand you.” You rolled your eyes before bringing your attention to the nearby boxes of cereal. “Hmph.” Sukuna’s cocky expression disappeared once you turned your back again. He was so bored in here. Couldn’t you shop any faster?

You could easily tell that your husband was getting restless. The metallic sound of the cart moving back and forth, the shifting of his weight causing the fabric of Yuuji’s jacket to brush against itself, and the huffing and puffing of the very man you had been talking to occurring ever so often.

“Why not go and pick out things you might want to try?” You chimed, silently putting more things you were interested in buying inside of the cart. Sukuna narrowed his eyes. “You just wanna get rid of me.” His sudden deep voice would have startled anyone, but not you. You shrugged. “Things would go faster if you were more involved in the process.”

Without another word, he left the cart behind to (maybe) listen to your advice. (he didn’t.) He thought that getting under your skin was much more entertaining because he sort of got a kick out of pushing your buttons. Nothing got him going more than a sexy woman who could kill him but hasn’t yet. So, he ended up causing mischief the only way he could.

Nearly 10 minutes went by. You lost sign of Sukuna after moving through different aisles and finding a handful of things you wanted. Now, you were at the bakery, talking to the woman at the counter about some freshly baked desserts you wanted to take home. That’s when an officer approached you.

“Excuse me, Ma’am, but is this your son…?”

You broke away from your previous conversation to see a huge man in a black uniform. He was holding Sukuna by his clothes.

“We caught him shoplifting.”

Sukuna’s signature grin was plastered on his face. This man was asking if he was your son??? The two of you looked nothing alike. That could only mean that he must have told this man that you were his…mom.

“Th-That’s my…” You were in the middle of taking a paper bag full of donuts from the counter woman. You averted your eyes from Sukuna’s face to avoid getting angry. “...my friend’s son.”

“What?!” He blurted out. The Officer released him. “Well, Ma’am, we will be letting him off with a warning but if it occurs again, we will not take back any stolen items, but instead, you will pay for them.”

You bowed. “Understandable. I’m sorry for his actions. Unfortunately, he was not disciplined enough as a child.” You gave an awkward laugh. The Officer left and you finished getting your goods from the baker. The cart was pretty much full now.

“What’s gotten into you?!” Your eyebrows furrowed at the man who couldn’t help but smile. Why was he picking on you today? Why was he being such a brat??? Before all of this, when the two of you were first together, he was so more mature than how he was acting now.

‘Because you’re paying attention to everything else and not to me.’ is what he wanted to say but, oh, he’d sound so needy and weak. Truth be told, he was somewhat jealous. Not only did you have your own friends and hobbies, but you were so much more used to modern life while he understood next to nothing. Plus, he didn’t have his own body and was only a fraction as powerful as he used to be. This was the perfect recipe for a boring life.

You never got an answer from Sukuna but his eyes told you everything. Being around Adam taught you how to read men well. You ordered him to get you milk and eggs from the dairy section.

Waiting patiently near the check out, you noticed a particular man in the distance watching you. He looked young… perhaps his mid to late 20s? The stranger was somewhat attractive, sporting short blonde hair and looked similar to those singing boy band groups that girls loved to fawn over.

Once you caught him staring, you flashed a smile, helping things seem less awkward. The man smiled back before he began…making his way towards you. He reached your cart, making sure to stay out of the way of other passing customers.

“Oh, I’m not in line.” You pulled your cart to the side once you saw he had a handheld basket full of stuff.

“No worries, I wasn’t done anyways.” Chuckling, he locked eyes with you. They were full of wonder and joy. “I actually came here to speak to you.”

Your smile faded. Oh no…

“To me?” You repeated, tilting your head. It added to your ‘cute’ factor.

“Yes,” he replied. “I wanted to know if you were a m-model of some kind. I’d love to get a picture. You are the definition of beauty.” His cheeks turned a rosy pink at the sight of you. He fumbled with his jacket, trying to look for his phone.

You shook your head. “Oh, no, I don’t do either but I’m flattered that you think I do!” Suddenly, you had become aware of the clothes you chose to wear today and how you did your hair. “Although, I don’t mind if you’d take a photo.” You placed your hand on your cheek.

“Forgive me, then. I was wrong to make an assumption.” The man flashed a charming smile. “I was just put off by finding someone like you in such a normal place like this.”

You couldn’t help but smile too. You rarely have a lot of good interactions with men. Especially these days with men hating women have become so normalized.

“I appreciate your compliments so much, but I’m married.” You laughed, prompting the man to give you a surprised look. “Oh, no! I wasn’t trying to come onto you or anything. I-It’s just that I’m a photographer, you see. I take photos of pretty people for my social media.”

“That’s so interesting.” You told him. He moved closer to you, attempting to show you one of his social media pages. Before you could take his phone, you noticed that he stopped moving.

When you looked at him, a splatter of blood coated your face and clothes. The body of the man imploded into a dozen cubes, falling into your cart and all over the floor. Women and children screamed at the sight before running for their lives.

You hadn’t even begun to process what just happened. Your eyes instinctively closed to protect themselves from the blood. Upon blinking, you saw that the man you had just been speaking to no longer had a head. His phone dropped to the ground before it reached your hands and his body soon followed with a shallow thud.

You didn’t even pretend to act afraid for the sake of not looking suspicious. Your eyes then found Sukuna. He was the only other person that didn’t run besides you.

Oh, Ryo. Still as jealous as always.

His face looked mildly disappointed at the men who had fallen next to you. He didn’t even try to pretend like he had nothing to do with this. You frowned, realizing that you’d have to clean this up for the sake of Yuuji.

“You can’t kill every man who talks to me, ya know.” You sighed as a small cloth appeared in your hands. You used it to wipe the blood off of your face.

“You let him talk for too long.” Sukuna’s words were laced with venom. He despised people who were in your personal space…men most of all. Those without manners are unfit to live, in his eyes.

The police would be arriving soon. Without a word, you dialed a number that no one else could reach.

“Yeah, hey. It’s me. Do you think you could pull a few strings for me to help a situation I’ve gotten myself into…? Sorry. I hate to be a bother…Well, the guy I’m seeing sort of…mortals got involved.”

This was the first and last time you were taking Sukuna ANYWHERE in public again.

#ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen headcanons #Sukuna x demon reader #female reader #reader insert #fluff

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fandoms-writings · 10 months

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omg remi i keep meaning to send in asks for your event but i always forget i’m so sorryxbzbdbz

request time!! what about "Come get me? I miss you." with any of your bucky’s, with a kisses extra please? <3

Ahhhh this one was fun to write <3 i had to stop before it got too long lmao

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: Bucky gets handsy when he's drunk lol

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, drunk!bucky, implied smut at the end, due to the content of my blog this is 18+ only

A/N: this is unbeta'd all mistakes are my own

Masterpost || Bucky Masterlist || Event Post

It wasn't that Bucky was a lightweight. No, it was that asgardian liquor had a certain kick to it that sent Bucky into a drunken handsy mess. You sat in his lap, his hand roaming and squeezing the muscles of your legs and your hips and he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

As he laughed into your skin at something Steve said, you couldn't help but think back to the first time you'd seen him drunk, which was the first time he'd felt comfortable letting loose like that in front of the rest of the team.

You'd grown tired of the party earlier than he did, retiring to your shared room for the rest of the evening and taking the opportunity to have a self care night. You took a bath, washed your face, did a mask, your nails - the whole nine yards.

Finally in pajamas, hair dry and skin feeling the softest it's been in awhile, you crawled into bed, your comfort show on the TV as you got comfy. Then your show paused and FRIDAYs voice called your name through your speakers.

A sigh left your lips as you shut your eyes, "Yes?"

"Mr. Barnes is requesting to speak with you," She announced and your brows scrunched. He could just come back to the room if he wanted to talk to you so bad. But part of you had your anxiety peaking - maybe something happened downstairs and it was an emergency.

"Put him through."

"Yes ma'am." It was only a moment of quiet where you were questioning everything before Bucky's voice filled the room.

"Babyyyy," he sang out, "Baaabyyyy."

You shook your eyes as you got ready to stand, "Yes, my love?" You called back and you heard his gasp as if he didn't know you'd answer. He must've been calling for you before FRIDAY connected him.

"You answered!" You could hear the smile in his words as he told you about how he didn't think you'd still be awake.

"I'm awake, but not for much longer," You informed him, "What's going on?"

He was quiet for a moment before he finally replied, "Can you come get me?" His voice was small and you couldn't hear a smile anymore, "I miss you."

There was a tugging in your heart as you threw the covers off of your legs and stood from the bed.

"Where are you, Bucky?"

"At the compound," You rolled your eyes, but decided not to tell him you were also already there. "In the activity room. Everyone already went to bed."

"And they left you there by yourself?" You slipped on your fuzzy socks, the damn floors Stark had chosen were always freezing the bottoms of your feet, and he confirmed his statement. "Stay there okay? I'll be there soon."

You disconnected the call from FRIDAY before telling her to keep an eye on Bucky while you made your way down, taking the elevator ride to mentally prepare yourself for whatever state the team had left Bucky in.

Padding down the hallway, you slowed at the corner leading to the activity room when you heard voices. When you peaked around the corner, you saw a very out of it Bucky leaning against a sober looking Steve.

"I know where she is, I can take you to her," Steve tried to convince Bucky but your boyfriend shook his head.

"Nuh uh, she tol' me she was comin 'ere," His brows were scrunched when he looked at Steve, "I ain't movin'." Steve chuckled and shook his head and you couldn't help but do the same.

"Alright, pal, we'll wait together yeah?" You couldn't stop the small smile that grew on your lips as you watched Bucky's head lean against his friend's shoulder. You gave him another moment to relax with Steve before you rounded the corner, sneaking your way over to the couch.

Steve spotted your first, catching you in the corner of his eye, and he smiled and waved. You returned the gesture before seeing Bucky with his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful you didn't want to wake him, but you also didn't want Steve to have to be stuck here all night, not that he'd complain - he'd do anything for Bucky even if it meant sitting still on the couch all night.

"Hey, punk," Steve softly said, getting a hum out of Bucky, "Open your eyes, look who's here."

Bucky's eyes lazily opened, sluggishly scanning the room before landing on you, snapping the rest of the way open as a giant smile broke out on his face.

"Baby!" He called for you, holding his hands out to touch you and you closed the distance, stepping into his hands as they wound around your back and pulled you forward. He buried his face in your stomach, taking a deep inhale as your fingers threaded through his hair. "You came."

"Of course I did," You muttered into his hair before placing a kiss there and looking at Steve, thanking him for watching over you boyfriend.

"You got this?" he whispered to you and you nodded.

"Yeah, if I need help, I'll call you." He nodded and stood, patting you on the shoulder before walking down the hall.

"You wanna go back to our room, hm?" You asked, pulling Bucky's face away from your stomach so you could see him.

He nodded and you tried to help him stand, though it was hard with his wandering hands. Eventually, you got him to his feet, and half carried him to the elevator. With him propped against the wall, you leaned over, pressing the button for your floor.

His arms wrapped around you from behind, his metal hand pushing its way up and under your shirt, grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing it in his grip. You let him lean into you, his other hand coming around your front, drawing lazy patterns over your stomach before it started to tease at your waistband, his pink pushing the edge of it trying to get past it.

You grabbed his hand, giggling at the sound of disappointment that rumbled behind you. "Bucky, you know there are cameras all over this place, including the elevators right?"

"So? I wan touch you," his hand on your breast squeezed as his lips placed lazy kisses on your neck and you had to keep yourself together at the sensation the cool of his metal against your nipple did to you.

"I know you do," You said, looking over your shoulder at him, "But do you want to give Stark a free show?" His nose pressed into your neck as he grumbled.

"No. . ." He muttered after a while earning another giggle from you as his hand still hadn't left your chest.

"Then, if you can stay awake once we get back to our room, you can touch me all you want." You promised, nudging his nose with yours and smiling as his eyes lit up with determination.

"I can," He said, swaying as he stepped back from you, "I can stay 'wake."

The elevator stopped on your floor and you helped him get to the bedroom, helping him sit on the bed and take his shoes off. He laid back on top of the comforter with a sigh before looking at you and giving you grabby hands.

You placed one of your hands in his, leaning over him to place a kiss on his lips, "I'll be right back, okay?" He pouted at you but nodded, leaning up to mold his mouth with yours once more before letting your hand go and watching you walk off to the restroom.

When you came back, he was lightly snoring, laying the wrong way on the bed. You tried waking him to move him, but he was out cold, so you grabbed the pillows from the head of the bed and moved them to where he was. You pulled out an extra blanket, since he was laying on top of the other ones, and once you had him turned to his side just in case, you snuggled in behind him, throwing the blanket over the both of you.

His laugh snapped you out of the memory and you looked down at him. He glanced up at you, catching your gaze and his smile softened.

"What is it?" He asked, squeezing your leg.

"Nothing," You grinned, leaning down to his ear, "Do you wanna come upstairs with me before you get too tired?" You asked, taking the lobe of his ear between your teeth for a split second before pulling away.

When you looked at him again, the pupils in his eyes had blown wide and he had a single-minded gaze on you.

"Get up," he ordered, "Let's go." You stood giggling, bidding everyone a good night before Bucky all but chased you to the elevator, almost giving Stark a show on the way up to your room where, this time, Bucky didn't know the meaning of the word tired. All. Night. Long.

#remisneonparty #bucky x reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanficiton #avenger!bucky #avenger!reader #drunk!bucky #avenger!bucky x avenger!reader #bucky fluff #fandoms writings

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juyeonszn · 10 months

Text

SACRIFICE (EAT ME UP)

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 9.17k

GENRES horror ﹒ smut ﹒ angst ﹒ fluff ig?

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, mentions of murder, descriptions of crime scenes, mentions of blood, mentions of knifes, graphic description of stab wounds, mentions of potential mental illness, THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS THAT CONSTITUTE WARNINGS BUT ?!1?1 I DONT WANT TO SPOIL !1!2!2, Lots of Kissing, mutual masturbation (f! receiving fingering & m! receiving hand job), pillow talk ig, big dick hyunjae 😈, um unprotected sex lol be safe u silly geese, car sex, cowgirl position yeehaw, creampie, this entire fic is just a whole fucking roller coaster i stg it’s gonna haunt me forever

SUMMARY with a serial killer running rampant on campus, everyone around you seems to be dropping like flies. but, hey, at least you have hyunjae to protect you.

MORE omg.. my first written work for tbz 🙀 extra super fun fact; this was originally an idea i had for hyunjin from skz on my other blog that i actually started writing the week before halloween last year (the reason it’s a horror fic), but i never finished and sort of felt like there was no point in continuing it after a while— that is until i stumbled upon the draft a few weeks ago and decided to revamp, edit, and complete it 😋 i kept going back and rereading and then blanking when i wanted to add to it until last night when i said fuck it and drank two cups of coffee to power through the end 🙌 anyways.. here u all go, my baby that i never thought would see the light of day and my first time writing a genuine horror piece <3 also special shoutout to rina my soulmate @tsukidou for beta reading 🫶

PLAYLIST sacrifice (eat me up) — enhypen, awake — the boyz, roar — the boyz, fever — enhypen, fate — enhypen, taste — stray kids, wake up — ateez, white noise — pvris, heaven — pvris

“Alright, that’s all for today’s lecture. If this was your last of the day, make sure to find someone to go home with and remember the curfew rules!” Your English professor says, concluding the class.

The students around you rush to pack up their things and get off of campus as soon as possible. You don’t seem to be in a hurry, though, taking your time to put away your notebook and laptop. Your roommates were still in their music production class, so you didn’t want to go home alone, deciding to wait until they were done.

“Y/N, don’t you wanna get home?” Professor Park asks, her voice echoing in the now empty lecture hall. She throws the strap of her bag over her shoulder and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“I do, but I have to wait for my roommates. They’re in a class right now and I’d rather not go by myself.” You let out an awkward laugh. She nods at your reasoning, giving you a small smile for comfort.

“Okay, you be careful! I’ll see you on Thursday.”

You raise your hand in a silent salutation, watching as she exits the room, leaving you completely alone. Though a public space, in a public building, the fact that there’s no one else nearby leaves you utterly unsettled. Your stomach churns with a twinge of fear and you start to feel a bit claustrophobic despite being in such a spacious area, so you choose this point to hurriedly collect your belongings and get the hell out of there.

The past couple of months have been in this weird state of limbo. You don’t recall exactly when the killings started, but once the police noticed a pattern, everyone knew sooner or later that the presence of a serial murderer would be announced on the local news. Your town enforced a citywide curfew to protect its citizens, but mostly the students at your university.

Every single one of the killer’s victims were university students. You were friends with a bunch of guys and while it was nice having big strong men surrounding you, you knew that could hardly do anything to quell the lingering anxiety you’ve felt ever since the spree began.

The police seemed to be having trouble coming up with any possible suspects, or even gaining any leads, thanks to the killer’s unusual victimology and the cool down time between murders always varying. If the people in charge of protecting you couldn’t do that, how were you supposed to feel safe?

In an attempt to get to the building where Jacob, Kevin, and Eric were as fast as you could, you speed walk out of the lecture hall, accidentally bumping into someone. You bow at a nearly ninety-degree angle and hurl out apology after apology following the collision, not trying to make any enemies in this day and time.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” The stranger spits, waiting for you to glance up at him to give you a nasty glare. He looks like the kind of guy who thought he was all that, despite peaking in high school. You feel your bottom lip quiver and you avoid eye contact.

“I—”

“Woah, dude, chill the fuck out. It was an accident, I’m sure she didn’t— wait, N/N, is that you? Hey it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

There’s a familiar voice in your ears and a hand under your chin, forcing you to stand upright. Whoever you bumped into walks away with a scoff. You meet eyes with Lee Hyunjae, one of your dearest friends. He recognizes that hint of panic in your features and he frowns.

“I’m so sorry, Jae, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going—” Your breath is caught in your throat and you fumble over your words.

“Hey, hey, slow down,” he keeps a hold on your biceps. “It’s alright, I promise. He’s gone. What’s wrong?”

You shut your eyes tightly, feeling pathetic for causing such a scene for no apparent reason. Hyunjae guides you through your breathing, his focus trained on you the whole time. He always made you feel so comfortable.

“With everything that’s been going on, I’m just so paranoid and afraid of being alone. I wanted to go to the music department building and wait for the boys.” You finally explain once you’ve calmed down and the rise of your chest is even.

“How about this? I’ll take you home so you don’t have to stay on campus any longer.” He suggests, bringing up a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. You nod slowly, gathering your bearings.

Hyunjae leads you to his car that’s parked in the lot closest to the building you were just in and the two of you make your way to your apartment. You’d been friends with your roommates for years now, meeting in eighth grade. You had just moved schools and happened to be put into a class with Eric Sohn, the most rambunctious boy you’d ever met. He thought you seemed really sweet upon first impression and decided to befriend you, introducing you to all of his friends in turn.

Aside from Eric, there was Sangyeon, Jacob, Younghoon, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Kevin, Changmin, Chanhee, Haknyeon, and Sunwoo. While it was a little overwhelming, it was nice going from zero friends to eleven in the span of just a couple days. You were pretty close to all of them, but you and Hyunjae initially hit it off the best. You understood each other on a different level than everyone else and to this day, you still don't know the exact reason why.

Towards the end of high school, your friendship with Hyunjae transformed into something that wasn’t purely platonic. You weren’t entirely sure when it started to change, but your feelings for him grew exponentially. You tried to keep them to yourself, hidden from the world to preserve your fragile teenage heart. Though you’d already been friends with them a few years at that point, you still had that inkling of dread in the pit of your stomach that one day they’d choose to stop talking to you. You especially didn’t want a silly crush to be the cause of that.

After a while, however, the lines began to blur together anyway and everyone could tell you felt for him romantically. Once, Eric had made a comment about it being so painfully obvious that Hyunjae was just as into you and it nearly shook your whole world.

When college time rolled around, you all knew you’d be attending the same university, so picking roommates was a bit of a tricky situation. You chose yours solely based on the fact that you were majoring in similar things, so it’d be easy to fit schedules together. (You also couldn’t handle being roommates with Hyunjae; it’d be too much for your heart.) Hyunjae lived with Juyeon, Changmin, and Sunwoo, while Sangyeon, Younghoon, Chanhee, and Haknyeon lived together.

Hyunjae parks in a spot near the stairs that lead to your unit. The car is still running when you unbuckle your seatbelt and you stare at the steps blankly. Though the close proximity with him has your pulse racing, you want nothing more than some company until your roommates get home. You turn to him shyly, balling up a fistful of your sweater.

“Jae, do you— do you think you could stay with me for a bit before the boys come back? I don’t— I really don’t wanna be alone right now.”

The look he gives you is full of adoration, like you personally put the stars in the sky. He smiles softly and nods, reaching across the center console to place a comforting hand on top of yours. The two of you keep them intertwined as you go inside your apartment, locking all the locks carefully before sitting on your couch.

You don’t make a comment about him not letting go despite already being in the safety of your home. You don’t say anything about him pulling you into his side either, mostly because you want him to.

With all that’s been happening recently, you’ve felt so hollow. There was this indescribable emptiness expanding in you and even though you so desperately wanted to chalk it up to something else, you knew it was due to the fact that there was growing anxiety that you could be next, that any of your friends could be next. You were starting to move like you were in a simulation, doing everything in your daily routine without a single emotion. Sure, you’d laugh when Eric made a stupid joke but that’s about the most anyone could get from you aside from the occasional panic attack.

Hyunjae being here and holding you is exactly what you needed to feel some semblance of warmth again.

There’s a soft knock on your bedroom door around eight that same night, waking you from your slumber. You don’t remember falling asleep or being moved to your bed, so you’re not too sure when Hyunjae left. You rub the sleep from your eyes as you get up to open your door.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you, but we got some takeout if you’re hungry.” Jacob says with an apologetic smile, leaning on the door frame.

You give him a bleary look as you nod, following him into the dining room where your other two roommates were sitting at the table. Eric greets you through a full mouth. A small laugh escapes you when you sit across from him, Kevin adjacent to your seat. The sound of the TV in the living room plays as background noise as the four of you eat.

“So when’d you get home? I thought you were gonna wait for us.” Kevin asks.

“I was, but then I ran into Hyunjae when I was on my way to your building and he offered to bring me home,” you shrug, taking some tteokbokki with your chopsticks. “It was a whole thing, please don’t ask.”

Eric hums to himself, a mischievous grin on his face as he takes a sip of his cola. “Interesting. And you say he’s not into you…”

Heat blooms over your cheeks and you accidentally drop your chopsticks on your plate, their clacking against the ceramic garnering your roommates’ attention. Eric Sohn was now number one on your hit list. Kevin elbows him in the side and tells him to be quiet, despite the tiny upwards curve of his lips.

“If he cares about you as much as he seems like he does, he wouldn’t have left you here alone after you fell asleep,” Jacob mutters, looking at you from his peripherals. “What was the point of escorting you home if—”

“Jacob shut the fuck up,” Eric suddenly blurts, the three of you stare at him as he clambers over to the living room, turning up the volume on the TV. “Look!”

You turn in your chair, your stomach churning at the news report unfolding before you.

“We’re live just outside SNU, where another victim has been found. The body hasn’t been identified yet, but from what we do know, he was a student that attended the school,” the female reporter says into the microphone she’s holding, a glazed over expression in her eyes. “Crime Scene Investigators believe he was murdered at around six this evening, and was assumed to have been making his way home from campus. Updates are expected to come later tonight once we have more information.”

You know that far away, checked out gaze she had all too well. She’s reported on the killings for a while now, no doubt numb to the way things were at this point.

Your appetite spoils immediately and you excuse yourself from the table, making your way back to your room. You sit on your bed and bring your knees to your chest, taking a deep breath in, then covering your mouth when you breathe out to muffle the sob that follows. It was becoming too overwhelming for you and there was nothing you could do about it besides sit back and watch.

It was understandable for anyone in your situation to feel hopeless, how could they not? With someone terrorizing the city in an unpredictable manner, there was no sense of normalcy in anyone’s life. You shudder when you finally bring yourself to stop crying, digging your nails into the fat of your calves.

Through the walls, you can hear the boys talking, voices solemn.

“Why’d you have to put the TV louder, dumbass?”

“Sorry, I just like being up to date on the case, you know? I want to be prepared. What if I need to learn clone jutsu to take out the guy?”

“Eric, you’re such a clown, oh my god.”

“I get that you’re interested and all, but you have to be mindful of Y/N. You know how much this has affected her both emotionally and physically, she doesn’t need the constant reminder that it’s happening. And I’d appreciate if you apologized for telling me to ‘shut the fuck up’.”

There’s a snort in between.

“My bad, I didn’t mean to be rude about it. But while we’re on the topic, I think we both need to admit our mistakes. What you said about Hyunjae to her wasn’t cool either. I know we’re all friends, but it just came across too—”

“It was really snappy, Jacob. And a bit petty.”

“Yeah! What Kevin said.”

“I— you’re right. I just don’t want her getting hurt, in more ways than one.”

You don’t hear much else from the trio and sigh heavily, dragging your hands down your face and wiping your eyes with the heels of your palms. You grab your phone from your nightstand and hesitantly search for Hyunjae’s contact, the line ringing a couple times before he answers.

“Y/N? Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“N-no, I’m fine. I was just— I wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay,” you mess with your bottom lip. “I heard there was another victim and I didn’t know when you left the apartment, so I just— uh— I just needed to know that you were safe. I called to see if you’d answer.”

You squeeze your eyes shut out of embarrassment, even if he can’t exactly see you. The stuttering was enough to make you go into hiding for the rest of your life if this serial killer didn’t.

“Oh,” you can hear the slight chuckle in his response from the way his breath hits the speaker. “It means a lot that you’d do that, N/N. Really, I appreciate you so much.”

Your lip finds itself between your teeth and your heart is pounding unbearably fast, you think you might be having a heart attack. You bring a hand up to clutch at your chest as a fuzzy feeling courses through your whole being.

Now you were scared for an entirely different reason.

(The main one occupies your mind again later that night when you scroll through your Twitter feed, only to find out the most recent victim was the guy you accidentally bumped into. You feel like some sick version of a guardian angel was looking after you. It makes it hard to fall asleep after that.)

A couple days passed and you found yourself thinking about Lee Hyunjae more than usual.

Not to say that you didn’t already think about him at least once a day, but now it was worse. When you woke up, you wondered if he was still asleep. While you drank your morning coffee, you wondered if it’d taste sweeter had he made it for you. When you had lunch, you wondered if he’d like the spam musubi you made yourself. When you attended your other classes, you wondered which courses he was struggling with this semester.

As you were walking out of your English class, you recalled running into him. Had he not been there, you might’ve driven yourself insane trying to rush over to the music building while diffusing the issue with that stranger.

When you first began to harbor feelings for him, you assumed it would become nothing more than a silly schoolgirl crush. He was attractive and kind to you, but that was just the bare minimum— you thought you’d grow out of it. However, as time went on, what you thought was just puppy love had blossomed into something stronger. It was a force to be reckoned with.

Of course, all of that had been tossed on the back burner with everything that’s going on. Recently you’ve been too afraid for your own safety and well-being to over analyze your interactions with Hyunjae, but now you’re back to square one.

All because he’d done something nice for you.

God, the bar was so low. Was it really too much to ask for someone who was decent? Someone who wasn’t a serial killer?

You were on your way to the music building to wait for Jacob, Kevin, and Eric once again, when you see Hyunjae coming down the hall. He’s on his phone, not paying any mind to his surroundings. You’re about to call out to him when someone stops you, tugging on the sleeve of your sweater gently.

“Hey, Y/N right?” The tall boy asks, a charming smile on his face.

“Uh— yeah,” you nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Y-you are?”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I must seem like a total weirdo,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m Mingyu! We have English together.”

“Oh, you’re Mingyu? Professor Park told me about you before class today,” you give him a small comforting smile. “I don’t mind helping you!”

“Ah, that’s great to hear. I was a bit worried you’d be more annoyed about having to tutor someone so late in the semester.” Though he’s much taller than you and approached you first, Mingyu comes across as a little shy in nature. It puts you at ease in a way.

“No, not at all! English isn’t always the easiest, I get that. I wanna help as much as I can before finals. Look,” you pause, pulling your backpack off one shoulder to rip out a sheet of paper. “I’ll give you my number so we can arrange meet up dates! I’d prefer if we met at the library if that’s okay with you?”

Mingyu grins and sports a thumbs up in agreement. “That sounds perfect. Thank you so much, Y/N!”

You scribble your phone number onto the paper and hand it to him before parting ways. With the off guard conversation, you nearly forgot about Hyunjae, who was nowhere to be seen now. You feel your lips droop into a frown, since you were hoping you could talk with him for a second.

As you’re walking across the quad to the music building, a wind chill blows past you, making you wrap your arms around yourself. It was mid November and for some stupid reason, you were only wearing a small cardigan.

When you squint up at the sky, you also realize it’s more overcast than anything. There’s an angry grey cloud right above you and you curse yourself for not having an umbrella or a raincoat. You should've been more prepared, especially because of the inconsistent weather this time of year.

Suddenly, the sky is blocked from your view and you furrow your brows, spinning around. Hyunjae stares back at you with a smile ten times warmer than the frigid air surrounding you and a thicker jacket in one hand. The other holds up an umbrella just as tiny droplets begin to fall from above.

His timing couldn’t have been better.

“Heading to the music building?” He asks, skillfully placing the coat on your shoulders.

“Mhm… was gonna wait for the boys.” You respond, a little awestruck by how gorgeous he was. Especially up close. Your eyes fixate on the freckle on his nose rather than his own. He hums, keeping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you in a different direction.

“I can take you home again,” he glances down at you. “I don’t mind one bit.”

“O-okay!”

During the car ride to your apartment, you send a quick text to your roommates about not waiting up. You were happy that your relationship with Hyunjae was evolving. The past couple semesters had been rough, and you hadn’t seen him or any of the other guys nearly as much as Jacob, Kevin, and Eric. (And that was only because you lived with them.)

You toss your keys on to the mini table beside the front door, taking off your shoes with a small groan. The boots were cute, but not very comfortable. Hyunjae follows suit, his sock clad feet shuffling against the floor to sit on the couch.

After switching on the TV, you find a random Hallmark Christmas movie to play in the background, knowing full well that his presence beside you was too distracting. The brunette turns to face you, placing a hand on your thigh gently to get your attention.

“So, who was the dude you were talking to earlier?”

You blink at his question. So he saw you after all. Was he perhaps jealous? The idea shouldn’t make you giddy, but it does. “My professor asked me to tutor him ‘cause he’s struggling with English. Why?”

“Just curious. He seemed a little touchy.” Hyunjae plays with the hem of your sweater.

“O-oh. It’s fine, he wasn’t a random perv, if that’s what you were wondering.”

He scoots a little closer to you, tucking some hair behind your ear. You feel your face flush impossibly hotter. Your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat. His body heat radiates off of him with the new proximity.

“Good. It drives me crazy seeing other guys put their hands on you.” He admits bluntly, his hand resting at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder.

You know you look insane, your chest heaving up and down and your eyes widened a little. Like a baby deer caught by a predator. Who knew sweet sweet Hyunjae had a rather risqué side to him? You swallow thickly, not daring to move an inch. His thumb caresses your skin gently, goosebumps littering in its wake.

“Hyunjae…” You breathe, lips parting as you finally make eye contact with him.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You want to scream into the cushion behind you, your hands clamming up. Hyunjae looks like he could swallow you whole if he wanted to, his bottom lip between his teeth as he leans in a bit more. This moment was something straight out of one of your darkest fantasies. You never thought this would ever happen, that either of you would ever actually make a move on the other.

The sound of the front door unlocking catches both of your attention. Hyunjae pulls away from you faster than your brain can comprehend what exactly just occurred. Jacob is the first to walk in, laughing at something Eric said. The three males pause when they see you’re not alone.

The greetings are quick, Hyunjae dapping up the boys as if nothing. He’s also quick to say goodbye, ensuring them that he’ll make sure you’re safe when they’re not around. He gives you that smile of his, the one where his eyes form crescents, and then he’s gone.

You don’t know how much more of this you could take.

“So, Y/N…” Eric starts in the middle of dinner, side eyeing you as he shovels rice into his mouth. “You and Hyunjae have been together an awful lot lately.”

Kevin snorts, kicking the blonde under the table. You suppose it was going to come up eventually. This ‘Will They, Won’t They’ back and forth shit was starting to tire you out. You weren’t getting any younger. Time was passing you up the longer you waited to just say something. And with all that’s been going on, it was silly to be afraid of admitting your feelings.

“He’s being a good friend, Eric,” Jacob sighs, reaching across to flick him on the forehead. “It’s actually really nice that he watches over Y/N when we’re gone.”

Eric grimaces, rubbing the spot that Jacob assaulted. You frown a bit when you realize that he had a point. Hyunjae was treating you like a child that had to be tended to, babysitting you like you weren’t capable of holding your own. Granted, both times he’s come over, you asked him to. So you couldn’t really blame him for assuming you wanted him around to protect you.

“Do y’all think Hyunjae actually likes me? In a non-platonic way?”

Kevin’s spoon clatters onto the floor and they all pause their banter to look at you. Every time your feelings for Hyunjae were brought up, you chose to ignore them and switch the subject. You can’t keep running away.

“Uh— yeah. Duh. Of course he does. I don’t know anyone else who would go out of their way to stay with someone they saw as just a friend multiple times a week so she felt safe.” Kevin finally answers after a moment.

“Okay.” You settle on, taking a sip of your water.

“What do you mean ‘okay’?” He raises an eyebrow at you, but you just shrug.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

As you’re washing the dishes after dinner, you hear the news broadcast over the faucet. Another victim had just been found behind the campus library. The camera shows the scene behind the reporter, something that would’ve made you queasy a couple days ago, but now you feel nothing— just a dull ache in your chest. It’s messy, almost like the killer was in a hurry to get it over with.

The body is covered with a black tarp, paramedics wheeling it away in the corner of the screen. The reporter still wears that dissociated expression on her face as she goes over the details of this victim. She explains that because the murder was done so haphazardly, they were able to identify the body easily.

Twenty three year old Kim Mingyu, Sports Med Major.

The rest of the news report sounds like static in your ears as you scrub away at the dishes mindlessly. Your fingers have pruned and the water was burning the backs of your hands, but you don’t feel it, too checked out to care. It seemed like the killings were getting closer and closer to you. Part of you thought you’d be next every single time.

You had to tell Hyunjae how you felt. It was now or never.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s waiting outside of your apartment complex, leaning against his car. You take careful steps down the stairs, nearly fainting at the sight of him in a hoodie and grey sweatpants. He runs around the car to open the passenger door for you, only shutting it when you’re all buckled up. It’s not long after that he revs the engine and drives off to nowhere in particular, just like you requested. (Curfew ignored.)

It’s silent at first, save for the low hum of his music, R&B that resonates somewhere within your soul. You can’t help but steal a glance from your peripheral, fisting your sweatshirt when you see how concentrated he looks while driving. He has his right hand resting on the gear shift, the other gripping the wheel. You could’ve had this view all to yourself so long ago had you just spoken up.

“Hyunjae,” your voice is wobbly, but you steel yourself to continue. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Do you think— uh— do you think you could pull over?” If you were going to confess, you wanted him to look at you. Besides, the drive was starting to make you jittery.

He nods and goes a bit further, before pulling into an empty lot. He shifts into park, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn his body towards you, giving you his undivided attention. You mirror him, tightening your hold on your sweater when he wets his lips, smiling at you. “Is this what you called me for?”

“Yeah, actually,” you force yourself to keep eye contact, pushing the lump back down your throat. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for years now, if I’m being honest with both of us.”

He chuckles, much like he did the other night over the phone. It drives you just a little crazy. “I’m listening.”

“I— I don’t know how to word this properly…” You wipe your palms on your legs. Come on, Y/N, spit it out already. “Fuck, okay, I like you Hyunjae. Like, really like you. In the way that I sometimes wish you would kiss me until I can’t breathe. I’ve been so afraid of admitting that to myself, but I’ve realized that life is way too short to dwell over the fear of rejection. But please, tell me you feel the same.”

He stares at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. You feel like throwing up now, you stomach twisting and churning at the thought that you just ruined everything between you. There was no going back after this. He knew.

It’s as if months have passed by in utter silence with Hyunjae just sitting there, no words coming out of his mouth, until finally, he just leans across the center console, cupping your cheek with one of his hands. His vision is trained on your lips, his face close enough that his lashes flutter against your skin. God, he was even more gorgeous from this distance.

Instead of saying anything, he presses his lips to yours, a sweet but desperate kiss that melts away all the worries tucked into your head. They feel so soft on your own, molding together in near perfect timing. It’s like you’d been living for a year without rain and this kiss was the shower that saved you from a drought. It’s all you’ve ever wanted and needed and more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he breathes when he pulls away slightly. “The real thing is so much better than I imagined it would be.”

For once, time slows down in this moment, almost like the world stopped spinning on its axis. Everything slips from your mind and it’s just you and Hyunjae, here in his car in the middle of an empty parking lot. Nothing else matters. You smile at his confession, a genuine smile that was spurred on by contentment rather than force. You felt light and airy, no longer weighed down by such a trivial problem.

“I think I have an idea,” you giggle, reaching up to brush a stray hair from his face. “I’m not too sure, though, I could be wrong. Could you do that again to help jog my memory?”

Hyunjae laughs, (it’s the most melodic sound you’ve ever heard) but doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. You reciprocate his passion, tangling your fingers in his dark hair. He sighs into the kiss, pulling you on top of him. Your legs straddle his lap as best as they can and he reaches down to recline his seat, scooting it as far as it can go from the wheel. The thin material of your fleece shorts hardly hide the feeling of him under you, a low moan pushing into his mouth.

He nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth gently before peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking along the exposed skin from your sweatshirt. You whine, throwing your head back as his tongue soothes over the bruising area. His hands slide under your top, rubbing up and down your sides before moving them down to your thighs, repeating the action.

“You’re so gorgeous on top of me like this, Y/N.” Hyunjae says, just above a whisper like someone else might hear this intimate conversation. He grips your hips and bucks upwards to grind into your clothed core. Your eyes widen and you involuntarily moan at the sensation. This wasn’t what you were expecting when you planned to confess, but you didn’t hate the outcome. He grins at your response, reconnecting your mouths sloppily.

If you were given the choice, you were wholeheartedly satisfied with just this. You would’ve been plenty okay with just making out. Had you been asked years ago that you’d even get this far, you would’ve snorted in your own face, so why should you be greedy and want more than what you had? (That’s not to say that you didn’t.)

“H-Hyunjae,” you stutter, your brain foggy from all of the kissing you just did. “Do you…?”

You trail off, not sure how to word your question. You didn’t want to come off like a sex crazed maniac, but you didn’t want to come off like an amateur virgin either. Truth of the matter is, you were neither, but it had been a while since you indulged yourself in something of this sort. And this time it would be with Hyunjae, the one person you never thought you’d do this with. You were nervous.

All you wanted was to be entwined with him in more ways than one. You wanted all of him— the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, the sick, the healthy. He could do no wrong on your eyes and you wanted to show him that.

“Do I…?” Hyunjae trails off, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you want to make love… with me?” This had to be the single most mortifying moment of your life. You cover your face in humiliation, shying away from him when he sits up on his elbows.

“What kind of question is that?” He asks with a chuckle, prying your hands from your face so he could look you in the eyes. “If I could make love to you every hour of the day, for seven days a week, I would. I want you all the time, Y/N. Earlier today, before we got interrupted, I wanted to do unimaginable things to you.”

You hide yourself in the crook of his neck, your skin flushing hotter. Weren't you wearing too many layers? The car was starting to feel stuffy. Hyunjae’s chest rumbles with laughter beneath you, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. This is probably the gentlest he’d be with you all night, because from what you could infer, he was a manhandler.

“Take care of me,” you breathe, mouth brushing against his pulse point. “Please.”

Hyunjae stops holding himself back. He’d do whatever you asked of him, only hoping you’d be tied to him in every lifetime, just like this one. He kisses you again with an unrivaled fervor, slipping his hands inside your sweatshirt and touching you everywhere physically possible. They’re warm on your skin, palming your breasts over the flimsy fabric of your bralette.

He helps you get rid of your top and shorts, leaving you in just undergarments. The sight of you barely clothed sends him into a frenzy, especially knowing it’s for his eyes only. You aid Hyunjae in pulling off his hoodie and yanking his sweatpants down his long legs. The minute most of your restrictions are gone, Hyunjae brings you closer to him. He hisses at the contact, the warmth of your cunt through your panties putting him under a spell.

You whimper when his touch travels down your front, sneaking into the waistband of your underwear. The pads of his middle and ring fingers apply the lightest amount of pressure onto your clit the second he finds it, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your nails on one hand dig into his shoulder while the other trails down his abdomen, rubbing up and down his length through his boxer briefs.

Hyunjae groans into your kiss and you gasp for air as you tear from him, resting your forehead on his to watch as you get each other off through your clothes. If earlier was something taken from one of your wet dreams, what did this constitute as? You clench around nothing when he pushes up into you, your wrists clashing. Knowing he was just as down bad for you as you were for him just made this all that much more real.

“I need to feel you around me,” he mumbles in your ear, dipping his fingers in and out of you languidly as if to explain what he meant. “Let me stretch you out.”

You nod in response, fumbling with his briefs. Hyunjae lifts his hips enough for you to help him out of them. You groan when he reveals his impressive size, wondering how exactly he expected you to take him. He pushes your panties to the side, mimicking the sound you just made when he sees your bare pussy drooling for him. You eventually get frustrated and line him up with your hole, sinking down in one fluid motion. A voluminous moan escapes from the back of your throat, his dick throbbing achingly inside of you. At first you stay still like that, your pelvises touching as you adjust to his length and girth.

“H-holy shit— you’re s-so deep, Jae,” you cry, resting your forehead against his yet again. He pecks your lips, holding onto your hips to help you bounce on his cock, practically impaling you every single time.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Such a good fucking girl,” Hyunjae grunts, the warmth of your walls drawing him in even further. “So tight, too.”

Your thighs begin to burn and your movements become slower, which he takes note of instantaneously. He bends his knees and forces your upper half impossibly closer to him, thrusting up into you. This new angle allows him to find that one spongy spot that has you seeing stars, fogging up your brain and even your vision.

You cast a downward glance at the minimal space between where the two of you are connected. Your moans and whines grow louder with the view of every thrust of his hips into yours. Hyunjae sneaks his hand in the middle of you, his fingers expertly toying with your clit. Any more stimulation and the band in your stomach is snapping.

You’ve had sex before. You’ve slept with a handful of other guys in the past, but nothing could ever compare to this moment. Your cunt had already memorized his size and every vein, effectively ruining the chances of any other man doing this with you. Lee Hyunjae had you in a chokehold whether he realized it or not. He had you wrapped around his finger without really trying, but you could never complain.

Your walls squeeze his cock and he knows he won’t last much longer, shutting his eyes tightly. “C’mon baby, you gonna cum for me?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, your skin flush on his own. “Wanna cum so bad for you, Hyunjae.”

“Yeah? Me too, sweetheart,” he pants, the thumb on your hip pressing against the bone. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you babble. “Please, please. I want you to cum inside me, Hyunjae.”

He kisses you softly just then, swallowing your pretty moans with something completely opposite of what he’s already given you, and that’s what sends you spiraling, fluttering around him. He groans, spilling into you and letting you milk him dry of everything he has to offer, painting your insides just like you asked him to.

You lay like that for a while, Hyunjae’s dick still buried in you to the hilt. Both of you attempt to catch your breaths and bring yourselves down from the well-anticipated euphoric state you just visited. You giggle at the condensation coating the windows of his car, extending your arm to draw a heart and a smiley face with your finger. He slowly pulls himself out, hissing at the sensitivity, but doesn’t make a move to get you off of his chest.

Where do you go from here? A line had just been crossed and you weren’t entirely sure you knew what he wanted from you. It’s one thing to imagine kissing and fucking someone extensively. But it was another to actually want a tangible, romantic relationship from them, to actually capacitate feelings for them.

“I love you,”

You jolt up and stare at him with widened eyes. Did those words really just come out of his mouth? As if he can read your mind, he nods. There’s a dragged out sigh, followed by him sitting up slightly with you perched on his lap.

“I really do, Y/N. I’ve felt this way for years and I’m willing to do anything for you.” He admits, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. You kiss him gently, the pad of your thumb swiping across his cheekbone.

“I love you, too.”

The Saturday after your night in Hyunjae’s car brought everything into perspective for you.

You hadn’t spoken to him since he dropped you off at your apartment and it was beginning to worry you. Even though you made sure he reciprocated your emotions, there still could’ve been a misunderstanding. Had you been too forward? Did you scare him away? Did something happen to him? Whatever the explanation was, you didn’t like the eerie feeling it started brewing in your stomach— it was foreboding.

In spite of not talking to them at all in what seemed to be a month or so, you tried calling each of your mutual friends to see if you could get some answers. Not even his roommates picked up their phones and this made you much more uneasy. You pace back and forth in your living room, nicking at your bottom lip with your nails. Why did he choose now of all times to ghost you? What went wrong?

Kevin comes out of his bedroom a couple minutes later, expecting to grab his morning coffee as usual. When he finds you nearly on the brink of insanity instead, he decides to intervene. He supposed his caffeine could wait until his best friend was calmed down. You jump in surprise, holding a fist to your chest. He raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, my bad. What’s up? Why do you look like you’re going through a quarter life crisis?” Kevin asks you, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Is everything okay?”

“I—“ you pause and take a deep breath. “I don’t know…”

His eyebrows furrow and he guides you to the sofa so you could sit down. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?”

“Hyunjae hasn’t talked to me since Thursday night, after he brought me back here,” your voice is hoarser than you’d like it to be. “I-I texted and called him a bunch but he hasn’t replied. I even— I even tried Juyo, Sunwoo, and Changmin. No luck with them either. I’m concerned, Kev.”

Kevin combs through his hair, pursing his lips in thought. “Yeah, okay, I would be too. It's a little weird that none of them are responding. Have you thought of just showing up at his place to check in on him?”

You shake your head. “No, I didn’t want him to think I’m clingy and annoying in case he was there. What if he just wants to get me off of his back and he’s telling them to ignore me?”

“I don’t think that’s the case at all, Y/N,” your friend sighs, putting his glasses on top of his head and running a hand down his face. “Hyunjae has never been that kind of person in all the years we’ve known him. I highly doubt he’d switch up now. Plus, he’s literally crazy about you. I’m pretty sure the guy would move heaven and earth for you if he could. I think there’s a very real and genuine possibility that something is seriously wrong. It’s like— it’s just a gut feeling, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” If Kevin felt this way, too, that would only mean one thing, right? You had to get to the bottom of this. There was a chance that lives depended on it. A quick roll of your neck and you’re standing. “I’m gonna go over there. I can’t leave things unanswered. I can’t wait for a fucking news report.”

The ravenette pats the top of your head. “Be careful, N/N. Please.”

You give him a nod before you’re slipping into your shoes and grabbing his car keys. You’re not exactly dressed for a confrontation if there is one— clad in a pair of sweatpants, an oversized sweatshirt with your university’s crest on it, and socks with sandals— but you were too preoccupied to care.

The drive itself was mentally taxing, your brain dissociating most of the ride. You’re not sure how many of the lights you passed were actually green. The closer you got to Hyunjae’s apartment, the more that trepidation settling in your lower abdomen grew. Throughout your life, you’d never been the type of person who acted on instinct or had a nagging voice in the rear of your head warning you about situations you got into. You usually went with the flow and if you made a mistake, you allowed yourself to learn from it.

However, that was prior to being thrown into a period of uncertainty like this one. Now, all you could do was act on instinct. All you could do was listen to the stupid nagging voice in the rear of your head yelling at you. All you could do was follow the blaring alarms and caution signs in your field of vision. And this time they were almost deafening.

Kevin’s car rolls to a stop outside of Hyunjae’s building, occupying an empty spot three away from the front of the stairs. Your pulse races when you step out of the vehicle and immediately recognize the cars in the spaces beside yours. Hyunjae’s, Juyeon’s, and Changmin’s. You notice a thin layer of dirt caking Juyeon and Changmin’s, as if they’d remained unmoved for a long time. Perturbed wasn’t a big enough word to describe what was going through your mind.

Half of you was terrified to take a step towards the stairs, let alone ascend them to Hyunjae’s floor. What would go down when you reached his apartment? What would happen the moment that door opened?

You ball your hands into fists, the edges of your nails jabbing the skin of your palms. The pain steels you enough to move forward, walking up the stairs slowly. There’s a chill tiptoeing along your spine the whole trip up, like your body knew what you were getting yourself into before you did. Maybe you were stupid. Only an idiot would lead themselves blindly into a scenario without knowing the outcome.

It’s been minutes of you staring at the slightly rusted numbers on Hyunjae’s door before you register that you’re standing in front of it. If you're being honest, you have no idea what you’re doing. You were acting on autopilot— progressing without a thought of what’s coming next. A shuddered breath leaves your lips and you raise your knuckles to the door.

The first knock is too soft to hear if the inhabitants were in their bedrooms, so you apply more force the second time. The sound reverberates through the hall, a wince appearing on your features. If someone was inside, surely they had to have heard that one. You wait a little longer for the door to swing open and reveal one of your friends looking perfectly fine. For Juyeon to showcase that grin of his that reaches his eyes and ask what you were doing here. For Changmin to give you that sweet smile that puffed up his cheeks and ask what you needed. For Sunwoo to blow a raspberry before he laughed at how silly you were for stressing over them. For Hyunjae to reassure you that it was all going to be okay, that he loved you. You were praying for that.

But no one showed up on the other end of that doorway and you were stuck glaring at that same painted board of wood.

That’s what sends your instincts into overdrive. Your hand grabs the knob, twisting it just in case. It makes a full rotation, pushing open the door the tiniest bit. You peek inside carefully and find all the lights in the living room and kitchen off. Your teeth bite down on your lip as you enter the apartment. One of the things you hated about it, was the annoying buzz of the fluorescent lights in their bathroom. And for some reason, that was all that infiltrated your ears.

The door for said bathroom was cracked just a tad at the end of the hallway, but what caught your attention was the room closest to you— also cracked the most miniscule amount. You see light filtering through, an almost orange glow like that of a desk lamp. Your stupidity would be your downfall, you conclude, your feet gravitating to the room. It’s Hyunjae’s you recall when you’re outside of it. They always say curiosity killed the cat, and you couldn’t help but revert to a feline and nudge it open with your foot.

You really wished that saying was just that— a saying.

Eric sits ahead of you, tied to a chair in the middle of the room. There’s a piece of fabric gagging his mouth and his clothes are tattered, blood staining nearly every inch. A long gash runs along his left bicep and a myriad of smaller cuts litter his face and arms. What your focus lands on first are the several deep stab wounds on his thighs.

A hand comes up to cup your mouth to keep yourself from screaming at the sight of your best friend in this position. He struggles against his restraints, muffled cries for your assistance shattering your heart into a thousand pieces like broken shards of glass. Tear streaks mixed with dried blood cover the apples of his cheeks.

“Oh my god, Eric,” your voice wobbles as you scramble to free him. “Oh my god…”

You pull down the fabric in his mouth first and he gasps for air. His eyes widen at something behind you and he warns, “Y/N—!” before he’s interrupted by your yelp. The person pressed into your back has their arm around your neck with a hold tight enough that you can’t escape, but loose enough that you can breathe, the blunt edge of a knife grazing the column of your throat.

“Tsk tsk, Youngjae. You should know that making so much noise when your killer’s not in the room just alerts them of suspicious activity. That’s survival 101, my friend. Isn’t that right, sweet sweet Y/N?”

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Please, let her go, Hyunjae.” Eric begs. Hyunjae hums, nuzzling his nose in your hair. He rolls his eyes and scoffs after inhaling your scent, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“God, you’re a mouthy one. Not even Juyeon and Sunwoo were this chatty when I slit their throats— then again, it's not like they could talk much anyway.” He snorts.

You felt sick. You were lightheaded now, just at the thought of your friends gone. “W-why are you doing this?”

Hyunjae grumbles, pouting his lips. “Time for me to unravel my evil villain monologue, huh?” He slips a hand under your sweatshirt and pinches the side of your waist. “Well here it is; what you’re dying to know. The first incident was by complete accident, we were simply having a discussion about why he shouldn’t have been staring at your ass while his girlfriend was next to him at Jeong Jaehyun’s end of summer bonfire. The dude got pissed off that I called him out and tried to start a fight, but I shoved him so hard, he fell and hit his head on a rock. I just couldn’t find it in myself to feel bad about it so I left him there like nothing. From then on, anyone who came between us or remotely hurt you in any way wound up on the receiving end of this knife. Funny isn’t it? How you’re the one beneath it this time?”

It all began to fall into place once he laid the cards out on the table for you to read. The guy you ran into Tuesday after class. Poor Kim Mingyu, who just wanted to pass his English final. Your friends not picking up their phones. And supposedly it was all in the name of love.

“Y-you did that for me?”

“Of course, baby,” Hyunjae mutters into the shell of your ear. “I said I’d protect you didn’t I? I just want you all to myself.”

“What the fuck does that possessive bullshit have to do with me? What did it have to do with Juyo or Changmin or Sunwoo?” Eric cries. “Oh god, what about—?”

“Sangyeon, Hoon, Chanhee, Hak? Yeah, those four were taken care of way before my own roommates. You, obviously, were the chosen one this go around. Then it would be Kevin and lastly, Jacob. I planned on stopping after you three unless absolutely necessary.”

“How is any of this fucking necessary? You’re psychotic,” the blonde exclaims, still wriggling in his restraints. “Why would Y/N want you after all of this? Did you really believe she’d never find out about what you’ve done?”

Hyunjae glides the smooth edge of the blade against your skin and releases you from his grip, but takes a hold of your wrist, placing the handle in your grasp. He urges you forward, closer to Eric. “If she was scared of me, don’t you think she would’ve tried harder to escape me? Didn’t even blink when I held the knife to her neck.”

The brunette kisses your temple and you watch the fear in Eric’s eyes morph into defeat. “After everything we’ve been through? I’ve known you since eighth grade, Y/N. Eighth fucking grade. And this is how it ends?”

“H-he loves me,” you stutter, glancing at Hyunjae. “Don’t you?”

“You don’t kill your best friends out of love, Y/N! He’s insane! Please, don’t let him get into your head. You’re not that kind of person.” Eric attempts to reason.

Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you were. Who knows? That didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact that Hyunjae loved you. He loved you so much that he’d kill for you. Over and over and over again.

It was kind of comical that you loved him all the same. You, too, would kill for him. Over and over and over again.

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #the boyz hyunjae #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #tbz hyunjae #lee hyunjae #lee hyunjae x reader #lee hyunjae smut #hyunjae #hyunjae x reader #hyunjae smut #juyeonszn

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ineylesian · 1 year

Note

hey sable babe! for your event can i just request a lil blurb with simon? maybe getting back from a mission and cleaning his eye makeup off? just some fluff with him <33

LINGER

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY X READER

— AO3 | MASTERLIST | SPRING 2023 EVENT

— WORD COUNT | 1.2k

— WARNINGS | petnames (lovie, dove), kinda ooc ghost?

— SUMMARY | you’re always looking out for ghost, even in the little things.

— AUTHOR’S NOTE | okay this is a lil ooc but it’s the best i can do on a drabble, trying to keep it short and sweet <3

It’s been 16 hours and 3 refills since you took off.

An elongated sigh pushes through Price’s mouth as the pilot announces you’re about to land, lightly coating over the static bicker of Soap and Gaz over what type of crackers are the best. They cease only at the shrill whistle of his fingers, mildly annoyed glances molding to excitement when they see the ground.

“Back to the motherland.” Soap manages through a stretch, earning numerous questionable gazes from those around him. “What’a you say about hitting the bar?”

Cheers follow, and your eyes shut at the uproar that starts the moment the aircraft touches the ground. You flatten yourself against the wall as soldiers pass, berating your ears with plans of what bar to go to as they walk.

When your feet finally do meet the soil, Soap is already coming your way, expectant gaze joined with a bright smile. Price manages to still a hand on your shoulder before he can reach it, and you silently inhale in relief.

“Comin’ along, lass?” He questions, head nodding toward the mass of your squadron heading for the streets. “Looks like you could use a drink or two.”

“Bloody Hell. Get lost, Johnny.”

A second presence settles at your side, and you can already sense the annoyance radiating off of him. Ghost holds a squint to Soap, glancing to you after a round of silence passes.

“Yeah, uh, John.. I think I’ll stay in tonight.” You smile, lightly patting the hand Price slipped off your shoulder. “Captain will keep you company, yeah?”

Price sighs once more, waving Soap off with a flick of his finger.

“You know the hotel we’ll be checking in at?”

Ghost nods, and you follow suite. Your luggage sits encased between his arms and chest, with a tiny bag of his own strung over his back.

“Right, then I’ll see you two later.” Price turns around, steps dragging as he takes off after his men. “If I’m even alive by then.”

He waves, and soon enough, the two of you are the only that remain on the airstrip. Silence encompasses your ride to the hotel, with your taxi driver holding a near bewildered gaze at the sight of Ghost. You’re even forced to send him up to your room to stop the hotel workers from shivering while checking in.

It’s still quiet when you unlock the door. The sight of relief that escapes you is smothered by his presence, and you decide to leave him be, offering a light squeeze to his arm as you take your things. He ducks down while you string his own bag from your fingers, mask lifting up to peck you on the cheek.

“Cheers, lovie.”

You smile, stealing a quick graze of his lips before he can pull it back down.

“I’ll get some towels from the lobby.”

Once the bags are set, you head out. To your dismay, one of the same workers that helped check you in earlier is in the area, and they greet you with a rather particular smile that has you nearly running back to your room. The shower is off once you return, so you slip one of the towels in your stack through the door.

Just as you start to unpack, a string of curses falls privy to your ears. Worry settles in your gut, and you quickly make your way back to the bathroom, only to gape at the sight before you.

Ghost stands in front of the mirror, fully dressed. However, the towel you had given him less than a minute ago is stained black, as is his skin. Dark, watery streaks leak from his eyes, dragged down to his collarbone likely from putting on his shirt. He sighs before setting the sodden towel down, glancing at you through the mirror’s reflection.

“Rubbish.” He scowls, running a hand through his hair. “Ran out of wipes.”

Wipes?

You nearly gasp, leaving Ghost and returning within a matter of seconds. He turns toward you at the sound of the bathroom door closing, eyes widening as you hold a pack of makeup wipes against your chest.

“You mentioned how you hate scented ones, so I got the fragrance free kind.” You’re practically grinning now, fingers pointing to the label on the bottom of the package. “And they’re family size!”

He’s quiet. It feels like his breath is caught in his throat, wrapping around his tongue and choking him. Darkened eyes gaze at you, slightly wide with shock. Nearly at a loss for words, his mouth slowly parts, and he blinks.

There’s a warmth that pools in his chest, consuming all that he is. It’s unfamiliar, and he wants to be scared. But it’s you, and the reminder makes his fingers twitch.

“Lovie..”

“Ah ah-“ Your spare hand reaches out, poking his chest as your head cranes away from him. “You’re not kissing me until your face is clean.”

Ghost grumbles lightly at your objection, picking you up and set you on the counter. You set the wipes down, gently clasping your hands together. He’s nearly level height with you now, caked eyelashes darting from their hold on your gaze to the mirror once they’re caught.

You fold the first wipe in half, starting at the base of his collarbone. His skin is warm to the touch, holding the urge to dote on him tightly behind your teeth. That wipe, along with three others, are completely used by the time you reach his jawline.

“Halfway there.” You declare, tilting his chin with your fingers. “Okay so far?”

Ghost hums, bringing his hands up to your thighs to steady himself. He’s still, entirely compliant as you drag wipe after wipe against the filth, slowly unveiling the skin underneath. A sigh escapes him as you graze over his eyes, rebuilding the contrast set by umber irises. After a few more, you toss the last wipe in the trash, swiping your hands together with a nod.

“All done.”

He’s looking at you, eyes glazed over with a mix of longing and harrow. He can’t speak. He still can’t believe you’d paid so much attention.. watched him so closely— done something out of the kindness of your heart just for him.

Ghost is pulled from his thoughts at the brush of your fingers against his cheek, and his eyes come into focus. He feels your lips next, and you taste exactly like that lip balm you offered him when he was grumbling about his lips chapping.

And suddenly, he gets it. From this, to the time you offered to share a bunk with Soap so he could have space to himself. You’d always done so much, even when he was undeserving of your kindness. Just having you around seemed to be a gift from the heavens itself.

“I owe ya, Dove.” His voice is just above a whisper, fanning over your lips in warmth breaths. “Wish I could give you the world.”

He knew he could never truly pay you back, but he could damn well try.

“Stick around, Simon.” You manage between the latch of his lips, offering a smile that would linger in his mind until the his last breath. “That’s payback enough.”

#arqhms #arqhmsspring2023 #call of duty modern warfare #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley fanfic #ghost x you #ghost x y/n

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whorhees · 1 year

Text

Ghost from your past {Creed III}

Adonis x wife! oc x onesided! Dame

Description: Spoilers for Creed 3. Jade, Adonis, and Dame were all friends when they were teenagers. However, things changed when they all grew apart. Adonis and Jade were able to rekindle their love for each other and even start a family, they get revisited by a ghost that they’ve been trying to forget about.

Authors note: I’m mentally ill for these men so I wrote more self indulgent shit. I’m gonna see how many chapters I can string out, it’s pretty weird that I’m going in reverse anyways but who cares.

{face claim @/aerincreer on Instagram}

Jade sat in her window, staring out at the street.

It was about nine pm, and nothing good happens on the streets of LA past eight. But she was waiting for something, more like someone.

Just then, the lights of a car slowly pulled into view and stopped in front of her house. She grins, leaving her window seat to go downstairs. She tip-toed past her father sleeping on the couch and walked out the front door. She had to push open her gate so it wouldn’t make a loud noise if she punched in the code. Afterward, she ran up to the car and leaned in the roll-down window.

“What you sneakin' around for shawty?” Dame grins as he stared at the light skin girl. “I was just comin' by and seein if you were up. Don’t you got class in the morning?” “Both of y’all got class in the morning” She props her arm up on the window, glancing over at Adonis. He was always nervous to talk to her, even after all these years. “Hey Donnie, why so quiet?” The boy cleared his throat, shaking his head. “That’s funny coming from you. Didn’t you just start learning how to talk?”

Jade rolled her eyes. “Yeah, six years ago. Shut up. Where y’all rolling off to?” “My match,” Dame says proudly, tapping the bag that Adonis had on his lap. “I’m ready to win baby” “Ooh! Can I come? Please?” Jade smiles, leaning towards the back seat. “You said one day I can see your boxing matches, come on Dame!” “Nah Shawty” Jade frowns, her bottom lips forming into a pout. “Why not? C'mon, you promised!” “I know I did. I keep my promises baby, You’ll see me. Check it” Dame fully turns towards her, placing his hand on top of hers.

“You’ll see me, my face plastered everywhere. My name on them announcement posters like Mike Tyson, and, you’ll be there front row when I beat his ass. You and Donnie” Jade’s smile began to grow on her face. Her head cocked to the side, “You better not be lying. Because I still think it’s unfair that I can’t see you fight” Jade backed away from the car, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow”

“Bet. The same spot as always” He nodded, putting the car in drive. “Now sneak back into your castle Rapunzel” Jade flipped Dame off before sneaking back into the gates, locking them behind her.

Adonis looked at Dame, nearly having stars in his eyes. “..Cause one day, I’m gonna save you” He pulled away from Jade’s house and went into the main road. “You like her?” Adonis asked, staring out the rearview mirror. “…Something like that.” Dame turns to his friend and grinned. “When I make it, I’ll do my thing with you, bro. Scoop out some ladies, then settle down with her.

I have it allll planned out”

“Come on Honey and Blue” Jade walked out with dry towels as the twins climbed out of the pool. She promised them that on the first warm day, they could do so, but it was drawing close to the sun setting. “Your dad is going to be home soon” Blue removes his goggles. “Will I get to show him my picture I made today?” “Of course, after you take a bath” Blue grins and ran into the house to a bathroom. Jade turns to her daughter, quiet like always. She signs to her.

‘What’s wrong?’

Honey glanced at her, shaking her head. She moved closer to her mother and leaned into her. Now she got it, she missed Adonis. That’s all. “Don’t worry, he’ll be home soon” Jade picks up the little girl and took her to the bathroom.

Hours passed and Adonis wasn’t home, it was weird. He would usually call if he was going to be at the gym late. She sat on the couch with the twins, watching Blue’s favorite Tv show while honey curled up next to her. The front door finally opened and Jade stood up. “I’ll be back, Blue watch your sister” “Okay mama”

Jade walked down the steps to the front door, her arms crossed. “And where were you?” Adonis turns towards her, a smile on his face. “Baby-“ “I called you multiple times Adonis. You had me worried sick!” Jade playfully smacked his arm. “You aren’t gonna believe who I ran into” Jade tilts her head, her eyebrows knitted together with confusion. “Who?”

“Man…This place is nice…” Jade peered passed her husband, her arms dropping to her side and her eyes widened. “What’s up lil lady?” “Dame…?” He smiled, walking passed Adonis. “At least someone remembered me first. No bullshit” He held his arms out, looking at the woman. “What? No hug for me?” Jade had conflict in her eyes. “Yeah, of course!” She hugged the man, it was strange. Seeing him after all these years.

“And who are these little rascals?” Jade’s eyes snapped open and she pulled back from the hug. She turned around and stared at the twins who stood there, Honey held her brother’s hand who greeted the stranger with a hard unwelcoming stare. “Oh, Dame. These are the twins, Honey and Blue” “Twins…y’all had twins?” Dame crouched down to the height of the children, extending his hand. “Im Uncle Dame”

Blue looked at his parents, his glare didn’t falter. “You’ll have to forgive them. The twins aren’t too fond of strangers” Dame chuckled and stood back. “It’s cool, I would be lookin at a nigga weird if someone I aint know was in my house” Jade glanced at Adonis before walking over to the twins. “It’s bedtime babies, I’ll be up soon okay?” Jade moved Blue’s face gently to look at her. “Okay?”

“…okay” Blue took Honey’s hand and lead her to their shared bedroom.

“How is it possible that they both like you and Adonis? That’s just crazy” Dame turned back to the couple that stared awkwardly at him. “Dame, how have you been? Would you like some dinner?” “Oh please, I would love to” Dame took off his jacket and placed it on the coat rack near the door. “I’ve been cool, Just got out. Tryin' to get my PO off my back” “That’s good…” Jade led the two men to the kitchen, and the chef was finishing up the meal. “Yeah, how have you been Jade?”

“I’ve been okay” Jade moved to put the plates on the table for the three of them. “Got your modeling career off the ground? I had all your shoots when I was in the pin” Jade sat beside her husband. “Did you? I always look at my early work and cringe a bit” “Nah, you still look as good as the last time I saw you” Dame watched as the chef poured the food onto his plate. “Private chef, glass floors…yall really went all Hollywood huh” Adonis chuckled and reached for his fork. “Yeah, I guess you could say that”

“No really, you guys don’t come around the hood no more.” Jade sighed as she picked with her food. “Nothing is for us there anymore. Times changed Dami” Dame smiled, pointing his fork at the girl. “Not long enough if you still callin' me Dami. It’s fine”

It was a long awkward silence, mainly on Jade and Adonis’s part. They didn’t know what to say to the man, he felt like a stranger again. The boy they grew up with, someone they just locked away and tried to forget about…he’s here in their house. “So, what do you plan on doing now that you’re out?” “I want to get back in the game” Jade rose her eyebrow. “The game…As in boxing?” Dame smiled. “Yeah, Adonis promised to put me on”

Jade side-eyes her husband quickly. “Did he…” “I told him I’ll see what I can do” Adonis corrected them, stuffing his face full of food. “Okay,” Jade pushed her plate away. She suddenly lost her appetite but she decided to look at the two men. “You know you can always come to us if you need something” “You don’t need to worry about me, Jade. I’ll get it all together” Jade stood up and gave Dame another hug before going upstairs to check on the kids.

Jade sat on the edge of the bed biting her thumb, she couldn’t sleep. She was on edge, her heart ridden with guilt. The door creaked open and she turned her head, Adonis stood in the doorway. “Hey,” He came over and sat beside her, leaning his head on her shoulder. “God I feel so horrible” She mutters quietly. “I stopped writing him a few years ago around the time me and you were getting together, I just couldn’t-“ “Hey, Hey” He grabbed her shoulders, making Jade look at him.

“It’s not your fault…You did more than me” Adonis kissed her forehead. “I never even got any of his letters.” Jade took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright…What did you promise him?” Adonis rubbed the back of his head. “Dame wants a shot in the world league to get the belt” “What?” Jade said astonishingly. “We’re getting old, even you are retired! Dame wouldn’t even have a shot against half those young guys now” “Way to have faith in him” Adonis chuckled. “Faith? I’m being real.” “The man said he kept himself in shape, so we can see”

Jade fell backward on their bed, sighing. “Just…Don’t do anything you’ll regret. You…We don’t owe him that much just because we knew him” Adonis stared at his wife as she pulled the blanket on herself. “At least, that’s what I’m trying to tell myself. I’m gonna come by the gym tomorrow to see so myself” Adonis kissed her forehead, stroking her face. “It’s going to be okay…I’m going to check on the kids” Jade snuggled deeper into the blanket. “Mhm…Okay”

Jade tried to fall into a deep sleep, but her thoughts couldn’t help but linger on her old friend. I don't owe him anything, she tried to convince herself. He made that decision by himself, she reminded. But god, it didn’t help her from feeling less bad.

#black oc #black writer #creed #creed iii #adonis creed #michael b jordan #jonathan majors #dame creed iii #self insert #black characters #x black oc #adonis creed x reader #old friends #black girl oc

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hobie-enthusiast · 10 months

Note

Can I request a hobie x male reader where hobie first notices the reader when he's performing on stage with his band? Hobie thinks his voice is sooo good and is soo hot so he talks to him after the show? Thanks!!

CAUGHT IN A DAZE !

— hobie brown x singer!masc!reader

— fluff, flirting and banter, singer reader, petnames (sweetheart, darling, pretty boy), hobie is shamelessly flirting, pubs and concerts, light cursing (shit like once), hobie calls the reader ‘smokin’, hobie’s bandmates are menaces

— hobie brown can tell when people have talent, so maybe that’s why he felt the need to find you after your show

— woohoo more male reader im so thankful. also so sorry for how long this took to come out life has been a little rough lately lol

Hobie and his bandmates decided to have a night of pub hopping to look for a new venue. Somewhere free, where they can entertain without worrying about the place being crashed with police and such. They just wanted to play some music.

The last pub they stopped to was a hole-in-the-wall, like most of their locations. A band was already playing tonight, and the energy was seemingly high amoung the patrons. Lights flashed between blue and purple, making the place seem cooler than it was.

“Gonna go find th’ owner!” One of Hobie’s mates shouted over the volume.

Hobie nodded as he was left with his drummer, giving him time to actually analyze the band playing. The music was catchy, similar to what Hobie plays and listens to. The drummer and bassist are smiling and laughing, enjoying themselves and the energy.

Then his eyes land on the singer.

Onstage, you were pouring your heart out. Even for such a dingy place. You were passionate in your singing, giving the crowd your bands best. Your voice was something that easily captivated Hobie. Each word you sung was tugging at his brain, almost as his heart, pulling him in every-time. The way you smiled and smirked, enjoying your little fame with your band, was something he admired.

As the song finished, Hobie gave his own applause. He was seemingly clapping the loudest, causing you to glance at him with a small bit of confusion. Then you smirk, throwing a wink his way with it.

That. Damn. Smirk.

You had Hobie captivated and didn’t even know it.

“Thank you everyone for comin’ out tonight!” You announce, prompting yet another round of applause. “We got one more song for the night. We’ll be back next week!”

With those words, you signal the start of the next song. The crowd seemingly goes crazy, already knowing what you were bound to play. It was a classic closer.

As the song continued, Hobie was seemingly in a daze. One that his bandmate noticed.

“Yo, mate, you good?” He questions, causing Hobie to snap out of it.

“‘s all good. They’re bloody good, ‘ll give ‘em that.”

The other nods “Yeah, ‘specially that singer. I think he was lookin’ at ya, mate.”

Though Hobie waved his friend off, he knew it was true. You looked right at him. You even winked. He had to tell you how good you sounded. How amazing your voice was. How much he enjoyed himself.

This was out of character for him. Of course, Hobie could admit when he sees talent. He can acknowledge it whenever it crosses his eyes. But he doesn’t ever let other bands know he admired them, much less individuals.

The song soon ended, and your band exited the stage to grab some water. You high-fived the others, congratulating everyone on such a good show. Spirits were high, and you couldn’t be more proud.

“Aye, good job [Name]! Want somethin’ to eat?”

“Just grab whatever. I’m gonna head to the dressing room.”

Your bandmates went to grab some food while you headed the opposite way. You were humming a song to yourself, turning the corner. Then, you hit someone, knocking into a seemingly strong body.

“Ah.. shit, I’m sorry.” You groan, rubbing your arm.

Well Hobie certainly didn’t think it would be this easy to find you. “‘s alright, swee’heart. Was my bad.”

Glancing up, you come face to face with a really gorgeous guy. He had decorated piercings all over his face, seemingly cool hair, and just such a laid-back aura about him. He was just so easy to stare at.

Then you remember this guy. He was the one you threw a wink at. The one who clapped louder than most for your band’s set. The one who stared at you almost the whole time he watched. He was a fan, if anything, you were confident in your thought.

“Hey, I know you. You were in the crowd tonight.” You point out with a small smile. “Enjoy the show?”

Hobie muses. “Yeah, was pre’ty impressed. You’ve got a killer voice, mate.”

Your face goes red at the compliment. This seemingly effortlessly cool guy was complimenting your voice. The voice you just sung and put out to a small crowd in a tiny pub. That he also happened to have been in.

“That means a lot! I’m glad you enjoyed!”

Hobie shrugged, leaning against the wall. “You’ve got a killer ons’age presence too. And you’re insanely smokin’, s’ you’re pre’ty set, mate.”

Oh!

Oh.

“That’s a pretty bold statement from a fan. But I enjoyed it.” You respond, smiling as you shrugged. “Just a guy trying to entertain the masses.”

You had to admit, Hobie knew how to get what he wanted. He said what was on his mind, despite only talking to you for about a minute or two. It was incredibly charming. You’ve had plenty of pushy fans try to get your attention in the worst ways. But Hobie was way different. He talked to you so casually, as if chatting with an old friend.

Hobie smirks as he chuckles. “I know how t’ make a pre’ty boy feel good ‘bout himself.” He says, his eyes watching the way you stand and listen to him.

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a napkin and pen. He writes something against the wall, causing you to crane your neck to try and see. But he finishes before you can, placing the napkin in your hand with a wink.

Then he walks off, with no more words.

You glance down at the napkin and a small smile plays at your lips. It has an address, phone number, and date on it, with a message at the bottom, written in a mixture of uppercase and lowercase letters;

‘bands playing here. come by. text me your next show date. - hobie’

So his name was Hobie.. you liked that name. It seemingly matched the guy you saw, the one who spoke so flawlessly and cooly, the one who seemingly made you almost breathless just by his presence. You definitely had to go to this concert. Had to see him in his own band. It was definitely going to be a sight to see.

You fold the napkin and slid it in your pocket, heading back to your band. While sitting there, you shot the number a text, saving it as well, wanting to inform Hobie of your intentions.

Me (12:32 AM):

thxs for the invite

ill see ya then

Hobie (12:33 AM):

that was quick

never caught ur name darlin

Me (12:33 AM):

its [Name]

Hobie (12:34 AM):

suiting

ill see ya, sweetheart

To say Hobie’s messages didn’t have your stomach doing some flips would be a lie. You were excited to get to know this guy, the mysterious pierced guy who thought you were good looking.

Hobie also had a smile tug at his lips after messaging you back. His band took notice, nudging him.

“Get that singer’s number, aye? Ya already look lovesick!”

Hobie rolled his eyes. “What of it?” Was all he said.

Yet even though both of you spent the night with your respective friends and bands, you couldn’t help but have thoughts of each other, awaiting the next faithful day you will meet.

#NEW ARTICLE || OUT NOW !!#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv hobie

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oliviawebsite · 4 months

Text

therapist who plugs their 4 podcasts at the end of each session. they also have a new book comin out and tour dates willl be announced soon

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obsidiancreates · 5 months

Text

The Second Chance Of The Third Age (Part 4)

“Right, before we head out, one thing.” Bilbo kisses Thorin as they both wake before the sun even rises. “I’ve got some letters to write, and a statement to make down at the market.”

“Indeed?”

“I’m putting Frodo and Sam’s fathers in charge of Bag End while I’m gone- hopefully it means Frodo and Sam will still grow up together, without Drogo and Primula dying and me adopting him.”

Thorin looks more than a little lost, but he nods. He gives Bilbo another kiss and Bilbo goes to his study to begin writing letters.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“AHEM!” Bilbo stands on a picnic table set out in the middle of the market, Gandalf and Thorin standing nearby and the rest of The Company (poorly) hiding nearby to watch the spectacle.

All eyes in the market turn with no small amount of shock as Bilbo Baggins, an altogether respectable if not slightly odd Hobbit, demands their attentions.

“I just wanted to announce, in case this takes quite a long time-” as he knows it will, “-that I’m going, on a very long holiday!” He gestures at Gandalf, who is still taller than him even as Bilbo stands on the table, and then he gestures at Thorin. “As you can see, Gandalf, the old friend of my family, has come by with an offer on behalf of this here very fine dwarven gentleman, and I’ll be traveling with them for the foreseeable future.”

The murmuring among the market is equal parts horrified and intrigued, and the undercurrent of it all is confusion.

“I’m announcing this because I’m leaving the care and ownership of Bag End to Hamfast Gamgee and my cousin, Drogo, while I’m away!” Bilbo looks across the market and levels a gaudily dressed and dark-haired Hobbit lass with a glare that could kill a dragon. “And if I return to hear anyone has been harassing them or kicking up a fuss about ‘proper ownership’, I’ll handle it personally.”

Lobelia, all the way across the market, returns Bilbo’s glare with one of equal venom and fire. Bilbo ignores it, and promptly hops down from the table.

The first to approach him, somewhat hesitantly, is Mr. Worrywart. “So ah, Mr. Bilbo… what brought this on, then?”

“Suppose I’m finally taking after my mother’s side,” Bilbo says, brushing off his coat.

“Suppose you are… has it got uh, anythin’ t’ do with that there wizard?” Worrywart whispers the last part.

Bilbo leans in and whispers back, “Oh, completely. He’s cast a spell of ‘Bring Out The Tookishness’ on me.” He straightens up as Mr. Worrywart lets out a soft, half-believing laugh.

As soon as Bilbo turns to leave, Thorin and Gandalf with him, the market becomes positively abuzz with gossip. Gandalf sweeping away strange little Mr. Baggins? On an adventure with dwarves?! And look at that, why there were a dozen more hiding in the reeds by the little river! And is that dwarf there holding Mr. Baggins’s hand?! What a scandal, what an uproar, that Gandalf is quite the disturber of the peace is he not? Who’s to say Mr. Baggins will return at all!

Bilbo has a self-satisfied smile and a pep to his step as they head back up the hill to finish grabbing their belongings and get going.

“Was tha’ worth it?” Bofur asks, glancing back at the market and all the looks still being shot the group’s way. “You’re still comin’ back, if it’s like last time.”

“Oh, I fully intend on living in Erebor with Thorin,” Bilbo says without even a shred of uncertainty. “I’ll move back only if Drogo and Primula pass on again, and with any luck it won’t happen with the destruction of The Ring so early on.”

“Why would that matter to their deaths?” Dori looks a little nervously at Bilbo.

“Gandalf told us more than once that none of it was chance- I was meant to find The Ring, and Frodo was meant to destroy it. It would only go to him if he was my heir, and he was my heir because Drogo and Primula died and I took the boy in. Ring gone, no need for Frodo to carry it, no need for Drogo and Primula to die.” Bilbo nods to himself.

“We are meddling with fate in ways we cannot begin to comprehend, then.” Gandalf rubs his forehead.

“Unless the Valar sent us all back.”

“Which we cannot confirm!”

“We also can’t deny it.”

“Don’t waste all your riddles on our wizard,” Bofur pipes up. “You’ve still got a… whatever tha’ Gollum thing is, and a dragon to grapple with!”

Bilbo’s expression grows dark. “... He used to be a Hobbit.”

The silence that envelops The Company is a dark one, and it continues as they gather their things. None are willing to break it for a long while.

It’s as though the single statement solidifies their situation more than any said before.

He used to be a Hobbit.

Used to be. The look in Bilbo’s eyes… there’s more to be said, and terrible things flit through the minds of each member of The Company. Not just for what may happen to Bilbo, should they fail, nor for what may happen to them as individuals.

A quest to reclaim a mountain from a dragon, numbering just 15 at the best of times, was already foolhardy enough. And now, their quest encompasses so much that it may as well be boiled down to ‘rid Middle-Earth of all evil entirely’ and be accurate enough to stand. And to make it happen, one within their party must carry the most foul, wicked, terrible item to ever be created…

“... Did you know,” Balin says suddenly, after a long silence that extended even to getting onto the ponies, “The dwarves were gifted Ring of Power in the bygone ages.”

Bilbo looks up at Balin. “They were?”

Balin nods. “Aye, and our kings held the last for many years. Until it vanished, with King Thrain. And do ye know how many of those Dwarf Lords served the enemy, Bilbo?”

Bilbo shakes his head.

Balin smiles, tight but true. “None. Men fell, and Elves fought, but Dwarves stayed true. Some stories do suggest the Rings were responsible for gold sickness, but never, never, did they claim our hearts to service of Sauron.”

Dwalin nods, catching onto the purpose of the story. “Aye, laddie. The hearts of Dwarves are hard to sway.”

“And our loyalties, even harder. As you know too well,” Balin says with an apologetic look. “What I mean t’ say is, you don’t need to carry the burden of that Ring alone. I know we already swore to accompany you, watch you, but if it came to it we would carry you through the terrible gates with our own hands.”

Carry him.

Frodo had spoke, many times, of Sam’s bravery on the final slopes of Mount Doom. Had sung praises, wept in grateful fits, whispered in bouts of unending guilt, of Sam picking him up and carrying him into the heart of that terrible place.

Starving, wounded, endlessly hopeful Sam. And Frodo had never stopped his emphasizing that Sam was the true reason The Ring was destroyed- and Sam had never stopped arguing that Frodo was. Back and forth they would go, Sam insisting it was Frodo who truly overcame because of just how long he was tormented and tempted, Frodo insisting it was Sam for never being tempted once and never allowing Frodo to fall to The Ring’s power. And in truth, they were both right-

Both true heroes.

The Ring is not a burden that can be carried alone- he recalls Lady Galadriel, speaking with Frodo on the boat to Valinor, of his experiences. How Frodo had whispered to her, to not let the others with them hear.

“Forgive me, Lady Galadriel… but I’m afraid you were wrong about one thing.”

“What was I wrong about, Frodo Baggins?”

“To bear a ring is not to be alone. Not as much as it may wish you to believe so.”

He remembers Frodo looking back to the shores where Sam stood then.

Bilbo is jarred from the memories by Thorin handing something to him. Small, white, with blue thread framing the edges and a little BB stitched into the lower corner.

He laughs a wavering, tearful laugh. “My handkerchief.”

Thorin nods, a smile ghosting his lips. “You forgot it again.”

Bilbo laughs again, louder, and the rest of his dearest friends join him, soon filling the quiet Shire road with merriment.

#the hobbit #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic #bagginshield #bilbo baggins #time travel fix it

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jungle-angel · 2 months

Text

The One Where They Go To Florida: Part 5 (Frat!Rhett x Reader)

Summary: There are just some things you never wanna do with a grapefruit......or do you??

Warnings: References to smut, obscene acts with a grapefruit etc.

Tagging: @callmemana @floydsmuse @attapullman

Rhett stumbled down the stairs of the beach house, hungover as hell as the bright Florida sunshine spilled through the windows. The first rager of spring break was already over but that didn't mean the hangovers weren't.

He stumbled into the kitchen to find you, Cairo and a few of the girls making your famous hangover breakfasts, the heady aroma of Dunkin Donuts coffee filling the kitchen along with bacon, eggs, sausages, cheese, pancakes and toast.

"Mornin cowboy," you chirped, handing him a fresh coffee.

"Mornin baby," Rhett croaked, kissing your cheek. "Any of them other idiots comin down?"

"Foster was the only one up, he's out fixing Kelso's little mailbox fiasco," Cairo told him, plating a pair of freshly made sunny-side-up eggs.

"Who grilled the steaks?"

"Sammy did," you answered. "Guy's a natural. He said he learned it from watchin his grandpa work the hibachi in his restaurant."

Cairo turned up the volume just a little, mumbling along to Shania Twain's "Man, I feel like a woman" as you cooked away in the kitchen. Pretty soon more of the idiots came stumbling out of their hiding places to come and eat.

"I've gotta close the screen and it's gon' sound like a gunshot," Bo announced.

"C'mon man not so loud," Woody Williamson told him, burying his face in his hands once Bo shut the door.

"I made Bloody Marys ya'll!" Cairo happily announced.

"You kiddin?" Harry Reagan said to him, his full Boston starting to show as he pushed his floppy blonde hair out of his face. "I've got an ungodly hangovuh and the last thing I wanna do is fuckin drink."

"Oh please, Harry," Cairo retorted. "My Nan used to make these all the time when my family would party. So drink up honeys, ya'll are gonna need it."

Everybody dug into their breakfasts, letting it soak up all the alcohol from the night before. Yet poor Oliver Scott seemed to have been the only one who hadn't had any real or exciting escapades to tell from the night before.

"Olivuh I'm shore it's not a big deal," Harry told him with a mouthful of half-chewed toast. "Everybody's first time sucks."

"Yeah man I didn't make it with a girl till I was a sophomore," Woody told him.

"I don't get it though," Oliver mused. "I don't know if it was just me or the booze but I just couldn't do it."

"Maybe she wasn't as much of a babe in the sack as ya'll thought she was," Rhett theorized.

"Maybe she was a prude," Sammy Inoue thought out loud as he buttered his toast with the runny egg yolk.

"I dunno," Oliver sighed. "Maybe I missed something in the sex manual."

"Did you study the chapter on Grapefruiting?" Cairo asked, seating himself next to Foster with a mimosa in his hand.

The table was dead silent, everyone scrunching their eyebrows together as they turned to Cairo. "Pahdon my ignorance, but what in the fuck is grapefruiting?" Harry asked him.

"Oh my gosh you don't know?" Cairo questioned, his jaw dropping with bemusement. "Oooh ok, lemme give ya'll a little sex ed lesson. Everybody pay attention because this will be on the test later, yes? Ok."

Everyone, yourself included listened with intent as Cairo took a grapefruit and a banana from the center of the table and the knife near his plate.

"Ok so what you do," he explained, cutting the ends off the grapefruit. "Is you take the grapefruit, cut off the ends like so.......and then, you fit it around the penis so that it's comfortable. Make sure you're hard, not limp, obviously....."

Everyone was trying with all their willpower not to laugh, hiding their mouths behind their hands or biting their lips as Cairo began fitting the grapefruit around the banana.

"Just as a word of warning though," he continued. "Be really, really careful because there is a chance you could get the juice in the urethra and believe me, it's like peeing fire. So anywho.......once comfortably fitted, your partner can start goin to town on it, like so....."

Jaws hit the floor as soon as Cairo began going to town on it. Sure many of the boys had seen very well done oral sex acts, but nothing compared to seeing it from Cairo himself.

"You also wanna push your partner's head in just a little," Cairo explained once he quickly released the banana from his mouth. "If they make some coughing and gagging noises, it means you're doing something right....."

He kept at it, the other Delta Taus and their girls trying to keep straight faces and failing miserably. Finally, Cairo was done, much to their relief.

"Now remember guys," he informed them. "You never......NEVER......wanna try this with a pineapple."

A few of the guys busted out laughing but Cairo was more than pleased with himself.

"How much ya'll wanna bet that Kelso fucks this up later?" Rhett asked Kayce.

"I'm not bettin anything bro," Kayce chuckled. "I had to spend my last twenty bucks at the corner store getting a keg the other day."

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #frat!rhett #frat!rhett abbott #frat!rhett abbott x reader #outer range

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archieimagines · 2 years

Photo

Imagine going to the beach with Owen Grady.

yes, jay has a rocket up her ass this week. we love to see it! requested by: anon. three requests rolled into one! warnings: beach-related half nudity! written by: jay

Summer at Jurassic World had been busy -unexpectedly busy- so staff had been run off their feet since the hordes of school children and families flocked to the park at the beginning of August. Restaurant staff were exhausted, trainers overworked and everyone was overdue a day off before the summer nights dimmed and fall rolled in, time to relax and enjoy the sights Isla Nublar had to offer away from the hustle and bustle of the park. Bosses soon realised that staff did need a day off if their businesses were to run smoothly and, by some miracle, you were granted two whole days off in the last week of August.

Once you’d closed up the restaurant for the last time before a well-earned break, you headed back to your bunglow on the outskirts of the island and prepared for two days of doing absolutely nothing; Finally you could just enjoy the hot sun, blue skies and the peace that the island provided away from the park.

“We’re going the beach,” Owen announced as he walked into your bedroom the following morning.

“The beach?”

“Yeah. The beach.” Owen repeated, his signature smirk etched onto his face as he pulled open your curtains, sunlight flooding in.

“Y’know. The sun, the sea… Hot girls in bikinis…”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, pulling the duvet up over your head.

“Hey, I’m kidding!” He laughed. “Not about the sun and sea but the other part.”

“I wanted to do nothing. Not go out and see people, of all creatures.”

“Aw, c’mon,” he pouted, jumping on the end of your bed. With a pillow in hand he began smacking you under the duvet, laughing to himself.

“Okay, okay!” You kicked off the duvet and glared at him, arms folded across your chest. “You’re an idiot.”

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes, we can go to the beach.”

A while later, you were sat in the passenger side of Owen’s jeep with the picnic packed, music blaring and ready to enjoy what summer had to offer. You had been driving for god knows how long to seemingly nowhere when Owen started to slow down.

“Did you actually pack a swimsuit?” He questioned, eyeing your outfit as he pulled onto the side of the road.

“Maybe,” you mumbled, not really paying attention to what he was asking.

“Where are we?”

“The beach!”

You looked around. Grass… Trees. Nothing but green. “Uh Owen, I don't see a beach… Or another human being, for that matter.”

“Well,” he hopped out and swung the bag onto his back. “You said you didn't want to see people, so you don't have to.”

“I think you've caught too much sun. There is no beach anywhere!” you followed him around the jeep, shaking your head when he started piling dinosaur shaped floaties into your arms. “What the-”

“Zip! No more talking.”

“Bu-��

“Shhh!” He held his finger up to your lips, locked the doors to his jeep and started off down a trail through the foliage. You stared after him, eyebrows raised.

Where the hell was he going?

“You comin’ or what?”

When you finally managed to catch up to him, barely managing to stay upright with the floaties blocking for you vision, the beach finally came into view. It was beautiful, clean white sand and shimmering blue as far as you could see.

“Owen..” you gasped “How did you find this place?”

He shrugged and set down the picnic blanket and basket before taking the items in your arms. “Let’s just say I scouted the place out a couple weeks ago for…” He winked. “Reasons.”

Once everything was laid out, drinks, food, towels and even an umbrella, you were beginning to finally unwind, the knots in your shoulders already beginning to loosen; Maybe the sun and salty sea air were actually just the thing you needed.

“Hey! You comin’?”

Owen’s voice pulled you from your daze, your face flushed when you realised that he was already topless and waist deep in the ocean.

“Um…” Whatever words you had suddenly died in your throat. He looked like he’d walked straight out of a movie, muscles rippling and glistening under the summer sun.

“Like what you see?” You could practically feel the smirk on his face and you could feel yourself blush.

You hated that he had such an effect on you, it didn’t matter how hard you tried. You couldn’t help but fall for him. With a sigh you stood up, pulled off your clothes and revealed the spotted bikini you had on underneath. You could tell that Owen was watching your every move, like he was entranced; It made you nervous.

By the time you reached the shoreline it was as though you could barely breathe, you almost chickened out and ran back up the beach. You hadn’t noticed that Owen had waded into the shallows but it was as though he had read your mind. His hand snaked around your waist and he practically carried you further into the water. Whilst your feet could comfortably touch the bottom his other arm found its way around you and held you firmly against his chest. His touch was electric, sending shockwaves through you, you were so close you could feel his breath against your nose - you didn’t dare look him in the eye.

“You never answered me.” His voice was barely above a whisper, as if saying it any louder would shatter the moment into tiny pieces.

“What?”

“Do you like what you see?” Any ounce of smugness had evaporated, it was like he was afraid of the answer he’d get. “Because... I like what I see.”

Your breath truly caught in your throat and your ability to speak vanished, was this really happening?

“Hey.” His hand came to your chin, tilting your face so that you were looking at him.

Yes, this was really happening.

Before you could back out, you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought your lips to his in a short but breathtaking kiss.

“Does that answer your question?”

#owen grady imagine #owen grady x reader #jurassic world imagine #jurassic park imagine #owen grady #jurassic world #jurassic park #chris pratt #chris pratt imagine #chris pratt x reader #written by jay

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lavvythejackalope · 3 months

Text

Megamind Commentary

The announcement of the new Megamind sequel got me thinking again about one of my favorite superhero trope movies. The sequel itself looks like trash, which is very tragic, but not really what I'm on about at this moment.

I love Megamind, I love a lot of things about it. But what's interesting to me is Tighten as a 'Twist Villain.' I've seen commentaries about what a surprise it was that Hal became the primary antagonist of the film... pretty strictly from amab creators. I wondered if it was really that surprising, however, to afab viewers like myself. I'm not the type to pick up on story beats quickly. I usually need a couple watches to really fully comprehend the intentions in a film.

I never thought Hal was going to be anything but trouble. As soon as he got Metromans powers I knew it was only a matter of time. To me, who, again, tends to be slow on the uptake, this was not a twist. It was an inevitability. And I guess this leads me to wonder if other afab people also got that impression right off the bat?

I have no doubt that MANY, if not most, afab people recognized the warning signs from the very first scene that Hal appears in. Hell, the very first lines we get from his character display two things,

A) He doesn't ACTUALLY like Roxanne. She finishes reading the lines that SHE WROTE for the Metroman celebration, her earnest true feelings on the matter, and Hal immediately derides it.

B) That is UNTIL Roxy corrects him that no, SHE wrote that, and he immediately backpedals, displaying how disingenuous he is.

That is literally the very first thing we see of him. I think anyone who has had to live for a week in our society as a person perceived to be femme would recognize Hal as a dangerous type of person from this interaction alone. But maybe I'm wrong? I'm just shocked at how many people seemed to be very genuinely surprised that Hal turned out to be the real villain. Was it clear to anyone else that he was a bad egg from the get go?? Or am I just outta my head? I'd actually really love to hear some other perspectives on this.

Anyhow thank you for comin to my TED talk.

#megamind #i have feelings about this movie #many feelings #mostly positive #some confused #lavvyjack rambles

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boygiwrites · 9 months

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Harley D. Dixon 17

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Author's Note. I'm so sorry for not updating for so long!! 😣 Please enjoy!

Warning for mentions of suicide in this chapter.

"You promised me we were safe here."

Rick's raisin' his voice again. That's how I know things are bad.

"You promised me our children were safe here. Our son. Daryl's daughter. Where are these walkers comin' from?"

My Dad drags me up the porch steps, his boots going stomp, stomp, stomp against the planks as he beelines for the back door.

Dale hurries after us, hissing under his breath that we can't go confronting 'em on this, not right now, but my Dad don't listen to him.

"My girl almost got ate just now." He scolds Dale, before shoving past the rickety door. "These people gon' answer for it."

Another haven ruined. Seems everywhere we go, there's one more disaster waiting to sink its teeth into us, and here it is again. Thinking we're safe and knowing we ain't is a cycle I'm coming to live with. I'm not sure there's anywhere left in the world for me to feel safe, except maybe in my Dad's arms, but even those are bloodied. As we enter the house, the argument ricochets loudly from down the hall. There's Rick, standing next to Shane as he groans and grunts under the point of a suture needle, brows taut; knuckles white. Patricia and Jacqui, fussing over him with cotton pads and disinfectant. Herschel, frowning hard. And blood. Always, always blood.

"I am sorry," Herschel booms, "That this has happened, but as I've said from the very beginning, this is my property. My home."

There are aspects to this that I can't and won't discuss.

Aspects, meaning dead people in the barn. Dead, and rotten, and not-themselves people. I can't understand why they'd do such a thing.

"Daddy, why're they keepin' those people in the barn?" Nervously chewing on my thumb, I try to keep up with my Dad as he storms toward the crowded dining room, but his strides are real angry-like, and I can't hardly keep up. Keepin' dead people in a barn, li— like pets. "Why?"

"We're gonna find out."

"And these are my people." Rick's volume startles even Lori. "I'm responsible for their safety. I'm the one who trusted your word on this."

"What about your word, Rick? That your group would abide by my rules? There was almost a murder here tonight."

"I swear on everything, I had no intentions of that happenin'."

I hate shouting. Boy, do I hate, hate, hate shouting.

"Hey, Greene." As soon as we pass through the archway, my Dad interrupts everyone. "You got sum' you might wanna tell us 'boutcher barn?"

All heads snap in our direction.

"I think you've done enough for tonight, young man." Herschel warns. "All of you... have done more than enough."

But Rick wants to hear what he has to say. "Hang on. Whatchu sayin', Daryl?"

"You wanna know where all these walkers been comin' from, right?" He announces to the room, "Well, they're keeping 'em in the barn."

Shock runs through our group.

Lori exclaims, "What?"

Herschel's gaze falls to the floor, as if ashamed, or angry, or maybe even both. It's usually both.

"There's a break in the side panelling. We found it just now. They been sneakin' out; fallin' into wells," He gestures to me passionately, "And tearin' up kids. We're sleepin' next to a damn horror house and we ain't even realize it, 'cause these people ain't said a damn word about it."

"You were only supposed to be here a few days." Maggie gets defensive. "We don't owe you an explanation for anythin'."

He scoffs, "And what if Harley got bit just now? 'Cause'a your lil' walker friends? Would you owe me one then?"

Dale takes a step forward, hands placatingly held up in front of him. "Hey, now. I'm sure you've had your reasons for keeping this a secret, and I didn't want to say anything, but... truthfully, this is something that concerns us, whether this is our property or not. We have children with us."

"You're right, it's not your property." I can see Herschel's scowl even under all his moustache hair. "And it's not your decision, either."

Dad raises his brows. "To keep a bunch of feral animals near yer house?"

"They are not feral animals." Slam! His hand comes down on the table, making me jump. "My wife and stepson are in there. They are people!"

I've never seen Herschel this upset before. I didn't even know he could get upset.

"People?" Shane bares his blood-smeared teeth. "You think those crazy things out there are people?"

"A paranoid schizophrenic is crazy, but we don't shoot sick people." Herschel insists. "We help them. We rehabilitate them."

He shakes his head. "This ain't right. This ain't even remotely right."

There's a heavy pause.

I know walkers ain't sick, 'cause I seen 'em come back, again and again, with no heart, one lung, half a head, a missing leg, jaw, eye, spine.

I know that dead means dead.

But Herschel thinks he can treat them, like someone with a cold.

"With all due respect," Dale sighs, approaching this topic with caution. "You're cut off from the outside world here. If you watched the same broadcasts we did... If you saw the things we've seen—" Amy, dead. Morales, dead. Blood, and bullets, and a bite mark on a friend's arm, followed by a bang on a warm afternoon. Destruction, over and over. "—Your opinion would change. Those things out there, they kill."

"Hell, look what just happened." Shane butts in. "They almost tore into a little girl; would'a chewed her to the bone. That ain't sick, that's feral."

Patricia frowns, "Watch your tone."

"You're talking about this like your safety is at jeopardy, here, but you're free to leave at any time." Herschel raises his head, and I can tell just by the look on his face that he's an old dog that refuses to learn a new trick, and that makes me worry. "In fact, I think it's best you do."

Oh, no. He don't mean that, do he?

"We're not leaving." Rick suddenly intervenes, expression hard as stone. "That's not possible."

"You told me to reconsider. This is me doing exactly that." He purses his thin lips, and spits, "You are no longer welcome on my farm."

Oh. He does.

Dad's hand tightens around mine.

His words are like a hard punch to the guts for all of us.

"Everything that's happened tonight has only reminded me why I was so hesitant to let you stay in the first place. A knife was pulled; a man almost killed. It's clear your group has issues I don't want my family to suffer the consequences of. So you either all leave at first light, or you choose one of these two men to leave on their own, instead, and hope nothing like this happens again. Either way, I want a decision made right now."

An ultimatum. That's when people threaten each other but nobody can't do nothin' about it.

When I look at Rick, his mouth is open as if to speak, but there's nothin' he can say to justify tonight, so he shuts it with a stressed sigh.

Leave? Tomorrow? No, no, no. I don't want this. We need to stay. We need to find Sophia. I don't want to give up jam and eggs and soft, linen blankets, or the swing hanging from the old oak tree, or how it's so quiet out here that you can hear the sound of crickets chirping in the grass. If this were a couple months ago, Dad might've just volunteered to be the one to leave, but things have changed. These people are our people, now.

If I had to choose between everyone leaving, Dad and me leaving, and Shane leaving, I know who I'd pick.

I picked days ago.

"We can't all leave." Carol distresses, fiddling with her necklace. "We can't. My daughter is still out there."

"That's why we're gonna have to think about this." Rick explains, eyes locked with Shane. He's picked, too. "Something has to be done."

More glances thrown around; more worrying.

It's either Dad or Shane, then. It's always either Dad or Shane.

"We decide together on this." Dale assures everyone, glancing at Rick, who we all know will get final say. "This is a democracy, here."

I don't know what a duh-maw-crah-see is, but I do know that it won't save us from the terrible argument that's about to happen.

"You wanna kick anybody out, make it Daryl." Shane nods in our direction, nostrils flared angrily like a bull that's seeing red. "He's the one that pulled that knife on me, not even one day after gettin' back on his feet. We all saw it. He can't help himself. He's an animal, and a threat."

"I go, Harley goes wit' me." Dad retorts. "You wanna send a kid to her death just 'cause you ain't right in the head?"

He shrugs, "Maybe she'll just have to stay here, then."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"That's out of the question." Rick shuts down the idea. "Harley and Daryl, they stay together. They're family. We need to think rationally about this."

"If 'rational' means throwin' me out instead'a Daryl, then I don't accept that."

Rick's frustration starts to show again. "It doesn't matter what you accept, Shane. This is what's best for the group. The greater good. They taught us that in training, day one. You know that. Save as many people as possible with as little casualties as possible. That's my rationality."

"That's all I am to you? A casualty?"

"If it's between kicking a father and his child to the curb, and you, after what you've done," Rick says, "Then I think you know the answer."

What you've done.

"This is nuts." He chuckles emptily. "I didn't do anythin'. I was attacked. I got two, four, six witnesses here that'll tell you the same thing."

Rick gives him a look similar to watching a baby bird try to fly with a broken wing, and says plainly, "I'm not talking about tonight, Shane."

He's talking about shooting Dad.

This is it. We're kicking Shane out. We're really doing it.

"You need to re-think this." Shane flat-out refuses. "'Cause I know for a fact, Rick, you ain't as dumb as all that. You wanna kick out your best friend of fifteen years, the man — the brother — who's stood by your side since the day we met, over this— this goddamn redneck piece o—"

"Watcher mouth!" Dad barks.

"Piece of shit?" He doubles down, a cornered, angry dog. "Him? Look at my shoulder and tell me that's a good idea! You tell me!"

"Look at his stomach!" Glenn retorts incredulously, his voice shrill as he points across the room at Dad. "You shot him!"

Lori startles, pulling Carl's head into her chest, covering his ears.

Shane roars, "And you think I did that for no reason, huh? Think I'm just some kinda psycho?"

Maggie chides, "Lower your voice!"

"We don't shoot one of our own!"

"For Christ's sake—"

I can tell in this next moment that everything is about to come apart. I wanna stop it, but I can't.

"He beats her, people!" There it is. Oh, God. Shane shoots up from his chair; grabs the edge of the table, shakes it a little, making the dishes rattle. Small gasps fill the room. Glances cut the air. I take a step back, a step behind my Dad, 'cause the only person I'm afraid of right now is Shane. "I saw it. Back at the CDC, night things went to Hell. Y'all wanna act like I'm the problem, do you? He's standin' right there! Right in front'a y'all!"

All I can think about as I watch the vein in Shane's neck pulse angrily is that I don't recognise this man at all.

"I shot him! And you know what? I say that with pride!" He tells everyone, unashamed, standing tall, outta his mind. "'Cause I did somethin'!"

What would happen if you told me the whole secret?

Something even worse would happen.

"I bet your brother was doin' the same thing, weren't he, Daryl?" Shane snides, before he scoffs. "Birds of a feather."

I watch in real time as the faces of our friends morph from shocked to confused to betrayed, until the whole room feels like an open bear trap.

Rick pins Dad with a— with a look. I ain't never seen a look like that. It's the strangest look in the world, like he wants to speak, but can't; won't.

Glenn stands there, his jaw slack; a kicked puppy dog.

I know Dad prolly wants to bolt. He prolly feels like he's been flayed open. It's none'a your business. I've heard that throughout my whole life, directed at concerned people at parks, teachers, neighbours, even Moms in the grocery store, whenever Merle would hit me for actin' up, or when Dad accidently chose a shirt for me that showed the bruise Grandpappy Dixon left there the night before. He prolly wants to deny it all once more, but he's stronger than that, now — stronger than Shane — so that's not what he does. Instead, he says, a little quietly, "That's not happenin', anymore. Things've changed. I've changed."

Shane finds that very funny. "Bullshit, you have. People like you Dixons never change."

People like you.

I never quite know what that means when people say that to us, but every time I hear it, I do know it's meant to hurt.

At least to Dad, I'm just me. That's all I wanna be.

He struggles to find anything to say to that, because deep down, I think he believes it. He will never be anythin' but a good for nothin' Dixon.

Just like Merle.

Just like my Grandpappy.

Just like every other piece of sorry trash that never made it out our trailer park. It took the apocalypse for us to make it out that place.

Carol braves the silence with her timid, shaking voice. "Is it true, Daryl?"

After a while, all he does is nod, 'cause what else is there?

She seems to crack at that, breaking down into little sobs that sound a hundred times louder than they really are. I think she's thinkin' of her husband. He was a little like Daddy. Sophia told me he was mean, sometimes, too, but back then I didn't know what that meant. Lori puts an arm around her shoulders, a deeply disappointed look on her face. Glenn has to sit down. Dale, he's revolted. And Rick, he just looks so, so tired.

Even though dinner was almost unbearable, and the food's gone stone cold by now, I still wish I was in that moment again.

"It wasn't Otis?" Patricia eventually utters. "He didn't shoot him?"

Oh, right. The dead man that took all the blame. I almost forgot about that.

Shane looks around the room, sees he's past the point of lying, and admits easily, "It was me." Then, he just can't help himself, 'cause he's always been that way, and he continues, "I shot Daryl, and I shot Otis, too." My stomach drops. What? He nods, feeling the way the confession sinks in like a drug. "That night at the college, I popped him in the kneecap, and I watched as the dead ones came down on him as I ran. He was holding the supplies. We brought those back, Daryl would'a had a good chance at survivin' surgery, and that wasn't an option for me. I see a threat, I eliminate it. That's the difference between me and y'all. I do what needs to be done and I don't feel a shred of guilt for it, neither, 'cause I did it for Harley. You wanna call me a murderer, that's fine with me. I know what I did. I know who I am."

He killed Otis? Watched him die? For what? For me?

I take in the appalled faces of the Greenes, like poor Maggie, eyes wide, and Herschel, being helped by Beth into his seat as he teeters lightheadedly, feeling like I somehow caused all of this. If I could go back in time, I wouldn't've said anythin' about Momma, and then I wouldn't have gotten beat, and Shane wouldn't've walked in on it or gotten mad or tried to be my friend, and Dad wouldn't be shot, and Otis would be alive.

But you can't go back in time, even if you really, really want to, because it just don't work like that.

Herschel slowly looks up at Shane, shaking with anger. "Rick, get this man off my farm at once."

It's Shane, then. That's the decision.

He tried to save me, but all he's done is doom a bunch of others, and doom himself.

He looks sidelong at his best friend of fifteen years, muttering uselessly, "Rick. You can't do this, brother."

But, yes, Rick can.

He tears his gaze away from Shane and gestures to Jacqui, ordering, "Finish sewin' him up, but nothin' more. He's gone tomorrow morning."

"Rick." He repeats desperately, brushing Jacqui off when she tries to make him sit down. "This is not the right choice."

"He gets his gun, with no bullets, and—"

"Rick."

"A small bag of provisions. That's it."

"Rick."

"He sleeps here tonight and takes his tent with him in the morning." He turns to his brother and spits, "I don't ever wanna see your face again."

I watch, my skin cold and tingling at the same time, as they stare at each other wordlessly, hostile but also hurt, knowing this is the end for them, and then I look up at my Dad. He watches on with an unreadable expression, even to me. My Dad's been found out, now, but Shane is also leaving. If this is what needed to happen for him to get kicked out, then I don't care. The greater good. Shane's leaving for the greater good.

"It doesn't have to be this way." Shane murmurs to Rick.

"I know that." He says. "But it's the way I want it."

I feel Dad stiffen as Shane turns his gaze on him.

"You don't deserve her." He chuckles defeatedly under his breath, squinting judgementally. "I'll always believe that."

Jacqui guides him back down again, and this time, he cooperates. As she pokes the needle under his skin, he looks directly at me.

If he could talk to me right now, I think he'd tell me somethin' like, I didn't want this. Because I know what he wants. He wanted Carl and Lori, and after that didn't work out, he wanted me. Only, it was impossible right from the start. My Dad would rather die than let him take me, and that's almost what happened. I look at him now and I still see the man who helped me catch that slippery frog on that sunny day, but I also see the blood. It's everywhere. His jaw, his neck, his chest, his arms, hands, thighs. Blood ruins everything. Only this time, it's his that got spilled.

He's leaving tomorrow.

I guess this is what duh-maw-crah-see means.

"We'll deal with you later." Rick utters to my Dad, before Herschel demands that everyone leave the house this instant.

This is exactly what I wanted, but for some reason, it don't feel as good as I thought it would.

Under the stars, again.

At least I'm in a change of clothes now, ones with no blood on them.

I rest in my Dad's lap in front of our crackling, burning fire, absentmindedly nibbling on my leftovers that Maggie packed into a tupperware container for me when we were forced out the house. She didn't give Dad any of his dinner, though. His plate of scrambled eggs got scraped into the trash right in front of him. He told me he didn't mind when I asked, I don't gotta give him any of mine. He ain't hungry, anyway. I believed him, and as I carried on eating, he cocked the pistol in his lap again, subtly scanning the dark skyline for any movement he ain't like the look of.

In the distance, the rest of our group starts putting out their fires and filing into their tents.

We got that barn to worry about, now.

I don't think any more walkers are gettin' out tonight, 'cause Rick and Glenn went over there about ten minutes ago and blocked the broken panel with some spare crates, but one thing my Dad's always been is prepared.

The barn's too far and too dark to see, but that somehow makes it worse. I imagine all those trapped, hungry bodies and quickly look away.

"Herschel thinks they're sick." I quietly recall, picking at my cold grilled cheese. "He wants to help 'em."

My wife and stepson are in there.

His wife and stepson are dead.

"Yeah, he does." Dad murmurs as a log in the fire crumbles. "But we know better, don't we?"

I nod. "Dead means dead."

"Dead means dead." He repeats. "So, don't go pokin' around there, again, a'right? You're smarter than that."

"I won't. S'just..."

He patiently waits for me to continue, but after I don't, he prompts, "What?"

Feeling a little silly, I admit, "I thought I saw Sophia."

He pauses at that. I stare into the grass, not wanting to meet his eyes, even as he reaches up to gently smooth out some of my fly-away hairs. Intently frowning up at me, he mutters, "Harley, I know you're worried, baby, but we're gonna find her. Girl like her can't'a gone far."

I mumble, "I guess I was just hopin' we was lucky."

"Luck don't exist." He reminds me. "Only strong people. And we're strong, ain't we?"

"Yeah." I agree, looking at him, now. "So, you think we're really gonna find her?"

He nods. "I think there's a good chance."

Content with that answer, I resume eating my food, but there's one thing I can't stop thinking about. "You think Shane's gonna die out there?"

His hand twitches around the gun. "Doesn't matter. Only thing that matters is he ain't gonna be around here, no more."

"I... I kinda hope he don't. Herschel says sick people can get better, and I think... I think Shane's like that, Dad. I think he's sick."

He frowns. "Why you think that?"

"He weren't always like this." I say, thinking back on times where he felt less like a stranger. "I'm still angry at him, but... I think I'm sad, too."

"You're allowed to feel that way." Dad reasons, holding back his own opinions, "Long as you know he deserves this, 'cause he does."

Rick and Glenn, even though they're angry with Dad right now, they were let in. My Dad accepted them, eventually, and now they get to look after me when he's busy with somethin' else, and help me out with things, kinda like my real Uncles used to do. The women, too. Lori and Jacqui and Carol, they lend me things and laugh with me like Aunties do. Shane could'a had that. But I know nothin' ever works out the way ya want it to.

I'm thinkin' about Momma again. It happens before I can even stop it. She was sick in the head, too. Kinda like Shane.

I think Dad can tell where my mind's wandered, 'cause he says to me, "Nobody can help him, Harley."

I just don't know.

Before I even realize it, my chin crumples and my lip starts wobbling. I hate thinkin' about things like this.

"C'mere." He frowns, pulling my head down under his chin. "You're too good for this bullshit. Too young. Just eatcher food, baby."

"I don't think I'm hungry anymore." I whimper, wiping my nose.

"I don't care." He picks up my grilled cheese and rips some small chunks off. "Three bites."

I hesitate. "How 'bout just one?"

"Two, then. Come on." He hands me a piece. I take it reluctantly and push it past my lips. "You don't got nothin' to worry about. That's my job."

I pretend that's true for a moment and just focus on biting and chewing and swallowing; how hard it is to mess up. As a twinkling bundle of green-yellow fireflies dance over the distant long-grass, looking like tiny stars in their own right, I hear Dad check the gun again. A heavy, metal click. Violence and peace, always there. It reminds me of a night we had in the very beginning of all this, where I was trying to go to sleep in the truck, but the sounds of the bombs hitting the city were overpowering the lullaby Dad was singing, and all I could do was force myself to get used to it.

Adapt or die. Merle said that, once.

I hate Shane. I really do. He shot my Dad. He tricked me. But he don't see it that way. Sick people never do.

After both pieces are gone, my Dad takes me to bed. He sits on the tent floor and tucks me in with a few blankets and also Matilda, and then lays down next to me to read me to sleep. I close my eyes and try to forget about everything except the sound of his quiet, raspy voice.

Even after I drift off to sleep, I still hear him checking the gun all night.

The swing. It teeters in the warm night breeze.

I don't know why I'm out here. It's late. My Dad would never let me leave camp at this hour, especially not alone. Maybe I needed to pee. I can't remember, but this is what's happening, now, I guess, so I don't try to turn back. I'm walking to the swing. Again, I don't know why. There's this feeling of confusion deep in the pits of my furthest parts that I can't quite place, but I just keep on padding through the grass, toward the tree.

Fireflies follow after me, but there's something about them that's not right. I think they're too big, but I just can't be sure.

Maybe Carl's out here. He wants to play, or something. I round the thick trunk, expecting him to be standing there, but the body I run into isn't his. It's larger, taller, and not touching the ground. I step back, dwarfed by the sheer size of the person, until I the whole picture becomes clear.

It's Shane, hanging from the tree like a boneless dummy, his neck snapped the wrong way in a knotty coil of rope.

I can't scream. I can't. There's something caught in my throat; something big, like a peach pit.

Shane's eyes snap open as I stumble onto my back, as if he doesn't know he's supposed to be dead. He looks sad, but not panicked, not like I am, and he calmly tells me, an unbothered pout on his lips, "I didn't mean it, Harley. Your Daddy, he's wrong. I'm not crazy. I swear it."

In my head, I'm screaming, but I know nobody can hear me.

That's my Momma's voice.

That's what she said to me the last time I ever saw her, in the family-court parking lot while it rained.

"I love you, Harley." Shane — but also my Momma — says. "I love you so much it's gonna kill me."

Suddenly, my Dad's gun is in his hand — W-When did that happen? — And he checks it, click, before levelling it with his temple, and—

Bang.

The gun drops into the grass.

I wake up screaming.

My sleeping bag is so tight and hot around me that my first instinct is to kick and thrash it off, a cold sweat prickled all the way down by spine. I hear the tent unzipping, and then the white, blinding sunlight comes flooding in, and my Dad is moving the blankets off me and shushing me and holding my wet face in his big hands. Momma's words echo around my skull, and so does the image of Shane's pale mouth speaking them.

"Baby. Hey, look at me." Dad orders, his concerned face blurred by my tears. "It's okay. You're okay. Look at me, Harley."

I blubber miserably, "It was Sh— Sha— Sh—"

"No. C'mon, breathe." He takes a deep, calming breath, and I find myself copying him. "There you go... and out. Again."

We do this five more times until my heartbeat slows, and I adjust to the sounds of the small birds in the trees, and the quiet of the farm.

"It was just a bad dream." Dad reassures me, using the bottom of my shirt to dry off my cheeks. "You're fine."

"I was so scared." I tell him. "Thought it was real."

Last time I had a nightmare that bad was the night I got scratched. I'd forgotten how they make your skin feel like cold rubber, and your ears ring.

"Now you know it weren't. S'just yer brain makin' stuff up." He wipes the last of my tears away. "You wanna talk about it, or forget about it?"

Shuddering, I quickly mutter, "Forget."

"Okay, then. I got breakfast cookin' out there, anyway. Rick's here, too."

Rick walked all the way over here this early in the morning?

"What? Why?"

"He just wanted to talk." Dad says, helping me stand. He gestures to my backpack before ducking out the door. "Get dressed."

Shaking off the nightmare as best I can, I dress myself in a yellow long-sleeve shirt, a white tank-top, and dirty, scuffed blue jeans before pulling on my socks and boots, grabbing Matilda, and stepping outside into the cool breeze. First thing I spot is Rick, of course, 'cause he's in me and my Daddy's camp, sitting on the log we use to chop wood. Then I smell food sizzling over the fire, and I'm enticed forward by the yummy smell.

"Mornin', Harley." Rick greets, a pair of purple-ish bags under his eyes. He chooses not to mention my nightmare, 'cause he's nice like that.

"Mornin'." I parrot, somewhat cautiously. I still can't tell if he hates us or not. Sure seemed like he did, last night.

"Here, baby." Dad scrapes the browned meat and mushrooms into a mug for me and hands me a fork. "Caught it just before. Go sit down."

I do as he says, taking up my small, green camping chair. I bring my knees up in front of me and watch Rick accept a mug and fork of his own.

"Thanks." He nods. "Smells good."

Dad grunts in reply, standing and sitting back in his chair, not looking up from his fork. I think he's nervous.

I'm nervous, too. This feels like a meeting with the principle after you done somethin' wrong.

We spend a short while just sitting there together, eating quietly, until Rick sets his mug down in his lap and decides to speak up. "Shane's packing his things." He says, trying his best not to sound too dispirited. "He'll be gone within the hour. Me and T-Dog are drivin' him into town and leavin' him there. Whether he goes without a fuss, I don't know. I'm hopin' so. It's the least he can do, after... after everything."

"You gonna miss him?" I wonder, knowin' that no matter how much he shouted last night, that's still his brother he's losing today.

"I don't know." He attempts a smile, but it falls flat. "My old memories of him, maybe, but I'll always have those."

"I bet Carl and Lori are sad he's goin'."

"They'll get over it. We all will." Rick says. "Always do."

It's true. Whatever new horror gets thrown at us, we always get over it, 'cause we gotta. Can't live, otherwise.

My gaze wonders over to the barn again, sitting tiny and brown on the other side of the farm. I know now that there's more to it than just wood and paint. It's still so strange to think of all those people in there, just shuffling, and groaning, and waiting. They're dead, but somethin' about it all makes me feel sorry for 'em. At least when we run into walkers, we put 'em out their misery. These ones are made to suffer longer, and for what?

Over by the oak tree where Otis's empty grave lays, I can make out a couple of the Greenes dragging long, white bundles into deep holes. A funeral. For them ones that got killed last night, I reckon. An awful feeling nestles into my stomach. Some reason, feels like I'm a murderer.

Rick notices what I'm staring at. "I talked to them this morning. They don't blame you, Harley."

I got nothin' to say to that. It still don't make it right.

He sighs at my silence, sensing it's better to just address the elephant in the room. "Daryl, you know why I'm here."

I tense, 'cause I don't know why he's here. Could be he's decided to throw us out, too.

Dad finally meets his eyes.

"What Shane said last night was... unexpected, to say the least." He clears his throat. "I want you to know I don't take things like this lightly."

He nods, accepting the admonishment. "You're a father, too. I get that."

"And man to man, I need you to tell me something." His frown deepens as he says gravely, "You said you've changed. Is that true?"

People like you Dixons never change.

It takes everything in him to answer, but he manages. "I want like Hell to."

"How can I trust you on that?"

"Only good thing my ol' man ever taught me was to be a man of my word. Taught me everything that don't make a man. Taught me who I don't wanna be. I lost sight'a that for a while... I ain't proud of it, neither. But that's how it is." He looks at me when he mutters, "And I'm sorry."

Hearing those words from him feels like a bandage on a wound I ain't even know was there.

"Took gettin' shot by a maniac to realize it, but... For what all this bullshit's been worth, at least there's that."

Rick needles, "You know I could've thrown you out last night, don't you?"

Dad nods. He knows.

After considering all this, and seeming to more or less approve of it, Rick warns, "I better not hear of this happening again."

"You won't."

Something in Dad's tone must convince him, 'cause he eventually decides with a nod, "Alright, then."

Weird, how this whole journey just boils down to Rick sayin' those two simple words. Alright, then. The type of acceptance only families give out.

"Word of advice, though. You might wanna share all this with the others. Folk'll wanna hear it, Carol especially. For peace of mind."

That's a fair deal. "Yeah. I can do that."

"I'll let you sort that out in your own time, then." He says, setting his mug down as he stands from the stump. Dad follows suit, so I do, too, and in a strangely wholesome moment I wouldn't've even bothered picturing in my wildest dreams a year ago, he reaches out to shake his hand. Rick, the cop's, hand. He takes it firmly, and they do that thing again where they talk without speaking. Pulling back, Rick nods, "Thanks for breakfast."

"No problem." Dad grunts, wiping his palms on his muddy jeans. "Nigh time you tried some good squirrel."

"Yeah, well now I know where to go if I've ever got the hankerin'." He jokes easily. "You both enjoy your morning. I'll see ya later, once we get back."

"You don't need a second pair'a hands, do ya?"

"No. No, I reckon it's best you don't even breathe in Shane's direction today. He's... Well, there's gonna be an element of jealousy, there."

I guess, "'Cause we get to stay, and he don't?"

"Exactly." He smiles at me, before giving Dad a glance. "Among other things."

Dad just gives a look of grim understanding.

For how different they are, at least they got that one, weird thing in common. A man named Shane Walsh tried to steal their kid away from 'em.

With that, Rick gives Dad a smack on the shoulder, ruffles my hair a little more gently, and then turns back in the direction of the farm.

When he's a good distance away, Dad grabs his flannel off the back of his chair and throws it on.

"Come on." He nods me over. "I wanna show you somethin'."

Leaves crunching underfoot, Dad makes his way through the forest, crossbow slung over one shoulder, me slung over his back.

As he steps over a fallen log, he hums, "What about Hemlock?"

"Poisonous."

"Foxglove?"

Another easy one. "Poisonous."

"Buckthorn?"

Dang it, I always forget that one. They look so similar to blueberries that my mind always goes to, "Edible?"

He shakes his head, amused. "Yeah, right. Buckthorn'll make ya heart give out."

"Guess I got that one, wrong, then." I pout, annoyed at myself.

"Got all the others right, though."

We've been playing this game for about ten minutes, now, and he still ain't given me one clue as to where we're goin'.

"I got another one for ya." He suggests, hiking me up further when my knees dip past his waist. "Cherokee rose. What do they mean?"

I grip on tighter around his neck, humming. "Uh... Somethin' about Native American people, durin' the war?"

He encourages, "Yeah, you got it."

"They say when the missin' children's Mommas cried, the tears made 'em grow." I recall the tale he told me, once. "Meant good luck. Right?"

"Yeah, that's right." He praises me. "Made 'em feel less like the world was against 'em all the time. Gave 'em hope."

I smile to myself. "I like that story."

"Me, too."

"You wanna tell me where we're goin', now?"

"Don't gotta." I perk up as he comes to a stop, helping me slide onto the ground with a grunt. "This is it."

We're here?

A grin splits my face at the sight of it all. A big, shimmering lake, wreathed in grass, flowers, reeds; ducks gliding along the glassy surface, enjoying the sun. I follow him down the hill and onto the old wooden dock, where the tiniest teardrop shaped fish dart around underneath.

Crouching down at the end of the dock, I giggle as I spot a big knot of green frogs sleeping on the protruding rock in the middle of the water.

"It's so pretty." I exclaim, sitting back with a smile. Dad takes a seat next to me on the sun-warmed planks. "How'd you know this was here?"

"Passed it when I went hunting this morning."

"Kinda looks like the lake that was near our house." I muse happily to myself. "Even got the same smell. Pollen and dirt."

I don't quite catch it, but Dad smiles fondly at me. "Yeah, I thought you'd like it."

"Why'd we come here?"

"Sh. Just enjoy it."

The sounds of quacking; the gentle ripples bobbing out from around the line of ducks. It's enough to make me wanna stay here forever. I love the privilege of doin' nothin'. There's nobody out here except us and the earth. "Remember when Hunter pushed me in at Aunt Mandy's birthday?"

Dad and Uncle Kyle had to jump in and save me, 'cause I couldn't swim, but at least it was funny, after.

"Always was a little shit, weren't he, that boy." Dad scoffs, shaking his head. "Be thankful you're stayin' dry, this time. Least you can swim, now."

"Huh?" I giggle, confused. He don't seem to get what I mean, so I tell him, like it's obvious, "Daddy, I can't swim."

He gives me a baffled look. "Yeah, ya can. Merle told me he taught ya."

"Nuh-uh. He was meant to, while you was gone, but he never did. I think he ended up goin' to the bar, that day. After that, I guess he forgot."

Sometimes I feel like there's an invisible Merle Fuck Up list, and it keeps gettin' longer every day, even when he ain't even alive to add to it, no more. Like the time he told me to wait outside the liquor store and told me if I was a good girl, I'd get a sucker, but I wound up sittin' there on the curb until after nightfall, 'cause he forgot he left me there. The time he accidently fed me super spicy takeaway. The time he didn't feed me, at all.

Reminded of all those famous Merle Fuck Ups, my Dad rolls his eyes, officially fed up with his dead older brother. "Damned idiot."

"Makes ya feel any better, he made sure I could hold my breath good, at least. Held my head under the bathtub 'till I went purple."

He glances at me, distraught. "No, it don't make me feel better. Hell he do that for?"

I shrug. "In case Hunter ever pushed me in again."

"Trust me, that would'a been the least of his problems."

I drop my gaze, then, absentmindedly picking at the chipped wood. "He did lots of stuff like that while you was gone."

The years my Dad was in prison were the worst years of my life. I've always felt that way, but now I can pin-point why. It was Merle. I guess I was just lucky that by that time, Grandpappy Dixon had already left the state, otherwise I would'a gotten it twice as bad. When Dad was home, he could rip Merle's door off its hinges, break his phone, or his bong, or make him sleep outside on the patio, and he'd lay offa me for a little while. A whole day, if I was lucky. But I was on my own for those four years. Sure, our neighbour Patty would check up on me once every couple weeks, 'cause I think she always felt a little sorry for me, but for the most part, I was alone with a monster in my house. I realize that, now.

People like you Dixons never change. I know Merle didn't. Right up until the day he died, he was the eldest, toughest, meanest Dixon.

Things would be a lot different if he was still around. Worse, probably.

"Never gonna say I regret killin' that piece'a shit, Fletcher, but," He sighs, staring out onto the water. "I'on know. I should'a been there."

I used to wish every day that the police would change their minds and send my Daddy home. Of course, that never happened.

"It ain't your fault." I tell him.

"Nah, I could'a done better, chicken." He mumbles, before clearing his throat. "You know, I brought you out here to tell you somethin'."

"You did?"

"What I said this mornin', I meant it. I wanna change. I wanna be... I wanna be someone better than just a shitty Dixon. I wanna be a good Dad. I see Rick with Carl, and I just think about how the only person who ever taught me how to do this shit was your Uncle Merle, and before that, our Dad. Sometimes, I think I should'a just shot him, that night. I ask myself why the Hell I ever let my own brother lay his hands on my kid, and I... I just got nothin'." He takes a deep breath to steady himself. "Anyway, my point is that I'm tryin'. And I'm gonna... I'm gonna start with this."

I watch in anticipation as he shuffles, reaching back into his pocket, and settles back down again. In his hands, is his—?

"Your wallet?" I frown, at a loss for words. "Didn't it—?"

Didn't it burn up with everything else we left in he CDC?

"I kept it in the glovebox." He explains, flipping it open. There's the picture of me as a newborn, again, tucked behind the plastic sleeve. "I was gonna give it to you while we were on the road, but things got crazy after that, and I guess I put it on the back burner for a while."

"Why were you gonna give it to me?"

He gently caresses his thumb over my photo-self, before forcing himself to hold the wallet out to me. "S'yours, now. Look at the last photo."

I take it, a little sceptical, and lay it in my lap, gazing down at the first photo — Dad, holding me at the hospital right after I was born. I've seen this before. I look up at him. He gives me a nod, as if to say, go on, so I trust him, and I flip over to the next one. I've seen this one, too. Me, Dad, and some of his old friends, visiting the elephants at the Atlanta Zoo. They had really good ice cream there. I remember eating so much of the strawberry flavour that my chin was pink for days. Then the third one. School photo. Not as interesting as the rest, but still nice.

"Keep goin'." He tells me. "I never showed the last one to you. I wasn't ready. Still ain't, but... Just look."

"Dad, you're bein' weird." I laugh, feeling lost.

He encourages me, "Turn the damn page, girl."

"Okay, okay."

I do as he says, expecting another family photo.

My heart jumps up into my throat.

"Momma?"

It's really her. I bring the photo closer to my face, as if it's made of ash and'll blow away at any moment. There she is. My Momma. Tears fill my eyes all at once, and I gotta smack 'em away to see her properly. She's close to the camera, grinning up at the person holding it. A cigarette in her slim fingers, nail polish cracked and messy. She's sitting on a park swing, I think, bare shoulders lightly sunburnt. She's... She's happy.

"I took that the day she agreed to be my girlfriend." Dad says quietly, not looking at the photo, but at me. "Thought you might wanna have it."

I never knew a picture like this could exist of her. A picture this happy, this carefree.

'Cause I meant it when I said my Daddy killed my Momma.

It was a week after that day in the court parking lot, and a month after Momma's final meltdown. It was around the time my Dad stopped letting me see her as often as I used to. I'd begged him, please, please, please can we just see her for one hour, Daddy, please. We even stopped at a gas station on the way to buy her her favourite candy bar. Snickers, two dollars and ninety-nine cents. I'll always remember that. The man at the counter was so nice to us. I wore my best summer dress and sang songs on the car ride there. It was gonna be the best day, ever.

But when we got there, she was talking about the spiders again, the ones in her brain. She said she didn't know who I was, and that if Dad didn't get me out her house right then, she was gonna kill me for confusing her. I promised her I wasn't, not on purpose. It was me. Harley.

But as usual, she didn't listen, and as usual, Dad was right. We shouldn't've gone to visit.

I threw the candy bar in the bin when we got home.

After that, they went to court and something happened that meant I was never allowed to see her again. He wanted full custody, and he got it.

I love you, Harley, She cried to me outside the courthouse. That was one of the days she remembered me. I love you so much it's gonna kill me.

Meemaw said Momma was going away for a while, somewhere confused people go, but all she did was leap off a bridge at midnight a week later.

I had no Momma, after that.

Heart hammering in my chest, I look up at my Dad, then, hiccupping, "Why'd you keep this?"

As the sun catches the wetness in his eyes, he admits, "Because I loved her, baby."

"But you— you never wanted to see her." I frown. "You took me away from her."

"I know I did." He says. "I loved you more. I couldn't let you see her like that. It weren't good for you."

I hold the wallet close to my chest, spitting at him, "But at least, then she would'a still been alive."

"It's not as simple as that." He almost begs me to understand, "Your Momma was a beautiful woman, but she was sick, baby. Me an' your Meemaw did everything we could for her, but sometimes, there's people who just don't want your help. It was never gonna end well, Harley."

The sobs wrack my body harder at that, 'cause I wish it could've. I wish it could've ended well for us.

"And I'm sorry it didn't. I never told you that, but I should've."

I collapse into him, then, and he scoops me up into his arms as easily as he's always done, and we just sit there at the end of the dock, and we mourn together. It feels like letting out a flood I'd been holding in for years. Dad's never liked talking about Momma, not even when she was alive. I used to roll around on the living room floor, screaming on the top of my lungs, where's my Momma, where's Momma, and without saying a single word the whole time, he'd pick me up by my armpits, force-feed me dinner, bathe me, dress me, and shut me in my room for the night.

But sometimes, like that night at the CDC, I'd just get beat, instead.

Now, he's cradling me. He's shushing me, rocking me, crying with me, and that's enough for me to know that Dixons really can change.

"I miss her." I moan into his neck. "I miss her so much, all the time."

I miss her when I look at Lori, and I miss her when I go to sleep, and I miss her when all I want in the world is to hug my Momma one last time.

"I know you do, baby." What I would'a gave to hear him say that every day until forever. "I know. That's alright. I miss her, too."

I miss her so much it's chronic, but knowin' my Dad feels that way, too, makes the pain a little more bearable.

After what feels like the longest hug in the world, I'm finally ready to pull back. He takes in my raw, blotchy face, and uses the sleeve of his flannel to wipe away all my tears as I gaze out at the lake, trying to catch my breath. Once I feel like I ain't dyin' anymore, I turn to face him again.

"Thanks, Dad." I sniffle. "I'm gonna take real good care'a the wallet. Of Momma."

He smiles, for some reason looking like he's really proud of me in this moment. "I know ya will."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, my darlin' girl. So, so much."

Feeling just how sore my face is from crying, I grump, "I feel like my face is gonna fall off."

He chuckles at that. "You wanna wash off in the lake? Go for a lil' swim?"

"I can't." Did he forget what I said about not bein' able to swim? Or is he jokin'? "And we're wearing clothes!"

"Don't tell me you're scared, little chicken."

"Wh—?! No! I ain't scared!"

He starts making little chicken noises, which is even more annoying.

"Dad!" I'm gigglin', now. I give him a hard shove on the chest. "Stop!"

"Come on. I'll teach ya."

That's all he says before he scoots forward onto the edge of the dock, and much to my complete and total horror, jumps right in. Splash! The fish all scurry away under the ripples in all different directions, as he wades further out, ignoring me when I laugh uncontrollably to him that his clothes are all soaked, now. He don't care. The water's nice, apparently. He opens his arms out for me and says I should jump. I almost hesitate, but then I think to myself, Who cares if my clothes get wet, and soon enough, I'm doing my first ever cannonball into a lake in the middle of nowhere.

Even when it feels like every corner is made up of misery, there's always one little place in the world that's still filled with goodness.

On the bank of the lake is a bush of Cherokee roses. White, like angels.

Author's Note.

Guys, I write sooo slowly. I could sit at my laptop for an hour and have one paragraph to show for it. It's a curse.

Please enjoy this wholesome ( ? ) chapter. Daryl and Harley FINALLY talk about her Mom. I'm so happy that I got to write that scene. It's been a long time coming. He really wants to be the best he can for Harley, and that was the first step in doing that.

What do you think, has he changed? Or was Shane right?

In my opinion, I don't think he was ever the villain that Shane thinks he was. At heart, Daryl's always known that the way he's been treating Harley is wrong. He was doing what he's been taught to do, which is the simplest thing anyone CAN do, which is cover up everything with anger. I think this is him discovering who he's truly been the whole time. Of course, it's totally up to interpretation.

I hope you enjoyed reading! Again, sorry for the wait. Sending love :)

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