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jinkiezzsstuff · 4 months

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Wing Grooming

lucifer x gn reader

warnings: i’ve written before but i don’t do it often so be aware, written on mobile, no mention of skin colour/bodytype/gender/hair type, no use of Y/N, slightly sexual but no real smut, cursing.

i love lucifer and i love the wings shtick <3 also i’ve worked with birds so im applying my knowledge of them here teehee

lemme know whatcha think this is only the second time homegirls written an xreader. also writing on tumblr sucks it deleted my shii so many times and i had to keep rewriting paragraphs

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔗𝔴𝔬 :)

—

Lucifer anxiously paced around his room in the hotel, unable to relax due to his wings, they were itchy. Normally he used various different objects to break the casting of new feathers, and remove those pesty pin feathers. He’s been so busy at the hotel recently, he completely neglected his feathers causing some unfortunate issues with his malt. After all he didn’t have only two he had a whole six, and it wasn’t easy to take care of all at once. In all honesty, Lucifer would rather cut them off before asking for assistance with preening them. Tossing his hat to the side his wings popped out unwillingly loose feathers flying around him. Curling the first set in front of him, he picked through to find the cause of the itch and discomfort. Chills ran up his back as his fingers gently searched through, they were sensitive from lack of care not to mention preening never failed to give him goose bumps. A knock sounded from his door making him jump, his wings puffing out around him. “Uh, ah, one moment.” He shouted in a sing songy voice, jumping to his feet from where he sat he hurried over eager to get back to preening.

Swining the door open you stood on the other side smiling with papers in your grasp. Keeping his wings hidden slightly behind him and the door he greeted you with a charming smile. "Hi luce, Charlie said these belonged to you something to do with the different rings?" Quirking your head to the side you observed the king with curiosity. He was visibly uncomfortable, fidgeting and shifting from side to side. "Are you alright?" He blew air out in a pft sound at you and stood a little straighter. "Just a little feather issues, you know how it can be..." Lucifer trailed looking off to the side trying hard to ignore the stinging itch that shot through one wing.

“Oh can I help in any way, if that’s not strange?” You ask innocently but Lucifer’s mind went immediately to the gutter with the thought of you tracing your hands down his back and his combing through feathers, it made him shiver with delight. Although his blush was evident and his demeanour dropped to a slightly more shy one, you remained waiting patiently for his answer. “It’s- uh, normally, i don’t let anybody touch them. Um, but you can! Of course..” He trailed switching between stretching himself up with confidence and shrinking down again with doubt, regardless of his apprehension he still stood aside opening the door wider for you to enter. “It’s just the preening process is all. Difficult to reach.” Lucifer muttered as you welcome yourself into his room. With a bright smile you reassured him that you would do as he asked and you’d rather help than have him be stuck with that icky discomfort.

Setting the paperwork down on a table, Lucifer closed the door and lingered next to a bench sofa whistling as his wings flapped him at random behind him. Turning to him he looked a little shy still not fully meeting your gaze. Unsure of what exactly to do but you gave him an assuring smile. “I don’t have to do this, I can get Charlie to?”

Lucifer laughed quickly shaking his head. “Ha ha, no that would make things worse actually, you’re much preferred! Just y’know it’s a lot to work on.” Plopping down on the bench he outstretched his wings behind him on full display for you, his heart pounding against his ribs. You felt a zap of emotion shoot through you at the admission that you were wanted by him for this job.

It wasn't a secret Charlie's dad woo'd you the moment he waltzed in the door, but your loyalty was with Charlie and you didn't want to disrespect her by eye fucking her divorced father while he's here to help. Although Charlie seemed pretty enthralled that her father was making an effort to spend time with her friends, even elbowing you and whispering that he seemed to particularly enjoy conversation with you.

After that it was harder to ignore the way you felt for the King, Charlie would constantly drop not so subtle hints that her dad took a liking to you and that caused your mind to wander and fantasize. From there on you got more confidence putting yourself in situations to catch him alone in conversation or help him with different tasks he had to complete. Beginning your work on his wings, you hummed quietly to yourself easily spotting several pin feathers coming in that needed to have the keratin shell taken off. Carefully you split the feathers away and massaged off the shells one by one listening to Lucifers pleasant hms, groans and sighs. He visibly slumped, and his body rested just barely against your thigh as you worked on the very top wing. “These look pretty cluttered hun, have you been struggling to care for them?” You didn’t even notice the pet name slip as you called everyone off handed pet names, but Lucifer did notice and it brought him a warmth he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Sweetly talking to him about his wings without judgement, combing them comfortingly, humming like an angel just to him. It felt as good as when his ex wife was still around caring for his wings. It’d been so long since someone was by his side caring for him like this.

Lucifer never responded properly to your question about upkeep only humming in a trance like state as you worked your way through the top set of wings "You're so good at this, sheesh, I wish you'd do this all the time." You blushed faltering slightly which Lucifer panicked about, tensing and opening his eyes. "Of course i'm only spit balling, heh, it's just so relaxing like a sauna!" Shaking your head you moved down to the last set of feathers not missing the way he shuddered with your touch. "It's alright i don't mind that you say that. It feels nice actually, to help you." Lucifer didn't say anything feeling suddenly heated as ever as if hell wasn't hot enough. The feathers closest to his hips were unsurprisingly the most sensitive and the touches although innocent felt suggestive to him. The King felt dirty for feeling a euphoric sense of pleasure ripple through his bodv and straight to his junk while you unknowly worked through his feathers. “You okay? Did I hurt you?" You asked noticing his breath picking up and his body stiffening. Lucifer grinned and turned to look at you you meeting his gaze and seeing just how dazed he truly was. "I'm just... well,"

It was like his throat closed as he looked back at you crouched down to get at the last row of feathers that were draped along the floor. The king swallowed snapping his head forward again. “Ahem, I’m sensitive, good, sensitive.” He had hoped you understood his insinuations. Which you had. Breathing in deeply you flattened your hand out spreading your fingers and combing through the feathers more methodically from the base of his wings and outward. That cause him to jump up standing straight, you followed in persuit, panicking that you crossed a big line. His wings twitched but he stayed staring forward rigid, you quickly walked around the bench calling to him softly. “Lucifer i am so sorry if i crossed the line, that, that was unacceptable i’m so sorry.” To which Lucifer spun to you, face red, grabbing your shoulders he smiled a somewhat embarrassed smile. “No no, that was completely fine, i just,” Lucifer pulled away tucking his hands away from you, again which was kind of upset you.

“I think if we continue that, type of grooming, I won’t be able to control myself.” Although still shy about his admission his eyes were half lidded and his smile sly. You felt fire explode in your stomach all innocence out the window as your mind settled on one thought. You were gonna bang your friends divorced dad.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel

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cultofdixon · 2 months

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Within Your Warmth

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Y/N finally found a place to sleep and Daryl was going to hit anybody that disturbs her • SFW • TW: Sleep Deprivation

Requested by: Anon

“You coming to the bonfire Rick has going on later?” Rosita asks Y/N while she was in the middle of her fifth task of the day, pantry restock.

“Yeah, if I’m not too exhausted”

“Well there will be alcohol. The new dude Greyson found a case of beers on his run the other day with Eugene.” Rosita hopped up on the only stool in the pantry watching her best friend work. “Even Eugene found a good scotch”

“Now that’s what I’m here for” Y/N laughs lightly finishing the canned goods and about to start putting away the new jarred stuff from Oceanside. “Do you know if Daryl is gonna be there?”

Y/N could sense the smirk on her face resulting in a groan as Rosita quickly popped off the stool bringing herself up behind her bestie.

“The Daryl Dixon? The one you’ve been crushing on since longer before I came along?”

“Yes. That Daryl Dixon”

“So…if Daryl were to come then you’d for sure come?”

“I guess—“ and with that Rosita left the pantry, leaving a confused Y/N to continue doing what she was doing before heading onto the next task.

The bonfire was happening at Alexandria. They rotate through the communities every couple days to keep the connection between their families…even if Maggie doesn’t want to step foot in Alexandria as long as he lives. Daryl was currently residing in the Sanctuary after being tasked to keep an eye on the community which felt more like a punishment and only two people understood that. Carol and Y/N. When Rosita left to find him, she half expected him to be inside yelling at someone. Instead he was working on the gardening plots with a green thumb from the Kingdom and a few Saviors that turned for good.

“Dixon” Rosita brought on her tough exterior when talking to the man in hopes that her asks would be given a positive answer. “I have to ask you something”

“If it’s about the bonfire bullshit, I’m going”

“It’s about——“ Rosita paused, relaxing her shoulders. “Wait. Seriously?”

“Rick asked, so did Aaron. You just missed them” Daryl handed the hoe off to one of the Saviors so he could get close to Rosita. “Why are you askin’?”

“It’s more so trying to get another to go tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Y/N said she’d go if you do…so does that confirm the mutual feeling that brews between the two of you?” Rosita smirks trying to get more out of the archer but he continued to have the same deadpan look from before. Her shoulders instantly slumped and the smirk faded. “Alright, loverboy…I’ll see you tonight”

“Mhm” Daryl let out a small chuckle before returning to work while Rosita headed off.

As the night came and the bonfire was starting, Daryl leaned against the picnic table holding all the goodies they brought out scanning around the intimate event in search for Y/N. Who so happened to be the last to arrive even if she lives in the vicinity.

“Where the hell have you been?” Rosita pulled Y/N aside when she was about to make small talk with someone.

“Uh. My watch shift? I just got relieved”

“What the hell?”

“What? I wasn’t gonna halt my work load for the day to doll myself up for a man who’s probably equally as tired as I am”

“Well hate to disappoint but the man is question” Rosita gently took a hold of her chin, directing her to look at Daryl while he was in the middle of a conversation with Gabriel. “Seems to have showered and dressed nicer than usual. I wonder who it’s for”

Y/N can’t deny that Daryl did indeed look extremely well put together. Did everything they used to beg him to do when they first arrived to Alexandria.

“I’m gonna go see how he’s doing” Y/N shot a smile his way which definitely caught his attention, but when she parted from Rosita to make her way over…she got stopped by Ezekiel and couldn’t just cut her friend off.

Daryl felt his small smile falter when she got pulled away not just once, but a handful of times throughout the night. He hasn’t even seen her eat or drink anything. Y/N was very popular that night and everybody wanted to talk to her, he wanted too as well but no window opened.

Until she was sat in one of the outdoor chairs by the fire, Daryl instantly took the empty one beside her and watched her tiredly look at him.

“Sorry was this—-“

“I’ve been trying to talk to you all night…” Y/N sighs, finally relaxing and keeping her attention on him. “I miss you”

The heat instantly made itself present on the tips of his ears as he tried to fight back a smile.

“Missed yea too sunshine”

The two caught up on what the other has missed regarding their community, ending with Y/N talking about how much Rick is an idiot for having Daryl watch the Sanctuary. A few share that same thought but hers had a whole other meaning.

“You staying the night here?”

“Yeah, figured they’d survive a night without me” Daryl scoffs finishing his beer as Y/N curled up slightly in her chair to get more comfortable.

“Well…I still stay at Rick and Michonne’s. No one touched your room if you’d like to stay there”

“I was actually planning on it…”

“Good” Y/N continues to hold her smile that he will always take a mental picture of. Before she could get another word, Rick quickly cut in to ask Daryl himself about any updates for the Sanctuary.

Which lead the exhaustion to finally hit Y/N after a long day.

When his conversation ended by Rick running off to catch up with Ezekiel, Daryl was going to return to his with Y/N but noticed she fell asleep in her chair. So instead of waking her, he sat with her and made sure no one disturbed her.

Daryl shooed away people, even tossed his empty beer bottle at Aaron who tried to start a conversation (thankfully he caught it)…eventually he got up from his spot and carefully picked up Y/N bridal style which led her to stir awake enough to realize what was happening.

“Oh…”

“You’re alright, imma take yea home”

“Okay, long day” Y/N mumbles resting her head against his chest closing her eyes once more.

On the way to the Grimes residence, Rosita and Michonne went up to make sure Y/N was okay but Daryl quickly gave them a look to back off gently. Nothing was wrong. Thankfully they both understood.

“Who woulda thought it took having Y/N do a lot of shit today to have this tonight” Michonne stated, taking a sip of her scotch as Rosita choked on her beer.

“You’re also trying to get them together?”

“Please. I’ve been trying since our prison days. At least she can finally rest easy tonight…it’s been hard for her with Daryl at the Sanctuary”

“I bet…” Rosita continued to watch the two walk off before leaning close to Michonne with a smirk. “What’d yea win in the bet with Carol?”

“Three night shifts for the bridge camp”

“Nice”

Once they got inside the house and upstairs to Y/N’s room, Daryl gently laid her in the bed before grabbing a blanket draping it over her carefully. What he least expected, Y/N gently took his wrist tugging him back to the bed as he caught the hint or so he thought by bringing him low enough for her to wrap his arms around him.

“Lay with me…”

“Are you su—-“

“I’ve missed you so much Daryl, I’m not letting go of you that easily”

The archer didn’t wait another moment and quickly kicked off his shoes before climbing into the bed laying on top of her. Y/N let him adjust to where his head rested comfortably on her chest letting her run her fingers through his hair.

A satisfied sigh left Daryl’s lips holding her as she held him in a way where she wasn’t going to let go easily.

And he’s thankful for that

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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ayyy-pee · 9 months

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𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Day 1: Exhibitionism

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Cheating, Exhibitionism, Creampie, Profanity bc who do you think I am, Pussy Eating, Masturbation, Exes to Lovers, Jealousy, Wasting food :(, DID NOT PROOFREAD SO SORRY FOR ERRORS LMFAO

Summary: Satoru hates the fact that you've been out of his grasp all this time. He loathes that you’ve been in the arms of another man, that you’ve had someone else warming his side of the bed, let someone else taste you, hold you, feel you the way he used to.

You may be over Satoru, but Satoru is not and will never be over you.

❥ Gojo NSFW Week Twitter - AO3 Collection ❥

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“You alright, sweetie?” You ask, peering through the rearview mirror as you put your car in park. The sound of whistles blowing, people cheering and clapping can already be heard from the parking lot. The nervous little face of your nine year old son behind you stares out the window. He looks about ready to ask you to turn around and go home. His stark white brows lift, his messy, just as stark white tresses swing wildly when he turns his attention to you.

“Hmm?”

You unclick your seatbelt to turn in your seat. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he sighs, fidgeting with the collar of his uniform. “I just…wanna win today.”

Bright blue eyes stare into yours, searching for reassurance. Those same blue eyes that remind you too much of the one person you’d like to avoid as much as possible today. Even so, you grin, nodding.

“Honey, you’re going to do great. You’ll win the game and Daddy and I will take you out after. We’ll take you even if you don’t win.” You wink.

“Dad’s coming?!” He beams, unbuckling his seatbelt excitedly. You knew the mention of his father would help.

“Yep, he should be here soon. I’m sure you’ll see him while I’m getting your snacks together.”

“Cool!” He scoots forward, throwing his small arms around you and your seat. “I’ll see you after the game, Mom. Gotta go warm up.” Your son swings the backdoor open and leaps out.

“Good luck!”

With a sigh, you climb out of the vehicle, popping the trunk open to grab your snack cooler. It’s your son’s last soccer game of the season. He wants his dad to watch him win, wants to make him happy. It’s cute. Though there’s not much he really needs to do to make his father proud. He could do anything and he’d be happy. Because the one good thing about Satoru Gojo is that he’s incredible at being a dad.

You and Satoru have separated for a while now, per your request. Satoru is an incredible father. You’ll never argue that. But as far as being a husband goes? Well, there were a few things about him that rubbed you the wrong way during your marriage that prompted you to ask for a separation. The main issue being that he just really gets on your fucking nerves. It’s almost like he goes out of his way to get under your skin. Satoru’s always been that way. At one point in time, it was endearing, exciting.

But your personalities began to clash and Satoru began to feel more like dead weight than your partner. It was just a matter of growing apart. The decision to leave Satoru was easy. It was staying away that was hard.

That’s why you’d jumped at the chance to do snacks for the boy’s team today. You and Satoru rarely enjoyed family events together. Not because you didn’t get along. You got along fine, whether Satoru was annoying or not. More for the fact that being in the same room with each other usually led to such thick sexual tension that you’d end up texting him to sneak over in the dead of night.

And you were seeing someone else now. Satoru knew it. You knew it, obviously. And yet, you still worried that whatever insane hold Satoru still had on you would ruin your relationship.

But this event meant a lot to your son. He wanted his father here for this and you couldn’t say no to him. Besides, Satoru would be on the sidelines, cheering far, far away from you while you prepped the fruit slices and sandwiches in the small snack shed at the end of the field.

Halfway to the shed, you set the cooler down on the grass just when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. A small smirk graces your features seeing the name flicker across the screen with a text.

Baby: I’m running a little behind, but I’ll be heading out soon! Baby: Wish him good luck for me! You: Drive safe babe. No rush!

You’ve been dating your current boyfriend for a few months now. Things are going well…slow. But it’s fine. You don’t need the constant rush or excitement that you had with Satoru. That’s what you like about him anyway. That he’s not Satoru. And your son likes him well enough. That’s the most important thing.

You’d let Satoru know ahead of time that your boyfriend was coming and he didn’t seem to have an issue with it. At least, as far as you could tell. Satoru never was good at being honest about his feelings.

“Ohhh, is that your new future husband?” A familiar, grating voice sings into your ear and you roll your eyes because you know exactly who it is. Next to you stands Satoru, in all of his irritating glory.

He’s got that stupid grin that you know so well on his face, cocky as ever because he knows he looks good. He’s already basking in the way the soccer mom’s heads nearly fly off their necks spinning around just to look at him. Too damn tall for his own good and conceited as hell because he’s not a fucking idiot, Satoru knows he’s attractive. Top it off with those eyes he likes to wear sunglasses over just so he can relish in the gasps he receives when people see his aggressively blue eyes?

Satoru is a walking red flag if you’ve ever seen one.

He’s obnoxious. And yet your body still tosses all common sense out the window whenever you’re near him. Your heart stutters, your cheeks warm, your palms fucking sweat. It’s pathetic.

You scowl, tucking your phone away. “Mind your own business for once, Satoru.”

Satoru blinks, stunned for all of two seconds…and then throws his head back with raucous laughter. He slips his hands into his pockets and shrugs. "Well, I still pay the phone bill so it's not like I can't check to see who you're texting anyway."

Asshole. Your eyes narrow. "...Do you?"

There’s not a second of silence between you two before Satoru laughs again and points to the cooler, asking, "What's in there?"

His sudden redirection works, your eyes falling on to the cooler. “Oh, I’m on snack duty this week so everything’s in here.”

Satoru’s not paying much attention anymore, eyes scanning the soccer field until they land on your son. He waves, calling out “good luck!” across the field. You take advantage of his brief distraction and grab the cooler, moving toward the shed hurriedly.

You feel Satoru’s presence trailing behind you within seconds, following you because of course he is.

“I can give you a hand with those if you want,” Satoru offers, long legs carrying him to stride next to you. You shake your head.

“I don’t want. Go watch the game and enjoy.”

You need distance. Being within a small, enclosed space with Satoru sounds like hell. Because you know it will take no time at all for him to talk you out of your pants. Satoru jogs ahead anyway, opening the door to the dingy shed for you and you move inside, setting the cooler down gently.

“I insist.”

- - - - -

Satoru thinks it’s cute how stubborn you are. You’ve always been like that, bullheaded and impossible to move when you’re set in your ways. You always say Satoru has never changed and never will, but it’s really you. It’s one of the many things that made Satoru fall in love with you in the first place.

After your little proposal to separate, Satoru was heartbroken. He let you go, though. He was certain you’d come to senses, ask for him back eventually. It’s just been a waiting game for him. But now the game is taking too long. The more he waits, the further away you seem to be drifting from him. And now you’ve brought another man into the picture.

That’s the last thing he wants.

Satoru’s eyes track your movements across the shed. It’s fairly well maintained, albeit tiny. There’s a long table facing a small window and a single chair to sit on that you wave at Satoru to sit in. He doesn’t mind. He likes the view as he watches you bend over to open the cooler and rummage through the contents.

It reminds him of how things used to be. Reminds him of the times you’d brought your son to his games together, as a family. Reminds him of home.

The painful squeeze of his heart no longer catches him by surprise. He always feels it whenever he’s near you, whenever he hears your name, whenever he thinks of you. And he’s always thinking of you.

It’s sick, really. Sometimes Satoru thinks he’s obsessed with you with how often he thinks of you, how often he checks his phone for a message or missed call from you, how often he fucks his hand to the thought of you. He’s not too prideful to admit it. He fucking daydreams about you, goes to sleep hoping you’ll be waiting for him when sleep carries him away.

You’d up and left him out of the blue, asking for a separation, your only reasoning being that you just don’t see a future with him anymore. Then you had the nerve to invite Satoru over only for the occasional booty call, have him damn near fuck you through the bed and slip out the door before sunrise. He didn’t mind the arrangement at first…

…But now you’ve moved on. And Satoru hates the fact that you've been out of his grasp all this time. He loathes that you’ve been in the arms of another man, that you’ve had someone else warming his side of the bed, let someone else taste you, hold you, feel you the way he used to.

You may be over Satoru, but Satoru is not and will never be over you.

“You ever think about giving us another shot?” Satoru asks suddenly. He watches with amusement as you stand, back facing him and shoulders tense.

“Absolutely not,” you answer after a beat.

Satoru’s smile widens. “Why not? I’ve thought about it. Too much, probably.”

"Of course you've thought about it. You didn't leave me, I left you."

"And yet that still didn’t stop you from texting me to come over at 2 in the morning for months after.” Satoru leans forward in his seat, reaching one of his long fingers forward to run along the back of your thigh.

You swiftly slap his hand away and he chuckles. “Yeah, thankfully I don’t need to do that anymore.”

Satoru frowns. So easy to forget you’re seeing someone else when he has you right in front of him. Not that he gives a fuck.

Satoru’s been patient, he thinks, kind even. He’s let you have your fun and date around despite the way his blood boils listening to his son tell him what mommy's been up to lately. Lots of sleepovers with your little friend who's on his way now, apparently. Satoru can't fucking stand it.

He rises from his seat, closing the gap between you when he slips his arms around your waist. And like always, you melt into his touch, even when you whisper “Satoru” as a warning. You inhale sharply, but don’t move his hands. You let him hold you even when he sits his chin atop your head, breathing in the sweet smell of your shampoo.

“What?”

“This is…it’s– this is just inappropriate,” you stammer. Your body is betraying you already, giving in so easily to Satoru’s touch like it always does. “You know I have a boyfriend.” You continue moving the fruit around, just to keep yourself busy to try to hide the way your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest.

Satoru hums, the vibrations from his chest zipping through your body, igniting goosebumps along your skin. “Yeah, but I know it’s not serious.”

You scoff, a hand coming up to grip Satoru’s wrist when you feel his warm breath ghost across your skin.

“Is it serious?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper. He wants to know. He’ll back off if you tell him you’re really into this guy. Well, he might back off. Really depends on his mood.

“It’s…I don’t know.”

“If you don’t know, then it’s not that serious.” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss just below your ear and you suck in a sharp breath.

“Satoru…” You try to chide, but it comes out as more of a pathetic whimper.

Satoru answers with a groan. “You don’t know what it does to me when you say my name like that.” He pushes closer to you, evidence of exactly what you saying his name like that pressed against your back.

He’s so incredibly hard just from being this close to you again, inhaling your scent, feeling your soft body against his. God, it’s hard to not shove you down onto the table and fuck you now. But, he doesn’t want to scare you off because he knows at any moment you could change your mi–

His thoughts are cut off, a deep groan ripped from his throat when you roll your hips back, grinding your ass against his length.

“Shit…” Satoru sighs, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck the way he knows you like. “Can you feel how much I want you?” He kisses your neck, nipping lightly at the smooth skin and you thrust your hips back harder. “You want me too, huh?”

“Yes!” You moan. You won’t even deny it. You couldn’t if you wanted to. You’re putty in Satoru’s hands and your body moves of its own accord. Satoru rolls his hips into your ass again, groaning loudly as his cock throbs within the confines of his pants. He wants you so bad, it fucking hurts.

“Let me taste you, baby,” Satoru pleads, hands slipping down to play with the waistband of your pants. “I haven’t had you in so long. I miss that pussy more than any–”

“God, you talk so fucking much. Just do it, Satoru,” you whine impatiently. Satoru laughs, kissing your cheek before he’s on his knees.

“Aaaalright.” He hooks his fingers into the waistband of both your pants and underwear and pulls them down in one swift motion.

Satoru leans back, admiring the view from his spot on his knees. Stunning is the only word appropriate to describe you. Bent over the table with your beautiful bare ass and dripping core exposed for him. His dick throbs painfully in his pants as his eyes focus on exactly where he’s been dreaming of seeing up close and personally for months now.

And now that he has you for the moment, Satoru wants to enjoy you. He wants to savor you before his time is up. But he can’t help but want to make you squirm before he does, remind you that there will never be another man who can fuck you the way Satoru does. The thoughts only intensify as Satoru palms your ass, kneading the soft flesh just before he leans forward and places soft kisses to the backs of your thighs. He can feel the way your legs tremble in anticipation, how your breath hitches every time he inches a bit closer to where you want him the most.

Then he’s pulling you back by your thighs, meeting you halfway to latch his hot mouth directly onto your pussy. He doesn’t waste a second, flicking his tongue over your clit right before he sucks the sensitive nub harshly, just the way he knows you like, a broken cry of his name falling from your lips.

A blend of your moans fill the room – yours from finally getting the touch you’ve been craving. Satoru’s from getting to taste you after all this time. The vibrations of Satoru’s moans shoot straight to your core, but the feeling doesn’t last long. He’s gone before you can fully enjoy his touch. You roll your hips back as you desperately search for Satoru’s mouth. You want him to do that again. You want him to devour you right where you stand. But Satoru won’t give that to you just yet. He leans back on his heels again, watching you whine needily, wiggling your ass in his face.

“You know I love when you scream my name…” he leans forward again, kissing the soft skin of your bottom. “But you don’t want your little boyfriend to hear us, do you?”

Your eyes snap up, peering out of the small, now fogged window of the shed. Sure enough, your boyfriend is standing at the edge of the field. How the fuck did Satoru know he was here? God, he’s so annoying. It’s like he can see through walls or some shit.

Just when you’re about to speak up, tell Satoru that this is a mistake, you find the only thing leaving your mouth is another desperate whine when Satoru gives your clit a small lick before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly. It has your head spinning, mouth falling open with a silent cry as he works his tongue back and forth between your folds.

“Oh my fucking godddd,” you mewl quietly, trying to roll your hips back, find more friction. But Satoru halts your movements with his hands. He runs his tongue, long and slow, over your clit. Your legs shake with every lick. Your heart races with every groan. Satoru is trying to take his time, trying to enjoy the sweet taste of your essence on his tongue. You’ve always tasted like a dream and having you again has his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he buries himself as deep as he can in your cunt and consumes you.

“Make sure he doesn’t come over here,” Satoru mutters into your pussy. He brings a hand down to hurriedly work his pants open. He pulls his cock out, hissing into your core the moment the cool air touches it. His fingers spread his precum over his swollen length before he wraps hand around himself, stroking slowly. “Fuck.”

You stare outside the window, eyes half-lidded as Satoru absolutely loses himself in you. Your boyfriend scans the field, probably for you since you’re nowhere to be seen. You watch as he pulls out his phone, his fingers moving across the screen. Not even three seconds after he pockets his phone, yours vibrates, but you can’t focus on that when Satoru nips your clit hard and you damn near shriek his name as your orgasm tears through you.

You can hear Satoru panting, hear the way his fist pumps his cock as he drinks up every bit of your release. And then he’s on his feet, his free hand coming up to hold you by your jaw, holding your attention to your boyfriend.

You can barely make him out through the tears forming in your eyes. Satoru places sweet kisses along your face. He presses his cheek to yours, eyes locked on your boyfriend and you whimper when you feel his cock nudge your entrance.

“Be a good girl and keep an eye on him for me,” Satoru requests. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you gasp as Satoru pushes forward.

He pushes forward, filling you so painfully slow. This is Satoru’s favorite part. He loves feeling the way your walls stretch deliciously to accommodate him, hug him so snugly inside of you. The weight of his cock inside you has you absolutely reeling, thighs shaking as you take all of him, just the way you used to.

You bite your lip, soft whimpers filling the small space as your eyes flutter shut. But Satoru nudges your cheek with his, your eyes snapping open again.

“Ah, ah. Watch him,” he commands through gritted teeth. “Need you to watch your boyfriend while I fuck what’s mine.”

Satoru kisses your cheek sweetly, then gives you about three seconds to adjust to the way he absolutely fills your pussy before he’s moving, bottoming out on every thrust that follows.

“I could live in your pussy forever,” he groans, cock hardening as he watches you boyfriend wander like a fucking idiot around the sidelines. Satoru holds your face in his hands, squeezing your cheeks a little tighter. “Take me back. I know that fucker doesn’t make you feel the way I do.”

You whine, trying so hard to keep your eyes open while Satoru fucks into you with reckless abandon. The table bangs against the wall loudly and you hope that the noise of the game is enough to cover it up.

“Take me back, baby,” Satoru begs. “I’ll be good this time.”

You shake your head, keeping your eyes closed. It’s so easy to lose yourself in him, to give him all of you. You want to believe him when he says he’ll change, but history has always proven you wrong. You just don’t work anymore.

Satoru pistons his hips, his cock nudging against a part of your walls that makes you keen.

“I’m so much better for you and you know it.” His hips pick up speed, his hand coming down to grip your hip so tightly you’re sure you’ll have a bruise there tomorrow. “Look at him.” He thrusts into you deeply, grunting in pleasure at the feel of you getting tighter around him as you watch your helpless partner. “He’ll never be able to give you this.”

Your fingers find your clit and you rub in time with his thrusts and your mouths fall open together, moans escaping the both of you. It’s so hard to keep it down when it feels this fucking good.

Satoru can see your eyes have closed. It’s fine. He’s watching. He sees your boyfriend glance over to the shed, body turning as he makes his way over. His hips slam harder into yours and you bite your lip to hold in yet another scream.

A part of him regrets asking you to keep it down. On the one hand, he'd love for your new man to hear you screaming his name while he empties his balls inside of you. But on the other hand, an all out brawl at his son's soccer game probably wouldn't look good. Not that he couldn’t take him anyway.

Your boyfriend’s about halfway to the shed when he stops in his tracks, reaching into his pocket to fish out his phone. He taps the screen, presses the phone to his ear and turns back around. He’ll probably be back soon, Satoru thinks.

“As much as I love this,” Satoru thrusts into you hard, hitting that delicious spot again and making you whimper. “Need to wrap it up before your loser man comes back.”

You moan, fingers still working your clit as Satoru fucks you with everything he has to offer.

“I’m never letting you go, you hear me?” He mutters between thrusts. “Your little boyfriend can’t fuck you like this, can’t give you what I can, baby.” It’s less dirty talk and more Satoru whimpering into your ear. “I love you and that’s never gonna change. You’re my wife. My wife. Mine.”

His declaration of love shocks you, has your eyes rolling back as your orgasm shoots through you, a broken cry of his name ripping from your throat.

Satoru turns your head, slamming his lips into yours to smother your cries as he pumps into you harder, faster. He grunts loudly into your mouth as he feels his cock pulse hard inside you, a guttural groan emerging from deep within his chest as hot spurts of cum shoot from his cock and paint your walls white with his seed.

You’re both gasping for air, desperately trying to catch your breath as reality sets in.

You just cheated on your boyfriend. You just fucked your ex-husband over a plate of fruit inside of a fucking shed.

That’s how strong of a hold this fucker has on you. You want to say you don’t work together, that Satoru irritates you to the point that you can’t stand to be in the same vicinity as him. In reality, you just have no power when it comes to Satoru. You don’t know why you fight it. It’s stupid to try because you know you wouldn’t be able to resist if you tried.

You sigh, pushing back against Satoru who gently pulls himself out of you with a soft hiss. You pull your pants back up and clear your throat. Outside the window, your boyfriend has returned to the soccer field, still gazing around the area for you.

“I have to go out there.” You tell Satoru. He hums, buttoning his pants.

“Yeah…”

You glance over your shoulder, watching as Satoru takes his seat again. Would it be worth trying with him again? You don’t know, but you do know one thing. Your body calls for him, becomes weak when he’s near. Maybe you’re not actually ready to move on because it doesn’t seem like you can.

Satoru catches you watching him and he beams, running his fingers through his snowy tresses.

“Can I expect to hear from you later tonight?” He questions. He knows the answer already. He just wants to hear you say it. But his eyes widen when you give him the answer he least expected.

“Come home with us after the game. We can talk about…us.”

699 notes · View notes

elryuse · 3 months

Note

yandere ex girlfriend sohee?

MY CRAZY EX GF, IS DRIVING ME INSANE

YANDERE EX-GF SOHEE X MALE READER

Y/n was just an ordinary college student until he met Sohee, a dazzling K-pop idol whose beauty and charm captivated him from the moment they crossed paths. Even though Y/n was just an Ordinary College Student... Sohee somehow found him cute and unique from the rest.. This made Sohee really excited and started to approach him whenever she has the chance.

"Wow you are really cute.. What's your name"?

"Uhmm I'm Y/n. Lee Y/n.. You're that famous idol right? Sohee if I'm correct"?

"Bingo.. So do you want my autograph or maybe a picture"?

"Uhmm how about a phone number? Is that cool"?

" *Chuckle* You're funny Y/n... Alright then.. Here is your reward... XXX-XXXXXX_XXX".

"Wow... Is this for real"??

"Let's catch up later... Bye bye *wink* ".

After calling her up and starting to actually know Sohee better.. Y/n actually kinda feels like She was the one for him... He started to pay more and more attention for her, Missing out on some classes just to watch her performance.. And giving her all the best support he could ever give.

But one day... Sohee Cheated on Y/n. Which devastated him mentally and physically. He trusted Sohee with all of his life, he even almost gave up his college degree for her. And this is how she's repaying his time and effort? Y/n wanted Sohee to apologize, To feel ashamed to actually be responsible for their Relationship. But she never did.

Sohee Chooses her new "partner" Over Y/n. Which devastated him even more. But eventually Y/n moved on from her.. He started to pay more attention to his studies and started to actually be a pretty good college student.

"Sohee why the fuck are you sleeping with him? And why won't you answer my calls"?

"I'm tired... You're just not enough for me.. I needed something that you can't ever fulfill Y/n".

"Please.. I love you... I would have done anything for you Sohee.. For us.. So please tell me why".

"My friends keep telling me that you look boring... And I started to see it too.. You're to young.. And I'm basically 6 years older than you... So please.. Just go home.. Don't ever see me again".

"What!? That's it? You're gonna let me go, Just like that"??

"You're nothing to me Y/n. You never did.. ".

"Wow.. Just wow.. All this time... I've sacrificed all of my time... I guess.. I was too dumb to believe you.. ".

On the other side... Sohee has been treated like trash by her new "partner" Of hers. Her new partner was abusive, and liked to play with random girls around him. Sohee even found out that Her friends actually slept plenty of time with her new "partner" Which saddened Sohee even more.

Sohee finally realized in those moments, Just how hurtful it feels. To be betrayed by the person you trust the most. She started to regret her decision and started crying in her large penthouse. Sohee cried at the thoughts of actually staying in the relationship with Y/n. How happy she would be, Especially having a trustworthy Partner as Y/n.. Remembering the memories actually made Sohee chuckled little by little.

She remembered how he was very clumsy when he was cooking a dish for dinner. And would often burn his finger, Sohee would always take care of him and they would laugh the night away in Y/n small apartment. Remembering the memories made her even desperate to have him back. So She decided to call Y/n multiple times.

But he would never answer...

This made Sohee even more desperate... And in those desperate times, She realized the power that she had.. She's rich and has a powerful connection in this business world. She took the chance by forcing her way into Y/n's Life as possible as she can.

She would often sabotage Y/n's Workplace. By buying the ownership of the building (Office). Which means she could actually see Y/n all day long. But not long after that Y/n would leave this job and search for a new job. But Sohee never gave up... Her mind is only filled with how much she needs him... How desperate she is to actually be with him again.

And so, Day by day, Month by month. Sohee started to stalk Y/n. Y/n who feels that something was wrong immediately tried to look for the source of the inconvenience that he felt. But he didn't realize sooner that, His Crazy Ex Girlfriend would do some mad shit to own him again. To actually be his again..

She bombarded Y/n with gifts, love letters, and apologies, refusing to take no for an answer. Which creeps the living shit out of him. She would often knock on his apartment door, Ring the bell and would even stand on the other side of the room, Waiting for an answer from Y/n. In the end Sohee forces Y/n to meet her face to face. She forced his parents to actually accept her marriage letter... Which shocked Y/n to death. Since Y/n Can't do anything... He is now once again in the grasp of Sohee...

As soon as they got married, Sohee's obsession only intensified. She isolated Y/n from his friends and family, ensuring that he was completely dependent on her for validation and affection.

Terrified of losing Y/n again, Sohee resorted to extreme measures to keep him by her side. She sabotaged his job interviews, manipulated his social media accounts, and even went as far as to threaten anyone who dared to come between them.

And Just Like that... Y/n's free will was taken by force by Sohee... He was now an empty shell of a man that was once happy and cheerful. He's now stuck in the grasp of a Crazy Wife... Who would never ever let him go...

"You're mine forever Y/n...".

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #alice sohee #yandere #obsession #yandere scenarios #yandere stories #stalker #obbsessive

269 notes · View notes

loveharlow · 4 months

Text

SEVEN - 002

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[6.5k] based on 1x02.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of parental neglect, mild violence, mentions of death/grief, disturbance of a graveyard (?)

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I've been wanting to do an OBX rewrite for a very long time so here it is, the first chapter from yours truly.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“DO YOU REALLY THINK BIG JOHN COULD STILL BE ALIVE?” Kiara’s slightly digitally distorted voice came from the other end of the line. Your phone was pressed between your ear and shoulder as you searched the hangers in your closet, bath towel wrapped snug around your frame and your hair thrown up into a bun, which was presenting more like a mess of damp strands.

“It doesn’t matter what we think, Kie,” You made clear, eyeing a cute shirt you thought you’d lost. “We should just be there for him.”

“Yeah… but what if we’re just feeding into a fantasy? Wouldn’t that make us bad friends if we weren’t honest with him?” You could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the phone as well, dresser drawers slamming occasionally.

“Maybe you’re right.” You sighed, throwing your outfit onto your bed and heading back into the closet to find a bikini to wear underneath. Living in the Outer Banks meant you had a plethora to choose from. “But the way I see it? If it were my dad that went missing, I’d be looking for him too. I’d give anything to even have that small hope that my dad was still alive back, but I know he isn’t… so, I understand.”

“I didn’t think about it like that…” It was sad to hear her so conflicted, as if she’d said the wrong thing.

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to. And I would never want you to be able to understand that feeling. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” You reassured, putting the girl on speaker to toss the phone on your bed and slipping the bikini you picked out onto your frame and tying the respective knots. “That’s why if John B thinks his dad is alive and wants to look for him? That’s what we’re gonna do. Because alive or not, John B is like a brother to me and leaving him to do this alone is what would make us bad friends.”

“I guess you’re right…are you still meeting up with the guys today?”

“Just J and John B for right now. Pope said he’d be around later after helping his pops.” You told her, slipping an oversized shirt over top of the bikini, eyeing your closet shelves for a pair of shorts.

“Alright, I might swing by if my parents aren’t up my ass about work.” She complained. “Talk to you later.”

“Later.” Was all you said before the end-call sound rang out in the expanse of your bedroom.

A swift series of knocks met your closed door from the other side, you shouted for them to come in, assuming it was either your mother or your dog Marley’s tail hitting the wood. The 2-year-old golden retriever had a knack for sitting outside your bedroom door on the rare occasion that it was closed and she wasn’t inside.

The knob twisted and in walked your mother, adorned in her signature navy blue pencil skirt and blazer, still a half hour to spare before she had to head off to her office for work. Rebecca Reyes was the Outer Banks’ most notable and renowned lawyer. Even when you still lived on The Cut all those months ago, she was still the island's number one defender. Moving to Figure Eight and getting rich, almost overnight, just gave her the resources she needed. You still questioned where all the money spawned from, chopping it down to your father’s life insurance coming through.

But the bank said that could take a while and you never assumed it was enough to buy a house on Figure Eight. But that’s adult stuff, you thought to yourself.

“You got home late yesterday,” She began bluntly, adjusting the diamond bracelet on her wrist. The smell of her expensive perfume already wafting into your space. “Where were you?”

“Just out with John B and the others.” You said with a shrug, walking out the closet with a pair of sneakers in your hands as you undid the tied laces.

She hummed, eyeing the space around you as if she’d never seen it before. “Did you hear about the boat they’re searching for? Scooter Grubbs’ boat?”

You side eyed her quickly, not quick enough for her to catch however. “Yeah, the whole island is losing their minds over it.”

“You and your friends haven’t come across anything, have you?”

“...I doubt we’d have any luck coming across a Grady-White, mom. Especially after the hurricane. That boat could be oceans away for all we know.”

“Right.” She agreed, but she seemed far away. Off. Why’d she care about Scooter Grubbs’ boat? “And what’s this I hear about some kid with a gun at The Point?” Your heart dropped.

“A gun?” You acted semi-shocked. “I don’t know, I wasn’t there.”

“Hm.” She droned. “Well, if you find anything don’t hesitate to tell me. Or Shoupe, for that matter. He said two out of towners showed up for the boat search yesterday, looked sketchy. So, be careful.”

You hummed in agreement, watching as the woman strutted out of the room without even a small ‘goodbye’.

You and your mother were nowhere near as close as you used to be. Your father’s passing caused a rift between the two of you that seemed irreparable. You just felt like she had become so cold and closed off, nothing like the woman who used to bake every weekend or plan family nights in the backyard. She was more secretive, dismissive. You couldn’t even remember what her smile looked like. She’d changed so much. She used to hate Sheriff Shoupe, said he was a dirty cop who worked under the rich snobs of Figure Eight. Now, it’s like they’re business partners of some sort and she is a rich snob on Figure Eight.

She even changed her last name back after your father died and wouldn’t tell you why. That was what made you feel the most alone. Rebecca Carter was now Rebecca Reyes but you were still Y/N Carter and your father would always be Owen Carter.

It was like she was trying to erase him and everything they’d built together.

You hated to admit that sometimes you wondered what your father would think of the woman she’s become. If she would be as unrecognizable to him as she is to you.

YOU SAT IN THE BACK OF THE VAN, legs bent as your journal rested atop your thighs while you scribbled down your thoughts and recent events — namely the events of yesterday. You had one earbud in, your playlist on shuffle as you half-listened into JJ and John B’s conversation that was happening in the front seat, the bumpy ride making your handwriting a bit chicken scratch-ish.

“I don’t understand why you don’t at least try with Kiara,” JJ started, his heavy boots kicked up on the dashboard. “She clearly likes you. She’s like ‘Oh, John B!’. She’s sketchy about you diving and then she kissed you, bro.” The blonde continued.

“She kissed me on the cheek. It’s not like we were makin’ out.” John B denied, brushing off the girl’s clear affections.

“Low-hanging fruit, bro.” JJ cut him off, the statement making you cringe in silence as you continued to scribble. “I see it in your eyes. You’re like ‘I kind of like that’.” JJ said in a mockingly low and seductive voice.

“Okay, you want to talk about me?”

“Yeah, bro, I wanna talk about you and your lack of game.”

“My lack- my lack of game? Okay, what game do you have, JJ? ‘Cause I haven’t seen any improvement in your case.” JJ’s head whipped between you and the boy in the driver’s seat within milliseconds before he was swatting John B’s arm.

“C’mon, dude...” He warned in a hushed tone. John B just chuckled.

“That’s what I thought.”

Moments of silence passed before their voices were heard again. “I gotta admit, your dad’s compass in Scooter’s boat? Freaky, man…” JJ claimed, twirling the newfound object between his fingers.

“That’s why we’re going to talk to Ms. Lana and figure this whole thing out. She’s his wife, she has to know something.” John B told him.

“And what makes you think she would want to talk to us?” You added, spooking the blonde boy in the passenger seat.

“How long have you been listen-”

“I’m always listening.” You spoke bluntly, a blank expression on your face as you averted your attention from your journal to him. “Anyway,” you dismissed. “A group of teenagers showing up to ask her about her dead husband, the boat that the whole island is looking for, and the compass we found inside of said dead husband’s lost boat? She’ll either think we’re criminals, FBI, or crazy.”

“Well, this is our first resort.” John B replied, eyes looking at you through the rearview. “We gotta try.”

“KNOW WHAT THIS HOUSE LOOKS LIKE?” JJ said, leading the group of us to the front yard of Lana Grubbs’ residence. “Whoever lives here smokes too much weed.” He observed the small, shack-like house — the walls were overgrown with weeds, the yard looked like it’d never been cut, the place was a mess from the outside.

The three of you stopped, more like flinched, in your tracks when you heard glass-shattering from the inside of the house followed by crash after crash. It sounded like the outside of a rage-room or a gun range.

“Maybe we should come back…” JJ advised, taking small steps back. But John B persisted, even as the two of you stood back in fear.

“No, no, shut up, JJ.” John B reprimanded absentmindedly.

“Tell me where it is or I’ll fuck you up!” A deep, brassy voice boomed from the inside. The voice so authoritative it made you shudder, but it didn’t worry you as when a woman’s scream followed. You could only assume it was Ms. Lana. “I’ll sink you in the fucking-” A crash, louder than the rest, cut off the sentence, almost covering the sound of Ms. Lana’s blood-curling screech.

“You’re hurting me!”

John B beckoned JJ and you on with his hands, urging the both of you to move forward. Reluctantly, and after a weary glance at one another, you and JJ followed the brunette boy who was edging closer and closer to the side of the house.

“Where the fuck is it?!”

“I don’t know!”

The three of you quickly dashed and ducked beneath the window seal on the only open window when you heard something hit the wall from the inside. You had just parted your lips to say that, just maybe, this was a bad idea. A terrible one, even, before a phrase yelled by the angry man inside had you shutting up.

“The compass wasn’t in the boat! Where is it, Lana?!”

“I don’t know!”

Your heart dropped as things continued to get thrown and slammed inside the house and you prayed those ‘things’ didn’t happen to be Lana. The paint and wood started to physically chip and fall off the walls outside, landing on top of the three of you crouched against the side of the house, wood particles falling into your eyes.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, man…” Another male voice commanded, followed by two pairs of heavy footsteps against the wooden floors inside. The three of you peeked around the corner to watch the two men disappear from the grounds through the front door, stomping angrily towards their boat.

The same boat that had been shooting at you only 24 hours prior.

“Those were the guys that shot at us.” JJ whisper-yelled.

“Go back.” John B commanded, pushing you all back behind the safety of the wall so they wouldn’t see you all. Once the boat sped off, the three of you slowly tip-toed your way into the house. The sound of Lana’s cries getting louder and more heartbreaking the more you entered the house, shoes crunching on wood and glass. Photo frames and dishes all broken into smaller fractions and littered on the floor, holes in the walls, kitchen cabinets hanging on by a single hinge.

“Ms. Lana?” You called out, voice laced with concern, eyeing the broken windows before they found Ms. Lana’s curled up figure on the bathroom floor right below the sink that was hanging on by a singular pipe. “Oh my God.” You gasped, kneeling right next to the woman and laying a hand on her shoulder that caused her to flinch and shrink in on herself.

She had tears running from her red, swollen eyes, curled up like someone’s child.

“She is tweakin’.”

“Shut up, JJ.” You hissed, shooting a mean glare at the insensitive blonde before turning your attention back to the feeble woman. “Do you need a doctor? We can call a doctor for you.” You assured, examining the multiple cuts adorning the woman’s face and arms.

“We can call the sheriff’s department-” John B was on the verge of suggesting before Lana cut him off frantically.

“No cops, please!”

“Mm, that’s not good. Let’s bounce.” JJ urged, weary of the woman’s persistence to avoid law enforcement.

“You shouldn’t be here...” Lana cried, her eyes focused on John B, speaking as her lip quivered and her voice shook.

The brunette’s face twisted, kneeling next to me to level his gaze with Ms. Lana’s. “Do you know those guys?”

“They were… looking for something.” Her voice wavered.

“...Does it have anything to do with this?” John B asked her, pulling the compass from the back pocket of his board shorts. You and JJ shared a glance, both knowing John B probably shouldn’t have shown it to her. “This was my father’s and Scooter had it. Do you know why?”

Why did John B think showing a woman his father’s compass and saying he copped it from her dead husband was a good idea? You had no clue. Interrogation tactic? Impulsiveness? Stupidity? Lana’s eyes were wide and teary, she looked like she was seeing ghosts.

“Scooter didn’t have it, okay? Don’t tell anyone that you have that. They can’t know that you have that!”

Your lips pulled themselves into a thin line and you were starting to feel less bad for Lana and more suspicious of the distressed woman. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. She didn’t seem to be a threat but she clearly knew things that she shouldn’t. You nudged JB’s arm, whispering in his direction even though the woman could most likely still hear you. “We should go…”

“You’ve gotta get out of here!” Lana cried, fearful gaze eyeing the compass in John’s grasp.

“What do you know about the compass?” John B raised his voice over her frantic one, still questioning Lana as JJ pulled him back and the three of you stood to leave.

“Go! Get out!” Was the last thing you heard as the hysteric woman yelled at your retreating figures.

“SO, YOU SAW THE GUYS THAT SHOT AT US, RIGHT?” Pope asked with his head in his hands, stressed after listening to JJ’s dramatic rendition of events. The three of you had returned to The Chateau and summoned Kiara and Pope not too long after, the events of today on the tip of your tongue. “Did you get a good description of them? Anything we can bring to a police report?”

You shook your head along with JJ and John B as Kiara and Pope sighed at you all's lack of response. There was nothing special about these guys. Sure, they seemed out of place but that’s because nobody on the island knew them. That was one perk about living in Kildare, everyone knows everyone. But these weren’t leather jacket, ski-mask wearing criminals. They didn’t stick out like sore thumbs.

“That’s not very helpful…” Kiara huffed.

“But, but,” JJ started again. “They were burly. Like the men I’d see at my dad’s garage. You guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers...” He reminded you all carelessly. “I can tell you with full confidence that these guys? They’re square groupers.”

“Like Narcos square groupers?” Pope questioned with little amusement, his face dropping as he watched JJ smoke against the brick wall.

“Like, Pablo Escobar square grouper?” You added on, just as skeptical from your seat on the patio floor, legs stretched in front of you and crossed over one another while you leaned on your elbows for support. JJ just nodded, blowing out smoke.

“You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie.” Kie reprimanded from her place next to Pope on the patio furniture.

“Okay,” Pope started. “What does a square grouper look like? Hm? Because clearly, you don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Okay, you weren’t there! I wasn’t taking little mental polaroids the entire time, dude! I was under duress!” JJ whined to which you and John B rolled your eyes.

“Why would they want the compass?” Kiara probed, leaning forward in her seated position, resting her forearms on her thighs.

“That thing’s a piece of shit, you could pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to… No offense, John B.” Pope claimed honestly, watching as John B flicked the object open and stared at it longingly, paying no mind to the boy’s insult.

“Well, clearly it’s worth something.” You popped in. “Considering these guys are willing to kill for it.”

“...The office.” You all turned to the scruffy brunette. A silent question on everyone’s face. “My dad’s office.” John B continued, shooting up and walking inside The Chateau as you all scurried to follow, shooting one another confused glances. “He always kept the office locked ‘cause he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. Remember?” He directed at you and JJ, looking back but still walking forward. “We used to laugh at him like he was actually going to find it. But now that he’s…gone, I just left it as he kept it.” He said despondently.

“Yeah. For when he gets back.” Kie backed him up with a light-tipped smile. Keys jangled as John B unlocked the room you hadn’t seen in years. Not since before Big John went missing. Before all of this.

“I’ve slept over here like six-hundred times and I’ve never seen this door opened.” Pope said aloud, eyeing the office like a museum.

This was like being hit by a tidal-wave for you. And you’re sure it was the same for John B. You can remember the countless nights you’d slept over before and after Big John went missing. Before he went missing and you, JB, and JJ would peek inside just to watch him just write and type like his life depended on it. It even brought back memories of when your dad would stay a while after dropping you off to spend the night just to share beers in the backyard with Big John.

The nights after his disappearance weren’t as sweet though. Sleeping in a group hug around John B after his dad went missing. Then your friends all slept in a group hug around you after your dad went missing. Then they slept in another group hug around you when your dad’s body was found, washed up on the shore for the entire island to see. With the plethora of events, The Chateau became a haunted house in your mind.

“Look,” John B said, pulling you out of your stupor. He’d taken a bulletin board down off of the walls that was decorated with paper scraps and old pictures. His index finger pointed to the photo at the very top, a sepia-like tint to it. “This was the original owner of the compass.”

The paper pinned against the photo read ‘Robert Q. Routledge. 1880 - 1920’.

“There’s the lucky compass right there.” Kiara showed you all, pointing to the object clutched in the old man’s hand in the picture. You wouldn’t exactly call the compass lucky, though. And if it was before, it surely isn’t now.

“Actually, um. He was shot after he bought it…” John B informed. “Then the compass was shipped back to Henry.” He continued guiding you all through the timeline, pointing to the next picture. “Henry was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass.” You happened to look up at the exact same time as Pope, the two of you locking eyes with visible worry. “After he died, the compass was given to Stephen. Stephen had it when he died in Vietnam.” The boy ranted. “After that, Stephen passed the compass down to my dad.”

“This is painting a very bad picture, JB…” You warned, hand on the back of your neck as your face twisted.

“Yeah, he has a death compass.” Pope deadpanned.

“I do not.” John B denied, rolling his eyes and sitting down in the nearest chair with the compass still in hand. “My dad used to talk about this compartment here.” He explained, fiddling with the article between his fingers. “Soldiers used to hide secret notes.” He twisted the back of it off, revealing a word scratched into the top. He sat up with surprise as he spoke. “...This is my dad’s handwriting.”

Pope scoffed. “How can you know that?”

“He’s right.” You assured the doubtful male absentmindedly, squinting your eyes and craning your neck down to see the word written into the metal. “Big John had horrific handwriting and his R’s always had a point to them. I always used to think they looked like big-headed baby chicks, in a way. That’s definitely his handwriting.”

“Weird observation…but she’s right.” John B backed you up, his eyes going back to the compass. “Redfield…” He muttered. “What’s Redfield? Is it a clue?”

“A clue? C’mon that’s-” Pope began until you shot him a nasty glare, silently telling him to be helpful and supportive or shut up. His eyes widened as he gulped. “If it is a clue, m-maybe it’s an anagram?”

“Yes!” John B jumped up from his seat, beckoning you all to back up some. “Anagram. Perfect. You need paper.” He directed at Pope, eyeing scanning the cluttered space. Handing the boy an old, crinkled sheet of notebook paper, Pope got to work with the help of JJ and Kiara as John B and you scoured the desks for anything else of use.

Your ears were quick to pick up on the sound of an engine over the chatter of the brainiac bunch behind you. Eyes perking up to see a black truck pulling onto the yard.”...Guys?” You spoke, but not loud enough. “Guys!” You shushed them, all eyes turning to you. “Somebody’s here.”

The five of you crowded around the window, peeking through the blinds and peering through the dusted glass. Two males got out of the car and you recognized them immediately. “Those are the guys from The Marsh and Lana’s house.”

John B was quick to turn towards JJ. “Where’s the gun?”

“I don’t know-”

“Now you don’t have the gun? The one time we need the gun?” Kiara panicked.

“It was in my backpack and then I-...it’s on the porch.” JJ quickly realized, sighing before biting his lip out of frustration.

“Go. Go get it.” John B urged quietly but you were quick to step up, tugging the short sleeve of JJ’s shirt before he could open the door.

“No, no, we are not sending JJ out there to be pummeled by square troopers, square groupers, whatever they are-”

“We need the gun-” The bandana-wearing boy hissed.

“I don’t care. We stay put. We stay together.” You insisted. But JJ gently swiped your hand down and backed out of your reach, one hand up in surrender. “What’re you doing-”

“It’ll be quick, I swear. I’m like a ninja-”

“JJ.” You said simply, disappointed as you curled your fist in annoyance.

“I’ll be on my Batman shit.” He whispered before leaving the room quietly with the door cracked behind him, allowing you all to see him leave.

“John Routledge!” A country man’s voice boomed, causing JJ to turn around and slide his way back into the room quietly before he’d even made it two steps outside of the office. “C’mon out now!” JJ closed and locked the door as you all heard the pairs of footsteps enter The Chateau. The men began smashing and throwing things around just as they did Ms. Lana’s house. Was this their MO or something?

‘Window’ Kie mouthed, pointing to the window that led straight into the yard, towards the chicken coop and the surf shack. JJ and Pope rushed over to it as John B held down the door, which was just him standing against it with his hands above his head. JJ and Pope tried to lift the frame but it wouldn’t budge. Your face twisted in confusion, walking over to where the two boys were struggling and attempting to pull up the window seal yourself with no better luck.

“It’s painted shut.” You couldn’t help but smack your teeth, cursing under your breath as your eyes quickly scanned the room for something sharp as you patted the back of your shorts, feeling an object in your pocket. Digging your hand in to reveal a pen, the one you’d been using to journal that morning. You whispered for the guys to move before ejecting the pen and sliding it quickly along the seal to break it as quickly as possible.

Suddenly, one of the square groupers began kicking the door down, John B running across the room.

“Hurry!” Kiara whispered.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” You hissed. When the seal was completely broken, you wasted no time in opening the window, being the first to jump down into the backyard and making a b-line for the coop. The five of you piled inside one by one, the space surprisingly big enough for five fully grown teenagers as you crouched in tense silence. Just then, you heard a shot ring out from the inside of the house, assuming the man shot the door down.

Everyone could hear everyone breathing, shaky breaths all throughout the small enclosure. And the roosters. One rooster would not stop crowing. You were hoping, praying the damn thing would stop making noise. It wasn’t long before the guys were seen leaving the house, carrying at least two crates of books and research each.

“Pope, shut him up.” JJ demanded, referring to the rooster next to Pope that was making the most noise.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Pet it or something, I don’t know.” Kie cried. Suddenly , JJ got up and grabbed the rooster by its neck, pressing it into the ground until its neck audibly snapped and its clucking ceased. You couldn’t help but cringe and look away, the sight somehow prompting you to gag. JJ’s eyes met yours as if he was making sure you were okay, you giving him a sickly nod in return. One that wasn’t as reassuring as you hoped. Kie was crying silently and you didn’t miss the way John B grabbed her hand in comfort.

“WHAT BETTER PLACE TO HIDE A MESSAGE THAN A FAMILY HEIRLOOM?” John B tried to muse from the driver’s seat of The Twinkie.

“Maybe somewhere more easily accessible.” You said bluntly, laying back on the floor of the van, your foot on Pope and head in JJ’s lap, Kiara in the passenger seat. “Like a hidden jewelry box compartment or a locked drawer. Not inside of a death compass on a dead man’s sunken boat.”

John B simply ignored you. “He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?” He spoke hopefully, referring to his father.

“It’s possible.” Kie agreed from the passenger seat next to him, not wholeheartedly however.

“It could also be possible that you’re concocting wild theories to help deal with your sad feels- Ow!” Pope was interrupted when you kicked his knee, shooting him a glance that said ‘what the hell'.

“You know how I process my sad feels,” JJ started, your eyes drifting to him as your head craned slightly back from its place atop his thighs. “Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies.”

“Preach.” You agreed, dapping up the blonde boy.

“Look, I’m not concocting, okay?” John B nearly shouted in frustration. “My dad’s trying to give me a message.”

“...If it helps you believe, John B.” Kiara tried softly.

“I don’t need a therapy session. I’m not trippin’ out.” He dismissed the four of you. “My dad is missing, okay? Missing. You guys don’t know what it’s like to have the person closest to you vanish and have no idea what happened.”

Suddenly, the two pairs of eyes in the back of the van turned to you. You couldn’t help but curl in on yourself slightly. “Stop it.” You demanded, averting your eyes to the window, watching the palm trees pass by. You hated when they acted like you had to be shielded from things because of what happened to your dad.

“It’s been almost a year.” Kiara nudged JB, letting it go. “But fine. What do you think the message is?”

“Redfield.” The brunette reiterated hopefully. “Redfield Lighthouse. My dad’s favorite place.”

THE LIGHTHOUSE LOOKED A BIT DIFFERENT THAN YOU REMEMBERED. It looked older, more rickety. You could swear it was leaning now. The five of you stood staring up at it before John B turned around to face JJ.

“You’re gonna post up out here and look for bogey’s. Alright?”

“Wait, why me?” JJ asked pitifully.

“...JJ, there are independent variables and dependent variables. You’re an independent variable-” Pope tried to reason.

“Shut up.” The blonde-haired boy dismissed with a snarl.

“We don’t know what you’re gonna do!”

“Just shut up!”

“Listen to me,” John B broke the boys up, pointing an assertive finger. “Pope, you stand lookout with JJ. Y/N, you make sure they don’t rip each other’s heads off. If we get split up, we meet back at JJ’s house.” You watched as Kiara and John B hopped over the fence and onto the lighthouse property. You slid your back against a nearby tree, one earbud placed in your ear as you drummed your fingers against your thigh, playing with blades of grass between your fingers.

“I’m gonna work on my merit scholarship essay. I’m trying to keep felonies to a minimum.”

“All right, would you just shut up already?” JJ sassed, you rolling your eyes and scoffing at them both. A few beats passed before JJ spoke again. “They’re probably boning in there right now.”

“Jesus, JJ…” You breathed out.

“What? You don’t honestly believe they don’t have a thing for each other, do you?” He defended.

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” Pope offered from his place in the grass.

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Because John B’s trying to move in on Kie and you have a thing for her.”

“Listen, dude,” JJ started with his hands out in front of him. “Kie’s hot and all but she’s a kook. I don’t see her like that.”

“That’s what they all say.” You sang playfully, causing JJ to whip around to face you.

“Oh, really? And what about little miss pretty & popular?”

You visibly cringed. “Ew, don’t ever refer to me like that again.”

“You’re telling me you aren’t crushin’ on someone? No rich, polo-wearing kid swept you off your feet during you and Kie’s kook year?” He egged on.

“Knock it off, JJ.” Pope defended when he saw how your face fell at the mention of it. You hated when they brought it up. Technically Kie’s kook year was longer than yours, considering you’d joined her kook friend group when you moved to Figure Eight. That was an era of your life you’d love nothing more than to forget.

“Fine, fine,” He backed off, his hands thrown up in mock surrender as he backed some steps away. Just then, the three of your heads whipped to the dirt road behind you at the sound of police sirens. You snatched the earbud out of your ear and pocketed it, standing up from your place against the tree. They were clearly headed for the lighthouse.

“What do we do? Do we wait?” Pope asked frantically.

“We can’t, man, c’mon.” JJ urged, sprinting towards the van with you and Pope following close behind. He jumped into the driver’s seat, pulling off before you and Pope had even closed the side door completely. You could only have faith that your other two friends made it out okay.

“NEXT TIME YOU END UP AT THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE, YOU CALL ME FIRST. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, JOHN BOOKER?” Your mother reprimanded the poor boy, her heels clacking against the pavement outside of the department. You didn’t expect a call from John B after you all had run from the lighthouse, coming from the Kildare County Sheriff’s Station from John B saying he and Kiara had been “arrested”.

“Yes, ma’am.” He affirmed. By the time you’d arrived at the station, Kiara had apparently already left with her dad who’d refused to bail John B out as well, leaving the boy with only one other option. The three of you stopped in front of your mother’s car as she now turned to face the two of you.

“Shoupe already has enough to deal with. The sheriff’s office doesn’t need a couple of rowdy teenagers on their radar. I don’t know what you kids were doing up at the lighthouse that led to this, but drop it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You both blurted out simultaneously, your mother having a newfound knack for intimidating people. She didn’t hesitate to jump in her car and start the engine, giving one last look as a goodbye.

YOU WERE AT THE DOCKS WAITING ON JOHN B, SITTING ON THE WOOD AND SWINGING YOUR FEET. You’d gone with him when he realized it was time for him to work, an employee saying Ward was looking for him as soon as the pair of you had arrived. He was up on The Druther’s, Ward’s boat, talking to the man himself. You couldn’t tell what the conversation was from your seat on the docks, so you waited. It was only minutes before the boy himself came stomping down the marina, prompting you to get up and dust yourself off.

“Is everything okay-”

“I just got fired.” He blurted, not even making eye contact with you and he brushed past you. You stuttered at his passive nature, scurrying to follow behind him.

“What do you mean you just got fired?”

“Ward found out about the gear.” He scoffed, and even with his back to you as he breezed through the working people to leave the dock, you could almost feel his frustration. “I can’t believe her.” He muttered.

“Who? Who are you talking about, John B?” You soon got your answer as Sarah Cameron walked by, you and the girl making brief eye contact with a mutual snarl on both of your lips before her attention turned to John B, who she somehow saw after you.

“Hey, John B.” She greeted, her hands full of paper bags that were filled to the brim with groceries, a large, brimmed hat on the top of her head. You weren’t surprised when he continued walking as you followed without a word to the girl, but she persisted. “That’s it?” Sarah scoffed. “Not a ‘hey, how you doin’’? Not a ‘kiss my ass’?”

You didn’t expect John B to turn around and swiftly walk over to the girl, getting all in her face. With the noise of the busy marina in the back, their close conversation became hushed but it was still audible enough.

“Your secret’s safe with me? Really?” Your friend pressed the girl. “I just got fired because of you. And I know you can’t imagine that but some people need jobs, so they can eat.” Nothing shocked you more than when he smacked the bag of goods from her arms, leaving Sarah stunned as fruits rolled in front of her sandals. Her jaw slack and eyes wide.

“What the fuck?” She hollered.

“You are exactly who I thought you were, Sarah Cameron.” He reprimanded, turning and leaving behind a stunned kook girl. Although, you would’ve paid money to see that again, it was such an odd interaction.

You knew he worked on Ward’s boat so he was bound to come across her but you weren’t aware they really talked. If you didn’t know either of them, you’d assume they were a high school couple arguing out in public.

The brunette brushed past you once again, taking his time and seemingly building up the courage to break into a run.

“Wh- John B!” You called from your place in the parking lot. “John B, where are you going?!” But it was no use as he simply left you behind and continued sprinting away. You figured you’d just give him some space to himself.

YOU’D RECONNECTED WITH POPE AND JJ SOON AFTER BEING LEFT IN THE DUST BY JOHN B, meeting them on the docks in The Cut. The three of you had been there for some hours, you helping Pope fix a generator while JJ smoked unhelpfully to the side when John B pulled up in The Twinkie.

He honked, beckoning the three of you into the van with a finger and none of you questioned what was happening or where you were going as you hopped into the rickety vehicle. You were mildly pissed about being left at The Marina but you got in nonetheless.

THE SUN HAD SET AND YOU ALL STILL HADN’T ARRIVED YET. John B briefly explained the destination and plan but you half-listened. You’d been driving for a long time, picking up Kiara along the way, with no clue as to where the five of you were going.

“Do you mind if I sit this one out?” JJ asked tiredly. “It’s been a long, weird day…”

“Look, I know I was wrong about the lighthouse.” John B acknowledged. “And wrong about everything else. But I was right about one thing — my dad is trying to tell me something.”

Just then you pulled up to a graveyard, the five of you piling out of the van with a flashlight each in your hand. “This place is scary.” Kie voiced. “John B, what are we doing?”

“You know how you’re trying to remember a song but you can’t remember who sings it?” He started. “Redfield. This whole time, I thought it was a place.” He explained as you all followed him further into the mess of graves and tombstones. “But it’s not.” He held the lantern in his hand up once you all stopped in front of a tomb, one of the tallest ones in the yard, revealing “REDFIELD” engraved in the stone. “It’s a person. My great-great-grandmother, Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name.” He spoke longingly, looking up at the stone letters. “Help me with the door. C’mon.”

Pope stepped forward as the remaining three of you flashed your lights in the pair’s direction as they attempted and failed to push the tomb door open.

“Are you pushing?” Pope said to the brunette.

“Yes, I’m pushing.” John B strained out. Then JJ was jumping into help but even with his addition, the boys had no luck opening the door. They all jumped back when a snake hissed, peeking its head out from a crack in the stone structure.

“Woah! That’s a moccasin, alright” JJ started, jumping back almost cartoonistically. “Ye-old cottonmouth. Death in tall grass. Roof! Roof!” JJ started barking at the snake. Sometimes, you questioned his sanity.

“JJ! Shut up!” You warned the erratic blonde.

“You’re gonna wake the dead.” Pope slapped him on the shoulder, grimacing.

“Dude, they’re afraid of dogs. Everybody knows that.” He breathed out, straightening himself back out.

“Look, John,” Pope sighed, turning his attention back to John B. “We’re not gonna get in there, it’s not budging. We should probably just go.”

You were examining the tomb carefully, flashlight trailing the structure up and down before you noticed something. “I think I can get through.”

“...What?” John B spoke.

“You think you’re gonna fit through that hole?” Pope asked, worried.

“I’ll do it.” You reassured them, ignoring their concerns. “Just help me up.” They all shuffled to help you up — Kiara and John B holding the vines away and to the sides while JJ and Pope intertwined their hands for you to use as a human step-stool.

“What am I looking for?” You inquired, eyes fleeting to John B.

“You’ll know when you see it.” Your hands slapped your thighs. Helpful, you thought, but you didn’t ask anymore questions. You put your flashlight in between your teeth, like a dog carrying a bone before laying a hand on each of the boys shoulders, you put your foot over their connected hands and boosted yourself up.

It was a tight squeeze but you made your way through, landing on your feet and removing the flashlight from your teeth. It took your eyes a minute to adjust, staring at the walls of the spooky space.

“You alive in there?” JJ called.

“Alive and kickin’.” You called back, aiming the flashlight everywhere, scanning over everything. But the space was much bigger than you thought and your one flashlight didn’t seem to be enough. “I need more light, please.”

“Gotcha’.” John B said, pushing his arm holding the lantern through the crack of the wall, illuminating the space by tenfold. And that light was just what you needed.

“Oh my God…” You breathed out. John B may not have led you all on a goose-chase after all.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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janeyseymour · 4 months

Text

Love Thy Neighbor

saw a prompt from @givethispromptatry

So... here we are... as usual, not edited in the slightest and hoping it's alright!

WC: ~3.45k

After your (not so amicable) split from your dirtbag of a husband, you packed your things and moved back to Philly. It was the city that held a special place in your heart, you knew the area like the back of your hand, and your parents still resided in the place that you grew up. It only made sense now that as a single mother to a six year old girl, you would move to be closer to your parents so they could help bear the load of being a working mom. Elizabeth, but you usually stuck with the nickname Ellie, was a rather easy child. But moving from across the country and leaving the life that she knew and loved behind was rather hard for her- and it was even harder knowing that Mom and Dad had split, and that Dad didn’t necessarily want anything to do with either of you anymore.

So, after about a month of living with your parents, making trips from Utah to Philly and back multiple times to gather all of your things from the house, show the house, sell the house, and deal with the divorce lawyers… the two of you have finally found a little apartment that should be an appropriate size for the two of you while still staying within your budget.

You had been granted full custody, not that your ex would fight you on that, but you also managed to get him to fork over a decent amount of child support- and you would need it. You still haven’t found a job in Philly, and while little jobs here and there were helpful (you mostly did DoorDash on your bike, Ellie’s bike trailer attached so you could bring her along and hold the food), you knew that you absolutely needed to find a job- and quick.

In between attempting to unpack all of your things, get Ellie settled, looking for a new job, and Doordashing, you haven’t been able to take a breath at all. You don’t even know who your neighbors are or what they look like. And you feel a little guilty at that, but none of them have stopped by to introduce themselves to you either. You remember though, that Philly folks aren’t nearly as kind as the people that you had surrounded yourself with in Utah… so them not introducing themselves to you isn’t the most unheard of thing in the world.

Today was brutal. You had signed Ellie up to start school next week, searched and applied for a few teaching jobs (one of which would be at your daughter’s school if you could land it), gone grocery shopping, and then done a nice load of Doordashing with your daughter in tow because your parents couldn’t watch her.

The little girl had missed out on the nap that she usually takes after a day at school, so she’s absolutely miserable the entire time that you bike around. You had tried to placate her by bringing along her iPad so she could watch videos while you navigated the city, but she wanted nothing to do with it. All she did the entire time was whine about the fact that she wanted to go home and cuddle.

After hours of delivering food, you’re satisfied with the amount of money that you made today.

“Okay, little love,” you turn and look at your daughter. “Are you ready for home?”

“I’ve been ready,” she grumbles, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

You give her a soft smile. “I know, sweet girl… but Momma has to make money so we can stay here.”

“Why can’t we just stay in Utah where I like it?”

You bite your lip. “I want to be closer to my parents, baby… and this way you get to see Gram and Pop more than you used to. I think if you give Philly a chance, you’ll learn to love it like I do.”

She huffs a little.

Deciding that you probably aren’t going to get much more out of her, you turn and start biking in the direction of your apartment. As you’re doing so, you silently thank God that you’re in good shape. At least if anything comes out of this, your legs are going to look incredible.

You chain your bike to the bike stand in the garage of your apartment complex, only to remember that you had forgotten what you needed to make dinner tonight. With regret, you begin to unchain it- much to Ellie’s dismay.

“Momma!” she stomps her foot.

“I know,” you say softly, but you gesture for her to get back into her trailer.

“No!”

You take a shaky breath. You really don’t want to have to put up with a trademarked Ellie tantrum, but it seems that’s what is in store for you tonight. “Love bug, please. We just have to go to the store, and then we can come home, I’ll make dinner, and we can cuddle.”

“I want to cuddle now!”

“Well, we have to fill that belly of yours with food first,” you poke her stomach gently, trying to elicit a giggle out of the little girl.

It absolutely does the opposite of that. She bats your hand away, and you raise an eyebrow before standing back up straight. “Ellie, you know we do not try to hit.”

“I don’t care,” she tells you defiantly.

A redhead that lives in the building comes into the garage, eyeing you and your child. You hope she isn’t judging you for the fit your child is currently in the middle of having. She climbs into her car and rolls down her windows, but she doesn’t quite pull out yet. She glances at her phone instead.

You blow out a breath, eyes closed and trying to ground yourself, before looking at her again. “Elizabeth, we need to get food for dinner. All you have to do is sit in your trailer while I bike us to the store.”

“Why can’t I stay home?!”

“Because you are six and too little to stay home by yourself.”

“This isn’t home!” you daughter stomps her foot and bursts into tears.

The woman that lives in your complex is still sitting in her car, and you know she can hear your daughter’s and your words. Why hasn’t she pulled out yet?

You soften immediately, crouching back down and opening your arms for her to hug you if she needs to. She does. She immediately curls into your arms and clings to you. “I know, love bug. I know it doesn’t feel like home right now… but no matter what, Momma can’t leave you in the apartment alone. So, I need you to get into your trailer so we can head to the store. The faster we get there, the faster we can come back and curl up on the couch together, okay?”

Your daughter clings to you a little tighter, but you feel her nod into your shoulder.

The woman pulls out of her spot and gives you and your daughter a small wave as she drives past.

You hold your little girl until she begins to pull away, and then you wipe her tears with the pads of your thumbs. “I love you, Ellie.”

She climbs back into her seat before mumbling back the same sentiment.

You’re able to do your quick run to the grocery store, and Ellie refuses to walk but also refuses to sit in the cart like she usually does. So, you carry her on your hip the entirety of your walk through the aisles. As you’re strolling up and down, you see the redhead that you had seen in the garage earlier, and she gives you a questioning look at the sight of you carrying your daughter when she could be in the cart that you’re pushing along.

You just give her a little shrug and continue on your way. Ellie is getting heavier and heavier by the minute though, so you pick up the pace and are out of the store.

You make your way back to the complex, bags around your arms and in the trailer with your daughter. When you lock your bike to the rack, you look in, and the little girl is fast asleep. Shit.

“Ellie,” you crouch down and whisper. “Sweetheart, we’re back. You have to wake up and carry the bread and juice in for me.”

The little girl stirs slightly before repositioning herself and closing her eyes again.

“Baby girl,” you say softly. “Please wake up for Momma.”

You see headlights, and the car that has the redheaded woman in it pulls in. Great. You get to make a fool out of yourself in front of her yet again.

Not being able to hide your stress, you decide to grab a few of the lighter bags, put them on your arms, and then wiggle Ellie out of the trailer. She’s asleep on your shoulder as soon as she’s in your hold. You silently take a moment to pray that your produce won’t get stolen in the few minutes it will take you to get Ellie upstairs before making your way into the building.

The elevator is broken. Of course it is. So you’re forced to carry three bags of groceries and your six year old daughter up four flights of steps. By the end of it, you’re wheezing. You manage to unlock your door before gently setting her on the couch. With a sigh and a wipe of your now sweaty brow, you lock the door behind you and begin to head down to get the rest of your groceries.

There’s that woman again… and she lives in the apartment across the hall. You give her a friendly nod of the head and a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes before you continue your trek back down.

After your second trip up, your body is entirely exhausted. You hardly have it in you to cook dinner, but you dragged Ellie out, so you have to make the meal.

You’re able to wake her with the scent of her favorite meal, but as soon as she’s finished, she’s curling up against you and falling asleep.

After your daughter lays on top of you for quite some time, you know you have to put her in her own room. So, you silently make your way into her bedroom and tuck her in. With a quick kiss to the forehead and a soft “I love you”, you make your way back out to the kitchen.

Ellie is out for the night- she was exhausted halfway through your DoorDash shift- so you grab a glass and fill it with wine. The sweet drink helps to melt away some of the stress as you clean the dishes and settle on the couch for some much needed adult time.

That time is interrupted though when you hear a few rough knocks rattling your apartment. Instinctively, you grab the baseball bat that you keep behind the couch and make your way to the door.

Who the hell could be at your door at this hour? You don’t know anyone here, it wouldn’t be your parents… Could it be your ex-husband? No. He’s out in California with the woman he was cheating on you with. So who the hell is it?

“Who is it?” you yell, gripping the bat so tightly your knuckles turn white.

“You the woman that just moved in?” a gruff voice calls back.

You move a bit closer as you call, “What’s it to you?!”

“Saw you have a kid. Was wondering if you needed help with anything. You look real stressed.”

At that, you move closer to the door and glance out the peephole. It’s the woman that you ran into in the garage and at the grocery store. You open the door just slightly, still unsure of her.

“I ain’t gonna bite,” she teases. “You looked really stressed, so I thought I’d come over, introduce myself, and see if you needed any help.”

You lessen the grip on your bat as you open the door a little further. You take in the woman’s full appearance now that you aren’t trying to calm your daughter and aren’t terrified of being mugged. She’s… she’s really pretty.

You don’t realize that you haven’t say anything back until she’s waving a hand in front of your face. “Hello?”

You shake your head to bring yourself back to the present. “Hi. Sorry… today’s just been… a lot.”

“I could gather that. Can I help?”

You shrug. “I think I’m good at the moment, but I appreciate it.”

“Well,” the redhead purses her lips. “You ever need anything, I’m just across the hall.”

She turns to walk back to her apartment, but she stops when you call a gentle, “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I uh, never got your name,” you say quietly.

“Schemmenti. Melissa.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smile at her. “I’m Y/N, and the little girl you saw me with is my daughter, Ellie.”

She looks at you thoughtfully before nodding. She heads back to her apartment after that.

You run into her a lot in the following few days after that encounter. She sees you haul Ellie with you pretty much everywhere, and she has quite a few questions that she just can’t seem to work out on her own. So, one day after you’ve brought up Ellie and the groceries, she can’t help but knock on your door.

“Who is it?” you call, not bothering to move from your place on the couch with your daughter.

“Melissa,” the familiar voice calls back.

You sigh before making your way over to the door. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Just checkin’ in on you,” the redhead says. “I saw you hauling up Ellie and your groceries.”

“All good,” you chuckle. “Just about to make dinner for the two of us.”

“You haven’t had dinner yet?” She looks concerned.

“About to get the microwave pasta going now,” you admit sheepishly. “I was gonna have it made earlier, but El decided that she would die without Momma cuddles… and who am I to deny my sweet girl of such a request?”

“When’s her bedtime?”

“In about an hour,” you tell her. “Why?”

“Let me make youse two dinner,” she offers. “I’m a damn good cook, and I can make a pasta dish way better than the packaged sh-stuff.”

“Oh,” you say softly. “You don’t have to do that.”

“No, please,” she argues gently. “I insist.”

“O-oh,” you rub your collarbone nervously. “Are you sure?”

“I haven’t had dinner either,” she lies through her teeth. “So let me make us all a meal while you relax and hold your daughter.”

You finally manage to nod- she does not seem like the type of woman who would lose an argument.

“Just give me a couple minutes to gather some ingredients, and I’ll come back over?”

You smile in lieu of an answer. You close the door gently once she’s back in her apartment before making your way to Ellie.

“Sweet girl, our neighbor, Miss Melissa is coming over for dinner tonight. Can you be the polite little girl I raised?”

She nods, but she reaches for you. You pull her into your lap and hold her close until the redhead knocks on your door again. You pull yourself and your daughter off the couch to go open the door.

In her arms are a few different cans, some produce, and pasta that has clearly been homemade.

“Baby,” you tease the ends of you daughter’s locks gently. “This is Miss Melissa. Can you say hi to her for me?”

“H-hi,” Ellie manages to squeak out. “You’re really pretty.”

Melissa smiles at her, and when she speaks her voice has turned to butter. It’s much softer than when she’s speaking to you. “Thank you, hun. I’m Melissa. It’s so nice to meet you, Ellie.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I’ve been talking to your momma,” the woman chuckles gently.

The little girl’s lips form into an ‘O’ shape, and you can’t help the gentle kiss that you plant on her temple.

“Miss Melissa is going to make us dinner,” you tell your daughter softly. “Does that sound alright?”

She nods against your neck.

“I’m gonna make spaghetti,” the redhead tells Ellie. “That sound okay?”

“You might become her new favorite person,” you joke. “Little girl eats so many noodles, she’s gonna turn into one someday.”

You girl giggles against you. “Nah uh,” she scrunches her nose and makes a funny face at you. “That’s not possible, Momma.”

“I know, my love. I’m just teasing,” you chuckle before returning your attention to the woman in your doorway. “Well, come in, come in. Make yourself at home.”

She carries her things to the kitchen before starting her prep. The way that she gets everything done so efficiently is mind blowing to you, and you can’t help but watch in awe as you continue to hold Ellie.

“Sit down, hun,” Melissa instructs softly as she stirs her sauce. “Take a load off. I got this.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any help? Maybe a glass of wine for your troubles?”

“I won’t say no to a glass, but you absolutely are not helping. I got it.”

You pour her a glass and offer it to her before quietly sitting down and continuing to watch as she makes her way through your kitchen effortlessly.

Dinner is placed in front of you before you know it, and Ellie is nearly wiggling with glee at the plate in front of her. She dives in, and her eyes light up.

“This is so yummy!” your little girl cheers as she takes another forkful to her mouth.

“I’m glad you like it, sweetheart,” Melissa smiles. She gestures for you to take a bite as well, and when you do, you can’t help the small sigh that comes out of your mouth.

“Wow,” you say softly. “This is… incredible.”

“Thanks,” she chuckles as she take a bite of her own creation. “It’s a family recipe.”

Dinner is pleasant. The woman does her best to ask Ellie all about herself, to which your little girl answers delightfully. She’s even able to ask Melissa a few questions of her own. But once her plate is cleared, Ellie climbs into your lap and lets out a yawn as she fiddles with the chain around your neck.

“Is my little girl tired?” you coo softly.

She nods against you.

“Why don’t you start getting ready for bed, sweetness? Momma will be in in a few minutes to say goodnight,” you tell her. She nods again. “Well, off you go. But first, what do you say to Miss Melissa?”

“Thank you,” your daughter smiles brightly before climbing off your lap. Surprisingly, she makes her way over to the redhead’s side of the table and hugs her. Melissa wraps her arms around the little girl gently.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Get some good sleep tonight, yeah?”

Ellie nods before wandering down the hall to get to her bedroom, leaving you with Melissa.

“Thank you for dinner tonight,” you say softly.

“Any time.”

“No, seriously. I usually cook, but I was not feeling it tonight. So, thank you.”

“I’m sure. I saw you biking all around today, starting with this morning when I was heading to work and ending with you coming back from the store.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’m a busy woman.”

“Where are you always biking anyway?”

“I’m in between jobs at the moment, so I’ve just been DoorDashing with El until she starts school next week,” you sigh. “Hopefully I get a job soon… I need all the money I can get to keep this place and give El everything she needs or wants.”

“You’re doing great,” Melissa tells you honestly. “She adores you.”

“She likes you too,” you say quietly. “You’re really good with her.”

“Well, I have some experience with children,” she chuckles quietly. “I guess I should head out so you can get the little one to bed and get some sleep yourself, but I’ll see you around?”

“Next time, dinner’s on me,” you tell her.

“We’ll see about that one,” she laughs as she heads for the door. “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to holler.”

“Thank you, Melissa. Goodnight.”

You see her out, and as you close the door behind her, you sigh. You lean against it for a second, a little confused with the way you’re feeling after this diiner.

Maybe this new neighbor will become a close friend of yours… maybe something else. Only time will tell. But for now, you have to get back to your daughter.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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guccifrog · 4 months

Text

WRONG NUMBER P16

matt sturniolo x f!reader

silly lil part 😛

y/n pov ☆

"hi, bitch!"I giggled as I walked into the familiar hospital room. It had been exactly two weeks since Matt woke up, but it felt like only yesterday. It took him at least three days to remember everything before the accident.

The familiar scent of antiseptic and flowers filled the air, and his bed was neatly made, his favorite stuffed animal propped up against his pillow.

"Miss me?"I asked as I shut the door behind me as I jokingly blew him a kiss. He glanced up at me, rolling his eyes but a small smile played on his lips. The IV in his arm was now gone, replaced by a thin line of Band-Aid, and he looked healthier than ever.

I took a seat at his bedside, placed the bag of food on the small table, and studied his face, marveling at how quickly he had healed. The bruises had faded, leaving only a faint reminder of the accident that had nearly taken him away from us.

"How are you?" I asked him, my voice gentle. "Feeling any better?" I leaned in, touching his arm lightly. He smiled up at me, his eyes meeting mine.

"I'm doing alright, I guess"He paused, looking away for a moment before turning back to me. "It's weird, you know? I feel... different. Like I can't shake this feeling that something's not quite right."

I frowned, concerned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He hesitated for a moment before answering. "It's just... I keep thinking about the accident, and how close I came to dying. And now that I'm here, I feel like I should be grateful, but..." He trailed off, searching for the words.

I nodded, understanding. "It's a lot to process. Sometimes it takes time to adjust to big changes like that."

He nodded, looking away for a moment before turning back to look at me with a smirk " When did you get so wise ?" He asked teasingly. I rolled my eyes and crossed my hands over my chest "I've always been wise, you just never noticed."

He smiled and closed his eyes, resting his head back on the pillow. "So what's on the menu tonight?" He asked, changing the subject. "Oh, I got you some fried rice, chicken nuggets, and vegetable soup," I said, excited.

"I can't eat all of that." He protested weakly.

"Yes, you can." I insisted, handing him the plastic utensils. "You need to keep your strength up. Besides, I know you love fried rice Matty boy." I winked.

"I hate you" he sighed, faking a frown as he picked up a chicken nugget and popped it into his mouth.

"Aww I love you too pookie" I giggled as Matt glared at me through his half-lidded eyes.

I pulled out my phone as Matt continued to eat, scrolling through social media and occasionally glancing up at him out of the corner of my eye. The silence between us was comfortable, and I found myself relaxing more and more as the minutes ticked by.

"psst...y/n....Y/N!"

"what- OUCH! Matt what the fuck?!" I rubbed my forehead in pain as he smacked me with a fork.

"You know, you really should learn how to pay attention." He said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Anyways I'm bored"He sighed.

I glanced at the time on my phone and shrugged. "Well, you've been up for a while now. Maybe you should take a nap?" I suggested, he shook his head. "what do you want me to do then?"I asked and he shrugged.

"I don't know, entertain me?" he replied with a grin. "Tell me a story or something."

"Alright, alright," I sighed, racking my brain for a good story, but I suddenly got a better one idea. "You know what? I've got something better" He raised his eyebrows curiously.

I pulled out my phone again, quickly scrolling to find the familiar App I was looking for. Once I found it, I looked up at Matt smirking" I'm gonna read you a story" I cleared my throat and began to read:

"he smiled softly at her, his eyes twinkling. "The truth is...I've always loved you y/n, my girl, It has always been you. I just never had the courage to tell you because I'm a pussy. You mean the world to me, and I don't want to lose you" Dominic paused staring into her eyes, trying to find the right words to say. He never thought this moment would cum, but he was glad it did. He wanted nothing more than to be with her, to cherish her, and to love-"

"what the fuck are you reading" Matt interrupted me, I glared at him "I'm reading you a Dominic Fike fanfiction motherfucker duh, now shut up and listen." I rolled my eyes and continued.

"She stared at him, her eyes filling with tears. "Dominic..." she whispered his name, her voice cracking. "I... I love you too." Tears streamed down her face as she reached out and took his hand in hers. "I've always loved you too, honey bunny cream pie sugar boo I thought-"

Matt snorted, interrupting me again. "Okay, you know what? fuck you" I said as I shut my phone. He grinned. "Then you're going to miss out on the rest of the story." I sighed, as I turned my head to the side refusing to look at him.

"come on, I wanna know what happened next" he whined, batting his eyelashes. But I refused to let him win. "No." I inhaled, trying to ignore his pleading look. But suddenly I felt his warm hand grabbing mine. I glanced at him, taken aback as he brought my hand up to his lips and softly kissed my knuckles. "Pleeeease?" he begged.

I felt my stomach flutter as his lips brushed against my skin. My face grew hot and I could feel myself blushing. The way he was looking at me. It made me weak.

"Fine," I sighed, knowing I was defeated. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to focus on the story. "Well...," I began, but I couldn't get the words out. I felt his hand squeeze mine gently, encouraging me to continue. "They kissed," I blurted out, my face still flushed. "And they never stopped."

"wow," Matt said unimpressed, his hand still holding mine, his thumb drawing circles on my hand. "what's next? they fucked?"He giggled.

I gasped, trying not to laugh at his comment. "Shut up!" He giggled, not taking me seriously at all.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you read stuff like that at this point," He grinned wider.

"Matthew Bernard!"

"Yes panties girl?"

taglist ☆

@mattestrella @chrisfavoritepepsi @sunsetsturniolos @littlebookworm803 @sturniozo @sturniolooooo @athaliahxoxo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ev3rgreenxtrees @nonamegirlxsturniolo @crybabycat1 @mooniethesimp31 @ducksturniolo @ifilwtmfc @pepsiimaxx @sleepysturnss @lustfulslxt @ilovemattsworld @hrt-attack @flowerxbunnie @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @secret-sturniolo @iluvmeeen @that-general-simp @swangelss @familynotfandom @fuckshitslover @styles-sturniolo @lvr-111 @opheliaofficial07 @kiarastromboli @hearts4chriss @braindead4l @sturniolosreads @mattsturnzzz09 @itssophiasstuff @mayhem-72 @b2cute @buckys-celestes @4iriss @bitterspoons

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chibipeachu · 6 months

Text

Pretty Songbird || Aleksander M.

A/N: I watched snakes and songbirds and had this ideas stuck in my head ever since i saw it last week, idk if it's gonna be a series, if you have any ideas pls tell me!!

WC: 1311 Warning: Fem!Reader, the moon summoner trope, not proof read so i take credit for mispelling or mistakes..

Alina sighed as herself and Mal walked into a busy club to get away from their pursuers.

“It should be too crowded to notice us in this crowd, just keep the hood on.” Mal whispered to Alina as they moved closer to the stage where others stood, waiting for the performer.

“Want something?”

Alina turned and nodded as Mal gave a quick nod before walking to the bartender.

As alina went to stand near a corner of the crowded club she bumped into another young girl. “Aww, sorry..” “Ah, i’m sorry.” They both apologized to one another.

“It’s alright, just a throbbing but it’ll go away with a drink.” The girl brushed it off and gave alina a smile.

“You look familiar..” Alina felt her heart drop, as the expression the girl made was of realization. “You’re her aren’t you?” Alina tensed up and lifted her hand in case she need to summon to stop the girl from doing something.

“It’s alright, your safe here, i just recommend the further booth over there if you don’t want to draw attention..” Alina followed the girls direction and saw an empty booth and nodded at her. “Thank you..?” She waited for a name.

“Y/n, i’m a performer here tonight.” She smiled and pointed towards the stage were drunks and many excited people stood waiting.

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

People whispered to one another as they noticed the brooding, darkling who was accompanied with other grisha, they all had looks of distaste on their faces as they scanned the club.

Alesksander’s attention jumped as two women in front of him talked about the performer.

“Is it true she can summon?”

“Rumors say she can but was sick during her testing and got dismissed.”

Before any of them could provide aleksander with information, a young woman, dressed in a loose blouse and what looked like the first army pants.

“Based on all the chatter I could hear from back there, I assume it’s about myself?” You grinned as you scanned the crowd.

A mixed of positive responses came from the busy club.

Aleksander noticed how each of his grisha searched the crowd.

“Aww stop it, i’m blushing!” You playfully waved to the crowd before turning to the band who waited for your sign to play.

As the band started up, you danced around the stage a bit.

“So if you don’t know, i wrote this many, many, many years ago when i was stuck as a showstopper for tow men on each side of the fold, one more then the other..” You referenced to your pants before raising an eyebrow.

Aleksander wasn’t surprised, zlatan of course wouldn’t share a summoner with anyone, especially the king and aleksander.

“Can’t take my charm,

Can’t take my humor,

Can’t take my wealth, cause it’s just a rumor.

Nothing you can take was ever with keeping.

No nothing you can take was every worthing keeping.”

As alina listened to your singing she glanced around the room and froze as she spotted aleksander and the other grisha in the club.

Alina subtly nudged mal who popped up and ushered alina through the crowd to leave quickly.

As you took a breath, you felt yourself stop for a moment, as you took note of the dark eyes of the darkling.

“Thinking you’re so fine,

Thinking you could have mine.

Thinking in control, thinking you can change me, maybe rearrange me.

Think again if that’s your goal.”

You stomped your boots at each sentence, making the crowd cheer.

Through the small break of your singing, you held strong eye contact with the darkling, from what zlatan had told you, he was saving you from the general who had “tossed your abilities aside” those were the only words you believed from the first general, you had tried to get test when you were a teen but got reject when you said you could summon.

“Can’t take my sass,

Can’t take my talking.

You can kiss my ass,

Then keep on walking!

Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping,

Oh, nothing you can take was ever worth keeping.” You stared him down while continuing to sing.

Zoya scoffed as she followed your and aleksander’s gaze to one another.

Aleksander looked away from you to look at the sour expression on her face.

“She’s insulting you to your face..”

“I know..” He responded, his eyes moving back onto you which your eyes were closed as you finished the song.

“Nothing you can take from is worth dirt,

Take it cause i’d give it free, it won’t hurt.

Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping..”

As you finished the crowd cheered making you grin and gave a bow before walking to your bandmate and motioned for behind the stage before exiting, they band continued to play as you left.

Aleksander hadn’t noticed zoya rambling on how disrespectful you were, he piped up as you left the stage. “I’ll be back.” He told zoya before walking outside the club.

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

You quietly exited from the building and leaned against the building.

You were now screwed, after many blissful years away from zlatan and kirigan it had to come crashing down.

Being upset you got up and kicked the tins in the back alley of the club.

“That was quite the show..” You jumped at the general’s voice.

“General kirigan..” You greeted, walking to pick up the fallen over tins.

“You worked under zlatan?” He questioned, making you chuckle.

“What made it obvious? My clothes or the song?” You asked, putting the lid back on before turning to his figure.

“He rarely sent letters to the palace grounds to let us know of anything.”

You scoffed, knowing where he was trying to lead the conversation.

“Bullshit, don’t play like you never knew about me, I stood in front of grisha testers and was denied a retest because of my ability, each test is shown in front of you, in your lap to see the newest grisha!” You walked closer to him as you went on.

“Nice try to play that card but the only words I ever believed from zlatan was that you tossed me aside.” You brushed past the darkling and went to enter the club again but was stopped by him grabbing your wrist in a tight grasp and pulling you back to face him.

“You could train in the little palace with others, be with your own kind.” He tried to convince you.

“You missed that train where I wanted to fit in with others badly, I will not be trained to replace your little sun summoner.” You ripped your wrist form his grasp and walked back into the club.

Aleksander stood by himself in the alley, shocked you had decline his offer.

After he collected himself he walked into the club to collect his grisha.

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

Weeks had passed since the incident at the club.

Aleksander hadn’t been expecting a meeting with the king, he was confused at the sudden arrangement.

“Tsar.” Aleksander greeted as he entered his war room.

“General.” King Pyotr greeted, letting aleksander step in further before continuing.

“Is there a reason you called upon me?” Aleksander questioned.

“When you were visiting ryevost, did you happened to see this girl?” The king unfolded a drawing of the singer he had a conversation with weeks ago.

“She’s rumored to be a moon summoner, if anything, everyone’s after her. And i believe she’ll do good here in the little palace under your control.” He continued, aleksander studied the poster.

“I’ll send grisha to find her…” The king smiled and nodded in aleksander’s direction before getting up and leaving.

Once gone, aleksander picked up the paper to admire your beauty.

“I’ll find you, songbird..” He muttered as he read over the paper.

Y/N Y/L/N - GRISHA - WANTED BY KING PYOTR AND GENERAL KIRIGAN.

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x you #the darkling x reader #the darkling x you #darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan x you #aleksander morozova fluff #shadow and bone x reader

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panda-writes-kpop · 3 days

Text

two's company, but three's a crowd?

a/n: happy birthday to my lovely friend across the pond @foolish-sparrow!!! hope you have the loveliest day ever because you deserve your love. also, happy pride month everyone! I have a special fic that's been rotting in my brain that I want to release for pride month, but I also want to work on requests this month, so we'll just have to see what happens :)

tw: 'madre' is used once because it's my nickname for Sparrow but the fic is gender-neutral otherwise, Paladin! Reader that reads like a self-insert character, reader gets wasted as do the love interests, hangover symptoms including nausea, this author hates love triangles so your love interests are love interests and we all live happily ever after in a poly relationship <3

related fics: gimme all your lovin' (all your hugs and kisses too!), look at me! look at me!, sorry for party rockin'!, we're never getting back together (like ever?)

summary: You wake up in a random hotel room with no idea where Yunjin or Kazuha are. Last night's memories are blurry, but with the help of those two girls, you manage to put the pieces back together of what exactly happened at that party.

♡ Masterlist ♡

On a scale from “crystal-clear” to “holy fuck how much did I drink”, you’d rate your memory of last night as a slightly blurry highlight reel of the best parts.

This, of course, couldn’t explain why you woke up in a strange hotel room with little to your name beside your phone and the clothes on your body.

Your phone. You should check that, maybe someone’s searching for you?

Not a single phone call. Were your friends not even slightly concerned about you?

A single text pops up on your phone.

Katie: Text me when you’re headed home! I’ll save some breakfast for you. <3

Well, at least the youngest Paladin cares for you. Considering that she’s sweet to anything that breathes, maybe you shouldn’t take it as too much of a compliment.

Your phone pings again.

Katie: Love you lots, mi madre! Hope you had fun with Yunjin and Kazuha last night after you left the party.

You certainly weren’t in the apartment that Yunjin and Kazuha shared with three other girls, and hell, you weren’t sure if you were in the same city that you started the night in.

Your phone has a mapping system of sorts, right? Maybe you can turn on the WiFi and get a signal to your phone.

You’re thoroughly disappointed, albeit not surprised at this point, that this hotel doesn’t have WiFi or any signal for your phone. It’s almost as if the world doesn’t want you to figure out where you’re going…

The only tool you have is your memory at this point. It can’t hurt to go over everything, right?

“Yunjin, we have a guest!” Kazuha loudly announces as you knock on the door. “Can you get it? I’m busy putting on make-up.”

“Why do I always have to get the door?” Yunjin whines before opening the door. “Hey, you came over! Glad to see you here.”

Yunjin lets you in before closing the door.

“None of the other girls are in right now. Sakura and Chaewon are having a girl’s night, and Eunchae mentioned something about a study date.” Yunjin laughs to herself. “Kids, they grow up so fast.”

“Tell me about it,” You laugh along with Yunjin, “Katie’s the one organizing the party. Luckily, since Ryujin invited everyone and their mother, I slipped an invitation in for you and Kazuha.”

“Katie won’t be mad?”

“Not at all, since the party is a cover to get a few of her friends together with their crushes.” You roll your eyes at Katie’s schemes, which will unfortunately work because it’s Katie.

“Sounds like Katie, alright.” Yunjin lightly grabs your arm before leading you to the kitchen. “C’mon, I made some drinks for us.”

“Already? We’re not even at the party yet-” You try to protest, but Kazuha gasps when she spots the three red solo cups.

“I’m down for a couple drinks if you are.” Kazuha enters the room and slides to your left as Yunjin expectantly stares at you.

So much for your whole lecture towards Katie about avoiding peer pressure when it came to alcohol and other substances.

“As long as we get an Uber to the party, we can have a couple of drinks.” You say as the two girls happily cheer.

You didn’t get too drunk at their apartment, but you definitely weren’t comfortable driving. After calling a ride, nothing of note happened - except for the fact that you were squished between Yunjin and Kazuha in the backseat of the car. You were trying to hide your nervousness from the both of them, but neither of them could resist the urge to tease you a bit.

“Do we both make you nervous, or is it just one of us?” Yunjin smiles before scooting closer to you. “Come on, you can tell me~”

“Yunjin, knock it off, you’re making them nervous!” Kazuha reaches over and lightly slaps Yunjin.

Yunjin rubs her arm in pain as Kazuha’s hand returns to her, but not before lightly grazing your knee.

When you look at Kazuha, she winks at you before softly laughing.

You’re sure that your nerves are more apart than ever - maybe spontaneous combustion wasn’t such a bad fate, after all?

Speaking of, Kazuha enters the hotel room, causing you to sigh in relief.

“Kazuha, you have no idea how happy I am to see you-”

“-Where are we?” Kazuha looks at you in confusion. “I thought you’d know, but apparently you don’t.”

“What gave it away? The fact that I reek of booze?” You joke as she walks over and peeks out of the other side of the room. “Have you seen Yunjin?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you.” Kazuha slides into the single office chair in the middle of the room as you lay on the single king bed in the room. “What happened last night?”

“I’ve got bits and pieces from last night - maybe we can compare and see what we remember?”

Getting to the party was eventful, but the party itself was nothing to scoff at. You had arrived a bit late, something that Katie would normally scold you for, but the party seemed to be roaring out of control.

To your left was the kitchen, where you see a nervous Katie running around with dishes and ingredients in her hands. Dami dutifully stands to the side, occasionally holding a dish and stirring something, while watching Katie work her magic.

You can hear King and Neon talking with a group of friends in the living room - perhaps it was time for a Boomer reunion? Yet again, you’d probably start an argument with one of the boomers, which would probably put Katie more on edge than before.

You couldn’t chat with Mala, who was currently studying at home with Tzuyu. Katie had invited them over, but you weren’t sure that they would make an appearance tonight.

“Hey, I’m going to grab something to eat. Are you guys hungry?” Yunjin asks as the three of you head towards the kitchen.

“I could eat.” You shrug as Kazuha nods.

“Hey, Katie-” You call out as Katie rushes past you.

“Everything you can eat is on the kitchen island. Grab a plate and feel free to eat.” Katie says before mumbling to herself, “Chili powder, lemon juice, tomatoes, avocados-”

“Is she going to be okay?” Kazuha asks as Dami hands the three of you plates, silverware, and glasses.

“I think so, but this may be her breaking point.” Dami looks over to the counter that is stacked with half-full and empty liquor bottles. “I still haven’t told her that Ryujin and her friends have finished off most of the bottled and canned drinks.”

“Have Neon and Siyeon find the drinks. I’m too stressed to do any sort of matchmaking, so that’ll work for now.” Katie rushes back towards the sink to grab a spoon. “Oh, and I’m not ignoring you three, I promise. I’m just a little bit out of it, and I hope you can understand why.”

“At least she’s honest about it.” Yunjin mutters as Kazuha rolls her eyes.

“Be nice to the girl, she’s obviously trying her best. Thank you for the food, Katie, I appreciate your efforts.” Kazuha compliments Katie, who instantly lights up.

“Really? Thank you!” She quickly side-hugs Kazuha before continuing to organize the kitchen and mix dishes together.

“You’re welcome.” She smiles before looking over to you and Yunjin, who look ready to devour her if she doesn’t move out of the way. “We should grab some food and get to the party.”

“Katie’s really something, huh?” Kazuha laughs to herself for a moment. “She’s a sweetheart - no wonder everyone gets along with her.”

“Yeah, she’s something, alright.” You smile softly. “But after that, we sat down and had food until Neon and Siyeon came back with drinks.”

“I’m surprised you remember that. You and King got into a bit of a drinking competition, and well… both of you were losers in the end.” Kazuha explains.

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“You couldn’t answer a basic multiplication question.”

“Okay, maybe I was that drunk. What happened next? My memory’s kind of blurry-”

“We played a few party games, in which you got mad at King and then chased him outside. He fell into SuA’s flower garden, and you claimed your victory over him. Then there was the whole Spin the Bottle incident-”

“Spin the Bottle incident?” You tilt your head at Kazuha.

“-I think Mala’s the person to talk to about that.” Kazuha scoots her chair closer to you. “Your friends all had a pretty good night when it came to romance.”

You groan as a wave of nausea hits you - damn hangovers and their horrible timing!

“What about me?” You ask out of plain curiosity.

“What about you…” Kazuha trails off with a playful look on her face.

You were chased outside by Katie… well, some of you were. Others were too drunk to function, so rides had to be arranged, and some were growing tired as the moon continued to rise into the sky.

Yunjin and Kazuha were still there… among others, but none were as notable as them.

In the moonlight, Kazuha’s skin glistened as someone set up a speaker in the backyard. Like a moon to its planet, you’re pulled into her orbit as you dance together to a song you can’t quite name. Your bodies flow together as if the cosmos deemed for you two to be together.

And, of course, nothing ends a perfect first dance like a perfect first kiss. Your lips move against hers in perfect harmony as you stop swaying to the music.

You part from her, with both you and her shyly looking away from each other, when Yunjin pulls you close to her.

“You two can’t have all of the fun~” She teases before lightly kissing your cheek.

You don’t have time to process what happened with Kazuha when Yunjin dances with you to a much faster-paced song. You find time to tease each other, to carefully expose your feelings without being too over-the-top. It’s a delicate dance, a high-intensity card game where you both wait to play your aces.

You play yours first - pulling her flush to you as the song comes to a close.

She plays her ace after yours - her hands pull your face close to hers, and her lips devour yours with a hunger that you’ve never known before.

Another partygoer has to pull the two of you away from each other, wanting you to “not cause a scene”. As if you haven’t done enough of that tonight.

You’re stuck between two worlds, a fork in the road that leads to two different good endings.

What do you do now?

“Then Yunjin and I ended up kissing, and we tried to call a ride back to the apartment. I don’t think the driver knew where we were going, since we ended up here.” Kazuha shows you a flier that she found on the desk - the hotel has a similar name to their apartment building, so the mix-up suddenly makes a lot more sense.

“I think we all drank too much,” You groan as you lay down on the bed. “But I don’t regret kissing you or Yunjin, not one bit.”

“So you remembered?” A hopeful glint appears in Kazuha’s eyes.

“I told you that I remembered bits and pieces, but as you were telling me what happened, it all started to click and my memories… sorted themselves out, I guess.” You place a hand over your eyes to prevent any sunlight or artificial light from entering your eyes. “Still doesn’t explain where Yunjin is though.”

The hotel door room is slammed open as someone stumbles into the room.

“Yunjin!” Kazuha explains as you carefully sit up and remove your hand from your eyes.

Yunjin’s hair is an absolute mess, sticking up in all sorts of directions and curling in places that it didn’t curl before.

“My head is killing me.” She grumbles before face planting on the bed. “The breakfast here sucks, by the way. Why don’t we go back home?”

“Do you remember much from last night?” You look over at Yunjin, who lifts her head and smirks at you.

“Which part - the party, the kissing, or the hotel room shenanigans?”

Your eyes widen as you look over at Kazuha - she’s just as flabbergasted as you.

“I’ll tell you all when we’re not hungover, preferably over coffee.” She says before laying her head back on the bed.

“It sounds like you’re asking us on a date, Yunjin.” You tease as Yunjin sighs.

“I wanna sleep, can we talk about this later?”

“We’ll talk later. Goodnight, Yunjin-” Kazuha says before she hears soft snoring from the other bed. “That was fast.”

“Do you want to rest, or would you rather clean up and get ready?” You ask.

“I could use a nap. Once I was semi-sober, I was looking up and down the hotel for Yunjin. I wonder where she went…” Kazuha shrugs as you slide off of the bed. “You aren’t tired?”

“I have to let the other Paladins know where I’m at.” You check the clock - 8:35 a.m.

Neon and King are probably still hungover, so Katie and Mala are the only people you should call right now. You don’t really want anyone to call you since you’re hungover, so you’ll offer the other boomers that basic respect.

“Kazuha, is it okay if I-” You pause as you watch Kazuha’s chest rise and fall - she’s dead asleep, too.

You look over to Yunjin, then back to Kazuha, and then to your phone.

You’d figure everything out, over coffee and other hangover cures. And you had one hell of a story to tell the other Paladins when you got home.

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sydsaint · 3 days

Text

Break me anytime sir 😩😩

Summary: Tired of having to deal with Bron and his violent behavior, Pearce pawns Breakker off on his assistant to handle. A role she's more than happy to take on.

Raw has been on the air for around and hour, and for once, things seem to be going smoothly. You are hanging out in the backstage area and talking with a couple of the members of the production crew when Pearce comes stomping into the room.

"YN!" Pearce's shrill voice knocks you out of the conversation you were having.

"Yes, sir?" You turn sharply on your heel and face your boss with a smile.

Pearce aims a narrow look at you. "When was the last time that you checked in with the security team?" He asks you.

"Umm, right before the show started. Why?" You answer him.

You notice Pearce's jaw clench in annoyance as he sets a hand on his hip. "Ricochet and Ilja Dragunov are about to have a match." He explains. "And I have a sneaking suspicion that Bron Breakker might make an appearance. Despite the fact that I've slapped him with a fine and asked him not to show up tonight."

"Right, okay." You nod. "I'll check up on them right away." You reach for the walkie-talkie hanging off of your belt.

Pearce stands by and watches you radio in with the security team. You talk with them for a minute before putting it back and turning back to Pearce.

"They haven't noticed anything suspicious tonight, sir." You relay the information to Pearce. "But I told them to be on the look-out for Breakker." You add.

Pearce nods, satisfied with your answer, and gestures for you to follow him back to the office. The two of you are headed back to the office when someone from the production team comes sprinting down the hall in search of either you or Pearce.

"Sir! Bron Breakker is out in the ring and attacking Ilja and Ricochet!" The frantic production guy comes to a halt in front of the two of you.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" Pearce shouts. "Well is security breaking up the fight?" He asks.

The security guard nods and gestures down the hall where the rest of the security team are all attempting to escort Bron away from the ring area.

"Sir! Please come with us!" One of the guys practically begs Breakker to cooperate.

You watch Pearce drag a hand over his face with followed by an exhausted sigh. He glances over at you and happens to notice the awestruck glint in your eyes as you watch Bron fight with the security team. An idea pops into Pearce's head and he fixes his tie, giving himself a moment to compose himself before he turns toward you.

"Y/N." Pearce turns toward you and catches your attention.

"Yeah, sir?" You blink a couple of times and turn to face him.

Pearce glances between you and Bron a couple of times before turning his attention back on you. "Why don't you stay with Breakker and try to calm him down? I'll go make sure that Ricochet and Ilja are alright." He explains.

"Yeah, okay." You nod.

You turn back around to Bron and the security team and swallow your nervousness down. Pearce walks off to head down to the infirmary and you approach the frustrated security team and the man making their life hell.

"Okay, you guys can relax now. Step off of him and give us some space." You order the team to relax and disperse.

The team all steps off of Bron and gives the two of you some space to breathe. Bron stares at you with a smug smile and waits for you to dish out some sort of punishment for his brash actions.

"I suppose that asking you to leave the building is useless?" You finally work up the courage to speak.

"I'm already here, aren't I?" Bron replies. "Mind as well hang out, right?"

You close your eyes and huff a breath out of your nose. "Can I at least ask that you stop brutally attacking your peers?" You ask him. "You can be pissed off at Pearce all you want. But taking out half the roster isn't going to get you anywhere." You remind him. "Unless you're just trying to create a mountain of tedious paperwork for Pearce and me?"

"For Pearce, maybe." Bron grins. "He should have let me into the King Of The Ring tournament." He shrugs.

You roll your eyes, trying to devise a plan on what you're going to do with Breakker while Pearce is gone.

"I've got stuff to do. Can I trust that you can behave yourself in the locker room? Or do I have to babysit you?" You ask him.

"I don't know." Bron teases you. "There's a lot of guys that like to run their mouths in the locker room."

You roll your eyes again and your phone buzzes in your pocket. You take it out and find a text from Pearce, updating you on Ricochet and Ilja. Both of them are fine. Or at least, without serious injury.

"Well, it looks like Ilja and Ricochet are going to be fine." You inform Bron and put your phone back into your pocket. "Which means no fine for you, unfortunately." You grumble that last part. "And if you're not going back to the locker room then I guess I'm stuck keeping an eye on you. So let's go." You gesture for him to follow you.

Bron shrugs and trails behind you as you weave through the backstage area. You find it much easier to maneuver through the droves of people working backstage with Bron behind you. But you'd be jumping out of the way too if you saw a man built like Breakker headed your way.

"Hey, Mike. Do you have the viewership stats for first hour of the show?" You head down to the production truck.

"Yeah, right he-Oh geez!" Mike turns around and is startled by Bron lurking menacingly behind you. "Umm, ma'am?" He nods subtly behind you.

"Ignore him." You reply and take the papers from his hands. "I'm babysitting because, someone," You turn back and look at Bron. "Can't be trusted to stay out of trouble."

Mike nods and turns to sit back down in his seat. You gloss over the report and head out of the truck, gesturing for Bron to follow you. Breakker pushes off the wall and continues to trail behind you while you run errands. After you've done a couple of things around the backstage area, you head back to the office with Bron still at your side.

"Pearce! You in here?" You step into the office and glance around for your boss.

"Over here, YN." Pearce replies from behind his desk.

Pearce beckons you over to his desk and you see a smile crack on his lips when he spots Bron still seemingly loitering at your side. You walk over to his desk and hand over the reports you've been collecting all night.

"So, you managed to put a leash on the dog, huh, YN?" Pearce taunts you, nodding to Bron on the other side of the room.

"Huh?" You reply and turn around. "Oh. Yeah, I guess." You shrug. "What else was I supposed to do with him?"

Pearce shrugs with a playful smile. "I'm intrigued that he's listening to you. What's your secret, YN?" He jokes.

"She's much prettier than you are." Bron chimes in from across the room. "And she hasn't gotten on my nerves."

Pearce rolls his eyes at Bron and turns back toward you. "Good work tonight, YN. I guess that I'll continue to leave handling Breakker to you."

"Lucky me." You reply dryly, secretly ecstatic about the decision.

"Don't pretend like you don't like having me around, sweetheart." Bron chimes in again. "No one likes a liar."

You blush slightly and walk off before you dig yourself deeper into this hole. And like the obedient new guard dog he is, Bron follows.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #wwe fic #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fanfic #wrestling fic #wwe x reader #x reader #bron breakker #bron breakker x reader #wrestling #wwe #syd's wrestling fics

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periprose · 8 months

Note

Ps5 Peter Parker x reader inspired by this?

It's one of my favorite MerDer moments on Grey's anatomy 🙈😭

Peter explains something about physics or an idea for a gagdet...

🤣 this image really cracked me up lol thanks for the ask!! I've set the fic to take place in the first game, Peter and Reader are Otto's assistants at Octavius Industries. Please ignore the science mumbo jumbo in this fic.

Otto's lab was really cold this time of year. He barely had the funds to make rent in Manhattan, let alone provide optimal heating and other luxuries.

Still, you shiver, searching through your locker for your comfy, oversized jumper. You're just pulling it on when Peter pops up from behind you.

"Hey."

"Jesus!" You flinch and then rub your eyes. "Hey, Peter. How do you get behind me so fast? That's the third time this month I didn't even see you come in."

"Uh... I just have good reflexes, I think." Peter's mouth twists a little, as he tries not to laugh at your jumper. "Are you sure that's up to lab standards? Where's your lab coat?"

"Ah, Otto doesn't mind. He knows I'm cold." You explain, and Peter sighs.

"Well, he never gives me special treatment."

"Probably because you're not as cute as I am." You joke, but Peter nods and you feel a callous level of attraction towards him for being so nonchalant in terms of flirting.

You never really know where you stand with the guy. He's a naturally witty person and you refuse to read into anything any deeper, just for self preservation.

"Hey, I can't disagree with that." Peter laughs that quiet, soft laugh that makes you smile on your own. "Here, I got you a cup of coffee. That should help warm you up."

You look down and see, sure enough, Peter's holding a coffee cup tray, loaded with three cups, surely your usual orders- for you, extra black espresso to stay awake, for Peter, usually some kind of healthy tea hybrid, and for Otto, a large, creamy Italian coffee blend that's particularly expensive (Peter always jokes that Otto wastes funding on things like this).

"Oh, I'll pay you back." You reach back into your locker for your wallet, but Peter stops you with a raise of his hand.

"It's free of charge. No worries." He hands you the cup gently, and your hand skirts across his. You think for a moment.

"Nothing is ever really 'free of charge', Peter." You give him a side glance. In the last couple of months you've known this guy, you've figured out when he has an ulterior motive.

"... Alright, alright. You got me." Peter starts pulling you along by the hand, towards one of Otto's offices filled with white-boards and desks and equipment. You take a sip of your coffee and notice that it's still quite hot- Peter must've been really fast to make it so.

Not that you're complaining, and now that you're warmer you do feel more inclined to listen to him.

"Okay. You know how Otto's neural interface for the experimental arms have been glitching out?" Peter's got a firm look on his face, as you sit and listen.

"Yeah. It's a poor prototype, I think he asked us to leave it alone? He said he'd deal with it." You shrug. "I've moved on to his requests for a tighter, stronger arm. You know I deal with hardware."

"Yes, but even so, the neural interface problem still persists. Otto's lying." Peter looks at the whiteboard, and sees that half of it is covered all over with erratically drawn diagrams and equations. It's fine, he knows he can write what he needs in that space.

"Okay, look." Peter begins drawing a diagram of the neural interface's circuitry. "See how the voltage is really high?"

"Yeah- but isn't that what Doc wanted?" You grimace. "Last time I brought up the voltage issue, he told me to mind my business and continue with soldering. He wants so much power for some reason."

"Right, that's what I'm talking about. Notice how Otto keeps having those outbursts?" Peter sighs, a deeply upsetting look overtaking him. "He's getting a bit aggressive as of late, and I think it's because he can't figure this out."

"You're telling me. Just yesterday he chewed me out for clocking in a bit late." You sniff. "Okay, I was fifteen minutes late, but still."

"I've been there, you don't even have to justify it." Peter laughs, and begins drawing squiggly lines. You can't help but notice how his strangely muscular arms are tense and visible through his lab coat as he scrawls, and you take a sip of your coffee, savoring the view. Looking isn't illegal, you try to rationalize, but you quickly banish these thoughts as Peter looks back with a sly glance, to make sure you're paying attention.

"This is the electricity flow... and it should be heading this way, but the neural interface is made incorrectly and the flow of energy is heading back this way... towards the-"

"The battery of the arms, not the interface." You suddenly realize, and take a scrap piece of paper off the desk, scribbling down notes. "Hmm... maybe the wiring used for the arms is absorbing too much energy? Or the batteries are too big?"

"Maybe, but neural interfaces are tricky business." Peter winces as Otto yells at something in the background of the lab. "I told Otto not to get too involved with it- it's far too easy to accidentally mess with your brain, and then suddenly you've got anger issues or worse-"

"Dementia." You finish his sentence with an equally grim expression. "Okay. I hear you, but how are we supposed to fix it, exactly? I can only think of using different, smaller wires, or a less cost heavy battery- but then it won't move at the speed Otto wants it to."

"Yeah." Peter's shoulders slump a little, and you feel bad. He's always just one dude trying to take on the entire world's problems.

"Peter, it's not your problem, really. You can only do so much- the man has made up his mind, he's going to have to take the brunt of the problem." You try to console him, but Peter has that determined Parker Pride you've seen far too often, and you know he's not going to let it go.

"Wait, wait. Okay..." Peter starts frantically drawing on the board, and seeing that he's running out of space, without missing a beat, begins to draw on the wall.

"Peter! You're drawing on the wall!" You admonish him, and to your shock and utter horror, but not to your surprise, he keeps going. "Now you've completely lost it- it'll take two seconds to erase the board-"

But Peter isn't listening, in that overly stubborn, inventor way that you know you've done before. He's too lost in his own thoughts, and you know that spark will disappear if he takes a moment to stop drawing.

"I'll clean it. It's fine. We got to get a move on." Peter points to the new diagram on the wall. "Look at this."

Peter's drawn a rudimentary depiction of the robotic arm prototypes you've built for Otto, but the battery pack has been split up into several, smaller batteries that extend over the course of the arms. Something about the way the arms move in Peter's drawings look a lot more... smooth, silky, like a cephalopod.

An octopus.

But you are amazed at Peter's capabilities, either way. "Using multiple different batteries, so the energy isn't drawn away from the neural interface in a great capacity?" You blink, a bit amused at Peter's eager expression. "It would work, I think, but only if Otto is willing for a slight decrease in power."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong. We don't need to sacrifice power at all." Peter draws a set of gears, interlocking through the squiddy looking arm, and you clap your hands, clambering up out of your seat, finally enthused by his idea.

"Peter Parker, you genius!" You shake his arm excitedly, and he turns a bit pinker as he watches you, grinning. "Otto wanted the arm to be almost entirely synthetic material- but if it has rotating gears, the less it will jerk around. It'll be faster, smoother-"

"Thus requiring less power anyways, and less power will be redirected into his neural interface. And, hypothetically, no more angry Otto." Peter grins, and you smile up at him. "I mean, it'll still take some tinkering to figure out, but incremental improvements are still improvements, right?"

"Definitely. Plus we can always try to convince him about solar power again." You joke as Peter snickers.

Peter opens his mouth, about to say something to you, but he stares for a moment too long and hesitates, especially because in the nerdy excitement, he had gotten so close to you, and he was a liar if he said he had never checked out his cute co-worker. Any second now, you should be teasing as you usually do- but your eyes are wide and Peter gets the sense you've been swept up in this too.

He's never been so... close. He can make out individual eyelashes, tiny scars, imperceptible to normal people, but not to him.

And his phone buzzes with some kind of alert. He looks it over with bright, concerned eyes, while you take a moment to step back, much to Peter's mild irritation.

"Ah... must be MJ?" You ask, trying so very hard not to sound like a jealous girlfriend, just a curious colleague. You have nothing against MJ- you just feel that she and Peter are so meant for each other, and this is exactly why you've been trying to protect yourself.

Who are you kidding? You and Peter are both so busy- you'd never have time to be his doting, adoring girlfriend. You just have to remember him as a friend.

Already you feel the walls coming into place, your expression turning neutral, your heart becoming steely, when Peter looks at you again, surprised.

He can tell you're holding yourself back- and he doesn't like that. He wants you to come back to him, to be close with him again, and it drives him nuts that it has to be your choice, but he respects that.

"Not MJ. We broke up a while ago." Peter swallows, hoping he's saying the right things. "Uh... I don't think we're going to get back together. She's dating someone else now."

"Oh." You squeeze Peter's shoulder as comfortingly as you can. "Peter, I'm sorry. I would've been less of an ass if I'd known."

"No, don't be." Peter fixes a firm, kindhearted glance at you, taking your hands, the warmth of his own making you feel especially treasured. "You're great."

There's a teeny bit of hope working it's way into you, into your silly, girly heart despite all the steel around it, and Peter has a soft smile reserved just for you- you know that smile, you've seen it before when he comforts you when an experiment goes poorly, or when you've had a Eureka moment.

He rubs your hands. "Jeez, you're cold! I know women are usually freezing in the workplace- different body temperatures on average and all that- but I'm going to have to talk to Otto about making it warmer in here."

"Lest I die of hypothermia, right." You snort, and Peter snickers, but he still stays close, as if he's using this as an excuse. "Well, at least I have your hands."

Peter's phone buzzes again, another alert, which he apologetically takes a moment to read after letting go of you. Something about Fisk's thugs making their way through Grand Central Station- he shouldn't leave right now, but he can see your curiosity is piqued.

"Just a news alert. Nothing big." Peter lies, and you don't quite buy it, but you don't want to pry at this moment after he's complimented you and been so nice to warm up your hands.

Otto bursts through the entrance of the room, sighing.

"Will you two lovebirds stop canoodling with each other and test out the circuitry? You know, like I'm paying you to do so with very limited funds?" He barks, and then inhales. "Sorry. Just... try to stay on task. And I know you're young and all... but stop drawing on the walls!"

He leaves, grumbling about youth being too romantic and wishing they would understand sensibility.

You're about to refute whatever Otto said, so Peter doesn't feel uncomfortable, when he speaks first.

"I take it he isn't a romantic." Peter jokes as he grabs some paper towels, and you laugh, feeling that Peter's flirting was more genuine than you thought.

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kairiscorner · 10 months

Note

Hey! Got a lil request!

I feel like Hobie would love to watch horror/scary movies so I would like a fic of Hobie watching a scary movie with reader that doesn't like scary movies cause they hate hyper realistic gore. You can imagine how he'd react to them being squeamish.

Thank you for reading this (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

HI @k4tsu3 POOKIEEEE OFC I WILL MAKE IT >:DDD HOPE YOU LIKE IT BOO 🫶🫶🫶

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

no need to worry, i'm right here. — hobie brown x reader

summary: as much as you want to enjoy movie night with your boyfriend, you could never bring yourself to find peace and enjoyment at the prospect of hyper realistic gore and nightmare fuel for days on end. luckily, hobie understands that you don't enjoy this as much as he does, and even luckier, he's willing to hold you all night and change the movie if you want. word count: 586

you tried to put on a brave face, though it was nothing like the look of enjoyment on hobie's face as he awaited to watch the movie you two scrounged up on some shady website. he laughed every time a pop-up appeared and poked fun at it as he exited the tab, though you awaited those pop-ups like the sunrise to a long, restless evening, because it was your excuse not to see the barrage of dark atmosphere and frightening elements of the movie you two were watching.

you listened as hobie made live commentary in murmurs on how good the cinematography was, how realistic the makeup on the actors were when they were using gorey elements for the shots. you smiled uncomfortably at the sound of hobie's amazement towards the execution of the movie and tried your hardest to look away from the compellingly loud sounds from the film. you shivered and whimpered a little as you curled up next to hobie, who was initially confused as to why you were suddenly clinging on to him, but he didn't mind--in fact, he loved that you were clinging on to him. though something told him you were clinging on to him for reasons other than you wanting to hold him intimately.

hobie went over and paused the movie and looked at you with a confused yet concerned look. "y'alright, love?" he asked you with a head tilt as you nodded and tried to smile sweetly up at him. "of course! of course, hobes... 'course i'm okay..." you stammered as hobie smirked, not buying your faux declaration of being 'okay'. "is it the movie?" he asked you as he wrapped his arm around your waist and held you a little closer. shivers ran up your spine as you lightly nodded and leaned back on his chest in embarrassment. "...yeah. it's just, i don't wanna ruin movie night for you, hobes... we watch every movie i like, and, i wanted to watch something you like, in return. i'm sorry..." you muttered as hobie kissed the top of your head and brushed away stray hairs on your forehead and smiled.

"love, there's nothing wrong with being scared of a movie, let alone not wanting to watch it because of it. i'm glad you told me, and to be honest, i could go for watching a different, less violent, film right about now. you know me, i love me a good double feature." he said as he clicked off the tab you two were watching on and searched up a movie you were raving to hobie about, one you loved that he hasn't seen before. hobie grinned at you as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders again. "you alright with rewatching this masterpiece you told me about, dear?" he asked you with a wink, to which you chuckled lightly as you placed your hand on top of his and smiled at him. "i am if you're eager to see it, i could watch this a million times and still be blown away, especially now that you're watching it with me..." you whispered as you pecked a kiss on hobie's cheek. "thank you for understanding, hobes..." you told him as he kissed your cheek back. "don't worry, love. your comfort's always my priority. besides, this actually looks really promising, can't wait to see it." he said as he clicked play and you two laughed as the button redirected you two to an ad for hot single moms in your area.

a/n: (((y'all watched the barbie movie /hj)))

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @arachnoia @pixqlsin @solecitoszn

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown fluff #atsv #atsv imagines #atsv fluff #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

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im-actually-a-certified-idiot · 3 days

Text

Looking For You

“This club looks like a shithole.”

“Shut up.”

“...can we just go in?”

“No.”

James scowled. “C’mon, Moony, they’ll turn up eventually, we should just go in without them-”

“Do you want to be on the receiving end of one of Sirius’s overdramatic rants?” Remus challenged him, and the thought of it was enough to quiet James.

For a moment.

“Can you ring him?”

“My phone’s dead. For fuck’s sake, James, just calm down. What’s got you in a rush anyway?”

An image popped into James’s mind, of a lanky, dark haired boy with too many piercings and a wide, sneering smirk. He felt himself redden, and sent a silent prayer of thanks that it was dark. “Nobod- nothing. I’m just bored, that’s all.”

“Just bored,” Remus repeated, his voice skeptical.

Fuck. Could he tell if James was lying? “Yeah. You know me- I’m an action guy.”

“Action guy?” boomed a voice behind them- Sirius came sauntering out of the shadows, Peter a pace behind him, grinning widely. “Why, Prongs- you’re in luck tonight! There are plenty of girls here, so I’m sure you’ll have your little adventure.” He winked.

“You’re late,” said Remus irritably as James turned away. It wasn’t that he disagreed with Sirius- the whole point of coming to the club was to get laid- but at the word adventure, it wasn’t exactly a girl that came to mind. He felt his face grow hotter, and willed himself to think of anything- anything- else to quell the squirming feeling within his stomach.

“Shall we go in then?” Peter asked. His question was met with grunts of assent from the other two. “Oi, James, you alright?”

“Fine,” he said stiffly. He turned back around, glad his face was cooling. “What are you lot waiting for?”

He didn’t miss the strange look Sirius sent him, or the silent conversation that Remus and Peter had. But it was all over within a blink of the eye; Sirius slung his arm over James’s shoulder, and they all walked into the club.

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

“Want a drink?”

“Yeah, thanks,” James said, taking the glass that Sirius offered to him. “Where’ve Remus and Peter gone?”

“Remus went to chat up an old friend and Wormy- oh look, there he is!”

James caught sight of Peter at the edge of the dance floor, grinning with a pretty, blond girl. Not his usual goofy grin that was reserved just for the Marauders, but the coy one he used when trying to charm women. James couldn’t tell which was more surprising: that Peter had already snagged a girl twenty minutes in, or that the girl seemed to be falling for his charms.

“Stupid,” said Sirius affectionately. He clinked his glass against James’s and tipped his head back for a sip. “What’s up with you, mate? Thought you wanted to get some action tonight.”

“I do.”

“What’re you moping around for, then?”

Because he’s not here. Even though he said he’d be. Even though I heard him say it, word for word.

James took a long sip from his glass. “Nothing. Just don’t feel like it right now- might go get a girl later.”

Sirius studied him for a moment, and for a terrifying beat of silence, James wondered if he’d get interrogated. He was a shitty liar, after all, and Sirius could sniff out lies like a bloodhound. He was like his mother in that way (though James would quite rather stab himself than verbalize that observation).

But his best friend merely grinned and clapped James on the shoulder. “Whatever you say, mate. Cheers.” He gave their glasses a final clink! together and strolled away towards a gaggle of pretty girls nearby.

James exhaled deeply and downed the rest of his glass.

—------------------------------

Half an hour passed by, yet James couldn’t stop his eyes from searching.

They flicked, every other second, to the entrance door. Every time, he saw it open- even just a crack- he straightened and scrutinized the newcomer, searching for Barty’s features. Hoping, praying.

It was stupid. He and Barty were hardly friends- their relationship was more frenemy, leaning towards enemy. Barty despised him, he knew. He would probably sooner fuck a girl than even look at James with an ounce of affection- and he was gay.

But fuck, that didn’t stop James from looking.

-----

so i decided to post early because i finished unexpectedly early :D

@garden-of-runar

@gildy-locks @theoneandonlypjofanatic @themortalityofundyingstars

if this gets enough likes and rbs i might post a part 2 idk

credits to @picklerab23 for the idea :D

#sunkiller #sunkiller fic #sunkiller fanfic #marauders #marauders era #marauders fandom #marauders boys #james potter #james fleamont potter #jfp #barty crouch jr #barty jr #bcj #james x barty #jarty #jarty fic #jarty fanfic #darksun

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absurdthirst · 8 months

Text

Kinktober 2023: October 9th

Day 9: Slutwear, Squirting/Cumshots, Prostitution/Camming/Sex-for-Service

Agent Whiskey x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Camming, technically sex work, voyeurism, sex toys, breast play, masturbation, dom/sub undertones, slight obsession

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The camera light blinks on, making you take a deep breath and adjust the lacy mask that completely conceals the upper half of your face. Last week, it had been a pretty rhinestone cat mask, but you had wanted something gothically sexy for the first day you are camming in October.

“Hello.” You lick your lips, tasting the fruity lip gloss that you had thought would look good on the camera feed for your customers. The chat bar, where the users that are in your Cam ‘room’ can send you messages or just talk amongst themselves. There’s only one username here tonight and you see that he had paid for a private session.

Whiskey. You had heard his voice a few times and imagined a cowboy from the top of his Stetson to the bottom of his boots. “Whiskey.”

****

Jack groans in anticipation as the feed connects, catching the first sight of Kinkygirl4U.

It had been a whim, a lonely, spur of the moment thing but since that first visit to the cam room, he’s been hooked. Eager to see you move, talk, fuck yourself. Touch yourself.

No one at Statesman knows about this, they can’t know about it. It’s his dirty little secret, staying home when he could prowl the bars. Watching a computer screen when he could be sliding into bed with whatever woman he had charmed.

The fact was, he was bored of that. It had lost its appeal. He was so tired of chasing women that he was going to forget their faces before he slipped out their front door. The endless flirting and one night stands. He knew he wasn’t going to commit, he couldn’t.

Stumbling upon your page had happened by accident. Searching porn one night when the invite for a cam room popped up. It had been intriguing enough to click on and he had been pushed into your room just as soon as he had entered his credit card information.

You had been perfect. A mix of innocent and vixen that had his cock throbbing as you touched yourself and interacted with the other people that were watching. Watching along with them as you made yourself cum, talked about your sexual experience and laid yourself literally bare in front of him.

It had been the beginning for him. Every chance he had, he had logged on to watch you. Memorizing your broadcast times so he could make sure that he was in front of a computer. He had even locked his office door and watched you a few times when he was working at Statesman in New York.

Jack turns on the mic and chuckles quietly. “Hello, Kinkygirl.” He purrs. “You sure look pretty in that mask.” There’s nothing else that you are wearing tonight, so he can’t complement your pretty lingerie, but your tits look mouthwatering.

You giggle for him, something that is most likely practiced, but it sounds real and he can indulge in the fantasy that you are actually preening for him.

“Whiskey, you naughty boy. You bought out the show tonight.” You playfully chastise him, but there is a grin on your face and your hand slides up to cup your tits and push them towards the camera. “Didn’t want to share, hum?”

“Sure didn’t, sugar.” He grunts, drinking in the sight of you greedily and reaching for the overly large belt buckle that has a flask on it. Needing to free his already hard cock. “Want you all to myself. That’s alright, ain’t it?”

You hum playfully, tilting your head up in thought even as you brush your thumbs over those perky nipples of yours. You know that Whiskey likes your breasts, he always wants you to touch them or pinch your nipples. Apparently a tit man behind his screen. “Of course it is, baby.” You decide, letting out a soft moan when your nipples are achingly hard and the pressure of your thumb turns slightly painful against it.

Jack groans, loving how your back arches and your eyes flutter behind the mask. Just once, he would want to see all of your face. Even resisting the urge to have you found using Statesman resources. This is just for him, you think that he’s just some normal man and he likes it.

“Good.” He grunts, flicking the button of his jeans open and sighing in relief. He can see, but there’s a certain sense of anonymity that he enjoys. You know a username, a code name of a code name in life’s little irony. “Why don’t you show me how wet you are, sugar? I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day.” He coos.

Smirking when you immediately lean back and start to spread your legs, willing to give him anything that he wants. It’s a rush for him, telling you to perform and you do it so prettily. Groaning when he sees how wet your folds are as you angle the camera down to let him get an up close view.

“That’s a fucking pretty cunt.” He praises, pulling his cock out of his jeans and reaching for the lotion. He’s pretty much having to keep a bottle close by when he’s got you on his screen. Broadcasted to him in vivid color and 4K resolution. “So sexy, sugar. You love touching your little clit, don’t cha?”

He hisses when he wraps his hand around his dick, the lotion much cooler than your cunt would be. Watching as you breathlessly pant and start to touch yourself. He will watch whatever you want to do, eager to just devour you and he coos praises as he strokes himself.

“Pretend you’re with a lover, sugar. Show me how you would ride a dick.” You have a toy, a dildo that you suction to the mirror that you have laying on your bed. Letting him see how it looks as you ride it through the reflection and he has been wanting to see it again since the first time he had seen it.

You obey without even questioning it, making him twitch in his hand when he watches the thick pink silicone of the toy disappear inside you, watching your lips stretch around it and wondering if it feels as good as the real thing for you. “Oh fuck, sugar, that feel good?” He asks. “Bet it feels so good inside that little cunt. Nice and tight. That toy thick enough or do you like it thicker?”

He’s pretty fucking girthy so he’s imagining how you would whine as you slowly sink down on his cock. Coming through the screen and straddling him in his chair.

“It’s so good.” Your breathy moans are turned all the way up so he can hear every hitch in your voice. Never being turned on like then when someone is moaning in his ear.

“That’s it, sugar. Ride it for Whiskey.” He moans out, eyes fixed on the screen where you are literally giving him his own private porno. Like those peep-show booths, but this is even better. It’s obviously in your room, where you live and relax when you aren’t filming.

You are magnificent as you pleasure yourself in front of the camera, for him. Whimpering out his username as you start to bounce on the toy. He wonders what you are imagining. Are you imagining some version of him? Are you thinking about what you are going to do after, what errands you have to run? He’s so used to wearing his own mask when he is on a mission that he’s apparently more comfortable with you than with a person in the flesh. His little cam girl.

Jack moans, cumming from the sight of your tits bouncing and the pressure of his cock. Covering his shirt and pants with his release as you start to cum yourself. Slowly working himself through his pleasure as you cry and shake over the toy before you stop moving. Pulling off of the toy and panting as you move closer to the camera. “How was that, Whiskey?” You ask breathlessly.

Your face is sweaty and your eyes filled with passion or pleasure, that part he hasn’t quite figured out yet, but he will. Next time. “Perfect, sugar.” Jack murmurs through the internet connection that links you together. “Just perfect.”

#pedro pascal #absurdthirst kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey smut #agent whiskey fanfiction #agent whiskey imagine #jack whiskey daniels

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lady-raziel · 1 month

Note

Cna i... Can I ask what the beef is with M Night Shyamalan?

fair warning, this is a self-indulgently long post. but if you endure the page break, you may find the story entertaining.

a long time ago...in a small indie comic book shop in downtown Philadelphia...

picture this. it's circa 2016. my hyperfixation at the time is DC Comics-- the Flash specifically. I like the Flash, but I really like his nemesis, the Reverse Flash. This guy's gimmick is that he has the same powers as the Flash, but he's also evil because he used to be a Flash stan and his idol didn't validate their parasocial relationship when they actually met in person, and now he just wants to kill the Flash instead. It's a long story. Reverse Flash has died many times. He's also from the future, but that's not the important bit right now.

Anyway, despite being one of the Flash's main enemies, there are not that many comic book issues that feature the Reverse Flash for some reason. My main hobby at the time of this whole ordeal is to go to the local comic book shops and search through the bins of back issues to find anything with the Reverse Flash in it (bonus points if he's on the cover, but at a certain point you can't be picky). I'd been fairly successful at this, and had even been able to avoid buying too much off Ebay as I really didn't care too much about the condition or grade of the comics. The comic book shop in downtown Philly I was in on the day of the Incident was one I'd been to before, but not in a while as I went to school out in the suburbs and didn't leave that general area too much.

So. I enter this shop, and it's not too busy. That's a good thing as it's not a large space and if there were too many people it would have been very difficult to navigate around the displays of Funko Pops and tables of back issues. However, as I was soon about to find out, it doesn't matter if there's only one other person shopping at the same time as you if that person is the wrong person.

I make my way to the back where all the big boxes of old comics are, and scan the rows alphabetically to find the 'Fs.' I see 'Firestorm,' and 'Fantastic Four,' and all the others...but there, right there, where the Flash comics should be...there's a guy. Standing there. In the way.

Now, that's alright. He just seemed to be perusing randomly and wasn't actually looking at the Flash comics specifically (my Flash comics), and I can just go look at the action figures or something until he moves to another section of the shop. No problem. I mean, it's one box of comics, Harold. How long does it take to look through it? 5 minutes? No, all I have to do is wait a little bit and then I can examine those 1980s Flash comics with my own grubby little paws.

So I do a loop of the store. I examine the Funko Pops (they all look the same), the t-shirts (only Hot Topic quality), the new comics (Superman #1? How many times are they going to reboot this thing?), and even the super expensive vintage comics up on the wall (no Reverse Flash here, and it would still be beyond my price point anyway). But when I finally make my way back to the back issues, the guy...is still there. He hasn't moved. And now he's not even pretending to look at the comics anymore.

Now, to my horror, he seems to be having a full-on conversation with one of the store employees right on top of my box of comics, and neither of them seem like they plan to end this discussion anytime soon. You may be asking at this point, "well Raz, if you wanted to look at the comics where they were standing, why didn't you just ask them to move out of the way?" You're right. I could have done that.

But problem. I have social anxiety. And sometimes it gets very bad about very small things. So while it would have been entirely reasonable to ask these two men to move their conversation elsewhere, the crippling social anxiety made it so that asking for that very small and reasonable thing would have been akin to asking these guys if they would set me on fire right here right now, please and thank you. It wasn't gonna happen. My only option was to hover uncomfortably 6 feet away, pretending to go through the back issues systematically and hope they picked up on what I was doing and moved out of the way when I got back to the 'Fs,' or give up and suffer an hour and a half on the SEPTA train back home with nothing to show for it.

now, i've never had a conversation with famous filmmaker and director M Night Shyamalan. I didn't even know what he looked like at the time, so when all this happened I thought he was just Some Guy who in his unawareness was keeping me from completing my mission. Maybe he's a really engaging conversationalist and talking with him causes you to not notice anything going on around you. That may even be the case-- as neither the Twistmaster himself or the besotted store employee seemed to notice I was there. But I WAS there. And my frantic silent social cues were being "returned to sender," unread.

Meanwhile I was enduring a level of internal turmoil on the level of a character in a Greek tragedy. This was my crucible. Surrender, or do something I was honor-bound not to do. Was this the meaning of an impossible choice?

It was only after almost 15 long, agonizing minutes and two more laps of the store on my part that finally, finally there was a breakthrough. Unaware Man (for this would be Shyamalan's superhero code name) and Employee-Bro had moved to the cash register, as the former had found something he wanted to buy. With speed rivaling the Flash himself, I descended on the fated box of comics like a plague. It seemed that the day had not been lost after all.

However, like any film from the man himself, there was to be a final twist to this tale. One last turn of the knife. You might be thinking-- "And it turned out that there weren't any comics in the box you wanted to buy after all, rendering this whole ordeal meaningless, right? Like any tragic hero you endured the terrible trials only to discover that the treasure you sought was a hollow fantasy of your own creation, and this all could have been avoided if you had not fallen prey to the follies of man?"

No. The problem was-- I did find several comics in that box that I wanted to buy. I even found one with the Reverse Flash on the cover. But now that I had found my prize, I faced a new, even greater challenge, which was somewhat an extension of the old challenge, but to the extreme.

I now had to get Employee-Bro to ring me up so I could leave this cursed place, but here's the kicker: I had to do this while he was still utterly engaged in discussion with Unaware Man and thus blind to the outside world. I had come out of the frying pan and into the fire, because now it wasn't like I could just go home and take only a feeling of defeat with me. My precious comic book finds were on the line, and what was I going to do? Just put them back in the box and leave?

Unfortunately, I was committed. I would have to stand reasonably out of the way of Unaware Man's personal space yet close enough to indicate that I was, yes, in line to check out my purchases. And goddamnit, I was going to do this until all of us died of old age or the world ended.

I kind of lost all sense of time at that point. It could have been only a few minutes. It could have been five hours. All I know is that it was long enough that I wished for the sweet release of death, because then at least I'd be able to lie down. How it eventually went down was that Employee-Bro rung up Unaware Man (because really, processing a credit card transaction and signing the receipt only can take so long), and the two continued to talk as Employee-Bro gradually gained awareness that I Was There Too, and multitasked to check out my items while remaining totally focused on his other conversation and not speaking a word to me.

And that was it. I was free, from the physical prison of the comic book store at least. But again, like a Shyamalan film, this was in reality only the end of the second act. Because as I walked through the streets of Center City Philadelphia and rested my head against the smudged window of the SEPTA train on the way home, I started to descend into the mental turmoil of the question, "wait, who was that guy? Was he like...famous, or something?"

If you've ever been to a comic con or spent enough time in a hobby shop, you know that sometimes Nerd Bros can get really deep into conversation about these sorts of things. Many of them even have lots of opinions on films, and will be happy to share them in detail unprompted. So it wasn't entirely unreasonable for me not to realize in the moment that what was happening wasn't just "Nerd Bros Being Dudes."

But the more I thought about it, the one-sided adoring dynamic between Employee Bro and Unaware Man did seem unusual. And in the bits of their conversation that I had been forced to endure, hadn't one of them mentioned something about...filming locations? What was that about? Nobody in their right mind films stuff in Philly unless they're making the 86th Rocky film or the like.

It was a Google search of "movies filming in Philadelphia" that returned several results of articles talking about how location scouting was going on in the area as part of the production of a long-awaited sequel to the 2000 film Unbreakable, a undercover superhero sleeper hit. Unbreakable, a film set in Philadelphia, written and directed by famous filmmaker M Night Shyamalan.

Shyamalan. SHYAMALAN. the man responsible for 2010's The Last Airbender. it was HIM. he was not only the man who originated the (still unbroken!) curse on the Avatar franchise, but also the man who had ruined my day. Thoughtlessly. Carelessly. Not by massacring a beloved children's television franchise, but by being unaware. Inconceivable.

This was horrific. It wasn't even like I was the Reverse Flash or any other famous superhero nemesis, who had a compelling backstory causing their undying hatred of the hero. Instead, I now had a narrative foil who barely even fit that description, because chances are he hadn't even taken notice of my existence the whole time! This was my supervillain origin story, and it was his normal day!

It was at this moment I swore an oath. I would not forget this terrible day of inconvenience that was partially caused by my own social failings. I would dedicate my life from this point forward to slightly narrowing my eyes and shaking my head disapprovingly when I saw mentions of Shyamalan or his works online. I would color any opinions I had of his films with the thought, "but remember that one time he was kind of a dick to you without even meaning it? what was up with that?"

and that is the tale of my tragic encounter with M Night Shyamalan. To this day, my only solace is that my epic origin story turned out more narratively coherent and with deeper substance than any other film made in the Unbreakable saga, including the one he was location scouting for at the time this happened. Shyamalan can write twists all he wants, but no one is better at that game than karma itself.

-END-

#not included in this narrative retelling: me raising a fist into the air and shouting 'SHYAMALAN!!!' like i'm in star trek wrath of khan #if you read all that you deserve a medal #if there's ever a cinematic adaptation of this event it can only be made by shyamalan himself

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