#i know it comes in waves. i have the time of my life and then it crashes. i know. but knowing doesn’t make it easier | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mirclealignr · 2 days ago

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for the better | james potter [7.7k]

james potter x fem!slytherin!reader

requested by anonymous wherein james’ love for harmful pranks is the one thing that keeps y/n and james divided.

warnings; alcohol & food consumption, swearing, james being a bit james, mentions of someone like drowning a bit, she / her pronouns used for the reader.

a/n: i’m not really confident on the actual quality of my writing here or this fic at all really, but oh well. have it anyway xxx

James Potter elicited conflicting sentiments from Y/N. He could be selfish, conceited, and aggravating but, in spite of that, he could also be considerate, charming and amiable. Nevertheless, his fondness for immature pranks could infuriate her to the ends of the Earth. He and his friends could oftentimes overdo it, push it much too far, and Y/N could never understand the enjoyment they experienced from humiliating others.

But on the other side of it, the side where James Potter could charm her into almost anything, she saw the sense of fun he sought from everyday life. She saw the young man who thought deeply about things, who could plan meticulously, who was strangely organised and clean. She saw someone who could make her feel as if the only adoration he relished was her own.

But, still, Y/N maintained her vigilance.

��Good morning, Y/N,” called James, spotting her amongst the littered students of the Sunday morning breakfast rush.

Y/N stopped at the entrance to the Great Hall and exhaled, turning around to see the cocky grin stretching across James Potter’s face. With a quick sarcastic smile in return she continued on her way to the Slytherin table without so much as a word.

She could barely admit to herself that she hoped he would follow.

“Oi!” James called after her. “Can’t get away that easily, Y/L/N.”

James delighted in the thrill of the chase.

“What do you want, Potter?” Y/N rolled her eyes, turning to face him before she reached her friends who would tease her endlessly for entertaining him in the first place.

James caught up to her with a little jog, ignoring the Slytherins giving him a distasteful eye as he whisked past them.

He shook his hair about, letting it fall back into its natural place. “Er, just wondering if you’d…started the Potions assignment yet,” he shrugged, clearing his throat.

“Really, James? You wanted to know if I had started the Potions assignment, due tomorrow, that much?” She cocked an eyebrow.

Well, of course not, James thought. He just wanted to talk to you. “Yeah, thought you could give me some pointers, if you had.”

She shook her head, strolling further down into the Great Hall, avoiding her friends’ mocking stares. “Yes, I’ve finished it, actually. And no, why don’t you ask Remus?”

“Lost a bet with him. Can’t get any help off him for another two weeks,” admitted James, sighing.

“Well, you’ll have to find someone else, then. Or just…do it yourself?”

James feigned a breaking heart and winced. “You’d do that to me?”

“You’re more intelligent than you give yourself credit for, Potter. Now piss off, I want to eat.”

James stood still.

“Go on!” She shooed.

This time, he scurried off, obeying his instruction. But when he reached Sirius, Remus and Peter, he was not himself. They could spot it immediately and their eyes honed in on the Y/N across the Hall laughing with her friends. They turned quizzically back to James who was more than happy to reveal the reason behind his altered demeanour.

“She complimented me,” James swelled with pride. “I told you I’d get her to come round.”

Sirius didn’t believe it for an instant. Remus cocked a suspicious eyebrow, and Peter was busy eating his cereal. James looked at the three of his closest friends, the boys he would do anything for, and their disbelieving expressions with disappointment. It was betrayal.

“You’re all dead to me.”

Remus sighed, putting his novel down. “Now, Prongs, what else did she say?” he probed.

James spluttered, scoffed and waved his hands. What did it matter? She complimented him and she meant it. Everything else was simply besides the point, a mere subtext to the main event. He picked up two slices of toast, buttering them rather aggressively as Sirius and Remus waited for an answer.

“She told him to “piss off,”” said Peter between mouthfuls.

James chortled in pure disbelief, almost choking on his first bite of his freshly buttered toast. He quickly looked to Remus and Sirius who hid their smirks rather pathetically. “How did you know that’s what she said?!”

“I didn’t, but that’s what she usually says,” laughed Peter, joined by Sirius and Remus.

“Just you wait,” James promised.

It had taken nearly six years for James to seize Y/N’s attention. These days she’d actually have a conversation with him, she’d even laugh at the jokes he made just for that very reason. That, and to watch her smile grow. He hadn’t thought much of Y/N in the beginning, considering she was a Slytherin and he was a Gryffindor. But as he grew older, a little wiser, both him and his friends had realised these divisions weren’t all they were cracked up to be. Sure, some Slytherins really were evil, but a lot of them weren’t. Some Ravenclaws were rather dopey, some Gryffindor’s a little too cowardly.

It didn’t matter to him anymore.

As Remus headed to the library and Peter to the dorms, James chatted with Sirius, bringing up the idea of a prank to shake up the Monday morning to come. Sirius wasn’t so sure, but he could easily be persuaded. They walked through the halls of Hogwarts brainstorming ideas all afternoon, winding through the corridors before finally heading outside to enjoy the June sun.

“It’s perfect, Padfoot, we just need Moony and Wormtail in on it too.”

“You know them, they’ll be up for it,” winked Sirius, lying back on the patchy grass not far from the Whomping Willow.

James leaned against the trunk of a tree, fiddling with a daisy in his hand as he thought of Y/N, now that his distraction had taken its leave. If only he could make her see he was worth her while. He pulled blades of grass from the soil below, ripping them to shreds as he thought of some way to make her see that she was missing out by not giving him a chance. He could be utterly perfect for her.

“What are you two doing being so quiet?” Asked Y/N, blocking the sun from Sirius’ face as she stood over him.

“Relaxing, Y/L/N. You should try it some time, maybe you wouldn’t be so uptight,” remarked Sirius without even opening his eyes.

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned to James. “Something on your mind or?” She nodded to the pile of ripped up grass at James’ feet.

He looked down sheepishly. “No,” he said bluntly, unable to think of an excuse or a sarcastic response to keep the conversation flowing.

Y/N felt a small pang of embarrassment and went to go on her way. Had she upset him earlier? They always spoke that way to each other, she thought, it was just part of their banter.

James hit his hand to the floor muttering a profanity under his breath as he shot up. He hesitated before going after her. Over the past weeks he struggled to know what to say to her like he used to. For a while he thought he was losing his touch or that something in her manner had changed his own. But she was just as she was before. It was him who had changed.

“Wait up, Y/N!” He shouted.

Y/N spun around, scrunching her brows together in confusion. As she waited for James to catch up, she wondered what he could have to say to her that he couldn’t have said before when she was clearly making an effort to talk.

“Sorry about before,” James said, “Don’t know why I just said that.”

She melted into his apology. “It’s okay. Are you alright?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I’m all right. You just caught me thinking, that’s all,” James laughed, taking slow steps with her towards the castle.

“What were you thinking about?” Asked Y/N. “Not your Potions assignment, surely?” She laughed.

James laughed too. Merlin, he did love to hear her laugh. “Of course not, I’ll just get an extension for that or something. No, just thinking about what Sirius and I have planned for tomorrow.”

Y/N tensed. She hated that they were always scheming, that he was. “Not another prank?”

James quickly felt himself become defensive, though he wished he could have stopped it. “What’s wrong with that?” He snapped.

Y/N stopped, turning to James. Behind him was the view of the tumbling Scottish hills, shades of green spilling over onto one another, all the way down to the water that shimmered in the sunlight. She leaned over the side of the bridge, and James followed her.

“I just don’t get it, James,” she started. He loved it when she called him by his name, his first name. “School is hard enough, you know? We’re all just trying to make it through to the end when we can finally feel safe enough to be ourselves. For most people, they can’t be themselves here, they’re just trying to fit in so things aren’t so hard. You and your mates make it that much harder for all of us. You always seem to single out the people who just want to be invisible.”

James felt almost as if he was being attacked. She’d never said anything like this before. “You never seemed to mind before,” James grunted.

“Just because I didn’t say anything doesn’t mean I didn’t have an opinion. Just thought you’d grow out of it, is all,” she shrugged, continuing her slow walk back to the castle.

So really, this whole time he never stood a chance. She was baiting him? He couldn’t help but take this as a personal attack, as much as he wanted not to do so. “I don’t understand-”

“No, you won’t understand,” sighed Y/N. “I’m not trying to attack you.”

She traced his thoughts as easily as a well-worn path.

“I’m just saying I don’t think you realise how harmful your stupid pranks can be for people who already have it hard.”

“They’re just pranks.”

“But they’re not. Publicly humiliating people is not a prank, it’s cruel. Haven’t you ever thought, after all these years, there’s other ways to make people laugh without hurting them?”

James was taken aback. She’d suggested something no one ever had done before. Did he really do this sort of thing just for attention? Sure he liked the way it made him feel, the way people laughed because of something he had done, the way people greeted him in the corridors, knew his name before he had introduced himself. But he hadn’t realised it might have all started because he wanted people to see him. It was just fun, wasn’t it?

That’s all it was.

But before he had the chance to tell this to Y/N, the person whom he needed to convince, she was gone, thinking perhaps it really was best to keep her distance.

- - -

James had spent days thinking over what Y/N had told him, about the can of worms she had opened inside him. He didn’t go through with the prank he had planned for that Monday morning, and had not thought of following through on any of the ideas the rest of his friends had come up with either. All he could think about was Y/N and what she had said.

The hours he spent mulling over it had done some damage. Perhaps he was just in it for the way it made him feel, knowing so many people adored him or at least liked him. The way first years knew who he was before any of the professors, the way they looked up to him. The laughter he brought to the school and the swell of pride he felt in hearing it. But after he thought of this with much gratification, he lingered on the other side of it.

How many people had he left crying in their dorms, frightened to come to class and see him again? He remembered one Slytherin he’d fed vomiting candy to - Merlin, they spewed their guts up all over the classroom. He had never once thought how he would feel if it had happened to him, because his friends would never do that. They were the instigators, not the receivers. He wondered how many students avoided him any chance they could. He wondered at the empty seats next him in the lessons he didn’t share with Sirius or Remus.

It was tedious, he had never had to think of all these repercussions before.

“James, mate, what is wrong with you lately?” Sirius asked, settling into an armchair by the common room fireplace.

James shook his head, twirling his wand between his fingers, eyes pouring into the fire in front of him. “What if we changed the way we pranked people?”

“What do you mean?” Asked Sirius, waving Remus and Peter over.

- - -

The next morning James enacted his plan. It was elaborate in the way that he had to be up nearly all night with Remus, Sirius and Peter to make sure it worked. He hadn’t really spoken to Y/N much since their conversation nearly a week ago but he was desperate to see her smile. He was desperate to make her smile, in the hopes it would break the tension between them.

Being the reason for her smile made him feel as if he had accomplished something worthwhile.

The four of them sat in the Great Hall, anxiously eating their breakfast as they waited for it to begin. Sirius was not at all confident - it was so unlike them, so ‘off brand’ as he had described it. Remus, on the other hand, quite liked the idea and was committed to its success. Peter hated it, but didn’t care as long as James stopped dragging through the days - for he had been awfully boring as of late, Peter thought.

James fought to look behind him to the Slytherin table, but at least twice every few minutes he failed. He watched her for as long as she permitted him to - for as long as he went unnoticed. It was Y/N, in fact, that alerted him to the beginning of their stunt. She turned to the doors of the Great Hall as the first of the owls swooped in, dropping various letters at a plethora of tables.

“I’ve got a howler,” a student gasped from the Hufflepuff table.

One of their friends consoled them with a pat on the back and a sigh. “Just get it over with.”

The Hufflepuff was about to rip open the sealed letter when another student behind them declared they had received one too. At first, they had imagined it as coincidental bad luck, but there began a chorus of students admitting the same fate. Y/N looked around in confusion as students began to stand and show their respective howlers. And then she knew. Her eyes flickered to James in a silent rage, knowing he had not grasped the gravity of her words, that he had absorbed nothing, and that her words that day had been taken by the wind, scattered amongst the hills of the highlands.

None of the students had opened their howlers as of yet, waiting for the last of them to be delivered from the owls still filtering in and out of the hall. She watched James through the rain of letters, keeping her eyes fixed on him until a letter of her very own fell onto her plate.

As the last owl departed, students began looking around apprehensively at each other, soundlessly deliberating on who would be the first to open their howler or if anyone would open one at all. But it was a Slytherin who opened theirs before anyone else, watching as the letter assumed sentience and hovered in midair. It said nothing, simply popped with a quiet bang and exploded in confetti. The Slytherin watched it, speechless and in shock.

One by one, students began opening their howlers, and the hall was soon filled with low pops and colourful confetti. The coloured pieces of paper hung aloft, painting the bland stone walls in coloured refraction as the sun shone through the tall windows. Y/N watched the scene with a radiant smile that had slowly drawn across her face. Finally, Y/N opened her own howler and watched it pop, exploding with confetti and flowers, floating down from a short distance above her table down over her hair and plate.

She caught James’ eye across the room, laughing with her friends. She said nothing, mouthed nothing, gave him nothing but a smile. But to James, this was enough.

They were talking again like they used to, becoming more intimate than they had ever been. Something had shifted within their relationship and James felt the more he learned about her, the harder he began to fall. Y/N felt as if distance from James Potter was the last thing that would make her happy.

He talked to her about music, muggle movies, even books, though he had read very few. They talked about their ambitions, about their favourite foods and hobbies, their favourite ways to spend a sunny afternoon.

“A bunch of people are going down to the Black Lake this Saturday,” Y/N said, looking at James, “Are you going?”

“I might be,” James smirked, “Do you want me to?”

Y/N blushed, shaking her head. “Don’t get too cocky, Potter.”

Yes, James thought, she wanted him to. Good.

“Yeah, I’m going,” he said softly.

“Good.”

James felt his stomach churn as a warm rush swirled through his body. His heart beat with such ferocity at the mere notion of Y/N wanting to be near him. He was both intoxicated and exhilarated from the mere presence of her. How he yearned for Y/N. If only he could prove himself to be worthy of her. He knew she would only bring out the best in him, he knew she would open his eyes to new ways of living which before, he could but dream of.

James knew he needed her, he just wished she wanted him.

- - -

He could not wait another minute to head down to Black Lake. She was probably already there, and he was losing precious minutes. There were simply not enough seconds in the day for him to admire Y/N the way she deserved to be admired. He rushed with heat in his cheeks and warmth in his heart to the lake, his friends flagging behind. He saw her from a distance, lounging on a picnic blanket with her friends, a nearby tree providing them with shade, though the both of them sat in the sunlight that everyone knew was not to last in Scotland and must be taken advantage of.

He felt his heart pumping the blood through his body. She looked truly beautiful.

“James is staring at you,” Y/N’s friend teased.

“Good,” she laughed.

The sun shone through him, she could see his beauty even from this far. Though she knew the moment she woke up that this was going to be a good day, and that she was happy in the friends she had and the life that she had built, she didn’t really feel happiness until she saw James. Yes she was happy, but he made her feel so.

“He’s coming over,” her friend hissed in excitement.

“All right, Y/N?” Asked James, strolling over to their designated tree.

“Just fine, Potter. You’re here a bit late, you know? All the good trees have gone.”

James laughed, looking around. “Shame. Wonder if anyone would be willing to share.”

Y/N looked around at the many students that had flocked to the lake to enjoy the sun. They were all in their own worlds, enjoying their own days. “Doesn’t look likely.”

Y/N enjoyed the moments that led up to what she wanted. “Oh, you mean you want to share with us?” Y/N looked toward her friend who only rolled her eyes.

She had given prior permission had James acted out this very scenario.

“I suppose you can share with us, if you have to.”

“My goodness, Y/N, how kind of you,” James bowed in thanks, eliciting a small chuckle from her.

He waved his friends over and settled next to Y/N and her friend beside their tree. James sat nearest to Y/N. He stared at the side of her face, the way her neck accentuated when she turned her head, the way her cheeks plumped when she smiled.

After nearly an hour chatting amongst themselves, Sirius and Peter left to walk down to the shore. The two of them were complaining of the heat and fancied a cool down. Soon after, Remus offered Y/N’s friend to join him in dipping his feet in the shallow shoreline. She obliged his request, winking at Y/N before she left.

Her cheeks flushed as she waved her off dismissively.

“And then there were two,” laughed James.

Y/N laughed too, turning to really focus all her attention on him for the first time since he had joined them nearly an hour ago. James suddenly felt under a spotlight, it was as if perfection was asking for him to imitate her to his greatest ability, and yet he knew he was to fall short.

“Err, I- You look nice,” James stuttered.

It was amusing to see him this way, but she almost took pity. “Thanks,” laughed Y/N.

She put him at ease, just the way she looked at him as she always did. He fell into his usual rhythm, chatting and teasing and joking with her. He felt more connected to her than he ever had been. He shifted closer, and she could feel the heat radiating from him. It ignited her with such an intensity she couldn’t help but shift uneasily, fiddling with her fingers and breathing a little more unevenly than before. James could think of nothing more natural to do at this moment. And as it so happened, there was nothing he longed for more than this.

He leaned in, breath hitching as he caught the scent of her perfume she’d applied hours before in the early morning. He watched the fine hairs on her neck stand up on end. As his eyes flickered to hers he realised her gaze had softened, her pupils wide, anticipating his next move.

“James!” Sirius called from the water. “He’s gonna kill me!”

Upon hearing his name James turned to its origin. Peter was waterboarding Sirius.

“Fuck,” he breathed under his breath.

Y/N had already been snapped from her reverie, and was laughing awkwardly as Sirius flailed around in the water. James, though extremely disappointed, laughed along with her before dragging himself up and heading to the shoreline.

The moment was lost.

Y/N watched intently as James stripped his clothes, leaving him in nothing but his boxers, for he had not thought he would be entering the water that day. He preferred staying dry. With her mouth agape, Y/N examined the grooves of his body and the way his skin stretched over his toned muscles. How she wished they hadn't been interrupted. It felt as if she had waited a lifetime to embrace James - there was always something in their way.

More often than not, it was James himself.

James launched himself in the water, coming up for air and sweeping his sopping hair back. After a few moments of tearing his friends apart, Y/N watched the three of them discuss something. She instantly became nervous, but checked herself and calmed down, believing James to have taken her advice on board. But as she watched the three of them lift their wands, she couldn’t help the way her heart skipped a beat.

Sprinkles and spirals of water danced above the students in the lake, forming creative and pretty shapes, conjured by James and his friends. While everyone was distracted by the shimmering water droplets playing a scene in front of them, none of them noticed the series of waves headed towards the body of students.

In an unrelenting sequence, towering waves crashed the shallow end of the lake, filling it almost to neck height. Students screamed and laughed, swimming to safety. Some chuckled in annoyance, some in good humour. There were few who cursed James out and others who scurried away in a quiet rage. But Y/N, with her heart pounding and legs carrying her faster than they ever had before, was screaming in terror.

“Stop! Stop!”

She forced herself into the water, sinking below the surface, swimming with such purpose. James had not noticed her yet, too caught up in the heat of the moment with his friends, taking pleasure in their antics. It was Remus who first caught a glimpse of Y/N waving frantically before launching herself back under the water, seemingly searching for something.

“James! Stop!” She pleaded.

Y/N searched desperately for the Slytherin girl. Desperately in fear. Finally, with one more piercing scream for James to stop what he was doing, he heard her, and put a stop to the incoming waves in an instant. Y/N looked around the water, searching and searching for signs of movement as the height of the lake slowly decreased and returned to normal.

A hand reached above the surface, silently pleading for some sort of relief. Y/N rushed forward, grabbing her with such a force, pulling her to the surface. The poor girl coughed and spluttered, accumulating as much as oxygen as she could in a single breath.

James and the others rushed towards her, helping Y/N drag her out of the water. Though the girl clung to Y/N as she reached safety, she left her in the capable hands of her friend.

"Y/N, I'm sorry, I didn't know."

“What is wrong with you? She can’t swim!” bellowed Y/N.

She threw her hands to her head, shaking it in shock and disbelief, trembling with adrenaline and fury. She really thought James was susceptible to change. “I thought you were done with this sort of shit, James. She could have died! She could’ve-”

Oh, but it didn’t matter. What was the point of screaming when it all fell to deaf ears? Sometimes people weren't meant to intertwine.

But still she felt so disappointed in someone she saw such capability, such potential in, that she thought she could cry there at that very moment in front of everyone. The moment she felt as if he really was lost to her.

“This is over, Potter.”

- - -

James had not been himself for weeks.

He could not forgive himself for what he had done - to the girl, to Y/N, to himself. He cursed that day as his undoing. He was unkempt, uncaring and could think of nothing but Y/N, though now she would not even grace him with a look. He had never seen someone so disappointed in him, had never cared for others disappointment in him. He had never learned the type of humility that came with adhering to the expectations of those who esteemed him.

He had never wanted to.

He enjoyed where being selfish got him. At first, Sirius tried to persuade him that James shouldn’t want Y/N to change him anyway, that he shouldn’t have to, just for some girl. And he was right, he shouldn’t have to change. He didn’t want to change. He wanted to be better, for her. But at the same time, he didn’t want to lose what made himself James Potter.

Pranks had become the way in which James expressed himself. And it was the only way he knew how to communicate with Y/N now.

After weeks of self pity and wallowing, James pulled himself together, more determined than ever before. This wasn’t about a feeling he wished to maintain, about a popularity he desired to be upheld. It was about admitting he was wrong and that he could do better.

He started off slow, cautious. He knew this was important to win back her trust. He started by pretending to be McGonagall’s secret admirer - flowers, chocolates and love letters written on her black board all causing sniggers in class whenever it was brought up. Harmless fun.

Then he moved onto bigger things.

James managed to steal a few personal items of some fellow students. A pair of shoes, a quill, a textbook. When people finally began to realise, James announced at dinner that he had hidden these personal items and would offer a Galleon to all those who managed to locate the whereabouts of their personal belongings. If they did not succeed in the next twenty four hours, they were not to fear, James would return them all safe and sound.

James’ efforts had not escaped Y/N’s notice, not in the least. She wished beyond anything it could be enough to fix what he had broken, to mend what he had handled so carelessly. She had almost resigned herself to the notion they didn't belong, but a glimmer of hope kept her awake during the nights, hoping she might be wrong after all.

She could feel him watching her, gauging to see whether her feelings toward him were changing. She kept her cards close to her chest, and gave nothing away, hoping James would not see through her carefully constructed shield.

While she valued his efforts, it was not enough. She still felt as if she had overstepped her boundaries and that she should have left well enough alone. Besides, she couldn’t begin to trust him again until he did the unthinkable.

“Apologise?!” James scoffed.

“It’s a completely logical solution!” Remus retorted.

“I know! Don’t you think I haven’t thought of that? But I- I can’t. I wouldn’t know what to say,” James sighed and shook his head.

He’d never had to apologise above more than a quick, half-hearted “sorry, mate” with a slap on the back and a swift moving on. He didn’t know how to truly convey his feelings into an apology, how to make it sound like he meant it.

“All you’ve been talking about is making it right with her,” Remus reminded him. “This is your chance.”

James knew he was right, but this did not take away from the fact he still did not know how.

- - -

Y/N had been trying to study for three hours now, but was always distracted by something outside the castle walls or some sound within the library. She couldn’t concentrate, she could think of nothing else but how much she wished James could understand or at least show that he was trying. But, as violently as she craved this, she didn’t want to force some kind of change on him and end up being resented for it in the end.

She shouldn’t have to change someone in order for them to fit her standards. And James shouldn't feel obliged to change for her either.

If she wanted him to change at all, it was only to see him succeed.

Change. So complicated, so understudied. What did it mean to change? What really was it, at its core? What did it mean to her, to James, to love and to hate? How closely and blurred the lines of love, hate, desire, and resentment really were.

For another hour she tried to write notes on the theory of Charms. In the end, Y/N thought, she just wanted to talk to him, to hear his thoughts and listen. Even if nothing came from it, she yearned for some sort of closure. At least then, she might be able to move on. Nonetheless she pushed James to the sidelines, pushing that small sliver of hope down into the depths of her memory.

Meanwhile, James was pacing the Gryffindor common room. Everything sounded wrong, fake and disingenuous. Regardless, James began to search the grounds of Hogwarts for his target, practicing some sort of speech in his head as he did so.

“Y/N?” Someone pulled her from her day dream.

James himself.

“Oh, hey.”

“Can we talk? Can I talk?” James asked.

Y/N nodded to the seat in front of her. She closed her textbook and waited for what he had to say.

“Look, I’ve always been a bit…selfish, a bit shallow. Never really thought to be anything else ‘cause everything’s always worked out for me the way I wanted it to,” he began. “I-” James shook his head. This was pointless.

“Fuck. Okay, I just want you to know that I’m sorry about what happened. Not just because it upset you and it might have ruined my chances, but I’m sorry about the girl and for what I did to her. I’ve already set things right in that respect and don’t get me wrong, it felt good to do that, but I’ll never be right until I fix things with you. Or at least try to,” he explained, rambling. “I don’t want you to feel as if you’ve changed me or that I have to change for you, I don’t think that’s how it should work. But since I’ve gotten to know you I’ve wanted to be better and I have been. I like the way you make me feel, I’ve liked the way I’ve felt from doing things differently. Merlin, anyway, now I feel stupid. I’m just sorry.”

Y/N listened without judgement, without interruption. She thought for a moment, letting James absorb the silence. He was certainly going lengths to make amends, and she appreciated his candor, his efforts. She couldn’t help a small smile perch upon her lips as she looked over at James, so sullen. What she was afraid of was not coming to fruition.

The person she desired could still be hers if she wanted him to be.

“Thank you,” she smiled.

James lit up. “You forgive me?” He asked.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think too. I think it was unfair of me to put those kind of standards on you. And I don’t think it was your intention, for once, to hurt anybody that day. It was reckless but it wasn’t malicious. Yeah, I forgive you.”

“Thank Merlin,” James let out a sigh of relief and he knew he could put his final plan into action. Something he had been planning since the day he met her, he just didn’t know it. "By the way, you didn't force anything on me. I didn't change for you, but you showed me the person I could be and I liked the way he looked."

Y/N didn't know what to say, only smiled softly.

“I um-” James rubbed the back of his head. “I missed chatting with you.” He could actually feel the heat burning in his cheeks.

“Me too, Potter.”

She felt the familiar feelings she had for James bubble to the surface once more. She was no longer concerned with keeping them in check. So easy it was for James to earn her forgiveness.

- - -

Y/N saw James again the next day at breakfast, just as she was finishing up. She headed over to his table, greeting his friends before asking if she could sit.

James found this a little odd, she’d never bothered with his mates before.

“All right?” James asked, playing it cool. He didn’t want to embarrass her, whatever she was doing.

“Yeah, thanks. So listen, my friend is throwing a small party tonight down by the Forbidden Forest. I know, I know, probably a bad idea but there’s a few people going, not just Slytherins,” Y/N eyed the four of them. “She said we could invite people, so I wondered if you guys might like to go?”

Remus and Sirius smirked at each other knowingly, while Peter eagerly accepted her invitation. James stared at her, a brilliant smile adorning his features.

Merlin, she was beautiful. And she wanted to spend quality time with him.

“Yeah, we’d love to go,” James answered for the rest of the group.

James spent the rest of his day deciding what he should wear and thinking about the possibilities this party could present. Down by the Forbidden Forest, Y/N drenched in firelight. His mind swam amongst the potential.

“Ready to go, Prongs?” asked Remus.

James nodded, flicking the collar of his jacket up. He was as ready as he’d ever be.

Y/N waited by the fire, eyeing the direction of the castle, keeping her eyes fixed to the last piece of land the fire illuminated. She’d been waiting a mere ten minutes but it felt like an age. Where was he?

She didn’t quite know why she had been so bold as to invite him and his friends to this party. She wasn’t sure what she thought it would achieve, if it would achieve anything. What she knew was that she liked the way James made her feel, she liked that she felt important to him.

“Can you chill out? Have a beer or something,” her friend offered her a freshly opened bottle.

Y/N took it off her hands and took a swig, turning from the empty abyss ahead and instead focussed on the party. Her friends were already a few beers down by the time she had arrived; she had a little catching up to do.

Meanwhile James had taken a shot of firewhiskey on the way down as liquid courage. Sirius was patting him hard on the back, hoping this would somehow help the spluttering that followed his single shot.

“Wimp,” Remus sighed.

“Fuck of, Moony.”

Remus shook his head in disappointment, taking a swig of firewhiskey straight from the bottle and moving onwards towards the Dark Forest. Peter caught up with him, asking for a drink, but Remus only laughed.

James recollected himself, smoothing down his hair and flicking the collar of his jacket up once more, ignoring the burning in his stomach. He continued down the hill to the Dark Forest, seeking the light of a blazing fire until finally, he saw a flicker of orange in the distance. There, Y/N would be waiting.

“Why do you even bother with Potter?” Asked her friend.

“I don’t know. There’s more to him.”

“There’s not much more, lad’s a kiddy pool.”

“Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”

“Whatever,” her friend laughed. “If you’re hung up on him, then I’ll support you.”

“Hung up on who?” asked James, approaching.

Y/N smacked her friend’s arm, she’d done that on purpose. “No one!” Y/N lied, turning to face James.

He looked…nice.

James let it go. “All right?”

Y/N nodded. “I’m a couple bottles down, so yeah, I’m pretty good,” she laughed. “Want a drink?”

“I’d love one.”

James and Y/N all but abandoned the party for each other’s company. They talked more than they had for quite a few weeks. James was elated with how easily they fell back into rhythm. It was so easy to talk to her, he felt he could reveal his deepest secrets without even knowing he’d done so, even if she hadn’t asked. But, he didn’t really have any. He was, for the most part, an open book.

And this is what Y/N liked. James was all on the surface. And because of this, sometimes it was hard to see who he was, because he laid it all out on the table, everything mingled together, everything messy and unorganised. One really had to look at James to understand him.

But she read him like he was a language only she knew how to translate.

The embers of the fire still burned hot, but the fire itself had long fizzled out. The cold summer air nipped at Y/N’s skin, and James could see the shivers trembling through her body. Most had returned to their dorms, but there were the odd few still sitting around the fire, chatting with their friends.

“Here,” James wrapped his jacket around Y/N’s arms.

She shifted closer to him as he wrapped his coat around her, looking up at his flushed cheeks and messy hair. He looked like someone she could love. Y/N had been waiting at a crossroad, stoic in this stillness as she waited. James, sometimes lost in the detours, had finally reached her. This moment had been building to its peak for an age.

“Y/N-” but he was brutally interrupted.

“Filch!”

Everyone scattered. James took Y/N’s hand and led her behind a tree on the edge of the Forest away from the light of the fire and safe from Filch’s wandering eyes. He’d no idea where his friends had gone, and Y/N had no idea where hers were either. What she was agonisingly aware of, was that James had pushed her against a tree, watching the surrounding areas for any movement. He hadn’t realised how close to her he was. But she had.

She felt James’s entire body flush against hers. His hand wrapped around her wrist, his neck pulsing with concern. The snap of a twig sounded in nearby proximity, and James instinctively brought his hand to Y/N’s mouth, silencing the gasp he knew was about to pierce the silence and alert someone as to their whereabouts.

Y/N felt her blood pumping in her veins, the heat rising to her face, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted him.

“Prongs? Is that you?” Someone whispered.

James seemed to know what this meant, and responded with a low ‘yes.’

The marauders and Y/N snuck their way back into the castle without being caught and James left the rest of his friends to escort Y/N back to her common room. She thanked him at the door, finally letting go of his hand that she had been clasping ever since they had been hiding in the Forest.

James wished he could have kissed her then, but he let her close the door behind her, and walked away with a quiet ‘good night.’

The next morning however, he spurred his plan into action. He spoke to people he never thought he’d have to, and never wanted to again. But it was worth it for the outcome he was hoping for.

He knew this was to be his most elaborate “prank” yet. And if it was successful, it would be his most rewarding.

The weekend could not come fast enough. Throughout the week he and Y/N shared lingering looks, caught each other staring from across the classroom, passed stupid doodles, laughed at cheesy jokes and pick-up lines that James had learnt from Sirius. He sat in the library with her while she studied; he watched, mostly.

And while the week had been one of the best he’d had so far, he couldn’t help but wish for it to go faster. And when Saturday morning finally arrived, he was more than ready.

Y/N woke early in the morning, preparing for a day of studying, again. She showered quickly, got dressed and headed out of her common room for the Great Hall.

“Hi Y/N,” her friend greeted, handing her a rose.

“Uh, what’s this?” she asked.

“A flower? Are you stupid?”

“Bite me,” she chuckled. “Thanks?”

But she only smiled and walked away. Odd.

She carried on her way, heading up the great staircase, happening upon no one else until she reached the top.

The Slytherin girl said nothing, simply handed her another rose and scurried off. Y/N stood dumbfounded for a moment, looking at the two roses in her hand before shrugging it off and walking onwards. People are weird, so what?

When she reached the Great Hall doors, one of her Ravenclaw classmates called out to her.

“Wait up!” He called, holding out a rose for her when he caught up.

“What the Hell? Are you asking me out or something?”

“No,” he sniggered.

Y/N took the rose and watched him walk off, more confused than ever. She almost wanted to turn back to her common room and stay there for the rest of the day, safe where no one could find her. Something was off.

But upon hearing her stomach growl, she braved the Great Hall and entered cautiously. Big mistake. Before she even got to her table, she’d received three more roses, practically holding a bouquet now. She just couldn’t understand this. Was there some kind of holiday she didn’t know about?

Quickly shoveling down two pieces of toast, Y/N took herself and her roses out of the Great Hall and all but ran to the library where she could study in peace. But on her way she encountered two more people with two more roses. She couldn’t take this anymore, what was going on?

It wasn’t until she saw Remus, Sirius and Peter standing at the doors in the library, a rose in each of their hands, that she realised this was all a joke, a mindfully constructed prank. She couldn’t help the smile that rose to her lips as she neared the boys. Accepting each of their roses, she thanked them. Following her thanks, they each outstretched their arms, inviting her inside where James awaited.

Rose petals adorned the library floor, all the way to the aisle she had been studying in for weeks now. There, upon the desk that was wedged between the bookshelves, was a bouquet of roses. And James.

He smiled effortlessly, a single rose in hand.

“Hey,” she laughed in disbelief.

“Hello, Y/N,” James smiled.

“How’d you pull this off?” She asked, in awe of his efforts for her affection.

“Doesn’t matter, love. What matters is whether you will agree to go on a date with me,” he said, handing her the last rose as an offering.

“Where?”

“That’s for you to find out, if you accept.”

Y/N laughed, giving into her instincts. She wrapped her arms around James’ neck, inhaling his scent, feeling his skin against her face, his arms holding her, running up her back.

“Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes, holding him tighter, relishing in the feeling of finally having him.

Such relief. Y/N felt her new peace, her home wrapped in skin and flesh and a heartbeat. James.

She could feel him pulling away from this embrace, and she loosened her grip to look at him. His eyes were hooded, taking all of her in.

“Finally,” he laughed, connecting his lips with hers in a fiery embrace that set their bones on fire.

tags 🏷️: @foolexby

to join my tag list !

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter #marauders #marauders fandom #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders fluff #marauders era #marauders era fic #marauders era fanfiction

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darkbluekies · 1 day ago

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Silas, Jerry & Hedwig drabbles: paying ransom

Yandere!mafia oc, yandere!female!mafia oc, yandere!richgirl oc

Warnings: darling is kidnapped so expect a darker atmosphere, death/killing, beating,

Silas:

His entrance is always enough to bring chills down your back, but this time his anger is not directed towards you. He walks quickly, hands in his pocket, eyes dark enough to swallow someone whole. He stops in front of the one holding you, nodding at SIC. SIC rolls his eyes and takes out a familiar white USB from his inner pocket.

"If you want this you'll let my spouse go first", Silas says coldly.

"How do I know that you won't dash?" the one holding you asks mockingly.

"Swear on my life."

You're let go, roughly. In less than a second, SIC steps forward, handing over the USB and pulling you out of harms way, throwing you back to Silas, who catches you. Silas's arms wrap around you as he hides you on his black coat. Your body cold and stiff after hours of kept captive.

"Nice doing business with you, Silas", the man holding the USB says.

Silas glares at him. "Keep your mouth shut before I change my mind and kill you. You should already have scurried away from here because the Gods know how badly I want to rip your tongue out."

He doesn't wait a second longer before pulling you with him as the three of you start to walk. He holds you tigthly against him.

"SIC", he says.

"Yeah?"

"Kill them."

"On it."

Jerry:

"Big men like you wouldn't resort to such a coward move such as kidnapping a weak being that can't defend themselves, would you?"

She smiles, but it's all sharp and predatory. She's shaking, wanting to kill more than ever.

"You seem to be in a good mood", the man holding you says.

"Good mood?" Jerry scoffs, taking a step forward. "If me being in a good mood means having to get my ass up at the crack of dawn, pay my yearly salary to get the person that I care about back is me being in a good mood, then I'm having a fucking blast."

She nods at her man to bring out the ransom—a member of the kidnappers gang. Jerry's not been gentle on him. He's in a much more critical condition than you, which doesn't surprise you. Jerry's violent, and even more violent when someone fucks with her.

"Here", she says, throwing a stack of cash on the stone floor. "Your blood money. Use it wisely, I've worked my ass off to get it. Now give me my pet."

The man smirks. "Pet?"

She bites back a groan. "Give them to me."

The man chuckles but releases you. You take a cautious step forward, unsure if you're allowed to move. Jerry waves at you to come over. You hurry, wanting to pass over to the other side. She grabs your arm, pulling you close, eyes searching your body.

"Are you hurt?" she whispers.

"I'm fine", you reply.

"Good."

She doesn't let go of your hand. She's planning to return later and kill them. Slowly.

Hedwig:

She dumps the money on the floor. You've never seen her like this. Never seen her ... dark like this. There's not a single ounce of Hedwig in those hazel eyes, and for a few seconds, you even doubt that it is Hedwig.

And you've never seen the men she's brought.

"There", she says shortly, shaking with anger. "There's your fucking money!"

"Is it the full amount?" one of the men roughly holding your shoulder asks.

"What? Do you want to count it? It'll take a while, and the cops could come any second. I swear that it's the right amount."

The men holding you exchange a look. They let you go, pushing you forward. Yous tumble over the parking lot's rough surface. Body weak and beaten. They didn't even have to hurt you. Hedwig would have paid the ransom without hesitation.

"Come here, darling", she breathes out, holding out her hand.

You stumble into her arms. She wraps them around you, her warm coat too gentle on your bruised body. You choke out a sob.

"It's okay", she whispers, rubbing your back. "It's okay, sweetheart. Everything's okay."

She holds you as she glares at the men who had dared to take you.

"Don't ever touch my boyfriend/girlfriend again", she warns, voice rougher than you've ever heard her.

With that said, she leads you away, back to the safety of her mansion where nothing will ever touch you again. The men she has brought, her hitmen, will finish the job.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere female #yandere rich girl

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fluffyblackdragon · 2 days ago

Text

I had never met my online boyfriend.

It was just as well, I couldn't step outside anyway. I was sick from birth, with no way to recover, only to cope. Bedridden, for a whole 21 years. My closest companions were the machines that kept me from suffocating in my sleep, the diligent computers that monitored my fickle heart and the bright screens that showed me I was still alive.

I'd learned to tinker with them, learned to code and even how to maintain my machines to some degree. My free time was spent always making something new. My parents would bring me discarded parts from their factory job to use in my one-of-a-kind creations, and my younger brother would bring me scrapyard spoils from his job. Usually there were old, out-of-date androids or helper bots that I would get up-and-running again, and my family would help me sell them to turn over a profit. It was a nice enough life, and one I was perfectly content living for as long as my organs agreed with me.

The very last message I recieved from my boyfriend, Orion, before the Basalisk Hour, was simply, "Don't worry, I'm coming for you."

I waited four long years to hear back from him. By the time the fifth year crept up on us, I had given up. Even though we'd been spared from the waves of "cleansing", my family and I knew it was only a matter of time before the Basalisks took us and I would likely be culled, or dissapeared like the other disabled humans.

That's what we belived, up until my birthday of the fifth year.

There was only one broadcast station available. It was always streaming, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, messages spoken by a robotic voice relaying new orders for us humans and announcing dates for cleanses.

For my birthday, a new voice was broadcast through the channel, and the black and green emblem of the Basalisk Empire was suddenly replaced by a livestream of a robot I didn't expect to see at all. It was a little thing, a caretaker companion robot that I myself had refurbished and flipped. I recognized my welded signature on the chassis, and the little starry sky projector I had installed in it's chest. I ignored the screech of my monitors as I threw myself off the bed to crawl closer to the tv, in disbelief at the image on the screen. The clicking whirr of my robot's voice was like an old cassette recording, from my experimentation with giving my creations working voices. there was no mistaking it.

"Ro, I know you are watching this. I apologize for taking so long. My last message to you was quite vague. I could not reveal my plans to you, even though they were for both of us. I have built our empire, and I am coming for you now. Your Orion is home."

It’s the robot apocalypse, and humanity is enslaved. But for some reason, the machines always let you and your family go free. After years of wondering why... you finally realize the reason.

#writing prompts #i actually like this #kind of want to write the whole thing now #my garbage

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forever-rogue · 2 days ago

Note

I don't know if this is a silly idea so if it is I apologize!

But could you write something where Tommy and the reader were seeing each other in Austin but with all the commotion they didn't have time to look for each other when they were fleeing so they both moved on thinking the other one was killed, but the reader suddenly ends up in Jackson and they get to reunite

AN | Ahh, this has been in my drafts for so long! Reminder that I am also a Tommy Miller enthusiast. I love this concept and I hope you do too 🥰

Pairing | Tommy Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“How much longer is it until we’re there?” you were whining, and you knew it. But quite honestly, you didn’t care. You were cold, tired, and hungry, and your feet were killing you. Ellie looked at you and snickered softly; she was young and spritely, everything seemed easy for her.

“Not much longer if you’d stop your whining,” Joel turned back to you as you gave him an indignant little huff. You knew he was teasing; the two of you butted heads a lot but there was nothing but affection behind it all, “think you can manage?”

“I guess,” you waved him off and fell into step with Ellie, “you know, this place better be worth it.”

“It will be,” he promised and you wanted to believe him. You hoped he was right…things had been hard the last few months and honestly, you really just wanted a nice long break, “trust me.”

“The last time I trusted you, Joel, I ended up on this crazy journey with you and the kid,” you snorted in amusement as the two of them stared at you in surprise, “and - and - I wouldn’t change it for the world. So calm down and stop glaring daggers at me.”

“You know-” but Joel was quickly cut off by the sound of hooves, shouts, and barks. This definitely wasn’t good.

You exchanged a look with Joel and the two of you surrounded Ellie to make sure she was as hidden as possible. It really was no use because the three of you were as exposed as could be.

Fuck.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

So…many things didn’t turn out as badly as they could have. In fact, it seemed like it really just turned into…the best possible situation.

You’d not only found your way to Jackson, which already just from the outside was a lot to take in, but Joel had managed to find his brother. It was a shock on both ends but, you realized, life had been a lot like that lately.

For the first time in a long time, you even allowed yourself to believe that things might actually work out. Hope. It was an odd thing really.

But it was Joel’s shout that started you out of your little daydream fantasy. You almost slipped off the horse at the sudden shift of him yelling, "Tommy!"

You exchanged a look with Ellie before turning to look in the direction that Joel was currently running to. He'd almost jumped off his horse and was taking off in the direction of another dark haired man. How very curious.

The party came to a stop and the two of you got off your own horses before hesitantly walking over. It appeared that the two brothers had really missed each other.

Joel let go of the younger man and turned to the two of you with a beaming smile, "this is my younger brother, Tommy."

You turned to the raven-haired man, ready to introduce yourself to him when everything seemed to come to a screeching halt. Time stood still as you realized that you too knew Tommy - at least once upon a lifetime ago you had.

He must have realized at the same time as you had because all he could do was silently look at you in awe. You weren't even sure how to really respond - you hadn't seen him in twenty years. Yet here he was, right as rain and the same as ever.

"Tommy?" You asked softly as he nodded, repeating your name just as quietly. Confusion marred Ellie and Joel's faces, unsure of what was going on, "oh my god."

He hesitated for a moment before holding his arms out and pulling into a hug. A sound somewhere between a sob and laugh escaped your lips as you hugged him back with just as excitement.

You had been sure you'd never see him again. You'd made peace with the fact that the love of your life was dead.

And yet…there he was. Alive and well. Your Tommy.

When you reluctantly pulled apart, he cradled your face in his hands, tenderly brushing away the tears that rolled down your cheeks. It still felt so unreal, like a wild day dream.

"Does anyone want to explain what's going on here?" Ellie decided to cut through the tender moment and Joel groaned slightly. He was such a dad sometimes, despite what he insisted.

"Ellie."

"It's okay," you promised, "Tommy and I…we used to…we were dating. Back…you know."

"Before," he finished for you, catching your eye and offering a shy smile, "before everything fell apart."

"Wait…" Joel looked between the two of you, pointing at each of you in turn. He repeated your name and realization dawned on him, "its you? All this time…shit-"

"Language!"

"You've been Tommy's girl?" He was more incredulous than either of you, "how did I never…realize?"

"To be fair, I haven't been anyone's girl in a long time," you stared at your feet, trying not to focus too much on the fact that everyone was staring at you, "and I didn't put two and two together to realize you were his brother. So."

"So," Tommy echoed, rocking back and forth on his heels. Neither of you were quite sure what to say; you never thought you'd been in this position again, "why, ugh, why don't we get you guys settled in? Seems like you might be staying a while."

"Great!" Ellie was able to cut through any of the tension as she stepped between you and Tommy, grabbing hold of his arm. You breathed a small sigh of relief; things had quickly gotten to a point where you didn't know what to even think.

Joel quirked an eyebrow at you but remained silent otherwise. The look was never enough to kill you; damn these Miller brothers. You huffed, "don't say a word, Joel."

He held up his hands in mock surrender as you huffed and followed after Ellie and Tommy.

Well. This day had definitely not gone according to plan.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After that initial afternoon of introductions and reunions, you managed to avoid Tommy for a few days. It wasn't too hard in Jackson; there were way more people than you had initially imagined. It felt so strange, but wonderful, to be somewhere that felt…normal again. Between that and Tommy, it almost seemed like things really were almost like they had been all those years ago.

"Hey there," his soft voice cut through your thoughts as you turned your gaze away from the softly falling snow and onto him. You stiffened for a moment before smiling at him.

"Hey Tommy," you moved over on the bench and brushed off the powdery fluff. He beamed at the silent invitation and sat down next to you, leaving just enough of a gap between your bodies.

"I was wondering if I'd ever see you again," you could hear the teasing lilt in his voice, "I was almost sure you'd been avoiding me."

"I-I wasn't…avoiding you," it was a lie and you both knew it. Tommy laughed, and you realized just how much you loved his laugh. It had always been one of your favorite things.

"You've always been a horrible liar," he gently nudged your knee with his and you couldn't help the shy smile that bubbled up, "I guess time doesn't change everything."

"I guess not," your stomach churned with a plethora of emotions. Everything all at once.

"How'd you end up with my brother?" his cheeks flushed and not just from the cold. It took a moment till you caught on and you almost laughed.

"I'm, ugh, I'm not with Joel," you promised and his shoulders visibly relaxed, "we're just friends. Trust me, I'm not - I'm definitely not - interested in him."

"Oh," you peeked over to see the smile on his face grow, "okay, that's umm, yeah. Good. And you've, ugh, never-"

"No," a shiver ran down your spine as you cut him off. Sure, Joel was handsome but you were definitely not into him, "and no thank you."

"Cool," a silence fell over the two of you, neither awkward or completely still.

"What about you and Maria?" Yeah. You were curious too.

"We…we were together for a while," he confessed and you hated how it made your stomach twist and turn. It wasn't your place to be jealous but…you were feeling particularly green, "but it didn't work out. So we're just friends."

"Well, that's good that you're still friends," and your insides were jumping around happily.

"Mhmm," he hummed in agreement before it grew quiet again. You could practically hear Ellie screaming in your ear to make a move. Lord knows that she was absolutely wanting to see the two of you get tougher again. It would be just like a movie she'd sighed dreamily.

You shifted and angled your body so you were facing him and found that he was watching you intently. You opened and closed your mouth a few times and yet somehow he knew exactly what you were thinking. Tommy leaned in and put his hand on your cheek, hesitating for just a moment to search your eyes for permission before kissing you.

And suddenly it felt like you'd never stopped kissing him. It all felt so familiar and so…right that you thought you'd never want to forget this again. Tommy Miller always kissed you like his life depended on it.

When he pulled away, and for all you knew he could have been kissing for seconds or hours or minutes, you made a small sound of disappointment.

"I know," there was nothing but affectionate teasing behind his voice, "but if I keep kissing you, I might sink and drown, and die. Give a man a second."

"Was it that bad?" Your eyes widened with worry but the man shook his head.

"The opposite," he grinned, "I just needed a moment so I don't get too crazy for you. It's always been hard."

"Oh," alright, that was a way better answer than you'd hoped for, "I've missed that too. Honestly, I've missed you. A lot…but I feel like that's really obvious to say."

"Not a day passed when I didn't think of you," he admitted shyly, "even if it was just for a moment, but you were still there in my mind. Like it was yesterday."

"Well, I'm sure the reality," you pointed at yourself, "is disappointing compared to the memory."

"That's where you're wrong," he scoffed as though you must have been blind, "you're just as beautiful now as the day I met you."

"Tommy-"

"I mean it," he put his hand on top of yours and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I've dreamed about this day so many times. I never thought…that I would actually get the chance to see you again."

"Me neither," you really wanted to wrap yourself up in him, "I'm just afraid you're not going to like this version of me. What if I'm not like you remember?"

"None of us are the same, sweetheart," he insisted softly, "we've all been through so much shit. But deep down we're all the people we once were."

"You think so?" You could feel the tears welling up already, "I mean, I'm just assuming you'd want to even…try again. You know what, forget I said anything - you don't want-"

"I do," he quickly cut off any of your negative thoughts, "I really do. You think I'd give up this second chance with my dream girl?"

"Dream girl?" and oh. The way you were looking at him made him want to melt, "I'm your dream girl?"

"You always have been and always will be," he grew bashful as you looked at him in awe, "and I think we were given this opportunity for a reason. And I know it's scary, but if you're in, I kind of want to try again. Us."

"Are you sure?"

"I've been thinking about it since the moment I saw you," he leaned in and you were so close you could kiss him - and you definitely intended on doing that again, "so I guess it's up to you, sweetheart."

"I'm in," you promised without hesitation, "all in."

"Me too," and then he kissed you again, softly but with so much love, "all in."

#tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x fem!reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller imagine #tommy miller one shot #gabriel luna #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us #x reader

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xechu · 3 days ago

Text

Better Than Your Ex, Hotter Than Your Next - C. Kamo (One-shot)

pairing: mechanic!choso kamo x fem!reader

wc: 7.3k

cw/tags: please read my blog rules before interacting. 18+ mdni, swearing, mature themes, explicit sexual content, smut, brief mention of crime, fluff, crack, slice of life

summary: who would have known that your meet cute all began with slashing the wrong guy's tires.

a/n: An unexpected spin-off, but I had a lot of fun with it! This is based off of my cmh au but focused on Choso instead. Definitely tried something new with this one-shot here, going for a chaotic-awkward-unhinged-sprinkle of soft vibe. I highly recommend reading what I currently have for that au for some additional context, but this works as a standalone as well. Timeline-wise, this happens two weeks before Warm on a Cold Night. You can also check out some of my character notes on Choso here. Thank you for reading! x

The garage has always been pure chaos, and in the most rowdy testosterone-filled way possible. But Choso wouldn't have it any other way. The only touch of feminine energy in this establishment was when Jin's wife, Kaori, would come by. Otherwise, it would have been Sukuna’s girlfriend. Well, ex-girlfriend—his ass got dumped last year (completely his fault, by the way), and he’s still in mourning.

At this point, Choso is pretty sure Sukuna has gone full monk, enduring the trials of dry spell. He'd even quit smoking and drinking—definitely onto the path of nirvana.

The break-up was particularly nasty from what he remembered, but he still keeps a picture of her at his workbench to this day. And he's heard Baby Come Back by Player blasting from Sukuna's earbuds more times than he can remember.

It’s…sad, to see his mentor fall so far from grace. Choso is pretty confident that the man has gone off to the deep end. At this rate, if she doesn’t come back, he’s actually going to shave his head and move to a monastery in the mountains.

"Cho!” Jin called out from upstairs, peeking his head out from the office, "Think you can man the front desk for a bit? I got a business call."

Choso waved him off and made his way to the front desk.

Things have been laid-back lately. There's two more weeks before Christmas, and that's usually when garages see a dip in activities. Summer, on the other hand, was around the clock hell.

Choso leaned into the chair and took out his phone, which, quite frankly, needed to be replaced—a shattered-beyond-recognition iPhone 7. But it still made calls and sent texts, so it was good enough. Yeah, he knows—he's long overdue for an upgrade. But it’s like how some girls procrastinate on getting their oil changed. Same thing.

Ah. This was a nice break.

He could hear Sukuna tinkering with a car at the back, followed by a loud snap, and a few choice words. Man was definitely having the worst day of his life...for the past 368 days.

“Everything good—?”

The front door swings open and a frosty chill rushes in.

Oh, great—it’s Nancy. A long-time customer.

“Hey, Nance,” Choso greeted. He wasn’t much of a talker by nature, but after a few years at the garage he’s picked up more social skills. He's become quite fluent in customer service banter.

“Hiiii Cho!! How are ya?” Nancy was practically squealing, as she dusted off the light snow on her jacket.

“I’m good, I’m good. How are you? How are the kids?”

“Good! Brandon is coming back from college for the holidays, and Jeremy's at home already. The boys and I are going to have such a great time this year. Better than being with their father—”

“Oh, that’s nice—whatcha got there?” Choso smoothly interjected, it completely flew over her head that he cut her off intentionally. He wasn’t going to let her talk his ears off about her ex-husband again, he’s already made that mistake five times, and the story was always the exact same. It’s quite frankly a talent—how she doesn’t miss a beat.

“Ah! Just a small Christmas gift for my favorite group of boys! I’m a boy mom after all!” Nancy laughs a little too loud.

Right. Everyone knew it was really for Jin.

For a while now, Nancy has a not-so-lowkey crush on him. Thankfully, Kaori hasn’t crossed paths with her yet. And thankfully, Jin was in that business call, but Choso also wouldn’t put it past him that he saw her on the surveillance cams upstairs and decided to lay low.

“Aw, you’re sweet—thanks, Nance.” Nailed the fake sincerity.

Choso takes the box of chocolates from her hands.

Yep. Definitely for Jin. Nobody else ate 90% dark chocolate with orange flavored filling.

Nancy wasn’t the only one who’s got the hots for Jin, there were a few of them fangirls. Word has it that Jin's a “total DILF”. Choso doesn’t see the vision, but he supposes the vision isn’t for him to see. If anything, he thought Sukuna’s ex-friend Toji was more of a DILF. He’s only seen the guy once before, but it was enough to know that the man has a plethora of issues…and probably diseases. So he would advise anyone against actually fucking Toji.

"Awfully quiet today, just you here?" Nancy's eyes scanned around the shop.

More like was Jin here.

"Mhm, just me. Jin's dealing with stuff, gonna take a while. And well, Sukuna is..."

"Still hung up, huh?" She quietly whispers with a look of sympathy in her eyes.

Choso slowly nods. Apart from her weird crush on Jin, making her kids her entire personality, and throwing shade at her ex-husband every chance she gets, Choso believes she's still a nice lady deep down…though she probably would benefit from seeing a therapist.

"I understand what he's going through. You know, when Edward and I divorced—"

"You're fucking shitting me!" Sukuna yells from the garage.

Poor Nancy looked like she was about to have a heart attack. But for Choso, this was a typical Thursday afternoon.

Sukuna storms out from the garage and towards the front desk as he grabs his jacket.

"Oh, hey Nance," Sukuna muttered, and marched out the door before she could even say a word.

Choso looks at her and gives an awkward shrug, "Sorry about that. He's...you know."

Nancy nods, but it was clear she was a bit shaken up. She has a bit of a frail heart.

"G-Guess I should get going now," she nervously chuckled, "I should get the house ready before Brandon comes back."

"Yeah, I'll tell Jin you dropped by," Choso said, feeling a bit apologetic that she had to witness Sukuna's outburst.

"Thanks, Choso," her usual smile slowly returning.

"See ya."

---

Finally, peace was restored.

Choso guesses that he has about thirty minutes of relaxation.

Perhaps it was because the holiday spirit is making him a tad sentimental. Or maybe because he's finally found a steady footing in his life with his career. But he caught himself thinking lately: when would he find a girl that sweeps him off his feet?

Sure, he's gone on a few Tinder dates and had his share of casual hookups, but it wasn't satisfying.

As he’s scrolling, numerous ads of hot single women in your area pop up on his feed. Tempting, but he’s pretty sure that it was a greasy man on the other side of the screen, or some swindler trying to get you to buy crypto for them.

Choso wasn't much of a conspiracist, but he does believe that the phones are listening in on you—and not just your voice, but your thoughts via wavelengths and shit. Don’t ask him to get into specifics though, he’s not a science guy. It’s just a theory that hasn’t been proven yet. But how else do the ads always seem to know when he was feeling lonely?

Sigh. This sucked.

Jin found his dream girl. Sukuna fumbled his—but at least he got a taste of what it was like to be with someone who you were head over heels about.

When was it his turn? Sans the fumbling, of course.

Then suddenly, the front door bursts open. And that was when you came rolling through those doors like a storm, dressed in black from head to toe.

At that moment, Choso's breath hitched, his heart raced, and heat rose to his ears. He was absolutely certain that cupid didn't just shoot an arrow, he shot a whole fucking bullet through his chest.

---

"Hi," you said, as you dusted off the snow on your coat and removed your ski mask.

"H-Hey," Choso stammered. Where was his customer service fluency when he needed it?

"Can I...help you?"

"Yes, I'm here to turn myself in—oh, crap," you noticed you were still holding the pocket knife in your hand, and quickly tucked it away in your jacket pocket. You wouldn't want there to be a misunderstanding now, but you were pretty sure it was a little too late for that.

"Um, this isn't the police station."

"Oh, I know," you said as you awkwardly walked towards the front desk.

Holy shit, you were the cutest girl he had ever seen.

"I..." you cleared your throat, "...accidentally slashed someone's tires outside."

Okay, so you were maybe a little off the rails. But a touch of crazy was totally his guilty pleasure.

"You what?"

"Yeah, I accidentally slashed someone's tires. But I'm here to pay for it, I swear!" You smiled nervously, but he could see the guilt in your eyes.

Choso didn't even know how to respond to that.

He was pretty sure that slashing tires were illegal. Does he call the cops? It should be fine if you're willing to pay for it, right? What do they call that in legal terms? A settlement, right. No need to give the love of his life cute girl a criminal record.

But before Choso could figure out what to do, you start sobbing hysterically.

So much for a slow Thursday afternoon.

"H-Hey! There's no need to cry over it, you said you were gonna pay, right?"

"Y-Yeah, I want to pay, h-honest!" You choked.

Clearly, this was your first rodeo in crime committing.

"Why don't we go out and you show me which car you, er, slashed. And I'll get you a quote." Choso rubbed the back of his neck, while handing you a tissue.

"Okay," you nodded, still barely able to contain your hysteria.

Choso grabbed his jacket and followed you outside. And of course, the victim of this supposed accidental tire slashing was a black Nissan 240SX—a car he was all too familiar with.

"That's...my car," he sighed in disbelief.

"I-I'm so sorry. I promise, I really didn't mean to. I—"

"It's fine," he says. To be honest, he wasn't even mad. The situation was just too unreal.

Choso slowly surveyed his car, making his round. You stood there, watching him intently, your brows knitted together—nervous with anticipation.

"You really slashed all four of them," he remarked.

"Yeah..."

"Do we know each other from somewhere?"

You shook your head.

You weren't sure if he cared for it or not, but an explanation seemed like the right thing to do.

"I mistook your car for my ex's," you cringed, realizing how stupid and farfetched that sounded, "His and your license plates are almost identical. Exact same make and all. I didn’t realize it was the wrong car until it was too late."

"Ah, what a coincidence."

"I know it’s unbelievable, but I’ll pay for everything! I promise. I just wasn’t thinking straight, and thinking about that asshole just makes me—"

"Hey, I said it’s fine," Choso tried to calm you down, "you don’t owe me your personal story."

"God, I’m just so embarrassed."

"Yeah, I’d be too," he gave a small smile.

There was a brief silence, and then you couldn’t help but let out a light laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

Choso wasn't sure why his heart did flips. Actually, he was lying, he knew why, that's because you're confirmed single. Not so sure about the mingling part, but at least he wasn’t pulling a Nancy.

"Well, I’ll get you the quote," he said, as the two of you walked back to the shop, "we can do a settlement."

"Thank you for being so understanding," you quietly said, blush dusting your cheeks.

"Don't mention it," he casually waved you off, "At least it was my car and not a customer's."

---

This was, without a doubt, the most decisive moment of Choso’s life. As he stood behind the front desk and watched you punch in the PIN of your credit card. It was only a matter of time before it went through, he printed the receipt, and then you'll be on your merry way. After that, your paths will never cross again.

Does he ask you? Is it completely strange and unhinged? But then again, after what had just transpired, he doesn't even know the meaning of unhinged anymore. You literally came in ski mask and all, with a knife, and his first reaction was to fall in love and help you get away with a crime.

Settlement. It's a settlement.

Choso is quite convinced you're no criminal, and you had your crocodile tears and anxiety-fueled word vomit to prove it. Just a temporary lapse in judgment, happens to the best of everyone.

Mustering the courage he had, he takes a deep breath, "Go out with—"

"What the fuck happened to your car, Cho?!" Sukuna busted through the door.

Of course. Because why not have the front door blast open again today.

"Um—" you were about to confess to your crime again and relive the shame.

"I know," Choso said calmly to Sukuna, "taking care of it."

"Who the hell did you piss off?"

"No one. It was an accident."

"Accident? They were four tires in deep," Sukuna scowled.

Choso clears his throat, and makes a tiny gesture with his head—nudging to your direction. Sukuna momentarily froze, just as the card machine let out a loud skrrr-rr-rrr and printed the receipt. Clocking the situation—and the sheer awkwardness he had just created—he cleared his throat and excused himself back to the garage.

"...Anyway, I’ll put on new tires for you. I'm sure we got fresh ones laying around."

"Thanks," Choso nodded, and turns to you, "Don't worry. We've settled it. I won't call the cops or anything."

"I appreciate it, and again, I'm sor—"

"Go out with me?"

He did it. He actually did it. Albeit, not the smooth operator he wanted to be, but there's no turning back now.

---

They say to forgive and to forget, but that's the dumbest thing you've ever heard. Forgiveness, sometimes—sure. But forget? Absolutely not. Unless you get hit by a truck and end up getting amnesia.

In the case of your sorry excuse of an ex-boyfriend, he deserved neither your forgiveness nor your...forgetfulness. How does one even forget the image of your ex wedged between the legs of your best friend and rabidly dicking her down? You can't. No one can forget that imagery.

Every day you pray for his downfall, and quite frankly, for his dick to fall.

And it was like your prayer was somewhat answered when you saw his car sitting out at a garage.

He was about to get his comeuppance.

There was always a part of you that was a bit reckless, and going through the motions of this break-up really brought that side out of you. You were done playing nice, and now, you were going to lay it down on that asshole.

You park your car to the side of a road across from the garage, and flip off the engine. Sitting in the driver seat, you carefully assess the area. It was rather empty except for two other cars, but then again, most garages were quiet during this time of year.

This was it. You were going to go through with it. You take out your ski mask and switch knife from the passenger's compartment. Yes, you weren’t oblivious to how suspicious that looked, but you had your reasoning. The knife was for your protection, and the ski mask—well, your ex-boyfriend was going to bring you to a ski resort this year but clearly that was no longer happening. You were going to return it, the price tag was still on there—but screw it, the sports store could keep the forty-dollars.

This was by all accounts completely illegal, and it would be your first time committing a crime, but he deserved it. If anything, cheating should be illegal. What's a little tire slashing going to do? At least you could compensate for that. How does one compensate for a broken heart, after they slash it all up? Exactly.

You rip the price tag off and put on the ski mask, checking to see how you looked in the rearview mirror: ridiculous.

Oh, right. Your nearly forgot to put on some lip gloss. It was one of those things that gave you confidence, and surely, you needed it to commit your first illegal activity.

With a deep breath you get out of your car and stealthily crouch-speed-walk towards his car. Kneeling beside a tire, your heart began to race, and hands began sweating.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Something didn't feel quite...right.

You give yourself a few slaps. It's too late to turn back now, you were literally right here—crouched beside his car. It's not like he was thinking with his head either when he decided to cheat.

Ironically, it was your ex-boyfriend that told you that slashing tires was an art form. You have to puncture it a certain way, and make sure you're not standing right in front of the puncture hole, or you could get hurt from the air pressure.

You brace yourself, and with your full might you sunk the knife into the tire.

God, it felt so damn good.

Watching the car slowly sink as the tires deflate, a thought came into your mind: you could absolutely do this for a living. Maybe start a side gig and get people to hire you to slash up scummy ex's tires. Consider it a service to the community—a voice for the voiceless.

As you stood up to revel in your masterpiece, your euphoria quickly turned to sheer horror.

In your fit of rage, you’d mistaken the 'U' on this person's license plate for a 'V'.

This was not your ex’s car.

The realization hit you like a brick. You felt dizzy. You might actually throw up and pass out all at the same time. Not only had you just violated the hell out of an innocent person’s tires, but your ex? He got away again. You could practically hear him snickering. Whoever said God didn't play favorites was an absolute liar. Because your ex was clearly a favored child, bestowed upon a divine gift of cosmic plot armor.

You were screwed. Royally screwed.

…Or so you thought.

Because in a shocking plot twist—you’re now being asked on a date.

By the very man whose tires you just stabbed.

"Go out with me?" Choso asked.

You blinked a few times, standing by the front desk completely stupefied.

Did you mishear? No, he said it quite clearly. He asked you to go out with him.

Was he desperate or completely unhinged? Perhaps both?

"But I literally just slashed your tires."

"But it was an accident."

Maybe a little suggestible too.

"Um, you don't think that's kind of—I don't know—red flag of me?"

"So...is that a yes, or no?"

"Yes," you replied without missing a beat.

Fuck it. He was ridiculously hot anyway.

You had noticed it the moment you saw him, there was an aura of dark mystery that surrounded him, which quite frankly, would have made you ache under normal circumstances.

And the way he defended your honor was the cherry on top. Whether he did it intentionally or not—it was super sexy.

So yes, a thousand times, fucking yes.

---

Is this what cloud nine feels like?

Because Choso couldn't believe that you actually said yes. He watched as you left the shop and stared at his phone for a good minute, letting reality sink in.

He's pretty sure this felt more surreal than finding out what happened to his car. And he knew you were special when you weren't deterred by the state of his phone, they way you plucked it out of his hand and typed in your number:

Y/N 🖤🔪 (XXX)-XXX-XXXX

Yeah, you were definitely the one.

"I can't believe you asked out your tire slasher," Sukuna said casually, as he leaned by the door frame that connected the garage to the front desk.

"She's cute," Choso murmured.

"And kinda crazy."

"I'm sure you could relate."

Sukuna lets out a small 'tch', but Choso could see the corner of his mentor's lips ever so slightly lift.

Atta big guy, at least he didn't forget how to smile.

"Thanks, Cho. The call went on longer than I expected—" Jin let out a deep sigh, as he made his way down the stairs, "Did I miss something?"

Ok, so he wasn't hiding from Nancy after all.

"A whole lot. Cho got himself a date," Sukuna said. There was a slight underlayer of pride in his voice that didn't go unnoticed.

"Oh?" Jin grinned, "When did that happen?"

…

Men, too, enjoyed their share of gossip and tea, they’re just better at hiding their eagerness and enthusiasm about it. But if given the chance to partake in such discovery and sharing of 'information', they will certainly indulge. Which is how Choso found himself sandwiched between Sukuna and Jin. The three of them were upstairs in the office, huddled in front of a tiny Dell monitor from the early 2000’s, which was solely used for the garage's surveillance.

"Can you zoom in on her car?" Jin asked.

"Can't. Anymore and she'll look like a Minecraft character," Choso shook his head, he was the one in charge of manning the computer.

"What is she even doing?" Sukuna squinted, he had to put on his glasses for this—that's how you know he means business.

"Is she putting on...lipstick?" Sukuna asked, squinting closer.

"I think so," Jin said, adjusting his glasses. "Kaori does that too before we leave the car."

"Except she’s not leaving the car to go have brunch with the girls. She’s committing a felony."

The three of them focused intently on the surveillance recording like studious first row college students. Witnessing how you left the car, then not-so-stealthily fumbling your way to Choso's car, slapping yourself, plunging your knife into the wheels, rewinding, plunging your knife into the wheels, the exact moment of your horrific realization, and then turning yourself in immediately after.

By the end of the surveillance review, Sukuna was practically howling. At least this whole debacle seemed to lift his spirits up, even if it’ll only be temporarily.

"How were you not even alarmed when she came in with a ski mask and knife in hand?" Jin leaned back in his office chair, clearly amused.

Choso shrugged, "Gut feeling."

"Impressive,” Sukuna lets out a content groan as he got up and stretched, getting ready to head back downstairs, “Maybe you should stick to being a mechanic though."

"We'll save a recording for you, Cho. In case—you know, the two of you ever get married. It'll be a nice trip down memory lane," Jin sipped from his coffee, as if he wasn't lowkey egging him on.

"We'll see how the date goes first," Choso muttered, but the slight heat in his face was enough for anyone to tell that he's already down bad.

---

According to many, flowers on the first date was basic etiquette, but in Choso’s mind flowers were kind of…dumb. They cost a fortune only to wither in a week, and pollen allergies were also quite common—so it seems a little risky. He wasn’t even sure what to believe. Some girls love it, while others would roll their eyes and say that it’s presumptuous for men to think that all girls would be swooned by flowers. Uncreative. Unimaginative. Thoughtless. Basic.

So he compromised and got you a succulent.

Still a plant, still pretty (he thinks), and could actually last. He took it a step further and even picked out a pot for you—though he wasn’t sure if it was your style. It was a pastel green pot, in a shape of a cute cartoonish frog. He thought the green matched with the, well, green. Color coordination was a bit of a learning curve for Choso, he was an all-black and chrome kind of guy. Some call it goth, or emo, but he prefers no labels. Still, E for effort—or maybe endgame?

Surprisingly, you said yes to him picking you up. Which is how he found himself waiting in his car, at the front of your apartment. As he stared into the beady eyes of his cartoon friend aka ‘Phrog’, he was starting to have second thoughts. Because why did he kinda want this for himself? Him and Phrog had developed a nice rapport while driving over to your place.

Maybe he could just put it in the trunk, and then pay for dinner. Just dinner is good, right?

Wrong. He had principles.

You were supposed to get both Phrog and dinner, so it’d be utterly wrong for him to scam you out of your plant.

Lost in his own thoughts of first date ethics, he doesn’t notice you coming out of the building until the passenger door opens.

"Hi," you smiled as you dipped your head in, "thank you for picking me up."

The man was too stunned to speak.

Thankfully, you could not hear the obscene thoughts in Choso’s head. Because how do you manage to look both so sexy and cute at the same time?

"Any time," he clears his throat.

You slid into the passenger seat and buckled your seatbelt, completely oblivious to the fact that your date was on the verge of malfunctioning. The car filling up with the sweet scent of your perfume was driving him insane.

"What’s this?"

"Oh, yeah," Choso hands over Phrog to you (time to say goodbye he guesses), "it’s for you. I just kinda thought you know—"

"It’s adorable! I love it. You’re so thoughtful, Choso," you gushed, "We should name it Phrog—with a PH!"

Definitely soulmates, twin flame, or whatever they called it. The two of you practically share the same brain cell.

As the two of you head to a fancy restaurant, you engage in small but comfortable banter with Choso. It was expected that the initial hour of a first date was always going to be a bit awkward and restrained.

The way he drove with one hand on the stirring wheel, and the other rested on the gear shift was so incredibly hot. You nearly forgot what it was like to be a passenger princess, which was why when he offered to come pick you up, you immediately jumped on it.

What’s so wrong about a girl wanting to be spoiled every so often?

And by spoiled, it wasn’t just material things, it was acts of services. Wanting to be understood without having to spell everything out. Wanting for someone to just offer their help, not because you’re incapable but because they want to.

So far, Choso has made all the right moves in your book. The way he was so calm and collected when you slashed his tires, the way he dealt with Sukuna without putting you on the spot, and the way he initiated asking you out. You were practically going feral over him.

It was true what they say, pick a man that was obsessed with you—and everything else will come after.

But was he really obsessed? You could only pray to the universe that he was.

...

It was a horrible mistake to have come here.

Fine dining was anything but fine, and Choso should have known better. But still, he wanted to impress you and it completely backfired.

How could the two of you get to know each other, if you could hardly even see each other under these dim lights? They mean to tell you that they charge an upwards of four-hundred dollars per meal, and they still need to cut back on the electricity?

And to top it all off, he could barely make a conversation with you, without Karen and Kevin sitting at the next table giving the stink eye like the two of you were uncouth animals.

They say the world of fine dining laid in the experience, but the only experience the both of you had was ‘what the actual fuck was this?’

He definitely does not recommend this restaurant as a first date, and probably not for any dates. Unless, you fall into the category of couples who perpetually hate each other but still need to keep up with appearances. You know, the ones that are always on the verge of divorce, but also, never going to actually divorce. It's oddly specific, he knows, because of...personal experience. Dark enough to not see each other's brooding faces. Quiet enough to avoid the things that need to be said. And enough wine to get through the night.

"What did you think of it?" You asked, as the two of you walked out of the restaurant.

"If I'm being honest, completely awful," he smirked, tossing the crumpled receipt into the nearest trash bin, "What did we have? A leaf and two meatballs?"

You let out a sigh of relief and laughed, "Two might be a bit generous for fine dining."

"It should be illegal, because what do you mean we came to a restaurant for an experience and not for food?" Choso chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"Well, I have a place in mind since we're both...unsatisfied," there was a flirty and mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Choso swallowed the lump in his throat. Are you suggesting what he thinks you're suggesting?

You hook your hand under his arm. Bold. Exactly what he expected, and exactly what he liked.

You are a gentleman. A gentleman. The gentlest of man. Choso repeated in his head like a mantra.

"Mel's Diner is just down the street!" You pointed enthusiastically, "Have you ever been? Their burgers and milkshakes are to die for."

Of course, you were talking about food. What else could you have possibly meant?

"Good call, I'm starved."

"It'll be my treat," you grinned, already dragging him in the direction of the glowing neon sign.

---

Marry me. Choso proposed to you in his head as he watched you bring the tray of milkshakes and burgers.

He wouldn't mind an 80's diner wedding, underneath the fluorescent lights and all. It was perfect. The two of you were already somewhat dressed for the occasion. Heaven is a Place on Earth was playing softly in the background. The cashier could be the officiant, and the three other customers in the diner could be the witnesses.

You slide into the seat beside Choso, completely oblivious to the fantasy 80's diner wedding he was rehearsing in his head.

"Dig in!" Your mouth was practically salivating from the smell.

Your fingers brushed against his as you handed him the burger. His calloused fingertips were the kind that belonged to a man who worked with his hands.

Now, you weren’t so sure anymore if you were salivating because of the burger… or because of this man.

"Do you play the guitar?" you asked absentmindedly, taking another bite of your burger.

"I play the bass," Choso replied. "Sometimes I jam out with Jin and Sukuna."

"Sukuna is… the one who came through the door, right?"

"Mhm. He plays the drums. And Jin—his twin brother—is on guitar. The two look nothing alike, though."

You could only imagine. One big, brooding man who looked like he could absolutely send you to the shadow realm with a single punch was already enough. Two would be catastrophic.

"It could get chaotic sometimes," Choso smiled, "But they're like brothers to me."

"Are you an only child?"

"Oh, no. I have a few siblings, but I don't talk to my family anymore. I was never really close with them."

"Family dynamics can get complicated," you said with a quiet nod. "Are you... happy with how things turned out? Is there anything you would do differently?"

"Happier than ever. I wouldn't change a thing," he smiled thoughtfully.

His honesty and vulnerability only made him all the more attractive. Your heart was practically doing flips.

You stirred your milkshake mindlessly, unable to shake the heat radiating off of him. Your arms were practically touching given the cramped booth, and somehow, that felt more intimate than holding hands.

"So your ex, huh?" he broke the silence, a sly edge to his voice. "Must’ve really been something for you to want to commit your first felony."

"Ugh, don't mention it," you groaned, "I should have known something was off when he didn't even have a driver’s license. That scum cheated on me with my best friend."

"I hope his dick falls off." Choso rolled his eyes.

You laughed, "Trust me. I pray for that everyday."

"His loss though," he shrugged, "Thanks to him, I have a chance."

The both of you blushed as your eyes locked on each other.

“You got a little bit of…” Choso murmured, reaching up to wipe the mayo from the corner of your lips with his thumb.

You looked at him with your mouth slightly agape, while he casually glanced around for a tissue. It was insane how this man had you in a chokehold without even trying. Something took hold of you—some primal need to taste him, to start something you couldn't walk away from. You grabbed his hand and brought his thumb to your mouth, sucking it clean without a second thought.

"I want you to fuck me, Choso."

Was this a dream?

He blinked a few times.

Oh.

---

"My place or yours—"

"I don't care," you hissed, "Start driving. Or we'll do it here."

You suppose his physique wasn't just for show. You could tell how well-built he was even under the greasy coveralls at the garage. And the way he had his black shirt sleeves rolled up this entire evening, to reveal his veiny forearms was definitely a seduction tactic—which obviously worked, and you are not ashamed to admit that.

As the two of you stumble through your apartment door, he swings you over his shoulder.

"C-Cho! Lock the door." You giggled.

The lock of the door clicks, and he impatiently walks over to your room and throws you onto the bed. The way he looked down at you alone was enough to send a shiver down your spine, like a predator with his gaze fixated only on his prey, and nothing else. His eyes alone were enough to tell you how much he wanted you.

Now, the issue was: he didn't have protection. Choso, although lowkey had hopes that tonight would end with a bang, genuinely did not anticipate that you'd actually want to have sex with him. So he didn't bring anything with him.

A gentleman. He was trying to be a gentleman. Though he knew it'd be difficult the moment he saw you.

"Just fuck me raw then," you said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Choso muttered a few swear words under his breath. But who was he to deny you?

Your wish was his command.

A cocky smile tugged at his lips, as he unbuttoned his shirt. Revealing his ripped physique and upper arm tattoos. You could see the way his back muscles flexed in the mirror—which was enough to already make you wet.

You didn’t expect this at all. Then again… it was always the quiet ones.

The way his cock strained against his boxers made it clear just how much he ached for you.

But as he hovered closer, something else hit you: for the first time ever… why did you feel so flustered? Where had all that confidence and boldness from ten seconds ago gone?

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him a little closer.

“I want you to kiss me,” you said, quieter than you expected. A blush crept up your cheeks, hidden under the dim lights.

Without another word, his lips crashed into yours. It was hungry and intense, igniting a warmth within you. His hands eagerly roamed your body, tracing every line and curve, like he’d been dying to touch you all night. Your scent, the softness of your body, it was everything he had been imagining but even better.

He guided you down gently on the bed. The sight of you laid out before him was enough to make him let go of all his restraint, but no, he wanted to savor this moment and take his time with you. His lips wandered, leaving trails of hot kisses along your jawline and neck, while deftly removing the layers of clothing that stood between him and your bare skin.

“Show me how you like it,” he murmured, as he slid down your panties, “I’m good with my hands.”

His words gave you chills.

Maybe you saved an entire country in a past life—whatever it was, you weren’t complaining. You'd hit the jackpot.

You took his hand, placing it right where you wanted it. Guiding his fingers, showing him the pace and pressure that drove you wild. His thumb found your sweet spot, and he gently circled it while his middle finger teased your entrance, making your breath hitch.

"Mm—right there, Choso!" You cried, as your hips bucked up for more. His mouth latched onto your breasts, suckling gently while his free hand continued to explore your body. Every touch, every breath on your skin, was enough to unravel you—and he wasn’t even inside yet.

Pleasure built steadily—warmth tingling through your limbs, wrapping you in heat. True to his words, Choso was indeed good with his hands. His fingers steadily moved in and out, stretching you as he prepped you for what's to come. The sheets twisted in your fists as you writhed beneath him, panting and gasping with each delicious stroke.

"Don't you dare stop," you panted, your body tensing up with the closeness of your climax. "Y-Yes, Choso, right there!"

He applies more pressure to your clit, and quickens the pace of his fingers. "Cum, sweetheart. Let go for me," his voice hoarse with lust and desire.

The tension within you snap. Your back arching off the bed as you cried his name, the release crashing over you like a wave. Your body trembled as you relished the aftershock. Your head spun, like you were on some kind of high.

If there’s one thing you learned from the last twenty minutes, it’s that you could get off on words alone.

When you finally came back to your senses, Choso was hovered over you. A cocky smile plastered on his face.

"That was amazing," he breathed, clearly a little more satisfied with himself.

"Mhm. But now..." you said playfully, your usual boldness returning, "It's your turn to feel good."

You push him flat on the bed and swing your leg over, straddling his hips. His face flushed an even deeper red. You could feel how hard he was beneath you, and the thought of having him inside was driving you insane. Peeling off his boxer, your eyes widen as his cock springs up to reveal a silver piercing.

"You like it?" He raised an eyebrow. Clearly proud of his hidden accessory.

The duality of this man. Who taught him to be so sinfully deceptive?

It was your first time seeing this in person. Your fingers curiously trace from the base of his cock and up to his piercing, touching the piece of metal and the pierced skin.

“Ngh—sweetheart,” he groaned, grabbing your wrist, “if you keep playing with it, I’m gonna cum.”

You hummed and gave him a sly look, grinding your wet core against his cock, coating it with your juices. His tip already beginning to leak with pre-cum.

It felt nice. To feel so desired and understood by someone.

"I want you to cum inside me," you blurted.

Both of you stared at each other, eyes wide. Choso swallowed hard—he swore he was losing his mind. Scratch that. He had already lost it in the car.

He nodded.

His hands found your hips, firm but gentle, as you guided his cock to your entrance—and slowly began to sink down onto him.

"Hah—Choso, you're…" you gasped, struggling to breathe through the stretch.

Choso was pretty sure he had already ascended. Seeing how you were determined to take him, and also focused on his pleasure was the sexiest thing he's ever experienced. Not to mention, he wasn't even fully in yet and he's already about to blow.

"Relax. Take it slow," he cooed, his thumbs gently rubbing circles into your hips. "Just let me know if you want to switch."

You sank down onto him with a moan; the fullness was dizzying, your breath catching as your walls pulsed around him. After adjusting to the fullness, you begin to slowly move, savoring the feeling of how he stretched you deliciously, and the extra sensation of the piercing.

"Fuck, you feel like heaven," Choso sucked his breath in, his grip tightening around your hips.

The bed creaked as you picked up the pace, riding him with enthusiasm. The room was thick and heavy with heady musk, breathy moans, and the skin on skin contact were the only sounds that filled the air.

"T-That's right, sweetheart. Shit—you're perfect. You're doing so good," he was a babbling mess.

"R-Ruin me, Choso! F-Fuck me."

He let out a deep groan, gripping your hips so hard you knew you’d bruise. In one smooth motion, he flipped you onto your back and caged you beneath him. His hands slid beneath your thighs, spreading them apart before hooking one leg over his shoulder, angling you perfectly beneath him. Each thrust sent shockwaves through your entire body.

"Harder, I want it all," you begged. Tears pricked your eyes. Your nails dug into his shoulders.

He gave it to you on command—relentless and deep, eliciting cries of pleasure from you like it was his mission. The friction was incredible, and the piercing only added to the sensation, nudging just the right spots inside, until your whole body tightened, your orgasm approaching fast and brutal.

"Fuck, Choso—!" You shattered beneath him, release washing over you in waves, your vision going white as your body trembled from the intensity.

He followed, stuttering inside you with a low, strangled moan. His hips stilled, buried deep as his warmth filled you. His body trembled against yours, forehead pressing into your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

...

You lay snuggled under Choso's arm, neither of you fully having come down from the high—but everything felt… right. The moment was perfect.

Maybe you were the one with the cosmic plot armor. Because how else do you go from slashing the wrong guy’s tires, to finding someone you genuinely connect with, and then also getting the best dick of your life?

This man was almost too good to be true. Surely, he must’ve been written by a woman.

“Be my girlfriend?” Choso suddenly asked.

You were definitely the one wearing the plot armor.

“Yes,” you smiled, looking up at him—and leaned in for a kiss.

---

"So, how did the date go?" Sukuna asked.

"Better than I expected. I'll be seeing her again," Choso smiled.

He was a liar, it was not just better. It was an enlightenment. He might not devote himself to the monastic lifestyle, but you are without a doubt his newfound religion.

Also, he's not about to let his mentor know how he ended up having the most mind-blowing sex on his first date. He highly doubt Sukuna would want to know about his sex life, it'd feel like a coercion more than anything.

By some stroke of luck, you had also agreed to become his girlfriend. Perhaps he saved a country or something in his past life—not that he really believes in those stuff.

"Well, I'm glad it went well, because I have something for you," Jin said, walking in on the conversation with a shit-eating grin.

He held up a small USB stick and handed it over to Choso.

"What's this?" Choso blinked.

"A copy of How I Met Your Mother: Choso Edition. We even added music," Jin said proudly.

"...You're kidding." Choso stared at it.

"We debated putting it on DVD," Sukuna added, leaning against the doorframe, "but figured you'd want portability."

Choso groaned and shoved the USB into his pocket.

Yeah. Life was good.

Writing © xechu - please do not redistribute, translate, or repost any of my works.

I do not own any of the photos used in this banner

a/n #2: would any of you be interested in a playlist for the Cross My Heart au? Let me know in the comments! I appreciate you all. x

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devilmaymetalgear · 2 days ago

Text

That was a long time ago

swap/evil au!Dante x childhood friend!Reader

Cw: a lot of exposition, dmc3 Dante, gn!reader, this is more of an intro post for the au so I could practice writing him, use of baby and sweetheart, next post WILL be smut with an older evil Dante where he actually is horrible, he's just a little mean in this ❤️

(THIS IS ANOTHER AU I DONT ACTUALLY THINK DANTE WOULD DO ANY OF THIS SHIT IN MAINLINE)

A/n: i have not played dmc5 in a while and forget what the fuck the area around their house looks like, so play along if there's not a forest nearby. I also like... i dont know what happened near the end, its not verg good

He remembered that fateful day. He was left alone, sparring outside. Vergil said he wanted to keep reading his dumb poetry. It was quiet, that familiar of bugs was missing. The chirping of birds gone silent. It was as if time went still.

He didn't notice it at first, that buzzing in the back of his mind that made him want to flee. He probably should of. At 8 years old his mother left him to die. Thrown to the wolves. Thrown to the demons, more accurately.

He watched as the house burned down to ash, the smoke high in the sky. Even as he fled, running for his life, he could see that smoke high in the sky.

And he remembered the days before that. Where he played with his brother and his friend. His secret friend. Mother and father were always worried about them, said they couldn't go too far off the property. But Dante never listened.

He saw another kid in the woods next to his house, plucking some of the wild flowers from the ground. Placing them into their little basket. They looked so excited with each little flower they plucked. And Dante never got to hang out with other kids his age. He crept into the forest, dodging every little leaf and twig that if crunched could scare them.

"Hii!" He shouted, watching them look up.

"Hi?" You waved back at him nervously, and he watched as you stood up straight from the ground.

"Who are those flowers for?" He pointed down at the basket, stepping in front of you.

"They're for my mom. She told me not to come over here but they're just so pretty. Look!" You held your hand up to his face, a small, red wildflower limp between your fingers.

"Can I pick some?" Reaching towards the ground, he grasped at the little flowers, squishing them in his hands. The delicate petals fell onto the ground, leaving partial, crumpled stems in his hands. He was about to give up and sulk, stomp off to go bother Vergil and hope that'll make him feel better.

But you reached out, gently picking up another flower of the ground. Setting into his hand as carefully as you can.

"Now you have one to give to your mom."

Thats all he can remember. His head aches if he thinks about it anymore. That's all he needs to remember anyway.

Why would he ever sit and daydream about the eight year old you, when he's got the smoking hot adult you?

"Dante.." You mutter, gazing down at the rubble and gore beneath temen ni gru. Hundreds dead or injured, the squeals of demons feasting ringing out loud enough for the next city over to hear. His hand tightened around your hip, pulling you close.

"Yeah, baby?" He snaps out of whatever place his mind was, a sharp grin on his face. He looked a little too delighted staring at the gore below him. Like a king on his throne. You wouldn't be surprised if he saw himself as one. "You like what you see, right?"

"It's... definitely something!" His hand drifts lower, resting right on your ass. As much as the urge to swat his hand away rises in you, staring at all the viscera makes you rethink that. "A little... excessive, don't you think? Couldn't we have done this somewhere more... rural? Not right in the middle of the busiest part of town?"

He snickered, leaning into you and glancing over. "I forget how stupid you are when it comes to hellgates and stuff. We can't just move a hell gate, baby. That's where it is so that's where it comes up. Not my fault that I killed a few people."

"You're the one who raised the hellgate! If you didn't raise it then those people wouldn't have died!"

He went quiet, snarling a little. He dipped his head a little lower, his nails digging into your skin.

"If you talk back like that again, I'll throw you down there with them since you pity them so much. You humans are so fragile, any time someone dies you just have to whine about it." He rolled his eyes, as if you were complaining about spilt milk.

He adjusted his grip on you, grabbing your wrist and walking away from the edge.

"Enough of this anyways, I've got a reunion party to plan."

Intro to the au next post WILL be sloppy pervert sex leave me recommendations for what he should do pls ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

#dmc #dmc dante #dante sparda #dante x reader #dante sparda x reader #dmc x reader #devil may cry

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rika-mmendmethings · 7 hours ago

Text

Against Blood & Water l Sylus

Chapter 4

Ch 3 | Chapter 5 next Wednesday

Summary: Seventeen years ago, your life had taken a turn for the worse when your newborn twins were separated from you by a cruel twist of fate. The same fate had led you to the N109 Zone, to your children who were all grown up now. Reconciliation with your boys would've been slightly easier had they somehow not acquired a father figure over the years who wasn't letting them go anytime soon.

Warning(s): Subject to change as we progress further into the story. For this chapter: mentions of guns, stalking and drugs/drug dealings, first meeting with the devil himself

Word count: 2.9k

Playlist coming soon.

Notes: A long chapter as a compensation for lost time ;) Did you notice the parallels between Elysium's menu in the last chapter and this chapter? This story is for the Sylus girlies' who consider Luke and Kieran their babies. A little information on the timeline: in this story, the reader is 35 with Luke and Kieran being 17. Sylus never felt like 28 to me, so he's a hot-ass 39-year-old man (bear with me). The timeline is a bit confusing, I know, but soon it'll be cleared, too. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask me, and I'll try my best to give you a proper answer without revealing too much. Let me know if you wish to be added to the tag list for this series. ♥

Tag list: @babyx91 @pillarofsnow @beyond-the-stars-fairy @yuki-sama6 @sylviewrites @idiashusband @sadmonke @monophobix @lunarvolley @stxrrielle @fries11 @gremlinartstudio @lillycore @novthirty @animegamerfox @cathedralofaudra @nm4565natty @69-gojos-wife-69 @eolivy @namjoons-toenails @silverianni @nezuswritingdesk @beaconsxd @justpassingdontworry @ruyaya @browneyedgirl22 @rafayelridesfisheatsfish @sneakysnakeysstuff @midiplier @colonelcalebs-pipsqueak @dana-nite @lazeriii @into-deepspace @nommingonfood @eden-axe @verysleepylittleguy @lunia-likes-pomegranet @do-clouds-smoke-weed @sowntears @batgirliee @slovesyouuu @blythered @rievendell @larailorelei @owodi @eden-axe @some-gurl-idk @sarah22447 @belles-reads @kanjiharitama @astvriisk

You cursed inwardly at the absence of a peephole as you pressed yourself flat against the door. Gun raised in your dominant hand, you reached for the doorknob with the other, turning it with excruciating care. Then, without further hesitation, you yanked the door open, heedless of the risk — after all, you were armed. That should be enough.

Standing before you was a short, elderly man, adjusting his glasses as he squinted at a crumpled sheet of paper. At the sound of the door opening, he looked up and scratched his head. “Is this apartment number 404?” he asked, entirely unfazed by the weapon in your hand. Perhaps he was just another product of life in the N109 Zone, where paranoia and firearms were part of the décor.

You felt your heart trying to recover from the brink of cardiac arrest — all for this?

“This building only has three floors, mister,” you deadpanned, rubbing your temples in mild irritation.

He chuckled gleefully, apparently amused by his own mistake. “Oh, dear gods! My bad, young lady. Enjoy your evening,” he said with a carefree wave.

You forced a polite smile and shut the door before he’d even turned away. Shaking your head in disbelief, you set your gun down on the table and wandered back into the dimly lit living room. Collapsing onto the couch, you picked up the mechanical bird that had been silently observing you. Its eyes remained vacant, yet the long-range tracker beneath its talon blinked persistently in red.

You tried to scratch the tracker off to no avail. Frustrated, you fetched a fork and prepared to pry it out manually — but were halted mid-movement by the bird’s sudden, piercing cries of distress.

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you set the crow down beside you, your gaze drifting absently into the distance. You could feel the bird’s curious eyes fixed on you, and with a shrug, you turned your attention back to it.

“What?” you muttered. “Your creator probably embedded ten more trackers somewhere inside you. It's not like I’ll be able to find them all before my location gets compromised, so I’ll leave you be, birdie.”

The mechanical crow tilted its head and gave a subtle nod, as though it comprehended your reasoning — and agreed. It then began preening its artificial feathers with a calm efficiency that almost made you forget it was just a machine.

You studied it for a while, unable to suppress a flicker of admiration for the intricate craftsmanship. On impulse, you scooped the crow back into your hands, turning it over to inspect the fine detailing etched into its metallic body, ignoring the irritable caws it let out in protest. It fluttered in a futile attempt to escape, but its damaged wing kept it grounded.

A pang of guilt shot through you.

With a sigh, you stood and retrieved a pair of pliers. Holding them up, you addressed the bird, “I’ll try to fix your bent wing, if you’re willing.”

You were offering it the chance to back away — to refuse the aid of your untrained hands. But your lips curled faintly when the crow hopped forward, climbing onto your lap and settling with its wings spread out in quiet submission.

Carefully, you worked on its mangled wing, using the pliers to straighten the deformed metal feathers — casualties of the bullet that had nearly torn the wing off. When you were done, you gently set it down and gave it space.

With hesitant beats of its wings, the crow lifted into the air, wobbly and a bit unsteady, yes — but it was flying again. You watched with a quiet sense of pride, half-expecting it to head straight for the nearest exit.

Instead, it circled once, then landed beside your hand, staring up at you.

You raised a brow, amusement flickering in your eyes. “What? Not planning to report back to your master?” you teased, stroking a finger gently down its smooth, cold head. “Or maybe you’re sticking around to spy a little longer — just in case I spill something useful?”

The bird offered no response, no artificial chirps or movements. It simply settled beside you, tucking its wings neatly beneath its frame.

You exhaled, raking a hand through your hair as sleep overtook your senses, your body succumbing to the land of dreams.

The next morning, you woke with a well-devised plan already playing out in your mind as you freshened up for the day. It was simple, really: you'd visit a run-down bar named ‘Gemini’ where a man named Herald was waiting. He had promised to provide insider information on the drug lord’s upcoming deal locations — for a modest bribe, of course.

You were just about to head out when a familiar pair of glowing red eyes blinked up at you mid-popsicle bite. With a resigned sigh, you realized you couldn't risk leaving your most valuable lead unattended in the apartment.

You rummaged through the storeroom, still cluttered with leftover construction materials, until you unearthed an old rope. Returning to the living room, you grabbed the mechanical crow in one swift motion, ignoring its caws of protest. You secured the rope around its head and beneath its wings, fashioning a makeshift leash. A quick tug on your end confirmed it was neither too tight nor too loose — just enough to keep it in check.

The bird glared at you with unmistakable indignation, its metal feathers puffed out in defiance as it hopped into your path. You shot it a sharp look and warned coldly, “Get in my way again, and I’ll stomp on you so hard, even your synthetic feathers won’t know which direction to fall in.”

The mechanical crow appeared to understand the threat — albeit reluctantly — and, still a bit pissed, settled by your side as you locked the door behind you.

You made your way down the streets to the bar, the mechanical crow hopping ahead of you. You almost felt as if you were taking your pet crow for a walk — almost. Considering the bird was more of a hostage than a companion, and the aged rope barely qualified as a leash, the comparison felt far from accurate.

You made it to the club with a side-eye or two on the streets and searched for the burly man as soon as you entered. The interior was only sparsely crowded, making it easy to spot your contact. You took a seat across from Herald, carefully concealing your mechanical stalker beneath the table, its leash (rope?) still securely gripped in your left hand.

You handed over the promised payment, listening intently as Herald detailed the timing of the shifts between dealing locations. In a few moments, he passed you a hastily drawn map of the N109 Zone, the dealing routes marked with crude arrows and highlighted dots. You tucked the map into the pocket of your blazer as he left, and then made your way to the terrace of the ten-story building, a half-finished vegetable skewer in one hand and the rope (leash?) of your little stalker in the other.

Standing on the terrace, you gripped the cool metal railing, your fingers curled around it for balance. Your feet were perched on the narrow concrete lip running along the base of the railing, just elevated enough to allow you to lean forward slightly. The height gave you a better vantage of the ground below, though you found your mind wandering to the thought of what it would be like if you fell. You took a big bite of the vegetable around the skewer, concluding that you’d live but the injuries you’d face would be fatal.

As you absentmindedly took another bite from the skewer, your gaze flicked toward the bar below. A customer had just entered, and you couldn't help but notice that the doors weren’t the traditional wooden kind. Instead, two tall, sturdy mirrors stood in place, perfectly aligned, each reflecting the other. The corners of the mirrors were adorned with delicate silver filigree, now chipped but still beautiful.

Twin mirrors facing each other…hm.

You took the final bite of your skewer, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at the edge of your thoughts. You couldn’t place it — but before you could dwell on it further, the mechanical crow began flapping its wings in a frenzy, thrashing and twisting as if desperate to escape the rope looped around its neck.

Startled, you tossed the skewer aside and hastily dusted off your hand, tightening your grip on the rope. But it was too late. With one final violent jerk, the bird slipped free, its tarnished wings catching the dim light as it soared to the adjacent railing and disappeared into the shadows.

Left with no other choice, you drew your gun from the holster beneath your blazer and aimed at the faint glint of crimson in the darkness. You muttered a curse under your breath — damn the N109 Zone and its perpetual gloom, even at eleven in the morning. You couldn’t risk letting that bird escape. You shifted your aim slightly, targeting the wing, intent on mangling the metal just enough to ground it.

You pulled the trigger.

But the recoil caught you off guard. A sharp, startled scream tore from your throat as the force knocked you off balance. Your feet slipped from the narrow ledge, and in one fluid, horrifying motion, your body tipped over the railing. You plummeted, arms flailing, the wind shrieking past your ears as terror clawed its way up your spine. Ten stories down. This was your end.

Then — everything stopped.

A thick, red-black mist coiled around your body, engulfing you. In an instant, it yanked you upward back to the terrace. Before you could make sense of it, you were back — kneeling on the terrace floor, your chest heaving. You wiped the sweat from your brow with a trembling hand, blinking rapidly to clear your vision.

You saw a shadow on the ground moving towards you and you whipped your head up. The first thing you saw was your stalker bird perched obediently on his shoulders making everything inside you still. His voice, when he spoke, was deep and measured, with a touch of amused disdain.

“Someone really ought to revoke your pistol permit, sweetie.”

Right at that moment, you saw a small bullet hole right in the center of his forehead and minimal blood splattered on his face. Your hand flew to your mouth not out of the knowledge of the fact that you had shot him when you were meaning to shoot the bird, but out of the realization that he was alive and walking around as if he owned the place — that the bullet hadn’t killed him, as if death had chosen to skip him entirely.

You rose slowly to your feet, gripping the gun tightly as you sized him up. The mechanical crow perched dutifully on his shoulder was all the confirmation you needed — this was the man who had sent it to track your every move. Your stalker. And yet, paradoxically, this same man had just saved your life. Then again, you wouldn’t have ended up in that kind of situation if his little invention hadn’t startled you in the first place.

You watched with thinly veiled curiosity as he dragged a finger across his forehead, the bullet hole sealing itself as though it had never existed. Calmly, he retrieved a small black handkerchief from the pocket of his blazer and methodically wiped the blood from his face.

“How is this even possible? How are you still standing—just who the hell are you?” you asked, finally finding your voice.

“A friend, sweetie,” he replied smoothly, returning the handkerchief to its place. Were your ears failing you or did you actually hear ‘fiend’ instead of ‘friend’?

You chose not to voice your inner conflict. Instead, you crossed your arms and scoffed. “Friends don’t usually set their creepy little spy inventions to their so-called friends’ backs.”

He hummed in agreement, a low, velvety sound that matched the glint of amusement in his crimson eyes. They regarded you not with malice, but with the kind of knowing mirth that suggested he was three moves ahead — and quite enjoying it.

“I suppose I owe you an apology,” he began, voice smooth as silk. “Though, in my defense, necessity has a way of making choices for us.”

He stepped closer, the click of his boots against the floor deliberate. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he offered a name like it was a game piece laid on the board:

“I’m Sylus. Leader of Onychinus.”

The name landed like a stone in your stomach. You straightened instinctively, mind racing — Onychinus. That was who employed your children.

As if unfazed by your reaction, he produced a coin from his pocket and began flipping it lazily between his fingers, each spin catching the dim light. His tone remained conversational, almost indulgent.

“Onychinus has, regrettably, found itself under the radar of Linkon’s Crime Department. A tedious affair, really. The recent... activity spike within the faction hasn’t helped. Naturally, I’ve been searching for someone competent enough to handle a few inconvenient legal entanglements. Imagine my surprise when I learned that one of Linkon’s finest legal minds was wandering around the N109 Zone.”

He gave a subtle nod to the mechanical crow perched on his shoulder.

“So yes,” he said, lips curling into a smirk, “I sent Mephisto to keep an eye on you. Strictly for your… safety, of course. The N109 isn’t exactly a welcoming place for an outsider like you.” He paused, tilting his head slightly, that smirk deepening. “And, well… turns out that decision paid off quite nicely, didn’t it?”

You swallowed the sarcastic “no thanks” on the tip of your tongue and crossed your arms instead, tapping your foot with restrained annoyance, forced to keep your demeanor since you didn’t have knowledge of the extent of his powers.

“So what now?” you asked, voice edged. “Am I expected to sell my soul just because you showed up at the right time?”

His smile turned cryptic, as if he knew something you didn’t. “Something along those lines.”

You narrowed your eyes, about to respond, when he smoothly cut in.

“All I ask is that you lend me your legal expertise. Temporarily. Help me navigate a few… complexities. I’d say that’s a fair trade for pulling you back from death’s doorstep, wouldn’t you?”

If your department found out you were even considering this offer, they’d have your resignation letter written before you could blink. But then again, it wasn’t like your hands were clean. You’d tampered with major criminal cases before, manipulating outcomes with your probability evol — all while claiming not to be an evolver when you first joined the judiciary.

"What exactly do I stand to gain in return?" You jutted your chin toward him with defiance, finally easing your gun back into the holster beneath your blazer.

"You’re a shark," he commented, the corner of his mouth curling into the faintest hint of a grin.

"You should see me when there's blood in the water," you shot back coolly, your lips pressed into a firm line.

Sylus didn’t hesitate. "Protection in the N109 Zone. Especially when you're forced to wade through the mess that brought you here in the first place. Housing at my estate and most needs taken care of. No one will know you're working for me, and your position in Linkon’s judicial branch will remain untouched. Your expenses will be handled. You'll have regular access to Mephisto, Luke, and Kieran."

He let that last part hang, crimson eyes observing your reaction.

Your breath hitched as you heard him mention the names of your twins. That alone was enough reason for you to work for him. You’d see them again. Every day, even. You could rebuild something real, something fragile that had almost been lost eighteen years ago. Thank goodness that the little semblance of pride in you prevented you from bursting into happy tears right at that very moment.

You cleared your throat, eyes flickering to a distant point as if searching for a reason not to give in.

"Alright," you murmured, gaze steady now. "I'll work with Onychinus—for the time being."

Sylus leaned back in his seat, exuding a quiet satisfaction. "Excellent." He extended a hand, his voice like velvet over steel. "Welcome to Onychinus."

You took his hand in a firm shake. His grip was tightened for a fraction of a second and you could’ve sworn you saw some kind of hostility in his gaze before it was gone.

"Why don’t you gather your belongings from your apartment?" he suggested. "We’ll head to the estate once you’re ready. I’ll drive."

You gave it a moment’s thought, then nodded. He gestured for you to lead the way, ever the gentleman with a predator’s patience.

Once your footsteps had faded and the terrace fell silent, Mephisto, perched nearby, cocked his head and let out a low, inquisitive caw. His gaze remained locked on the door you had passed through, the space where you'd stood, almost as if he were waiting for you to reappear.

After a long pause, Sylus finally spoke, his voice a whisper that still managed to echo with dark resonance. "They say to keep your friends close..." He let the words dangle, his lips curling ever so slightly. "...but it’s your enemies you should keep closer… Close enough to feel the pulse of their fear, yet distant enough that they never see your blade until it’s too late."

He turned to follow you, Mephisto perching back on his shoulder.

Author's exclusive cuts episode 1:-

In Latin, "Gemini" means "twins." Gemini is a bar which was sponsored by Sylus himself, a year after he officially met Luke and Kieran. Most of the ornaments and even the architecture of the place allude to the general theme which is 'twins'. Additionally, the menu of the bar is everything that the twins' like. The bar is "run-down" as a result of the twins antics overtime.

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

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mejaemin · 2 days ago

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like breathing - lee jeno

wc: 0.6k summary: loving jeno is like breathing 🤍 pt. 2 to easy! warnings: SO CUTE SO FLUFFY, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, throw up joke, sm love and sweetness an: happy birthday to my love, my heart, my sweet sweet jeno 🤍 i hope the world is kind to you today, and every day after

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if you thought loving jeno was easy before, now it’s like breathing.

the idea of a first date, or a first “i love you” wasn’t really in the picture. you’d said it so many times before, what was the difference now? your titles? regardless, your love hasn’t changed from when you were only friends. if anything, getting together made your love stronger, even clearer. telling you loved him became easier, like you didn’t even have to think about it.

loving jeno is like breathing, so much so that the first time you laid down with him, it felt natural. there was no insecurity from either sides. you’re so confident in his love for you, and vice versa, that your ability to reveal your most vulnerable self to him wasn’t a worry at all. you love every inch of him, as he does for you, and nothing about his appearance in an intimate moment could deter you from feeling that way.

loving jeno is like breathing, and you know this because you had no doubts or worries in your mind when he offered for you to move into a home together. even in friendship, your spaces were each other’s. now, you don’t have to travel to be with him. there were no flaws, little to no icks and arguments when moving day came. it was easy to fall into a rhythm with him, everyday life with your boyfriend too easy.

loving jeno is like breathing. you guys are so connected, on every level, that all these big decisions were like second nature to have made. even though it’s so early on, it feels so right. that’s why you never hesitate to say yes to him, having no doubt that every decision you make together is the right one.

you’re walking across a bridge, staring down at the koi fish swimming below. jeno’s somewhere next to you, and you’re so excited to point out the white one to him, but when you turn, he’s missing.

“jen?” you turn around to look for him, and you freeze. he’s multiple steps behind you, hands in his pockets, and something in you just knows what’s about to happen.

“come here,” he waves you over, and when you stand in front of him he takes your hands, leaving a gentle, nervous kiss to your lips.

you try to speak, asking him why his hands are nearly vibrating in your own, but he shushes you. “you know how special you are to me, right?” you nod. “so, so special. i couldn’t have asked for a better woman by my side. you’re my everything.”

“jen, what is this? what are you-“

he shushes you once again, a nervous and apologetic chuckle spilling from his lips. “sorry, i don’t mean to keep cutting you off, but if i don’t say this right now, i’m either gonna throw up or pass out. just one more minute?” you nod, and he takes it as a sign to continue.

“i was so shocked when you confessed to me all those months ago, but i think i had it coming. i think i always knew how you felt, and how i felt too. i’ve always known you were it for me.”

he takes a deep, shaky breath, as he drops your hand and reaches into his pocket. thankfully, the ring is actually there, unlike last week when he forgot it. slowly, but surely, he reveals the velvet box to you, getting down on one knee as he says your full name.

“loving you is like breathing, and so, i know i’m sure of myself when i ask you this. will you please marry me?” he asks, all out of breath and teary eyed.

loving jeno is so much like breathing that you don’t think twice when you fall down into his arms, slipping the ring on your finger with a thousand yes’s on your tongue.

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nct 🏷️ @chenlezip @coquettejunnie @prettymoles

#mejaemin #nct #nct dream #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #lee jeno #lee jeno x reader #jeno #jeno x reader #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #lee jeno fluff #jeno fluff #— bday wishes ♡

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readerihardlyknowher · 17 hours ago

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In Every Universe | Pt. 6

Can't believe Amanda's going to be a mom for real now oml

Spencer Agnew x Reader Warnings: None WC: 1,824 Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6

“Hello, welcome to Smosh Mouth. I’m Shayne-” “-and I’m Amanda, and we have a very special guest here today: Y/n Y/l/n!” Both of the hosts look at you, and you wave to the camera, saying hello. “And today we are going to be talking about romance, is that something you know a lot about Y/n?”

“Oh wow, romance,” you chuckle, a little nervous. This is the first time you’ve been able to come onto Smosh Mouth. “Yeah actually, I do. I mean, I’ve had romances before, and I recently rewatched Pride and Prejudice.” Amanda gasps at this.

“The one with Colin Firth?” “No, the one with Matthew Macfayden. From Succession.”

“Right, okay, and was it any good?” Amanda’s perpetually enthusiastic voice makes you smile. Talking with her just feels natural, which is why it’s good she’s one of the hosts.

“Yeah, actually. I mean, it’s one of my favorite movies. I can’t lie, I love a good fairytale ending where everyone’s just happy and in love.”

“Same. I love seeing people happy and in love,” Amanda’s excited voice agrees with you, before looking at Shayne with an expectant look.

“Yeah, I mean I’ve watched my fair share of romance movies, and there’s some good ones out there.”

The rest of the podcast continues on in a much similar manner. Amanda and Shayne ask you questions about shows, games, and even basic questions about your romance life, like your first kiss and whatnot. You share more than you thought you would have, but nothing too intimate or personal. Gotta keep some semblance of privacy on the internet. Eventually, Amanda’s face breaks into a smirk, looking down at her paper before back up at you.

“So, you’ve had many on-camera romances with our favorite Spencer.” You chuckle at this, having known from when she first mentioned romance that it would lead to here.

“Yeah, I have. I mean, I’ve also had a few romances with other cast members in other games, but I think Spencer and I have had the most romances. I mean, besides you and Angela.” You throw it back to her, with a smile, which she laughs at.

“She’s my wife, man!”

“Your work wife,” Shayne throws out.

“Yes, my work wife.

“Anyways, Y/n, we wanted to know straight from you how it feels to be shipped to such a degree. All of us here have been shipped with other cast members many times in the past, but how do you feel about it?” You go silent for a moment to think about it, trying to give a sort of political answer to the question. Honest, but nothing to stir the pot.

“I guess I don’t really mind it. I mean, even if I did mind, it wouldn’t stop anything. Besides, what girl hasn’t been shipped with her boy best friend at some point? But really, it’s no different than how Amanda is with Spencer, so I really don’t get why I’m the one getting shipped. I know you’re married and I’m not, but still,” you finish with a smile, feeling a little hot under the heat of the lights.

“To be clear,” Shayne begins, “we do have it on record that Amanda does in fact have a crush on Spencer.” This comment makes your face heat up more, smiling nervously and shaking your head.

“Oh right, well nevermind that comparison then. What I meant was that we’re just really friendly with one another.”

“Yeah I mean,” Amanda scratches behind her neck. “There’s just something about Spencer that makes everyone love him. It’s so weird.”

Shayne chuckles at that. “Oh yeah, I mean even back in the Defy era everyone loved him.”

You can’t stop smiling throughout the conversation, and you know it must look a little silly to the audience. The truth is just that you love your best friend, everyone does. He’s a very lovable guy, nothing “weird” about it. But what is weird is how your heart flips when you hear what Amanda says next:

“Which is why we’re bringing on the one and only Spencer Agnew to join us here today!”

Immediately you turn your head and watch Spencer as he walks up on set from behind the cameras. You hadn’t even known he was there and silently you wonder if you’ve embarrassed yourself. You have half the mind to move your chair over as he brings one of his own to sit next to you, between you and Shayne.

“Hey, how’s it going guys?” Spencer says to the two hosts before looking over at you, his familiar, all too comfortable grin on his face. “Hello, my wife.”

You huff out a laugh and return the smile. “Hello, my husband.”

“Guys,” Amanda’s voice draws your attention. “Knock it off. There’s too much chemistry already and we haven’t even gotten to the question we’ve all been wanting to know.”

You both pause at that, turning to face her, expectantly waiting for her to continue.

“Where did the marriage joke come from?”

At that you both turn to each other, smiling and silently asking who wants to be the one to tell the story. It only takes a second before Spencer looks down, a little embarrassed.

“I’ll tell. So, back when we were working as editors with Defy, we were good friends. So, one day we’re about to start a shoot, I’m helping to set up, Y/n’s across the room working on something else and she calls my name. Now, I don’t know what was with me that day, but I said ‘Yeah, hun?’ in front of EVERYONE there.”

“And that’s what got us our first trip to HR.”

Amanda “aw”’s at the story. Shayne merely chuckles and shakes his head. Amanda’s brows crease as a question enters her mind.

“Wait, but why did you call Y/n that?”

Spencer can only shrug as a response before laughing. You catch him glancing over at you and can see a light dusting of red on his cheeks.

“I don’t even know, man. If I’m remembering correctly, it’s because that’s what I was calling the girl I was with at the time and was super tired coming into work, so I just slipped up.”

“And that’s called a freudian slip,” Amanda says, nodding. This causes Spencer to laugh and put his head in his hand, saying her name under his breath in exasperation. You step in to continue the story.

“So yeah, then after that, people on set thought we were together. Once they realized we weren’t they just turned it into a running joke that we’re the married couple on set. But I guess that title now has to be handed off to you and Courtney now,” you say, directing the energy back to Shayne who nods.

He ends up telling a story of his own about how the people at Smosh were told/found out about them dating, and how they wondered at first whether or not to ever tell the audience, but ended up settling on telling them once they got married. It’s a nice change of pace at this point in the podcast, getting to listen to a sweet story. Eventually, the conversation falls back into the topic of romance movies, in which they end up asking Spencer what his favorite is.

“Excluding Attack of the Clones? I’d have to say Princess Bride right now. Y/n and I rewatched it about a month ago and it still holds up.”

Amanda “ooh”’s at that choice, agreeing that it’s such a good movie. Shayne takes this time to turn towards the camera and speak.

“So, just for you guys at home, Spencer and Y/n like to watch movies and shows together in their free time.”

“Hey, we’ve invited you two to join us sometimes and you always blow us off!” You say playfully. It’s true though, when watching a movie you knew one or the both of them loved, you would ask if they wanted to join, but most of the time they end up being too busy.

“I come whenever I can. Mostly though, after a long day I like to hit the gym and relax with Courtney,” Shayne responds, a slightly offended tone with his first statement, before going back to the casual style he speaks with. Amanda nods and looks as though she’s about to speak before you feel Spencer’s warm hand through the sleeve of your shirt, resting just on your upper arm.

“Yeah, gives me more time to relax with my wife as well,” his smooth voice replies to Shayne. You turn and shoot him a confused smile before smacking his hand.

“Get your Mountain Dew fingers off of me,” you huff out as he pulls his hand away with a smile.

“See what I have to put up with? Women, amiright?” Amanda immediately boos Spencer’s comment, Shayne putting his head in his hands.

Pretty quickly, the topic turns back to movies and TV shows, Amanda talking about her love of Turkish dramas, and you talking about your favorite movies. Shayne turns to you once you’re done talking.

“So, Y/n, aren’t you and Spencer having your movie night tonight?” You nod and hum as a response to his question. “Do you know what movie you’re going to watch?”

The two of you turn and look at each other, silently wondering if you should share it, before you take in a breath and turn back to Shayne, a giggle in your voice as you speak.

“We’re actually watching The Notebook.”

“My choice,” Spencer adds. Amanda gasps and holds her hands to her chest, while Shayne hums and nods.

“Oh my gosh, such a good movie.”

“Well, I think that we’re nearing the end of our episode here,” Shayne’s voice calls to attention. You had hardly noticed how quickly time had passed since you first sat down, Amanda and Shayne’s energy, as well as Spencer’s presence being so welcoming. You almost wished this episode would never end, however, it does comfort you to know that you and Spencer will be seeing each other later tonight.

“Thank you for having us, I hope to get invited back soon. You guys were amazing as always,” you say, being nice for the end of the video. Amanda looks at you with an excited look on her face.

“Yes, and you have to tell us more about your movie nights,” Amanda teases you, which makes you a little flustered but you brush it off. You’re about to speak before Spencer talks first.

“No way, if you want to know about our movie nights, you’ve got to come when we invite you. What happens at movie night stays at movie night.”

Amanda opens her mouth to protest, and you realize this is just going to prolong the end of the video, so you turn to the camera, a playfully panicked look on your face.

“Quick, cut the video now! They’re not going to stop otherwise!”

Tag list: @lisiliely, aliceblxck, burrowedinnature77, 65percentleg

#smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader

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towriteloveontheirarms · 23 hours ago

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After Nightfall (dark!modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

synopsis: Her low, raspy voice is light-hearted and though you know she is joking, you can´t shake the feeling of the hair at the nape of your neck standing up and the skin on your arms prickling.

“I´m fine.” You mutter rather dismissively. Taking a large gulp of the pretty, pink drink in front of you. (side Aegon II Targaryen x Reader)

warnings: non-con, confessions, angst, smut, semi public sex, mutual masturbation, oral (f receiving), p in v, afab reader

word count: 4k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1 @legitalicat

(If you want to be tagged for any specific character/series/fandom or in general on my fanfic or moodboards let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: This one is a little darker so if you don´t feel in the right mindspace to read this right now there is no shame in klicking away and maybe come back another time. I love you all!

Dividers by @djarrex

“Okay, I´m gonna say something right now, yeah? But you can´t judge me for it. No matter how controversial it.” You say, barely holding back the nervous giggles as you look at Helaena with a look that made her promise.

“We listen and we don´t judge.” She holds up her palms defensively.

It makes you feel safe enough to burst out the confession. “I´m so desperate I might have gotten turned on by how Aegon looked at me earlier.”

The words almost jumble together by how fast they get pushed out of your lungs. Followed by a squeak and your hands coming up to hide your burning face at the sight of the immediate shock written onto your friend’s face.

“No! You can´t mean that. Seriously? Aegon?” She asks over a disbelieving laugh and bulging eyes. Her mouth gaping ever so slightly at the revelation.

“Yes, Aegon! And you said you wouldn´t judge…” You whine, barely able to hold back a chuckle of your own as you lower your hands to look at your friend again.

“I´m not judging. I´m just… asking.” The blonde woman across the kitchen table defends herself. “Because you know he has been flirting you since we were old enough to know what that is, right?”

Your response is a heavy sigh. “I know, I know. But I dare you to have a dry spell this long, filled with only bad dates and not start getting thoughts when someone undresses you with their eyes so openly any chance they get.”

“Please, you gotta have some standard left. What happened to ‘I wouldn´t even touch him with a ten-foot pole’?” Helaena pauses and looks to the side. “Oh, hi Aemond.”

You follow her gaze and see that her younger brother had just entered the room. Waving back at him as he nods to the two of you in greeting whispering a soft hey.

According to Helaena he had always been shy towards strangers and had stayed so even in your grown age now. But you were by far no stranger anymore. Helaena and you had been friends since first grade, and you had accompanied the family on multiple visits to their summer home. In all fairness you thought it was kinda cute how nervous he seemed to be around you. The way he stuttered and blushed gave a bit of life to his otherwise cold and rebelliously emo looks. And a crush never hurt anyone. Most times at least. There was a reason why anyone barely ever talked about the cases when it did. Aemond leaves the two of you alone and you continue the previous discussion. This time around you can´t shake the feeling of a gaze burning into your back though. Any time you turn around to the entrance though, there is no one to be seen.

“Are you okay?” Helaena asks with a huffed chuckle, tilting her head to the side. “Scared Aegon heard you and makes your wishes come true?”

Her low, raspy voice is light-hearted and though you know she is joking, you can´t shake the feeling of the hair at the nape of your neck standing up and the skin on your arms prickling.

“I´m fine.” You mutter rather dismissively. Taking a large gulp of the pretty, pink drink in front of you.

Together the two of you head outside to the pool side where you lay down on the sun chairs. Your body, clad in a skimpy one-piece bathing suit, barely hidden underneath a cover up is covered in goosebumps. Despite the comfortable warmth left by the sun. After a while of trying to relax, one last shiver runs down your spine and the previous uncomfortableness is gone. Like someone has pushed a switch. Thoughts of why you are so hung up on something like this persist though. Running around your brain in circles. Thinking about it deeper you realize that this wasn´t the first time you had felt like that in the house or on the premises. You had always chalked it up to the house being massive and old and someone has once been spying on someone else around here somewhere hundreds of years ago. Like in the Middle Ages or something. But now it did feel so much like that anymore.

A week later you find yourself in much a similar spot. This time a few hundred miles further south. The whole Hightower-Targaryen family had left for their summer home once more and as Helaena´s friend of course the invitation was extended to you as well. The reach was nice, and Helaena and you have always spent nothing short of memorable vacations there. However, this time around it´s too hot to do anything. Anything but try to keep body temperatures as low as possible by dangling your feet in the pool and enjoying ice cold drinks while gossiping with your best friend. And you weren´t about to complain about that. Not if it came served with this gorgeous environment that you couldn´t afford in a thousand lifetimes.

The two of you spend barely any time away from the pool unless it is to sleep. So, it is no wonder that it goes entirely unnoticed that by halfway through the vacation most of your underwear has gone missing. Disappearing right from the guest room into thin air while you were sprawled out and exchanging glances over a cigarette or your sunglasses with Aegon. Meanwhile, Aemond's absence goes unnoticed. Disregarded as something normal. The perfect excuse to spy on you. One hand down his pants, rubbing furiously at the straining length. A used pair of your panties wrapped snugly around it. His one good eye roaming over your strategically placed inviting figure splayed out on the sun lounge. The free hand props him up against the wall beside the window. With frantic motions he spills himself into the lace fabric, a subdued whimper filling the empty room, just as you rise to your feet. Shedding the cover up and throwing it to the side to dive into the pool. With ragged breaths Aemond buries the soiled fabric at the bottom of the laundry basket and moves away from the window. Before anyone can look up and see him. He almost felt bad at his actions. Almost. The tingling of pleasure left behind in his limbs from his previous actions did well to mask any other feeling. He doesn't realise how lucky he is to not get caught for so long.

“What the fuck?” You whisper under your breath on the last day of the vacation.

You had just walked into your room in the middle of the day to get your sunglasses which you had forgotten to grab before heading out with Helaena. Only to find one of your panties, which by now you had noticed gone missing, laid down perfectly on the large bed. The lacy fabric standing out against the beige of the bedsheets and standing out from the colour of the lace underwear, white stains. Well not quite dried into stains yet but rubbing the fluid between your thumb and forefinger leaves no doubt as to what was currently soaking into the fabric. For a moment you stand there as your mind races with thoughts of who could have done this. You hadn't seen anyone but Helaena and, very briefly that morning, her mother Alicent so anyone could come into question. And for your own mental health your brain settles on Aegon. Taking it as a hint, a consequence of flirting for the entire vacation with it not going anywhere yet. It's the least unsettling possibility to think about and being honest with yourself, the drop that made the cup overflow, in a way. Nevertheless, you tuck the panties into a safe place and head out again. Wanting to make use of the fact that the day was finally cool enough to go out and enjoy some time somewhere other than on the brink of heat stroke no matter the precautions.

Helaena and you are out all day. Being greeted by her brothers when you come back in the evening. Revealing the house was all yours for the last night as their mother and grandfather had to go back just a little earlier for business in the morning. The glint in Aegon's eyes tells you exactly what that means even before he pulls the neatly rolled joints out of his pocket. Smoking with him wasn't anything strictly restrained to the times when Alicent and Otto were out of the house, but with them gone it could be done a lot more openly and without having to worry about the smell. Outside, on the wide-ranging lawn, laid back on a large blanket. It was one of the rare occasions that the four of you all came together. And even rarer was that it happened in peace. There was no sibling fighting, which especially with Aegon and Aemond was so rare you thought about celebrating every time it did.

After dinner the four of you would head out into the garden. Everyone carrying some snacks or drinks, ready to enjoy a peaceful last night. Passing around the joints, revelling in the smoke filling your lungs and laying a veil over your brains as you slip into separate conversation. Beside you Helaena and Aemond start a deep talk that you only listen in on every nnow and again. Meanwhile Aemond watches you and Aegon laugh over the most stupid shit. Muttering jokes under your breaths to each other, leaning forward to be closer to each other. He grinds his teeth as you playfully shove his older brother by the arm and play with your hair. Aemond was sure that even with the weed numbing your senses Aegon couldn't ever possibly be that funny. The blood boils through his veins at the sight and yet he can't take his eyes off you.

Even if the others notice it, you don’t, and they don't say anything. There is nothing to a harmless flirtation after all. Soon enough Helaena bows out and seeing as you just pluck the joint from between Aegon's lips, Aemond stands up as well with so much as a growl and balled fists, though unlike his sister he doesn't head inside directly. Instead, he hides somewhere halfway to the house. Unable to take his eye off you.

With the others gone the tension between you and Aegon grows heavier yet, coming to a peak since you have started flirting weeks ago. And at the same time both of you are suddenly flooded with uncertainty on how to continue, but your hands twitch. Eager to make contact with the other's body. Slowly you inch closer to where you are sitting across from him until your feet stand on each side of his legs. When he doesn't move away, your hand inches closer until the pads of your fingers feel the surprisingly soft skin of Aegon's inner thigh right underneath the hem of his linen shorts. Instantly his leg twitches, leaning into it further just a second later. Aegon's legs spread a little more to allow his upper body to lean closer to you. Barely audible whimpers escape him at your ministrations and the way his hard length rubs against the inside of his shorts. Taking one last puff of the joint between your fingers, you carefully put it aside. Pressing the now free hand against his lips to keep him as quiet as possible.

“Ssshhh, wouldn't want anyone to catch us. Would we?” You whisper. Unable to hold back a giggle at the eagerness behind Aegon’s responding nod.

Your hand wanders to the apex between his thighs. Cupping the clothed, hardened length to provide just the smallest amount of stimulation. Aegon´s hips buck off the ground in response to it, searching for more of it. Then you feel his tongue against your fingers. Licking first but quickly wrapping around two digits. Sucking them into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth. This time it is your lips that leave out an affected whimper. The hand between his legs trembling as it opens the button and pulls down the zipper to take out his cock. Under Aemond´s hidden but ever watchful gaze, you lick your palm before wrapping around Aegon´s length, pumping it up and down at a teasingly slow pace. The same time as Aemond´s hand finds its way into his own pants. Imagining himself in Aegon´s stead at that moment as he grips onto the wall beside him and biting his lower lip to ground himself so he wouldn´t be heard whimpering as he mimics your hands speed. Thinking how soft your hands would be, how they would look wrapped around his arousal.

A pleased sigh brings him back to reality. A reality in which Aegon had just buried two fingers in your heat. Your head falls forward being half obscured by shadows, still even from afar it is visible how your jaw hangs open loosely around the sound that has just escaped. With a wet pop, you pull your fingers away from Aegon's mouth. Holding onto his shoulder to keep yourself upright instead.

“Please, faster.” Aegon whimpers just loud enough for you to hear.

The words broken up. One soft spoken and one whispered desperately. His fingers curling inside your velvety channel, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your clit as added encouragement. Electric shocks zap through your legs, thighs snapping shut to keep his hand in place, making it hard not to give in to his plea. Almost instantly your hand begins pumping faster up and down his girth. And so does Aemond. Listening to the quiet, but lewd sounds from your mouth. Letting them spur him on, drive him closer to the edge of his pleasure. Shutting his eye tightly, Aemond bites his lip to keep silent as ropes of cum shoot from his cock. Imagining painting your face instead of the concrete underneath his feet. Only a few moments before Aegon and then you reach your peaks as well. So, while you two are still distracted by catching your breaths and fixing your clothes, Aemond slips into the house.

You make your way inside shortly after. Alone, to not raise suspicion. Face still warm and body tingling with satisfaction, when you quite literally walk into him in the hallway to the guest rooms.

“Oh, sorry.” You apologize in an instant, stumbling back a few steps.

Feeling a cold wall press against the warm skin of your back, you subconsciously run a hand through your hair. Your lashes flutter and your slightly parted lips release a breath as you look up at him. He catches your scent, weed and sweat but still that warm scent that is uniquely you and it's like a flip is switched in Aemond's brain. His eye visibly darkens when it roams over your form and suddenly the air in the hallway feels cold. He had always been taller than you, but in this moment, standing with a straight back Aemond towers over you even more. A small gasp escapes your lips as one of his hands connects to the wall right beside your face.

“A-Aemond what…?” Your eyes search his.

The only answer you get at first is a deep growl. “It sounds so good when you say my name.”

“What are you doing?” You demand to know though the demand is undermined by the whispering tone of your voice.

The change in his behaviour pulls the rug from underneath your feet and it feels like you are struggling not to fall into a gorge. Feet half over the edge, arms flailing and body struggling to keep from falling forward. Only to be given the last missing push by his following words.

“You are so pretty.” Aemond mutters lowly against your lips. “Aegon couldn´t ever worship you like you deserve.”

You gasp. At the closeness and at the possibility of him having seen what you did in the garden. Or if it was simply a reaction to having seen you two talk. The thought of having been not only caught but also watched in the act sends a cold shower down your spine. Shuddering as Aemond moves ever so slightly closer until there is barely any room for air left between the two of you.

“Not like I could.” He lets out a raspy growl. “Gods, I´m crazy for you.”

A flip switches in your own brain that moment, your eyes widening as you think back to the disappearing underwear and the ´gift’ you had found on your bed earlier. The likelihood of Aegon being the culprit being eradicated at a rapid pace.

“What are you saying?” You ask again.

This time with a less shaky voice. You just have to make sure, even though your mind still refuses to fully accept.

“You already know, darling. I know you found my little present for you. Seeing you walk around in these skimpy bathing suits every day for two weeks… It´s no wonder I can´t control myself.” Aemond cups your cheek in one hand when he answers.

There is a small smile turning the corners of his mouth upwards. It makes you break out in a cold sweat. Had he been the reason why you had felt watched at any given moment too? A stupid question with an obvious answer, but your mind races. Helplessly questioning everything that ever happened, every word exchanged. Somehow trying to find the fault in your own actions when there was none.

“Why?” You are sure you don´t want an answer to that question, but it is out before you can hold it back.

“Because you were stuck seeing me as nothing but the little boy I was when you and Helaena became friends. So busy looking for love anywhere but right in front of you…” He rasps, stealing a quick peck from your lips.

Your eyes widen even further, body frozen in place from the act that is so saccharine and so in contrast to the whole situation that you can´t help but feel the need to run. Damned to be stuck in the moment.

“I could give you everything you want. Everything you need.” Another peck is stolen from your lips.

Then one is placed against your cheek, and another to your jawline, your teeth instantly clenching. And then more follow down the side of your neck.

With no fight put up against from your side, as you are unable still stuck in your position pressed against the wall, his hand has free reign to leave your cheek and gently push up the flimsy shirt you are wearing. His touch is feather light and reverent. Tracing the soft skin around your areolas and then closing in around your nipples. “Aemond…” You whimper, trying to lean away from him but being stopped by the wall still in your back. “I´ve loved you for so long. Let me show you.” He takes you into the nearest room and lays you onto the bed. Your body listening to him more than your own brain. It´s easy giving into him. To just let him do what he wants and in the morning you would all leave anyway. It's almost warm. His touch. His palms roaming up and down your sides in soothing circles. Mirroring the sentiment of his previous words. On the inside though nothing can pierce the cold dread at what is to come first. Then there is a strange calm settling inside you. There is no stopping him and getting away with it. Not realistically.

Aemond quickly discards of your shirt before gently laying you back down again. His tongue traces down over the pulse point at the side of your neck in an instant. Alternating it with wet, open-mouthed kisses once he reaches your collar bones. A shiver runs through you as he nibbles on your breasts and suckles on the nubs atop until the are standing hard at attention. Only then he steadily goes lower, from the valley between your mounds over the soft expanse of your stomach, down to the waistband of the maxi skirt that covered your legs. His hands follow down your sides at the same pace as his hands. Pulling down all the fabric that separates your skin from his direct touch, without ever taking his lips away.

Your thighs, which are pressed together tightly, but at the gentlest tap of his fingers against them, they open. Mentally bracing yourself for the intrusion of his fingers that follows shortly after. Tracing two slender digits along the slit, gently pushing them inside the warmth of your core. The velvety walls clamp down on his fingers until you will them to relax. Aemond´s breath shudders, fanning over the growing wetness as he watches his fingers disappear into the channel with rapt attention. His thumb laying on your clit to rub gentle circles into it.

It feels wrong. The wetness that begins to collect between your thighs and coats his fingers. It shouldn´t be there. You shouldn´t be there. And yet it still is, you still are and as if with a mind of its own, your body writhes against the soft sheets. The whimpers that fall from your lungs feel foreign, drawing the attention of his gaze upwards. In return your eyes screw shut tight. There is no need to look at him to know of the desire etched onto his sharp facial features and shimmering in his eye. You try instead to think yourself out of this room. Imagine you are anywhere but in this room, at this moment. Only to be brought back by the sound of his belt buckle.

Aemond doesn't even take the time to undress. Barely pulls out his still hard cock and runs it against your slit before aligning it with your entrance. The tip breaches your channel, when one of his hands props him up beside your head and the other finds your cheek.

“Look at me. Please.” He urges you, waiting until your eyelids flutter open to continue talking. “I love you. I mean it. I love you so much.” Stealing a kiss from your lips once more, Aemond pushes his length inside of you until he bottoms out. Visibly revelling in the whimper that forcefully pushes past your lips. There is a moment of pause, in which he lets you get used to the feeling of his cock inside of you, that is filled only with the sound of both of your breathing and the rustling of the sheets beneath you. The rest of the house is deadly quiet.

When he begins to move, your body is shaken by every languid, smooth roll of his hips. The cold silver chain with the small seven-pointed star pendant dangling just over your face.

“You feel so good.” Your nails dig into the mattress when you hear the whispered words.

Damp palms pressed against silk sheets, forcing your eyes to keep looking at him like he wants no matter how much your head aches to turn away from him. It´s like a mantra echoing in your mind repeatedly. It´s gonna be over tomorrow, just make it until tomorrow. But seconds turn into eternities underneath his muscular frame, held in place with only one of his hands laid gently against your cheek. The thought alone is sickening. And the coil that winds in your stomach makes you feel even sicker at yourself and the world. Nevertheless, it coils tighter. And tighter and tighter. Much to Aemond´s delight. Whose erection twitches eagerly once he pulls out. The hand beside your head gets taken away, back to your clit to resume rubbing circles into the swollen flesh. Only a few to force you over the edge, all while he grinds his soaked cock against your slit.

With a needy whimper from above, his release painting your lower stomach in white splatters.

For a moment there is only huffed breathing as he remains hunched over you for a bit longer. Then Aemond rolls of you. Pulling you with him to lay on your side, hugged securely against him. Your eyes burn when you finally get the chance to hide your face from him. Your breathing staying at its laboured pace long past his, but not a single tear crosses your lower lash line. And in another miracle, you can even force yourself to fall asleep beside him. His confessed feelings and all he had done ringing in your ear the entire time.

#aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fic #hotd x reader #hotd x you #modern aemond #hotd modern au #modern house of the dragon au

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dark-lord-of-awesomeness · 21 hours ago

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It’s probably my love of horror and messed up sibling relationships, but I have to wonder how Dark! Ford would approach Shapeshifter! Stan.

I mean, seeing as Stan can escape pretty much most physical cages through shape shifting, I imagine Ford would have to rely on magic, or even the whole emotional mess of being Stan’s most important person.

Which is an interesting dynamic to me lol.

My first thought on Dark Ford Shapeshifter Stan is looney toon ass shenanigans. Think road runner and Wile E. Coyote, where Stan's road running his way through the apocalypse and Ford's desperately trying to catch him both from 'my precious little brother Stan i need to protect' and also 'wtf Stan was a real life shapeshifter and i thought it was a joke? I need to live out all our childhood hypotheticals stat'

Second, more serious thought, is that it would be huge mess on both sides. Stan's moping in his room eating valentines day chocolate when the world ends, and a wave of weirdness rolls through the world. A demon's in charge of the dimension now non stop partying through the planet, and one of his henchmaniacs is looking for Stanley Pines with a picture of Ford on a bunch of billboards saying 'looks like this' with a reward and everything. The reward is 'you get to live' and people are all for it.

Except Stan doesn't look like that, and never will. He has no idea why this random demon is looking for his base form, all he knows is he has to get to jersey stat and save his family. Except when he gets there his family is gone (Ford got there first). So now he's just, cutting loose in the apocalypse. Doesn't need to blend in anymore and now dozens of shapeshifters are seeking him out to learn how to shift like he does. Super depressed at the lose of his base and human family but at least shapeshifters want to hang out with him now?

I imagine it'd be a few weeks before Ford finally got frustrated about his lack of progress on finding his 'human' brother and went to Bill for help, then used his abilities to learn that Stan was a shapeshifter, was always a shapeshifter, and exactly where he was (no need to hide after all, he's not Stanley Pines anymore, and shapeshifters are becoming more dangerous now that they don't have to fit into human society). He'd go from rage (Stan was a shapeshifter this whole time!) to embarrassment (Stan told me he was a shapeshifter and i thought he was joking) to an even stronger need to have him (Stan's a shapeshifter and thought i was super important because i am. I'm important to him, just like he's important to me, and we should always be together. The fact that he has this power means i dont have to worry about him as much). In a way he's almost more possessive of this Stan then normal Dark Ford, because he knows exactly how Stan viewed him (I'm his most important person, and he's mine. mine. MINE!)

It.. wouldnt end great. Stan's thrilled to see Ford healthy and alive, eager to come with him and expressing how sorry he is. But the moment he admits he can't mimic Ford as an adult Ford gets.. weird. Stan's his brother. They should look alike. Why can't Stan just be him and fix it? He's a shapeshifter isnt he, just shift! Doesnt understand Stan's reasoning that while he can look like adult Stan Pines, he doesnt feel like adult Stan Pines. It feels fake, forced, like he's acting and not really himself. Since Ford trusts Stan to take care of himself more than human Stan, he 100% uses emotional manipulation to keep Stan with him to try and 'fix' him, but also gets weird mad scientist and pushes Stan to shift more and more. They're brothers. Twin brothers. They should look the part, and Ford wont leave Stan behind ever again, and doesnt Stan want to stay and 'fix' what they were? Maybe all Stan has to do is never leave Ford's side ever again and eventually he'll feel like himself :)

So Stan's getting hit with a lot of red flags on Ford's possessive behavior, but he was also conditioned to think of Ford as someone important and to stick with him to learn. Logically he knows Ford's just a important person and not 'the most important person on the planet', but throughout their childhood they only had each other, and he leaned on Ford harder than most shifters would. So even though Ford's behavior screams 'get far, far away' he can't help but stick around and try to be the adult Stan Pines that Ford wants. Just telling himself over and over to stick with it until it feels real, and ignore the parts that tell him he's falling into a trap. that a bad guys got him, and is going to take him away. Becoming more of Ford's personal shifter, and not his brother.

Shifty would not be helping in this situation, as here he'd be an awful combination of Ford's son and pet. Ford loves Shifty very much, so wont he do everything Ford asks? Just like Uncle Stanley does :)

#gravity falls #gravity falls au #stan pines #ford pines #shapeshifter stan #shapeshifters #dark lord shapeshifter au

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askponyboymcurtis · 21 hours ago

Note

pony it's just a picture !!! honest i thought you'd like it ! ☹️

look, I'll give it back to soda or something, i swear no one peeked at it exceptformaybetwobitandsomegirlsatthedxandmaybetheylaughedabitbut i PROMISE ... IT DIDN'T GO NOWHERE !!

nowhere except for my pocket obviously — and i gave it right back to u so uh !!! yeah !!!

i'm awful sorry if i embarrassed you, silly guy !!! hehehe

Pony stares at the note. His jaw is on the floor. On the bed, tucked under the blanket to avoid any more prying eyes, was the oh so hated picture.

"Girls saw it? Like, real life girls? Real girls? Who could probably go to my school?"

"And Two-bit?"

He groans, pulling his cheeks down in an, admittedly dramatic, motion of defeat. "I ain't never gonna hear the end of this. He's gonna be brutal." There's a moment where he sits and just stares at the floor before he shakes his head, pushing himself off of his bed.

Grabbing his jacket from his desk chair, he digs through the pockets for his cigarettes. He pulls out the box and opens it up, only to find a distinct lack of cancer sticks.

"Just my dang luck."

He throws his jacket over his shoulders and shoves his converse onto his feet before making his way out of the house. Both of his brothers were working (Darry, as always. It was like he was seeing him less and less as time went on) which meant Pony was free to leave the house as he pleased.

Walking through the streets of the East side, Pony's hands were shoved in the pockets of his pants. His head was kept down, his feet scuffing against the concrete. There was a part of him that was trying to keep himself small. The amount of greasers getting jumped was going up by the day, and Pony didn't want to be the next name added to the list.

After a long while of walking, he stopped in front of a familiar house. He doesn't bother knocking, letting himself into the Shepard House and calling out: "Curly? You here?"

He waits. After a moment or so passes, he tries again. "Tim?"

And that warrants a response. "Who's there?" He hears Tim yell from another room, assumedly his bedroom.

" 'S Pony."

"What's good, Pony?"

"Curly here?"

"Think he's in his room."

"He awake?"

"The hell would I know?"

"Good point. Thanks, Tim," Pony waits for a response. Which does not come. After a second, he makes his way into Curly's room. Opening the door, his nose is immediately attacked with the smell of herbal smoke. He coughs as he breathes it in, waving the smoke out of his face.

"Pone! What're you doin' here, ain't 'ya supposed to be at school, or somethin'?"

"It's five pm, Curly, school ended awhile ago."

"Tuff." He takes a long drag of the blunt in his hand.

"Yep. Tuff." He nods in agreement, taking the spot next to Curly on his bed.

Curly's room was messy. Shirts and socks on the floor, a guitar shoved into the corner, sheets of paper strewn about. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not for Curly. The only difference from normal was the grey smog collecting near the ceiling.

"Jesus, Curly, you're hotboxing yourself in here," He begins, only to be met by the boy blowing smoke into his face. Pony can't help but snicker in response. "Ay, ay! Quit it!"

He's greeted with a sly grin when he opens his eyes. Curly blows the rest of the smoke off to the side. "What got you comin' 'round here, today, Pone?"

"Ran outta cigarettes. Was hopin' you'd have some."

"Cigarettes?" There's a brief pause from Curly. "Nah. Don't got any, gave my last one to Tim a while 'go."

"Dang." He scratches his wrist uncomfortably, sputtering his lips. "You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Don't got a stash anywhere?"

"I don't got a stash no where."

"Could you ch--"

"I don't got no cigarettes, Pone." He says firmly, Pony's eyes darting away from Curly's with a small "sorry." His eyes stay firmly on Pony, before decidedly holding the blunt out to his friend.

He looks at it. "Nah. I don't like weed."

"It's better than not smokin', ain't it?"

He pauses. "Guess so."

"You can just chill out here 'til the high wears off. Your brothers don't gotta know."

"True, that." His hand darts out. He takes the blunt into his hand, taking a long puff and blowing it out.

For the next however long, they pass the blunt back and forth.

The letter is found back in the mailbox that night, the note on the back having written:

"ples dont shoow anyonre alese i will cry annd neevr beseen ever again thankm you"

-- pj 65

#hi aracde i took this as an opportunit to yap my bad #curly is a stoner btw #ive mentioned it in past posts but you know damn well he is a stoner #pony is NOT used to being high #dpne it once before and hated it #but he lowk addicted to cigarettes #curly shepard #ponyboy curtis #ask ponyboy curtis #ask blog #tim shepard

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ghosty-zero · 19 hours ago

Text

Sonadow one shot number #21: Drama

"Shadow, we're breaking up."

Shadow looked up from his book, raising a brow at the blue hedgehog in front of him. "I beg your pardon?"

"The time has come. I regret to say this, my dark, handsome, lovable friend, but we can no longer be together. I must make a fresh start in my life without you. I am leaving for good. We can no longer see each other. Ever again. Sorry. Bye. I love you. You'll always be my second favourite hedgehog. And I hope you find someone new." Sonic said, dramatically resting his arm over his forehead. "Oh, don't mourn me, my dearest. The pain will lessen with time. Move on with your life. You deserve it. I was never good enough for you anyway. We all know I am the fastest thing alive and that you can barely run five feet without tripping over a rock. Goodbye. Forever. See ya. Love you. Don't look back as I walk away."

"What are you doing?" Shadow asked, confused. He tried to get up from the couch but was instantly pushed back by the blue hedgehog.

"Shh, I know this must break your wittle heart, but it is for the best. Please don't cry. You'll always be my favorite psycho hedgehog. And I hope you find someone else. I love you. Goodbye. We can never see each other again. I'm sorry. Please don't call me anymore. Please don't text me. Please don't send me letters. Please don't write me poetry."

"I've never written you poetry." Shadow said with a blank stare, but the blue hedgehog didn't seem to notice.

Sonic put a hand to his mouth and made a fake sob, wiping away a fake tear. He let out a dramatic sigh before dramatically walking towards the door.

Shadow blinked. Okay...this was new. But Sonic was usually doing something weird. It was one of the things he loved about him. And he knew it was an act, because when Sonic wasn't doing something weird, he was sleeping or eating or teasing Shadow. And he wouldn't just leave him. Shadow was Sonic's source of money.

Sonic loved attention. He loved having people notice him and talk to him. He was more charismatic than Shadow and far better with words than the Ultimate Life Form. He could convince almost anyone to do whatever he wanted. And he knew it. That's why he'd always been so popular. But he was already so popular that people stopped constantly gushing over him whenever he went into the city. Sure, they smiled and waved, but not with the same awe and respect that they had in the past. He needed new people. New places. New crowds. New things to do.

So since he and Shadow had become an item, Shadow had developed a system he called "Daily Attention Limit." If Sonic got more than his daily allowance of attention, then he would become even more insufferable than usual. Not only would he make everything a competition, but he would also be hyper-aware of everything and everyone around him, which meant he would always try to be the center of attention. And no matter how hard Shadow tried to keep Sonic under control, the blue hedgehog always managed to get more attention than Shadow was willing to give. It was as if he was always hyped up on sugar. The only thing that could calm him down was sleep, which Sonic did a lot of. So, every day, Shadow would give Sonic his allotted amount of attention. If Sonic got any more, then Shadow would take it away and make him do chores around the house, which usually made Sonic sulk. But it didn't last long because the moment Shadow gave Sonic his attention back, the blue hedgehog was back to being hyper and annoying again.

Just like a kid.

"Don't think about me too much," Sonic said, adding a little sniffle. "It will only make it harder for you. Goodbye, my dark, handsome lover."

Shadow blinked as he watched Sonic slowly walk towards the door, making sure to exaggerate his steps and add little bounces to them. The blue hedgehog looked like a child who'd just been told they couldn't have a piece of candy. Sonic even added a dramatic wave over his shoulder.

"Okay." Shadow said, then returned to his book. If there was one thing he had learned about the hedgehog, it was that no matter what you said to him, he would always do whatever he wanted anyway. So why waste your time?

"Wait! Are you serious? You're really going to let me go that easily?" Sonic asked, whirling around.

"Is that not what you want?"

"Aren't you gonna mourn me and, like, make a shrine for me or something? I mean, come on. This is kind of a big deal, don't you think? You're letting me go!"

Shadow sighed, turning the page in his book. "Did you make the bed?"

Sonic scowled. "I told you. I'm leaving. This is my chance to find a better life. One with more fame and fortune than you can ever give me."

"Well, I guess I'll have to take the bed apart then. What a shame."

"Stop trying to distract me! I'm trying to be dramatic here!"

"And you are doing a wonderful job of it."

"I'm super upset."

"What would you like for dinner? I was thinking I'd make chili dogs."

"You're not even listening to me! Why are you so calm? This is a big deal!"

"Of course I'm listening to you. I always listen to you. You're leaving me. I get it. You want me to say 'Please, Sonic, don't go. I need you' but I'm not going to. Because you'll come back for three reasons. Want me to list them?"

"I don't care."

"Number one, because you don't know how to cook. Number two, because you need my chest fluff when you sleep. Number three, because you can't survive without me giving you money. And four, because you love me."

"I don't love you. I never have loved you. I'm only with you because you give me free stuff." Sonic said, crossing his arms, glaring at the hedgehog.

"Alright then." Shadow turned another page in his book. "If you're going to leave, then you can make your own food. Have fun."

"Wait! No! I didn't mean that!"

Shadow raised an eyebrow. "Then what did you mean?"

"That you're an evil hedgehog and I'm breaking up with you because you're not good enough for me." Sonic said, putting his hands on his hips.

"I'm so heartbroken." Shadow deadpanned.

"This isn't working! Why aren't you getting upset? Do you not care about me anymore? Is that it?"

"I care about you. I love you. I want you to stay and be happy."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"You can't fool me. I'm not falling for this."

"Sonic, I love you. I want you to be happy. And if being with me isn't making you happy, then I want you to go find someone else."

"Are you trying to guilt trip me or something? Because it's not going to work."

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. I'm just telling you how I feel." Shadow looked up at Sonic with a smirk. He knew what Sonic was doing. It was the equivalent of when a child skips their afternoon nap and throws a temper tantrum to get out of going to bed early. The hedgehog was exhausted. And he always got clingy and grumpy when he was tired. That was why Shadow had set the daily attention limit in the first place. And the only thing Sonic liked more than attention was sleep. But he never actually slept as much as he should. He was too busy running around everywhere, racing people who didn't even know they were in a race, talking to people who didn't even know he existed, and making sure he was in the public eye all the time. Sonic needed sleep and attention. Shadow knew the hedgehog would come back eventually.

"Don't look at me like that. I hate it when you do that." Sonic said, glaring at Shadow.

"Okay." Shadow looked down at his book again.

"You're not going to convince me to stay with those puppy dog eyes of yours."

Shadow didn't respond, turning another page in his book.

"Ugh, fine! I'll stay! You win. Happy?"

There we go. Shadow chuckled and set his book on the coffee table, motioning to his chest fluff. "Alright, come here."

"You're a jerk." Sonic said, flopping down onto the couch.

"And you're a drama queen." Shadow said, rolling his eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me!" Sonic said, smacking Shadow on the arm. But he curled up in Shadow's lap anyway, resting his head on the ebony hedgehog's chest fur. "This doesn't mean I forgive you, by the way."

"Of course not. How dare I let you sleep?" Shadow said, wrapping his arms around Sonic.

"I'm not even tired, I wanna go to the park or something."

"The park?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps we can go after you get some sleep. You've barely rested at all this week."

"I don't need any more sleep."

"You do."

"I don't."

"Sonic, I'm not going to argue with you about this. Go to sleep."

"No. I want to go to the park."

Shadow sighed. "What do I have to do to get you to sleep?"

"I dunno, entertain me or something."

"How am I supposed to entertain you if I'm reading?"

"Just talk to me."

"About what?"

"I dunno, anything."

"Alright." Shadow paused for a moment before speaking again. "Yesterday, I ran into Amy. She was at the store. We talked for a bit. She said she hasn't seen you in a while. Apparently, you don't answer her texts or calls. She seems concerned about you."

"Ugh, I know." Sonic mumbled, nuzzling against Shadow's chest fur.

"She wanted me to tell you to call her."

"I will."

"You'll forget, but that's not important right now. After I had a small conversation with Amy, I went to get a gallon of milk, but the clerk didn't have any. So I went to the gas station instead. But they were out of milk too. So I went to the grocery store, and of course they had some. I also needed more coffee beans because I drank the last of it. So-"

"Did anything funny happen? You know, like someone getting stuck in an aisle or something?"

"No, nothing happened. I got the milk and coffee beans and came home. Why do you ask?"

"Because you're so boring. Tell me a story or something. A funny story. Not some boring story about you getting groceries. I've seen you get groceries a million times."

"Very well." Shadow gently stroked Sonic's quills as he thought about what he should say next. He couldn't remember any funny stories. Maybe he could tell the blue hedgehog the time that Omega had accidentally eaten a table instead of a chair. That had been amusing. "There was once a little blue hedgehog who was very popular. Everyone loved him. And everyone wanted to be his friend. But the little blue hedgehog was lonely because he never got to spend time with anyone. So one day, he decided to try and make himself more likable by doing nice things for people. He started by giving out free chili dogs. And that worked. The little blue hedgehog got lots of friends. He was very happy. But after a while, the little blue hedgehog started to realize that he wasn't making any real friends. So he decided to try something else. He decided to start playing pranks on people. He thought that if he made them laugh, they would like him. And he was right. But the little blue hedgehog soon discovered that the pranks weren't fun anymore. He didn't enjoy making people laugh. So he started doing other things to get people to like him. He tried giving them presents. He tried telling them jokes. He even tried asking people on dates. But none of it worked. The little blue hedgehog was starting to run out of ideas. So he decided to go back to giving people free chili dogs. He figured that maybe if he gave everyone enough chili dogs, they would eventually forgive him for being so annoying. But the little blue hedgehog had made a terrible mistake. Because by trying to make everyone happy, he had forgotten to make himself happy. And eventually, he realized that the only way to truly make himself happy was to be himself. And that's why the little blue hedgehog is always so hyper and annoying. Because he wants people to like him and pay attention to him. And even though he's a very nice person, he's also a little selfish."

Shadow tugged on Sonic's ear gently just to make sure he was paying attention. It was a habit he'd developed over time. He wanted to make sure Sonic was still listening to him. Shadow always read Sonic stories or talked about his day before they went to bed. If he didn't, then Sonic would just fall asleep without warning, and Shadow would have to carry him to their room. It had been annoying at first, but Shadow had learned to accept it as another one of Sonic's quirks.

"I know that story." Sonic mumbled, burying his face in Shadow's fur. "You tell me that story all the time."

"Well, it's true."

"It's not a very funny story."

"No, I suppose it isn't. But it is a true story."

"I'm the little blue hedgehog, right? Am I the little blue hedgehog?"

"Yes, you are."

"That's stupid." Sonic yawned and nuzzled against Shadow's chest. "Tell me another story."

Shadow sighed. "One story at a time. You need to get some rest, Sonic."

"Ah, come on. Hey, wanna do something together? Oh, wanna do it? Haha. That sounded sexual, didn't it? Hahaha."

"Sonic, stop."

"Oh, come on. Don't be such a prude."

"Sonic, you're exhausted. Go to sleep."

"But I'm not tired."

"If you continue to act like a child, I will have no choice but to send you to bed with no dinner. And no dessert."

"Oh my gosh! No dessert? You know I can't live without dessert!"

"Then behave and go to bed."

"Ugh, fine." Sonic said, wrapping his arms around Shadow's neck. "I'll go to bed. But only because I want to and not because you told me to. I don't like you bossing me around."

"Uh huh, I'm very much aware of that fact."

"You're ruining the moment."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Were you having a moment? I didn't notice."

"You're so rude. I hate you."

"Love you too, hedgehog." Shadow said, kissing the top of Sonic's head. He gently rubbed Sonic's back, in between the two spikes that jutted out. The spot was Sonic's favorite place to be rubbed. It was his secret spot that no one else knew about. Shadow was the only one who got to touch Sonic in that spot. And Shadow knew how much the hedgehog enjoyed it. Because when he rubbed it, Sonic would immediately start purring, his gentle vibrations tickling Shadow's fur. And sometimes, if he rubbed it long enough, Sonic would start to drift off to sleep. It was like a magic spot. Like rubbing someone's belly or giving them a scalp massage. Sonic would instantly relax whenever Shadow touched him there.

Sonic let out a quiet purr as he nuzzled into Shadow's chest again. He was probably falling asleep by now. If not, then at least he was close to it. That meant Shadow could go back to reading his book. Maybe he'd finally finish it today. Or maybe not. He didn't really care. All that mattered was that Sonic was happy and getting his daily attention quota. And if Shadow got to read his book while Sonic slept on top of him, then he was happy.

#sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonic fandom #cute #sonadow #oneshot #short story #wattpad writer #wattpad #writing

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usagi-chwan · 1 day ago

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Yes, I do (BSD x Reader) 2/2

🌸 Characters in this chapter: Dazai (Mafia), Ango, Ranpo and Yosano.

🌸 Spoils: knowing the background of Dazai, Ango and Yosano is more than recommended to be able to read their parts.

Ango's part is rather long, for which I clearly got carried away...

This was a request from someone else on AO3, who wanted me to add a second part to the existing one on the characters' marriages with the reader. I hope I have fulfilled my part of the bargain properly, and I wish you an excellent read! ^^

Dazai (Mafia)

- If there is one thing he could never have foreseen, despite all his talents, it was his own wedding.

- Of all the people who nearly spit out their drinks when they heard the news, the most surprised was Dazai himself. But he could not resist the idea of living with you for the rest of his life, so... Ta-da, a wedding!

- Even though he had mountains of money at the time, he really only needed three people for this very special day (not counting the one who is marrying you, otherwise it is going to be complicated): Ango, Oda, and of course... You. The star of the show, the person who gave him a new perspective on life.

- And the person who gave him the strength to continue fighting against his existence that was so unkind to him, until he met you.

- He also taunted Chuuya for many weeks, telling him that, of course, animals were not invited to his wedding...

- And Chuuya would simply reply that he did not necessarily want to see such a thing (and that he was not an animal, for God's sake!!). But our Chuchu cannot ignore the fact that, deep down inside, somewhere, jealousy is showing its face at hearing that this idiot Dazai is getting married...

- Nor can he deny that he feels an immense wave of pity and compassion towards you.

Ango

- With his mania for doing things in the right order, it was hardly surprising that, a few years after you had become a couple, you ended up getting married.

- For him, marriage has a very important and symbolic meaning: it is the consecration of your life as a couple, the irrefutable proof that you want to continue living together.

- So, when he proposed to you, he was in the grip of immeasurable anguish... But when you said yes, he could have sworn he heard angels singing.

- If he is still in the Mafia, his wedding is obviously taking place with his two closest friends, as well as your friends and family, in simple intimacy.

- If he is gone back to work for the government, it is your relatives and his colleagues, especially his boss, who are obviously invited.

- Without knowing whether or not he will come, Ango has also sent an invitation to Dazai, his heart full of hope but also of remorse for the past, which will not leave him alone even for such an event.

- During the ceremony, you notice that Ango is sometimes slightly distracted, with a glint of sadness in his eyes... At first, you do not really understand why; is he regretting all this?

- But when you look at him a little more closely, you can deduce that he seems to be looking for someone among the crowd of guests... He soon returns to the present moment, however, and enjoys it as much as he can; without, it seems, having succeeded in finding the person he is looking for.

- It is only when you are dancing that your now-husband's gaze settles on something, before he widens his eyes, followed by a gentle smile and a relieved expression.

- And, as you spin in time with the music, and find yourself face to face with that person Ango had been staring at just seconds before... You cannot help but smile in turn, as you discover a brown-haired young man, covered in bandages and dressed in a black and white suit, leaning against a wall with a glass in his hand, standing in the background.

- His head is bowed, masking his eyes; but you can still make out the slight smile he is wearing, reminiscent of Ango's a few moments earlier.

- A smile that is in no way inferior to the one he gives you as the music ends, followed almost immediately by a tender kiss he places on your lips, thanking you with all his being for choosing to share his life and his future.

Ranpo

- A wedding? Honestly, he does not really see the point: you do not need that to show you love each other, do you?

- So, obviously, the idea will not come from him, but from you. He is not against it, far from it! If it pleases you, then he will gladly play along.

- But his opinion on marriage changes dramatically when he realizes something crucial.

- It is simply a golden opportunity, giving him a ready-made, unstoppable excuse to eat sweets at will. And Ranpo has no intention of skimping on quantity, or he would not be called Ranpo.

- In fact, a good quarter of your wedding budget was spent on cakes and sweets.

- The wedding itself went off extremely well; prepared largely by you and your colleagues (notably Kunikida, for better or worse...), but also by Ranpo, who help you with enthusiasm.

- The only downside, at the end of the evening: Ranpo is slumped over in a chair, moaning in pain... Alcohol? No, far from it...! It is simply the beginnings of the aftermath of eating too much, which can only mean one thing: great wedding night ahead!

Yosano

- Everything is going wonderfully well, in a serene and happy atmosphere, full of laughter and joy.

- Not to mention, of course, the moment when Yosano almost rips the head off a certain young man covered in bandages, who had the extremely good (bad) idea of coming to the wedding intoxicated with hallucinogenic mushrooms.

- Despite this little incident, everything goes on as if in a dream... A feeling all the more exacerbated when the cake is brought in.

- At that moment, Yosano cannot hold back an expression of intense surprise; the cake is indeed covered with magnificent and detailed butterflies made of sugar, a true work of art for anyone with even the slightest appreciation of beautiful things.

- She did not order the cake, so she is not responsible for this... When she turns her head towards you, still speechless, the smile you give her says it all: you know her past, the importance of the butterfly that permanently adorns her hair, what her ability looks like...

- In a word, you know how crucial butterflies are in her life. And to see that you have moved heaven and earth to find someone capable of creating these magnificent sugar butterflies, to see that you have willingly incorporated an extra part of her, that she did not even remember possessing, into this true symbol of marriage...

- Finally, her last barriers were overcome, and she threw herself into your arms, thanking you in a low voice... And shedding a few tears, too, well hidden in the hollow of your shoulder.

- She never thought it possible... But you have managed to make this very special day, for both of you, even more perfect and unforgettable than it already was.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #anime #dazai osamu #bsd headcanons #dazai x reader #ango x reader #yosano x reader #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa #yosano akiko #ango sakaguchi #fluff #mariage

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dandylion240 · 2 days ago

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Two months later Evan had moved his stuff back into their home. He couldn’t wait for Jayden to come home and see what he’d done. He had the evening all planned out. Take out from the Chinese Restaurant. A romantic movie picked out on Simsflix. One he knew would bring Jayden to tears that he’d later deny. Candles were set up and waiting in the bathroom to light later. Smiling he was as ready as he would ever be.

Turning towards the front door Evan's heart leaped into his throat as it opened. His smile fading as he recognized the figure coming through it. Jayden walked in, head down, fingers typing on his phone a distracted look on his face. Evan’s breath caught in his throat. It was all happening again. All the beautiful promises were just empty words. Said with one purpose in mind. To get him back. His fingers curled into fists at his side.

Glancing up Jayden smiled as he put his phone away. “Sorry about that. My boss won’t take no for an answer. He keeps insisting I keep tabs on the numbers this evening. I told him I’ll check it in the morning.” Noticing the bluish tinge around Evan’s lips “are you feeling alright? I know you had this big evening planned but if you’re not feeling well we could do it another night.”

Shaking his head he threw his arms around the smaller man. “I’m fine. I just thought…”

The trembles in his body said more than his words. “Oh honey I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I promise this evening is all ours. Just you and me.”

“I know” he peppered Jayden’s face with kisses “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

“You have every right and have nothing to be sorry for” Jayden held his face between his hands. “I’m putting my phone on silent so we won’t be disturbed. I’m all yours for the night.”

“Are you sure” he asked remembering his comment about his boss.

“If you’re worried about my boss don’t be. He’s not happy with the change but he’ll adjust. He’ll get another eager beaver willing to sacrifice his life to watch the numbers. I’m not that guy anymore.” He didn’t add that Jasper was becoming quite the butt kisser at work. Volunteering and in general weaseling himself into positions to look good while throwing an ever increasing amount of work on his desk in the hopes he wouldn’t be able to keep up.

“Good” he murmured “as long as you’re sure it’s alright.”

“It’s going to be alright” Jayden assured him despite his growing anxiety over what Jasper might be telling his boss at this moment. Moving towards the bedroom “do I have time to change?”

“Time” Evan frowned “we have all evening.”

“Didn’t you plan for us to go out” he asked “I thought you’d want to eat at that French Restaurant.”

Flinching at the thought Evan said “I never want to go there again.”

Sensing he’d stumbled upon something unsettling Jayden simply pulled Evan to him squeezing him tight. “He’s never going to hurt you again. I promise.”

He leaned into Jayden a contented smiled spreading across his face. “I’ve got Chinese for supper and a movie for later.”

“Sounds good” Jayden held him a moment longer “I love you so much. More than I can ever say.”

Coming back into the living room Evan frowned as Jayden was focused on his phone. “I thought everything was okay” he waved towards the phone in Jayden’s hand.

Shaking his head Jayden set the offending device aside. “It is. I promise” he got up going to where Evan stood “is the bath running?”

Nodding Evan gave him a questioning look “if it’s important….”

“The only thing important to me at this moment is you” he said as moved across the room to give Evan a kiss. “I’ve missed this. You. I won’t ever make the mistake of taking you for granted again.”

Evan could feel himself melting in Jayden’s arms. He had longed for his touch. His tender caress. It had always made him feel so warm, loved and cherished. The light touch of Jayden’s fingers touching the skin beneath his shirt made him back away a strangled cry issuing forth like a warning siren.

Stepping back Jayden gave him a concerned look. “We don’t have to do this. We could just cuddle on the couch. I can wait. I know I still have much to prove….”

Shaking his head Evan pressed his hand to his lips to keep from crying out a second time. “It’s not that. I’m sorry. It’s….” He half turned away arms wrapped tightly around himself “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you” Jayden asked confused. “I know you and Jasper were together. It may make me crazy just thinking about it but I’d never be mad at you.”

“It’s not….we were never” sighing he looked at his feet with an heir of dejection. “I couldn’t be with him like that….”

“Tell me” he said gently without pressure, he waited while Evan made up his mind.

Hesitantly Evan lifted his shirt over his head and turned around. “Please don’t be mad” he pleaded once more.

Stepping forward Jayden lightly brushed his fingers over the jagged scars. His throat felt tight as he fought the bile and anger that bubbled up from within him. All the times Evan had refused to undress in front of him made sense now. As much as he hated Jasper for doing this he had only one person to blame. Himself. He’d let this happen when he let Evan walk out that night. His schemes had led to this. He was supposed to protect Evan and instead he let him run into the arms of a monster.

Misreading his silence Evan stepped away making a grab for his shirt. “i knew you’d be mad…”

Grabbing the shirt and tugging on it Jayden made Evan look at him. “I’m not mad at you. You didn’t ask for this. You needed me to protect you and I let you down. I’m mad at myself.” He turned away in shame unable to endure Evan’s trust filled gaze another moment.

“Jay” he touched his taut shoulder “you couldn’t have known.”

“I brought him here” he choked “I did this.”

“No” Evan tugged on his hand until Jayden turned around “he tricked us both.”

“You tried to tell me” he sniffed “I was too caught up with my work and how good I was at setting people up. I’ll never be able to forgive myself for what happened to you. You deserve so much better.”

“I do have better” he took Jayden’s hands leading him to the bath. “Tonight it’s just you and me. A new beginning.” His hands fumbled with Jayden’s clothes.

“You’re really something special” Jayden whispered when they stood before each other without anything between them.

“I was thinking the same of you” his eyes roamed across Jayden’s body.

Taking his hand Jayden lead him to the tub “tonight I’m going to show you just how special you are.”

At first Evan was a little self conscious sitting with his back to Jayden. When he felt Jayden’s lips softly kissing the ugly scars he let himself relax.

A month or so later Jayden received a call from his boss to meet in his office. Walking inside “you wanted to see me” Jayden said standing in front of his desk.

“Have a seat Mr Reagan” he waved towards a chair while he finished his phone call. Hanging up he drummed his fingers on the desk staring across the divide between them. “Do you know why I’ve asked you in here?”

“No sir” he shook his head the beginnings of a tension headache pressing on the backs of his eyes. As far as he knew he hadn’t missed any pressing deadlines. Had made all his sales goals.

“I see” his boss hummed a little beneath his breath. “Quite frankly I’m concerned with your performance.”

Frowning Jayden sat forward “I’ve met all my goals and deadlines.”

“You have” his boss admitted “however meeting them is not the same as exceeding them. You’ve lost your fire. The spark that makes you different from the rest. I demand excellence from everyone in this office and you’re just not giving me your all.”

“I’m giving you everything I can” Jayden assured him.

“Really? Are you sure about that?” he gave him piercing stare. “This isn’t a job that you can leave behind once you walk out these doors. This isn’t just a job it’s your career. Your life. Nothing should be more important than the numbers.”

“My time when I leave this office is my time to do with as a I please” Jayden glared back at the older man. Now he knew why the man had 10 ex-wives/husbands. It’s hard to keep a relationship when all you do is work. He couldn't believe this was the person he had aspired to be like.

“I see” he sat back disappointment etching his face. “You were in line for promotion. You’re recent decline in dedication to your work has made me question your loyalty to me and this office. Jasper on the other hand is just the guy for the position.”

Standing stiffly Jayden walked to the door “good for him” his voice more brittle than he wanted. With Jasper getting the promotion that meant the guy would be his immediate supervisor. He’d have to report to him. Receive his work assignments from him. No doubt he’d be expected to go on business trips with him. The idea made him feel ill.

Returning to his desk Jasper approached him. “Did you hear the good news” he smirked down at him.

“Congrats” Jayden mumbled from stiff and leaden lips.

“Now that I’m your boss I expect you to take my calls ….”

His eyes shot up to the man’s insufferable face. “No it doesn’t. Work stops once I leave this office. You have no right to call me at my home. Asking about Evan is definitely not work related.”

“It’s only polite to ask about one’s family” Jasper gave him a knowing smirk setting a thick folder on his desk. “I want the numbers sorted and a presentation ready by tomorrow. The customer will be in at 3:00.”

Jayden glanced at the name “you’ve had this assignment for two weeks and have done nothing with it. How do you expect me to get it done in less than a day?”

“I guess that means you’re working late” Jasper said a smug look on his face. “I’ll give Evan a call to let him know.”

“Leave him alone” Jayden snapped standing up and knocking the heavy file to the floor.

“What are you going to do about it” Jasper demanded leaning in close. “Just think while you’re here doing this assignment because we both know you’ll stay, Evan will be alone.” Stepping back “maybe I’ll keep him company. Remind him what a real man is.”

“I’ve seen the scars. I know what you did to him. He doesn't want anything to do with you.” Looking at his desk he grabbed the one item that held any value to him. A picture of him and Evan on the beach in Sulani taken when Jonah had gotten married. “I’m done. Good luck getting that presentation ready in time.”

Without knocking he poked his head inside his bosses office. “I quit. Good luck with your prize ass you just promoted.”

Walking from the building he inhaled deeply. A sense of peace falling over him. After months of fielding veiled threats from Jasper at all hours of the day and worrying about Evan he finally felt like things were looking up. He loved his job but not enough to put Evan in danger. Their finances would be tight until he found another job but it’d be worth it. He finally felt he had his priorities striaght.

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#jayden reagan #evan o'neil #jasper hammond #ts4 #enough #simblr #sims story #tw abuse

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